Don't Spy on Me, Argentina!

Buenos Aires, Argentina. Reaching the Antarctic peninsula is not quite as simple as it might seem. First off, one needs to navigate the terrors of the Miami International Airport. If the slow, zombified and frustratingly incontinent travelers don't delay you at the check-in line, you can make your way to Buenos Aires--the most consistently overthrown capital in modern history. The good news is that if you manage to escape the political unrest it is a relatively short hop to Ushuaia, the southernmost city in the world. Next comes the fun part. Two days travel aboard a seafaring vessel through the Drake Passage, the roughest seas on earth. The reward for this perilous journey? Ass loads of penguin tail and enough ice to keep the cocktails flowing past midnight. You can guess where I am heading.

Well, we got to Buenos Aires with no problem. Truly it is a fascinating city. The French inspired architecture is visually stunning, and there exists a level of modernity that is uncommon in most of South America. Apparently a great number of Italians immigrated to Argentina around the time of the second World War, adding their own special sauce to the mix. Improbably, pasta and pizza are found on nearly every corner. Call it Little Fritaly, if you will.

While most of the political unrest has subsided in recent years, it took all of about three hours before one of my trip mates was jumped by a pair of ruffians on motorcycles who targeted his watch. Luckily he escaped with watch, and wrist, intact. And while the city is splendid in many ways, a negative undercurrent can be felt in the voluminous graffiti striping the city's federal buildings, and in the continued growth of the shanty towns, now 30,000 citizens strong, that ring the glimmering spires of downtown. Worse still, their empanadas suck.

I actually learned a great deal about the socio-political history that I was not able to glean even from repeated viewings of Evita. I won't bore you with it, but suffice to say, there is a lot less singing at a whole lot more people spilling shit on your shirt, then pretending to wipe it off while they steal your wallet and jewelry, as nearly happened to another person in our crew on our second day here.

All in all, I have enjoyed the place but it is time to move on. Next stop: The City at the End of the World.