The sweet air of Buenos Aires

I'm in a completely different world now. 30 hours ago I was in cold, wet, miserable Ireland, and I am now cruising down the freeway in Buenos Aires, sun beating down, skies clear, window wound down, in singlet, shorts and thongs. I feel at home.

Let's rewind a little to where I left off the last time. After I quit my job I still had four weeks to go, but given that I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, I could relax a little even though I was still working very hard right up until the last day. In fact, I was working even harder than usual as I had to keep an eye on Andra, train her, and make sure everything was getting done (difficult, as everything was taking twice as long as normal since I had to show Andra how to do it first, and then supervise her doing it). Anyway, the day of reckoning finally arrived, we said our goodbyes, and I began my super-extended luxurious holidays.

Actually I had promised Sabrina I would go clubbing with her the night I finished, but I was so wrecked I couldn't even move off the couch. It was weird as I thought I would be more excited to be finishing but in the end I didn't even have the energy to be excited. I took the next few days really easy, not doing much except for rearranging my flights to Peru (which took forever thanks to one idiot I spoke to at Qantas who didn't have a clue what she was doing). In the end I had to physically go to the British Airways ticket desk at the airport and get them to do it as I wasn't getting anywhere by telephone. What the use is technology if you can't achieve anything except if you do it face to face? By Friday I was totally recovered from my exhaustion and ready to make the most of my last weekend in Dublin. Alan told me there was a party that night in Rialto, so we resolved to head off there together. The house the party was at was fabulous – a tiny dark living room with red fairy lights which created a fantastically eerie ambiance, a brightly lit kitchen for those that didn't like the mood lighting, and some space to hang out on the stairways and in the halls for those that didn't fit in the other spaces. There was a motley bunch of people there as usual – Dutch, Spanish, Polish, Mexican, Argentine, French, and even a couple of Irish, haha. The music was great and we did the usual talking, laughing, dancing, drinking. I even practiced my Spanish a little in preparation for my forthcoming trip (well, my Spanglish anyway). Eventually I got talking to Dermot, one of the Irish guys there, at about two or three am and we didn't stop until one o'clock on Saturday afternoon, when we decided we were probably overstaying our welcome as the last of the other guests had left some hours ago.

Needless to say I spent most of Saturday afternoon sleeping, in anticipation of Sunday, when my friend Julia was coming to Ireland all the way from Australia to visit me (amongst other things). I went to the airport to pick her up (thankfully her plane got in at 9am, not 5 am or something similarly ridiculous). We of course began to talk non-stop from the second we saw each other, even though poor Jules was tired from her marathon flight and probably jet-lagged as well. It was totally weird, even though we hadn't seen each other for almost eight months, it was just like we'd seen each other last week. I didn't feel like we'd been separated at all. Must be the power of email (despite the infrequency with which I actually write emails). First thing we went for a full Irish breakfast so that Jules could taste black and white pudding – plus we were hungry! When we were full to bursting with cholesterol, fat, and salt, I showed her some of the sights around Dublin, icluding Kilmainham Gaol, which I hadn't been to yet. It was fascinating, having housed the rebels behind the failed 1916 Easter rising, and plus our tour guide was kind of cute which always helps. He told us a story about Geoffrey Plunkett, who got married just hours before being executed at the gaol. His wife also ended up in the East Wing of the gaol later for "revolutionary activities" or some such. Pity the weather was wet and cold (surprise) and that we were both tired. Meanwhile I caught up on the Australia gossip – who's dating who, who broke up with who, who did what, when, and why. Turns out Janna and Meagan are planning to come to Spain next August so I might see them then!

On Monday Jules and I set off on our Paddywagon three day south of Ireland tour. We turned up dutifully at eight o'clock at the Paddywagon offices on Westmoreland street (the address having been written in size 20 font at the bottom of the ticket) and awaited the bus. It seemed strange that the office didn't have a sign or anything, but I informed Julia that lack of signage was pretty much the norm in Ireland. We were still waiting at quarter past, but when Jules mentioned it, I brushed it off. “Don't worry Jules, we're working on Irish time. Eight can mean anything from eight o'clock to ten thirty”. By half eight I was also worried so we rang the Paddywagon offices to find out the story. “Oh, you're at Westmoreland Street?” “Yes, that's the address on the ticket.” “That's our old offices. Just stay where you are. I'll send the driver around to pick you up”. And she did. Lucky we didn't wait any longer to ring or they'd have been half way to Galway already.

We did that nightmare thing you do on these ridiculous tours, introduce yourself to the bus and tell everyone a little bit about yourself. Not that you remember anyone's name three seconds after they tell you what it is, but whatever. Anyway, it was as good a way as any to pass the hours before Clonmacnoise, an old monastery in the middle of Ireland, founded by St. Ciaran in the 1600s or something. A long time ago anyway. It was one of the oldest universities in Europe (second oldest I think). It was very pretty with all the ruins and gravestones (lots of celtic crosses everywhere) but absolutely incredibly insanely windy and cold, even though it was sunny. Then bus, bus, and more bus all the way to Galway. We did stop at some random castle on the way, not that I remember what it's called.

Everyone has been raving about Galway since I got to Ireland. It's so pretty, the people are so friendly, you'll have a great time in Galway, etc etc. The cathedral was pretty amazing, I admit, but the rest of Galway was pretty difficult to appreciate in the cold and darkness. I heard it's really hopping in the summertime though, so perhaps it's just the time of year. I did get to appreciate the inside of the pub we went to for dinner! They had traditional Irish music which was great but more importantly it was warm and had light. Yay. Jules and I went to bed fairly early as we were wrecked and quite happy to leave the late night partying to the others that night.

The next day we set off for Killarney, stopping off at yet more castles (still not sick of them) and also “The Burren” which is basically a big expanse of rock, but apparently scientists come from all over the world to study it. We also saw (and made use of) a wishing well. I can't even remember what I wished so I have no idea whether or not it came true. Tuesday was also the day we saw the Cliffs of Moher, supposedly the best touristy thing in Ireland. I must admit they were pretty amazing, and we were lucky as anything since the weather was lovely and there were only a smattering of tourists. If you can put up with the cold and the rain, and you´re lucky, there are advantages to seeing Ireland in the winter. The thing is if you're unlucky, the entire Cliffs can be blanketed in a thick, inpenetrable fog, so you've travelled for two days to see nothing but white mist.

At night we did a tour of Killarney National Park, which was great as the landscape reminded me of Anne of Green Gables, and also because our tour guide, Michael, had a totally adorable Kerry accent. Plus the sun was setting so it was very pretty. We saw some Kerry cows (absolutely jet black from head to toe, they are dying out and are a protected species) and a “Heeland Coo” (Highland cow) that came on holidays from Scotland and never went home. He was really cute.

After that, again to the pub. That night I was totally antisocial as Liverpool were playing Chelsea in a champions league match which they had on the big screen, and despite my promises that I was “only going to watch for five minutes” - they were a very long five minutes that stretched out to ninety plus stoppage time. Well, to be fair to me it was a very interesting match! Both teams played well and it ended in a nil all draw which was not only enough to see Liverpool through to the next round, but on top of the group, no less! Sucked in Chelsea, (who must hate us now with a fiery passion since we eliminated them from the last Champions League comp, which we went on to win, hahaha) and sucked in Manchester United, who are now eliminated from the competition (almost better news than the Liverpool-Chelsea result). A good night all around. I finally tried an Irish Carbomb (Half pint of Ginness, with a shot of whiskey and one of Bailey's, skulled so the Bailey's doesn't curdle). It was delicious, bizzarely. That night we also met Joe, another Paddywagon driver, totally cute and a law student, but Casey and Melanie whisked him away into a corner in the first five minutes and noone else could talk to him. By the way Ireland is overrun with solicitors. Everywhere you turn there's signs “O'Connor and Sutton, Solicitors”, “Beauchamps Solicitors”, John Smith, Solicitor”. Why does such a small country need so many lawyers? We were planning to stay out that night but the bar we ended up at was totally lame and the three for ten euro cocktails were watery and weak (so I heard, thankfully I didn't buy any). So we hung out a bit and then again left the partying to the others.

The next day we made our way to Blarney Castle in the pouring rain (and I mean pouring, as though someone had overturned a cosmic bucket over southern Eire). Blarney castle was pretty cool, even apart from the stone, although again it was a bit more difficult to appreciate in the rain. The shitty weather did keep the tourists away though, so at least we had the run of the place. I kissed the Blarney stone (bring on my seven years good luck) and by the end of that morning my jeans were soaked up to the knees and my shoes and socks also soaked through, not to be dried again until 9 that night. After that more driving in the bus (day 3 is the longest driving day) then Ross castle, which again was totally fascinating but cold and rainy. At least this castle had a roof and we got a guided tour which included lots of history about the castle in yet another cool Irish accent (not southern though unfortunately). These people used to eat practically nothing but potato mash and milk for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It's a wonder they survived. Then still more driving until we finally made it back to Dublin. Home sweet home. We went back to my place and had a lovely hot shower and got changed into some dry clothes. Unfortunately having been wet all day it wasn't enough to avoid the revolting cold I ended up with the next day (and still have).

Anyway, over the next couple days I just caught up with people and got ready for my trip. One small hiccough when I went to get an ATM card that I could use overseas, and the bank told me I couldn't have one because my account had only been open five months, not the required six. So now I have no way of getting at my money from here. Again, thank Christ for Visa. I even managed to see Dermot the day I left, although only for an hour as he was an hour late to meet me (not his fault). Don't think things are going to go anywhere on that score after all - and I had such hopes! Well, I'm not gonna dwell on it, especially considering some of the hotties I've seen here in Buenos Aires! Girls, you gotta make it a stop on your next trip, I swear. There´s cute guys practically around every corner! And they´re not shy either. Maru and Flo have already promised to go out dancing with me, so I´ll be able to maximise my boy-checking-out then.

The flight to Baires (that´s what I´m calling it now) was mercifully not too long (only 19 hours, including the one and a half we spent sitting in the plane grounded at Madrid) and we touched down about two hours later than we were supposed to. Add to that a one and a half hour wait at immigration (I was entering on my Portuguese passport having left my Argentine one in Australia, so I was slightly nervous that they wouldn't let me into the country, but of course it was all fine. I even got a stamp in my Portuguese passport finally, because within the EU nobody stamps anything!). Thankfully the potential boredom of the wait was alleviated by a couple of Englishmen I got talking to in the line. One was kind of cool, one less so, but at least the conversation was entertaining. Finally I was through immigration, I picked up my bag, and went to meet my slightly fed up family who had been waiting for about three hours. Soon we were on the crazy Argentine freeway (where traffic lights and lane markings are merely suggestions, and indicator levers practically have spiderwebs due to lack of use) where I began this blog. It's actually three days later now, and I'm still trying to finish the damn thing.

Actually now it´s four days later, so I´m gonna finish it today if it´s the last thing I do. From the freeway to my grandparent´s house (how cool to see them again) and then to my cousin Carla´s (mum´s side), who has a beautiful house in an estate kind of thing with a pool and all the mod cons. Lots more people there - Carla, Claudia (her sister) my aunt Doris, Carla´s son Geronimo and her hubby Sebastian. We had a great time relaxing by the pool and catching up with all the news, watching DVDs of U2 and Robbie Williams. We had asado for dinner (something I´ve been waiting for for the last eight years) and finally I collapsed into bed at I can´t remember what time. It´s so weird to have so much daylight, I´m still not used to it. It can be nine at night here and there´s so much light it feels like three in the afternoon. Which means I go to bed late, and because I get up so early, I don´t sleep all that much. Sleeping is a waste of time anyway, right?

The next day we went to see the other side of the family (dad´s side) at the Quinta, which is their weekend house. Everybody who´s anybody in the Fernandez family was there(with some notable exceptions), and what a riotous, unruly, raucous bunch we are. Everyone screaming over the top of everyone else, taking the piss out of each other, and just generally being noisy. Just like me. We spent some time in the pool, some time eating, lots of time chatting. I´m still trying to finish Crime and Punishment and failing miserably although starting tomorrow I have four lazy days at the beach to finally find out how it ends.

My Spanish isn´t as good as I thought it was - I still find myself slipping back into English a lot, but I´ve been here less than a week, so I still have four in which to improve. Having Ramiro around isn´t helping, because it allows me to cheat a lot. Still, he leaves on the 29th and after that I won´t speak any English at all. Well, I´m gonna try.

Anyway, after the Quinta I stayed at my cousin Maria Marta´s place (she has a cool apartment in the city) and we stayed up late and had fun chats with her and Florencia (her sister and yet another cousin) and watched Legally Blonde. I forgot how funny that movie is. Next day - shopping! I can´t get over how cheap everything is here. In Dublin I´m so poor: I live in a tiny, kind of crappy apartment which I share with three others; I only buy red meat on special occasions, I walk everywhere and never take taxis; I only buy clothes at Penneys and only when I really need them (I´ve been using the same work pants all year even though they´re two sizes too big and the hems are all frayed). Here I´m like some kind of queen: I bought a pair of Levi´s the other day for about thirty euro. The ones I bought in Arnotts a couple months ago (not even a brand, just any old crappy jeans) cost me nearly sixty. I finally bought a pair of proper running shoes for a third of the price I would have paid in Ireland. I got my nails done (french manicure) for seven pesos, which is about three euro, probably less.

You know what else is cool here? Sales help. In Australia and Ireland, "Sales Help" is an oxymoron. Here, they´re great. They gave me all sorts of advice about running shoes, helped me pick the best ones, and even thanked me for the pleasure. In the jeans store they asked what style I was after, brought me what I wanted, then when I said I didn´t like A or B about a pair of jeans, they brought me jeans without that. Not just another random pair of jeans that they thought I might like, like in Australia. I showed them where the cut wasn´t right, they brought me a cut that fit better. I wanted no pockets, they brought me no pockets. I love shopping here.

Yesterday we took a train to the delta at La Tigre, then a boat ride in the canals. That was totally cool. People live in the canals in the delta and the boats are like a kind of bus that takes them home, to school, to the shops, etc. At night we had pizza at tia Doris´s and my kind of distant cousin and friend from last time I was here, Maura, was there, so we did a bit of catching up.

Today, here I sit in an internet cafe, trying to summarise as briefly and entertainingly as possible. This morning I went for a run (my first in like, two weeks, naughty naughty, but come on, I plead extenuating circumstances). It´s hot here, but I did my twenty minutes and didn´t die, so go me. Let´s see how I feel tomorrow! I´m going to have such a poor time in Peru if I don´t keep in shape but my family is intent on feeding me to death, and it´s not easy to resist all the yummy pastries, barbeques, dulce de leche (a kind of argentine caramel, which has to be tasted to be believed), dulce de batata con queso fresco (sweet potato jam with unpasteurised cheese - yuuuuuum) and all sorts of deliciousness. I will, however, persist, otherwise I´ll be 1000 kilos in Peru and I won´t be going to Machu Picchu without a helicopter to airlift me. I´m trying to convince my cousin Clau to come with me - she really wants to go so hopefully it won´t be too difficult, hehehe!

Now it´s about lunchtime and after that who knows. I hope a swimming pool will be involved. I cannot describe the pleasure all this good weather is giving me after six months of Ireland. I didn´t even realise how much I missed it until I got here. Hopefully by the time I get back I´ll be sick of hot weather because February is still bloody cold in Ireland! As always in a new city/country I´m already planning my next trip here before I even leave. But I have lots of reasons to come back here as soon as humanly possible. Can´t wait ´til Christmas!

Work Shmerk

I had my last day at work yesterday, and far from feeling exhilarated, I'm actually feeling at a bit of a loss. I've spent the morning trying to reorganise flights and stuff for Peru (all the ones I wanted are booked out, hurrah, so I've got no time to get from Lima to Cusco for the Inca hike), which means I'm probably going to have to fly, which is gonna cost me like 250 euro. I am so sick of airlines, flights, times, bookings, and all that. I'm especially sick of how much they charge you for the pleasure. But I want to get it all out of the way before the weekend so I can relax. Thank god I've got these days off or I don't know when I'd be able to organise all this.

Last night Sabrina and I had planned to go out clubbing, but in the end I collapsed on the couch and fell asleep. My body needed it thanks to all the partying I put it through this weekend! I had some friends come to Dublin from London and we went out clubbing on Friday and Saturday and I got up early on Saturday to visit Andra, so by Sunday I was wrecked! It was all in the pursuit of a good time though so it was worth it, and we found Rick's, the best burger bar in Dublin! I'm still feeling lethargic today - I think it's because it's been six days since I've been running and my body needs an adrenaline kick. I'll go later when the rain will hopefully have let up a bit. I can barely believe it's eight days until I go to Argentina - this six months has been one of the fastest in my life. Every time I stop and turn around I find another month has gone by.

Andra made me Romanian food on Saturday, and we had chats, and Dan made me drink a pile of Jameson, and we had a good time. Wow, that was such a poorly constructed sentence, but I am extremely tired, so you'll have to forgive me.

I was planning to give you all a proper update on my life, but to be honest I've been sitting in this internet cafe trying to fix my flights for 4 hours 21 minutes and counting, and I have to get out of here. I have to go for a run or do something, right now, this minute.