When we were at wine night on Wednesday, a photographer took our picture for a website called Mendoza Online. And, after great anticipation and 5 days of checking the site, feeling guilty for basically googling ourselves everyday, it’s finally out! And our picture is in it! Hooray! Check out the article and see our beautiful faces.
I have discovered something in the last two days. Not something that was necessarily hiding from me, but let’s call it something awesome. Point one, I come from good genes full of fun and witty personalities. Point two, my dad is more then a dad, he is a treasured friend. Basically, we are having a great time.
After the first fun filled evening, dad slept in. Recuperating from his extensive journey south. Todd went to the bakery and picked up some media-lunas aka croissants and had the coffee ready when we both emerged from our beauty sleep. After the nourishment we were off to the fly shop to finalize details for our fishing trip on Monday. We walked 3km to the other side of town, not the prettiest, so it was interesting to see the streets through my dads eyes. 
We pointed out the fact that some cars are rigged with natural gas tanks vs. petrol. I agree with him that a tank of natural gas in the trunk seems like a fender bender disaster story. We also had to warn him that crossing the streets was not like New York. Here, they will not stop or even slow, rather side swipe you and possibly break your wrist as the side mirror zooms past your body. Gives crossing the street a little more meaning.
The fly shop visit proved successful. I think Pablo will be great, but will keep you posted after a day on the river with him. At this point, hunger kicked in so we grabbed a bite to eat. We introduced dad to SER, a carbonated grapefruit flavored bevy, think Fresca. I am hooked and I think may have recruited another member to the “I love SER” team.
Exhausted and full of beefy goodness, we walked home for some relaxation. We shared some pictures and stories, and then we all took a must needed siesta. I am starting to embrace the siesta. What will we do when we hit the states and it is no longer the it thing, but the between 1 and 6yr old thing. Oh, well. Either way, the rest was great and left us all with the energy we needed for the evenings events: Dinner and Tango.
So, I was pumped to show dad some tango: an Argentina tradition of sensual movement with incredibly difficult footwork. My eagerness led us to the show 5minutes to 9pm, this is early for here so we were the lucky first arrivals, awkward. Did we leave for a drink and return later aka on time by Argentine standards or sit in the empty hall, all by ourselves? Well, while we decided two other couples arrived, inside we went. And with that the crowd had arrived, no more people arrived that night, the show was for us, 7 in total. As we laughed at the circumstance of it all our meals arrived. Dad and his danty figure enjoyed a salad, I went for a beef empanada, and Todd, the chorizo. All ordered the beef entree, side of salad, and ice cream for dessert. Much better meal then I expected.
But the meal was only the sideshow, we were there for the tango. One word, Awesome! Two hot female dancers, two not so hot guys, and one, singer, lost in the sleezy 70’s wearing silky violet, need I say more. And let’s not forget the onesy, hot pink and again, awesome! The show was actually really well done. They danced like the place was packed not like there were 7 people in total. The best part, they still did the where is everyone from game: people from the US, here, yeah!!!, etc. So we left with full bellies and a lot of energy.
Off to the bar, where we introduced dad to Fiernet, an Argentinian herbalicious liquor mixed with coca-cola. It’s strong and bitey, yet grows on you in a weird way. I keep drinking it but have yet to make a clear decision on if I like it or not. Dad decided, he opted for coffee. The night commenced as we chatted and chatted. It was great. Sitting outside on a cool night, enjoying great company and conversation. We finally left around 1pm.
Yet, our night wasn’t over. We just continued our enthralling conversation back at our house, rafting, climbing, bulls, food, even religion. I had no idea it was so late, but even as we got ready for bed, it was more of a I should go to bed then a its time for bed motion. For me, that says it all. So, to bed we went as dad hollered from the other room….”It’s 3:30.”
And that leaves us today. Again, dad slept in. I think he is enjoying the relaxation or maybe it was the late night. Todd again woke up early, but this time it was for a run, no food for us. I headed out to a Sunday morning ritual of aerobics in the park and dad was still sleeping. The idea was that as I embarrassed myself, the boys would watch. But instead dad woke late and the boys did some bonding.
When I got back I packed up our picnic lunch: cheese, salami, mustard, fruits, chips, etc. As we walked to the park we admired the beautiful houses that lined the road. We were lucky enough to see the antique cars leaving the Parque San Martin: One line of super cool old cars parading under the gold and iron gate that marks the entrance to the park. Good timing.
After buying a watermelon out of the back of a pick up truck, the last essential ingredient to our summer picnic, we were off to find the perfect spot, lakeside of course. So, we planted ourselves under a palm and enjoyed our bounty. Luckily, just as we finished the biking ice cream man rolled up so dad and Todd indulged in a sweet, frosty morsel. The plan was to eat, enjoy the area, and then head up to Cerro de Gloria. A point at the top of a hill marked by a huge sculpture glorifying the liberators of the area.
Well, at this point it was hot. Specifically, the heat of the day under a cloudless sky of burning hot sun. But up, up, up the road we walked. Upon arrival we quickly bought some icy cold water. After checking out the views we meandered around the sculpture, took a minute to sit, and then down we went, meandering our tired legs home.
A great day in the park, a long walk, approximately 10miles, two showers a piece for the day, quick siestas, and some delivery pizza and our day was set. Now, I sit here sipping some shiraz, dad anxiously looking over my shoulder, I think he really wants to read the beginning, and all I can think is “Let the good times roll!”
Yes, it is true, a cup of jo and my dad. All in one, this morning, right here in our apartment. How fabulously surreal, I love it! Yesterday, I cleaned and busied myself all morning as I waited with great anticipation to finally hail a taxi and ride to the airport for the grand pick-up. I even arranged a little side table next to the little twin bed draped in an old lady pink comforter 
with hotel soaps and a local English wine magazine. It was darling, or at least I professed this thought to Todd who humored me with false enthusiasm. Todd again humored my childlike anticipation as I bubbled down the street looking for wine and flowers. It has been 8 months since I last saw anyone in my family. Of course I was excited.
Last night, we sat at our apartment, drinking some Bud, while dad recanted his travel down south to Argentina. It was great. Then we were off to enjoy one of Mendoza’s greatest gifts, vino. And where better to do this then, our now favorite hang out, The Vines of Mendoza. We ordered a lovely meat and cheese platter, and three cups of Argentina’s finest. I opted for a Brut Xero Cuvee, dad enjoyed a Petite Fleur blend, and Todd the Monte Cinco Malbec.
Next, we opted for a stroll through Plaza Independencia and down Peatonal Sarmiento, the main pedestrian street in town. It was refreshing to see the city through new eyes. Comments about the power lines, yielded conversation about weather and different safety standards. The people, the canals that are used for watering the trees, the atmosphere all seemed so fresh with these new eyes in tow.
After our walk we strolled up to La Florencia for some meat. It was still a little early for dinner, even at 9:30pm, but that just meant we had our choice of table. We indulged in some vodka tonics, very full, plentiful pours, but a wonderful change from wine and sub-par beer. After the very large menu was finally deciphered, we all sat back and waited for our different cuts of beef. It was delicious! So, on full bellies and slightly boozy heads, we strolled back to our apartment.
It was time for bed. My dad is here, right here in Mendoza. Not just a voice coming through our computer, our words typed on a monitor, but here, to give me the hug I needed. I am a lucky girl!
The last couple of days have been incredibly busy for us. Erin has been furiously working to get the trip for her dad set. Between organizing fishing excursions, wine tours, activities and everything, it’s been a bit overwhelming for someone who doesn’t normally plan out much. He arrives tomorrow afternoon, and it should be a great trip. There’s pretty much nothing that could derail 3 people, who are both friends and family, having a great time together. I look forward to it. I also look forward to Erin’s nervous bubble deflating and her calming down a bit. It’s good, anxious energy, so she’s wound a bit tight these days, all in anticipation of tomorrow.
Last night and Tuesday we hit our regular nights at the Vines of Mendoza. Tuesday was 50% off night and last night was winemaker night. These have become something of a regular event for us, something that is set in our schedule that we enjoy. So I’d like to talk a little bit about the event itself.
The Vines appears to be a swanky bar from the outside, with an intimidating bouncer who keeps out the riffraff. When you walk through the narrow, blood red hallway, there is a glass window displaying about 20 wines in a museum case. Or perhaps it’s one of those break-in-case-of-emergency windows, but it looks more like a Smithsonian display. From there, you walk into the main room, which is divided into two parts, the outdoor patio and the indoor bar/tasting room. The patio is filled with comfortable chairs and small tables. The bar is a sleek and modern exercise in white. But it’s nice, not as pretentious as it initially seems. There are a couple of side rooms where they keep the extra pretentiousness, waiting to be unleashed in case they need it.
We go to enjoy a glass of wine or two, usually not more. But if you go three times a week, which isn’t uncommon, then we get 2 glasses apiece, that’s 12 different wines we’re tasting a week at this bar alone. We usually take notes, sometimes going into great description, sometimes just saying whether we like it or not. There’s times that it’s just a smiley face.
Erin tends to be a little more analytical in her wine tasting, talking about the body and nose and whatnot. I do that as well, but tend to put more of an image or something behind it. So, I’m going to share some of my favorite wine notes for those who want to get an insight into how incredibly dorky I really am. (As if you didn’t already know)
Caelum Rose: It seems like I am in David the Gnome’s house, with trees, roots and dirt, waiting for the Gummy Bears
Lorca Petit Verdot: Like being hit in the mouth with a dirty baseball.
GR Altamira: Like being downwind from a blueberry patch, hiding under a stone bridge over a river on a sunny day.
Some of my other favorite wine words are things like: “dangerous!”, “yummy”, “likey”, any sort of smiley face, “terrible”, “do not ever buy again”, and, of course, “bah” and “alright-ish”.
Now, if you do look through my journal, you will see lots of the more familiar descriptors, such as molasses, silky, dry, buttery, and the whole slew of words that wine nerds use to describe wines. I’ve just found that I remember a wine better when there is some place or scenario that describes a wine. It could be just about anywhere. For instance, I tasted a wine once and felt like I was “in a small cedar cigar box with a leather keychain”. What does that even mean? Who knows, but I can remember exactly what the wine tasted like.
Being here in Mendoza, hanging out with a bunch of winemakers, sommeliers, vineyard owners, distributors and the world of professional wine people, I’ve had to step up my game, get more formal with how I describe a wine. I’m happy to say I’ve gained confidence in my wine tasting ability, but I still can’t really tell people what I think. They’re speaking in wine jargon and I’m talking crazy Todd jargon. Yet, that’s the fun part about wine. It’s so personal. It may seem like nonsense to anyone else, but I enjoy reading my notes and thinking, wow, that’s a fun wine if it took me to the Zanzibar spice market. That, by the way, was the Punto Final Malbec Reserve.
(In case you’re wondering what that smiley is on the side, it’s a man with glasses, sticking his tongue out, smiling so wide that he has dimples. Clearly.)
Last couple of days were pretty eventful and fun. We tried to watch the State of the Union address online, but it ended up being too choppy and we weren’t feeling patient enough, I suppose, so we cut that short. Anyway, we had a big day coming up on Friday, so we went to bed good and early.
7am rise and shine to get to the bus to head back out to El Salto for some climbing. This time, a new friend of ours, Violeta, was joining us to make it three. I was a little intimidated, again, because she was pretty ripped. Bulging muscles and stocky frame usually say that someone’s a pretty strong climber. (I hadn’t yet read Lisa’s comment from the last post, so I wasn’t prepared, but next time I will be.) Luckily, she ended up being at our level, more or less, so it all worked out well. It was a beautiful day with a cool breeze. We hid in the shade when we weren’t on the rock and just took advantage of the time we had out there. The 5pm bus picked us up, tired and exhausted, but happy.
We returned to the apartment around 8pm, took some quick showers and ate some dinner before heading out to meet our friends. We decided to unite all of our friends in one place in order to combine powers. It was a beautiful thing. We met Jo and her two friends at the local microbrewery. Then the famous asado-making-machine Martin came along, followed by Swedish Dan, who is probably reading this right now. The group of seven quickly became acquainted over a couple glasses of beer before Martin lead the charge to PH, a snazzy bar that’s pretty popular right now. I have no idea how he does it, but somehow Martin magically convinces them to setup a table for us. Here’s how I imagine the conversation going:
Martin: “Hey, can we have a table for 7?”
Waitress: “Ummm, can’t you see that every table in the bar is taken and there are people waiting? No, that’s no possible.”
Martin: “Please? Look, how about this. I’ll snap my fingers and you’ll suddenly find an extra table that seats seven for me and my friends.”
* Martin snaps fingers *
Waitress: “You know what, maybe we can pull a table out for you guys.”
Martin: “Thanks, that’d be great.”
Todd and Dan: “How did he do that?”
That’s pretty much how it is. It was awesome. Afterwords, we had decided to call it a night. We paid our bill and were ready to head home. Coincidentally, we passed a pretty popular disco bar. I think Martin actually planned this all out, but I have no proof. Once again, he manages to get us (all of us, a mostly underdressed, unkempt, unshaven, sandal wearing group of ragtags) past the line, past the bouncer, not pay a cover and put us smack in the middle of the disco. How can you say no to that?
I’ll tell you how. You don’t. You say yes and do the best head bop you’ve done in years. I personally pulled out all stops, going for the sprinkler, the lawnmower, the shopper. I think I did a couple of truck drivers, some shaking the dice, and when I wasn’t impressing the growing crowd with these gems, I would bring back the robot, a classic that just can’t be beaten. Just watch Revenge of the Nerds. It’s a fact.
In the end, we had to leave when we were at our peak, so we made our way back to the apartment. This morning, I had the wonderful opportunity to wake up to do laundry and fix our laptop for the umpteempth time. You know what they say: practice makes perfect. Even with the BSOD.
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