Wine and Relocation

Originally I had planned my last night in Buenos Aires for going out to get steak with a friend I made in my classes. Because it was pouring down rain (the only rain in two weeks) we decided not to meet up, so I was left at home with not much to do. I decided to begin my South American wine appreciation lessons by grabbing a bottle from the store. There's a certain lore, similar to Napa in the 70's, discussing the hidden gems of wine in South America. My only wine knowledge comes from nine months of waiting tables, so I don't really know what I'm talking about, but I grabbed an ARS$30 bottle of Elementos Malbec 2011. I know that Malbec is the largest variety grown in South America, that it originated in Bordeaux, and that it is the bread and butter of South American wine. The local lore that I've picked up on is that occasionally you'll find a superb bottle or vintage that costs the equivalent of $7 USD but is worth $100 USD. I've had Malbec back home and also a few times down here and I know what it tastes like at least, so when I say that this was one of those gem bottles, I feel pretty confident about saying that. I did research today and found that Elementos is indeed a brand highlighted for these pleasant anomalies. I found this as thrilling as lead climbing. How cool!?

I felt a small bit of sadness leaving Buenos Aires. I hate being constantly surrounded by people, and I hate smog, but the city definitely had something more than industry to it. That certain feeling that separates the great cities of the world from the big cities of the world. One day when I actually have money in excess of a food budget, I will go back and enjoy it all the way.

On to Bariloche! In congruence with my inability to travel places without exhibiting utter incompetence, I took a cab to the wrong airport this morning. Ayyy… After an embarrassing and stressful discussion with a security guard who kept laughing at me, I forked over a week’s worth of food money to catch another cab across the city. Luckily the domestic airport had less stringent security than a high school prom, and I caught my flight.

My abode in Bariloche is unreal. Flying over the Patagonian steppe was unreal. Breathing the exhaust from conifers instead of lorries was unreal. I'll post pictures of the house tomorrow, but it is a brick and log cabin that reminds me of a cowboy's house. There is a dog named Negro and a cat named León. It is located about 100 meters from the gondola heading up to the snow-covered mountains, and is situated on the shore of lake Nahel Huapi which is constantly windy and a renowned kiteboarding spot. I was picked up at the airport by my host's girlfriend and her daughter who live a few houses away, and they showed me around town a bit. Nobody locks their doors, and about five people have given me their phone numbers in case I need anything. 

- Kiteboarding

- Skiing

- Kite skiing

- Mountain biking

- Friendly socialists

- Pets

- Log homes

This is where I am supposed to live. The only thing stopping me from moving here is that I can't seem to figure out how to properly buy meat from the butcher. Argentine cuts are so different from the US that literal translations of the words means nothing, and I keep ending up with a sausage instead of a ribeye... And there's no pre-packaged meat here. They cut you your hunk of meat with the band saw right then and there. 

I already wish I had more time here. In all seriousness, there is a definite chance that I will end up living here more permanently someday.