Buenos Aires: bikes & the tango

Our trio explored the city by bicycle today. Unfortunately for me, when we dropped off our clothes at the laundromat the other day, we arrived to pick up our clothes a few minutes too late and the place had closed for a four day weekend. Since then I've been alternating the few clothes I didn't bring to the laundromat: a dress, a skirt, and two shirts. Today was a skirt day, which isn't the best idea when spending the day biking around town!

 

We first hit up the hip neighborhood of Palermo, which is the city's European-influenced version of New York City's West Village. We rode around a quiet park and watched the geese swim around and honk at each other.

 

Porteños love their dogs like New Yorkers and Parisians. During our afternoon ride, we passed multiple dog walkers, each one typically with about a dozen dogs of all sizes.

 

Riding east, we next stopped at Puerto Madero for lunch on the water. Having lived in New York for too long, I am understandably and unnecessarily anxious about locking up a bicycle and leaving it on the street. I think I hardly made eye contact during lunch as I couldn't take my eyes off the bikes!

 

Fortunately (and predictably), the bikes were fine and continued on to San Telmo. It was a weekday afternoon, so the neighborhood was quiet, unlike when we visited on Sunday for the market. We had a hard time finding the place to return the bikes, which lead us to find three spots I had looked for on Sunday but didn't find.

 

The first was the famous San Telmo fresco.

 

And just down the street was Buenos Aires's narrowest building. It's the perfect size for Mini Bear.

 

The last spot was El Viejo Almancen.

 

We eventually returned the bikes, got cleaned up, and went to an evening tango show in a theater on Calle Florida, a pedestrian shopping zone.

 

Our table was right in front of the stage, giving us a great view of the dancing. Noticing the steps leading from the audience area to the stage, I was nervous they'd pull audience members on stage. Don't get me wrong, I have no problems with looking like a fool a public, but I strongly dislike dancing with strangers. The dancing was great, the live music was perfect, and I was more than a little relieved when the show ended and I was still safe in my seat!

 

Around the corner from the theater was the President's office, La Casa Rosada. It's painted a pink/salmon shade, but at night the building is illuminated with not-so-subtle pink lights.

 

Rapa Nui: day 3

Our guide yesterday told us about some caves on the island. I'm a sucker for a dark, enclosed, rocky space, so three of us rented bikes to go exploring.

 

As I've said before, mountain biking is not my forte. And I had conveniently forgotten that most of the island's hilly roads are dirt. Oy vay. (Fun fact: NASA came to the island several years ago and beautifully paved a few of the roads as the island's airport, which had a surprisingly long runway, was an emergency landing spot for past space shuttles. Some people think aliens created the moai. Perhaps paving roads and runways was just a cover for NASA? You be the judge.)

 

Our first stop was Two Windows Cave. The cave entrance was deceptively tight as it was a spacious cave. The Rapa Nui people often lived in caves so it wasn't long before the three of us started to joke about where we'd put the kitchen and the bed rooms, as if it were the latest house hunting show.

 

The next cave was the one that had us really excited. Yesterday's guide had told us about a cave that is so small, you crawl on your belly to get through and then have to rock climb up the cliff to get back. It took some time but we eventually found it. Ironically, the tiny cave was an offshoot of one of the tallest caves I've been in yet. Going through the cave was like evolution in reverse: first walking, then crouching, squatting, and finally crawling on your belly. Actually crawling is misleading: at the cave's lowest point, I did tiny push ups to inch my way forward. It was slow going to say the least and we had no idea how long it would take. After several minutes of mini push ups with just my head lamp and occasional giggles from my companions following behind to keep me company, I shouted, "I can see the light at the end of the tunnel!" Who doesn't love a good cliche?

 

As we emerged from the tunnel, there was a small ledge that was just big enough to support us but not big enough to inspire much confidence. We started to climb around a little to see how we get back without having to return through the cave and quickly concluded that our mothers would all be angry with us if we proceeded to climb the unstable rock face, so we turned around and went back through the cave.

 

After we emerged, we surveyed ourselves for damage. We each had countless scrapes and bruises and little cuts and were covered in rocky dust. We used my hand sanitizer to disinfect our wounds, laughing as the alcohol burned.

 

Back on the bikes, our trio grew by one. A dog started to follow us and happily stuck with us, patiently waiting as we stopped, for the rest of the day.

 

The banana cave was next up. Banana trees grew just inside the cave and proved to be good for climbing. Further inside the cave, a crew was filming a documentary and we all agreed that if we ever formed a band, we'd return here to film our first video.

 

Not much further up the road, we reached a group of seven moai. We took photos, had some lunch, and gave the dog some water. One of the great things about Rapa Nui is that you'd often find yourself visiting moai or caves or hiking all alone, free of massive tourist groups.

 

We locked up our bikes and started to hike up to the island's highest point. By now it was around two in the afternoon, but because the island is in an artificially eastern time zone, the sun was right on top of us as we walked through the shadeless fields. In the end, we decided not to go all the way to the top as it was so hot and we didn't want our adopted dog to get too tired. The views were gorgeous every step of the way.

 

We made one last stop to see what I called the hat factory. Some of the moai wore large, Russian looking red hats. This is where the red rocks were extracted and carved.

 

By this time, we were happily exhausted and headed back to town. We were thrilled to reach the paved road for the first time in hours!

 

I took a quick dip at the nearest beach, where the local kids made me repeatedly demonstrate the waterproof capabilities of my camera.

 

This in itself would have been an outstanding day, but we weren't done yet. In the evening, we attended Kari Kari, a traditional dance show. The women shook their hips, the men stomped around, and we were all thoroughly impressed.

 

Death Road Mountain Biking

Bolivia fought its eastern neighbor, Paraguay, in the Chaco War of the 1930s. Paraguayan prisoners of war were put to work on construction projects, including building a road from La Paz to its Amazonian region. For decades, this narrow road made of mud and loose gravel was the only overland connection between the two. Annually, about two hundred people plunged over the cliffs to their brutal deaths on the road due to its narrowness, complete lack of guard rails, poor driving conditions, fog and extreme weather. Why am I telling you this? Because today I biked it.

 

Death Road, as it's most commonly known, is now a popular day trip with travelers. It can be somewhat daunting to pick a tour operator since there are so many, so I went with Overdose, an operator recommended by a friend. It took a little effort to find the company however, as googling "overdose la paz" did not exactly yield what I was looking for (yikes...!).

 

Overdose was great. They provided us with elbow pads, knee and shin pads, gloves, heavy duty pants and jackets, sturdy helmets and mountain bikes with good suspension. It was definitely unnerving to see other companies give their customers only neon orange vests and helmets for safety gear.

 

The first twenty four kilometers were paved. I barely peddled a dozen times as I zoomed downhill. Because there was still vehicle traffic on this portion of the road, we rode in single file with ten meters between each of us...which meant I was all alone...so I had a grand time singing at the top of my lungs to myself!

 

In 2006, a new, wider section of road was completed after twelve years of construction to replace a portion of Death Road. Cyclists can use thirty kilometers of the old Death Road without having to share it with cars. Seeing how sharp the hairpin bends were and how sheer the drop offs were, I can't imagine what it was like in the 1990s when cyclists first started to ride Death Road en mass alongside two way traffic!

 

Even though I'm fairly competent with my road bike in New York City, this was my first time mountain biking and it took some getting used to. A typical bike ride for me involves dodging city buses as I cycle to work or dodging slow moving tourists as I bike through Central Park. Loose gravel, cliffs, and waterfalls are beyond my experience. Since I've starred in a couple of noteworthy bike crashes during my life, I was aware that it would be in my best benefit to figure out how to stay upright. I had to find the right mental balance of both paying attention to what I was doing (hearing Paul Sherwin and Phil Liggett providing commentary on my brilliant performance) and letting my mind wander (that is, singing).

 

I didn't take any photos while cycling as that really would have been stupidly dangerous. The company actually provided each of us with a free DVD of photos and videos from our trip to make sure we weren't tempted to snap our own photos and accidentally die in the process. We past a handfuls of monuments in Hebrew along the way and afterward our guide told us they were to mark where Israelis had died while biking. The last tourist to die was an guy from England several years ago. His family later visited Death Road and donated an ambulance.

 

The scenery, from what I could see, was lovely. Huge mountains, green hills, cascading waterfalls, and the occasional small village. Not a bad place to live, but I wouldn't want Death Road for my daily commute!