We never did make it to pseudo-carnival last night in the end as we found a very conducive spot not far from here for a drink after dinner, and the hours slipped by. This morning then it took a while to get all the basic information clear, like where I was and who was the guy opposite me and why did my head hurt and generally what the hell was going on. But eventually equilibrium was restored.
Our lack of flights and buses for the near future had grown to be a bit of a worry, and as the internet connection was functional we decided to have a look at that before doing anything else. So began a protracted and frustrating and ultimately losing battle with the website of the bus company called Via Barriloche. It was only in Spanish, which meant much use of Google Translate. The final step of the booking page had a two-minute countdown timer which ratcheted up the tension like the music in a horror-movie. Many returns through the same process were required. My Spanish vocabulary and level of rage both rose significantly. Eventually we got through it to find the booking would not complete for an unspecified reason, and we gave up and looked at alternatives.
The long and the short of it is that after several hours we had flights booked to Iguazu for Monday, and from there we will fly to Rio Gallegos in the south on Thursday, as travelling directly to El Calafate (which is the access point for the glacier) was prohibitively expensive. We can get a bus from Rio Gallegos which only takes four hours, the Argentinian equivalent of a stroll around the block. We were much relieved to have it all done. We have a few other bits and pieces to bolt on, but the transport was the main thing.
It was 2pm by then so we went out for a late lunch in a small cafe. That took an hour, which seems to be the minimum time for a meal in South America. In the main square is an enormous statue of a man on a horse, and we went there afterwards. The statue is of gargantuan proportions, raised up on a plinth that’s the size of terraced house, and is undoubtedly the most impressive I have ever seen in terms of size and visual impact.
We had read that underneath it is a mausoleum, and we went down there for a look. It was one of those glorious surprises where something you expect to be interesting turns out to be amazing. It’s a large space, probably 20m square and 5m high, and very dark. The floor, ceiling and the walls are black, and the floor descends in several large steps. At the lowest level there is a grave marker for someone famous and important, and on either side of it stand two soldiers. I thought at first the two soldiers were models, until Mick pointed out that they were blinking. They were dressed in full ceremonial uniform, complete with swords, and stand almost perfectly still. They exude discipline. You walk around the space at the uppermost level, as if following a broad ledge, looking down at the soldiers below. On the walls are the names of battles and dates in huge letters made of concrete. Whatever the font is it’s beautiful, and the letters are arranged with masterful use of space. They are lit from below, casting shadows that seemed to me to have been part of the design of the typography. The whole effect is unsettling and moving. I loved it.
On the way there we had bought tickets for a guided tour in English of the theatre just off the square. It’s an imposing edifice of columns and stone and grandeur, and looks unchanged since its creation in the 1850s. In the entrance hall is a chandelier made by a company in England whose factory was destroyed in WWII, so there are very few of the original chandeliers in the world. The young lady who was showing us around told us with a hint of pride that the theatre has three of them, and we learned later that the largest weighs half a ton.
The main performance space continued the impressive tone set by the entrance, and is where the largest of the chandeliers is. The space is very high, the walls lined with private boxes. The ceiling above the front of the stage is painted with various symbolic images, and the centre of the ceiling around the chandelier is inscribed with the names of great writers and composers, dispiritingly few of which I have had any exposure to. They don’t sell the boxes at the front any more as they have a poor view of the stage, but back in the day these were the most expensive as they were the most visible to the crowds on the ground and the people in the other boxes, and their attendees were going to be seen as much as to see. The place spoke of glamour and high society, dark suits and expensive dresses. We were both very taken with it.
From there we had intended to continue our power-tourism burst, but the two museums we went to were in the standard configuration of Uruguayan museums as we have found it, which is to say closed. I think they don’t want visitors to the museums here. So we went for a short stroll on the sea front and then for a coffee, sitting outside in the evening sun. As I write this we are back about an hour, and will shortly go out to get something to eat, and tomorrow and Sunday are as yet unplanned.
