I'd like to say I had been planning on going to the beach the weekend I embarked but the truth is, I really had no idea. I was flung into the plans the day before and didn't know what I was getting myself into even as I curled into my semi-cama seat for the 5 hour bus ride to who-knows-where.
Turns out we were going to Mar de Plata, one of the closer beaches in Argentina a popular weekend spot. With the intense heat still circulating through the city, we were all ready for a weekend get-away. About 16 of us from CEA piled into our double decker bus at 2am ready for a weekend in the sun. The bus ride was not bad at all, besides sitting next to a fairly smelly man and being paranoid about my huge bag being knifed open (the travel books can really get you paranoid) and before I knew it we were there. Finding the next leg of transportation to the camp ground proved to be a little more difficult seeing as how every available bus seemed to be bursting of people. Definitely not enough room for a bunch of bagged down tourists. We ended up taking a taxi, and the driver was very helpful in telling us about the area.
We ended up staying in the nicest the bungalows, because of our group’s size. They were cute little condo-type buildings with a kitchen, fridge, bathroom, bunk beds and a loft with a double. Pretty nice place for being right on the beach!
True to form, we found a small bakery up the road and began what would be a daily ritual of buying pastries and sandwiches from the very appreciative owner. In the same place, we picked up a small pack of stray dogs, who - despite our disinterest - befriended us for the length of our stay. The grocery was a decent walk down so we loaded up on cheap food to bring back - I bought pizza sauce, french bread, a pan, and cereal. We weren't really planning on gourmet dining anyway.
The first day was all beaches, sun, and in my case: sunburns. I am still sporting a very unique sun "tattoo" from where the bows of my suit and a partial handprint were printed white on the red canvas that was my back. Apparently I was very sleepy, because my day at the beach was more zombie-like than anything. I passed out on the sand, then went to bed in the bungalow...but the good news was I was ready for day 2!
Day 2: The weather was a bit dreary, so we headed into town to see the ship port and the sealions...and to get some real food. The port was relaxing and the sea lions kept us entertained for longer than I thought they would. We met some local guys selling all kinds of sardines and pickled sea life and I was tricked into tasting my first whole sardine. Really, I just thought it was fun to be practicing spanish with these guys, but I took the free sample with a cracker. Sardines aren't too bad! Plus, they gave us little lemon shots to follow it up, so can't really complain. They happened to be amazing beat boxers as well.
Churros and hot chocolate happened twice for me this weekend. It was just too good. It was that thick, rich drinking chocolate and the churros were hot, sugary and filled with creme de pastel. Mmmmmmmm is all I can say. And, if you're ever in that area, order the same thing at Monolo's. You won't regret it.
With our stomachs full and our fill of the lobos de marinas (sea lions are called sea wolves here) we headed back to camp. Earlier in the day we had gone to a local market and bought vegetables for amazing prices, olive oil, and some lemon. I grilled some pizza dough and marinated eggplant, tomatoes, and onion in some left over desert wine and olive oil. After grilling them outside over the coals one of the other girls had started I enjoyed a pretty good dinner.
By this time, the motorcycles had shown up. Apparently, our seemingly quiet campground was the meeting point of a motorcycle convention this specific weekend. Great timing. The estimated guest count: 1,500. We couldn't wait. Although we feel like it had to be less that 1,500 we found ourselves mingling as night got closer. The bikes were everywhere along with leather and denim jackets sporting groups names and studs. A tattoo and piercing stand was set up, and ACDC t-shirts were the clothing of choice. A few of us headed towards the noise and found ourselves at mini-rock concert in the middle of the camp. We talked to a few of the guys, and found out one of the band members was from the states. Turns out he has been in Argentina for 15 years..working for a fishing company and playing the occasional gig around town. He said he was just trying to escape ""all the crap" that was happening in the world. He picked a good place.
As the night went on and the ACDC band played louder and louder, we made more friends. A group of guys around our age began speaking to us in english, and surprisingly good english at that. I ended up hanging out with the group of them and the girls they were with all night, practicing spanish and english, laughing at each other’s mistakes, playing some guitar, and laughing at the drunken old motorcycle men trying to get into their tents.
It's amazing to be living in such a huge and diverse city, but it felt great to be moving, to be seeing more of this awesome country. We made a few friends, got our beach time in, and got closer as a group.
Not too shabby for a last-second weekend!
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