Viajeros, contd.

Mendoza

So at school the next week, my buddy Will, a Texan, pointed out all the concerns about the Iguazu trip and the group that I just raised to you. We are on the same page. So we throw caution to the wind, and buy bus tickets to Mendoza, which everyone has told us is the PLACE TO GO. We have few goals in mind: 1-See the Andes. 2-Drink wine and ride bikes. 3-Escape the summer school group for a while. Other than that, we didn't really care...we were traveling, man!
People

Will goes to UT law and lives in my building in Buenos Aires. He is my age, and hails from Houston. He likes baseball and quoting funny movies. We even were at a couple of the same wrestling tournaments in high school. Good guy. Seemingly a good travel partner. However, one interesting thing about "traveling" is that the few people that you do travel with, you end up getting to know really well--maybe a little too well. (Good example: When traveling in Europe post college, I learned that my friend Aaron LOVES Harry Potter, Noonan LOVES Lord of the Rings, and Brian CANNOT GET ENOUGH of the Dallas Cowboys. He even knew that the won a Super Bowl on my 9th birthday. I did not know this about any of them pre-traveling. So very interesting.)

Anyways, one thing I learned about Will is that he likes to go 0 to 60 with emotional conversations at a speed I am not comfortable with. It's like, yes I know we will be sitting next to each other on a 14 hour bus ride, but I don't need to talk about my fear of rejection right now, OK? Let's at least wait until hour 3. Additionally, alcohol increases his emotional velocity, so on a weekend where we would be drinking wine the entire time, you could say that we were one flex capacitor away from singing Johnny Be Good. (Shut up, it too me a while to think of that metaphor.)

Apart from Will, we were meeting other "travelers." We stayed in a hostel where there was a dinner one night. Typical bad beards. Typical convos--no I have not been to Bolivia. Yes I have been to Iguazu. Will you pass me that beer? One other aspect you might see about travelers is that some are over anxious to talk about politics. One guy I sat across from was from Holland but his parents were from Iran. He says to me, "So, you are from America. It means we are at war, yes?" Obviously I handled the convo with the grace and delicacy of any patriotic American, but the point is that I was stuck between two extremes. On the one hand, I am talking about International politics (which I don't know very much about) with people I am never going to see again, and on the other I am talking about my deepest feelings (which I also don't know very much about) with a guy that I am spending every second with. Sometimes you just want to make fun of people for complaining, you know?

It appears you are damned if you do, damned if you don´t. People---they´re the worst!

Places

We first arrive there and go right to the tourism office. They tell us to get on a bus and go see Mr. Hugo. This man rents out bicycles to travelers and gives out directions to where the wineries are located. As Will and I trek out to the farthest one (using some strategy which will put us closer to home the drunker we get, bc we are geniuses), a cop waives us down, and for a brief moment it appears we are gonna get arrested. I think to myself: ¨Cool down, DuRoss. This guy doesn´t know anything about your public nudity, and if he does, there has got to be a statute of limitations on something like that.¨ Turns out he was there to tell us that a dust storm has caused the wineries past that point to be closed.

Plan B consists of the cop escorting us to a winery a little closer to home. Will and I pull up and see absolutely no one. Totally empty. I would be lying if I told you that the thought of the cop leading us to our impending, wine-soaked deaths didn´t cross our minds. Finally a woman lets us in, escorts us upstairs to the bar, and introduces us to the ¨wine maker.¨ Young guy, dressed like a gigolo, and extremely happy to see us. (Side note: I should have explained this in a different post, but it is Argentine custom to greet with a kiss on the cheek--even the men. With that said...) The wine maker plants one on my cheek for a solid 10 seconds. Call me old fashioned, but I don´t think any kiss on the cheek should top 7 seconds. What is the need? As I contemplate this, wine maker moves on to Will, plants one for a solid 15, and then starts serving us up some vino.

The three of us spent the rest of the afternoon getting, as the Mendozans say, ¨totally shnockered.¨ So this story is going on for way too long so here come bullet points:

-Seeing the natural beauty of the Andes: incredible.
-Waking up and realizing that someone had taken our cash in the middle of the night: sucked.
-Witnessing the theft of Will´s backpack as we sat at an outdoor cafe 9 hours later: also sucked.

Feelings Afterward

On balance, between the emotional rollercoasters, various thefts, and kissing of gigolos, it might seem like traveling to Mendoza was a worse experience than being a tourist in Iguazu. BUT--I think on the whole I liked it better. First of all, Will is a solid guy and I get ornery, so that is a wash. Second, we didn´t lose that much cash, and the robber dropped Will´s bag 10 feet away because our waiter saw him. Third, I conducted international diplomacy between Iran and Texas. Finally, the gigolo got us wasted.

Basically, there are no losers in this contest. Except maybe you, the reader. Sucka!!