Partis de l’hôtel à 9 h, après avoir fait nos adieux au personnel. Tout le monde nous souhaite bon voyage et demande quand on revient.
Rodolfo et Olga viennent nous chercher et nous emmènent à la station de bus. En Argentine, la station de bus est le nœud de communication d’une ville. Elles sont souvent grandes, modernes et très animées.
Une famille de gens très typés, Péruviens ou Boliviens attend un bus. Ils sont très habillés, pantalon, anorack et bébé enveloppé dans une couverture. Et il fait déjà assez chaud, peut-être 25 º. Une des femmes a un chapeau melon.
Nous remercions encore Rodolfo et Olga de leur gentillesse et nous disons adieu.
Le bus est à deux étages, extrèmement confortable. On nous sert même des alfajores (biscuits fourrés) et du café … que je renverse sur mon chemisier.
Le bus s’arrête à l’entrée de l’aéroport à Mendoza, un peu avant la ville. Cela nous évite d’aller en ville et de revenir par un taxi. On arrive donc à l’aéroport à pied.
Dans le hall, une maquette montre le futur tunnel sous les Andes entre Mendoza et le Chili. Celui-ci (il y en aura un autre plus près de San Juan, routier) sera seulement ferroviaire.
Nous déjeunons d’une pizza et nous embarquons sans problème. Nous ne sommes pas ensemble dans l’avion, Jens et moi.
Je suis derrière un très mignon bébé. Je joue avec lui par la fente entre les deux fauteuils, coucou, ola, caresses sur la main. Il sourit. J’en oublie de regarder Les Andes! Et il me donne le ”mal de Theo”. Je demande son âge à sa maman, il a 9 mois et demi, Theo en a 10.
Taxi à Santigo jusqu’à l’hôtel Conde Ansurez. La receptionniste nous reconnait. Puis Jens essaye de téléphoner à Carlos mais impossible de le joindre.
Après une petite sieste (la nuit a été bruyante à San Juan), nous allons à pied chez lui, à peu près 2 km. Le portier sonne à leur appartement : personne. Jens appelle alors Silvia, la compagne de Carlos. Elle n’est pas en ville et, apparemment, Carlos pensait qu’on arrivait demain.
La rue où se trouve l’hôtel est une rue d’Universités privées. C’était, autrefois, un quartier très chic avec des villas immenses. Ces villas ont été transformées en Universités. Elles se succèdent, l’une après l’autre. C’est la raison pour laquelle les étudiants protestent ici. Ils veulent une éducation supérieure de qualité et abordable à tous. C’est drôle, mais l’année dernière, j’avais assisté à leur première manifestation au centre ville.
Nous revenons à pied, trouvons des distributeurs de billets à l’entrée d’un supermarché mais ils n’ont plus d’argent. Nous en trouvons deux autres dans la station de métro República, près de l’hôtel. Le premier est vide aussi. Le deuxième, ça va. Mais Jens se mélange un peu les pinceaux avec les zéros et au lieu de prendre 20 000 pesos (200 kr ou 25 €) il prend 200 000 pesos (2000 kr ou 250 €) !
Nous cherchons un endroit où diner. A part le Mac Donald en face de l’hôtel, il n’y a rien d’ouvert dans le quartier. Nous trouvons enfin un restaurant chinois, un vrai. C’est drôle, nous sommes les seuls non-chinois. Tout le monde parle chinois et mange avec des baguettes. La serveuse parle un peu espagnol. Un groupe de jeunes, une douzaine, a du bon temps à une grande table ronde. Il y a déjà quatre bouteilles de vin vides sur la table. Un petit garçon de trois ans à peu près (fils de clients) se met à jouer par terre avec une petite fille (du restaurant) du même âge. Il parle beaucoup (en chinois, bien sûr) mais la petite fille, active et souriante, ne dit pas un mot. Les serveuses les évitent, chargées de plats. Nous prenons un menu pour deux … et on pourrait manger à quatre. La plupart des clients emporte les restes dans un doggy bag. C’est dommage qu’on ne puisse pas le faire, on aurait un diner tout prêt pour demain. C’est très bon, très copieux et bon marché.
Et nous rentrons nous coucher.
We left the hotel at 9 am, having said goodbye to all the staff. Everyone wishes us a good trip and asks when we are coming back.
Rodolfo and Olga come and get us and take us to the bus station. In Argentina, the bus station is the communication hub of a city. They are often large, modern and lively.
A family of people with dark skin, Peruvians or Bolivians is waiting for a bus. They are dressed with warm cloths, trousers and anorack, and a baby is wrapped in a blanket. And it is already warm enough, maybe 25 º.One woman wears a bowler hat.
We again thank Rodolfo and Olga for their kindness and we bid farewell.
The bus is double dekker, extremely comfortable. They gave alfajores (biscuits) and coffee ... that I spilled on my blouse.
Rodolfo and Olga come and get us and take us to the bus station. In Argentina, the bus station is the communication hub of a city. They are often large, modern and lively.
A family of people with dark skin, Peruvians or Bolivians is waiting for a bus. They are dressed with warm cloths, trousers and anorack, and a baby is wrapped in a blanket. And it is already warm enough, maybe 25 º.One woman wears a bowler hat.
We again thank Rodolfo and Olga for their kindness and we bid farewell.
The bus is double dekker, extremely comfortable. They gave alfajores (biscuits) and coffee ... that I spilled on my blouse.
The bus stops at the airport entrance in Mendoza, shortly before the city. This allows us to go directly to the airport, without going downtown and back by taxi. We thus arrive at the airport on foot.
In the hall, a model shows the future tunnel under the Andes between Mendoza and Chile. This one (there will be another one closer to San Juan, for cars) will be only for trains.
We have lunch of pizza and we get into the plane without problem. We are not together, Jens and me.
I am behind a very cute baby. I play with him through the opening between the two seats, coucou, ola, caresses on the hand. He is very smiling.I am so busy with him that I forget to watch the Andes! And he makes me ”Theo sick." I ask his mother how old he is, is 9 and a half months, Theo is almost 10 and a half.
In Santigo we take a taxi to the hotel Conde Ansurez. The receptionist recognizes us. Jens then tries to call Carlos but he is impossible to reach.
After a nap (the night was noisy in San Juan), we walk to Carlos’home, about 2 km. The porter rang their apartment: person. Jens then called Silvia, Carlos’ partner. She is not in town, and apparently Carlos thought we were supposed to arrive tomorrow.
The street where the hotel is a street of private universities. This was once a very fashionable area with huge villas. These villas have been converted into universities. They succeed each other, one after the other. This is why students are protesting here. They want a higher education of quality and affordable to all. It's funny, but last year I had seen their first protest here, downtown.
We walk back, find ATMs at the entrance of a supermarket but they have no more money. We find two others in the Republica metro station, near the hotel. The first one is empty too. The second is okay. But Jens makes a mistake with the zeroes, and instead of taking out 20,000 pesos (200 kr or 25 €) he takes 200,000 pesos (2000 kr or 250 €)!
We seek a place to dine. Apart MacDonald in front of the hotel, there is nothing open in the neighborhood. We finally find a Chinese restaurant, a real one. It's funny, we are the only non-Chinese. Everyone speaks Chinese and eat with chopsticks. The waitress speaks some Spanish. A group of young people, about a dozen, have a good time at a large round table. There are already four empty wine bottles on the table. A little boy of three years or so (son of customers) begins to play on the floor with a little girl (daughter of somebody in the restaurant) of the same age. He is talking a lot (in Chinese, of course) but the little girl, active and smiling, does not say a word. The waitresses avoid them, loaded with dishes. We take a menu for two ... and we could have been four. Most clients take away the leftovers in a doggy bag. It's too bad we can not do that, we would have had dinner ready for tomorrow. This is very good, plentiful and cheap.
And we go to bed.
In the hall, a model shows the future tunnel under the Andes between Mendoza and Chile. This one (there will be another one closer to San Juan, for cars) will be only for trains.
We have lunch of pizza and we get into the plane without problem. We are not together, Jens and me.
I am behind a very cute baby. I play with him through the opening between the two seats, coucou, ola, caresses on the hand. He is very smiling.I am so busy with him that I forget to watch the Andes! And he makes me ”Theo sick." I ask his mother how old he is, is 9 and a half months, Theo is almost 10 and a half.
In Santigo we take a taxi to the hotel Conde Ansurez. The receptionist recognizes us. Jens then tries to call Carlos but he is impossible to reach.
After a nap (the night was noisy in San Juan), we walk to Carlos’home, about 2 km. The porter rang their apartment: person. Jens then called Silvia, Carlos’ partner. She is not in town, and apparently Carlos thought we were supposed to arrive tomorrow.
The street where the hotel is a street of private universities. This was once a very fashionable area with huge villas. These villas have been converted into universities. They succeed each other, one after the other. This is why students are protesting here. They want a higher education of quality and affordable to all. It's funny, but last year I had seen their first protest here, downtown.
We walk back, find ATMs at the entrance of a supermarket but they have no more money. We find two others in the Republica metro station, near the hotel. The first one is empty too. The second is okay. But Jens makes a mistake with the zeroes, and instead of taking out 20,000 pesos (200 kr or 25 €) he takes 200,000 pesos (2000 kr or 250 €)!
We seek a place to dine. Apart MacDonald in front of the hotel, there is nothing open in the neighborhood. We finally find a Chinese restaurant, a real one. It's funny, we are the only non-Chinese. Everyone speaks Chinese and eat with chopsticks. The waitress speaks some Spanish. A group of young people, about a dozen, have a good time at a large round table. There are already four empty wine bottles on the table. A little boy of three years or so (son of customers) begins to play on the floor with a little girl (daughter of somebody in the restaurant) of the same age. He is talking a lot (in Chinese, of course) but the little girl, active and smiling, does not say a word. The waitresses avoid them, loaded with dishes. We take a menu for two ... and we could have been four. Most clients take away the leftovers in a doggy bag. It's too bad we can not do that, we would have had dinner ready for tomorrow. This is very good, plentiful and cheap.
And we go to bed.
Mendoza
Santiago, maisons de couleurs
Santiago, colourful houses
Santiago, bougainvillier
No comments:
Post a Comment