Upon arrival in the town of San Carlos de Bariloche, Argentina, I sought out chomp on some famous Argentinian steak. Steak and wine, I thought, would be my diet for the rest of the month. So far on this trip, every expectation I had of each country has been wrong. I thought that the loathing Chileans whad for former dictator Augustus Pinochet would be so viscous that I´d be able to swipe it off the walls of La Moneda (the Presidential palace), where his army overthrew and killed democratically elected President Salvador Allende on September 11th, 1973. That wasn´t the case - most Chileans still hate him, but they´re over it; they´ve got a progressive woman president in Michelle Bachelet. They´re looking into the future and not dwelling on the past.
I thought Bolivia would be more dangerous than it was, as well. My friend and I went to an Iron Maiden tribute show in La Paz and most of the guys with nicks and cuts on their faces wanted to give us some beer, not take our wallets. So one thing this trip taught me is to never have preconceived notions about anything while travelling. That was until I discovered the magic of Argentinian steak. It certainly lives up to its rep.
Another thing I noticed is that radio here only plays Argentinian music. In Peru and Bolivia, I heard everything from Rick Astley to Pearl Jam, with only a few songs in Spanish on popular radio. There are several reasons for this. Argentina is quite larger than other countries down here and has quite a booming music industry. The 80s music at almost any club in South America is probably from here.
Argentina´s pride and joy is a fella named Charly Garcia. Charly, fresh out of rehab, has a new single about all the folks who wear Che Guevara shirts. Charly says, "Hey, if you wear the shirt...You should know why."
