A coach takes us there. I have never been so comfortable in my life on public transport. The seats recline and include upholstered leg rests. The journey is far too short. We arrive at midday in a quiet town in the pampas, the flat grassy plains south of Buenos Aires full of soya fields, cows and white settlers called gauchos.
The streets are empty when we arrive. The sun is beating down. The sky is deep deep blue. The buildings have two floors and flat roofs. We check into the only hotel and go for a pizza on the only square in the exact centre of the town. On the square a young man is handing out flyers to remind that today is the 31st anniversary of the beginning of the military dictatorship (1976-83). He is alone and the music from his small sound system echoes around the almost empty streets. He has hung up photocopies of photos of some of the people from the town who disappeared under the dictatorship. They flap in the gentle wind. The scene is idyllic and ideal for a relaxing weekend away.
We drink delicious sweet malt beer and eat two whole pizzas between the two of us. Then we go and have a siesta in the hotel. The room is small and on the dark side but very quiet.
After the siesta we go for a stroll around the town. We play the original Pacman arcade game and several rounds of table football, which I win until francesca warms up and starts giving me a bashing. We climb around in a playground sponsored by the lions club until we get cold. Later we have a simple dinner in the hotel. I spray water on the entire tablecloth because I am unable to use the ´sifón´, a big bottle of soda water with an inbuilt tap/spray so you can serve from it without lifting it up. We smoke in the restaurant which feels naughty as this is forbidden in Buenos Aires.
The next morning I am pulled from deep sleep by loud music piping out of a speaker right in front of our window. Over breakfast the waiter explains that it is the village birthday today. We are delighted.
There is a podium in the colours of the national flag and on the podium there are the mayor and other important people. In the second row there is a man in a black and red military uniform with a moustache and aviator shades. It is sunny and clear but not very warm. Men in gaucho uniforms, their wives and children on bicycles start to line the street outside the hotel. When everyone is ready there is an announcement of who is there and why they are there and the mayor makes a raising speech with lots of references to the fatherland. The national anthem is sung and the parade begins.
First up is a group of mounted police in gala uniforms. They are beautiful. Seeing them I too want to wear a sword and a pistol and a stripe down my trowsers and hold a flag that means everything to me. Then comes an old red German fire engine. Then horse carts and carriages of all sizes are drawn past us. A lot of them are decorated in swirling, colourful patterns. One is drawn by five horses, around twelve metres long and stacked high with sacks of wheat. It is painted in blue and white and for a moment we could be in Bavaria.
After the siesta we go for a stroll around the town. We play the original Pacman arcade game and several rounds of table football, which I win until francesca warms up and starts giving me a bashing. We climb around in a playground sponsored by the lions club until we get cold. Later we have a simple dinner in the hotel. I spray water on the entire tablecloth because I am unable to use the ´sifón´, a big bottle of soda water with an inbuilt tap/spray so you can serve from it without lifting it up. We smoke in the restaurant which feels naughty as this is forbidden in Buenos Aires.
The next morning I am pulled from deep sleep by loud music piping out of a speaker right in front of our window. Over breakfast the waiter explains that it is the village birthday today. We are delighted.
There is a podium in the colours of the national flag and on the podium there are the mayor and other important people. In the second row there is a man in a black and red military uniform with a moustache and aviator shades. It is sunny and clear but not very warm. Men in gaucho uniforms, their wives and children on bicycles start to line the street outside the hotel. When everyone is ready there is an announcement of who is there and why they are there and the mayor makes a raising speech with lots of references to the fatherland. The national anthem is sung and the parade begins.
First up is a group of mounted police in gala uniforms. They are beautiful. Seeing them I too want to wear a sword and a pistol and a stripe down my trowsers and hold a flag that means everything to me. Then comes an old red German fire engine. Then horse carts and carriages of all sizes are drawn past us. A lot of them are decorated in swirling, colourful patterns. One is drawn by five horses, around twelve metres long and stacked high with sacks of wheat. It is painted in blue and white and for a moment we could be in Bavaria.
After a while we get scared by so much regard for tradition and countryside values an go eat ice cream and take pictures with our new digital camera. Here´s one of me and one of Francesca´s feet:
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