Mucho gusto Buenos Aires.

Living in a country for a year, with travel before and after, presents problems with how much luggage to carry.  We have in total six wheelie suitcases and four backpacks with various teaching supplies, clothes for all seasons, medicines and a few Nerf guns.  Argentine taxis are not as big as Australian ones and we’ve been using two taxis to go to and from bus terminals to our apartments in each city.  Even then it’s a bit of squeeze.  This morning, as we were leaving Rosario, we hailed a taxi, his eyes almost fell out of his head when he saw our luggage.  He said that there was no way he could fit it all in.  We explained that we always travel in two taxis.  It’s almost like we’re spies trying to keep one step ahead of enemy agents.

Armed with advice from the internet about the shifty deals some Buenos Aires taxi drivers try with tourists we stood with our luggage trying to hail a taxi at the BA bus terminal.  We hailed two at once, told them our location and asked for a rough price.  He quickly calculated 150 pesos for each taxi.  300 pesos seemed too much so we declined his offer and let someone else take the taxi.  The next taxi was a maxi (snigger).  That means that I can sit with my head not touching the roof, you can fit more than your shopping in the boot and there isn’t a roster allocating each passenger their turn to breath.  He wanted 240 pesos.  The negotiations stopped there and he drove off almost turning Indy’s foot into a pancake.  A third taxi driver waved us over, I explained our predicament and he said the price was set at 190 pesos – about the same amount we paid for two taxis.  He also had a maxi taxi (snigger) and as such there is a slightly higher price.  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that he could drive his maxi taxi inside an Australian maxi taxi.

We made it to our apartment without any pickpockets trying to distract us with bird poo on our shoulder, taxi drivers doing thirteen laps around the Town Square or seeing a man having potatoes hurled at him and then returning with a baseball bat.  OK, so the last one happened but some old lady placated the man who had the baseball bat as we legged it out of there.

Slight segue to propinas or tips.  During our Andes crossing, the conductor handed out a pre-packaged sandwich and a cup of soft drink.  At the end of the night he asked for his propina.  It’s customary to give the baggage handler at the bus terminal a few pesos when they load your bag, then in the next city you give the person who unloads your bag some money.  I offended the handler in Mendoza because I was still thinking in Chilean pesos instead of Argentine pesos.  I thought I was giving him enough for a cheap meal but in hindsight I was offering him enough for half a packet of Tic-Tacs.  He was happy to let me know how cheap I was.  As we were leaving Rosario this morning the baggage handler, being of the vintage variety, asked me to help lift one of our larger bags.  I did so and then continued with the rest of our luggage.  I was half way through loading our bags when he asked if I had a propina for him.  I was the one breaking a sweat.  I asked him if the tip was for him or me.  He said it was for him.  I asked him who was doing the work here.  Even after the jest, he wasn’t too proud to take the tip.

Truce enjoying cama ejectivo comfort 

How much should you tip?  We’ve fallen in love with the media lunas (croissants) here and they cost about 6 pesos each.  We now judge people’s level of service in how many media lunas are they worth. 

This evening after our four hour bus jaunt we hit the streets of Buenos Aires in search of some empanadas for dinner.  We found a groovy cafe in the San Telmo Mercado called Coffee Town.