Winter Break (Pt3)

From Posadas onto San Ignacio. An hour or so down the road and home to Argentina's most accessible Jesuit ruin. Accessible because it's in the middle of the village (really, really, too small to call a town). A very nice lady at the bus stop offered to look after my backpack and when I declined pointed me in the right direction for the ruins. Now, remember what I said about me and directions? Well, I had a map, I'd read the guidebook and I thought I know where the hotel was. HA! I walked six blocks forward (a block is a standard measurement here, the towns all being built on a grid system - why the hell don't we do that in the UK, eh? Com'on, I want to know!), knew I was lost, asks some kids who pointed me to the left, walked one block to the left and found a street sign, checked my map and walked six blocks back. Just in case you haven't grasped the enormity of this, let me repeat. I walked six blocks forward, one block left and six blocks back. I found the hotel... one block to the left of where I originally started - still the walk was nice.

Booked in (no problem although the full sign went up later), unpacked (as much as I ever do) and went a walking. As I said the village isn't that big and I was hungry so first stop was food. I went into one restaurant, saw the coach party and backed out very quickly. I'm sure the food was fine but places like that make me itchy. I think they're all set up for speed and damn the quality. Went to a scrubby looking place across the road (no coach party would deign to eat here) and had a decent if slightly overcooked steak. Bit more wandering around, bought a couple of pretty but trashy bits of costume jewellery at the market and rounded off the day on the internet. Early to bed because I wanted to get up early the next day. I did eat out that night but, my god, what a mistake.

By then the weather was freezing. Those of you who know me well, know I rarely feel the cold but... a vest, a t-shirt and two fleeces couldn't keep me warm. It didn't help that the 'restaurant' itself was basically just a corrugated tin hut with the kitchen outside and the waiters kept leaving the door to the kitchen open. I didn't quite eat with my gloves on but I nearly did. To make things worse, I couldn't have any tea because they didn't have any milk.

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As an aside, while in Paraguay, I got used to their version of tea with milk which was to froth the milk as you would for coffee, then add a teabag. It sounds (and, indeed, tastes) odd but I got used to it and it's ok for a bed time drink - especially considering the weakness of the tea here.
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Having seen the coach party hoards the previous day and bearing in mind the guidebook advice that the best photos are got early in the morning, I was up and out by 8am. Ok that's not early for the majority of you but I was on holiday (and I've never been a morning person unless I haven't been to bed - then, boy, you should see me [or maybe not]) ummm... where was I? Oh yes, at 8:30 I presented myself to the ticket office, got my little guide (not a person) and in I went. I wasn't the only person there but I was one of the first and, because I don't speak Spanish, I sped around the exhibition and onto the ruins pretty quick. I was able to wander around more or less on my own and take lots of lovely photos (well I think they're lovely). I knew my time was up when I had to wait for a family to get out of the way so that I could take a photo. More details of this in the next post.

This all took me to mid morning and brunch. When travelling I find that my days are divided by when I have my meals. This brunch was eaten at a cafe opposite the entrance to the ruins and allowed me the opportunity to watch the coach parties arrive more or less all at the same time. Said coach parties included a group of monks (or possibly trainee priests) who I guessed were local as they were drinking mate. Brunch was followed by a stroll back to the hotel for a post-brunch sit and think. The hotel had a table and benches in the garden which were perfect for doing this. They were in the sun and out of the wind, shady but warm.

Later I strolled out of town to the house of Horacio Quiroga. A Uruguayan writer who was involved in the excavation/restoration of the ruins (I think). It was a three kilometre walk out of town for a fifteen minute look around and a three km walk back but I enjoyed it and it filled the afternoon.

I spent most of the evening wondering whether I should make the effort to go up to Iguazu falls but the truth was I couldn't be bothered. I was cold and a little bit bored. It wasn't that I was missing BsAs or the flat, just that I hadn't spoken to anyone in English for a week and I wanted to sleep in my own bed (I am turning into my mother). So the next day I went back to Posadas and then onto BsAs.