Church of Nuestra Señora del Pilar.
I woke up and had some breakfast after sleeping in a tad. Then, I packed most of my things up, leaving out only the necessities for showering and changing into my flying clothes. I walked over 10 miles today. First stop was to find Eva [Evita] Peron's tomb at the La Recoleta Cemetery. Yesterday I couldn't figure out where to enter the cemetery and learned I walked right past it, but I think the guards were closing it when I walked by yesterday. Anyway, I was warned to keep to the left and follow the tour groups. I wandered a bit, amazed not only by the size of this place but also how big these tombs are. It's like the cemetery is a city in itself.

It started to rain and I couldn't find the section of the Duarte tomb. I walked past a family in mourning, visiting the tomb of their recently deceased loved one, who were shushing tourists who were being loud. Finally, I found a large tour group and followed them to the black Duarte tomb. It's not on a main path and just a few rows down from where that family was mourning. A very simple tomb, black and marked "Familia Duarte". There were flowers laid at the foot of the tomb.

After crossing off "see Evita's tomb" I pulled out my map (it had stopped raining) and plotted my route to the large obelisk in the center of Av. 9 de Julio (the busy, multi-lane road). I snapped some photos and noticed ladies in pink handing out pink flags for the car windows. I also noticed a huge sign with "Avon" on it, also in pink and balloons that say "Women". It took me most of the day to learn it was International Women's Day.
Av. 9 de Julio- I think it's 18 lanes wide
I found my way to Casa Rosada- the pink [government] house where Evita walked to the balcony to greet the people.

I was told on Thursdays that at Plaza de Mayo the Madres (or mothers) of abducted children [stemming from the Dirty War 1976-83] walk around quietly. I walked around and didn't see any women walking around. But then again, I did notice stages and signs of protest in the Plaza, so maybe I wasn't looking hard enough. I was a little freaked when I walked past a line of Argentine Federal Police in full riot gear b/c they must have known something I didn't. I walked around the front of Casa Rosada where they had photos of the current president.

I then looked at my map, thinking maybe the mothers walk on the other side of the government house. So, I start walking and I hear drums and a lot of chanting...now I see why there were so many PFA's in riot gear. I was walking right into a HUGE protest. We are talking 12 people wide that stretched for blocks, walking right into the streets. A lady and her daughter were ahead of me and stopped me trying to ask what this was and I told them I didn't speak Spanish, I had no idea how to say I didn't know what they were protesting. I kept walking around the fence of the government building grounds which I felt safe enough doing, I did have a close call with some protesters drumming up along the fence, away from the large crowd, but they didn't bother me other than say something to me in Spanish [which of course I didn't understand] but I got the feeling it wasn't anything bad or negative they were saying to me. So, no madres de la Plaza de Mayo. I walked back through the heavily guarded area back to the main plaza- away from protesters.

Next, I knew I needed to go back to the hotel. It was hot and I was nearly out of water and I hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. I roamed around shops (pedestrian malls on Florida St) and was thinking of souvenirs, trying to remember the area Aiden and I walked through a couple days ago, but after roaming around in circle, I headed back towards the hotel. It was much easier finding then yesterday, but then again, I learned a lesson. It's better to stop and look at street signs and the map than to wander around hoping you'll figure out where you are at in relation to the hotel.
Instead of stopping to eat at a restaurant, I found the supermarket "Disco" that was a few blocks from the hotel and bought a large container of water, some cheese and two bags of Yerba for Mate to take back with me to the States. I had rolls left over from yesterday's farm, so I had bread with brie and my free wine from buying a paper in Mendoza. I also showered and then sat on the bed, putting pillows under my legs. I had walked 8.89 miles and my calves were aching.
My car to the airport was supposed to pick me up at 6pm, so I had a couple hours to kill. I really wanted to get some souvenirs, but didn't feel like walking all the way back to Florida St. after showering and resting. So, I pulled up Google Maps and located a Starbucks about a 15 minute walk away (towards the area I got lost yesterday trying to make my way back to the hotel before we left for the Tango show). I went and purchased an Argentina Starbucks mug- my souvenir to myself. I decided I would buy some stuff at the EZE airport, after all, what's an airport without a souvenir shop?
I have the front desk print my boarding passes for me and I say my goodbyes to the people from my group who are still around. The guys say that my transfer will be here shortly...I have to remind myself that this is a Latin culture and they work on their own time. It's 6:15 and I'm reassured they are en route. 6:30 and I begin to freak out a bit, I see a car pull up and the driver gets out, but he doesn't come in. I ask the guys at the desk if I should go stand outside and they didn't know. I stand outside and one of the front desk guys ask which airport I am going to, I tell him the international airport and he relays it to the driver who doesn't speak English. If I was fast enough thinking, I would have pulled out my phone and typed it in my Google Translator App and tried to communicate with the driver. I learn that he is the day driver and can't take me and we are waiting on the other driver, who finally shows at 6:45pm (My flight leaves at 9:20pm and I am told it's over 1.5 hours away!) and I'm pissed and worried I'm going to miss my flight.
This driver speaks English and I worry that he is taking me to the wrong airport after I ask him how long it takes to get to the airport. He said 45 minutes and I'm like, there's no way. He asked me what time my flight was and he said I'd be fine. We hit traffic. The sun is going down, it feels like it takes an hour to just get to the freeway. Thankfully, once we do get to the freeway, we don't hit much traffic. He drops me off and it's a little after 8pm. I sign the paper since the tour company arranged this transfer after my Chile transfer from that airport didn't show and head to the American Airlines ticket counter. I get into the line for all services, but then notice the bag drop line is shorter and faster, so since I already have my tickets, I switch lines. Then, 3 people ahead of me in line, our line stops moving and they start bringing people I was in front of in the other line over. I finally ask the agent working why our line has stopped and she said they are on the flight leaving in 30 minutes, and I asked if that was the NY flight b/c I'm on that flight. She apologizes and I'm next in line. Unbelievable.
But the fun doesn't stop there. After answering the usual questions like "who packed your bags", "where did you pack them", etc. I am handed the customs forms and told to go upstairs to the gate. Where I have a long ass line. I try asking someone that works there and she said I had to go to the end of the line. It takes at least 15 minutes and that was just the line for them to match our boarding passes with our passports. Then, another section is a line, one I gather for nationals and the other for international passengers. This is for security. I see that the girl in front of me to check in is cutting in line and ask her if they sent her there but she said she had to be in the other line since that was for Argentinians. So, I go back into the long line freaking out and spot an American with an AA boarding pass, but she says she is on the later flight. But I somehow communicate with a few spanish speaking girls who seem to be in the same boat and we cut in line for security. Security is quite different than the US security. I watch to see how people do it. Shoes are left on, bags are put through the x-ray machine, we walk through the metal detector. I go to grab my stuff but then am stopped and the girls in front of me communicate that the security person has to pat you down before you can grab your stuff and go to passport control. Oy vey! Now I'm really freaking b/c my fight had already started boarding well over 15 minutes ago. So, I'm patted down and I rush towards the next long ass line. I ask a group of airport employees who are standing around doing nothing and explain to them that I have to catch my flight that leaves in 15 minutes and they tell me to go into the left line. Well, I do and I'm like I have to cut to the front and of course the guys I cut don't speak English. But, I go to the passport people and see the girls who were in front of me, follow me by also cutting. I get through and I rush to my gate which is doing last call for boarding. By now I am sweating! I stand in line at the gate, wishing I had time to pee and grab some souvenirs, but I don't. I talk to 2 girls in front of me who also had to cut and run through the lines, one of them goes and buys bottled water. The gate agent looks at my ticket and I start going towards the jet bridge but am stopped. They rescreen everyone before letting them on the jet bridge!! Unbelievable. So they call me over, ask if I speak Spanish [I'm starting to wonder if I look like I do] and the guy goes through every zipper pocket of my purse and backpack then tells me to remove my shoes, which he searches and then pats me down. I don't ever want to hear complaints about our US TSA security screening procedure!! FINALLY, I have my ticket scanned and I can board the plane. I ask if they are a NY crew and they say yes (thank goodness it's not a pure nationals crew). I make my way to my seat, put my bag in an overhead compartment and throw my stuff in my window seat and go to the toilet. Afterwards, I introduce myself to the flight attendants in the back galley and strike up a conversation with one who has been based in JFK, doesn't know my mom, but we chat for awhile. I make my way back to my seat and get situated. The gal next to me asks if that was my passport, that was sitting on my purse, she told me it was on the floor. Thankfully it was and she picked it up, it must have fallen when I threw my stuff in my seat to go pee. I don't know what I would have done once we landed in NYC and find that my passport is gone.
I feel much better about this flight than my MIA to SCL. I'm asked by the guy in charge of the meals if I requested a special meal and said yes. The plane is a larger plane than what I came in on...2-5-2, with a business class (which I'm determined to purchase on any flights longer than 10 hours going forward). I'm served dinner which I'm so thankful is pasta and not some Indian dish [something tells me I'm not going to be able to eat curry anytime soon]. I of course have red wine with my dinner. If I learned anything on this 2 week trip, it's to eat slow b/c I was served first with my special meal and yet I was one of the last ones done. They followed dinner with coffee/tea service and I opted for coffee with sugar and cream...there was a lot of cream in my coffee. Then I watched movies. I didn't want to bug my neighbor so I didn't get up to get my travel pillow and it was really hard to sleep and even after taking off my shoes, my legs and feet were really sore and bothering me. My feet felt slightly swollen and I kept wiggling my toes to make sure the blood didn't stop circulating. Man, never have I had such issues with my feet/legs while flying than on this trip! I catch up on quite a few movies: "The Muppets", "Tower Heist", "New Year's Eve" and after taking a rest, "J Edgar" (which I don't get to finish b/c we land before it ends). They wake us up for breakfast service, which again are croissants and I'm not sure I can stomach it, but do. The sun is coming up and we are 40 minutes away from NYC- American soil! I stand in line for the toilet and stretch my aching legs. We land before 6am and all is quiet in the city I once loved.
We are told by the captain that Customs doesn't open until 6am so we can't get off the plane until 6. I fill out my form and do not disclose that I was on a farm (I didn't want to have to go through agriculture screening- which I heard is long and they go through everything). I figure, I walked on dirt and grass and I did not touch or eat any animals, wasn't bring back any fruit or seeds (other than my trail mix which I brought with me from Boston at the beginning of my trip) but wasn't quite sure where my two big bags of Yerba for Mate fit in the whole list and really didn't want them to confiscate them- then what would I use my Mate container for? I did declare my wine (not specifying the quantity). I was really surprised at how easy it was to go through Customs. I didn't have to get my fingers scanned, nor my photo taken, didn't have to ask any questions. I think the only things I said were "good morning" and "thank you".
Next, on to claim our luggage and go through the second check. They look at my form and passport and I'm on my way. I follow the path and there are AA agents asking if we are connecting, I give my suitcase to an employee at the conveyer belt to transfer my luggage and out I go. Now, I don't know if I went the wrong way, but I have to go back through security to go to the gate for my flight to BOS. It's harmless, I opt out and my things are scanned and I am patted down. I have 30 minutes before boarding and make my first phone call in over 10 days, to my dad! (My mom is flying back from China so she couldn't be reached.)
The BOS flight is wide open, but I'm in the middle seat between two guys. We all get up so we can have a row to ourselves. It's a quick flight into Boston, less than an hour and no beverage service. A little bumpy. I wait for my bag, which looks fine and I'm hopeful my wine was packed nice and snug and didn't break inside. I get home and drop my things. I need to shower and fix something to eat before I go to bed. After being up for nearly 30 hours straight, I crash a little after 11am and wake up at 6:30pm. A little concerned I slept right through the night, not being used to the sun setting so early [it didn't get dark in S.A. until after 9pm].
It is then, I remember I have gone nearly 24 hours without a glass of wine- which is weird seeing we started drinking at 10am and had wine throughout the day until dinner which was usually around 10pm. I open a screw top white I had (I didn't want to open one that brought back with me and didn't have any other wine I wanted to open)...it was a Chardonnay and it was bad. I kind of feel like a wine snob now- at least when it comes to Argentine wines! I should probably try to ween myself off from wine. What a great trip! I'm now able to knock one more continent off my list, and place 3 more pins on my map. Now I just need to get to the "A" continents: Asia, Australia, Africa and Antarctica.
Oh- and I realized once I got home that my legs were hurting on the flight b/c I walked over 10 miles before flying and not b/c of swelling or b/c of flying. Though I'm sure, there was slight swelling, but the aches were from sore muscles.