Buenos Aires - Spanish for "We Eat Meat"

Well, my latest trip has finally begun! It was off to a bit of a rocky start when I arrived at the Jacksonville “International” Airport to discover that my flight to Miami was delayed by 40 minutes. This is not a good thing, considering that I would now have only 20 minutes to catch my connecting flight to Buenos Aires.

When I landed in Miami, it was pouring down rain. Normally, this wouldn’t be a concern. After all, in modern airports, planes pull right up to the boarding gates and passengers never have to experience the weather. The problem is that American Airlines flies “puddle jumpers” between Jacksonville and Miami. These are small regional planes that are the red-headed stepchildren of the airline industry. In Miami, they’re not allowed to connect to a jetway. Instead, they park on the tarmac and a bus comes by to pick up the passengers to take them to the terminal. So, while walking from the plane to the bus, I got soaking wet. This meant that I’d be wearing wet clothes for the next ten hours or so.

A word of caution about American Airways…DO NOT FLY THEM…especially if you’re over 5 feet tall! As it happens, I am 6’4” tall and I have very long legs. I was flying coach, and there was simply no room for my legs. I had to spread my knees the best I could because the seat in front of me was so close! To make matters worse, the guy in front of me reclined his seat as soon as the wheels left the ground. The back of his seat was so close to me that I couldn’t even hold a book in a comfortable reading position.

To cram ever more people aboard their planes, airlines are quickly reducing the amount of “pitch,” which is the distance between the front of one seat and the back of the next. This reduces the amount of leg room, which is very important to tall people like me. American Airways is one of the stingiest airlines when it comes to “pitch” in passenger seats. If you don’t want to feel like the guy in front of you is sitting in your lap…avoid American Airways at all costs!

After a sleepless night, I arrived in Buenos Aires at 6:20 a.m. local time. Much to my surprise, the officials there demanded $131 U.S.!!! They had signs posted everywhere explaining that this was NOT a visa charge (which I believe would violate a treaty between Argentina and the U.S.). Instead, the money was a “reciprocity” charge. Basically, the U.S. decided a while back to charge Argentine citizens $131 to enter the U.S. Argentina decided to pay back the favor by charging U.S. citizens to enter their country. Actually, I can’t say that I blame them. Plus, this is a business trip…so it’s not my money!

When I picked up my bags at Customs, I was shocked at how soaking wet they were. Apparently, American Airlines baggage handlers let my bags sit on the runway during the pouring rain in Miami. Now, all of my clothes were nice and damp; not soaking wet, but definitely not dry.

Once I cleared Customs, I was met by a driver holding a sign that read, “Roberto Doty.” I thought that was a nice Spanish touch. He helped carry my bags to a waiting car, and we were off to my hotel.

The first thing that caught my attention on the way from the airport was the military “pill boxes” that were placed on the main road every few hundred feet. In years past, these concrete bunkers would be manned by armed soldiers who could aim their weapons through narrow slits. They’re not in use today…at least, that’s what I’m told.

An hour later, we arrived at the Abasto Plaza hotel, which will be my home for the next week. I think I’m going to like it. It’s directly across the street from the Abasto Market, which was built in 1893 and originally served as a central farmers’ market. Today, it’s a modern shopping center. When I got to my room, the first thing I did was give the bed a thorough test-drive. I slept for nearly six hours straight.

In the evening, I was picked up by Tony Novoa and his beautiful wife, Betina. We enjoyed a wonderful dinner at a traditional steak house. They served every type of beef and pork imaginable; sausages, steaks, chops, and even a house special “minced beef milkshake with crumbled bacon bits”.

OK, kidding about the milkshake. But let it be known that if there’s a national dish in Argentina, it’s going to have a large helping of beef. It’s also going to be served late in the evening, by American standards. In fact, dinner didn’t even begin until 9:30…and I was dropped off at my hotel at 12:30 a.m.

On Thursday morning, work began in earnest. Tony picked me up, and we headed to his office. The building was constructed in 1969…the same year I was born. It has the coolest elevator. To get in, one has to open a folding metal door and then a collapsing metal gate sort of thing. Then the outer door is closed, followed by the metal gate. As the elevator moves from floor to floor, the only thing that separates the riders from the elevator shaft is this metal gate. It would be quite easy for a careless person to lose a finger or two between floors.

That evening, Edi Alvarez and his beautiful wife Haydee picked me up to take me to yet another incredible restaurant. There, we met his daughter Carla and her fiancé Sebastian. Tony and Betina joined us a bit later. When I heard my hosts speaking Spanish, I could pick up the term “paella” being tossed about. I like paella. In fact, it’s one of my favorite dishes. Yet, on the English menu I was provided, there was no mention of the dish. There was “Seafood and Rice,” but that’s hardly the same thing. Finally, I had to say something. I asked Haydee if this restaurant serves “paella,” and she was a bit surprised that I knew what it was. So, we all ordered paella…and it was awesome!

I was dropped off at my hotel well after midnight, and enjoyed a deep and peaceful sleep with visions of Tango dancers, slabs of beef, and bottles of Mendoza whirling above my head.