Oktoberfest, Pizza y Jazz...

What do cerveza, pizza and jazz have in common? They are universal in nature. They bring the world together. No, really. Eat, drink and be merry. Pizza, cerveza y la musica. The Argentine people embrace all three and we love them for this.

Let's start with Oktoberfest: on Wednesday, Oct 8, Todd found an online reference to the infamous beer celebration that is held annually near Cordoba. He talked me into missing a jazz festival that weekend and instead signing up with a tour group to head to Oktoberfest. We went by the office of Supernov on Thursday and managed to land the last two spots for the trip. Prost!

The buses were set to leave between 9:30-10pm for an overnight ride to Villa de Santa Rosa where the hotel/hostel is located. Yeehaw. With 120 people to check in & get on board, we end up leaving just after 10pm. And get this: although we have heard a bit of english spoken, it is a flurry of excited, muy rapido espanol all around us. Um, yeah, we were a little intimidated. And to top it all off, we seemed to be the oldest people on the tour - by, like, five to ten years. Um, yeah, at this point I am feeling a little, well, Old! Good thing I covered up those greys before leaving Ft Lauderdale. :)

Our seats are in the very back of the bus and two guys eventually make their way back to the seats across the aisle from us. They are speaking a mix of Spanish and English with American accents, so after some time we introduce ourselves. One is studying spanish in Buenos Aires and the other, who has been studying in Argentina for two years, currently lives in Cordoba. They whip out a bottle of cheap, bad vino from their backpack and pass it around. We chat, read, listen to some tunes and hold out for the one stop the bus makes at 2am.

Todd & I make a beeline for the bathrooms and then head up to the food counter for some late night grub. We share an enormous Milanesa sandwich (have I mentioned that Argentines eat heartily and don't skimp on anything?) and a litre of something (plus two cans of Quilmes for the road). Shortly after the bus ventures onward, the lights are turned off and most everyone makes an attempt at sleep. Needless to say, we did not get much sleep on the hot, bumpy bus ride through the Argentine countryside. We arrive at the hostel around 9am and wait in line to get our room number & key: Room 15, first floor, directly across from the lobby and quite possibly the noisiest room in the entire two story building. More on that later. We basically drop our bags on the floor and crawl into bed with the intention of waking for the city tour which I thought was going to be at 1:00. Well, it turns out that Lunch is at 1:00 and that we missed the walking city tour, so we opt for the extra day at the festival instead. We have a nice, rowdy lunch (have I mentioned that Argentines like to whoop it up, sing & clap loudly?) sharing cervezas with another group of American exchange students and then have two free hours until the bus leaves for Oktoberfest.

It is sunny and lovely outside and unlike in Buenos Aires, the mountain air is clear and clean. Almost everyone is outside lounging in the sun, dipping in the teeny pool, playing guitar & singing, chatting in groups and downing cervezas. This is sort of a younger, drunker version of the siesta. Todd sniffs out the ganja and wanders over to practice spanish with his new amigos. I join them after a bit and we both manage to converse reasonably fluidly with the two guys. More beers, more relaxing and I am beginning to see that familiar lushy look in Todd's eyes. Yes, this is foreshadowing.

All of those going to the festival that day pile into one bus and we finally head out around 5pm. It should be a quick ride as we were told the hostel was only 7 km (4.3 miles) to Villa General Belgrano where Oktoberfest is held. Thirty minutes and some picturesque countryside later, the bus is turning around. The driver went the wrong way. The bus is on the verge of a riot, although in drunken Argentine fashion, this just means a group of folks yelling Puta! very loudly and then laughing and singing another song. Sometime between 6-6:30, we pull into the bus parking area near the festival and unload. The sky is darkening just over the tops of the hills and thunder announces that rain is imminent. Coinciding with our literal entrance to the festival grounds, the rain commences. Damn the bus driver!! Todd and I bolt for one of the several beer stein booths and pick out a couple of souvenir mugs. We had worn our Birks and as they are not very amenable to rain & mud, we opt to shove them in my bag, roll up our pants and slosh around barefoot. How very Austin. Things were a mess and not exactly fun, but once the rain lightened up a bit we made our way over to the Warsteiner booth and filled up our steins. The music and dancing had been cancelled for the night, so there was really not much to do but drink beer, wander around and be entertained by all of the yahoos who had been there since the festival opened. Prost!

We got one more round of beer and decided to wander into the town to find a dry place to eat and chill out. We find a small place just outside of the festival exit that smells great, so we put our shoes on, roll down our pant legs and wait for a table. After a small incident with a group of rude older Argentine women trying to cut in front of us, we decide to just buy a bottle of wine, a few empanadas and find a table outside under the awning. We are invited to join another couple from the tour group that had just scored a table. He is Argentine and she had recently moved here from Missouri to be with him. They buy two more bottles of wine and before long a few more folks turn up and join in the revelry. At some point, Todd goes from being lushy to downright intoxicated and runs off to find a cigarette. More bottles of wine are bought during his brief absence and Marcus, a Swedish exchange student sits down to share a glass. We launch into conversation and he tells me, all sparkly-eyed, how cool it is that Todd and i are the oldest couple on the trip and that we are taking this three month journey. Me likey those Swedes! :) After a final glass of vino and more boisterous conversation, we decide to head to the bus to wait for the midnight-ish departure. As we get up to leave, Todd jovially falls into the table and there is a collective "woah!" followed by laughter. Si, vamos ahorita. Arm in arm, we stumble back to the bus, stopping momentarily to request another cigarette from a kind (and very amused) gentleman. Wet, tired and perfectly drunk, we fall asleep on the bus and awaken to the inevitable clamor of young, intoxicated Argentine singing, clapping & general loudness announcing that it's time to return to the hostel. Buenas noches, todo la hente!

Understandably, we slept in until, oh, lunch was well under way and had a very low-key second day at Oktoberfest. We ate some mediocre pizza and bought a couple of souvenirs, had a few beers (local craft brewery, Antares, being the star), snapped a few pics and spent a lot of time wandering around and people watching. We took the early bus (10:30) back to the hostel and called it a night. Back to being the nearest room to the front lobby, the late bus arrived close to 1am and the youngsters whooped it up in the lobby until the sun came up (making sleep close to impossible). Viva la cerveza! The bus ride back was long and uneventful and we were grateful to be back in our lovely little apartment. We slept close to twelve hours, utterly exhausted from the lively weekend at Oktoberfest.

Speaking of cerveza: One of our favorite places in all of Buenos Aires is Buller, a brewpub we happened upon one night after the guitar festival. The brews are actually quite good (Todd favors the IPA, I like the Hefeweizen) and the pizza rocks. They have a real wood-burning oven, thin crust, fresh toppings and a $15 pitcher of house-made sangria that is dessert in a glass. Oranges, apples, strawberries, bananas, grapes & kiwis blend harmoniously with the vino tinto, azucar y brandy. They even bring you a dessert spoon to scoop out all of the fruit - delicioso!

As an aside: Last Wednesday night, we attended a Debate Watching Party hosted by YanquiMike, an expat and blogger in Buenos Aires. We were surprised at the number of exchange students, expats and tourists that showed up - the place was packed! And not surprisingly, overwhelmingly in favor of Obama. I believe most Argentines share that sentiment as well. Talking to people in other cultures about the far-reaching effects of the Bush administration reaffirms the notion that this has been the most detrimental presidency in US history. It is not difficult to understand why many other countries are skeptical of Americans.

Pizza y amor: We love, love, love pizza. That's universal, right? I love to cook pizza, we love to seek out the perfect pizza and Buenos Aires would seem to be next in line only to Italy in the amor de pizza category. There is, literally, a pizza place on almost every corner. There are at least three within a two block radius of the apartment building. Heaven...we're in heaven (sneaky jazz reference). Although, to be honest, there is some pretty mediocre pizza in this town. But research, local recommendations and luck have turned us onto three memorable spots: Buller, Filo and Piola. All three cater to our crispy thin crust tendencies, use traditional wood-burning ovens, have interesting topping combinations (brie, arugala & beef carpaccio?!), light sauce and moderate mozzarella. Bingo! Not exactly Perfect, but damn close.

And finally, la musica: Remember that jazz festival I gave up so that we could spend close to 24 hours on a bus, drink with college kids and buy an Oktoberfest straw cowboy hat? Well, fortunately Buenos Aires is a city that loves music and the jazz festival we missed was only a precursor to the International Jazz Festival the following weekend. How cool is it that the government of the city of Buenos Aires hosts all of these amazing musical events and sets up free concerts all over town? So, yes, we spent this past Friday and Saturday evenings at an open aire stage only a few blocks from our apartment listening to some of the best and most loved jazz musicians in South America. Anyone want to go in on a place in Buenos Aires with us? :) There was a group of young swing dancers present both nights that danced off to the left of the seated area - it was a nice accompaniment to the music and added a vibrant energy to the crowd. From traditional, to big band, to rockin', to genuine swing, the jazz was incredible and as Bachicha, the star trumpeter and singer that closed out Saturday night's set, so eloquently said, Jazz brings the people together.

It is true that cerveza, pizza and jazz speak a universal language and we are doing all the we can to immerse ourselves in the translation. What a wonderful world...