Rosario, Argentina

Rosario is chiefly notable for being the birthplace of Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara. Che was a spoilt little rich kid, a cowardly and murderous sadist, whose chief contribution to world history was assisting in the establishment of a despotic regime in Cuba which continues to imprison and impoverish millions of people to this day. However he was quite good-looking, and rode motorbikes a lot; and that makes all the difference, right?

OK, that was another rant, but it was only a short one.

More significantly from my point of view, Rosario was a useful stopping-off point to get a nice hotel room with a big telly, on which I could watch N*wc*stle 1 SAFC 1, shortly after breakfast on Sunday. Stephane Sessegnon has dropped a few notches in my estimation, although that bleating nonentity Alan ‘Noo-castle’ Pardew remains pretty much where he was.

I’m really getting into the swing of Argentina. I’d say it’s definitely my favourite country so far on this trip. It doesn’t quite have the scenery that you get in Peru or Bolivia – my last two bus rides have been very straight and very flat cruises through seemingly endless expanses of farmland (Argentina occupies more than ten times the land area of the UK) – but it makes up for that with lovely towns, endless sunshine, fabulous wine and food, and indeed a pretty passable beer industry. Up until now in South America I’ve had to make do with various generic lagers, so I’m glad there’s more choice here. I’ve sampled quite a few different things: the biggest brand is Quilmes and they do a ‘red lager’, plus a fairly strong Bock and even a stout. Perhaps the cultivated Irishman might turn his nose up at the latter? I thought it was quite drinkable. Another brewery to watch out for is Patagonia, who do a very tolerable ‘Weissbier’, although it isn’t cheap, even in the supermarkets.

One problem I still have, and I fear it’s too late to do much about it now, is my comprehensive failure to get anywhere with learning Spanish. In my defence, there have been widely differing accents and dialects to cope with in all the five countries I’ve visited so far. I can certainly do all the essentials in bars, restaurants, hotels and taxis, but beyond that I can’t really communicate much above the level that might be gleaned from a Gloria Estefan greatest hits album. I did try though. Kind of.

That’s all for now. I think I might have a lot more to write about next time.

Parque de la Independencia, Rosario

Che Guevara corner.
Not sure if this is exactly the right building. Don't really care. See above.

Funny name for a cafe. Another one for the Viz...