LAN Flight 4027

We were scheduled to return home to BA on Saturday afternoon last. It was to be a short two hour flight, and then, another hair-raising taxi back to the apartment.

We arrived at the airport in good time and boarded the LAN Airbus for flight 4027 with about one hundred sixty others, mainly foreigners. The region had been plagued with weather during our brief stay, which  seemed the norm for the tropical summer. Huge, dark thunderstorm clouds surrounded the airport, just as we experienced when visiting the falls.


Upon take-off we immediately ran into turbulence. That can be expected especially in the heat of a rain forest, and normally I expect things to settle as the plane reaches its cruising altitude above the weather. On this day the turbulence became much worse and it was obvious we were flying into quite a storm cell.

The captain addressed us, calmly, once or twice about the turbulence and to advise us stay in our seats. No one needed much encouragement. About fifteen or twenty minutes into the flight, and still not out of the turbulence, the captain came on again to advise, again fairly calmly, that we were returning to Iguazu immediately. Ice had caused a crack in the cockpit's windshield. He apologised as we banked steeply for a bumpy return to the airport.

Cracks in cockpit windshields are not terribly common, though they do happen apparently. It doesn't take much imagination to think about what might occur at ten or twelve thousand metres, so we were grateful for the safety-first position of our pilot and his honesty in reporting to his passengers.

What happened on the ground in the airport was less attractive, as the LAN agents had difficulty coping with the situation. What we needed was direct and open communication about what might happen with rescheduling our flight. Instead there was general confusion and an inability to communicate much of anything. Effort was made to get some connecting passengers on flights out of Iguazu, but for most of us, it was a long afternoon that turned into an evening, in a small airport, waiting and waiting. The line-ups never seemed to end and never provided any answers. Sherry and I retreated to the restaurant upstairs, partly to get away from some of our fellow passengers. It's amazing how quickly people can move from being grateful for being safe and alive, to being frustrated and angry about an unfortunate, but truly unpredictable situation.

Finally, almost five hours after our flight returned to the airport we were told we would be taken to a hotel for the night, provided with a meal, and returned to the airport the next day for our flight to Buenos Aires.

Twenty-four hours after we were originally scheduled to return to BA, we arrived, this time with only minor turbulence in the air. The taxi ride home was, as expected, full of twists and turns, going through stop lights, and weaving around cars and pedestrians both. But we arrived, safe and sound, and grateful.

Chutzpah

Our friend, John Harris, recently sent me this wonderful example of chutzpah:

Chutzpah is a word that means having gall...brazen nerve...effrontery...sheer guts...plus arrogance. It's Yiddish and no other word, and no other language, does it justice. 

A little old lady sold pretzels on a street corner for a dollar each.  Every day a young man would leave his office building at lunch time and as he passed the pretzel stand, he would leave her a dollar, but never take a pretzel. 

This offering went on for more than three years. The two of them never spoke. 

One day as the young man passed the old lady's stand and left his dollar as usual, the pretzel lady spoke to him for the first time in over three years. 

Without blinking an eye she said:
"They're a dollar and a quarter now."

Chutzpah.

Iguazu ~ Boutique Hotel de la Fonte

We flew to Iguazu for a few days last week to view the spectacular Cataratas del Iguazu. It's a two hour flight from Buenos Aires and the two cities, one on the Argentinian side of the river, the other in Brasil, are filled with tourists from around the world.





We stayed at a small, somewhat rustic hotel called Boutique Hotel de la Fonte. A French name, with an Italian chef, and a decidedly Argentinian flavour, the hotel has only ten rooms.

The rooms are actually small cabins surrounded by a tropical garden of flowers, trees and much falling fruit. This is not the Sheraton; the water pressure is low and it would take hours to fill the room's hot tub. Our room fixtures were old and not everything worked, and it was all quite charming in an old-world kind of way. We heard the sounds of dogs and birds and even marching bands preparing for Carnival, but little else from the city. In truth, the constant drumming from the marching, at one in the morning, was a wee bit annoying.




Owners, Matteo and Simona, have created a wonderful retreat where serving the guest is a first priority. When we arrived in the afternoon we asked if there was something we might be able to have for lunch, rather than going out. With the restaurant only open after 7:30pm we knew it might be difficult, but within a few minutes a beautiful vegetarian pizza and glasses of wine were served to our patio.

Matteo Lagostena is a first rate chef and he provides a delicious alternative to the Sheratons of Iguazu, using local and fresh produce, fish and meat. It is truly amazing, and all quite inexpensive. The wine list is sparse, but that is in keeping with the needs-some-work nature of the place.




Hugo, the friendly parakeet, commands attention at the hotel, hanging out during the day near reception. He is happy to perch on your shoulder and share pieces of fruit with you. And that cough of his? Don't worry. It's only an avian flu.





Visit the hotel's website at
Boutique Hotel de la Fonte

Iguazu ~ The Falls

The Cataratas del Iguazu are one of those wonders of the world we are supposed to see, and it didn't fail to impress, though at times you wish all the people, and the fast food would disappear.

Located in the north-east corner of Argentina, the name comes from the the Guarani people, and means big water. The Guarani have lived in this area for over one thousand years, displacing the original hunter-gatherers who arrived perhaps as many as ten thousand years ago.

The falls were discovered by Europeans in 1541, with the Guarani then displaced by Spanish and Portuguese. The Guarani continue to have a presence in the region.

The cataratas are part of a national parks system that protects the environment on both sides of the river, in Brasil and Argentina. The Argentine park is 550 square kilometres in size and was established in 1934. It was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1984.

Weather is a factor when visiting the falls. In minutes the weather can change, and certainly did while we were there: from bright sun, to clouds, to a torrential downpour and back to sun again. One never gets dry in this environment with summer temperatures nearly always above 35 and humidity of 80 to 100. 

The Iguazu rain forest is part of the Amazonas, but does not receive as much precipitation, nor does it have the same abundance of species. Still, there are jaguar, ocelot, tapir, coati, caiman and a multitude of butterflies, birds and snakes all the same. Most of the jungle's life forms come out after the sun sets (the Park closes at 6pm) though we did get to see a variety of creatures, some, but not the one on the right, wearing Tilley hats.























We joined a river rafting group, with Pipo as our guide. Torrential rain ensued, just after we came upon a croc.



Not having enough of that persistent jungle-water smell on our clothes, hair and bodies, we then took another boat into the falls themselves where water crashed down on us from over 80 metres above.






The Devil's Throat, or Garganta del Diablo, is 82 metres high, 150 m wide and 700 m long.  For comparison, the Niagara Falls are 50 m high.

It was great fun, though the clothes never dried, and the camera was knocked out of commission midway through the day.

And what better way to relax on the way back to our lovely hotel, than to take a taxi flying along a roadway clearly marked 60 km/h, at an impressive 125! There is a stretch along the highway where speed bumps are employed to slow the traffic. Speed bumps on a highway!  No problem.

And storm clouds on the horizon. But that's another story.

Photos by Jeem. Copyright 2013 by Jim Murray.

Street murals in Buenos Aires

Graffiti is everywhere in Buenos Aires. Sometimes it is colourful and pleasing, other times political, and most often simply destructive and ugly.








More serious street art is also seen throughout BA. On abandoned buildings, walls, or under rail bridges. It can be truly amazing.