After our brief trip to Uruguay, it was time to put a few more Argentina stamps in our passports, and head back across the Rio de la Plata to Buenos Aires. We had a nice AirBnb for two nights there before heading west to Mendoza. We’d been excited to get a couple more nights in Buenos Aires, since we’d loved it there so much, and didn’t feel like we’d spent enough time there. We’d talked of taking another tango class, or maybe even going to a tango dinner show!

Instead, we did some trip planning at a nearby cafe, caught up on laundry, did yoga, and then Erika read while I played video games all day. Apparently we needed to disengage a bit. I’ll speak for Erika and say that neither of us have a complaint about how we spent that time.

Mendoza

We took a late afternoon flight to Mendoza, getting there just after dark. A taxi took us downtown to the AirBnb Erika had found for us, where we met the owner, to get keys and get checked in. His name was Enzo, and he was a wonderful, friendly man. He greeted us warmly like long time friends, and showed us into our place for the week. He also spoke patient, clear Spanish, which I for one greatly appreciated.

After we got settled in, we headed out to explore the neighborhood a bit and get dinner. Our place was just a few blocks from the main city square, the Plaza Independencia, so we wandered that way. The city is centered around this plaza, and there are four smaller plazas circling this larger one. Fun little historical fact: these plazas were built after Mendoza was leveled by a massive earthquake in the 1800s, and they were intended to be meeting points the next time such devastation visited the city. Comforting!

Our Luck Runs Out

The next day, we’d intended to just hang around town, and figure out the best ways for us to get out of the city to some of the wineries. It was early autumn in Mendoza, and as we’d learned between the previous night and this morning, there was something that was wrecking us allergy wise. So sniffling, and itch-eyed, we left our place to get some lunch.

There was a cafe on our block that looked fine, so we stopped there, opting for one of the patio seats because it was a beautiful day. After a few minutes, a waitress approached.

“¡Hola!” I greeted her.

“Hola.” she replied.

“¿Cómo estás?”

“Bien.” she replied. Then simply stared at me for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“Uhh… ¿tiene un menú?” I tried. Fortunately, she obliged.

I’m sure I don’t have to say so, but this was a weird way to start. Why the hell else are we here?

Erika hinted at this in her last post on Uruguay, where she reveled in the excellent customer service we experienced there, but customer service in Argentina is… not excellent. This isn’t universal of course, it isn’t Washington DC; we had some excellent service. But whew, it was rough.

I’m using this cafe to make a second overall point too, because the food there sucked. Our dinner the previous night: also mostly sucked. We were quickly rocked back on our heels. Remember, I’d talked about how in Buenos Aires we could do no wrong–everywhere we went was amazing. As I’d said, we’d gotten spoiled by that fact, and now here we were unable to find decent food anymore. We popped into random places: bad, expensive food. We researched on Yelp before going there: still sucked. What happened?

We made the most of it and turned our attention to getting out to some wineries. There were super expensive ways to get there: individual tour operators that charge in the neighborhood of $180 USD per person to go to three wineries. There were mid-priced ways to get there: a hop-on-hop-off bus that gave you the opportunity to hit 3 or 4 of the wineries that they serviced. There was the dirt cheap way: take a city bus out to the area then walk to the wineries that were within walking distance.

We decided the next morning to try the dirt cheap way.

And it was great! It was just a couple bucks per person for what turned out to be an almost 1-hour ride out to an area where we figured there were 5 wineries we could fairly easily walk to. This was in the Lujan valley. The Mendoza wine region is largely divided into three valleys: Maipu, Lujan, and Uco.

The only slight complication with taking the bus is that you need a bus card–the Red Bus (Bus Network) card–to enter and pay. These can be bought (and recharged with money) at various kiosks around town. At the kiosk we bought ours from, the clerk was exceptionally friendly and helpful, so this detail was no problem at all.

Bus Guy

When we got onto the bus, there were only two seats available, one behind the other, so we sat separately. Almost as soon as we’d sat, I’d wished we’d sat in opposite seats, as the guy Erika sat next to looked like a… character… and I just knew he’d start trying to talk to her before long.

The nice thing about being in a foreign country that doesn’t speak your language, is having the built-in escape mechanism of pretending you don’t speak their language. Erika and I had talked before about this, and game-planned where to say we’re from when playing dumb like this:

• English speaking areas are no good, because a lot of people are going to have English as a second language
• There are a lot of Germans in Argentina, so that’s not a great idea
• Ditto Italians

We decided on France because, to someone who doesn’t speak French, we could plausibly pull that off. I speak an okay amount of French, and Erika is familiar with it too. But that is really where it ends, so the ruse won’t hold up long.

Obviously, bus guy started talking to her. She played dumb like she didn’t understand.

“¿Habla español?” he asked.

She smiled politely and said no.

“¿Francés?” he asked next for some god forsaken reason, but fortunately he did, so Erika didn’t wander into that trap and claim she was French. Because of course he spoke French, as he was in the armed services in Belgium for a time. We found that out when he asked Erika if she was a “soldier.” Why in the world would that be an opening question? Because this is bus guy, that’s why.

Bus guy ended up giving Erika–and then eventually me, as well–some book that, as far as we could tell from glancing at the back cover, was at least partially about police brutality or some such.

“This is correct,” bus guy said as he handed me the book. “This is right.” I meekly offered a “gracias” and took it.

Fortunately, it wasn’t too long before bus guy’s stop came up, and he bid us adieu. Thanks for the literature, bus guy.

Lagarde

We jumped off the bus about a block from the first winery we were going to try, Lagarde. The guard was super friendly, but seemed skeptical that we could get in without a reservation. He made a call and, just our luck, we could head right in!

They were starting a tasting just then with a small group, and we joined in. I’ll keep this short: it wasn’t our favorite. The tasting was a bit cold and impersonal–which normally I wouldn’t care about in the least, but with the more personal tastings we had in Chile, and would continue to have in Mendoza, it stands out–and the wine was just okay. They did have a Voignier that was quite good, but I’m not in Mendoza for Voignier–I’m here for Malbec!

Lagarde did have beautiful grounds, though, and we spent some time after the tasting looking out over the vineyards before moving on.

Striking Out

After leaving Lagarde, there were two other wineries listed on the map, on the same road, within maybe a quarter of a mile. So we went for those. And they were both closed. Like, with no signs of ever being open. Maybe they open for reservations only? We just naively assumed if they were on the tourist map, they were able to be visited.

Oh well, we said, this is part of the reason we bused to this particular area, because there are a number of wineries nearby. There were two more that were close on the main road the bus came down, so we headed back that direction.

“Solo con una reservación”, said the brusque guard at the gate of Luigi Bosca winery.

But, we’re right here, and we have money! Hmmm. Well, we’re 1 for 4 at this point, that’s a pretty poor batting average. There was one more winery listed just a few blocks away, 2 for 5 wouldn’t be so bad right?

“Is this it?” Erika said, as we looked at what appeared to be just a house. Google maps showed us right in front of the place.

“If it is, it doesn’t look very open to visitors.” There was a driveway along the side of the house, but from the street you couldn’t see anything back there.

We sighed, having struck out again, and pulled out the winery map. Alta Vista winery was about a mile away, but indicated it had a restaurant as well.

“With a restaurant, surely they’d be open?” Erika theorized, and suggested we walk there and find out.

We were about to leave when the hop-on-hop-off wine bus pulled up. Two guys got off, looking as confused as we felt, but the guide on the bus gestured and assured them this was the place. They started up the driveway, and we followed them.

Carmelo Patti

Walking up the driveway, it still didn’t feel like something open to visitors, but at least we had strength in numbers now. As we walked into a large, open structure that was basically a garage, an older man called out to us from an office.

“I’ll be just a minute!” he said cheerfully, in Spanish. “Go on inside!”

We did, and found a bottling operation being done by hand. Four or five people were sitting around putting labels on wine bottles, while boxes on boxes of wine surrounded us, ready for shipping. After a few minutes, the older man from the office came in and greeted us warmly.

This was Carmelo Patti, and this operation going on around us was basically his winery out of a garage. He doesn’t grow the grapes, he buys them and then simply makes the wine, all of which is produced here in this little area we’re seeing. Googling and reading about him online, it’s clear he has the popularity and fame to run a bigger operation if he wanted, he just doesn’t want to.

He took us on a brief tour of the room we were in, showing us the packages ready for shipping, showing us various bottles of his varieties, and discussing at length how much he ages his various wines. He also told us that he sells to an Oregon-based distributor, so we may be able to find the wines back home too.

Oh, this was all 100% in Spanish, by the way. But he speaks so clearly, and so expressively, that even with my limited vocabulary I was able to follow most of what he said.

He took us to another room back toward the front of the garage, near the office we’d seen him in, where he had wine for us to try. He waxed poetic about each of the wines as he had us try them. The man is pure passion for wine–passionate about creating it, and passionate as well about drinking it and enjoying it. The ritual of wine is important to him, and he spent time talking about the best ways to open the bottle, to decant it, and finally to drink it.

And oh, my goodness, the wine. It was superb! He had us try four–a Malbec, a Cabernet Sauvignon, a Cabernet Franc, and a blend of those grapes. They were beautiful wines, made all the more special by the personal tour their creator took us through.

Erika told him it was her favorite wine tour ever, and I agreed. We bought a bottle of wine from him, that we could have together before we left Mendoza. As she was putting the bottle into her bag, Erika noticed the books from Bus Guy.

“Would you all be able to recycle these, maybe?” she asked Carmelo and one of the other workers who had come up during the end of our conversation. She explained how the crazy guy on the bus gave us them, but we didn’t just want to throw them in the trash. The other worker took them from her and started to flip through them, with great amusement. We all had a good laugh, and we said goodbye.

Thank you Carmelo for the personal attention, and what was easily the best part of our trip to Mendoza!

A Picnic at Alta Vista

Reinvigorated, we decided to go ahead and do that walk up to Alta Vista winery. When we got there, they did accept us in, and happily too, but told us all they had food-wise was either a small picnic basket, or a large one. And, they closed in an hour.

We opted for the small picnic, and it was such a great time. We sat on a blanket, on the beautiful lawn, by ourselves as we were the only people visiting at that time. For something like $35 USD, we got a few mini sandwiches, some cheese, a salad, and a dessert. Oh, and three generous glasses of wine each. We thought it was just three glasses of wine total!

This seems as good a time as any for a related aside, but wine pours in South America are typically very generous. Far more generous than you get anywhere in the states. Whether it be at restaurants, bars, wineries, wherever, you get a lot of wine for what is already a very low price for a glass. Drinking wine at restaurants is such an overpriced experience back in America. Here, it’s irresistibly cheap.

We finished our picnic feeling quite good, and headed out to find one of the city buses to take us back to town. The picnic was a great time… and oh, I didn’t mention, Alta Vista’s wine was very, very good!

The Gang Finds a Good Meal

I’ll be honest, we didn’t love Mendoza, over all. Erika and I figured if you went there with money as somewhat less of an object, you’d have a better time. You could do the more expensive wine tours, and eat at the really expensive restaurants. We didn’t want to bleed money like that here, for obvious reasons. And it was disappointing to leave Buenos Aires, where food was cheap and superb, to come here and spend more for worse food.

But we found a good meal! And it consisted of burgers and Manhattans!

Erika had found the place well reviewed for their cocktails. Good reviews had meant nothing in this town so far, but this time was different. It also got us over into a different area of town where there seemed to be better food options. It was somewhat far from our place though, and there were so many restaurants between our place and here, that we just never made it here. Live and learn!

The Manhattans, though. Whew, they were good. It’d been a while since we’d had bourbon!

Clos de Chacras

On our last full day in town, we once again mounted the city buses to head out into Lujan valley to hit one more winery. We went to Clos de Chacras, which we felt was safe from us being turned away since they had a restaurant. When we got there, they said we could have a really expensive meal at the restaurant, and a tour after, or we could do a less expensive tour and tasting right now. We did that.

We joined a tour that had just started, which walked over the grounds a bit before diving into the wine cellars. It was a great tour, that the guide gave in English and Spanish simultaneously, which was fun for practicing language.

The tour finished with a very personal wine tasting, as our tour guide walked us through a number of different wines. They were quite good! However, the tasting also came with some cheeses and crackers, and one of the cheeses was best in show. One other couple did the tasting with us, a lovely older couple from Finland. We spent the time talking about travel, life in Finland, and life in the states. It was a wonderful time.

Enzo is the Nicest Person in the World

I want to finish up talking about our AirBnb host, Enzo, who is easily the nicest person in the world. Erika messaged him the day before we were to check out, in order to ask about how to check out. We also asked him for advice on how to get to the airport the next morning. We had a super early flight, and had to leave the apartment around 6 AM. We weren’t sure if taxis would be easily available off the street at that time, or if we should try to reserve something ahead of time, or what.

Enzo offered to take us to the airport.

Now, come on, would you do that? If you were hosting an AirBnb, would you take your renters to the airport at 6 in the morning? Erika and I joked we wouldn’t even take our own family!

That brings up something Erika and I talk about a lot: people are just nicer here, here being Latin America. They’re just, generally, far nicer and more willing to help other people, than people are back in the states. Not only just big things, like Enzo offering a ride to the airport, but little things all the time. And we’re hardened to it. People come talk to us, and I instantly sort of shut them out, hardened by years of living in DC. What do they want, how are they trying to swindle me, etc. But, no, usually they just genuinely want to be helpful, or genuinely just want to talk, are genuinely interested in hearing about us.

So at 6 AM the next morning, on the button, there was Enzo, smiling and helping us to the airport. We meekly offered to give him a little cash for going so out of his way, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Then he went and wrote a super nice review of us on AirBnb.

Muchas gracias por todo, Enzo, y nos vemos!

What’s Next?

Well, as mentioned, we had a stupid-early flight to Puerto Iguazú, where we’d spend a few days exploring the mighty Iguazú Falls. This would also be where we’d end our Argentina adventure, and cross over into Brazil! Come back soon to check out the spectacular pictures of the falls!