Soul-searching: From the Argentine Pampas to Hong Kong

For more photos of el Rocio, check out my photo album on facebook.

When I started this post, it was to recount a day and a half spent in the Pampas outside Buenos Aires at Estancia el Rocio, in the warm hospitality of Macarena and Patrice Graviere. I had wanted to experience what Argentine life was about. I got a taste of the gaucho/polo-playing life at Estancia el Colibri in Cordoba and I was looking forward to similar at Estancia el Rocio.

It's been nearly six weeks since my stay there (yes, it seems I've been a bit delinquent), and a lot has happened in the world. I absolutely enjoyed my stay with Macarena & Patrice. They were the perfect hosts, warm and welcoming. They run el Rocio with a passion for welcoming each guest as their personal friend into their home. The rooms reflect this with their comfort and thoughtful design as do the home-cooked meals where everything from condiment to cocktail snack to proper meals have been lovingly homemade. And I had a couple wonderful riding lessons with Martin, the polo pro, who had just returned from a season of play in Moscow the day before. Everything was idyllic.

Six weeks later, it seems much less relevant, almost inappropriate, to write about that wonderful experience. It seems so out of context, both physically and psychologically so far away from the reality that I face sitting today in Hong Kong. On a gmail chat thread with a friend this morning, she had typed: "Strange, scary and interesting times we live in."

It's an odd feeling to feel the hope and good fortune that one feels when waking up to a beautiful, sunny, and clear (i.e. unpolluted) day in Hong Kong, yet know that we are steeped in crises, uncertainty, anxiety and a leadership vacuum. Over the past few weeks, I have spoken to friends in the hedge fund industry. And when the whispers are that even the really smart people running funds of the likes of Citadel are anxious, it doesn't incite much confidence.

The financial crisis has incited plenty of "soul-searching". A lot of people who have been living life with a sense of certainty and entitlement are now faced with new and different sets of choices, some seemingly less attractive, even unpleasant. Seeing the fear, angst and unhappiness that this creates in friends, I wish that each could take a ride with Charlie, my driver to and from el Rocio. Charlie's a rolly-polly, jolly, happy-go-lucky kinda guy. He moved from Scotland to Argentina when he was very young. On the car ride to el Rocio, he recounted his life story and was incredibly hospitable (He made sure I wouldn't waste my money by buying bottled water at the airport, extended an invitation to his home for a home-cooked meal by his wife). He's lived a fascinating life, which has taken him around the world, doing a wide range of things -- born in Scotland, grew up in Argentina, played rugby in South Africa, served in the British military (memory fails me as to branch and location) and now teaches English (Shakespeare) while driving guests of el Rocio.

It was refreshing to spend two hours in the car with Charlie. For him, life was about connecting with other people, each person presented a brand new opportunity to learn something, to share something, to make a difference. In his eyes, the world is a simple place. Simple, because wealth and success is not about numbers on a portfolio statement. Rather, it's about how generous we can be with what we have. Sometimes, in focusing on what is, or no longer is, in the glass, we forget about the glass altogether. If we take a moment to look at the glass, we might discover that it's a beautifully-blown, Murano glass goblet that casts a kaleidoscope of coloured rays of light all around us.

When Charlie dropped me off at Ezeiza, he handed me his boinas (gaucho beret), "Something to remember me," he said. As I sit here, finishing off this post, the Dow having ended a spectacular 6-session losing streak with an equally breath-taking 11+% rally yesterday, it's his outlook that I remember.

Serendipity Strikes Again!

The mood this week, unless you're a hermit, has been pretty dour. The week started with the bankruptcy of Lehman, the sale of Merrill Lynch to BoA, the rescue of AIG and stock markets around the world plummeting to unseen depths. Conversations with friends ranging from fellow entrepreneurs to bankers to those in various industries has been filled with uncertainty and anxiety.

Today, as I woke up, the gloomy weather reflected the mood of days past. During my morning yoga class with Wendy, as we heard thunder and the rainstorm pattering on the windows, Wendy observed, "When it rains, change comes". Stretching in downward dog, I agreed with her observation, but I was thinking along the lines of change that might come a few months down the road (i.e. Barack Obama in the White House, stiffer regulation governing short-selling, etc.). Little did I expect, that change would come when the rain stopped.

After yoga, I headed to Segafredo for coffee, free wifi and a dry, quiet, comfortable place to finish writing my blog entries on my recent trip before my meeting with Marie So (no relation to me). Earlier in the month, an e-flyer for a talk by Marie had landed in my inbox: "Yaks for Development: Social Entrepreneurship in China on the Rise" was the title of the talk. The talk was scheduled for 20 October at KEE Club and I thought it was a perfect background talk in the context of my Grameen Foundation field trip to Sichuan scheduled for that following weekend, which also coincided with a recce trip for a client outside Chengdu. In preparation for the Grameen Foundation trip, I've been reading Muhamud Yunus' Creating a World without Poverty: Social Business and the Future of Capitalism (I had actually said half-jokingly and half-hopefully to some banker friends that perhaps all the out-of-work bankers might find a calling to create more socially-sypathetic businesses, go into microfinance or come up with innovative ways to finance and incubate fledgling social enterprises). So when the e-flyer came, I thought it would be great to meet a practicing social entrepreneur with a business that I found interesting (luxury consumer lifestyle products, see Shokay for their beautifully-designed accessories for home, babies and fashion made from sustainable yak down). Shokay is one of two start-ups created by Ventures in Development, a social enterprise that uses "innovative approaches to solve social issues while applying traditional business skills to achieve sustainable financial and social returns". Marie and Carol Chyau are co-founders of Ventures in Development, a business idea they cooked up while they were classmates at Harvard's Kennedy School of Government three years ago.

I dropped an gmail chat to DA at Time Out Hong Kong and suggested I write a profile on Marie So for their Hongkonger column. "Why don't you just let me send one of our writers. We can't afford to pay you, you know. Unless, of course, you have the writing bug," replied DA. "It's OK," I typed back, "Just come to the talk with me. I do have the writing bug and I want to meet her," I typed back.

So I dashed off an email to Marie and set up the meeting for today. I expected to hear all about yak down and yak cheese. But I was in for so much more. My personal holy grail has been to come up with a project that uses luxury travel as a platform for creating social change and sustainable economic development -- one that combines my interest in luxury travel & lifestyle, consumer technology and microfinance, more specifically, their ability to unleash a new class of entrepreneurs, ways of thinking and doing things. But thus far, the light bulb idea has eluded me.

Within minutes of Marie sitting down, I found out that she was piloting three sustainable tourism projects in northern Yunnan, in the region bordering Tibet, working with the Lisu tribe to help preserve their culture and way of life. Suffice it to say, we had a very productive hour and a half conversation. Now, my October trip to China has further evolved to accommodate the new ideas from our chat over two skinny lattes.

There's a saying in Chinese: "守得雲開見月明," which in English basically means that if you patiently wait for the clouds to break, you will see the brightness of the moon. As I left Segafredo, the sun was shining.

For details and to register for Marie's 20 October talk, download and fill in this form:
OC_Newsletter_-_ViD.doc

Autumn in Paris

The first signs of autumn were visible on Avenue Montaigne as I was walking to L'Astrance for lunch last Thursday. It was my last day of the month-long trip that took me from Hong Kong to New York, Buenos Aires, the lakeside slopes of Bariloche, the polo fields of Cordoba, an elegant estancia in the Pampas, a steamboat in Monte Carlo and now culminating in a lunch at a Michelin one star restaurant -- L'Astrance.

Skyping with BDL, I had typed on my last morning in Paris: "I love, love, love Paris".
To which he enquired, "did you get lucky?"
I replied, "Scoring a reservation at L'Astrance was very lucky!"

I have been trying to get a table at l'Astrance each time I've been in Paris, since the days before Pascal Barbot was awarded a Michelin star. On this trip, I called up a couple days before my arrival in Paris and asked for a table for 3. None was available during my entire stay. Finally, I asked for a table just for one. And that's how I managed to get a table at L'Astrance on my last day in Paris, for the last meal of my month-long trip.

Suffice it to say, the 5+ course lunch was phenomenal. The "+" represents all the little surprises they sneak in before, during and after your meal). There was one particular "+" that was especially memorable. With each course, the waiters would present the dish and give a brief explanation. But for this particular bowl of frothy cream with a dollop of vanilla ice cream in its midst, the waiter coyly placed it in front of me and said with a mischievous smile, "I don't know what this is." When he came back to collect the bowl, he asked, "So what do you think it is?". I shrugged and guessed that it was something with almonds. It had reminded me of the Chinese dessert of almond soup, except it was creamier in colour and a bit airy in texture. He smiled, shook his head and said, "I'll give you another chance." I finished off a second bowl. This time, without the vanilla ice cream. And still, it tasted like almonds to me or at least some kind of nut pureed with cream, because there was a fine graininess to the creamy froth. I won't ruin the surprise here, but I was really, really shocked when he told me what I had been eating. Totally unexpected, but once he said it, it made perfect sense.

All the other dishes were more easily identifiable, but no less spectacular in taste. There was foie gras, beans, langoustine, turbot, duck and a sampler of four desserts (my favourite was the lemongrass and chili sorbet). Alexander the sommelier, who tasted and spit out everything before he served it, served me a glass of 2005 pinot noir from Anne Gros. By the end of the meal, I was ready to roll out of the restaurant.

I rushed back to finish packing. I left with a sadness that comes from leaving family or friends after a particularly wonderful stay and not knowing when you'll see them again. As the taxi pulled into CDG, it suddenly started to pour. How apt, I thought. Time flies, seasons change. How quickly a month passes by. On my travels, I've experienced a year of seasons -- winter in Bariloche, spring in the Pampas, summer in New York and signs of autumn in Paris. I've felt a year condensed into a month.

Now I'm back in Hong Kong catching up on my blog, back to this city's stifling heat and haze, yet still pining for the wonderful walks along Paris' sun-drenched cobblestoned pavements, the smell and the crunch of the baguettes washed down with cups of cafe creme. I was in the midst of writing about polo when I got a call from DT wanting a Paris update since he's heading there tomorrow. Of course, I mentioned l'Astrance. But when I got off the phone and back to my post on Cordoba, all I could think of was all the things I'm missing in Paris. So here's my list, in no particular order:
1. Falafels from Chez Marianne in Marais on the corner of rue des Rosiers and rue Hospitalier St Gervais
2. Matcha macarons from Patisserie Sadaharu Aoki (actually, I'm missing real Japanese matcha). Everyone loves macarons from Laduree, but I can't get over their dowdy packaging.
3. Breizh Cafe's crispy gallette rolls smeared with a healthy spread of seaweed butter.
4. Baguettes slathered with French salted butter with a spoonful of artisanal honey. In this instance, it had been brought back by a friend from her recent visit to Michel Gros.
5. Crossing the bridges of the Seine by moonlight.
6. Walking everywhere and having it be a pleasant experience. On one particular day, I managed to clock up a half marathon worth of walking! A lot of Parisians swear by velib, the cool bicycle service. There are velib bicycle stations all around town, but I was a bit too intimidated by Parisian drivers to try.

When I left, I was still looking for a patisserie that made caramel au sel eclairs. The Fauchon in Shinjuku's Takashimaya had served them, and they're one of their best-sellers, but I was on a quest to find one from a more neighborhood patisserie. I found all other flavours from the usual chocolate and cafe to strawberry and even green tea at Sadaharu Aoki, but I never did find my caramel au sel. But, as I consoled a friend who will soon be moving from Paris to Shanghai, Paris will always be here. So there's always next time!

A World Away Living the Argentine Life in Cordoba: Estancia el Colibri

The American in me has a romantic love for the cowboy/home on the range/dude ranch life. So naturally, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to experience the Argentinian gaucho life as well as take a couple of polo lessons; as the Argentines are great polo players. So I decided to head to Estancia el Colibri.

I've always enjoyed riding, and I've like watching polo. The speed and grace of the horses paired with the agility and poise of the riders in the midst of swinging mallots and horses on a crash collision course makes it a nerve-wrecking game to watch. So I really wanted to see what it takes to play polo.

Peo, el Colibri's polo pro preparing for an afternoon on the polo fields

I got a taste when I spent an afternoon with Peo, the polo pro at el Colibri. Now I'm hooked. And I'm not even a strong rider. Peo is a wonderful teacher, especially since he didn't speak English (except to say, "in our country" followed by a demonstration of riding position, to emphasise that there is a difference between English and Argentine riding styles) and I hardly understood Spanish. Peo is an incredibly encouraging teacher, the kind that is good at finding fun ways to help you learn the various skills required for polo.

But probably what made me a much better rider than I actually am in Argentina is the horses. I have never ridden on such well-tempered and responsive horses than at el Colibri. Later, when I mentioned this to Stephanie, the French proprietress, she responded simply, "Yes, they are like F1 horses."

Estancia el Colibri, I learned, is the result of a conscious decision of Stephanie & Raoul Fenestraz to transplant their lives and that of their 3 children from France to Argentina. Raoul's family is in the hospitality business in Courchevel. I found their story appealing. It's very American, in a way, reminiscent of the pioneers that headed out to tame the wild, wild West. Stephanie & Raoul had a vision of starting a new life, in a country that harks back to a different era, a seemingly simpler time -- "Buenos Aires reminds me of Paris 20-30 years ago," Stephanie was lamenting the passing of a more laid-back, less commercial Paris.

The Fenestrazs moved to Argentina six years ago. Estancia el Colibri was three years in the planning, opening three years ago. Just last year, they acquired another property in Salta, the northern part of Argentina, called House of Jasmines. When I first met Stephanie on the polo fields the afternoon of the Saturday I arrived, she greeted me with, "It's a wonderful life here, isn't it." To which, I had to agree. I arrived in the morning in time for breakfast.


Olivier, the manager, had arranged for me to go on a ride around the 400-acre property with Martin, one of the gauchos, and another couple. The property is a working farm and is therefore fairly self-sufficient in terms of supplying meats, vegetables and eggs for the various meals. Apparetnly, kids love taking part in the farming activities.




In the afternoon, guests were invited down to the polo fields for a match the Fenestrazs had organized to celebrate their eldest daughter's 17th birthday. That evening, they were throwing a party in the clubhouse, to which guests had been invited as well.


Returning from the polo match, a couple of guitarists were playing in the living room for the evening. Olivier had organized a pre-dinner wine tasting. We were ushered into the wine cellar, where an incredible spread of mouth-watering hams and cheeses had been laid out to accompany the three Malbec wines we were tasting (one each from Patagonia, Salta and Mendoza).


Dinner was asado (Argentine BBQ), with a variety of meats and sausages. The only thing I did not like was the mollejas (sweetbread).

The following morning, I went for my 10K Nike+ Human Race run in the polo fields, followed by a wonderful breakfast of poached eggs, ham and toast with lots of dulce de leche, of course. It was actually the chef here that told me it takes 4 litres of milk, 1kg of sugar, 1 tsp of baking soda, vanilla and six hours of stirring over low, simmering heat to make 700g of dulce de leche. I would later learn the short-cut version. The afternoon was spent on horseback with Peo and chatting with Stephanie.

Very early the next morning, Stephanie drove me to the airport while her eldest daughter slept in the backseat (the airport is on the way to her daughter's school) and she was going into town for a workout with her personal trainer. As we chatted in the car, her passion for creating this quintessential Argentine experience for her guests came through. I got the sense that it's about recreating our connection with nature, living a simpler life. As I write this, a week after the near-collapse of America's financial markets (i.e. the bankruptcy of Lehman, the sale of Merrill Lynch, the rescue of AIG, the death of the investment bank), I could understand the appeal, not just for guests, but for a French family to start afresh setting up their idea of a dream life, in a not-yet fully developed foreign land, for guests to experience. It's a wonderful escape -- waking up each morning, a world away from the hustle and bustle of city life, all its worldly temptations and complications.

Buenos Aires Hotel 3: Home

Home gets the distinction of having the cutest breakfast spread of the places I stayed in Argentina.



And it has a lovely garden and swimming pool.


The rooms are contemporary in design, a bit simple but sufficiently comfortable. The small built-in desk reminds me of a dorm room though. In terms of location, I prefer being in Palermo Viejo for its greater concentration of shops and restaurants.


I did enjoy a late afternoon lunch at Olsen (Gorriti 5870, +54 11 47767677), which is just around the corner. Home produces its own little guide book for its guests with lots of insider tips on places to eat and see around town. I stayed in one night to watch Barack Obama give his acceptance speech at the DNC and ordered room service. The menu was somewhat limited. I ended up ordering a spinach quiche, a bowl of tortilla chips with guacamole and dulce de leche Haagen-Dazs ice cream. Not the healthiest of dinners, but I suppose it was the perfect TV dinner. At least they had room service. I remember checking into Chambers Hotel in midtown Manhattan one late afternoon and being a bit annoyed that there was no room service.

Buenos Aires Hotel 2: Faena Hotel + Universe

Faena Hotel + Universe, Puerto Madero
I have to admit, I was not keen on staying here. I've gotten a bit disenchanted with the whole Philippe-Starck-designed hotel where design trumps comfort and uppity models-in-waiting trump service. Before the trip, I had not planned on staying here at all, preferring to stay in the Palermo district. But a last-minute itinerary change meant that we had to return to Buenos Aires a day early from Bariloche, which meant an extra hotel night. Since I was planning on checking out the hotel's el Bistro for dinner, I ended up booking Faena more out of convenience than a real desire to experience it.

I was in for a pleasant surprise! For once, a Philippe Starck hotel has delivered on its promise of service. Upon confirming my reservation, I received an email from Augusto, my experience manager. At first, I thought this was just a form email, more form than substance. But when I landed at Jorge Newbury to find a taxi queue that snaked for ages and was hardly moving, Augusto came to the rescue by sending a car and driver.

On arrival at the hotel, we were greeted by a group of good-looking porters at the door. It was already past 9pm and our dinner reservation at el Bistro was for 9pm. Augusto confirmed that it would be fine to dine later in the evening at 10pm as well as confirming my tango lesson and spa appointment for the next day. I finally showed up to dinner at 10:30pm. It was too late to order the tasting menu, but the a la carte items were delicious. I was curious to try el Bistro after I learned that the chef had trained under el Bulli's Ferran Adria. I found the dishes a lot less gimmicky than I would expect of an Adria-disciple, which is not necessarily a bad thing. My favourite was the capeletti stuffed with stewed lamb with mint air (i.e. that famous foam!), mustard and pickled carrots. The berries dessert was memorable, it came presented in a berry icicle bowl.

fuzzy iPhone photo of el Bistro dining room

To be honest, though, my most memorable Faena dining experience happened at breakfast in el Mercado. It was the first place in Buenos Aires and Bariloche where someone knew what skim milk was! Finally, I managed to get a latte with skim milk. And I learned that in Spanish, skim milk is leche decremada. When I thanked the waitress for the Spanish lesson, she replied: "Whenever you like, I'm here from 8 to 5."

My first skim milk latte in Argentina @ el Mercado

I thoroughly enjoyed my tango lesson with M&F, even if I did find it a bit tough. F kept reminding me: "Tango is very easy for the woman. All she has to do is relax and feel where the man is leading her, no need to think! Even if she makes a mistake, he'll figure out how to fix it."

The gym was very well-equipped (I went for a run on the treadmill) and the spa was wonderful as well. I enjoyed a steam in the hammam after a very relaxing massage.

I pretty much cocooned myself in the Faena Universe for a whole day and it was a very pleasant experience. When I wasn't in the spa, I was working from my room where there was a very spacious desk, and the wifi was free.

There's a desk behind the bed and a bathroom (w/o bath tub) behind the lush, red curtains.

Free wifi in the 3rd!

Am waiting for a table for a cous cous dinner at Chez Omar and
discovered that the Mairie du 3e offers free wifi throughout this
district. Look for the MAIRIE3_METEOR network.

Paris...je t'adore!

Paris just makes me smile. It's one of the few cities that isn't dreary even when it's overcast and raining. It's also a hopeless place to try and eat healthy with all it's tasty temptations -- eclairs, palmiers, macarons etc. And then, there's the bread. Just when I started to think that globalization has turned city travel around the world into one homogenous experience, I am reminded that it's the little things that distinguish one city from the next. For me, Paris is all about baguettes, slathered with a generous amount of slightly salty French butter. Japan is about the Toto washlets. Every time I visit Japan, I've wondered why Toto washlets don't dominate the toilets of the world like McDonalds dominates fast food. Argentina is about dulce de leche and I found my favourite alfajores in Bariloche. Hong Kong is all about the dim sum; I would not eat dim sum anywhere else in the world.

So as I catch up on my posts this week in Paris, I'll be indulging in all the edible goodies this city has to offer over cups and cups of cafe creme. I just wish that Parisian cafes would install free wifi (but I suppose that would take away from the Parisian experience, where penning thoughts into a Moleskine notebook seems more appropriate than twittering on an iPhone). Unlike Buenos Aires, public access hotspots, free or not, are hard to come by in this city. I did chance upon one hotspot though, where I managed to do a few mobile uploads to facebook while standing outside chatting on the phone:

myberry on rue Vieille du Temple in Marais: one of the few places with free wifi and one of the few low-fat indulgences on this street of patisseries, artisanal chocolate and gelato shops.

Nike+ Human Race

El Colibri, Cordoba, Argentina -- I woke up this morning around 8:30am, puttered about a bit, ate a Dulce de Leche Luna bar before heading out to run 10K for the Nike+ Human Race. Unfortunately, I had to run it alone, because EO, who was supposed to be running it with me, had to cut his trip short and head by to Hong Kong after injuring his knee coming off a chairlift on Cerro Catedral. It was a very windy morning. I had to run circles around the estate's two polo fields just so I could be assured that I could run one side of the polo field in the direction of the wind rather than constantly running into the wind, which was really hard work with dust flying in my face. At times, the wind was raging so loudly that I could barely hear the music piping through my earphones. In the end, I ran the 10K in 1h01.

It was my first 10K "race" and it was amazing to be running it in a beautiful country so far from home, which I am visiting for the first time.

Buenos Aires Hotel 1: Legado Mitico

Legado Mitico, Palermo Viejo (also referred to as Palermo SoHo)
I love the location of this hotel. It's just steps away from the shops and restaurants of Costa Rica, Honduras, El Salvador etc. It's a small, intimate hotel with just 11 rooms. There are no room numbers; guests request their brass key by the name of the room (i.e. el Libertador) or the colour of the tassel cord. There are very few staff around. Most of the time, I only saw one person on the reception desk. At breakfast, there would be someone walking in and out of the Library lounge area. Occasionally, I saw a housekeeper and in the evenings, there would be a security guard on the front door, which initially made me feel a little uneasy even though I never felt unsafe walking around the area. The front door was locked at all times and I would have to wait for someone on the desk to buzz me in, which I found slightly annoying.

My room was very spacious and comfortable and the windows opened up onto Garrachuga. As with most places in the area (restaurants and bars), there was free wifi. Staff were very helpful (especially when I had to find my missing luggage.). Legado Mitico is not a fully staffed and serviced luxury hotel with all the amenities (i.e. gym, pool, spa, restaurants, etc.). It's main attraction is comfort and low-key style in an intimate setting in the midst of a trendy neighborhood.


There's lots to check-out nearby. It's great just to wander the streets. A lot of shops sell sports and streetwear. There were the usual multi-national brands such as Nike, Adidas as well as brands like Penguin.


Be sure to pick-up a copy of Time Out (although the English version only comes out once a quarter) and a series of maps Palermo maps by mapas de buenos aires seleccion (They have different ones for restaurants, fashion and homeware/gifts. Get the whole set!).

Lunch at Mott.

cool one-off handmade retro sneaks from 28 sport...

...and of course jars of dulce de leche with chocolate pieces from Tikal Chocolate (Honduras 4890)

More pictures and links from my Argentina trip can be found on the Little Cream Book group on Facebook or in this album.