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.

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.

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.

Beautiful Bariloche

"You can't always get what you want...," but as the Stones song goes, "if you try sometimes, you might find, you get what you need." That was the case in Bariloche.

For several summers, EO and I had been talking about skiing in Bariloche. Each summer, as August neared, our plans for one reason or another would have to be cancelled. Finally, we made it to Bariloche last Sunday. By Sunday afternoon, we were on the slopes of Cerro Catedral with M, EO's snowboard instructor. We went up the first six-person chairlift and found conditions much more promising than at the base, where the weather was mild and the snow hardly visible on the ground. Coming off the second chairlift at the top, EO fell funny on his knee. He was in pain, so he and M took the chairlift back down while I skied back down. That, in itself, was quite the adventure. I learned that there is always a good reason why pistes are closed. And when they are, it's best not to tempt fate by going down them. Despite the ski that turned into a hike in ski boots, complete with a wade across a bubbling brook, I made it back down to the base to find EO in the clinic getting his knee X-rayed. Fortunately, nothing was broken. It's very reassuring to have doctors be able to communicate to you in your own language and to see that ibuprofen is ibuprofen here as well.

So I only managed to ski for 2 hours during my whole time in Bariloche. What did I end up doing for the remaining 3 days? I was staying at the blissful Aldebaran. It was like being at home, warm and comfortable. I never locked my room door, left my laptop in the TV room whenever I went out for lunches and dinner. The rest of the time, I'd be sitting on the sofa or in the breakfast room writing on my laptop (yes, there was wifi). I finally managed to finish something I had avoided for way too long. It had been my goal to complete it on this trip. And finally, I had the perfect opportunity and the most beautiful setting in which to do it. Now I can enjoy the second half of my trip without the spectre of it hanging over my head.

Aldebaran is a wonderful place. Sure there's Llao Llao, which is the grande dame (and feels like it too) of Bariloche and Design Suites, which aims to be the cool kid on the block. But Aldebaran, built 2 years ago by ET, a retired lawyer, is hospitable beyond words, offering the experience of your very own secluded retreat. One night, unable to get a DVD to play the English audio track at 11pm, the receptionist on duty actually called back another member of staff, who had just gone home, to help. And she had to get up early the next morning to go to modelling school and come to work afterwards. All the staff were incredibly helpful and friendly in that casual, almost familial way.




Design Suites

Llao Llao


I had lunch at Pire-Hue (the only ski-in, ski-out luxury lodge at the base of Cerro Caterdral), Design Suites and Llao Llao and dinner at El Patacon. All the meals were competent, but none particularly memorable. In fact, menus seemed quite similar. Quite a few menus featured pumpkin soup, mushroom risotto, trout with ratatouille and, the most interesting item of all, chicken chop suey! But there was always one thing on the menu that I would always look forward to -- dulce de leche. This pancake filled with dulce de leche at El Patacon was one of my faves in Bariloche:

My search for the best dulce de leche dessert continues in Buenos Aires and Cordoba...

The Argentine Adventure Begins: first stop Correo Argentino!

For three years, I've been planning a ski trip to Argentina and each summer, for one reason or another, the trip had been cancelled. Finally, I landed in Buenos Aires yesterday. Packing for my month long travels between summer and winter destinations, with ski gear and riding gear, casual wear and formal wear (2nd to last stop is a wedding in Monte Carlo), had been a bit of a production. I finally settled on shipping ahead my luggage for the Argentina trip, which consisted of winter wear, ski and riding gear, to Legado Mitico, my first hotel in Buenos Aires. I had shipped my bags via Speedpost on 11 August and they had arrived Argentina 3 days later and the last time I checked the tracking system, they were pending customs inspection, so I didn't think anything of it.

Imagine my panic when I checked into the hotel to find my luggage was nowhere to be found! All I had in tow were my laptop, gadgets, samples of Little Cream Book, reading material, toiletries and the clothes I was wearing. And of course, my American Express card ;-). After the hotel made a phone call to Correo Argentino, they found out that my luggage was sitting in the main receiving center for international packages downtown (fortunately, it was not at the airport!). After a quick bite at Bartok Bar (I went in because I saw they served Segafredo coffee, but even better was the free wifi) on Costa Rica, I headed to Correo Argentino.

I arrived in the reception area to find it a bit of a zoo. All the seats were taken and there were many more people standing around, waiting. It took me a few minutes to work out the "system". First, take a number, like when you're at the butcher shop. Then, you wait for your number to be called. Fortunately, with years spent growing up in Arizona, I at least knew my numbers in Spanish. When I arrived, they were on 20-something. I had pulled a 61. An hour later, I walked up to the counter and handed them my tracking number. They wrote down my passport details and told me to wait again while they located my packages. After another half an hour, they called my name and handed me a slip for one bag with another number. But then I showed them that I had two tracking numbers for two bags. And so I had to wait again, for another half an hour while they located the second bag and handed me a second slip with another number.

I gathered that I would have to move into the larger waiting room. It's funny, I saw the sign for the waiting room: Esperar. And I found it ironic that it made me think of "hope", because in French, the conjugation for hope (espoir) in the formal you form is espérez, which sounds a bit like esperar. Later, I found out that the Spanish word for hope is esperanza. Thinking about it, the linguistic linkage makes sense, without hope, one would not wait for anything. And there I was, waiting and hoping for them to call my numbers, hoping for my luggage to be in good shape, hoping they wouldn't charge me some exhorbitent duty on a bunch of old clothes.

The post office closes at 6pm. I was in the final group, all the remaining people who had not yet been called. I had two bags packed inside two, 20kg boxes. There was no way I'd be able to walk out of the post office with two gigantic boxes, so after a lot of gesturing, I grabbed one of the retractable blades off a counter to puzzled looks. They finally understood that I wanted to open my boxes and a kindly, white-haired gentlemen sliced through the boxes in seconds. With much relief and glee, I grabbed my bags and headed back to the hotel.

So now I feel right at home in Buenos Aires. I've been to a post office, a farmacia and know to look for "Banelco" signs (Banelco is the name for the Argentinian ATM network like PLUS or Cirrus) when in need of an ATM (although it took stops at three banks before I found one that worked. To my delight, the first bank I spotted was an HSBC, but then imagine my disappointment when I found the ATMs under maintenance). I'm writing this over a breakfast of dulce de leche liberally slathered on a slice of wholewheat toast, enjoying the sunshine. So far, it's been a great start to my Argentine adventure!