So, here we are again. It’s been far too long already, and you can already tell from the title what this piece is about, and it happened in the first two weeks of November. So why did it take me so long to write about it? That’s a good question. It’s a question I’ve asked myself too. The answer I told myself is that it was a mix of processing the weeks and not wanting to admit it was over. I could say all too altruistic that I’m writing these pieces for you, but ultimately, I’m doing it for myself. It’s a bit of closure for everything I’ve done, and also a way for me to remember my experiences. The bottom line is: we did a lot in two weeks, and it was a lot of fun. So, only good things. I’ve now accepted that it’s over, so let me start writing about it 😉
We, indeed. Because I haven’t been alone these weeks. My good friend Max took the trouble to fly over to Buenos Aires. And although most readers probably know Max, he deserves a proper introduction, just like Patrick. I know Max as an enthusiastic, cheerful guy with a good heart. Often very busy with his work as a physiotherapist, but someone who always makes time for you. Just like now. Someone who didn’t just say he’d come visit when I told him about my trip, but someone who actually did. Earlier this year, he had already been to Japan alone, and this was his first time in South America. A bit more exciting, but luckily he now has an experienced traveler at his side. Max and I share several interests in life, the two biggest of which are football and humor. And those things just kept recurring during these weeks… 😊
As I said, Buenos Aires was the starting point of these two weeks. There I was, standing at the airport in the early morning, waiting for Max to walk through the doors. It was a direct flight from Amsterdam, and I hadn’t seen so many Dutch people in ages. Finally, my friend arrived. And what struck me? He’d lost weight and was taller! Losing weight made sense: Max had been training hard lately with his new hobby, hyrox. But can you still gain height at 29? (I’ll give you a year, bro 😉 ). Anyway, maybe I wasn’t really awake yet. I got some help with that from the perpernoten Max had brought; it was nice to taste something from my own country again.
Coffee at the airport, catching up, heading to the Airbnb, and then we could really get started, and we were so excited! Buenos Aires is a wonderful city, and the weather was just as great. The city is a bit of an odd duck (kwek kwek) in South America because it feels so European. The architecture, but also the locals. We thought it looked a lot like Madrid (¡puta real!). We explored the city and enjoyed the rich Argentinian cuisine. We’d eaten so much choripan by now. Choripan is a sausage on a bun with chimichurri sauce, sold on every street corner. My description truly doesn’t do this delicious dish justice. We also enjoyed empanadas, milanesas, and, of course, the best meat in the world at Don Julio restaurant. We also learned all about traditional asados (barbecues) at an asado workshop. This was both educational and incredibly delicious, and the accompanying wines went down well (wine-not?).
But as I said, football was going to be the main theme of our trip. So, the first weekend we went to two matches. The first was a home game for San Lorenzo. Max, in particular, was really looking forward to it, having already fallen in love with the club after watching some videos of the supporters. And after our visit, I understood why. The fans gathered under the stadium before the match, and with drums and all, the atmosphere was really good. Max and I looked at each other, felt the goosebumps, and had to remind each other regularly that we were really there. Aside from the fact that during the match, a guy got punched in the face and then was chased by an entire stand (no idea why, maybe fooled around with someone’s girlfriend), it was a really good experience. Luckily, Max was a quick runner and eventually shook them off 😉
The second match was River Plate, one of the biggest clubs on the continent. With a stadium that holds 85,000 people, it’s also the largest in Latin America! I’ve also been to the second and third largest stadiums this trip, anyone want to guess which ones? Winner gets a sticker! It was an evening match, and we could walk there, which was fantastic. It was the end of the weekend, and we’d done a lot, so neither of us had the most energy left. Luckily, we could sit down. The players’ arrival also kept us awake, because what a noise it was with all the fireworks! The match itself wasn’t as good for River Plate: 0-1 down and the famous “jugadores, la concha de su madre” was called out to their own players (you can google what it means). Striker Miguel Borja, in particular, was under the brunt of it; every touch of the ball was followed by whistles from the stadium (especially from a 10-year-old boy behind us). But then… 90+5 and a penalty for River! Who’s behind the ball? Miguel Borja! Time to shut them up. Runs up and… the goalkeeper saves it! The referee blows the whistle, 0-1 lost. And Miguel Borja? He’ll be paying double for his beers at the pub from now on 😉
We then took the boat to Montevideo, the capital of Uruguay. Because within two hours you can set foot on Uruguayan soil. What a difference that was from Buenos Aires, especially the lack of tourism. We could leisurely stroll through the city and, by sheer coincidence, saw the changing of the guard (it only happens once every few weeks, but they had waited for us, so sweet). Some time to recover from our busy weekend. But we wouldn’t be ourselves if we didn’t try something football-related. So, off to the Nacional stadium, where one of my favorite players, Luís Suárez, is from. Visit the stadium and get a jersey, how nice. We concluded with a maté workshop at someone’s house. That was very cozy and genuinely fun. Maté is a type of tea that’s very popular in South America (especially Argentina, Uruguay, and Paraguay). Everyone carries it around in the streets, and just like asados, it represents a significant cultural aspect. And now we know how to prepare it! We did the entire workshop in Spanish, because our Spanish was that good. Max taught himself by getting hooked on Duolingo and trips to Atletico Madrid, and I, of course, learned it on this trip. We received a lot of compliments these past few weeks, and most people thought we lived in Argentina. That was a nice confidence boost.
Then back to Buenos Aires, and not just any old match. No, this weekend was all about the football match of all football matches. Anyone who knows anything about football knows what I’m talking about: Boca Juniors vs. River Plate. The match that’s number one on everyone’s bucket list. And we were going. Yes, we were going. You don’t want to know how many times we’ve said this to each other. Anything I write about it will do the experience a disservice. Because man, I still don’t fully grasp the emotions that went through me that day. It was so incredibly awesome. And sharing it with a good friend made it even more special. We’ll never forget this.
Dressed in our retro Boca shirts, we headed out early to the La Boca neighborhood where the match was being played. It was maybe 4-5 hours before the match, but the streets were already filling up. Fireworks, drumming, singing, it was unbelievable. And let’s be honest, it was a bit of a trial and error at first: what would the atmosphere be like? Was it safe? Everyone was drinking fernet cola (the rum cola of the Low Countries) in the morning, so we had to keep an eye out for any nonsense every now and then. But it was definitely safe. We explored the streets, but still had an important task: picking up our tickets. And that was quite a nerve-wracking moment. We had to pay cash, and that’s not exactly a smooth ride, I can tell you, haha! But all’s well that ends well. We got our tickets, and the ticket man told us we were lucky because we had good seats. Tickets secured, and now we could really enjoy ourselves. We joined in the festivities: jumping, dancing, singing, we acted like locals. And then we went inside. The ticket worked, and we were actually there. We couldn’t resist giving each other a big hug. We’d gotten standing spots on the long side and were close to the pitch. And what do you write about the match then? I mean, when the players entered the field alone was reason enough to go. I’d never seen anything like it. But then, the match started. 0-0, and we’d already touched each other. It would have been a shame if they didn’t score. Boca were playing “our” side. Injury time in the first half. And you guessed it. Because it was meant to be. Exequiel Zeballos shot from the box. The keeper initially saved the ball, but Zeballos ran on and tapped in the rebound: 1-0! And the stadium exploded. I’ve never been hugged and kissed by so many people in 30 seconds in my life. I can’t even describe what went through our minds; it was utter chaos. These people truly live for football. The match ultimately ended in a 2-0 victory, which is of course the ideal scenario when you go to a match like this. The crowd was happy, we were happy, and that continued for hours outside the stadium after the match. Crazy that football can make a person so happy.
The trip wasn’t over yet, and we had another wonderful thing in store. We flew to Mendoza, located in the west of Argentina, close to Chile. This region is known for its wine, and Max happens to be crazy about it. We visited a vineyard where Max had a wine recommended to him in Madrid and had tasted it, which was a full-circle moment for him. The sommelier who showed us around was our age, and that suddenly turned the tour into a corny affair with lots of bad jokes. We were also given some extra wine, which didn’t exactly improve the quality of the jokes. Another very enjoyable experience.
We took a little more time and rested in Mendoza because the match was still very much in our blood. We’d had almost 24 hours of adrenaline pumping through our bodies. So we decided to go to hot springs, recommended by our best Uber driver of the trip. Just to chill and unwind. And it turned out to be a really fun experience. There were almost only locals there, and two gringos certainly stand out. Especially to a group of about 15 kids, who found us very interesting. They sat down with us but didn’t dare talk to us. They didn’t know we spoke Spanish, so we could barely hold our laughter. Ultimately, the old saying applied here too: once one sheep crosses the dam, more will follow (a Dutch saying…). Someone dared to talk to us, and the banter began! They asked us all sorts of questions, but it was a lot of fun; they were so curious. Of course, we couldn’t resist playing a little prank on them. I made some Chinese noises and told them I was fluent in Chinese, and Max did the same in Japanese. We gave the kids a box before we left, and that’s how we made unexpected friends that day.
Then the end of the trip was near. We flew back to Buenos Aires, had one last dinner at a lovely restaurant, and had to say goodbye that morning. We bought personalized maté cups (Maxito & Jarito), which Maxito would bring back with him. Saying goodbye was hard; as I wrote at the beginning, we had a truly wonderful time. We made memories that will last a lifetime, that’s for sure. And back in the Netherlands, we’ll look back on them with a maté and a fernet cola (or several 😉). Anyway, thanks for reading & see you next time. Big hugs!