The general idea behind Sarkis is best illustrated by the fact that while we ate falafel and mousaka, after being told there was no Sarma (grape leaves) some loud modern Hindi music came on and a belly dancer worked her way through the tables. The place is a broad smattering: food from all over the Middle East. Don’t forget to add a table of old men, one of whom stuck a $5 USD to his forehead and proceeded to dance with the sultry seductress, officially ruining the show for me.

So, somehow Sarkis became a classy version of T.G.I Friday’s or Applebee’s. But surely, this cannot always be. I doubt kids are always running around, or birthday girls are wearing little cone hats while a photographer documents it all. Anyway, I cannot complain too much, I was there with a handful of friends to celebrate a birthday as well.

Still, the food in our mouths was better than the music in our ears and we couldn’t complain at the prices either.

Sarkis Mediterranean Restaurant
Located at 1101 Thames
Palermo SOHO
Tel: 4772 4911

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CBC has received a lot of attention in the BA blogosphere since it opened, so I’m going to keep this one short. Saltshaker already gave it a thumbs up, and Alan gave it one of his super-thorough look-sees. Here’s my take. One of my biggest disappointments about Buenos Aires has been the lack of good Mexican food. In fact, it may be my only legitimate let-down. Honestly though, I have no one to blame for this but myself. My culinary expectations for the country included the excessive use of tortillas, but alas, I was dead wrong (oops).

While every restaurant serves steak, salads, chicken, and empanadas, none have burritos, real hot sauce, or good salsa. So some duders from California recognized this gaping hole in the market and have taken a great stab and filling it with shredded carne, guacamole, and some picante salsa that is worthy of its name, “Fuego.”

CBC is very similar to the Moe’s burrito chain that is enjoying success in the United States, at least on the east coast. Borrowing from the Subway philosophy it is clean, well lit, and assembly line style. The portions are to American standards which is a calculated decision for them because at 13 pesos a pop their burritos cost as much as a three course meal at a standard Buenos Aires lunch spot. However, the change of pace from the standard Argentine menu is a more than welcome break and a good way to keep your taste buds on their toes.

When you really needed a dose of guacamole, sour cream, and beans, head over to CBC.

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Brendan and I met in my intensive language lessons in Buenos Aires. Coming from Australia, he had decided to spend his semester break from medical school volunteering at a hospital in the impoverished neighborhood of La Boca. Between language courses and his work he was pretty tied down, but he decided to join me on a two day trip to northern Argentina to visit the Falls. Our trip was evenly split with 36 hours on a bus and 36 hours with feet on the ground, including the hottest night of my whole five month trip.

Argentina has a very extensive bus system that is quite different from most countries. From the central terminal in Buenos Aires hundreds of bus lines will take you almost anywhere in the country in “Sleepers” – buses with the option of a chair that goes completely horizontal. In addition to blankets, pillows, movies, the meals sometimes come with complimentary alcoholic drinks. Overall the experience is more like a first-class flight than a bus.

Leaving Buenos Aires we were reminded of the vast difference between the city and the country. Argentina is still a third world country no matter what impression the city gives to visitors and residents. In the seven hours of light during our trip we passed countless miles of uninhabited land; a few outpost towns with scattered and tattered houses; and minor cities. While a flight would have been only an hour, I feel the road experience is a valuable part of any trip; sometimes it is the trip.

When we arrived in the small town Puerto Iguazu in the early morning, the expansive brown-grey fields of the previous day had become semi-lush greenery with chalky, red soil. Setting off to find our hostel, whose name and location I had managed to forget, we ran into four drunk Irish girls who were walking home from the bar and being true ambassadors of their country they invited us to drink from the bottles of wine they were carrying.

Dutifully, Brendan and I accepted and shortly thereafter found ourselves being asked to leave the pool at their hostel by the woman at the front desk. It was now around 7:30 AM so we walked around the corner and checked into one of the many hostels that pepper the area surrounding the bus station.

We fortified ourselves with some peanuts and packed our bags to make the day trip to the falls. We took the jungle tour, the boat tour, and rode the little train out to the Devil’s Throat. It was all excellent, but we had to catch a bus back to our hostel in order to eat some food before coming back for the Moonlight Tour – one of the more coherent suggestions the Irish girls gave us in the morning.

Luck had been with us as we had no idea that during the four days surrounding the full moon the National Park opens itself up for organized moonlit tours of the falls. Gathering at the entrance of the park with some fifty other people, along with countless nagging insects, the woods had a different feel. It was unlikely that we would see one, but this was jaguar country.

With our guides leading the way we boarded the small train that winds itself through the park, providing transit from the entrance to Devil’s Throat, which otherwise is an hour’s walk. To get to the platform that overlooks Devil’s Throat you need to cross a number of river-spanning footbridges.

In the middle of the night, in the middle of the jungle, in the middle of a 3 km wide river which forms the falls, with both shores invisible and a few scattered island in sight, Brendan and I stopped and let the herd of tourists pass. We stood there appreciating the solitude, the grandness, and the downright alien feeling. The flowing water beneath us and sound of bending fronds and shaking branches in the wind was a little unnerving, and made us feel pretty small and out of our element.

While we were walking on the last stretch of bridge, the beam of moonlight skating across the water’s surface on our right suddenly fragmented. From this distance, Devil’s Throat was the black hole interrupting the continuous moonbeam. At the final platform that extends slightly over the drop we could see a little more, but still were left with a mostly auditory experience and the strange realization that all during the night Iguazu churns, even when nobody is here to see it. If everything on the earth were removed except for water and gravity, it would still exist. I realized how glad I was to be here, especially with the prediction that they might run dry within fifty years.

Night tours are only available the four days surrounding a full moon. Generally, each of these nights there are three tours. The final tour puts you at the Devil’s Throat around midnight, but it is the first of the evening that gives visitors the best view of the falls because the moon is at its lowest point. The information for the tours is available at the National Park itself or through most the tourism offices of hostels and hotels.

Sleeper bus tickets, which are purchased at the Omnibus station next to the Retiro train station (you need your passport), range from 150-180 pesos and depending on the bus line will depart and arrive at different times. It is always suggested that you purchase your tickets at least one day in advance.

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Do you like to come back from your vacations with bragging rights? Then take this 15 USD tour and you will get more out of your Iguazu Falls experience than the average tourist. The Iguazu Falls are tucked away in the forest at the tri-border between Argentina, Brazil, and Paraguay. When it comes to touring the falls, people’s loyalties lie in one of two camps – those who prefer the Brazilian side and those who prefer the Argentine side of the National Park. (Everyone agrees you experience nothing fall-related in Paraguay).

While the view of the Devil’s Throat at Iguazu may be more spectacular from the Brazilian platform reached by elevator, the Argentine side offers extensive foot bridges that pass under and above the lips of some of the giant drops. However, for 15 USD you can take an Iguazu boat ride that will allow you to thumb your nose at the visitors in both countries, as you motor right into the fury of the monstruous falls.

Not only will you get absolutely soaked and feel up close the power of the falls, but you also get bragging rights because no matter how you phrase it the fact that you took a small boat and motored into the dump zone to receive a sheet of water from some of the biggest falls in the world is undeniably sweet.

Tickets for the tour are available at the main entrance to Iguazu National Park on the Argentine side. The boat ride lasts about fifteen minutes and some of them stop at one of the islands in the gorge. Afterwards, you are left at a trail that allows you to explore the falls on foot or return to the entrance. There is an open-top truck tour that is essentially pointless unless you have an open-top truck fetish. I strongly suggest saving the extra pesos for a Quilmes.

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The hour train ride to the delta town of El Tigre cost 30 cents. Before we even arrived, this was already one of the best excursions of my life for that fact alone. And even with the fanfare weekend crowds, this city on the delta of Rio de la Plata was a bubble of serenity compared to the tempo of Buenos Aires living.

Getting to Tigre is a simple affair: simply show up to the train station in Retiro and buy a ticket. Trains run often (pretty much every hour) between Buenos Aires and Tigre, which is the last stop on the line. If you get on the platform early there is no trouble finding a seat and the ride is comfortable. We stood all the way there because we showed up just as the train was departing, but made sure to get seats on the way back.

The moment you arrive and leave the station in Tigre, the surroundings become foreign. The lazy river, a naturally formed canal, looks like it could be somewhere in France. A nice bridge spans the water and a promenade follows along the bank where you can purchase tickets for boat rides on a variety of vessels from catamarans to kayaks.

We jumped at the first big boat we saw – 15 pesos for 1 hour – but regretted it after chugging away and seeing much smaller boats cruising around more nimbly. Renting a canoe, a rowboat, or a kayak can also be a good option to explorate the area quietly, but a motor boat is needed if you want to explore the whole delta area.

Our boat plugged away for half an hour before turning around to head back to the dock. We were constantly reminded of our sluggishness as small boats with groups of kids or families jetted by. However, later we saw one motorboat pulled over to the side by a police patrol. Suckers.

Along the banks and on the islands that pepper the river there were many houses for rent, some old rusted ships, and groups of vacationers staying at camp grounds with volleyball and swimming. Every so often a big plastic Coca-Cola sign indicates a little eatery where you can relax with food and drink.

The sun is hot and a bathing suit isn’t a bad idea. If you can find an empty dock at a house that isn’t being rented, you can hop in for a quick dip (another advantage of being in a small rented boat versus a large tour boat). After forty five minutes we done with the boat tour and ready to get some food.

The beer and sun had drained us and we needed some energy. We baked for half an hour in the sun at one sidewalk restaurant before walking away because there was only was server working the entire place. We finally did get a good hamburger though, after which you can take a walk around the city, which includes an enormous ferris wheel, other amusement park rides, and a rather large furniture marketplace.

Tigre is absolutely doable in a day. We arrived at midday, finished our tour, and left satisfied. However, if you have the time, staying at one of the campgrounds for a few days looked like a totally different way to experience the place.

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The bright neon blue sign doesn’t exactly sweep you into a fantastic realm of Indian adventure, mysticism, and musings, but things definitely improved when we entered.  To our left was a bread counter with some fresh naan, and servers were donning tunic length shirts that suggested authenticity. Later, when we were seated, we found a large piece of carved wood, probably used in ancient Indian schools, displaying many of the positions used in Kamasutra.

The menu at Katmandu covers all of the bases with a few varieties of breads, appetizers, and sauces. For main platters there are the staple chicken, lamb, prawn, and fish dishes, as well as vegetarian options, all for between 20-35 pesos (7-12 USD). The beverage selection takes a slight dip with the absence of the mango lassi (they do have the sweet lassi and salt lassi, though). On the beer front it was disappointing, but not unexpected that they had to substitute Quilmes and Heineken for Cobra and King Fisher.

Wanting to get the full spectrum of tastes we ordered some of everything: lamb, chicken, prawn, and spinach and cheese. Each dish can be prepared to your tastes, as normal, hot, or Indian hot. Based on the owner’s confirmed report on the Argentine palette and the fact that fewer spices rob the dish of its taste we bucked up and went for the heat, completing our first task for the evening.

The food was very good and the spiciness was excellent; not enough to have us drinking excessively or panting desperately, but it did induce the good old curry sweat. Task two complete.

With plans for continued drinking we skipped dessert (a selection including ice creams and small pastries all around 10-12 pesos), and paid our bill, which came to us in a little hand carved wooden box with a lid.

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We arrived a hungry group, comprised of four Americans (Americans from the United States), a Finlander, and a medical student from Australia. The majority being from the States we rolled up at 8 pm before there was a single soul in the place and left a solid two and a half hours later. I think each one of us overate, so not only did we leave quite full and bloated, but we also carried with us a pronounced sense of pride and accomplishment.

Gourmet Porteno separates itself from other tenedor libres because it offers a wide selection of of foods. It is not just sushi or parilla (grilled meats). We began with a sampling of salads and noshes. Afterwards we each hit up the sushi stand, the pasta counter, the parilla, pizza oven, and finally the “gourmet” option. There was also a fish section although none of us cashed in on it. There was no particular reason for this. I think we just all felt obligated to try the parilla instead and ended up forgetting to go back due to short term memory loss on account of attention diversion to the chore of digesting.

At each “station” you have the choice between three or five dishes that they can prepare for you, making any amendments you wish. After many salads with seafood, some pumpkin ravioli, ribs, steak, and pork with strawberry glaze our eyes were more than half-hooded. Thus impaired, we were forced to make our desert selections from a variety of cakes, cookies, puddings, ice creams, and tarts. To be safe, I stuck with a simple sampling of 2 puddings, 2 cakes, a panqueque (a lot like a crepe) and three types of ice cream.

I was surprised that the place never filled up, but it was a Monday night. However, if you are going to dine late like the locals, and later in the week, it would probably be a good idea to make a reservation. There is an enclosed “terrace,” but it is smoking only.

You are only asked to pay $40 pesos (drinks are not included) to take one giant step closer to a coronary. Buen Provecho (bon appetit)!

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After a little more than two weeks, I was just happy to hear that my package was in the country. Because the package was sent to my friend’s address, he needed to come with me, which made my trip much easier. We took the 132 bus and hopped off in front of the train station in Retiro and walked two short blocks to the enormous grey building that screamed “Public Sector.”

The reception of BA international post office was jammed with people; some seated in chairs, others on the floor, and another group milling outside the door. After grabbing a ticket we opted for the floor. Despite the crowds we waited less than an hour to be called to the counter. But, instead of receiving the package, we had our information processed and were asked to wait in an adjacent room while my package was found.

Fifteen minutes later we were called into the back section of the building where customs officials retrieve packages and verify the contents. In my case she asked what was in the box and glanced only at the articles already in view. In the end the whole process was not that bothersome, but not what we are used to back home.

Be aware that after a few days there is a 1.90 peso holding fee per day. If speed and security are issues it is worth investigating FedEx or UPS, but I found they were at least four times more expensive. Since nothing being sent to me was crucial I went with the slow boat.

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Now, a transvestite party sounds crazy and believe me my mind was working hard to conjure up the wildest images of transvestites doing cabaret with sword swallowers in the background as pyrotechnics highlighted the whole experience.

Well, things didn’t quite go down like that. Everything started off well: we paid the 25 peso entrance (with a drink included) and we were greeted very enthusiastically by two ‘trannies’ and entered the crowded club. I could see the lit stage located all the way in the front over the peoples heads, where an overweight tranny in scant burlesque attire was performing a little shtick, part dance, part song.

The crowd was largely touristy, with some Argentines as well who thankfully appeared to be slightly above the 18-20 crowd that swarms other clubs like Mint and Opera Bay. Still, there were some older ‘business’ types, but nothing like what I expected from other reviews. But the music was good, and the place was packed. The next performer was a female (I’m almost positive) who did some seductive dancing wearing a thong. The partition of the stage she was on was wheeled through the crowd to the back of the room and then back again. Some breakdowns and B-Boy crews came out and did their thing, while I continued to drink beer and to sweat.

I’m not entirely sure when the show ended, but there was some sort of conga line and crazy swan costume involved. Of course, my camera faltered and all my pictures came out like rubbish. A few hours into the night I found myself upstairs in the VIP area (pay 15 pesos for a bracelet, unless you have a friend who can talk himself into anything) with a friend who can talk his way into anything. The vantage point was better, although I wouldn’t quite equate it with a balcony box at the opera.

If you want to have a little respite from the spectacle, there is a back room that I only discovered after my nth trip to the bathroom. It was practically empty, but yeah, it exists.

We were greeted by the sun when we walked out the front door, generally happy with the music and ambiance of Club 69 Niceto. The interesting theme attracts interesting people and there is no suffocating sense of pretension on display. Everyone should check it out. I’ve heard that if you show up in drag you get in for free, but I suggest calling ahead of time and asking to save yourself some potentially unrewarded awkwardness, not that there is anything wrong with it.

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