This was the exchange I had with my husband upon hearing how we were moving a bed from his parents’ house to our new apartment. Taxifletscome in all different shapes in sizes, but most are pick-up trucks that lug heavy stuff from one place to another for a relatively low price. (Dirt cheap compared to a New York City U-Haul.)
So that’s how we moved a bed, stools and a few chairs my mother- and father-in-law kindly lent us.
Jose, the reliable and kind-natured Taxiflet driver, services the El Huerto neighborhood in Chacras de Coria.
He delivered our belongings in perfect condition to our new home for the bargain price of 180 pesos ($18). Twenty-dollars with tip.
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of the year. It blows Christmas out of the water. Primarliy because it’s not a highly commercalized holiday convincing you to buy “stuff” as a demonstration of love.
It also trancends religous differences. It’s a time we carved out as a society to gather with loved ones to reflect and give thanks. Plus, the smell of burning firewood on a crisp night and feasting on my mother’s homemade butternut squash soup and stuffing brings me unequivocal joy.
I came across this virtual pin and I fully support its sentiment. Shower those around you with time and love, they’re the most precious gift you can give.
It’s been a year since my husband and I left our lovely apartment in New York’s East Village to move to Mendoza, Argentina.
East Village Apartment in New York City
The transitional period left us bouncing from a shared loft space in Brooklyn to our parents’ homes in New Jersey and Mendoza.
The apartment in Williamsburg was a throwback to our early 20’s. We lived with two guys, one bathroom, partial bedroom walls and zero privacy.
Williamsburg Apartment in Brooklyn
We regressed to our teen years living with our parents—sleeping in our childhood bedrooms, borrowing our parents’ cars and sharing meals as a family.
For months before our move, Guido scoured apartments to rent on Inmoclick.com. Our first week in Mendoza, we visited a handful of apartments and narrowed it down to two options that we found by asking the doormen.
Centrally located on Calle Sobremonte and Avenida Belgrano in Mendoza Capital, both apartments were relatively new, spacious and flooded with natural light. They were ideal living spaces where I could imagine myself cuddled on the couch basking in the late afternoon sun.
One-bedroom apartment on Calle Sobremonte
One-bedroom apartment on Avenida Belgrano
They were in the same price range and both had killer amenities: rooftop pools overlooking the Andes, exercise equipment, lounge rooms with comfortable couches and flat screen TVs, and outdoor parrillas (grills) for entertaining.
Rooftop - Calle Sobremonte
Rooftop - Avenida Belgrano
No one apartment (like no one guy) has everything on your checklist. I’m not super high-maintenance, but two important luxuries topping my wishlist were: bathtub and dishwasher.
The apartment on Calle Sobremonte had a bathtub but no water valves for a dishwasher. Avenida Belgrano had dishwasher valves, but no bathtub.
It was a tough call because I love soaking in a piping hot bath after a long day. On the other hand, I can’t stand washing dishes (particularly silverware).
Not to sound highfalutin, but doing dishes is enough to make me never want to cook. And if I want to eat anything besides meat, empanadas or pizza in Mendoza, I’m going to have to spend a little more time in the kitchen.
Since sustenance beats bathtub bathing on the hierarchy of needs, Avenida Belgrano it is.
Looks like I’m in the right place at the right time. Financial Times just published a special report this week on Doing Business in Mendozahttp://on.ft.com/1drB0qY, which covers the wine industry, tourism, mining and the possible construction of a tunnel through the Andes linking Argentina and Chile.
"No self-respecting Argentine – or for that matter European or Californian – millionaire with more than a passing interest in wine does not also want to own at least a few hectares in the wine lands of the Uco valley." ~John Paul Rathbone reporting for the Financial Times.
This Friday through Sunday, modern and contemporary art from Central and South America, Spain, Portugal, and The Caribbean will be showcased and auctioned. Fifty prominent galleries are partnering with PINTA NY to exhibit museum-quality works of abstract, concrete, neo-concrete, kinetic, and conceptual art.
If you can’t make it to the fair, you can check out Artsy.net, which features artworks, exhibitors, editorial coverage and fair highlights selected by art world insiders.
Soho Grand Hotel is the official hotel of PINTA NY and is offering discounted rates for PINTA NY guests. LATAM is also offering a generous 20% discount on flights to and from New York during PINTA NY, for any last minute weekend travelers.
PINTA NY Details:
General Admission $25.00 and $10.00 for students.
Tix can be purchased on-site during exhibition hours.
On Sunday night, I had a tough choice to make between two very appealing Andalusian performances that were unfortunately happening at the same time: a flamenco show at Teatro Independencia or an outdoor Mala Rodriguez concert.
I studied abroad in Sevilla, Spain my junior year of college and developed an affinity for both the passionate gitano (gypsy) flamenco culture, as well as the badass hip-hop star “La Mala,” who was born in Cadiz and raised in Sevilla.
We had purchased tickets for the Gigantes del Flamenco in advance, so we decided to start our evening at the theatre with the notion of leaving early to catch some of the concert.
From the first performance until the very last standing ovation, the show had me gripped by the heartstrings.
I couldn’t tear myself away from the captivating cantaores (singers), whose powerful voices raised the hairs on the back of my neck and sent shivers down my spine.
The emotional cries barreled headlong into my heart summoning memories of late nights in Sevillan bars, where I was first mesmerized by the proud commanding presence of the female bailaor (dancer) and awestruck by the profound rawness of the cantaor's vocals, wrought with an eternity of heartache.
I love flamenco because it resists our youth obsessed culture, prizing mature singers, dancers and musicians who can fully embody the duende, or soul, of the music and have the capacity to convey it. The deep heart-wrenching odes of love lost, death, anguish and despair are difficult to express without having struggled against life’s dark demons.
After the show, we pulled up to Julio Le Parc while the concert was just coming to an end. I would have really enjoyed seeing La Mala perform live, but the echoes of flamenco still reverberated through my psyche leaving no room for regret.
The fifth stop on our transcontinental wedding tour is Mendoza, Argentina. It’s mild spring weather marks the start of the austral wedding season.
It was an elegant affair in a beautiful new event space called Alma Hydra Lodge. After a 30-minute drive from Mendoza proper, we turned onto a bumpy rural dirt road winding through abandoned country homes, plots of land under construction and ubiquitous vineyards.
We finally arrived at a desert oasis with cascading landscaped terraces and two large tents flanking a restored rustic villa.
About 400 guests mingled during the cocktail “hour” (which lasted much longer than 60 minutes) and feasted upon passed hors d’oeuvres, charcuterie stations and seafood paella. There was also a typical Argentine parilla, or grill, smoking fresh salmon.
Black tie waiters circulated freshly-made mojitos, which tasted like summer, to wash down gourmet empanadas.
What I love most about Argentine weddings is that they last all night. The seated dinner of beef and bottomless Malbec (how appropriate) finished at 11:30PM when everyone began to shimmy down to the dance floor, mixing with an additional 100 guests who were invited to the open bar dance party.
When we left at 4:00AM the party was still in full swing: chorizos were being grilled, mini pizzas were being passed, confetti was flying and party hats had been converted into bowls of jungle juice with communal straws. (You’ve got to love the Argentine’s penchant for sharing no matter how unhygienic it may be.)
The bride and groom undoubtedly celebrated until the sun came up (most likely longer). Compared to the typically puritanical 11:00PM American wedding shutdown, the Argentines seem to be eking out more value for money when it comes to throwing a wedding party.