LAST DAY IN BARILOCHE

Today is my last day in Argentina and Jody and Tim treated me to a delicious lunch. As you can see, it is right on the water with a beautiful view.

Before we left home, Tim took our pictures…

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GOOD FRIENDS SEE THE WORLD EXACTLY THE SAME

ON TO THE RESTAURANT…

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WHILE THE FOOD WAS EXCELLENT AND THE VIEW SPECTACULAR, IT IS THE COMPANY I VALUE MOST AND AS I LOOKED ON UPON THIS HAPPY COUPLE, I FELT THE WARM EMBRACE OF A GOOD AND LASTING FRIENDSHIP. THANK YOU JODY AND TIM FOR A MEMORABLE VISIT.

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A LITTLE BIT OF HERE AND THERE

Here is a collection of photos I just couldn’t leave out of the blog.

A lunch at a restaurant where the big brown eyes of the baby pulled me to photograph him. And the charm of the interior….

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Jody said “THERE ‘S A GAUCHO”. I took this from the car.

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I FOUND THIS BIRD ROAMING IN THE YARD AT THE HOME WHERE WE WERE STAYING. IT IS A SNIPE.
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A ROADSIDE ATTRACTION – THIS IS THE ROAD IN FRONT OF TIM AND JODY’S APARTMENT AND OFTEN WE CAME UPON HORSES GRAZING ALONGSIDE.

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WHILE WE ARE ENTERING SPRING, IN BARILOCHE, THE TREES TELL US FALL IS APPROACHING.

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Barlioche’s answer to street food —

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We spent a lovely evening at Tim and Jody’s friend, Sam Smith and his wife Virginia. We were planning to attend the milonga (a gathering of tango dancers), however, it didn’t begin until 10pm and can last till 3 to 4am and as we had just enjoyed a filling dinner and felt tired, we didn’t go. But Sam sent me a link to a YouTube and if you are at all interested in The Tango, watching this will inspire you to take dance lessons.

CERRO OTTO

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The ride up the mountain was dramatic as we ascended through trees that are turning to yellow and oranges and red. At the summit, there are viewing areas 360 degrees. We chose to sit in the restaurant where the seating rotates all around – much like Seattle’s Space Needle – I tried to photograph the views from all sides.

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The view as we ascended

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We have reached the summit…. And the flag of Argentina greeted me in the wind

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My eye traveled from lakes to mountains.

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We spotted a hang glider

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And caught him landing

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AND THERE ISN’T A POPULAR SITE THAT DOESN’T HAVE A ST. BERNARD TO ATTRACT A CROWD..

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It was hard to leave this magnificent site ….

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AND MORE BEAUTIFUL ROSES..

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SOOOOOO COMFORTING

It was 8pm the night before last and we were sitting in the living room when Jody said, “How about if I make some cinnamon rolls for breakfast tomorrow morning?” Why wait until morning?

I couldn’t believe how quickly she brought out these warm, scrumptious rolls which, at 10:30pm, we happily devoured! I’m sharing the recipe.

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Cinnamon Rolls

3/4 cup milk
1/4 cup soft butter
3 1/4 cups flour
1 pkg yeast
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 tsp salt

1/4 cup water
1 egg

1 cup brown sugar
1 tablespoon cinnamon
1/2 cup soft butter

Heat milk until bubbles. Remove, add butter till melts. Cool to lukewarm.

Mix 2 1/4 cups flour, yeast, sugar and salt. Mix well. Add water, egg and milk mixture.

Add remaining flour – 1/2 cup at a time. Stir well after additions. When dough has pulled together, knead until smooth about 5 mins. (Jody did not use a Mixer and the dough was as smooth as a baby’s bottom)

Cover bowl with damp cloth for 10 minutes

Mix brown sugar, cinnamon and butter

Roll out to 12×9 inches. Spread sugar mixture.

Roll in a dough in a long tube and cut rolls.

Cover and let rise until doubled – about 30 minutes.

PREHEAT OVEN TO 375 degrees. Bake 20 minutes.

WE DID SAVE SOME FOR BREAKFAST THE NEXT MORNING.

ARGENTINA’S REMEMBRANCE OF THE MISSING AND A VISIT TO THE CENTRO CIVICA

No trip to Bariloche is complete without a visit to Centro Civico. A spacious square with beautiful Alpine architecture.

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The day before our visit, people gathered to remember the missing. The square was filled with drawings of white scarfs the grandmothers wear to remind the government they will continue to search for evidence of their whereabouts. Beneath each scarf was the name of the missing.

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(A reprint of an article)

Argentina experienced its most recent military dictatorship which began 38 years ago today. Stores are closed and the streets are empty as “portenos” remember where they were and what they were doing when they found out that a military junta had successfully staged a coup.

It’s fall in Argentina and the wind is blowing into Buenos Aires from Rio de Plata. The dust and bits of paper are swirling in little tornadoes down the Boulevard Cabilldo. Walking down the avenue, it’s easy to get a sense of life in the USA back in the 1940s. On the corner is the baker with his fresh-baked bread giving off that unique scent that can even make a man who’s just eaten feel hungry again. Across the street, the cobbler has displayed his latest shoes in the window and next door, at the butcher, ham, chicken and beef are on display.

None of it is wrapped or packaged like in America’s Wal-Mart. Here there are no WalMarts. Just little shops along the boulevard selling their products the way America used to sell before things got homogenized and sterile.

All of the shops are closed today. It’s a national holiday throughout Argentina. Thirty-eight years ago the country saw the beginning of the last military junta, or last dictatorship, in South America’s second largest country.

Juan Peron died in July, 1974 and his wife, and Vice President, Isabel, was in Casa Rosada. She was ineffective in her job. She had missed having a political life and her only “qualification” for the job of President was the fact that she was the third Mrs. Peron and just happened to be married to him when he died. She had been a trophy wife.

When Peron was exiled to Spain after being kicked out in 1955, he met Isabel. She had been a stripper in some of Spain’s sleaziest nightclubs and Peron, a typical military officer, saw her one night and fell epaulets over sword for her. The two started living together and when the Catholic church let Peron know that it didn’t approve of his living arrangement, he reluctantly married Isabel.

When Argentina had a change of government, and a change of heart, it opened its ports and invited Juan and the new Mrs. Peron to come on home to Buenos Aires. All had been forgiven. Gathering up his supporters and relying on bribery and intimidation, Peron was voted back into the presidency. It wouldn’t last long. He died a year later. Isabel, as Vice President, stepped up to the plate and was sworn in as the new Argentine president.

It was a disaster from the start. The only right thing she did was keep a few of her late husband’s advisors on the payroll. Later, as palace intrigue took over, and the former stripper didn’t know whom to trust, she started firing them. Knowing more about how to make a White Russian than to make an economy survive, things went down the “inodoro,” toilet, in the country. Frustrated and seeing their opportunity, the military stepped in, kicked her out and set up a military junta.

With the aid and knowledge of Washington DC, the military dictatorship under the leadership of General Videla, went on a killing spree. Over the next seven years, over 30,000 people would be made to disappear in Buenos Aires. Members of the opposition, students who seemed to be left-wing, even pregnant mothers, were picked up, and taken to secret torture camps. When the military was done with them, the victim was flown in an airplane over Rio de Plata and tossed out.

Today marks the Day of Remembrance for Argentina. The start of the terror and bloodshed which would define a country for decades.

By Jerry Nelson

Sources
Catholic Culture
Shropshire

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LET US HOPE. “NEVER MORE”

Neither can you leave the Centro without a photo taken with the most popular attraction. The little puppy is only 26 days old.

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THEN I LOOKED UP AND THOUGHT THE WORLD HAS CONNECTED TO ARGENTINA!image