Mendoza and Malbec

Firstly, we arrived into Mendoza in serious style, all be it totally unintentionally. We realised once we were in Cafayete that there was no direct route to Mendoza. So we caught a 6 hour bus to Tucaman and then attempted to buy an overnight ticket onwards. But when we arrived we found out that all the cheap tickets were already sold, so our only option was to spend a crazy sum and catch a 'cama suite' bus. Argentinean buses have lots of different grades, from normal through to cama, meaning bed. We had no idea what 'suite' meant but we had no choice. As we boarded and sat down G said "For this price we had better be getting champagne and canapes!" And wouldn't you know it, a few minutes later the host appears with champagne and canapes! A 3 course meal followed all served with red wine and whisky to end. Then our seats are dropped to horizontal, blankets and pillows are brought, curtains are drawn and we slept the next 13 hours away peacefully. In the morning as we drove into downtown Mendoza we were served tea and breakfast. What a way to travel!

Mendoza was hot, close to 40, and of course it was a sunday so nothing opened, no one stirred. Our original hostel was a little grubby so after one night we checked into Mora, closer to town, friendly and relaxing. Mendoza was nothing like we expected. With a total population of 3 million it is huge. And reminded us slightly of Melbourne, wide green avenues and beautiful old building everywhere. Big parks and fountains.

Our first objective was of course wine, malbec to be precise. After many many recommendations we went with a company called Trout and Wine. Spent a very long day at four wineries tasting endless glasses of malbec. We ate a ridiculously large steak as only part of a 4 course menu midway through the day, so it was lucky that we only had to taste more wine after lunch.
The following day we went to a mate appreciation class, no, not a class where we all get blind drunk and then say "mate... mate, I f@*king love you..." as others have questioned. Mate, pronounced like latte, is the national drink of Argentina, a bitter strong tea that is drunk from portable cups through metal straws absolutely anywhere. No self respecting Argentinean is ever seen without mate cup in hand and thermos tucked under one arm. Not sure we did learn to appreciate it exactly, pretty potent stuff. We'll work on that one.

That evening Steph shouted us dinner at Francis Mallmann, one of the oldest and fanciest restaurants in town where we voluntarily and very unsuccessfully attempted to eat yet another enormous steak along with a half baby goat.