La Pampa: tranquility and royalty

Luciano and I are sitting in the sala de estar (public lounge) of Hotel Cuprum in Santa Rosa, La Pampa. We're such techno-geeks, we both brought our notebooks so he's busy with email while I update the blog.

Alas, we weren't greeted by gauchos and Pampeana virgins with flowers. Rather, we were met by some pretty damn cold weather and empty streets. It was kind of eerie, hardly a soul to be seen on the streets when we arrived early in the morning. We did see plenty of well-fed dogs roaming the streets which led us to speculate about a canine uprising and the possibility of all the Pampeanos having been devoured in their homes by man's best friend. The only other sign of life was a procession of early 20th century vintage cars, heading off to rally, as we discovered later in the local newspaper.

The town reminds me a lot of the small cities in California's San Joaquin Valley where I grew up. Very agricultural, as would be expected in this part of Patagonia, the heartland of Argentina's cattle industry.

Our hotel is quite lovely, modern and a lot of luxurious detail. Its outside is clad in copper (cuprum is Latin for copper) and the inside is filled with beautiful woodwork. We enjoyed the hotel's breakfast buffet while waiting for our room to be ready, deposited our gear in the room, then set off to explore the town on foot. We walked a mile or so into the town center, ending up at the central plaza. Surely there would lots of activity there, right? Nope, it was dead quiet. We strolled around, saw some interesting statues, buildings, and parks and finally ended up at a parilla (barbecue or open-fire grill) restaurant. Where better to eat beef than La Pampa? Parilla Don Pepe offers a 30 peso (US $9.50) parilla libre, meaning you get appetizers, main and side dishes, and dessert and you can keep ordering as much as you want of any of it. We had various forms of salchicha (sausage), fiambres (cold meats), chicken, and beef with plenty of things on the side, followed by two kinds of ice cream to top it all off. We could barely move after so much gluttony but we finally dragged ourselves back out to the empty streets.

As we resumed our walkabout, we made friends with a cute stray bitch whom we named Nuestra Amiga (Our Friend). She followed us for several miles as we roamed through Santa Rosa, the capital of the province, until we ended up at the town's biggest attraction, Casino Club. It's not on the scale of Las Vegas but it has a few hundred slot machines, several dozen roulette tables, restaurants, and shows in the evening. Neither of us is a gambler but we decided we had to try a slot machine one time (10 centavos, about 3 cents US), just so we could say we had done it. When we tried to insert my 10 centavo coin, we discovered they don't work with actual money, you have to buy a card that gets loaded with credit. As we were standing in line to buy a minimum-amount card from the cashier, we found a machine that would accept 2 peso notes so we switched tactics. Luciano put in his 2 pesos and pressed the button. Wheels spun and pictures popped up but no winning row. He pushed it again and this time it was a winner. We had more than doubled our money and retired from gambling with a huge profit of 2.40 pesos (77 cents US).

When we left the casino, Nuestra Amiga had disappeared. We were kind of relieved, we're both dog lovers and we'd begun to feel responsible for her but obviously there was no way we could adopt her and take her to our hotel (or to Buenos Aires). On our way back, we spotted her following a pair of girls and Luciano had us quickly cross the street before she could see us. We didn't want to feel guilty if she latched onto us again and we had to abandon her a second time outside the hotel door.

After a shower and a short siesta (nap), we headed back to the city center for dinner and a taste of the gay night life in La Pampa. Throughout the trip, we've kept up a playful banter about how excellent our choice was to visit Patagonia instead of Rosario. Our pizza that night was so much better than pizza in Rosario where they make it with inferior ingredients and spit in the food before tossing it at the customer with an angry snarl. The orange juice we drank was delicious and straight from the teats of vacas naranjas (orange cows), unlike the malodorous toxic liquid we would have been served in Rosario. Luciano has kept me laughing all day with his fantastic comparisons of mythic La Pampa and frightful Rosario.

Sated with pizza, we were off to visit Cadíz, the only gay bar we could find listed in all of La Pampa's 55,000 square miles (a little bigger than the state of Arkansas). The address is just a few blocks from the city's central plaza so it was easy to find but we discovered that it is now a clothing store. What to do? We ducked into a cybercafe and hit the Argentine chat rooms. Nobody had anything useful to offer in terms of other local gay venues but we did get an offer for a threesome. Back to the streets in hope of spotting someone obviously gay who might aid our quest. Either our gaydar wasn't functioning or we were the only homos in town. Eventually Luciano asked three young señoritas who appeared to be pretty hip. They were very friendly and cool, took us along their way, and pointed out the street we should take and told us the name of the only existing gay bar, Picaso. It was easy to find but it was clearly closed. It was only 11 PM so perhaps it opened late like some of the clubs in the capital? No, the sign on the door informed us the bar is only open on Thursday evenings.

All in all, Santa Rosa is odd. The town was mostly somnolent during the day, streets all but deserted. During the dinner hours, the restaurants were bustling, but by midnight, the inhabitants had retreated into whatever secret lairs they occupied. La Pampa, perhaps a province of vampires?

We walked up Calle San Martin, the main drag, and found a heladería (ice cream shop), which seemed as exciting as any other options. It turned out to be one of the highlights of the day.

We ordered our double cones and sat at a table next to four teenage boys. One of them was pretty obviously gay and appeared to be the dominant member of the group. Much to our surprise, the other lads, who seemed straight, doted on him. We soon named him La Reina de la Pampa (the Queen of the Pampa) because he commanded the attentions and services of his courtiers. When signaled, one of the boys held his ice cream cone so he could rummage through his knapsack. Another was quick to dab his face with a napkin when a bit of ice cream marred the royal mouth. At his summons, all three promptly arose and left with him, perhaps heading back to the royal palace. We departed soon thereafter, happy to have found a tiny slice of gay life in the heartland.