An ode to the solo trip

This post is dedicated to my somewhat newfound love for the solo trip. I took my first solo trip last fall, when I spent a stag weekend in Seattle following a work trip in Washington. My boyfriend had initially planned to meet me there, but he ended up having to back out at the last minute. I found myself very tempted to cancel my Airbnb reservation, but at the last minute, I decided to go anyways. I am so, so very happy I did, because I now look back on that trip as one of my favorite weekends to date and, what opened me up to the joy of travelin' solo.

Despite the fact that I am, by nature, an extrovert (ENFP's represent), I have always weirdly loved being alone. I genuinely enjoy eating in a restaurant by myself or sitting at the bar alone, having a cold one, and chatting it up with the bartender. Looking back on it now, this is probably why I have always had an inexplicable obsession with hanging out in airports (...?). The solo trip, however, was something I had never even considered doing until my spontaneous hang in Seattle. I think there are a few reasons for this. One of which being my crazy Italian mother and her horrifying machinations of what could possibly happen to me. Another reason could be the stigma given to solo lady travelers, and the idea that it is somehow more dangerous for us out there. Strangely enough, the main thing that prevented me from traveling solo for so many years, however, was not the fear of being alone, but rather the fear of not knowing what kind of travel buddy I would be to myself. Many people say that traveling with your significant other is a good test to see just how compatible the two of you are. But what about with yourself? What if I was so boring that I wanted to break up with myself?

Inspired by my trip to Seattle, I decided to take the leap and book a solo trip for myself here in Argentina, to a beach town about five hours to the north of Bahía Blanca, called Mar del Plata. MDP is the main beach destination for Porteños (Buenos Aires locals), and during the summer, the population nearly triples! During the off-season, though, there is still plenty to do, as around 700,000 Marplatenses (MDP locals) call the city home year-round. After hearing that MDP is known as the Happy City (and also happens to be Argentina's craft beer capital), it seemed as though I had found the perfect location for my first Argentine solo trip. And I was right!

I would now like to share with you, based on my trip to MDP, some of my favorite things about traveling alone. I learned a few of these during my trip to Seattle, but after having done through the entire experience again in another language, I can now confirm that solo trips are, in fact, the shit. Enjoy!

1) Solo trips restore your faith in humanity.

We have been taught from a young age to not talk to strangers. The thing is, though, when you are in a foreign country and it's dark and you can't find the place where you're staying, and you are ALONE, you need to talk to strangers. And you know what? Most of them are pretty nice. A nice gent walked with me for a few blocks until I found the right building, and I lived to tell the tale!

2) Zero pressure.

Needless to say, it is just straight up relaxing to travel alone. There really is no pressure to have a full travel itinerary, or go out on the town every night, if you don't feel like it. My first night in MDP, I ordered delivery food, watched weird cartoons in Spanish, and read a book in bed. Does that sound lame to you? Cool. F you. Plan your own solo trip.

2) You get to make your own schedule.

If you do find yourself wanting a day filled with touristy activities and sight-seeing, everything can be done at your own pace, and you can see what YOU want to see. My first full day in Mar del Plata, I walked for literally six hours from the beautiful, tree-lined Güemes neighborhood where I was staying to the Puerto to see the famed sea lion colony. I am fairly certain that NO ONE would have wanted to walk with me for six hours, but I was able to do it, because it was my trip! MDP has an incredible walking path that goes for miles and miles along the coast, which was the perfect way to see the city. Along the way, I stopped to see a few of the sights, such as the Torreón del Monje and the colorful Banquina de Pescadores.

3) #treatyoself

One of my favorite parts about traveling alone is obviously food and libations. There is something so very satisfying about ordering a nice meal for yourself. It is also really fun when people look at you and think that you are fancy and mysterious. Here is the fancy and mysterious salmon and midday white wine I treated myself to at a restaurant right on the beach. TREAT YOSELF, PEOPLE!

4) It is a great conversation starter.

Because people think you are either weird or fancy and mysterious for eating and drinking alone, you will usually strike up a conversation with someone pretty quickly. Friday evening of my trip, I decided to venture to one of MDP's many cervecerías artesenales, or craft brew pubs. I sat at the bar, ordered myself a beer flight and nachos*, and within about an hour, I was chatting with my waiter, the group of older people beside me, and a few locals my own age in no time. People are generally very curious as to why you are traveling alone, and to be honest, you gain street cred pretty quickly.

*The nachos were just stale chips with nacho cheese dip, but I am not going to complain about finding nacho cheese dip in Argentina.

5) It makes you more comfortable in your own skin.

Do not get me wrong: entering an extremely crowded, lively environment by yourself is by no means a comfortable thing to do. The first few minutes can be pretty painful, and it becomes evident how very dependent we all are on our cell phones. Back home in the States, if you really sit and watch someone sit alone for more than 10 seconds in a café or on a train, almost everyone will whip out their phone in order to have some sort of contact with someone and not feel awkward. Luckily for me, data is super expensive here and I don't use it, so I had no choice but to sit there and hang out with myself like a big ol' creeper. And you know what? It wasn't so bad. It's fun to people watch, to pay close attention to everything you are hearing and seeing, and to recognize how you are feeling just hanging by your lonesome. Disconnecting from other people and your phone really does help you realize how comfortable (or uncomfortable) you are just being alone.

I should also note that it is pretty bizarre in general to be on your phone in public here. It's like people actually go out to talk to each other and eat a meal, or something. Look at all these attractive human beings staring each other in the face! So weird.

6) Guilt-free selfies.

I HAD to take them. What other option was there? Ask a happy couple to take a solo picture of me in front of some landmark? I might be weird for traveling alone, but I'm not that weird. Embrace the selfie.

Seattle Selfie!

MDP Selfie!

Granted, I am no expert on taking solo trips, having been on only two (...and a half - I spent a day alone in New Orleans in January) so far. I must say, though, based on how much fun I've had with me on those I have taken, I'm considering asking myself to go on another one soon. I'm starting to think things might work out between us. And, who knows - maybe this will inspire one of you to take your first.

Following la buena onda

After our super relaxing trip to Mendoza, the city gals and I were ready for a change of pace and made our way to la Ciudad Autónoma de Buenos Aires. What I did not know before moving to Argentina is that, much like Washington DC, Buenos Aires is an autonomous district and is actually not a part of the Buenos Aires Province. In technical terms, it's its own thang. I live in Bahía Blanca, which is part of the Buenos Aires Province, and the capital of the province is actually La Plata, not the city of Buenos Aires. Confusing enough for you? Knowledge: dropped.

For those of you who know me, you know that I am a compulsive planner, and so it was that I became a bit anxious for the more touristy leg of our trip, because, alas, I did not have anything planned. I began to feel inadequate as a host and human being for not knowing enough about BA to develop a detailed itinerary for my friends, and I resigned, willingly, to learning about the city along with them. Here in Argentina, you will often hear the locals refer to "buena onda," which is basically "good vibes." It is a pretty versatile little phrase. A person can be "buena onda" if they are really chill, or you might go to a party for some drinks and the "buena onda," or good company. For this trip, I decided to follow the "buena onda" wherever it may lead and worry less about planning, for once. I should note that, in order to make myself feel a little better, I did make ONE reservation for us later in the week, to attend a closed door, or "puerta cerrada" dinner. This is a trendy thing to do in BA, where you go to a chef's home and have an intimate dinner with around 15 other people. At least I had that one plan to feel good about for the week...

We started off our first day in BA with a delicious breakfast in our neighborhood for the next few days, San Telmo. We received the recommendation from our Airbnb host, Mercedes, who we learned throughout the week is an urban architect, tango dancer, and complete badass. She is also, like, 70 years old yet stays out until at least 2 am every night. My friend Emily and I felt really cool one morning when she came up to us and told us that we looked like locals, then subsequently added that it was because we looked like complete shit. Needless to say, we quickly learned not to take her advice lightly.

After breakfast, we headed to La Boca, the colorful neighborhood in BA that you have probably seen if you've ever googled "Buenos Aires." La Boca, or "mouth" in Spanish, sits on the Matanza-Riachuelo River and was one of the first places that Italian immigrants settled in the city (later followed by immigrants from France, Spain, Germany, Greece, etc.). While La Boca still has plenty of character and flavor from its immigrant past, truth be told, it sort of turns into a tourist trap during the day. We still had a blast checking out some art, strolling down the famous street "El Caminito," and taking plenty of mandatory colorful pictures to make all of our friends really jealous.




As for the rest of our sight-seeing throughout the week, we opted to go on foot versus taking one of the hop-on, hop-off tour buses. This turned out to be a great decision, and we were able to see practically everything we wanted to see, including la Recoleta Cemetery, la Plaza de Mayo, Casa Rosada, the Obelisco, and el Teatro Colón. Being the ambitious young ladies that we are, we had wanted to check out MALBA, the Museum of Latin American Art, on the same day after all of this, but opted for white wine in the sun, instead. I was starting to get used to this no-planning business...


Some of our favorite meals in BA were also completely spontaneous, either in places we stumbled upon in our neighborhood or based on recommendations of friends and friends of friends. We particularly loved having drinks and a traditional picada, or a meat and cheese board similar to charcuterie, at El Federal, a cafe-bar in our neighborhood that has been in operation since 1864!



One of our favorite nights resulted from yet another recommendation from our life coach Mercedes, which was an inexpensive tango lesson, followed by a performance by a live tango orchestra and some impressive dancers. One of my friends even got whirled around the dance floor by a strapping young lad, who, like any good leader, made her look like she was a pro. Let it be known that, in truth, it takes (at least) two (cocktails) to tango.


Despite all of our jam-packed days of doing whatever the hell we felt like doing, we did have time for our trip to MALBA, where we saw some really funky exhibits. We particularly enjoyed one of an artist who was typing out stream-of-consciousness stories projected onto a wall about the people in the room. We had a good laugh as he surmised that we were best friends from high school and that we were laughing and whispering to one another because we "had a plan." For once, good sir, you could not be more wrong. We also enjoyed when our friend Arie took a selfie with a man who had a lamp for a head.


So, back to that one thing I DID have planned for the trip, our puerta cerrada dinner. After a long day out-and-about, we returned back to our place for a siesta and our daily check-in to the real world. Around 8:30 pm, an hour before we were supposed to leave for our dinner reservation, I found an email from the restaurant stating that if I didn't confirm that we were coming by 5:30 pm that day, they would cancel our reservation. I completely panicked, realizing that the one thing I planned was probably not going to happen. Oh, the irony. I was shaking and angry and convinced we were all going to starve in the land of meats and wine, all because of me. We ended up calling the restaurant, explained the misunderstanding, and everything worked out fine. ALTHOUGH they DID place us in a separate room, indoors, away from all of the other dinner guests, who were outdoors. Interesting. Doing a little improvising themselves, I see...!

Lesson learned. Planning is sometimes futile, and in reality, it can take a lot of the fun out of things. Based on the great success we had in BA from just winging it, I just may have to continue this trend of nixing plans and following la buena onda. Anyways, here's another selfie of Arie, with a creepy puppet and a guy who looks like the creepy puppet. I'm honestly not sure which is which.

The universality of wine, music, and selfies

For Easter week, known 'round these parts as la Semana Santa, I was lucky enough to have three of my best friends visit me from the States. At first, I was nervous about having visitors just two weeks after moving here, mainly because I am Type A and wanted to make sure I could be the best tour guide and resident Spanish-speaker possible, but it turned out to be an absolutely perfect time for them to come. After spending a few weeks here, the initial honeymoon phase was starting to wear off a bit, and I found myself getting a little homesick. What better cure than spending the holiday with dear friends and excessive amounts of wine? When I say excessive, I am not being facetious. I actually mean excessive. The definition of excessive is "more than necessary, normal, or desirable; immoderate." This is the word that I mean to use.

The girls arrived in Mendoza early Friday morning, and I flew in later that night to meet them. I cannot tell you how comforting it was to see them at our place, waiting for me, with a glass of wine ready for me on the table. We spent the evening catching up a bit, with wine, and then headed out on the town for more wine and empanadas. It was then that the girls became acquainted with the very, very long mealtimes here in Argentina. For a full-blown dinner, you usually need to allot around 4 hours, but for a snack of empanadas and wine, we were only there for, oh, about 3. Dinner also rarely starts before 10 pm unless you are a n00b, so needless to say, we have some pretty late nights here!

Mendoza is well-known, obviously, for the incredible wine, and also has a killer culinary scene. For this reason, most of our trip to Mendoza focused around the unbridled consumption of meats and wine. We spent two days in the downtown Mendoza, relaxing in equally massive and gorgeous Parque General San Martín, having a delicious lunch at Maria Antonieta, and taking plenty of siestas. The siesta is something that we in the States would not normally incorporate into vacation plans, especially when traveling to a foreign country, because we feel the need to maximize our time out and about seeing the sights. That being said, when your dinners don't start until 10 or 11 pm and last for 4-5 hours, naps become an essential part of your life. We also found that we had more time (and energy) to do what we wanted to do because of our midday naps. In summary, I am sold on siestas and I think my friends are, too. I think this will go over super well when they return to New York and let their managers know that they now require midday naps.

Naps and lying prostrate are also necessary when you eat steaks like this one, that fed FOUR PEOPLE at Francis Mallman 1184.

Before:

After:

Way after:

After our stay in downtown Mendoza, we moved to a new local, closer to the vineyards in an area known as Chacras de Coria. We had planned for one of our days out in wine country a bike tour of two different vineyards in the Luján de Cuyo region. Call me crazy, but before this tour, I had envisioned myself on a beach cruiser, in a sundress, giggling and swerving with a glass of wine in hand. This was not the case. When our tour guide (and Arie's future husband) Sergio came to pick us up for the tour, he had four intense mountain bikes in tow. It turned out to be QUITE the workout, but totally worth it. We definitely earned our wine!

Luckily for us (read: me), after the five-course lunch with wine pairings at the second vineyard, Sergio drives his customers back to their destination. Here we are, at lunch with Sergio. We all sort of look like meth junkies with rotting teeth, because we have consumed lots of red wine by this point:

Little did we know how much fun the ride home would be. It turns out, Sergio had a CD he had burned in the car (respect) with high-quality selections including, but not limited to, "Call Me, Maybe" and "Sexy Bitch." This is the moment in which I realized that language barriers, are in reality, not a thing. Language barriers are man-made. If you think about it, language barriers only come up in times of conflict, when we are frustrated and can't (or rather, choose not to) understand someone. People will chalk uncomfortable situations or confrontations up to a language barrier and move on. In reality, guys, we all just want to have a drunken afternoon dance party in a car. I find it important to note that Sergio was not drunk. He just has the best job ever and gets to drive pretty drunk girls around for money.

As if this wasn't already the "best day ever," we had plans that evening to have dinner at the home of a dear friend of mine, Pedro, that I met here in Bahía Blanca. He invited us over to try a typical Argentine dish, pollo al disco. Upon arrival, the language barrier demon started haunting me again, and I became worried that my friends would not be able to talk to anyone, since only one of them could speak some Spanish, and Pedro and his roommates did not speak much English. I quickly realized (like, within the first two minutes) that this was not going to be a problem. Everyone immediately started mingling and talking, with the help of our BFF, wine.

After the delicious meal, Pedro explained the rule of his household: every guest that entered was required to play a musical instrument. He handed instruments to each of us, and we began what was one of our favorite nights of the trip (and ever). Pedro and his friends put on a full-blown musical perfomance, complete with guitars, piano, trumpet, and flute, playing everything from tradtional Chilean folk tunes to the Backstreet Boys and Blink-182. As I sat back in my chair and watched my three friends learning a traditional Argentine dance, la zamba, I honestly could not help but smile. Despite the fact that we couldn't speak the same language, we had all come together to laugh, drink, dance, and sing. As I said before, language barriers are some bullshit.

Ok... except for the time when I tried to call a cab for us and got hung up on three times. And the time when the guy at the ice cream store didn't understand that my friend just wanted chocolate crunchies on her ice cream cone, and I said "fuck." I still feel kinda bad about that. I'm telling you, people, ONLY IN TIMES OF CONFLICT.

Learning to say "yes" more.

I arrived in Argentina exactly two weeks ago today. Time has flown by, mainly because the first week was marked by a lot of orientating and shuffling around my 100+ pounds of luggage from big airport to taxi to airbnb to taxi to hotel to taxi to smaller airport to car to new apartment (Who let me bring a suitcase filled with shoes that I hate and bars of soap?). I must say, however, that in my two short weeks here, I feel that I have covered a lot of ground. The main reason for this has been my (extremely) concerted effort to say "yes" to opportunities as they arise.

We all know how easy (and delicious) it can be to turn down drinks with friends to stay under a blanket and watch Netflix. Now, imagine that same scenario, except that your friends are complete strangers, and they don't speak the same language as you. And, in order to go find them, you have to walk through a town you've never been to before, in the dark, with a map made out of PAPER. I don't know about you, but that makes me want to drink copious amounts of wine in my home, in the darkness, with my friends Leslie and Ron.

As I mentioned in my first post, the reason why I wanted to come here to Argentina was to challenge myself, which is, by definition the opposite of watching Netflix. For this reason, I really pushed myself over these first few weeks to say "yes" more, even when I have been tired or nervous or homesick. I am happy to report that in doing so, the following incredible things have come to fruition:

I went directly to the zoo by myself in Buenos Aires after a long, tiring flight and met a lot of cute little friends, some of which I have only seen on cereal boxes.

I bought a bike! This is, literally, the first bike I have owned since I was about 11 years old. It's orange, and I love it so far. I rode it to work this past Friday. It was really windy, and I ate lots of bugs. Here it is, chained up outside of my apartment. No idea how I got that up there. In all honestly, it may have to stay there forever.

I attended two incredibly fun dinner parties with two separate groups of new, welcoming friends. I understood about 70% of what we talked about, but laughed 100% of the time.

I shared traditional mate with new friends and liked it enough to buy my own bombilla (straw) and gourd. Check it, yo.

I also tried tereré, a cold variation of mate usually served with juice. It was delish, and even more so because I was sitting around a swimming pool with friends and TWO DOGGIES THAT KNOW SPANISH!

I went to the movies to see a film that was completely in Argentine Spanish, with no subtitles. I also understood about 70%, but only laughed about 40% of the time, this time. It was a funny movie, but it wasn't THAT funny. I did find out who Argentine actor Chino Darín is, though, and you're welcome, ladies.

I learned what cumbia music is all about and how to dance to it. Still working on this one.

I went to an intimate piano concert in the beautiful Teatro Municipal of my town, Bahía Blanca.

I learned that Fernet is in fact tolerable when mixed with coke. Chicago, get on this.

I ate many unknown meats, some of which did not pass the smell-and-lick test prior to eating. It turns out that "chinchulines" are not a type of shrimp... (Google them now).

I went to a dance club, also known as a "boliche" here in Argentina, for two consecutive nights, until well past 5 am. If this doesn't merit some type of award at this stage in my life, then I honestly don't know what does.

I made an effort to talk with and get to know my new neighbors, including the owner of a homemade pasta shop. Definitely not upset about having THIS a block away from me for around $4...

I kept speaking in Spanish, even when my head hurt and I was frustrated and embarrassed and wanted to cry. And, I am happy to report that it is getting easier every day.

In looking back on my first two weeks here, it is pretty incredible how much I have been able to accomplish just from accepting invitations that come my way or forcing myself to leave my apartment and explore. Above all, I have been moved beyond words by the kindness of everyone I have met so far. I was genuinely worried upon arriving here that I would have no friends for the next 10 months, mainly because I am unable to make jokes in Spanish (on purpose). To my great surprise, people still like me and choose to willingly hang out with me! I'm hoping to learn some jokes in Spanish over the next few weeks in order to ensure they stick around and continue being my friends.

I am happy to call you my new home, Bahía Blanca.

Oh, one more thing. While I did say "yes" to all of these awesome, productive activities, Netflix DOES work here (!!!) and I DID also say "yes" to binge-watching all of the Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. Highly recommend.

Also, I should mention that I do not condone saying "yes" to crack, kids.

Bienvenidos!

Hola amigos! Whether you meant to or not, you have found yourself at my blog. Welcome! I have never blogged about anything before, mainly because nothing I have done up until this point has been as cool or blog-worth as moving to the end of the Earth. Nonetheless, I have decided to take a stab in order to record some of my thoughts, pictures, and memories from my year in Argentina for my own benefit, while bringing some of you along for the ride, if you so choose.

Based on my blogging experience thus far (i.e. the above paragraph), the most difficult part about starting a blog is coming up with a good title. The key is to find something that is kitschy enough to draw people in without sounding like a pretentious d-bag. This is a surprisingly small window of opportunity. Luckily, the title of my blog came quite naturally to me. For those of you who know me well, you may be thinking, "Of course it did, genius. You are an improviser, and you just moved to a Spanish-speaking country." While both of these things are in fact true, I promise you that the title does hold a little more weight than that, so hear me out.

When applying for my Fulbright grant in Argentina, we were asked to submit a one-page personal statement, basically asking us to summarize who we are, where we've been, what's important to us, and where we're going. This would be really easy, except for the fact that it's a TRICK QUESTION BECAUSE NO ONE KNOWS THE ANSWER TO ANY OF THIS, EVER, UNTIL WE DIE AND BILL MURRAY TELLS US. Despite the fact that it was impossible, I still did it, because I had to in order to complete the application. I chose to write my essay based on a maxim that is near and dear to my heart, that I learned from studying improvisation in Chicago, which is follow the fear.

While it may seem simple to most, this phenomenon is something so very special, and almost magical, that many of us do subconsciously throughout our lives without ever really noticing the immense benefits. The things that frighten us the most always, without fail, lead to the most rewarding experiences and opportunities for personal growth. While I sort of always knew this, hearing this phrase said aloud for the first time challenged me to really think about all of the good things that have come from making myself uncomfortable. It was because of this phrase that I began to recognize how comfortable and stable I felt in Chicago, and subsequently, how it was time for me to move on in order to do something new, scary, and unknown. It felt right, then, to dedicate this blog to a lesson learned from improvising both literally on a stage and throughout this crazy life. Only time will tell if I am completely insane for leaving behind everything I know and love, but based on my past experience with scaring the shit out of myself, I have a feeling this will be a pretty amazing year. Thanks for joining me on this adventure!

SPOILER ALERT: I am actually insane.