The eccentric El Russo enjoying the hammock I donated. I bought this for $5 on the border of Nicaragua and decided to hand it over after finding out about how much of Russo's furniture was lost when his house was mysteriously burnt down.

Our luxurious abode until it got too cold and El Russo put us up in the caravan...
Morning mate




I had such a crazy, outrageous, warming time at the ranch of El Russo with Cata and Russo's girlfriend Luciana, I would almost call it a life changing experience. Staying and connecting with truly Argentinian strangers with amazing life stories really felt like traveling in its purest form. El Russo had this crazy in-your-face energy, he spoke in Spanish phrases and expressions and just wanted to seize every moment and take it for a ride. I will miss his humble silo and caravan though Cata and I plan to return and silo sit for him next year as he won't leave for trips to the city without having someone at home.

Over the few days I got to know El Russo, I discovered his sea change story hadn't been as breezy as the coastal cliffs of Chapadmalal. His story told of heartbreak and loss which came to a pinnacle when his self built house with all his musical equipment and memorabilia was mysteriously burnt to ashes while he was away in Buenos Aires. He explained how some country folk took him in and calmed his fuming mind before he proceeded to work alone and shirtless through the freezing winter weathering frigid rain and sleet building a new life - which is his current silo made home.




We jammin!



I managed to borrow an old board from a neighbour and before long I was finally surfing th great Atlantic Ocean. I got some really fun waves in the glowing light blue then retired back to El Russo's settlement and hung around the warm fire. El Russo's love of music soon became obvious as after dinner we were drinking Argentine wine smashing out tunes with a full drum kit, numerous types of African drums, a guitar, bass and amp and a couple of acoustics at our disposal. We played as loud and as passionately as we could till the early hours of the morning before passing out in our tent with ears ringing.

Searching for El Russo...

Heading to check the surf on Estrella...


During a late drinking session at a remote beach in Northern Uruguay, a couple of New Yorker surfers told me about their experience with the mysterious El Russo of Chapadmalal. El Russo was a Buenos Aires city slicker who deflected down to the sleepy coastal town of Chapadmalal to escape the hustle and live as a free spirit. I was told that traveling surfers and musicians are welcomed by El Russo who lives in a silo. When asked how I could contact him they just told me to rock up and ask around till someone knows him. After telling the adventure loving Catalina this tale, we took a second then our fate was decided - we were going to search for the mysterious El Russo in the Easter holidays...

We boarded an overnight 8 hour bus at the packed terminal and woke up at the coastal city of Mar Del Plata. We then sleepily jumped on a smaller bus that took us another hour south and dropped us off in the tiny town of Chapadmalal at the awkward time of sunrise. We asked an old couple about El Russo, they said they had never heard of him though kindly offered a place at their place. We almost accepted the offer before a young local lad eavesdropping exclaimed in Spanish " Hey I know El Russo, Vamos!".
After driving through some lonely fields a few kms back from the beach we stopped to talk to this eclectic looking guy in his 30's wearing reggae pants, sporting short black hair with a mullet of dreadlocks walking a dinosaur of a dog. Apparently this was they guy - so I got out, introduced myself (he spoke no English) and before we knew it we were warmly welcomed into his silo and he was preparing a couple of fine steeds for an afternoon ride to check the surf...

People drink mate everywhere, even on the bus!
The terminal was packed for the Easter holidays...
Rocking up in Chapadmalal contemplating our next move with some tunes from Cata...
Back in Buenos...Football fanatics heading to a game with a police escort...


Returning back to BA was perfect for me after such an arduous adventure in Chile. I was greeted in the morning by Cata making me coffee and croissants and a welcoming hug and kiss from Mamma and Pappa Micozzi. I had a great week hanging out in my favorite city endlessly exploring new places and the fascinating San Telmo markets.
We had a few great options for the Easter long weekend - including staying at a ranch in the south, hanging with some hippies up in Cordoba or searching for the mysterious "El Russo" down on the Atlantic coastline...

At the border...



Graffiti bringing the streets some heart...
Jimmy...
Coastal town in Chile...
I was pretty happy to leave the waveless city of Santiago and head back to my beloved Buenos Aires. One aspect of Santiago I really did love was the flourishing graffiti culture. Wandering the streets you can find commissioned and illegal works of stencils, wild styles, 3Ds, freaky Euro styles to political stompers and everything in between. The uninvited colour and flare really lights up the otherwise dull streets of the city. Boarding the BA bound double decker in the morning for another whopper 24 hour journey through the Los Andes, I was given the very front seat of the top deck - a pretty daunting view especially around winding cliffs. I was sitting next to a Chileano grandma and we chatted for hours about each others country and what we loved about BA - great Spanish practice. As we drove through a particular mountain tunnel, she told me the exact point at which the water runs in opposite directions from the peak - was the border of Argentina and Chile. As we approached the border the road became uncomfortably winding and on one particular bend I peered down and saw a burnt out bus upturned halfway down a cliff! At this point I got up and sat down the back for a while...
Apart from the dodgy cliffs, the drive through the famous mountain range was stunning; arid snow capped jagged peaks gave way to lush fertile valleys as we were welcomed into the great Argentina once more.