A Very Good Day in Argentina

This weekend sees the World Rally Argentina take place in Cordoba province, a mere sniff and stones throw from where I am at the Estancia. Sadly for us (but happily for the bosses) the Estancia is so full we’re running two houses, kitchens, horses etc and doing a polo week, so there’s zip chance of getting to see the competition as all holiday is cancelled.

However following a short meeting with the management (where we voiced a little concern over the millions of hours we’ll be working without a break), Becca and myself were given a days holiday on Tuesday, coincidentally the same day that Tasha already had as holiday.

But I need to backtrack slightly… I also had a days holiday on Saturday and went jollying off into Cordoba buying jeans, a top and almost buying about 6 leather jackets, seriously, they’re that good. The clothes shops out here are fabulous and exceedingly reasonable for gorg-eous beautiful Italianesque stuff (the Italians settled Argentina more or less and so there’s loads of their food influence and clothing etc… bit more to the history of it really, but that isn’t what this post is about).

After some plastic bashing in Patio Olmo (upmarket equivilent of Meadowhall), and back in the happening village puddle that is Rio Ceballos, I ran into Graciela (29), the wife of our head gaucho.

After talking about the supermarket shopping she was on her way to do, I took a punt and said, “fancy a beer?” (although in Spanish obviously). She bit my arm off.

We went to a nearby bar (Bokete… where everyone goes) and in due course her two boys (8 and 10) came along with their uncle… who is rather gorgeous and single, and brother to Luis who I work every day with. Long story cut short… at the end of the night gorgeous uncle said we should we go out. Grinned my way back in a taxi to the Estancia.

Monday morning, guess who shows up at the Estancia with his nephews who have Easter Monday off school… (I’m looking a wreck by the way, no hot water so cold shower, grumpy cos I’m getting up early and haven’t had enough sleep)… anyway he’s around all day. I finally get chance to smarten myself up for dinner just as he’s leaving… anyway we (in this post the “we” generally refers to the English girls) shoe horn into converation that we have Tuesday off and if he and a couple of mates fancy it we’re going into Cordoba…

Tuesday 12 noon, he shows up (cue heart palpitations and sharp intake of breath), shortly followed by his mate in an Escort (oh the memories of dates and boyfriends with Escorts) and we load into Pepe’s car (Becca, Tasha, Julio – yes that’s his name – and myself) and head off to Cordoba. Conversation turns to the Rally and we go and track down the stage which is near to the Stadium in Cordoba and watch the practise cars going around testing the track. All good stuff, no famous drivers but a few co driver types taking notes in their Volvos.

With our appetites whetted, we shun the offer of an artesanal market visit… (sorry Tash!)… and head off on a bit of a flyer to a place called Carlos Paz. Where the Rally teams have their service base. Hoping we might see some cars or something, even though the rally won’t start for another 2 days.

At this point I really want to THANK Pepe for driving us around. If we hadn’t had him and Julio there is no way we’d have had any chance of seeing so much as a whiff of Rally dust. As it was, their local knowledge, combined with a bit of girlieness, we were really very lucky indeed. And this is another reason why I like South America… you wouldn’t have stood a chance of this in Britain.

On arrival we find the marques and car paraphernalia. It’s pretty quiet, but things are being set up. We don’t have passes, but the police are happy enough to let us into the main area, though not into any of the team areas.

The boys start happily snapping the car tents, some with cars in. Although the poor Subaru team didn’t have a car as it was stuck in the strike traffic (farmers are being outrageously taxed in Argentina at the moment and are protesting with various road closures and stoppages). Becca and I start, without originally realising it, pressing our female advantage… (we were virtually the only women there).

First call the Pirelli tent. We find making conversation over the barrier with the Italians very easy. We chat in some mixture of Italian and Spanish and after a while… jump the barrier. The police officials helpfully look the other way.

A quick espresso with the boys and some pics around the large piles of tyres (each car gets through 36 Pirelli tyres over the 3 days), I speak to the head honcho… who ACTUALLY says that if I am around the following day I can speak to the marketing boss re a job! (Probably wouldn’t have happened, but how flipping great or what!) We promise to come back later and pick up our free Pirelli caps… shame we won’t be able to meet the guys in the local bars over the next few days. Some beautiful Italians it has to be said.

Not much joy at the Suburu tent. Geeky bunch of Brits, nowhere near as female friendly as the Italians… have a chat with a geeky lad who looks around 18, although is probably 35 and is actually in charge of a Suburu. Although they don’t have the cars in and their stand is virtually empty.

A few of the teams have British guys working on cars and we get lucky at Ford, on Peter Solbergs car.

Scooter, who’s in charge of the car invites us over the fence if we want. Becca and I are over in a flash (and it’s not an easy thing to climb over. adorned with boards and posters there’s nowhere to stick your toes in to climb over).

And yes, it is okay if we want a sit in the car.

OMflippingheck.

I was actually shaking. I do not get close to World Rally cars let alone sit in them. Scooter was a complete Welsh sweetie. He took me through all the controls, we talked about the nice drivers and the ego drivers, how it is being on the road for months at a time and who’s going to win… everyone thought Sebastian Loeb in the Citroen.

Please do take a look at the pics to verify that I’m not making this stuff up. It was completely fab.

Time passed, I sat in the drivers and co-driver seat, Scooter showed me all the electronics and read outs on the display panel that the co-driver uses, miles to go, miles covered, stage times, fuel, emergency panels etc. By the way, the co-drivers seat really is SOOOO low down, you really can’t see a thing and the driver has great visibility over your head. All the cars are fitted with cameras inside for TV purposes, and seats aren’t like F1 seats and are standard rather than fitted to the driver. They have lumbar pumps in the seats, and air vents in the roof. Dad – I’m afraid I didn’t ask any engine, performance, suspension or other actual mechanical questions!

Eventually the guys hopped over the fence with Tasha, they took some pics and finally we left. (To pick up our Pirelli caps actually).

Heading into Cordoba at last, we had something to eat and some beers and made it back to the Estancia for 3am. I got up at 7.30am and worked through until midnight. Fortunately today it rained and I’ve had time to have a (hot!) shower and a decent siesta.

Really hope some of you get to watch some of the Rally on the TV. It’s all filmed near to where I am and will give you an idea of the scenery. In fact the main road up to the Estancia (which like 27% of Argentine roads isn’t paved) used to be one of the stages in the Rally. Although because a huge storm brought us immense and amazing lightening last night, it also meant that we’ve had a large amount of rain and I would imagine that the initial stages at least are going to be dangerously slippery.

Anyway, all in all a cracking day off. And just to top it off, think I’m going out with Julio on my next day off…