Bad times in Mendoza

It's a bad start to Mendoza. I arrive at Buenos Aires Aeroparque airport to chaos. I can barely squeeze through the doors as the departure hall is packed with frustrated travellers. All the check-in desks are surrounded by angry people so it's impossible to find someone to talk to. On the monitors it shows all flights as delayed. I'm standing bemused with no idea what to do when I bizarrely spot my Patagonian tour guide in the crowd. He tells me there was a storm in Buenos Aires last night which damaged the control tower antennae? and it doesn't look like anyone will be flying today.

There's nothing to do but hang around and see what happens. I even make a start on Anna Karenina which I've been lugging in my backpack since the start of my trip. My flight, at 5pm is cancelled and I'm put on standby for a flight at midnight. After all the queueing and waiting I feel lucky to get on.

I arrive in Mendoza at 2am shattered. The hotel where I'm supposed to be staying is full so I end up crashing on their sofa until the morning when I can check in. After a couple of hours sleep I decide to walk around the city. I'm pleasantly surprised. Mendoza is a lot bigger than I envisaged, with a population of over one million It's sits at the foot of the Andes and is surrounded by vineyards and wineries. Its wide tree-lined streets are bustling with beautiful people. There are cafes and ice cream parlours everywhere and the shady squares remind me a little of Savannah in the US. I like it here immediately. I start by visiting some of the leafy squares in the centre of town. One of the most attractive is the Plaza Espana, which has beautiful tiled benches and a mural illustrating the epic gaucho poem, Martin Fierro.

While I'm busily photographing tiles I'll called over by four women in gyspy dress. They ask me to sit down and ask me where I'm from. The conversation is going swimmingly well until one of them wants to read my palm. There are some (quiet) bells going off in my head but at the time I think it might be amusing to see if it's the same spiel I've heard before. She leads me to a bench, looks at my palm and tells me that I suffer from loneliness and have a lack of love in my life. Oh dear. I have heard it all before. She says she can 'fix' the problem and keeps repeating the phrase 'You have no idea how powerful I am'. I should have walked away at that point but I was curious to see how it would pan out.

She says she doesn't want any money and then asks me for a piece of paper so I give her an old post-it note I find in my bag. She then asks for a note (of money) but says she'll give it back. I give her one of not much value and half expect her to run off with it, although she´s no Linford Christie. Instead she scrunches it up in her hand and pours water over it, mashing it into a pulp. I watch this bemusedly with no idea what's happening, apart from the fact that somehow I am being conned. In a menacing deep voice, not dissimilar to the Exorcist girl, she asks for another note. Afraid of being stabbed at this point I hand over another note which she proceeds to scrunch up and pour water over too while chanting some indecipherable babble. I'm not sure how I'm going to get extricate myself from this awkward situation but then I spot the money in her hand, grab it and walk off. She shouts after me that I'll be cursed forever. When I look back I see that her gypsy friend is holding her back and saying to me 'Don`t worry you'll be very lucky in life.' Evidently.

(Photo - Plaza Espana)