Flags, Pizza and The Mafia - A Trip to Rosario

  As a football fan, the mentioning of Argentina produces an instinctual reaction of one name to come to mind - Messi. The Greatest of All Time represents something of a religious figure for fans of the beautiful game, and subsequently a pilgrimage to his home-city of Rosario was an essential on my Argentinean itinerary. In addition to Messi, Rosario also boasts the title of the birthplace of the hipster's favourite revolutionist Che Guevara - that makes up quite the fantasy tea party if you ask me. To top it all off, Rosario is known as the most dangerous city in Argentina, rife with the trafficking of both narcotics and human beings...

  If that doesn't scream tourism honeypot I don't know what does.

  Anyhow, I was buzzing. I hadn't left the comforts of Gualeguay for almost four weeks and the chance to broaden my horizons in this country was an attractive prospect. We set off with the mate flowing and the Cumbia thumping (of course) and set off on the two and a bit hour trip to the big city.

The signage on the F1 circuit that is
Argentinean highways. 

  The monotonic view of cows and fields - that seem to make up 95% of this place - was livened up by the driving style here. The general rule is that if a car is slower than you, you overtake it as quickly as possible. Sounds simple. But when the 'racetrack' is a one lane highway on a rollercoaster terrain with limited view of what's coming the other way it can be quite the spectacle. My seat had a few tight grip marks by the time we had arrived let's just say that.

  What first struck me about Rosario was the presence of the local 'mafia', they were everywhere. They weren't there to ruin your life though, but to help you out. If you needed a parking space there was one to guide you and there was even someone around to look after your car. Needless to say that this was not a free service, and the denial of this would lead to them to the same individual becoming an instant security threat but who doesn't love a bit of beneficial blackmail? So long as the odd few pesos were flowing, everyone was smiling.

Buena Onda ('Good Wave/Vibe')
all round.

  We had some lunch - well most of us did, the daughter Camila's order just never appeared and she went hungry - and wandered towards the Monumento a la Bandera (Flag Monument). On our way we  encountered a huge line of people - a queue the British would be proud of - who it turns out were waiting to have a slice of a really long pizza. The word was that it was the World's Longest Pizza, but at 100 metres it turns out that was b****hit (1.15 miles in Naples made this look like a standard Dominoes). I really didn't understand why people were queueing for so long for a square of what looked like ordinary pizza, but as with everything I don't understand here (lots) I accepted it as a difference in culture.

'Monumento a la Bandera through the Fuego'

  The monument was very nice indeed. The South American twin of the Washington D.C. equivalent, I would say. It was supposedly the place where the country's flag was first erected by San Belgrano (that's all the history you're getting) and it was a very suitable location for some family pictures. The Argentinean flag has always been one of my preferred World flags (along with South Korea, Brazil and Ghana). The colours are like the sky on a wispy cloudy summer's day, joined by it's good mate the sun. A solid 8/10 as far as flags go. The monument also had an eternally ignited fire which always makes for a bit of edgy photography.

Cutting edge photography of the
Estadio Gigante de Arroyito. 

  After the monument we went in search of the Estadio Gigante de Arroyito, the cancha of Rosario Central. It was a toss up between that and the home of Newell's Old Boys, but Lucas (family son) had already been there on a school trip and I preferred the Rosario Central kit so the decision was made.

  I encountered another 'cultural difference' when at every traffic light we asked the car next to us for directions before sharing a bit of banter and continuing our search. I tried to explain in Spanish that in England most people would lock their doors and look the other way in a similar situation. Judging by their reactions a career promoting British tourism is probably out the window.

Proud to sign for Rosario Central

  When we arrived at the stadium, which is surrounded by streets of Rosario Central graffiti and yellow and blue paint, we found it was closed today. Vintage Colman luck. Nevertheless we had a walk around and I took some more snaps. It was busy for a day where it was closed and it was explained that families often go to the stadiums at weekends for Assados (BBQs), drinks and general good atmosphere. As compulsory tradition, I bought a shirt* from the club shop - a small room - and with that I was happy.

  And with that our trip to Rosario was complete. There is certainly the potential for a few days exploration but for the limited time we had, we did a good job. I didn't want to get trafficked after all. I saw a famous flag monument, a long pizza and another stadium was ticked off the list complete with shirt so I couldn't have asked for more. That was until the journey home when I saw what was arguably the most stunning sunset I have ever witnessed. It only seems suitable to end this article with a picture of the scene...

Thanks for reading.

*Having seen a medium size I strolled up to the till only to be told it was a girl's version. I was handed an XL instead which I baulked at, but it fit perfectly and I bought that. Me in an Extra Large, this place is more paradoxical than I thought...