Photographers' plague, part 2

On Sunday I marched again to gather with a different group of people... mostly friends and acquaintances of a friend of mine, who, coincidentally, were mostly photographers. I was digital, they were analog, but that was it. (I must note that, depending on to the people involved, a digital vs. film discussion may or may not become a religious war.)

We were supposed to gather at the door of the Club Mitre, or Club de Pescadores (Fishermen's Club), which is located on the... I can't call that a beach... let's say at the foot of the ravine of the Paraná River. You come from the city center down Corrientes St., and after passing the Rosario Central Station you are in the Parque de España. There are an elevator and a staircase which take you closer to the water level, where you'll find, on one side, a simple restaurant specialized in local fish, and on the other, an outdoor space with tables, chairs, and asadores with parrillas (that's barbecue platforms with grills).

If you want to eat at the restaurant, you don't pay anything to enter the club, and you can have (for example) a boga for two for 30 pesos, or a parrillada (good for one young male or two non-voracious females, according to the lady in charge) for AR$18.50. If you prefer to use the other facilities, you pay 4 pesos to enter, and you must bring your own food and whatever you're going to use in order to cook it and eat it.

When I showed up, at 11 AM, there were a group of people, some toting humongous cameras, but no sign of my friend. She came a bit later, and together with another friend of mine went to the supermarket to get some hamburgers, bread, tomatoes, lettuce, mayonnaise, and ketchup. That was to be our lunch. It took longer than I expected for such simple arrangements, mainly because there was almost no dry wood and old newspapers to help kindle the fire.

More people came, some went away. It was a peaceful afternoon, which I needed badly. I took pictures... nothing fancy, some of the people, to document the event, and some of the very nice view of the river, and a couple of ship-spotting pictures as well (I saw a LNG carrier!).

The morning was a bit cold, but sunny. The afternoon alternated between sunny and freezing, following the cloud cover.

We left the club at about 5 PM, and went to see a collective photo exhibition at the Centro de Expresiones Contemporáneas (CEC), which is a group of former port storehouses appropriated by the municipal government and refurbished to serve as a culture center (mainly for low-budget things, fan conventions like Leyendas, and non-massive rock concerts). The pictures on display were 25% good, 50% just (or barely) nice to look at, 25% too artsy or "conceptual" for their own good. We left the CEC as the sun went down.