I land in Buenos Aires and search for my transfer to Splendid Hotel, just off of Avenue 9 de Julio. Wishing I'd worn my glasses for this part, I haul my bags away from luggage collection and squint at all of the names being held up. Finally, I see my name in capitals and greet my driver. I attempt some of the Spanish I've been learning in my lunch breaks, it does me well for a while, and he knows where I'm from, and that I enjoy rock music, but anything deeper is a little out of my linguistic capabilities. As we drive along the motorway I get a bubble of excitement rise from my stomach and produce a smile on my face. The spotless blue sky makes me immensely glad that I chose to leave
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