Don´t cry for me, Argentina, The truth is I neeeever left you.... Yeah, whatever. Anyways, here I is, and it´s even better than I remembered. I love the way the Taxi driver´s talk to you. I love the way the people who work in Bars, cafes, restaurants, youth hostels, ets, are all friendly and smiley and chatty and helpful. I love the way they all seem to understand my Spanish, without looking at me like I have mental problems and needing me to repeat myself 2 or 3 times before grudgingly revealing that they may understand afterall. I love that I can go sit outside a bar on the town square full of palms and aronge trees, and get a coffee, the best pizza I´ve had since, well, since I left BsAs, and a lovely big
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