Buenos Aires

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On Sunday October 21st in the mild morning our night-bus from Iguazu reached the outskirts of Buenos Aires. For me, looking sleepily out of the windows, this was a big moment in our trip. From landing in Lima months before Eddie and I had been left to our own devices to cross the continent in order to pick-up our next flight, out of South America altogether. This was the our final destination on our South American journey, one that had taken us from Pacific to Atlantic, through sprawling cities, empty mountains and wild jungle. From those confusing and bewildering first few days in Lima we had made it. All we had to do was stay in Buenos Aires for two weeks and catch our flight. Luckily hanging about in Buenos Aires can be pretty good fun.

We'd travel met up with a friend from Cordoba in Iguazu who caught the bus with us and recommened a place to stay. She took us to Hostal Clan- she did good. Clan is, I suppose, a 'party hostel' but its much better than it sounds. Unlike the more famous (expensive, regulated, impersonal) fun of Millhouses Clan is a truly communal experience. We soon found that it is almost totally dominated by celts (the Irish, Scots and Welsh ran the place from top-to-bottom) with a sprinkling of Aussies and Europeans. It being a Sunday morning preceeded by Saturday night there were still quite a few casualties milling around the atrium. As we sat waiting for some dorm beds to become free a familair faced peered out of a near by door. Poor Walter looked very confused as he shuffled over and we casually restarted conversations where we'd left off in Rosario earlier that week.

We spent the first few days wandering about near to the hostal which is in walking distance of most of the micro-centro. We took in all the obvious sites, the Pink House, Congress, San telmo and it's hippies hawking crap etc etc. Within the second day I decieded that I would turn the nights over to hedonism, a policy which worked very well. Mostly noctural events at the Clan have all blurred together. Sitting at a long table, shouting, listening to peoples ipods through the sound system, charging beer after beer to my account (I actually owed three times more for drink when I came to check out than for the bed) I was trully content.

We saw a River Plate game; the second leg of the semi-final of the South American cup against Defensor of Uruguay. Nill-nill; Orteaga was rubbish, River had already won the away leg. The atmosphere was awsome though. The fans literally jump up and down for two hours straight.

For food we ate steak. For lunch a thin slice in a roll, the Lomito and for tea the full works. We, like most at Clan, were particuarly fond of Desnivel in San Telmo for its amazing quality, low prices, angry service and cheap vino tinto served in penguin decanters.

A note of caution. That long appointed early morning start on November 2nd, when Eddie and I would undertake a journey from Buenos Aires to Sydney (i.e. sensible time) was not pleasant. After twleve days staright of intoxication the DTs hit me pretty hard and I finally realised that what I really needed was not beer and steak etc, but a nice lie down and some fresh air. 29 hours inside plane cabins and airports provide neither!

Nevertheless just before midnight on November 2nd our plane took off from the runway at Santiago Airport and we were gone from South America.

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Photos

I am dressed as the Bolivian Navy
Yes, I dressed up as an organisation. A tribute to my favorite country in South America.

Blah, Blah, Blah
Doing what I love the most.