Adventure is made up of small bumps which, at the time, feel like nothing more than a continuation of all of one´s previous moments. Adventure is only so called in retrospect, and so being laid up in a cheap hostel in Bariloche, on the western edge of Argentina, with an inner left thigh that decided suddenly to swell to uncomfortable proportions on the bus ride from Buenos Aires will one day be seen as a small adventure, but today it hurts like hell. Though I am a proponent of universal public healthcare, one must also be realistic and, if a country is to go that route, very vigilant. A trip to the free public hospital yesterday administered a stiff slap in the face in the form of long lines everywhere, with seemingly no order being imposed
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