This entry covers 5 to 8 December 5 December
One thing I can’t help noting is how proud Argentina’s servants of public transport are. They greet you in full number 1’s smiling from ear to ear…you wouldn’t believe they could possibly be so excited to embark on a journey lasting the better part of a CSI series.
The rising bell left me scrambling for my dictionary as I’d already missed the 1st 4 numbers of bingo. While quite proud that I’d nailed 1 to 10, most of the teens and some multiples of 10, bingo is somewhat of an intense contest when you’re rifling through pages of number translations. Needless to say some belter in the 3rd row won a couple bottles of wine and a kiss on both cheeks from the host.
As I glanced out the window my breathing became short and shallow with excitement. Azure, sapphire, cerulean, turquoise (ok I right click / synonymed those but back to the point)…like a sheet of brilliant glass lying beneath craggy outcrops and powder capped peaks this is what trout heaven must be like. So clean was the water that I had to flick my brow to make sure I didn’t have my Poleroids on. Reality check…my sunnies disappeared weeks ago and were replaced by steamy white rimmed puppies who sole purpose includes reflecting flies and gnats rather than UV rays and glare!
The luxury liner touched down in Bariloche at 2.30pm…yes, exactly 2.30pm. 16 hours of driving and our proud servant of public transport had arrived on time. My research and hostel talk left me with no option but to head straight to Hostel 1004. I trudged up the street passing one Zalbach retreat after the next in search of a backpack looking abode with the name 1004 emblazoned on a plaque. In my best Spanglish, I asked a passer by who pointed at this horrific looking 10 story apartment block.
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