South American Culinary Tour: The End of the Road?

The hostel served up some licuado this morning - not so good and after, my stomach ... ooh ... not good ... Today is my last day in South America - the original plan was to do a day trip somewhere, perhaps San Antonio de Areco. But with that crazy full-body cramp last night, I decided just to take things easy, since I was still feeling a bit wrecked. Instead, I'm just going to be lazy and bum around BA.

As I packed up and left the room, the smelly Dutch guy woke up and asked me what time it was. I told him, but seeing that he had slept in the SAME outfit that he'd been wearing the previous two days, perhaps I should've given him some advice and said "Time for you to take a shower!"

Off for a walk - Florida was quiet, since it was a Saturday morning. Over to the Metropolitan Cathedral - I had walked over here on our second day in BA, with R&D and Wade, but we never went inside. The cathedral has a much larger interior than you would think, given how it looks from the exterior.

Inside were a number of tombs, with familiar names like Chacabuco, Maipu, and Las Heras - many streets in Argentina, and even Chile, are named after these guys. Coincidentally, Chacabuco was the name of the street where the Hotel Puerto Valparaiso was located, and was where you could find the lovely Liszett

After, I wandered over to Plaza de Mayo, where I found a nice spot in the shade and tried to finish off my book of Neruda poetry. I haven't made much progress, given the amount of time I've been traveling. I suppose that I haven't had much opportunity to read for much of this trip.

Most of today's activities consisted of sucking down Gatorade, sitting around, eating, and shopping - the shopping was done mostly for the A/C! I was a little surprised today, because even at 1 PM, it wasn't oppressively hot. Back to the hostel to enjoy some more A/C and free internet. Robert ended up sitting next to me, and asked for help checking his email. OMG!!!

It was rather comical if you weren't me, because if you were me, it was torturous and painful. I kid you not, when Robert tried entering the website name, I was asked "Where's the 'H'?", then "Where's the 'O'?", then "Where's the 'T'?", and on and on until he finally spelled Hotmail. The worst part for him was that it was an old keyboard, so many of the letters were rubbed off of the keys. I suggested that he find a computer with a newer keyboard, perhaps one that wasn't next to me, but he said he'd just stay.

Honestly, I could've just logged him in within 30 seconds, but then some other poor sap would only get sucked into it like I was, so I tried to let him do as much as he could himself. I understand that he's never really used a computer before, but it took him 15 minutes just to get to the Hotmail page, and enter his user name and password! But of course, he entered the wrong password, so he had to go through the entire process again. All in all, it took him 30 minutes to find out that he had exactly ZERO emails. Sigh ...

During this whole episode, the guy across from me was smirking - I guess it was karma, because I was quite amused the other night watching some guy trying to help Robert out. I was incredibly frustrated with the whole thing but felt bad, because he's a genuinely nice guy, though incredibly annoying at times. I wondered how he was managing traveling on his own. Trusting, nice, naive ... it's only a matter of time before he gets scammed in South America, if it hasn't already happened. Needing to escape, I went in search of lunch at El Palacio de Pizza.

I'd still been feeling run down all day, but was starting to feel a little better after lunch and the OJ. I did some more shopping, not so much because I needed anything, but more because I wanted to stay out of the heat. I popped into the Zara, hoping it would be like the ones in Spain, but it wasn't Beautiful, nicely-dressed Spanish women assisting other beautiful, nicely-dressed Spanish women - they should really start charging an admission fee to see that! I'd pay hundreds of dollars for that privilege!

They had some great deals on jeans, but I didn't realize they were all skinny jeans until I tried them on - in most cases, they didn't get any higher than my calves before getting stuck. The odd pair that actually made it past my calves, I only tried on just to laugh at how they looked on me - ridiculous! I'll never understand why guys wear skinny jeans - not only are they incredibly uncomfortable and only look good on women, but they will likely compromise your ability to have children in the future!

I was feeling very fatigued, mostly due to the dehydration from yesterday, but possibly partially due to poor circulation after trying on all those skinny jeans, so I hid out in Galerias Pacifico, drinking another big bottle of Gatorade. It was green apple-flavoured, and quite nice - it almost tasted natural, unlike the artificial taste of most Gatorade varieties.

I wandered around the mall a bit, not really shopping, because everything was so expensive here. It was surprising to find the Cultural Centre Borges inside of the mall, a live performance theatre that also had an art exhibit. You wouldn't think a soulless shopping centre would've had anything remotely cultural inside.

I stepped out of the cool, air-conditioned oasis of the mall, and felt a blast of BA's horrid mid-day heat - I immediately turned around and went back inside. I grabbed la merienda, what Argentineans call their afternoon snack, at La Brioche Doree, a big French patisserie chain. I stuck around a while, enjoying the air conditioning, and finally finished off the Neruda book - it took until the last day, but I finally did it! It's not that I didn't enjoy it, it's just that I never got around to it. I'll have to read it again when I get home, this time ignoring the horrid English translations.

It's quite disappointing, because now that I've finally got my Spanish back to a decent level, I'm leaving South America. I guess that's a bit of a problem when traveling with others - I never sought out opportunities to speak Spanish, because I didn't need to. It's a shame really, because with a little more time here, I probably could've made a real breakthrough and taken my Spanish to a higher level. Oh well, just another excuse to return to Spain this summer

Having more time to kill before my flight, I went in search of an internet cafe - I preferred paying for the internet, rather than going back for the free internet at the hostel, and risk having to give Robert another computer tutorial. It's for his own safety - if I had to deal with that again, I'd probably snap and strangle him with the mouse cord! The place I found was a bit more expensive than others, but it had one huge selling point - A/C!

I returned to the hostel to get my bag, and walked over to the Manuel Tienda Leon terminal to catch a shuttle to the airport. It was a pretty hot walk, which probably was a bad idea, given how run down and dehydrated I have been these past two days. But I felt like I needed to do some physical activity, since I had been so lazy today.

I arrived around 19:00 and could've really used another Gatorade, but the terminal's cafe had just closed. It's funny that they don't even have a vending machine around, since you'd figure it'd be a great money maker, with the number of people they shuttle to the airports.

On the ride over, I reviewed and re-sized the photos I took the past few days, and realized that I hadn't done much of anything. There's been a lot of wheel spinning on this trip, with much of it due to poor planning on my part. They say Rosario is a nice city, and I could have seen it had I organized the last week of the trip differently. It's been a great trip, but I was left strangely unfulfilled by the whole experience ... I think it's mostly due to the tour. I guess it's just not my type of thing, and felt that there was absolutely no value in it.

Ezeiza airport - I realized where all of BA's beautiful women had gone, they were all working here! It seemed like every airport counter was staffed by Argentinean models. I checked in, admired the views, and went to pay my departure fee.

The gouging at this airport is unbelievable - a bit bottle of Gatorade in central BA cost about $1.35 CAD, but here, it was over $5 CAD! Given the relative prices for food, that's like paying $10 for a Gatorade in Canada. I had enough time to grab a meal before coming to the airport, but decided to wait, since I'd have lots of time to kill before the flight. I regretted that, because I expected a reasonable amount of gouging, but nothing of this ridiculous level! Many of the restaurants were offering a crappy steak sandwich for the same price I paid last night for an excellent ribeye steak.

After a day of doing nothing but relaxing and hydrating, I was starting to feel a bit better. After going through security, I bought a big bottle of water to take on board with me, but was instructed to throw it out. This was interesting, because every other airport I have been to allows water on board if it's purchased after the security checkpoint.

The on board dinner was a crappy beef stew made with frozen vegetables, and served with rice. The greens in the salad looked suspect, so I only ate the chunks of cheese on top. The chocolate mousse wasn't good, but edible. They had a great entertainment selection on board, with a choice of probably a few dozen movies and TV shows, and a bunch of video games. I watched Vicky Cristina Barcelona, hoping there would be tons of Spanish hotties, but there weren't Oh well, it was still nice to see the city of Barcelona again! I managed to sneak a few hours of sleep in before landing in Dallas.

It was 3 degrees C when we landed, and a blast of cold air chilled me to the bone as I stepped out of the plane into the walkway. If I find 3 degrees cold, how will it be when I return to Calgary and its -25 degree weather??? I am NOT looking forward to that!

I had 4.5 hours to kill in the airport, so I wandered around, did some reading, some shopping, and used one of their free internet terminals. B&H and I had a pretty bad meal here on our way down to Santiago, because we had walked almost the entire length of the terminal and found nothing decent. If only we had walked just a bit further, we would have found a pretty good selection of places, including Einstein Brothers, an American bagel-shop chain.

I had never heard of them until recently, when I had seen some wall postings on Facebook between Diane and Hannah (from La Serena), that had made references to it. Feeling full at the time, I thought nothing of it, but later on, I found out that our flight offered no meal. It was a four hour flight, that takes place right over the lunch hour - how could they not give you something to eat? I was glad that I checked, and I hauled ass over to Einstein Brothers to grab something, just five minutes before boarding began.

I lucked out and the emergency exit aisle was empty, so I stretched out and relaxed the whole way home. I'll definitely be back to South America, and have plans to return to both Chile and Argentina. It sounds like the distant parts are the most enjoyable, and I wasn't able to get to any of them because I had to be in certain places at certain times. Patagonia, the Argentinean lakes district, the salt flats ... I missed out on so much!

The problem is that you need too much time to thoroughly explore both countries. With such large distances, it's just not feasible to cover a lot of ground in a short amount of time. I'll have to think about it some more, but I'm pretty sure my next South American trip will include other more adventurous countries, but I'll still sprinkle in a few bits of Chile and Argentina.

I had expected more out of Santiago, and even more out of BA - I guess that's the problem with expectations, because neither of them lived up to them. They could both be nice places to live if you made decent money, but as far as tourists go, I thought they were both only OK.

But of course, the biggest disappointment was the lack of female Spanish tourists. Where were they??!??!? How come it took me almost a month of traveling before meeting even one? I cannot answer these questions ... perhaps they can only be answered by some higher power ...

It wasn't long before we were approaching Calgary - I'm used to flying in over the north and seeing my neighbourhood, since I'm usually flying back from London. It was neat to fly in over the south, for once. All that snow, and cold ... it made me want to cry! And even worse, I wasn't even made to feel welcome when I returned - I'm used to getting grilled by customs agents from other countries, but I'm unaccustomed to getting grilled by my own!

And so ends another journey - if the current economic situation continues, this will likely be the last one for quite some time ... sigh ... there is always a song that forever reminds me of a particular trip, and in this case, there are actually two. If there really will be no return to Spain this summer, then at least I still have the songs I have grown to love over the past few years of traveling. I can just flip on my iPod any time those feelings of claustrophobia and wanderlust take hold - it's amazing how something as simple as a song can evoke memories that are as vivid as the day they were mentally recorded. In an instant, it can take you back to a certain moment, a certain place, a certain feeling ...

The first song of this trip is one perfect for those long, introspective bus rides through the Chilean dessert - the ideal soundtrack for the kind of soul-searching one does while gazing out at a desolate landscape. Melancholy lyrics, haunting melodies ... the song arouses a sense of longing, a sense of endless searching ... it's beautiful, and I love it. Even without listening to the lyrics, the emotion in the lead singer's voice and the music are powerful enough to stir feelings in anybody.

The second song is about losing sight of yourself, and living a life you never wanted. In some ways, I felt a little trapped by the GAP tour, and thought that this type of activity was not me in any way, shape, or form. The themes and words of this song go far deeper than something as trivial as an organized tour, but I still identified with the lyrics.

I'll keep hope that I will be in Spain this summer and if not, that sucks, but I'll deal with it. It'll just make it extra special the next time I am able to wander around the globe

"Cold Desert" by Kings of Leon

I'm on the corner, waiting for a light to come on That's when I know that you're alone It's cold in the desert, water never sees the ground Special unspoken without sound

You told me you loved me, that I'd never die alone Hand over your heart, let's go home Everyone noticed, everyone has seen the signs I've always been known to cross lines

I've never ever cried when I was feeling down I've always been scared of the sound Jesus don't love me, no one ever carried my load I'm too young to feel this old

Is it you, is it me Or does nobody know, nobody see Nobody but me

"Let me be myself" by 3 Doors Down

I guess I just got lost, Being someone else, I tried to kill the pain, But nothing ever helps, I left myself behind, Somewhere along the way, Hoping to come back around to find myself someday.

But lately I'm so tired of waiting for you, To say that it's okay, Tell me please, Would you one time, Let me be myself so I can shine, With my own light, And let me be myself. Would you let me be myself?

Cause I'll never find my heart, Behind someone else, I'll never see the light of day, Living in this cell, It's time to make my way, Into the world I knew, And then take back all these times that I gave into you.

But lately I'm so tired of waiting for you, To say that it's okay, And tell me please, Would you one time, Let me be myself so I can shine, With my own light, And let me be myself for awhile, If you don't mind, Let me be myself so I can shine, With my own light, And let me be myself.

That's all I've ever wanted from this world, Is to let me be me. Please, would you one time, Let me be myself so I can shine, With my own light, Let me be myself.

Please, would you one time, Let me be myself so I can shine, With my own light, And let me be myself for awhile, If you don't mind, Let me be myself so I can shine, With my own light, And let me be myself, Would you one time, Oooh, let me be myself, Let me be me

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I ended up sleeping in until about 9:30, since I had trouble sleeping last night. I had breakfast with Robert, the annoying American guy I met yesterday. He's actually quite nice, but is overly-chatty, with an overpowering type of personality. I think he may also have ADD, because he's all over the place with his conversation.

Off to La Boca - the metro line doesn't run that far, so I took it to near the end of line and walked the remaining 20 minutes or so. Some nice old guy noticed me looking at the map on the metro and commented "You can probably get a new map somewhere, you know?" when he saw how shredded mine was. He started talking about how he had recently befriended someone from Canada, but had no idea where they were from in Canada. Anyway, he was a nice old guy, and now that I've been traveling on my own for a little while, I'm once again becoming comfortable with my Spanish.

Walking over to La Boca - what gives with these friggin' sidewalk tiles? I stepped on one, and mud sprayed all over my legs, just like in Mendoza! Honestly, it's just weird! There was a pretty nice park on the way to La Boca, but I didn't see much of it, as I was just there to wash the mud off of my legs.

The first stop was the stadium for the Boca Juniors - Maradona is a god here! I didn't stay long at the stadium, as I didn't bother doing the tour, and noticed Robert was there with a few others from the hostel. La Boca is working-class BA, and is supposed to be a more authentic neighbourhood - but not in El Caminito!

It's where all the souvenir shops and tango shows are found - a neat place to walk, but far from authentic. There were a number of restaurants to choose from for lunch, but I choose mine based on which restaurant had the most beautiful tango dancer - a great strategy!

The best part of the meal was the tango show - or more accurately, the best part of the show was Ileana, the stunning female dancer! She had that perfect combination of girl-next-door cute and stunning hottie that is so common in Spain. I think they were married - all I can say is Hector is a VERY lucky man! The dancing was actually also quite good, though not as acrobatic as what we saw at Tango Complejo as part of the GAP tour.

It was a long, hot walk back through San Telmo - I tried looking for the store where Ranjit bought his Maradona "Hand of God" t-shirt, but couldn't find it. D'oh! Had it now been another scorcher, I would have wandered around until I found it, because I remembered that it was just off the main street.

Back to the hostel for a siesta, where the weirdest thing happened to me -I'd been feeling dehydrated and wrecked all day long. When I got back to the dorm, I ended up having this full-body cramp - stomach, chest, quads ... the only thing I could do was lie down and cool off, until they went away. Bizarre ... I sucked down some water and lay around, doing absolutely nothing, for a bit.

I noticed that the dorm room has odd electrical plug-ins, not the European-style ones found in Chile and other parts of Argentina. I think they're the Aussie-style ones, and you need to borrow an adaptor from the front desk unless you happen to have Aussie appliances. Come to think of it, the Hotel Waldorf in BA had the Euro-style plug-ins, so maybe it's only this hostel that's odd?

The Dutch guy staying in my room absolutely REEKS - he's wearing the same clothes as yesterday, and his towel is absolutely disgusting. Even when he's not in the room, his towel is hanging off of his bed and is giving off a putrid odour. I'm not exactly sure why his towel might stink, because he smells like he hasn't showered in about a week or so!

Back to Palermo for dinner - I saw an intriguing restaurant near the main plaza the last time I was here. I have almost no cash left, but I couldn't find an ATM anywhere in Palermo, even though I had walked 8-9 blocks to the plaza. Very strange, considering that it's a big cafe/bar/restaurant/shopping neighbourhood. A waiter pointed me to the nearest ATM, which ended up being at a service station four blocks away from Palermo's main street.

I arrived to find that the ATM had no cash - this shouldn't have been all that surprising, given that it's the only ATM around for blocks! It ended up being a comedy of errors - getting to the service station required crossing the train tracks, and of course I got stuck waiting a while for it to pass, and got dirt blown up in my face as I waited.

I started walking along the train tracks, hoping to find another ATM, but with no luck. By this point, I had wandered quite aways from the restaurant, and decided to look for another place to eat. Had I known that finding an ATM was going to be such a fiasco, I would've just put my meal on credit card and paid whatever extra the restaurant would've charged me for doing so. The whole thing ended up taking 30 minutes, and I still had no cash in hand!

I came across a Southeast Asian restaurant recommended by the guidebook - the menu didn't look too inspiring, so I crossed the street to Soberbia, a rather upscale-looking restaurant. I was so wiped out that I didn't care at that moment, but as I sat down, I wondered if it was a mistake - it was just after 9 PM, the start of dinner hour in BA, but the place was completely empty. Hmmm ...

Luckily, the meal was great and after, I was absolutely stuffed, unable to finish even half of the spinach - there would definitely be no dessert tonight! And the damage? Something like $14 CAD, including a glass of wine, bottle of water, tax, and tip! This would've been $65 CAD back home, easily. It was a nice night to sit outside ... my last full night of the trip ... sigh ...

I ended up catching the last metro of the night - the cashier was already closing up, so they just waved me on through. Normally, I would've just walked, but my body obviously wasn't complying tonight, and I didn't want a repeat of that earlier full-body cramp. I was actually quite surprised that I walked around looking for an ATM for 30 minutes, without having any additional problems.

Back to the hostel, for some free internet before bed - they installed a bunch of extra computers today, so the wait is no longer as bad. Robert was annoying some other users - I don't think he's ever used a computer before, because he didn't seem to have the slightest clue of how to check his email. I'm guessing somebody back home set it up for him, because there was no way he could have done it himself. He kept asking this one guy "Where's the 'H' key? Where's the 'O' key?", and things of that nature. I'm just glad that it wasn't me sitting next to him, because I have absolutely no patience for stuff like that!

Back in the room, there was an Argentinean lady from Mendoza - it sounds like there was tons to do around Mendoza that I missed out on. She was a nice lady but we didn't chat for long, since she had an early ferry to catch and I was so wrecked.

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Breakie with the Spaniard staying at the hostel, as we were both up early to catch a flight back to BA. It's a funny thing - my mind kept wandering and at times, I understood nothing that he said to me. They served some delicious watermelon for breakfast, but there was no cake, which was just as well - the first day, it was chocolate and wasn't bad, but the second day it was some kind of cake sprinkled with crawling ants. Mmm mmm ... crunchier than candy sprinkles!

I settled up my bar tab with the hostel - three small beers and two 1 L bottles only came out to 32 pesos, about $11 CAD. It doesn't get much cheaper than that! Shortly after, a shuttle came to pick us up, and after a few minutes of driving, a Scottish guy asked us "Does this go to the airport?" The Spaniard and I looked at each other in a slight moment of panic, and both commented that we were positive it was headed there, until he posed the question!

The flight was uneventful and the next thing you knew, we were back in BA. The Scottish dude, whose name I have forgotten, is an accountant working for the government in London. He and I ended up on the same shuttle back to central BA. We were told that the shuttle lets off at Plaza San Martin, but they drove past it without stopping, and ended up at their private bus terminal.

We sat there for a while, but nobody said anything and nobody got off, so we figured that they would loop back and drop us off at the plaza. When boarding the shuttle, they checked our tickets and asked where we were getting off, so they knew exactly where we were going. They even scanned our tickets upon arrival at the terminal, but said nothing to us.

More people got on and then we were headed way past the port - something wasn't right! I asked the driver and it turns out that we should have gotten off at the terminal, after all. They really should work on their communication at Manuel Tienda Leon, the shuttle company - you guys suck!

The Scottish dude was headed to San Telmo, so he didn't mind, because the shuttle ended up taking him much closer to his final destination. But for me - I ended up about twice the distance away from my hostel, than had I gotten off at the bus terminal. What should have been a 10-15 minute walk ended up being almost 25. I haven't been having much luck with buses and shuttles on this trip, have I?

I checked back into Hostel Florida, ending back up in the same room I had the first time I was here. There was a nice, but very annoying, older American guy there - I made some small talk for a bit but then snuck away. Back to the Galerias Pacifico food court - though it was close to 15:00, it was still packed with people. I guess it's the normal BA lunch hour. They've got a fairly decent selection of fast food joints, most of them being BBQ places - Las Brasitas looked good, so I grabbed a chicken sandwich.

Off to Recoleta, and its famous cemetery, one of the most popular attractions in BA. On my way in, there was a guy selling little religious cards to make some money - he wasn't the arrogant prick type of panhandler that I've encountered more often than I would have liked so far in Chile and Argentina, so I took pity. However, I didn't give him any money, as you never know if that will go to food or alcohol, but instead gave a granola bar, which he graciously accepted.

I've visited some pretty nice cemeteries before, like the Pere Lechaise in Paris and the Aereslunden in Oslo - while all of them are different but stunning in their own way, the one in Recoleta is by far the most impressive. I hope the pictures turn out, because it was an amazing collection of mausoleums and sculptures, and many of them were worthy of being displayed in some of the top museums in the world.

Over to the Museum of Fine Arts - it was getting hot in BA, once again, so I needed to stop in Plaza Francia to chug some water and cram down a granola bar, before I passed out. The museum wasn't bad, but I was so exhausted from the heat that I started to tune out much of it. The highlights were a copy of "The Kiss", one of my favourite pieces by Rodin (of course, I have about 10 favourite Rodin pieces), and some neat glass "paintings" by Jacques Bedel.

It was a bit strange - Bedel's works were modern works and I appreciated them more than most of the classic works on display. Usually it's the opposite for me, as most modern art just seems to be a random assortment of crap that somebody collected from a landfill.

I was pretty exhausted by the time I reached the top floor, but my interest was reawakened with an interesting photo exhibit - many important events in BA's history were on display. The sculpture terrace outside was pretty disappointing - it was tiny, with only five or six crappy pieces of sculpture on display.

The final stop for today was in nearby Palermo, the Museo de Arte Latinoamericano de Buenos Aires, or MALBA, for short. I had only 40 minutes to tour it, but with my attention span waning, it was more than enough. Overall, there wasn't much of interest, except for a few pieces like Antonio Berni's "La Gran Tentacion" (The Great Temptation). One of the more bizarre works was basically a bunch of hydroponically-grown plants ... perhaps the artist found all this stuff at a landfill?

I wasn't all that excited to visit MALBA, since I knew of its reputation for showcasing contemporary art - but I had another reason for visiting, and that's the cafe inside the museum. It was highly rated by the same food critic whose advice we took when deciding to go to Tomo I in BA, and Puerto Fuy in Santiago. If it was anything like those two, it would be an incredible experience, and perhaps there would even be a hostess as lovely as Puerto Fuy's Andrea

The cafe wasn't serving dinner yet even though it was 20:00, so I nursed a mediocre glass of chardonnay for 30 minutes, until the kitchen finally opened. Though it was a hot and muggy day, it was quite pleasant out on the shaded patio. Chilling on the patio, I could see the appeal of living in a neighbourhood like Recoleta or Palermo.

I haven't found BA to be that great of a tourist town, but it would be a great place to live if you had a good enough job to afford a neighbourhood like this. Or even better, to be sent here on a temporary assignment, and live large on North American wages. Top-end restaurants, beautiful parks, beautiful women ... though I suppose, I've only been teased with the promise of beautiful women, as most of them seem to be away on vacation.

As I scanned the menu, I wondered about my budget for the trip - I was certain that I was WAY over, but didn't know by exactly how much. Since I was nearing the end of the trip, I said "Budget be damned!" and ordered what I felt like. Saving a few bucks during my last couple of nights in BA wouldn't amount to any real savings, so instead of merely exceeding my budget, I might as well annihilate it!

It was a long walk back to the hostel, about 65-70 minutes - I walked pretty slowly as I was feeling pretty worn out. It was breezy and cool in some areas, but hot and stuffy in others. Back to central BA, past the high-end shops of Boulevard Alvear, and past a number of parks. I saw a bunch of locals playing in a pick-up soccer game. My guidebook warned not to join a game, unless you were VERY confident in your soccer skills.

It was pretty eventful as I got closer to the hostel, coming across an accident between a motorbike and a car, and two arrests. Back at the hostel, I noticed an ad for a day trip to Mar del Plata, for a soccer game between the junior squads of Boca and another team. 390 pesos for transportation and the game ... unfortunately, it's scheduled for the day I leave, and I doubt that I'd get back in time for my flight home. If only I had the time ...

There were a bunch of Brazilians hanging out in my room - nice guys, but I was glad when they left, so that I could finally get some sleep.

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I slept in until 9 AM, until the bug bites became so itchy that I woke up. Coming here without bug spray was a definite mistake - I supposed I could have bought some after I started getting all these bug bites, but it would be pointless. I already have 20-30 bites on my lower legs alone; what's another 10 or 20 of them going to do? I don't even bother applying calamine lotion to the individual bites - I simply slather it all over my legs and arms because it's faster, because it would take too long to dab a little bit on so many bites.

Breakfast with Joris - when I told him that I was doing a canopy tour today, simply because I had nothing else to do, he laughed "That's so Canadian - non-stop travel, never stopping to rest!" This made me remember those famous Molson's commercials with Joe Canadian - I AM CANADIAN!!! For those who have never seen the commercial: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mcTxNBnLF30&feature=PlayList&p=AF9364448D97ADFD&playnext=1&index=2

Joris definitely has a point, but I'd go crazy just sitting around all day long, doing nothing. The tour didn't depart until 14:00, so I killed a few hours at the internet cafe, blogging and surfing. Shaun, the California guy who entertained us last night with his pronunciation of floedebolle, was having a quick lunch before leaving for Paraguay. He's just finished his master's degree in math, and is taking a break before deciding if he will start working or continue with his Ph. D. His trip is 8 months in total, with two in South America, and the rest in Asia and Eastern Europe.

Off to the tour - a taxi was sent for me, and as I approached the car, I caught a glimpse of a very cute brunette in the back seat ... Spanish, perhaps? It ended up being a mother and daughter, and my eyes lit-up when they told me they were from the Canary Islands! Finally - there ARE Spanish women in Argentina!!! At that moment, I was overjoyed that I didn't sit around doing nothing all day, and instead went on this tour ... I'm always looking for opportunities to practice my Spanish, after all!

The pair are from Candelaria in Tenerife, the last Canary Island that I visited last winter. The lovely Nora has been living in the UK for about year, working and studying English - I am happy to say that her English hadn't improved to the point where she lost her ultra-cute Spanish accent She's now returning to the Canary Islands to find work, and if none is available, she may have to move to mainland Spain. I don't know what she will do if nothing is available there.

I decided that upon returning to Canada, I will petition the Canadian government to create a program to promote an international work exchange with Spain. Spanish women must be given the opportunity to earn a living! I volunteer to move to Spain to interview the hotties ... uh ... I mean ... potential wives ... uh ... potential employees, to determine their suitability for employment in Canada.

Not one to do such things half-assed, they would be exhaustive interviews, involving real-world social situations, such as long walks on a moonlit beach, or perhaps romantic candle-lit dinners with string quartets playing in the background. Of course, this would only be to ensure that Canada admitted the most beautiful ... uh ... I mean ... most qualified, Spanish women. I only volunteer my time to serve my country - I AM CANADIAN, after all!

The taxi dropped us off at the start of the canopy tour, which started with a short hike through the jungle, with explanations of the local flora and fauna, and demonstrations of traps employed by the Guarani. The Guarani are a South American indigenous people that are spread over parts of Argentina, Bolivia, Brazil, Paraguay, and Uruguay.

The zip lines were still a short hike away - I really regretted not wearing my quick-dry shirt, as my t-shirt was soaked with sweat. I was getting quite dehydrated from the heat, but it was mostly due to me drooling over Nora There wasn't much to the canopy tour - the first part was a scramble up a rock face.

From there, we took the first zip line, then climbed a ladder to the second, and final zip line. It was alright, but nothing special - the one Tam and I did in Honduras was definitely better (see blog entry entitled " Why would you need to wear sunscreen in the disco?" http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pwong/cruise_2006/1198784400/tpod.html) But today's canopy tour was still enjoyable, as there was a Spanish hottie amongst us

The rappelling was the most difficult, but best part - it looks so easy when it's done in the movies, where they drop 10 feet at a time. It's definitely not as easy as that for a beginner! The guides kept giving me instructions in Spanish because they knew I spoke it - but the problem was that I wasn't understanding much of it, as I was too busy concentrating on what I was doing.

The final part of the tour was a boat ride down the Iguazu river, to where it intersects with the Parana river. What was the significance of this point? It's a point where you are technically in three different countries at the same time - Argentina, Brazil, and Paraguay.

This was the end of the tour, and our taxi took us back into town. So funny ... it's true what all my friends say - I should just move to Spain, because the simple act of even meeting a Spanish senorita makes me so happy! Or as Ben would say, giddy like a schoolgirl (see blog entry entitled "Giddy like a schoolgirl" http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/pwong/canaries-2007/1198710660/tpod.html)

As usual, I got nowhere - but I must say like I've said in the past, if I'm going to get turned down, I don't mind if it's done in Spanish, or with a Spanish accent. In English I was told, with a giggle, and with that makes-you-weak-in-the-knees-and-makes-you-melt-like-butter-in-the-hot-Spanish-summer-sun accent, "Oh! I think we are very tired this evening!" Ooh ... if I wasn't already sitting, I would've swooned and cracked my skull open on the sidewalk! I told Nora that if she wasn't tired later on, I was staying at the Timbo Posada. Ahh ... Spanish hotties ... you really must meet them to see what all the fuss is about ...

Back to the hostel for a shower, some chillin', some journal writing, and some yogurt for a snack. Joris and the Danish girls were going to a tango show tonight and asked if I wanted to tag along. Even though I'd already seen one in BA, and was hesitant because it was a bad experience in some ways, I figured why the heck not? Though a small part of me wanted to stay behind in the off chance that Nora would show up, and sweep me off my feet ...

A Norwegian couple from Oslo, Lisa and Inar (I hope I'm spelling that correctly), joined us. Even though they have a common origin, Norwegian and Danish are supposedly quite different, making communication between the two languages extremely difficult. But these two had no issues chatting with Camilla and Natascha. Our tango show never happened - it turned out it was only tango music, this evening.

Joris commented "At first, the tango music was a selling point, but now it's a leaving point", referring to how the tango music had gone techno, and was being blasted loudly, drowning out any conversation, despite us asking a couple of times for it to be turned down.

Joris is from Amsterdam, and we chatted about how great his city was, and the common misconceptions that many people have about it. He once told some foreigners that he didn't do any drugs, and was met with disbelief - "You don't do drugs??? But it's SO available there!" That's the beauty of Amsterdam - the choice exists, and there is a certain degree of tolerance found there.

Lisa had a moment of panic, telling Joris and I "Oops! Are we interrupting a double date?" I explained that both girls had boyfriends, and were quite young. Joris quipped "I WISH it was a double date!" Ahh ... good times, good times! We left as soon as we were done eating, as it was too hot and too loud to be sitting there. Only one thing would cool us down - gelato!!!

The Danish girls had earlier raved about one particular gelato shop - it did not disappoint. We all ended up getting huge, 1/4 kg containers, packed full of gelato. Floedebolle is officially my new favourite word - I can't even remember what we said, but many floedebolle jokes were made. Apparently, they come with every serving of ice cream in Norway. I'm sorry - it may be a funny word, but it sounds so ugly! I think the only way to make it sound beautiful would be to have a beautiful Spanish senorita say it. Where's Nora when you need her?

Back to the hostel for a quick beer - last night, there was a big BBQ, and now there was a big empanada party. Talk about fast friends! South American culture is so different from North American culture - though hardly any of these people knew each other before coming here, and though from all over (mostly Argentina, but also Spain, Germany, and probably a few other countries), they've become fast friends.

Though I didn't get into bed until well after midnight, they were only starting to eat the empanadas when I returned to my room. I'm used to eating late while in Spain, but I haven't really gotten accustomed to doing it here. Perhaps it's because with so many lovely ladies in Spain to distract me, I never realize when I'm hungry!

Joris came in to say goodbye, and told me that Camilla and Natascha also wanted to do the same. It's been great hanging out with them, as they are genuinely good people. It made me think of an earlie conversation that he and I had. Joris had commented how great the Argentinean guests at the hostel were - on more than one occasion, they've offered up food to him, never wanting anything in return. He seemed quite surprised by the whole thing, but I wasn't - I'm sure a lot of it was cultural, but in general, I've liked doing the whole hostel thing over the years because there seems to be a bit of an unwritten backpacker code. It's a great thing, because it makes you feel like you're part of something bigger, and like there's already a bond established, before even getting to know anyone.

It's the reason why I'll always stop and offer help if I see somebody wearing a massive backpack, staring at a map with a look of bewilderment on their face. It's the reason why I'll give a lost person my map, if I have a reasonable idea of where I'm going. Maybe it's a bit of that whole pay-it-forward idea - when you travel, you'll eventually find yourself in a situation where you need some sort of assistance. It seems like fellow backpackers are always willing to help you out, so when the opportunity presents itself to help another, you'll do the same.

Staying in hostels has never been about the money, per se, though I feel that it's just a place to crash for the night, so why pay extra for a hotel when I don't need it? Plus, anything I save on accommodations might well be blown on a nice meal. But really, it's more about being a part of the backpacker subculture and about the experience.

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One of the guys in dorm room was the first Spanish person I have encountered on this trip - I need more of this, but it needs to be of the female persuasion! I wandered over to the Brazilian embassy to see how much a visa would cost - I am hoping to see the Argentinean side of Iguazu today, and the Brazilian side tomorrow. But the cost was $65 USD - way too much to pay to be in Brazil for only a few hours!

They say that the Brazilian side of Iguazu isn't as nice as the Argentinean side, so I won't be missing out - I had hoped to get a Brazilian stamp in my passport, but I guess that'll have to wait until I one day visit Brazil for an extended period of time.

The Danish girls and Joris, as well as a few others from the hostel were supposed to be going for the early bus as well, but only Simon made it on board. We waited a bit for them at the entrance to the park, but they still didn't arrive on the next bus, only a group of Argentineans from the hostel. It costs foreigners about $20 CAD to enter the park, but only about $7 CAD for a local. Here's a tip - get an Argentinean to buy your ticket for you, and get you the lower price.

Simon and the Argentineans decided to do a full-blown tour of the falls, but I only wanted to do the boat ride, so I set off on my own. I went to the upper falls and ate part of my picnic lunch. The falls were impressive from there, but perhaps a bit over-rated, based on what I have so far heard from fellow travelers. The lower falls also offered some nice views, and were an improvement because you got closer to the falls.

Without a doubt, the best part was the boat ride, which made the trip up here worthwhile. You don't actually go under the falls, and you even get that close to them. But the force of the water splashing down is quite impressive, and made it tough to breathe, between the water hitting your face, and the chill causing you to take only short, shallow breaths. This was the perfect thing to do as the peak afternoon temperatures were reached! Next was the train ride up to Garganta del Diablo - the Devil's throat. The ride wasn't very scenic, but the the views at the top were pretty awesome, showcasing the magnitude of the falls.

There was one final thing visitors could do at the park - a 2.5 hour hike through the foliage, with an opportunity to swim at a waterfall along the way. Now that it was the hot, hot afternoon - no thanks! Back to the hostel for a siesta in one of the hammocks. I'm not normally a fan of lounging around when I travel, but it can be quite an enjoyable experience if Sabrina is also lounging around

I ended up having a pretty deep conversation with Mattias - it's funny how sometimes while traveling, you end up talking about very personal issues with people you barely even know. I guess he had met some American girl who was traveling through Buenos Aires, and was having trouble emailing her in English, so he asked if I could help him out. He basically asked me to tell her to meet at a certain day, and that he would explain everything in person, because it was "complicated".

He's a young guy, so he wants to do more traveling and partying, but is finding it difficult because has a girlfriend. I told him it was important to see the world when he was young, because those opportunities may never arise again, if not seized right now. I've always wondered how my life would've turned out had I taken a year off to see the world, when I was younger - not that I'm complaining now, because life has been pretty great the past few years. But there's a part of me that will always think I missed out on something. Anyway, I also said to Mattias that if he had an incredible girl who he loved very much, he may never find that again if he lets her go. Such are the dilemmas of life ... It's always good practice chatting with him, because his English is quite limited, forcing me to extend my Spanish vocabulary. I suggested he come to Canada to become a ski bum working at a resort, because it'd traveling, partying, and learning English, all rolled up into one! I normally need to completely concentrate when speaking Spanish, otherwise I lose track of the conversation or have trouble understanding. I was quite proud of myself today, because I was able to focus on the conversation even though I was completely distracted - but it was a very a nice distraction named Sabrina, who happened to be lounging by the pool ...

I asked one of the hostel workers for a restaurant recommendation, and he suggested a nearby street that had plenty of options. None of them were as cheap as the worker had made them seem, so I settled on a $10 CAD set menu, quite inexpensive by Canadian standards. But unfortunately, you get what you pay for ...

Back to the hostel - a guy from California who I had briefly chatted with earlier in the day, was getting a language lesson from the Danish girls. He was doing extremely well, even surprising the girls with his pronunciation. The funny thing is that though he was pronouncing things correctly, we were all laughing our asses of when he was saying "floedebolle". I think it's pronounced "FLOO-da-BOOL-en", and is some type of chocolate candy. Who knows - maybe it wasn't even the pronunciation that made it funny, maybe it was the beer!

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