Buenos Aires!

So no sooner had I swore a blood fued of vengence against the bus station ticket sellers, and the pass opened up. If they knew what I said about them a thousand apologies wouldn´t be enough. Trying to find the right bus I was reminded about how different the Spainish is down here, (again...) I handed my ticket to some obvious bus looking dude and he says ¨Boo Feeny¨I said huh? I´m thinking this guy doesn´t understand, my name is Paul. He keeps saying boo feeny, boo feeny. Finally I figure out he means ¨Bus Fenix¨Why didn´t he just say that in the first place? Instead he drops the last syllable of each word. I boarded the Boo Feeny, off I went. It was actually pretty comfortable boo feeny, I mean for a boo feeny this thing wasn´t so bad, and I´ve riden so pretty sketchy boo feenies in my day. It was only about a third full and everybody had a window seat and an empty next to them. Here´s a shot going up the pass



With some time to kill, 22 hours to be exact, I pulled a book from the library aka my backpack, aka stupidity when you´re lugging around on your back through South America. I had expected to lightening this load a little quicker.



That bus ride CRAWLED over that mountain pass, stopping to allow oncoming traffic to squeeze through. The distance isn´t really that far, at least to the border with Argentina, but by the time we had cleared customs we had been on the road for 8 hours. After they stamped my passport I realized that I only have 6 pages left out of 20 for visa stamps. I´m so cool.

I did get a good look at the Portillo ski resort. It is literally on the Argentine border and some of the ski runs are groomed right over the tunnels that we traveled under.


Here´s what it looks like from the road going under the chair lift.



Here´s some terrain that had me thinking, ¨Hmmmmm, fresh dry squinchy snow!¨Yummy, my titanium leg aches just thinking about... Laugh it up Portillo, you and I have unfinished business....

The bus was equiped with GPS speed navigation and read out that tells you how fast the bus is going and how long the driver has been driving. I guess the driver isn´t supposed to drive for more then 5 hours straight, which is why it came as no surprise to me that the display said that the driver, Mora Carlos Sanchez had been in the hot seat for 10 hours and 18 minutes. Hmmmm. Heres a blurry shot of the sign.



So I bought a nice cab sav to sip on the trip, and after opening it I was pleasantly surprised. It had delicate hints of lavender and smoke with suttle hints of licorice and cinnamon. The flavors were a little bound up but released well as it propertly decanted. I couldn´t help but thinking how sophisticated and refined I´ve become as I poured some more wine from the box into my plastic cup.

A little while later I was reunited with my little purple friend and it was Zani night night...



They pass out blankets numbered in case you are thinking of stealing one.



The morning we arrived in Buenos Aires about 2 hours late, so I´ve my dream of a 24 hour bus ride in South America, my only wish was that the bus had been more crowed and the guy sitting next to me would have 2 chickens in cage on his lap. Ah well there´s always next time.

Once we landed I did the Famous Gates Sense of Direction Walking Tour, or FGSDWT for short. I´ll save you the details but lets just say involves alot circles and swearing.

Before I left Valpariso I consulted LP and found that Milhouse Hostel was BA´s premier party hostel. When I got there I was a little foggy from sleeping on the bus and I felt 10 years older then I really am, (which would make me about 35.) Milhouse hostel is the equivalent of a Vegas Casino for the backpacker. You never have to leave, they have food booze parties, tours everything. Which was kind of cool, except I was looking for a little more, um adventure i guess would be the right word. It just seems too easy. It all seemed to be going well until I found out that a single room was $47! Thats outrageous! So I went for an $11 a night dorm room, thats my bunk on the bottom left.



I mean I could do this right? Don´t the laws of minimalism specifically state in some subsection of some part that one cannot get squimish about these things? I mean WWFD?

I battled with the idea of three other sausages sleeping on bunk beds about three feet apart and the inevitable snore symphony that most certainly would transpire. On the bright side I could make some beautiful music in there. I wonder if its like when women spend alot of time together would our snores synchronize? I pondered this as I wondered how many times 3 dudes get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and would I wake up each time and how long it would take to get back to sleep.

Then I went downstairs and upgraded to a private room. It was REALLY a nice room. It kind of small so its hard to photograph, but it had a nice modern bathroom as well.



I attempted the LPWT, but between the throb in my leg and navigational abilities it didn´t go so well. I settled for watching Argentina battle Uruguay for the world and drinking cheap beer. Uruguay won and the place was dead quiet. After that I partied late night at the Hostel



and I´m a little wrecked from it today. More on the sights tomorrow, Ciao!