Sam Floy

Interesting posts about start ups, East Africa and fried chicken

Category: Latin America (page 1 of 7)

Finding a Decent Profile Pic

Hagley, England, United Kingdom
Wednesday, March 20, 2013

The second task of the South American sojourn was to Find a Decent Profile Pic, and after many many snaps, I finally found one that I was happy with.

As it happened, it wasn’t the amazing landscape: rainforests, rivers, mountains, glaciers or caves that hit me most, but the people I met.

Staying with Felix and his family was an very humbling experience, and they were just one of the few very kind and interesting groups of people that I met along the journey. That I managed to get a photo without me smiling garishly was also a bonus…

The other photos are a collection of the other potential ones that could’ve taken its place, along with some Outtakes from along the way.

The loss of camera in 7.1 prevents me uploading a richer collection of me sneezing, yawning, scratching my head and generally looking unimpressed in the foreground of what would have been something interesting I am sure. It shouldn’t be too much of a stretch to imagine me photobombing in front of a stunning landscape though I’m sure…

And this therefore concludes the “Finding Myself. And a Decent Profile Pic” blog.

Thank you for your contact and comments whilst I’ve been away.

Finding Myself

Hagley, England, United Kingdom
Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Seeing as four months ago to the day I set off to Find Myself, it only seems right to give a little update on my progress. Don’t worry – nothing too deep..

Meeting hundreds and hundreds of people from diverse backgrounds certainly gives you a new perspective on how to view the world. The way smaller communities operate is a similar set up to what it must have been before the turn of the Industrial Revolution. It was so interesting to be a part of these societies – like being in a Living Museum.

In the really remote villages of Belize, and Peru especially, the upsides were obvious in terms of happiness, and connection with nature. That said, it was also absent of the benefits of sanitation and an open education.

The more you liberate, and open up the world, the more people are able to make decisions for themselves, which in my eyes must be a good thing: (if you were a peasant in feudal times, more or less, you were bound to what the Lord of the Manor decided). Now you have a world where there are suddenly billions more decision makers, who want different and diverse things.

There will naturally be a conflict amongst all of these wants, so a system needs to be established to best satisfy those needs. It is almost always those with little, or no voice who get left behind (women, the environment etc).

The answer can’t be to reduce the amount of free-decision makers there are in the world. That would be a step back to tyranny and the feudal system.

History has shown that the way to progress is to harness self-interest. It might not be good for everyone at first, but it has surely been behind the advancements in medicine, industry, and the potential for everyone to increase their standard of living.

Where self-interest has failed, is in distributing resources equally. I think however that this doesn’t mean we lose faith in humanity, just that there hasn’t been the means for people to easily do so.

For example, most people will agree that they don’t need a car the all the time, but the fact they need it sometimes means that they buy one and own one. With 10 people living on the street, there will be 10 cars. This is a waste, yet who is responsible to ask some families to go without whilst others still have one? The only way is to have people voluntarily give up their cars. In the past, this would have been a logistical nightmare if you wanted to share – someone going around with a clipboard and a timetable trying to work out how/when they could be shared. You are also then constrained to the people living on the street which isn’t very practical.

Now however, services are appearing online that allow this problem to be solved in a much simpler way. It is dependent on people sharing certain pieces of information with a select group, and means that instead of spending thousands on a new car, they can borrow one from time to time (i.e. when you really need it) for much less. Further, if you do have a car, you now have a revenue stream to offset when you aren’t using it.

The ability for everyone in the world to connect with each other gives a much more accessible platform for people to share resources. This means total production of goods can decline, and the benefits of these products can be more equitably distributed.

It is obviously a long way from solving all the world’s problems, and there are certainly pitfalls in people becoming addicted to smartphones etc., but those who lambaste the advancement of technology, and the increased connectedness of people risk cutting off the ability for people to easily share what they have with others around them. Which, from people I have spoken to, is usually the end game of how any society should operate.

So after trying to Find Myself, I will probably look to fit into this emerging trend with how the (developed) world might be going. For me, there’s no need to for excessive ownership of material goods. It is fine to enjoy yourself, and have good experiences, but the answer to everything isn’t blind self-interest. In the same it isn’t an excuse for acting selfishly.

Had I chosen to go to some other continent for my search, who knows how this entry might have read differently…

12.1 and Home

Rio de Janeiro International Airport, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
Monday, March 11, 2013

All my time in Brazil was spent in an airport. This is even more of a travesty than when I only saw the capital city of San Jose in 1.1 (that was a while ago wasn’t it?!).

Last time I was in Brazil was nearly four years ago, though I’m trying to figure out if there are any comparisons that I can make..

1. The buffet food is still the same in that you take a plate and then pay based on the weight of the items you’ve chosen. Cue identifying the best taste:grams ratio amongst the dishes.

2. The airport chairs are still uncomfortable

There were four flights to get from Bs As to Heathrow taking approximately 40 hours door-to-door. The first (and unfortunately shortest) was with Qatar and was well plush. From there it was all a bit downhill, but nothing much that can be done about.

After a delay and missed connection, it was back on home soil a little later than expected, but nonetheless in one piece.

Home comforts were just a two hour car journey away as my journey was complete.

At Heathrow

Last plane

11.8.2 Independiente v Godoy Cruz

Buenos Aires, Argentina
Friday, March 8, 2013

Flares, fencing and fanatics probably sums up my second football game in the Argentinean capital. Whereas 11.8.1 had been organised through a tour agency, this time it was much more rogue.

It all started in 11.3 a few weeks ago when I met Bruno at the top of Mount Fitzroy. On the back of his invitation, I got in touch once I arrived in Bs As, and after finishing work on Friday, he met me underneath the city’s “obelisco”. I think it marks the centre of the capital, and it appears to be the equivalent of Trafalgar Square.

We then took the subway and bus to his apartment out towards the more residential area. Somewhat reminiscent of 6.1 / 6.3, we nipped to “the Chinese” for some snacks and a beer. Back at the flat we generally spoke most things football, and at around 20:30 we headed out towards the Independiente stadium, a short walk away.

I should mention that Bruno is a diehard fan of the Argentinean “Red Devils”. His friend, German (name, not nationality) is equally dedicated in his support. On the way to the ground, the two of them knew all the back-alleys to get there quickly, had people who could open gates to avoid the time-consuming police blocks, and generally were switched on as to how to avoid the crowds.

Outside the stadium the crowd piled up and began chanting, partly for camaraderie, and partly as a gentle reminder to the police that kick off was in five minutes. It was at this stage that I undertook the alias of Felipe Gonzales, a friend of the lads’ who couldn’t make the game. With a well-placed thumb, I flashed “my” card and was through the security.

We walked into a volcano of red fans – erupting in noise and smoke. Our places were amongst the other season ticket holders, so we found a spot standing just behind the goal. The flares were blaring, drums booming, and we needed to duck several times under the streamed banners being stretched the length of the stand.

Soon after the get-go the chants, clapping, and arm thrusting began. Then everyone (well, the guys) took off their shirts and begun whirling them around their heads. Each had at least one ‘Club Atletico Independiente’ tattoo somewhere on their person. This really was the serious end of the club’s support.

The match itself started off pretty evenly, with each side sharing possession and the home team hitting the post. Then Godoy took advantage of a sloppy defensive error to take the lead going into the half-time break. In the second half, Independiente were much more dominant, controlling play and constantly threatening the opposition. Their striker missed a simple header from near the penalty spot, and shared the frustration of the home crowd.

In the dying minutes, a speculative effort from Independiente’s No. 9 beat the keeper and rattled down off the cross bar, the follow up header was too heavy and the chance was gone. Everyone in our stand had their head in their hands. With typical time-wasting from the opponents, it ended up being the last real opportunity of the game.

As the away fans filed out before us, everyone had some time to settle down, and pack up the flags which were hung up along the fencing behind the goal.

By the time we were out, it was near enough midnight, and so naturally it was Argentinean dinner time. Once again, Bruno and German used their local knowledge to navigate through the side streets, and we were soon at a “parrilla” (barbeque) with some hot meat baps and a couple of beers.

Both were very interested to hear about England, and test out their English (I obliged in teaching them some naughty words) and we also spoke in the international language of football; comparing backgrounds of our respective teams. We sampled a few local drinks and carried on chatting until the early hours.

It was then time for me to return the shirt I borrowed for the game, and also Felipe’s card. German and I took the bus back, and I hopped off near my hostel, walking the last couple of blocks.

This was once again an example of the friendliness of Latin American people: after merely sharing some trail mix a few weeks earlier, Bruno had completely sorted me for an enjoyable and authentic evening of football. We left in agreement that I would return the favour next time he is England.

The home fans

Gutted after defeat

Behind the goal

Entering the fray

From Bruno’s flat

Walk back

11.8.1 Boca Juniors vs Unión de Santa Fe

Buenos Aires, Argentina
Monday, March 4, 2013

Almost immediately after checking into the hostel in Buenos Aires, I was out exploring the streets of the surrounding area, San Telmo looking for an Art Factory (“I thought this was about football?”)

Well, the Art Factory in question was the name of a hostel. And in that hostel were a couple of friends from the Inca Trail (9.4.1) who had sorted tickets for the three of us to see Boca Juniors. It was organised through a sort-of tour agency, and was honestly one of the more bizarre ones I’ve had in my time out here.

The price of the ticket was expensive. What happens is Season Ticket Holders who aren’t attending the game will loan out their pass to the agency (though I suspect the organiser is just their mate) who then charges the tourist plenty of money to use it.

The Police must clearly know what’s going on, yet just to be safe, our organiser stressed the importance to not be overt about it.

On the bus we were warned of the petty crime in the area, and so once off it, we were shepherded into a dingy garage on the street corner, along with the other outsiders. Here, the gringos were kept together and helped themselves to a few hot dogs (or “choripans”: sausage in bread) and a beer.

We were then instructed that it was nearly time to go into the legendary stadium. We therefore left Samwell, Anthony and Nicole in the Gringo Den and stepped out as Cesar, Juan and Federico. With cards to prove it.

A rough brisk later and our group of twenty climbed the many steps up to our seats. Though for next three hours we were almost entirely standing.

The concrete steps went down the whole stand, and so you just sit on the bare concrete. If people want to get nearer the front, they just clamber down past you, though we found ourselves asking where as it seemed at full capacity.

In the moments before kick-off the chants began in earnest. Venomously booing the opponents and cheering the home team when the names were announced. During the first half of the first half, everyone was on their feet: singing songs, waving arms, and getting behind the home team (and against the ref).

Then Unión scored. There was a couple of second lull where no-one reacted. Save the jubilent away fans above us, you could’ve heard a pin drop. And then suddenly the Boca fans erupted.

Songs were louder, arms were more vigorously thrust back and forth, and support for the team lifted the whole stadium into a party atmosphere to get behind the boys in blue. It became clear why the Boca crowd had earnt a reputation as being “The 12th Man”.

Before the end of the half, this sequence of events happened again, meaning when the referee blew his whistle, Unión went in 2-0 up.

We could also tell it was half time because everyone sat down. Immediately. A little behind the curve, the three of us attempted to wedge ourselves in amongst the many feet.

As the players came out, we resumed our former positions, and brought out hands for applause and chanting. The game continued to be entertaining, and the more Boca attacked the more it opened up, resulting in Unión scoring again. It was then a question whether a Bolivarian comeback (see 10.1) was possible.

Boca got one back at our end and we half expected to the crowd to fall silent, such was their apparent jubilation at the other team scoring. But nevertheless, the stand was once again buoyant with fresh hope of a comeback.

The closing stages had a few close chances, but Boca missed the clinical touch. When the final whistle went, there was no booing, no hissing, people just remained where they were and resumed their conversations. We had to let the rest of the stadium out to avoid a potential clash with the away fans.

There was then time for a few snaps and discussion of the game. Anthony(/Juan) speculated what might have happened had Boca Seniors (rather than the ‘Junior’ team) been playing…

We left Cesar, Juan and Federico by the stadium and stepped back onto the bus as our former selves. It was Anthony and Nicole’s last night of their South American trip and a pleasure to meet up and see them at such an impressive and famous Argentinean location.

Stadium

Me

Gringo garage

11.8 Buenos Aires

Buenos Aires, Argentina
Sunday, March 3, 2013

 

My week in the Argentinean capital was the last of my whole trip. After flying in from Mendoza, I spent Monday to Friday, 9 – 5 working at a German company that has offices out here. Evenings were spent wandering and the weekend I went off to see the sites.

The work experience was organised in principle back in London, and then finalised when out on the road. I had very informative week learning more about the Argentinean economy, and how an international company operates within the complex environment. After a few trips around the plant (they produce components for elevators) I was largely at my desk working on a report to send back to HQ.

My hostel was in a gritty, trendy neighbourhood of the city called San Telmo. On Sunday there was a huge market with all sorts of handmade products being sold by the street vendors up and down the avenues.

On my final evening, after resolving a money issue, I went for dinner with a girl from the hostel who was out researching the politics of agro-business in the region. All very interesting. After moving indoors from a thunderstorm, the tables in the restaurant were cleared and a couple of tango dancers took the floor. They both had moves. We then put the world to rights back at the hostel over a glass of red.

On one of the wanders I got to see some of the impressive and interesting sites in the city. The boulevards, bourgeois and book shops were evidence of Bs As being the Paris of Latin America.

The hot topic at this time was the issue of the Falklands/ Malvinas. Near one of the plazas was a public display calling for justice, and how the islands were rightfully their’s. On the day I left, the islanders voted in a referendum on what the sovereignty should be.

In defiance of what could have been a divisive political issue, my Argentinean boss for the week and I went out lunch and a tour of the city on the glorious Sunday afternoon. It ended up being a driven sightsee, through the different suburbs and neighbourhoods, and once again conversation gravitated towards sport. Or rather, how the English had invented most of the important ones in the world.

Buenos Aires was more or less run by British companies during the turn of the 20th Century (when it also had the 5th highest GDP in the world) and there are still remnants of this legacy today. All the ironwork at the port still bear the name of English companies from over 100 years ago.

With the important aspects of British and Argentinean history covered we drove into a glorious sunset to the outskirts of the city. Here it was out the car and into the airport to check in to my flight. The next time I would leave the terminal ecosystem a day or so later, I would be stepping on English soil, and the whole trip would be officially over…

Work station

Why bother with a side…

Falklands? Malvinas?

BA obelisco

Paris of Latin America

Street market

Tango in the streets

Mate pots

Antique shops

Odd shops

Governors’ House

Architecture

11.7.3 Vendimia (Wine Festival)

Mendoza, Argentina
Saturday, March 2, 2013

This was a very big deal in the city of Mendoza.

In the preceding days along my wanders around the city I’d seen billboards and posters dotted around with pictures of young ladies in tiaras. They were in shopfronts, on buses, and next to scaffolding; each from a different province of Mendoza state.

All became clear (sort of) on the Saturday evening at around 11.30pm, when all of these ‘Queens’ lined up on stage in front of thousands of screaming attendees in Mendoza’s open theatre.

Vendimia is an annual festival celebrating the grape harvest for the country’s wine. With Mendoza being the wine capital, it is naturally held there. In the days before there were street parades, dancing in the city, and innumerable flyers being handed out by glamorous assistants.

On the Saturday evening various groups of people were gathered up from hostels and couriered across town to the amphitheatre. Once through the barriers, there was an enslaught of shiny paper as everyone was pampleted to sign up for this phone contract, or see how impressive the public works are, or to pick up some Mendozan paraphernalia. Each person was also handed a lottery ticket.

It was then time to take to our seats, though being an amphitheatre it was just cold stone. On stage were the crowd warmers: a lively band invigorating the audience, and various streams of dolled up people completing the conga. At 10pm our hosts took to the stage and introduced the proceedings.

For about half an hour the grinning pair theatrically read out combinations of 6 numbers which corresponded to various prizes for the lottery. With this complete (I didn’t win) the Queens from the billboards strutted across stage, waving to the vocal crowd, whilst being chaperoned by a man in traditional Argentinean dress. The ladies were wearing pretty steep heels so I guess they needed support.

Next, someone new came to the stage and began narrating the story of why wine is important in the region, and the folklore behind the harvest. He was aided by a number of colourful, and well choreographed dances at various junctures which were the main event. It was kind of similar to the London 2012 Opening Ceremony as it chronologically ran through the region’s history (though this time of wine rather than Medieval villages to the NHS).

After just over an hour and half of seeing human leaves fluttering around the arena, traditional tango, and a few pantomine dogs (never did work that out) we reached a grand finale. There was then a number of patriotic songs, rousing music, emotional images projected on screen, and everybody rose for the National Anthem and to agree how great Argentina was.

Then the Queens came out again and our hosts revealed who was to be crowned as the Poster Girl for 2013 (I’m not sure of the official title). No one seemed to quite know how this was calculated, but the couple spent about half an hour reading out the province which received the vote, corresponding Queen would step forward and wave, and a pocket of the audience would scream wildly. This became a bit repetitive so the couple mixed things up a bit by elongating syllables, and showing off how they could roll their Rs: “Saaaaannnnn RRRaaafael”, “MaaaallaRR-huay”.

It soon became clear that Malargue (pronounced “Ma-lar-hoo-ay”) was winning, followed closely by Maipu (pronounced “My-poo”..). The Queen was then crowned, gave a teary speech thanking her Mum and praising the state of Mendoza. Many hugs were shared as the 2012 Queen passed on the reigns, meanwhile the unsuccessful women applauded with fixed smiles upon their faces.

We were then treated to an excellent firework display. I’m not usually too impressed by these, but the show really was spectacular. Like huge multicoloured dandelions appearing in the night sky. There was then another round of flag waving and chanting of the Mendoza Song (I can’t imagine an English city having their population sing an anthem for their hometown). As the lights came up though, everyone filed out to Elgar’s Pomp & Circumstance. Perhaps our international relations aren’t quite as tense as first imagined.

We then walked past the plethora of food vans selling variations of fried meat in bread, and located our minivan amongst the hundreds. By 2am we set off back to the city, and completed the return effort of dropping people at their hostels.

Still not 100% what I’d just witnessed, it was then to the dorm after full day of Mendozan wine.

Open air theatre

Queen crowned

Dancing #1

Dancing #2

Dogs

Stadium

Queen #1

Queen #2

Queen #3

11.7.2 Wine/ Bike ride

Mendoza, Argentina
Saturday, March 2, 2013

It was still well before noon when our group were first dipping our noses into a Malbec rose at a family run vineyard on the outskirts of Mendoza city.

In between the three wineries we visited until the early afternoon our transport was on two wheels (per person). The bike rides were on a mixture of main road and glorious leafy backlanes.

The vineyards were each different in scale. Number One was an Organic farm, Two a larger operation that recently won an International Award, and Three somewhere in between.

Number One had interesting methods of farming without pesticides (though this probably just shows my ignorance). They have “indicator” plants, so if pests do attack – the effects can be spotted. Fruit trees are dispersed amongst the vines as a more tempting option for insects than the grapes. Olive trees act as a wind barrier, and horses are employed to reduce machinery use.

They kept output fairly low, and used traditional methods of production. All labels are put on by hand, to again reduce machinery dependence. In the Tasting Room, our guide explained how they exported a lot to different countries (USA, Holland, Taiwan etc.). Exactly the same wine went into each bottle, but the labels were drastically different so they could resonate with the local consumer.

Amongst the collection, she picked out and talked us through their different ranges the winery made. Malbec was popular, though her favourite was when it was blended with Cabernet Sauvignon. The shop also sold olive oils, jams, and other delicacies.

Next stop was Number Two.

This was a much more industrial scale winery. The building was very sleek, modern, and looked out across their hectares. We were once more talked through the wine making process (some of it is being to stick now), though their equipment and logistics were much grander.

For the tasting we went up to the leather sofas and were talked through the method for “fully appreciating” what we held in our glasses. Looking for the colour, the primary smell, the swill, the secondary smell, the sip, the savour, the gulp. I’m not sure if it’s because the stuff was good either way, but it did taste nice. Once we got around to the gulp…

With this it was back on the saddle to Number Three.

Here there was no messing around: “take a seat and here’s your glass”. Our guide was very fun and got everyone involved trying the different tipples. She explained how 2004 was “a great year” for the Malbec Reserve. We all concurred. To have the 2007 vintage was simply unthinkable.

Within the group were 6 middle-aged Brazilians who ensured they got their money’s worth. Whenever the guide’s back was turned, they topped up on the Merlots, Chardonnays and Syrahs.

On the bus back, it had taken its toll. In a brilliantly entertaining half an hour they were singing, dancing, walking down the aisle, and encouraging our driver to turn up the radio. It was great fun. One of the guys was practicing his English, but a bit like someone pulling the cord on Woody from Toy Story, he got stuck saying: “Life is wonderful. Life is wonderful” which the English speakers found especially amusing.

Unfortunately the party had to finish once we got to our hostel back in town, but we left the Brazilians in high spirits, and sorted out things before 11.7.3.

Grapes

Cycling

Describing wines

Same wine, different labels

Take your pick

Posh tasting room

Bikes and bus

All bottles labelled by hand

Fields of grapes

Wine Chat instructions

11.7.1 Sunset horse riding

Mendoza, Argentina
Thursday, February 28, 2013

Recently down from the saddle, sipping on a glass of red, and chatting over the sizzle of huge hunks of steak in an outdoor brick barbeque; it was a gloriously typical Argentinean moment.

At 1730 we arrived at the ranch, about a forty minute drive out of the city centre, and half an hour later we were mounting the horses with the early evening sun warming our faces. For the next hour or so we circulated around the dusty fields at what I think was a trot (my knowledge of the horse speed classification system is minimal), stopping at various points to rearrange, and look at the views.

Back at the ranch (can’t believe I get to use that literally) we hopped off the horses and sat round the table with the owners. This part of the tour was the highlight for me.

The land was given to Javier for free some years ago. Growing up on a farm, and having studied Tourism, he started making these tours recently. His brother and a few friends joined him, and there were also a number of other people helping out who were living on site.

We all made empanadas (a sort of small, smooth Cornish pasty), cracked open some red wine/ beers and chatted about all sorts of Finding Yourself topics. Soon the sky was turning an array of reds, oranges and pinks. To stay warm we gravitated to the glowing barbeque which was being stoked up for the imminent arrival of meat.

Sat at the main table we all enjoyed the full hospitality of our hosts. Wine was flowing, and the various side dishes and chunks of beef were being passed around the group. Myself, Javier, a German and an Austrian attempted to put the world to rights, and in doing so compared our cultural backgrounds.

One thing of interest (#economicsgraduate) was the devaluation of the Peso about 10 years ago. It meant that overnight, prices reduced by a third, which at first might seem like good news as things became cheaper. However, grains/ cereals have a global price as they are traded on an international exchange, and so retained their previous price. Consequently there was an odd scenario of meat being, say $2/kg, but the grains required to feed the animals being $5/kg. This meant that suddenly, farmers (like Javiers’s father) had to cull all their livestock as it was not possible to feed them and keep them alive.

The devaluation made it cheaper for tourists to visit Argentina, so with the loss of his father’s farm, Javier took it upon himself to work in hostels by night, and learn English in the day to take adapt to this structural change. When the government gave Javier the land (it was otherwise going to waste), he the combined his skills to start this venture.

The night drew on, the food polished off, the jugs of wine were dried, and the arrival of our bus driver meant it was time to bid our farewells. It was nearly midnight when we returned (did I say that the Argentineans eat late?) concluding a very pleasant evening, and insight into an aspect of the Mendozan way of life

Javier + Horse

My horse

Sunset BBQ

Empenadas

Eating arena

Horses

11.7 Mendoza

Mendoza, Argentina
Wednesday, February 27, 2013

The first point I will note about Mendoza is its town planning (weren’t expecting that were you..)

An earthquake in the mid-19th century necessitated a rethink of the roads and layout of the area. To avoid a repeat of the architechtural devastation, the avenues were built wide, with plenty of parks around the centre of the city. Trees still line the pavements, and in the late summer sun, it was all very pretty.

And now the wine.

Mendoza is accountable for over 80% of Argentina’s production of wine. The superstar grape is Malbec, though the others grown here are far from disappointing. In fact during 11.7.2 we were told how a group of French people toured and had nothing but praise; saying the Argentineans grow the best Malbec in the world. Seeing as its a French grape, the compliment carries a fair bit of weight..

On Friday night a parade happened as a prequel to the big Wine Festival (11.7.3). It was all quite fun, with people dressed up and dancing to the music blaring out from the lorries that slowly progressed down the street. Those on the “floats” distributed an array of gifts to the grasping hands of those on the roadside. Sometimes it was sweets, though often just leaflets for things like new Water Projects in the area.

What got most attention though was when the glamorous queens handed out peaches, plums and grapes. The kids were going mental for them. It seems if you want to boost a child’s intake of their 5-a-day it helps to have a shiny truck and play Lady Gaga..

Throughout the four days in the city, there were three activities of note (11.7.1/2/3) and in between I spent time exploring the broad avenues, enjoying the sun, and chatting to people at the hostel.

With timing carrying more importance, the route out of Mendoza was airbourne, arriving to Buenos Aires in one tenth of a bus journey.

Park #1

Street

Water fountain got spiked

Street parade #1

Street parade #2

Street parade #3

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