Parting Ways
The morning light brought a completely different travel scenario than had been experienced in weeks. I'm going to use a grandmotherly lexicon to describe an incredible couple. Marijn and Lotte define for me what it means to be "delightful people". Each is remarkably open to welcoming other people, so collectively they are a "good will" force to be reckoned with. I'm definitely going to miss their easy going dispositions and litany of good natured humor. Wishing them "all the best" would be an understatement. So, a beautiful morning was made just a little more dull by their 6:15 am departure. Proving their openness to caring for others, Stephie tagged along for the sixteen hour bus ride to Bariloche, Argentina.
So that left Andrea and I to head-off for an evening flight to Buenos Aires. By the time mid-afternoon rolled around the sky was up to its continually evolving tricks, leading us to wonder about an "on time" departure.
Arriving an hour before the flight, combined with a five minute check-in process, gave us time to wander the grounds of the miniature "International Airport", complete with brand new terminal addition under construction to the right (if you can call it that). The perpetual wind gust was reflected in the tattered fringe of the Argentine flag.
Having killed about twenty minutes outside, led to indoor time extinguishing tactics like "let's compare passport stamps." The major surprise was finding the best passport photo I've ever seen. It still looks like Andrea, but somehow appears to be a German government professional portraiture at the same time... a bureaucratic impossibility, of course.
"In flight entertainment" consisted of this extremely "touchy" family. We were in awe and a little "creeped out" by the daisy chain of connection. Ok, here's the total tactile recap: Dad with head on wife's breast (not shoulder), while caressing adult son's head and hairline, with son and daughter snuggling under the same airplane blanket. Maybe it was just an unfair reaction from an East German woman and American man with similarly physically sterile upbringings, but in defense our Maori row companion thought it a little bizarre as well.
Our punishment for judging the in-flight "familial human cluster" was a 1:00 am arrival into the steamy nocturnal heat of Buenos Aires. Even in the middle of the night the city seemed to be on humid "simmer" mode. To add to the fun, our hostel was the worst in a year and a half of travel. Bunk beds were stacked three high, without being bolted to the wall, in stagnant windowless rooms. A dank moistness clung to everything, including the torn prison style mattress, limply draped over minimal wooden cross slats. (I unpacked my Thermo-rest backpacking sleeping pad to cover the nocturnal vileness.) To say that this place smelled like a locker room would have been a compliment. Now add hoards of loud partying Israeli's and locals to the smoke filled scene and there were just too many senses under attack for an eye mask and ear plugs to cover up.
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