After multiple flight delays, we finally boarded our plane for a nine hour flight to the Paris of South America, Buenos Aires. Passing the time by attempting to sleep, watching corny airplane movies and pacing the aisles anxiously, we finally arrived. Upon landing we found ourselves unable to find the shuttle from the hostel to pick us up. Not altogether annoyed at our misfortune, we found consolation in the fact the airport teemed with the most beautiful women we had ever seen. An experience that would be repeated in every part of the city that we would visit.
After achieving a miserable failure in our attempt to use the pay phone at the airport, a taxi driver walking through the airport was kind enough to let us use his phone. We talked to the front desk who told us that the shuttle was there waiting.... LIES! Walking around for another fifteen minutes with no luck, we approached Martina, a gorgeous Argentinian we had met the previous night at the hotel. Luckily she was still at the airport chatting with her family, enjoying the reunion. She allowed us to use her phone, and calling the hostel once more, the concierge told us the shuttle was still there waiting... LIES AGAIN!! hehe. After a last sweep of the exit gate, which spit out groggy and confused passengers from around the world in a steady stream, we decided to grab a cab.
Hopping in the cab, it was immediately apparent that I had picked the right travel partner. Whether I blame A.D.D. or loud music, it became obvious that Andrew understood Spanish far better than I, and in contrast, I was able to speak in Spanish easily while his Spanish vernacular contained maybe ten words. Andrew would listen and translate and I would respond immediately became our plan. And it worked beautifully.
After agreeing upon a price, we hopped into a cab... well not just a cab but the right cab. Asking if we could smoke in the cab, the driver turns to us and handing us each a cigarette he welcomes us with a big, toothy smile and the words "Bienvenido a Buenos Aires." The kindness he showed was a welcomed introduction to the city and a kindness that we would see time and again in this beautiful country. As he drove, he explained the city to us as best he could given our lack of a shared language. Peering out the window at the neon-lit city, it expanded out around us for miles in every direction. Tall buildings lined the main roadway, an immense sixteen lane road that ran down the center of the city like an artery pumping life into the surrounding calles. A mix of European architecture and South American culture breathed life into the city, urging me to call it home. And as I write this, I find myself enticed to oblige.
Turning off the massive roadway, our driver took us around the block and showed us the cheapest market, liquor store and pharmacy nearby. Thanking him, and paying for both the ride and the information we exited the cab and knocked anxiously on the glass door to our new home. Checking in and climbing the stairs to our room, we locked our bags up and returned to the main room for our first meal in the amazing city of Buenos Aires. The meal was delicious, and the cook friendly. We filled ourselves on the rich meal of bell peppers, potatoes and rice. Accompanied by a beer, the entire meal cost us 25 pesos or about $6 USD.
Our bellies full we returned upstairs to meet our first friends of the trip; Antonio a talented Peruvian artist who's paintings of Peruvian holy places, and the vivid culture that occupied them invoked amazement in the talent of the young man; And Mauricio (Mauro), a true Chilean with a huge smile and a heart of gold with a sense of humor that mirrored that of my own. Antonio was leaving the following morning, but Mauro would come to be a critical component in our adventures in this beautiful city, and would be greatly missed when he returned home. Though we only had 4 days before he left Mauro, Andrew and I came to call ourselves los tres amigos and everyday explored the city together laughing until our jaws ached and our bellies hurt.
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