Posts Tagged hotel

1] I bought a copy of the second Harry Potter book in Spanish, (as they were out of the first one) at a shop in Salta. It was ostensibly to replace Under the Volcano, which is the AR$80 book that I left at the Hostel, but I’m finding it just as difficult to read, probably because I don’t know any Spanish.

2] We stayed at a “Five Star” hotel in Iguazu for a couple days for reasons that you’ll have to buy me a beer to learn, and I found out that in Argentina, you can pretty much put as many stars onto your hotel sign as you want. What’s Michelin going to do, sue you? However, the pool was nice and the young men working behind the reception desk were exceptionally kind and resourceful. And the orange juice was oh-so-fresh-squeezed.

3] I bought a low-end camera in Salta, too. If you know me, you know I can be unreasonably picky about material purchases, even those that I will probably lose (or break, or drop in a lake) in a month or two, so it was a bit heartbreaking to settle for some crappy camera. But it’s nice to have something to take pictures with other than the phone. Even if the battery dies after like 20 pictures.

4] As of press time, I’m about 3/4 through my massive bus ride down to Bariloche, and it feels like no time whatsoever has passed. This, my friends, is truly the way to travel. Everything is so comfy and they come around every few hours with cookies and coffee or little bits of candy or fancy hot meals. I got my own bottle of wine for dinner (just like last night), and I’m expecting to be served champagne in an hour or two to help monsieur get to sleep.

And that’s a nice segue into:

5] I’m pretty sure I’m gaining weight exponentially. I’ve heard some stories of people gaining massive amounts of poundage on trips down here, but running was helping to curb my lateral growth for a while. And now, not so much with the running. I’m not super worried about it or anything; this is pretty much just a warning that I may be a bit rounder when I come home. Try not to gape too much.

6] We met an amazing woman named Mierna (spelling terribly inaccurate) in Salta. You may recognize her name from the photo in which Eduardo shows Mierna what it feels like to dance with a man full of amor. But Mierna herself is pretty unforgettable. She’s working on her PhD, studying translations of the work of “a very important Brazilian novelist,” whose name I’ll never be able to remember, and traveling around the world in her spare time. My first impression of Mierna was that she’s an incredibly intelligent, very well-spoken woman, which all proved true. However, she’s Brazilian, and passionate, and really truly loves to enjoy her private life as well as teaching and studying and reading and translating and discoursing. And I felt so incredibly out of my league while attempting to discuss literary translations with her, but she never made me feel stupid, which is an amazing feat on her part.

7] Argentines love the 80’s. Not just the music, but the haircuts. And I’m not sure they’re being referential.

8] Also met a fellow in Salta named Biker Guy*. He’s an Irish fellow with a very strong Gaelic accent who decided to ride through South America on his bike. An admirable goal, no doubt an impressive undertaking. And a very odd guy. He came out with us my second night in Salta, and I spoke with him quite a bit but was really only able to understand five or six words all night. Also a bit of a drooler. But! He was riding all over South America! On his bike!

And finally,

9A] Federico. Combining the Argentine love of mullets, inappropriate romantic advances, and 80’s music, we have Federico. He was the bartender at the hostel in Salta, and he loved the ladies. And Jheri Curl. He was a charmer, though, and when Folkloric Dancing Night at the hostel came around, he was always one of the first to start clapping in unison. He also put my NorteAmericano dance moves to shame at the Salta toothpaste club.

9B] Fernando. Our safari-shorts-wearing, wisecracking, rugby-playing tour guide on the Cachi and Las Nubes trips was, I thought, a pretty cool guy. He even took those crazy pictures in the salt flats (while laying down in the dirt for the sake of his art). And when our minibus blew a flat on the way back from the mountain, he kept the group entertained by throwing around a rugby ball in the middle of a busy street, which was cool. But then I heard that he was laying it on a bit thick to one of the Kiwi girls that we met, and when she disappeared after accepting a moto ride from him that evening, I think he may actually have been a bit sleazy. Good hair, though. Definitely at least 90’s hair.

*not his real name.