Argentina: 5th May - 9th May
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| I arrived in Buenos Aires and withdrew some money from an ATM in the airport without problems. Spent the rest of that day having a little look around the city centre but nothing too strenuous. I found a copy of Joe Simpson's book Touching The Void in the book exchange in the hostel and spent most of the afternoon and the entire evening reading it. I could really empathise with what the boys there went through thanks to my recent (albeit not so dramatic) adventures on Huayna Potosí. Next day I was on a flight again, this time up to Iguazu Falls at the border with Brazil. From the airport I took a bus directly to the falls, where I then spent the afternoon. |
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| Dunno if these pictures really convey the sheer scale of Iguazu but no other waterfalls come even close. Not Victoria Falls (which are equally impressive but in a more modest way) and certainly not Niagara. |
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| I spent that entire afternoon exploring the lower reaches of the falls on the Argentinian side but annoyingly missed the last train out to the Estación del Diablo to view the Garganta del Diablo, the most dramatic part of the falls. So I was going to have to decide what to do the next morning before my flight back to BsAs; either head quickly over to the Brazilian side as originally planned, or head back to the Argentinian side to see the Garganta del Diablo from there. As things turned out I didn't manage either, because my bank helpfully blocked my credit card so I couldn't get any more money out that evening. Thus I spent the next morning in the bank, queuing for a cash advance. I buggered that up too; after over an hour in the bank I was one step away from getting some cash but time ran out on me; I had to abandon the procedure to rush back to my hotel to catch the only shuttle bus to the airport. I got to the hostel at the time agreed with the shuttle company only to find that it had left early without me. "Oh yeah", said the twat on reception, "it always comes early". Thanks for telling me when you booked it for me. Now I had no way to get to the airport except via taxi, and not enough money to pay for it. I had to resort to begging twenty pesos from a very helpful couple of fellow travellers in the hostel. Right at the end of the trip, and it was all going horribly wrong. |
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| Now I'm coming to the end of this story, not much more to tell you really except that I had two nights in Buenos Aires, which I spent in the wonderful company of my old Zanzibar buddy Eliza and her boyfriend Gary, before making the final bus ride out to Ezeiza airport for my Air France flight to Düsseldorf via Paris. For me, the last few days of any Big Trip are always accompanied by a variety of emotions; usually a strong feeling of wanting to go home, wanting to catch up with family and friends, wanting to experience things that have been missed whilst on the road. Yet at the same time a nagging feeling of regret, of sadness, for the passing of a unique time in your life, a time that can't and won't ever be repeated. A wish that you could be back at the start again, to live all those wonderful experiences over another time, or maybe do things differently. Above all a knowledge that, whilst right there and then in the last hostel bed on the last night the only thing in the world you want is to be home, in a week or two's time all you'll want to do is be back on the road again, with a rucksack on your back and beach sand between your toes. |
| But this time it is going to be different, because this time there is someone special waiting at home for me, someone I haven't mentioned at all in this travel journal, blog, whatever you want to call it, but who was always there in the front of my mind, whose picture I looked at every single day hoping and praying she'd wait for me despite my selfishness and, let's face it, downright cheek in leaving her alone for nearly eight months. This time things are going to be different. |
The End
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