We went to the river yesterday, in El Tigre, outside of Buenos Aires. It was not a river for swimming, but Julie and I took a long boatride and I drunk lots of Mate. On the way home, there was someone smoking pot on the train. Something about this made me smile. Between the singing futbol teams and selling of alfajores, the train rides are definitely unique.
When we returned the protest/celebration on the Plaza de Mayo was taking place. There were tons of people and such an incredible energy in the air. There was an old man pushing a blue and white cart, wearing a blue and white flag, holding a sign of his disappeared son. There was also a man who came up to me to inform me that I looked just like his first love. The streets were covered in papers and colored tin foil. The air was filled with the sound of drums, dancing, marching, song.
I like the street where we are staying, Hipolito Yrigogen. The streets are slender and shadowy, the buildings recollections of another era. It is usually empty and most of the stores are usually closed. I like this too. We had pastries for breakfast today and some of the best espresso I have had since I arrived. Yum. Considering one of those ridiculous cones for an afternoon snack...
Tomorrow we are going to Bariloche, where the mountains are peaked in snow.
