You live and your learn

I'm pretty sure in my old age neuroses are starting to develope. I began planning my sister and my Patagonian adventure about 8 months ago and in that time I've perfected a twisted version of OCD for research (literally scowlering the Internet for every travel blog, advise column, and iteniery on things to do and see in Patagonia), had anxiety attacks over what clothing I should bring (resulting in 5 trips to the mall/outlets and 2 amazon purchases all to find the perfect warm, yet thin puffy jacket and a backpack that would fit my camera, but not stand out as a camera backpack), plus I've managed to become the queen of needing everything to be planned ahead of time - a disturbing development considering I used to just go by the seat my pants, so to speak. My old Meyers Briggs score is no doubt screaming at me to update my answers.

Anyhow, all my careful, metiticalous planning and foresight is finally a reality. We touched down in Buenos Aires, Argentina 9 hours ago and in that time I've walked over 7 miles, almost twisting my ankle three times (the sidewalks are shit and if I start to drink that Malbec that is everywhere, I'm screwed); visited La Recoleta Cemetery, a very old and gothic cemetery that houses the remains of Evita; and been a victim to the con-artist scam where an asshole throws gross stuff on you, then helps you clean it off while their friend steals your bag. Luckily I knew that the minute something wet ended up all over my hair and back something was up. My theory of the scam was confirmed when the guy in front of me stepped to the side, took out napkins, and waved Robby and I over to "help" us get the crap off our stuff. 

Robby stood still like a deer in headlights wondering what the hell was spilled all over her while I told her to move it, distancing ourselves from the schmuck. The sucky part was that we'd just started our first day adventure out in the city and did not want to head back to the hostel to change, so we smelled like the spit of tobacco chew mixed with sewage all day. Why couldn't we get coffee grounds or even an egg smashed on us instead? A McDonald's bathroom helped in making us less offensive smelling, but it was nasty. The good news was that we were wearing our shitty yoga pants and dry wick t-shirts- easy stuff to clean, not so important if they get nasty shit spilled on them.

So I guess we will now just have to be more vigilant of our sourroundings and if someone does that again, Robby might pummeled them- which could be awesome or we could end up seeing what a lovely Argentinean jail cell looks like- which could also be interesting. Other than the stupid scam artist event, Argentina seems like a lovely place. It's very green; the buildings have a Eastern Europe/Colonial/New York vibe to them with balconies, small doorways, and lots of stairs; the food smells amazing and coffee can be found on every block (although I've yet to try some); plus it's a walking/bike city with small, treelined side streets jetty out of most intersections.

Now, I've finally gotten a shower and our private hostel room looks like a wet clothes line threw up, but at least everything, including the 2 occupants of the room, smell presentable. I'm pretty sure a bottle of Malbec is calling my name, so I bid everyone an adieu and I welcome you all to my Patagonian adventures.