Home Sweet Home

I took an overnight bus from Cordoba to Buenos Aires, where i arrived early in the morning. There were several minor problems facing me when I arrived: Even though I had tried to book a bed at Milhouse Hostel - recommended to me by both Looney and a very experienced backpacker - they had somehow not received my first request and thus I didn't yet have a place to stay for the first 3 days. I also hadn't been in touch with my host family from study abroad, Josefina and Nacio, because when I got back to the States after the semester, my computer with the email addresses had been stolen; and since it was 6.30 in the morning, I didn't feel like it was an appropriate time to stop by for a surprise visit. Moreover, I didn't really have a game plan for what I wanted to do while in Bs As, except for my desire to eat falafel at our "establishment" up in Palermo (more on that adventure in another post).

Anyway, I hauled my rear end to Milhouse anyway, thinking they might reserve some beds just for stop-ins (a.k.a. people who just show up) since many hostels do this. Unfortunately, they do not. However, another person had recommended a hostel around the corner from there, which for all its other charms has the unfortunate nomer "The Clan House." However, I can certify that no Imperial Wizards or the like are hiding out there: it's just yet another example of Argentines' trouble with the English language, where certain phrases just don't carry over. I ended up really liking the feel of the hostel and more importantly, the people living there, so I stayed there for most of my time in Bs. As. even returning after my 3 nights at the Milhouse, which I found overly institutional and was populated by about 90% English and Irish. Coincidentally, I ran into the group of travelling Englishmen (and -woman) that have been trailing me around the continent: from checking into Casa Roja in Santiago on the same day to seeing them in Pucón, Puerto Varas, sharing a hostel in Chiloe, and the Bs. As., it's getting a little weird. They're good people though, so it's ok - though like many British travellers in these parts, they speak little Spanish and drink a lot.

Anyway, the first day in Bs As I decided to take a look at Plaza Francia/Recolleta and the design center there (my favorite shops in the world? probably...) and on the way back stopped by and luckily found both Nacio anf Fina at home, so hung out there for a couple hours catching up with them. Since it was Friday, Nacio said he'd drum together the old gang at their new bar, and we'd try to make it an early night. As it were, it was an early night for Argentines - we met at 12.30 am. I think I got home at 8.30 am.

I spent most of my 9 days in the city visiting old haunts and just generally walking around parks and visiting museums. Then, on the weekends, hanging out with Nacio and the other guys I met through him during my study abroad time there, which was awesome, and the best part of being in Bs. As. During my time there, I realized that the city really does feel almost like home to me. I realized that I've spent about as much time living in Buenos Aires as I have in London, and my knowledge of London is hardly any better than that of Buenoas Aires. Plus, which my various accents in various languages, I probably get no more strange looks - less actually - in Argentina than I do in London. And because I speak like a porteño, I don't get messed with like i do in the UK for having an American accent, people expect that I know the city. So hopefully, one of these days I can get a job in Buenos Aires and spend another couple months - if not years - there.