Sunday 18 March 2012


Eleven hours to Santiago, three hours on the ground there, then another 90 minutes to Buenos Aires... I'm just glad I'm not the guy in our group from Perth, who started his journey on Saturday morning. I had my nose to the window for crossing the Andes, but after that it was flat green pampas all the way, till we got to the huge sprawl of this city of 14 million, at around 5.30pm.

We whizzed in along a fancy highway, through what they would call in Australia a linear park where masses of family groups were happily picknicking and flying kites right beside the busy road - how peculiarly English of them. There was just time for a quick shower before we were out again, walking a few blocks to the Sunday flea market around this lovely church. It was the usual crafts and snacks, but with a laid-back feel to it, helped by a live band and lots of locals just chilling out on the grass in the warm evening air.

Then three of us lost our guide and the fourth member, and ended up by ourselves in a busy and cheerful downstairs restaurant where we had local beer and empanadas, and I discovered that locra is not for me. I do hope these aren't ill omens.

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