Canada to Patagonia at a Worrying Age

It strikes me that I’ve said goodbye to 4 people in 4 days, although I hope to see all again in the not too distant future.  Graham Greene, in Ways of Escape, offers loads of parallels and quotes.

Bye bye to Buenos Aires and everything it offers.  Food, drink, football, demos, tango and taxis.

Came across all last night as I said goodbye to Paul (who I met on New Year’s Eve in Cusco).  Had a meal and a drink, witnessed some tango singing, trip over two demonstrations and the telly was showing bits of Sunday’s game when I got in.  OK, I avoided the black and yellow lottery (otherwise known as hailing a cab), but a fairly typical night for all that. 

From tomorrow my Spanglish will be fairly useless.  From there on in, it will be Portuglish, although plans to practice it on the Varig plane home have been cancelled as I’ve been switched to British Airways.  Expect bad service and rubbish queues at check-in.  Of course, I should never have expected to finish the trip on an uncomplicated, well-timed flight (and I’ve still got to get to Sao Paulo from Florianopolis).

In the meantime it’s farewell to BA after a month here.  Despite the obvious downer at the beginning everything has been great about my favourite world city.

Off to pack my bag and sort out my final bits and pieces.  Danger of limited availability of the right kinds of technology in Floripa, so be aware there may be less activity from my end.

Fnarr, fnarr from KC below. 

Last night deliberately low key with a martini at the Claridge and, avoiding the prostitute touts, a wander back to the Ailen via the Obelisco.  Thought I’d have a quiet can of Quilmes, but of course there was a demo going on.  There are three current top notch demo reasons in BA.  Pension theft, the Disappeared and the victims of the Cromagnon disaster in 2004.  Tonight was a twist on the latter with fans of the band that were playing on the night demonstrating their solidarity with the victims, but also their affinity to the group, which has been prevented from gigging ever since, most recently because a father of one of the victims threatened the band with death on stage.  Such is life here in Argentina.  Sad to leave.

Have fun.

…so all I’ll say is that it was something of a lavish production and they could sing loud and in tune. And, as is the norm in opera, the woman died at the end. Oh, and our £100 seats had a restricted view, unless you are Vicky and you shift the previous occupants of the front box seats at the interval. (The interval, by the way, was one of those ‘tip the bloke’ moments. All tables were already reserved when I ordered our half time champagne – yes, Cath, I am a flashpacker. However, the waiter organised an extra one from out of thin air by the time we got out.)

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