Monthly Archives: June 2012

So it comes down to this.  My last night out in BA, and indeed in South America.  Tomorrow I will recover, Monday play some Polo, Tuesday visit Uruguay, Wednesday bike tour the city and Thursday I fly to London.  Either that or I’m just going to get wrecked every single night and see and do …

So the best thing about BA is its nightlife, therefore I reassure myself that I am seeing the best of BA by getting out of bed when it’s dark.  It reminds me of Madrid.  I never saw that city by day either, I just ate around 10pm, then partied all night.  I’m slipping back into that …

With the best will in the world to rise early and see something of the city, I’m still in bed by mid afternoon.  Sleep when you’re tired I guess.  I also convince myself that it’s a horrible day outside anyway, and useless for taking decent photographs.  Instead I take a brief walk to a MacDonald’s, …

Against my better judgment, I’ve opted to stay at Milhouse, one of the biggest and most notorious party hostels you could find.  I’m planning on going out from South America with a bang.  Literally. I’ve spent the day getting used to my new surroundings and acclimatising to the sheer size of the place.  It’s a …

I make a positive decision to leave today, for the main reason that Boca Juniors are playing tomorrow night in the Copa Libertadores final.  This is a match I simply must get tickets for.  After saying my goodbyes to my new found friends, I make my way to the bus terminal for the 16 hour …

This is a nightmare.  The internet has gone down.  I’m nibbling my fingers and shuffling around the rooms like a cornered rapist.  I feel I’ve done something wrong.  The only saving grace for today is the wonderful food served at lunch time which I manage to drag myself out of bed for.  Luis has not …

I’ve totally forgotten about the England game, and while I really should be moving on, it’s time to hit the Irish bar once again to watch the match.  Luis is joining, and at his suggestion I’m leaving tonight to accompany him to his friends flat in San Pedro, a small town off the gringo trail …

As hostels go, this has got to be one of the quietest on record.  Quiet as in I’m the only person staying here.  Feeling like death, I simply lie in my wasted private room and mess around on the internet for the whole day.  That is until I decide to go out.  What did you …

I booked a wine tour late last night, because if there is one thing you need to do in Mendoza it’s sample some offerings from their second biggest export.  This means I am up with the lark (oil is the first) to venture into some local vineyards and convince myself I’m not saucing my head with refined …

So this is it then.  Cheerio Paddy.  The next time we meet may well be on another continent, or not at all if he has his way.  Still I can see the tears in his eyes as we hug our goodbyes, and catch a sniff of the nose.  Or that may have been me.  All …