¿Cómo andas, Che?  It’s been a long time since I’ve updated the universe on my happenings in Buenos Aires since I came home on last Sunday after spending 10 days roughing it in the Patagonian wilderness.  My best friend Anita made me a little to-do list consisting of riding a humpback whale, taming a wild horse, and mingling with the penguins and I’m proud to say that I did ALL OF THOSE (más o menos).  

Last Wednesday, Phoebe and I were getting ready for our luxurious 20 hour bus ride from Buenos Aires to Puerto Madryn.  Seriously.  TWENTY HOURS.  I don’t want to talk about it.  

Our bus was scheduled to leave the Retiro station at 9 PM.  We got to the station at around 8:30 and it was OUT OF CONTROL.  I think every single Porteño in Buenos Aires was at the bus station with us.  It was the beginning of Semana Santa in Argentina (a five-day weekend for Easter and the only time Catholicism matters in this country) so everyone was traveling to visit their familia who lived outside the city.  (Side note: “I just wrote Happy Belated Birthday, Jesus!” and then realized that his birthday was Christmas and that Easter was when he rose from the dead or something of that nature.  Accurate illustration about how much I care/know about ~*0rg@n1z3d r3L1GiOn*~)  

HEART BREAKER.  DREAM TAKER.  DON OTTO, TE ODIO:


Here’s where the real story actually begins.  Phoebe and I waited in a HUGE line to pick up our bus tickets.  It was so annoying because there were two windows: one to pick up tickets for that day and one to buy tickets for a different day.  There were 40 million people in the first line and ZERO in the second.  But actually using both windows was too complicated for the Argentines so Phoebe and I started to freak out because we had 10 minutes until our bus left and we were still behind a few people in line.  We finally got to the front of the line with TWO MINUTES left until our bus’s departure.  I was so nervous I’m surprised I didn’t lose control of my muscles and begin to convulse on the floor.  We got our tickets and got on the bus and 20 hours later we were in Puerto Madryn!  OH, WAIT…that would’ve been easy so of course that didn’t happen.  The ticket man told us that we had to go to Stand #29 to pick up our ticket.  We were at Stand #129.  With approximately 30 seconds until our bus’s departure date.  I didn’t know I was capable of running that fast with two backpacks.  Poor Phoebe had one of those heavy duty backpacking backpacks and it was as big as she was so it was a miracle she could walk—let alone run—with that thing strapped onto her.  

We got our tickets and bolted downstairs to where the buses were leaving and in the time we spent getting our tickets 45,456,335 more Argentines had flooded the bus station.  We could barely get to our gate and when we did, we had no idea where our bus was supposed to be.  The ticket man told us that it would be somewhere between gates 15 and 21 (being precise hasn’t really made it big in Argentina yet).  We asked a few people waiting around and they looked at our tickets, then at their watches and were like, “Ooh…your bus left.  Lo siento, Che.  I’m gonna go eat an alfajor now, chau.”  I wanted to scream “JESUS CHRIST, IS THIS PUNISHMENT FOR NOT KNOWING THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN YOUR BIRTHDAY AND YOUR RISE FROM THE DEAD?  I’M SORRY I GREW UP IN A NONDENOMINATIONAL HOUSEHOLD!” or just start crying but instead we asked around some more and found out that there was a slight delay and that we didn’t miss our bus.  We were so relieved and our luck was turning around because one of the bus workers offered his trolley thing so that Phoebe didn’t have to haul her backpack (which we christened as Marcelo) anymore.  He took us to where our bus was going to be and then demanded that we give him 50 pesos.  I was ready to head-butt him into oncoming bus traffic.  I ended up having to argue with him in Castellano that we weren’t going to pay because he didn’t tell us beforehand and he was trying to aprovecharnos (take advantage of us).  Phoebe ended up paying 20 pesos to make him go away.  NO. ME. GUSTA.  

We waited around for a little more than an hour for our bus and when it finally arrived, Phoebe and I happily hopped on and got comfortable for our 20 hour journey (each time I type how long the ride was a piece of my soul shrivels up into a tiny, bitter raisin).  Wait…that would’ve been easy, wouldn’t it?  SO OF COURSE SOMETHING WENT WRONG.  Some guy came up to me and told me that I was in his seat.  I wanted to say, “Eschucháme, Che,  you do not want to mess with me right now.  I have a package of alfajors and I am NOT afraid to force feed you until you explode from the bañado de chocolate wonder.”  Sadly, that didn’t happen and Phoebe and I realized that we were on the wrong bus.  We got off and waited for our bus.  Finally at 12:15 AM, our bus pulled up.  More than three hours late.  Three hours.  And we had 20 to go.  Can I get a WOMP WOMP?  

At one point during the 20 hour journey to Puerto Madryn, I was trapped in the bus bathroom.  I kept ramming myself against the door like an angry ox and when the door finally opened it smacked the guy waiting in line for the bathroom hard in the face.  I am a MAGNET for ludicrous situations.  Then our complimentary movie was none other than “Taken,” the #1 film choice for girls traveling on their own.  It was in Spanish which made it more intense and when it was over I was really scared because as previously stated, my father is too much of a “free spirit” to pull a Liam Neeson and karate shop/electrocute/murder people who tried to sell me in a sex ring.  I remember watching it for the first time with my parents and at the end my mother turned to me and said something along the lines of, “See Layla, this is why it’s good to be a virgin.  You’re worth more if someone tries to sell you.”  Excuse me, but WHAT?  Am I supposed to find comfort in this terrifying detail?!  

We finally arrived to Puerto Madryn.  The hostel owner came to pick us up at the bus station and let me just put this out there—Chepatagonia is the BEST hostel in Puerto Madryn.  The people were so friendly and helpful and it was cleanest hostel I’ve ever seen!  I was basically dying from hunger when we arrived since I didn’t eat any of the bus food because it was practically jamón marinated in jamón with a side of jamón with jamón sauce and jamón juice for refreshments and jamón cookies for dessert.  Our hostel owner recommended a seafood restaurant a block away and it was DELICIOUS.  All the food was so fresh, I’m pretty sure it was caught five minutes before it was cooked.  We decided to splurge a bit (50 pesos each a.k.a $12) because we knew we wouldn’t eat a satisfying meal once we met up with Kaarin and Arielle since they were on a tight budget of $400. 

¡Mariscos ricos!
 
The next day we went on our first excursion to Península Valdés.  Absolutely incredible!  We saw all types of animals:  penguins, sea lions, ORCAS, foxes, armadillos, guanacos, and pandas (in my dreams)!  Our tour guide was telling us how the penguins were molting in order to prepare themselves for the upcoming winter season and that some of them had completely new coats while others were still in the process and therefore kind of ugly.  She was like, “Oh, yes, some of them will be very cute  but the ones that are molting will be having ‘private moments’ and don’t want to be seen!”  I started BUSTING UP because I thought of the scene in Mean Girls where Damien is about to sing the Christina Aguilera song and he’s says, “Don’t look at me!”  all dramatically and I imagined a penguin doing the same thing and couldn’t control my laughter.  

Private moment:


We saw it eat a penguin!  Then our tour guide told us that orcas can live from 60-90 years in the wild, but only around 10 in captivity because of all the stress they get from their performances and their little space to swim.  Moral of the story:  HUMANS SUCK.


He was singing for us:


I’ll be the hound to your fox:


Guanacos, from the camel family!

The following day we (Phoebe, two Argentine girls, and our tour-guide/driver, Eloid) went to Punta Tombo, the natural habitat for approximately 450-800,000 (depending on the time of year) Magellanic Penguins.  I can’t begin to describe how incredible it was to walking among all these penguins!  They were adorable.  They were waddling all over the place and they kept having to turn their heads back and forth to look at us because their eyes on the sides of their heads.  Some of them were making this strange sort of honking noise which Phoebe and I imitated at random during the rest of the trip.  We have a bunch of videos of the penguins being cute, but I think the best video is that of a penguin trying to bite me and not let me walk past it and me freaking out and asking Phoebe to distract it.  

We searched long and hard, but we finally found Kaarin’s replacement:


Flapping our wings in unison:


After our religious penguin experience we went to get tea in a Welsh town called Gaiman.  The Patagonian region of Argentina has a lot of Welsh influence and therefore there are a bunch of cute little towns with teahouses.  Phoebe, las chicas Argentinas, Eloid and I enjoyed a little tea party comprised of cakes, sandwiches, and lots of warm tea which was welcome on such a windy Patagonian fall day.  The Argentines were really friendly (Eloid told me that I was a positive person because I wasn’t disappointed when he told us that we couldn’t see dolphins) and our conversation started off with gay rights and ended with them teaching us more Lunfardo (slang specific to Buenos Aires that started off in the jails and brothels but is now common with all Porteños).

LUNFARDO 101 PARA VOS:
Cucharita: spooning
Se paró/me calenté: I’m horny
Darme mesita caballito: to have sex (The literal translation is “Give me a ride, little horse”…Kind of wish I was kidding)
Pelotudo: shit for brains
Pendejo: asshole (The formal translation is public hair, according to Eloid)
¡Qué copado!: Great!

OM NOM NOM:


We headed back to our hostel and got ready for our 9 hour bus ride to Esquel, expected arrival time around 6 AM.  Esquel.  How do I begin to describe Esquel?  I HATE ESQUEL.  It’s a town that thinks it’s a city but it is more like a circle of hell and it only remains in existence because hikers need a place to stay because there is a huge hiking scene there (El Parque Nacional de los Alceres is very close).  Anyway, Phoebe and I get off the bus and it is FREEZING.  We’ve been in beautiful Buenos Aires weather since February so this concept of being cold is foreign and unwelcoming.  We decided to stay in the bus station until the sun rose and ended up sitting across from these TERRIFYING group of teenagers/monsters.  They were definitely from the llanos and possibly hadn’t showered in a few weeks ‘cause they looked like they were matted with dirt.  They kept staring at us and I was convinced that they were creating an elaborate plot to rob us.  Thankfully they went away, but our luck didn’t improve because some random guy working at the station noticed that we stole a blanket from the bus and made us give it back.  We continued to sit in the frigid weather until the sun rose AT NINE IN THE MORNING.  Even the sun hates Esquel!  

We went to our hostel where we were greeted by Federico, the hostel owner.  He gave us a pamphlet for cool things to do in Esquel (#1 on the list:  Leave Esquel #2: Commit suicide #3: Pray that a puma attacks you) and I’m pretty sure Federico wrote it because he described himself as the “go-to guy for all the cool things to do” which is a JOKE because Fede (as we affectionately called him) was a balding forty-something year old man who spent all his time on MSN chat and possibly chat-rouletting. Let’s put it this way: Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance” was playing on blast when we walked in so I don’t want to KNOW what Fede considers to be “cool” because it will probably be a nightmare.  

Phoebe and I decided to nap until Kaarin and Arielle arrived from El Bolsón.  They called to tell us that they decided to hitch-hike to Esquel and Phoebe and I were terrified that they would be kidnapped, raped, murdered, and their bodies would be left in the Patagonian wilderness for the wild foxes to devour.  Phoebe and I tried to find food and we went to about six different restaurants until we could find one that was open.  I don’t CARE that it was Easter and everyone was in Church praying.  Would Jesus want two girls to starve to death because the citizen of a crap town decided not to go to work?  I DON’T THINK SO.  We finally found some food and when we went back to the hostel, Arielle and Kaarin had arrived.  We chatted for a bit, then went to the grocery store to buy food for our dinner that night.  We cooked enough pasta to “feed 12 firemen” as Kaarin phrased it.  We offered some to Fede, but he graciously declined and told us that he was leaving to go to festejar and wouldn’t be back until 2 AM.  We went to bed early because we were going hiking the next day, but our room smelled a lot like gas and we were afraid we were going to die in our sleep.  We wrote Fede a note for when he got back from his wild night of Esquel partying.  They next day he was like, “I checked your room, there actually WAS a gas leak!  Good thing you didn’t die, that would’ve been crazy!”  Really, Fede?  I would think walking into a room with four dead people would be the norm in Esquel.  Because it sucks.  

Anyway, we took a bus up to El Parque Nacional de Los Alceres to go on our hike.  It was FREEZING.  We wanted to see El Abuelo, a tree that—to quote Arielle—is “older than Jesus” but unfortunately it was too far away to hike in one day.  We decided to do a medium trail.  In Argentina they’re not really good with labeling the trails because the medium trail was actually a suicidal trail.  Arielle is from Colorado so she really good at nature things and Kaarin’s walking pace is equivalent to a death march so we were basically running up and down the mountains.  I’ve never felt closer to death and kept thinking to myself, “Damnit, I should’ve gone to Río de Janeiro, I could’ve been on a beach right now!  Why, why, WHY?!”  I’m not going to lie:  The scenery was breathtaking.  We had some great panoramic views and hike to a waterfall.  Four hours later, I felt like my legs were going to break off of my body.  We wanted to go to a café or somewhere to eat, but everything on the mountain was closed.  We ended up finding a little kiosko that doubled as a triangle house.  The lady who ran the kiosko was quite far the craziest person I have ever met.  She was probably 90 years old, blind in one eye, and I think we were her first customers in weeks.  She had one loaf of bread and six popsicles and kept yelling things like “¡Soy panaderia! ¡Soy heladeria!  ¡Tengo todo!” (I’m a bakery!  I’m an ice cream store!  I have everything!).  We bought some chocolate milk and then ran away from her.  We headed to the hostel and said tearful goodbyes to Fede and took a bus to Trevelin, a Welsh town 40 minutes away from EsqHELL.  

Absolutely stunning views:




Leave me to die, please, it’ll be easier this way:


Trevelin was adorable.  We stayed at a hostel called La Casaverde and it was amazing.  It was more like a cabin and it only had a few rooms, so we had a massive room with our own shower.  The next day we explored the town, went to a museum, sat by the river, had another Welsh tea party, and went to the “Malacara,” a woman that was going to tell us stories about how the Welsh influenced parts of Patagonia.  The sign said that it would open at 3 PM so we frolicked through fields of flowers and found an adorable kitten that I decided to name Facundo and a dog that was embodied by the spirit of a drunk old man because it couldn’t walk straight and kept falling onto us.  After about two hours a man came up to us and asked us what we were doing playing with his animals.  We said that we were waiting for the Malacara to tell us a story.  He looked at us really confused and said that the Malacara was a horse that died a long time ago and that they were closed and that we should leave, so hurried off of this man’s property before he summoned the spirit of the Malacara and we were trampled to death by a horse ghost.

Facundo!


He was hunting in the llano:


Kaarin loved Facundo, too:


But not as much as I loved him!  I call this photo “Crazy Cat Lady: The Youthful Years”:


Nature girl takes a quick break:


O HAI HOW R U:


“Oh, my God, he’s like a drunk old man!” -Arielle:


Black & White Alfajors = proof that Argentina is the greatest country in the world:


Meerko and Fidel, the two sons of the hostel owner, invited us to eat dinner with them and some of their friends.  Meerko made us some delicious pizza and we all drank beer and had a great time.  They actually did our laundry for us while we were gone and it was drying in Fidel’s room so when we went to pick it up I kept messing with him and picking up random pieces underwear and saying things like, “Fidel, is this your bright turquoise thong?  Are you sure?  It looks like something you’d wear.”  He didn’t really understand that I was being sarcastic and was kept saying, “No! I swear it’s not mine!  I swear!”  

Later they suggested that we come with them to a bar to festejar más.  Where was the bar?  ESQUEL.  Why, Universe, why?  What have I done to you?!  Phoebe tried to drink the group of Argentine girls we were with under the table which is impossible because Argentines have been drinking since the second grade.  She failed and then they kept ordering beers and in the end when everyone split the check, they ended up paying so much more because of histéricas (what I call Argentine girls.  It’s a scientific fact that all girls are capable of being out of their minds, but Argentine girls are a whole new level of crazy).  Fidel and Meerko were flirting hardcore with Kaarin and Phoebe so Arielle and I took the role of the surly, awkward wall-flowers.  WOMP.    When we got back, Arielle and I napped for a few hours and then woke up at the crack of dawn to catch our bus to Bariloche.  

Bariloche is another nature-esque town very close to Chile.  It’s a lot more touristy than Esquel or Trevelin, but it was the closest thing we’d seen to a city since leaving Buenos Aires.  We asked the hostel workers what they suggested to do and they said to eat chocolate and ice cream.  Bariloche should change it’s name to Barilochocolate because it had more chocolate than people.  And it was DELICIOUS.  We decided on what excursions we wanted to go on the next day: circuito chico bike trail for Arielle and Phoebe, horseback riding for me and Kaarin.  I went to the bank to get some money and I got a receipt for 700 pesos…but no cash.  I spent a few minutes trying to explain over the phone to the bank what happened, but every time they transferred my call, the phone would disconnect.  I was trying to remain calm, but 700 pesos is A LOT of money, and if the bank was going to make it difficult, I was basically screwed finance-wise.  I emailed my dad and updated him on what had happened and then emailed my bank and hoped to Baby Jesus, Moses, Allah, Harry Potter and all other things holy that I’d get my money back.

Chocolate TO THE DOME:


The next morning the four of us went to the bank and I’m so impressed with how nice and professional they were.  The guy told me that he’d check the ATM and if my money was there he’d give it to me tomorrow, and if not, they’d wire it into my account in a week or so.  Phew!  With this wonderful information, Kaarin and I went on our horseback riding excursion.  SO MUCH FUN!  It was just us and our guide Hugo riding up a mountain, through a forest, and we even went into a lake.  Everything was gorgeous.  My horse, Indio (of course they named the only brown horse “Indian”)  was a bit insoportable because every five seconds he would try to eat a plant and when he wasn’t eating, he was trying to gallop.  It was kind of hard to control him and since it was my first time horseback riding, I didn’t feel like letting him gallop and then having me fall off and die.  I kept having say, “¡Indio, basta!” I could tell he kind of hated me for not letting him run free, but así es la vida, no me importa.  He forgave me when I have him an apple at the end.  All the other horses saw the apples and before I knew it I was surrounded by them and now I know that hungry horses is right under Sharks with legs, Tree-people, and shadow people under my list of nightmare situations.  I ended up throwing the apple and yelling, “Take it!  Take it!  I don’t want it anymore!  Leave me alone!” and Kaarin was laughing at how scared I was.  

Indio y yo:


Human-Horse relations are improving:


The next day we woke up and all of us we’re like “NO, EVERYTHING HURTS, MUST DIE NOW!”  Arielle and Phoebe somehow had the will to go on another hike, but Kaarin and I were worn out from horseback riding and decided to “do some homework” which actually meant “buy a lot of chocolate, drink coffee, and laugh at the thought of Arielle and Phoebe trekking up a mountain.”  We bought helado when Phoebe and Arielle came back, then we packed our stuff and got ready for our 22 hour bus ride back to the city the next day.  

Our bus ride was definitely a circle of hell.  Our entertainment was the T-Pain application on Phoebe’s iPhone (I recorded a few songs about our trip, I’m pretty sure I’m gonna go far with them) and watching a concert series of a 30 person band singing songs like “Tease me, Please me” and other horrifyingly hilarious musical numbers.  We had a baby that would not stop screaming during the night and in front of me and Phoebe a man was snoring so loudly that he made the baby’s scream sound like a lullaby.  I’m very irrational when I wake up so I thought it was a great idea to kick his hand repeatedly until he stopped snoring.  He woke up very startled but I pretended to be asleep.  We finally arrived into beautiful Buenos Aires at around 11 AM and I was ecstatic to be back.  Kaarin, Phoebe, and I were starving so we went to our favorite restaurant, Cumaná.  EMPANADAS DE LOMO PICANTE, ATÚN, Y CHOCLO TO THE DOME.  When I went home my host-mom Cristina told me how much she missed me and I gave her a box of chocolates I bought for her from Bariloche and told her that the feeling was a 100% mutual.  

 What a fantastic 10 days.  More nature than I thought I was capable of handling and I couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to travel with.  I missed Buenos Aires so much, it’s definitely the best to be back home.