The good, the bad, the ugly, and the very lovely

OK, there are already Facebook groups testifying to horror stories involving Buenos Aires taxi drivers, so I won't go into a rant about that.

But, first it's time to say good-bye to Bariloche, Alisa and Nate. After spending another day in Bariloche checking out the nooks and crannies I missed before, we hop on a bus to the airport. Alisa knows not to draw out long good-byes with me and they hop on the return bus back to Bariloche.

The check-in clerk takes advantage of my distracted mind and starts telling me I need to have an Argentinean passport because I am flying on a discounted ticket. I regain my wits about me and explain that I booked my tickets over the Internet and that there was no problem when I flew from BA to Bariloche. After a little drama (because my Spanish is pretty rudimentary) and intervention by his supervisor, my ticket and US passport are accepted but he needs to regain the upper hand so he decides that I can't carry on my roll-on bag even after I show that it's half-empty and can squish down. Oh, well, not a problem. I'm experienced at traveling with checked baggage now.

It's a packed flight with lot of cranky tots. Argentinean parents seem to have a high threshhold for letting their children wail on.

The Buenos Aires taxi driver decides to take me for a winding ride even though the B&B is just a short hop from the airport. When the meter starts going too high, I let him know in my very basic Spanish that the "official" at the airport told me that the ride would be less than 30 pesos. The driver said I must have misunderstood. No, no, I said. I understood very well confidently though I sound like a gringa. I can see on the map (as I waved the map to him) how close the hostel is from the airport. I didn't tell him that I'm inept at reading maps and, besides, the map I was waving was from Bariloche.

But, he got the picture anyway and we finally pull up to the hostel. He even knocked off a few pesos from fare after a little shouting match. I need to learn a few curses from Alisa (I don't think my calling him liar and a thief was very intimidating since I can't even roll my r's dramatically).

But, the little Bed & Breakfast is very cute. Even though it's in a relatively quiet part of town there are still the ubiquitous yapping guard dogs whose effectiveness is questionable since they bark constantly. But, I'm able to block it out partially with my NY-subway ear plugs.

I still manage to wake up early, grab some breakfast and start wandering around the Palermo section of BA. Palermo is very slow to wake up on Sunday mornings but it's a quaint section of town.

I seek out the Japanese garden and my camera doesn't stop. Each scene is prettier than the next.











Once Palermo wakes up, it has many Sunday crafts markets around each of its many squares, parks and traffic circles. There are lots of places to explore and get lost for this map-challenged reader.

But, alas, the day comes to an end and it's time to hop in another taxi. This time I decide I better take a fixed-price taxi and he even discounts the fare because neither of us had small change.

The Delta airlines check-in clerk hassles me because my passport doesn't have a stamp showing that I left Argentina even though there are other stamps showing that I entered Chile, left Chile and re-entered Argentina. So, I have to go to Immigration and plead my case. Just a tiresome bureaucracy but it gets done in time for me to trade in my left-over pesos for four bottles of Argentinean wine after the duty-free sales guy tells me that I can bring 6 bottles into the US duty free.

It's a packed flight with lots of babies, children and happy tour groups. But, eventually, everyone settles in for a long, overnight journey home.

The US Customs guy stops me and doesn't believe it when I told him that I didn't know that there was a one-bottle limit. Anyway, he rolls his eyes at me and waves me through telling me to stop playing innocent. Just as I start to protest (why would I lie?!!) then I get it -- he must hear that all the time.

Hmmm, will my illegal wine taste just a little better? Anyway, it's great to be back home where I am able to navigate without reading a map.

Thanks, Alisa and Nate, for sharing a wonderful slice of your life there with me!