Buenos Aires is terrifying. The grocery stores that sell junk food and beer, that you find at every corner, are fenced with iron bars. You buy things through the fence. Like it’s Baghdad, or Los Angeles or something. We walked briskly to the cheap-hostel-in-a-dodgy-neighborhood that Cranky had managed to find in ten minutes of frantic street-interneting on an open wifi on a square full of street kids that were sizing up our backpacks. Be not welcome.
The kids at the hostel told us which streets to avoid, and we felt a bit more confident. But still. What kind of a fucked up place needs iron bars on grocery stores?
We stayed a few days. I got to see a lot of the place because I was out with Cranky, touristing around, all day. Weirdo mostly stayed at the hostel. He was finishing writing a book and that makes him a bit monomaniac. Though he didn’t get out much, he still managed to lose his camera, so the graphic quality of this blog is going to suffer quite a bit in the future.
After a few non-remarquable days. We caught the ferry to Uruguay. Few, good bye Argentina, not auf wiedersehen. Here we come Uruguay. New country, new story.