Los Antiguos and the end of stage one…>>

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Wait a moment, I will join you soon!
I sat down waiting and watching a lawn-mower demonstration. Eduardo Padilla, a Chilean working in Argentina , seems to be one of those guys who does and sells a bit of everything. He is the hostal owner. Finally the contraption gets inside the trunk of the client's jeep: you'll pay me later. Godspeed. At last it's my turn. He guides me to the dorm, the kitchen, the showers. He delivers the tour mechanically, repeating instructions known by heart. "Twenty-four hour heating" are the words I retain more joyfully. Apparently there is no such thing as summer here in Patagonia ...

 In the morning I sleep and write, waiting for a better light to go out and explore Los Antiguos. I enjoy the peace and quiet reigning over the bunk-bed ranks. A short while ago, there was a general mayhem, with a hasty stuffing of backpacks, a last peak under the bed, in the shower, is anything left behind? Let's go, the bus won't wait. The rumour was that next day's crossing was cancelled. Almost everybody left. At the time, I had no clue which crossing that was about, but assumed it was important.

Text and photos ready, I go out to see what kind of fortune I will have Internet-wise. I download my mail with some trouble, send the text and despair with the uploading of the first photo. Three attempts. No way. Maybe later, who knows. Very frequently this is an exasperating routine in these small villages. Creating the content takes some time, but sending it is often the worst ...
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Leia na íntegra esta e outras crónicas no livro BuenaYork!