Surprises

I have already had a few surprises on this trip.  The BBC warned us that Friday was to be the busiest travel day of the year, and we should leave plenty of extra time to get to the airport.  To someone like me who has an overactive punctuality gene, that warning had me want to leave 2 days early.  Fortunately, Richard was driving me to the airport and he has a well established “just in time” gene.  It transpired that traffic wasn’t at all bad, and I arrived at Heathrow Terminal 3 just four hours early only to find that check-in didn’t open for another hour. I was just fine with that, having, in my mind at least, just narrowly avoided missing my flight.

I was surprised that the British Airways flight departed from T3 as T5 is a fully dedicated BA terminal. Not sure why, but it was a happy discovery as T3 is far less crowded and an altogether easier experience.  Also T5 will eternally be imbued with the memory of travelling to NY with a friend who got pre-flight food poisoning from some bad pork ramen in the T5 Wagamama and spent the entire fight on the floor outside the toilet. 

Ours was the only BA flight departing from T3 at that time, and the queue for check-in, when it finally opened, was relatively short.  I was further surprised to discover that my flight to Buenos Aires went via Rio, with a 1.5 hour stop there for refuelling.  At no time in the booking or ticketing process was this disclosed. All things considered, it was certainly a better option than running out of fuel somewhere over Brazil.  The flight seemed interminable, although I did manage to grab a few hours of half-sleep, gratefully free of any “Snakes on a Plane or ‘“Alive”-type nightmares. I never used to be an anxious traveller, and it is really pissing me off that I seem to have become one. I herby vow to stop that. Immediately. I was sat next to an absolutely charming young Argentinian woman who now lives in London.  She is a copywriter who mostly works on blogs, and she kindly explained the difference between a copywriter and content creator but, being old, I still don’t really understand. 

The Buenos Aires airport is clean, modern and very easy to navigate. The queue for immigration was long and predominantly comprised of pension-aged couples travelling to Argentina to join a cruise, possibly to Antarctica.  Let me say categorically that Sadie and I are NOT going on a cruise. We are going on an expedition.  More on this in a future blog, but you could definitely tell the difference between the cruise and the expedition clients standing in the queue. The immigration agent was cute, an adjective I have never used to describe either British or American immigration agents. He was also very polite when correcting my pronunciation of our hotel - Meen-yeh, not Mine. I was thrilled to see my luggage on the conveyer when I arrived.

This trip has presented the biggest packing challenge of my life.  Not only did I need to pack for huge range of climates and activities, internal flights are limited to 15KG for checked bags.  I spent months researching luggage options to identify the best light weight bags, before finally settling on an Eagle Creek rolling duffel that closely resembles a body bag but is remarkably light weight for wheeled luggage. I was thrilled that I managed to keep the total weight to 17 kg for the international flight, and I should be able easily to get that down to 15 kg with a bit of onion dressing and redistribution to my carryon rucksack. I plan to abandon some of my clothes post Antarctica and use the space to buy a pair of fabulous Argentinian boots that I can use to ride at our stay at the estancia later in the trip.

The next big surprise was Buenos Aires itself. I don’t know what I was expecting, but this wasn’t it. What a magnificent city! I love using the drive from the airport to get a first feel for a place, and  if first impressions are anything to go by, I will love it here. Wide avenues, beautiful architecture, numerous parks and lots and lots of adorable dogs. It has a very European feel to it, but it’s cleaner and the people are better dressed. 

Our hotel here is small, delightful and perfectly located in the trendy Palermo Soho district. My next surprise came when I realised that I had done a very stupid thing and brought with me only debit cards - no credit cards.  I know that hotels don’t take debit cards to use as deposits for extras, but I simply hadn’t thought about it. Rookie error, and I am no rookie. Grrr. Luckily, the hotel was very accommodating (no pun intended, but a good one nonetheless) and was able to key in the credit card number that I had stored on my phone. 

I’m here on my own until Sadie joins me later today (Sunday), and I was keen to take in as much of the town as possible.  My seat-mate had told me about a cool jazz club (Be-Bop) near my hotel so I booked a seat at the bar for a very reasonable $11.  Making this on-line booking is when I discovered I’d already lost one pair of the reading glasses I’d packed. Must have left them on the plane. Given that I seem to lose a pair daily at home, I’d thoughtfully packed a spare which I now can’t afford to lose. 

After a quick shower and change, I took off to explore Palermo. This totally hip neighbourhood is a kaleidoscope of bohemian charm, brimming with cobblestone streets, colourful murals and boutique shops that practically insist I exceed my future luggage weight limit. It is the perfect mix of arty chic and cosmopolitan consumerism.  I wandered around for a while before realising that it wasn’t just lack of sleep that was causing me to feel light-headed.  I hadn’t eaten in almost 24 hours.  As a life-long fat person who now dwells in a substantially smaller body, this was the biggest surprise of all - I had forgotten to eat. Trust me when I say that this has never happened before.  Luckily I was totally spoiled for choice with every type of cuisine on the planet well represented. Chat GPT made an excellent suggestion of a nearby pasta place where I had an terrific bowl of lamb-filled pasta in a rich gravy and a glass of wine. This set me back $US30.  Buenos Aires is not cheap, but gratefully many restaurants take debit cards. 

I strolled back to the hotel to rest a bit before heading to Bebop for the 10:30 show.  I woke up fully dressed at 3 AM having completely missed said show. Damn. Oh well, lesson learned always to set an alarm.  I put on my pj’s and slept again until 7.  The hotel breakfast was like hotel breakfasts everywhere, but with the delightful addition of dulce de leche which Argentina, like many other South American countries, claims as their own.  It is divine stirred into your morning yoghurt. It has dairy so it must be good for my bone density.

Sadie has landed safely, and I eagerly await her joining me here. I’m off to Western Union to change money, although I’m keen to find out if it is still possible to send a telegram.