My last full day in Buenos Aires.
My original plan for today was to check out a gallery or a museum or two.
But all that changed when a friend put me in contact with a fellow who lives in BA so we made plans to get together in a place called Tigre.
First thing to do was to find the train station and get a ticket.
After much fumbling and bumbling I found the right ticket counter and got the right ticket for the right train. (There’s more to that story but I’m saving it for another time.)
These trains are past their best before date, no question. They heave and squeak and thud and rumble. But they do the job.
And they attract street people looking for a handout. Now, I’ve no clue what they were saying but it sounded like one long monologue. One fellow was blind – at least, that’s how he acted, white cane and the whole bit.
I got up and changed seats. Ended up sitting beside a sullen teenager who was throwing small balls of paper at her sister, sitting across from her.
I got up and changed seats again, then offered my seat to someone else.
Ended up in Tigre ahead of schedule and met Martin, the friend-of-a-friend.
Good guy. He suggested a boat ride along the river so we hopped on board a vessel and made our way upriver.
Martin was telling me about the area, like some houses that were originally in Chicago were transported to Tigre.
From there to a fancy-pants restaurant for lunch, then a quick tour of the area and then back downtown BA where he dropped me at my hotel.
Martin’s a good man. Glad to call him a friend now. He’s got an open invitation to Chez Morgan anytime he wants. Probably sometime around the next Toronto Rush concert.
End of Argentina with a heavy heart. So much to see and do that must wait for the next trip.
On to Peru, starting with a hotel pick up at – get this – 4:00 a.m.