I love pretending I am one of Hemingway's characters from "The Sun also Rises", or even a lad from Henry Miller's Tropic of Cancer, living abroad and writing for money, or room and board, or whatever. The next four weeks will be spent doing just that; pretending, mostly, as the money and free time will be scant, but who am I to complain when said adventure brings me to the middle of the southern cone of South America? These are the Argentina journals.
This long day of travel to begin the globetrot comes after a restful weekend at Lake Shamineau, catching monster fish, working on the Greenland-style back scull in my kayak, and eating really good English toffee cookies with the family. It was a clear, sunny, 85-degree weekend. Mmmmm. Summer in MN is to be relished.
And now, here: the Quality Inn. Dulles International Airport. This little hotel in the middle of nowhere, near-ish to our dysfunctional District of Columbia, will be an afterthought tomorrow by this time, as our airplane will be somewhere over the coca fields of the northern Andes. Wednesday will mark the beginning of the River Plate urban safari. Be ready to have your pants tickled off by the anecdotal, travel essay version of crack cocaine that promises to follow...
