it seems unthinkable to complain about my flip-flop blisters as I recall it was only yesterday that I was wearing a sweater. It´s the shadows among the buildings of Argentina´s capital that make it cold there. Here in Salvador da Bahia it´s the sun-warmed, colonial cobbleston that do just the opposite. I got here to the hostel last night around 10PM, delayed out of BsAs, and a couple of hours watching Portugal lost to Germany last night in the São Paulo airport. One thing about travel is, no matter how inexpensively one thinks s/he can live once in a city, it´s the trip to or from tha airport that hurts the most. SO yesterday morning i said goodbye to Tavo (the pic is from a show at Tango Porteno the night before) and the city, grabbed an expensive cab to the airport, and caught another expensive cab to the historic Pelourinho district in Salvador. The transport from the hostal, which I re-confirmed with them via email three times yesterday in light of flight changes, was not there. anyway the cab driver kicked ass, and got me here to my room (shared with two guys from Paris, one from Swizerland). The hostal is great, many crazy folks here. The best part is there´s no lingua franca, thank god. my goal is to avoid my own first language, so far so good. i HAVE been marked, however, as it is inevitable that some kid on the street here will run up to you the minute you emerge from the cab and tie a little ribbon around your wrist, effectively granting you three wishes. Hhhmmm. three wishes...more later
