Bus to Bariloche

[Only 24 hours in the same seat, no stops, no big deal.]

So Saturday morning, woke up and rallied the crew (i.e. “pack faster!”, “remember all of your stuff”, “clean up the kitchen”, and “packs on and ROLL OUT”)

Geared up and went for a stroll across town to the Retiro bus station. My morning revelation: There are infinite smells in the city. Enough to keep one guessing for a lifetime. …I’ll pass.

Exhausted from our long week and ready to chill out and curl up on our semi-cama (super reclinable seats) on the double decker, bright yellow bus.

No more than 10 minutes into the drive and “Oh hey brown Atlantic Ocean! How you doin’?” Super terrible movies on repeat: Hachi, Amelia Earhart (both with Richard Gere)…then I fell asleep. Woke up when the kid behind me (like 3 years old) puked in the aisle and all down the stairs, right next to our group. Cool that no one cleaned up the nasty for an hour and faaaantastic, we’ve only been on the bus for four hours.

Read Siddhartha in full. Way deep. I pocketed a handfull of Hesse quotations, so if you’re looking for some pensive thought processing time, I’ll hook you up.

For dinner some questionable looking stuff (whatever, I ate it anyway)…although the Jello-like red liquid stuff I let be:

“Yo Ingmar, what’s this jello stuff taste like? Fruit punch?”

“Yea…with a thick layer on top and a hint of cult death.”

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