Travel off the beaten track and experience

I’m sitting on the bottom bunk of my hostel in El Calafate, household of the famous Perito Moreno Glacier, and exhausted from a days journey by bus from El Bolson, a tiny hippie-town nestled in the Andes. What was exhausting was not the 26 hours spent in a barely reclinable seat, but that there had been no stops to stretch my legs nor meals given to ease hunger. Travelers beware of Taqsa, the only bus organization that runs from Bariloche through El Bolson to El Calafate without taking the infamous grueling, gravel road and “ultimate experience” that is Ruta 40. Personally, Taqsa did not offer a significantly far more comfortable ride. Nonetheless, despite what I was told, El Calafate is all the desolate beauty that a single conjures when considering of Patagonia. Desert, mountains, a modest lake in which flamingos nibble, and of course glaciers, which we are saving for tomorrow. I wish I could write far more, but the sheer power needed to handle this French keyboard (my new travel...

What occurred to day 4 you ask? Well, I actually did practically nothing of note, or at least absolutely nothing that was so important that I wanted to weblog about it. I went to this giant outdoors mall with a couple men and women from Germany where we shopped for footwear in about a hundred diverse little shoe stores, each and every selling the precisely similar footwear. Then the rest of the day was spent arranging travel arrangements, choosing up a handful of souvenirs, and ultimately watching “In The Name Of The Father” back at the hotel with an Australian, an Englishman, and an Irishman. We virtually had the entire British Commonwealth covered. Wonderful movie although, I wasn’t expecting to come all the way to Colombia to find out a new-discovered interest in the Northern Ireland conflict. Anyways, immediately after almost absolutely everyone I met and spoke with (both in English and in broken Spanish) I took their tips and headed to Medellin. It genuinely is ...