Off the plane and through immigration, I had arrived at long last. That was about as much transiting as I had ever done and was very pleased to finally be arrived. I had this super useful sign to greet me.
The first challenge was to get myself into town. I could take an expensive taxi, a less expensive airport bus, or for only a dollar ride the local bus. I needed to have coins to pay for this, so I stood in line at the only exchange spot for 45 minutes. The bus took its sweet time getting there, and then it was another 2.5 hours before I was into the city. Time was not really an issue though, so I didn’t mind taking the slowest means of transport to save some money. While walking the streets I got my first meal.
Parker gave me the address of his school where I could find him, though he had a class or something. I sat down in the lobby for at least an hour before someone suggested that I check in the computer lab. Apparently he had been waiting for me just as long… Oops.
We walked over to his apartment where I got settled a bit, cleaned up, and then met the family once they came home. They knew I was coming of course and were all really nice, especially the mother.
Parker had a nice restaurant in mind where we could celebrate the occasion of our reunion together. He had binged here once before and knew that the food was good. They treated us to some mimosas while we waited for a table and once seated we each put in an order for seafood pasta. We had a nice time chatting between stuffing our faces and eventually went back home for some sleep.
For the next two days Parker had little to do for classes, but we made no grand plans. I was satisfied just to hang around town for a bit and to soak in life as an Argentine. At one point we were going to check out a botanical garden, but inclement weather got in the way. At another opportunity to do something, the jet lag got the better of me and I passed out. We did see a bunch of Argentine guards welcoming diplomats at a park, which was worth pausing to see.
One of the things we promised the host family was a homemade, American meal. Since Parker has no culinary skills, and I was without a familiar variety of ingredients, we only managed to eek out some french toast for them. They were kind enough to tell us it was delicious, but not having syrup basically us that ot was a lie. The dad opted to put salt on his, which I can’t imagine enhanced the meal in any way. Here we are, owning the kitchen.
This was all the excitement that we managed in the first couple of days, but I really enjoyed it. It was good to enjoy this new city with someone I knew at a much more humane pace. And for that weekend, we had made some slightly more adventurous plans to be looking forward to.