Last night, a colleague suggested I take the bus home from work. Having not done this yet (the subway, although boiling hot, is quite quick and direct) I thought I would try it just for comforts sake. I guess I must take full blame for taking the bus in the wrong direction (although the driver did nod when I asked if it was going my way - in retrospect he was about as helpful as a ham sandwich at White Hart Lane)
My aforementioned colleague had said it takes about half an hour, so when that time had elapsed and we had just crossed a large river (since when do I live near a river, I thought) I decided to whip out the normally useless maps on the iphone (raising some eyebrows and maybe readying some sly hands on the bus) - only to be told I am now very far south of where I need to be. So, I got off the bus into what can only be described as a neighbourhood so dodgy I'm quite sure I saw Al Capone himself. Any taxis I could find gave me a funny look and refused to take me the 10 or so miles up north. Not one of them even had their 'free' light on.
So there I was - lost in a downtrodden area with my suit, laptop and iphone and only my hoodie to help me blend in., and then my headphones decided to break after 2 years of service - wonderful. A couple of wrong turns later, and I'm outside the deserted Racing football stadium; need I mention it was thundering and pouring with rain?
An hour later, I'd made it home (after a taxi driver rant on the price of bicycles, of all things) with something oddly approaching a smile on my face. OK, I'd lost most of my evening, but I'd also managed to see some real Buenos Aires life - it's moments like those which get the heart beating a bit faster and make you appreciate what you have a bit more (i.e. that I dont live there). Things could have been much worse - I could have been at home watching two Americans embarrass themselves with cheap jibes on TV.
Until next time.
C. Columbus.
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