Truly, being on vacation rox, and when I grow up I´m gonna be on vacation forever! It´s magical really. As soon as the school bell sounded on Friday, a dam burst forth from my leaden chest kinda Alien like and I started feeling all Julie-Andrews giddy, spinning and dancing in my living room later that night while stuffing my carryon to the gills with fake Advils, scarves, fluffy novels (such as Carl Hiaasen´s Skinny Dip), and the shortest platform shoes I could unearth from my closet. Where was I going? I´ve already arrived, dear readers, in El Calafate, Patagonia, where wide swathes of blue skies amply beckon, cozy artesanal chocolate shops litter the main drag, and the air feels so fucking fresh you even forget to admonish your teen for forgetting to pack his deodorant. El Calafate, home to one of the few advancing glaciers in the world (Al Gore´s exception), and we´re going trekking on it tomorrow morning. Wheee. I sure hope those crampons look hot with my fake hiking outfit. (Seriously, I own no pants so you can imagine the trainwreck appearance I have in store for my tour group.)
Even our flight on Aerolineas went unhitched. And I was so ready to bitch about delays, rude tudes, and third-world infrastructured aeroparque. Not even close. Everything went according to God´s plan. Even our hotel is as contrary to the Buenos Aires customer service (as in none) credo as you can divine. The staff here is bemusingly exemplary and get this--proactive in their job, seeking us out for talk of shuttle times and catered box lunches and internet access and why it´s not worth it to buy a VIP seat on Monday´s all-glaciers cruise and would you like another cup of cafe con leche delivered to your room and my shift is over so may I introduce you to the new guy? Anyone thinking of coming to earth´s end? Please stay at the Edenia and tell them theshortestfuse sent besos.
Dinner awaits, so more to come though it must be said--I really wish you were here.