Sweet Sweet Money
If you haven't read it already read my entry entitled Money Money Money. This is the sequel I didn't know I'd make.
I load up my plastic tray with an array of meats, salad and potato and rice salads. It's so convenient when travelling to eat here and there is plenty of choice. I remember these "buffets by weight" from Brazil in 2007 and it seems they have become popular all over Argentina. They might have even had them back in 2007 - it's just we didn't eat at one back then.
I get to the till and the -sweet- lady asks if I am eating in or taking out and when I mention I'll be eating out since I'm taking the bus to Buenos Aires, she smiles. [The sweet will take on another meaning shortly - stick with it]
<<¿te ha gustado Iguazu?>>
<<mucho>> I reply.
Not quite the ultimate selfie.
My post the day before yesterday was scathing towards the invasion of the selfie at the falls but it is also true that I arrived at 10.30AM - at the height of the tourist rush - and I shall never forget that moment - so many bodies surged forwards towards the falls. And then the irony of the plastic beaker with a logo saying "jungle" on it, dangled perilously on the edge of the largest waterfall in the world in the middle of the jungle. However, a Dutch girl at the hostel, also travelling on her own, told me that she had stood at the Devil's Throat for one full hour later on in the day - so if you go take her advice - avoid the selfie invasion and go late on in the day for a more intimate experience with the falls.
Small change
The lady wraps my tray in cellophane to protect it whereever I may be taking it and places it carefully onto the scale.
<<ciento setenta y tres pesos>> she tells me. She doesn't bother to tell me how many <<centavos>> it is. I am curious so look at the computer screen. Well done if you worked out the price correctly - It's one hundred and seventy three pesos and oh yeah - fourteen centavos.
I smile and relate to her how much I have enjoyed my stay in iguazu and that <<me da pena dejar Iguazu>>. And it's true - my hostel has been fantastic and despite what you might be thinking about my visit to the falls - I really have enjoyed it here. There were times on the trails where I was on my own and then was glad to see fellow tourists. For instance, the time a hiss made me look down and I jumped back; a snake had crossed my path - or had I crossed its path?
The lady smiles again and asks where I'm from. When I tell her I am from the UK she smiles again, surprised <<lejos>> she smiles again <<hablas muy bien español>>
I hand her two, hundred peso notes, Evita's face is prominently displayed on them.
She hands me back my change. Two worn 10 peso notes, a relatively fresh 5 peso note and then she rummages around in her till.
In her hand she gives me the small change from the till. In the small, grooved trays where the 1 and 2 peso coins would be is a handful of what in the UK would be toffees, humbugs, rhubarb and custards, lemon sherbets and Pontefract cakes.
She chooses some for me, still smiling, counts them out for me and pops them into my hand.
Un peso
Dos pesos.
<<así>> she announces, and smiles again.
What happens if I don't like rhubarb and custard?
I load up my plastic tray with an array of meats, salad and potato and rice salads. It's so convenient when travelling to eat here and there is plenty of choice. I remember these "buffets by weight" from Brazil in 2007 and it seems they have become popular all over Argentina. They might have even had them back in 2007 - it's just we didn't eat at one back then.
I get to the till and the -sweet- lady asks if I am eating in or taking out and when I mention I'll be eating out since I'm taking the bus to Buenos Aires, she smiles. [The sweet will take on another meaning shortly - stick with it]
<<¿te ha gustado Iguazu?>>
<<mucho>> I reply.
Not quite the ultimate selfie.
My post the day before yesterday was scathing towards the invasion of the selfie at the falls but it is also true that I arrived at 10.30AM - at the height of the tourist rush - and I shall never forget that moment - so many bodies surged forwards towards the falls. And then the irony of the plastic beaker with a logo saying "jungle" on it, dangled perilously on the edge of the largest waterfall in the world in the middle of the jungle. However, a Dutch girl at the hostel, also travelling on her own, told me that she had stood at the Devil's Throat for one full hour later on in the day - so if you go take her advice - avoid the selfie invasion and go late on in the day for a more intimate experience with the falls.
Small change
The lady wraps my tray in cellophane to protect it whereever I may be taking it and places it carefully onto the scale.
<<ciento setenta y tres pesos>> she tells me. She doesn't bother to tell me how many <<centavos>> it is. I am curious so look at the computer screen. Well done if you worked out the price correctly - It's one hundred and seventy three pesos and oh yeah - fourteen centavos.
I smile and relate to her how much I have enjoyed my stay in iguazu and that <<me da pena dejar Iguazu>>. And it's true - my hostel has been fantastic and despite what you might be thinking about my visit to the falls - I really have enjoyed it here. There were times on the trails where I was on my own and then was glad to see fellow tourists. For instance, the time a hiss made me look down and I jumped back; a snake had crossed my path - or had I crossed its path?
The lady smiles again and asks where I'm from. When I tell her I am from the UK she smiles again, surprised <<lejos>> she smiles again <<hablas muy bien español>>
I hand her two, hundred peso notes, Evita's face is prominently displayed on them.
She hands me back my change. Two worn 10 peso notes, a relatively fresh 5 peso note and then she rummages around in her till.
In her hand she gives me the small change from the till. In the small, grooved trays where the 1 and 2 peso coins would be is a handful of what in the UK would be toffees, humbugs, rhubarb and custards, lemon sherbets and Pontefract cakes.
She chooses some for me, still smiling, counts them out for me and pops them into my hand.
Un peso
Dos pesos.
<<así>> she announces, and smiles again.
What happens if I don't like rhubarb and custard?
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