Don't cry for us Buenos Aires

Never could I have imagined that we would get an extra day in Buenos Aires. But rechecking our tickets confirmed just that. An unexpected 24 hours in my Argentina and we were clueless as to how we would savour it. Only the day before, we had exerted every shopping muscle available. The plans, lists and budgets came into play after an 8am appointment at the hair salon. It was all calmer now that we knew what we were hunting for. Come 4pm, weary feet up on Archie’s couch, we lay there comatose and surrounded by a plethora of bags and bargains. Today I could not bear to eyeball another jacket, dress or sale sign and McDonalds was the only shop I would step into.

Our finale took place at the home of Boca Juniors: La Bombonera stadium (meaning the Chocolate Box) in La Boca. A Catholic University was set to be up against the famous Boca Juniors in a fabulous display of Latin football. We had no idea that this was the venue renowned for vibrating as fans jumped in rhythm. While we warmed the empty, Chilean side’s seats, the home side’s fans partied in their supporting efforts with their stadium-shaking drumming and singing. After a failed attempt at an interview on a Spanish TV channel, an exhilarating 2:2 draw and Kirsten having to use a roof-less long-drop, we headed “home” to still more messages left at the hostel desk and a jolly farewell party.

The next morning, mid goodbye waves and 2 minutes down the road we erupted into tears. Perhaps an emotional overflow of the magic that we encountered on our first overseas trip, our debut taste of glorious freedom or maybe because we could not predict when we would again step foot onto this here land again. The only thing I could not will myself to like was mate, the natural tea made with dried yerba mate leaves and sipped with a silver straw. That aside, to this day, the mere mention of Buenos Aires invites goose bumps to my skin and a dance to my little heart.