So I stopped posting for a month, reasons for which most know about. I’m now going to attempt to back-date the final week or so, in anticipation of my return to South America on Thursday. So the events of the next few updates actually take place about a month earlier. Or to save confusion, please now set your clocks to July.
Final day in Iguazu, and we got up easily, having not much on the agenda. We put our bags in storage and headed for a walk around town, before immediately dashing inside as a torrential downpour worthy of the rainforest we were was suddenly upon us. Fortunately after a few minutes it eased, but being mildly nervous after the last surprise attack, caught a cab to Tres Fronteras where I’d walked to yesterday, as the other guys figured it sounded decent.
At Tres Fronteras fortunately the air had cleared and my cameras had dried, so there was opportunity for better photographs than the day before. Picked up some postcards and ignored the tourist junk being thrust in front of us and walked back into town. Went for some lunch at Angelos, where we’d actually tried unsuccessfully to get some pisco sours on Saturday night. It’s poor that a week on I can’t really remember the food, but there’s every chance there may have been some steak in there somewhere.
We had a couple of hours to kill afterwards and not really having much else we wanted to cross off, we finally had a chance to play some pool back at the hostel – kids had been taking over it ever since we’d been there and I’d been itching for a game or two. Before long however it was time to head to the airport. Now we joke about it, but we all still fully expected the flight to Buenos Aires to be late, which would be interesting as we had a connecting flight to Salta – although we’d been assured it was the same plane so we’d be ok. Anyway, as expected when we reached the airport it was delayed several hours, so much so in fact that we jumped planes to an ‘earlier’ plane – the noon plane which finally left around 7pm!
We hit the ground running in Buenos Aires’ Jorge Newberry airport – familiar territory to us now, and headed for the noticeboards to look for flight 2460 to see just how long that was delayeed for. Oddly, it wasn’t even on the board. There wasn’t a single flight to Salta until 6.30am the next morning. Worryingly, almost every other flight on the board was either delayed or cancelled. We headed downstairs and thankfully thought to check for our bags – despite them being routed to Salta, they were just chucked out at Buenos Aires, because as Blair and I went and found out soon enough while Amal sorted the bags – weather had caused massive problems and our flight was in fact cancelled.
Grudgingly Blair and I joined the massive queue of people at the ticket office, while Amal attempted to call Aerolineas Argentinas. While we got on Argentinian television, Amal returned with the news that we could only get tickets for a flight on Sunday – six days later! We decided to head to Hostel Sol, our former Buenos Aires abode, and see what they could tell us in the morning.
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