An ovation with more carnage.

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Flag of Argentina  ,
Sunday, December 19, 2010

Whenever I have had a rough night I wake up early without the need of an alarm. Today was no different. The first thing was to clean the upchuck and thankfully it was just the vodka with saliva. Next, I showered and changed clothers. After a hearty feast with a lot of orange juice and a few laughs/cheeky looks, I returned to bed.


In addition to a pounding headache, sunlight burned through my eyes giving me intense
pain. So for the time being I pulled the blanket over my head but was totally awake. Last nights' activities were slowly being pieced together when two of my room mates entered the room. They began to talk about me not realizing I was not asleep. They added the following: "he is going around like he isn’t embarrassed" and "bet you he is a lightweight".  What to conclude from those comments is that the Englishman and Canadian are ‘helmets’. (If you are unfamiliar with that term, research it and  you may find their pictures under the caption). It took a lot for me not
to dress them down but as I would need to raise my voice, it would not help in my present condition.



I stayed in bed for at least an hour until I heard Mike’s voice. He was asking Wendy (the owner) if I was about after hearing about my escapades. I got out of bed and caught up with him slowly as he was about to leave. With that in mind he tentatively asked if I wanted to head out but figured I needed rest. He was surprised when I told him to hang on whilst I put my trainers on. We headed to San Telmo for the Sunday market. The walk was about thirty minutes and surprisingly coupled with the blazing sun my hangover disappeared. I wondered if Charlie Sheen had my powers of recovery? Then again, he destroys himself a lot more and frequently than I do. On the way there we stopped at a supermarket for some much needed water. Whilst waiting for Mike, I noticed a lot of fresh blood on the pavement and questioned how safe we were staying here. Thankfully we departed soon after a minor hiccup and resumed the walk.





Once we got there the people were out in droves. This was ten times worse than shopping in the Florida district. It was jam packed with hundreds and hundreds of people. Stall after stall there were people. I took two hours to see most of it. We saw Jose and his unfriendly pal at Plaza Dorrego and we stopped for a chat. Talk was of my antics and how they had moved to a dorm room containing no windows. (Even if money was tight I noted not to do that. No need to sample prison life). The unfriendly dude was looking for a chick he met previously but had no contact details for her. Judging by his cold responses and rudeness I understood her reluctance. The only other point of interest was when I asked a lady on another table to take a picture of us. Unsurprisingly there was only one person who objected. I proceeded nevertheless.





We resumed or tour. Sellers would display everything from clothing, flags, leather works, paintings, food, drink, records, hats to even wall plugs. I was interested in some of the artwork and bought some leather etchings of the South American map. One was for myself and I feel good vibes every time I look at it. After hitting all fours corners of the market including Pasaje San Lorenzo, we headed back.





At the hostel I bought a soft drink and headed to the roof to collect my thoughts. As I made the final steps up there, a round of applause greeted me. As most nights, the entire hostel of twenty people were up there. The applause and laughter lasted a while, although there was not a standing ovation. The volume increased as I asked and took questions and of my sincerity of not remembering much. It was then I was told Chris was with me in the cab; I was oblivious to the fact. How I was carried arm in arm to my room, how Harry and company took my trainers off and tucked me in bed. I sat down with them all with a sense of accomplishment rather than embarrassment. 

In the evening we once again went out in a big group to dine. Another steak was ordered whilst yet more red wine was shared. My taste buds were treated one more time. After the meal I figured I would head for an urgent full night’s sleep. This plan was altered when Josh (new American arrival) wanted to go clubbing. He asked if anyone wanted to accompany him. One by one, everyone decided on a night of sleep. My answer after a lengthy delay was yes. Not my best idea but I was throwing caution to the wind. A provision was that I needed some caffeine to keep me up. He wisely agreed.



Back at the hostel I consumed two cans of ‘Red Bull’ and that slowly gave me a bit more energy. Harry, his sister, another Australian traveller, and the English and Canadian guys previously mentioned, wanted to join us. As they had been out separately they needed to eat first. The suggestion was to exchange numbers with Harry’s sister. A good plan as she was not hard on the eye. Therefore we decided to meet in the Kika nightclub.

The club consisted of one large room with a smaller room behind it. Feeling tired I ordered a ‘Speed’ and vodka. The former is an energy drink and we did get a kick out of its name, including posing for pictures can in hand. Whilst at the bar Josh had offered me a cigarette. As a non smoker I am not sure what came over me as I accepted. During its’ duration it did nothing for me.

Later I remember being at the bar and spotting three chicks who were ten feet away. What stands in my memory was that one of them was feeling another’s breasts. I am not complaining but they should have got a profession in to make an impartial decision. If you are unsure of who would be the best suited for this job, quit reading. They saw me as they were in the middle of it. I coolly threw a thumbs up and then a thumbs down coupled with a shrug of my shoulders. The entire group laughed. A while later, I approached them and none of them spoke English. Picking up chicks with a language barrier was going to be hard challenge. As my depth of Spanish was low and I did not want Josh trying to translate, I bowed out. Next time it would be different.

Tourist women on the other hand had no problem inspite of the language barrier. In fact a lot of them welcomed the lack of conversation and normal routines. It seemed like the local guys had to do very little work as the majority of women wanted to sample different things. I met an Irish girl later in my trip who confirmed my suspicions. She had a ‘good night’ with an Argentinian guy. She stated she had no knowledge of Spanish and the fellow had no English knowledge. Intrigued I enquired how he managed to charm her due to no common language. She stated he said "lets go to bed"; his only words. Hand delivered I thought and well done to the fellow.

My cell phone was having a reception problem and as I was expecting a text by Harry’s sister I needed to find reception. After moving around there was still no luck but switching it off and turning it on again, worked.  Strange but welcome. I got at text around 3 AM that they were in the club. We managed to find them after a few minutes and they informed me that they received free entries to Kika. This was because the restaurant took their orders but could not serve them. This was probably because it was too late to cook, serve and wait for them to finish. Apologetic the restaurant gave them VIP entrances free. Josh and I could not get to the VIP area which contained almost all the hot women in the club. There was no way around this problem until the English traveller in our group wanted to leave. Spotting an opportunity I asked for his wristband and got it. However Josh did not have one. Thinking several steps ahead I told Harry’s sister to hold his hand and pretend they were together. With this, the security fellow should ‘buy’ it. We walked to the entrance and including the Australian traveller we were all let in except for Josh. I pleaded to no avail. I stuck with Josh as did the rest. We made the best out of a dancefloor with around ninety per cent of guys. Sometimes the tide goes against you and you have to grin and bare it.


Harry’s sister was strange as she would only talk and dance with the Australian traveller. A little later they left and it did not fuss me. Josh spotted another three chicks. One of them captured his interest; I guess I had the wing man role. Yay! As they did not interest me in the slightest I figured be social and be a politician. With the latter I meant lie, smile and smile some more. My work was paying off as I got them all into a picture with Josh. Another tactic was to hesitate enough to get them closer to him by pretending I could not fit them all into the picture. Very wicked and cunning; don’t you love it? The ‘milf’ he wanted obliged. One of the chicks in question then took a picture with me in it. They look less than thrilled. Do I reassemble a Brazilian and do Argentinian chicks dislike them? Either way I distracted the other two for Josh to have some time to…….. They were kept at bay for a few minutes but sadly for Josh, they left soon. All that was left to do was dance. Just after 5 AM we left the club.

Another memorable taxi ride involved us stopping at a Petrol Station. The driver locked the doors as he left to fill up and pay. Even though there was daylight, my mind raced to whether we might get jumped. After a few minutes thankfully he returned. He did however keep the meter running even though we had stopped. We argued our case and he saw sense. Back home and back to the roof. We were the only two up there as it was now around 6 AM. We talked and smoked whilst watching the day begin. This was the end of my first week and I was drained.


If I have missed anyone’s contribution in getting me back home safely I do apologise. There is a lot missing from that night that I cannot recall. Chris and Henna I owe you a round of drinks and in return can I have my dignity back?

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