So it's 11:40pm on a Sunday, and getting into the Argentinean swing of things I have just finished dinner and fancy an ice cream. So I ask the people at the hostel reception if they think that the ice cream shop will be open (have I mentioned how good the ice cream is here? Mascarpone like raspberry ripple, and coffee with real coffee beans, anyway...) and they say yeah sure. So I get down there at midnight expecting to find one bored attendant waiting to serve me, but no, of course not, this is Argentina, there are 5 year old kids playing in the play ground and a crowd of people all clamoring for ice creams. Kids! You should have been in bed! Like five hours ago!
It's easy to forget the incredible distances involved in moving from place to place in Argentina, even our first journey - 18 hours from Buenos Aires to Mendoza - seemed natural, the great buses help. Yesterday I went from the intense heat and sun and infinite flat scrub land of Puerto Madryn to the cold (thank God! It finally feels like Christmas) and beautiful mountainous lake district of Baraloche.
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