Journey to the End of the World

Probably since the first week I spent in Argentina, I knew that if I travelled nowhere else, I had to go to Ushuaia, the world's southern-most city. While the city's subtitle was compelling enough, the pictures I stumbled upon pushed my desire over the edge. Luckily, my friend Melanie had the same desire to travel to the end of the world, so this past week, Melanie and I skipped class (guilty) and spent four days in the most naturally beautiful places I have visited.

We took an early morning flight which dropped us off in Ushuaia in the early afternoon on Tuesday. It was a perfectly clear day for flying giving me an aerial taste of what I would soon be exploring. My heart was leaping up and down as I tried to maintain my composure in my seat. I imagined my heart looked something like the heart stick figures my mom likes to draw, but this one would've been jumping high in the air. I don't think I get visibly excited very often, but this was definitely one of those moments. We flew in over the Andes, which have left gaps for crystal clear lakes and ocean water. I was a little fearful of the small runway we had to land on; there was only so much concrete before the water took ownership again. But our pilot knew what he was doing, and placed us safely on the ground. Roughly 15 minutes after landing, Melanie and I had grabbed our baggage and were hopping in a taxi to our hostel (take that, American air travel!).

We made our home at the Freestyle "backpackers" Hostel. I believe this is a relatively new hostel, but everything about it was great! The facilities were extremely clean, the bathrooms had "cozy" lighting, there were heated floors, breakfast every morning, hot drinks all day, and plenty of space to hang out and meet other travelers. The upstairs lounge also had an incredible view of the port that was perfect for watching the sunset. On our first day, Melanie and I met Marion. Marion is from France, but is living and studying in Buenos Aires for a few months. As we were conveniently in the same room, we hung out with her a lot. Although she could speak English, it was a lot easier for her to speak Spanish, and of course Melanie and I need to practice more Spanish so we spoke a common second language for the majority of the weekend. A part from Marion, we met travelers from Brazil, Israel, Spain, Australia, San Francisco, and other parts of Buenos Aires. I love the cultural experience hostel stays bring and I am looking forward to seeing some of my new friends again!

As we still had a good half of a day left, one of the hostel workers (we call him "E-Man") suggested that we go on the penguin tour. Originally on the list for the following day, we took his advice and headed down to town square to sign up for the tour. We arrived in perfect time to jump on the bus that then drove about an hour away. If you've never experienced an off-road trip in a bus, I don't recommend it. The majority of the hour we spent driving was over an unpaved, rocky road, which you would think drivers would be more cautious over. Not this driver. But I guess thats all a part of the experience?

We took several stops before actually seeing penguins, which was great in curbing my car sickness. The first stop was a gorgeous lake overlook giving us a view of Chile far across the water. The second stop was merely so we could take pictures of the very interesting looking Flag Trees. At first glance, I thought these had just been damaged from too much wind in one direction, but it turns out that is just how they grow. Our next stop was at a whale boneyard, more or less. Basically, this company (run by volunteers) collects whale and dolphin carcasses and cleans them up to eventually be sold to companies and scientists for studying. Because this particular company does everything naturally, the process to cleaning one animal can take multiple years. First, they must decompose it until it reaches a skeletal form. Then, they soak the bones in rainwater and eventually boil them to get a little more fat off of them. In the end, several workers work by hand to scrap away the remaining flesh parts (this was a really smelly part of the tour). In the end, all the pieces are strewn together to recreate the complete skeletal body. This was definitely a line of work that I have never looked in to. To showcase their work, this particular company also had a small museum of whale and dolphin skeletons (at least I did something educational while skipping class!).

cleaning whale bones

After leaving the whale museum/boneyard, our group of about 15 or so took a small boat 10 minutes across to the Martillo Island, better known by us as "Penguin Island." The company we took our tour with, Harberton, is the only company allowed to actually walk on this island- so we had special privileges. The penguins were everywhere! Some just hung out by the shore, playing in the water, while others sat further up on the island shedding their feathers and watching the sunset, ha! Not being much of an animal person, this was truly a cool experience. We even got to see an Emperor Penguin, which usually live further south, closer to Antarctica. This one apparently was a younger penguin who didn't know the waters so well yet, so he got "lost" and wound up hanging out with a different type of penguins for a few days. I cannot believe how close we got to them, it was very hard not to reach out and touch them, however, we were warned that they might "beak" us. We were also told to contain our excitement, so we took out our excitement by taking way too many pictures of these little guys. We left the island just narrowly escaping the collision of two rainstorms, and headed back to the estancia for a little bit of tea before driving an hour back to our hostel for a little pasta dinner.

I think day two was my favorite. Melanie, Marion (our new friend from France) and I headed up to the Tierra del Fuego National Park to spend the day hiking. I've said it a lot about this trip, but it repeatedly proves itself again: I never know where I'm going- rather, I never know for sure what I'm getting myself in to. Hiking through this park, I had no idea I was about to experience the most incredible, natural beauty I have ever seen. I rarely use the term "breath-taking" for fear of devauling it, but there really is no other phrase to describe where we found ourselves.

We got off the bus around 11:15 and aimed to pick up the return bus at either 5 or 7pm, depending on our pace. The beginning of the trail had us hiking through a forest, one I imagine would be the inspiration for movies wishing to create a magical forest land (a lot of the scenery in Ushuaia reminded me of Disney movies, and I've heard Walt Disney actually spent some time in the Patagonia regions of Argentina...). The trees stood tall, with enough spacing to allow adequate sun to shine on the grassy ground cover, which was a vibrant green color. While our trek was just beginning, and our energy was running high, our pace quickly carried us forward, following the yellow guide posts along the way. When the trees cleared, the three of us came face to face with my favorite view, and one we would walk alongside for a large part of our journey: water. If you know me, you know I am absolutely enthralled by any water scene. But this was a place that a very small percentage of the population ever gets to see, and I could not get enough of it. I repeatedly asked myself, "Who sees this???" There I was, at the end of the world, in a park only seen by a handful of people gazing upon the most incredible scenery I could ever imagine. The vast ocean, embedded between the tail end of the Andes (but no less impressive), was devoid of contamination leaving it with a pristinely clear hue with the only addition of color being the perfect reflections of the mountains and sky. The only form of civilization located here was the very last post office in the world (although I can't imagine there's much incoming or outgoing mail). After getting my passport stamped with a cool "Ushuaia: Fin del Mundo" stamp for 10 pesos, we continued on our hike.

As we went on, I kept my gaze remained to the left keeping an eye on any change of scenery with in the ocean and the mountains. Occasionally we came across an overlook in the hike, making it impossible to stop taking pictures. We tried to capture it all on film, but the truth is, unless you were there, there is no way to possible appreciate the pictures we took. About 2.5 hours into our hike, we stopped for a "lunch" break of leftover bread and an apple (we weren't exactly prepared).

After lunch, and refueled with energy, I jumped down a small ledge in the path only to find I had startled a wild horse back into the woods! Being a little more cautious, we looked around the corner and found two horses grazing in the field, enjoying the day.

As our hike progressed, we dodged a few rain drops, our conversations got shorter and we were left with our own thoughts. The view changed to mainly mountains decorated in fall colors with little streams here and there, and, when we followed the map right, there were secluded lagoons. I have never felt so tiny in my life. Who was I thin this world, but a tiny, tiny speck of flesh. And yet, God has cared enough to design me, and call me by name, giving me a purpose and a point in breathing. This was the part of our hike of pure awe and thanksgiving to my Heavenly Father and Creator.

Now, through my awe and thanksgiving, I started feeling the sheer amount of time we had been hiking, and I began to notice the sun making it's descent. We only had a couple more overlooks to catch before we had to meet the last bus. We continued to follow the yellow guides (which at times disappeared), but just as I began to worry about our location, I was reassured of being on the right track. The final destination of our hike brought us to the end of Route 3, which as it's beginnings in Alaska (or the end, depending on how you're looking at it). With Rocky's theme song playing in our heads, we had reached the finish line...12 kilometers later (8 miles approx). All by foot. Let that number sink in a bit. Because thats.... A LOT.

It was about 6:30, so we had to wait for a 30 more minutes for our bus to come. But that was plenty of time, in conjunction with the setting sun, to realize just how cold the end of the world was. Besides the three of us, there was another couple waiting to be picked up, which also reassured me we were in the right place. However, their bus came first, and the poor lady was so sweet, she was so hesitant to get on the bus, not wanting to leave us alone in the middle of nowhere. But their driver reassured her, and us, that we would have a ride in 15 minutes. This kind woman gave us one last, sorrowful look (and later made the driver stop our closely following bus to make sure we were in there). Nice people do exist. But needless to say, I had never been happier to see our bus come for us. A hike above all hikes, above all experiences. I only wish my pictures did the journey justice.

Day three was a day of just bumming around, after we clearly had used all our energy the day before. It was good to explore the actual city of Ushuaia a bit, but there is really not much one can see, or really do. However, it was a much needed break before our next adventure: Hiking the glacier.

Well rested, Melanie and I were ready to take on the Martiel Glacier. At first glance, this mountain looked nothing more than a snowy peak, however it was indeed a glacier of which a large majority of Argentina's water is gathered. We had been told that the view of Ushuaia from the top was magnificent, so we were thankful the cloudy weather had cleared from the day before... except for one, intrusive rain cloud hovering above the glacier. Seriously, there were absolutely no other clouds in the sky, but being our last full day, we had to hope in the constantly changing weather Ushuaia is known for and we began our trek.

On of our hostel roommates, Mikel from Spain, told us he hiked from the mountain all the way up. So of course, if he could do it, so could we. We took a taxi to the base of the mountain, which brought us face to face with the massive body of rock it is. We opted to pay 68 pesos to take the ski lift up only a very small portion of the way. At this point, it had begun to rain, and the experienced hikers that we are (note sarcasm) had only dressed in jeans, a pair of socks, tennis shoes, and a few layers of shirts and jackets. We admitted we would undoubtedly be getting pneumonia (sorry Mom), but of course, it was all part of the experience. Thankfully, my host family had leant me a pair of gloves and a hat, but Melanie had neither.

Seated in our chair lift and facing our glacier, the rain, propelled by an awful wind, proceeded to freeze our faces and introduced us to that uncomfortable burning, yet freezing, feeling in our legs. Melanie and I were both questioning Mikel's all to daring idea to hike this mountain and we began to like the idea of getting off at the top of the ski lift, looking up for a few moments, and then riding the lift back down.

But despite my frozen state, my adventurous spirit and curiosity got the best of me. I did not come to the End of the World to simply look at this glacier. We embarked on this adventure, and now we had to finish climbing. Convincing ourselves of our abilities, we denied that we were already frozen, welcomed pneumonia, and set off to trace the trail to the top.

We first passed through a forest of leaf-less trees, which looked more like ragged sticks growing out of the ground (and would've been great for a Wizard of Oz forest scene). Leaving the forest, we followed the sign to the left pointing us in the direction of Martiel Glacier. We paused as a strong gust of wind nearly knocked us off the bridge we had to cross and briefly read an informative sign telling us that the part of the hike we were about to embark on as level "difficult." But words and warnings mean nothing until you test their validity yourself.

The trail was lined with rocks, and for a while, it was clear where those had traveled us stepped. The weather started to change and the wind got stronger, the rain turning in to a mixture of snow and ice pellets. My eyes began to water and then intensely burn from getting my makeup mixed in there, making it virtually impossible for me to see for a while. We paused behind a giant rock to regroup, as we were miserable, yet continued to laugh at what lie before us.

We continued on, finding ourselves in a vertical climb that appeared to have never been trekked before (what happened to our yellow guide??). There was one other couple, who at this point were very ant-like, but we looked to them as a point of reference. Eventually we caught up to half of the pair, as her husband had gone on ahead to investiage the rest of the route. This part was seemingly impossible. Melanie's shoes had very little traction, so she was literally crawling on the rocks. As we were at our lowest (figuratively) moment, we took a a second to evaluate our situation and whether or not it was worth it, or feasible to continue. It seemed the only way to abandon our mission would be to slide on our butts all the way back down. We seriously debated backing down, but that glacier was so close and I knew I was going to regret not making it to the top, so we carried on.

Following what the man a couple feet in front of us was doing, there appeared to be an actual marked path we had miss and should have been on all along. After leaving one casualty water bottle behind, which was dramatically noted as "not worth it!" we pressed forward. The designated trail made the going a little easier, but the letting up of typical mountainous weather really saved us.

Despite our doubts, Melanie and I finally made it to the base of the glacier, and our pride could not have been greater. Of course, being on a mountain, I tried to yodel in celebration, but surprisingly heard no echo. We turned around to reflect on our steps and we met the most incredible view looking down upon Ushuaia, which still had sunshine and blue skies blanketing. Once again, I felt like the tiniest ant amongst goliath mountains, valleys, and glaciers- but what an incredibly humbling feeling. I am nothing, but yet something so important to God. I can't get over that.

After taking some victory pictures, and spirits lifted, we headed back down the mountain (this time following all the right signs!). However, when we got back to the ski lift dock, the worker kindly informed us that, while he hoped we enjoyed our hike, we would have to walk the rest of the way down. The wind was too strong, and as a safety measure, the lift had been closed. Go figure.

Walking down was more like running, due to the nature of the incline, but at least the weather was in our favor this time. Once at the bottom, we took one more look at where we had come from, and decided a pizza was well-deserved.

We conquered the Martiel Glacier.

I apologize for such a lengthy entry, but the adventures were too exciting to keep from you! So if you stuck with it, you're amazing! This weekend, I'm headed a bit west to the Mendoza area. So until then...

-Courtney

Spring into Fall

Today marks the first day of Fall, and yet it is something like 80 degrees here. I did see a glimpse of fall earlier this week, but it hasn't decided to stay yet. But to everyone in the United States, happy Spring (and thanks Dad for sending a picture of everything in bloom)!

I'm coming up on two months before my plane arrives at RDU, and it's absolutely crazy to think I've been in Argentina for two and a half months already! The time has gone by so very quickly and January feels so far away. The next couple months will be filled with traveling around the different provinces of Argentina, making sure I spend adequate amount of time in my favorite places in Buenos Aires, and hopefully a trip to Chile. On Tuesday, I'll be boarding a plane to the Southern-most city in the world, Ushuaia. Glaciers, penguins, and the cold air await me!

To be honest, my classes here are a joke. While my business classes are interesting at times, I'm not of a business mindset so it's a little hard to fully comprehend. I certainly do not learn anything in my advanced Spanish class, so I have started taking private lessons which have been wonderful! My teacher is able to pinpoint the areas I need the most help in, and I really feel like I'm learning a lot from that setting. I am also in a culture and civilization class, taught in Spanish, which I was initially the most excited about. Apart from the cultural field trips we take from time to time, the class has been a disappointment.

On Wednesday, my culture and civilization class took a field trip to a tango hall. The dance hall offered a tango class followed by live music where people could continue practicing their recently learned tango steps, should they dare. I attempted to learn for a little while, but that dance is a very difficult thing to master! I was fortunate to have one really great dance partner, which really made my experience a lot more fun. I have to say, I prefer the faster rhythms of salsa dancing to the slow, sultry movements of tango. I enjoyed watching those who knew what they were doing though! The band that performed after our class was very unique. They were comprised of 3 or 4 bandoneons, a piano (honky tonk looking), an upright bass, a few violinists and a singer. Very unique sound, but also very tango-esque. It should be noted, as many Argentines will tell you, that the tango is specifically a Buenos Aires thing. Outside of that, folklore music and dancing is the national choice.

live music at the tango show

Now that vacation time is over, my family is all back together. To celebrate this, we had another empanada party this past Thursday. I've learned that a party with empanadas is called an "emapanada-iada," a party with pizza would be "pizza-iada" and with hamburgers, it would be a "hamburguesa-iada" and so on. Clever, huh? This time, there were about 25 people in attendance in our small apartment, and every empanada was eaten. This is definitely one of my favorite experiences here, as I feel so much more a part of the family and I really enjoy getting to know Mary and Loli's friends and family.

I finally got the opportunity to visit the MALBA museum (Museo de arte Latinoamericana Buenos Aires). I hear a lot about this museum, and it's unique collection of modern art, so it was about time I experienced it. Unfortunately, for all the talk it is given, I was a little under impressed. Only one floor was open for guests (there's usually two), which I scanned through rather quickly. But I will say, there were some pretty interesting works of art there. One was a paper maché model of a monster fish type of deal with a woman's body half sticking out of his mouth. Not sure about that one...

I had quite the alarm as I walked to school on Thursday: the block my campus is located on was gated on both sides, and lined with armed policemen. As I crossed between an opening in the gates, I found more policemen inside and a giant police van situated in front of my school. So in my mind, I'm thinking there was some sort of attack or dangerous felon on the loose. After talking with some of my professors, I found out that Thursday marked the 19th anniversary of a terrorist attack on the Israeli embassy located around the corner from me. Now, every year they have a ceremony of remembrance.

Sally, Stephanie and I were invited to a party by some friends who live in La Plata. So Friday, we took a trip out to the capital of the province of Buenos Aires. It is about an hour bus ride from Buenos Aires to La Plata, and as can be said for any city outside of BA, it was a lot calmer. Because we were really only there for the party, I didn't see much of the city, but I did manage to see the grand cathedral they have! I'm hoping to go back another day and do a little more sight seeing.

proof I was in La Plata

The party was its own experience. Our friend had a huge backyard, decked out with lights and a great sound system that made the place feel like a boliche. And of course, the party was on Argentine time- it started around 12 and it wasn't until 5:30 or so that people were kicked out. At first, everyone seemed to stick with their own groups of friends, but not wanting to be seen as "those Americans" (I already stood out for wearing a blue shirt with flowers on it, all the Argentines wore black, white or gray) we had to make our circle a little larger. We joined circles with a group of Argentine girls who we quickly became friends with. One of the girls is studying at least four different languages, so she loved speaking in English while we stuck to Spanish. Going to these parties is where I practice my Spanish the most, and of course dance! I don't know what I'm going to do when I go back to the United States and don't get to do either of these things as often.

Today, we walked around the San Telmo fair for a little bit, which is always filled with massive amounts of people. I love looking at the different vendors' handi-work, but I especially love to eat the food from the street vendors. Unfortunately, I'm feeling a bit under the weather (I'm blaming it on the changing seasons), so I couldn't enjoy the day as much as I would have liked. But we are attempting to make San Telmo a Sunday tradition, which I can't complain with.

no way a car could get through this street! (San Telmo)

It's getting to be mid-term time here, so I currently have a take home test I should be working on. I figured writing a little postcard would be better use of my time :) I'll write you again when I return from the edge of the world, but until then, I love and miss you all!

-Court

cute fruit stand I found in Palermo

Seventeen.

A round trip from Buenos Aires, Argentina to Cabo Polonio, Uruguay will use approximately seventeen vehicles. Out of seventeen, eight are of different varieties. But in the midst of all the changing of transportation, miles (kilometers, rather) of unforgettable adventures will undoubtably be trekked.

Sally and I left early on Sunday morning to catch the colectivo (1) from our barrio to the train station. After scrounging for some monedas (coins), since the bus system here does not accept cash, we made it down to the train station at the exact moment the train was supposed to depart. We learned that the train station here functions about 10 minutes ahead of real time. They even had their clock adjusted as so. We would be taking the train (2) to Tigre where we would then board a ferry straight to Montevideo. Sounds easy enough, right?

From Buenos Aires to the Tigre train stop, there were about 14 stops. Six away from our destination, the train shut down and Sally and I were kicked off in an area we had never heard of. Following the crowd of people to the town center, we figured we would be able to find a taxi just as easily as in Buenos Aires. False. Buenos Aires lives in a bubble and I should learn that nothing is ever the same outside of that bubble. Many people were taking busses, but not knowing exactly which one to take, and the fact that they were all full and being really pressed for time, we really needed to find a taxi fast. Sally asked a man for the best place to pick up a taxi and he pointed us across the street to a remise station.

The receptionist at the remise station told us it would be about a 15 minute wait. So with no other option, we took a seat on a bench next to two young fellas who hadn't gone to bed for the night yet. One tried his hardest to get Sally to go out for coffee with him, amongst other things, but he didn't have much luck. We were both very thankful when a nice couple, who had also been kicked off the train, came to the rescue. They were very clearly well-traveled people, who spoke English fluently. After discovering we were both going to Tigre, they offered to share a remise with us. Sally and I gladly accepted, and we were soon on our way to Tigre with our new friends (and their cutest baby!) in a remise(3).

Before I continue, let me back up. Sally and I were supposed to be meeting up with Iris and her friend Julia at the ferry. After we were kicked off the train, I called Iris to inform her of our troubles but my phone call also served as a wake-up call for them. They had slept through their alarm and hadn't even begun their journey yet! We figured we would for sure be missing the ferry, but nevertheless, Iris and Julia called a remise as well and we made plans to meet them at Tigre.

Sally and I made it to the ferry(4) just in the nick of time, and I'm still surprised Iris and Julia made it at all. It was a struggle to find seats (thats what we get for nearly missing it), but Iris and Julia decided to have a picnic on the bow. I joined them for a little before I opted to sleep. We had assumed that the ferry would be taking us straight to Montevideo, but three hours later, the ferry kicked everyone off at the last stop in Carmelo. Apparently, we had to take a bus from Carmelo to Montevideo, which was definitely news to all of us. We had no other option but to stand in the long customs line to enter in to Uruguay. During this time, we realized there are certain food items which are not allowed to be brought in to the country, nearly all of which Iris had brought along. Much to the amusement of those standing the customs line, we scarfed down as much as we could before crossing the border (which, in the end, they didn't even check to see what we were bringing in).

We boarded the bus (5) to Montevideo, and in between closing my eyes, I took in the Uruguayan landscape. Uruguay is a series of rolling hills and farms. Apart from Montevideo itself, I didn't see any cities en route. In fact, I didn't really see any forms of civilization apart from the farms. From my window-seat, Uruguay was a never-ending countryside covered by a blanket of blue sky and wisps of white clouds. Truly peaceful.

After the bus finally dropped us off in Montevideo, we had to take a city bus(6) to our hostel, the Green Hostel. The streets surrounding our hostel were empty. Every business was closed, with the exception of very very few restaurants. We were told several times to "watch our things" and "be careful" in this area, so I wasn't expecting much of our hostel. But my expectations proved me way wrong. The Green Hostel was very clean and orderly, and the staff very friendly and helpful. And, as the name implies, the Green Hostel is an eco-friendly place.

The four of us made friends with Martin, one of the hostel workers. Martin offered to show us a little of Montevideo by car (7), and not knowing the area, we accepted his invitation. It conveniently happened to be Martin's birthday as the clock struck 12, so to help him celebrate, we created our own party on the sidewalk between the beach and the road. I think it would be really cool to work in a hostel one day. Having the opportunity to share life with someone for a small moment in time has the ability to make the world feel like a smaller place.

We woke up bright and early, rather, dark and early as the sun was not yet up, and took a taxi(8) back to the Montevideo bus station where we picked up the bus (9) to Cabo Polonio. Four hours later, of much of the same farmland scenery, and we were dropped off on the side of the road. We walked towards a small group of people waiting in line for the next, and final, mode of transportation to Cabo Polonio- and this was by far the coolest. Cabo Polonio is called a paraíso natural (natural paradise). The paved roads ended and we embarked on a 30 minute trek in what can best be described as a sand dune truck. This truck (10), which would never meet safety standards of any kind, was a double-decker contraption set on sand- drivable tires on the frame of various kinds of trucks. Taking a seat on the bottom level, I found it humorous to look up and only see strangers' feet dangling from the second story. While there was a clear path we were taking, it was an otherwise rugged excursion through sand and shrubbery. When we finally disembarked, we found ourselves in the center of a hippie beach town: no electricity, no running water, and the houses were built out of whatever the sea had deposited on its shores.

We arrived with no reservations for accommodation, and were given little hope of actually finding any given that it was a holiday weekend. (Side note, the president of Argentina declared March 7 and 8 as a national holiday just this year to encourage people to participate in Carnaval). The first hostel we inquired about had three beds, which was a lot better than none at all. We checked a couple more hostels but with no luck, so we checked the four of us for beds for three. The hostel was family owned, and by that, I think one woman ran it while her daughters and young grandchildren hung around the campsite (more or less) all day.

Since there was no running water, showering and using the bathroom was an adventure, and I tried to do both as little as possible. If you wanted a hot shower, you had to tell the lady that ran the hostel so she could boil a tea kettle of water for you. This was was then dumped into a bucket which had a very tiny nozzle at the bottom for the water to drip out of- all suspended in the air by a rope. They did actually have toilets, but in order to flush, you had to dump another bucket of water in it to push everything down. Toilet paper was to be thrown in the trash can, not the toilet itself. All other water was obtained through a small water pump located on the side of the hostel.

Iris, Sally, Julia and I were supposed to be meeting up with Sally, Bene and Bene's brother (who we all call Harry Potter, and it's far easier to say that than his actual German name!). Not having any way of contacting one another, we only hoped that we would eventually run into each other. And sure enough, we did! They had managed to find a hostel just across the dirt path from us. They had a better kitchen than our hostel did, so we opted to cook our pasta dinner there. Iris, alongside another new friend, Daniel (who is an "expert" chef) whipped up a wonderful concoction of pasta with a red cream sauce. After dinner, Daniel tried to share a home remedy for cleaning dishes....with sand. Being a bit skeptical, we had to laugh when this experiment was called off due to a clogged kitchen sink. We finished the night off star-gazing, and in a town with absolutely no electricity, I don't think I've ever seen the stars quite like that. Incredible.

Our two groups had only rented a hostel for one night, so the next morning, we were homeless and on a quest for a new place to stay. We stumbled upon Marcelo (who I have yet to figure out exactly what he does in that town). Marcelo told us he had a couple of hostels here and there where we could be split up....OR, he had another place, away from the touristy side of Cabo Polonio (the place isn't that big, by the way, it was more like the other side of the street). We followed him up the hill into what he called the "Beverly Hills of Cabo Polonio." Here, we met Chonga, the owner of this incredible house with just enough room for the seven of us. Chonga's house sat a little higher than the other houses in "Beverly Hills," and you could see the ocean from nearly all sides. We were told several times by the locals that we had stumbled upon the best house in the city.

A large majority of our time was spent on the roof of Chonga's house and with such an incredible view, it was tough to come down from there. The house was a typical beach style house- open doors, hammocks, sand...perfect for lounging around, doing absolutely nothing- which was exactly what we did. It also had a fire pit which would have been excellent for making smores, but I don't think that delicacy exists in South America.

We ventured down to the beach for a little bit and swam in the warm water. Unfortunately, this fun was cut short when Sarah was attacked by a demon man-of-war jelly fish. Her arm looked like this thing grabbed a hold of her and didn't let go for a good five minutes. I don't think I've ever seen a sting quite like that one. But Sarah was a champion- even though she was in an extreme amount  of pain, you never would have been able to tell.

After Bene and Harry Potter attempted to do a little surfing, and I did some exploring on the rocks, we decided to scrape our money together for a fish dinner. I say we had to scrape our money together because between the seven of us, we only had a limited amount of money to spare, and we were under the assumption that ATMs did not exist in this city. It was only until five minutes before we left that we learned there was indeed an ATM on site. Oops! Oh well, it was kind of fun seeing how much we could do with our limited funds. We finished the night off sitting silently in front of the fire for a few hours until one by one we went to bed. Sweet serenity filled Cabo Polonio, and was such a welcome change to the constant noise in Buenos Aires.

We didn't have to leave until the afternoon on the next day, so we spent the morning soaking up the last bits of tranquility. Chonga, Marcelo and his friend showed us the natural jacuzzi, which had been formed by the rocks leading into the ocean and refilled by the crashing waves. Iris, Julia, Bene, Harry Potter and I went to visit the lighthouse and took in the panoramic view of Cabo Polonio. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. We said goodbye to Chonga and Marcelo, split some empanadas, and piled back in to the sand dune truck (11) that took us away from paradise.

Back to paved roads, we took another four hour bus (12) to Montevideo where our group would once again be splitting ways. Iris, Julia and I had to go back to reality the next day while the other four had one more day of relaxation. After finding out the next bus back to Buenos Aires (via Colonia) would not be leaving until 2:30am, we took the colectivo (13) back to the Green Hostel were the others checked in for the night. We went back to the parilla stand where we ate choripan the first night. My heart broke as I watched a homeless man dig through the trash cans sitting right in front of me for someone's leftovers to eat. How could I be so blessed and have so much and yet not five feet in front of me was a man who had nothing. I couldn't finish my choripan sandwich.

We took a taxi (14) from the Green Hostel back to the bus station and boarded our bus (15) for Colonia. From Colonia, we hopped on a ferry (16) and sailed on to Buenos Aires (which, by the way, we had first class tickets which got us a free donut and orange juice on board!). Back in the concrete city, we hopped on yet another bus (17) that dropped us off close to home.

All of that relaxation left me exhausted, and I was thoroughly disappointed to have to go to class just four hours after returning home. Never in my life would I have guessed I would have had a weekend quite like this Uruguayan adventure, but never would I trade it.

Sand-dune Truck

View of the sunset from the roof

Chonga's house

View of Cabo Polonio from the lighthouse

Bus stop in the middle of nowhere.