Bariloche to Mendoza

We take things super slow this morning, knowing that we have four hours in an airplane seat in our future, and not wanting to risk the relative lack of pain my travel partner is experiencing. Since our flight is not until 4pm, we ask at the desk if we might be able to stay in the room a few hours past check out time so that she has a comfortable place to wait. “Of course,” the receptionist says, “not a problem.” Typing furiously for a few minutes, she looks back up and says, “that will just be $130 dollars.” That is more than we have been paying to stay for any of the previous days (all 24 hours of them), and after looking at each other for a moment, speechless, Angela and I both burst out laughing.

It’s not one of my prouder moments (I’m sure she was just doing her job as it was taught to her), but it generates positive response, as another clerk comes over and, I assume figuring that we might be a little bit crazy, gives us the go ahead to use the room until the cleaning crew shows up.

One of the PITA things we have learned about Argentina, is that there are very few direct flights to anywhere, so no matter how close things might look on a map, they are going to require a connection in Buenos Aires. So even though we depart in the middle of the afternoon for a city no more than 90 minutes away, we don’t pull up to the hotel until after 10pm (which fortunately is still dinner time in this part of the world).

Where Bariloche was a bit on the chilly side, Mendoza brings the warm weather we have been looking forward to. Even late into the evening it is in the 70s, giving us the chance to wander around the neighborhood and find a great street, open only to foot traffic and lined with outdoor restaurants. And in a sign our luck might be changing…