Please excuse the silence. I have been having a grand old time with my buddy Karen. We've known each other since 1992, and apparently we still haven't run out of things to talk about. I just put her on the airport shuttle. I have plans to dine with Graciela and friends in a couple of hours, so I thought I'd finish up some travel stories.
It's hard to believe that it was week and a day ago that CG and found overselves on the last day before having to return the rental car in Buenos Aires. We woke up in the town of San Luis-- about 200,000 people and so unlike previous cities. We could tell we were returning from the southern part of the country (which is mostly rural and desert or mountains) to the argicultural and industrial north.
Way back in Comodoro Rivadavia (the place I replaced most of my clothes with school boy uniforms), we took a rock to the windshield from a passing truck. The ensuing crack grew and grew during our trip. We knew we would have to pay the car rental agency to replace it but we figured we would wait until the end of the trip to work out the details. Here are the highly entertaining (insert sarcasm here) steps involved in trying to get a windshield fixed in Argentina:
1.) Find the automobile club and ask if they know any places that replace windshields.
2.) Automobile club employee thinks this is beyond his call of duty but reluctantly divulges name of car windshield replacement shop.
3.) Car windshield replacement shop is located but there is no parking nearby. Park a half a block away. Enter shop. Ask about windshield repair (not possible) and replacement. They want to see the car. The car is too far away for them to walk and look at.
4.) Replacement shop insinuates that the rental agency will make us pay too much money if they bring it back to them. They also think we might have paid insurance for windshield replacement. They give us a quote but recommend that we call the rental agency.
5.) Find call center and try to call rental agency. Rental agency doesn't pick up. I pay US$2 while I "wait for an operator to assist me."
6.) Car rental agency tells us it will cost US$280 plus the time the car is out of service to fix. The replacement shop quoted us US$190.
7.) Return to replacement shop. They cannot replace the windshield before 7 pm. We have to be in Buenos Aires (450 miles away) before nightfall. The replacement shop owner tells us we're screwed. I realize that I actually do know some slang in Castellano. Good for me.
8.) CG and I hit the road, dreading the interaction with the rental agency upon return.
The long, straight trip back to Buenos Aires was without incident. We split the driving down the middle and managed on about a tank of gas. It's amazing how little fuel we used when we weren't on dirt roads and driving straight up the sides of mountains. As we approached Buenos Aires, the roads turned into multi-lane highways, the air got hazy and the drivers got crazy. This is what the Lonely Planet says about driving in Buenos Aires: "Anyone considering driving in BA should know that most local drivers are reckless, aggressive and even willfully dangerous. They ignore speed limits, road signs, lines, and traffic signals. They'll tailgate mercilessly and honk even before signals turn green. Buses are a nightmare to reckon with, potholes are everywhere, traffic is a pain and parking can be a bitch. Pedestrians seem to beg to be run over at times." I drove. It made me feel like I was back in Boston.
My very sweet brother gifted us a night at the Buenos Aires Hilton because I couldn't get into my apartment until Saturday morning. Our arrival at the five star Hilton was deserving of an academy award. The outside of our car was covered in 3 inches of red, thick mud. The inside was filled with wood for campfires (collected from dead trees at the side of roads), semi-rotten foods in decrepit cardboard boxes, and unwashed clothes from 5 weeks on the road. Something inside the car smelled funny and despite trying several times to locate the offending item, I could not. In retrospect, the smell might have been me!
We parked at the curb outside the hotel. No bellhop or valet approached the car. I worried that they might deny us entry into the hotel. The lobby was full of folks in black tie. As the song goes "Two of these kids are not like the others...." CG stayed in the car and I approached the check in desk with trepidation. But, in the end, they welcomed us like any other customers (nevermind that they pinched their noses as we walked by). We apologized profusely and left the car with a very confused valet. The luxury of the place was amazing after 5 weeks in the car. Welcome back to Buenos Aires!!
Saturday was a rush to return the rental car before 2 pm. We managed to get into my apartment, empty the car (yuck), find a place to unload a backseat full of campfire wood, get the car cleaned inside and out, and negotiate with the car rental agency over the cracked windshield. The rental place replaced the windshield and charged us only slightly more than the shop in San Luis. It was a good deal.
So, after 30 days and 10858 kms (6786 miles), I was back on my two feet in Buenos Aires and ready for Karen's arrival!
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