Saturday 17 March 2007
Ryan and I decided we needed a break from the noisiest city in South America, and so we headed out to the coast for a weekend of fresh air. We chose San Clemente, a town of about 10,000 people right on the beach, a few hours from BsAs.
We stayed in a campground right on the edge of town, butting up against the wide open pampas (see tomorrow's post for picture). Funny, the campground was actually closed, so I had to use some Spanish-sweet-talking skills to convince the caretaker to let us stay there (and some Spanish-palm-greasing skills, as well.) The campground had a resident pony, blind in one eye, wandering around.
The weekend was some sitting on the beach, some sipping beer while playing cards, some tasting local alfajores (cookies), lots of picture-taking, and plenty of quiet. It was nice.
Ryan and I decided we needed a break from the noisiest city in South America, and so we headed out to the coast for a weekend of fresh air. We chose San Clemente, a town of about 10,000 people right on the beach, a few hours from BsAs.
We stayed in a campground right on the edge of town, butting up against the wide open pampas (see tomorrow's post for picture). Funny, the campground was actually closed, so I had to use some Spanish-sweet-talking skills to convince the caretaker to let us stay there (and some Spanish-palm-greasing skills, as well.) The campground had a resident pony, blind in one eye, wandering around.
The weekend was some sitting on the beach, some sipping beer while playing cards, some tasting local alfajores (cookies), lots of picture-taking, and plenty of quiet. It was nice.
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