A relaxing day at the pool...

Let's sleep in past 5:30, we said.

Let's have a relaxing day at the spa, we said.

Let's lie by the pool and rest our weary muscles, we said.

We lied.

Sleeping in for yours truly means closing in on double digits. Sleeping in for the other two crazies means waiting until the sun has just made an appearance over the horizon. Regardless, we all met our sleep quota, had a lovely breakfast, and realized there actually are other guests staying at the hotel. We thought we were the only ones, because there is never anyone around when we are eating our meals... as in 4 a.m. for breakfast. Anyway, we heard there was an hour long trail that loops around some Indian villages and back to our hotel. "Hour" must mean something different when in a country that uses the metric system. Four hours, a gajillion miles, and innumerable hills later, we finally looped back to our hotel road. The loop hike was quite the adventure, though. Any hike that includes Teresa the cab driver driving by and honking madly at us, stopping at an Indian village and having the women try to get you to buy wooden whistles that they oh-so-kindly demonstrate on, and running from growling stray dogs equals a good time.

We walked into town for lunch and ended up making it back to the hotel around 4. This was after a detour of stopping in at a soccer tournament (perdón, I mean futbol) and lining up in the soccer tunnel. I guess that is an international post-game activity. Best relaxing day by the pool ever.

We opted for dinner in... room service and all. This was no easy feat. First, they attempt to connect you with someone that speaks English. By hanging up on you. Repeatedly. Then you get a hold of them and ask for two eggs. Then they say it's not possible. Then Tracy offers to go get the food instead. Then it takes a lineup of seven hotel employees playing a game of Argentinian Telephone, trying to relay the message of "two eggs" to the chef. Dos huevos, we know.

It all worked out, we all got fed, and all was well.

This morning we said goodbye to Iguazu and their crazy coatis with a flight back to Buenos Aires. There was a wee bit of turbulence. By wee, I mean people were confessing deep, dark secrets and telling everyone around them how much they loved them. You think they applauded on earlier flights? This one got a standing ovation.

Our hotel is in the CUTEST neighborhood of Buenos Aires, called Recoleta. It has everything you could need, right within a quarter mile radius. Supermercado for cereal and foreign country gummies, Starbucks, a bakery, and the world's most beautiful library. For real. This biblioteca was boss. I got my annual foreign country haircut (because small talk blocking language barriers are where it's at) tonight... the hombre was on a time crunch. I think I was in the chair and out before Shandon could download "Despacito" from iTunes, which is her new jam.

P.S. Our hotel has an organic garden on the rooftop, and you are free to pick what you want. So put in your orders if you want a souvenir of Swiss chard.

Seven Wonders

So. Iguazu Falls. It's one of the seven natural wonders of the world (I mean, I didn't confirm that, but I'm just assuming). I think I read it on the Internet once, and the Internet never lies. Anyway... this fun fact has inspired me to make my own list.

The Seven Wonders of this Day

1. International breakfast buffets: stir-fry chicken? With a side of Fruit Loops? Absolutely.

2. Teresa the cab driver. We laughed, we cried, we mostly chuckled at each other, not understanding a single word of each other's language, but music has no language barrier. We carpool karaoked the daylights out of Four Non-Blondes. She couldn't understand why she was dropping us off at the crack of dawn when the park didn't open until 8, and we couldn't understand how she could just trust us to pay her "despues", at the end of the day on the second leg of a round trip fee. But I'll tell you what we DID understand. She knew what I meant when I crossed my fingers and said, "No coatis."

3. Being first. First in line for tickets, first in line for admission, first in line for the train. Being first had its perks. One guy practically on the graveyard shift (we were THAT early... I think. I couldn't check the time because my eyes were still burning) took us in the park early to see the toucans. Then we got kicked out and had to wait with the rest of the Falls-goers.

4. Garganta de Diablo (again, not looking it up to confirm name)... the Devil's Throat, the big kahuna of Iguazu Falls waterfalls ("saltas", as we say south of the Equator). We got off the train in the park and walked 1000m across metal bridge thingees (technical term) until we arrived at the most breathtaking amazingness.

5. Waterproof phone cases. The world's greatest invention since the Snuggie. No crazy mist coming from the saltas could slow us down.

6. The fast food market. You guys. That place was my fortress of safety from the killer coatis that were everywhere in the food court. We are talking jumping on tables, stalking men, women, and children, etc. The place was TEEMING and what did those little monsters want? Food. I heard the "3 empanadas for 75 pesos" special was their favorite... which happened to be in my backpack. Shandon and Tracy walked right through that battlefield, because NOTHING was going to keep them from the Lower Loop Trail. Me? If I had a sleeping bag, pretty sure the inside of that market is where you would find me to this day.

7. Argentinian enthusiasm. Remember how everyone clapped when the plane landed the other day? Turns out that is a favorite hobby of theirs. We went on the nautical tour, which means put everything in a dry bag and ride under a waterfall or two. After every bit of excitement, there was a round of applause. By round two and three, we could have passed for locals... clapping, yelling, "¡Mas! ¡Mas!"

In all, it was a glorious day of hiking and admiring... and coati and iguana panicking. Teresa picked us up and, lo and behold, that government tax thing is real. We had to show our passes to government officials on the main highway. In case you are curious, wearing your seatbelt is the law in Argentina. If you ever forget this law, don't worry. The government official who checks your tax pass will not let your vehicle through until each passenger has shown a fully clicked seatbelt. Just saying.

Coati Chop.

Sadly, we had to say good-bye to all our besties at the Glu Hotel this morning. We considered them besties; I think they considered throwing a parade to celebrate getting rid of us and our artificial sugar packets. We made it to the domestic airport by 6 a.m... just in time to have a bit of a run-in with TSA... the last people you want to have a run-in with. Pretty much ever. The lady kept repeating something that was in Tracy's bag, and this time all three of us stared blankly (no one speaks Buenos Aires TSA Agent). Tracy eventually had to relinquish her bug spray, along with her weapon against Zika.

We made it to the northern part of Argentina without further ado by 10:00. We had to wait a bit for the shuttle driver... a debacle that led to what could possibly be a sizable phone call charge on Shandon's bill. Alejandro eventually picked us up and we were off. Alejandro doesn't speak English. I can't say with any sort of confidence that we speak Spanish. Therefore, when Alejandro got pulled over by government officials and was asked questions about us, he couldn't answer. Turns out we were chosen (WINNERS!!) to pay a government tax of 25 pesos each. All we could do was ask Alejandro, "Normal?" To which he replied, "Normal." Who knows. Not us.

Post tax stop and pre-hotel arrival, we saw many animal crossings. You guys. Coati. They look so cute in the photo. Shandon proceeded to say they like to attack humans. Tracy proceeded to say they are a raccoon-monkey mix. I proceeded to say SOMEONE should have warned me about these things that apparently hang out at Iguazu Falls for food dropped by humans. Not so cute. I spent a significant amount of wi-fi time looking into coati rabies. Alejandro drove us through the jungle on a couple of unmarked roads until we arrived at our hotel. It is PARADISE. It was all hands on deck when we arrived to introduce us to every Argentinian employee on site, as well as bring us delicious freshly squeezed mango juice. I'm making that up... I haven't got a clue what flavor it was, because unless it's SIN PULPA, no thank you.

We worked out at the hotel gym which overlooks the jungle and the pool area, followed by lunch at the hotel. We got ourselves a map to the "town" and set out to see what we could see. When asking for directions to town, we were told, "No problem. Right, left, left." Right-left-left got us all the way out of the jungle to the main road (some of us were armed with coati sticks, just in case). The main highway included a huge traffic circle with a class of school children having PE. It seemed like a perfectly reasonable spot to log those PE minutes. The traffic circle and a couple of markets pretty much made up the town. At the supermarket, they wouldn't let us in with our backpacks. Shoplifting issue, you might think. No problem. We took out our wallets and handed the cashier our backpacks... which he put into one giant bag, zipped it up, and handed it to me. More like lugged it over to me; we then had to lug it all over the place... Tracy making HEE HAW sound effects all the while. At the second supermarket, the nice elderly cashier didn't speak a word of English, but pretending to fight a coati has no language barrier. Which she did and we understood.

Back at the hotel and spa, we thought a soak in the spa would be just the ticket. It was actually a Roman bath, with many, many rules and regulations. First step, dry sauna. Fifteen minutes, they said. It will be nice, they said. I lasted somewhere in the neighborhood of 15 seconds. Second step, steam room, two thousand and three degrees.. NOPENOPENOPE. We had to sneak past the lady to the spa because she meant business when she said 15 minutes in steps one and two, but we do what we want. We even try to bring bug spray into the jungle.

Early night tonight and bright and early to Iguazu Falls in the morning!

You Can Go Uruguay...

Punctuality matters in this country. Last night, Diego asked what time we wanted a wake-up call. We said 6:30, he said, "Okay, six," and then they went ahead and called us at 5:30. Diego knows best, so who are we to argue? They brought breakfast in promptly at 6:00. This was their first visit, and NOT the last.

Phone call to lobby #1: Hi, can we have fake sugar for the coffee?

Man: Oh, yes! Yes!

Man arrives with sugar packets and leaves. It is not fake sweetener.

Phone call to lobby #2: Hi, we actually wanted FAKE sugar. Um... sugar sin sugar. Sin sugar?

Man: Oh, yes! I see! Yes! How many?

Shandon: Five.

Man arrives with five... croissants. True story.

Shandon: No, we wanted artificial sweetener, like Sweet and Low or Equal....

Man: Oh, yes! I see! Yes!

We were starting to think that perhaps, just maybe, he didn't quite see. But we did get five croissants out of the situation, so that's a plus. He came back with the "sugar sin sugar" and thanked us profusely for helping him meet his Fitbit step goal, all before 7 a.m. Not really.

Phone calls #3 and #4 involved more coffee and asking for him to call us a cab. If that won't put a post-it in your hotel file as annoying guests, I don't know what will.

Our cab driver took us to the ferry port, and pretty sure they based Grand Theft Auto on his driving skills. When he saw a corner coming up, he preferred to hit the gas rather than the brake; that's WAYYY more fun.

You know what else is fun? Argentinian Immigration Control. We got our exit stamp to leave Buenos Aires, then you just have to turn a full 180 to get your entry stamp into Uruguay from the counter right behind you. Very efficient.

One hour on the ferry and a trip through customs and we were on Uruguayian (??) soil. We wandered the town of Colonia all day and it was glorious. Lighthouse? Saw it. Stone wall? Climbed it. Cafe con leche? Drank it. Cobblestone streets? Tripped all over it. Old ruins? Loved it.

Colonia was just the best place to wander. When we got back to Buenos Aires, it was about 5:30, which in America is about time to wrap up the day. In Argentina, you have to get your second wind so you can make it to restaurant-opening time, which is 8 p.m. Soooo we went on an excursion to find the best local coffee shop - nothing commercialized for us. More lies. We were looking for Starbucks. Any Starbucks. That adventure was a fail, and we eventually had to give up and get a taxi to take us back to the Palermo neighborhood. That was almost a fail too, when the first cab driver denied us because it was just a bit too far for him to bother driving. We eventually found someone willing to take our 140 Argentinian pesos, and exactly twelve seconds after getting in the cab, we pulled up in front of... you guessed it... Starbucks. Fails all around.

We attempted to go to Sarkis restaurant (the food of my people), but the line was around the corner right at 8:00; all was well, though... we ended up with phenomenal tacos and called it a night. Next up... Iguazu!

Argentinian Adventuring

We're baaaaaaaaack! This time, we dusted off the ol' passports and headed for the best hemisphere of all... the Southern Hemisphere. We left bright and early to head to LAX to catch our connecting flight to Lima, Peru. We left Fresno with about thirty-seven hours to spare, but that's what happens when you travel with people as anxious about missing a flight as you are.

We spent our many hours wandering around the international terminal, watching the Warriors game, and making some serious last minute purchases. As in, neck pillows and airport books. You know, the important stuff.

This day made me grateful for many things:

1. The dedication Latam Airlines workers have to their jobs. I mean, we stood waiting for an employee to answer a quick question for at least 8 minutes while he straightened the posts for how to line up, while muttering, "Uno momento," over and over. If that doesn't scream Employee of the Month, I don't know what does.

2. Latam Airlines' quota for caloric intake. They like to feed you on their flights. 10:30 p.m.? How about a beef stew? Two vegetarian plates? How about a soy burger for you and a ravioli plate for you? You don't get to choose, just eat. 5:30 a.m.? Spinach and potatoes for everyone! 10:30 a.m.? How about an omelette of just eggs? In the meantime, if you are awake and your seat mates are sleeping, a flight attendant will reward you for good behavior with a Twix.

3. Latam Airlines blankets. Some airlines give you a washcloth-sized rag as you shiver your ways across lines of latitude. Not Latam. They went for the whole yard; and for that, we are really and truly grateful.

4. Latam Airlines safety policies. SOMEONE must have tipped them off on my trick of blatantly ignoring the seatbelt demonstration. P.S. Don't bother acting like you're sleeping. They will poke you, then wait oh-so-patiently until they hear the seatbelt click. Safety first.

5. The Parent of the Year behind us who told her two small children to keep their feet away from the seats in front of them. Seriously, not one teeny tiny kick in 8 hours. Bravo, Mom.

6. The lack of traffic on the 405.

7. Just kidding about #6. Making sure you were awake.

We made it to Lima safe and sound (and well fed), and were able to cut our four-hour layover into thirty minutes by getting on an earlier flight to Buenos Aires.

I don't know about you, but on the Top 10 Things You Don't Want to Hear on a Flight, I have, "Ladies and gentlemen, we are spraying aerosol throughout the cabin. Do not panic. It is not toxic to your health...." It happened, but we survived. Everyone was so glad to not be poisoned that the entire airplane applauded upon touching ground. We had a quick ATM issue that was resolved in no time. We had booked a taxi back in like March of 2014 (one of us is really a planner), so a porter was ready and willing to take us. He managed to get us all the way from the airport doors to the taxi driver (quite a feat... we are talking AT LEAST 40 yards), after which he repeated, "A tip for the porter. Ma'am? A tip for the porter?!" Tracy and I stared blankly, not understanding in the slightest, but Shandon speaks Argentinian porter, apparently.

An hour later we were at our hotel and Diego was waiting with waters (two sparkling, one flat, please), and three converter plugs. Basically all we need... ever. Since the nation was on siesta, we had to wait until 8 pm for the restaurants to open, so we spent our time finding our local market and our local bakery and experimenting crossing major streets without crosswalks. Dinner was seafood and day one is done!