I’d had a great experience across South America, but Colombia had remained my favourite. In my last week in Argentina I began to wonder if that was still true. The Argentinians were just as laid-back, welcoming and beautiful, and their food was better.
Days before I was due to leave, I was kidnapped by a friend of my mother’s and treated to a final round of Argentinian hospitality in the suburbs of Buenos Aires. They cooked my final asado, shared their mate and their lives with me, then returned me safe and sound the following day.
My last day I went to a museum with an friend, had a homemade pizza at my hostel, and then got a 4am taxi to the airport.
I didn’t think it mattered whether I preferred Argentina to Colombia. Brazil was next on my list and everyone had told me that would be my favourite. My arrival in Sao Paulo did not suggest that would hold true. More to follow.
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