Getting To Argentina: Hola, Buenos Aires

Getting to the airport early—a lot earlier than needed guarantees a long wait. Waiting patiently for check in takes a good two hours. Then there’s another couple of hours before we board the Aerolineas Argentinas flight bound for football-mad country. There’s no doubt that in comparison to Air New Zealand, a lot of airlines pale in comparison. It’s plainly apparent that the seats are pretty squished on the Argentine flight, the service slow, and the TV screens hark back to the days way before the the year 2000. There’s no place for a fancy headphone set, so I stash my headphones away and settle in for a beef and rice dinner that shows up a good couple of hours after the plane is in the air.

One must be grateful for what one gets, I suppose. We were the first ones served on the flight, and the seats just behind us had to probably wait another hour or thereabouts for their meal. Meals get done and sleep must come, and so I doze off with my trusty eye mask. But half way into the flight I awake with a strange feeling. I’m feeling dizzy and my tummy’s hurting. A toilet trip later, I’m kinda OK, but still rattled and filled with the dread of landing with yet another cold.

The landing turns out not to be such a nightmare after all. It’s still very choppy on my ears, but nowhere next to the pain I’ve experienced on other flights. The Otrivin, the medicated cough drops and other stuff has helped without doubt. And we are down in one piece a whole 45 minutes earlier than scheduled.

We set about getting our dollars converted. The person at the counter wants to see my passport, and I don’t have it on hand, so I demur. Which is a good thing because I find we get about 150 pesados more at the counter outside. That pays for the overpriced taxi ride into Defensa where the Hotel Gurda is located.