One day, a kangaroo, a lemur, and a parrot decide to go to a Boca Juniors soccer game in Buenos Aires. They had heard that a game was being played against a team named Hurucan, a relatively weak opponent. They had also heard that to go to a Boca game without camouflage and a 90 liter backpack filled with all the usual necessities of walking through the amazon, it meant certain death or severe maiming. This story attempts to follow these three through their experience and try to make it clear to the curious gringo of how to enjoy this Experience.
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Something I learned traveling around Europe and will never forget is the fact that it is Never a good idea to stay up all night to avoid staying in a hotel or catching some early morning event like a train or a race. Well this story is a tale of a group of travelers about to leave Sweden on a 6am train and have decided to stay up all night to avoid the ludicrous exchange rate of the Swedish Kroner. Once a month during the high tourist season, there is a giant congress of travelers on a small island on the east coast of Thailand called Ko Phagnan. In the summer of 2005, along with my traveling companion Nic, I set my scopes on this congress which is better known as the Full Moon Party. This tale is not only of the full moon night but as well as the amazing island that is kind enough to cater to such a debauchery filled event. A short distance from Buenos Aires is the small little country of Uruguay. Widely known as the most popular vacation spot for all the Argentinos as well as an easy hop, skip, and a jump for travelers to extend their visa duration. I convinced my traveling companion, B, to join me as we embarked on what ended up being a 1500 km road trip around the south-eastern heel of the country. As usual I made no prior arrangements and was really only armed with stories and suggestions that I had heard from people I had talked to. These stories mostly consisted of “Everything is booked and you will not find anywhere to stay.” and other methods of saying pretty much the same thin since it was the high season. This entry was pulled from my travel journal from Europe summer expedition 2003… July 12th For Justin, Jen, Mike, and myself, this was our first hard day of travel. An outrageously uncomfortable Ryan-air flight to Pau in the south of France. Get lied to by a taxi driver who said there was no buses to the train station. Our first encounter with the impatient French while trying to buy and then change our train tickets. Six years ago traveling through Europe I heard about this event called Tomatina which was described to me as a giant Tomato fight. At some point I saw some travel TV show at the Tomatina and at that point it made the list of things I had to do before I depart this Earth or at least settle down in some white picket fence house with 2.5 children and a golden retriever. In the summer of 2008 I made my pilgrimage and here is the story of how it all came to be… The urge began during a trip to Argentina to visit my co-bro Roberto. It took shape as I went through the admissions process for ESADE. And it blossomed with a photo gallery provided by Roberto. I want to immigrate to South America. This would happen after an affair with Europe for 20ish months of . . . → Read More: The South American Dream |
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