Traful

None of us really wanted to leave just yet. We slept in for a bit and then had a mediocre breakfast across the street. The conversation turned to the man book I am writing and some interesting brain storming passed more than a few hours.

The campground we are at now is very nice and run by a german couple. The area itself really is beautiful and unspoiled. It feels a bit like lake tahoe, but a bit more majestic and with a fraction of visitors.

Amie was on the hunt for adam today—trekking the campground, engaging cute girls in conversation on his behalf. The verdict was the campground is too family oriented. We revived the hackey sack competition, and adam kicked my butt with 105 today. We both enjoyed the exercise. We made lunch out of fresh bread, fresh honey, and homemade raspberry jam. Delicious.

The rastaman at the market charged us a hefty deposit on the beer bottles of 4 pesos (about a $1.33) each. Adam thought the rastaman looked like the pimp in the movie “True Romance.” I thought that price was crazy, but then I thought it might be imposed to insure people don’t break bottles on the beach. Anyway, when we went to take them back, no one wanted to help us. They just told me to put them in the pile of empty bottles in the back. When I asked for my money they offered me 2 pesos per bottle. I told them I had paid 4 yesterday, and I wanted my 4. The dude asked me if I had a ticket. No, no one gave me a ticket. Who did you talk to he asked. I said rasta dude. Then he said come back and talk to rasta dude for your money. I said this is not my problem, this is your business, your business charged me 4. It seems to me you should talk to rastadude and give me my 4 pesos. He said sorry. I walked out seeing red. I would expect this BS in Honduras, not in small town Argentina.

Camping!

Day 2: Hackey Sack Challenge

Action shot

The regimen

I'm up to 10
Choripan!
Caption contest
We didn't see adam the rest of the night