Good Air to you.

So I faffed about Rio for a few days where the weather was less than desirable. Yay for the wet season! Still warm though. Ended up looking like a water rat by getting totally drenched one evening whilst going on a walk and happened to be wearing my palest, thinnest top which was slightly embarrassing. Caught the bus and spent a day in Sao Paulo.

Went with some people to one of those meat on a stick places that Brazil is famous for (given I had been in the country for 2 and a half months I figured I may as well suss out the salad range). What happens is there is a huge salad bar type thing with different vegetables, rice, beans, chips etc which you can help yourself to. Then waiters come around to your table with big skewers of meat and offer you bits cut straight off onto your plate. Roast chicken, beef (rare, medium and well done), chicken heart, sausage, pork, you name it, it was there. It did get a bit ridiculous after they came around about the 20th time despite everyone feeling totally stuffed and all politely declining (again). As I was the only person who declined every time the waiter came around clearly there was something wrong with me and one wait er cut off a slice and placed it directly onto my plate despite my multiple polite "No, obrigada senor". Charming. I was well done at this point and someone else ate the bit but to be totally honest it was more than just a little bit gross.

Slept the following night at the airport and flew here to the city of Good Air early on Sunday morning.

Buenos Aires is often labeled as being the most European of South American cities. And part of me can see why. There are many statutes, memorials and parks. The architecture is rather funky. There is a certain elegance to the tango (which I am yet to attempt to perform). Lots of people speak English (and I'm trying to learn Spanish). Oh and the good air doesn't seem to extend to any enclosed space. Smoking is acceptable everywhere. They don't even have the health warning labels on the packets.

Speaking of cigarette warning labels my favourite was one from Brazil that was of a half used cigarette with the ashed bit curled over and the written warning telling you about how smoking leads to impotence.

I arrived last Sunday morning on minimal sleep but decided to clean up and go out to the art and antiques market that was going on, being the market slut that I am. It was well worth it. The market focuses around Plaza Dorrego in San Telmo, however the surrounding streets are full of buskers (I *really* am begining to appreciate the piano accordion), street performance, market stalls and tango dancers. It had a really lovely feel to it. The fine weather (clear skies, low 30s, low humidity) also helped.

Spent the past few days sorting out the changes to my ticket, taking Spanish lessons and wandering around San Telmo and Centro. The main pedestrian mall has been full of people but in a pleasant way and the few squares and parks are people friendly too. Am glad I am here for awhile there are heaps of different areas I am looking to explore.

There was a costume party at the sister hostel to the place I'm staying last night. Due to the fact that costumes are high on the list of things for the average backpacker to carry they supplied a few bits and pieces for those of us who made that difficult choice between first aid kit and fancy dress. There were streamers which I used to go as a quasi anime character and a variety of hats, horns, masks and the like. Wasn't too bad but I left when it got too smokey for my liking.

Tonight there is a Australia Day Party with the expected "piss up by the pool" and rumors of sausages in bread with tomato sauce. There isn't an actual pool at the hostel so a paddling pool is being brought in. Fosters may be hard to find (but lets face it no self respecting Australian would be caught drinking it). And no lamb. I did wish the nice man at the Qantas office a Happy Australia Day though.

Semi surreal comment from last night: "I'm going to Peru next Friday." And I am. How very cool.

Less than two months before I get back to Perth, how terribly scary. Any Sydney-siders wanting to catch up mid March, drop me a line.