Domingo, 20 de Abril

This was the shortest day on our trip. After getting up at 3 p.m. we grabbed lunch in Palermo Soho and had a couple helados at Freddo for good measure. The Soho neighborhood was packed on the weekend, a stark contrast to the weekdays in which the area was pretty much vacant.

We went back to the apartment, packed, said goodbye to Nick, and got the deposit back from the lady who had rented us the place. While the apartment was a little old and the beds were uncomfortable, I was sad to leave it. It had quickly become home. We took a taxi to the airport, a fascinating drive through the poorer neighborhoods of greater Buenos Aires. Along the highway families had Sunday afternoon barbeques as their children rode dirt bikes and four-by-fours through the dusty hills and played a games of futbol on the grass. I really had fallen in love with this place. I had to come back.

When leaving from the Buenos Aires airport the most irritating part, worse than the long lines and lack of self-service kiosks we have become so accustomed to in the States, is the $18 (US dollar) tax every single person has to pay. But by the time we got to Duty Free I forgot about it. Here we found some incredible deals on wine, liquor and cigars, in addition to some of the most beautiful female sales people in all of Buenos Aires. I was tempted to stock up on sin but contained myself, buying just a single bottle of wine for my New York roommate’s family.

This time the flight was easy. I slept all the way through to JFK where I left Jas as he checked in for his flight back to LA. It had been one of the most educational, humbling, frustrating, and inspiring weeks of my life. For now I could only hope that we would do something with it. Air Train, E Train, down 8th, 235 and I was…