In the excitement of getting to Buenos Aires, I glossed over the bit about how we got here. We crossed the Andes on a bus, after all.
And it was majestic. Rock and snow, so big, so beautiful. For the first two hours especially. The last 10 hours weren´t as fantastic, especially since three or four of them were spent at the border, waiting for the immigration officials to get their act together. Apparently the pass had been closed for the previous five days due to snow, and there was quite a backup of cars and buses wanting to get through.
That brought us to Mendoza around 9pm, where we visited seven hotels before we found one with a room to spare. We ate six different kinds of grilled meat (minus the intestines) and called it a day.
The next day, a Sunday, was Argentina´s Día del Niño (see previous entry). We wandered around Mendoza, a very cool little city, and boarded the bus for another 14-hour journey to Buenos Aires.
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