Every trip must come to an end, and as we packed and left for the aeroport, we realized BA just didn't want to let us go.
Our taxi was late.
The line in the aeroport that came to an end left us without seats together,
and when we finally were called to the gate two hours late, we waited another three hours just to depart (a baggage strike).
Buenos Aires left us with the impression of a city behind a misty wall.
Two days later, we arrived home, but somehow, the duality of the trip, the city, the people remains with us like a film of soap that was difficult to rinse off.
On the surface, the buildings and towers of Buenos Aires have a grand, old-world Parisian richness to them, but beyond the
facade, was a city of third-world poverty existing quite seemlessly alongside the European image. If you have ever been to South Africa, the cardboard and tin towns exist within the same school and town boundaries as millionaires. It's unsettling for visitors who come from countries with greater numbers living in the middle classes.
Could we co-exist like this?
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