Toro, Toro!!!

It's been a while, but I'm back at it. Writing to you from an apartment somewhere in Barcelona overlooking the night sky with an Estrella Damm beer in hand. In the words of Brad Paisley, "It doesn't get better than this."

I could go back to Peru at this point and post blogs about what happened the rest of my stay there and then Brazil where I saw the Pope and Mexico where I enjoyed life to the fullest... But that would take way too long and due to my own laziness, I guess you'll have to hear about those stories in person.

Spain... What an incredible country. I arrived in Madrid on September 20th and spent the first couple days just exploring the city. However, on the 23rd of September, I achieved one of my life goals by running with the bulls in a small village called Villaviciosa. Contrary to what most Spanish people immediately assume, I was neither drunk nor hungover for this rare occasion. I wanted to survive. However, I was short on sleep after getting to bed around 3 am and waking up at 7:30.

When we arrived in the streets of this great city, everyone immediately knew I was a foreigner. It probably had something to do with the backwards trucker hat that said CALIFORNIA on the front. I don't know if they were more surprised that a foreigner found this place or that I was walking straight and visibly sober. The festivities quickly began.

My new friends in Spain recommended I at least watch the first bull run by so I can get a feel for exactly what would be happening. I obliged after an assurance that there would be 5 more bulls running by right after. I figured 5 runs was enough for one day.

Here's what the street looked like. The smart people are behind the fence, I am pretty damn well trapped if I fall or forget how to climb a 7 foot wall.

This is what pursued.

Now I realize it looks like I wasn't very close at all, and the reality is I wasn't. But that was also the first run and also I was holding my iPhone which about 25 people warned me not to do. . I did 4 more after that and it got heavy. I started getting a little bit too brave and that's when I decided to enter the bull ring with the bulls and nearly lost my leg as I tried to jump a wall to escape. Playing hockey, I should have been pretty good at this but it's been like 5 years and I wasn't on skates. Where everything went wrong was when my friends told me we had to leave and I hadn't exactly had my fill of adrenaline. I ran towards the bull and started jumping up and down and yelling at him. Well, apparently bulls don't like that and he went straight at me. I lived, and that's all that matters.

I don't have a video of that precise instant (for obvious reasons) but you'll get the idea from this video of right after I jumped in the arena. 

Panorama of the Arena

After getting my fill of adrenaline, my friends invited me to a Real Madrid game. I don't usually care for soccer--excuse me, futbol--but I couldn't pass up one of the biggest teams in the world so I once again fell to peer pressure. The game was pretty exciting. We were sitting in the nosebleeds, of course, because any other ticket would have broken the bank. 

During my last few days in Madrid, I stayed with a friends brother. We rode a motorcycle through Madrid to the Prado Museum and then I gave him and his wife a golf lesson which he claimed was my rent for staying at his beautiful apartment. All in all, Madrid was an incredible experience. 

That's not to say that Barcelona hasn't had it's own adventures of course. 

Since I first attended a bull fight in Aguascalientes, Mexico, I have pretty much become obsessed with the art. Yes, it is an art and let nobody tell you otherwise. However, bull-fighters, in my opinion, come second only to Rejoneadors. I don't think there's an english translation to this particular art, but I really wish PETA didn't have so much power so we could get this going in the States. Basically, a demigod since atop a stallion that is so well trained I'm convinced the damn horse can read the riders mind. Both the horse and the demigod are placed in the bull ring together with a bull that looks like it just emerged from hell. Like bull-fighting, the man uses decorated spears that hook into the bulls back to make it bleed before finishing the bull with a final thrust of his sword between his shoulder blades into its lungs. 

That all sounds terrible, difficult, and impressive, but imagine doing all of that on top of a horse. That's what Pablo Hermoso de Mendoza does for a living. I learned about this guy from Spanish friends back home and watched some of his videos online and fell in love with everything he does. I'm positive I'm his biggest fan in California and will be his only fan in China. 

Here's an example of why they call this art: Pablo Hermoso de Mendoza and Merlin

So I knew when I arrived to Spain that one of the things I absolutely had to do was see this demigod in person. However, it's also the end of summer which means the end of bull-fighting season and I was in Barcelona where the liberal bull-lovers decided to make bull-fighting illegal. None of that stopped me. 

I found Pablo's schedule online and the closest he would ever be to me on my journey through Spain was in the town of Alquerías del Niño Perdido which has a population of 4,500 people. This was my next destination. Of course, I had to get there first. 

Me on my journey to the Middle of Nowhere, Spain. 

After waking up at 7 am, taking a 3 hour train ride to Castellón and another 1 hour train ride to Alqueriás, I only needed to figure out how to buy tickets. Luckily for me, everyone in this place might just be a saint. I talked to about 3 people in the first 10 minutes and they all offered to walk me the 20 minutes to get to the City Hall where they would have all the information. Once I got there, they sold me the tickets at a discount because they learned I was from California and had come just to see Pablo Hermoso. Finally, the lovely lady recommended I eat at a restaurant across the way because all the bull-fighters were going to be there in 45 minutes. What a gal. 

While Pablo never showed up for the lunch, I was still about 3 hours away from witnessing what I had, in theory, come all the way to Spain to witness. I walked another 30 minutes to the Plaza de Toros, which couldn't have held more than 2,000 people. 

Small Arena, perfect for the up close videos!

My first proof he would actually be here. The horses are majestic... There is no other word. 

Since I was pretty much the first person there, I was able to talk to all the people working on his horses getting them ready. They were so nice and spoke decent english as well. One of them gave me a big picture of Pablo and told me when he gets here that she would help me get a picture with him and introduce me to him. I felt like my little sister going backstage to meet Justin Bieber.... sad but true. 

For the rest of the blog, I'll let the pictures and videos do the talking. 

My special meet and greet with the man himself before the festivities.

Before watching: If you think this is a brutal sport, don't push play. If you realize that what this man is doing on top of this horse is absolutely astounding, you'll love this video. I've never seen anything so beautiful in my life that was made or done by man.

The Kill: This part is also pretty impressive although not quite as impressive as the previous video. I kind of just put this up to piss off my faithful PETA followers.

And last thing before I go. I don't know how I got so lucky, but apparently this lineup of bull-fighters was absolutely incredible. The guy that came up next was a traditional bull-fighter named Juan Jose Padilla. If you think those videos above are rough, youtube this guy and you'll see why he wears an eye-patch when he fights bulls now. He lost his eye last year to a bull and he was back at it in this arena again yesterday. The guy is nuts and has no fear. He was literally on his knees fighting the bull and his clothes were blood-soaked because he was touching the bull every time it went by. See the eye patch below. 

As always, to zoom in click on the picture and check out his eyepatch!

Take away for the day: Patience and a dive head first attitude makes shit happen. 

Hope you enjoyed the blog because I don't know when I'll write another one. I realize the writing is pretty dull but I hope the pictures make up for it. 

Pray that I make it out of the Holy Land alive so I can start working... 

Michael Luke Grande

I know this probably isn’t what our parents want to hear after 4 days in the Amazon Jungle, but here it goes: we entered the jungle as boys and have emerged as men--with a baby named in our honor.

You can exhale, it’s neither of ours. However, it turns out Luke and I are pretty likeable people and when you put us together, it’s really hard not to love us. Ok, I’m being slightly narcissistic—but let the facts speak for themselves.

Middle of nowhere, Requena, Peru--the Amazon

We entered the Amazon Jungle a hostile 400 kilometers away from the nearest town, Iquitos. Now, that sounds pretty intense in and of itself, but combine that with the fact that Iquitos is already pretty much in the middle of nowhere taking the title as the largest city that is inaccessible by car in the world—we couldn’t have been more isolated. In fact, one of the reasons we were hesitant to take this particular tour was because it was an hour away from a phone. Considering it takes a measly 1.5 hours for a Amazonian Green Viper to kill you, we weren’t reassured.

Our journey to Tapiche Ohara Reserve required a 20 minute taxi ride, 2 hour bus ride, 2 hour speed boat, and a 4 hour speed boat thereafter. In all, it tooks us about 11 hours to get to this desolate but beautiful place.

Really beautiful...

That’s really beside the point. It was worth it. We arrived to our little hut with hammocks inside. Now, as most of you know, I am usually pretty good at being in the outdoors and living like a rugged mountain man. The jungle is different. For one, it’s like living in a steam room in Death Valley with boiling water being poured over your head. Number two, there is so much life in the jungle that everywhere you look you’re staring at some animal or plant that will do you harm. Number three, mosquitos are absolutely Satan’s minions—and this place could very well be the biggest city in hell. Number four, I’ve never seen so many spiders in my life. I wish I could explain this to you or show a picture, but I can’t. In our little hut, the entire ceiling was covered in hundreds if not thousands of spiders the size of a hand. We turned off the light and I put my headlamp on and looked up. Biggest mistake of my life. I could literally see thousands of yellow reflectors looking back at me. Apparently spider eyes reflect yellow with LEDs. For someone who likes spiders, I had a really hard time with this.

It's glowing and it's right above my head.


This one is for Pablo. Massive.

It was extremely hard to sleep in this place. Absolutely the biggest negative. Luke was so terrified of the spiders he slept completely encapsulated in his sleeping bag in 80 degree heat and 80% humidity. Apparently sleeping bags can protect people from spiders. Who knew?

Luke about to encase himself in his sleeping bag for added heat and protection.

The first day was our lagoon adventure. We took another 2 hour boat ride to the second biggest lake in Peru. It was so peaceful with thousands and thousands of birds flying everywhere and even nesting on one end of the lake. What we learned is that Caiman’s like to live where birds nest so when the baby’s drop into the water, they have lunch.

I thought it was land. We just breezed through it. 

 Anyway, we somehow managed to get the boat into the swamp at the end of the lake and realized we were literally in Caiman heaven. The first Caiman we saw was bordering on 15 feet according to our guide.

The 15-footer, I dove in after her but she escaped.

After admiring the Caimans for about thirty minutes, I decided I was ready to replace Steve Irwin and take one of these damn things on. We snuck up in the boat on a Caiman that was 12 feet long (see below). I realized this was one of those times that there was no room for hesitation. Unfortunately, I hesitated. I reached my hand own on the damn Caiman’s neck and pretty much snapped it back because I was convinced I was lunchmeat for this thing.

If you look closely, you can see the monster that almost took off my hand.

No Caiman for lunch on Thursday. Instead we headed over to the fishing grounds where I racked up a solid contribution to our lunch. A whole two piranhas. More than anyone else, except our guide, but still not sufficient.

My first piranha. It looks small but it was the biggest one we caught. 

Luckily, we had put down a 200 meter net down the river to catch some bigger fish in case we sucked at fishing, which apparently we did. After finding our catch and getting rid of the one fish that had been torn apart by piranhas and the other one that was attacked by a Caiman, we had scrounged up enough food to call it a lunch.

Victor with the fish that was devoured by the piranhas...

Now we kind of arrive at the part where Michael and Luke have to make everything a little bit more dangerous/exciting/terrifying/stupid. Our guide Victor had mentioned that we shouldn’t swim in the Amazon as it was a really dangerous body of water. We kind of already knew that. Luke watched House once and wouldn’t stop talking about the fish that swims up your urethra when you jump in the Amazon. He also couldn’t stop talking about the 15 foot Caimans or the piranhas that can pick a corpse of all its meat within 5 minutes. None of that phased me. Or Luke, in fact. On our way back home, we asked our guide where we could swim in the Amazon because we couldn’t leave without at least jumping in. He said we shouldn’t do it anywhere but if we were going to do it we should do it in the middle of the lake. Well, we just happened to be in the middle of the lake. This is the same lake we caught piranha in. This is also the same lake that a 15 foot Caiman passed under our boat and ate one of our fish.

We were ready to go. After about 15 minutes of contemplating what exactly we wanted Victor to tell our parents if we didn’t make it out alive, we counted down from 3 in German (that was to please our Swiss friends in the boat with us—at least they weren’t French-Swiss). We jumped into what we thought would be our death.

 

Just before the jump. Unfortunately, we only have video of the swim so you'll have to see it later.

I’d like to tell you we swam around for 20 minutes enjoying our incredibly warm water and petting the Caimans but that would be an absolute farce. If we stayed in the water more than 5 seconds I’d buy everyone reading this blog a beer. I don’t think the guide had ever seen anyone get back into a canoe so fast in his life. He was keeled over laughing so hard he almost coughed up his fake teeth.

We finally arrived back in the spider-filled rooms for a wonderful night sleep… sarcasm. It’s kind of hard to sleep when you know spiders are falling from the ceiling into your hammock. We knew this was happening because the first morning we woke up and turned on the lights, there were about 5 spiders on the floor dead and there happened to be one abseiling from the ceiling and missing Luke’s hammock by an inch at most.

The next day was nice, though. We took off on a hike through the rainforest. Apparently the hike was supposed to be a couple hours, but our wonderful guide Victor, who loves us, decided to take us on a 7 hour hike to the point where he was literally lost and I began to think of ways to survive one night in the jungle.

 

Luckily, when we ran out of water, Victor knew exactly where to find some.

He also taught us that if we break a termite nest and let the termites crawl on our hands then rub them together, we can put it all over our body and it acts as a mosquito repellant. It was also used to mask the smell of hunters as they hunted big animals.

However, during this 7-hour journey we saw 8 species of monkeys. An average group sees about 2-3. We aren’t average. We also saw an ant-eater and we are the first group to ever see River Otters in this area of the Amazon. Victor had treated us well.

We had an incredible day and it got even more incredible when we finally found our boat.

After lunch, Victor asked us if we wanted to do another walk through the jungle… of course we did. Walking through the jungle isn’t necessarily for the faint of heart. There are millions of things you have to worry about that could kill you—or just hurt you a lot. I was bit by a fire ant and thought I was going to lose my entire arm I was in so much pain. There are dozens of species of snakes that can kill a person within hours. In fact, Victor lost his grandmother to one of these snakes. Cougars, frogs, snakes, spiders, just about anything in the jungle can kill you if you aren’t careful.

We entered the jungle one more time. As we were driving the boat to a remote part of the jungle… again… we heard some howler monkeys in the distance. Howler monkeys are famous for howling so loud you can hear them over 3 miles away. We heard them and they were close.

Victor asked us if we wanted to try and see them. Of course we did. He said we had to get off the boat and run when we hit shore. As soon as we touched the ground, we took off running through spiderwebs and just about anything that before we were terrified of. After running for about 20 minutes, we finally found the howlers. Victor was so excited. He said he was worried we missed them and he would not have been content until he found them. An incredible way to finish the day. Especially since it was getting dark and we were in prime cougar-hunting territory. And I'm not talking about the bars I frequent at home kind of cougar hunting.

We spent another night in the jungle and made it out alive. It was honestly one of the most intense experiences I’ve ever been through. I’ve lived in some very dire situations but none can quite live up to the incredible terror I felt during my time in the jungle. On the one hand it was absolutely liberating because we were completely cut off from the world. The nearest phone was an hour away. On the other hand, it made it so much more frightening knowing that even if something bad happened, we couldn’t really be saved.

I’m glad we are out alive but I also can’t wait to go back. But I need to finish the story about the one person in the world that has taken a liking to Luke and me. His name is Victor, our guide. He had so much fun listening to us scream out country music lyrics and talk about life in the jungle from an American perspective that he decided he wanted to remember us always. His wife is expecting their 5^th child in the next couple days. He told us that if he has a son, he will name him Michael Luke Grande. I can’t make this up.

I know this blog has a lot of jest and is generally one big joke about stuff that happens while I’m traveling, but this is completely different. It’s kind of mesmerizing what we can do by just being kind and making people feel like they are equal to you no matter who they are. I’m not trying to get preachy, but the fact is that we met Victor, our guide, and decided he was going to be our friend first and foremost. When we made that decision, he decided that he wanted to give us, his friends, the best adventure in the jungle possible. We talked to him like a friend, not an employee, and he treated us in kind. I don’t know if he really will name his son after us or not, but the reality is, it doesn’t matter. Victor, myself, and Luke, were able to spend 4 days in the jungle laughing and having a great time learning more about each other. Apparently that’s all it takes to make someone take a picture of you and send it to his wife and tell her that their next son will be named after you.

The power of love and friendship… it’s incredible.

God Bless.

Michael

Couple more pictures of the beautiful scenery:

Green Tree Frog

Great Egret

Black Caiman

Sunset

It really looks like this in the sky!

This is Luke climbing up to the roof of our hostel to dry our clothes in Iquitos.

Caiman is technically a threatened species and after eating it, I know why. So good. 

Just cruising the jungle.

This Blog's for the Parents

So we kind of realize that much of our blogging has been about dangerous adventures in a somewhat sketchy city between the hours of 2 am and 8 am. I'm here to change that.

Since arriving in the beautiful Patagonian village of San Carlos de Bariloche, our trip has taken a dramatic turn for the better--at least what we're sure to believe our parents will think is better. Instead of operating on a schedule of 4 pm wake up calls and 7 am bed time, we have been doing many more things during the day since our time here and consistently get up around 8 am. This is primarily because everything beautiful about this place can only be enjoyed when the sun is up. And this place is extremely beautiful.

We arrived June 12th and have since mountain biked 30 kilometers, climbed the tallest mountain in the area, had the best steak of our lives, and also sampled some incredible chocolate for which this place is famous. All in two days. It's really impossible to describe the beauty of this place, but of the places I've been it's something like a cross between Lake Tahoe and New Zealand.

We arrived in Bariloche with a hostel and virtually zero plans but when you stay at a hostel, the recommendations for things to do are virtually endless. In fact, there are people that have been staying in this town for 5 months and others who are just staying here for the entire winter season to snowboard. There are so many incredible things to do. Right now on our list of possible excursions we're considering skydiving, horseback riding in the mountains, four-wheeling, golfing, renting a car and driving, etc. Unfortunately we'll probably only be able to do two of these things since we leave Monday afternoon for our Amazon adventure in Peru.

I diverge. The first thing we did was wake up on Thursday morning and head to the most beautiful mountain biking loop in the area. I've tried mountain biking once before with my wonderful brother-in-law, Ken, and it was more than I could handle. He may be in his 40's but he rides a bike like he's 20. I don't.

Lucky for me, this mountain biking trek was primarily on a paved road. Unfortunately, it was also full of hills that destroyed my ego when Luke took off up them and waited for me at the top of every single one. I blame it on my 2 years of aging over him.

The views were absolutely incredible. I've been to some beautiful places in the world but this spot is definitely up there with the best of them.

Short hike off the road to the beach. 

Panorama of that same beach.

This is called the "Hidden Lake." It's hidden. Which is why... 

We decided it was necessary to jump in. We didn't have bathing suits. Read between the lines.

During the mountain biking trek we stopped dozens of times for pictures because around every turn was another breathtaking view. Sometimes the views were mediocre, but my need for oxygen made taking pictures a favorite pastime.

While on the loop around the lakes and mountains, we came across one of the most incredible hotels I've ever seen. Supposedly it's a 5-Star hotel that we could never afford, but maybe one day my Dad and I will come back here and I'll recommend it as the spot to be! After all, it has a golf course that puts Pebble Beach to shame. It has the beautiful lake views combined with the snow-capped Patagonian mountains that people usually only read about. Not to mention, it's a measly $40 per round.

Dad, isn't this place tempting? Notice the golf course in the foreground.

After the bike ride, my legs were pretty much shot. We headed back to the hostel and got some recommendations for some steakhouses around town. We found a spot where they have 400 gram steaks for $10. It was an easy decision. The only bad part about the restaurant, and apparently every restaurant in this town, is that they don't even open until around 8 pm. And that's considered extremely early. According to the owner, locals don't even start eating dinner until around 9:30 or 10 pm.

After the steakhouse we were invited by some locals for a beer at the brewery across the street from our hostel. We again proceeded to have a great time talking about our adventures over a couple beers. Once again, Luke proved to me the importance of improving my Spanish as he stole the show with his superb language skills. I really need to do some work. Everything was going well for him until someone took my cell phone and started looking at my pictures and stumbled upon some compromising paparazzi pictures of Luke. Those pictures will not be posted. They can be viewed by email request only.

Finally, we called it a night around 11 pm and headed to bed. This morning, we decided it would be a great day to climb the highest peak, Catedral. With poor planning as usual, Luke and I decided to get our clothes washed last night. That meant that all we had for this hike was shorts for Luke and windbreakers over t-shirts. To say we froze during our 2 hour hike would be an understatement.

We headed out looking like stupid tourists wearing shorts and t-shirts up a peak that reaches 2,000 meters. At the bottom they told us it would take 3-4 hours--they don't know Americans very well. We summited in less than two hours. I think the cold motivated us to get it done as soon as physically possible. The views from this peak are supposed to be the best in Bariloche, Unfortunately, we decided to climb on a day where the fog cover was so bad we could barely see 50 feet in front of us. The pictures below don't really give this place justice, but it was also pretty fun climbing through fog and having virtually no idea where we were going. As with most of our adventures, we had no idea where we were going. At the bottom of the mountain we asked people where the trail was and they simply told use to just start climbing--we did--without a trail. Eventually we found some roads but they kept meandering up the mountain so we took the direct route through snow and rocks. Maybe that's why we made such good time.

Excellent visibility.

It cleared up for like 5 minutes. Enlarge this picture. It's a panorama.

At the summit we ate at the restaurant and had some much-deserved coffee with hundreds of other tourists that had taken the Gondola up--suckers. Everyone was staring at us since it was 32 degrees and we pulled up in shorts and t-shirts. Nobody really believed we climbed the whole thing which explains why nobody checked our tickets for the Gondola ride back down. One Paraguayan guys kept yelling at us from the ski-lift, "You crazy Americans!" We loved it.

Right before the guy yelled at us. 

Our ride down was much easier than the walk up but it was kind of terrifying since we couldn't even see the ground from the Gondola with all the fog. After that, we took the bus back to town and walked around looking for some shops to buy souvenirs and chocolate. We stumbled upon the second Cathedral of the day. This one was the Cathedral for the Archdiocese here which actually is one of the most beautiful churches I've ever been in outside of Rome. It was right on the water and had a spire that was about 120 feet up. We'll definitely be going there for mass on Sunday. During the walk back home I ended up buying an awesome leather hat for $40 and Luke spent about $10 on some chocolate that would put Hershey's out of business.

Lakeside Cathedral.

My new hat and the guy that sold it to me. 

That's all for now. Pictures below for your enjoyment. I'm going to shower and maybe nap before dinner. Miss you all and hope to have some more great pictures in the next couple of days before heading to the Amazon.

God Bless.

Lessons from an Unprepared Traveler in South America

The mere fact that I'm currently writing a blog from the safety of our humble apartment in Buenos Aires is nothing short of a miracle that probably was granted us because of the Rosary I decided to pray while we were in the middle of nowhere in Uruguay.

I'll briefly describe our Saturday night before the real story begins. We went out to a terrible salsa dancing club where there was a stage full of Cuban guys showing us how to dance if it happens to be your goal to attract other men. It clearly wasn't for us. Especially once the lead dancer started sticking out his tongue and winking at Luke. We were all uncomfortable... Luke may or may not have simply enjoyed the attention of a non-Colombian who wasn't going to break his heart. Only his heart knows.

He's the guy with the black shirt and only one button. Fourth from the left.

We left. We got back home around 2 am thinking it would be cheaper to just have a few drinks at home and then head to another dance club in Palermo which is supposed to be the most fun place in the entire city. It didn't disappoint. We ended up at a place called Brook where we spent about 3 hours dancing and having a great time. When it closed around 5 am we thought the night was over--we were very naïve. Out on the street, we started talking to some girl who was alone and waiting for her friend to pick her up. She was pretty awesome. Her friend, Veronica, pulled up in a BMW that probably cost $60,000 in the US meaning it was more along the lines of $90,000 in this God-forsaken country.

Instead of just leaving the three of us to get a taxi home, Marina invited us to jump in her friends car and go to the after-hours party at Ink. We had heard about Ink but blew it off as a place that we couldn't afford since it's the hottest club in Buenos Aires and usually only open to people that have been invited. We were invited. The girls just told us not to talk and to follow them in. Veronica, our driver, apparently has more connections in Buenos Aires than Barack Obama has wiretaps. Yea, I made this political... sorry.

We got to the club and walked straight up to the VIP section which was full of people that looked like they had too much money and then there were two Americans and a Colombian. That was us. Not only did we not look the part, we were completely blown away about what had just happened. Which brings me to my first lesson that I'd like to impart on my loyal followers for this blog: Never be afraid to talk to anyone, especially if they look friendly and know way more about the city that you're traveling in.

We had the best time of our entire stay in Argentina thus far and it was all because we simply said hello to some girl that looked like she needed help outside a club.

Which leads me to another vital lesson--one that I know well, but that hasn't ever really been applied to me, it's usually just applied to friends of mine visiting me in China. When you're in a country with someone who speaks the local language better than you, you're only as good as that person wants you to look. While I was the one who initiated the conversation with Marina, Luke was the one who eventually won her heart. I blame it entirely on my inability to conjugate Spanish verbs. Luke hasn't stopped texting her since we left that club. I smell a romance brewing. I better be the best man.

Marina is in the middle. Clearly.

When Sunday rolled around, we definitely knew it would be a good idea to attend mass but we also knew that getting to Church before 5 pm wasn't really a possibility since we finally made it to bed around 8 am. Luckily for us, we had done our research and found a mass that started at 7 pm. When I woke up around 4 pm, my first words were, "Luke we don't have any more eggs for breakfast. It's also 4 pm, though."

After 7 pm mass we decided our best play was to try and get to bed relatively early and catch the train to Tigre where we could get a ferry to Uruguay and take out US dollars to bring back and exchange at a more reasonable rate than the one we had been getting at ATMs. Our lovely Colombian Aunt promised us that boats left Tigre every 15 minutes for Colonia. Well, she was wrong. We got to Tigre around 2 pm hoping to get a ferry right away and then another one back that night so we wouldn't have to spend more money for a hotel in Uruguay. As usually is the case when we don't plan very well, we were quite surprised to find out that only two boats left Tigre every day for Colonia and they had already left. Our only option was a boat that left Tigre for a city called Carmelo. Now, there's a reason only one boat leaves for this city every day. It's because nobody really wants to go there. It has a population of about 18,000 according to Wikipedia and has one hotel.

At this point, once again, Luke was ready to head home and cut our losses. I wasn't that easily convinced. Which leads me to another important lesson. There's never an adventure that should be forsaken simply because no planning has taken place. God will always provide a way out and if he doesn't, at the very least, he'll give you the strength to endure whatever suffering is required to survive. After about 2 hours of bantering, I finally convinced Luke that plans are for the weak. True adventurers first act and then put their heads together to find solutions as the challenges arrive. Luke said the only reason he acquiesced was because the same thing happened at the soccer game and we ended up having an incredible night.

Us on the boat to Carmelo.

We bought two tickets to Carmelo. The boat was supposed to leave at 5:30 pm and was supposed to be a two hour ride across the River. We were kind of banking on this because the woman that sold us our tickets told us that there should be a bus leaving Carmelo for Colonia at around 8 pm. That meant if we were 30 minutes late, we would probably have to stay in this small town with no hotel and nowhere to go. I've always wanted to try living homeless for a night to understand what it's like.

We almost got that opportunity. The boat left 45 minutes late and we arrived in Carmelo around 9 pm. With no idea what to do, we decided to run to the city center with the hopes of finding a bus that might be late or willing to take us to Colonia. Really, we were living on a prayer. This city had more rabid dogs walking around the Tijuana and there was at most 2 people in the entire city square by the time we got there.

We ran with our one backpack that had a bottle of water and an extra jacket. Remember, we had no intentions of spending the night in Uruguay. But there we were in a city alone with zero Uruguayan pesos and no idea of what our next move might be.

When we got to the city center we pulled out as much US dollars that we could and then about a hundred dollars worth of pesos. We ran to the bus stop and as I said, miracles happen. There was a bus that was leaving at 10:30 pm. We bought our tickets to freedom and ran to the nearest restaurant to get some sustenance.

Luke stoked we got our bus tickets.

Uruguayan food is incredible.

The bus ride was only an hour and we arrived in the very beautiful town of Colonia around 11:30 pm. Then we realized once again we had no game plan. After asking around, we found out the first boat left Colonia for Buenos Aires around 4:30 am. We definitely didn't need a place to sleep. On a Monday night in Colonia, turns out the only promising option was to spend the whole night in a casino. But first we wanted to go try a local beer. While at the bar, we struck up a conversation with the bartender. He talked to us for about an hour and we decided to ask him if he was in our position, what he would do for the next 3 hours until we had to be at the port.

The bartender is the guy on the left. He would put us in a precarious situation later.

That was our first pretty big mistake. Which leads me to another important lesson. Even if two countries claim to speak the same language, that isn't necessarily always the case. In Argentina the world for dance club is boliche. Not so much in Uruguay. The bartender called a taxi and we were on our way to what he claimed was the best boliche in Colonia around 1 am. He told us the place was right next to the airport so when we saw the airport signs we had high hopes. We also realized that we could be on our way to an organ factory where we would meet our maker and we would be dismembered and sold on the black market for a couple thousand dollars. Well, luckily that wasn't the case, but the reality of what happened wasn't exactly much better.

We turned down a really dark alley that didn't have a street sign and wasn't a paved road. I looked to Luke and simply said, "Seriously, be ready to jump out of this car and run as fast as we can into the darkness." We were both pretty terrified. Then we pulled up to what looked like a house. My hand was on the car door. Then he told us we had arrived. There was one woman in the window and the place was absolutely empty. He told us to walk in and check it out. We thought we should just leave. He insisted it was a great place and to knock on the door. We told him that he needed to wait 2 minutes because it didn't look quite like what we had hoped for.

After we opened the door, we immediately realized that boliche in Uruguayan spanish could only mean one thing: brothel. The place was absolutely disgusting and had girls playing pool and a hallway of rooms with a bar full of guys.

We got back in the taxi and got the hell out of there as fast as we could. Our only remaining option was the Casino at the Radisson hotel which was open until 3 am and would put us only an hour before boarding our boat back to Buenos Aires.

I snapped this picture of the wonderful boliche as we were driving away.

The casino was anything but exciting. We realized we had to gamble a little bit in order to justify being in the place at all. We sat down with $30 USD and literally lost it all in 3 hands. Our gambling was over. We headed to the casino bar and ordered a few drinks. The night was just getting worse with every decision. Finally, I decided to ask the pit boss if he would give us free drinks if we gambled more. His answer was a none-too-ecstatic yes. They poured us another round and we changed $50 USD into chips for the blackjack table--but it was closed. They were going to make us play roulette and Luke refused since he supposedly did an entire research paper on the probability of winning at roulette and was adamantly against it. I put all my money down on black.

After the boliche, before the casino.

I'd love to end this story with me winning $50 to put us back above even but that's not what happened. The pit boss told us we were only allowed to bet a minimum of $100 on colors. I took back my $50 chip as Luke and I tried to figure out our next move. Since they had just purchased us two drinks, we kind of felt obligated to gamble a little bit but our only option was roulette and that wasn't a very good one.

I began thinking and usually when that happens, Luke gets worried. I told Luke that our next play was for him to go outside, get my backpack at the coat check and I would change my $50 chip for cash again and we would sprint out of the place and toward the boat dock. He didn't like the idea, but it ended up working quite well. We left the place having only lost $30 and picked up two free drinks along the way.

The rest of the story is quite similar to what you would expect. We made it to the boat at 4 am. It was supposed to leave at 4:30 but ended up leaving about 2.5 hours late. We got back home around 8 am and slept until 4 pm. We had planned to change all the money we had taken out, but by the time we got to the back alley money-changing site, it was closed.

So here we are, sitting in our hotel room with 0 pesos and $300 USD in our pockets. We leave tomorrow for Bariloche and we don't want to exchange our money at a bank because we will get skewered.

Let's hope God has another miracle in store for us tomorrow morning before we catch our flight.

God Bless Argentina and all of you for reading this really long blog post.

Michael

Pictures for your enjoyment:

Sunset on the boat ride from Tigre to Carmelo.

We met another awesome dog that we named Milo again in Colonia.

On the boat back home to Buenos Aires. Pretty much summed up the past 24 hours.