Bariloche, Argentina

Immediately upon arrival at my hostel on Feb 6th, I made another impulsive splurge РI really need to stop doing that, eh?  I booked whitewater rafting for the following day, having never done it.

In my dorm room of eight people, I met Renzo, a porte√Īo on holiday with his friends Alejandro and Eduardo – all three were just a smidgeon younger than me. ¬†Renzo spoke the best English out of the three, though I really was trying with my Spanish. ¬†As seems to be a common theme with the Latinos I’ve met, they were all shocked that I was travelling by myself at my age and without fluency in Spanish, but appreciated that I tried. ¬†(I guess they haven’t really been talking to other foreign travellers then, cause there’s plenty of people like me around, and plenty more that don’t know any Spanish!) ¬†Within one minute, Renzo offered me mate.

Mate¬†(sounds like ma-tay) is a very common drink I’ve been seeing for the past few weeks, and it seems that it is inseparable from Argentinians. ¬†People carry around a gourd (itself called mate) made of wood, a pack of yerba mate leaves, and a thermos or pot of hot water. ¬†Everywhere. ¬†I’ve always been curious to try it, and to be offered some without any sort of prompting was a pleasant surprise. Continue reading