It’s been a few weeks since my parents went home and a nagging suspicion is fast growing a valid premonition. I had a hunch that the south of South America might leave me with a long deserved lull in social experience.
I’m speaking of the balance in life that seems to rain true on most intimately important instances. That is, what comes up must come down (and fortunately, up again). Coming in from a fantastic 4 months in Europe and Africa, I hope that the balance is not equal in time.
At first there were just not a whole bunch of people in each of my given hostels to even talk to, but now it is a question of compatibility. Yes I’ve met some interesting folks, but their fierce differences don’t lend to the instant and timeless friend ships that I had the benefit of in New Zealand.
But this is not the first rodeo that I’ve been to. There is a whole world out here that needs living.
I’ve crossed over to Argentina once again to Bariloche, in the Lake District. Rolling in the bus on the way to town I am struck down by the ruggedness of this endless post card. As always, the bus keeps driving past some of the most picturesque visions I have ever seen. Be it tourist bus or transport bus, it always seems to ignore the very best.
One thing in Bariloche that is fun for the whole family are the mounds of yellow blossomed bushes. With flowers similar to snap dragons, these weeds of hope sprawl along the roadside. Their audacity could cause a scholar to concede in yellow as a primary color. With unbelievable resiliency, they punctuate the land disproving the hypothesis that South America is just a mirror continent of North. Plants don’t grow this way back home.
Blatantly in a botanist’s beard, golden pollen would gather. The land lacks a distinctive pine vapor that will be found in all the beauty of the America in the North. I went with a few guys from Canada to a viewing point and was pleasantly surprised with a café which had one star prices and a 12 star view. Empenadas were just a dollar a piece. Had this been in Europe, they would have been 10 euro.
Bariloche is a place of many tourists, but also a hefty dose of outdoors within reach. It is also the chocolate capital of Argentina. Quite wonderfully priced as well. I went on a 30K mountain bike ride which was almost completely up and down hill.
As I switched into 24th gear I powered down the steep hill so quickly that my fastest cadence could not keep up with my kinetic velocity. I could have done without the hills that I had to pedal in first gear to get up. To tell you the truth, I jumped off my bike to walk it up the majority of the times.
I promise that these posts are more of a vent than a cleverly constructed allegory (not quite sure I used that right, probably not), but as things make their way to paper, they tend to make their way to sense for me as well.
The point of it all, as it appears in this moment, is that when you get the opportunity of a declining hill, you shouldn’t just coast down it, because there will be an up hill battle around the corner. As we say in Californian Culture, “Bomb It”. When life seems easiest, when it is in it’s brightest burst of yellow, that’s the time to give it your all. That is the time make your mark on things. When things get a bit shit, jump off and walk your bike. Walk it to the top with Ernest. Save your best for the decline. And then Swing for the Stars.