I spent the last day on this trip all by myself.
Not that I had planned it that way. Maybe I should have.
But on Saturday, instead of seeing old and new friends, one thing after the other fell through. Same thing Sunday morning.
Everyone either did not respond at all, or hours too late, or cancelled and changed plans, or did show up, but hours, hours after me – when I was leaving, bored out of my mind.
Argentina, you and I will never agree on the concept of time and timing. Ever.
At one point I just wanted to switch my phone off, so I don’t check if I finally hear back. Switch off and just go by my day.
It’s quite a letdown, at the end of this stay in Buenos Aires, and this trip.
Especially in comparison to the drinks and parties and farewells in Melbourne, Santiago, Montreal, Seattle… I didn’t get to say good-bye to anyone, and spent the last day and a half all by myself (I haven’t started talking to myself, yet).
So I’m leaving Buenos Aires, and Argentina, a bit sad, essentially. Then, maybe that’s what I need to get on this plane.
I went for a swim. I went to the museum and had a great experience.
I had dinner with myself in my favorite Café. I discovered a cool new bar in Palermo, called Peuteo, had a couple of beers and watched the Buenos Aires Pub Crawl crash the place.
And I danced by myself to Depeche Mode, Michael Jackson, Madonna and Cyndi Lauper in Glam, before heading home.
It’s all good. After all, I am traveling by myself, and I know this happens. I am good at this. I would not have managed to travel 18 months by myself if I weren’t. It’s good to know I can rely on that, when things don’t work out as planned.
And no one is obliged to meet me or make my day.
It’s just another lesson in having no expectations, whatsoever.