(Me, Doug, Kenny, and Ari trapped in a drenched, packed bus near the BA Playa)
We met up with Ari outside our Aguero apartment in the afternoon. The plan was to go for a long walk, just hang out, explore, and learn a bit about Buenos Aires. We stopped by a cafe and had some lunch. It was here that we got our first clue that no one in Argentina knows what an Indian person looks like (more on this later. the owner/server guessed that we were from “Arabia” or Israel).
After a few hours of urban exploring, we end up near the Buenos Aires Playa. The beach is near the outskirts of the city and requires an adventurous walk to get to. So there we were, among the plebes in the outskirts of Buenos Aires, just shooting the shit. It’s worth noting that the “Buenos Aires Goggles” that afflicted us in the city seemed to have faded as we made it to the outskirts.
So we’re chilling on our beach chairs… and we notice the clouds start to darken. “It’s ok,” we think. “Everyone else is just chilling here…” So we wait, continue just shooting the shit and enjoying the sand. We look up again, and see this:
Oh shit. Ok. Time to leave right?
NOPE. Doug, our trusty Bear Grylls-Survivor-Man-Outdoorsy-Fanatic, looks up and is like “Nah, don’t worry guys, it’ll go around us.”
Yeah he was fucking wrong.
In about 5 minutes, an insane downpour was upon us. We just ran back the way the way we came with no plan — we were really, really far from the city center and needed to find a bus, but where were the busses? It actually felt like the wrath of Thor was upon us. The rain pelted us like little bullets. As I sprinted along, I could feel my nipples crying out in pain, my shoes flooded with water, my hair matted to my head…
Finally, we spot a little bus. It’s filled to the brim with soaked people. We manage to squeak inside. We ended up camping out in the bus for about an hour with our hands on our valuables. The bus was PACKED. I was afraid that if it made a turn, we’d just tip over. Oh well. The bus driver started up and got us out of the Playa.
… and it was another 2 hours of frantic bus switching, avoiding HUGE currents of floody water in the streets, trying to piece together a ripped up, soaked map, etc before we made it home.
Whew. But wait: that’s not the even the worst part. Doug didn’t wash his wet stinky clothes for a WEEK. Haha. The apartment smelled like rancid mold.
Sometimes while traveling, the most random, serendipitous events can lead to the exhilarating adventures you remember most.