Ida Y Vuelta Y Ida Tambien

I wandered out of the Callao Subte station down Viamonte, looking for the Paraguayan consulate, pausing every few blocks to reorient myself with my crumbling map. I was alone, as usual, and as I then knew I would be for the next month and a half. No one would be coming down to South America to meet me and, with no one to tell me better, I scrapped Brazil (and its 120 dollar reciprocity fee) and decided to go for broke on the dusty trail through the Chaco, into the heart of South America.

You'd think I'd be depressed at all of this; the flimsy hints of plans I had were still plans, and to abandon them stung just a little. But as I was standing in the Paraguayan consulate waiting for my visa, it all sort of crystallized in my mind, this new idea that for almost two months I can make my own life on the road, staying where it's worth staying, seeing what's worth seeing, and dictating the pace, the timing, of everything. I had nothing to wait for, nothing to look forward to - only now, only the present, me and the road.

At the same time, a Argentinian kid, probably seventeen, came into the consulate and bribed the visa official with seventeen hundred dollar bills. No words were exchanged. In fact, the Paraguayans wouldn't take anything but American bills - not Argentine pesos, not their own Paraguayan guarani. Such is the world.

When I arrived in Buenos Aires, there were four other people in my room, including Caroline's replacement, Stuart, a fastidious Mexican, a Brazilian I didn't see much, and a goofy-looking Frenchman. All, other than Stuart who is stuck looking for an apartment, were replaced by two British youths, both straight out of officer training. They were British, very British, and referred to each other by their last names like the sub-villains in Diamonds are Forever. "Mr. Fitch, see to it we bring the key back to the innkeeper." "Right-o, Mr. MacArthur."

They navigated the city with their military compass, taking bearings at street corners. Such is the world.

So I left Buenos Aires heading north on the long slow bus ride to Iguazu Falls. I think we changed a tire in the middle of the night but I was asleep. I woke up at about ten in the morning, stepped off the bus - three miles from Paraguay, two miles from Brazil, all by myself.