Behind the curtains
Having been informed that dinner would be served after eight thirty in the dining room behind the mysterious curtains, I was curious as to what lay behind them, because the entire hotel had a kind of Dr Who Tardis feel to it, in that it was so much larger inside than what it seemed from the outside.
Once our hostess drew back the curtains, we definitely felt we’d been transported into another century, albeit with the obligatory giant TV stuck on the far wall.
When I asked for the menu, we were informed that there wasn’t one, which simplified matters no end and our hostess rattled off what was available that day. But I had already decided that a massive plate of chips with two fried eggs on top and lashings of bread rolls and butter was what I really needed. Claudio went for beef milanesas with salad and our hostess was more than happy to oblige our simple choices.
Both of us were starving, shared each other’s meals and our hostess even joined us for company later on to chat about the latest town and national politics – subjects that are never far from an Argentine conversation, because living in this country can often feel like being tossed around inside a whirlwind, but that’s neither here nor there. Anyway, we finished every scrap of food and the bill (cash only) for two was only a little more than the cost of one room.
Before turning in, I snapped a few shots at sunset and observed that crash helmets are not very popular in the interior…
