30 days of fuzzy writing – an imperfect challenge
Me verás volar,
por la ciudad de la furia.
Donde nadie sabe de mi
Y yo soy, parte de todos…
– Gustavo Cerati
The pilot announces the landing. 10 minutes more and officially we will be touching the South American Capital. As the plane approaches the city, the multiple shapes of buildings down there appear at sight, inviting the newcomers to get lost and found around the many vibrant streets.
La ciudad de la furia awaits. I’ve been dreaming about coming here for a long time already. My heart beats with the excitement, oddly however, the excitement emulates that of a reunion more than a first time encounter… despite it is in fact the very first time that I visit Buenos Aires.
The plane smoothly reaches the ground, it’s been a long flight but I’m finally here. The airport as any big international airport is lively. The past couple of years have been tough for tourism but traveling starts being again the joyful experience it used to be in the pre-2020 era. Ministro Pistarini is full of people coming and going, and I rapidly find my way to pick my luggage and continue my journey. I’m bringing my big backpack with me, but this is all I need. The way to the downtown in the quest of my hostel is easy and I get absorbed in the view of the city passing by from the train window. I need to take a bus and then I’ll be in the city centre. Easy peasy. I think. As usual I find my way and get to my accommodation in the heart of the San Telmo neighbor. Some minutes more and the check in is done. I left my luggage… change my clothes (it’s been a long haul flight) and off to adventure.
Me veras volar…
Oh the city is beautiful, and the time passes like in a dream. I’m stunned by the melancholic magic all around, the tango music entices you and makes you wonder on the love lost, on the love to come… the tango music evokes a past you might not be sure of having lived, but somehow is there… like a deja-vu of nostalgia.
I wander around and visit all the places I want and my foreseen week here flies by. As the departure day approaches, I have yet another certitude written in my soul. I haven’t yet left, but I know that I will come back.
But first there is another place I need to see.
A week after I prepare myself to hit once again the road (figuratively, as actually I will catch a flight).
The same combination of transport, bus then train and there I’m in the airport again. Next stop: Ushuaia.
A 3 hours trip and I have arrived. The land of fire. It’s actually happening. The long way, the whole journey has taken me here after all. As I do each of the practicalities needed: luggage, transport, hostel; I think as well on the many secession of events that have brought me here. On the inner force and power that somehow made me imagine this future, which is now my present.
The dream continues as the first evening passes, and I go to bed early knowing that tomorrow will be a great day… Since there is no way to stop time, then tomorrow arrives. I wake up early and then find the agency that takes people to the glaciers. As the bus leaves the centre of the small town my excitement builds up… this might not accurately be the most southern spot on Earth, I mean, there is still Antactica down there… but La Tierra del Fuego could anyway be part of that final region.
We arrived to the national park and after some time hiking the way uphill starts as we commence climbing… it is tough, indeed but who cares… some minutes more, some meters more, one step after another and we are there. I’m here. Looking to the horizon I contemplate and breath in awe.
I’ve made it. I take a look around and contemplate the Earth expanding…
It is here.
The end of the world.
To be continued.