There was nothing premium about Premium Economy. We were on an old plane; perhaps a new one configured for this service might have been better. It felt exactly like the old economy flights we used to take to Europe, only much longer. The immigration line was long and slow. When we got through it we were so happy to see our bags on the other side and our guide waiting. A long and tedious travel day.
Once your feet are firmly planted on the ground and your luggage is in your hands, other needs begin to rise. The hotel had our rooms ready even though we arrived mid-morning. Once a shower made us feel human again, hunger intruded. We brought our leftover pesos from the last time we were here. Argentina has had notorious inflation. Our 165 pesos are worth about $4. Should we cash some money or go with our credit card? We found a bank and the screens had a message we could not read. We watched the locals come in, look at the screens, shake their heads and walk out again. OK - Visa it is. Tummies full; our eyelids began to flutter. Even though we are only two hours east of the Florida time zone, the Premium Economy nap hardly did it. We had no planned activities until dinner. I can't remember the last time I slept so soundly during a nap.
The group is arriving in dribs and drabs. Those who took the pre-trip to Iguasu Falls were delayed flying back because of weather. They won't even be here in time for dinner. I have been worried about my pulchritude and general fitness for this trip. The first two couples we met look better suited for assisted living. I am curious how we all will do.
Our tour included a wonderful dinner with multiple courses and wine flowing. When we arrived at 8:30 the restaurant was empty. As in Spain, people eat very late here. Even when the menu is roughly translated into English, you still aren't sure what you are getting. I went with the steak in light of where we are. The chimi churri sauce on top was great, but meat is meat. We hear that we will get lots of fish aboard our Norwegian based ship. Yeah, rah! Then we headed across the street to a small theater for a tango show.
Tango shows are a thing to do when you are a tourist in Buenos Aries, but we have never seen one here. It could have been plastic and touristic, but it was redolant with passion and atheticism and felt really real. The women changed clothes more frequently than Cher. Each spangly outfit had the back cut down to there and a deep slit that allowed their legs to escape. The men were slender, but strong enough to twirl their partners over their heads. That's when I could see that the women were wearing stiletto heels so tall I could not have walked in them. The partners often kicked their legs around one another as well as over their heads. There must have been lots of black and blue shins as they learned these amazing moves. To give the dancers a chance to catch their breaths, a band playing native instruments sang. Ken has a real weakness for pan flutes. Too bad they weren't selling CD's. The band which accompanied the tango dancers was amazing, too. Two men with squeeze boxes played the traditional tango sound and the violinist was so good he could have had a solo career. The show ended at midnight and we tumbled into bed secure in the knowledge that after a good night's sleep there would be no time zones to conquer.