Things have changed. I'm no longer a backpacker - I am, instead, (albeit briefly ie for one night only) a flashpacker.
Previously this is what would have happened yesterday: arriving in Buenos Aires after a long night flight I would have emerged into Argentina with a shabby rucksack and a vacant look and headed for the overcrowded bus into town. Or the cheap collectivo taxi rank - and then squabbled over the fare. Orientating myself roughly and badly with a guidebook map I would have wandered in the rain through city streets, in and out of cheap hostels until I found something not covered in grime or dead insects. Exhausted I would have collapsed on a thin broken bed and traipsed down the corridor to the shared bathroom, to stand under a dribble of cold water. Etc etc. The last time I travelled in Latin America I spent my first night in downtown San Salvador - quite possibly the roughest place I've ever been - in a hotel 'room' with no lock on the door, a flickering striplight and a row of growling men hanging out downstairs by the 'reception'.
Well look at me now! I was met as I emerged from customs, with my smart wheelie suitcase, by a fat cheerful taxista called Julio and driven to a restored town house in chic barrio Palermo, a hotel so cool that there's no name on the door. My room has a huge bed with a cushion mountain and parquet flooring. I have wireless internet and a white towelling robe and antique furniture.
BTW I can't say what Buenos Aires is like - it was raining stair-rods all afternoon and evening. I ran round the block to the cashpoint and dashed back. It just looked like a city grey, dripping and damp.
Previously this is what would have happened yesterday: arriving in Buenos Aires after a long night flight I would have emerged into Argentina with a shabby rucksack and a vacant look and headed for the overcrowded bus into town. Or the cheap collectivo taxi rank - and then squabbled over the fare. Orientating myself roughly and badly with a guidebook map I would have wandered in the rain through city streets, in and out of cheap hostels until I found something not covered in grime or dead insects. Exhausted I would have collapsed on a thin broken bed and traipsed down the corridor to the shared bathroom, to stand under a dribble of cold water. Etc etc. The last time I travelled in Latin America I spent my first night in downtown San Salvador - quite possibly the roughest place I've ever been - in a hotel 'room' with no lock on the door, a flickering striplight and a row of growling men hanging out downstairs by the 'reception'.
Well look at me now! I was met as I emerged from customs, with my smart wheelie suitcase, by a fat cheerful taxista called Julio and driven to a restored town house in chic barrio Palermo, a hotel so cool that there's no name on the door. My room has a huge bed with a cushion mountain and parquet flooring. I have wireless internet and a white towelling robe and antique furniture.
BTW I can't say what Buenos Aires is like - it was raining stair-rods all afternoon and evening. I ran round the block to the cashpoint and dashed back. It just looked like a city grey, dripping and damp.
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