Crusty Bread

 I recently finished the book, Sandwich, by Catherine Newman.  It was mostly enjoyable and while I can definitely relate to some of it, I did not relate to all of it.  One of my daughters mentioned it and I asked her if it was about Sandwich the place or Sandwich the generation. She replied, "both".  Ok...so I listened to it while I walked this month.  It was coincidental that we visited Cape Cod the first week in December and it happens to be the setting of the book. The book made me think of all kinds of things I would rather push under a rug and forget about!  It also opened my eyes to a few more things that I have considered over the past year.

On Cape Cod...not Sandwich, but close enough.

Being of a "certain age", I find myself no longer in the middle of the sandwich of life.  I really liked being the inside of the sandwich.  The part that gives the sandwich its unique flavor.  The part that defines the sandwich.  The part that sticks the two outside layers together.  It has been a long time since I was that fresh bread layer of the outside of the sandwich.  That layer that is tender and delicate.  The one that bruises or crushes at the lightest touch.  Nope...I have graduated to the bread at the back of the loaf that has been out for a while.  That slice that is a bit stale and dry.  Not quite the end of the bread loaf but one of the slices toward the end.  Not quite crusty or moldy, but these are debatable on any given day.  

There is something about losing both of your parents and many members of their generation.  Suddenly, but more likely gradually, you look in the mirror and realize you are them.  You are the ones on the outside of the sandwich.  We used to be the ones setting the trends, then we were the ones keeping up with the trends and now we really don't give a crap about the trends (most of the time).  What even are the trends?!  There is something liberating about this place.  I find myself saying things, out loud, that I never would have let out of my head before.  My filter is loosening up.  I have more confidence to just say what I mean, until one of my kids calls me out and I think to myself...damn, I am not the person they look up to or listen to anymore.  I am becoming the person they hear and sometimes shake their heads at as if to say, "Mom!" and discount my words which leaves me feeling irrelevant.  I am, one day, going to be the person who has to listen to them.  Crap!  Of course, I may be like my parents and just choose not to listen.  We have all vowed to listen when they say things like "you can't drive anymore", "you need to move out of the house" and so on.  I am not near that stage yet...but when you are the crusty outside layer of the sandwich...it is a place you can see off in the distance.  I, for one, am still not quite embracing being the elder at the family gatherings.   

Bring on Christmas with the kids and grandkids!  I will be the one trying not to act my age!

I still can't decide if I liked the book or not.  It brought me to some dark places, but it made me laugh and it made me think.  Even if I didn't like all the thoughts.  Maybe in the end, that is what makes a good book.

Argentina, The Final Chapter

I have milked this topic for long enough, time to finish.

Our final destination was Patagonia.  One more Aerolineas flight, well two, from Mendoza to El Calafate.  I had so many mixed emotions about going to Patagonia.  I was very excited but I also had some doubts or questions.  This entire trip was full of exploring new territory and in my mind I expected El Calafate and El Chalten to be something like Alaska, remote, a bit backward, uncommercial and rugged.   I questioned whether our accommodations would be dated and simple or "as depicted on the photos".  Maybe my mid-trip anxiety was raring its ugly head, that and the scary review I read about one of our accommodations that had my head spinning.  

If the drive from the airport was an indicator of
how things were going to be, we were in luck!

I was very surprised!  El Calafate reminded me of so many ski towns out west that we have visited!  Shops with hiking, camping and ski outfitters, souvenir shops and restaurants.  The streets were full of tourists!  This had not been our experience up to this point.  Sure, there were tourists, but not streets full of them/us.  I guess when you are the only town within 100 km of Parque Nacional Los Glaciares, you get a lot of tourists.  Bus loads as a matter of fact.  We enjoyed our accommodations in both stops, they were very small and personal.  I especially loved the breakfast with the ever present absolutely delicious fruit cup and the medialuna pastries.  I justified my pastry habit by hiking during the day and walking around town in the evenings.  

Flaky pastry with a glazed top...yum!

I don't know why this is so delicious, when
it looks so simple...but it is!

The glacier was huge, amazing, and beautiful.  We managed to see it twice because the first day we went the weather was lousy!  Rain and very chilly!  We did not do all the trails and only saw about half of what was available.  The park was surprisingly crowded that day though.  I guess if you are on a tour and that is the day to see the glacier, then that is the day you get.  Luckily, we had another day to go back.  A day that was clear and beautiful!  We rode all the rides that day.  Walked all the trails and did a boat tour.  Gorgeous!!!

Rain

And shine!

 

Glacier Perito Merino
One of the few in the world that is still growing.
I loved the "whale" iceberg in the lower right corner!

From El Calafate and the glacier, we drove to El Chalten, about 210 km northwest.  The drive was gorgeous!!!  There is only one small settlement between the two towns.  I equated the drive to the one heading to Great Basin National Park along Rt. 50 in Utah, only prettier.  I was awed by the color of the glacial lake we traveled along, only nature could make something that beautiful.  As we got closer and closer to the park entry and El Chalten, the mountains in the distance got bigger and bigger!  We would stop for photos only to find an even better view a few miles up the road, only to find another even better view the closer we got and on and on.  I was definitely charmed by the snowcapped Andes.  The town has and estimated permanent population around 1200 people.  Some businesses close down in the off season and those people leave the town, which I can't blame them!  I found it to be a charming place.  Rustic and yet very civilized.  Everyone was kind and accommodating.  It has been named the trekking capitol of Argentina.  Being a trekking town, it was also an early town.  Early, as in breakfast was early so you could get a jump on the trekking and dinner was early, by Argentinean standards, because everyone was tired from hiking up and down a mountain all day!  We embraced the early!  

The road between El Calafate and El Chalten!

Mt. Fitz Roy in the distance.
One of the best drives ever!

We hiked, we got lucky on day one to clearly see Fitz Roy, which was stuck in a cloud for the rest of our visit.  Glad we jumped out of the car and onto the trail on our first day.  We hiked up to see condors one day.  On our last day we hiked up to see yet another scenic mountain face.  We could have stayed another day, especially if the weather had been like day one...but alas, the fickle mountain weather turned cloudy and wet.  It was time to head back to the big city.  We really did enjoy our time in Patagonia and in nature much more than our time in the big city.  

Our last two days were spent in Buenos Aires.  By this time, we were both running out of gas.  After breathing the fresh mountain air and feeling safer than we had felt anywhere else on the trip, going back to busy Buenos Aires was an unwelcome mood change.  We did get to see a real live "football" game.  I kept waiting for Roy Kent or Jamie Tart to run onto the field.  I must say I loved the almost constant singing and chanting by the fans.  What a great atmosphere, I hear we should be glad the game did not get as rowdy as many do.  I thought to myself, "I have gone to many LSU football games, how much rowdier can it get?!".  Glad we did not have to find out.

By the time we left, we were ready.  We had such a great time, but it was time to go home.  It was the adventure we both hoped it would be, and we count ourselves very lucky.  And yes, the water in the toilet goes down the opposite direction.