What a difference a day makes.

Our visit to Colonia in Uruguay was a real step back in time and a change of culture. A small coastal town colonised and fortified by the Portuguese before coming under Spanish control. The place well preserved/restored, albeit obviously now a tourist trap but quiet and calm with a small towns pace to life; a time to savour.
We had taken an early, for us, Subte ride into Buenos Aires dockland area accompanied by a small brown and white dog that joined the tube train at the next stop and then purposefully walked down the coaches obviously intent on getting a seat near his future exit point. No one batted an eyelid!
The ferry terminal reminiscent of an airport required much queuing but embarkation was quite painless. Irene by using her years of experience of jumble sales ensuring we got a pair of window seats. Amazing, one minute with me at the back of the surging throng and then, at the front, unruffled, triumphantly bagging two of the last remaining window seats. The same on our return trip although that was not so spectacular as that vessel was not fully booked. It must be like a ferret scenting blood! The 3 hour ferry trips restful and generally uneventful other than on each leg of the journey there was a half hour demonstration of Tango dancing the like of which we had never seen, beautiful, sensuous, the story of life told in dance, real theatre. To see such an ordinary young couple in T shirts and jeans at the coffee bar afterwards made the performances even more poignant. The airline like nature of our ferry trips was again high lighted on the return trip as the ferry had to 'stack', circle, aircraft like whilst 5 other vessels left Buenos Aires docks via what must be a very narrow deep water channel. That added another hour to our return leg. There was some compensation however as we were able to jump, un-noticed onto a 152 colectivo waiting at traffic lights with access door conveniently left wide open, and get a back facing seat so Irene could not see her always anticipated death and destruction in head on collision on these always speedy mid-night bus rides. One something in the morning to bed; what has happened to my horlicks time?