Today I walked through the streets of Venado Tuerto Argentina. The streets are dusty, & it smells like exhaust - not necessarily a bad thing, but I wish I had my camping clothes. There's either a fresh fruit stand or a French pastry shop on most corners (definitely yummy), & there are a lot of people riding bikes & motorcycles with a baby (or two) attached somewhere. Animal control is non-existent. I'm not quite sure where all these stray dogs are coming from, but they seem pretty tame. Jared & I made it to the central park, & we sat on a bench for about an hour & didn't really say anything. We were staring at a giant bronze statue of an Argentine cowboy getting bucked by a horse. Our conversation went something like this:
Jared: "Well, what do you think?" (About the 100th time I've heard that this week.)
Me: "About what?"
Jared: "About life?
Me: "Do you know what sets centurions apart from everyone else?"
Jared: "No, what?" (Is this 20 questions or is this a conversation?)
Me: "Their ability to adapt."
Jared: "Looks like I'll live to be 100, how about you?"
Me: "I could get used to paisley tight jeans & red high heel boots."
Jared: "Yeah, me too." (Not sure how to interpret that one.)