First, this morning, the Japanese Garden, including a scultured dead tree;
and lots of fat koi.
En route to the Museum of Latin American Art (which didn't open until noon), many dogwalkers with huge entourages;
and the Museo itself was spectacular, and a crash course in C20th-C21st Latin American art, from Indigenismo
through surrealism (how come I've never taken Remedios Varo on board before? This is an extract from her self-portrait, but all her work here is wonderful);
to slowly rotating light disks. I had to flee too soon, to catch my flight ...
Not pictured: the flight to Bariloche, over 1200 miles of nothingness - the very very occasional estancia, which just left me wondering how they made/got power, or how you could ensure that you didn't run out of gas all the time. Now I see why this country has so few railroads: they would be wildly unprofitable. I don't think I've ever seen so much emptiness. It was dark by the time I drove out of the airport in a little Fiat: first past pine trees and then more pine trees, and then into town, which was full of roundabouts - I hate it when my prim English GPS says "take the sixth exit," especially when driving norms are - well, different - and then down a road past some of the lake and eventually found my way into my crazily wonderful hotel (my room has a lake view, yes, but also a jacuzzi, a steam shower, and a sauna - I wish I were staying here a week). And no, it's not the supposedly truly upmarket place, here ... This is the blurred, for some reason, view from my balcony: more tomorrow, in daylight. I was, very happily, welcomed by the hotel cat.
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