I don´t like feeling forced to come up with titles to these things!

All is well in the shady, sleepy little mountain town of San Martín de los Andes. The local gente strictly observe the siesta hours, the cool breeze ruffles the leaves and keeps the insects at bay, there are numerous trees from which to hang my hammock, and the hours melt away with the sweetness of sun-softened honey. Since my Monday arrival, I´ve discovered that the thing ¨to do¨ in this town is, in reality, nothing. I have been having an excellent time adhering to the local mandate.

In the winter SM de los Andes is a trendy little ski town frequented by the Argentine elite, and in the summer, a stop-off on the heavily trafficked gringo road. Right now, I find myself in the off season, so the town is particularly quiet. Kids back in school, a near empty campground, and a generally slow pace of life make this lakeside pueblo surrounded by verdant mountains a rather nice place to kick back. My time here is dominated by:
1. sleeping until at least 11
2. then quickly moving to my hammock to catch the midday sun
3. walking around the upscale ginger-bread-esque town
4. reading an engrossing book my Mario Vargas Llosa
5. making delicious stews from scratch using my camp mess kit and a fire pit.

Tomorrow at the heinous hour of 6 AM, I catch a bus to El Pucón, Chile. Usually a 3-4 hour ride, currently there is a wildfire that is blocking the pass, so it will most likely be a 12 hour detour. Rats. No big deal, though. Also, it turns out that a friend of mine from college that lives in El Pucón will not be in town when I arrive because she is in Buenos Aires seeing surgeons about a broken collar bone that never healed correctly. Double rats! It would have been nice to hang out and meet her new daughter (which I found out, today, she named Nieve, Spanish for ¨snow¨), but I no longer worry about spoiled plans. ¨Come what come may, the hour and the time run through the roughest day.¨ Macbeth. I will have a good time anyhow. They have a volcano there that you can climb, and I´m going to climb it!

Typing this is making me tired and in want of my hammock, so I hope that this little update has temporarily quenched your ravinous thirst for all things Stefan.