By the lakeside.

I survived the 19-hour bus ride. Chalk it up to a nicer bus and a seat that went farther back than the one I had on the way to Mendoza. My throat´s acting up again because of the constant change of temperature but I am hoping all the chocolate I´ve been eating since arriving in Bariloche will coat it real good!
Bariloche is a small touristy town on the shores of Lago Nahuel Huapi, which is in the Lake District of Argentina, bordering Chile. There are dozens of lakes in this area. I´ve come here for the trekking, albeit just day hikes as opposed to all-out camping adventures. You guys know me and my fear of plants and bugs (and I guess nature in general), which I am trying to overcome with this trip. Anyway, the place really reminds me of Park City, Utah, because of the small streets and hip feel. It´s surrounded by mountains and the scenery is enough to keep you here for awhile. This is the first place I´ve seen so many surf shops carrying all the American brands we know, such as Roxy, Rip Curl and so on. There are dozens of chocolate and ice cream shops here. I´ve already gorged myself on a bag full of truffles and will be hitting the tiendas again tomorrow. Dianne, I really wish you were here to experience this with me!
I was happy to get off the bus this afternoon. Around 9 am an older couple had hopped on board and sat in the two seats next to mine. They wouldn´t stop making out. It was a criminal case of PDA, worthy of some hard prison labor time. What was really bad about it was that a lot of the great scenery happened to pass on their side of the bus, so when I wanted to check it out through their window, I had to turn their way. How do you handle this type of situation?
My previous day in Mendoza had been pretty relaxed, until boarding time, which I´ll explain in a sec. I hung out all day with a Swedish girl from Stockholm who was going to take a bus around the same time later that evening. On the way to the city´s lush park, we passed through Plaza Independencia, the main square of Mendoza where people hang out and where events are held. We were almost at the middle when I felt a hand on my right buttock. I turned quickly, expecting that someone had run into me by accident. At first I didn´t see anyone but in that split second I also saw a flash of a midget-type person running away. Turns out the culprit of the blatant ass-feel was a shirtless, precocious 8 or 9 year old boy! So now I can´t figure out if he had actually tried to pickpocket me or really grab my butt. Goes to show how quickly you can get mugged though. I almost went after him to give him a slap on the face, but the brat was way too quick for me.
So onto the bus incident that could have turned out badly and cost me a stranded night in Mendoza. It´s a classic demonstration of what happens when you go to a country in which you don´t speak the language. The long and short of it was that I came about 1 minute close to missing my bus ride because the platform the bus was arriving at had changed. I couldn´t understand anything the bus company employees were telling me. Este autobus es tarde? The bus is late? Blah blah blah was what I heard as the response. Finally I walked out and went down the row of buses until I found the bus itself rather than its platform number. As soon as I dropped off my luggage and sat down, the two-story machine on wheels took off. Whew.
I am heading to dinner soon with a girl from SF I met when I got here. So far, it´s been a rare thing that I´m alone, so everyone stop worrying!
Also, on a side note, the steaks here are as good as you hear. I´m pretty picky with my meat and usually stick to filet mignon, but I had an excellent lomo yesterday which I found out from my dictionary to mean the back of the cow. Not sure what that is in plain English. The sirloin cuts, bife de chorizo, are just as good and tender. So someone, what exactly is the lomo cut of beef?