Last day in Buenos Aires, and it feels, for the first time, like some form of winter could actually be coming. (Maybe because this is also our first day of rain.) The city, by the way, is lovely in the rain.
Wait! Sun has come out! (Forget about some form of winter! And loveliness in the rain! Actually its still raining, but brightly sunny too, and lovely.)
And then there are those trips where some of your best memories are of the times you broke the plumbing.
I shouldn’t call them”best” memories–how about most unforgettable memories?
(BTW, this is not one of those trips. I repeat, from my couch in a rented apartment in Buenos Aires where we paid a significant damage deposit, this is not one of those trips.)
It really isn’t, actually. I don’t think you can “break” a pipe that’s not joined at all but simply aligned (more or less) with the pipe beneath it, with a big gap in-between, and yes, we have aligned them again.
Of course, there was that restaurant bathroom in Paris where I actually did tear the faucet off of the sink and water would not stop gushing straight up into the air. Onto the floor. Out the door. (How was I supposed to know that you weren’t supposed to push on the tap so hard?)
And I’m absolutely not going to go into any incidents in Mexico, except to say how lucky we were that none of the other people staying at the same house were home that day, and never lose heart.
But here, today, in this rented apartment in Buenos Aires, everything is just fine.
ManicDDaily 
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