Back at Hostel Crux on Monday morning there was no-one to be seen. We hadn't got there especially early - it was looking more promising for our job prospects if it was an at-leisure project, and we agreed to wait one hour for someone to turn up.
Five minutes later Gustavo arrived with Claudia, his daughter and Kevin explained that Martin his friend who now lives in France gave us his name.
Gustavo explained he's great friends with Martins uncle, and would do what he could to help us.
We explained we wanted to work, and needed beds in exchange.
Fifteen minutes later we were stripping bark from Oregon logs and it felt good to be alive.
We had our own whole hostel to ourselves, and busied our days stripping and varnishing wood, sanding and painting walls and floors, and putting up beams and rooves.
Our nights were taken up with cooking fresh, local food from scratch, playing chess, drinking whiskey (Old Smuggler), and various sewing reperations and alterations.
When tourist season started in the new year the hostel opened and Nahuel (Gustavo's nephew) turned up, to look after the night shift at the hostel and have a summer break in the countryside away from Buenos Aires.
An honest, straight-talking and funny guy you can't help but get along with - we were soon great friends.
We also made a few friends around town - the bakery girl, coffee shop guy and horse trekking guide were the best.
Our daily work was getting more varied and we found ourselves horse-wrangling, gardening (with a variety of two-stroke petrol machines) and saw-milling.
The evenings saw less chess and whiskey as the hostel was open and there were clients to talk to, and the weather turned consistently hot and sunny.
Every day after work we took Falluchio (the dog) to the river and swam, bathed and relaxed to the setting sun.
Our lives were as idyllic as it sounds.
Five minutes later Gustavo arrived with Claudia, his daughter and Kevin explained that Martin his friend who now lives in France gave us his name.
Gustavo explained he's great friends with Martins uncle, and would do what he could to help us.
We explained we wanted to work, and needed beds in exchange.
Fifteen minutes later we were stripping bark from Oregon logs and it felt good to be alive.
We had our own whole hostel to ourselves, and busied our days stripping and varnishing wood, sanding and painting walls and floors, and putting up beams and rooves.
Our nights were taken up with cooking fresh, local food from scratch, playing chess, drinking whiskey (Old Smuggler), and various sewing reperations and alterations.
The New Year
When tourist season started in the new year the hostel opened and Nahuel (Gustavo's nephew) turned up, to look after the night shift at the hostel and have a summer break in the countryside away from Buenos Aires.
An honest, straight-talking and funny guy you can't help but get along with - we were soon great friends.
We also made a few friends around town - the bakery girl, coffee shop guy and horse trekking guide were the best.
Our daily work was getting more varied and we found ourselves horse-wrangling, gardening (with a variety of two-stroke petrol machines) and saw-milling.
The evenings saw less chess and whiskey as the hostel was open and there were clients to talk to, and the weather turned consistently hot and sunny.
Every day after work we took Falluchio (the dog) to the river and swam, bathed and relaxed to the setting sun.
Our lives were as idyllic as it sounds.
Wow! That sounds perfect, I could picture it all, just perfect. Amazing. I bet you wish you could have stayed!! xxx
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