at last we are in buenos aires, we arrived off the boat from montevideo last nite.

Jon and I had a row, and he fuct off in to the nite with his bag on his back looking like a ridiculous over grown turtle. He has no spanish, (apart from guapa) no common sense, and had 50 bucks on him.

I got in to a taxi and went to a hotel, I met some lovely people who cooked for me, and whilst I sat there enjoying the ambience, at the far back of my mind I sometimes hoped that somehow, somewhere Jon was alive in Buenos Aires. Meanwhile Jon had taken a cab to the airport, and laid on a bench, with a tear in his eye, feeling quite homeless wished that he could be elsewhere. Suddenly like a bolt from outer space iniative struck him, he checked his email, where I had mailed him my location before I went to sleep.

he showed at 7am looking shabby and weary