Why do planes always serve scrambled eggs?

Days merge on flights, I watched the film Pride twice, I cried twice. Then came breakfast and I could predict what it would be…eggs. I don’t understand why eggs are always on the breakfast menu on planes, they smell awful and I don’t tend to eat scrambled eggs when you can actually slice it with your plastic knife. Before we knew it, I was watching a gorgeous sunrise, then looking down on the grid patchwork quilt of Buenos Aires.

Finding our transfer was interesting, I’ve never seen so many people holding names with signs on them. Ali and I had to disperse to find our name. The airport is quite a trek from Buenos Aires and by this time, we were at our hotel at 10am. They were lovely and gave us 2nd breakfast, no eggs this time. We decided that the only thing our brains could process today is a bus tour. What we hadn’t bargained on was not being able to find the bus stop, walking for miles, then a 4 hour bus tour but gosh we needed someone to move us from a to b without much thinking in the middle.

The grid pattern is amazing, I don’t know how anyone finds their way around the one way streets. We saw the Obelisk, the building with Eva Peron’s outline, train stations, stadiums, lots of squares, lots of people eating outdoors and because it’s Sunday, lots of families outdoors. On the way back we were starving, our Spanish is rubbish so we went for pizza as a safe bet. I know the Spanish word for cheese so I had a Roquefort one. Ali however, accidentally ordered a ham, pineapple and caramel sauce pizza with cherries on top. Oh it was unique.

Today was a sneaky peak at Buenos Aires though jet lagged eyes, tomorrow is more hard core. But now, sleep!