210/365

Walking through those handcrafted doors, the heat and humidity weigh down the air, seemingly slowing my already sluggish first-thing-in-the-morning pace. But it only takes a few minutes of being still to acclimate. Hot coffee balanced carefully on the arm of the chair, I squint at the print of my travel bible and scribble notes and ponder and meditate. A morning breeze blows through the courtyard. The bells from the Catholic church down the street ring in the distance. The Federales finish their morning drill and greet me with surprisingly cheerful Buenos dias on their way to breakfast. Cars and people hurry by as the sun makes it's appearance on the eastern horizon, and soon the group gathers for our own morning meal.

I would be hard-pressed to surrender that extra morning hour.