Right outside our hostel lay Plaza Constitucion, and a market within in that. Part crafts market, the artists sold items that both tourists and locals looked over. I thought of my father when we reached the antiques section and how he would have wondered the stories behind each item. There were banks, cafes and speciality stores everywhere I looked. No trace of the super store I have grown so accustomed too. Many of the citizens carried a cup of Mate, along with a leather sheath holding more containers of hot water to refill.
Not far away, we came upon Plaza Zabala by accident.
The trees branches grew more horizontal than any other I have seen. More impressive than that where the Parkeets singing the song of a freebird. It stunned me to see birds I had only seen in cages, flying free. It was nice to see not all beautiful things are trapped, I instantly regreted ever having one as a pet when I was a child.