Without a Traceroute

In theory, I should be on a glacier right now. Last night, I asked the hostel staff to wake me up at 6:30 so I could meet the tour pickup van at shortly after 7. This morning, I woke up with an unpleasant start at around 8:10 am.

I freaked out, and ran to reception, and we had this little back-and-forth (in English, because my Spanish doesn’t work before about 10 am):
“You were supposed to wake me up! What happened?”
“I came in 3 times, the van came, you not get up.”
“Seriously?” (I can be a pretty sound sleeper, but I can’t imagine I could sleep through 3 in-person wakeup attempts and not remember at all)
“I tried. There was a guy and girl naked in the bed.” (Now that I know I would remember.)
“Are you sure you got the right bed?”
“Yes, bed number 3, room number 8.”
“I’m in bed 3, room 3! Can I see the sheet?”
It turned out that on the wake-up sheet, the clerk from last night had written the number 3 in kind of loopy handwriting so that it looked like a number 8. It was an honest mistake and it’s hard for me to be angry about that. Although I imagine the naked couple in bed 3, room 8 might feel differently.

I was angry that he tried to tell me that I would have to pay again if I wanted to go tomorrow (and the tour is not particularly cheap), or I could take a cab and dash over to the glacier park and try to meet the tour this morning. Both those options sucked, but I still ran to my room and frantically tried to pack to get a cab. Thankfully, I think the hostel clerk realized he screwed up, and so he called the tour company and worked it out so I can go tomorrow without paying again. It should be no skin off their back, because it’s low season right now, and none of the tours are full anyway.

Long story short, no glacier photos until tomorrow, and I’ve got an extra day to kill here. Some Irish guys told me they did a horseback riding trip that was cool, so that’s an option. I might just go hiking, too.