Over the line

I've been bowling in Belfast, Bangkok, Budapest, and Baton Rouge, but none of them come close to bowling in Buenos Aires.  I'm kidding, of course.  Baton Rouge was way better, bowling alleys in the U.S. always are.  Americans (at least, the cool ones) have a profound understanding of the bowling lifestyle that never totally translates to other cultures.  No matter how nice a foreign alley seems, there is always something a little off, like an Irish pub in Turkmenistan that plays The Gipsy Kings instead of The Chieftans.  I mean, I wouldn't even think of trying to get a white russian at the place we went to yesterday.

Paloko Bowl was pretty nice though, the lanes were in good shape and they had the coolest rental shoes I've ever seen.  There were separate lanes in the basement to quarantine the screaming kids having a birthday party, and the beer was so cold that the foam was a bit slushy.  They do need to work on cleaning the ball returns.  By the end of the first game, our hands were as dark as a black steer's tookus on a moonless prairie night.