Credits. I think that tiger is left over from the first season. He must be getting hungry, because given his excessively calm demeanor at the time, I doubt he's mustered the chutzpah to eat anyone since then. Which is not to say I advocate the eating of monks. [BOMP.]
Commercials. I'm sorry, but the theory of camp requires that the number of layers of cheese be odd, not even. Rob Lowe plus Vegas is thus not acceptable. A Charo cameo, however, would rapidly bring things back into balance, provided nothing further, like a theme by K.C. and the Sunshine Band, is added.
We zoom back into San Carlos de Bariloche, which the music would have you believe is a major center for the manufacture of blaring horns. Phil explains, while looking oddly uncomfortable as Mirna stands off camera threatening to lick his neck, that we are at the third pit stop. And what are we here to do? Eat! (Look! Charla and Mirna are going through the buffet line, and no one is helping them!) Sleep! (Look! Brandon and Nicole are baking in the sun, really suffering through this harrowing experience!) Mingle! (Look! Colin is lecturing the room and everyone is pretending to care!) Phil wonders whether Chip and Kim will ever find their way out of last place, and whether Brandon and Nicole will keep making alliances that are mutually opportunistic and transitory. Those bastards. When will they learn that there's no "I" in "win"? There's a great shot of Brandon here accompanied by some snake-like music, but...the guy is just not threatening. It's the hair. It's like he's the evil King Mophead the Mellow, and he's here to surf the crap out of you.
3:10 AM. Colin and Christie, working the dorky headlamps. You know, I got one of those as a gift last year, and I primarily thought of it as a funny gift, until I managed to come across it during a power outage. I now think of it as having been an awesome gift, which everyone should own, in the event you ever have to go spelunking in your own closet. They rip the clue, and it tells them to find the battleship Aurora in St. Petersburg, Russia. Yikes. Phil explains, however, that this isn't all. First, they will have to drive themselves into town and travel 20 hours by bus -- 20 hours by bus -- to Buenos Aires, and only there will they get flights out. That's 8000 miles by plane, by the way, after the bus ride. Which is 20 hours. C'mon, everybody, sing! "Three million bottles of beer on the wall, three million bottles of beeeer..." Okay, maybe not. Once they're in St. Petersburg, they'll find the battleship to get the next clue, if they can still remember to do so, considering that they'll be arriving in Russia in approximately a year and a half.