buenos aires, damages

$800 flight
$140 to/from airports
$100 lodging
$240 food, milongas, taxis
$180 stuff bought in preparation for the trip

I never quite believed people when they said that the most expensive part of going to Buenos Aires is getting there. I can't not believe it anymore...

buenos aires, la ultima dia

It's my last day in Buenos Aires. I wake up at 7AM. Funny, that's the hour when I've been going to sleep. I finish packing at 8:30AM, and head out to make my last errand (print boarding pass) and for my last cafe con leche y medialunas.

Nothing is open. Buenos Aires is different than Spain in this manner. In Spain, in the morning, almost every coffee place open and filled with people, albeit mainly old men drinking their cafe con leches and reading the newspapers. Buenos Aires is dead at 9AM.

I enjoy being in Buenos Aires. But it seems like that everything about the city is just slightly off. There's no one awake at 9AM. The medialunas look like croissants, but taste more like soft bread. The cafe con leches are served like cappucinos. There's no street food to be found, no shawarmas. It's a port city, but seafood is rarely found, and if so, not good at all. It's the heart of tango, but most people in the city do not dance it. The tango scene is supported mainly by foreigners. I speak of this to someone at work, and she mentions that it's like the uncanny valley in animation.

My taxi picks me up at 9:30AM, and I head to the airport for a long ride back to Los Angeles.

buenos aires, domingo por la noche

On my way to meet Alu, Emily had texted me and told me to show up at a BBQ at 7PM. I told her that I wouldn't make it that early, given my plans, but I'd show up a bit later. After not meeting up with Alu, I wander around town a bit, and then finally go home. I planned to rest up a bit and then head over, but Emily texts me and says that the charcoal may not last, so I should show up soon.

OK, so I leave and try to find a carniceria. I go to 3 places, including one owned by Chinese people and the woman speaks to me in Mandarin. Good thing I understand Mandarin. She points me to a place, which sells chicken (but isn't a carniceria) that tells me that carnicerias are not open on Sundays. Gah!

So I head over to the hostel where the BBQ is being held (and where Kevin and Lacey are staying). I stop at the restaurant next door and order a bife de chorizo, thinking that I still need to bring something. This is where texting fails communications. I think I still need to bring something because otherwise, why would Emily tell me that the grill is dying? Emily thinks I'm being difficult by bringing my own food to a BBQ, especially given how much food there is. We get the situation cleared once she calls me while I'm waiting in the restaurant for my order. The restaurant originally won't sell me the beer to go. They get back ~AR$2 for each empty bottle. I promise them that I'd bring it back that night, and they finally relent. OK, now to the BBQ.

Wow is there a lot of food at the BBQ (pic above). I dig myself into a piece of grilled chicken leg. It's juicy and tender, and cooked perfectly, not burnt on the outside, nor raw inside. Props to the grillmaster-- Kevin. There's also plenty of chorizo, morcilla, and beef. What's an Argentine BBQ w/o the beef? We hang around a bit just eating, drinking and shooting the breeze. Raul, Veronique, and Anne eventually show up with a couple bottles of wine, and they load up on the food too. This is a successful BBQ.

After the BBQ, we decide to head to Torquato Tasso for a milonga. This was my first milonga, and befitting that it should be my last in Buenos Aires. I head back to shower first, because I had spilled some stuff on my pants. I am amazed once I arrive. It is so much more crowded than the previous week. And lots of good dancers too. Not many are native, and they are definitly more willing to dance with foreigners, given that they themselves are foreigners. Lacey comments that it's most similar to milongas in Los Angeles. I agree. We all have a pretty good time, and it ends at 2:15AM. There's talk of heading to La Viruta, but eventually no one really wants to go. Me, my head is pounding from all the drinks since 8PM, and I still have yet to pack for my flight in the morning. I say goodby to everyone, and head home.

That ends the last night in Buenos Aires for me.

buenos aires, domingo por la tarde

Sunday morning. It's my last full day in Buenos Aires.

Sundays, the main street of San Telmo, La Defensa, is shut down to automobile traffic. Venders setup shop and create an outdoor bazaar. I head there when I wake up. There is not much to see, the typical trinkets, souvenirs, etc. And lots of stands selling old junk-- spoons, knives, telephones, etc. There's a stand that is selling CDs, 3 for AR$100. The woman is quite pushy, but even so, I am tempted. Among the CDs, some Buddha Bar collections, which run US$30 usually. Just one alone is worth it. There's also the new Daniel Melingo CD. I love Daniel Melingo. The musicality of his songs are very engaging. Alas, I have no cash on me. I had planned an ATM run later in the day, but in the name of minimizing consumption, I decided not to make that run.

I had plans with my friend Alu, so I head to Palermo. I get there on time, at 5PM. Then I wait around for 30 minutes, but she never shows. I finally check my email using my phone, and she had sent me a message earlier in the day, saying that she was sick. I hadn't read it because the internet had been down in my entire neighborhood. Movistar was giving me problems the night before-- I could text, but couldn't make or receive calls. Now I know what people mean when they bitch about Movistar. I head back and get read for the night.

buenos aires, sabado por la noche

Saturday night the plans were up in the air. I was OK with, but didn't particularly want to go to La Viruta again. Not sure if I can take the combination of constant rejections and overly crowded dance floors. Emily was hanging out with a friend, so I was pretty much on my own.

I ended up having dinner with a guy from Portugal (Raul) and a couple of French girls (Veronique and Anne). After dinner, they were thinking of going to Palermo for a party, but not until later. So, we hung around and ended up at Plaza Derrego, the main outdoor square in San Telmo. The square was jam packed with people. There we met a couple friends of Raul's, and had a beer with them. I was shocked at the prices of the beers (AR$14 for 330cl). Definitely the most expensive I've paid here-- that the square is a popular tourist trap does not help.

Raul's friend Sebastian suggests that we go clubbing, and tells us of a club where his friends are. It's quite far, and no one really wants to take a taxi there, so we end up wandering around San Telmo a bit looking for a local club. Brad, Sebastien's friend, chats up some guy on the street who points us to Balcarce. We head there and the area is pretty happening. We pass by a place that has Argentine music pouring out, and I try to take a look in the door, but is pushed away by the bouncer. I try to tell him that I just want a quick look, but he won't let me anywhere near. WTF? Anyway, the guys find some club; the cover is 20 pesos. At this point, I decide that I really don't want to pay AR$20 to go clubbing-- that I'd rather be dancing tango. So I left them and did just that.

I first go to Independencia, and that's empty. Then I go to Peru 571, which has a few more people, but even then, dying pretty quickly. The night turns out to be pretty much of a bust.

Emily had texted me the address of a milonga that she was going to go at 3AM. 2450 Peron. I wish I had went. I had thought that was the address of La Viruta, and at that point, I didn't want to take the taxi ride all the way there. But it turns out this was an outdoor milonga, in the courtyard of a church. That would've really cool. Oh well. Live and learn.

buenos aires, sabado por la tarde

Strange, I am awake at noon, and cannot fall asleep again. For the day, I planned to explore Puerto Madero, the barrio that hugs oceanside. It's only 5 minutes walk, a beautiful day.

I get to Puerto Madero, and I am amazed by the serenity and tranquility of the neighborhood. Granted, there is a lot of new construction going on. Granted, the restaurants that overlook the river seem overpriced and directed towards rich, clueless vacationers. It is absolutely serene. It is at this point that I finally fall in love with Buenos Aires. I've been in various barrios-- San Telmo, Palermo, Congreso, etc. All of them overwhelm my senses, with the typical problems of overpopulation. This is not the case with Puerto Madero. The buildings are old, but they have all been renovated and are rather quite contemporary. I've decided. If I ever move to Buenos Aires, then Puerto Madero is where I will live.

I keep walking towards the ocean. I imagine that BA, being a port city, should have a dock for people to peer at the ocean. I walk around for 3 hours, but cannot seem to find it. Finally, I stumble upon a map, and it seems that the "ecological reserve" seems to prevent people from actually seeing the ocean. I don't go into the reserve itself. Perhaps I should have rented a bicycle.

As I walk along the edge of the reserve, the street is lined with street vender parilladas. Finally, this is where the street venders are! I am hungry, so order a bondiola (see pic above). It is seared, tender pork, in a french baguette. They have a lot of toppings to go with it, and I load up on chili peppers and tomatoes. Yum. And only AR$8. Afterwards, I find a juice stand and order a fresh squeezed orange juice. It is huge, and costs only AR$4. Not a bad lunch for just over US$3.




A couple pictures of Puerto Madero.


On the way back, I take a different route, and pass by a car that's been completely burnt. I guess there's no tow truck service in Buenos Aires.