22nd November
After another relaxing morning and lunch at the flat, we set out at around 1pm to take the metro up to Palermo. It was hot outside (> 30 degrees celsius) and even hotter on the metro; eventually we could bear it no longer so decided to get off and walk the rest of the way. After a pleasant half hour's stroll (clinging to the shade) we arrived at Plaza Italia.
Palermo is BA's trendiest area (at least for tourists; I'm sure it's not actually that cool any more). It's leafy and affluent, but not quite as traditional and, well, middle-aged as Recoleta. Above all, Palermo has lots and lots of shopping, mostly high-end.
Our first stop was the museum dedicated to Eva Peron (Evita), whose extrovert personality dominated Argentina from the 1940s until her death in 1952. The personality cult recorded by and reflected in the museum was frankly rather disturbing, but it was nevertheless an interesting insight and well worth the visit.
We then walked past the BA zoo and botanical park towards the Japanese gardens, but these were closed. Not to be denied, we continued on to the rose gardens, which were thankfully open. There we settled on a bench to enjoy the early evening light reflecting on the small lake at the edge of the park, until we were eventually evicted at closing time.
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| Taking it easy in the rose gardens |
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| Gardens in the heart of the city |
From the rose gardens we strolled around the park, dodging runners, cyclists, and lycra-clad rollerbladers, and back into Palermo Viejo, the main shopping area. We weren't looking to buy anything, not least because most of the shops were beyond our travellers' budget, but we were almost overwhelmed by the sheer density and variety of the shops on offer.
In the evening we treated ourselves to a highly recommended parilla, Don Julio. It was only a Tuesday night, and relatively early by Latin standards, but the place was packed. Our grilled provolone starter, which we could see melting on the parilla, was great. I then had a bife de chorizo and Clem had a small version of the same cut (where "small" means "slightly less huge"), both of which were jugoso and delicious. The only disappointment was Clem's side dish, an avocado and pineapple salad that featured meagre slices of avocado surrounded by chunks of pineapple that had clearly been tipped straight out of a can. Nevertheless, it couldn't detract from the fantastic introduction to Buenos Aires steak (and served as a lesson to avoid any kind of salad).
23rd November
For once we managed to leave the apartment at a reasonable hour, catching the metro up to Plaza del Congreso, where we joined our second "free tour" of BA. This tour, run by the same company as the Retiro and Recoleta jaunt, stretched from Argentina's Congress building to the Casa Rosada and then up to the Plaza de la Republica.
Our extremely enthusiastic guide again did a good job of keeping his large group of followers entertained (and together). Outside the Congresso he told us we could join a free tour of the building twice a day (from which we later profited) and pointed out on the corner a former government building that had been abandoned because the upkeep was unaffordable and had since been occupied by squatters. From there we walked along the Avenida de Mayo towards the Casa Rosada, across Avenida 9 de Julio, which was the widest boulevard in the world before being overtaken by a monster in Brasilia.
In front of the Casa Rosada we had a brief history lesson while sheltering in the shade, followed by an ice cream break. Thanks to Italian influence the ice cream in Argentina is pretty good and it was the perfect antidote to the sweltering heat. We then walked up the "Diagonal Norte" that runs northwest from the Casa Rosada to Plaza de la Republica. There stands the obelisk built in 1936 to commemorate the 400th anniversary of the founding of Buenos Aires, whose principal purpose now seems to be to serve as the centre of celebrations for football fans.
Our guide also pointed out an amusing house perched atop a tall apartment block overlooking the Plaza; some guy who wanted to live closer to the centre of the city without living in a small flat, apparently. Bizarre. That was the end of the tour.
We walked back down through Recoleta and Retiro, along Avenida Santa Fe and Avenida Cordoba, doing a little window-shopping as we went. After three months on the road my t-shirts were either falling apart or unpleasantly discoloured, and my only footwear was hiking boots and some sandals that were last in fashion 50 years ago, so Clem had decided it was time to intervene. This initial browsing was, however, unfruitful, and we arrived back in San Telmo after a very long walk completely exhausted but empty-handed. We just about summoned up the energy to head back out to the supermarket to pick up food for dinner, and then collapsed.
24th November
Another lazy morning, catching up on sleep that had been lacking in Patagonia, was followed by an afternoon's shopping. This time it was rather more productive, and we both picked up some clothes to make us look slightly less like backpackers and more like real people. In the evening we ventured out to find a tango bar. The place we had been recommended didn't have anything on that night, but they did tell us that there was a tango festival starting the following week, and gave us some details. Since we'd made the effort to get out of the flat we decided that we owed ourselves a drink, and stopped off at a cocktail bar on Caseros. I went for the very masculine choice of a maracuja caipirinha, which was excellent, while Clem had a slightly underwhelming Cosmo (the best ever tasted so far was in a small bar in Brussels). By now it was way past our bed time so we retreated back to Piedras.
In the evening we treated ourselves to a highly recommended parilla, Don Julio. It was only a Tuesday night, and relatively early by Latin standards, but the place was packed. Our grilled provolone starter, which we could see melting on the parilla, was great. I then had a bife de chorizo and Clem had a small version of the same cut (where "small" means "slightly less huge"), both of which were jugoso and delicious. The only disappointment was Clem's side dish, an avocado and pineapple salad that featured meagre slices of avocado surrounded by chunks of pineapple that had clearly been tipped straight out of a can. Nevertheless, it couldn't detract from the fantastic introduction to Buenos Aires steak (and served as a lesson to avoid any kind of salad).
23rd November
For once we managed to leave the apartment at a reasonable hour, catching the metro up to Plaza del Congreso, where we joined our second "free tour" of BA. This tour, run by the same company as the Retiro and Recoleta jaunt, stretched from Argentina's Congress building to the Casa Rosada and then up to the Plaza de la Republica.
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| Congreso |
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| The (French-style) building lost to the squatters |
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| Flamboyant architecture along the Avenida de Mayo |
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| The sun surrounded by a halo of BA smog |
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| More idiosyncratic BA architecture |
After a quick bite to eat we headed northwest to Recoleta and its famous cemetery. A funeral procession was entering at the same time as us, which left us feeling unsurprisingly sombre. Not so some of the tourists, whom we saw posing as zombies for photos in front of the spectacularly ornate tombs. These delightful folks did at least have one benefit; after wandering around the labyrinth for a while we eventually just followed the zombie conga line heading for Evita's tombstone. A quick peek was enough for us, and since it was starting to feel slightly creepy we decided to head back to the land of the living.
We walked back down through Recoleta and Retiro, along Avenida Santa Fe and Avenida Cordoba, doing a little window-shopping as we went. After three months on the road my t-shirts were either falling apart or unpleasantly discoloured, and my only footwear was hiking boots and some sandals that were last in fashion 50 years ago, so Clem had decided it was time to intervene. This initial browsing was, however, unfruitful, and we arrived back in San Telmo after a very long walk completely exhausted but empty-handed. We just about summoned up the energy to head back out to the supermarket to pick up food for dinner, and then collapsed.
24th November
Another lazy morning, catching up on sleep that had been lacking in Patagonia, was followed by an afternoon's shopping. This time it was rather more productive, and we both picked up some clothes to make us look slightly less like backpackers and more like real people. In the evening we ventured out to find a tango bar. The place we had been recommended didn't have anything on that night, but they did tell us that there was a tango festival starting the following week, and gave us some details. Since we'd made the effort to get out of the flat we decided that we owed ourselves a drink, and stopped off at a cocktail bar on Caseros. I went for the very masculine choice of a maracuja caipirinha, which was excellent, while Clem had a slightly underwhelming Cosmo (the best ever tasted so far was in a small bar in Brussels). By now it was way past our bed time so we retreated back to Piedras.
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