I admit I had a slow acclimation to Buenos Aires. It was not love at first sight, sort of grew on me slowly. Surprisingly, at the end, I felt sad and reluctant to leave. One month was not enough. There was still so much I did not see or do, so much yet to explore. My take-aways — the things that will stay with me, what I enjoyed the most — were the friendly people and the continual visual experience.
In the 1980s, Wendy’s famous ad campaign asked “Where’s the beef?” In Argentina, they have plenty of beef, lots and lots of beef, as well as pork and lamb. The question to ask instead is “Where’s the veggies?”
When eating out in Buenos Aires, finding a vegetable other than salad (arugula, shredded carrots, avocado, and tomatoes) was a real challenge. A typical menu would have several types of grilled carne (beef): Bife de Chorizo, Ojo de Bife, Bife Angosto, Bife de Costilla. I never did get them straight. If you didn’t specify jugoso (juicy), it was always done medium-well. Most portions are generous, big enough to share. It’s a matter of national pride. You’d often see the big parrillas (grills) with men cooking large amounts of meat showcased on the street or in an open window. Their local rock stars!
On my last Saturday in Buenos Aires, I took a cab to La Boca, the old city port, and went on a walking tour of this historic and colorful area. Afterward, I entered the PROA museum to see an Ai Weiwei exhibit and passed into a totally different visual world….from a kaleidoscope to tranquility.
Wow! This city is an assortment of wonders, full of green spaces and teeming with life. Whether on an official tour or just walking from one place to another, there is so much to discover. In my first two weeks with Pangea196, I found things can change quickly — from upscale, to funky, to downright gritty. Busy streets with police cars always flashing their blue lights, yellow and black Radio Taxis, motorcycles, cars, and huge buses. Sidewalks crowded with businessmen in dress shirts, young mothers nursing babies without embarrassment, tattooed hipsters, older people using walkers or canes. Everyone (even men) hugging and kissing when they meet. It plays like Argentinian cinéma vérité. Continue reading
After a 9-hour flight from Miami, my plane ascended over a long, flat expanse, checkered brown and green, into Buenos Aires, a metropolis of high-rises interspersed with verdant parks. After so many weeks of anticipation, my adrenalin soared.
The airport was filled with lively people who were, at first glance, mostly brunette and thinner than in North Carolina. It was warm and still light at 9 pm in January. My travel host was on time; we jumped in a taxi and headed for the Ritiro district. I felt hyper-ready for my adventure.