You'll notice the occasional Spanish words and phrases will drift into the entries. This is only an attempt by the author to recall some of the language he is learning - slowly! Very, very, very slowly...
And have we put on the miles! After a lengthy transfer from EZE to our friend Rachel’s hacienda in Palermo it was café time! We felt fortunate to have a BA insider to greet us as Rachel has been in the city three months since leaving Bermuda. Sadly, it was her last day here so we decided to take the city tour so she could give us the inside scoop.
BA is a city of some 3 million, which swells to 13 including the outlying neighborhoods, referred to as ‘barrios’. Rachel began the tour by enforcing pedestrian survival skills. Cars never slow at intersections; sometimes slow / stop at stop signs, and crosswalks are only to keep city painters employed. Finally, owners are under no obligation by law or conscious to pick up their dog's droppings. Walker beware. With that bit of knowledge in hand we hit the pavement.
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| Japanese Gardens, Barrio Norte |
Palermo is considered one of the trendy neighborhoods; numerous shop, cafes, restaurants, and outdoor patios dot the tree-lined streets (Calles). We stopped for lunch at one such patio catching up on Rachel’s past three months living as a ‘porteno’ (BA Resident).
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| Almurezo time in Palermo |
With an afternoon of touring we were ready for a siesta and Rachel was kind enough to indulge us. Snoring in record time we got caught up on some lost hours from the travel days.
We arrived for early seating – at 10pm - at Sudestead, Rachel’s favorite neighborhood restaurant. The Asian fusion menu was fresh, spicy, and exciting as was the conversation. We made a short tour of some other local favorites before settling on a classy little wine bar where sampled numerous offerings and gave Rachel a final ‘cheers’.
We hit the bed @ 3am full and tired…
Rachel escorted us to the ‘Subte’ Subway the next morning with us off to the barrio of Montserrat where we had accommodation for the next 2 days. The low ceilings, doorways, and warm temperatures below ground were a little disconcerting but we passed our first ‘backpacking’ test with little more than sore upper body muscles weakened by 2 months of cycling.
With more errands to run we hit the streets, now somewhat empty with it being siesta. Our route crossed the enormous Ave 25 de Mayo, which took us two traffic lights to traverse. After a visit to a travel agent to make final plans for the weekend we wandered down Florida St.. Open only to pedestrians it was a sea of humanity on a sunny, sweltering Wednesday. Shopping is the name of the game here with all the usual players. Even a Starbucks to appease the ex-cycling tourists.
We settled on an almurezo (snack) at the historic Café Los Angelitos, a stones throw from the government buildings followed by an ill-fated attempt to siesta. Sleep first, café second!
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| Cafe Los Angelitos |
Friday began relatively early as we had a Spanish lesson! Both nervous and excited we wandered to the quaint neighborhood of San Telmo were we met Leticia who would help us get a started on the basics while providing a tour of this historic cobble stoned area.
While Dee is a star student already, I am still a ‘work in progress’, reminded of my struggles in grade 7 French class. At least I provided comic humor – “ I AM Lasagna!”
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| Too tall for midget tango! |
We saw the city’s smallest door (to a tango bar), the narrowest house, and dozens of Parillas (steak houses) in our three hours. The late afternoon was spent getting the proper order to the siesta / café before enjoying a late night dinner and trying to put some sentences together in Spanish.
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| Obelisk @ Ave 9 Julio |
We have rented an apartment for our return to BA at the end of the month and used the late morning on Saturday to do a walk by and see the barrio up close. We hustled down to posh Recoleta where we met Leticia for our second lesson.
Our walk included having to ask for directions – ‘De Donde es?’ and grocery shopping for a chocolate cake recipe. I am sure the poor victims who had to hear me butcher their language has some entertaining evening conversation –
“I… am – no need… dulce thank you having chocolate… flour, now…”
Back to the hotel to gather the bags, we caught Subte to the enormous Retiro bus station, boarding the overnight bus to the Iguazu Falls in the country’s northeast corner.
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