Mountains, Meat, and Malbec...

Argentina.   Besides knowing how to badly hum the catchy “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina”*, or learning as a teenager that Argentina is a great location to start any RISK campaign, I have to confess that I didn’t really know all that much about it.  Sure, I had a pretty good idea that there’d be top-notch beef and wine, and that the tango would figure prominently.  Oh, and that the Falkland Islands (or Malvinas as they are known locally) would figure in somehow:

[*Random aside:  Oh, and apologies if that song is echoing around your noggin, and you find yourself annoying family, friends, and strangers… it can’t be helped.  Eva Peron’s memory is EVERYWHERE.  She’s an ever-present near-saint in Argentina… actually literally, as she was nominated for sainthood.]

Yet… I’d always been strangely drawn to the place.  I had intended to check it out during either of my last RTW trips, yet both unfortunately took place during Argentina’s winter.  But this year, all conditions were perfect – I had a super-understanding boss, so I pulled the trigger for a three week  trip.

It must be said that the trip did get off to a bit of a rocky start… I’m a pretty positive guy, but my first two days in Buenos Aires weren’t the highlight of the trip.  The combination of my luggage not showing up, incompetent Alitalia service, and a bird poo scam – well, it tried my patience.

To keep this blog relatively concise, you can read the full story/rant here :)

Ahhh, all better – now that I’ve got that off my chest, the rest of my time in BA was actually pretty cool.  The city really reminded me of a faded Madrid – similar European architecture, but with a cool Latin American vibe.

Alas, I missed the ‘glory days’ of travelling to Argentina – when their currency was super depressed, and the dollar was king.  Now, with a booming economy and inflation at (gulp) 20%, it’s only slight cheaper than travelling in Rome or other European capitals.  To top it all off, although the currency is the Argentinean peso (4 to the dollar, 6 to the Euro), they use the $ sign – which instinctively makes you flinch seeing the prices like these for lunch:

Anywho – after cleaning up from the bird poo scam, the rest of my time went pretty smoothly.  I had fun wandering around the Microcentro district on the Lonely Planet walking tour, checking out such edifices as the President’s residence - Casa Rosada (Pink House), and most of the main squares.

The rambling tour was fun, but I wanted to check out a district with a bit more mellow of a vibe, so ended up in the hip barrio of Palermo.  And what a breath of fresh air it was – with funky shops, cool cafes, a surprisingly pedestrian-friendly attitude, and even friendly cats, this would become my home for the rest of my stay.  Some beers while watching Argentinean footie were a great way to round out my first day.

Now, while my hostel was essentially rubbish, they did introduce me to the wonders of the Argentine breakfast.  Sure, they have coffee, tea, and bread like many other countries.  But, the Argentines are renowned for their appetite for sweets, and breakfast is no different – every day can start with dulce de leche (think thick caramel spread) on toast.  Delicious and oh-so-bad for you.  Purely to fit in with the locals, I became a fast convert for the rest of my trip.

Buzzing from the breakfast, I headed out super early to the Boca neighbourhood – home of the world-famous Boca Jrs. football team.  It’s a rough area normally, so my initial walk from a renovated river district through the barrio kept me glancing about warily.  But, at 9am on a Sunday morning, it was safe enough – and felt a bit like Cuba with an endearing mix of crumbling old buildings, classic cars that were well-used, if not well-loved, and neighbours out exchanging gossip. 

La Boca also features a famous district called El Chaquito where the only architectural rule seemed to be – “COLOR… IS… AWESOME.”  Any color, any where, in fact.

Luckily, I had beaten the busloads of tourists with an early start, so had fun walking around the streets in the morning light.  The area’s passion for their football team was everywhere – from wall murals to a local pet:

The rest of the morning, I checked out one of BA’s many street fairs in the well-preserved district of San Telmo – where you could see everything from a late-night celebrant still sleeping it off on the street to local musicians was on display.  Deservedly famished, I wound up at a parillada (meat grilling restaurant), where the locals indulge their love of all things grilled.

I have no idea how the city functions with this sort of diet – it was delicious, but I was in a food coma for much of the afternoon.  I tried walking off most of it checking out BA’s cemetery for rich, famous, and now mostly forgotten – including this near-perfect likeness for Dr. Evil from Austin Powers:

Now, BA is pretty religious, but I had to chuckle at this weird juxtaposition of commercialized sexuality and faith:

A nap in a crowded park and a wander through yet another market rounded out the day – and it was time to man up for my first attack on the legendary BA steak feasts.  Being a gringo, I showed up at 7:30 to a famous parillada in Palermo called Don Juan’s and… only to find it didn’t even open until 8, and didn't get busy 'til 9:30.

One big bife de lomo (tenderloin) and a huge glass of Malbec later, and it was “stick a fork in me” time – I was done for the day.

The next few days were pretty chilled out – less of the standard touristy bits, and more of just relaxing in Palermo.  I quickly became a regular of an amazingly good taco place – where the combination of Argentinean beef with authentic Mexican ingredients proved to good to resist.  In fact, I’m going to take a moment now to just remember how good it was…

Right – back on track… two days were spent working from a succession of cafes in a sort of constant cappuccino-fueled buzz, and then enjoying a late afternoon drink overlooking the streets.  Good times.

It wasn’t all sloth and laziness though.  I did muster up enough energy to walk some of that amazing food off with a trip through BA’s restored wetlands.  A few hundred acres of general marshiness and views across the massive Rio de la Plata inspired me to pay homage to the local beef gods, and I took a chance on yet another local meat grilling stand.  Total street fare, yet surprisingly tasty.

Finally, after five days, I was more than ready to move one.  BA is known as the city that never sleeps – and if you’re a partying type, it could definitely be heaven.  You’ll find clubs that don’t even open ‘til 2am, bars galore, and enough ways to damage your liver for a dozen people.  For me though, especially travelling solo, it wasn’t really my thing – it was time to get down to the main reason for my trip… Patagonia!