Day ...9?
The days after my birthday have gone by swiftly. Not necessarily because they were jampacked with activty, but because the whirlwind touring has caught up with us. Mental fatigue has set in. Even though we've said we would slow down or take it easy, we're still managing to pack in a lot of stuff, and a lot of walking.
The highlight reel for the end of the week: MALBA, La Boca, Confeteria Ideal Milonga.
Thursday was our day to check out the museum of latino art, otherwise known as MALBA. They had an exhibition of work from Carlos Cruz-Diez, who is now C's new hero. It was fascinating to see the artist's progression from somewhat crude, represntational art to these very abstract, very cool works of art that change based on your perspective. The name of the exhibition was "El color en el espacio y en el tiempo" (Color in Space and Time) and it certainly was just that. The more recent art had strips of board with different colors on each facet that stuck out of the painting in various degrees and angles. The effect was that you could walk up to a painting, looking at it dead on, and see nothing but a solid color; then when you walked over to the side, you would see a rectangle of a different color emerge. A flat picture would certainly not do this work justice, so even if I had been able to take pictures I wouldn't be able to share the experience with you. I really enjoyed the exhibit. You should check it out if it ever comes to a museum near you - if that sort of thing appeals to you.
Friday we headed out early for La Boca. It really was pretty early for us - we had breakfast at home and were ready to leave before 11am. The guidebook was full of dire warnings about how dangerous La Boca is, how it is home to the poorest segment of the population, and it's not safe to walk along most of the side streets, or along the water. However, it also has this big tourist destination: El Caminito. The neighborhood is situated right next to a port, and was once inhabited by poor Italian immigrants who built their houses with corrugated steel and other materials on hand. It is said that they "borrowed" paint for their houses from the ships they worked on, resulting in the houses being painted in bright, sometimes garish colors. It is also said that the tango dance started in the brothels of this neighborhood. Tourists flock to see the brightly painted houses, which have been kept in much the same condition over the years. If anything, the colors have gotten brighter and more eye catching. One or two famous brothels have been turned into museums with life-sized sculpture of men in suits and whores leaning over balconies. I think these are made of papier mache or something - possibly plaster - so they have a crumpled look to them.
The result of all this "historial preservation," if you can even call it that, is that you have something like SF Fisherman's Wharf stuck in the middle of a neighborhood like West Oakland. (For those who don't know SF Bay Area references, replace Fisherman's Wharf with any tacky tourist trap you know, and replace West Oakland with any poor, crime infested, slightly industrial, inner city neighborhood. The tourists mostly confine themselves to this little circuit where they walk around taking pictures of all the brightly painted houses and browsing the trinkets in countless little "antique malls" or souvenir shops. Most of the junk on offer here is made in China, but even the made-in-Argentina "crafts" seem to be mass produced and gaudy. And over priced.
We had other things in mind. C had read about a great parilla somewhat off the beaten path that had played host to a few celebrities over the years. A hidden gem called El Obrero. To get there, we would need to walk a few side streets in La Boca, which had me a trifle worried because of all the dire warnings in our guide books. All sources encouraged cab or tour bus to get to and from La Boca, and "don't even consider walking along the waterfront" back toward San Telmo. So before we set out, I removed all of our credit cards from our wallets, and stashed a few hundred pesos in this silk bra pouch I had purchased for the trip - an easy way to hide a few bills that is much less conspicuous than the typical traveller's money belt. I figured this way if we did get robbed, we would avoid the hassle of needing to cancel credit cards, and would still have the money to get a cab back home.
When we stepped out of the cab into the tourist trap of El Caminito, we both laughed at my precautions. The place was swarming with tourists, and with locals trying to take advantage of them. Want to take a picture with a tango dancer? How about sticking your face into a painting of a tango dancer? No? Do you want to have a drink at this fine restaurant? How 'bout this one? The in-your-face hawking reminded us of the strip along the waterfront in Ensenada where rows and rows of taco stands are set up next to picnic tables. Walking down the strip you are accosted from all directions by persistent, almost desperate, salespeople offering 2 fish tacos for a dollar. We walked the circuit dutifully, took some pictures, and then left the touristed area in search of our parilla. This led us past the famous stadium where local futbal favorites La Boca Jrs are based, and then down a few side streets, where the houses were not painted, and were mixed with car shops and little markets with sad looking vegetables.
We found El Obrero without incident, and since it was just after noon there was not a single patron in the restaurant, and about six waiters. We found seats and took in our surroundings. The place was covered floor to ceiling in futbal memorabilia; photos of legendary players, pennants, etc. While we were there, we watched a couple come in and donate a pennant to the wall. The man was proudly showing off the autograph he had gotten on the back of it. They love their soccer in these parts.
As we were eating, the restaurant filled up with mostly locals. True to the name (El Obrero means something like the worker or working man) most of the patrons who came in after us were single or groups of working class men. Some were in greasy coveralls, and all were dressed more casually and less fashionably than the locals we have seen to date in the rich and trendy neighborhoods we've frequented. The food was great - we ordered lomo again (did I mention I've finallly discovered that it means tenderloin?) and I must say it was at least on par with the first lomo I had at Juana M, and possibly the best steak I've had in Argentina. Plus, I was pleased to find a simple arugula salad on the menu, since most of the salads we've gotten have been disappointing - too many ingredients, and bitter lettuce. This one came with way to much parmesan cheese, but that's a problem easilly solved by letting it sink to the bottom of the bowl. Otherwise, the arugula was excellent.
Walking back from the restaurant, we took the major avenida cutting through town as we had been instructed by our tour guides, and swung around to see the other major point of local interest: a big orange metal bridge, just called La Boca bridge. C got some pictures, and as we were turning to head back to El Caminito a nice woman came up to us gesticulating wildly and shaking her head. "Muy peligroso" and "siempre la avenida" and other words of caution. She was telling us to always stick to the large avenue, not to go down any side streets, telling us it is very dangerous. This simple gesture of kindness sets La Boca apart in my mind from sketchy 'hoods in other parts of the world, where people don't generally come up to a stranger and set them on the path to safety. It seems like big city folk in the US generally keep to themselves, and even when they see wayward tourists heading for trouble most people just don't want to get involved. I hope I'm wrong about that characterization.
We followed the nice woman's advice, walking around the port back to El Caminito rather than taking the more direct route I had been eyeing. Rather than catching a cab, we decided to take a bus up to San Telmo (finally! I convinced C to try the bus, and it was totally easy!) and then walked from San Telmo to Centro again, looking for a little resto he had seen on our first day there. We never found it, but we landed at Confiteria Ideal (to be described in the next installment.) We have never needed naps so badly as we did after this mammoth day. And we hadn't even had dinner yet.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
La Gran Cuarenta
Day 7: The Big B-Day
With fresh clean clothes and a whole day of "whatever you want, Lo, it's your day" ahead of me, we set off immediately for Palermo where I was hoping to go to a boulangerie-type shop I had seen on the web instead of our local coffee joint. When we got to the neighborhood, we found that our destination was papered over. We've heard that things open and close quite rapidly in Palermo, so you can't trust what you find in the guide books or even on the web. Undiscouraged, we did find an awesome bookstore with a cafe in the back. The bookstore itself reminded me of the Elliott Bay bookstore in Seattle. But maybe a bit more modern, and with really tall ceilings. The cafe had a tall plaster wall spanning two floors that was covered in black and white graffiti. It also had an atrium area. We ended up getting close to the standard morning fare, but at least at this place there was a larger selection of pastries.
| After breaking the fast, and browsing the bookshelves, we headed out to the main destination for the day: Gretaflora, a shoe store specializing in really cute tango shoes. I bought a sassy pair of shoes, and then we wandered around the area checking out the shops and grabbing a bite here, a drink there. I was somewhat hoping that I could find a killer dress that I could wear out that evening, but it's become abundantly clear that the little designer boutiques in Palermo are a bit more expensive than I'd like, and targeting the younger, slimmer set. You'd think with all the surgical enhancements I've seen around here that I might find something built for bustier broads. But alas, I still have not found the store for curvy ladies. |
 |
Returning home, we took a "disco nap" for an hour, then started to get ready for our evening out. C had made reservations at a foodie hot spot. We got gussied up, and I strapped on my new shoes. Sucre was a gorgeous restaurant with an open kitchen at the back and a two-story bar wall housing beautifully lit bottles of all shapes and colors. Halfway up the wall is a catwalk by which you gain access to the bathrooms. In addition to the stunning environment, we enjoyed a very good meal. The menu featured more lamb than beef (yay!) and the extensive wine list offered a great selection of wines from Argentina and elsewhere. We had a delicious plate of octopus, the most tender and tasty octopus I've had, as well as an amazing tarte tatin with a roasted heirloom tomato on top. The tarte was a bit sweet with the roasted tomato, and the pastry crust was perfectly flakey. For our main, we had a divine lamb shoulder with cous cous. The wines were good, but didn't knock my socks off. For dessert, a chocolate volcano (volcada if the menu had been in Spanish, which it was not.)
I'd say the only 'problem" with that dinner was that it could have been anywhere in the world. And even though we had a "late" reservation at 9pm, the place was almost completely full of Americans (or English speakers, at least) when we got there. As mentioned, the menu was entirely in English, so I was wondering if anyone who actually lives in the city ever eats there or if it's just a guidebook destination. Only when we moved on to our entree did we start to see some Portenos filtering in, once again showing us that even when we delay eating to what we think is the "right" time, we seem to be a half hour early still.
On this night, I was glad to be dining a little earlier, though, because we had a milonga to attend. After dinner we took a cab back to Palermo, and entered Salon Canning. It's a beautiful space, and we were early enough that we were able to get a table. We sat watching for a tanda or two (a set of usually about 3-4 dances) before getting up to take a spin. Then we settled into a pattern of dancing one tanda, and sitting out a couple. At some point after we had danced a few times, I noticed a man smiling and nodding at me. I was so taken aback I had to look around to be sure he was actually motioning at me, but indeed he was. I walked over and we stepped out onto the dance floor. We danced one number, and as we were waiting for the next one to get going, he asked me (in English) where I was from. When I told him California, he seemed to get excited and said "Really? Where in California?" and when I told him SF he said "Why don't I ever see you out dancing?" Turns out he lives in Walnut Creek. We finished the tanda together and he thanked me for the nice dances. That was the only partner I had other than C for the night, but it was nice to meet and dance with one other person. It's just funny to come all the way to BA to dance with someone from the other BA (SF Bay Area.)
Around midnight, we noticed that Willem Dafoe was in the house again. This time, we actually saw him dancing a few times. (He's in the center of the above photo - not that you can really tell, but it's the best I could do...) He seems to be just learning, as I saw him doing the "basic" pattern and one or two other moves. He seemed a bit tentative, and was definitely concentrating. I feel sorry for any man just starting to learn tango, because it's so complicated at first. For a celebrity, it seems like it would be worse, because it's hard to recede into the crowd while you're dancing. I know I had a hard time not watching or seeking him out in the crowd. At least a non-celebrity can be mostly assured that nobody will be watching him for very long, so people are not likely to notice if you do the same move over and over. Or if you flub something. Anyway, I hope Mr. Dafoe finds enjoyment in it, and I wonder if we'll see him again before we leave. C wants me to aks him to dance, but I think that would be too forward. Besides, I have only seen him dancing with the one woman in his entourage.
It must have been around 1 am when an announcer came out and introduced a band. Until then, we had been dancing to taped music, but now, well after midnight, the band finally came out. They were amazing. I think there were only seven players - 2 bandoneones, 1 piano, 1 keyboard, 2 violins, 1 upright bass, and a horn player (might have been the keyboardist) - but their sound was really rich. It sounded to me like an orchestra. The playing was great, with lots of drama and dynamic range (both tempo and volume.) I was surprised at the response from the crowd when they first started; the floor had been cleared and everyone stood or sat watching. Noboday danced for the first three numbers, after which two, then three, then several couples started dancing. Finally, the floor was packed again, but I thought it was interesting that it didn't fill up immediately when the band started playing. It was as if they all wanted to focus some attention on the players first. The audience was definitely very appreciative, and several people were filming. I took a snippet of video on my phone just to capture the sound.
By about 2:30, my feet were throbbing, and I decided it was time to go. The milonga lasts until 4 am, but I didn't want to force C to stay that late. He was shivering from the AC, and we were having difficulties navigating the floor when it was so packed. So we settled our drink bill and grabbed a taxi. Because there were others leaving at the same time, it took us at least three minutes to flag down a taxi. Usually, we get a cab within a minute. As we were getting into the cab, we saw a group of dancers spilling out of another one, on there way in to the dance. On a Tuesday night. These people are hard core.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Domingo in San Telmo
Day 5:
While planning this trip, Palermo was the destination of choice for C, but I've been more looking forward to San Telmo. Everything I've read about it made me think we'd feel at home there, and not just because it is known as the heart of Tango in Buenos Aires. It's also known as an artist district. San Telmo was once the richest neighborhood in town, until the wealthy fled during a yellow fever outbreak. It is now more of a working class neighborhood with a bohemian, artsy vibe, and fabulous old architecture hinting at the former wealth. In a way, it reminds me of parts of Capitol Hill in Seattle. Not in terms of architecture, but in terms of the vibe.
We had decided to check out San Telmo on the day when everyone else would be doing the same - namely the San Telmo market or street fair that happens each Sunday. I've never seen such a big fair. In truth, it could have been a few blocks shorter, because I started to see duplicates in the trinkets and bags on offer, but we enjoyed strolling the miles of vendor stalls. Correction: mile. I mapped it and it comes out to about a mile-long stretch of closed-off cobblestone street lined with vendors and completely packed with tourists and Portenos alike.
Very close to the beginning of our journey through this tchotchke bazaar, we stopped to watch an old tanguero who offered to dance with women in the crowd. We watched a few touristas stumble through some dance moves. Then C pulled out the camera and pushed me forward (like I needed any encouragement) so I could give it a whirl. The tanguero took my hand and held me in a very light, open embrace. We took a few steps, and he said a few incomprehensible words of encouragement. He the led a half ocho (is that called a cortado?) and smiled a big smile at me. He asked if I was Spanish, I think, but maybe he was asking if I speak Spanish? I said no, and he just smiled and said something like "ah well" as he led me in a few more figures. After a few bars, my turn was over and he sent me off with applause. Thus ended my first dance with a local. C got some great photos, but they're on the camera, and therefore not accessible right now. I'll post those when we return home.
The rest of the San Telmo day went well. We saw a lot of cool things, and purchased a few. After walking all the way up to Centro and back, we were tired, but not ready to head home. On the way, we stopped for coffee/tea at the first place that actually offered me an array of tea choices. It was a sweet little place that reminded me of my mother-in-law. It had cute little bistro tables, and it doubled as cafe and housewares shop, with nice vases and things along one wall. This was the first tea in Buenos Aires I've been able to enjoy without adding milk. After our drinks, we wandered further in the direction of a large park near the border of San Telmo and La Boca. I had read about a resto I wanted to check out in that hood. However, it was still late afternoon, and we needed to kill some time. We found a cool looking bar/cafe next to a large park, and had more drinks. This place was named after a hipopotamus, and had a big iron hippo up on one of the cabinets. C ordered a cervesa (beer) this time but I went for tea again, since it's the only thing without sugar, aside from water, that I can enjoy. I'm hoping to get some weight-loss benefit from all this walking, and loading up on sugar doesn't seem like the best strategy.
After drinks, we strolled around the park, in awe of the vitality of this city park. Unlike other city parks we've frequented, this place was full of people: kids running around playing games, families with small children, a large group of old men huddled around three chess games, and a smattering of smooching couples. I read somewhere that young people typically live with their parents until they get married, so they never have a place to go for marathon make-out sessions. This is where the parks come in handy. Sure enough, I don't think we've been to a park yet that didn't have at least one couple in a lip-lock.
By this time (around 7pm) the wind had kicked up, so we wanted to get into a warm place. We walked down to the street with the little restaurant I was looking for. I didn't remember the name, but I figured I'd find it based on knowing roughly where on the street it was. We did end up finding a place, but it wasn't the one I was looking for. We tried to order food, but for the first time since we arrived in BA, we were on "American" time instead of Argentine time. Restaurants do not open for dinner until at least 8/8:30, and we were trying to order dinner at roughly 7:30. Sorry, la cocina esta cerrada. So we decided to order mate service instead, while we waited for dinner time.
Mate is a strange drink. Interesting, but not particularly enjoyable to me. In fact, it tasted to me like a liquid cigarette. I am not the first person to make this comparison to tobacco. We munched on toast, drank a fews sips of this really bitter liquid (even after adding sugar) and looked at our photos to while away the hour before dinner service started. After drinking a fair bit of mate and the previous few cups of tea, I felt wired. I was glad when we could finally get to eating, and surprised to find that this all-vegetarian restaurant we stumbled into served the best bread we've had in BA. And the dishes we ordered were fantastic, and came as a welcome respite from the meat-centric diet found elsewhere in town. I would certainly go back - at the approved lunch or dinner hours.
While planning this trip, Palermo was the destination of choice for C, but I've been more looking forward to San Telmo. Everything I've read about it made me think we'd feel at home there, and not just because it is known as the heart of Tango in Buenos Aires. It's also known as an artist district. San Telmo was once the richest neighborhood in town, until the wealthy fled during a yellow fever outbreak. It is now more of a working class neighborhood with a bohemian, artsy vibe, and fabulous old architecture hinting at the former wealth. In a way, it reminds me of parts of Capitol Hill in Seattle. Not in terms of architecture, but in terms of the vibe.
We had decided to check out San Telmo on the day when everyone else would be doing the same - namely the San Telmo market or street fair that happens each Sunday. I've never seen such a big fair. In truth, it could have been a few blocks shorter, because I started to see duplicates in the trinkets and bags on offer, but we enjoyed strolling the miles of vendor stalls. Correction: mile. I mapped it and it comes out to about a mile-long stretch of closed-off cobblestone street lined with vendors and completely packed with tourists and Portenos alike.
Very close to the beginning of our journey through this tchotchke bazaar, we stopped to watch an old tanguero who offered to dance with women in the crowd. We watched a few touristas stumble through some dance moves. Then C pulled out the camera and pushed me forward (like I needed any encouragement) so I could give it a whirl. The tanguero took my hand and held me in a very light, open embrace. We took a few steps, and he said a few incomprehensible words of encouragement. He the led a half ocho (is that called a cortado?) and smiled a big smile at me. He asked if I was Spanish, I think, but maybe he was asking if I speak Spanish? I said no, and he just smiled and said something like "ah well" as he led me in a few more figures. After a few bars, my turn was over and he sent me off with applause. Thus ended my first dance with a local. C got some great photos, but they're on the camera, and therefore not accessible right now. I'll post those when we return home.
The rest of the San Telmo day went well. We saw a lot of cool things, and purchased a few. After walking all the way up to Centro and back, we were tired, but not ready to head home. On the way, we stopped for coffee/tea at the first place that actually offered me an array of tea choices. It was a sweet little place that reminded me of my mother-in-law. It had cute little bistro tables, and it doubled as cafe and housewares shop, with nice vases and things along one wall. This was the first tea in Buenos Aires I've been able to enjoy without adding milk. After our drinks, we wandered further in the direction of a large park near the border of San Telmo and La Boca. I had read about a resto I wanted to check out in that hood. However, it was still late afternoon, and we needed to kill some time. We found a cool looking bar/cafe next to a large park, and had more drinks. This place was named after a hipopotamus, and had a big iron hippo up on one of the cabinets. C ordered a cervesa (beer) this time but I went for tea again, since it's the only thing without sugar, aside from water, that I can enjoy. I'm hoping to get some weight-loss benefit from all this walking, and loading up on sugar doesn't seem like the best strategy.
After drinks, we strolled around the park, in awe of the vitality of this city park. Unlike other city parks we've frequented, this place was full of people: kids running around playing games, families with small children, a large group of old men huddled around three chess games, and a smattering of smooching couples. I read somewhere that young people typically live with their parents until they get married, so they never have a place to go for marathon make-out sessions. This is where the parks come in handy. Sure enough, I don't think we've been to a park yet that didn't have at least one couple in a lip-lock.
By this time (around 7pm) the wind had kicked up, so we wanted to get into a warm place. We walked down to the street with the little restaurant I was looking for. I didn't remember the name, but I figured I'd find it based on knowing roughly where on the street it was. We did end up finding a place, but it wasn't the one I was looking for. We tried to order food, but for the first time since we arrived in BA, we were on "American" time instead of Argentine time. Restaurants do not open for dinner until at least 8/8:30, and we were trying to order dinner at roughly 7:30. Sorry, la cocina esta cerrada. So we decided to order mate service instead, while we waited for dinner time.
Mate is a strange drink. Interesting, but not particularly enjoyable to me. In fact, it tasted to me like a liquid cigarette. I am not the first person to make this comparison to tobacco. We munched on toast, drank a fews sips of this really bitter liquid (even after adding sugar) and looked at our photos to while away the hour before dinner service started. After drinking a fair bit of mate and the previous few cups of tea, I felt wired. I was glad when we could finally get to eating, and surprised to find that this all-vegetarian restaurant we stumbled into served the best bread we've had in BA. And the dishes we ordered were fantastic, and came as a welcome respite from the meat-centric diet found elsewhere in town. I would certainly go back - at the approved lunch or dinner hours.
A Day of rest
Day 6:
We designated Monday as a day of rest. After the marathon sight seeing of our first few days, we needed some time for upkeep. Agenda for the day: laundry, hang out at cafe and draw or write. The only real entertainment planned was to check out a tango class and practica in the evening.
We did manage to buy laundry detergent, and get our clothes cleaned. We also did some drawing and writing. We went to dinner in Palermo. Wound up at a place called Miranda, which had good standard parilla fare; we ordered bife de chorizo, grilled vegetables, and a baked potato. After dinner we wandered over to the practica. We had already missed the lesson by the time we set out for dinner, and both of us were feeling a little too tired to brave the milonga. So we looked at it and went home. The overarching goal being to rest, I think we accomplished what we set out to do for the day.
We designated Monday as a day of rest. After the marathon sight seeing of our first few days, we needed some time for upkeep. Agenda for the day: laundry, hang out at cafe and draw or write. The only real entertainment planned was to check out a tango class and practica in the evening.
We did manage to buy laundry detergent, and get our clothes cleaned. We also did some drawing and writing. We went to dinner in Palermo. Wound up at a place called Miranda, which had good standard parilla fare; we ordered bife de chorizo, grilled vegetables, and a baked potato. After dinner we wandered over to the practica. We had already missed the lesson by the time we set out for dinner, and both of us were feeling a little too tired to brave the milonga. So we looked at it and went home. The overarching goal being to rest, I think we accomplished what we set out to do for the day.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Pure exhaustion
I'm getting a bit behind the times here, so I'm going to start condensing and collapsing. Condensing the posts, and collapsing from sheer exhaustion.
Day 3:
Things are beginning to blur together a bit. Day 3 was a Friday, and we walked up to a cafe called Clasica y Moderna for brunch. Actually lunch. Even after 5 days in town we still haven't managed to get up before 11 am. But this doesn't seem to be a problem. Classica y Moderna is a cute cafe with a bookstore in the back. Really nice "old-school" feeling to it. From there, we wandered our way back toward our apartment, taking in some of the shops in Barrio Norte and Recoleta along the way.
We decided to go out to the cabaret show at the theme-park like Faena "Hotel and Universe" in Puerto Madero, co-designed and art directed by famous architect & designer Phillipe Starck. The experience was exquisite, which is a good thing because it was also extremely expensive. Even by San Francisco standards. Let's just say that we dropped more money on this night than we did on my birthday a few years ago at Masa's. Those in the know will know what I mean.
The show itself was top notch - great tango dancing, and excellent musicians. One of the singers reminded both of us of our friend Adam in Seattle. The food was very good, although the lomo I had on our first night was definitely better. But that's to be expected at these tango shows. However, given that the meal reservation gave us access to a table right in front of the stage, I would say that it was well worth it.
Beyond the show, I can't even describe how amazing the rest of the space was. The theater was draped all around in red velvet and made me think of a David Lynch film. To get into the theater patrons walk down a very long hallway with several bars, a restaurant, and a gift shop along the way. The entire hallway has a long black velvet bench cutting up the middle. Looking into the restaurant next to the theater, I could see porcelain unicorn heads lining the walls, with white linens on the table. I can't do it justice, and didn't have my phone to take photos, so you'll just have to take my word for it. The effect was stunning and fantastical. The pool bar was also amazing in a completely different way. Nice and loungy.
Anyway, it's clear that the Faena-Stark team have built something exquisite and unique for the 1% to enjoy while not seeing anything else in Buenos Aires. Why bother checking out the bustling city when you could stay relaxed in your little bubble of a "Universe?"
Day 4:
After seeing Puerto Madero by night, we decided to walk there by day. The focus/highlight of the trek would be the Puente de la Mujer, designed by Santiago Calatrava. It was a long walk, made even longer by the little detour we made up through Plaza San Martin. It's a bit of a blur now, but I'm sure walked up into Microcentro in search of a specific cafe C read about in one of the guide books. I think we were also lured in by the prospect of seeing the inside of Casa Rosada, the presidential palace akin to our White House, only much cooler because it's Pink. :)
We walked through the gallery of the house, but decided not to get tickets and wait in line to gain further access. Instead, we walked back down to the river and crossed over to Puerto Madero. Along the way, we saw a lot of runners in Nike shirts that said "We Run Buenos Aires." Wondering if there had been a race earlier that day, we took a break at a waterfront tourist trap where we could enjoy views of the rivier and the famous pedestrian bridge. As we enjoyed our bebidas, we saw more and more of the runners making their way along the river. As we were paying our bill, we heard the cry of announcers over a loudspeaker somewhere across the river, and then we saw masses of runners moving along a parallel street. We made our way across the bridge, taking lots of photos, and toward the sound of the loudspeakers. As we got to the place where the race had started, we saw the runners near the front of the pack that were coming in to the finish. C said it was a 10K, and it appears the first runners completed it in under 40 mins. At least, I thought I could make out a clock at the finish line with a leading 4 in it. [Edited to add: I looked on the website and it appears the first runner clocked in at 28 minutes!]
Later that evening, when we got home and decided to veg in front of the TV, I got out my trusty google maps and calculated our wanderings. According to my calculations, we walked at least 10K in well over 4 hours. Maybe not as impressive as the run, but I felt some kinship with those runners. And as I made my way up the stairs to our loft bedroom, I definitely felt like I had run a race.
Las Observaciones de los Dias:
- Portenos are really into their 80's Americana. We've been to an "American Diner" in Palermo SoHo with impeccable 50's era furnishings, serving somewhat American-style milkshakes and food, and projecting 80's music videos on the wall. Almost every cab ride has featured some hits from the 80's on the radio, and we wandered into an entire mall devoted to American skate punk style, with lots of shirts and gear featuring bands like the Ramones. We've even heard a nuevo-tango version of Blue Monday by New Order.
- I do not look at all like a Porteno. This was made abundantly clear by the 3-4 year old girl from another apartment in our building who stared wide-eyed at me as we were passing in the hall. Her dad had to chide her not to stare.
Day 3:
Things are beginning to blur together a bit. Day 3 was a Friday, and we walked up to a cafe called Clasica y Moderna for brunch. Actually lunch. Even after 5 days in town we still haven't managed to get up before 11 am. But this doesn't seem to be a problem. Classica y Moderna is a cute cafe with a bookstore in the back. Really nice "old-school" feeling to it. From there, we wandered our way back toward our apartment, taking in some of the shops in Barrio Norte and Recoleta along the way.
We decided to go out to the cabaret show at the theme-park like Faena "Hotel and Universe" in Puerto Madero, co-designed and art directed by famous architect & designer Phillipe Starck. The experience was exquisite, which is a good thing because it was also extremely expensive. Even by San Francisco standards. Let's just say that we dropped more money on this night than we did on my birthday a few years ago at Masa's. Those in the know will know what I mean.
The show itself was top notch - great tango dancing, and excellent musicians. One of the singers reminded both of us of our friend Adam in Seattle. The food was very good, although the lomo I had on our first night was definitely better. But that's to be expected at these tango shows. However, given that the meal reservation gave us access to a table right in front of the stage, I would say that it was well worth it.
Beyond the show, I can't even describe how amazing the rest of the space was. The theater was draped all around in red velvet and made me think of a David Lynch film. To get into the theater patrons walk down a very long hallway with several bars, a restaurant, and a gift shop along the way. The entire hallway has a long black velvet bench cutting up the middle. Looking into the restaurant next to the theater, I could see porcelain unicorn heads lining the walls, with white linens on the table. I can't do it justice, and didn't have my phone to take photos, so you'll just have to take my word for it. The effect was stunning and fantastical. The pool bar was also amazing in a completely different way. Nice and loungy.
Anyway, it's clear that the Faena-Stark team have built something exquisite and unique for the 1% to enjoy while not seeing anything else in Buenos Aires. Why bother checking out the bustling city when you could stay relaxed in your little bubble of a "Universe?"
Day 4:
After seeing Puerto Madero by night, we decided to walk there by day. The focus/highlight of the trek would be the Puente de la Mujer, designed by Santiago Calatrava. It was a long walk, made even longer by the little detour we made up through Plaza San Martin. It's a bit of a blur now, but I'm sure walked up into Microcentro in search of a specific cafe C read about in one of the guide books. I think we were also lured in by the prospect of seeing the inside of Casa Rosada, the presidential palace akin to our White House, only much cooler because it's Pink. :)
We walked through the gallery of the house, but decided not to get tickets and wait in line to gain further access. Instead, we walked back down to the river and crossed over to Puerto Madero. Along the way, we saw a lot of runners in Nike shirts that said "We Run Buenos Aires." Wondering if there had been a race earlier that day, we took a break at a waterfront tourist trap where we could enjoy views of the rivier and the famous pedestrian bridge. As we enjoyed our bebidas, we saw more and more of the runners making their way along the river. As we were paying our bill, we heard the cry of announcers over a loudspeaker somewhere across the river, and then we saw masses of runners moving along a parallel street. We made our way across the bridge, taking lots of photos, and toward the sound of the loudspeakers. As we got to the place where the race had started, we saw the runners near the front of the pack that were coming in to the finish. C said it was a 10K, and it appears the first runners completed it in under 40 mins. At least, I thought I could make out a clock at the finish line with a leading 4 in it. [Edited to add: I looked on the website and it appears the first runner clocked in at 28 minutes!]
Later that evening, when we got home and decided to veg in front of the TV, I got out my trusty google maps and calculated our wanderings. According to my calculations, we walked at least 10K in well over 4 hours. Maybe not as impressive as the run, but I felt some kinship with those runners. And as I made my way up the stairs to our loft bedroom, I definitely felt like I had run a race.
Las Observaciones de los Dias:
- Portenos are really into their 80's Americana. We've been to an "American Diner" in Palermo SoHo with impeccable 50's era furnishings, serving somewhat American-style milkshakes and food, and projecting 80's music videos on the wall. Almost every cab ride has featured some hits from the 80's on the radio, and we wandered into an entire mall devoted to American skate punk style, with lots of shirts and gear featuring bands like the Ramones. We've even heard a nuevo-tango version of Blue Monday by New Order.
- I do not look at all like a Porteno. This was made abundantly clear by the 3-4 year old girl from another apartment in our building who stared wide-eyed at me as we were passing in the hall. Her dad had to chide her not to stare.
Friday, November 11, 2011
First Tango in Buenos Aires
Day 2:
After so much sleeping the previous day, we were able to get an early start on the day. Well, at least I was. I found myself awake at 7:30 and did some research for the day's activities. C managed to sleep most of the morning, and after a couple hours of web surfing about tango venues and tango shoes, I decided to get a few more winks. We woke up around 11am, and went out in search of breakfast. I think we hit La Biela at noon. La Biela is an institution. It's near the famous La Recoleta cemetary, and definitely in a heavily touristed area. However, we enjoyed sitting outside looking at a monstrously huge tree that appeared to be some type of avocado tree. This thing was so big, I think the canopy may have spanned 20 feet, and several large branches were resting on massive supports like the pilons you would see at a pier. I think the trunk was as big around as the biggest redwoods I've seen in California, and was interestingly gnarled. We forgot to take a picture before leaving, but we'll be back another time when we visit the cemetary.
This day was our designated "get to know Palermo" day. We set out after the cafe con leche and medialunas(croissants.) Those who know me well may wonder what I was doing with a cafe con leche - well, I was wishing that I could appreciate the coffee drinks because this town seems to have a lot of them, and better quality than the one variety of tea served everywhere. Sigh. C enjoyed his coffe, and we both loved the medialunas. Not exactly like the perfectly flakey pastries found in France, but these were good in their own right. Less flakey, less buttery, but with a thin glaze of either honey or sugar syrup that gave them just a hint of sweetness.
We decided to take the subway (called Subte) to Palermo, and walked from the Plaza Italia station up to the main shopping area. C was in love the moment we got off the subway (which, by the way, was packed beyond anything I've ever seen on a public transit system - sardines might even have more room in their traditional tins.) Lots of cool buildings, both older styles and more modern. And the streets are sized right. Jane Jacobs would approve of this city - it's very walkable, with abundant parks that function well as green spaces through which people are strolling at all times of the day, whether for pleasure, or to get to work/lunch/etc. Really functional, and breaking up the density with green spaces that provide some habitat for birds.
We grabbed lunch (a bit too much of it because the waitress thought we ordered two pizzas instead of one with the salad del dia) and then set out for the shopping. It became quickly apparent that Palermo Soho is the Hayes Valley of BA; it has great designer fashion at prices that almost equal what you'd spend in the trendy SF shopping district. Also, young hip women are not shaped like me, so most of the things I looked at didn't come in large enough sizes. Enough said. I picked up a few tops but mostly we just oogled without buying. C also came away with a nice shirt.
We grabbed a cab back home, took a quick nap, and started getting ready for the night out around 9pm. We decided to eat the extra pizza from our lunch mishap instead of trying to eat out again. And then we headed out to La Viruta, a tango practica with a lesson. It's a strange scene: you walk into the Armenian cultural center and go downstairs into the basement where there is a massive dance space surrounded by small tables with chairs. It's not an elegant ballroom like the Century Ballroom in Seattle, but it has a casual feel that was just right for getting into the Tango groove. We could not understand any of what the announcer was saying, but it seemed like they were dividing the group into four classes based on level. We chose the second level because they said something about ochos - I thought maybe it was if you already know how to do ochos and the basic, take this level. Turns out they were teaching ochos, and the level was probably not as advanced as we could have done. But I think that was also a good thing because without having much in the way of English instruction, we had to rely mostly on visual and what we already knew. We learned a fun little variation that is not a full ocho - more of a half ocho with a rock step in between.
As a former dance instructor, I found the format challenging, and really felt sorry for both students and teachers. They kept the music going continuously, and had four groups of students all on different areas of the dance floor. The teachers had to yell loud enough for their own group to hear, but had to compete with all the other noises in that vast room. Still, they managed to teach something, which I thought was impressive in its own right. However, this is not where I would go for any kind of serious lessons. This was more like the drop-in lessons before the dances we used to do. Necessary to give the newbies some tools to work with, but not a great atmosphere for learning anything substantial.
After the lesson, there was a little free dancing before the band. The band had a fun, dramatic entrance. Their claim to fame is that they include a tuba (I think it was called Tuba Tango) and we enjoyed the oompapa sound. Almost like mariachi music, but don't tell the Portenos I said that. They defintely had flair, and we had a good time dancing to most of their set. Somewhere midway through the night, I found myself looking at a table that seemed somehow connected to the band. The singer kept singing toward them. Suddently, I felt like I was in a movie - as we danced by, I gave a little gasp. Right at the end of the table was none other than Willem Dafoe! I couldn't believe it. As far as I know, he did not get up to dance. However, he stayed there watching the dance and conferring with the group around him even after the band left. We left shortly after the first set, so maybe the band came on again later. We're both stunned to have seen Mr. Dafoe, and can't help but wonder what brings him to Argentina. Is he shooting a movie? Is he, like Robert Duval, a secret fan of the Tango? This place was nice enough, but it wasn't a tango show, and it wasn't even a milonga. Were they scouting a location?
After so much sleeping the previous day, we were able to get an early start on the day. Well, at least I was. I found myself awake at 7:30 and did some research for the day's activities. C managed to sleep most of the morning, and after a couple hours of web surfing about tango venues and tango shoes, I decided to get a few more winks. We woke up around 11am, and went out in search of breakfast. I think we hit La Biela at noon. La Biela is an institution. It's near the famous La Recoleta cemetary, and definitely in a heavily touristed area. However, we enjoyed sitting outside looking at a monstrously huge tree that appeared to be some type of avocado tree. This thing was so big, I think the canopy may have spanned 20 feet, and several large branches were resting on massive supports like the pilons you would see at a pier. I think the trunk was as big around as the biggest redwoods I've seen in California, and was interestingly gnarled. We forgot to take a picture before leaving, but we'll be back another time when we visit the cemetary.
This day was our designated "get to know Palermo" day. We set out after the cafe con leche and medialunas(croissants.) Those who know me well may wonder what I was doing with a cafe con leche - well, I was wishing that I could appreciate the coffee drinks because this town seems to have a lot of them, and better quality than the one variety of tea served everywhere. Sigh. C enjoyed his coffe, and we both loved the medialunas. Not exactly like the perfectly flakey pastries found in France, but these were good in their own right. Less flakey, less buttery, but with a thin glaze of either honey or sugar syrup that gave them just a hint of sweetness.
We decided to take the subway (called Subte) to Palermo, and walked from the Plaza Italia station up to the main shopping area. C was in love the moment we got off the subway (which, by the way, was packed beyond anything I've ever seen on a public transit system - sardines might even have more room in their traditional tins.) Lots of cool buildings, both older styles and more modern. And the streets are sized right. Jane Jacobs would approve of this city - it's very walkable, with abundant parks that function well as green spaces through which people are strolling at all times of the day, whether for pleasure, or to get to work/lunch/etc. Really functional, and breaking up the density with green spaces that provide some habitat for birds.
We grabbed lunch (a bit too much of it because the waitress thought we ordered two pizzas instead of one with the salad del dia) and then set out for the shopping. It became quickly apparent that Palermo Soho is the Hayes Valley of BA; it has great designer fashion at prices that almost equal what you'd spend in the trendy SF shopping district. Also, young hip women are not shaped like me, so most of the things I looked at didn't come in large enough sizes. Enough said. I picked up a few tops but mostly we just oogled without buying. C also came away with a nice shirt.
We grabbed a cab back home, took a quick nap, and started getting ready for the night out around 9pm. We decided to eat the extra pizza from our lunch mishap instead of trying to eat out again. And then we headed out to La Viruta, a tango practica with a lesson. It's a strange scene: you walk into the Armenian cultural center and go downstairs into the basement where there is a massive dance space surrounded by small tables with chairs. It's not an elegant ballroom like the Century Ballroom in Seattle, but it has a casual feel that was just right for getting into the Tango groove. We could not understand any of what the announcer was saying, but it seemed like they were dividing the group into four classes based on level. We chose the second level because they said something about ochos - I thought maybe it was if you already know how to do ochos and the basic, take this level. Turns out they were teaching ochos, and the level was probably not as advanced as we could have done. But I think that was also a good thing because without having much in the way of English instruction, we had to rely mostly on visual and what we already knew. We learned a fun little variation that is not a full ocho - more of a half ocho with a rock step in between.
As a former dance instructor, I found the format challenging, and really felt sorry for both students and teachers. They kept the music going continuously, and had four groups of students all on different areas of the dance floor. The teachers had to yell loud enough for their own group to hear, but had to compete with all the other noises in that vast room. Still, they managed to teach something, which I thought was impressive in its own right. However, this is not where I would go for any kind of serious lessons. This was more like the drop-in lessons before the dances we used to do. Necessary to give the newbies some tools to work with, but not a great atmosphere for learning anything substantial.
After the lesson, there was a little free dancing before the band. The band had a fun, dramatic entrance. Their claim to fame is that they include a tuba (I think it was called Tuba Tango) and we enjoyed the oompapa sound. Almost like mariachi music, but don't tell the Portenos I said that. They defintely had flair, and we had a good time dancing to most of their set. Somewhere midway through the night, I found myself looking at a table that seemed somehow connected to the band. The singer kept singing toward them. Suddently, I felt like I was in a movie - as we danced by, I gave a little gasp. Right at the end of the table was none other than Willem Dafoe! I couldn't believe it. As far as I know, he did not get up to dance. However, he stayed there watching the dance and conferring with the group around him even after the band left. We left shortly after the first set, so maybe the band came on again later. We're both stunned to have seen Mr. Dafoe, and can't help but wonder what brings him to Argentina. Is he shooting a movie? Is he, like Robert Duval, a secret fan of the Tango? This place was nice enough, but it wasn't a tango show, and it wasn't even a milonga. Were they scouting a location?
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
And so it begins
Day 1: After an epic flight, we arrived exhausted. The air was surprisingly warm, and just a touch muggy. We hired a car service to take us to the apartment, and managed to fumble through some conversation with the driver who spoke only Spanish. One interisting thing we learned from the driver was that yesterday he had picked someone up from the very same apartment and taken him to the airport. I would say that was an amazing coincidence, but since I chose the remis company recomended by our rental agency I guess it's not that amazing.
We were met in the apartment by Tomás from the rental agency. He walked us through the apartment, which felt like it took a long time, but I'm sure it was only 20 min. We both needed to relieve ourselves and couldn't wait for him to leave. But leave he did, after showing us how to use the remote control for the TV, air conditioner, keys, etc, etc. 
By the way, speaking of keys, the set of keys for this apartment is old school. All different kinds of shapes and sizes - nothing like keys in the US. Tomás says most of the newer apartments have card keys, which would be more convenient, but I find these keys charming.
Once we were done with the apartment tour, we settled in for a nap. Actually, I connected to the wi fi and searched for a good, nearby lunch spot while C immediately fell asleep on the couch. After unpacking, I took a little nap myself, and we both got up around noon. That's 7 am west coast time, if you're wondering, and a perfect time to start the day. Still tired but feeling a bit better after a hot shower, we took off in search of food and a cell phone.
We did manage to find food at a mediocre cafe that seemed to specialize in german food (I had goulash and spaetzel.) We then wandered into a CarreFour (this is a french supermarket chain) to buy a few little snack items for the apartment, and when we finally purchased our items, we discovered the rain that had been threatening all afternoon had suddenly started. And it was dumping. Walking back to the apartment was a soggy affair, after which we promptly took another nap.
We got up in time for dinner (around 9pm) and headed over to one of the area's finest parillas. That's the traditional Argentine way of grilling meats. Simply seasoned with salt, and adorned with the famous chimichuri sauce, this stuff was amazing. I particularly liked the cut I ordered, which is called lomo. I'll have to look that up to see what it is. Really tender. Mmmmm. The restaurant had a live band, playing mostly Beatles tunes and soft rock from the 80s.
After dinner, we intended to head out and discover some night life, but found ourselves crawling back into bed. Ah well, there's always tomorrow.
Observaciones del dia:
- Stone pavers look great on the sidewalk, but are amazingly slippery when wet.
- Buenos Aires has an amazing bird population for being such a dense urban environment. Possibly because of all the courtyard gardens and tiny plazas. There seems to be a lot more green around here than in San Francisco, but that might just be based on the limited area I've seen so far.
- Stupid iPad won't let me embed photos in my blog posts, which means those of you reading this blog and hoping to see photos will be disappointed until I can find some other way. I really wanted to include photos in the blog, but may resort to picassa album or facebook. More research needed.
Once we were done with the apartment tour, we settled in for a nap. Actually, I connected to the wi fi and searched for a good, nearby lunch spot while C immediately fell asleep on the couch. After unpacking, I took a little nap myself, and we both got up around noon. That's 7 am west coast time, if you're wondering, and a perfect time to start the day. Still tired but feeling a bit better after a hot shower, we took off in search of food and a cell phone.
We did manage to find food at a mediocre cafe that seemed to specialize in german food (I had goulash and spaetzel.) We then wandered into a CarreFour (this is a french supermarket chain) to buy a few little snack items for the apartment, and when we finally purchased our items, we discovered the rain that had been threatening all afternoon had suddenly started. And it was dumping. Walking back to the apartment was a soggy affair, after which we promptly took another nap.
We got up in time for dinner (around 9pm) and headed over to one of the area's finest parillas. That's the traditional Argentine way of grilling meats. Simply seasoned with salt, and adorned with the famous chimichuri sauce, this stuff was amazing. I particularly liked the cut I ordered, which is called lomo. I'll have to look that up to see what it is. Really tender. Mmmmm. The restaurant had a live band, playing mostly Beatles tunes and soft rock from the 80s.
After dinner, we intended to head out and discover some night life, but found ourselves crawling back into bed. Ah well, there's always tomorrow.
Observaciones del dia:
- Stone pavers look great on the sidewalk, but are amazingly slippery when wet.
- Buenos Aires has an amazing bird population for being such a dense urban environment. Possibly because of all the courtyard gardens and tiny plazas. There seems to be a lot more green around here than in San Francisco, but that might just be based on the limited area I've seen so far.
- Stupid iPad won't let me embed photos in my blog posts, which means those of you reading this blog and hoping to see photos will be disappointed until I can find some other way. I really wanted to include photos in the blog, but may resort to picassa album or facebook. More research needed.
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