Buenos Aires: Mi ciudad es mejor que tu ciudad

Perhaps a slightly childish title...."my city is better than yours", but frankly (even Shirley and perhaps even Bruce Lee), anyone that lives in Buenos Aires could say that to 99% of the people currently living on the globe.

Of course Parisians, Londoners, New Yorkers, Barcelonians(yes I made that up) and denizens of other such excellent metropoli could give the Porteños a run for their money.  Even then that still leaves 6.8 billion people looking at their shoes and shrugging in the full knowledge that they're jealous of Porteños.

First morning in Palermo

Not, of course, that the average Porteño would bother to acknowledge this, because the average Porteño would be too busy railing against hyper-inflation.  Yup, for the last 12 months there have been riots and looting of supermarkets as Jose and Maria from down the road are driven to extreme measures to feed their children.  Jobs are at a premium and early morning rubbish collection involves cleaning up the mess made by citizens rifling through the leftovers of their luckier neighbours.

So what's the point of all this, you might ask?  Well I'm trying to get across a curious dichotomy that is playing out across the city everywhere you go.  Since the financial collapse in 2008, Argentina has struggled along and slowly but surely more and more of the population are getting left behind.

There are so many cool old cars...

....and some great "pimping" of crappy old ones!

Lots of graffiti in the city calling for "justice"

The developments we saw in Puerto Madero, though fine and futuristic, somehow had a soulless quality to them, in that you couldn't help feeling they were being built on shifting sands.  There's many a person that is predicting ill things later in the year and apparently some are even emigrating to Santiago in search of a financially safer life.

Can you imagine ANYTHING more terrible than leaving Buenos Aires for Santiago?  Well I for one cannot, having just been to both; which leads me to believe that in the words of Shakespeare "there's something rotten in Denmark".

On the flip-side, we're tourists and have foreign (or should I say "hard") currency to spend.  Yes indeed, if you have a dollar in your hand you have access to 4.5ish Argentinian Pesos.......orrrrrr....you have access to 9 Argentinian Black Market Pesos.  Weird?  Quite.  As a result of a massive clampdown on foreign currency access in 2012, Christina Kirchner has helped an already prevalent black market flourish.  So if you happen to be going to Argentina, don't bother with the bank machines that will give you an adverse rate and charge you 31 pesos for the privilege....go to a black market dealer.  We of course did no such thing and played it by the book, using bank machines the whole way :)

The view from our roof terrace

Would you expect our place NOT to have a mirror ball?

Our first experience with Argentina had been great.  Iguazu - I mean you can't really call it Argentinian, let's face it part of it is in Brazil and I think Mother Nature might argue that she got there first; but it was still a great experience.  A sight to see, so to speak.  Anyone that knows us both will know neither of us are great sightseers ......in fact one of the explicit agreements we had on the trip was that we wouldn't be traipsing round foreign cities looking at another statue of a liberator or palace or random building, just for the sake of it.  If we're on a city tour to learn something, or happen across the thing, then fine, but random shots of us standing outside the Palace of Justice just because it has a pretty facade....well that's not our bag.

Our bed on the roof :)

We wanted to live in Buenos Aires.  So we hired a flat.  We wanted to relax and enjoy our time there, so we got a comfortable one.....a VERY comfortable one.  In fact it was ridiculous.  Anywhere with 4 chaise longues and a huge couch in the living area is surely verging on the ridiculous?  A dinner table for 6, a lovely "bijou" kitchen (that's small to the non-estate-agents out there) and a small circular staircase up to our little glass box on the roof which held our bedroom....replete with ensuite master bathroom (incl. jacuzzi) and walk-in wardrobe.  Finally, as if all that wasn't fun enough, we had a huge and very well appointed roof terrace, a great place to grill and we were smack in the middle of Palermo, the best area to live in Buenos Aires.  All this for a fraction of the price of a hotel in the city!!!

Yup - for less than the price of a hotel room.  Ridiculous.  If you are going to BA then I definitely recommend checking this website out - Oasis Collections in Buenos Aires

and centre stage is the "Sheba Couch", Julia's favourite piece of furniture

Oh My God!
My mouth waters just writing this caption

Happy Armenian at Sarkis Restaurant

The first couple of days here we chilled out.  There was a tonne of washing to be done, miserable rainy weather outside and a lot of relaxing in our great new pad.  We went shopping, we made burgers on the grill, we mooched about the local area a bit and generally we missed all the sorts of touristy "devour BA with your eyes" things that some would say we should have done.

It was all going so well....

....then we started dancing....

Then along came Friday .....and with it a bit of an unexpected turn of events.  The company renting our place has a private member's club just up the road, kind of like Soho House.  There was the usual Friday party, so after a small dinner we popped in for a couple.  Unfortunately ordering a drink took the better part of 45 minutes, though it did give us time to meet some nice American students.  The place was after all packed with American students, so it would have been hard not to meet them!  Julia then turned to me and in one of those curious "Oh shit the night is about to go sideways" moments that our friends will know and love, said:

"Why don't we go to Voodoo Motel?"

...and mingling....

This was a place she had researched as being of the cooler, less touristy/foreign vibe, with the best electronic music in BA.  Now if you know me you know I shall not back down in the face of a request like that - so up we jumped, straight into a passing cab and made our way to this Voodoo Motel.  When we arrived a large group was walking in (probably on the guest list) so I made like we were part of them and the pair of us waltzed past security and straight into a large room....with a DJ at the end standing at some decks....and playing the most excellent set we have heard in a LONG while.

Julia was smiling like a Cheshire Cat and it wasn't long before she was sidling up to the dance floor in time with the beat, her little fists clenched happily as she moved along to the music.  I was on drinks duty at first - though that changed quickly - barmen like her more than me and a vodka and tonic is that much stronger when she orders it :)

....and talking to DJs....

The strangest thing happened then....we realised our DJ was a South American Jimmy Buchanan!!!  Who would have thought?!  Anyway, we met a few of the locals, danced a way for a few hours then Julia met a group heading off to one of BA's famous clubs - The Crobar.  So we jumped in the car with them, graciously declined the marijuana they passed us and held on whilst our driver raced to the club as fast as he could.

....don't let the smile fool you...

Good God......imagine a club the size of a large shopping mall, packed so tight with drunken and drugged up South Americans that you literally have to push and shove your way through to wherever you want to go.  The music was.....terrible.  So we left pretty sharpish and lucked out with our cabbie, who was a lovely old guy that took us straight home with no problems or jiggery pokery!  Excellent.

....she'll be broken in the morning!

Being drunk, I did what all good men that are drunk do when they get home.  I made food.  A wonderful fried blood sausage sandwich.  Mmmmmmmm hmmmmmmm that was good.  Julia went straight to bed and fell straight into a very drunken coma.  Oh dear.  Tomorrow was going to be tough for our little angel!

Dammit!  My mouth just started watering again :)

Don't talk to me, I'm busy

Rooftop breakfast in blazing sunshine...

...probably not what Julia needed!

And so it came to pass that we awoke; me fresh as a daisy and Julia....well......not so much.  Broken is the word I would use.  I won't dwell on her physical or psychological state, there is no need.  We gradually re-grouped, had a lovely breakfast in the sunshine on the roof and pushed on, taking Julia's state as a cue to do something relaxing, like sit on an open-topped bus tour of Buenos Aires.  This was a good choice, though I have a feeling lying in bed would have made her happier!

I wonder if she's singing..."Legalise it"?

At one point in the tour we got stuck inside a massive (tens of thousands of people) demonstration for the legalisation of marijuana...how ironic.



Reactions to the busload of tourists varied, from the students with their joints that waved up and smiled, to the Communists and their sincere flags and slogans who shouted up and flipped we Capitalist bourgeois tourist swine the bird.

Great shop

Old men and their carriages

Beautiful Sunday morning in Palermo

Sunset on Fotbol

A few hours later, in the dark, we decanted the bus pretty bloody cold and went home to a warm and inviting flat and a recovery process for our Julia :)  Tomorrow was a big day - the Superclassico of Boca Juniors vs Rio Plate at the Bombonera!

A great moment....getting the tickets

To the non-footbal fans out there this is probably one of the most passionately contested local derbies in the world.  There are of course other big derbies (United vs Liverpool/City, Real vs Barca...though that's not particularly local. Inter vs AC, Roma vs Lazio and Arsenal vs Tottenham) but this particular one has the added spice of a bunch of locals fans that are ludicrously energetic in their support.  Violence, street wars, fireworks and flares, pitch invasions, fights between players and opposition staff, even the refs get involved in the punch-ups at times.  It is, without doubt, one of the top matches in the world and we were going.  "Excited" would be an understatement to describe how we felt about attending.  "Privileged" would be a good word.

What a buzz it was having this photo taken

Apparently throwing paper is de rigeur at a match out here

 We joined part of our group outside a hostel in Palermo and met a lovely couple from Canada/Sydney, who are now living in the UK, Georgina and Jordan.  After a couple of cans of beer, we picked up the rest of the group and headed off to the ground.  As we approached on foot, the noise from inside the ground made our hairs stand up and gave us goose-bumps.

Walking through the security check-points, seeing the fans moving forward into the stadium, the sun and the noise, the smells of the cooking and the tv crews, it all mixed together.  This was just as much of a cultural experience as anything else Buenos Aires and Argentina has to offer!

Random bloke on rooftop waving Boca flag

The match was.....meh!  Argentina has set up the league to run twice per year, with the first league finishing in time for the European transfer market in December/January and the second in time for the close of the European season.  This dictates the quality on display IN Argentina, as the teams are basically feeder clubs for the teams of Europe.  There was no lacking of intensity though and the crowd were immense.  The Boca fans (we were with them behind one of the goals) were stunned early on (about the 2nd minute) when Rio scored.....oh dear.  Cue scenes of mayhem and jubilation on the other side of the stadium as the fans in red and white went nuts.  The next 40 odd minutes were quiet-ish from the Boca fans as their team gradually got back into the game.

The videos we have of the mayhem are ...well.....lunacy

Then, early in the second half, their rather tall and portly number 9 equalised with a shinned finish that found its way into the net and we had an explosion of noise and flares and all sorts of singing and hand waving.  None of the songs are repeatable or lacking in expletives!

 

At about 55 minutes the game stopped for the fans to go nuts again.  No particular reason.....just a seemingly organised and well-timed explosion of flares, fireworks, coloured smoke bombs (blue and yellow of course), people climbing the crowd control barriers, bands playing South American songs....it was like all the parties in the world had been invited to the stadium!  This went on for about 10 minutes, at which point again, it seemed that everyone agreed it was time to move on and continue the game.

If you WILL start a fire, they WILL hose you down

No those aren't Nazi salutes!

Almost immediately the opposition coach was sent off for something or other.  Out came the protective tunnel and the riot police to escort him down into the changing rooms.  Out came the jeers, whistles and hand-waving as the Boca fans cheered his exit.

He's gone now, but Fergie would have LOVED to have this many minutes added to the clock

Probably safe to leave now!

In the end the clock stopped counting time in the second half at 55 minutes played......clearly it could go no further.  The game could and it did.  Not really sure how much time was played, but nothing of note happened and once the final whistle went we faced an hour or so wait until the opposition fans cleared the stadium and we were allowed home.








That evening we went for steaks with our new friends and it must be said that it was a disappointing affair, with us sending back the steaks the first time as they were overcooked.  We made up for it though, polishing off 3 bottles of wine before taking a 4th up to the roof terrace of our flat and continuing until 2am.

Cue hangover number 2.  Julia woke up again a little worse for wear and so we elected to take it easy and wander around the area, making a pilgrimage up to a "local" butchers.......if local means 3km away.  By the time we returned to the flat at 4pm we had half an hour before Georgina and Jordan would arrive and we passed out.  That evening we had some really good food and company in our flat and it truly felt great to be able to "host" people again.....something we've missed since we left Foley Street :)

Meat Heaven....mmmmmmmmmmmmm

Followed by Chocolate Milkshake Heaven

It was our last evening, so we had to pack up our bags and get to bed fairly early as we had a 5am cab ride to the airport.  In a final happy chapter to our time in Buenos Aires, the cab I booked via the internet turned up on time, got us to the airport with time to spare and we were sat in the LAN lounge, relaxing and looking forward to our next adventure in Peru.

Our final grill...the steaks were amazing

Every self-respecting Armenian knows how to kick-start the grill.....with a hair-dryer

Jordan becomes...

....Diego Armando de Greaser

Jordan and Georgina

Maybe it says something about how much of a football fan I (we?) am, but we came to the home of tango and didn't see a show or go to a Milonga......instead we went to one of the greatest games on the planet.

To anyone that hasn't been to Buenos Aires, cancel any trips to New York or other North American cities and go, go now.  People will say that a trip to New York is worth it for the shopping and the money you save.....but the shopping is better in Buenos Aires and there is more money to be saved.

In the words of Arnie:  Buenos Aires, we WILL be back.

Don't ask