Buenos Aires cafes

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Good enough to eat Somewhere, buried in a whirlwind fortnight of fruitless trips to Migraciones, buggered laptop hard drives and testing nicotine withdrawals, was a perfect Sunday: Me and C. keen to hit the streets; beautiful late summer Buenos Aires; the recommendations of a friend who at that point, I hadn’t actually met. Other people’s favourite places are always music to my ears, and especially when they converge with budding ideas or desires of my own. Sometimes I’ve been meaning to do something or go somewhere for ages (let’s call it X) and then finally a mate saying, Hey have you tried X yet? pushes me the last inch and I get walking.

I’ve ridden past Parque (Park) Lezama loads of times on the way to and from one of my favourite viewpoints in Buenos Aires: the La Boca rooftop of Museo de Bellas Artes de La Boca Benito Quinquela Martín – just as an aside, if you visit La Boca, this art gallery and the views from its sculpture terraces are an absolute must. Anyway if you take the 64 or the 152 to get there, you will skirt around the bottom of the Parque as you turn in or out of the ‘gateway’ to La Boca, which is marked by a border of faded corrugated metal facades, fake windows and charicature-manikins  mimicking the houses of Caminito. When you see that landmark, and the foot of a hill like park opposite, get off the bus. If it’s the weekend there’ll be a straggle of market stalls winding their way around and disappearing up under the trees: an extra bonus if you like bargain hunting, as I do.

As it turns out this park offers a few treats. For starters the gorgeous Art Nouveau cookie factory in the photo can be seen across the street: the biscuit colour of the walls made me hungry. Next, the park’s design offers tree covered strolls; glimpses of Roman style statues, urns and follies; a gentle climb towards the terracotta and white house which sits at the top of the hill, and which is home to the free to enter National History Museum (worth a look for the building’s interior and some well selected exhibits, plus it will be expanding soon to include a café). On our wander uphill we managed to encounter a huge slice of homemade pizza with a delicious crust ($4pesos a piece and one was big enough for two), buy a military button for the jeans a dear friend gifted me recently – perfect fit but missing a fastener, and splash out on a second hand hippy chic shirt… oh gosh, like I said I can’t resist local markets!

By the time we made  it to the top of the park and the corner of Defensa and Brasil, I realised that I was almost in Plaza Dorrego, San Telmo, on a Sunday, and thus just a couple of blocks from the crowds. The peace of Parque Lezama however, gave no hint of that crush just up the road, and brought home to me how few tourists ever walk even a few blocks off the most beaten tracks. I was glad that on the border of La Boca and San Telmo, I finally had.

‘En la esquina de Defensa y Brasil’, Bar Britanico (well I had to pop in there didn’t I?) served us great coffee in traditional  surroundings for a surprisingly low price. As we sipped our ‘dos cortados en jarrito’, it dawned on us we’d already been in there once before, on a winter’s dawn many moons ago, after spilling out of Parakultural at Peru 571 one Saturday – this is a cool 24/7 café that never closes its doors. Way back in those mists of my early days in Buenos Aires, as we waited for the bus after a 5am breakfast, it seemed to me that we stood in the middle of absolutely nowhere and definitely in a dodgy district. This time I knew where I was, noticed the stunning Italian style balcony next to the Art Deco apartment block opposite, spotted Torcato Tasso a stone’s throw away, couldn’t believe I hadn’t shared this particular corner of the city with my parents – next time for sure.

We checked our map, and I calculated that we were probably only half an hour’s walk from Barracas and the artistic haven that is Calle Lanín. So, fired up with enthusiasm for demonstrating my expert knowledge of Buenos Aires attractions, I dragged C. off up Avenida Caseros towards the tiny street Lanín. There he enthused about the ceramic art in a way that perhaps only plumbers who have seen the inside of far too many badly tiled bathrooms can, and promised me that he’d be knocking up something Calle Lanín style on our balcony pronto. I meanwhile, marvelled at the stillness of the place, and found myself wondering how many visitors to Buenos Aires just don’t bother or don’t know to make it to Barracas and this stunning pint-sized street with soul. Please promise me you’ll try.

We finished our afternoon and ourselves off by marching through back streets to Constitución Station (probably only wise in broad daylight, with a degree of purpose in your stride), where I snapped a few pics of the vast arches that remind me of the glory days of British Rail. Got to say that flashing big cameras (mine’s teeny tiny) might not be too smart in Constitución… just be aware and be discreet eh?

As we wound our way home towards Palermo on the Blue Subte Line C, and the Green Subte Line D my feet were throbbing, but I was chattering like a child about the treasures that had made up our perfect day. Whatever gave you the idea and the energy to do all that? said C. I didn’t even know you’d heard of Parque Lezama!

Well, I began, I confess I can’t take all the credit… and out of my bag I pulled the printed pages of the e-book I’d downloaded from the internet just a few days before:

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Really, this neat little e-book by Jeff Barry at SoroDesign is exactly my kind of thing because it actually does enable you to create your own perfect days or half days in Buenos Aires: Jeff sends you off to an area of the city and then helps you discover it as you walk… architecture, landmarks, museums, cafés, parks, galleries. To create our perfect Sunday I picked just one of the book’s San Telmo starting points: Parque Lezama, made sure I found and tried all Jeff’s tips for the locality, and went home with a big smile on my face. OK, I admit I’ve got a bit of local knowledge and so I was able to add in Calle Lanín, but in the day I’ve described to you, straight out of Jeff’s e-book came Parque Lezama, the cookie factory, The National Museum, Bar Britanico, and Avenida Caseros. Not bad for a couple of small paragraphs of a guide book in my opinion. Plus, another section tipped me off to check out the architecture of Constitución Station. I’m glad I did.

The title might mention four perfect days, but actually there’s probably enough treats in its well organised and illustrated pages to keep you busy in Buenos Aires for a whole lot longer.

Having tried it out for myself, I think the book offers a good selection of the more well known and the less discovered. Yes, Jeff leaves out a few of my personal favourites, but instead he includes places that I have yet to explore, and for me that is a RESULT! What use is a guide book that only tells me what I already know? Even after two years here, I can learn from Jeff’s super suggestions. If you’ve never been to Buenos Aires, then I think he will get you off to a great start. I think the e-book’s got a cool price tag too: at only USD$8.95, it probably isn’t going to break your bank.

Best part for me is that if you buy the e-book, and you do it via Sallycat’s Adventures, then Jeff has agreed to give me a little bonus, out of his profits, for the sale. Thus over time we can all win: you can follow in my footsteps and enjoy your own perfect days in Buenos Aires, I can treat myself to a few licuados, and Jeff sells his book: win, win, win! Perfecto.

So how can you get your hands on this little gem? Well, just click any of the photo links on my blog (more will appear soon) including the one above in this post. Or, use this link instead:

Click here to visit the SoroDesign Buenos Aires website and buy Jeff’s e-book!

Meanwhile, if you’re wishing you’d been with Me and C. on our perfect Sunday, why not head over to my One Perfect Sunday Flickr Photo Set where you can slideshow the gorgeous photos we took as we explored.

Sometimes, however well we think we know a place, it can be the fresh perspective of another soul that adds the possibility of new layers of discovery. If, on the other hand, we’re a first time visitor, aren’t we always after the inside track? If you like what you see in my photos, why not give Jeff’s ideas a try and treat yourself to the prospect of  ‘4 (or more) Perfect Days in Buenos Aires.’

Here’s to exploring and adventuring with a little help from our friends. Enjoy!

 

After the fact, one of you sent me the link to this all the way from Milan, and because I love the BBC and David Bowie’s voice and the brilliant use of this tune in Trainspotting I’m adding it to this post. Here’s to every day being a perfect one. We have it in our power to make it so!

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Grateful for a good breakfastIt’s been one of those weeks.

My cold came and went; I remained upbeat. Despite all your amazing Love is a Verb action and particularly that of dear Tangobaby in San Francisco who called upon all her readers and her mum to vote, Sallycat’s Adventures was pipped to the Central and South America post by a great city blog written by Stuart in Peru; I remained upbeat. I proved that I am still in the infant class when it comes to managing blog software – this blog turned from pink to blue for 48 hours and I didn’t even realise because my internet browser hid the reality from me; I remained upbeat.

Then I went to Migraciones to try to renew my temporary residency visa.

I’ve been twice before to Avenida Antartida Argentina 1355 in Retiro. On those occasions I was renewing tourist visas. Both went fairly smoothly. Yes the place was busy, but I breezed in, found the required section, found a seat easily, waited my turn and got processed pretty efficiently. This week, at around 8.30am as Me and C. walked across the abandoned railway lines and the building came into view, so did several hundred people. They were standing in a queue in the street. Things have changed a bit since my last visit.

I joined the line and C. enquired of the uniformed security guards… All types of trámite, in the one queue. Most people waiting for an appointment number. Your trámite doesn’t need one so, come back at 12 midday when there are no more numbers available, the queue will go home and you can go inside. We retired to Retiro station and the café El Retiro with its exquisite high ceilings and marble columns, ate medialunas, drank coffee, read the papers and killed several hours in beautiful surroundings. I felt grateful.

At 11.45 we were back at Building 4. As we stood outside a woman appeared, and told the queue ‘No more appointment numbers today.’ I watched the news filter down the line. What must it be like to wait in a queue from 6 in the morning and not get an appointment turn? The people who had queued all night (in a less than safe spot, possibly with all their valuable personal documents on them) got in. The people who arrived at 5am got in too but those arriving much later than that weren’t so fortunate. I was. As promised my visa renewal didn’t require an appointment number and so I was allowed inside. I felt grateful.

I don’t think it would have been possible to cram many more people into Building 4. There were full seats, queues and small crowds everywhere. I managed to get to the front of a line and obtain a number from the machine in the entrance to the large room on the left where visa renewals take place. Incredibly there were only 14 numbers to wait for my turn. We waited. I had a long conversation with a woman originally from the Far East, applying for permanent residency. She had arrived at 5am. She told me about the overnight camp outs in the street. I felt grateful.

Finally no 39 was called and it was me. Unfortunately within about two minutes I discovered that I didn’t have the right papers. Plus I found out that the papers that I can get will probably only enable me to extend the visa for a shorter period than I had originally understood when I applied for it in London. After that, I could lose the visa altogether if circumstances conspire against me in the UK – a possibility of course in the current economic climate. It’s complicated and I don’t need to go into it here, but either I misunderstood the visa requirements, or Argentina in London has a different set of rules to Argentina, or things have changed. For sure I have more work to do, and fast… and it’s really mostly my fault for not checking things out more carefully, sooner. Lesson: when it comes to long term visa renovation, start before you think you need to.

It cannot be easy for the workforce in Migraciones. I can’t imagine being faced with crowds like that day in day out: dealing with endless streams of folk whose dreams toss and turn in your yeses and nos; trying to find a smile when faced with yet another poorly-informed person who doesn’t have the right papers; I found it hard to smile too. I left the desk with my hopes trailing slightly tattered and bruised behind me. I was quiet, not even mildly hysterical in the street outside as I might once have been. I chose this path and I have to accept the rocks. Plus I’m sure that the UK probably doesn’t treat its would be immigrants like princesses either. Even so, on occasions like these, it doesn’t feel good in the moment. On the train back from Retiro I saw myself like a feather in a breeze, landing for a moment and then blown away again… neither here nor there.

Back home in the mid afternoon C. made me camomile tea. I called my mum to get a hug made of loving words. A couple of friends suggested possible ways forward. One of them said, At least your life isn’t boring. You’re living an adventure, not stuck in a rut. Often my feather in the breeze is floating in beautiful spaces it is true. In Retiro, the café with its perfect coffee and medialunas, its freshly squeezed orange juice and Carlos pulling faces at me to make me smile… well, that was a joy.

Oh hell, there’s always something to be grateful for isn’t there?

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El Retiro Resto – Pizza is next door to Café Retiro inside Retiro mainline Station. Both have gorgeous architecture and reasonable prices.

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DSCF1863 What do you do in an average week? Here in Buenos Aires, my average weeks are rather peaceful. I take three tango classes with Ariel (one hour each), maybe go out dancing with Carlos three or four nights, go to one afternoon Milonga ’sola’ and maybe have a long day out at the weekend, or a few walks in the park… Life is tranquil: plenty of time for ‘cafe con leche’ and medialunas on street corners, plenty of time for Carlos to cook me yummy dinners, plenty of time to watch rented movies on my laptop in the dark (the latest was Infame and I loved it). But the last two weeks have no way been average. No way.

I’ve been playing tour guide. I’m showing off my new home city to my visiting friends and although I am exhausted as a result, I’m discovering why I love this place so much, all over again. I feel like I can give my friends the perfect gift day after day, but it costs me nothing, other than time and energy. But that I do have. And so I give it. In return, not only to I get to enjoy their company, but I get a shot of love in my arm for my life… the perfect present for me too.

So what have we been up to? Maybe you’ll want to try these experiences when you get to Buenos Aires, if I whet your appetite a little. Here are five of the things we’ve done that you could try:

  • Betting with the locals at the Argentine equivalent of the UK Derby.  The ‘caballos’  (horses) were beautiful, the jockeys were tiny, and we lost every peso we staked. But the Hipodromo Palermo was a stunning place to spend an afternoon. The blue and white balloons and flowers reminded me that I live in Argentina, and to hear the Argentines softly singing their national anthem before the big race: a privilege.
  • Tapping our feet to Otros Aires electronic Milonga Sentimental as they made a little piece of their own history: the group played in an Argentine theatre for the first time, in honour of launching their latest disc and before commencing their latest European Tour. Before now, although they have played in theatres around the world, in Buenos Aires they have only ever performed in the Milongas. Their lead singer announced this fact proudly, thanked the audience for sharing the experience and took videos of us waving back at him.
  • Eating ‘choripan’ (Argentine sausage sandwiches), ‘locro’ (bean and pig stew… well there was a pig’s trotter in it) and ‘chico guaya’ (a delicious cake of maize, sweetcorn, onion and cheese) in the packed square of the Feria de Mataderos. That was before watching the gauchos ride their horses at high speed down the street in their attempts to capture on a small stick, the tiny silver ring hanging high above their heads. And it was after buying trousers perfect for tango and yoga: the stall holder proudly demonstrated how the wrap around design could be worn in five different ways, and at only $15 pesos a pair they were the best bargain I have found since I got here. Going back on Sunday to buy up the stall…
  • Sinking into the velvet sofas in Comme il Faut. My mission was to choose a pair of their divine tango shoes for a tanguera in England and to advise my visiting friends. For about 30 minutes I stayed focused and successfully chose  the perfect pair for my English tanguera. I gave my opinions to my friends. They deliberated over their choices. I had time on my hands. Fatal. My eyes started wandering, rifling through the open boxes surrounding other women’s feet. Doubly fatal. How did I manage to leave the shop with a pair of metallic pink and acid yellow tango shoes, ‘for summer’? All too easily, girls. All too easily.
  • Sharing coffee and cakes and all sorts of other wicked food delights, with some much loved fellow writers, in the majestic surroundings of Las Violetas. While we were there, there was a crazy woman in an orange sweater, who looked like she was bursting with happiness, posing for photos on the balcony. Unbelievably I think it was me.

And I have not mentioned any of the Milongas with their live orchestras, any of the walks, any of the tango classes, any of the meals out, any of the sightseeing bus rides… We have packed our hours with activity and dancing. I have done things I might have done alone but also some things that I wouldn’t have done without my friends here. And at last I have relaxed. I have found out that I can enjoy the experience of sharing. I wrote some time ago that I was anxious about the arrival of the English, and how it might affect the status quo of my new life. Now I am in a position to look back and reflect on this part of my journey. I would be lying if I said it had been plain sailing. No it has not. Rather, I have been through a process:

Fear: that the arrival of people from my previous life would have a negative impact on my new one, upset Carlos, upset me, encourage my old behaviours to return, unsettle me in my quest to follow my dreams.

Anger (I am ashamed to say): that I have had to share my new life at all. At times I have wanted to keep it for myself.

Effort: when I have not felt like sharing, I have shared anyway and I have tried to do it with good grace and a smile. I have kept some time for myself, and some other time for Carlos and me, but I have tried to give other times and my experience, freely and with an open heart.

Learning: that it is impossible to leave a past life behind because the world is small; that I need to find a way to be comfortable with myself wherever I am and whoever is with me; that sharing my life doesn’t have to take anything away from me and my dreams, because my dreams are strong enough to sparkle, no matter what; that I can draw on the delight of others who share in my new way of life and so increase my own gratitude for it, and my determination to continue it; that to give really can be to receive.

A few days ago, we sat in La Ideal, after dancing with the immaculately turned out gentlemen who are always so delightful to me on a Monday afternoon. My girlfriend from England turned to me and said with excitement, ‘Oh Sal, this is so beautiful. It is exactly like I thought it would be. I am so happy to be here.’ I felt delight and pride that at least in part I am the reason that she came here at all at this point in time. In being open hearted and welcoming, I helped create this happy situation. I was smiling. And in that moment I remembered -  it hit me again, how very lucky I am. She is returning to England on Tuesday with her memories of this city. Me on the other hand… well, this is my dream, my new life, and it goes on. By sharing I have lost nothing, but I appreciate what I have far, far more.

See pictures of a ‘not quite the average’ life

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