Three months we spent here. Three months of sweltering in 35+ heat, crazy currency, and trying to get along in Spanish. Three months of tango, music, medialunas, street-art, football, wild-west bus rides, street-markets, drinking mate, eye-popping architecture – both new and old, atmospheric cafes, dog-walkers and fabulous ice-cream. We made friends with tango dancers, discovered we didn’t turn into pumpkins if we stayed up past … Continue reading Goodbye Buenos Aires.
I had to have a go. I know I have two left feet, but they itched to try. Friends who tango in Amsterdam told me ‘It’s just walking’. Mmm. I got a recommendation and went to Cynthia’s San Telmo apartment that first Monday morning with a mixture of nerves and excitement. We got down to it straight away. ‘Don’t bob up and down and keep … Continue reading Tango. Lessons.
Buenos Aires never fails to surprise. It’s so diverse. ‘On’ from early morning to late at night, our days were intense and jam-packed. This is the story of one day in BA. One day we went for lunch in a palace. A smiling young woman greeted us at wrought iron gates. ‘Would you like to go to the second floor, or the garden?’, she asked. … Continue reading One Day in Buenos Aires.
The most famous Notable of all is Cafe Tortoni. (It’s the fourth most visited site in Buenos Aires). My inclination nowadays is to ignore those ‘must see’ places. We’d read about the queue to get in and thought ‘why bother?’. But something niggled. Fear of missing out, I guess. So, not expecting much, but feeling we should, one morning we went and stood in line. … Continue reading The Grand Notables of Buenos Aries.
We knew nothing about tango but we knew they were good. Show-stopping. Eye-catching. Some say the professional flashy tango is not the real tango, nothing more than a choreographed show for tourists. But their dance had a calmness at its core, a grace, and a subtlety mixed with the lifts, kicks and spins – the flash of an eye, the tilt of a finger, a … Continue reading The Faves.
We avoided La Boca for a long time. I love colour, but the idea of tacky, touristy El Caminito, the little street with painted houses, left me cold. But then I heard about Benito Quinquela Martin. Martin and La Boca are intertwined. In 1890 he was left, wrapped in a cloak, at the door of the Sisters of Charity. Written in pencil, on a silk … Continue reading La Boca.
Streets go on forever in Buenos Aries; at several kilometers long, we realised they must go through various incarnations before merging with another and becoming something else entirely. One day, just for fun, we set out to walk the length of Lavalle to spot it’s changes. These are our best days, meandering, pootling, – with no particular place to go. Who doesn’t love a good … Continue reading Lavalle.
I asked the magician next door if he tangoed. ‘Not really’ he replied, but he did say there was a practica* a few meters from our front door every Thursday evening. ‘Can anyone go?’, I asked, ‘just to watch?’ ‘Sure’, he nodded. So exactly a week after Marabu, we presented ourselves at the Club General Belgrano at Cochabamba 444. The door was wide open and … Continue reading Tango – an embrace.
Half way through our stay, we wanted to ditch the guidebook and do our own thing. The barrio of Barracas isn’t mentioned in the Lonely Planet – isn’t on the tourist radar at all, as far as I can tell, which seemed good enough reason to go for a walk there and to go with the flow. Once a wealthy barrio, Barracas was hit by … Continue reading Barracas.
My sister once said to me that Ricky Martin was sex on legs. I think tango is sex on four legs. Smouldering. Sensual. Sophisticated. Sex with a capital S. Our first milonga was at Salon Marabu. ‘Oh, that’s a bit,’ … said Cynthia, as she held her nose in the air. We didn’t know it then, but it was. Women dressed to the nines. Killer … Continue reading Tango: Sex with a capital ‘S’.
Wondering Woman 