Jason and I have long shared a passion for traveling. Having young children does not make this an easy hobby to pursue; they are too young for us to leave for extended periods and too young to join us on our trips. Other than a beach vacation, we have not been out of the country since Sarah's birth. Now that she has reached 2 1/2 and with grandparents willing to care for both kids, we took off for South America!
Buenos dias, Buenos Aires! After a long, overnight flight squished in the middle of the middle row of the plane (the price of an almost free ticket), we arrived in Buenos Aires and our historic hotel, Palacio Duhau.
Situated next door to the Vatican Embassy in the heart of Recoleta, it is a pretty swank location considering the current Pope is from Argentina!
Beautiful, ornate finishes inside the breakfast and tea rooms
including this little contraption to hold purses and bags!
The garden and back of the hotel
Off to find some lunch and explore, we stumbled by a dance studio with energy and pop music pouring into the alley.
Fortified by the first of many cortados, we found the energy to take on the city. Buenos Aires is anchored by 9 de Julio Avenue, the largest boulevard in the world and full of traffic!
Our tour of the city started at the Plaza de Mayo,
which contains everything from the federal bank to the national cathedral
and is the center of political protests.
These pictures painted on the plaza represent the shawls of the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo, who protested to bring attention to their children, "the Disappeared", who were detained, tortured and murdered by the military regime during the 1970s.
Casa Rosada
House of Government
Evita Balcony
"Don't cry for me, Argentina!"
Street Life
La Recoleta Cemetery,
final resting place of Argentinian notables and home to a wonderful collection of cats!
Evita's grave is now located at Recoleta Cemetery following a bizarre journey. Her body was stolen after her death, sent to Italy and buried with a false name, then returned to Argentina and hidden in various spots around the country before finally being buried under a layer of steel and concrete so it could not be stolen again. Every person who saw our tour guide stopped to ask for directions to her mausoleum. His advice: follow the crowds.
We were escorted to dinner in Puerto Madero that "evening" (our reservation was at 10:30 pm) by Jason's business associate and his wife. They were fascinating company - his father was an Argentinian diplomat so he was raised all over Europe and she was originally from Spain. They both obtained graduate degrees at Harvard and speak five languages. We felt slightly inadequate, but were eager to hear about their family life in the city, including the hilarious stories about their teenage daughters who attend parties on school nights that last from 2 am to 6 am, go home and sleep for an hour, then go to school. They invited us to visit their ranch on our next visit to Argentina!
The dinner marked our introduction to the excessive consumption of beef and wine in Argentinian cuisine! And also to the wonderful grilled cheese dish, proveleto, and chippa, a cheese biscuit. Max would approve!
The river was lovely despite the brown color. Every local we encountered assured us the color was due to the heavy sediment, NOT pollution.
We stopped at the colorful San Telmo area for brunch with musical entertainment. The waiters were fascinated when we did not initially order wine for lunch. You are awake, why wouldn't you be drinking?
On to the market!
It had everything from tango dancers
to china
to the kitchen sink...or at least the faucets!
Any culture that paints black cats on their buildings must be great!
Since this year marked our 10th anniversary, it was appropriate that our travels brought us to Argentina. Jason and I danced a tango for our wedding dance and we were eager to see how our moves compared to those of the experts! The Rojo Tango show was very red: red room, red lights, red decorations, and red costumes.
The show was exactly like our wedding dance. Except for the nudity. And the screechy rendition of "Roxanne" at the end. And the dancers were slightly more skilled than us!
Off to explore the city!
In Buenos Aires, Italian food is almost as Argentinian as gauchos and parrillas due to the large influx of Italian immigrants. Can anyone eat fusilli without thinking of Fusilli Jerry?
With all the coups in their history, it was probably easier to name the streets something vague like "Avenida del Libertador" instead of having to change the signs repeatedly.
ONLY ride in "Radio Taxis"!
Who knew our friend Cat Stevens was so popular in South America?
Lots and lots of dog walkers on the street
We found some peace and tranquility in the middle of the city at the Japanese Gardens
Gardens are for lovers
Rounding out our day of Italian food: Gelato!
Hmmm....
For our final evening we went to the home of an Argentinian chef for a cooking lesson! He lives in a renovated house in the Palermo district that is approximately the same age as our house. As with many locals we encountered, he has a diverse heritage. Born in England, raised in Italy and Spain, lived in Africa with his American wife, and now they are settled in Argentina.
The appetizers were prepared for us
but the rest of the meal was up to us!
Demonstrating the appropriate technique
Chef Daniel
The BBQ in the courtyard was original to the house.
Nothing like a huge slab of meat. Argentina is not for vegetarians.
Making empanadas
"If it tastes good and you like it, then it is done."
Our 7 hour dinner stretched late into the night as more and more wine was consumed. I had to drag Jason away at 2 am because otherwise we would have ended up spending the night at their home.
Max and Sarah would have loved the digger and plane combination at the airport while we waited for our flight to Mendoza.
Hello and Goodbye, Buenos Aires!
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