Football hooligans and Evita

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Buenos Aires - 17th to the 24th of June 2009

When I told my friend Mark that I was in Buenos Aires (BA), he quickly replied with a 'Oh my god, you´re in Evita land´. Having never seen either the movie or the musical versions of Evita and with a certain lack of knowledge about Argentinean history, I didn´t share his enthusiasm about all things Evita. But I was very excited about being in BA.

Everyone I´ve met who has been to BA has raved about it. It´s very European, it's full of people who have had plastic surgery and it´s a party city. But after La Paz, Richard and I are pretty much partied out. Although we had a couple of fun nights in the hostel bar, we couldn´t face paying 20 pounds to get into a nightclub so we never did discover the true extent of BA´s partying reputation. But I figure I´m going back to BA anyway in the next few years so I´ll see it then!

BA is massive and with its boulevards and landmarks, it appears to be a combination of Paris and Washington. The main street is lanes and lanes wide. When the lights go green for pedestrians, there is no chance of crossing it all in one go. Usually you get stuck somewhere in the middle and have to wait for the next turn or even the next!

Our first couple of days in BA were spent catching up on jobs - writing some blog entries, applying for jobs and doing laundry in my case while Richard read the sport news. Our hostel, Millhouse the second, was brand new and lovely. It was easily the nicest hostel we´ve stayed in on this trip, though they need a better kitchen. To save money, we cooked our dinner each night and ate cheap pizza slices and McFlurrys for lunch. Yum! We even found decent mince and had proper bolognese for the first time since we left home.

With our jobs completed, we set off exploring the city on Friday. After walking for a while, our first stop was La Boca, one of BA´s poorest neighbourhoods and home to Boca Juniors Football Club. We wanted to get tickets for the Boca match on Sunday but were told we weren´t able to buy them until 9am on Sunday. We went to the Boca Juniors museum and explored the stadium instead, though this was slightly wasted on me.

The next day the neighbourhood of Palermo was our destination. After taking the subway, we wandered the area for a while and with Mark´s passion for Evita in mind, the afternoon was spent in the Evita museum. There were many gaps in the information provided and it turned out to be a slightly confusing experience. I came away knowing wikipedia would have to be called upon to explain the Evita story. That evening was spend with a group of Irish and English people in the bar and a little worse for wear, Richard and I headed to bed around 2.30am. But not before I was told that the gang violence at Boca matches was very bad and that an innocent bystander had been shot the week before. There were rumours of even more violence at Sunday´s match. Of course, Richard had neglected to tell me any of this!

The following day, after a long lie-in, we went to La Boca in search of tickets. Because we were so late, we figured the ticket office would be closed so we bought some tickets from a lady on the street for their facevalue. Yes, I know this was stupid but we were hungover and didn´t really want to wander around La Boca for too long. I was absolutely scared, especially since all the shops were closed and police in riot gear were everywhere. After steak sandwiches we met two English guys we knew and we all went to check with the officials if our tickets were real. They had paid substantially more for theirs so they were anxious to check. After the officials had gently broken the news that the tickets were all fakes, our next stop was the main street in La Boca, a beautiful street full of colourfull buildings and tango shows, where the English guys knew some guy who might be able to get more tickets. He couldn´t but he said his boss could sneak us in. These guys were without a doubt hooligans but with no other options, we set off with the boss who was a massive man. Before we left, the guy quickly said to me, ´Don´t worry. You´re perfectly save, he´s killed ten people´. In BA´s most dangerous neighbourhood at night, with a man who killed ten people and was going to try sneak me into a stadium to see a team whose fans shoot each other, I felt anything but safe.

The next hour was one of the strangest of my life. We walked through the dark streets while the massive boss spoke regularly on his walkie-talkie to others. At a street corner, the boss dropped us off and another guy took over leading us. This continued a few more times and we really didn´t know what to think. Were they going to rob us? Kill us? Or sneak us into a football match?

In the end, after much walking and waiting, our guy successfully sneaked us into the match. Or maybe sneaked is an incorrect description. The hooligans obviously run a very professional operation, with many of them getting a cut in the profits, and they bribed various officials to let us in. We eventually went through the turnstiles two at a time and happily made our way to the very top of the middle of the main stand.

The stadium, though not full, looked amazing. There were giant flags, streamers and a band. Thousands of rolls of toilet paper were thrown by the fans towards the pitch, a crazy sight to see. And when the Boca team came out, the crowd through small pieces of paper in the air making it look like there was snow in BA. The fans didn´t stop singing and dancing for the whole match, so much so that their dancing shuck the whole stadium. The atmosphere was amazing to see! And when the teams scored, the cheers sounded like the one from the champions league advert. The fans had some device that let off smoke in the Boca’s colours and the whole stadium was blue and yellow. It was a lot of fun but sadly La Boca lost.

We were back to the more normal cultural stuff on Monday, spending the day wandering around the city centre including a visit to the Casa Rosada (the pink palace) where Evita addressed the thousands in the square who had come to see her.

Tuesday was our last full day in BA and was spent in Roceleta, where we explored the famous cemetery there. It´s a very strange place, almost like a miniature town. The graves aren´t graves, rather they are like small houses, often beautifully designed with statues and glass windows and doors. The coffins were usually visible and there were chairs in the tombs for the family to sit and, I guess, look at the coffin. It´s where the rich and famous of Argentina are buried so we happened upon Evita´s grave. That evening, we finished our visit in Buenos Aires with an evening at a tango show. I had imagined lots of tango dancing but this show was more of a play. It was fun though and the music was amazing.

After one last Millhouse breakfast, we got a taxi to the port where a ferry bound for Uruguay awaited us.

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