Buenos Aires the sequel

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After the long bus journey we caught up on some rest and spent our first day back catching up on Laundry and of course, this blog. Now that we were this time staying in Palermo and not San Telmo, in the evening we decided to visit one of many highly praised restaurants in the area and plumped for Desde El Elma (from the soul), an intimate restaurant converted by the owner Alberto Vermi from his own house. The restaurant inside was fabulously decorated with glass ceiling and a beautifully lit tree which ran from inside to out. The Patagonian lamb was divine and the little touches like the use of Antique fine china and a typically homey bathroom made the experience really enjoyable.

The next morning we began our day with a walk down to Santa Fe and over the road to where Palermo´s park district began. Walking past the Jardin Zoologico and the 300 meter queue we strolled across the main thoroughfair into Parque 3 de February where there was a boating lake and a rose garden on which several bright green parakeets wrestled with twigs for use in their nests. After crossing the lakes bridge, the road arched around along a central park style bicycle route and across Avenida Sarmiento toward the Jardin Japones.

Unfortunately, although we had heard great things about it, we were unable to locate the entrance to the Japanese garden so we ended up hopping into a black and yellow cab to vamos to the Museo Nacional De Belles Artes. The Art museum is home to over 10,000 pieces from all over the world including many recognised names in Monet, Rembrandt, Gaugin and Rodin. More interesting however was the upstairs gallery for Agentinian modern art which gave further evidence to the talent and creativity of the city´s young artists.

After the museum, we took another taxi to Plaza San Martin where a sloping hill drops away from a picturesque tree lined park and which faces the Torres Ingles, a tower reported to be like Big Ben but in fact only similar because it incorporated a clock. The 60 meter tower was given to the city by the British to commemorate the 100 year anniversary of the May Revolution in 1810. At the base of the sloping grass of the Plaza lies the memorial for the victims of the Falklands war. As this is probably not the best place for an English tourist we shuffled up and through the park to the much more touristy Avenida Florida where we booked our tickets for Sunday´s football match between Boca Juniors and Banfield.

In the evening we again returned to San Telmo for another magnificent steak at El Desnivel where we bumped into two English guys whom we´d stayed with in Ilha Grande of all places. Also in San Telmo we entered a little piece of England in Gibraltar bar and took pleasure in sinking a couple of pints... yes pints! ahhhh

Something we had wanted to do in our first week but never found the time for was to take a bicycle tour of the city so in the morning we went again to San Telmo where we hired bikes from Bicycleta Naranja (Orange) and set off on a 3 hour journey around the Southern portion of BA. The bicyles which of course were orange, had bmx handlebars and only one gear but were actually really fun and a great way to get around this thankfully flat city!

Our first stop was at Plaza Dorrego (where we went to the Antiques market the previous Sunday) and here our guide explained that San Telmo and this square used to be the old heart of the city but due to the spread of Yellow Fever, the area was deserted in favour of land further away from the polluted river. After several years of desertion, San Telmo was repopulated by the thousands of immigrants who arrived from all over the world to BA; hence why the architecture has so much European influence. The main steet Defensa is actually named for the way in which the residents successfully defended their city during a British invasion in 1807 by hurling houshold objects from their windows and balconies.

Our group of four including guide then rode through cobbled streets to the famous district of La Boca, named according to some because it lies at the mouth of the River (Boca = Mouth) and by others because the strong Italian contingent tend to be a rather loud and expressive bunch! Here, the houses which have always been inhabited by the poorer immagrants are notoriously made of tin sheets or wood and through generations of tradition are painted in the most vividly bright colours. The initial reason for the bright abodes is actually down to the use of left over paint from the boats as the district is so close to the port; This meant the paint, like the tin housing was cheap but also had the added bonus of being rather watertight.

On the journey through the comparitavely run down street of La Boca we passed the Bombanera, stadium of the renowned Boca Juniors football team and named because its steep sides give the appearance of a Candybox. Boca Juniors, a team formed by 5 local teenagers in 1901 are probably one of the most famous teams in South America and their matches against local rivals River Plate are one of the finest spectacles in the sporting world. The streets around the tall concrete stadium are plastered in the teams colours of Blue and Yellow and it is a brave man who mentions any other team within a few square miles. Of course, with tickets to the first game of the Season on Sunday; there is more to come of Boca...

La Caminito was next on our journey and comprises of literally one street where the tin houses are especially loud in colour and the streets full of tangoing dancers, artists and of course many tourists. The street was actually the first outdoor space to be classed as a museum but it was clearly a spectacle for tourists rather than a piece of the real La Boca. The highlight was actually an outdoor art exhibit which was a kind of human car wash. Thousands of blue strands of tubular plastic hung from a frame on the edge of the port and through which people of all ages ran through the blue spagetti for what we imagined would be a pleasant sensation... as it turned out, the spagetti ended up getting caught round your neck and nearly turned us blue.

Following the edge of the most polluted river in the World, we cycled north of La Boca passing on the way the old Iron bridge which in 1908 united the cities provinces and found ourselves at the entrance to the Ecological reserve. The reserve is a large natural arc of tall grasses and which offers a unique city escape and a chance to stroll free of pollutions through a habitat rich in wildlife. Unfortunately it was in the Nature Reserve that I dropped down a tiny slope, got caught out by the unbritish brake system by pressing the front instead of the back brakes and... well I fell off.

Embarrased and with a small stone imbedded in my hand we then rode back to the mainland and to Puerto Madero, a series of ports surrounded by a mix of old English shipping yards now appartments and modern hotels and night clubs. Crossing the Puenta de la Mujer (Bridge of the Lady) designed and donated to the city in 2001 by Spanish Engineer Santiago Calatrava we again entered the main Plaza de Mayo where we finished our bicycle tour.

That evening we were very kindly invited to Dinner by our friend from the previous weeks hostel Bruno, so we caught a cab over to San Telmo to eat another fine steak (Bife de Chorizo) at Caracol with his parents and his brother before their return flight to Brazil the next day.

After a healthy lie in and another morning without hot water in our hostel we woke up and went for a walk around Palermo, the district full of incredible boutiques we loved so much from the week before. This time sampling some different areas we meandered our way through street after street of yet more stylish fashion boutiques and past stalls where talented locals sold their handmade items.

Although it pains me to say it, Claire and I were by now a little fed up with steak so we instead chose to eat in a beautiful Vietnamese place Sudestrada where the food of lemon grass pork and Duck Satay was exquisite. Having asked our hostel receptionist of a live music recommendation before leaving and being given the name of her Piano Teacher, we went to No Avestruz for what we thought was a small jazz trio playing in a bar. When we arrived however, the tiny theatre style arena had a small and select guestlist on which there was no more spaces. Kindly the doorman said we could still go inside but we could only listen and not see the performance for no entrance fee.

Dissapointed, we sat down in the entrance with a glass of wine before another chap ushered us through to the main arena only a few bars into the first tune and shuffled us past several seats of paying customers to seats high up on the iron staircase. From there we had an amazing view of the amazing "Zo'loka?" a contempory jazz trio of pianist, cellist and one crazy crazy woman on vocals. Playing many of their own songs and an incredible rendition of Fly me to Moon, the band were tremendously talented but a breath of fresh air musically. The singer, who used her voice like an instrument (and could have been on day release from Broadmoor) was we felt, a kind of embodiment of the creativity which is blooming in the district of Palermo.

In some ways it seems as through this creativity and burst of talent has almost been assisted by Argentinas economic strife. Of course when you talk about the small design boutiques mentioned in the last blog, it is easy to imagine how low production costs have enabled young designers to flourish but in terms of art and music, the people of BA seem to be so committed to whatever it is they are passionate about; rather than putting their passions on hold in favour of financial success & stability. In a similar fashion to the way land scorched after fire blossoms with new life, the sparce economic landscape of Argentina has left a fertile plain for new life and talent to bloom.

Today being Sunday and most places being shut, we went to Abasto de Buenos Aires, a huge shopping mall (what fun) which was home to a giant indoor ferris wheel and a kosher McDonalds! Sunday was of course football day so after being picked up in coach around 2, we travelled back to the Bombanera to see the first game in the Apertura Tournament between Boca Juniors and nearby Banfield. Inside the stadium we rose up concrete stairs and at virtually the very top we entered the stadium and went to our seats high up in the steep stands. Up there, the wind was icy and made one of our group, A large bald and bere´d American fumed with anger at the prior reassurance that these were the best seats in the house. Although dissapointed with the seats, the American "Mark" from los Angeles turned out to be a hilarious and amiable chap who back home was a filmaker and English teacher.

The atmosphere inside the ground was pretty incredible right from the start with the main core of supporters down and to our left singing and preparing their flags for the match. Unlike english grounds, Boca fans spent some time unwravelling and arranging huge flags which stretched from the top of the stands down to the pitch side fencing. Young kids abseiled off the stands and down the flags to then climb the fencing and secure them to flap in the breeze. Out of view and under the main terrace, a full band drummed footstamping beats for the passionate fans to sing their favourite Boca Anthems.

Consider for a moment the chant "Brighton and Hove Albion FC, we´re by far the greatest team, the world has ever seen" which of course is as accurate as the earth is round. Now consider the lyrics to the Boca Juniors anthem "Boca Juniors, you great soccer champion - you who awaken love, enthusiasm and faith in our chests. With your victorious emblem, in colors gold and blue, our vigorous youth waxes enthusiam on the pitch…CHORUS: Boca is our victorious chant, for never is it afraid to fight ; Boca is enthusiasm and valor, Boca…move forward to prevail."... We English may have invented the beautiful game but our fans are no more articulate than a lorry.

As the teams came out of sausage shaped inflatable tunnels, a shower of ticker tape enveloped the entire stadium and settled on the pitch to be swirled around in the cold wind. For most of the game it seemed the core supporters to our left were more interested in singing and jumping on the spot than watching the match. Also in contrast to English football fans and their pointing and fist shapes, the Boca fans made more passive pulling arm gestures as their catchy songs were sung in full chorus around the ground.

The game itself was not bad at all with Boca dominating throughout although they were assisted by some rather ropey Banfield defending. Present in the crowd was Maradona (himself and Ex Boca player) who spent the entire game jumping up and down on the touchline and waving his little arms around. Two goals from Martin Palermo and one from Sebastian Battaglia made the final score 3-0 to Boca but curiously only the first goal was greeted by an eruption of mayhem in the stands.

With the crowd lifted and voices raised in celebration the final whistle ended a truly memorable experience. Although not a glamourous tie for the local fans, the passion of the supporters was clearly evident. Football really does run in the blood of South Americans so to witness a game here was an unforgettable experience.

So with the final whistle came the end of our time in Buenos Aires and with a 13 hour bus journey to Mendoza tomorrow, it was time to reflect on what a fabulous city it is. Over dinner that evening and by far the nicest Steak we've had yet (The size of a size 9 shoe and accompanied by no less than 15 side dishes and an amazing bottle of wine for 80 pesos or 13GBP) at La Cabrera, it was easy to feel very reassued by the thought that we can be so far from home yet feel so comfortable. This incredible city has captivated us for two weeks and although we realise this is not the first, nor probably the last time we will say "we hope to return", Buenos Aires is sitting proud at the top of our list.

The people and the rich culture they so openly display have provided us with inspiration, entertainment, very content bellies and lasting memories. Chau Buenos Aires...Vamos a bolver

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