A Tale of Two Cities

Since the small town of Cafayette couldn´t contain us, we set our sights on the capital, Buenos Aries - which is large enough to lose yourself in for days.

Dream trilogy
I have three wishes as we arrive, although there isn´t a genie in sight...and that´s the rub:) Nonetheless, all my dreams come true within the first day...

1) Taste a chroripan - a delicious sausage sandwich made from spicy chorizo. We will come to practically live on these over the next few days. Boom-bada, I feel like getting fatter!
2) Get a haircut - despite the difficulties explaining the style I want (I call it Blue Magnum:) in broken Spanish, I´m unexpectedly pleased with my cut - all it´s missing is a hat!
3) Buy a pair of sunglasses - practically the first place we see is a vintage fashion collectors run by a pair of Queens (not in the card playing sense). Within seconds of enquiring about sunglasses I am handpicked the coolest pair of shades since Elvis was alive. I buy a back up pair the next day! If eyes are the windows to the soul...sometimes I need the curtains drawn:)

It be proper Bo(hemian), I tell thee!
We stay in an elegantly wasted hostel that was once a beautiful colonial house in the San Telmo district. The place reminds us of Brighton with a bohemian culture sharing the streets with high cafe society. The main square is surrounded by ageing hippies selling arts and crafts while the affluent sip cortados and watch tango shows in the centre. We walk on both sides of the road.

Tale of two cities
Buenos Aries is a cosmopolitan city with strong Italian influences, is that Neopolitan? It´s one of the most amazing cities in the world and part of the reason is the contrasts that exist at every corner...

* Glistening structures of modern architecture share the skyline with antiquated colonial buildings in a state of decay

* In Palermo, acres of manicured gardens offer relaxing walks for the rich while in Boca´s parks the homeless drown themselves in sorrow until they wake up tomorrow

* The overwhelming noise of the city centre plagued with pedestrians and seven lanes of suicidal traffic compared to the eerie silence of Recolota´s cemmetry - where streets of elaborate mausoleums house the nation´s dead elite (I see dead people, all the time!)

* We visit an art gallery where old masterpieces sit alongside innovative modern art. Become transfixed by a Jackson Pollack piece that suggest both chaos and control...the same could be said about this city.

Help!...the aged
I have come to the conclusion that I am invisible in the eyes of Argentine men...especially the elderly!

The wrinkled limes in Buenos Aries shine brightly on Flo. Mature men have pleaded to paint her, offered to take her home and always try and sneak a lip kiss...all while I stand by my woman.

At least the younger men confirm my existence...by frequently stopping me in the street to congratulate me, with a handshake, on a good job well done!

Worst still, I may also be invisible in the eyes of Argetine women:(

Tales of the unexpected
The best nights are spontaneous. When plans to meet friends change we decide to have an inexpensive evening that begins at a choripan place. We meet our man in Buenos Aries when he buys us a drink and insists on paying for our meal. He unexpectedly takes us to some cool bars and an underground club we would never have found - while acting as our guardian angel throughout. We stay later than he does.*

I am last seen wandering my hostel in the early hours wearing only underpants and shades. I manage to convince the caretaker to briefly open the bar...if I put some clothes on! If you´re not wasted, the day is:)

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