Recipe for a Banging Night Out in Buenos Aires (por 2 personas): 1 litro Stella Artois
1 litro Vino Tinto
1 litro Brandy (Fernet) and Coke
17 Latin percussionists Mix well. Serve chilled.
Fiesta de La Bomba de Tiempo (Festival of the Time Bomb)!
The advert says “Dance all night until sunrise I want to see ... many crazy out there” (well, that’s how Google translates it). Highly recommended by Binx, it didn’t start until half past midnight and finished at 7:00am!
Dos ticketos por favour.
We were there on the dot to see what all the fuss was about.
First thing to report is that the bar only seemed to work in units of a litre. I ordered a beer - a litre of Stella arrived (in a large plastic glass). OK - fine. Moi wanted a glass of red wine - a litre of red wine arrived (in a large plastic glass). Er - OK. I went back later and ordered a brandy and coke (well, Fernet and coke). Yes, you guessed it, a litre of brandy and coke arrived (in a large plastic glass). Extremely civilised.
some pumping Latin beats from 17 Latin percussionists, a heady smokin’ atmosphere and about 2000 people and you’ve got yourself a Fiesta de La Bomba de Tiempo. It reminded me of WOMAD club night (in the olden days) in more ways than one. Great sound. Great venue (with outdoor courtyard). Great rhythms.
Unfortunately, we didn’t stay the course, and left early (reluctantly), about 4:45 am. Primarily because it seemed my ability to walk in a straight line had been severely hampered for some reason (I mean, it was only fair I helped Moi out with her litre of wine).
Bit of a lie-in this morning (and afternoon).
Then off to the eclectic market of San Telmo. Flea market, craft market, street performers, musicians. A bit like a Spanish version of Camden.
Bit knackered now. Some din-dins (hoping to get some delicious Empanadas, though the steaks are really something else here) and an early night.
Off to Igazu Falls tomorrow. Aware that this is our last week of what has been an amazing trip. (You should do it, you’d be surprised at what you find. Except Graysie of course, no point).
Buenos Aires has been
great. Quite Mediterranean in many ways, and quite not in others. It’s difficult to put into words. Perhaps some poetry:
Don’t Cry For Me
For I am not sad.
I love your banging
And the brandy’s not that bad.
If I ruled the world
You could have the Falklands back
(And people wouldn’t wear trousers
Just panties, coloured black).
So . . .
Don’t Cry For Me
There really is no need
We can all be happy
If we want
Would we come back?
We have no choice, the Empanadas are to die for.
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