Buenos Aires

Having earlier explained that I don't generally love cities, I now note that there are exceptions.  For example, I loved Buenos Aires.  What's more, I loved it even though there were things I'd planned on doing that I didn't do, including a street art tour (see below) and watching tango (first night: too tired, second night: wanted to eat steak in my neighborhood, third night: WAY too rainy).  Rather than approach the city with my ordinary "must do and see everything" mode, I mostly wandered around various neighborhoods and hung out, drank wine, and ate food with Brad, Rebecca, Nick, and Placida.  (Brad was coincidentally in town for a conference + vacation extension, and the others decided to join him, at least for the vacation portion.)  And it was great.

Arriving from Seattle (through LA, through Lima, through Santiago) on Friday morning, I checked into my hotel in Villa Crespo and then met up with Brad et al at their airbnb apartment nearby in Palermo.  After an empanada lunch, we wandered around downtown and the waterfront all afternoon.  Although evening shenanigans were in the works, succumbed to post-flight fatigue and opted for an early night instead.

On Saturday, the rest of the group took a day trip to Le Tigre, so I undertook a solo exploration of the city.  Among other things, I visited El Ateneo (see left), an old theater that now serves as an amazing bookstore, the Recoleta Cemetary (where Evita is buried), and the Evita Museum.  The Evita Museum has a wonderful restaurant, so I stopped there for lunch.  Unfortunately, it took some time for me to obtain and pay the lunch bill, so I left without much time to get to the meeting point for my street art tour, scheduled (I believed) to begin at 2:35.

When I arrived at the meeting point around 2:36, however, I wasinformed that the tour had already left.  I checked the website and it turns out that since I booked the tour a couple months ago, the start time had changed from 2:35 (the time listed in my confirmation email) to 2:20.  Disappointed, I wandered around the area for a while on my own street art tour, but I'm sure it was far inferior.  I consoled myself later that evening with steak at a restaurant near my hotel and drinks at a great local bar (Brad graciously kept me company).

I did manage to follow through on one organized activity: a city bike tour that covered most of the important tourist areas and gave a ton of fascinating information about the history and culture of Buenos Aires in particular and Argentina in general.  (For example, did you know that Argentina has the highest number of psychologists per capita of any country in the world?  The tour guides offered this as an explanation for why there was so much dog poop on the streets: apparently, these psychologists suggest building toward healthy human relationships by first nurturing a plant and then a dog.  I don't see why owners of therapy dogs are less capable of scooping than any other owners, but there you go.)

The only downside to the tour was the weather.  Believing that I had a street art tour to go to on Saturday (I'm still sad about missing it, can you tell?), I booked my bike tour for Sunday.  When we began the tour by visiting the colorful neighborhood of La Boca (see left), it was merely drizzling, but by the time we reached Recoleta in the afternoon, it was practically a torrential downpour.  Buenos Aires has pretty amazing bike lanes, usually separated by a barrier from car traffic, but they're only so useful when they're flooded.  What's more, it wasn't only rainy but also windy -- and a solid headwind can make even a really easy, flat street feel like a sizable hill.

Despite the weather and the presence of other vehicles, my bicycling performance was far superior in Buenos Aires than in Cambodia.  Maybe I'm improving, or maybe (more probably) it's easier to bicycle on paved roads without a bruised tailbone than on bumpy dirt roads with one.  Indeed, I was doing well enough that two-thirds of the way through the tour, I had the audacity to think that maybe, just maybe, this time I could write a blog post about a bicycle tour and report that I sailed through the entirety with flying colors and without embarrassing incidents.

I must have jinxed myself.

While cycling past Recoleta plazas dedicated to various countries, I noticed that the mobility of my left foot was starting to be restricted and realized that my shoelace must have gotten caught.  I slowed to a stop, believing that I still had enough slack to step down.  But I had no slack, leading to what must have been a hilarious slow-motion fall: I stopped the bike, and then just tilted over.  (Indeed, I received compliments on how "well" I fell.  I didn't explain my secret: practice, practice, practice.)  It turns out my shoelace had wrapped itself multiple times around the pedal and had to be laboriously unwound.  Oops.

But that's not all!  No more than 4 blocks away from the endpoint of the tour, we stopped at a red light and, when the light changed, I started peddling... and nothing happened.  My chain had fallen off.  

Still, the only thing I injured was my pride (and I somehow managed a massive bruise on my knee, unrelated to the fall).  No harm, no foul: the tour was well worth it, even in the rain.

In sum: I wanted far more than the three days I had in this city.  It's an easy addition to my list of places I'd like to revisit.