New Aires

I don't know how I didn't notice before, but instantly, upon walking around with Brian on Friday, all I could think was how much Buenos Aires is exactly like New York. I know I've mentioned how places remind me of others throughout Argentina and Chile, but BsAs is...almost exactly New York. It's uncanny. Everywhere we go, Brian and I know the area because they ahve a neighborhood like it in Manhattan.

So far, we've done a bunch of the sights. On Saturday, we went to Recoleta, which is posh and leafy and lovely, and went to the cemetery there. It was really elaborate, these tombs, but also vaguely run down because a lot of these people were buries hundreds of years ago - no more family to maintain the mausoleums. It will also never be creepy to see these locked tomb doors with stairways going dow, cause we KNOW what they are going down to. We did see Evita's grave, though, which was surprisingly anticlimactic. Then we went to the fine arts museum, and saw all kinds of paintings from all kinds of time and just generally enjoyed the air conditioning (it was hot hot hot and HUMID as all get out).

Then last night we went to Palermo Viejo, the SoHo of BsAs. I was craving something non-Argentinian to eat, so we got sushi. Was it the best sushi I've ever had? Far cry from that. But it was fresh and tasty, and not fried beef or ham, so I was in heaven. It tasted fantastic, and we polished off a bottle of wine, so it was an excellent night.

Palermo Viejo is pretty much the best neighborhood I've seen here, though today we went to San Telmo, which comes close. It's the West Village, and on Sundays they have this massive market/antiques fair that brings hoardes of people and street performers, so we wandered the cobbled streets and enjoyed. So it is a good place too - lucky, since our hostel is in San Telmo - but I think we'l be back to Palermo before the trip is out.

Other highlights include the complete absence of gay bars in this town. Brian dutifully wrote down dozens on his map, and we have so far tried to go to 8 of them. But apparently, the names and addresses came from Ye Olde Map of Closed Bars, because every single one is not there, or doesn't look like it was ever there. We found one, but it was a scary stairway that Brian said led to hamster cage shavings (I said it looked like the place I would surely die), and then one other we got to, but we arrived before they opened. At midnight. We will keep trying, though, dammit. I will not ruin Brian's streak of international gay bar tours.

All was not lost, though. Last night on the way back, we wandered into San Telmo's Carnivale celebration, which evidently involves a lot of spray foam. It was pretty cool to see the celebration, but I will tell you: never take a hit of spray foam to the open eye. It's not good eye health practice.

But I would like to make a mention of the one, awesome, spectacular thing about this city, and that is the ice cream. A serious sweet tooth and all the best of an Italian tradition makes ice cream a way of life here, and thank god for it. It was gorgeous weather today - still sunny and hot, but breezy and not humid - so the ice cream tastes to die for. The banana split-flavored ice cream was the best we've had yet.

Also: gotta love siesta. I think I will take advantage of it now...