Buenos Aires 2008

Arrival in Buenos Aires from Nice (France) via Madrid.

We had already been there in November 2004 on the occasion of the trip to Patagonia; we passed through it no fewer than four times, on our various trips up and down Argentina, with brief stops of a day or at most two. On this occasion too the destination was not Buenos Aires but Uruguay, yet we wanted to find the time for two weekends, one at the start and the other at the end of the holiday, to spend in a city we had liked and that offers the tourist a great deal. The microcentro, which on this occasion too I found heavily policed, within a radius of one kilometre, taking the obelisk as its epicentre, offers two splendid pedestrian streets, excellent for shopping: Florida and Lavalle. On Florida there is also the prestigious Galerías Pacífico with its three floors of elegant shops. The favourable exchange rate helps a lot, both with expenses and with dining.

The idea was not to overdo it by trying to see too many things, since a fairly busy holiday awaited us in Uruguay. So we limited ourselves to not wandering too far from the obelisk. For lunch, a couple of "empanadas de carne" in a café on Florida, a bit of shopping, and then back to the hotel on Avenida Corrientes, to try to shake off the fatigue of the very long hours of travel and the time-zone change: we arrived in the late morning. In the late afternoon, a stroll in the centre. Crossing Plaza de Mayo – the square in front of the Casa Rosada – we notice that near the obelisk there, some veterans of the Malvinas Islands war are literally camped under precarious nylon tents (through which mattresses, blankets, pots, and little stoves can be seen), and with conspicuous banners they are protesting, very civilly, demanding certain rights of theirs.

Around them, about twenty of them linger and chat, recognisable by their clothing. Each wears at least one item of military clothing: one trousers, one a jacket, one a cap. At a certain point they line up, and one of them, after standing at attention, salutes in the direction of the Casa Rosada. I see the flag being lowered from the flagpole on the façade of the presidential palace and I understand the reason for the lining up, the attention, and the salute. At the end, the veteran who was saluting turns around and, addressing those lined up, shouts: "Viva la Patria," and the others break ranks. I catch myself thinking that after all they have been through, both physically and morally, it takes courage to cheer; it also crosses my mind that it could be part of the protest.

On the way back towards Avenida Corrientes, I notice that, still on Plaza de Mayo, in 2004 I had noticed and photographed a "mural" on the pavement showing a white circle, bordered in red, containing a military cap and the words "Juicio e Castigo" in black. At the same spot the "mural" was no longer there, as the photos I have included show. Desaparecido itself too. In the evening, dinner and show at the tango house "Esquina Gardel" in the Abasto district. We knew the place because we had already been there on the previous occasion, so we wanted to repeat the satisfying experience. This time, though, we reserved a table in a decidedly better position than the time before. The dinner was excellent: we chose prawns, and it doesn't hurt that the wine is "all you can drink." The show was once again of a high standard, with very good artists and excellent costumes.

The orchestra seemed better to us.

To the center of the Capital.

Now the official name is "Ciudad Autónoma de Buenos Aires"; I forgot to ask whether the title of "Capital Federal" is still valid. In any case it is still the Capital. We wanted to spend one more day before going to Uruguay, just to relax, and so we did. In the morning, a bit more shopping between Florida and Lavalle, and then the intention was to go to Calle Tucumán, where there is a retail outlet of a well-known Argentine hat brand. We set off on foot along Calle Teniente General Juan Domingo Perón, which runs parallel to Avenida Corrientes in the direction of our destination.

After crossing Avenida 9 de Julio (they say that with its 108 metres of width it is the "ancha" – widest – in the world) and consequently passing the obelisk, still continuing along Calle Perón, at a certain point we noticed a trattoria very similar to those that used to be found in the old sailors' quarter of Genoa and were frequented by workers. In plain view, a grill on which an elderly "asador" was roasting kilos of meat. From the very narrow and very shabby pavement, we cast a glance inside and saw that the furnishings, extremely modest, were entirely similar to the aforementioned trattorias in Genoa. We carry on, not without promising ourselves that we would have our lunch in that place.

After a while, because of the heat, we got tired and asked how much farther it was to where we had to go: the fact that the city is divided into "blocks" makes it very easy, if you know the street number, to tell how far away a place is, so we were told that there were still 1,800 metres to go. We decided that the best thing was to retrace our steps and go and find refreshment in the trattoria we had seen before. The little tables must have been at most 50 x 50, but even so, the two of us fit. Naturally we ordered carne asada. It was excellent, like all Argentine meat. As a side, a truly exquisite salad: rocket, tomatoes, and onion, all cut very thin, as is the custom in Liguria. Strange thing, there were very few customers, despite the enormous mass of meat cooked and to be cooked that was on the grill. Another strange thing, the telephone rang repeatedly.

Then, from the owner, who was the gentleman who was diligently serving us (he too with an Italian grandfather, like all self-respecting Argentines…), it was explained to us that they do a lot of business by taking food around the neighbourhood to shopkeepers, office workers, labourers, and so on, food that is ordered by telephone. After dessert we asked for the bill, and we spent 53 pesos for two (10.60 euros), including two 66-cl beers, a gazzosa, and the bread. I am particularly pleased to point out this "typical" place, because it reminds me of my youth in Genoa and then, prices aside (which for us Genoese still count a lot…), both the meat and everything else were truly exquisite.

If it weren't so, they certainly wouldn't enjoy such success with the workers and office employees of the "barrio." Already the name says a lot…"LA FAVORITA DE TODOS" - Sandwicheria - Cafeteria - PARILLA (sandwich de miga, triple de jamon y queso), Calle Teniente General Juan Domingo Perón no. 1229. The business card, which I offer here, very artisanal and on "ordinary" paper, certainly doesn't care about form (6.5 x 4.5 cm), but it still gives the idea; in this case, though, what matters is the substance (of the meat…). Afternoon of relaxation and a bit more shopping in the two pedestrian streets while waiting for dinner time, when we have an appointment with Leonardo and Analía, a young couple, recently married. Analía works at the agency through which we arranged our trip.

They come to pick us up at the hotel, and in their Volkswagen "Gol" (Gol, not Golf) we go to the nearby barrio of Puerto Madero, where we had booked at the restaurant La Caballeriza, a place for lovers of grilled meat, with very typical décor, in horse-riding style, naturally. We didn't know them in person, only through contact, but they turned out to be a likeable couple, with whom we didn't notice the four hours passing while we were together. He had been in Italy, in Bologna, to buy hospital machinery, and naturally he did nothing but praise the Emilian cuisine that had been "injected" into him in large doses. We didn't stay up past midnight: the next morning they had to take the "buquebus" (ferry), which, in three hours crossing the Río de la Plata, would take us to the other shore, to Montevideo.

Second weekend in Baires.

After the two weeks spent in Uruguay, our intention was to return by Buquebus (ferry), as on the way there: three hours of comfortable relaxation on the Río de la Plata. The timetables, however, did not work out for being in Buenos Aires on the Saturday evening, where we had an appointment with Marcelo and Fernanda, a young couple the age of our daughter, whom we had met three years earlier when we were in Patagonia, to go to dinner at the tango house "El Viejo Almacén." Quite an early rise, for a holiday, to catch the 08:30 flight at Carrasco airport, the only flight of the morning. Barely time to get up and we land right away at Aeroparque. Morning in the centre on foot. In the afternoon we met up with Marcelo, who took us to have a coffee at the renowned Café Tortoni, Avenida de Mayo, 725. It is worth pausing for a moment on what is considered an "icon" of Buenos Aires.

Opened in 1858, it takes its name from a place on the Boulevard des Italiens in Paris, a meeting point of the elite of nineteenth-century Parisian culture. Over time it has been frequented by illustrious figures and has been declared a "site of national interest" by the Council of the City of Buenos Aires. Having left Café Tortoni, we head towards Avenida Corrientes. Passing in front of the Casa Rosada, we see a certain bustle of people. There will be the changing of the guard and the flag-lowering in solemn form, since it is the 196th anniversary of the founding of the "Granaderos a caballo," the cavalry regiment that serves as escort and security for the President of the Republic. Shortly before 18:00, the regiment's band arrives on foot, followed by a detail.

The veterans of the Malvinas war are also present at the flag-lowering; they line up on their own, and after the salute, as every evening, they break ranks to the cry of "Viva la Patria." After the ceremony, a band concert in Parque Cristóbal Colón, behind the Casa Rosada. About a thousand people attend; I wouldn't have believed I would see such participation in a military event. The bus picks us up at the hotel on Avenida Corrientes and takes us to the "Viejo Almacén," for dinner and the tango show. Both the former and the latter are of excellent quality. Good artists. A group that plays Andean music also performs, much applauded. It is Sunday: last day in Baires. We wanted to go and see the San Telmo street markets, but we forget about it after crossing the "deserted" Calle Florida and Lavalle. We stroll around Puerto Madero.

We visit the Navy's training ship "Presidente Sarmiento," now retired and anchored at the Port to be visited by school groups and tourists. We have lunch at the restaurant "La Caballeriza," not denying ourselves one last asado. In the late afternoon, on our way to Ezeiza airport, we notice that the Sunday excursionists are heading back into the city. On the lawns around the motorway you can still see many people who will certainly stay for the evening "chorrasco": you can see the fires under the grills. At Ezeiza airport there is a real sea of people of all nationalities departing. We are very eager to get back. We return. The holiday is beautiful also because then it ends.