The Jetpacker

Buenos Aires isn’t like other major tourist destinations where there’s a laundry list of things to see and do.  We hit almost all of the big sights already — Casa Rosada, Plaza de Mayo, Congreso, Recoleta Cemetery and Galerias Pacifico — so now we’re taking it easy and experiencing a slice of city life.

Today was a simple day that got off to a great start; there were no stray dogs in sight, the bank was empty, and there was an abundance of available cabs right at the corner of our hotel (there’s construction on our street so the cabs tend to stay 2 or 3 blocks away).

Argentina is known for steaks and empanadas, but I had neglected the heavenly possibilities of empanadas until lunch today.  A restaurant called Cumana was being hailed as The Vatican of empanadas, so we had to go on an exodus to the promised land.  They were so good, we might go back for lunch tomorrow.  My favorite was the butternut squash, corn and cheese; Jackie loved the ham and cheese.  We devoured six delectable meat-filled pies before our pizza came.  The pizza, unfortunately, wasn’t the same quality as the empanadas.  Lunch was only $15 for all those empanadas, a large pizza and 3 waters.

Cumana is right off Avenida Santa Fe, the second most popular shopping street in Buenos Aires (just below Calle Florida).  Yesterday a guy told me, “Your sweater… $20 on Calle Florida… $10 on Santa Fe.”

After walking about 12 blocks along Santa Fe, I can’t really say the guy’s assessment was correct.  The street wasn’t that crowded, probably because it was a workday in the off-season.  And because it wasn’t crowded, beggars and hawkers eyed us up like golden nuggets.

We tried to avoid them and concentrate on the stores, but Santa Fe featured the same over-priced, designer stores we had seen on Calle Florida and in Patio Bullrich.  You know a street is destined to be expensive (even by American standards) when there are stores selling premium horse saddles and polo wear (granted, polo is the second biggest sport in Argentina below soccer).

Even though we didn’t wind up buying much, there was still some pretty cool stuff to see on Santa Fe.

I like art, even though I’m no expert, so I really enjoyed wandering Galerias Santa Fe.  The corridors are decorated with detailed murals and the majority of shops sold work from local artists.  Even the benches were pieces of art.

Right next door is the rebellious teenage sister of Galerias Santa Fe — a grungy, non-commercialized version of Hot Topic spread over three floors and decorated with graffiti, called Galerias Bond Street.  Every other shop was a tattoo parlor, and I couldn’t help but join the small crowds watching brave people get inked.  The buzzing from the needles echoed through the halls so loudly, not even the frantic beat of punk rock music could drown out the sound.  The other shops were dedicated to cult movies, music, punk rock t-shirts, and toys and comic books.

I passed a store selling bongs and other drug paraphernalia, which made me wonder what the policy of soft drug use was in Argentina.  Well, I got my answer in the form of a headline.  The Supreme Court of Argentina went the route of Amsterdam today and decided it’s unconstitutional to punish an adult for smoking marijuana in private.  We were here for history!

A couple blocks further, we ventured into what might be the greatest book store ever: El Ateneo Grand Splendid.  The building was originally a theater in 1919, and most of the opulent features such as the painted ceiling and the ornate sculptures still remain.  Coming from a place where every Barnes And Noble book store looks identical, it was awesome to see an intellectual’s paradise harbored in a historical marvel.

Afterward, we took a short cab ride to the Xul Solar Museum.  I didn’t who Xul Solar was before visiting Buenos Aires, but now that I’ve been introduced to his work, I can’t wait to learn more about this enigmatic man when I get back home.  Xul Solar was an eccentric painter, sculptor, architect, writer, musician, philosopher and mathematician; oh, and in his spare time, he invented his own language called Pan.  The museum displays 100 reproductions of his colorful paintings, which mainly features esoteric symbols and strange imagery.

But what was really fascinating was the museum itself.  The museum is housed in Solar’s former residence — which he designed — and while it’s not on the same scale as the Winchester Mansion in San Jose, California, it’s just as weird.  From the outside, it looks like a respectable, elegant mansion; but from the inside, it looks like something out of the movie “Labyrinth.”  The freakiest thing was walking near concrete walls that didn’t connect to the floor or other walls; in some rooms there was a gap about a foot long between the floor and the wall, so we had to watch our step and make sure we didn’t fall onto the level below.  Pictures weren’t allowed, but here’s a map of Solar’s house to give you an idea.

Forgive me if I seem out of it, but I’m still in a food coma from dinner.  We went to a traditional parilla called La Chacra; we should have known what we were getting into when we saw the butter-flied pigs sizzling over a fire pit and the heads of deer of bison looking down at our table.

We felt daring enough to order the meat feast.  I think our hunger clouded our better judgment.  We were presented with a silver tray piled with a mountain of various meats; it was a feast so imposing, a medieval king would whimper in fear.  We had chicken, sausage, pig, beef, cheese… and just to be a little healthy, they decided to throw in half a grilled eggplant.  It was delicious and wrong and beautiful and emasculating and wonderful and sinful.

We couldn’t conquer the beast.  Hell, we could barely take on half the plate.  The menu said it could feed 3 people, but I’m thinking 5 is more like it.  But for $40, it was well worth the attempt.  I can safely say we don’t have a future in competitive eating.

Observations of the day:

–The most depressing sight of the day wasn’t a stray dog, it was a homeless woman sleeping on a mattress in the middle of the sidewalk on Avenida Santa Fe… holding a newborn baby wrapped in old clothing.

–What I saw in a mini-mart today greatly confused me… a pheromone beverage.  It was called “Mr. Love.”  I can’t even fathom the logistics, but for less than $1 a can, I may have to give it a try tomorrow… for scientific purposes, of course.

–We pass one of Buenos Aires’ most famous landmarks every single day and I keep forgetting to share a picture with you.  Here’s the Obelisk, a 220-foot high phallic symbol right in the middle of largest roadway in the world, Avenida 9 de Julio.

–Here’s another interesting sight on the city’s main avenue — a 7-story tall billboard of a woman breastfeeding.

–We saw some stores with interesting names today, like “Kill” and “The Dead Cat.”

–I saw this sign in a ladies’ clothing store.  I really hope this word means something else in Spanish…

–While waiting for lunch to arrive, Jackie and I noticed a basket of crayons, waiting patiently to be used.  No one else was drawing on their paper table covers, but we’re basically kids stuck in adult bodies, so we had to put our art skills to the test.  I drew a museum-worthy portrait of our rabbit named Buns, aka “Black Gold” (she’s got gold flecks in her black hair)…

Jackie decided to ruin my masterwork with her Tim Burton-esque interpretation of the rabbit…