A little R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Even though the Buenos Aires cemetery (aka the one that all the guidebooks say "you must visit") is in the Recoleta neighborhood, our first brush with the dead came Wednesday in the Chacarita Cemetary, since we were already just a few blocks away at the farmer's market, anyway.

Created in the early 1800s as a final resting place for the masses of victims from a yellow fever epidemic (mostly from the San Telmo and La Boca neighborhoods), this cemetery is less exclusive than Recoleta's, yet the best of Chacarita's tombs apparently rival Recoleta's best.

First, a description. Most tombs have above-ground space (on shelves) for two or three caskets, plus assorted containers for ashes, vases of flowers, photos, etc. The floor of the tomb (often covered with beautiful black and white or marble tile) generally has a large square opening, covered with an ornate metal grate. In most tombs (based on the ones I was able to see into), there is also a very narrow staircase spiraling down into the depths of their "basements." I counted as many as eight layers of below-ground shelving in one tomb, each shelf (16 in all) occupied.

This was our first experience with a cemetery of this type, and the first thought that came to mind was "city of the dead." Indeed, the streets and streets of ornate tombs look like a miniature of some of the streets of ornate homes we've come across. Like many neighborhoods, there was quite a variance in the level of upkeep.

Some of the tombs are lovingly tended. Outside, they are spotlessly clean. Inside, vases of fresh flowers sit beside framed photos and other mementos. Pressed linen cloths, embroidered or plain, are draped over the above-ground caskets. Small throw rugs soften the floor.

Others are covered with a film of cobwebs, skeletons of long-dried-up roses stuck in the ornate metal work on the doors, which at least are securely locked.

Sadly, the reason I could count caskets was because some of the tombs have been badly vandalized, their windows broken, doors unlocked and open, ornate plaster smashed into dust, metal grates long gone. Empty beer bottles, plastic cups and other trash lie scattered all around. Talk about lack of respect for the dead.

Beyond the tomb city lie its gardens: a huge area filled with trees, flowering shrubs and plant-covered plots. I love cemeteries, because although death does bring sadness, happy memories of loved ones never die. I can't wait to visit the Recoleta Cemetary next week (and not just because Evita is buried there).

Heaven: in or out?

We died and went to steak heaven tonight. We ate at Campobravo (Baez 292) a few blocks from our apartment.

We chose to be unfashionable (heading out the door at 8:15 p.m.) so we could get a sidewalk table. We ordered martinis instead of wine (a mistake we won't repeat...see the previous post), a roasted red pepper with olive oil as our (delicious) appetizer, then shared a quite large bife chorizo (sirloin steak) and a platter of grilled vegetables.

This steak was so good, I can't even begin to describe it. But I'll try. It was thick, and tender, and juicy and perfectly cooked (seared on the outside, and evenly rosy throughout the inside). The flavor was...beefy. Delicious.

Anyway, imagine my surprise when, as we began to walk away from the restaurant, J says to me "We're never coming back here."

WTF?

Turns out, the bill included a 10 peso (5 pesos each) cubierto fee. AKA, a silverware charge. This was two nights in a row we saw this on our dinner bill (Wednesday night it was 7 pesos each, and for a mediocre meal at that). A little Google search revealed that this charge used to be common in Buenos Aires, went away for a while, and is now back. Some restaurants charge it, some don't. The fee tends to range from 2 to 10 pesos. It allegedly covers "extras" like silverware, napkins and bread.

I guess the question becomes, what price are we willing to pay to go back to heaven?

Lost in translation

We've found many things to love in Buenos Aires so far in our few days here (beef, ice cream, cafes, sidewalk seating, architecture, the subway system), many things we don't like but can tolerate (dodging dog poo on every sidewalk, the abundance of mullets, insanely crazy drivers), but let us state for the record that there are two things here that are awful beyond compare: toilet paper and martinis.

The "softest" toilet paper is a few cuts above sandpaper, and the martinis we ordered tonight were so strange that we couldn't figure out what the deal was with them. Sweet vermouth? Olive juice? Lemon juice? Cheap gin? So very odd. Plus, they cut a straw in half to use as olive picks...need I say more? I think we'll stick to wine and Quilmes from here on out, thank you very much.

What a dollar can buy

After Tuesday's rainfest, Wednesday delivered a picture-perfect morning. The birds were singing, the sun was softly glowing, a breeze was gently blowing. You get the idea.

The day turned out to be fiscally fine, too. While not everything in Buenos Aires comes with a rock-bottom price tag, we did very well for ourselves on this glorious day, starting with breakfast at Ocio, the cute cafe around the corner from our apartment:

• Cafe con leche (a latte, in Seattle vernacular) with three medialunas (small croissants), the most traditional of Buenos Aires breakfasts: 10 pesos ($2.90 US).
  
• Cafe con leche with tostadas (aka three thin slices of toasted rustic bread) served with tiny ramekins of soft, spreadable cheese and strawberry jam and a small glass of freshly squeezed orange juice: 12 pesos ($3.48 US).
  

Priceless extras: whenever you order a cafe at a cafe, it comes to you with a small glass of mineral water and a tiny plate of a few tiny cookies. Lovely anytime, but especially when you need a little between-meal pick-me-up.

We walked off breakfast by hoofing it a few miles to the la Chacarita neighborhood, primarily to check out a weekly farmer's market we had heard about. Located in a small, brightly painted building next to a rail yard, it offered up a bounty of Argentine grown, Argentine-produced items. Fresh local produce, baked goods, olive oil, wine, soap, dried fruits, nuts, etc. We walked away 53 pesos ($16.37 US) poorer, but so much the richer, because those few dollars bought us:

• One bottle of Malbec wine from Argentina's Mendoza region.
  
• Two adorable fruit tarts with lattice-top crusts.
  
• Five tomatoes.
  
• Small bag of dried whole peaches (which are delicious beyond compare).
  
• Small bag of dried pears.
  
• Small bag of mixed dried fruit (figs, grapes, etc.).
  
• Small bag of the most almondy almonds we've ever tasted in our lives.

We dropped off a bag of dirty clothes one of the several laundries in our neighborhood and picked them up clean a few hours later for 12 pesos, or $3.48. A stop at one of the several neighborhood supermercados got us two 2-liter bottles of water, a large bottle of Quilmes Stout and toilet paper (since our apartment came with less than two rolls!) for $3.70.

We learned a hard lesson when we visited the Alto Palermo mall (We're officially sick of malls,  in any hemisphere) and went to a touristy, so-so, overpriced restaurant. Ugh. Never again...we have learned our lesson (Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me!).

Our luck turned for the better after that, ending on a sweet note when we stopped at the original outpost of Persicco for the best ice cream ever in this world or any other. We shared a small (ha!) cup of half tiramisu and half mousse de chocolate. Yum! Since there is a newer branch near our apartment, we will be going back often, I'm sure.

This just in

Hola! I just posted some additional information about some of the historic places we visited yesterday, as well as some links to appropriate Wikipedia pages for more info. All new info is [in brackets]. I ran out of time last night! 

A tale of two dinners

Our first night in Buenos Aires, we didn't head out the door to dinner until about 10 p.m. We went to Piegari Piazza, a block and a half from our apartment. We shared a delicious pizza and a mixed green salad, with an olive oil-balsamic vinegar dressing that our waitress (who was assigned to us because she spoke some English) mixed up fresh at our table. After all the talk of Buenos Aires being the home of good, cheap eats, we were surprised that the pizza and salad prices weren't much less than what we find at home at our favorite "gourmet" pizza place, Tutta Bella. However, what made the total bill a bargain was the nice bottle of Malbec wine that cost $10 US.

Tonight, we decided that beef was what's for dinner and headed to Las Cholas (again, a block and a half away) at the unfashionably early hour of 8:15 p.m. We had three good reasons for this:

1. We were hungry.
   
2. The Video Poker King advised us to plan on hitting this popular place early (before 9:40) or late (after midnight). 
   
3. On our little post-Piazza walkabout at nearly midnight, we indeed discovered first hand that this place was packed to the gills. Inside tables, sidewalk tables...all overflowing. On a Monday night. Crazy!

So, we got right in tonight, and the crowds soon followed. We dined happily on a huge tenderloin steak (bife lomo) with a side of fries (which we shared based on the waitress' advice) and a side of clay oven roasted vegetables (potatoes, sweet potatoes, yucca, corn, mushrooms and onion), along with two bottles each of Quilmes Stout beer. All for 76 pesos, or less than $25 US. We also appreciated that our steak and fries were served on a wooden cutting board, and that our places were set with smaller, round cutting board in lieu of plates. A nice rustic, practical touch.

Side note: We've been asked what kind of exchange rate we got. At the bank outside the airport, we got 3.40 peso to the dollar. In Microcentre today, we spotted several signs in shop windows promoting a rate of 3.60 or 3.70 pesos to the dollar for purchases.

Back to our regularly scheduled program: We were saddened to see on tonight's post-dinner walkabout that the Piazza was totally devoid of customers. This was shocking, since other restaurants were hopping (even if their outdoor tables were too damp for outdoor dining), and we had lovely food and service last night. A little Google search revealed that the Piazza is a small chain (Uruguay, Paraguay and Mexico, too) and has received some mixed reviews. Pity.

The same, and not the same, Part Dos

It rained almost all day today. Just like it often does in Seattle. Who knew (this could happen)?*

After a satisfying eight hours of sleep (which we did not get Sunday night on our red-eye flight), we took our time getting out of the apartment, relying on our Jumbo purchases for breakfast:

• Yogurt (which comes in smaller single-serving sizes than in the U.S., and for love or money cannot be purchased in "plain" format).
  
• Ruby red grapefruit (smaller than in the U.S, but sweet and juicy).
  
• Eggs (shelf-stable, in cute little clear six-pack containers)
  
• French press coffee (after deliberating extensively over the completely strange to us pre-ground coffee options, J made an excellent choice with Cabrales) with 1.5 percent fat milk (all milk was shelf-stable, and it felt really strange to pull it off a shelf instead of out of a refrigerated case, but it tasted just fine).

We decided to go all touristy today and head downtown, aka Microcentro. We located the nearby subway station and clumsily (thanks to our pathetic lack of Spanish) bought two 10-trip passes. A train came almost immediately, and while a bit hot and crowded, it got us to our destination quickly. Emerging from the station 9 de Julio was a total trip in itself. I chose the station because we wanted to see the famous Obelisco first. Well, el Obelisco is located in the [center of the Plaza de la Republica, which is surrounded by a sort of enormous] roundabout thoroughfare [formed by the intersections of 9 de Julio and Corrientes avenues] that in a million years I would never want to attempt to drive in. Death defying doesn't even cover it. [El Obelisco itself is 220 feet tall, with a footprint bigger than some Seattle studio apartments (530 square feet), and was constructed in a four week period in May 1936 to commemorate the 400th anniversary of Buenos Aires' first founding.]

We took a few pix, then, spotting a tourist info center, went to by a Guia T for 10 pesos (around $3 US). Tourists and non-tourists alike use it all the time to look up which bus routes service their current location. But if a tourist uses the maps in the Guia T instead of whipping out a guidebook (or, heaven forbid, an actual foldout map) they don't get immediately ID'd as a tourist. Brilliant!

Using the Guia T to orient ourselves in relation to the multi-lane traffic death trap, we ambled down Ave. Roque Saenz Pena to the Plaza de Mayo (home of frequent protests, including those of the Mothers of the Disappeared [or Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo], whose sons and daughters [disappeared during the Dirty War, 1976-1983]), the Casa Rosada (aka the Pink House), the Argentine parallel to the White House, and a few other massive statues paying tribute to notable figures in Buenos Aires history. We were able to stand roughly 20 feet from Casa Rosada, and while there were many police officers around it, with serious gear like bulletproof shields, they were not carrying major riflepower, contrary to what we were expecting. [Unlike the White House, the Argentine president no longer lives at Casa Rosada, she merely works there.]

For a more flavorful bite of history, we walked along Ave. de Mayo to the very-old-and-oh-so-Italian Cafe Tortoni [for real...founded in 1858, it's the oldest coffee shop in Argentina]. I saw more than one mention that this cafe had become very touristy, yet was still worth going to. Indeed, I think most of the patrons were tourists, and most of them were taking photos of the restaurant, themselves in the restaurant, their food, etc. Even worse, two clearly North American women paid their bill in U.S dollars. I'm sorry, but can you imagine someone from Argentina trying to pay with pesos in a U.S restaurant? I think not! (OK, the semi-hypocritical non-Spanish speaker is stepping off her soapbox now... .) J thought it was a waste of time to go there, but I personally enjoyed the authentic decor, and the light, delicious, inexpensive lunch of an espresso (cafe), sparking mineral water and cured ham and cheese on a baguette. And the air conditioning...I really enjoyed the AC.

Refreshed, we backtracked to Ave. Florida, aka tourist shopping central. The plan was to pop into the Galerias Pacifico, and upscale mall in a beautiful old building, then continue on for a few more blocks to enjoy the best of what the avenue has to offer (mainly leather shops). Well, the first raindrops started falling about two blocks before we reached the Galerias, so we spent way more time in there than we planned to, simply waiting out the rain. And waiting. And waiting. We weren't the only ones...quite the crowd had congregated inside the mall doors. Finally, we threw caution to the rain and leapfrogged from leather store to leather store, where we had no trouble finding English-speaking salespeople. They were very friendly, but the service was more overbearing than I like, especially since I had no intention of parting with much money on the second day of a two-week trip. I was merely pre-shopping, to get an idea of what is available, and for what prices.

We made it to Plaza San Martin, which looked lovely through the millions of huge fat raindrops, but we soggily chose to not explore it, instead walking one more block to the nearest subway station, with the rest of the sodden masses. One line tranfer and several stops later, we arrived at our home station. Fingers crossed, we ascended the stairs to the outside world...only to find that it was raining harder. Aaarrrgggghh! We arrived back at our apartment looking like drowned rats. Fortunately, we try to be mellow about weather issues, since we can't control the weather, and getting mad about it doesn't change a thing. I will say this..as we sat on the couch making a loose itinerary for the next few days, it was quite lovely to have the big windows open, hearing the rain, feeling the breeze (the temp was about 70 at that point) and watching the trees swaying right outside. Lemonade out of lemons, I suppose. Even better, the chance of rain (listed at 95 percent today) is 5 percent until Monday. Whew!

* I've learned that it snowed in Seattle today. That made me feel much better about the rain here!