¡Bienvenidos a Buenos Aires! Fin.

 The End. 

Day Sixteen

Maybe it was last night’s cheap wine, but I woke up with a headache. It was a lazy morning, and I didn’t leave the apartment until almost 1pm. I went on a search for souvenirs. In all my daily outings, I hadn’t seen many souvenir shops, most were other businesses that sold a few trinkets on the side, but I was looking for something other than the usual magnets and postcards.

I Googled a few places, but none of them had what I was looking for. I wanted something Christmasy for my mom as she collects Snowmen and Santas. I also wanted to find a wood sculpture of a bird or something Argentine-related that I could decorate my apartment with. I followed my GPS back to Alto Palermo mall to a kiosk that had ‘Christmas’ in their name, but they sold nothing related to the holiday.

The energy of the city was very hectic today, but that might have been just my energy because I was almost hit by a bus! I was crossing the street, and the bus was making a wide right turn. Luckily, I stopped, otherwise I would have walked into the side of it. I’m surprised that more people don’t get run over as drivers don’t bother to stop or even slow down when pedestrians are in a designated crosswalk.

After walking about 5 miles in a fruitless search, I finally found a Christmas store less than a mile from my apartment. I bought two small wooden figurines for my mom, but when I got back to the apartment and read the label, they were made in China!

A Messi mural by artist 
Maxi Banasco.

Day Seventeen

After a twenty-minute walk to Dulce de Leche & Company to buy alfajores and a jar of dulce de leche to make my own alfajores when I return home, I went in search of a cafe. I stayed within my neighborhood, but most of the outside tables were taken. The only ones available were in direct sunlight and it was 80-degrees. Much too hot to sit in the sun and it was also during peak lunch time (around 2pm) so everything was full. 

By now, I was getting cranky as I was tired from lack of sleep due to my noisy neighbors and the sun just seemed hotter than usual, so I picked up some empanadas from Brozziano’s and returned to my air-conditioned apartment.

My time in Buenos Aires has been very slow and on the verge of being lazy, but now that I have less than a week left, I feel the need to fill my remaining days with activity. I took a cool shower and laid down for a nap with plans to go out for dinner, but I neither napped nor went back out.

That night, I opened the door to the balcony and let the cool air flow through. While lying in bed, I could hear the life of the city, and it was wonderful. It was 10pm, and I heard people in the neighboring apartments talking and laughing while kids played, dishes clanking as dinner ended, and in the distance traffic hummed. I felt connected and very much present.

 Day Eighteen

Feria de Recoleta bazaar

Instead of walking the 2.5 miles from my apartment to Museo Nacional de Bellas Arte, I took an Uber. For the 15-minute drive, it cost around $4 usd. I think I tipped the driver more than what the trip cost. 

Across the street from the museum, was Feria de Recoleta, an open-air bazaar with handmade arts & crafts. I had read about it online and that it was popular with tourists, so I strolled through the booths, marveling at everyone’s creativity.

I bought a black and white photo of Café Tortoni (which is where I had drinks with Ale on my 3^rd day here) taken by a photographer named Sebastian. I tried to talk to him a little bit, but he didn’t speak English and my Spanish was lacking. I wanted to ask if he posted his pictures on Instagram, but the two or three times I strolled past his area, he was sitting with several other men, and I was too embarrassed to approach. I also bought a small red leather coin purse and a beautiful handmade leather purse by other local artists. In hindsight, I wish I’d have bought more artwork. There were some beautiful paintings that would have looked fantastic on my walls.

Floralis Generica

I spent about an hour and a half wandering around the bazaar before heading across the street to the museum. It was a small museum, and admission was free. I was happily surprised by what I found inside: artwork by Edgar Degas, Paul Gauguin, and Manet, to name a few, and there was even a Van Gogh painting (Le Moulin de la Galette 1886)!

After the museum, I walked in the direction of my apartment but took my time enjoying the beautiful day. It was 67-degrees, warm, and breezy; very different from the scorching 80-something degrees of yesterday.  

Floralis Generica is a steel and aluminum sculpture in Plaza de la Naciones Unidas. It was a gift to the city by the Argentine architect Eduard Catalono. Catalano describes the flower as “a synthesis of all the flowers and, at the same time, a hope reborn every day at opening.” It was created in 2002 and was designed to move, closing its petals in the evening and opening them in the morning.

Plaza Alemania

I stopped at Museo de arte de latin America, but I couldn’t purchase tickets there. I had to buy them online. General admission was only $8. I tried to buy a ticket online but couldn’t figure out the site as it was in Spanish. Trying to navigate the site was frustrating and after a few minutes, I decided it wasn’t worth the stress. I visited the museum’s tiny giftshop and bookstore and then moved on.

Plaza Alemania is a square located in Palermo. It houses the monument-fountain of Argentine Agricultural Wealth, which the German community gave to the Argentine people in celebration of the Centennial of the May Revolutions. The monument has enormous figures that represent agriculture, livestock, and the cultural imprint of Germany in Argentina.

I walked almost 6 miles before reaching my apartment. The blisters on my feet were hurting and I was too tired to go out for dinner, so I cooked up some pasta, elevated my legs and watched TV. However, later that night I went over to Shawn’s apartment, and we watched “Deadpool and Wolverine”.

Another great day in Buenos Aires.

Day Nineteen

Lunch at Chori

I woke up with grand plans to take an Uber to San Telmo to an even bigger street bazaar and to see 9 de Julio Avenue, the world’s widest avenue, but it was raining. I’m lazy on most days, but rainy days make it worse so, regrettably, I didn’t go. 

A few hours later, the rain stopped so I walked to Chori for lunch. Chori was one of the stops on the food tour I had taken. I ate a Chori de Cancha (sausage sandwich with chimichurri). As a small bite during the food tour, I thought it delicious, but as entire sandwich, it was too dry with too much bread and not enough sauce.

Deliciousness!

Since the weather had cleared, I kept walking around Palermo and ended up at an outdoor mall, Distrito Arcos Premium Outlet. At the Puma shoe store, there was a long line outside the door. I think they were having a 50% off sale, but it seemed like a lot of people gathered just for a sale. I glanced inside, thinking there might be an event with a famous athlete who was responsible for the crowd, but it appeared to be only shoppers.

I window-shopped but the stores seemed no different than in the United States. I just wanted to get some steps in for the day. On the way back to my apartment, I stopped at a snack shop and, surprise! bought several packages of alfajores.

Dinner that night was at Dandy Grill with Shawn. He recommended the tomahawk steak with cheese and spinach sauce and, by far, it was the best meal of my trip. The meat melted in my mouth and the Tiramisu for dessert was scrumptious. It was a comfortable evening for an after-dinner stroll to walk off our dinners – 64-degrees, cool air, scattered clouds, but no rain and no jacket required.

Enjoying great weather and splendid company was the perfect way to end an amazing trip.

Day 20

I awoke tired and sad knowing I was leaving beautiful Buenos Aires today.

Shawn & I at Urbano Cocina

My check out time at my apartment was at 11am, but my flight wasn’t until 9pm, so with my suitcase bumping along behind me, I toddled around the corner to Shawn’s apartment to hangout. We watched “The Creator,” a movie about artificial intelligence that I wasn’t expecting to like but enjoyed very much. 

Afterwards, we went to Urbano Cocina California for lunch. I had a salmon salad, but the fish was dry. This meal ranked as the worst of my trip and unfortunately, it was my last meal in Buenos Aires.

During the ride to Buenos Aires Airport, it rained heavily and there was lots of traffic. I had plenty of time before my flight, so I welcomed the delay. It gave me a chance to see the city outside of Palermo. It took a little over an hour to reach the airport and I still had about four hours left until my flight, so I shopped for souvenirs. I bought a few, including a replica Lionel Messi jersey, which ended up being too small after I tried it on when I got home, but at least I now have a jersey. 

Maneuvering through the airport was easy enough, but when I went through the metal detector at security, it beeped. I think it was rigged to flag foreigners, because while waiting in line, the airport agent asked me if I was ‘American’ and then directed me to a certain lane. The woman in front of me was also a foreigner and sent to the same line. Coincidence? I think not, but after a quick pat-down I was free to go.

Airport artwork

At a kiosk directly across from my gate, I bought a bottle of water. I had drunk it and was about halfway through my refill when it was time to board the plane. Over the intercom, I heard an announcement in Spanish. I understood the word “Agua,” meaning water, but nothing else so I didn’t pay attention.

Prior to boarding, airport agents checked everyone’s carry-on bags. When the agent found my bottle of water, she asked if I spoke Spanish. When I told her “No,” she held up my water and rudely told me I wasn’t allowed to bring it on the plane. I told her I bought it at the kiosk, which was about 50-feet behind her, but that didn’t matter.  

I was irritated by both her attitude with me because I didn’t understand Spanish and the fact that I couldn’t bring water on a long-haul flight, so I took the bottle from her and chugged down a good portion of it while maintaining eye-contact with her. It was probably more water than I should have drunk at one time, because my stomach hurt afterward, but by the look on her face, I could tell she wasn’t happy with my impudence, however, I felt vindicated. Sidenote: The airlines did provide water on the flight, although I didn’t drink as much as I would have if I had had my own bottle, but at least it was available.

For the in-flight dinner, I chose steak over chicken, hoping it would be like the steak at Dandy’s, but it was dry, flavorless and bordering on disgusting. Luckily, I had some leftover empanadas in my bag that I had eaten earlier while waiting at the airport, so I wasn’t that hungry. Breakfast was French toast, which was just okay. Airplane food sucks and I don't know why they can't make it better. All it takes is a little seasoning. 

My harmless little jar of dulce de leche

My connecting flight was again in Houston, and I arrived with plenty of time to pick up my luggage and go through a modified security check point. Unfortunately, the jar of Dulce de Leche I had in my carry-on that was allowed on the plane in Buenos Aires, wasn’t allowed in my carry-on from Houston to Salt Lake City.

I had debated about which bag to pack it in, but thought it safer in my carry-on, however, that was the wrong decision. I wasn’t about to dispose of it because it cost me almost $8! I lied and told the agent “They” told me I would be allowed to bring it on the flight as a carry-on. 

One last empanada

When she asked who "they" were and I told them they were the agents at the airport in Buenos Aires, she responded that they’ll say anything. I thought that an odd comment to make and wondered if she had ever met any agents from that airport. Probably not. It seems the majority of TSA Agents I’ve interacted with (on this trip and others) are always rude.

The agent wouldn't allow me to take my own jar back to the unsecured part of the airport, so I had to wait for a 2nd agent to arrive. I laughed when the 2nd agent went to grab the jar and the 1st agent pulled it away and told her to put gloves on first. I wanted to tell her that that was a bit of security overkill, and it was only caramel sauce, not a bomb, but thought that might get me sent to the strip search room, so as hard as it was, I kept my comments to myself. 

When I returned to the counter to check in my jar, I had some fun with it. I placed the jar on the counter and told the clerk I had to check this in as part of my luggage. Since my suitcase had already been checked and sent through the bowels of the airport to wherever luggage goes, she looked at me, at the jar and then at me again. She was clearly confused as to how to check in a single jar. I shrugged and watched her face as she struggled with what to do, but then she saw my carry-on and said I had to check my entire bag, which I didn’t mind because it gave me more legroom on the cramped flight home.

The view flying into SLC

To get to my gate, I had to return through security, but because I was wearing a baggy hoody, I was patted down again. The agent was so unsafe in her techniques that when I moved my arm, I nearly elbowed her in the face. I can only imagine what would have happened had I accidentally hit her.

The entire episode at the Houston airport was ridiculous and now I understand why TSA Agents are always angry. They make their own jobs harder by the way they go about doing it. Work smarter not harder!

I landed in Salt Lake City on time. It was 72-degrees, but the air quality was horrible due to the Yellow Lake Fire burning in the Uintah’s. All the smoke had settled over the city and made it difficult to breath. Although I was still in the Uber on my way home, I was already thinking about where to go next. 

Maybe somewhere tropical. Won't you join me?

This was a life-changing adventure for me. Each day as my confidence grew, I learned to trust in myself. I realized I am capable and, although it might be scary at first, stepping outside my comfort zone is a good thing and can lead to amazing adventures. I am eager to travel again and see what the future brings now that I know I can do it with or without someone by my side. 

I loved the city's energy and beauty, but I think what I found so attractive about Buenos Aires, was that it was actually a reflection of myself, of the woman I had become in those three short weeks. And I admit, by the end of my trip, I was feeling a bit of a badass. 

To follow me on my journey and to see more photos, visit me on Instagram and Facebook. 

To follow Shawn on his world adventures visit him on Instagram.

Interested in staying in Babel Arcos in Buenos Aires? Visit here.

Selfie in front of Eduard Manet's
The Surprised Nymph at the
Museo Nacional de Bellas Arte

Random graffiti on a street corner in Buenos Aires

Plaza Alemania

Artwork created from toys at Distrito
Arcos Premium Outlet Mall

Waiting to go home and 
listening to all the announcements
in Spanish that I didn't
understand :)

¡Bienvenido a Buenos Aires! Part Five

Introduction: This blog entry is continuing with my adventure to Buenos Aires, Argentina. I thought this might be my last entry about my trip, but there will be at least one, maybe two, more. I am enjoying sharing my journey to one of South American's most beautiful cities with you and I hope it inspires you to travel, whether it be to a destination a thousand miles away, or to a new place just down the street. As always, thanks for reading. 

Day Eleven

Beethoven's 6 Pastoral Symphony Statue

My itinerary was flexible and whatever I did for the day was based solely on how I felt when I woke up. This morning, I felt energized, so I took a 1.25 mile walk to Jardín Botánico Carlos Thays.

The day was beautiful as I wandered through the gardens taking photos, birdwatching and wishing I had brought my sketch book.

Carlos Thays Botanical Garden was designed by French architect and landscape designer Carlos Thays in 1898. It has three distinct landscape gardening styles - the symmetric, the mixed, and the picturesque, recreated in the Roman, French, and Oriental gardens. In 1996, the garden was declared a national monument. 

Carlos Thays Botanical Garden

It is a little over 17 acres with approximately 5,500 species of plants, trees and shrubs, five greenhouses, as well as 33 artistic works including sculptures, busts, and monuments. Thays and his family lived in an English style mansion located within the gardens between 1892 to 1898. The mansion, built in 1881, is currently the main building of the complex. 

 Not far from the gardens was Museo Evita.

María Eva Duarte de Perón was an Argentine politician, activist, actress, and philanthropist who served as First Lady of Argentina, from June 1946 until her death in July 1952, as the wife of Argentine President Juan Perón.

Unfortunately, I thought the Evita Museum small and boring.

I connected my phone to the museum's website so I could listen to an audio tour, but I didn't have my earbuds. Each time I moved my phone, the audio cut out and I'd have to scan the QR code and start all over. I didn't even know which room I was supposed to be in while listening to the audio anyway, so by the third or fourth time I was disconnected, I gave up. 

Most of the signage was in Spanish and I grew tired of having to use Google Translate at every exhibit, so I wandered through the museum not knowing what anything was. However, there was a video with English subtitles I enjoyed watching and her dresses that were on display were pretty, but I wasn’t allowed to photograph them, and they were the only things worth photographing. The entrance fee was 7,500 pesos, about $7.40 usd. 

I did meet another couple, sort of. There were two couples who came in together shortly after me and I heard them talking English with one of them telling the clerk at the ticket counter she was from Los Angeles.

As they caught up to me in the museum, I attempted to make small talk by asking where they were from and letting them know I live in Utah. One couple simply ignored me and walked away, while the other man curtly responded, “California” and followed after the first couple. The other woman said she was from Australia but lives in Oregon. And that was the extent of our conversation. 

When I come across other travelers who are rude, like these people, they most often end up being from the United States (and usually from California). It's disheartening because Americans are already stereo typed as being arrogant, rude, and entitled and these people I attempted to talk to, perpetuated that image with their outright rudeness.

I, on the other hand, try to be a conscientious traveler. 

I don't expect everyone to speak and understand English. I take the time to learn a few words in whatever the native language is and found that when I try to speak the language regardless of how bad I butcher it, it is appreciated. I travel with an open mind and know that the hotel room, restaurants, customs, etc. won't necessarily be like what I'm used to in the United States. I try to adapt to my surroundings and, as much as I can, act like a local. I wish more American travelers would travel like that, but I think how they act in a foreign country is how they act in America. They're rude and obnoxious regardless of what continent they're on. And it's not that I don't have unfavorable opinions about the country I'm visiting, I just keep them to myself until I get home. 

Okay...let me step down off my soapbox.

After a brief rest in my apartment after my 5-mile walk, I returned to Almacen Pizza for a bite to eat. It was much too early for dinner and too late for lunch, so there was plenty of empty tables at the restaurant. I ordered a Milanga Sandwich – beef Milanese, ham, hardboiled egg, lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise. Delicious! I ranked this meal as one of the best of the trip.

Across the street from the restaurant was a little store that sold soda pop, candy, and snacks. I bought several alfajores for dessert. I love those things! It was an early day as I was back to the apartment, showered, and in my pajamas by 5pm, but around 11:30pm, my neighbors were on their balcony playing their music again and woke me up. Ugh. 

Day Twelve

From all my walking, I've developed big blisters on the bottoms of my feet, and my calves are sore, so today was a rest day. I ate my leftover Milanese sandwich for breakfast and spent the day in bed binge watching “Manifest” on Netflix, reflecting on my trip, writing about my adventures, and looking at all the photos I've taken so far.

Day Thirteen

Time to Tango!

Well, not me specifically, but I have reservations for the Tango Porteño Show, which includes dinner. I didn’t pack any sexy, after dark attire, so I grabbed the cleanest pair of jeans I had from the three pairs I'd packed, slathered on some makeup, wrapped a scarf around my neck and tried to look as presentable as possible. And to be honest, I looked and felt rather cute. 

On the shuttle bus that picked me up to take me to the venue, I was hoping to meet some other people, but they were all couples who only wanted to talk with their partners. Sometimes, in moments like these, I wish I had someone to share these amazing experiences with, but instead of feeling sad, I leaned back and enjoyed the city sights on the way to the theater. It was going to be a good night regardless of whether I was by myself or not. 

Someone once told me it is better to do something alone than not do it at all and have regrets later on. Going on this trip is me embracing that philosophy and, although it's been scary at times, so far, it's all worked out. 

At the venue, I was seated next a Norwegian couple who didn’t even notice I had sat down next to them. Just as I was feeling like a 3^rd wheel, and thought about asking to move tables, another tourist, who also arrived as a single, sat down next to me. He was from Canada and spoke English!

Although conversation with Gianni was great, the dinner and tango show were unfortunately, just average. 

Gianni & I

Dinner started with empanadas, followed by steak and then a dessert of several different things. I think it was flan, ice cream, chocolate mousse, and maybe cheese (?), but I'm not sure. I couldn't differentiate the tastes. The dessert presentation was nice, but I don't think they paired well with each other.  In the dim light, I thought the ice cream was a bread roll and tried to pick up. 

Dinner felt rushed. I assumed they wanted to clear the dishes before the show started, but the waitress tried to take Gianni's plate before he was even done eating!

There was lots of dancing and some singing, but very little tango and that is what I had come to see. I was also seated towards the back and my view was obstructed by a family of four with the dad holding up his cell phone for a good portion of the evening taking crappy photos and video in the darkened theater. 

Overall, I was disappointed with the experience, but what did I expect for an $87 dinner show? Next time I'll splurge and pay a bit more, but I still had fun and made a new friend.

Day Fourteen

Another day of stepping as I walked 6.3 miles round-trip to El Ateneo Grand Splendid. About a mile of that was me getting lost and having to backtrack. Along with seeing a tango show, visiting this place was at the top of my itinerary.

El Ateneo Grand Splendid is a bookshop in Buenos Aires that was named the “world’s most beautiful bookstore” by National Geographic. The building, designed by Pero and Torres Armengo with ceiling frescoes painted by Nazareno Orlandi, opened in 1919 as a theater with seating for 1,050 people. 

In the late twenties, the theater was converted into a cinema, and in 1929, showed the first sound films presented in Argentina. It was then converted into a bookstore and music shop under the direction of architect Fernando Manzone and in 2007, they sold over 700,000 books. 

I went to each floor and wandered through the rows of books, however the section for books in English was tiny, just a couple of shelves, but I did buy two books by H.G. Wells (The Invisible Man and Island of Dr. Moreau). The downstairs section was devoted entirely to children and the stage area was made into a café where you could enjoy drinks and pastries, but by the time I was done exploring the store, all the tables were full.

Over a million people visit El Ateno Grand Splendid each year.

Later that evening I had a dinner date with Gianni.

We dined at La Pescadorita a few blocks from our apartments as he was also staying in Palermo. I ordered pink salmon with white polenta, Mollet egg and vegetable ragout. It was good to have fish as I hadn't eaten any since I arrived in Buenos Aires, and it's mostly what I eat at home. I was having fish withdrawals! We shared two salads – one with couscous and the other a more traditional lettuce salad. For dessert, we shared chocolate cake with roasted hazelnuts and ice cream.

La Pescadorita Restaurant

The entire dinner was delicious and ranked among the Top 3 meals I’ve had so far on this trip, plus the company was enjoyable.

Day Fifteen

I woke up with a stuffy nose and a scratchy throat from allergies. Tall, blooming trees line the sidewalks of Palermo and when the breeze blows, the air is filled with their flowers. After two weeks of inhaling pollen, as well as secondhand cigarette smoke, it's no surprise I got sick.

I knew a walk around the city would be my cure and I set off that afternoon in search of a bakery, but I enjoyed walking, so I didn't bother to stop anywhere. However, after only about 1.5 miles, I ran into Gianni who was also out sightseeing. We bought a nice bottle of wine and spent a few hours in conversation before I returned to my apartment to get ready for tonight’s food tour.

Picsa Restaurant

I met our guide, Tony, and the others at Picsa Restaurant about 6:30pm

Victoria and Alex, a 30-something couple from London, were working on visiting 40 countries by the time they turned 40. They were friendly and engaging, especially Victoria.

The other couple were young, maybe in their late 20s or early 30s. He was from Ireland and did most of the talking. The woman, who was from Calgary, had very little interest in speaking to anyone in the group. Whenever someone asked her a question, she would give one- or two-word answers, but mostly she wouldn’t answer at all and defer to the Irish man. At first, I thought she was introverted, but as the night progressed, I thought her behavior rude because at no point did, she try to interact with any of us.

Tortilla at Paquito

We started our food tour at Picsa sampling roasted red peppers with red onions spread on focaccia bread. A fried beef empanada followed, and we washed it all down with red wine. A good start to the tour.

At Paquito, we ate fritters filled with goat cheese and a tortilla filled with potato and egg, which was my favorite taste of the night. When Tony ordered us a “tortilla” I thought of the flat flour tortillas I eat at home. I was a bit disappointed, thinking I came all this way for a tortilla? but when it arrived, and we cut into it…delicious!

Sausage sandwiches were on the menu at Chori Papa, but my least favorite food on the tour was at Voro Steak House. We sampled a sliver of sausage and a slice of beef, but the steak was so tough I had a hard time swallowing it. I didn’t bother finishing the small amount we were given because it was that bad.

To end the tour, we had ice cream at Antiche, which was fresh and creamy since it was made on-site. There were so many good flavors to choose from, but I had salted caramel cream with a sweet and salty peanut crunch.

We all sat around a table together and sampled each other’s ice cream, however, when I asked the woman who hadn’t spoken to any of us all night if she wanted to sample my ice cream, she gave a curt “no” and when everyone else offered up their ice creams for a tasting, she didn’t partake.

Ice cream at Antiche Tentazioni

Our food tour ended after 9pm and I found myself alone and about seven blocks from my apartment. I was apprehensive about walking at night by myself and thought of calling an Uber, but the streets were crowded as the dinner rush was still going strong. 

I stuck to the busier and well-lit streets and saw lots of women out on their own. That gave me confidence for being out after dark and, although I was a bit afraid, I enjoyed the evening and made it back to my apartment just fine.

Carlos Thays Botanical Garden

Plaza Inmigrantes de Armenia, Palermo
(Place for Immigrants from Armenia)

Thank you for following along on my journey and stay tuned as the next, and hopefully final, installment will be published within the week.

¡Bienvenidos a Buenos Aires! Part Four

Introduction: The moment my Uber driver pulled over in front of my Airbnb and I set foot on the bustling streets of Buenos Aires, I was struck by an overwhelming sense of excitement and anticipation.

This blog is a continuation of the time I spent in one of South America’s most beautiful cities. I hope you continue this journey with me and enjoy reading about it as much as I loved living it. As always, thanks for reading.

Day Eight

I accompanied Shawn on his afternoon errands so I could get out and explore the city. While he shopped for protein powder, I stood on the street corner and watched the world go by.

To the naked eye it could have been any corner in any part of the world with traffic backed up at the light, an ambulance threading its way through the intersection with flashing lights and blasting siren, and with people hustling along the sidewalks to places only they knew, but for me, there was something extraordinary about this place. Something authentic.

I was in Buenos Aires, the “City that never sleeps” and although I love to sleep, I knew I could still make this place my home and be happy here.

Panqueque de dulce de leche

When Shawn finally emerged from the store, we continued our walk. Eventually we stopped for dessert at Las Petunia’s, a casual restaurant not far from our apartments. Panqueque de dulce de leche (a blini with dulce de leche) for me and a brownie with vanilla ice cream for him.

The thick, sugary caramel-like dulce de leche sauce was smooth and tasty and satisfied my sweet-tooth, but with all the alfajores I’d eaten – and continued to eat through the remainder of my trip – I should have been more concerned about diabetes, but I wasn’t. At that moment, my only thought was not letting any of that delicious blini go to waste!

Along with the few places I wanted to visit, my itinerary also included eating a lot of food. I lost some weight before my trip, because I knew I was going to return home fatter than when I had left. However, I gained just 3 lbs. during my trip, a lot less than expected, but my walking 5-6 miles a day probably helped keep my weight gain to a minimum.

The food and drink scene in Buenos Aires has exploded over the past decade and I had a list of popular foods I wanted to sample, like empanadas and dulce de leche. By the end of my stay, I would have eaten all the food on my list several times over.

Shawn and I at Las Petunia's.

However, there is so much more to this beautiful city than the food. I told myself I would share those photos too, however, that night when Shawn and I went to dinner at Dandy Grill, what did I do? Post more food pictures on Facebook, but how could I not? The tender steak with cheese and caramelized onions was so good!

I thought I was getting good at ordering food in Spanish, but when I attempted to say “carmelizado” I completely butchered it. I couldn’t form my tongue properly to roll the “r”. I’m not even sure how I pronounced it, maybe something like, “carmel-lia-lizardo” but the waiter, Shawn, and I had a pretty good laugh over it.

During the day, the energy of the city was more controlled with people moving with a purpose, however, at night the mood was joyful and light as people enjoyed drinks and a meal together. Almost every restaurant had some form of outdoor seating along the sidewalk. Often, you had to walk through the middle of the tables to get past, and for that brief moment, you became part of the festivities.

As the sun set, I heard the city coming alive.

The clinking of silverware on plates, the din of conversation, the occasional outburst of laughter, even the rev of a motorcycle or car horn made me feel connected. Even though I was a stranger and couldn’t understand their language that was okay, because there was something intangible, but pure, about it. Not only did that make me feel as if I was a part of it, but that I also contributed to it somehow. 

As I walked alongside Shawn in the dark, trying hard not to trip over the uneven pavement, I wondered if anyone could see my euphoric spirit burning bright in the night.

Day Nine

I went for a walk.

Not a big deal, but this time I did it alone, so it was a big deal for me. I had built up such a fear in my mind that I was terrified of doing anything by myself, but I needed to. I wanted to experience the city as only I could, and I did! 

Knowing that I could go out, walk the streets, order food, buy groceries, and exist in a foreign country gave me such a confidence boost.

However, since this was my first time exploring by myself, I stayed within my neighborhood and practiced crossing streets. That seems silly, but here, pedestrians don’t have the right-a-way. Even when the figure of a running man lit up to signal it was safe to cross, it wasn’t. Cars still drove through the crosswalk whether I was walking there or not. I didn’t just have to look ‘both ways’ like how I was taught as a child, but in every direction imaginable. 

My head was on a swivel and by the end of the day, my neck hurt.

Pedidosya, food delivery similar to GrubHub and Uber Eats, is done mostly on motorcycles and bicycles. Sometimes they jetted in the wrong direction down the one-way streets because it was quicker than driving around the block, so I never knew in which direction traffic was coming. Even standing on the sidewalks wasn’t safe as motorcycles often hopped the curb to park in front of the restaurants in which they were picking up the food.

Many of the smaller intersections didn’t have signal lights or stop signs. Whichever car reached the intersection first, went, and everyone else had to yield, but that didn’t always happen. There was a lot of honking horns and near misses. So, imagine trying to dart across the street where cars don’t even stop for other cars!

After a trying hour of crossing streets, I stopped at Almacen Pizza (Pizza Warehouse) for sustenance. I ordered in Spanish and surprisingly, the waitress understood me. There weren’t any difficult words I had to pronounce while ordering pizza. No surprise, the pizza was good with eight slices of four different kinds: Neapolitan, arugula with Brie, ham and bell peppers, and asparagus with hard-boiled eggs.  Although my friend Christy didn't consider it a "real pizza" when she saw the photos on Facebook. However, authentic or not, it was delicious!

Pizza at Almacen Pizza

One of the things I noticed, and enjoyed while eating out in Buenos Aires, was that the waitstaff never made me feel rushed. Every dining experience was casual with the waitstaff giving me a menu and then not returning to my table until I signaled to them that I was ready to order. I could sit and enjoy my food for as long as I wanted and when I was finally ready to leave, I’d signal for the check, and they’d bring it.

In the United States, I’d often be seated at a table that was still wet from cleaning after the last diner, and I’d get the check before I was even finished with my meal. It was all about getting as many customers through as possible in the shortest length of time, but in Argentina, it was about enjoying a delicious meal and having an overall good dining experience regardless of how long it took. I appreciated that attitude and gave much bigger tips than I normally would have done.

The Milanese sandwich
was one of my fav meals!

Later that night, around 7pm, Shawn and I went to Carnico Grill for dinner. It was a small, open-air café with a roll-up door that exposed the entire inside of the restaurant to the outdoors. I ordered a Milanese sandwich. It was much better than the Milanese I ate with Alejandro at El Club Milanese several days prior. A short walk after dinner to enjoy more of the nightlife, although there wasn’t much because it was still a bit too early. It was about 8:30pm when I returned to my apartment.

Day Ten

Feeling confident from the previous day’s excursion, I ventured outside my neighborhood and walked to Alto Palermo Shopping Mall, over a 1 ½ miles away. The sidewalks were crowded with pedestrians, and I fell in line with them feeling very much like I belonged.

I had hoped to meet some locals and tried to make eye contact and smile at those I passed, but no one paid me any attention. Maybe it was because they had places to be, since it was during the noon hour, and didn’t have the time, maybe I blended in and looked too much like a local, or perhaps nobody cared about the lone American woman walking through downtown.

Whatever the reason, I was happy to be swept up in the midday crowd. 

Alto Palermo is one of the most prominent urban shopping malls in Buenos Aires. It opened in 1990 and features 190 retail stores and a food court with seating from more than 700 people. It had lots of high-end stores, like Swarovski and Versace, with prices that mirrored those in the United States. There were many big-brand stores, like Columbia, Vans, and Oakley, that I recognized, but a lot of smaller specialty stores I’d never heard of.

Observation: They don’t use plastic straws. While at the mall, I bought a coke at McDonalds but wasn’t given a straw. At first, I thought it an oversight, but as I looked around at the other people, none of their drinks had straws either. I’d rather have no straw than those disgusting tasting paper straws some places give out back home, so I didn’t mind drinking straight from my cup. Imagine how much unnecessary waste would be saved from the landfills if all straws were discontinued?

The women of Buenos Aires have style, and it was very easy to determine their societal status by the clothes they wore. I, on the other hand, felt, and probably looked, ridiculous in my flannel shirt. I can’t recall seeing any other person wearing flannels during my trip, except at the airport in Houston, but I didn’t have much in the way of light-weight clothes, so I wore what I brought. Note to self: next time, leave the flannel shirt at home.

I am horrible with directions. 

Even using the GPS on my phone, I took a wrong turn when I left the mall. I finally realized I was going in the wrong direction, but it was such a beautiful day (71-degrees, sunny, with a cool breeze) for a walk, I didn’t care. If I got too lost and strayed too far from my apartment, I could call an Uber and they’d take me home. Because of my misdirection, my casual walk to the mall turned into a 6.69-mile trek! I’d taken over 17,000 steps for the day.

For dinner, I picked up some baked empanadas to-go from Brozziano, an empanada place only a few blocks from my apartment which quickly became my go-to place during my trip. I tried several different kinds, but ham and cheese were my favorite.

Alto Palermo Mall

My cute flannel shirt!

Delicious empanadas.

The trees lining the sidewalks
are beautiful.