What’s outside the touristy & fancy bubble of Buenos Aires?

Our B&B in Buenos Aires was a massive palatial house with four floors and many, many rooms. Built in the early 1900s, I could picture people walking around dressed in their elaborate Downtown Abbey like dresses, drinking wine and making merry. The owner was a Tango Dancer who had purchased this place with plans of turning it into a Tango Dance Studio cum Hotel, but still lived outside the country. How marvellous and authentic I thought! Let’s go!

This was the last leg of out 10 day Argentina Trip. The first few days in Buenos Aires were fun and sunny, spent around the Obelisk, walking around, eating yummy Empanadas & Milanesas, Even sipping great Cortados, and soaking up the energy. While this last leg was gloomy and rainy. *And* was 2.5 kms south of the Obelisk (Near San Telmo)

It’s Buenos Aires after all! How bad can it be!

So we arrived. There were two massive 20’ tall doors and we were warmly welcomed by an energetic student who was house sitting. Come in! Here’s the map! Here are your keys and here are the instructions to use em! We dumped our bags and immediately ran to the closest restaurant to eat. It was dinner time and we ordered Risotto and Goulash. 

It was terrible. and stale. Nothing like the stuff we savoured in the restaurants around the obelisk.

We got back “home” and fumbled with the keys and the elaborate process of getting indoors for a bit. We got in- yay! Only to be stuck at the bedroom door. We turned the key twice but the door wouldn’t budge.

Maybe it’s the wrong key? Let’s call the house sitters. But they were gone. and the number they had given us was unreachable too. It was 9 pm after all.

huh. We waited. Turned the keys again, and again, for twenty times.

          It can’t be the wrong key if it turns- right? Shall we push hard on the door?

          “No! what if it falls off!”

          Right.

          after 15 mins:

          “lets just effing push hard!”

and we did. the door opened…and surprise surprise..it didn’t break!

Then we fumbled with doors and the door knobs came off… Taps wouldn’t work… Lights kept flickering…The TV didn’t have cable to watch the match. While my 4 year old loved exploring the huge place, I couldn’t help wondering how much would it cost to do the whole place up.  

This area was apparently abandoned by the rich long ago, fleeing from a bout of yellow fever. They settled a bit north of the city in the now richer areas such as Recoleta. Which explained all the dilapidated yet admirable old fashioned architecture.

While we spent all day walking around, we finally spotted a toy car in a shop window (We’d forgotten to pack any toys!). The shop was open, but the grill door was closed. We were about to walk away when an old lady peered out through the grill asking (in Spanish) “what do you want?”

          “we want that toy car- how much is it?”

          “49 pesos”

         “Uh. do you accept dollars?”

          No!

          Credit cards?

          No, sorry.

My husband took out his wallet to count the remaining pesos he had. There was no exchange place in sight. 

          “10-20-30… I have 40 pesos”

          “oh good! you can have the toy for 40 pesos then”

We were thrilled. Stupid Indian mentality, always happy to find a bargain! (So what if it was a toy that should've been actually priced at 10 pesos!)

We paid her while she gave us the toy- all through the space between the grills!

This was in broad daylight. Normal working hours. Only a block away from the main 9 de Julio Avenue, and only 2.5 kms south from the Obelisk. 

Is Buenos Aires like Detroit? I remember being told stories that the stores in Detroit were properly locked up after dark. If you wanted to buy something you slid your money in a box into a small hole after which the shop owner slid back the item you want. Or risk being shot by a gun bearing drug addict. 

Huh. Of course it's not like Detroit! We felt pretty safe.... even though the shutters went down by 9.

2.5km NORTH of this place was a complete different story. Swanky architecture and money. Energy still buzzing at late hours. We even changed currency at Midnight! 2.5 kms SOUTH of the Teatro Colón, is old worn out architecture and buying stuff through grilled doors. 

We walked hopelessly, avoiding dog poo, banana peels and puddles regretting the last leg of our trip. We should have left with the memory of the Obelisk in our hearts. Not grill doors, bad weather and jammy doors. But this was real. Shouldn’t we be glad to have experienced the real stuff? Outside the tiny touristy & fancy bubble of the large metropolitan?

Here are some pictures of the place we spent our last two nights in:

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Until later! Stay in touch!

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