Walk this way (in BsAs)

Buenos Aires, Argentina – 02/01/2009

How to see Buenos Aires in one day and a half? By walking. A lot. Really, a lot.

I arrived yesterday at 15h and, after a small adventure with the dumbest caretaker in the history of dumb caretakers, I managed to take hold of Juancho’s apartment key, a friend of a friend which allowed me to crash at his place even though he wasn’t even there. That’s why there’ll be no hostel reviews in this chronicle either. Anyway, moving on, I left all my stuff in the apartment and proceeded towards Recoleta and its parks. And what parks! The quality and quantity of Buenos Aires’ green spaces, all of them very well taken care of, is downright impressive. Truly in awe, I walked for hours from the Bellas Artes to Plaza Italia, always “on the green”.

El Che

Buenos Aires is a gigantic city and I’m usually not a big fan of such mega-metropolis (London, Madrid, Paris, Santiago, etc.). However, BsAs is a big city which knows how to be big. The ubiquitous presence of green areas and the wideness of its never-ending venues relieve the sense of claustrophobia its millions of inhabitants might cause. Exhausted after the five hour walk I returned to the flat in order to rest and prepare myself to discover Buenos Aires’ nightlife, on the first night of the year, a Thursday.

Prepared myself for nothing, it turned out, as the city was apparently stone dead, it had passed on, that night was no more, it had ceased to be, expired and gone to meet its maker, a stiff, bereft of life it rested in peace… you get the point. Eighty percent of all bars, restaurants and other commercial establishments were closed, and the ones that were open had hardly any clientele. The fact that I didn’t know the city and had only the faintest of ideas about where to go for fun also didn’t help. I walked for what seemed like an eternity to the Palermo neighbourhood only to find nothing. Then I took to San Telmo and, you guessed it, nothing. I ended up eating a hamburger in one of the few open spots in Avenida de Libertad, had myself a Quilmes and took a cab back to Juancho’s flat.

Today I woke up quite early to take care of my return from Patagonia and also to change the date for my return to Montevideo. I was expecting to dedicate several hours to these two tasks, but they turned out to be both quick and efficient. By 13h I was already done with the whole business. Went home, rested, hate and at 15h I was back on the street, to start off what was to be my longest urban walk so far. I took the Subte, the local subway, at Pueyrredon towards Catedral, the heart of downtown Buenos Aires, and, as always, I began wandering about.

I strolled into Plaza de Mayo where I visited the Cathedral, with its distinctive Greek-like columns, snapshot la Casa del Gobierno (the Government House), bought a bottle of overpriced cold water and set out towards the Obelisk, where the South American version of this year’s Dakar Rally was about to start. With the area completely packed with eager locals and tourists but completely devoid of any motos, jeeps, cars or anything else with a motor, I departed towards Retiro. Here I discovered yet another precious urban park, with a view to the Torre de los Ingleses and a statue of Gen. San Martin, the national hero. Following the cue of the slumberous locals I laid down on the grass for an hour-long dozy sunbath. The only moment of rest in the whole afternoon.

Batteries fully charged, I went back to the Obelisk on Av. 9 de Julio to mingle with the crowd and get a few shots of the motorcycles and their respective pilots. Bored to death (motorsports are really not my thing) I moved towards San Telmo through the lovely Florida Street, where I stopped to buy Borges’ “El Aleph” and two tango CDs at the mythical library “El Ateneo”. Must visit. On through calle Florida, then calle Perú and we’re in San Telmo where the bars, restaurants, tango houses, shops and tourists like me multiply themselves. It’s a party neighbourhood, and it shows. Due to my tight schedule I do not have a lot of free to linger around so, suddenly, I find myself entering La Boca, the most famous and troublesome neighbourhood in central Buenos Aires.

Home to the famed Boca Juniors football club and the godlike Maradona, La Boca is more or less what I expected it to be: a poor, very poor, neighbourhood, with a lot of adults livening up the streets, kids playing football virtually everywhere and stone-eyed elders in varying states of decay. But what really stands out, both literally and symbolically, is, of course, La Bombonera. The most famous stadium in South America (compared only to Brazil’s Maracanã) is truly impressive. Its vibrant blue and yellow plays perfectly with the colourful and somewhat derelict houses that surround it, and its striking murals are a mirror of the fierceness and character of the neighbourhood itself. Due to the stubborn non-elastic nature of time I couldn’t go in and visit the stadium, but it really wasn’t needed. The stadium had already left its mark in me.

With La Boca ticked in my checklist I went back downtown, about an hour’s walk or more, and took the metro back to flat to await Juancho’s arrival.

Monte VI de E a O

Montevideo, Uruguay – 29/12/2009

It’s not the first time that this happens to me, but I still can’t explain it.

Be it with cities, movies, women, songs, or whatever else, I can’t explain how certain things, in this case the city of Montevideo, which apparently are not particularly interesting or eye-catching, can fascinate me so much.

The Uruguayan capital is relatively small, at least for the standards of South American capitals, most of its buildings are old and poorly taken care of and the city streets and roads are in a post-apocalyptic state (if you drive, prepare for a “shaky” experience).

Nonetheless, I loved this city from the first moment I saw it. Maybe it’s its never-ending Rambla snaking along side the Mar de la Plata (more brownish, than silver) that appeals to my sea-faring nature, maybe it’s the contrast of beautiful buildings and monuments tarnished and asphyxiated by time and pollution, maybe it’s the incomparable kindness and good humour of the Uruguayans, a smiling, welcoming and generous people has none other.

I don’t know. I can’t explain why and I don’t have to explain why, but Montevideo took my heart with the same bonhomie and tranquillity of its inhabitants, ever since I set foot on it.

Street life

Parque Forestal, Santiago, Chile – 28/12/2008

Jugglers, musicians, artists, magicians, clowns, actors, acrobats, families, groups of youngsters and their bottles of beer and guitars, couples in love, couples seemingly in love, wanderers just like me, beggars, kids, elders, childern, many children, in an explosion of life and activity stuch between the Mapocho river and the avenues beside it. Where before there was nothing nor no one, a whole city of colour, music and a lot of laughter which had been hidden during the morning, who knows where, is born.

There is life in Santiago. My worst fears were unfounded.

Santiago de Chile

Hostal Forestal, Santiago, Chile – 28/12/2008

The day I spent in Santiago can be easily divided into two completely different and well defined halves: the walk around the city centre in the morning and the trip do the Bellavista neighbourhood and the Parque Metropolitano in the afternoon.

My first impression of Santiago was not very positive. At all.

Blame it on it being a Sunday and everything being closed, blame it on being too early and there being no one on the street except for other tourists and blame it on a city centre which has basically no highlights. At all.

Starting with the ending, I would summarise Santiago (or at least its city centre) thusly: Santiago is any other town. There are no outstanding buildings (at least not in a positive sense), the resident statues and monuments could be lying in any unnamed European city and even the local shops and food stands, which usually give a very distinctive character to centre and southern American cities, are basically the same we can find in Europe.

An example?

There are eighteen; I repeat EIGHTEEN, Starbucks just in Santiago’s city centre.

Satisfied?

The best thing about this first excursion into Santiago was definitely lunch, a delicious “escalopa a la napolitana” and an excellent pebre to go with. Fed and extremely bored I came back to the hostel.

The afternoon was a completely different tale. Another time of day, another city, another life. The Bellavista neighbourhood, with its colourful houses and its myriad bars, restaurants, independent theatres and other cultural houses, has quite a vibrant and picturesque personality. Definitely the best of Santiago. At least from what I saw of its main street, bustling with people walking, eating, drinking and selling craftwork, it seemed like some other city which had nothing to do with one I had met before lunch.

Once I went through Bellavista I went up the “Cerro” (the Spanish word for Hill in this side of the word) of the Parque Metropolitano, an urban park of titanic proportions which starts in the Cerro and ends… who knows where?

The view from the Cerro, the highest point in the city I suppose, is overwhelming. Not by its beauty (if there’s an adjective I wouldn’t use for Santiago it’s “beautiful”), but for the incredible vastness of the city. It never ends. Really. You can not see an end to it. It’s all houses, skyscrapers and other buildings from the city centre to the foot of the mountain ranges which surround the Chilean capital.

I’ve never taken so many photos of such an unattractive view. Sitting on a ledge having Mote con Huesillo, a delicious local drink made of peach juice with corn beads in it, I took photo after photo of the infinite urban mantle, permanently covered by a layer of pollution which gives the photos an eerie atmosphere.

If you ask me if I liked Santiago or not, the answer will definitely be very ambiguous. I didn’t find it beautiful and I don’t think it has any sort of unique personality, but there is something about its sheer immensity that impressed me. Whether I like it or not.