Jueves

I’ve been a day behind most of the time, so this is my attempt to catch up. Today (Thursday) was a really slow morning; Anna had an 8 am meeting, and I just went back to sleep right after she left at 7.30. I finally woke up around 9; read for about a half hour, then went downstairs for breakfast (ugh - remember when I said I love buffet breakfasts?). By the time I came back up to the room, Anna was already back and mostly packed; I did the same. Funny how it never fits back in your suitcase the way it did when you left - even though I didn’t buy anything!

Anna took off in a cab; I stashed my baggage (oh, how metaphorical!) at the hotel and headed off on foot for Calle Florida: the major pedestrian shopping zone in Bs As. It was pretty much my worst nightmare. It started off okay in Plaza de San Martin; some okay shops; not too crowded. As the morning wore on into the afternoon, the place got more and more mobbed and I got more and more crabby. This was like North Michigan Avenue the Saturday before Christmas. To make matters worse, all I was seeing was the same crap I’d been seeing the rest of the places I’d walked around. My GOD! More yerba mate vessels! I suffered through that until I reached Avenue de Mayo, when the street opened up and I was able to breathe again. Once here, I walked down to Cafe Tortoni--the oldest continually operating cafe in the city (or something like that)--where a snooty waiter informed me when he saw me looking inside, “No tengo mesas.” Super. I didn’t want your overpriced cafe con leche, anyway. Back I went toward Plaza de Maya, where the Casa Rosada presides in all it’s pink splendor. I caught a nice lunch (more lomo!) before heading to the La Plaza itself.

I had been wanting to come here to see Las Madres de los Desaparecidos, who still to this day march every Thursday at 3.30 in the afternoon; still demanding justice for their children who were kidnapped, tortured, and killed some twenty to thirty years ago. Conservative estimates have the number of desaparecidos at 30,000. I saw a video about this in one of my Spanish classes in high school, and find the whole thing so disturbingly sad (something I need to read up on). The women by now are all very old, and their numbers are certainly dwindling. But they still march in a circle around the plaza, carrying flags and pictures of their children. (Some loser would choke up and shed tears each time the line of women went by - oh wait, that was me...)

Next stop, I walked around La Casa Rosada, which is in the process of being restored in preparation for Argentina’s 200 anniversary of its independence from Spain (as is a lot of the city. Except, apparently, for the area around the National History Museum...) Then I walked back to the hotel (I swear I’ve been averaging 10 miles per day on foot), where I picked up my bags and headed for my new hotel in Las Cañitas. Hooray! My cab driver wasn’t creepy! I adore my new hotel. Let’s just leave it at that. Fantastic location, fantastic amenities, fantastic feel--for Pete’s sake, my room overlooks the private garden in the back, and a lemon and orange (??) tree.

Dinner was at the place down the street from the hotel that Jorge (the nice fellow who handled my reservation) recommended; even dining alone it took an hour and a half! Porteños sure know how to eat.

Tomorrow I plan to explore the Palermo neighborhoods around this hotel; then off to the airport and what I can only optimistically hope will be a pleasant journey through the Miami Airport....