Return to Buenos Aires

Photos:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=200345&id=510568119&l=310f15c9dd

I first visited Buenos Aires a few years ago and I've been looking forward to coming back ever since. Putting this entry's photo album together I was surprised that the pictures aren't more colourful and vibrant as that's how I've always remembered the city, but maybe seeing it as part of this longer trip has altered my perspective. Don't get me wrong, I still love BA - it's European elegance infused with the Latin American spirit and the seedy passion of the tango make it the most intriguing city I've ever visited. But looking at the place through more cycnical, travel hardened eyes, I realised with some disappointment that a fair bit of what I thought was the "Buenos Aires experience" is cleverly cultivated for the tourists. Yes, the Caminito is a riot of colour and spectacle with its multi-hued buildings and tango dancers on every corner, but it's also the Argentinian equivalent of the Tower of London - great for the tourists, but not really representative of the rest of the city...

But what am I being so negative for? Sure there are touristy elements to BA, but I for one loved the seedy glamour of the tango shows, being spooked by all the cats in the gloriously Gothic Recoleta cemetery and sipping lemon soda in Cafe Tortoni. And I got to see a bit of the other side of things as well, joining the crazy die-hard fans at a Boca Juniors game and sampling the finest steak I have ever tasted in the company of BA's business lunchers.

In fact, we got so caught up in all things Porteño that we ended up not only watching tango shows but learning a few steps ourselves. My plan before we got to BA was to impress Rich with the moves of some professional dancers before suggesting that maybe with a few lessons we too could be gliding across the floor looking all sultry and impressive. Unfortunately, the show I picked was something of a let down - the dancing was awful and at one stage the girls were prancing round a darkened stage clad in battery operated flashing feather bowers. Not the sexy, sophisticated look I was going for. Not to be deterred, I booked us into a show at El Viejo Almacen, where I fell in love with the tango during my first trip to the city and where I knew the dancers would be top notch. They didn't let me down, as you can see for yourself:



Suitably inspired, we found ourselves a milonga that also gave lessons to beginners and booked ourselves in. Unfortunately, it was only when the lesson began that we remembered we were in a Spanish speaking country and the milonga we had chosen was for locals rather than tourists. This made for an entertaining couple of hours as our flamboyant cliche of a Latin American tango instructor resorted to manhandling us into the right positions and gesturing wildly that our movements needed to "flow more." After the lesson we caught our breath and watched some couples who were slightly past their first lesson strut their stuff on the dancefloor. I reckon with a few more sessions (in English) we could get the hang of it, and it was a lot of fun. Rich has tentatively agreed to sign up for a course when we get back to the UK so watch this space...