I’m a ham and cheese whore named Evita…

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I’m a ham and cheese whore named Evita…

I am 100% convinced that, in my past life, I WAS Evita Peron….

Buenos Aires. Love it. I’m easily obsessed with this country, more so now that I’m in Buenos Aires.
The 20 hour bus ride was uneventful, 3 meals of…you guessed it….ham and cheese sandwiches in some incarnation.
Breakfast: ham and cheese with a crossaint and coffee.
Lunch: “Lunchable” type ham and cheese white bread with the crusts cut off packages sandwiches.
Dinner: Ham and cheese with melba toast, olive oil and bread to make…um, yeah…sandwiches. But, I’m into it. Forget turkey on seven grain with tomato and honey mustard. I’m ALL about jamon y queso. Any way you want to give it to me, I’m all over it. (Cher, I know I’ve always given you shit about your pork chop fetish. Yeah, well…I take it back. B/c I’m SO blue-collar-in-a-lunchbox ham and cheese, it’s SCARY.)

Anyway….I’m in BA now. And love it. LOVE IT. If Bariloche was great, this is super fantastic.
How can I explain Buenos Aires?
A little bit of Paris (a million plazas and parks and open spaces, an obsession with fashion and being posh), a little bit of NYC (the restaurants, the shopping, the fast-paced atmosphere, the cityness of it, the clubs and lounges) and a little bit of Barcelona (the ports, the water, the bar/restaurant area that is always happening right on the port) and a little bit of South America thrown in for good measure. That’s about right, but not exactly. You have to come here to experience it. And, I highly advise it. It’s my favorite place, so far. Buenos Aires is full of life, energy, passion. Buenos Aires is full of itself. Buenos Aires is an eclectic mix of people, cultures, politics and classes. It’s heaven on earth. I’ve been here for 3 full days, and I can’t imagine EVER wanting to leave.

My friend Leslie, from Harper was here with her husband, Josh for the last few days. And it was SOOO nice to see them. They are the first Americans I’ve seen yet! Do you believe that? THE FIRST. And it was bliss. Of course, after getting here on Wednesday, I set out to conquer Recoleta, where many of the tourists stay (including me), full of fancy shops (Fendi, YSL, Louis Vuitton), hotels (Four Seasons, Sofitel, Alvaer), etc…. The city is peppered with plazas of grass, interspersed with shops, always teeming with people. That night, Leslie and Josh took me to Palermo, another neighborhood, north of Recoleta that is divided into Palermo Soho and Palermo Hollywood. The easiest way to explain it is — East and West Villages. Young, hip types live here, lots of restaurants and boutique shopping. I think, initially, when Josh and Leslie got to my hotel and I pounced on Leslie, Josh might’ve been a little taken aback. While I LOVE every minute of my time, meeting people…it was SO nice NOT to have to talk about why I decided to take this trip, where I’m going, where my boyfriend is, what my old job used to be, how old I am, etc.. etc.. etc… BLISS. We went to Casa Cruz, a wonderful trendy restaurant in Palermo Hollywood that reeked ‘of-the-moment’ and I embraced every ounce of it wholeheartedly. When I saw tuna tartar on the menu (though I didn’t order it) I knew Leslie loved me a lot and knew JUST WHAT I needed a dose of. A great meal, I probably talked too much, but didn’t care and was happy to be with them.

Day two brought more exploring. I headed out to the Casa Rosado, or as you all know it, the palace from which Evita sings “Don’t Cry For Me Argentina” and man, did I channel her, standing there. In my head, I was all Madonna-ing my ass off, one hand raised to my general public, the other holding my laced, veiled hat in place. An imaginary moment on the Plaza Mayor. All mine. Savored. Then, reality hit, and I was back in $30 Urban Outfitter gaucho pants and a wife beater, holding a camera and a backpack and returning to my very comfortable state of traveling schlub. Mmmmm….. Anyway, I went through a good amount of the city, seeing the sites which are all amazing. There’s a million balconies here, mixed with Gaudi architechture and a touch of modernity. It’s eye-candy to walk around. And, yes….shopping. I may be travel Marie here on this little adventure, but my heart belongs to AmEx. And in 24 hours, I managed to buy 3 bags (aaaah, the leather here), 3 pairs of shoes, 5 shirts, 1 skirt, a belt, numerous tchotchkes for the home and other crap….HAPPILY. I’ve been “browsing” for just the right leather jacket, bargain-shopping it out, if you will. I also have discovered antiquing. I found this unbelievable Jaeger couture clock from 1920 which is being “transported” to me via a commercial pilot who flies from Argentina to NY in the next month. You pay him cash on arrival because customs denies many of the $$ items that stores try to ship to the States b/c of the exchange rate. So, I am working on blackmarket shopping now. More to come on that front when an Argentinian pilot rings my bell for cash one day soon in NY……and hands me a clock. My doorman will deny him, after ALL of that. Watch….

I LOVE BA, did I say that already? After all the shopping, I went to the Four Seasons to do what was MOST necessary. Mani, pedi, etc…. 1 month, no pampering…..what’s a girl to do? Check into the spa at the Four Seasons… duh! And, it was only $65. Are they on CRACK? Wonderful. Wonderful. Wonderful. Meanwhile, the funny thing is, or maybe not funny, but interesting is that, I’ll meet many other travelers and love hanging out with them bc those are the best nights I have. Just easy, fun, down-to-earth nights. No pretense, no bullshit. But, I’ll bust out the antique silver bracelets I bought that afternoon, with my little Gucci clutch and return to my “hotel, not hostel” and sleep in my king size bed. And, on other nights, I’ll go to some fantastic restaurant, and meet a doctor, and have lovely drinks at the Ritz, but the night before I was in a Patagonia fleece tied around my waist listening to a band at the local pub with people who don’t own razors and think growing facial hair is an international contest. It’s a fine line to walk, and I take a lot of shit for it. And I’m aware that I’m always walking it, but it’s … if nothing else, lends contrast to the whole experience, and keeps me ME. Just a random thought … especially here. B/c I like being fancy here, but the more interesting people ARE NOT the people you find in the Four Seasons. (Except Josh and Leslie, obv….)

Anyway . . . we went to see a Tango Show, night two. But, it’s a tourist trap. A woman who looked like Michele Hanft with black hair sang the whole damn time. It should’ve been called the Michele Hanft look-a-like show, instead of the Tango Show at the Cafe Tortoni. The best tango can be found on the streets, in the plazas, in places you don’t expect. NOT the shows. Today, in La Boca (another neighborhood, characterized by the buildings painted bright bright colors which you’ll see in the pix I’m about to send), I tango-ed myself a ditty or two. Might’ve even been decent at it. CERTAINLY better than the Aussie couple that were doing their best to 1-2 to the beat, but might as well have been saying 1-5 in their heads. Very fun….

And tonight, went to another Hanft recc called Cabana de Las Lilas for steak and FEASTED b/c my NZ and Aussie backpacker friends went to like Chinese take out and … nah. Met them after, at 4 AM!!! What???? I eat like a 250 lb linebacker here in S America. A Brit at the next table was like — have you eaten in a year, you’re a little girl and you ordered a ribeye, potatoes, an antipasto plate to start AND dessert. Yeah, so what of it, mate?!?!?!?! I can’t get enough.

Yeah, welcome to Buenos Aires. Don’t cry for me, kids….I’m doing JUST FINE.

xoxoxo

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