Lazy Domingo

Four hours of sleep and we were back in the game. That being to frolic through the mad Sunday heat and see all that time allowed. We soon forgot the temperature and the few pesos remaining in our possession and wondered into the old world of San Telmo. The market in Plaza Dorrego wielded many trinkets and creative bits for the eyes to behold. Antique dolls, paintings encapsulating tango’s fire and photographs of a time passed adorned the cobbled streets outside the restaurants we longed to eat at.

An old couple clung tightly to each other in a poised stance as a melancholic tune drifted from the speakers. Tango continued to speak as loudly as ever; giving clues into the restrained past of its people and their persistence to maintain their freedom and right to express the passionate nature that characterized them. Little boys insisted we drop a coin per photograph of their accordion playing. A blue, mime couple stood glued to the road whilst being “blown” away by the wind only they felt. Further down the little alley, an artist maneuvered his “drunken” marionette to stumble and fall.

The only time a cab driver will misunderstand you and take the long way around, is when you have next to nothing to pay him with. Graciously and quite far from Archie’s Place , we evicted ourselves from his cab and thankfully found the underground subte still open. The night ushered in our first Spanish teatro experience. A local actor took us to a drama called “Bread of the craziness”. Sure there was sufficient craziness that ultimately ended in death of all the citizens who ate the bread. We failed to understand a single Spanish word, but the acting conveyed it all and we got the idea when everyone started dropping to the stage floor. A secret spot tucked away in Cordoba hid one of the greatest Napolitana pizzas with cheese, tomato and garlic goodness. Heavens, we weren’t even in Italy. Teaching the argentines to jazz closed the curtain on this day.

The next morning we were up and heading towards Sante Fe. And judging by the sheer expanse of it and its length of shopping pleasures, we decided today would serve as a dress rehearsal. Today we only permitted to sight, fit on and note any items on our wish list. Purchasing would have to wait a day until we could revisit this street thinking clearly and armed with a budget. Gold aviators, beach house cd, bronze stilettos noted (insert sigh). And move along quickly.

La Boca was the colourful, infamous area we found ourselves in post 6pm, which we had been warned against by our tour guide. But we were in the safe hands of our local friends and were already been greeted in the road by costumed characters as we made our way in to see the Che Tango show. But not before I was whisked out on the concrete for a spin or two. The moves, the sounds, the singing were magnificent and made me want to catapult myself on that stage. The thickest, juiciest steak ever set before my eyes held me back and the chocolate brownies confirmed my decision.
A late night walk to Pablo’s with our Mexican and we were one day closer to leaving Argentina. Or so we thought….