Recoleta, Buenos Aires, Argentina
July 2nd, 2024
A fine day in the Paris of the South.
Dear Reader,
After a thirteen-hour flight from Paris, I landed in Buenos Aires late last night. Adrien was waiting for me at a small hotel in Recoleta, located just steps from the Recoleta Cemetery, famous for its mausoleums, and final resting place of celebrities like Eva Perón, and Vicente Lopez y Planes, writer of the Argentine national anthem.
This morning, we rose early. It was a glorious day with a bright blue sky, shining sun, and a little breeze. It’s winter here but today feels as comfortable as a perfect fall day.
We had a little work to do. We are still applying for our residency and needed to meet our lawyer at what would be the equivalent of the social security office in the US. I was granted a CUIL – social security number – which allows me to open a bank account in Argentina. Into the account will be transferred monthly the amount the Argentine government deems reasonable for me and Adrien to live on without needing a job in Argentina. It basically proves that we are financially independent and would not be taking work away from an Argentine.
Once that was over, we took a cab to San Telmo, a neighbourhood of rundown colonial style houses, antique shops, and a second-hand English bookstore we like called Walrus Books. Their tagline is: “Oysters welcome.”.
The Walrus bookstore in San Telmo.
We had lunch in a big market with lots of food stalls.
Inside the food market in San Telmo.
Afterwards we grabbed coffee at a café with tables outside in the sun. A pair of dancers was performing the tango. The girl was French, and the man, from Buenos Aires. I took a short video of them dancing.
The dancers in San Telmo.
On Thursday we fly back to Salta. I’ll write from there.
Abrazos,
Mariah
I made similar moves, albeit without a partner, while stepping around a large snake sunning itself on a hot sidewalk. As I got closer, it would move slightly.
Much like the sidewalk dancer, my adroit footwork and body twists allowed me to deftly maneuver around it.
My last move was a running jump. It put me on the second of several steps leading up into the bar. Once I got to the third step, I knew was was "home free," so to speak.
My solo sidewalk dance took place years ago. Not sure I have the agility now that I had then.
Beautifully romantic!
Peter