Argentina Adventures: International Day Tripping

Welcome to Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay

International day trips aren’t part of my life style in northern Virginia, where crossing a border generally means driving over one of the bridges that spans the Potomac.  In fact, like many of my fellow northern Virginians, I rarely make a day trip to the neighboring state of Maryland.  We even joke that you need a passport to go there.  The thought of visiting another country for a day never crossed my mind. 

All my thinking changed once I moved down to Buenos Aires for a month.  From the Argentine capital, located on the Rio de la Plata, an international day trip is not only feasible, it’s also extremely popular.  All that’s required is a short ferry ride across the river.  About an hour later, you’ll disembark in the neighboring country of Uruguay.

Once again, the expert team of Elisa and Christian came up with our travel plan.  Early one morning, the four of us presented our passports at the Buquebus (pronounced boo-kay-boos) ferry terminal in the Puerto Madero section of Buenos Aires.  To streamline the border crossing, all passport controls and customs checks are done prior to boarding the vessel. 

There’s nothing glamorous about the ferry crossing.  It is roughly equivalent to traveling in the coach section of a wide-body airliner.  When I glanced out the window, all I could see was a seemingly endless expanse of gray, due to the presence of iron in the waters of the Rio de la Plata.  We killed a little time in the duty free shop on board.  Actually, the adults took turns chasing Sylvie around the duty free shop.  It featured the usual collection of perfumes, cigarettes, and liquor, plus toys, electronics, and candy – all priced significantly higher than in the U.S.  The prices didn’t discourage the Porteños on board, however, who were loading their baskets with goods made in other countries.  This tells you something about the exorbitant tax the Argentine government places on imports. 

When we disembarked on the opposite bank of the river, we set out to explore the town of Colonia del Sacramento.  Colonia, as it’s usually called, is a UNESCO world heritage site.  It dates back to the 1600s, and the history of the town is a microcosm of the centuries-long rivalry between Spain and Portugal.  Colonia was important to both countries because of its strategic position on the Rio de la Plata.  Whoever controlled the town could control incoming ships to the Uruguay and Parana Rivers and their tributaries. 

As far back as 1516, ships from Spain, England and Netherlands visited the site.  However, the Portuguese were the first to establish a permanent settlement there.  In 1680, a Portuguese naval commander built a fortress and gave the colony its name.  Later that year, Spain seized the colony.  For nearly 100 years, control of Colonia went back and forth between the two countries, as the town developed into a valuable commercial center as well as a military base.  Finally, in 1778, the last change of power took place when Colonia once again came under Spanish rule.

The entrance to the old town

After a short walk from the port, we found ourselves at the gateway to the old town.  If you’re picturing Colonial Williamsburg, with its beautifully restored houses and tree-lined streets, think again. Colonia del Sacramento remains relatively untouched by clean up efforts aimed at increasing tourism.  However, the somewhat ruined condition of the old town gives it an aura of times past.  Walking past the weather-worn façades of buildings, I could easily imagine horses’ hooves and the boots of Spanish and Portuguese colonists striking the cobblestones. And those cobblestones were some of the roughest I’ve ever seen.  I had to pay close attention to each step I took so that I didn’t stumble and twist an ankle.  And notice how the street slopes towards the center, forming a drainage channel. 

A typical street in old Colonia

Aside from the cobblestones, walking the streets of Colonia was a delightful way to spend a few hours.  We came across one photo-worthy scene after another.  The plazas, the church, the lighthouse, the ruins of a convent, the blue and white tiles, even the crumbling buildings – all were picturesque.  

Street art, Colonia style

It wasn't easy walking on those cobblestones.

Unrestored buildings facing the Plaza de las Armas

Sylvie enjoyed her time, too, splashing in puddles and making friends with a cat.  

Sylvie's new friend

Since Colonia attracts a large number of tourists, we had no trouble finding a restaurant for lunch.  The menu at Le Drugstore looked very similar to what we would see in Buenos Aires, and the prices were comparable.   

After we ate, we wandered around a nearby plaza and made a few purchases at shops selling interesting crafts and clothing.  I wouldn’t have minded another hour or so in the old town, just to sit on the plaza with a cup of coffee, but we wanted to catch the 4 pm ferry back to Buenos Aires.  

The site of the original fort

Avoiding the rough cobblestone lanes, we made our way back toward the port along the rocky beach, hopping from one boulder to another.  When we reached the ruins of the fortress, I looked out across the water, half expecting to see a Spanish or Portuguese galleon on the horizon.  Colonia had worked its magic on me. 

Facing the Rio de la Plata

Argentina Adventures: Buenos Aires after Dark

To experience Buenos Aires fully, you have to stay up late.  This presented a challenge for me, as my preferred bedtime hovers around 10 p.m., i.e. just when city’s nightlife is getting into full swing.  Of course, on those occasions when I babysat for Sylvie, I had to stay up later.  Walking back to my apartment at midnight or 1 a.m., I saw how lively the neighborhood was.  Families, groups, and couples were out enjoying the evening.  There were even some babies and young children in strollers.  Restaurants were filled.  Laughter spilled from the tables outside the pizzeria on the corner of my street.  Through the window of the heladeria (ice cream shop), I saw several people sipping coffee from tiny cups and working on their laptops as if it were 12 noon rather than 12 midnight.  I was almost tempted to stop in for a late night cone of dulce de leche with chocolate chips.  But something stopped me.  I wasn’t quite ready to become a night owl myself. 

After a few weeks, however, I realized that I was just observing the nightlife as a spectator.  It was time to take the plunge and become part of the action.  And what better way than by getting tickets to a late night tango show?  After all, tango is synonymous with Buenos Aires.  Sure, it would be touristy, but I’d been dreaming about tango ever since I’d arrived in Argentina.  

Several venues throughout the city offer this form of entertainment.  Some have a combination ticket entitling you to a dance lesson, a typical Argentine parrilla dinner, the tango show and a drink.  They’ll even arrange transportation.  None of this is cheap, of course.  I debated briefly and decided I’d go ahead and splurge.  A tango show was one of those “only in Buenos Aires” experiences that I couldn’t pass up. 

After doing some research, Elisa and Christian did some research, we opted for the show and drink package at El Viejo Almacen in San Telmo.  From their New York days, they’re used to going out and staying out late.  In order to make sure I could stay awake throughout the 10 p.m. show, I took a mid-afternoon nap.  Getting dressed to go out when I’d normally be getting ready for bed felt very strange.  I had to remind myself that when I was single and living in the Boston area, going out at 10 p.m. was routine.  

When our Uber dropped us off at El Viejo Almacen, I stepped out into a San Telmo that looked much more exciting in the dark than it did during the daytime.  The area was still quiet, but I sensed a hidden passion beneath the surface.  Or maybe I was just being overly romantic. 

Waiting for the tango show to begin

The stage is all ready for the tango show.

The show featured several dancers and musicians, including a bandoneon player.  I love the melancholy tones this accordion-like instrument produces.  The tables were close enough to the stage so that we had an excellent view of the performers.  The dancing was wonderful, and we also learned about the history of the tango – how it started in the multicultural milieu of La Boca and how it was originally developed by men to attract the attention of the few women in the barrio.  I certainly didn’t have any trouble staying awake, thanks in part to the dazzling costumes, mostly in black, white and red.  My only complaint about the show was that it ended too soon.  By 11:30, the house lights came back on, pulling me back to the real world.  As we gathered our belongings, I turned to Elisa and Christian and said, “You have to take tango lessons!”  A thought struck me and made me a bit sad:  If I had a partner, I’d take lessons, too.  Elliott always said he was an excellent dancer. 

Even without going to a show, you’ll notice tango throughout Buenos Aires.  While walking around the city, I saw diagrams on the sidewalk showing the steps.  

This shows how to tango!

At a restaurant in La Boca, a couple danced on a mini-stage set in the window to draw in customers.  In San Telmo, I passed by a shop selling tango clothing.  

Buy your tango clothes here.

And you can find milongas (public events where people go to dance tango) in various parks every week.  I’ll have to save that for my next trip – oh, yes, there’s going to be another trip for sure. 

My other Buenos Aires after dark experience was a night at the opera, at the famed Teatro Colon.  The theater, modeled on the grand concert halls of Europe, is considered one of the finest concert venues in the world.  Before I left home, I had gone to the Teatro Colon website and ordered tickets (using my rudimentary Spanish!) to a performance of the Richard Strauss opera Der Rosenkavalier (or as it’s called in Spanish, La Caballero de la Rosa).

On the day of the performance, I took a nap to prepare for the late night ahead.  Elisa went with me, and we started our evening out with coffee at the Petit Colon café across from the theater and a light dinner at El Gato Negro on Avenida Corrientes. 

A pre-opera dinner at El Gate Negro

The interior of El Gato Negro looks like an old drug store.

Then we hurried over to the theater for the 8 p.m. curtain.  Fancy cars were pulling up outside the beautifully illuminated building.  Tuxedo-clad men were ushering women in ball gowns into the theater.  Elisa and I looked at each other hesitantly.  She was wearing a skirt, but I was wearing my best pair of black jeans.  We shrugged and continued through the doors, held open by doormen in fancy livery.  However, when we presented our tickets at the base of the grand staircase, the usher shook his head.  It seems that only patrons holding the most expensive tickets can make an entrance here.  There was another entrance, much less impressive, for the plebians like us, around the corner. 

The glamorous people arriving at the Teatro Colon

The grand staircase, where we were turned away

Eventually, we found our way to our seats and looked out in awe at the magnificent interior with its multiple levels of horseshoe shaped rings.  

The view from our seats

Even before the music began, it felt magical to be sitting there in those seats.  We enjoyed a wonderful performance of the opera, and I managed to keep my eyes open the entire time.  With two lengthy intermissions, the final curtain didn’t come down until after midnight, when the two young lovers finally fell into each other’s arms.  I glanced at my watch.  Once again, thank goodness for Uber.  I was back in Palermo and in bed by 1 a.m. 

Argentina Adventures: La Boca and San Telmo

La Boca!  For years, the name alone had conjured up Buenos Aires in my mind – I could picture a pair of sultry tango dancers and hear the distinctive sounds of the bandoneon, an accordion-like instrument.  It seemed so romantic and exotic.  I couldn’t possibly leave without making a visit there.  Elisa warned me that I might be unrealistic in my expectations, but she agreed to join me for a walking tour on a bright, sunny morning.

The barrio of La Boca lies in the southeastern part of the city, beyond the reaches of the Subte system.  That wasn’t a problem, though, thanks to Uber.  The trip from Elisa’s apartment took about 30 minutes. 

I must admit that my first impression of La Boca was a shock.  When our Uber driver dropped us off at El Caminito, the pedestrian street where our tour began, I thought that I’d walked into a Disney theme park.  The garishly painted houses, the souvenir stands, and the cartoon-like figures popping out of windows all screamed “tourist trap.”

My first view of El Caminito (notice Pope Francis in the window)

On El Caminito

El Caminito, before the crowds arrived 

Fortunately, our guide was able to put the noise and commotion of El Caminito into a historical context.  The barrio of La Bocca is the birthplace of the city of Buenos Aires.  La Boca, which means “the mouth” in Spanish, got its name because it’s located at the mouth of the Matanza-Riachuelo River.  It is here that Pedro de Mendoza, a Spanish aristocrat, established the first permanent settlement in 1536.  During the 17^th and 18^th centuries, the city developed into a major center for slave trade and silver trade.  The revenue from taxes on exports and imports made Buenos Aires a very wealthy city.  La Boca became remained the chief port of Buenos Aires until quite recently, when the Puerto Madero area to the north was developed. 

The port of La Boca

Immigration played an important part in La Boca’s history.  Immigrants from the city of Genoa began arriving in the 1830s and settled in the port area, where many found jobs in the barrio’s shipyards.  For housing, the immigrants used leftover materials from the shipyards – scrap metal and marine paint – to build conventillos, shack-like tenement buildings that they painted in bold colors.  In the decades from 1880 to 1920, Argentina experienced a massive wave of immigration, second only to immigration through New York’s Ellis Island.  La Boca received about 6.6 million people.  Roughly sixty percent of this wave of immigrants came from Italy, but there were also large numbers of Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe as well as immigrants from Greece, Ireland, Spain, France and England.  Most of the new arrivals remained in La Boca, where they crowded into the conventillos.

Tenement buildings

With overcrowding and unsanitary conditions, disease spread rapidly and an epidemic of yellow fever broke out in La Boca in 1871.  Wealthier residents departed for other parts of the city, La Boca was placed under quarantine, and the barrio went into a decline for a number of years.  A labor strike in 1882 led to the declaration of the Republic of La Boca.  The republic lasted a mere 72 hours.  However, a fierce spirit of independence and a blue-collar grittiness continue to characterize La Boca to this day.

Street art at a La Boca playground

Tourists generally avoided the barrio in the early 20^th century.  However, in the 1950s, Argentine artist Benito Quinquela Martin, who had grown up in La Boca, spearheaded a major revitalization effort for El Caminito and the surrounding area.  He enlisted local residents to repaint their houses in the bright colors used in the previous century.  Restaurants and bars moved in, artists set up shop, and this part of La Boca became a magnet for tourists.  Soon afterwards, city officials declared El Caminito an open-air museum. 

Paintings on an old building near the railroad tracks 

Today, La Boca is especially known for its nightlife, including tango shows (more about tango in my next post!) but I was cautioned by several people not to wander the streets of the barrio after dark.  In fact, parts of La Boca are considered so rough that they are best avoided even during daylight hours. 

Street art in La Boca

Street art in La Boca 

Street art abounds in the area near El Caminito.  We saw scenes related to soccer stars, Aztec figures, and local fire fighters and policemen.  Much of the street art makes a political statement.  For example, there is a large mural depicting the Madres de la Plaza de Mayo.  This is a group of women whose children, young activists with leftist beliefs, “disappeared” during the repressive military dictatorship in the 1970s and 80s.  Although their bodies have never been found, these young people are presumed murdered.  For decades, the mothers have gathered in the Plaza de Mayo every Thursday to demand information from the government about the fate of their children (and grandchildren, as children born to female prisoners were allegedly given away for adoption to army officers).

A very large mural in La Boca

Soccer (or futbol, as it’s called in Argentina) plays a big role in the life of La Boca. Thousands of fans regularly flock to the barrio and pack into La Bombonera stadium to see the Boca Juniors play.  While Elisa and I were walking around La Boca, we saw many wearing the blue and gold colors of the team.  According to our guide, the game is a religion in Buenos Aires.  The two main teams, the Boca Juniors and their bitter rivals, the River Plate team, have devoted fans.  Loyalty lasts a lifetime.

A few hours of the circus-like atmosphere of La Boca was enough for Elisa and me.  We had a quick al fresco lunch at a parrilla (grilled chicken for me – I still wasn’t quite ready for a plateful of beef) and then worked our way through the crowds of tourists, ignoring the tango dancers offering to pose, until we reached a relatively quiet street where we could wait for an Uber ride back to Palermo.

An al fresco lunch with Elisa in La Boca

The neighborhood of San Telmo offered a completely different experience.  One Monday morning near the end of my time in Buenos Aires, I took the Subte into the Plaza de Mayo in the city center and started walking south.  As I neared the broad, tree-lined Plaza Dorrengo in the heart of San Telmo, I congratulated myself on being able to find my way around the city without losing my sense of direction.  My inner GPS is usually pretty reliable, but when I first arrived in Buenos Aires, I felt so disoriented because I kept expecting to see the sun in the southern sky.  Of course, that’s only true in the northern hemisphere.  In Argentina, the sun crosses the northern sky and it took me a while to internalize that knowledge.

The quiet of San Telmo struck me immediately – not many cars, not many people walking around, and even some of the shops were shuttered.  I guess the neighborhood was recovering from the weekend.  Every Sunday, the San Telmo Feria (fair) fills the Plaza Dorrengo and spills over into the surrounding streets.  In fact, Defensa, the main north-south street leading to the plaza, becomes a pedestrian zone, with vendors set up along both sides of the street.   

At the Plaza Dorrego in San Telmo

In contrast to my Palermo neighborhood, San Telmo lacks tall modern buildings.  It’s smaller in scale, well worn around the edges, a bit quirky, and utterly charming in its own very unpretentious way.  Compared to La Boca, it had a genuine, authentic feel, somewhat reminiscent of certain of gentrifying sections of Brooklyn. 

A street corner in San Telmo

San Telmo is known as a shopping destination, especially for antiques.  I noticed several storefronts displaying china, glassware, furniture, jewelry, etc.  I wasn’t interested in acquiring anything for my house, but I wanted to come home with at least one small souvenir from my trip.  I found what I was looking for in a shop that specialized in rodocrosita.  Called rhodochrosite in English, this beautiful stone, with its bands of rosy red and pink, is considered the national gemstone of Argentina. 

It wasn’t hard to find earrings that I liked.  But, as so often is the case in Argentina, making the purchase wasn’t simple.  My supply of pesos was dwindling, and I was hoping to use a credit card.  Argentina is still very much a cash based economy, so I had gotten into the habit of asking, whenever I entered a shop or restaurant, if they accepted credit cards.  Of course, businesses prefer cash payments, and many offer a discount if you use effectivo (cash).  However, the owner of the jewelry store assured me that he would take my credit card.  After ten minutes and two unsuccessful attempts to process the payment (he couldn’t connect), I ended up counting out pesos to complete my purchase.  Now I’d have to make sure I found a restaurant that accepted credit cards if I wanted to eat lunch. 

Before I turned back up to the city center, I made sure to stop in to MACBA.  This small privately owned museum is devoted to geometric abstract art, i.e. Elliott’s painting style.  Since I had learned of the museums’ existence before I left home, I already knew from their website that the museum owned works by several of Elliott’s artist friends and colleagues.  Since his work would fit right in to their collection, I plan to contact the museum director to see if MACBA would be interested in acquiring one of his paintings. I’d even offer to deliver it in person.   J

MACBA, the museum of geometric abstract art

Mercado San Telmo 

Mercado San Telmo

Heading back from the museum, I stumbled across the indoor San Telmo Mercado with its produce stands and lunch counters.  Although my stomach was growling and I was tempted to stop, I was afraid I didn’t have enough cash on hand.  Instead, I continued on my way until I came across a cozy vegetarian café with a credit card sign in the window.  Gingery carrot soup, lentil salad, and eggplant milanesa satisfied my ravenous appetite.  And their credit card machine worked! 

San Telmo had turned out to be an unexpected delight.  Little did I know, at the time of my initial visit, that I’d be back in the neighborhood again a few days later.  But that’s a story for my next post, Buenos Aires after Dark.