Shoo 2009, C'mere 2010

Family schedules were jumbled this year, so Terri and I celebrated Christmas by ourselves. Christmas Eve was cold and blustery and snowy, so we woke up to a sunny white Christmas. The highlight of our day was a traditional holiday meal: nothing says "Christmas" like a big plate of spaghetti carbonara and a bottle of Taittinger Domaine Carneros bubbly.

It's been a good travel year. So good, in fact, that we made Platinum in the American Airlines AAdvantage program. We started the year in Las Vegas (celebrating our tenth anniversary), then Barcelona (for my 60th birthday), Philadelphia (we wanted to see the Barnes before it moved), Washington D.C., London (we rented an apartment in Islington), Buenos Aires (our usual month in Argentina to escape the Texas heat), Chicago, and Rome (carbonara!). We even made it to Paradise (Texas). (Links are to Flickr photos.)

My son Zachary and his girlfriend Melanie will be coming up in a few days, and my daughter Sydney and granddaughter Josie will visit in mid-January. Beyond that, we have no plans, not yet, but it's early.

Happy New Year!

When in Rome...

It's a big holiday weekend throughout Italy. Tuesday is the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, and Italians are making a four-day weekend of it. While there are few foreign tourists this time of year, Rome is mobbed by Italians visiting their capital. Tour groups are swamping the popular sights and some exhibits and events are already booked up.

Italians do not understand, or adamantly refuse to acknowledge, the concept of a queue or line. Whether boarding a bus or train, buying tickets, entering a museum, or passing through security, it's always a mad dash as they all try to jostle their way to the front. This denial of line courtesy is pervasive throughout both genders and all ages: Italian matrons are as guilty as teenage males.

We're seeing new things this trip, going to places we've never seen before. Last Saturday, for example, we went to Palazzo Madama, home of the Italian Senate. It's only open to the public on the first Saturday of the month, and all the visitors are Italian. Our guide, a Senate employee, gave a witty tour of the building (in Italian, of course). I say 'witty' because all the Italians in our group frequently chuckled and we, of course, chuckled along to fit in.

On Sunday we visited the Palazzo Quirinale, the official residence of the President. It's only open on Sunday mornings and, because of the holiday, it was jammed. We waited in line for an hour and a half. The palazzo's baroque ostentation was not to my taste, but I was in awe of the guards. There must be a minimum height requirement, as they were all at least 6 foot 4 and more buff than Paris policemen. Some were in gaudy uniforms, some in elegant long black wool coats, but they were evidently ready for any tricks you might try to pull. So don't even try, buster.

Also on Sunday we went to the Centrale Montemartini, a great museum created inside an old power plant. Much of the machinery has been cleaned up and left in place, used as a background for displaying Roman Republican statuary. On a busy holiday weekend, it was deserted; even Italians are not aware of all their cultural assets.

More photos have been going up on Flickr.

Why I Go to Italy

There are many reasons to visit Italy, any part of Italy. Here in Rome there are Roman ruins, beautiful churches, incredible art, and the energy and activity of a world capital.

Last night, however, I was reminded of my favorite reason for coming to Italy: to eat.

We got to our hotel around 9.30 yesterday morning and chatted with Alberta, the owner. We napped and relaxed and then walked around the neighborhood. (Imagine being able to walk down the block and turn left, and see the Colisseum.) Besides enjoying being out and about, we were already plotting the main event of the day: where would we eat dinner?

After checking several places Alberta had mentioned, we settled on La Carbonara, a little neighborhood place a few blocks from the hotel, on Via Panisperna. We went about 7.30, early by Roman standards, but a crowd was already building.

Since we were still a bit frazzled by jet lag, we wanted a fairly light dinner, say an anti-pasto and a primo piatto (an appetizer and a first course, usually pasta). Terri chose frittura (mixed fried, battered vegetables) and penne arrabbiata, and I got two very Roman dishes, carciofi all Giudia and spaghetti carbonara. The house red was a Tuscan wine, from Maremma, a merlot/sangiovese blend.

Carciofi is artichoke, in season now, and 'alla Giudia' means 'Jewish' style. A whole young artichoke is deep fried, then put on a plate and drizzled with olive oil. That's it. You eat the entire artichoke, starting with the crisp outer leaves and working down to the soft heart, and the stem, too.

Spaghetti carbonara is not as simple, but almost. Sauté olive oil, garlic, and pancetta (Italian bacon), then pour over freshly cooked pasta. Then add raw egg. The hot pasta cooks the egg. If you've never had carbonara, you may be wary. But if you have had it, you know it is one of the greatest things to ever enter your mouth and go down your throat.

Two delightful dishes, a delightful dinner companion, a delightful bottle of wine in a delightful little restaurant. What a delightful way to begin our latest visit to Italy.

a Roma, di nuovo

We went to Austin for Thanksgiving (and Zachary's birthday) and enjoyed seeing our families. I even got a few photos of my kids and granddaughter for Flickr; take a look if you get a chance.

Now it's time to fly away. American Airlines offered some bonus miles and Terri found a decent fare, so tomorrow, Tuesday, we're going to Rome for nine days. We'll be staying at our favorite little hotel on Via Cavour and eating lots of pizza and pasta and gelato. Beyond that, who knows? This will be our eighth trip to Italy and our third to Rome, but we're just as excited as ever. Viva Italia!

I'll post trip reports here and on Facebook, and snaps will be on Flickr.

Sunday in Chicago

I am not going to tell you what we did on Sunday, because that would be tweeting, and I am not a tweeting kind of guy.

I will tell you we went to see America: All Better! at the Second City comedy club. I tell you this because it was hilarious and because I want you to see it, too. Don't come to Chicago unless you go see a Second City show.

Snaps are on Flickr.

Simple Pleasures

Our flight to Chicago was on a 777, an unusually large plane for this route because AA needed to move it to O'Hare. Because the plane was so big, we got to sit in the business class section even though we had economy/coach tickets.

The business class seats have all sorts of controls, up and down and back and forth for the back, seat, and leg sections. Think of the possibilities! Right after take-off I started playing with different settings and was able to entertain myself for most of the two hour flight. I tried the barcalounger, the sleeper, the sitting-upright-at-a-desk, the relaxed-but-alert, and everything in between. Terri told me that although I looked like a 60 year old man, I was acting like our 11 year old nephew, Alec, and she did not appreciate it when I reached over and started playing with the controls of her seat, too.

Once we got to our hotel and checked in, we walked around downtown. At Michigan and Randolph we ran across street performers, five young guys drumming. (I posted a short video sample on Flickr if you'd like to watch them.) Each had a pair of drumsticks, a large plastic bucket, and a plastic milk crate to sit on. They drummed and drummed and drummed some more, first one, then two, then all five together, then a solo, then three, back and forth and in unison. I mean these guys were good and the ever increasing crowd loved them.

After enjoying the music, I walked away marveling at what can result from a little ingenuity and a lot of talent and practice, and how so many of life's pleasures result from these little serendipitous moments.

We ended the evening by getting a pizza and several beers at Pizzeria Due, which along with Pizzeria Uno is the home of Chicago-style deep dish pizza. It was good but over-rated. (The best deep dish pizza I've ever had was at the old Conan's on Guadalupe in Austin, about 25 years ago.) Afterwards we felt like exploding as we waddled back across the river to our hotel.

DFW -> ORD

Your personality is fueled by the fascination you feel for life. --fortune cookie from Thai Tina's, downtown Fort Worth, November 6, 2009

I love cities! We travel to cities and go to museums and concerts and parks, but I am happy just being out in the crowds, amid the noise and bustle and energy of thousands of people in motion. There is so much of interest everywhere I look, countless little dramas unfolding all around me: a man hurrying back to work, a young couple very much in love, a family rushing to get on the bus, a group of teenagers laughing as they emerge from an underground subway station, a toddler chasing a pigeon in a park, a delivery man greeting a shop owner as he unloads boxes from a truck.

Each of the cities we visit — Paris, London, Buenos Aires, Rome, New York, Chicago — has a distinctive atmosphere, a unique sensibility, but they share this attraction of concentrated energy. I'd never confuse Paris with, say, London, or Chicago with Buenos Aires, but the feeling of excitement, for me, is very much the same in all of them. I recently read David Byrne's Bicycle Diaries, which ends with this paragraph:

Observing and engaging in a city’s life — even for a reticent and often shy person like me — is one of life’s great joys. Being a social creature — it is part of what it means to be human.

So, it's not surprising that when Terri recently found cheap airfares and asked me, "Do you want to go to Chicago?" I answered, "Why not?" She also found a good deal on a room at the new Hampton Inn inside the Loop, so we're all set. We're leaving Fort Worth in a few hours and will return on Tuesday.

Here's some snaps from our trips to Chicago in August 2005 and September 2006.

I'll blog a time or two and post some snaps on Flickr while we're there. Until then, feel free to contemplate this picture of Paradise.

Mistakes

Since our return from Argentina we've been enjoying la dolce far niente, the sweetness of doing nothing, as the Italians say. But we're busily planning some trips and it will soon be time for our boot heels to be wandering, if you know what I mean and I think that you do.

Until then, here's a quote I ran across that is so good I had to pass it along here:

…you cannot undo a mistake by continuing to make it. All you can do is stop making the mistake, cut your losses and move on.

The author is Bruce Bartlett, once Reagan's economic advisor. The topic really doesn't matter, since his insight applies to everything from wars and global crises to marriages and cooking, but if you want to see the original in context it's here.

Lake Travis

Two years ago, Lake Travis near Austin was so full there was some talk of water actually going over the spillway. There was so much water it was impossible to go boating -- docks and launch ramps were underwater.

A year ago, the lake had gone down considerably but there was plenty of water to enjoy. Ed got a new dock for his boat, and we enjoyed some fine sunsets on the lake.



Since then there's been a prolonged drought in South and Central Texas, and Lake Travis is at its third lowest level ever. Ed's new dock is high and dry, and fields of ragweed are overgrowing gullies that were once thirty feet underwater.

Time to Leave

We are flying back to DFW today, leaving late tonight and arriving in Texas early tomorrow morning. The weather is nasty, cold and gray and drizzly. We'll only leave the apartment for lunch at Panini Express, where the menu del día is A$26, muy barato!

It's always sad to leave. But at least on this trip we got to see the world's stupidest shoes. Click on the image for more, if you dare.

El Día de Primavera

Today is the first day of spring and the weather, at least here in Buenos Aires, has been gorgeous, pleasantly warm and sunny, the kind of day that makes you smile inwardly and think, it's so great to be alive.

We've been out and about, on our last full day here. Everyone seems to be enjoying the first taste of Spring: there's an air of frivolity, people are exchanging flowers, and everywhere there is laughter and joy.

About 8 p.m. we heard noises outside, a metallic clanging, at first isolated, that grew and grew. We went out to see what was happening and saw people out on their balconies, banging pots and pans. As we stood and watched, more and more joined the clamor, until it all became quite deafening. After about thirty minutes it died down.

Then a little after 9 it started again. A group of about 100 people marched down Callao, banging pans, shouting, and waving flags, protected by police cars with flashing lights, as more people came out on their balconies to encourage them by adding yet more banging to the din.

Edited to add: We talked to Valeria, who owns our apartment, and she told us that all the banging was another protest against the government. Tonight it was the media law controversy.

Today's Weather in Mumbai

In the United States, ninety-five percent of television news is focused on the U.S. and everything else is lumped together into a vague, mysterious Other. In this view of the world all the important stuff happens in the U.S., of course, and happenings in the Other are only reported when they affect the U.S. Some Americans were killed, perhaps, or an American company is plotting ways to gain market share in a foreign economy.

Here in Buenos Aires, we have cable television. Besides the expected Argentine stations, there's a group of stations that we run across wherever we travel: CNN International (US), BBC World(UK), Deutsche Welle (Germany), RAI (Italy), and TV5Monde (France).

There's a subtle but significant effect when watching these international channels. The U.S. is no longer the center of the universe, and the reports from Africa, Asia, and Latin America are included because they are important in and of themselves. Mugabe tries to woo foreign investors while maintaining his grip on dysfunctional Zimbabwe, Indonesian police kill a noted terrorist, and Argentina and Uruguay are still hotly disputing the envirnomental damage caused by a new paper mill.

Even the weather reports reflect this different, broader perspective: the forecaster points to charts of storms approaching Japan, winds across Africa, and cold fronts in South America. Then there's a bit of upbeat elevator music while the station scrolls a quick listing of high temperatures and sky conditions in major cities around the world. Mumbai will be hot again today; it's only 7 a.m. there and it's already 27°.

It's almost time to go

It's the bittersweet part of a trip. Our month in Buenos Aires has flown by and we can now count the days until we leave on the fingers of one hand. We've finished our Spanish classes, so no more tarea! And now, when we see posters or ads for some upcoming event, we realize that we'll be gone.

We don't really want to leave, but then again there's no denying the appeal of being back at our place in Fort Worth. I wonder if the car will start?

The weather has been nasty: cold, gray days in the 50s, with constant drizzling rain. But today, Saturday, we woke up to beautiful blue skies. I hope this lasts for the rest of our stay.

We're looking at what we have left, and what we might still need. Do we have enough coffee and milk and butter and bread to last us until Tuesday? Another package of cheese, maybe? Will we be able to use the remaining eggs? Do we need one more bottle of wine?

With only four days left, we're making lists of what we wanted to do but haven't yet done. We've eaten at some of our favorite places (Dashi Sushi, La Cholita, Cumaná, Panini) and some new places (Tandoor, MB, and Las Cabritas) but still haven't made it to Piola or Lola's. We've had ice cream at Volta, Freddo, Persicco, and Munchi's, pasta and sauces from Mazzeo, empanadas and tartas from San José, and way too many facturas frutillas from Winner, the pastry shop around the corner.

We've walked along Libertador -- I could walk along Libertador every day -- and sat in Plaza Libertad. We visited new places like Belgrano and Caballito and old favorites like the giant La Flor and Plaza de Mayo. We even got to tour the inside of the Casa Rosada.

In another day or two we'll have to break out the suitcases and start setting aside stuff to pack. It's almost time to return to Texas and start planning the next trip.

¿A donde?

Renting an apartment in Bs As: Alfredo and Valeria

One of the most striking ways that the Internet has changed travel is by opening up the market for short-term apartment rentals. Hotels may be fine in some cases -- we still use them for travel inside the U.S. -- but for any stay of a week or so or longer, we much prefer getting an apartment.

In Paris a year ago, we found a great apartment on Craigslist, in the 1er arrondisement, about two blocks from the Louvre (!) and a short walk to the giant Les Halles Metro stations. In London this year, we rented an apartment in Islington, close to Tube and bus stops.

A quick google will show a large and thriving apartment rental market in Buenos Aires, especially in established, well-to-do central barrios like Recoleta and Palermo.

In 2007, we had an apartment in el centro, on Paraguay between Reconquista and San Martín. It was very large and nicely decorated, but the neighborhood was noisy and congested.

Then in 2008 we got lucky: we discovered discover BA, or as we know them, Alfredo and Valeria. They own and manage a number of apartments, all in great locations at reasonable prices. Alfredo and Valeria are two of the nicest people we've met in our travels, always helpful and congenial.

Last year and this, we've rented their REC01 unit. We really love this apartment -- it's in a great location, it has everything we need, and it's just the right size for the two of us.

And next year? Valeria has shown us several of their other rentals, and we just might try something different.

Hablar con Marco

For several years now, we've come down to Argentina in August or September to escape the Texas heat and enjoy big-city life. While we're here we take Spanish lessons, in the wild hope that someday we will be able to speak another language.

Buenos Aires is a good place to learn Spanish, or castellano as they call their version of it. There are many schools and teachers to choose from, but there is very little English spoken out on the street or in shops and restaurants, so you are forced to at least try to speak castellano.

Although castellano is understood by anyone who speaks Spanish, it is a bit different from the dialects spoken in, say, Mexico or Spain. Here, they use 'vos sos' instead of 'tu eres' for the second person informal, and the 'y' and 'll' sound is a kind of shushing noise. For example, 'tortilla' in Buenos Aires is pronounced something like 'torteesha'. (And the thing they call a tortilla is nothing like the tortillas we're used to back in Texas.)

When we visited Barcelona back in January, I spoke one sentence of Spanish to the woman who was renting us an apartment, and she immediately said, "Argentina!"

Each year we try a different school or teacher. This year we've been lucky to find Marco Luccón, a young college student from the nearby town of Luján, now living in Palermo. (Thanks to our friend Dave for the recommendation; Dave took lessons from Marco when he and his family lived down here.) He has converted part of his apartment into a small classroom, and four days a week we spend two hours there, wrestling with the indefinido and the imperfecto, and trying to master yet another strange bit of castellano syntax. (Click on the photo for a larger version.)

Marco is an excellent teacher, patient and thorough. How he keeps from bursting into laughter at our outrageous mistakes is beyond me. If you come down to Buenos Aires and want to learn some Spanish, get in touch with Marco.

Here's Marco's website, Hablar en Bs As:

Hablar en Bs As

Around the Block

The biggest difference between central Buenos Aires and downtown Fort Worth is the sheer density of people, buildings, and businesses.

Our apartment in Fort Worth is within walking distance of the public library, some downtown restaurants, and a few stores like the Barnes & Noble, as well as the Trinity Trails. Most any other activity, including grocery shopping, requires a car.

Here in Buenos Aires, our apartment is on Callao, midway between Pacheco de Melo and Las Heras. As blocks in this part of Buenos Aires go, ours is fairly dull, but I thought it would be interesting to discover exactly what's here. So, yesterday morning we walked around the block, pen and pad in hand, writing down every building and business. Here's what we found as we went from Las Heras down Callao to P. de Melo, down Melo to Ayacucho, along Ayacucho to Las Heras, then back up Las Heras to Callao.

Paint store
Hosiery store
Tanning salon
Video/computer games store
High-end china/housewares
Hair salon (3)
Restaurant
Ice cream shop/café
Pharmacy
Real estate/property management
Cheese/deli (2)
Parking garage (7 floors)
EU delegation office
Kioscos (2)
Electrical supplies/hardware
Copy center (closed)
Pastry/catering
Café

Sitting on top of all this are 27 high-rise apartment buildings (ranging from four to 15 floors), with two more under construction. I have no idea how many people call this block home, but it must be at least a few thousand.

Within two or three blocks there are supermarkets, restaurants, clothing stores, furniture stores, more hair salons, a large park, a score or more bus stops, cafés, pasta shops, kiosks, newstands, flower vendors, fruit/vegetable vendors, a seafood market, butchers, and who knows what else, not to mention twenty or thirty high-rise apartment buildings in every block.

This is the hustle and bustle of Bs As, with everything we want or need right outside our door, and back in Texas there's the easygoing quiet of Fort Worth, where we can walk for miles along the river and rarely encounter a soul. Both are 'downtown' but goodness, what a difference.

True or false?

There's a lot of counterfeit money out on the streets of Buenos Aires, with the taxi drivers and food carts and street vendors.

Alfredo, our landlord, gave us some tips when we arrived. On a real bill, the number in the corner is printed holographically, so that if you hold it up towards the light and tilt it back and forth the color changes from green to blue. A real bill has a watermark in the white space on the left, duplicating the portrait on the bill, which is clearly visible when you hold it up against the light. If you rub a real bill between your thumb and forefinger you can feel its coarse texture. Here's what real money looks like (click on the photo for a larger image):



Alfredo was able to show us a counterfeit bill that someone had passed off on one of his tenants. It looked real to us, but as he explained it all we could see that the phony was very smooth to the touch, the color of the number did not change with the light, and there was no watermark.

(Phony money is only a problem on the streets, not in ATMs and established stores.)

What makes this interesting is that the police do not confiscate the bad bills. In a dispute with a taxi driver or a vendor, you can ask a cop to examine the bill and determine whether it's real or counterfeit. If it's a phony, he'll tell you so -- and then hand the bill back to you.

Counterfeit bills are thus a game of 'tag, you're it.' When someone gets a bad bill, they try to pass it off on someone else to recoup their loss. So far, at least, we haven't been tagged.

Bang the Drum Loudly (and Honk the Horn, Too)

It's been a long day and we were settling in for a quiet evening when we heard very loud banging outside. Several hundred people were marching boisterously down the middle of the street, protesting the coup in Honduras and U.S. military bases in Colombia. Their banging and shouting was loud enough, but it's gotten much worse: the marchers blocked Callao just past Las Heras, a block from our apartment, and now there is a huge traffic jam of taxis and buses below our balcony honking angrily in protest at the protestors.

We've heard loud protest marches before.

It's too dark for photos or video of the march, unfortunately, but I'm posting some new snaps on Flickr...

Chive and Onion

One of the pleasant surprises of this year's stay in Buenos Aires is finding Kraft Philadelphia Cream Cheese with Chive and Onion in the supermarket. It's the real stuff, imported from the U.S.

Perfect Day

Last Sunday we headed out to Parque Rivadavia, in Caballito, a barrio we had never visited. There were lots of people selling things: trinkets, toys, jewelry, books, CDs and DVDs, food, and Rastafarian accessories. Although we didn't find the stamp collectors' catalogs that Terri was looking for, we enjoyed joining the crowds of young parents pushing strollers, kids running about playing, and old folks sitting on benches. Conveniently, there was a Munchi's across the street, so we had ice cream.

What next? We saw a subte entrance and thought, why not go to Plaza de Mayo? We got on Linea A, the oldest subway line in South America (it still uses the wooden cars built in Belgium in the 1920s) and took it all the way to the end. When we got to the plaza, we noticed lots of people not just admiring Casa Rosada but going inside. We walked up to one of the guards and asked if we, too, could go in, and he said sure. Apparently they have opened the restored Casa Rosada as part of the upcoming 2010 bicentennial.

Soldiers in fancy dress uniform led enthusiastic groups of visitors through the beautiful rooms. There was lots of gawking and pointing and posing with soldiers, cameras flashing all the while. Terri and I were suitably impressed; Casa Rosada really is beautiful, and we had no idea we'd get to see the inside. Once we got back out in the Plaza, Terri, in a fervor of patriotism for our temporary home, bought a small Argentina flag.

We left the plaza and walked with the weekend crowds down Perú and then Florida, admiring the impressive architecture and gloating over our luck at getting into Casa Rosada. What a perfect day!, we thought.

We went to Galerías Pacífico, an upscale shopping mall, and had a light meal at the fast food court. Since we're here, why not go over to the Borges Cultural Center and see what kind of shows they have scheduled?

Our lucky day got even luckier. They were still selling choice tickets to a tango show that began in 30 minutes, just enough time to walk around the current art exhibits. I've already written about the tango show, so here I'll just say it was fantastic. I think we were the only tourists in the audience, who clapped and bravo-ed throughout the performance.

Afterwards we walked to Plaza San Martín and waited for the #59 bus to take us home. We waited and waited, unusual for Buenos Aires, and when the bus finally arrived it was jammed. About ten people got on at once, and as we were dropping coins into the machine the driver was commanding Vamos! so he could shut the door and race onward. We couldn't move an inch during the ride home and were glad it was a short trip to Vicente López and Callao.

Tango

Ah, the tango. Who can talk of Argentina without mentioning the tango?

There's a flourishing market for glitzy, touristy tango shows, with prices ranging from A$250 to A$500 or more per person, for transportation, dinner, and a show. I'm glad to say I've never been to one.

Back in 2007, during our first extended stay in Buenos Aires, Terri and I discovered the Borges Cultural Center, next to, and in the same building as, Galerías Pacífico, an upscale shopping mall in central Buenos Aires. The Borges center has exhibition galleries for art and photography, and several small theatres for music performances.

Two years ago we saw Anoche: Un Baile de Tango there and fell in love with the tango. The only turistas in a very enthusiastic Argentine crowd, we were stunned by the beauty and intensity of the dance and the music. It was that performance that got me to thinking of Buenos Aires as not just a travel destination but a second home.

Last night, in the evening of a perfect day, we went to the Borges center to see El color de mi baile, featuring Luis Pereyra and Nicole Nau dancing with Horacio Banegas and his son Jana providing the music.

Try YouTube to to get a small glimpse of what we saw.

How do I say it? We were stunned, overwhelmed, awestruck. I have seen some greats in my day: Igor Stravinsky conducting, in Louisville in 1966; Steve Reich, on several occasions; Baryshnikov and Twyla Tharp, at SMU; Captain Beefheart and Frank Zappa, at Armadillo World Headquarters; Blue Man Group, in NYC, Chicago, and Las Vegas; Cirque dul Soleil in Las Vegas; David Byrne and Talking Heads at Palmer Auditorium in Austin; and in Paris, Daniel Roth at St. Sulpice and Jean Guillou at St. Eustace. Seeing them, and now these tango dancers and musicians, have made me glad to have been alive at this time, in this place.

Our Day in Belgrano

Belgrano is a barrio (neighborhood) just beyond Palermo. Our friend Fernando lived there many years and went to the University of Belgrano, and Dave and Herbie lived there for a while during their year in Argentina. So of course we had to visit and see what it was like. Wiki has the essential info.

We hopped on el colectivo #59 on Vicente López in Recoleta and got off at Cabildo and Juramento, the heart of Belgrano. The first thing I saw when I got off the bus was a store window displaying the stupidest shoes in the world. I almost decided to get back on the bus right then and there but Terri insisted we press on.

We walked over to "La Redonda", the church with the round dome, and browsed the arts and crafts fair, then went across the street to the Enrique Larreta museum.

Then we walked, and walked, and walked, among tall apartment buildings and down quiet streets of single-family houses, parks and sculpture gardens.

We ended up in Las Cañitas, an up and coming area near Libertador with lots of shops and restaurants. As luck would have it, we found Las Cabritas, a sister restaurant to La Cholita and Cumaná, favorites of ours. Dinner was big pieces of grilled meat, finished off with some yummy flan.

After dinner we walked over to Av. Luis M. Campos and hopped on a #59 and rode home to our comfy bed and sweet dreams.

I've posted snaps from our day over at Flickr.

Mud-Pies

"After all, all the genuine, deep delight of life is in showing people the mud-pies you have made; and life is at its best when we confidingly recommend our mud-pies to each other's sympathetic consideration."

--John MacCaig Thorburn, Art and the Unconscious

Money! or, using credit and ATM cards

Travel is not just oohing and aahing at the sights of interest and gorging yourself on the local cuisine, it's spending money.

As some of you know, I'm always looking for the best credit and ATM cards, the ones with the best rewards and lowest fees. Now you can benefit from my years of research and investigation!

Our main credit card now, both for domestic U.S. use and international travel, is the Charles Schwab Signature VISA. This card gives a 2% rebate on all purchases and never charges a foreign transaction fee. Never! (Most U.S. cards nowadays charge up to 3% every time you use them outside the country.)

Most places here in Buenos Aires gladly accept credit cards. We use the VISA all the time at supermarkets and restaurants. The few times we've seen "en efectivo" (in cash) it's been for the menu del día at a restaurant, the shortened list of daily lunch specials.

To get cash, we've settled on Charles Schwab Bank's VISA ATM card. Again, no foreign transaction fees and they will rebate any ATM fee from anywhere in the world.

In the past, Argentine ATMs worked like those in Western Europe: fees were charged by the bank where you had an account, not by the bank that operated the machine. Thus, if you were from outside the country you didn't pay a fee to use the ATM.

A few months ago the Argentine banks switched to a U.S.-style system and began charging a flat ATM fee of about $3 US for every withdrawal from a foreign bank. To make matters worse, they code the fee oddly on their electronic data records so that it does not appear as an ATM fee to a U.S. bank. Charles Schwab figured it out, however, and has refunded our ATM fees.

To make things even better, both Schwab cards give very favorable exchange rates, only 10 or 20 basis points off the posted rate in currency markets.

P.S. Another credit card that has been useful to us has been the Citi AAdvantage MasterCard. We'd never use it here in Argentina (there's a 3% foreign transaction fee) but we do 'churn' them: apply for a new card, spend some minimum amount, get 25,000 or 30,000 AA frequent flier miles as a sign-up bonus, cancel the card, then apply for a new card. Since we do this a couple times a year, we've never had to pay for airline tickets to Buenos Aires, using frequent flier miles instead. Round trip tickets on AA from DFW to EZE are generally $1,000 and up, so paying about $50 for taxes and fees for a ticket is quite a good deal.

What We've Been Eating and Drinking

One of the main reasons to travel is you get to eat different kinds of food. So, what have we been eating?

The food of Buenos Aires is generally simple and straightfoward, with the favorite dishes being grilled meats, pastas, empanadas and tortas, and pizza. Argentines are a bit like Italians: they like their own cuisine very much and will only hesitantly try something new. And nothing spicy!

Here's a sampling of where and what we've been eating and drinking.

--La Cholita is a great little place on Rodriguez Peña just off Av. Santa Fe. We've eaten there twice, grilled steaks and sausages. We ate there a lot last year, and I'm sure we'll eat there again before we leave.

--Romario is a popular local pizza chain. We've eaten here twice, too, getting a large mozarella and pepperoni pizza each time. Each pizza comes with about a pound of melted, gooey cheese.

--El Establo is a well-known parilla (grill) near the center of town, at the corner of Paraguay and San Martín. More grilled meat and sausages, and I love their batatas fritas (fried sweet potatoes).

--Tandoor has some lovely Indian food (and a lovely website besides), quite tamely seasoned for us but adventurously so for the porteños. Tandoor is on Charcas a few blocks from our Spanish class, so we stopped here for lunch on the walk home. Terri had pollo saag, a spinach and chicken curry, and I had a delicious ku ku pak, chicken curry with cilantro and coconut milk.



--Cumaná is a popular place next door to La Cholita, similar prices but very different food -- no grilled meat, but lots of interesting oven-cooked dishes like casseroles, lasagna, and empanadas. Today at lunch Terri had canelloni stuffed with swiss chard and cheese, and I had an open face hot sandwich with proscuitto, tomatoes, and basil.

The restaurants here have very reasonable prices for drinks. For example, a half liter of house red wine at Cumaná or La Cholita is A$11, or less than $3 US, or you can get a liter of Stella Artois, my favorite beer in Buenos Aires, for A$15, or less than $4 US.

There's a limit to how much we can eat out. Some nights we go over to Mazzeo to get some homemade pasta and sauce to bring home, or we'll get some empanadas and a torta at San Jose around the corner.

We are always asked, can you drink the water? Yes, of course. The tap water has a lot of chlorine (like Fort Worth's) but just let it sit out on the counter in an open bottle overnight and it's fine, even tasty.

Government

"Of course, government in general, any government anywhere, is a thing of exquisite comicality to a discerning mind..."

--Joseph Conrad, Nostromo

Good morning, Buenos Aires!

We woke up this morning to cold winds, grey skies, and rain. The Santa Rosa is here.

Hot, Lazy Weekend in Buenos Aires

One of the best reasons for visiting Argentina in August is to escape the Texas heat, but the weather in Buenos Aires has been remarkably warm, even hot, 30°C and more (upper 80s). A cold front is expected tonight, so we're hoping for a high tomorrow around 15° (60°F).

Mostly because of the heat, we're having a lazy weekend of it. We walked home from class in Palermo on Friday, window shopping down Av. Santa Fe along the way. We're looking for a particular household item; more on that when we find it.

Yesterday we walked to the downtown business district, where we rented an apartment two years ago, and had lunch at El Establo, a well-known restaurant at the corner of Paraguay and San Martín. Terri had a grilled sausage and creamed spinach, and I had a matambrito (flank steak) sandwich with a side order of batatas fritas (fried sweet potatoes). Diet Pepsi for her, a half bottle of the house vino tinto for me, and with a generous tip we were out the door for about A$110, less than $30 US.

We spent most of the afternoon sitting on a bench in Plaza Vicente López, a gorgeous little park about two blocks from our apartment. Since everyone here lives in apartments, the parks are full of families getting out in the fresh air.

Today, we walked around Recoleta Cemetery, the arts and crafts fair in the adjacent park, and then back to Plaza Vicente Lopez. How I love to sit in the park and watch the world walk by.



Tonight, we'll do our homework for tomorrow's Spanish class. While we're doing that, you can go to Flickr, where I've posted videographic evidence that Argentina is light years ahead of the U.S. in returnable bottle technology.

WHOOSH!

¡Me da monedas! Los Colectivos y Los Kioscos

Buenos Aires' buses (colectivos) are fast, numerous, efficient, and cheap, a great way to get around town. Unfortunately, one must have coins (monedas) and only coins to pay the fare of A$1.10 or A$1.20 (about 30¢ US).

As soon as you get on the bus, you start dropping coins into the machine behind the driver. You don't need exact change, but you must be quick about it, as there's usually a line of people behind you waiting to pay their fares, hanging on for dear life because the bus is already roaring through traffic to the next stop.

Since everyone here rides the bus, everyone needs coins. Where do you get coins?

Every block has one or more kioscos, or kiosks, small shops that sell cigarettes, soft drinks, batteries, phone cards, and about 100 kinds of candy. So, you buy a candy bar with a bill. Or you can stop at a Freddo or Volta to buy a couple of cucuruchos (ice cream cones). Or you can pay cash when you buy some empanadas or pasta or pastries at the small shop around the corner. When you pay, you have to ask, "¿Puede ser monedas?" Is it possible to get coins in change?

They'll hesitate and try to give you bills instead but usually, eventually, will hand over some monedas. After all, they, too, need coins to ride the bus.

Yesterday, we didn't have enough coins to ride the bus home from our Spanish lesson in Palermo. We stopped at a kiosco to buy a chocolate, but the guy wouldn't give us monedas. So we didn't buy the chocolate and walked home. Forty-five minutes later, back in Recoleta, we went shopping and once again felt the happy jangle of loose metal in our pockets.

Who is this woman?

On our first Monday in Buenos Aires, a beautiful warm day with a blue sky, we walked by the Recoleta Cemetery, through Buenos Aires Design (a shopping mall specializing in home furnishings and decor), and towards the Facultad de Derecho (law school). Next door is the famous Floralis Genérica, a huge modern art sculpture made of aircraft aluminum.

We've often visited and admired this park and sculpture, but were surprised this time to find the grounds covered in hundreds of life-size cut-out posters of a voluptuous Argentine actress. Apparently it had been some sort of public art exhibit, but workers were taking down the cut-outs and stacking them up for removal.

We've googled and asked and still don't know -- do you know who the woman is?

Edited to add: Eva got it right in the comments (thanks!) -- it's "Coca" Sarli. Here's the English Wiki page on her. Be careful if you google for images: you'll get a lot of 1960s style female nudity.

¡Bienvenidos a Buenos Aires!

We arrived in Buenos Aires yesterday morning on a beautiful late winter day and had a pleasant ride into town in a new Citroën. We were at our apartment on Av Callao by about 9.30 am and met our landlord, Alfredo. Everything was just as we had left it last September.

We unpacked, had a nap, then made quick trips to the nearby Disco and Carrefour supermarkets for the necessities: bread, butter, wine, beer, milk, coffee, cheese, crackers, toilet paper. After we got that put away we had a very late lunch at La Cholita: Terri had two large brochettes of meat/onion/peppers, I had a lomo sandwich, and we split a liter of Stella Artois and a bottle of mineral water. (Total came to about $18.75 US; prices have gone up since last year.)

We're having a lazy morning of it. Until I think of something clever to write or interesting to photograph, here's the view across Av. Callao from our living room.

Summer in Texas

I really, really hate Texas summers. Day after day after day, the oppressive heat drains my body and mind, giving me a very bad case of the don'ts -- don't wanna do nothing.

If I owned Hell and Texas, I would rent out Texas and live in Hell. -- General Philip Henry Sheridan, 1866

Fortunately, the revolving Earth has a tilted axis. Thus, there is a Southern Hemisphere where the seasons are the reverse of Texas' -- so in exactly two weeks we're flying to Buenos Aires. We'll stay a month, in an apartment on Av. Callao, and hope that the weather has cooled by the time we come back to Fort Worth.

To tease myself, I'm looking at this picture from last year's trip, of me standing near the Puente de la Mujer bridge in Puerto Madero, on a glorious crisp winter day in Argentina.

Wonderful Life

I've just finished rereading Stephen Jay Gould's Wonderful Life, which ends with this:

We are the offspring of history, and must establish our own paths in this most diverse and interesting of conceivable universes--one indifferent to our suffering, and therefore offering us maximal freedom to thrive, or to fail, in our own chosen way.

Lovely sentence, eh?

U.S. Health Care Costs, Simplified

Unfortunately, the debate in the U.S. about "controlling costs" of health care really means "controlling costs for consumers." If we only make health care less expensive for consumers without controlling the total costs of the system, we will have made little progress.

The U.S. spends much more per person on health care than any other country, yet our health outcomes (such measures as longevity and infant mortality) are no better.

Where does all that extra spending go? Consumers pay a lot, companies pay a lot, the government pays a lot -- to whom? To insurance companies, doctors, hospitals, drug companies, medical equipment companies, and all the other pieces of the health care sector who are sucking the rest of us dry.

The solution? Drop this charade of "health care reform" and instead focus on antitrust regulation. Break up the financial connections and market manipulation among insurers, doctors, hospitals, clinics, and drug companies.

A Photograph

I've just begun this blog and am already at a loss for something to write. So I'll post a recent photo.