Almost Time to Go

As I write this, the temperature here in Buenos Aires is 75° while back home in Fort Worth it's 69°. In other words, it's almost time to leave.

Since we did all the touristy things in years past, this time we decided to focus on simply getting to know our neighborhood better and enjoying it more.

One of the most pleasant results of this new approach was that we've eaten really well. I've complained before about the lack of variety and spice in Buenos Aires cuisine, but either the food has gotten better or our attitude has changed. With one or two exceptions, we never ate at a restaurant more than two or three blocks from our apartment. We found places we had never noticed before and stopped in at places we had often walked past. The restaurant fare was so good and still relatively cheap that we only cooked at home a couple of times. Some particular favorites were vacío at La Cholita, sorrentinos at La Parolaccia, sorrentinos at Rigoletto, lomo a caballo at Rodi-Bar, lomo at Melo, pizza calabresa at Güerrin, and milanesa napolitana at María de Bambi.

We brew our morning coffee here in the apartment. The stuff sold in supermarkets as 'coffee' is nasty and imported coffee from Brazil and Colombia is expensive, so we brought a couple of bags of Aldi coffee in our checked luggage. There's no half-and-half in Argentina, but we did just fine adding a spoon or two of crema to our morning café con leche. (There's a lot of cream for sale in the groceries: I wonder what people use it for?)

We've yet to figure out a reasonable way to exercise during our month here. It may not look like it, but I have a regular routine that I go through every day, mostly stretching, light weights, and brisk walking. Here, though, it's hard to do any of that. Walking in the city, dodging cars and buses and jostling through crowds, is not as satisfying as a fast five miles on the Trinity Trails. We're losing our tans.

Last night on the local news we saw a report about a large truck that had overturned on an overpass, dumping tens of thousands of pounds of yerba maté on the ground below. Crowds of men, women, and children rushed in to pick up the packages to haul home.

The parks are getting cleaner and nicer every year; Plaza Vicente Lopez is still our favorite. I can think of few things in life more pleasant than sitting on a park bench on a sunny spring day, watching people come and go: that little boy chasing his ball while his older sister rollerblades past; the young couple intertwined on the grass and in each other's eyes; the elderly woman, elegantly dressed, being helped to a bench by her young companion; the suited businessman on his cellphone making florid gestures in the fresh air. Stories unfolding simultaneously before one's eyes: life being lived.

Every year we come to Buenos Aires we have a bout of respiratory ailments. Cold, allergies, air pollution? All of the above? The last several days we've both been coughing and sneezing; it's not enough to keep us away but it's annoying.

Packing for return is so much easier than packing to leave. Beginning a trip means having to decide which shirts? Cold weather or warm? How much underwear? How many pairs of jeans and slacks? Which pointy kitchen implements in the checked bags? But returning involves no decisions at all: pack everything!

During past stays in Buenos Aires, I've written about things we missed back in Texas. Now, I can't even remember what they were because this year I've missed... nothing.

Before you know it we'll be through DFW customs and boarding the TRE train for home, wondering whether our car will start after sitting in the parking garage for a month. And as I put the key in the ignition I'll wistfully remember being able to live happily and well for a whole month with no car at all.

Here's my snapshots of this trip. Or you can go to the slideshow version.