My explorations in Buenos Aires are a little different than my explorations in London or York. See, I know nothing of this town other than what I learned from the movie Evita, and I don’t really remember much of that except for Madonna chasing a train and her singing “don’t cry for me Argentina….” So I went into this pretty cold turkey. I had a guidebook, but I hadn’t really read it yet.
I woke up Saturday morning around 10:45. Part of me was very tempted to stay in the hotel all day. See, I had a pretty nasty cold last week, and I didn’t really feel ready for a full day of checking out a new city. I forced myself to get out anyway though, and walked down Avenida de Florida. It’s one of three streets that are pedestrian only. There are a lot of shops and street performers and artists out there. I’ll probably go back and get a few souvenirs from there before I leave. I probably walked down Ave. Florida for about two hours just looking at the different shops. I even went in to a few of them. One thing unexpected were the number of people trying to help me find some “companionship.” And they were pushy too. I made the mistake of talking to one or two of them before I knew what they were peddling and getting away was damn near impossible. After a while you just have to be rude and walk away.
After my two hours of fun on Ave. Florida I decided to go back to the hotel and get a little food. While there I whipped out my trusty travel guide and got to reading. What can I see within walking distance? I quickly narrowed down my sights to the Casa Rosada (Pink House), the Cathedral, and the Cabildo. These are all in a little park down Ave. Florida, so I got my camera and prepared to run the gauntlet of pimps and pushers again. By this time, I had passed a few of them multiple times, so they were starting to recognize me. There was this one young guy, that never told me what he was pushing, and I never asked, but every time I went by him he would stop me and ask me another English word, or phrase, or place on a map. He seemed like a pretty nice guy. I taught him what a gypsy was. I told him the English word “regret”. I tried to show him my birthplace on the map, but it’s such a small town it doesn’t really matter and Austin was sitting where I would have put it anyway.
So I finally made my way to the park and got to have a look around. The Casa Rosada is just that, a pink house. You might be wondering what’s so special about this pink house. First, it’s equivalent to the White House. The Argentine president does his daily work there, although I’m told it’s not where he lives. Second, this very humble looking building is where Evita gave her speech that is so famous. I’m sure I actually saw the balcony she stood on. I made sure to take a look at the whole thing just so I could say I saw it, but I couldn’t tell you which one it was. After that I went to the Cathedral. I like looking at Cathedrals. I’m not religious in any way, but you can’t help feeling like a part of something bigger when you go into one of these amazing places of worship. They have these vaulted ceilings that are just amazing to look at. Tiled floors that are made up of these little squares no more than a half inch per side set in these beautiful flower patterns. Then there are all the monuments inside and the praying areas. This cathedral, like all the other ones I’ve gone to, is not only a tourist attraction; it’s a legitimate church. So there were plenty of people praying at the various altars. Compared to the York Minster, St. Edwards, or Westminster Abbey, it’s very rustic. It’s certainly not as grand when compared to them, but the fact remains that it’s a beautiful building on the inside. I highly recommend it. I never made it to the Cabildo, for two reasons. One, I wasn’t sure which building it was; and two, I didn’t know what the significance is. I have since found out that it is basically the birthplace of Argentinian government.
Sunday, I met up with my two bosses for breakfast and dragged them along on my adventure for the day. I didn’t really drag them, to tell the truth. I more or less said “this is where I’m going, and you can come with me or not.” I’m a very decisive explorer. I know where I want to go and I’m not really willing to change up my plan because someone doesn’t like it. Make your own plan, I’m perfectly happy to go here alone. So the plan for the day was the big cemetery in an area known as the Recoleta. It was a pretty long walk, but it was shaded for the most part. One of the other guys stepped in a little bit of dog doo, which gave me and Glyn a bit of a laugh. I told them before we left, I know exactly where I’m going up until about the half-way point and after that I’m sort of like a stranger in a strange city. No problems though. We found our way to the cemetery easily enough. It’s pretty hard to miss actually. I didn’t really feel like I got enough time to adequately explore it though, so I may go back again next week. I did see the final resting place of Eva Maria Duarte de Peron though. I obviously wasn’t the only one looking for that though. There were quite a few people around her family tomb.
The cemetery itself is possibly the prettiest cemetery I’ve ever seen. There are no headstones sticking out of little humps of grass like what we usually see. These are almost full-on houses for the dead. Some of them have multiple levels, and I’m positive that some of them have a downstairs where the majority of the dead rest. There was one that had a casket partially exposed next to a hole in the wall. I made an uncomfortable joke about the zombie trying to escape. We left soon after. In any case, the cemetery is like a little city within a city and I look forward to going through it again.
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