Buenos Aires – Hallelujah
While we are a good chunk of time (and money) behind schedule, the feeling of setting foot on the plane that will finally get us to Argentina is invigorating. It’s our own watered-down version of the movie Argo, where you watch breathlessly as the gate agent checks some documents, ask some questions, check some more documents, types furiously into her terminal, ask some more questions, and then, just when you think something horrible is about to happen, hands you a boarding pass.
As excited as we are to finally be leaving Sao Paulo, it is past 3am and a few minutes after wheels up, we are both fast asleep. A few hours later, with daylight just breaking on the horizon, we touch down, some 37 hours after leaving Seattle. Equipped with our extremely expensive (all things considered) Reciprocity Fee documents, we sail through immigration and are quickly in a cab to our hotel.
Our original plan upon arriving was to grab a few hours of sleep and then rally in time for our 12:15 appointment at the Brazilian consulate to arrange for our visas. That quickly goes out the window, as once we verify we will be able to take care of that in Mendoza, blackout curtains and a very comfortable bed seem far more appealing. Of course it adds a bit more uncertainty to an already uncertain process, but it’s as crazy and spontaneous as we get these days, so full marks for that.
We are staying right downtown in Buenos Aires, so within walking distance of most of the things we plan on seeing (which admittedly is a pretty short list). The first order of business is a local SIM card for my phone and to change some money on the black market. With currency controls in place, getting Argentine Pesos at an ATM or exchanging US Dollars at the bank nets you just over 8 pesos per dollar. The demand for dollars is far greater than that though, so an entire network has developed to exchange currency at what is called the Blue Dollar rate, which is closer to 14. It is technically illegal, but as we walk down Florida street (which our concierge has directed us to), there are police casually standing around, not far from those leaning against buildings chanting “cambio, cambio”.
Aside from breaking the law (we are such rebels), the risk, of course, is counterfeiters, so it takes us a while to settle on the most savory of people in an unsavory business and approach them. After exchanging a bit of information (how much are we looking to exchange, what size of bills (bigger bills get a better rate than smaller), etc.), we are guided into a shop selling leather goods, but that is clearly doing more business swapping dollars for pesos. We try to look savvy by holding the bills up to the lights looking for watermarks and the woven plastic strips that are supposed to be difficult to copy, but the reality is we’re noobs, and have no idea whether we’ve just been handed a fistful of Monopoly money.
If you’ve ever bought tickets to an event on Craigslist or eBay, there is always that moment when you hand them to the person at the turnstile with the scanner, and you’re sure it’s going to emit a loud buzz or set off some kind of alarm drawing attention to the fact that you are trying to pass off a fake. As I hand the first of our stack of newly acquired pesos to the cashier at a nearby bakery, I have the exactly same feeling, washed away seconds later by a sense of relief as no alarm sounds and business just carries on as usual. We’re outlaws now, sticking it to the man, and it feels good.
As we started the day late, we don’t have time for much sightseeing, but try to squeeze in a trip to the cemetery in the Recoleta district. It’s a famous place, to some degree because Eva Peron is buried there, but in general because it is more like a small city than a cemetery. Unfortunately, by the time we wander through the adjoining church (my travel companion has yet to meet a church that doesn’t require wandering through), the gates are closed and we are stuck on the outside looking in.
With nothing else really on the agenda for today, we spend the rest of the afternoon just walking the streets aimlessly. As big cities go, we really do like this one. It has a very European feel to it with wide boulevards, soaring trees and classical architecture. Combined with perfect weather (sunny and high seventies), I ask myself the age old question, “why Seattle, exactly?”.
What is missing are street vendors. In my mind, I had envisioned grills set up on every corner, filling the air with the smell of various meats, cooked up and served on a stick for easy consumption. Perhaps that is common in other towns, or even less touristy parts of Buenos Aires, but so far we have come up completely empty.
Even though the locals will be out until well after midnight (most people don’t go out for dinner until 10 or 11pm), we’re still not on Argentina time, so after a few snacks at the hotel, turn in for the first real night’s sleep in three days.