Destination: Buenos Aires.

It's Tango Time! :)

The first thing the girls wanted to know when I suggested South America as our second girls' trip destination this year was, "Why Buenos Aires?" My answer was simplicity at its finest.

I like wine, red meat, tango, and beautiful men.

It's Saturday, April 10th, and I'm boarding a plane at 6:00 a.m. to Houston for a connecting flight to Buenos Aires. It's a clear day and I have an exit window seat, which doesn't make it any less scary for people who are terrified of flying like myself. Nevertheless, we're off. I've arrived at IAH airport and it's a rainy, gloomy day. I have a 12 hour layover and I'm pondering, what exactly does one do at an airport with so much time to kill? (blog coming soon) Anyhow, I love the rain, and contrary to what most weary passengers may be feeling at the moment, I think it's beautiful outside.

At the airport I peruse over some books to kill the boredom. I see this and feel compelled to snap a picture. If this insect can have a book deal then certainly I can write one too, no?

Olivia meets me in Houston halfway through the day. At a little past eleven at night, we board our flight down to Argentina's capital. One incredibly bumpy ride and two trays of shitty food later, we arrive at the Sheraton Libertador in Avenida Cordoba. This room is where three girls make way too much noise with none of the action. I feel sorry for housekeeping, but at least we're good tippers.

We've unpack our things and it's time to start this day off right. Below are the welcoming spirits. Breakfast of champions my people.

The currency here (just like in Europe and anywhere else for that matter) looks -and spends- just like monopoly money. See for yourself.

Prior to leaving our room and venturing out, I take this picture of our view. Our prototype boyfriend is there to greet us every morning. Hotness on a stick!

It's a beautiful Sunday in Buenos Aires and we're cabbing it down to the ghetto to eat some meat at a restaurant called El Trapiche, highly recommended by Travelers' Magazine.

Cab driver gets lost and drops us off five blocks from the restaurant. We walk the rest of the way and I snap this picture. If you're a girl coming to Buenos Aires, bring flats. Heels, wedges, or anything else that's high, will NOT work in the cobbled streets.

We arrive at El Trapiche and order two national beers; the waiter suggests we only order one. When it comes, we realize why. For the most part, beers in Buenos Aires are the size of what us Miami people like to call "a forty". In other words, HUGE!

One bottle of this down and we order fried calamari. They're de-lish. This plate feeds at least four people and the price in dollars is $7.00.

After our calamari we indulge in some skirt steak, which in Buenos Aires people refer to as entraña. I'm not too impressed with the entraña from El Trapiche (my apologies to Travelers' Magazine). Seriously? It's like chewing a tire.I tell Olivia I think I swallowed a tooth while trying to fight with my entraña. She almost chokes on her wine (which was way better than the meat I might add).Turns out it was just a piece of bone and not a tooth. What can I say, I'm an ass kicker. More wine please.

After lunch we pack the leftover steaks and decide to walk around this questionable neighborhood, venturing out a little. The restaurant refuses to call us a cab (even though we tipped generously). Whatever. As we walk, I immediately fall in love with all the trees in the city, which are totally giving me an army camouflage vibe.

We walk for a few blocks and find a cab. He takes us to a tiny little Brazilian bar where we pick up some Brahma forties and five minutes later he drops us off at a park. Porteños (people from Buenos Aires) love themselves some outdoor action on the weekends. What better day for a picnic?

We attempt to drink our forties but fail miserably because we're stuffed. I spread my shawl on the grass and lay down only to wake up two hours later, still clothed and holding my beer in my right hand. I guess Argentinians are decent people. Cheers!

There's a gorgeous mango tree up above, I snap this for your viewing pleasure.

I also take this random picture of Olivia laying down. I cringe when I realize that my hand's shadow is in quite the questionable place :) Whoops.

As we exit the park we see these people practicing for some sort of trapeze show. I love Cirque du Soleil, especially when it's free.

It's somewhere around 10:00 p.m. and we're headed to Asia de Cuba in the Puerto Madero district for some sushi and drinks. No one seems to know of a place for partying on a Sunday (friggin' weird), but we're sure we'll find our way. Below is a picture of La Universidad de Buenos Aires or like the porteños call it, la facultad. From the ouside, it looks exactly like the MET museum in NYC. My camera's cheap so no complaining about my amateur photography skills.

Below is a dark picture of the view from Asia de Cuba at Puerto Madero, which is one of the main dining and entertainment areas of the city. From Wednesday to Saturday it is bustling with life. Tonight, you can hear crickets. It's just Olivia, yours truly, and some french tourists at a nearby table.

We wait 25 minutes for someone to come fetch our order. Um, it never happens. The service in Buenos Aires (and all of Argentina according to some) is one of the worst worldwide. No one cares about the customer because most people don't tip, but even if you do tip, the tip is usually shared. So word to the wise? If you want your drink, you need to go get it yourself.

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While I'm inside Asia de Cuba trying to hustle for some drinks (picture below), Olivia asks two guys who are walking by our table if there's a place to party tonight. Three rounds of drinks and some chit chat later, we're on the way to Esperanto (Sunday's hot spot) with Andres and Lucas, where we have a VIP table waiting for us. Things are looking up.

The bathrooms at Esperanto have quite the appeal don't you think? We should have some like this in Miami. Only one little problem, most bathrooms in Buenos Aires are unisex, which can be good or bad, depending on what you're going to the bathroom for.

Before they turn on the music and you're allowed to dance at most B.A. clubs, you have to watch a show. People love these "shows" but I'll be the first to tell you, it's just a bunch of wannabe American Idol rejects who sound like drunks singing karaoke, whatevs. There's lots of champagne at the table so I'll endure it for a little bit.After karaoke and a bikini fashion show, the music blasts off and we're allowed to dance. There's a fat little gay guy who dances the best SALSA in the world. I leave Lucas at the table and proceed to dance with Mr. Happy Feet for the rest of the night. Four bottles of champagne later we all stumble over to a hot dog stand and devour a few with some beers. Not very diferent from a typical South Beach night. Here's a pic of Olivia and our buddy Andres, before the dancing and the sweating.

Below is Lucas posing with a new lamp he just bought. The boys have to work in about an hour so they get a junior suite for us and leave us to sleep (Andres works in the hospitality industry). So far, people in Argentina are nicer than we thought.

It's noon time and Olivia and I have arrived at our hotel (one of the top three walks of shame ever). Buenos Aires has lots of cabs, just like New York. I take this picture from our hotel room, still wearing last night's dress as you can see.

A restaurant by the name of Puerto del Carmen becomes our usual breakfast spot. Below, our daily breakfast menu.

It's Monday morning and we've slept about four hours. After breakfast we decide to go to La Libreria Ateneo. This book store was once an opera house/movie palace and I must confess I've never seen anything so majestic as far as book stores are concerned. Even in my exquisite hungover state, I can admire its grandeur. The Splendid Ateneo has retained its original balconies and painted ceilings. You can actually sit in a theater box to read and sip coffee, making for a beautiful afternoon. I think I'm in love.

After Olivia indulges me for about an hour in my Ateneo drool fest, we take a cab to the Japanese Gardens. On the way, I ask the cabbie to stop so I can snap a picture of the Floralis Generica. This striking piece of art was a gift from architect Eduardo Catalano and has been standing since 2002. The flower begins to open at dawn and closes at sun down, making it a pivotal stop for many tourists.

When we arrive at the Japanese Gardens, I attempt to pet this horse. She turns and snorts loudly, almost kicking me in the process. Her owner says that "Coca is in a bad mood today" (and here I thought I was the only one with temper issues).

We proceed to spend a beautiful afternoon at the Japanese Gardens, with the sun shining brightly above us and a light breeze whipping the trees. The gardens opened in 1967 and boast a restaurant, ice cream shops, a bar, samurai sculptures, lush greenery, and way too many koi fish to count. For 30 cents (US dollar) you can feed the fishies, which swim up to the surface with their mouths open as soon as they see you approaching (cocky little bastards).

Upon exiting the gardens we pay Coca's owner twenty-five dollars for a carriage ride around Los Bosques de Palermo. He asks if we like carriage rides. "No", I say, "we just want a peaceful place to drink our beers."

After a much needed nap, we head out to dinner at a place called Maleva Resto-Bar in the Plaza Serrano area. We order a yummy tapas platter of steak, roasted potatoes, meatballs, and a bunch of other stuff I can't remember. Six caipiroskas (like a Brazilian caipirinha but with vodka) and we're ready to hit the town. No one knows what to do because "it's Monday" so as usual, we find our own way. After asking what feels like a hundred people, it really seems there isn't anything to do in Buenos Aires on a Monday. Okay.....

We end up at Bar Unico in the Palermo disctrict, where we meet some super cool people and shoot the shit for a while. Among our group is a Swedish couple on their honeymoon, a millionaire whose taken two years off "just to travel", a chef whose been cooking all over the world but is currently an apprentice at Casa Cruz, and a super cool dude from L.A. who came to Buenos Aires six months ago and hasn't had the heart to leave. We drink vodka tonics and red wine for hours and end up having a pretty chill night, yet we still get to our hotel with the sun trailing behind us.

Some time after noon, Cassie arrives from Miami, looking fresh and energized. I feel like a vampire whose suddenly been caught in the sunlight. I pull the covers over my head and croak "ten more minutes". She pulls them off and says she wants to eat meat. I hate her.

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Two hours later we brave the rainy weather and cab it over to La Cabrera, which is located in the Palermo Soho district and is the most amazing parrillada in Buenos Aires (anyone else's opinion is irrelevant).

This is some serious steak business. Check out the knife.

The restaurant is decorated with all sorts of random paintings, these little dresses are all over the walls. Hot air balloons hang from the ceilings, along with other pictures and different types of china.

The food is superb! I can't say enough about how delicious everything is. For our first course, we order the fried cheese, with prosciutto ham and sundried tomatoes. Uh-mazing.

Our second dish is this delicious spanish omelette with potatoes and green peppers. For our main dish, we have the entraña (but of course) with two platters of different sides which include pea salad, hummus, roasted potatoes, apple puree, mashed and sweet potatoes.

In most B.A. restaurants, they bring you lollipops while you wait for your bill. We pay $78.00 (dollars) including a 25% tip for our waiter to cover everything you've seen here, plus two bottles of wine and some champagne. I love this city!

We've napped like queens and it's time to hit the town. It's Tuesday and no one knows where we should go. Our friend Jason recommends we go to Milion, an old remodeled mansion which has been turned into an indoor/outdoor bar, fresh with outside gardens and a fireplace, reminiscent of the Chateau Marmont in L.A. After tapas and three bottles of Chandon Rosé, I go to the bathroom (which is unisex). There are four young girls and two guys smoking pot, they offer me some as soon as I walk in. I decline and ask if they know of a good spot to go for dancing. In between coughs, they say "Kika". Half hour later we're seated at a table at Kika nightclub, listening to hip hop music while proceeding to have four more bottles of Chandon.

At Kika I meet a beautiful boy by the name of Santiago. With green eyes and dark hair, he's totally my type, albeit way too young for me (they follow me I tell you). We dance and make out a little, but nothing more. For some odd reason, I'm not too fond of meeting people on vacation. You can call me old fashioned. After leaving the club and eating breakfast, Santiago gives us a ride back to the hotel 'round seven in the morning. He writes down his number on my hand and I say I'll call, but I don't. It's Wednesday and it hasn't stopped raining since Tuesday morning. We shop a little at Galerias Pacifico which is a beautiful mall indoor that resembles the Vatican.

Afterwards we attempt to have lunch at Dominga, a restaurant in Palermo Soho that doesn't open until 8:00 p.m. By now we are so hungry our stomach juices are eating away at us and all we want is a piece of steak, pronto. Our judgment is cloudy so we enter this bar in hopes that they'll have some food. All they have is wine and cold tomato sandwiches. We exit, but not before taking some pictures.

We end up eating the most disgusting quiche thing-a-ma-bob at a little cafe. I order a glass of wine to wash down the nastiness of it all, but the waitress brings me an entire bottle. Too embarassed to send it back, I try my hardest to drink it, but I'm too weak and still dreaming of steak. I drink half of it and give the other half to the bartender, who drinks it in one gulp and says "muchas gracias". Oh my.

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We decide today is not our day for food and mix drinks at the hotel. After getting ready we head to Las Terrazas, which is this kind of happy hour place that is very popular here in Buenos Aires. The porteños call it, an "after-office". Let me begin by saying that this is NOT your regular happy hour. First off, it starts at 7:00 p.m. but doesn't end until 3:30 in the morning. We walk in to be greeted by the wildest, craziest group of drunks in suits and skirts I've ever seen in my life.

Last Terrazas is huge, with a house room that's indoors and a hip hop/reggae room that's outdoors. Not once in my life have I seen so many beautiful men congregated in one place. I'm in such shock I don't remember to take pictures. I just walk in silence, smiling like a dumb ass and sipping my "vodka speed" while beautiful boys ask me to dance. If you ever make it down here, you must come on a Wednesday night. You won't regret it. TRUST.

In Buenos Aires, its customary for people of the opposite sex to kiss on each cheek when you greet each other, and kiss on the lips when you say goodbye. This can work for or against you, all depending on whether or not you find the person you're greeting attractive. Boy below's totally my type, so .... I'm in favor of the local custom today.
This dude looks EXACTLY like a young Mr. Big from Sex & the City in person, minus the unibrow, of course.Like the songs says, I had one too many drinks. Cassie called it quits round three, while Olivia and I partied 'til five. That is way early by Argentine standards, but it's time for some sleep action.

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It's Thursday and we are determined to have a productive day of sightseeing and zero alcohol. Let's go! We arrive at La Recoleta Cemetery around two in the afternoon, in awe of all the beautiful flowers planted in the outside garden. Recoleta Cemetery is on the top three lists of most important cemeteries in the world. To me, it looks more like a city than a cemetery. Words don't do it justice. The sunshine gods have beamed their light once again and it's another perfect day in Buenos Aires. Cemeteries usually intimidate me, but this one is so pretty you forget where you are. Looking at the pictures in retrospect though, it is a bit spooky.

If you look closely you can see a real cat in this picture. There are loads of them all over the cemetery, initally brought in decades ago to take care of the mice. Now they're just a staple in Recoleta, where old ladies that live in the area bring them food and there are water bowls for them at every corner.

I found this angel as I rounded a corner and thought, "Rough night huh buddy?" I can so sympathize.

Below are three pictures of Eva Peron's tomb. It is under the "Familia Duarte", which is her maiden name. Juan Peron remarried after Eva died (little slut that he was) and so she was buried with her family.

This is the last picture I took at the cemetery (and my favorite from the entire trip). The cat looks so pensive, as if saying "One day, I'll be as big as you. You cowardly lion you."

As we leave the cemetery for Basicila del Pilar, there's a stand with flowers. I love carnations, so you're just forced to look at this picture, whether you want to or not.

As in most Latin countries, Catholicism is the reigning religion in Argentina, and La Basilica del Pilar is a place of worship for those who practice said religion. Located in the Recoleta district, the church was inaugurated in 1732 and made an official national monument in 1942. I won't bore you with more historical details, as this isn't a history blog.

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As a confirmed Catholic myself, I thought it a simple but beautiful institution. You're not allowed to take pictures inside, but what Catholic do you know that follows rules? I snap one, no flash. As we walkout, this man sings a beautiful rendition of "El Dia Que Me Quieras" for us.
Sweet little old man that he was :)

Afterwards we head to Freddo, which is a national ice cream place right across the street. One word, yum.

After pigging out on ice cream we head to Malba Museum, which stands for Museum of Latin American Art of Buenos Aires (English translation obviously). You're not allowed to take pictures, as the guard has informed me with a stony look. I took this one already of Antonio Berni's "Chelsea Hotel", so enjoy. It's Thursday night and a tango show is in order. We choose La Ventana, which isn't overly touristy and costs $60.00 per person. This includes transportation to and from your hotel, and a bottle of wine per person, plus an appetizer. The place is completely packed with people, mainly tourists, but also some tango aficionados. We sit at the front and flirt with every dancer and accordion player on stage. Afterwards, we take a picture with the lead male singer. I highly recommend this venue.

After the show we head to a bar named Congo, where the girl on the right has mixed us one of the best mojitos I've ever had. We meet some new friends from London plus some people from New Mexico and Los Angeles. Apparently, we're not the only Americans who love this city. It's a little past three in the morning and after unsuccessfully trying to find a good place for dancing, we decide to call it a night. But first, we must eat burgers from the best burger stand in the world. Parrilla de Ernesto is close to the roundabout near Puerto Madero. The owner, Ernesto, will make you the meanest burgers you've ever had, fresh to order. Orgasmic people. Here I am making love to all the spicy sauces and condiments he has for your taking.

Spicy + Annah = Heaven

Ernesto!The best I've ever had. And I don't just throw those words around lightly.

Now that we're full and Olivia has our forty, time for some rest.

It's Friday and we're ready for our official Buenos Aires tour. There are way too many pictures for me to describe each one in detail, so bear with me.

Lots of Parisian influence in the architecture, as you can see below.

This picture below is of Plaza de Mayo, and the orange buildling all the way to the back is where the presidents and diplomats come to work. It is also where Eva Peron gave her famous speech many moons ago, and where Madonna filmed that infamous balcony scene for Evita, the movie. In La Catedral Metropolitana de Buenos Aires, lay the remains of Jose de San Martin, an Argentine general who played a major role in winning the independence from Spain. Soldiers guard his tomb round the clock, as well as the tomb of the "Unknown Soldier."

More pictures from our official tour.

Below is a picture of the Russian Orthodox Church, from which Walt Disney is said to have shaped many of his imaginary castles. I took it from the tour bus so you're not allowed to complain on the quality.

La Bombonera Stadium is the official stadium of the Boca Juniors' team and where all soccer fans (half of the country) come to watch their games and get absolutely insane. Argentinians do not take their soccer lightly, so you should enter at your own risk. Our tour guide informed us that if a certain team loses, the fans go so crazy they start throwing whatever they can get their hands on at the people sitting below. You should not be surprised to be hit by a piece of sausage, beer bottle, and yes, even someone's feces. Gross!

Fat little Botero style figurines dancing tango, taken at a souvenir shop in La Boca District.

The pictures below were taken at La Boca, which is a barrio of the capital, located near the old port. It is famous for its colorful houses and its popular pedestrian street, El Caminito.If you look closely, you can see Cassie and I in the background, posing behind the tango stand. Below is a picture of the British Clock Tower, which was a gift from Britain after the completion of the nearby Retiro railroad complex. A free elevator ride will take you all the way to the top. The view is said to be spectacular.

After our long day of touring, we napped (are you surprised?) and then went to dinner at the place to be in Buenos Aires, Casa Cruz. You can only dine by reservation and as is the case with most trendy restaurants, you are made to wait for a half hour while they "set your table". I know it's just a ploy to get us to buy drinks, which we do gladly.

These gorgeous lilly bouquets are on most surfaces at the restaurant.

The inside of Casa Cruz. Don't you just love that back wine cellar? One day I'll have one just like that in my house, but bigger.

As I stated before, my favorite restaurant in Buenos Aires is La Cabrera, but Casa Cruz wasn't too shabby, even though that $300.00 bill was.

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Below are some pictures of our food, including the ever so infamous nipple breads. What in the world? No real purpose to this picture other than for you to see how beautiful my best friend is. *muah* Here she is at Casa Cruz, as we wait for the first of a hundred cab rides tonight.

After dinner, our chef friend sends over some champagne prior to our departure. So cheers.

We drink some shots at the hotel and snap some pictures, prior to heading out.

We first arrive at some crappy bar whose name I don't remember.

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*Good to know: In Buenos Aires, it's all about the hair with the men. Long, frizzy, to the side, in a ponytail, shaved with a little braid in the back. It's like a friggin' hair runway with these men. I like hair so I'm pretty amused by the colorful displays of "hey, look at me!" and the desparate cries for attention. Below, just one of the many odd hair styles I saw. We nicknamed this dude "Hair". I know, so original.

The rest of the night is pretty much a blur. We spent over eighty dollars on cab fare because we didn't like any of the places we went to (spoiled Miami brats that we are). We finally end up at Crobar where we dance until it closes at 7:00 a.m.

We meet some dudes, down some drinks, and that is that. Nothing too eventful really. It's Friday night, or shall I say, Saturday morning and there's a bar called Levitar that closes around noon. I entertain the idea of going there for all of ten seconds, but then decide a bed sounds far more enticing. By this point I'm ready to sleep for ten days and NyQuil myself to death. I'm sick and tired.

We sleep until about 5:00 p.m. on Sunday and now we're ready to visit Cafe Tortoni which is a must for any Buenos Aires visitor. It's been open for over 150 years and is said to be the oldest restaurant in the city. Needless to say, a complete tourist trap. While waiting in line at Tortoni's there's a street dog walking towards us. Inevitably, he comes close to me and my heart melts as I start to pet him. A worker from the restaurant comes and scares the dog away, apologizing for the "street rat". I tell the girls I'm going to go buy the dog a burger and chase after him.

Max (that's what I name him) and I hang out at a corner bar, where I pet his little flea infested body for about a half hour and buy him a ten dollar burger. He eats it with gusto, licking his lips to death once he's finished. My heart breaks into a million pieces as I brace myself to get up and walk away from him and back to Cafe Tortoni. I pray furiously to God that he doesn't follow me, for I don't know if I'll have the heart to send him away if he does. There are tears running down my stupid cheeks as I look back (I'm such a sensitive idiot when it comes to these things). Thankfully, God listens to me and Max is nowhere to be found.

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Back at Tortoni's, I eat the crappiest fifteen dollar sandwich ever and a twelve dollar shake I could have bought for a dollar at McDonald's. I'm over it.

Unbelievably enough it's Saturday night and I go to bed by midnight, after watching some crappy tv with Cassie. Olivia goes off to some party and begs us to join her, but I'm officially off party mode. Sleep mode is on now, and will continue to be on until I leave town tomorrow.
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Tomorrow has come and gone; I overslept and missed my flight. Cassie and I go to the pedestrian street known as Calle Florida, where we shop a little and walk a lot.

Beautiful necklaces such as the ones below are on sale for only three dollars!

It's 5:00 p.m. and we are ready to watch some t.v. and drink this superb bottle of wine that the waiter at La Cabrera gifted us.

My last night in Buenos Aires and I'm watching a show I've resisted watching for as long as I possibly could, The Jersey Shore. That my friends, is the icing on the cake for any trip abroad. Watch really shitty television and deny it to anyone who asks that you actually laughed your ass off and loved every minute of it. Fist pump anyone? It's Monday night and I am off to Houston to catch my connecting flight back to Miami. I try to snap this picture of the Argentinian flag in the shape of a heart, but this adorable little girl jumps in front right as the flash goes off :) Cute!

And we're off. This is my last picture of Buenos Aires as the plane departs.I'm on board a first class flight back to Houston and as I look around me, I have to laugh at the irony of it all. What do normal people do in first class? Mainly sleep and watch tv after their various glasses of wine and their five course meals. What does Annah do? I pray. I chant. I rub my rosary in my sweaty palms and look out the window. I listen to the old guy next to me snoring as the stinging in my eyes tells me "go to sleep!". But there's no sleep for Annah on a plane. Ever. Even if I do have to go into work straight from the airport. Fuck.

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And now, it's Tuesday night and I've worked a pretty good shift at the office. I head home and realize that as always, it was phenomenal. But as the saying goes, there's no place like home (and home is definitely where I want to be). The love of my life greets me as he chews an empty toilet paper roll on my bed. Yup, life is good. Until next time, un beso. *muah*