A walk around San Telmo… continued…
the graffiti in Buenos Aires is great, but San Telmo’s was the best.
A walk around San Telmo, memories of mi barrio
This is the last post, so read it last?
Sunday. I rise around 11.20. The France-England game is not on at the Gibraltar pub. But a couple of texts from Jules, a nice young French guy, guides me to another bar with the game on. We are a group of six watching the game, three English, two Irish, one French. I’ve nothing… Read More This is the last post, so read it last?
Monday to Sunday.
I realize with a pang of regret this is my last full week on Buenos Aires. As if to rub salt in the wound, on Monday the heavens open again and it rains heavily all day, for over 8 hours, without pause. This seems to be traditional for Mondays in Buenos Aires. All around the… Read More Monday to Sunday.
Love me Do- Perfect Day.
My Penultimate Saturday. I return from the shops and greet Nefta and Selina chatting in our upstairs kitchen-lounge. I am delighted to see Selina. We haven’t met since she helped me with my Spanish homework, two weeks ago. She soars even higher in my estimation when she tells me I have lost weight, then… Read More Love me Do- Perfect Day.
Mornings after, and the perils of Champagne.
Thursday. It appears to be the morning after the night before. It also appears that bottle of Malbec at Confeteria Ideal last night was unacceptable. Clearly it did not meet my exacting standards. Because- I now recall- I encouraged the Germans to help me finish it quickly. Then I ordered a bucket of champagne. … Read More Mornings after, and the perils of Champagne.
Enter the Tango- Part Two.
I have abandoned my attempts at formal Spanish lessons, I have however, purchased a grammar book. I also try to pick up new vocabulary and expressions as much as possible. I have a foggy notion about continued study back in Dublin. Classes at the Instituto Cervantes maybe? Perhaps an intercambio? My attitude to Tango is… Read More Enter the Tango- Part Two.
Tuesdays and Wednesdays.
Tuesday means a return to the wonderful La Catidral. My Turkish friends from the previous week, Aylin, Aislé, Selen, and Selen’s husband, kindly host me among their group. Occasionally I brave the dancefloor, to find a willing victim, (I mean partner) and dance my unique, shufflling version of the Tango. Back at the table we… Read More Tuesdays and Wednesdays.
Monday 27th, a lunch in Plaza Dorrego.
I meet Maria Horgan, an Irish woman living in Buenos Aires, for lunch at café Todo Mundo in Plaza Dorrego. Maria and I haven’t met before but we have a mutual friend. (Thank you Sarah.) Maria ended up in Buenos Aires after she married an Argentine man. She met her husband in a bar… Read More Monday 27th, a lunch in Plaza Dorrego.
“Money Can’t Buy you Love” … How the West was Lost.
Once apon a time, in a distant galaxy, far, far away…. No, okay, one evening, in the distant foggy past of two or three weeks back… Nadia invites Nefta and I, along with any friends we care to bring, to see Diego perform, or make, one of his black light UV paintings. For regular readers, … Read More “Money Can’t Buy you Love” … How the West was Lost.
Arran Q Henderson 