48 Hours in Buenos Aires

Gallery, Library, Palace????? No the Waterworks Department

It’s surely one of the most impressive cities in South America, and a must see for any traveler, even folks who prefer the countryside. Having said that, it is a gigantic mass of humanity, and for many, two days and nights could be plenty. So here’s what to see and do to get a good return for 48 hours of your precious time, and without blowing your wad, as in budget, perv….

The most useful subway lines for visitors are the top two, green and red, ‘D’ and ‘B’. The vertical blue line, ‘C’, is also very handy

One thing that will prove to be very efficient and thrifty is to purchase a blue Subte card from kiosks and ticket windows in the subway stations, and there are many. The cost is minimal, so put some credit on there, which for two people for two days is about AR$300, less than US$10. Thus will get you around and downtown and back, as long as it’s before midnight, when the tracks stop dead. This will cut taxi costs by 90%. There are now six lines, and though they don’t cover the entire city, most notably La Boca, but they will get you close to most of the special sites and cool places.

Dog walkers here usually manage packs

I prefer to stay in the vast Palermo neighborhood, which actually encompasses Palermo Viejo, Soho, and Hollywood. This sector contains much of the very best eateries, bars, and nightclubs, so it makes sense to stay here instead of San Telmo, or elsewhere in the city center. I’d rather go there in the daytime and then return to Palermo for serious night tripping.

There are hundreds of affordable places to stay in Palermo, and I always use one of the hotel and hostel websites to locate them. Locations around Plaza Armenia and Plaza Italia are ideal, and basically anywhere in the giant grid surrounded by Santa Fe and Cordoba, and between Scalabrini Ortiz and Arevalo provide walking access to the prime spots.

The Recoleta barrio is mostly quite shiny

So, without further ado, here’s a master plan for extracting the juice from this planet sized city. Hop on the subway, lines B or D and ride to 9 de Julio station, and transfer to line C, there’s no extra charge. Get off and up at Independencia station and walk 5 blocks east to Defensa street, and follow it south to Plaza Dorrego. This is the heart of San Telmo, with heaps of old school BA flavor. There are lots of economical places to eat and drink, and every Sunday a huge street market. From here it’s a leisurely walk north through the Montserrat district to arrive at Plaza Mayo, surrounded by historical buildings and sites. Just a couple of blocks towards the water sits the swank Puerto Madero hood, which seems like it’s a different country altogether. New and modern is the rule here, and it makes for an enjoyable stroll past some landmarks such as the Puente de Las Mujeres, the Women’s Bridge.

Puente de la Mujeres in swank Puerto Madero

Continuing our march, we can trod past the Obelisk, smack dab in the middle of absurdly wide 9 de Julio Avenue, and walk on up Cordoba through the core of downtown or hop on at any subway station, connect to line H and unload at Aguero station. Here it’s a 12 block walk through the scrubbed Recoleta neighborhood, with lots of luxury for sale and rent and one extraordinary cemetery.

No, this isn’t D.C.

This is truly a walled mini city of the dead, with some very over the top tombs, holding the remains of many illustrious ‘Portenos’ such as Eva Peron. For myself, almost as impressive is the enormous Gomero tree in front of the entrance. The shade provided by this mammoth is extraordinary, and some of the lateral branches are now supported by braces. It’s a Swiss family Robinson monster, but don’t try to climb it.

The massive tree in front of La Recoleta cemetery

But back to the cemetery, where many of the mausoleums are like miniature buildings and absurdly gaudy. The closest subway access is the Aguero station on the new H line, which connect lines A, B, D, and E. The cemetery is free, although aficionados of such places may want to contract a guide to help navigate the hive of walkways and seemingly endless tombs. Recoleta is a shiny, expensive part of the city, but this city of the dead is worth an hour or two. After this trek a late lunch and siesta is deserved, so get back to your lodging and take a break. You deserve a brownie or a beer, take your pick.

Tonight is the night to take advantage of early dinner happy hour pricing at one of the first rate beef houses, which is a stalwart of the dining scene in BA. La Cabrera, at the corner of Thames and Cabrera, offers a 40% discount of the total check if you make it in to eat before 7:15. This is hours before the locals even begin to think about dinner and an opportunity to experience prime Argentine cuisine at a decent price. The big ribeye is perfect to share with a salad and a bottle of Malbec, and after this the tank will be full. Time to take a walk a few blocks across the tracks to Palermo Hollywood, and sample a few bars.

San Telmo’s Sunday Street Fair

A great first stop is Frank’s, almost hidden on Arevalo between Conde and Niceto. First pick up the phone and ask to come in, or state your reservation name, Then the bouncer will emerge, give you the once over, and if you’re accepted, let you enter a classy, old school cocktail lounge with a long bar and heavy drinks. Stay as long as you like.
Then, shuffle north and a couple of blocks west to Humboldt, turn right, and enter the Ferona Social Club, another hidden gem with a comfortable rooftop patio and lots of cush sofas and chairs. Our next stop is right around the corner at Carnal, with multi levels and a great place to meet friendly Portenos. Finally, now you’re ready to cross Niceto Vega and go in the fabled Niceto Club, a big place with two sides of music, one always live. This is where you can dance and kick out the jams until the sun comes up, or you hit the wall.

The Whore Mother – Palermo Soho

Day 2 begins with a stroll around Palermo to find some coffee and breakfast, and the choices number in the dozens. After fortification walk south towards the river and check out the vast parks that stretch for several miles along Avenida Libertador. This is where the botanical garden, Japanese Gardens, Rose Gardens, and Modern Art Museum are found, and it’s where the fit folk run, walk, bike, and roll on miles of paths. On a sunny warm day there are heaps of active peeps here, and you can rent a bike, or skates, or a paddle boat and join in.

Sunday at the park

Lunch can be had at a thousand places on the way back to your Palermo pad, and a fave for healthy food is Mark’s Deli & Coffee House, at Armenia and El Salvador. Strolling around Palermo close to Plaza Armenia takes you by every hip clothing store in the city, and the shopping crowd can be very alluring. The choices for everything are countless, spend as much time as needed, but don’t blow your dough on something goofy.

Tonight dinner can be later, as there’s no deadline for anything. A celebrated spot is Nola Gastropub at Gorriti and Alvarez. Nothing fancy, just Cajun cuisine, as in Gumbo, fried chicken, and craft beer. Order off the board, grab your grub and sit outside and survey the scene. They also serve classics like sweetbreads, red beans and rice, and killer cornbread. Load up, kick back, and get ready to pub crawl.

Which begins at BrukBar, on the corner of Costa Rica and Santa Maria de Oro. Classic cocktails and a bunch of party people at a real locals hangout. Another worthy stop is On Tap Craft Beer at Costa Rica and Humboldt, with 20 local beers on tap and a chill vibe. Our main target tonight is Rosebar, a huge Miami Beach type club with a giant dance floor, outside patio, and talent off the charts. Women get dolled up here like it’s New Years Eve, and there’s a cover charge until late for all the dudes. It’s a huge scene, and sits right next to the railroad tracks on Honduras. This is definitely the place you want to be going into the 4th quarter, with the game on the line, if you’ve got it in you.

The White House in Argentina is pink, Casa Rosada

That’s enough to squeeze into 48 hours, especially in this metropolis, and likely enough special memories to reminisce for months. Buenos Aires is a whole lot of city, especially to live in, but for a weekend getaway, it can’t be beat.

Train Train The Slow Roll out of Buenos Aires

Retiro station is one of the classics on the continent

This article has nothing to do with the legendary railroad, the Patagonia Express, which runs in the southern province of Chubut, or the train of the clouds, a tourist line operating out of Salta. This is an account, first hand of course, about the passenger trains operating out of Retiro station in Buenos Aires that rolls to Tucuman and Cordoba in the north.

I was curious about these lines because I had heard that the new administration in Argentina was robustly rebuilding and restoring train lines throughout the north of the country. That may well be true, there is work being done, but ask a local about it and he’ll laugh. Progress is leisurely, to say the least. Never the less, there are a lot of signs claiming that the train is coming back to say, Jujuy, and clearly there is work being done.

So, after futilely trying to purchase tickets on line at the official website for passenger sales, I blindly got to the station one Thursday morning to buy a ticket to get first to Tucuman. This leg would help me get to Salta and further into the Humahuaca Quebrada, north of Jujuy, and close to the border with Bolivia.

I was informed that the tickets to Tucuman were sold out, so I went to Plan B, to try to at least take this train to Rosario, where I would improvise and hop a long distance bus if need be. I was able to make this purchase for 370 Argentine pesos, which was about US$18, a relative bargain for a pullman seat, which has no adjacent seat, the only upgrade from first class, which is slightly cheaper. But if you prefer to have nobody sitting, or sleeping next to you, it’s worth the extra scratch. I boarded the fairly new coach and settled into my seat, # 37. Our departure was slow and steady, rolling out of the giant station yards and rusted hulks, taking a northern vector through the greater metropolis of BA.

It took close to an hour and a half to escape the sprawl and slums of the city, with lots of squalor and garbage visible from my slow rolling window. The average speed at take off never exceeded 25 mph, which would explain the 30 hour scheduled time to complete a journey of 700 miles, incredibly, 4 hours more than when first completed in 1896. Apparently, the continued deterioration of the tracks, and inadequate maintenance all this time, is the reason for the crawl. At many places along the way there are places where workers are busy doing something, and hopefully getting the iron horse back up to speed is the goal.

If you’ve got the time, and a good book, the train is the way to go

The terrain opened up and became rural when we finally got out of the BA suburbs, with lots of horses and dogs everywhere. The dwellings were predominantly concrete blocks or reddish bricks, with lots of rebar sticking out. My fellow travelers were all locals, in all age classes but all economizers like myself. As night fell, we were steadily passing through agricultural country, fields of who knows what, tractors and wide open spaces. Our arrival into Rosario was tedious, like a glacier, and this city appeared to be very spread out with no obvious center. At 8:15 our crawl ended at Rosario Norte, where I assumed I would get off, grab my stuff, and head for the bus station which was not far away. However, as I passed through the station lobby I decided to inquire from the lady at the ticket window if the train continuing on to Tucuman was indeed sold out. She informed me that there actually were seats available, but her computer was not working properly so couldn’t process the transaction. So she emerged from the office, escorted me outside, and asked one of the conductors to assist me and get me on the train. He helpfully complied, walked me back onto the train I had just departed, took me to a first class seat and told me to wait there, while he took my ID and processed my ticket.( As I write this now, the Trenes Argentina website is completely down, so that is a major problem with their operations which you might think would be easy enough to resolve. (Think again.)

So now I was back to my original plan, and after waiting around a few minutes, I got antsy and decided to go find the dude, who had told me that the dining car would be opening at 9pm. I found him on his way to get me, take my cash, and give me a ticket. The only problem was that I only had US dollars and a credit card, neither of which he could take, This temporary snafu was resolved when an affable local, overhearing our conversation, offered to exchange my dollars for pesos, no problem. After a quick calculation of the current rate, he gave me 2040 Argentine pesos for my C note, and I in turn gave 400 of those to the conductor. I celebrated solving this snag with a ham and cheese sandwich, about the only item still available on the menu, along with a sprite for $80. Damned reasonable on a train to nowhere, and I wolfed it down back at my first class seat with no neighbors. There were lots of empty seats here, another indictment of the thoroughly dysfunctional train website.

Settling back into my seat, and wisely getting my down sleeping bag out for a pillow and comforter combo, I contorted myself into every angle to get some sleep. The train seats do not recline much, and the massive metal armrest between seats is immovable and a pain in the ass. Nevertheless I did manage to doze off into spells of tormented sleep, punctuated by bursts of racket, ranging from crying kids, to hacking coughs, scattered ringtones and assorted metallic creaks. The rhythm of the train would soon rock me back into a trance, from which I awoke every half hour or so. I watched a lot of barren landscape roll by, and several abandoned looking settlements, ghostlike reminding me of a Twilight Zone episode. Some, like Ceres, had a dilapidated train station, now almost in ruins, from when the old train used to stop there.

Waking up to early light at 7, I was staring out the window when another tiny burg, Pinto, passed by. Here the houses were made of adobe, much more basic than the south in this dry desert. Lots of mesquite trees, cactus, wire fences and horses and dogs. The only other critters I saw were birds, one of which built jumbo branch nests on top of the old power line poles, some of which were close to washing machine size, similar to the ospreys in Baja California. One after another, but I never did see which fowl was doing all the work.

My train mates were a jovial bunch, many traveling with families, and the bathrooms were kept clean as could be expected. The traffic on the nearby road put our pace to shame, and even some of the birds were leaving us in the dust. The big plus was the hypnotic rhythm of the tracks, canceling out many other more irritating sounds, like the branches rubbing against the exterior of the coach. At Colonia, another one horse town, I hopped off to grab a couple of 10 peso empanadas, nothing fancy but hot and adequate. The train actually performs a maneuver of sorts after leaving Rosario, where by we are now facing backwards, leaving the sensation that we’re heading back to big BA.

Actually, we’re continuing north, the land is flat as a pancake with no hills visible in either direction. The nearby traffic is almost all produce trucks, all covered so I can’t tell what they’re hauling, but not much else besides the odd bus or motorcycle. The desert here is quite lush, prickly stuff, similar to parts of Arizona or Mexico, and a machete would be essential to get through the tangle. Goats seem to have replaced cattle as the primary livestock, probably a better beast for this absolute briar patch of cactus and stickies that would be a problem for most living creatures. A few narrow trails, but very forbidding country.

The sky was solid overcast al day but no rain or big wind. I was getting antsy towards the end of the line, timing our progress against the km markers I would see, but I quit when I realized how slow we were going. Kind of like watching food commercials when you’re hungry. I had a free reservation in Tucuman at a place called La Gurda, where I was looking forward to a hot shower, decent meal, and a cold beer.

The advertised 30 hour ride actually took 31, with an excruciatingly slow arrival in Tucuman that was more like a reentry to earth. This was an ancient looking terminal, with heaps of old cars and locomotives rusting away. There was a huge welcoming mob here awaiting their arrivals, and I unloaded, and staggered through the crowd and out the front door. I got approximate directions to my place, and set off for the 5 block walk to find it. As it turned out, nobody knew of the place, it was semi hidden but directly across the street from a busy police substation. I had a $US 21 dollar private room with shared bathroom and breakfast included. The only negative was the smoking area in a courtyard about 15 feet from my door, so I had to get the group to pipe down twice later that night so I could get some z’s. And that was with earplugs, but it worked out.

After a week spent in Salta, Tilcara, and Calilegua, I arrived via night bus from Salta to Cordoba. It’s a grand city that I will expound upon soon, but this piece is all about the train rides. Despite a gruesome 31 hours on the way from Buenos Aires to Tucuman, I was determined to take my medicine and finish what I started with the 19 hour return to Retiro station. Thus, as soon as I arrived at Cordoba’s bus station I walked directly across the street to the train terminal and bought my ticket for 3 days later, just to make sure I got on……very convenient and $600 for the pullman back, US$29. When I boarded that train, Sunday at midday, I was fighting an exotic cold, and had already bought snacks and water for the trip.

The passengers today were an older bunch, likely returning to the big city after visiting family over the weekend. We pulled out of the station right on time, and again our takeoff could be measured with an hourglass and not a stopwatch. Of course this very poky departure provides plenty of time to study the neighborhoods passed through and examine the city scene with a leisurely, steady eye. The afternoon passed by and I was grateful to have a good book to read. The scape became solid fields and plains for hours, sunset came and went, and back out came my sleeping bag to hunker down with as night fell. The coach was not very full, so as I was looking around for a more comfortable sleeping arrangement, I found a set of unoccupied first class seats with a pair facing each other across a fixed table. I was able to stretch out from one seat beneath the table to get my feet on the facing seat, which enabled me to extend almost flat. This was an improvement on all other configurations so far, and I was able to catch some solid z’s. I awoke as we were entering greater Buenos Aires, and checked out the hordes of commuters heading to work on an early monday morning. We arrived on time at 7:30, I grabbed a cup and croissant in the station, ambled downstairs and boarded the line C subway and lurched across town to Constitucion station. Here I got out on the street, brazil I believe, and walked 13 blocks to Colonia Express, where I waited 3 hours for my boat. When I finally arrived at Tres Cruces bus station in Montevideo, my passage from Cordoba had taken 29 hours total. I’m glad that I did it, but there will likely be no repeat of this mission.