I wasn't particularly planning to go to a club on reflection, but at this rate I'll be stone cold sober and desperate by 2am.
Got up about 2pm today. Walked along Av. Florida, it being one of the guide book's "must dos". To be frank, it's a pedestrianised street with a lot of shops. There's nothing wrong with it but frankly I'm surprised it warrants a mention, let alone an entry in 5 or 6 item list of "must dos".
I went into some quite elegant shopping centre on there (Galeria Pacifico? Not sure) which has some murals in. Quite cool, especially for a shopping centre, but personally I didn't like them much as art. They were slightly washed out and to my naive eye the material seemed a little insipid.
After that had lunch and it was 5pm when I'd finished. So I walked over and had a look at the pink government/presidential palace, then the local Canary Wharf-alike area where the old docks have been done up. Quite attractive.
Very overcast today. It's still warm but a bit more bearably so, although the grey sky is a bit depressing if slightly reminiscent of London.
Went back to the flat after and only left about 9:30pm, I ended up web surfing and reading Joel on Software, of all things.
Three young guys are having a noisy pre-fight-style row in the steet. Well, two of them at least. I think I caught the words 'coger' and 'novia' so I might suspect it's about some woman, but I could well be wrong.
23:40. Left there, wandered and now in what I believe to be Plaza Dorrego in San Telmo. There's a certain amount of life but I am at a table (of which there are loads free) in the square attached to some random bar. No large bottles of beer or large draught and I don't think there will be any chat here due to the lack of a bar to prop myself up at. Probably have a couple and try to soak up the atmosphere a bit then go for a wander again.
A couple of guys are playing music in the square, I can't really classify it except to say that it's vaguely jolly and it sounds a bit like one of them is playing an acccordion.
They keep giving me peanuts in the shell as a free snack. Which is quite nice I guess, although I find them a touch bland (although still moreish) after being more used to salted. (A few places have given me salted peanuts or crisps. I can't help thinking that makes more sense for the bar given the salt presumably increases thirst.)
Oh, I asked, as I think I saw on a menu the other day, the typical draught beer (chopp) is 350ml.
There are quite a few groups of mostly youngish people sat round the edges of the square with bottles of beer which I guess they brought with them.
Oh, I bought a copy of The Economist earlier from a street stall in Av. Florida. ARS45 or not far short of eight quid! Still, I haven't bought a copy in the UK for ages but I suspect it's four or five quid even there.
00:15. A guy just came up to me and tried to sell me the local equivalent of the Big Issue. I told him I couldn't read Spanish, he showed me a small quantity of English text on the contents page which I gather (though I didn't read it) explained it was sold by the homeless and for all I know (he said "Big Issue" when I told him I was English) says it is affiliated. I didn't buy it, despite his tempting suggestion that it was cheaper than my beer. Well, so what? Call me a tightarse but it's true. (Almost immediately afterwards had a woman try to sell me a ring and an artist try to - probably - offer to do a portrait. Both of them were put off with an 'ah, no' and a shake of the head.)
It's just slightly too cool for a short-sleeved shirt to be totally comfortable and slightly too warm to put my fleece on.
I think I should be thinking it's very cool to be sat here drinking in a square in Buenos Aires with live music playing, but for some reason I'm not feeling it. I mean, it's OK, but I'm really not having a blast. Maybe I'm just too sober or in the wrong mood.
00:45. Some (very) drunk guy just wandered up and I eventually understood he wanted the leftover peanuts. I was worried he would take the plate and endeavoured to indicate he could have the nuts but not it. So he pulled out the bottom of his T-shirt and tipped them in there. I suppose at least he wasn't particularly rude and didn't ask for money.
01:00. I have nearly finished my beer. I think I will get the bill and wander the considerable distance to somewhere I have a vague idea there is a club (I perhaps stupidly didn't write the name or address down on my phone) which judging from the description in my guide book is not too foul. With luck serendipity will throw somewhere appealing in my way en route and I won't get there.
02:50. Saw couple of bars near the square but they were full enough to be awkward without being so busy they were inviting. Major dead area after and I was busting for a piss, was tempted to go in street but didn't want to be a complete git or arrested. The road I was on turned into Reconquista and I thought fuck it and came down to Kilkenny at 1:40. On my third pint here, it's not great but sod it, I did sort of want to see what it was like late at night and they had a toilet. OK live music when I arrived and slightly shit but passable recorded music playing now. Pretty busy but not totally rammed so it's OK.
The full stop key on my phone is a bit knackered. It takes a hard press to get it to work. Sigh.
3:30 Just got another beer and only paid 14 instead of 15. Cheap either way but I wonder if the guy earlier was on the make. Some remix of Stereo MC's "Connected" playing now. And my phone keyboard is breaking. Full stops are becoming an effort.
Oh, I keep seeing Malvinas posters. One had a date, the war was in 1982. So I was five or six at the time. I must say my 'memories' related to the war are of reading about it in Adrian Mole books probably about the age of 10-11, and that one 'Bottom' episode where Robert Llewelyn plays a Falklands veteran.
If it's not clear, my slightly arsey mention of it in the blog post re the cemetry was solely triggered by continually seeing these reminders. I genuinely thought nothing about the war or the territorial claim until it was continually shoved down my throat while walking around the city. Those probably in a minority guys should get a grip. They have an attractive city and a country about a million times larger than the UK. Just let it fucking go. Their economy may suck, but so do ours (as witness my not saying I find it cheap here), so just shut the fuck up about the islands and get on with it.
04:15. They turned the lights up about ten minutes ago, I assume they are closing soon though the place is far from empty and the music continues. Been thinking, promoted by just hearing that song probably by Guns n Roses about "Paradise City", if the cities I've visited here are lacking in greenery compared to London. My gut feel is they probably are a bit, but I am really not sure. Certainly South Island Place had no or few trees, but then again Kennington Park was just down the road. There may be parks here but in London you don't have to seek them out just for green. (I do mean cities very specifically. Easter Island was quite green, as I think was Isla Navarino.)
I am reminded of something I think I read in my Bradt guide about Pinochet saying he would like to loan Chile to the UK for a few years to learn a few things (I suspect I mangle the quote, but whatever.) I can't help thinking nowadays it wouldn't hurt to loan the UK to Chile, from the non-economic perspective of a UK citizen who finds the place a bit repressive compared to Chile.
04:30. I'm not certain they would refuse to serve me another drink, but it is definitely getting quieter and while I'm sober enough to write this with no major problems beyond the dying keyboard I'm close enough to being properly drunk there's no point pushing it. Not a bad night considering I haven't had a chat, nothing great but OK. But probably better just to go home. It's about a ten minute walk, a bit of a pisser but no big deal. I may deliberately take a taxi during the day tomorrow even if I don't need it just to get some feel for how they work, then I can maybe go out somewhere remote at night with a bit more confidence about getting back without being mugged or ripped off.
As I write this I am suddenly feeling a bit drunk. It's cool, I'm near home and there's no double vision or anything, but yeah, even if I could get another there's no reason to. To bed!
(Yeah, loads of stools on top of tables as I leave. I strongly suspect I couldn't have another there even if I wanted to, and even were it possible I have no desire to try and get into a club at this time of night/morning. May try a club tomorrow, we'll see how I feel. I may even stay in the flat til 1am and then go out, though that sounds awkward on so many levels.)
04:50. Just got home. I may be imagining it but I can't help thinking the streets and public spaces, even just on my walk home, are a lot more spacious than they are in London. I did walk past a greenish area on the way but it did have a certain forced quality about it. For all the ways it sucks, it may be true that London is greener than here
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