New blog, new URL

I’m posting at least semi-regularly on my self-hosted WordPress blog, Every Day in Buenos Aires!

I won’t be updating this one very often.

Night out: La Cigale

What is it?
A mixed bar/dance club, sort of, with deejays. Expats, locals and tourists. Mostly straight, with a few gay groups.

Where is it?
25 de Mayo 722, at Cordoba, in El Centro.

How is it?
Fun, loud, very social, and your best bet for clubbing on a Tuesday night in BA. Expensive-ish drinks but no cover charge, or entrada libre.

The big question, Would I go back?

Yes, but only with a group of people and some patience. After all, we got as the sun was coming up. But that’s not all that unusual for either hostel life, or BA night life, in general.

Friday night is ElectroShock night, which sounds like fun.

Read the full review here on my main blog.

First impressions: Angel’s Disco

Angel’s

What is it?
A gay disco, with a handful of straight couples.
Where is it?
Viamonte 2168
Nearest subway station is Facultad de Medicina
How is it?
A little bit trashy, fun, cruisy, and inexpensive.
When is it?
Fridays and Saturdays only, from 1 am.
How much is it?
20 pesos entry fee, which includes 3 drinks. Small beers and well drinks are 5 pesos each, or around $1.50 USD…

Read the rest of this entry on Every Day in BA!

Recommended Restaurant: Las Pencas in San Telmo, Buenos Aires

I’ve eaten three times at this small, quaint (I hate using that word, but with the lovely naïf folk-art on the walls, it applies.) restaurant on the corner of Estados Unidos and Bolivar in San Telmo. Every time has felt like a good deal, satisfying in terms of portion-size and flavor, as well as being attractively presented. That’s an academic way of saying I enjoyed my meals here quite a bit. My companions have enjoyed theirs as well, bringing the total meals enjoyed to 7. All great…

…Read the full entry on my main blog here.

Recommended Hostel: Ostinatto in San Telmo

I can’t exactly give a whole-hearted recommendation for this cool modern hostel in the San Telmo barrio in Buenos Aires. Because I haven’t slept there or even seen any of the rooms. But after spending a few hours partying on their open-air terrace, meeting one of the owners whose birthday we were celebrating, and talking to a couple of my backpacking buddies who are staying there, I can assure you, you won’t be disappointed.

The hostel is six floors of modern, airy single, double and dorm rooms, very reasonably-priced. The top floor has a penthouse of sorts, with a kitchen a half-floor down, equipped with its own grill for an Argentinian-style all-beef asado, or BBQ.

Both Art Factory, where I’m staying still, and Garden House, also owned by the same folks that run Art Factory, are nearby. Everyone seems to know each other, and although I’m sure there’s competition, there appears to plenty of backpackers and budget travelers to go around. Plentiful wine and beer also helps. At least it did when I was there : Two Art Factory owners attended the party.

That tells you a lot about Buenos Aires right there.

Fancy Flash web site here. Lonely Planet review here.

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Language lessons

Although I had four years of Spanish in high school — and was considered by my teacher the finest student he’d ever had — that was a long time ago. I’ve forgotten a lot. My little brass-plated medal doesn’t mean that much so many years later.

Still, I have had no trouble ordering basic food in restaurants and understanding how much I’m being charged in shops. (The tendency for some porteños to drop the final “s” on some words has thrown me a few times, however; not to mention the regional preference for pronouncing the doublel l as “zh” instead of “yh.”)

It’s a basic terror of travel: Not understanding or not being able to make oneself understood. Given my own peculiar strain of social avoidance anxiety, I suffer from that terror, probably, more than most. But, I think I turned a corner today, and the brief Spanish lesson that Art Factory provided yesterday increased my confidence. I understood about 80% of what the instructor spoke.

So when I went to buy replacement shoelaces for my big black boots (There were several knots in the left boot’s, attempting to keep the laces together or one more day) I spoke entirely in Spanish, except for not knowing how to say “holes.”

“Quisieras comprar los cardones,” I said confidently.

“Que color?” he asked.

“Negro, por favor.”

Then I added, “Doce, uh,” then lifted up one foot and pointed to my big black boots to show him how many holes, what length I wanted.

The genial older man behind the shoe counter, which was tucked in the back of a typical kiosco in San Telmo and not visible from the street, smiled and gave me what I wanted. Probably amused as much at my attempt at commercial Spanish as at anything else.

Nevertheless, I felt good about it, and then went to a supermercado to buy my first sack of groceries to cook my first meal in the hostel.

Argentines make it much easier to speak Spanish than Czechs ever made to speak Czech. They’re pleased. In general, Czech were contemptuous, as they are about so many things regarding foreigners.

I’ve been saying it to myself a lot lately, but I felt it again as I sat in the sun on the terrace outside my dorm room, drank a beer and slurped up fettucine and salsa:

I think I could really live here.

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Tags: language, Spanish, orientation, shopping, personal stories

Hostel Review: Palermo House, Palermo Viejo, Buenos Aires, AR

I think I was spoiled a bit by Art Factory. Me and Palermo House just never hit it off. Come to think of it, I didn’t hit it off with anyone at PH as I had at AF, which has quite a bit to do, I’m sure, with the average age of the folks staying there. 21, maybe, if that?

There are two main reasons why you might want to stay at Palermo House. One is that it’s cheap and two is that it’s in Palermo, a wonderful, somewhat upscale neighborhood stuffed full of restaurants, bars and clubs. (Busy, bustling Plaza Serrano is two blocks away but you gotta eat at almost-next door Gardelito. All of the staff did, for good reason. Besides being inexpensive and giving a big bang for your buck, they also deliver.)

While not what I would consider a party hostel, PH’s upstairs common room was often full, and could get kinda loud; which is great, if that’s what you’re looking for. I wasn’t really. Except when the cute travelling muscians played: With the rain pattering on the steel roof, I was charmed by the rough, but sweet harmonizing. Still, the big, wonderful lounge area is lit during the day by a whole wall of glass doors and you can relax outside on the small terrace just off to the side.

And that’s most of the good things I can say about Palermo House.

PROS

• Cheap for the neighborhood: From $11 USD for a bed in a 6-person dorm.
• Big and kinda funky common area and terrace. Beer for sale!
• Smoking allowed in the common area (That’s a plus for me; may not be for you. I got some grumpy American on my ass more than once.)
• Big, well-stocked kitchen with three, large restaurant-size refrigerators.
• Plenty of lockers and storage in the dorm rooms.

CONS

• To be brutally honest, not particularly clean.
• Crappy Internet connections, buggy, crashy computers and totally unreliable wifi
• No soap or towels in the toilets. Ever.
• Things kept breaking. I got stuck for five minutes in the foyer between the two downstairs doors because the buzzer no longer worked. The upstairs toilets would not flush for two days. Nasty.
• Indifferent staff, except for the perky, friendly and completely cute and charming girl from the U.K. The other girl working there had a tiny attitude problem. But a great singing voice!
• Punishing beds, so I never really got a restful night’s sleep.

Not surprisingly, I’m back at Art Factory and using the very reliable and usually fast Internet. The rain’s falling on the skylight and the receptionists are dancing to Michael Jackson. I’m drinking free coffee provided by the somewhat curmudgeonly but endearing maid. I feel a lot better here.

Palermo House
Thames 1754 – Palermo Viejo – Buenos Aires
Tel.: (54 11) 4832 1815 / (54 11 )4833-0625
email: info@palermohouse.com.ar

Tip: Free pizza in Palermo Soho

On Thursday nights, or jueves, Post Street Bar, on Thames Street in Palermo, offers free individual cheese pizzas. With purchase of at least a liter of cerveza in a cold, frosty pitcher. Extra toppings cost just 2 pesos.

It’s a great little place whose walls are covered in graffiti and ribald stencils, many of which would make great tats. There’s also a t-shirt shop on the back terrace. Alterna-types abound, and the blues plays on the speakers. To feel almost like a Chicago dive, all it would need is a jukebox.

YouTube video here.

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Tip: Watch your step

Buenos Aires is unfortunately famous for its dog crap. It’s everywhere, even in nice neighborhoods like Palermo.

So keep your head down and your eyes peeled else you pick up some unwanted souvenirs from the local hounds.

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Tip: Save all your centavos for the next bus ride

If you spend any time at all in Buenos Aires, you’ll want to use the extensive bus system. It only takes coins and the driver has no change.

A typical bus ride will cost between .8 and 1 peso. A chart will be posted on the window just to the right of the machine where you buy your ticket. You won’t have to say anything to the driver unless you’re going a long way. Not likely.

Drop the coins into the receptacle on the top right of the clicking, clucking machine. Once you reach the ticket price, the machine will stop clicking and clucking and issue a little paper strip with your fare printed on it. It’s basically just a receipt since I have yet to see any officials checking tickets.

Hoard those coins. You’ll need them.

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Highly Recommended Hostel: Art Factory in San Telmo, Buenos Aires

[Note: I stayed here two weeks during the very beginning of the tourist season. The feel, and of course, the noise, might be quite different in the height of summer.]

Situated in the quaint and antiquey San Telmo barrio in Buenos Aires, Art Factory Hostel also happens to be one of the best I’ve ever stayed in anywhere in the world; but maybe I feel that way because AFH seems to appeal to an older crowd. Older meaning post-college. In fact, I would guess that’s the reason why the young people I saw never stuck around for very long. With no bar, and no beer for sale, and no smoking in the common area, it’s really, really not a party hostel, at least when I was there.

What it is, is a good opportunity to meet experienced, more or less mature travelers from all over who want to hang out and get to know you a little bit. That’s exactly what happened with me. I ended up staying longer than I would have because of that fact, and had some fun, and some interesting, adult conversations to boot.

The staff are more professional, friendly and helpful than in most hostels. They’re knowledgeable and organize at least one outing into BA for those interested. I also found them to be incredibly accommodating. The three guys in our 6-person dorm were enjoying each others’ company so much that we requested the hostel block anyone else from coming in. (It also had to do with the fact that there were no lockers or storage in the dorm rooms.) The lovely lady who manages the place agreed, as long as we were willing to pay for the extra week up front. Very cool and very unexpected customer service.

The main attraction for me, however, was the hostel itself. Situated in a huge mansion, with art on the walls, claw-footed bathtubs, deep, rambling corridors, and old mosaic tiled floors it was easy to imagine that I was in a bohemian boarding house from the turn of the century. Adding to that ambience was having the dorm rooms on the roof, overlooking the street and surveying the cityscape. There’s even a little bungalow/private room on the roof. Cozy!

PROS:

• Excellent ambiance.
• Reasonable rates, from $9 USD for dorm rooms.
• Good, strong coffee for free all day long.
• Free breakfast.
• Free Internet and wireless network
• Excellent, friendly staff.
• Great beds.
• Plenty of toilets and showers.
• More private rooms and doubles than most hostels.
• Clean and tidy.
• 10% discount on rooms offered after a one-week stay. Ask the staff.

CONS:

• No lockers or personal storage for those staying in dorm rooms. (This might change soon.)
• Common area needs tables and chairs for eating.
• Upstairs toilets are very cramped except for dwarfs.
• A bit far from the party spots in town.
• Small kitchen (but with a big restaurant-quality gas stove.)

Art Factory Hostel, 545 Piedras, San Telmo, Buenos Aires

telephone: (54-11) 4343-1463

e-mail: info at artfactoryba.com.ar

Tip: If you can, sit down when you’re taking the subway

BA’s subway system, called Subte, can get you most places you want to go. Just make sure you’re always checking to see where you are and that you’re sitting down when you do. Announcements of stops and stations occur only sporadically and if you’re standing up, you won’t be able to see what station you’ve pulled into, either because your sight-lines are bad, or because there’s a kiosk selling magazines blocking the signs.

My advice is, before you even enter a subway car, to count the number of stops between where you are and where you want to go. Then keep track as you pull into stations. Otherwise, you’re liable to over- or undershoot. Don’t rely on finding maps inside the cars either. Sometimes they’re there, and sometimes it’s just another advertisement for Pepsi. None of this phases the porteños, or the locals, who obviously have the whole route memorized; so don’t be afraid to ask, “Donde estamos, por favor?” if you don’t where you’re at.

My key is stuck in my dorm room’s lock

“How did you do that?” the sexy lady in big beige boots who works afternoons in the hostel asked me when I showed her the problem.

“I don’t know…I think I put it in wrong.”

She smirked. I must have have blushed, and felt stupid. Doubly so because, as I was taking to her, I was also trying to staunch the blood flow from a shaving cut I’d acquired just a few minutes before. There’s still a big piece of toilet paper stuck to my temple as I write this. I must have cut off the head of a mole? Or something? Ewww.

A big burly construction worker just managed to pry the damn thing out and then showed me which way was the proper way to stick it in. (I must be using these double entendres because I find this guy kinda hot. His lil’ helper’s not bad, either. I’ve always thought chubby Mexican guys with doe eyes but soft, deep voices were an underrated segment of the Latino population in Chicago. There’s a lot of similar guys here, too, in Argentina. Their little bellies are so cute!)

So now I don’t have to babysit the room as punishment for having screwed up the lock. Off to visit my first gay bar, or two. (I tried to keep this blog sexually orientationally neutral, but found it was just too much effort, and not at all in keeping with my writing style or my personality. I hope that anyone can find something of value on this blog, however. Bitch if you don’t.)

Alitalia delivered my luggage!

The troubled airline delivered it right to the hostel, after yesterday calling to confirm the address. I haven’t checked in it to see if anything’s missing — hope not — but at least I’ll be able to change underwear and shave before going out tonight.

Eating out: Unico in Palermo Hollywood

Cut to the chase: Best beef sandwich I’ve ever had in my life, period. None better in Chicago, New York, or anywhere else I’ve had one. Tender and big, grilled, pounded-flat beef loin, complimented with sliced roasted red peppers and an over-easy egg, and served on homemade bread, I was blown away with its flavor. At 6.43 USD, it’s an incredible bargain. The french fries, originally frozen, were only so-so and even worse than that after they got cold — I was eating outside and it’s still slightly brisk here in BA — and the only beers on offer weren’t Argentine — although that big ol’ cold Heineken was actually pretty tasty. Still, they fed me good.

Apparently, Unico is a big hetero pick-up place in the evenings. I was there for lunch and can’t comment on that. See this page, and the links therein, for more on that aspect of this Palermo mainstay. Another, considerably less-impressed take here. When I was there, it was older guys taking business lunch. I observed the same thing all up and down Fitz Roy today, as well.

Unico sits on the corner of Fitz Roy and Honduras in the barrio of Palermo Hollywood. I took Subtle D, the green subway line, to the Palermo stop. Walked down Santa Fe until I hit Fitz Roy, then took Fitz Roy to Honduras. Get a map.

Note: I was originally looking for Provedencia, which sounded promising as recommended by Lonely Planet, but it’s no longer there, unless I’ve gone blind.

Eating out: El Desnivel, Defensa 855, San Telmo

I wandered around lovely, artsy San Telmo this morning and early afternoon, developing an appetite. I finally decided on El Desnivel, which was recommended by the hostel where I’m staying. I wasn’t disappointed.

Plenty of meat was on offer, but rather than what you might think of as typical Argentine cuisine, El Desnivel is Italian-influenced. The pastas are therefore the cheapest dishes on the menu. I looked around the hour and a half I was there and no one ordered any pasta. Meat, meat, meat was the rule. I ordered a stuffed beef roll with mashed potatos and enjoyed it quite a bit. I also “slurged” on a half-litre of serviceable house red, and a basic salad. With tip, I paid just over 14 USD, more than I might have paid in Prague or in Chicago for a typical meal, but filling and very tasty.

By the time I left, El Desnivel was full up with locals and a smattering of English-speaking tourists. There’s a garden out back. Service is slow-ish, as is typical here, I gather, but friendly and efficient.

After all that wine, even after having to ask for la cuenta (the check) twice, I could only say to myself:

Nice people. Good food. I like it here.

Lost luggage update

I should file this under “stuff that only means very much to me, and no one else,” but hey, this is a blog, and ephemera informs the diary format.

I called the company that handles lost luggage for all the airlines at Madrid Barajas Airport. No news on where my bag is, other than it will probably take longer than normal to find it because of Alitalia’s ongoing problems. I could tell that AI wasn’t doing well, from the taciturn and grumpy attitudes of the flight attendants, all-male and, despite the ubiquity of fussed-over and oiled-up hair styles, all-straight, as far I could tell, unlike their counterparts in the U.S.; to the battered, fraying seats; to the bus that took us to the plane, as if the airline couldn’t afford proper gate access. It wouldn’t have surprised me if we had had to scale the plane’s sides like Batman and Robin.

On the phone, I gave the nice Spanish girl my number and address at the hostel (thank the gods for Skype!) and she assured me that they would eventually find my luggage.

I’ve never had trouble with lost luggage in the past because I only rarely checked any in, as when I went to Israel, Jordan and Egypt with my mom’s church group in the 90s. Like Rick Steves, I’m of the opinion that the best way to travel is light and fast, allowing only yourself to be responsible for your belongings. So I’ve always stuffed everything I need in one big backpack and sailed right out the airport doors as soon as I’d landed. Now, however, it’s more problematic to fit everything in one bag, all that’s allowed these days, what with a MacBook and some other electronics in a shoulder bag, 5 books including Lonely Planet’s Argentina, plus everything I own packed up, rather than just a month’s worth of stuff.

Next time I move: One big-ass backpack, no matter how much I have to sacrifice to get it all in there.

They lost my luggage between Prague and Madrid

On my way from Prague to Madrid, where I was scheduled to leave for BA at 11 pm, my luggage was lost. Whether by struggling, may-be-grounded Air Italia, or by unusually efficient Czech airlines, I have no idea. What I do know is that I have no clothes — no change of socks or underwear, no shorts — no backpack, no portable hard drive, no large collection of DVDs, both adult and mainstream, much more of the latter, no jackets or sweaters. Luckily, I don’t think I’ll need much of those, since spring has sprung in Argentina.

I’d be seriously bummed if I weren’t so excited to be out of Czech Republic, which I’d come to loathe as much as it had come to loathe me, and in a brand new place where I actually have some hope of learning the language. In fact, my comprehension of written/printed Spanish is already better than my understanding of Czech. Pretty sad considering I’d spent 5 years there and only managed Tarzan-like Czechlish, at best. Perhaps not so strangely, my comprehension of conversational Czech was much better than that of written Czech, probably because the fact that I heard separate words which were in fact multiple syllables. Czech is weird, especially for English speakers. I never want to speak Czech again, to be honest, although it keeps coming out automatically in restaurants and shops here, confusing the porteños, who think when I say “jo, jo, jo,” that I’m saying “yo, yo, yo,” or “I, I, I.” I’ve also been familiar when I should have been polite, and have been confused by the Argentinian variant of Spanish, where “y” is usually pronounced “zh.”

I’m staying at the large and labyrinthine Garden House Art Factory, in a dorm on the roof. It’s cozy and kinda cool. There are quite a few original arty touches to this hostel housed in a multi-story building, including original paintings on the walls, a two-story mural on the roof-top terrace, a skylight over the common area, and an antique porcelain footed bathtub in the toilets on the first floor. Dorm rates are reasonable, at $11 per night, and the folks who work here are all invariably friendly and helpful. It’s appropriately situated just on the border of antiquey, artsy San Telmo, and very close to the business center of BA, as well as being a short walk from Ave de Mayo, which leads to Plaza de Mayo, the city’s historic center.

BA has surprised me with how urban it is so far. I haven’t had the time or energy (after 16 hours of restless and mostly sleeples travel) to explore the chic areas yet; but what I have seen reminds me more of Chicago than Prague: lots and lots of cars and heavy traffic characterizing by horns-honking constantly and the noxious fumes of dozens of buses. Actually, I’d say that it feels more urban than Chicago, or the Chicago I remember anyway. BA is mostly set out on a grid, with a few easily learned diagonal streets, also much like Chicago. And while the traffic is heavy, it’s not particularly fast-moving. From that I concluded that the best way for me to get around would be by bike. I have years of experience negotiating Chicago’s streets. I’ve also spent substantial time on two wheels in Manhattan, Brooklyn, Cairo, Amsterdam, and a little bit in Berlin. I don’t think I’d have any problem dealing with the sorts of everyday issues I saw yesterday. Counting coup with buses and taxis is part of what makes city-biking so much fun. We’ll see if I can budget for it. What I don’t want to do is go without a helmet, as I’ve done in the past. Getting cautious in my old age.

BA is quite big — 13 million people! In order to save $15 bucks, and to get a feel for the city and its people on public transport, I took bus number 86 into the city from Ezieza Airport, instead of the more expensive but far, far quicker shuttles run by commercial companies. (The bus cost $1.50 AR, or an incredible 48 cents USD.) I wouldn’t recommend bus number 86, however, for any reason, unless, like me, you’re on a severe budget. Lonely Planet says the transit time can be more than two hours. I’d been on the bus, which was packed to its limits, for over two hours before leg cramps and claustrophobia, not to mention a fear that I was somehow on the wrong bus, forced me to push my way to the side door and stumble out onto the hard, dirty sidewalk.

Where I proceeded to get myself lost. But not too much. I was on the right street into the center, I’d just failed, when looking at the map, to take into account how big BA really is. So I walked, and walked, and walked, and it took a little over an hour to even find a street I could also see on the map. Once I did, I had no problem making my way to Plaza de Mayo, taking a short trip on the city’s crowded, quaint wooden subway cars, and from there finding the Art Factory, where I checked in, and konked out, not even bothering to shower.

I struggled awake around 20, cleaned up, and re-dressed, thinking I’d have the energy to venture out to explore BA’s vaunted nightlife. I got as far as buying cigarettes across the street and then decided I didn’t have the presence of mind to even read a map, not to mention following its directions. The hostel also doesn’t have lockers so I would’ve had to take my MacBook with me, through streets which both LP and the woman working at the desk called “dodgy.” I’ll have to make my own mind up about that.

I sort of like dodgy.