Busy in Buenos

After a 14 hour flight across the Atlantic we head south, south, south to arrive in Buenos Aires around 10am. We are greeted by a charming Argentiian lady, duly holding a clipboard pronouncing the arrival of Mr. & Mrs. Quinney to ths beautiful city. The taxi whisks us to our hotel on a journey through the streets of BA, a journey that teaches us two things.  Argentinians like to chat, Argentinians do not like to hurry.

The hotel is in the modern, chic district of Palermo. Think of a boutique hotel in Shoreditch and you are on the right lines. The hotel is an old converted mansion, truly shabby chic; quirky, meandering, full of foibles, but ultimately delightful.

Not realising just how much the overnight flight has taken out of your two travellers, we sign up for a cycle tour of the city in the afternoon. (Quinneys, Bicycles what else did you expect). We head off to find cycle man who is just a 15 minute walk away. We roam tree-lined, shady streets keeping out of the sun as much as possible as the heat is oppresive and finally find our man. There are six of us for the tour, 2 x Germans, 2 x Dutch and us. Julien (our guide) is young, full of enthuasiam and loves the city he can't wait to chat to us about.

We set out down the tree lined streets, realising that Buenos Aires is on a strict grid pattern. Every road is at right angles and one way, almost all have separate cycle lanes. It is flat and oh, so simple to cycle along. Our Dutch team-mates think they are still in Holland as they negotiate the trafic like locals.

Julien takes us away from the hub-bub of the centre and through areas of parkland and green spaces. We stop for a tour of the central cememtary, we encounter a huge metal flower, the planetarium and finally, a park where he whips out his thermos flask and makes us a cup of the local brew, Mate. It  is a tea type brew that is shared amongst friends and as we look around us in the park there are small groups of locals gathering around their thermos', making the brew and sipping it down together. We try to be polite and all have a taste, but to be honest (don't tell Julien) it ain't good. It is like a particulalry bitter green tea. It may be called Mate, but if you want to keep your mates, don't feed them Mate.

A really great intro to Buenos Aires and I recccomend it, should you be in town.

We wander back to the hotel. It's now early evening and we are feeling peckish. There is a restaurant around the corner that has been reccomended and we head for it. There are no reservations, just turn up. Outside is a milling throng of people and a rather hassled girl with a clipboard (is this a theme today) taking names and telling when you are likely to get a table. We are told about 15 minutes, so we join the throng. There is a constant stream of people trying to walk in, being politely turned away, their names taken and they are told to join the ever growing crowd. All is calm, all is polite, but the waiting goes on and on and on. Now, I can confess that at this point our nerves were beginning to fray. The flight, the intermittent sleep, the cycle ride were all catching up and our intrepid travellers were beginning to realise this was a step too far. When I say we, I put my hands up, it was I, dear reader, who was reaching the limits of endurance. As I prepared to flourish my grand exit with Mrs. Q. reluctantly in tow, our names were called out and we were allowed entry to the inner sanctum of the beast. Long story short (as some would say), a delicious mel was partaken. this was swiftly followed by a hasty retreat and we hot foot back to the hotel, where your weary travellers barely had the strength to brush their teeth before hitting the pillow and crashing out.

Tomorrow we head to Iguazu and the Falls.