Sadly today I have a sore head courtesy of large quantities of the above local drink. Fernet. It is what I imagine petrol would taste like, were it bottled and sold as a commercial beverage. The coke masks the taste somewhat, but there is very little that can take away the pain of the resulting headache. I promise I didn´t commit the ultimate Brit-abroad faux pas, and try to remedy the hangover with a Big Mac, fries and coke.*
Last night I went to a fiesta por las chicas (girls´night, for the non-Spanish speakers) at the apartment of a new amigo (amiga?). This also involved my first encounter of Argentinan supermarkets which are stocked with a random array of items, all incredibly bland. As in, everything looks like it´s been bleached. I´ve never seen a less appetizing packet of ham. There is also a distinct lack of dips (which nearly reduced me to tears, when I think of the gallons of hummous available back home...mmm...hoummus...); crisps are wildly over-priced, and I wasn´t convinced that processed cheese slices (also very pale in colour) were an appropriate food item to take to a party. I settled on a couple of bottles of ludicrously cheap, but very tasty red wine (thinking back, perhaps I was too hasty to blame the fernet entirely for today´s pain...)
The nightlife in Buenos Aires is a world away from the 11pm curfew of London. We didn´t leave the apartment until 2am, and upon arriving at the club (8 quid entry with free beer), it was only half full, and didn´t properly start to fill up until gone 3am. Although I was safely (or precariously, given that it´s a top bunk) tucked up in bed by 5am, several of the party stayed out until 7am. Unfortunately, even with flex-age, I´m too old for that!
Today has involved a very leisurely stroll around the parks of Palermo (the posher part of BA), and a visit to the Eva Peron museum. As the ´Evita´soundtrack has been playing continuously on an irritating loop inside my head since I arrived, I felt the best thing to do would be to confront the legend head-on. It didn´t work, and as I wandered around the exhibits, I kept waiting for ´Don´t cry for me Argentina´to be played over some of her video footage, or at least a few pictures of Madonna. I was however disappointed on both counts, and the music continues to repeat on my internal playlist...
Things I have seen people sell on the street today (in addition to the standard crap):
- Home-made scrunchies created from neon rags (as hideous as they sound);
- Nude tights, un-packaged, draped over the shoulder of a large man in a small poncho;
- Rubber chickens;
- Real dogs - a selection of about six fairly large canines, all of whom looked thoroughly depressed, and who I desperately wanted to take home. But, mindful of my lack of rabies-jab I had to leave them for someone else to adopt. You also had to pay extra for the leads and bowls, so it wasn´t as good a deal as it first appeared.
*I totally did....
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