Buenos Aires Day 6: The Final Journeys

At long last, we will go back to April and the conclusion of my Buenos Aires adventure. I’m not quite sure how I’m so far behind in blogging, except that I keep insisting on doing things and going places, and on chronicling them in obsessive detail here. Anyway, thanks for your patience and continued readership! For my last day in Buenos Aires, I had a late flight, so Cecilia and I decided to visit the San Telmo market. (After morning coffee/pastries, of course.)

San Telmo is the oldest neighborhood in Buenos Aires, and the street fair is lined with world worn colonial buildings. It is a bit touristy (the first time I spotted packs of my American brethren), but totally worth the crowds for the atmosphere. I ended up buying some random jewelry, as I do, and we drank fresh squeezed orange juice as we wandered.

The actual San Telmo Market is held in its own expansive building, where legitimate antiques crowd with curios in individual stalls. The building opened in 1897, and as you can see above it has a beautiful wrought iron structure with huge skylights.

I was of course drawn to these typewriters, sadly too heavy for me to consider taking home, but you could buy pretty much anything you wanted, provided it was old. I saw several amazing pairs of fighting roosters made of metal.

Outside the streets were bustling. It was, after all, Easter Sunday! (Please don’t do the math on how long it’s taken me to blog this.) People seemed extra festive, but then I don’t have another San Telmo day to compare to, so perhaps it is always a party.

We stopped by a cool artsy store that was installed in an old house and also witnessed some of the street performers, ranging from drunken marionettes to mimes portraying Frida Kahlo and the famous tango singer Carlos Gardel.Weirdly, there were two obviously American guys selling salsa or something on the street.

I did stop in a church this Easter Sunday: San Pedro Telmo. Or Our Lady of Bethlehem. I really don’t know.  I’m having a rather hard time confirming its name. What are you for, internet?! Anyway, outside there were guards around an eternal flame and inside there were strangely a lot of dogs, appearing in the floor mosaics and paintings.

Inside the church were beautiful sculptures, although there was something a little off and odd about them, like they’d been carved by people who had never seen other saint statues and were fully committed to believing. Or believed that maybe there was something slightly sinister to people with wings.

It finally came time to go back to the apartment and gather my things for the airport. I saw the Plaza de Mayo one last time and then we boarded the subway. I tried not to think about the fact I wasn’t going to sleep in a bed until after I had already gone back to NYC and worked a full day. (Oh, the woe of adulthood and limited vacation.)

The flight back to New York went smoothly. As always, I wished I could have stayed longer, but I know I will be back. That morning in New York, I got to Astor Place just as the sun was coming up, my mind confused to think that the shoes that were touching the pavement were the same that had not too long before strode over San Telmo’s streets.

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