Day 3 - We are alive and well in streets of Paris!

Today, is day 3 and if I limp, Ingrid is threatening me with molar tooth extraction as both my veritable wisdom and, my wisdom teeth were taken ¨a long time ago¨ according to her. We start the day at this internet cafe. Our afternoon is more sightseeing; tomorrow we have booked a Tango spectacular theatre/meal and the weekend may bring us Montevideo travel!

First busker

So here is my daily blog: Thursday, January 31st Each day, each hour and this city grows on us so much we are starting to smell like diesel fuel, feel like we are 12 lanes wide, and do not sleep! I talked of its history yesterday. This reveals itself at the hint of a question at the blink of thought. History is also a country's culture and of course vice-versa. BA culture hides in the humidity and dust until one feels the breezes of late day/early evening and then it sorta 'Tangos' through the streets in hand with:

Argentinian ice-cream to die for

*buskers, mimes, panpipes and chica accordions played on street corners - some for solicitation of a living, and others for the love of acting and playing;

*unique and oft-talked about Argentinian ice cream, drips down our fingers despite the cute little 'mandatory' spoons given to catch such melt;

*BA coffee, usually an espresso to us, and cafes are to each bario what a designer outlet is to Rodeo Drive in Hollywood. Pride is the name...;

*architectural photo-ops abound around every corner, looking high into the constant cloudless, deep blue of BA's atmospheric backdrop surrounding chiseled and sculptured copulas and domes etched with the pollution of a century or more, hiding a lot but revealing a little of truths denied to historians.

Obelisk

Today BA becomes alive; we feel it kicking like a child in a womb, hear its heart in time with, and against our own, and we taste the salt of its sweat, signifying the hundred's of thousands of workers who have contributed each in his own way to creating, during 500 years, the resonance of the city's soul today.

The Obelisk,is representative of BA - an icon not unlike Eiffel Tower to France, the Statue of Liberty to USA or the Space Tower to Toronto (a country of its own somewhat North of here and close to Canada). The Palace de Congresso, the Plaza de Mayo and the long, long, VERY long pedestrian mall named Av. Florida; all of these were seen, photographed, looked at, studied and like history over 3/4 of it was forgotten by the time we moved on. But, thank gosh for little black books and German wives with very good memories.

eating on patio

It was an extraordinarily full day, limping all over MicroCentre for hours on end reading this chapter of the city, page by page and often dwelling on the lines, pausing at the wonders and pausing in awe and/or wonder. We feel good that we successfully accessed the internet; that we purchased postcards, and that we had our photos to date put on a disk for added protection. We were not feeling so good about the attempts we have made to purchase stamps for the postcards. It is against the law to purchase stamps, put them on postcards and/or mail them - in certain parts of this city. That is to say, all the parts we have been to so

far... ;-D.

Changing of dressing by qualified surgeon

Exhausted, we come home to a gourmet meal of the remaining cereal in our cupboard, our last peach and the two remaining apples. We nestle under the covers long past midnight telling ourselves to get up before our maid arrives at 10:30am. One final dressing on my amputated leg, another attempt to re-twist my ankle in the reverse direction of the roadway's bite marks and la la la- sleep draws the day away from us.