Arriving in Buneos Aires

I said a sad goodbye to Josh at Auckland airport and Susie and I walked through customs. When we got on the plane, I had the window seat but I was squashed against the wall with a nice Argentinan couple next to me. I had just asked the man to put my bag in the overhead locker through sign language when the air attendant asked if I would like to be upgraded to sit with Susie on a skycouch. We said yes and got three seats all to ourselves. You could lift the footrests to create a 'couch' but we would have to spoon in order to both lay down. It was very comfortable being able to have your feet up while watching movies though. I felt like I didn't sleep at all but I must have because Susie told me about some drama between a grumpy passenger and a young family with a screaming baby that I hadn't heard at all. 

After nothing but a blinding blanket of clouds for hours, we descended into a very green, cloudy and smoggy city. The foliage wasn't like a jungle, more like Bush, but it had a deep hue to it. The airport was very straightforward and everyone spoke English after you looked at them blankly. We collected our bags and queued for almost 30 minutes at a money exchange with no air conditioning. I practised my Spanish numbers with the teller. We booked and paid for a taxi to the city with Taxi Ezeiza. The streets as we drove past looked similar to wealthy parts of South East Asia but also Sydney in terms of the architecture and terraced houses. 

Checked in to the hostel - Chill House. It is an old restored tango house, filled with stained glass windows, whitewashed wals, plants, terraces and a rooftop garden. Our room had a double and single bed, it was quite simple but nice. We went to find dinner at Musetta, but went the wrong way and walked around the streets for several blocks in the wrong direction. I didn't feel unsafe, there were lots of other solo females wandering around too, one even asked us for directions. We went into a dairy to find a place to read the map, but then couldn't leave without buying something. Everyone else was doing big shops and we had one packet of crackers. The checkout operator spoke Spanish and I could actually understand him, but not if he was asking a question or just saying a statement. Two pesos change? So I totally blanked and it was really embarrassing. 

Eventually, after doubling back to the hostel and starting again, we found Musetta. It was a restaurant on a corner filled with books and a piano, it felt safe and homely. Everyone who worked there was very trendy and alternative, they greeted us with 'Hola chicas'. And they spoke English too. We had a huge glass of rich and smooth Malbec, and the dish of the day - zucchini risotto. They served it with coffee-whipped butter and bread.

A strange thing happened at the restaurant, at first we thought a car had backfired, but then there we were about 10 minutes of gunshot noises or fireworks that echoed so loudly in the bar. Big flashes bounced off the buildings outside. No one at any other tables even flinched. I asked our waitress and she explained there was a parade or protest on that related to football somehow. We made it home with no problems.