Don't die for me, Argentina! (can the meat sweats kill me?)

Monday, October 17 (written the next day)

I left you all mid-day yesterday.  But before I get back into it, I can't answer comments on this blog using either my phone or my stupid little computer.  So, to answer Gulcan, yes we got a sweet deal on our business class tickets.  And Alisma, yes all of our bags made it.  There was nary an issue with our flight, connections, bags or anything else.  Fretting for naught.  Plan for the worst, hope for the best.  Hope won. (update, I just managed to answer a couple of comments but I have no idea how and I can't seem to do it again - I should not be allowed to touch technology)

Back to yesterday.  Actually, after the racetrack, there isn't too much to tell.  We had snagged a couple of tickets to the symphony at Teatro Colon so we headed there for our 8 pm show (don't be late, they lock the doors promptly).  We were in a fourth floor balcony for the riff raff.  The seats were so tight!  So tight!.  They did not build those old theatres for modern day bodies.  I had tiny feet and they barely fit between the seat and the lip of wall protecting the heads in front of us.  

But the theatre is so beautiful, I was easily distracted from my sardine-ness.  It was a full house, standing room only.  It turns out, standing room is an elevated row behind the last seat in the worst boxes.  Savy folks brought little camp stools to sit on.  But the dumb tourists, like we would have been, had to stand.  And again, it is not made for normal sized people.  Tall men were stooped just to see under the overhang.  One group behind us left before the orchestra even hit the stage.  I think i have a bad picture, from a bad angle, in the dark.  

Terrible photo of people who bought terrible tickets,
the seat backs in the bottom left, that is our row

Anyway, crampedness aside, the theatre apparently has one of the best acoustics in the world.  The orchestra arrived and started with a Simple Symphony by B. Britten.  I know this because I looked it up later.  Programs had to be bought.  Between pieces, there was dead silence.  It was disconcerting to have a thousand people just sit there silently as the music stopped.  Another reminder to never clap first!  After three or four pieces of music, the crowd finally made some noise, enthusiastic applause!  I guess everyone but us knew what was going on, the end of the Britten bit.  

This is coming from someone who mostly listens to music on a clock radio in the kitchen so take it as you will, but the acoustics were stunning.  It was like being underwater but the water is music. I thought about how much more my friend Joe, a professional musician, would have appreciated it.  But I loved it. It was very much a strings concert.  The wind section didn't even arrive on stage until bit two. B. BRITTEN Simple Symphony, Op. 4

Next bit (there is probably a proper name other than bit), they rolled out a giant grand piano.  And this tall, lanky, young, blond, floppy-haired man (practically a boy), arrived on stage.  General excitement from the crowd.  He was very good, even I could tell that.  When he finished, the crowd went wild, in their very old, very rich, very symphony-season-pass-holder, way.  Multiple ovations, an encore.  And then intermission.  L. VAN BEETHOVEN Concierto para piano y orquesta n.3 en Do menor, Op. 37

After the concert, reading the program, it turns out the floppy-haired pianist is Canadian!  Jan Lisiecki.

Bit three, ovation, ovation, encore, ovation.  Good night.  WOLFGANG A. MOZART Sinfonía n.38 en Re mayor, K. 504 ¨Praga¨

Here is the program by the way: https://teatrocolon.org.ar/es/temporada-2022/mozarteum-argentino/produccion/mozarteum-argentino-70o-aniversario-funcion-6 

We got out of there around 10:30 and then like good Argentinians, we went for dinner.  I am not good at ordering.  I ordered squash balls with brie.  There were as weird as they sound.  

And then we got home just before midnight to the rave I mentioned in my last post.  

Before I leave to live my Tuesday instead of writing about it, some notes. 

Money.  I honestly don't know what the conversion rate is, actual or back alley blue.  I have been telling myself the technical rate is 100 pesos to one dollar.  US or Canadian dollar?  No idea.  The Blue rate is 200 pesos to a dollar.  Again, no idea if this is even close.  But I am handing out a lot of $500 and $1000 peso bills.  Which is hard to wrap my head around.  When I was winning at the track, it was very exciting to be handed $8000 pesos.  But I suspect this is the only time I will be handed money.  Usually, obviously, it is me handing over great wads of cash.  

In what we are now calling 'the granola incident', I was trying to buy some artisanal granola in a fancy shop.  1 KG is 4000 pesos.  I asked for 200 grams.  800 pesos.  In my defense, I was tired, but I was agast at the price and said, no thank you, too expensive.  Amy pointed out after we left, that converted to around $4.  Oops.  Oh, well, we had to buy granola at the Disco grocery store.  

Language.  I can make myself understood.  But the accent and dialect here is incomprehensible to me.  For example, in mexican spanish, y and ll are pronounced like a Y, in Argentina, they are pronounced like CH.  That is a lot of words that my brain is like 'wha?'  I don't think I have understood a single response yet. Plus they talk really fast here and use lots of words.  Where is a simple yes or no people!  (update, turns out the H sound (J) is pronounced SH.  My name here is Shoanne.)

Stamps.  Which brings me to the post office.  Yesterday, we went to the one around the corner from us.  Stood in line, got to the Caja with another terrible intercom.  I would like to buy stamps please.  Garble, garble.  Blank stare.  I would like to buy stamps please, do you have any?  Garble Garble, expectant stare.  Eventually she wrote down $870.  (almost $9).  For how many?  ONE!!!!  So, probably no postcards for anybody.  

Tuesday, October 18. 

Not too much to tell today.  (update, that doesn't stop my apparently).  We went to the Recoleta Cemetary which is world famous and old and gorgeous.  But what can I say that pictures won't show you.  So, here you go...

Jesus is the hub of the cemetery wheel

Touch the dog's nose for good luck
link for info on this grave

Eva Peron's grave.  Since I didn't make it to her death in my book yet, I learned from a passing tour that she was buried with her birth family since no one knew quite what to do with her body after she died.  The Durante mausoleum is not even on a main path, you kind of have to notice the cluster of people.  The map of the cemetery doesn't make it easy to find either, listing her alphabetically by her maiden name. 

This is one of many plaques.  

Some beautiful headstones and interesting sights.

 

And then this poor soul for whom story (or history?) has it that she was buried alive. Rufina Cambaceres. 

I did not see one cat!

Later that same day (written the next day)

As we were walking to the cemetery, we realized we were in a brew pub district.  There were many places to choose from for lunch.  We literally chose the place with the most comfortable looking chairs.  I need to rest my weary body, not perch like a giant awkward bird on a high stool. We ended up at a place called 70 30.  

Amy calls my food ordering menu roulette.  She is smart and has been ordering things that make sense, like Gnochi and Hamburger.  I on the other hand have ordered mush with mushrooms and squash balls with brie.  So far my only safe order has been empanadas.  At 70 30, we both ordered something new.  Amy ended up with deep fried cheese with tomato jam, totally not what we thought it would be but very good none the less.  I ordered foccacia with mushrooms.  It kind of what I expected but it was a vinegar base (?).  We shared those and added a couple of empanadas.  You will never go hungry if you always add an empanada to your meal.  

Since we were in the neighbourhood, our little tourist map shows a giant flower thing.  What is it?  Let's go look.  What is it:  a giant metal flower sculpture.  I know nothing else.  I used it to practise using different settings on my cameras so be prepared to be dazzled by sepia tones (or whatever, I can't remember which setting is which)

Just it's natural giant metal flower self, filter free

Info on Floralis Generica

And that brings us to dinner.  Finally, Amy and I went for a proper Argentinian meat dinner.  We made a reservation at La Cabrera Palmero in September.  The really good places (at least according to google) book up months in advance.  We had an early dinner - 8:30.  

I'm not even sure how to describe the meal, it was really more of an event.  One should study up on what's going to happen because it all happens at once and then long stretches of waiting.  

First, we were sat.  Then our waiter, who could tell we were tourists and assumed we were cheap (probably correctly) brought over some bread and olives.  He didn't love us, we knew, he definitely liked the table behind us that were ordering all of the wine.  But he did come by occasionally.  

We ordered two steaks.  We had been warned, don't order sides, there will be so much food.  I ordered a glass of red, which he sneakily upsold to a nicer wine but it was lovely so not to worry.  Amy ordered a glass of champagne, which was enormous.  A tumbler size wine glass full.  

Then we got a little tray with little pots of, not sure what to call them, food I suppose.  four ounces each of mashed potato, mashed pumpkin, apple sauce, candied carrots and garlic, ratatouille with an egg, creamed corn, maybe more.  We were at a very small table, it was already full and the main meal hadn't even arrived. 

Then our meat arrived. This is when things really started happening fast.  I don't even think I got a good picture.  Two steaks, with more little pots on the side, were presented, a knife whipped out, and the boneless one was cut in half and placed on our plates. The bone-in steak was deboned and cut in half and left on it's serving tray.  Then some other guy showed up with another rack of little pots of food.  Our waiter used his flashlight to highlight each little pot and tell us what it was and which would we like.  I said I don't know, and he waived his hand and the rack of pots was whisked away.  I guess all he heard was 'no'.  I honestly don't know where one more little pot could have fit on the table but I would have liked to try them.  Oh well.  

Terrible photo but it was all I could get before the cutting started

We didn't get to eat of of them, but I did get a picture 
before they disappeared! 

The steaks.  Magnificent.  That's all I need to say.  I ate more beef in that meal than I have in the last 6 months.  

Amy managed to get shot of the great cutting 

Despite being very full of meat, we ordered a cheesecake to share.  We tried to order the half sampler plate but our waiter told us it was meant for four.  There was not way we could tackle that.  Just as well, our cheesecake came with an ice cream 'garnish' of two scoops of vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce and a sugar cone.  

After we finally finished and got our bill and paid, each of these was an epic event in itself, we left the restaurant at 11:30.  Google said that the Subte closes at 11pm.  How can that be true?  The city is practically just sitting down to dinner at 11pm.  I asked the waiter and he looked at us like the simpletons that we are, no, no the Subte runs all night.  So, we walked the 1.5 km back to the station. Which was closed.  We jumped in a cab, came home and went immediately to bed to moan and clutch our stomachs.

Just in case you didn't have enough food, 
this lollypop tree comes with the bill.