The Adventure: Day 2 Part 2

I went out to explore. I did not have long in Bs As, and I didn't want to sit in the hotel all afternoon.

It was a beautiful day.

I wandered around for a while: looked at sculpture; watched a woman get a tarot reading; walked past the Recoleta Cultural Center and the Buenos Aires Design. I just wanted to feel the atmosphere, smell the air. No camera, no photographs.

I drank coffee while the sun burned my neck and English pop music played on the radio. I grew hungry and found a restaurant near to the hotel.

"Hola," I said brightly to the man at the door - a short, dark individual with a thick moustache. "Habla Inglesi?" Of course not, but we tried to work our way through the menu between us. He called another, younger man over. Speak English? He shook his head, laughing. The two of them tried to tell me what was on offer, very slowly. A waitress joined us (no), and negotiations continued between the four of us. Then the first man had an idea. He brought over a tray with all the cuts of meat on it, and went through them one-by-one telling me what each was.

Success, I thought, but what about vegetables? We set off again.

Later, I picked a table and asked for some beer. Surely I'm on safer ground here, and so it proved. Danish, American or local? I always drink local beer when I travel (being the seasoned traveller that I am). Why fly halfway around the world just to drink Heineken? Crystal it was.

One meal and two large bottles of Crystal later, I mimed for the check, which I paid with a $50 bill.

Soon after, an elderly gentleman, not involved with the earlier discussions, headed out the door with what looked like my $50 note held gingerly by the edges and with a worried expression upon his face. Time passed. I began to wonder that perhaps it was the custom in Argentina to not give change, you pay what you feel the food is worth, your hosts gratefully accept your payment and patiently wait for you to leave so they can clear the table.

More time passed. I finished my beer. The door opened and in came the elderly gentleman with a smile on his face. "It's good!" He called towards the rear. I got my change soon afer.

I learned later that there are a lot of fake $50s around. Before I left, I thought it best to thank everyone for their patience with the idiot tourist, then I headed back to my hotel.

Travel broadens the mind, I thought, as I fell asleep watching The Simpsons in Spanish.

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Forward to Day 3