I suppose we did our Argentina visit a little different than most. We didn’t do tango or polo. And because we weren’t there very long, we didn’t do Iguazu. (But let’s pretend we did, thanks to this BA fountain.)
But we walked. I could have just walked and looked at buildings for days. It got to be almost overwhelming how there was amazing architecture everywhere.
We hit the streets on our second day there. We worked out that since it was a Sunday, the presidential palace (a.k.a. Casa Rosada) was open to the public. So we made our way down there, by subway and then on foot.
We ran into a random Polish festival, and possibly a political protest after that.
The Pink House was cool, though the most amazing part about it is that distinctive color. Not quite pink, not quite coral.
The inside was interesting, but the wait for an official tour was something like 45 minutes, so we looked around, checked out gifts to Argentina from the various socialist presidents in the region, then headed back to the street for our next destination.
The thing to do on a Sunday in BA is the San Telmo street market. Part swap meet, part handicrafts, part antiques and 100 percent packed.
My European husband was aghast at the number of Nazi paraphernalia being sold by vendors, like pins, coins and tie clips.
The market runs for blocks and culminates at the Plaza Dorrego, a small plaza ringed with cafes and restaurants. On Sunday, it fills to the brim with antiques hawkers (and tourists).
There was live music all along the way, and vendors of every kind. We stopped for pizza about two-thirds of the way down, and it seemed like every other tourist was Brazilian. So, as we do, we eavesdropped on the family next to us to try to work on our Portuguese.