A Wild Week in Buenos Aires... by night

BUENOS AIRES, ARGENTINA - 7th March 2010

Going into far too much detail seems to be my style, but I've already discussed the weirdness of Buenos Aires once so need not do it again. However, one facet of the city that, while weird in some respects, is undoubtedly a factor in giving BA its awesome reputation as a destination for young people is its "working hours". In BA, body clocks run between 3 and 5 hours off what we would consider "normal" back in England - lunch is around 4pm, dinner is not before midnight, and if you're hitting a nightclub you don't bother leaving home till about 2.30am. And you get back home once the sun has risen.

Coming down to BA from Iguazú, this manic lifestyle takes a couple of days getting used to. However, we got into the swing of things fairly well right for Day 1, thanks to a few rounds of Happy Hour 2-beers-for-10-pesos followed by a fantastic couple of rounds of Beer Pong. Having eaten next to nothing all day, Anna was feeling the beers before we'd begun the beer pong festivities, so being a gentleman I obliged to drink whatever her share of pong-related beer she didn't want... which had the predictable enough consequence of sending me down the same path she'd trailblazed. Both happily merry and damn hungry, we sauntered off into the night at about midnight and (somehow) found our way to El Desnivel. Recommended by the LPG and, in no uncertain terms, by Oli and Becca from their time in BA, it would be our first of four visits to enjoy absolutely fantastic steaks and equally fantastic prices. Washed down with a bottle of Malbec, every visit was a gastronomic delight... though the wine was probably ill advised on that first night considering pre-existing beer consumption. Still, the staff there probably loved us - a morning-after post mortem examination of our wallets suggested that we'd settled the 115 peso bill with two 100 peso notes... and then presumably got up and left before getting change. The place was damn good, but a 75% tip was probably a shade over-generous.

Back in my early days in South America when I was still "living the dream" going solo, I'd been part of a motley crew in Montevideo made up of a bunch of Australians and a girl from Buenos Aires. I got in touch with the latter, Bárbara, before we got to BA and we organised meeting up and sampling La Cigale - one of the bar-restaurants around BA's commerical business district frequented by office workers looking to kick back after hours. A cool place with a bit of a French feel and live music on weekends, I had an excellent pizza that was made doubly excellent with the addition of Anna's anchovies (which, as it turns out, she really doesn't like). Few bars bother opening on weeknights like Tuesday, but Bárbara introduced us to the pedestrianised area of Avenieda Reconquista which, as she predicted, was crowded in all its bars regardless of the day of the week.

Being in Buenos Aires, it was compulsory for us to check out a Tango show; we duly obliged on Thursday night at a place on Av. de Mayo. Impressive as the dancing was - particularly the speed of their movements - I'd be lying if I said I was really a "dancing kinda guy". It was definitely worth seeing, but not something I'd prioritise going back for.

More run of the mill were the last two nights - the first of which saw me befriend the bunch of newbies previously mentioned in the "day edition" over a 14-person game of "Ring of Fire" in the hostel garden. As Ring of Fire games go, it was pretty tame - playing with newbies often is as they don't know the rules and don't like to drink. Entertainment came in the form of a gay Brazilian by the name of "Rafa" - whether related to levels of inebriation or just stupidity (or indeed a language barrier), he was unable to fathom what was going on at any stage, and thus was the target for any and all nominated punishment "fingers". It later transpired that he was a bit of a nutcase... but we weren't to know that at the time. Anyway, one drinking game invariably lead to another and in true BA style the night dragged onto the early hours. I don't really know when I went to bed, but facebook-based evidence suggests it was after 4.30am...

Then, as if to mark a grand crescendo on the week in Buenos Aires, there came last night (or, more accurately, this morning). As always, the night began in the Che Lagarto bar - some sort of party was going down and the place was filled with locals, but a crew of us backpackers (including Jamie and the newbies) managed to find ourselves a table around which many a beer was drunk - a precursor to Saturday night in BA's must do night out - Crobar. Located a taxi ride away up in the swanky Recoleta district, I'd be surprised if there's a better club in the city. We rocked up at about 2.30am - fairly fashionable by BA standards but probably still a touch on the early side - and once inside promptly had an absolute mare trying to get drinks as the idiot barman refused to accept 100 peso notes, and the idiot woman at the ticket counter refused to change them. Various attempts at borrowing money failed miserably, before someone pointed out that a different bar was accepting 100 notes without issue. A few quickfire rounds later, and I found myself wandering around the huge expanse of the club with Duncan - one of our Che Lagarto crew who incidentally had a PhD in quantum physics - and someone else, and in the process discovering another room and a whole 'nother world of music and *attactive* Argentine girls. Hours continued to pass, but at some stage we all decided to leave and - like manna from heaven - found ourselves stumble straight into a burger shack that offered a "completo" burger with fried egg and all the works for the bargain price of 7 pesos ($2). Needless to say it was destroyed.

At approximately 7.30am we got home, and at approximately 10.30am I had to get up to check out. And that, in another nutshell, was Buenos Aires.