“Don’t cry for me, Argentina” but this morning Buenos Aires wept buckets. The forecast was for an occasional shower but between waiting at the ship’s muster point and setting off on a trip which involved quite a lot of walking around BA, the heavens had opened. Where were the rain jackets, the umbrellas and wet weather gear… why, back in the cabins?!!
It became more and more farcical and laughing was all you could do. We got off the bus during a slight lull in the deluge at the cemetery to ‘visit’ Eva Peron.
However, by the time we had paid our respects, marvelled at a cemetery with nothing but extravagant mausoleums and made a dive into the shelter of the entrance, we were in the middle of a tropical storm of monumental proportions. The path became a river and steps down to the road provided a cascading waterfall. Hilarious. Outside stood a young man selling umbrellas. He named his price, I named mine. He went lower and so did I, but in the end $3 bought me some shelter and I was fractionally less of a drowned rat after the 100 yard dash to the coach.
We got off the bus again to look at the artists’ area with the brightly coloured shops and houses. I got as far as a coffee shop and enjoyed the strongest espresso coffee I have ever drunk anywhere. Hours later, I am still flying! It certainly helped with the tango.
This is such a beautiful city with fabulous buildings, monuments and parks and I would have loved to soak it up, as opposed to getting a real soaking. I did have to peer hard through the rain drenched windows to see anything.
Fortunately, I am blessed with a sense of the ridiculous and whilst being in awe of the driver as he negotiated the by now flooded avenues, I found myself laughing at the sight of a tiny rowing boat coming towards us being washed quickly from a side street. It was a young boy having fun. At about the same point, a woman had taken off her shoes, hitched up her dress and was wading thigh deep along the pavement. The water must have been over the axles of our coach but the driver kept on going and we made it to a less flooded area.
Then it was time for a few of us who had booked a tango demonstration and private lessons to get to grips (!) with our allocated partners. “The tango is very sexy… relax, give me your body and I will make it sing”. Blimey!! What fun though. I am not going to go into detail here… ask me when I am home… I am still laughing (and blushing)!!! If you have ever watched ‘Benidorm’, think about Mateo, the Spanish barman, making you wrap your leg around him as he gets up close and very personal.
And what do you think had happened by the time we left the dance floor and were just a short ride to the ship? The sun had come out and was cracking the pavements. A look to the heavens, “Thanks, Pal, you got me this time”. It was different (very), the Argentinian tango was a new experience (hmmm!) and what’s a bit of rain to a northern lass?!
One thought on “First (and last?) Tango in Buenos Aires”
Your blog is a breath of fresh air! Please give a shout when you’re headed to New York. (Not if… when…) Our little tango community will keep you on your toes!