Ciao, Argentina

Well, Kate and I made it back to the good ol’ U.S.A. on Saturday morning with minimal fuss. After having an oversized tube of sunscreen lotion in my carry-on bag through several security checkpoints, the Department of Homeland Security finally confiscated it in Houston right before our final flight to Austin. I actually noticed I still had it in my bag when I was in Buenos Aires, but I figured I’d take my chances on getting it back home.

Despite having to be at the Buenos Aires airport four hours prior to our 9:50pm departure (not a bad idea, as the pre-board security measures there were a bit non-intuitive), we made the most of a mild Friday afternoon by languidly poking about the Palermo Viejo one last time. As I turned the key to our front door, it was a bit hard to rectify that I’d been happily immersed in a bowl of dulce de leche on a South American street corner not 24 hours earlier.

Our grand total of beef-based meals at parillas turned out to be three. How I wish we had such reasonably-priced and perfectly-juiced cuts of steak here in the States! Nevertheless, one cannot live on steak alone. The massive wave of Italian immigrants into Argentina at the turn of the 20th century means you can get some of the world’s best pizza and gelato in Buenos Aires. We wound up having an excellent Moroccan dinner on Thursday night, too.

I’m not sure when I’ll ever make it back to Argentina, but I wholeheartedly recommend B.A. as a warm, friendly alternative to the dollar-crushing Old Country. If I do make it back, I’d like to get out of the city to explore Patagonia, Izagu Falls and the wine-growing region around Mendoza.

Click here and here to read Kate's musings on B.A.