Heading to EZE airport on my way out of Buenos Aires after two weeks here, thinking about all the bits I’d look back on.

Bar Notables

Bar Notables are historic cafés and bars, some over a century old, protected by the city as cultural landmarks. All ages, small plates of cubed cheese and sliced sausage. Coffees until late, drinks from early. Older men reading. Huge portions of chips, veal milanesa sandwiches and tortillas. Quilmes on tap. Bottles of Malbec shared on small tables, diluted with a sifón de soda (seltzer). Groups of friends gossiping over highball glasses of vermut con soda. The walls lined with football memorabilia—jerseys, flags, newspaper articles, trophies. Maradona everywhere, depicted as a deity, similar to Catholic icons of Jesus. Him kissing the World Cup trophy of 1986. Kissing a ball. Surprisingly, not as many of Messi—to my relief, being French. Argentina had beaten France in the World Cup final two years ago and that wound wasn’t quite healed yet.

The Superclásico

Boca Juniors vs River Plate is the most awaited game in the Argentina Primera División. The game is notoriously difficult to get tickets to, especially for tourists. We decided to wander the streets of La Boca around the stadium to get a taste of the atmosphere. Everyone in a Boca top—all types: fake, real, new, old, long sleeve, jacket, shorts, tank, cap, tattoo—all branded with the Boca Juniors logo. Fernet and cola everywhere, bought at every kiosk for a couple thousand pesos. Crowds surrounded small TV displays to catch a glimpse of the game, either propped up on a few books on the curb or in the window of the local supermarket. Barbecues were blazing at every street corner in Argentine fashion, with people lining up to grab some match day asado. Kids weaving through the crowds, families leaning out of apartment windows above, everyone connected to the same moment. The crowd went absolutely wild as the home team scored. Chants, hands flicking in the air, flags, cries. Drinks thrown. Cannons from within the stadium shot confetti so high it fell into the street, a few blocks away. Boca beat River 2-1.

Parrillas

As a veggie of five years, I had anticipated the need to eat red meat months before arriving in Buenos Aires. I ate chicken to “prepare” my stomach, thinking that it would give it a taste of what was coming. Parrillas are your typical Argentine steakhouses. They come in different shapes and sizes. Some with white tablecloths and thin wine glasses, others with bottled beers and RKT (an Argentine mix of reggaeton and cumbia). However, they all generally share bottles of Malbec and a grill full of steaks. We didn’t hold back as they felt like the only places we could get a taste of real Argentine cuisine. An ojo de bife (ribeye) and some papas to share along with a bottle of red and we were happy customers. Dinner never started before 8pm—we’d show up starving at opening and be the only ones there, waiters still setting tables. By the time we were ready to go at 10pm, the place would be packed. We tried a bunch of different cuts: entraña (skirt steak), tripa (tripe) and Argentine chorizo. But the ojo de bife was the clear winner, worth breaking five years of vegetarianism.

City Layout

We went back to Centro a bunch for the bar notables and parrillas. Tall European-like streets, quite different from the smaller buildings of Palermo, where we were staying. The streets were busy with buses and taxis, resembling a mix of New York and Paris in Latin American style. Imposing Art Nouveau buildings with ornate details that hadn’t been cleaned or repainted in decades. You could see what Buenos Aires used to be, and what it had become today. Older men dressed in full suits, pressed shirts and leather shoes. Very different to middle-class Palermo, a leafy suburb taken over by remote workers and expats—as if you were walking through Brunswick, cafés serving flat whites, microbreweries, boutique designers. We spent days walking around to get a feel for the grid-like layout of the city, constantly prompting one another—left? right? So many car workshops, ferreterías, empanada joints, coffee spots. Kiosks with freezers stacked with Quilmes and multicolor vapes on display. Fruit and veg shops with arrangements of shiny apples, peppers, oranges—seemingly polished to catch the eye of passing residents.

Rosedal

The Rosedal was definitely the highlight when it came to parks in BA. Mate drinkers with custom wooden holsters strapped across their bodies or handhelds, carrying a thermos and the mate gourd itself—handmade, but somewhat universal. Throughout the afternoon, older men topless walking around getting their steps in. Workout groups in the shaded areas under jacaranda trees taking Zumba classes. Roller skaters. A lake with pedal boats. Candy stalls.