They wake at 10am and rub their beards with vanilla and coffee scented beard oil. They roll up their skinny Levi's and wear their newest old flannel shirt. They spray another coat of lime green paint on their fixie and then groom their Alaskan Klee Kai.
Following this morning ritual they appear in droves at the local cafes for brunch. They arrive on long-boards or postie bikes wearing hemp backpacks, Alaskan Klee Kais in tow. They open their Macbook Pros and stream indie pop on the free wifi. They order lattes and converse with each other about the local storefront colour schemes and the new 100% organic urban brewery that's just opened down the road.
Then their working day begins. They sip their coffees and begin typing away at their laptops. They all "work from home" - social media gurus, graphic designers, writers, artists, indie musicians each and everyone. They reply to a couple of emails - some of them even have fan mail - and then they chat amongst themselves some more and order further lattes. Ah, sweet creative middle-class bohemia!
The Buenos Aires neighbourhood of Palermo is Melbourne's Brunswick Street if it spread ten blocks wide rather than just one street. A rambling mass of cafes, bike stores and design studios.
We enjoyed the Palermo lifestyle so much we ended up booking our studio apartment for five days rather than two. We followed the bearded hipster masses to brunch. We ate immaculately poached eggs on sour dough. Every dish came with a side of rocket. The coffee was the best we had in South America. I was converted. I started walking around in a hipster daze. I contemplated buying an Alaskan Klee Kai. And a Honda CT motorbike with the obligatory milk crate on the back. I seriously contemplated giving up on the rest of my travel plans and even my life back in Australia. What if I just stayed here and did this forever?
Buenos Aires is a whole lot more than Palermo design studios and high end fashions. It’s a sprawling city of a casual 13 million. Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane on top each other and then some. A city of this size has more than one face:
The tango, the slums, the turbulent politics, the soccer fanaticism, the extravagant high-class cemetery of Recoleta, the edgy working class port of La Boca and the hectic downtown business district. The colonial buildings of downtown leave an aftertaste of Paris. The brightly coloured huts of La Boca the fervour and joyful abandon of quintessential South America.
If I did live in Palermo and owned a Klee Klai I wouldn’t walk it. In Argentina you leave that to the professionals: the dog walkers with their dog leash spider-webs. The hordes of dogs drag the walkers through inner city parks. The dogs squabble amongst themselves, tangle their leashes and tow the unfortunate walkers forever on and on.
We spent most of our time in Argentina walking through the streets amongst the dog leash professionals. After long hours of exploration we’d always end up at the same bar - Cronico - in the heart of Palermo.
At Cronico, the soccer played day in and day out and a drunk publican barked orders and changed TV channels at the bar with a forever full glass of beer on hand. It felt familiar, it felt like home, and right now as I write, in the back of my mind, I can hear Buenos Aires calling, softly now, but getting louder and louder as I type. The gentle drum of a Tango rhythm. My feet dancing on the Plaza Dorrego pavement. Tap-idy, tap. Tap-idy, tap, tap.
Following this morning ritual they appear in droves at the local cafes for brunch. They arrive on long-boards or postie bikes wearing hemp backpacks, Alaskan Klee Kais in tow. They open their Macbook Pros and stream indie pop on the free wifi. They order lattes and converse with each other about the local storefront colour schemes and the new 100% organic urban brewery that's just opened down the road.
Then their working day begins. They sip their coffees and begin typing away at their laptops. They all "work from home" - social media gurus, graphic designers, writers, artists, indie musicians each and everyone. They reply to a couple of emails - some of them even have fan mail - and then they chat amongst themselves some more and order further lattes. Ah, sweet creative middle-class bohemia!
The Buenos Aires neighbourhood of Palermo is Melbourne's Brunswick Street if it spread ten blocks wide rather than just one street. A rambling mass of cafes, bike stores and design studios.
 |
| Palermo: early morning skyline from our apartment |
We enjoyed the Palermo lifestyle so much we ended up booking our studio apartment for five days rather than two. We followed the bearded hipster masses to brunch. We ate immaculately poached eggs on sour dough. Every dish came with a side of rocket. The coffee was the best we had in South America. I was converted. I started walking around in a hipster daze. I contemplated buying an Alaskan Klee Kai. And a Honda CT motorbike with the obligatory milk crate on the back. I seriously contemplated giving up on the rest of my travel plans and even my life back in Australia. What if I just stayed here and did this forever?
 |
| The classic motorcycle of hipsters and troubadours: a Honda CT 70 |
Buenos Aires is a whole lot more than Palermo design studios and high end fashions. It’s a sprawling city of a casual 13 million. Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane on top each other and then some. A city of this size has more than one face:
 |
| The grand and slightly eerie Recoleta cemetery |
The tango, the slums, the turbulent politics, the soccer fanaticism, the extravagant high-class cemetery of Recoleta, the edgy working class port of La Boca and the hectic downtown business district. The colonial buildings of downtown leave an aftertaste of Paris. The brightly coloured huts of La Boca the fervour and joyful abandon of quintessential South America.
 |
| La Boca Juniors Stadium |
If I did live in Palermo and owned a Klee Klai I wouldn’t walk it. In Argentina you leave that to the professionals: the dog walkers with their dog leash spider-webs. The hordes of dogs drag the walkers through inner city parks. The dogs squabble amongst themselves, tangle their leashes and tow the unfortunate walkers forever on and on.
 |
| The colourful streets of La Boca |
We spent most of our time in Argentina walking through the streets amongst the dog leash professionals. After long hours of exploration we’d always end up at the same bar - Cronico - in the heart of Palermo.
 |
| Supporting Australia with several expats at Cronico Bar |
At Cronico, the soccer played day in and day out and a drunk publican barked orders and changed TV channels at the bar with a forever full glass of beer on hand. It felt familiar, it felt like home, and right now as I write, in the back of my mind, I can hear Buenos Aires calling, softly now, but getting louder and louder as I type. The gentle drum of a Tango rhythm. My feet dancing on the Plaza Dorrego pavement. Tap-idy, tap. Tap-idy, tap, tap.
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