From bust to boom, the Argentinian capital has changed beyond recognition since MICHAEL T LUONGOstarted writing about the city, after falling for its charms almost a decade ago
THE ACCORDION gate smacked shut with a loud metal clack, and I pushed the button for the 14th floor. I stared expectantly through the open ceiling of the curlicued lift as thick, dusty cables dragged me up. I was heading towards the top of Palacio Barolo, a mysterious icon on Buenos Aires' Avenida de Mayo, designed by the eccentric Dante-obsessed Italian architect Mario Palanti, who planned the building based on The Divine Comedy.
Technically, I, like the daytime workers in the tiny offices surrounding the lift shaft, was in purgatory. Palanti put heaven and salvation in the rarely used lighthouse in the building’s central tower. Still, I was heading for my own version of heaven, a 16th-floor ledge off Tango Moda, a dance shop whose owner, Jorge Arias, throws tango parties at sunset.
The elevator stammered at 14, but I could already hear the sultry, tinny, 1930s tango music above me, and I ran the final two flights up the rounded patio staircase, the music growing louder with each step. The sun would soon be reaching its golden moment, silhouetting the bronze dome of the Congreso building, three blocks away.
Dancers, the requisite pained expressions of melancholy on their faces, pressed against each other and swarmed around Jorge as he laughed with a group of partygoers. He recognised me out of the corner of his eye and came over smiling, a fluted glass in his hand. He embraced me, passing me the glass as he said, “You wrote I had champagne, so I had to go from wine to champagne. Mike, you’re killing me.”
Jorge was only playfully cross, describing a literary goof I made in my guidebook Frommer's Buenos Aireswhen I described his parties. This might be a case of me changing Buenos Aires, but the city has transformed more than enough around me on its own.
I’ve been writing about the Argentinian capital for more than nine years, and the most recent years have seen tremendous change. Even the English conversation I had with Jorge might have been impossible on my first trip here, in 2000. At the time Buenos Aires had almost no tourists, other than tango aficionados, and speaking English turned heads.
Among the few Americans I met were a Latin couple from Los Angeles, lost in the romantic crumbling neighbourhood of San Telmo. Even then our entire conversation was in Spanish. Then I toured tango halls, or milongas, such as El Niño Bien, a smoke-filled trip back to the 1930s as couples in black swirled under ceiling fans amid belle-epoque grandeur.
The 2001 peso crisis, when the Argentinian economy collapsed, changed all that. No one looking at TV images of rioters being gunned down by police on Calle Florida, the city’s main shopping street, would have ever imagined that the chaos would have fuelled a tourism boom, but that was the result.
Overnight a high-priced – at least for Latin America – destination, where the dollar and the peso were equal, became a destination with 65 per cent off. By 2003 the boom was evident, first with Argentinians holidaying at home and, later, with European, North American and Brazilian tourists arriving.
The Buenos Aires of today is more international than the one I remember first visiting. It’s apparent in the abundance of restaurants, most of them in the trendy Palermo Viejo neighbourhood, in the city’s northern sector. Once a rundown area of warehouses and ornamented but decrepit “sausage” or “chorizo” houses – they get their name from their low, one-storey height but long interiors – it became an area of experimentation for restaurateurs.
Among the best known of these chefs is Germán Martitegui, a creative force behind three restaurants. One of them is Olsen, a Scandinavian eaterie where fish, an unusual item in beefaholic Argentina, reigns supreme on the menu, and an uncountable selection of vodkas sits in glass refrigerators hovering behind diners’ heads amid the retro mid-century decor.
Another is the uberchic Casa Cruz, a glamorous dark nightclub-style restaurant with polished woods and red upholstery where the cuisine is a mix of Mediterranean influences.
Martitegui’s newest venture, Tegui, opened at the beginning of this year. Its interior is a contrast of dark and light spaces, the dining area a dimly lit narrow hall with walls painted in ebony and pearl stripes that leads to a luminescent steel and glass open kitchen.
There’s a silent, theatrical interaction here between staff and patrons, as the workers look up to see whether diners enjoyed their complex preparations and we watch in turn in anticipation for each stage of the meal.
From my table I could also peer into the restaurant’s courtyard, a tiny banana-tree-forested space for smokers, bathed in light from a full moon that night.
Seating only about 50 people, and tucked into an obscure, still gentrifying area of Palermo, the restaurant was a contrast with his other, much larger ventures. Tegui is just one option among many in Palermo.
This time in Buenos Aires is my third time living here, but it is soon ending, and I’ll be very sorry to leave. I spend time immersing myself in things eternally Buenos Aires, eternally Porteño, as locals call themselves, a reference to the city and its port.
Walks along Recoleta, where white marble fin-de-siecle buildings line the streets, contrasting with the greenery around them, take up hours of my time. These lead me to Recoleta Cemetery, the last resting place of Evita, the first lady famous to us from Broadway, film and here from her own real and mythical but too-short life. The place is touristy, to be sure, with tango singers and dancers making a living on the pathway to the entrance, but far from this it is a restful place for thought. I always pay a visit to Evita’s stark polished-granite tomb, the surface of which reflects the multitudes paying their respects.
But away from here, where few linger, I can wander among the crosses and crying angels hovering atop the tombs of the nation’s elite, whose family names echo the boulevards that cross the city. These quiet corners of the most visited place in a city of three million are my own private sanctuary, the angels looking over from their lofty positions for more than a century. Like much of the city, many are crumbling and neglected, even if admired. This is the eternal Buenos Aires I will always hold in my heart.
Where to go, where to stay and where to eat
Where to stay
Home Buenos Aires. Honduras 5860, between Carranza and Ravignani, Palermo Viejo neighbourhood, 00-54-11-47781008, homebuenosaires.com. One of the best-located boutique hotels in Palermo, it’s owned by Patricia O’Shea, an Argentinian of Irish descent, and her British husband, Tom Rixton.
The Cocker. Avenida Juan de Garay 458, between Defensa and Bolivar, San Telmo neighbourhood, 00-54-11-43628451, thecocker.com. Five uniquely decorated rooms with five-metre-high ceilings, a rooftop patio and a piano room in this art-nouveaux mansion in San Telmo are overseen by Californian Amanda Gary.
The Four Seasons. Posadas 1086/88 at Avenue 9 de Julio, Recoleta neighbourhood, 00-54-11-43211200, fourseasons.com/buenosaires. Built in two parts, there is a turn-of-the-last-century mansion, usually rented by pop stars, and a modern tower with panoramic views of Nueve de Julio and the Río de la Plata.
Where to eat
Tegui. Costa Rica 5852 at Ravignani, 00-54-11-52913333, tegui.com.ar. The latest restaurant opened by star chef Germán Martitegui, this Palermo eatery offers a sense of intimacy. The cuisine is a mix of traditional Argentine favourites with a Mediterranean touch.
Artemisia. Cabrera 3877 at Acuña de Figueroa, 00-54-11-48634242, artemisiaresto.com.ar. With its mix of antique furnishings, moody lighting and brick walls, this Palermo Viejo spot is a great place for conversation and enjoying a meal.
La Cabrera. Cabrera 5099, at Thames, Palermo Viejo neighbourhood, 00-54-11- 48317002, parrillalacabrera. com.ar. One of the city’s best parillas, or steakhouses, here you’ll find huge slabs of meat at a great price, along with a big selection of Spanish cuisine.
Where to go
Tango Moda. Avenida de Mayo 1370, 16th floor, at San José in Palacio Barolo Congreso neighbourhood, 00-54-11-43814049, tangomoda.com.ar. There is no more stunningly situated shop in all of Buenos Aires. This tango-clothing store is on the 16th floor of Palacio Barolo, one of the city’s most iconic buildings, and every so often it hosts fantastic sunset tango parties on its patio.
El Ateneo (The Grand Splendid). Avenida Santa Fe 1860 between Riobamba and Calloa, Barrio Norte neighbourhood.00-54-11- 48136052, elateneo.com. Originally a theatre, this bookstore is one of the most magnificent examples of recycling architecture in Buenos Aires. The cafe is on the stage, and balconies have become reading snugs.
Recoleta Cemetery. Calle Junín 1790, at Plaza Francesa, Recoleta neighbourhood, 00-54-11-48047040, cementeriorecoleta.com.ar. The most visited place in all of Buenos Aires, this is the final resting place of Argentina’s political elite, and the home of the tomb of Evita, the iconic first lady who symbolises the country.
Go there
British Airways (ba.com) flies to Buenos Aires from Dublin and Cork via London Heathrow. Air France (airfrance.com) flies from Dublin via Paris Charles de Gaulle. Iberia (iberia.com/ie) flies from Dublin via Madrid.