EJ's Travels

After a few restful days in Punta Arenas I set off for Buenos Aires, Argentina, the city that never sleeps. Home of the tango!

I fell in love with the city. How could I not with its strong undercurrents of Latin music and dance and… romance. I spent four days walking around and in and out of its colorful and unique neighborhoods taking in the people and the sights and sounds of this bustling city. Street fairs, parks, museums, theatres and milongas (bars where tango is performed) abound. Dinner is served late by American standards, usually 9:00pm or later, and the clubs don´t begin to fill until 1 or 2:00am, finally closing their doors after sunrise. I never did manage to experience the nightlife of Buenos Aires as such. After long days of wandering the streets I could barely stay awake long enough to catch dinner!

My last night in town I finally arranged to catch a tango show at the Museo del Tango with two others from my hostel, Barbara and Francois. Rather than visit one of the touristy and flashy milongas we opted for a more traditional experience, or so we hoped. It was certainly my most memorable evening in BA. Sure, the dancing was mesmerizing, the singing heart felt, but it was the crowd that had us nearly falling off our seats in laughter that we found most entertaining. We were easily the youngest in the audience by at least forty years. In their fanciest evening wear the crowd stared longingly at the performers while mouthing every word to each song from their seats. By the end of the two hour show a few were having difficulty staying awake. One woman sat upright, head bowed, eyes closed, only to spring to life when her dessert was placed in front of her.

Afterwards the performers and a couple dance instructors took to the crowd giving these “old timers” the opportunity to show us young ones that the art of dance is ageless. The years only added to their grace and ease with which they moved across the floor. A few of us were a little more reluctantly dragged on to the dance floor. This is how I met Jose. He was a dance instructor which was made evident in the way he led. Although I may not have looked it, I felt as though I had been dancing tango for years. And so I was convinced to spend my last morning in Buenos Aires letting Jose patiently teach me the rhythm and movement of this sultry dance. I left intoxicated, floating through the streets with a smile on my face and tango pulsating in my heart.

Tags: Travel

This entry was posted on Thursday, March 16th, 2006 at 3:49 pm and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.