The weather has turned again, it is bright but cold and windy. The climate is behaving more like autumn than spring, and we never know quite what to wear to go out.
We are off on our last shoe shopping trip, this time to Comme il Faut. There are a couple of ladies who insist only on these so we are off into town again on the subte.
As we walk across town almost every shop is closed, they have declared three days of mourning for Nestor, and, call me cynical but the workers do not miss the opportunity to have a day off here, as they would, I suppose, anywhere.
I have written often enough about Comme il Faut so further comment is superfluous, still Viv is like a pig in muck surrounded by all these shoes, even though none are for her. The place is filled with women buying shoes by the dozen, I would not mind, one little bit, a stake in this place, it is a gold mine. We take a lot less time than the other women who are here as Vivs choices are quite specific. So soon we are paid up and out again into the street. There wasa french couple in here and while she tries the shoes, he got out his video camera, instantly he is pounced on “no photos”. He folded up his camera, but did not put it away. Minutes later it was out again and he is told in no uncertain terms that he must put it away or leave. From then on someone was watching him all the time, this is not the first time I have seen this here, all the designs are exclusive and they want no one copying them. There is a big sign on the door “Se Ruega no toma photos” If you do not speak the language it is still quite clear.
On the way back we again seek out Tekla Bar, which I wrote about here Shuesday
it is just too zany and I love the place, we were by now hungry so we had some empanadas and fries, which I ate leaning on an Underwood typewriter. The guy said we could have home-made fries or from a bag, I got the idea of what he was saying, so we had the home-made. (fries from a bag would have been crisps). We had excellent empanadas and our man was not fazed by us wanting the coffee first, although he did pull a face.
When we had travelled down, the subte was just like a normal day, regular trains and crowds of people. Now though it was as if suddenly it was a Sunday night, twenty minutes or more between trains and hardly any people, we managed to sit for the whole return journey. Viv still cradled the shoes as though they were her babies though.
Philippe was coming to eat with us tonight, and we thought it would be good to go out together for a meal. We walked down to the peruvian restaurant that we had all seen previously. When we got there we could now see it with the shutters up; a take out joint with two tiny tables on which you could eat off polystyrene trays. Oh well on with the search.
I expected Philippe to come up with something that was a fusion of his french history and his argentine citizenship. What he came up with was a vegetarian tenador libre or a posh pizza parlour. Like a fool, I gave Viv the choice, she chose the vegetarian eat all you want. Eat all you want sounded good to me (fool).
Nothing had any taste, and was stone cold,even the beer was healthy (sin alcohol). Admittedly the beer tasted alright, but the food needed a level of inebriation, before one could appreciate its finer points (what finer points?) We should have saved more room for desert, not the best in the world but at least it tasted of something. I have heard many complaints from expats about food here having no flavour, up until now I have never come across it, I hope this is not the first of many.At least now we know a place to avoid.
Still we have yet more experience and Philippe did restock our fridge with beer. Next time though, Viv does not get the choice.
We were expecting to head out to a milonga later, but as Phillipe had arrived early we were not dressed for a milonga, and as always we tarried long after we had finished the food. Viv said “the night is still young, unfortunately we are not”. The subtes are closed and just maybe we can be up early tomorrow for a change.