Dia de mujer

You know how there is never a bus when you want one, then three arrive at once? Well it is the same here with the colectivos. I looked out from my balcony this morning and there were  three number 92’s.  Not that unusual here, but before they had cleared the next set of lights there were another two. Someone who missed that last one was going to have one hell of a wait.

As usual we took the subte down to Uraguay. They have new trains on this line, very clean and air conditioned, but designed by a moron. There are twelve seats in each carriage and no where to hang on to. Yes you can lean on the seat backs and there is a pole between the doors, but it just means everyone has to hang around the doors. Come rush hour and you just cannot get on. Like I said, designed by a moron.

Back to Nuevo Chique today and it is international women’s day. There was going to be a demo and live music and Vivi La Falce was doing the music. Too much messing about for me, but no doubt, we would be gone before it all kicks off. Nice change to have Vivi doing the music though.

Met another of my followers here. It is always nice to meet people who read my stuff although mostly my advice will suit someone a bit older, I help where I can. Had some interesting dances today. I gave Margarita the secret of youth (not for publishing) and got introduced to one of the taxi dancers who regularly attends. Juancarlos was his name, I called him Rey de España. Another lady asked about my recent gardening, wanted to know if I was growing potatoes, on a balcony? I ask you.

As I said we left before all the demos and went for a coffee at Congresso. We came out and saw someone with his hand out at our bus stop.  Good timing there we jumped straight on. it was just as well we did not miss it, we came up Rivadavia in formation with three other 151 colectivos.

We stopped off for some bread at the chino and I could not resist a bottle of San Telmo Malbec. Bread and wine, was something religious going on here?

As it was day of the woman Viv wanted treating as well so I went for some Ice cream. There was a policeman in there having a drink of water. Ken and the policeman were talking way too fast for me, but when I asked them to slow down he asked what part of Brazil I was from. “Not Brazil? what part of Portugal then?” My castillano must be better than I thought, he was quite shocked when I told him I was from Wales.

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