Tag Archives: Boedo

History cannot be erased or sold.

RIMG0001 Has Bob gone nuts? Why is he posting pictures of hypermarkets? Some who know the history may already know the answer. Stick with me and all will become clear.

The Popes favourite football team is San Lorenzo de Almagro. For some reason I have yet to figure they were not popular with the military Junta in the seventies. So they sold the land on which the club stood to Carrefour. The club had to move out to Flores far away from its home base. Now after years of wrangling Carrefour have agreed to sell the land back.

So you see, I have taken a photo of a building that has been condemned.

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There is still a club shop and Gymnasium here  though.


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Hopefully soon it will again look like this Great painting which is close by. As it says “history cannot be erased, or sold, it can be felt”

Many will know that I am not a great football fan, but something in this story has touched me. May be it has something to do with its proximity to me, maybe its sudden resurgence with the Popes blessing, or maybe it is just another injustice done by the Junta which is about to be righted.

On a side note, we saw a guy carried out of the Gym to an Ambulance, and we were only there twenty minutes. Bloody Gym is no good to anyone, I say.

On our meanderings we stopped at Boedo Y San Juan, another famous tango song. Boedo Y San Juan

There was a  beautiful bar there, obviously equipped for full tango shows in the evening. Miguel Calo was playing with the dulcet tones of Raul Beron. Raul Beron sings

We went inside and ordered coffee. Obviously they did not want us to spend too long there with just café con leche. The music changed to some modern bass singer who droned his way through old classics, making them hard to listen to and, had we the space and inclination, impossible to dance.  Shame we were enjoying the ambiance.

Still it was a good day of wanderings, we found little new, but got totally immersed in tango culture, and a sense of a traumatic history.


Filed under Argentina, Tango

Parque Centanario

I worry sometimes that people take my posts too seriously. I take a light-hearted view of all the problems that there are living in a foreign land. So far we have only asked for outside help once and then I managed to get out of trouble before that help was needed. Never the less, I do appreciate offers of help. I just choose to go my own way, as I have done all my life.
So please laugh at my problems by all means, but do not be too concerned, just enjoy the ride.
Having a leak in the bathroom was not a big deal. There is a drain for the water, but it does annoy me. Philippe told me you can get second hand tools around Parque Centenario on a Saturday, so that was todays mission.
I have subbed Viv £100 in pesos so she can have some fun there as well. (£100 will go a long way here).
It is only about ten blocks so we walk. I am still amazed that as we pass the huge building that says “Jesus es el Señor” that they need bouncers. Surly anyone with mal intent is unlikely to get passed an all powerful God, or am I just being a cynic.
We arrived at somewhere around the midpoint of the market. Not sure if it goes right around or not, we decided to head to the right.
I quickly found a wrench at $70 but it was not exactly what I wanted, so we carried on. Viv was constantly distracted by the clothing stalls, while I rummaged through every tool and bric a brac stall there was.
I found a beautiful new guitar, small frame $900. Fortunately I had not brought that much out with me, or I might have been tempted.
At last I found an adjustable spanner. A bit crude and rusty, but it would serve the purpose. “Quanto es?” I asked “dos ochenta” he said that will do me, but whet I gave him five he said “No doscientos ochenta pesos”. “Damasiado caro” I said and gave it him back.
The search continued and Viv bought a skirt and some kitchen implements. (the first potato peeler was $150 we later found one for $15. They must think we just got off the banana boat).
I found another spanner “Dos quarenta” the guy said. Fortunately this time his wife said “Darme trescientos” That one was staying as well.
I did buy a hole punch, which was not on my list along with the kitchen appliances, but you have to buy when you see here.
We reached the end of the market and backtracked. Then we set off in the other direction. I found a stall with some new and some used tools. Two adjustable’s and a pair of grips. They ran at $100 each for the ajustable’s and $80 for the grips.
It still riled me to pay £5 for something I had numerous spares at home, but I bought the new adjustable anyway.
By now we were hot and thirsty, so we set off for a drink. On the corner of Anibal Troilo are three cafes. We were stuck for choice. We sat on the street drinking jugo and fizzy water, while speculating why name such a small street after such a great man.
Most of the things I had set out to buy were still on my list. Viv’s list though was completed in Farmacity.
I wanted something to stop the desk marking the wall and was not having much luck. Then in a household shop we found some bottle stoppers. More confusion as we gathered three black ones out of the jumble, only to find that 3x$10 applied to the klipits. The tops were $10 each, so I bought two.
We popped into an almacen for some meat. Once we reached the counter we realised that we had not picked a number again. The kind lady who was next let us go.
We went to the till to pay and Viv picked up some nuts for tonight. This then meant that we could not pay, as they had to be weighed at another counter. The girl asked “De donde son?” I have no idea how she worked out we were foreigners.
On the way back we bought other provisions, something salty for Philippe, for tonight.
After some food and rest we set off for Boedo, to the house of Mariela.
We decided to walk as we had the time and it was a warm night. When we arrived, as usual, we were among the first.
Gradually more and more people arrived, but being the only native English speakers, we had a little difficulty. We were soon mixing with the French contingent. It must be something odd about Europeans that they stick together even if they do not talk the same language. Luba was there as well, she was, of course, happy to talk with us, but we could not monopolise her.
One big guy was a singer and knew some British folk songs. I think the argentines were impressed by our duet. (Knew I should have bought that guitar)
Much food and drink was consumed, and then we had a tango interlude. There was not a lot of room and mostly they were beginners, but it was very sociable, changing partners every track.
We went back to the French when the rock music came on. Then Philippe served up the ice Cream.
It was getting late (for us) so we decided to leave. As always happens, Luba said “You can’t go we have not had the cake yet” but we know this can take hours here. So we left anyway.
After a couple of blocks we managed to catch a 160 Collectivo. I was not sure where it went as we had to run to catch it and could not read the sign. “Va a Corrientes?” I asked “Si” he replied, so we jumped on.
At Plaza Almagro it turned down Sarmiento, it could join Corrientes anywhere, so we got off at the next stop. Only four blocks from home that was pretty good.
I found out afterwards that it crosses at Gascon and stops on Guardia Vieja, but by my reckoning that is five blocks, so we did well.
We took an hour to get there and only twenty minutes to get home. good ol’ collectivos, eh!

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I am not sure why, but we are required to stay in today for the census. I have seen the form and we do not get past question two, still Viv can clean the bathroom and I can catch up on my email. Hopefully they will get us done early and we can go off to play.

Two thirty and still no census, I have walked a hole in the floor practicing my milonga and Viv has run out of things to clean.  All the food we had has been eaten !!HELP!!!

Janis said she was done early, I said that I have yet to be censured, to which she replied I should be for taking advantage of a lone woman while my wife was watching (but that is a whole other story that if I get bored I may go into).

Janis turned up later and kept us entertained while we waited, then finally at half five I got a call on the intercom “Roberto es el censo” ( I wondered how they knew my name, but later found out that the Portero, Sabastian, was calling us all down) so we went downstairs (Janis and I) me to answer the questions and Janis to film me. I asked Jantango not to help me too much, I think I did pretty well, the biggest problem I had was remembering Vivs birthday. The census lady was very nice and kept it all simple for me, but she did not understand how I could live here and not be looking for work, somehow we missed question two, the one that asked if I lived here permanently. Anyway the whole thing is on film and maybe Jantango will release it some day (when I stop paying the blackmail that is).

While we waited for the eight o’clock deadline Viv rustled up some pasta and salad, and we ate the bread I had bought yesterday. We sat and talked as always and after eight I went out to seek something for afters. Non of the panaderias were open, I walked round and round and in the end had to settle for some biscuits from the chino opposite, but at least I got some coffee as well.

We left Janis at the bus stop when her bus arrived and then got on a 160 for Boedo. I don’t know why but Viv had got it into her head that we should go to Boedo Tango tonight. That is Sueno Porteno organised by Julia Pugliese. Now I do not know whether or not she is related to the great man, but there is no doubt that this barrio lays as much claim to Puglieses as Villa Crespo. On every other corner is a Rincon Pugliese or Bar Puglieses, I never realised that there were so many tango shows out this way.

When we arrived  we had the usual confusion with the entrada they asked how many I said “dos” and they said “twenty Pesos” (they spoke in english, that confused me for a start).  So I gave them twenty pesos but, of course they wanted forty.  At home if they ask “how many?” they always give the total, here they always give the price per person, it always confuses me, whether in spanish or english.

Julia escorted us to our seats and asked where we were from “Ah Wales! Reino Unido” I may come back here just because the organiser is the only person we have met who knows Wales exists. We had a ringside seat, not stuck at the back as we often are. By the time we had our beer they had a demo on of sevillano, I did not expect this in Buenos Aires.

Julia announced most of the tandas, which is a good thing for me, as I can never remember the artists names. Viv however could not pick up on the announcements and I had some Janis like fun asking her “who is this orchestra?”

As always there were some strange fashion choices, at one point Viv had said I should dance with a local, but looking around, there were few sitting, except one or two near naked very much older ladies. Now as Viv has said, I don’t mind dancing with women of any age, but I really would prefer not to get arms full of ancient flesh. Sometimes for ladies of a certain age, it really is best to cover up a little.

At just after two we had enough and headed for home. There was no sign of the bus stop on the corner of Columbres and San Juan, so I thought if we walked a little way down we could find it. After half a block  we  realised it was only thirteen blocks now to home, so knowing how few the busses are this time of night we elected to walk it. We were dressed for walking, we both had good shoes on and warm jackets, although it was still quite warm even this early in the morning. We did not see a bus stop until we were three blocks from home and no bus passed us (not a 160 anyway) untill we crossed Corrientes and by that time we were far too close anyway.


Filed under Argentina, Tango