Photos and Letter: Peter Wentzel
Glossy magazines, press releases and billboards aside, the best queer travel advice still comes around by word of mouth. Here's some great information ton gay-popular hotels that one of our readers, Peter Wentzel, is sharing from a recent jaunt to Buenos Aires!
"Buenos Aires welcomed two new, affordable gay-friendly boutique hotels to its ranks this past month: The Telmho Boutique Hotel in the heart of San Telmo, and the Puro Baires Boutique Hotel in trendy Palermo Soho. The Telmho, where my boyfriend and I stayed, sits right on Plaza Dorrego, which is very convenient for antiquing when the square and surrounding streets host the weekly Sunday antiques fair.
There were a few issues with air conditioning and water pressure, but we cut them some slack as a new hotel with some kinks to iron out. Breakfast was included, delicious and plentiful and the staff was generally very kind and thoughtful, and very eager to help with restaurant bookings and flight confirmations.
The Telmho is a classy and convenient option for those interested in exploring the sights of San Telmo, the Plaza de Mayo, Monserrat and Congresso.
From the Telmho, we moved on to the Puro Baires in Palermo SoHo for our last two nights. We loved this place! Very well-designed (retro-mod), with a nice outdoor patio off of the mostly-white lobby/breakfast/tea room, a small gym/sauna and a roof deck with a pool.
The hotel is “green” and eco-friendly -- hall lights only switch on when someone has entered the vestibule. The affordable rates include a continental breakfast, there are WiFi hubs set up on each floor, and the staff is fantastic -- jumping at our every request and question. The ideal Puro Baires location is on a quiet block within walking distance of lots of hip & trendy shops and restaurants. We would return in a heartbeat!"
-Peter Wentzel
BACK FROM BUENOS AIRES!
When I was a kid, I curiously enjoyed playing one of my Mom’s old 78 rpm recordings over and over again, surely endearing myself to the neighbors. The black and white Decca label identified the tango as La Compasita with music by Xavier Cugat and his orchestra. I found the music haunting; the sort that stays with you all day. Never did I think I would hear this stirring and emblematic rhythm repeatedly until our recent vacation to Buenos Aires, which first piqued our curiosity when friends described this destination as the Paris of South America.
Possibly because of our share of airline tribulations, we were somewhat wary in the beginning. There was an Alitalia debacle that is really too long to go into. To totally throw us off the track, our round trip flights proceeded without a snag. Something felt fishy. Every guide book and travel advisor warned us about safety: “Secure your wallet in your front pocket; no flashy jewelry; don’t walk down deserted streets at night.” On the contrary, we never felt at risk. We were instructed to take walking tours of neighborhoods without giving us too many specifics, leaving us concerned if there would be enough to do.
Our fears were quelled as our journey progressed; the days filled with so much pleasure. Staying in the Centro District afforded us an easy walk to any tourists’ first stop, the Casa Rosato, although a bit more salmon than rose. Unfortunately, you are not allowed inside the gates, preventing every gay man from doing what he was destined to do; sing, “Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina”, on that infamous balcony. Our first night was highlighted by our best steak of the week at a great restaurant in the Puerto Madero. Although touristy (one of the few times that we heard people speaking English), the meat was rare, the prices fair and the service at La Caballeriza was complimented by a delectable waiter.
Already we are taking turns humming La Compasita and Don’t Cry for Me Argentina. The next day begins as we amble around the lawns and lakes of Parque Tres de Febrero, known locally as Palermo Woods, 200 acres affording you the ability to walk, jog, ride a paddle boat and drink in the scenery amidst the whirring sounds of the surrounding traffic. Crossing every street feels like you’re eighty years old navigating the Grand Concourse with a walker. A stroll throughout Palermo and Palermo-Soho reminds us of the fact that we don’t like to window shop, which is disconcerting because this city is meant for serious shoppers. We explore Museo Evita, dubbed “my life, my mission, my destiny”. You can’t help but buy into her mystique because this is obviously a country that still venerates her. A later expedition to Recoleta allows us to pay homage at the cemetery where she was recently interred. It seems her body got lost on the way to the mausoleum –long story. For dinner, we ride the subway (subte) to what seems like the burbs arriving very early at 8:30 to dine at Bella Italia, our second best Italian meal.
Sunday is all about shopping. (OK, I lied about not being shoppers - it all depends on the prize.) The subte transports us to the San Telmo district to spend a day amongst the open markets, booths, kiosks, stalls and cavernous stores. We have never seen anything this big. There, I said it. It is the perfect day for buying miniature portraits and remote control boxes. We vow to come back for more. Who can have enough boxes? Our evening is highlighted by El Viego Almacen, the tango show extraordinaire, offering a performance filled with young, talented dancers. We met the first of the sight-seeing English-speaking Brazilians with the question; “Are you voting for Obama?”
The following day, we travel by cab to La Boca, surely the oldest and most colorful neighborhood. Its most famous street is called Caminito for little path; the remains of an early twentieth century Italian neighborhood, made up of immigrants attracted to the port’s opportunities. Afterwards, we team up with our friends Rich and Steve from New Jersey because who ever has time at home? They are staying at the trendy Axel, billed as Latin America’s premier gay hotel. It is definitely a wow at first sight; combining elements of glass, wood and water for a spectacular architectural effect. This is the first time I have seen a transparent pool, located on the rooftop for all to gaze from the dance floor below. Anyone know the words to Material Girl? We take a leisurely walk to a superb Italian restaurant in Puerto Madero called La Parolaccia and savor a multitude of flavors and what is certainly the best Italian food I have ever eaten (forgive me Mom). We return for our second dinner later in the week –it is that good!
On Tuesday, we begin by navigating the lines and paperwork at the ferry terminal to Uruguay. Luckily, we meet another couple from Brazil who negotiate information for a price –we must vote for Obama, of course. On the boat, a delightful young man named Lucio entertains us with his love of travel and antiques and speaks English, Spanish and Portuguese. What a catch; it’s like finding a match on man2man! Our daytrip centers around Colonia Del Sacramento named after the central church. Outside of the town’s peaceful cobbled streets, a short ride in the country is highlighted by a visit to a jam factory with a tall handsome guide cuter than the Sciacca bread man.
The subsequent day begins at a laundry on Esmeralda, a trade-off for packing light and then to the infamous Norma, a purveyor of watchbands on Libertad, the equivalent of 47th Street. Adding some additional culture to our diet, we locate the Fine Arts Museum with a pinch of Renoir, Lautrec and Monet; a sampling menu with a few extravagant specials. Braving more horrific traffic whizzing by at hair-raising speeds, Bob and I discover the finest antique store in this city of twelve million, uncovering the box of boxes! By now, we completely understand siesta time, and later attempt to find a café friends have suggested. This expedition teaches us that Parrilla means grilled, every bistro promotes grilled meats, Chile is a long street and there are countless restaurants on Chile, resulting in our only bad meal. Not giving up, we sample a gay tango hall called La Marshall, which would be a bigger hit if they lowered the lights and served more alcohol.
Thursday, we embarked on an excursion with multiple elements working for it, beginning from a real live rail station to Tigre, a river town which is the embarkation point for boats that ply the Delta de Parana. A picturesque riverboat ride leisurely makes its way through a maze of canals accessible only by boat. Bob takes a million pictures, some of which have nothing to do with cute boys and big smiles. Later, our elegant dining experience at Thymus could satisfy even a vegetarian but take note that all of our meals have one common thread – plenty of salt! We hail another cab (the subways stop running at 11:00) to Ideal, THE Tango hall, where the milongas linger to the wee hours.
Friday morning finds us at one of the best attractions on this trip! At 11:00 AM (not before); the doors open at El Zanjon de Granados, a very unusual restoration. Our charming Argentine guide explains that during an initial renovation in the 70’s, a network of tunnels was uncovered, revealing artifacts and foundations from former houses on this site dating back centuries. After years of careful excavation, this treasure became available for all to see. Back in Recoleta, we drink in the Museum of Decorative Arts, a French neoclassical mansion, as much the treat as the furnishings, porcelain and artwork. Of special interest to us are the scores of miniature portraits, a really amazing collection. With a whole day before our flight, we use the time on Saturday to take in whatever antique stores we may have missed, if that is possible. We locate our friends’ original recommendation, La Gran Parrilla del Plata, where we dine on our final steak in Argentina. We are treated to complimentary champagne to bid us farewell and then take one last stroll through the marvelously broken tiled streets crowded with portenos (locals), tourists and litter. It’s a very long walk on another sunny day and it feels great! Don’t cry for me Argentina; the truth is I never left you; all through my wild days; my mad existence; I kept my promise; don’t keep your distance!
Posted by: Bob Giangrasso | November 12, 2008 at 02:16 PM