buenos aires

It was an ordinary five hour coach ride up the coast to Buenos Aires. The only thing that began to get on my nerves was that it didn´t stop at all on the journey. What about me! What about a smoke! The coaches in Argentina are excellent. They have no need to stop. They have TV´s, tiolets, coffee machines and very comfortable seating. But I WANT a smoke!!

So when we arrived at the main bus station Retiro I was happy to be again free to destroy my lungs. It is a gigantic place. Over 100 platforms. It is a feat of logistic excellence that it functions so well. Its size can mainly be explained as there is no rail system to speak of anymore in Argentina so the coach is king. Soon we were in a taxi with some greaseball who did a good job of explaining some utter nonsense about the way the meters work in Buenos Aires. It shut us up but we have never been to the city before so what do you do. The upshot was a fare about twice what should have been charged. Wank*r!

The hotel was central but disappointing really when one considers the cost.I have always wanted to go to Buenos Aires (Fair winds) and I wasn´t sure why. Maybe it was simply the sound of the name. Or it was probably in some way to do with my youthful adoration of Diego Maradonna. The best footballer of all time,. I would say. Whatever the reason my first impressions were positive about this city fo 12 million. I found it to be clean, organised and very European in temperament and feel.

This would be the first of a few stops I would make in Buenos Aires. This stop was primarily intended to allow me to make an application for a new passport (my current one was running out of visa pages). The Irish Embassy would need a month to deliver a new one to me but at least I would be allowed to retain my present passport in the meantime. The application would have to be processed in Dublin. Fair enough. The trouble for me was getting out of bed in time to get to find the embassy and sort out the papers. After a failed attempt to find it and then to be parried next day by some utter lazy b*tch who simply didn't want to accept the application because 'It's not my job!', I finally made the application and was free to proceed to the next destination; Uruguay.

One thing that struck me as I made my daily pilgrimage to the Embassy was the private worksforce that supports the local uber-rich Portenos of the area of Recoleta. Dog walkers who walk up to a dozen dogs at a time! Maids out with the masters kids! Cooks running to and fro collecting groceries for the day. Chaffeurs polishing top of the line Mercedes! Security personnel covering the heavily fortified apartment blocks! A whole industry.

Argentina was pretty much an exception as a destination for Irish immigration in that it is a non-English speaking country. Most of the immigrants arrived during the famine. Apart from the numerous Irish pubs there is little sign of an Irish community. But just like Dublin, a week before I arrived in Buenos Aires, they had intoduced a smoking ban in public places. Needless to say my pub drinking was curtailed.