Buenos Buenos

El Ateneo Bookstore

Q: Which South American country is a pirate's favorite place to make port?

A: Arrrrrrgentina.

Ohhhhhmahgah, I'm so funny.

But seriously. So we went to Buenos Aires this weekend and it was definitely the most fun thing that we've done since coming down here. In part because getting to Buenos Aires means taking a ferry boat called a Buque Bus which is both like and unlike every form of transportation I've ever taken before.

The ferries I've taken in the states (between Anacortes and the San Juan islands in Washington state, for instance) are always a little gusty and fairly soggy. The Buque bus is a legit way to travel... not just to get somewhere, but to travel. It's a three hour trip (a three hour tour?) and it goes between two countries, so you pass through customs on your way in and the boarding areas have duty-free shops and plush leather couches. The boat itself is divided into tourist class and first class, and really only differ a little. Both have large cushy seats, a full cafe, big windows overlooking the ocean, TVs that play a combination of American TV and ads for Argentinian fashion shows, and one or two noisy children. Neither has assigned seating so it's first come first served. First class has hostesses (Waitresses? Stewardesses?) in first class will bring you you order and pick up your tray, and there are slightly larger, but slightly less comfortable seats.

I've basically decided that I want to travel everywhere by boat from now on. It's way more laid back an comfortable than air travel and you never have to turn your iPod off or remove your shoes involuntarily.

The stage of El Ateneo Bookstore.

Now, frankly, we had no idea what we were going to do in Argentina until we got there. When we finally arrived, lightening struck my brain, as Smee says, and I remembered that one of the coolest bookstores in the world is located in Buenos Aires. This is why is pays to troll around on a lot of nerdy blogs.  A quick google search revealed that said bookstore was not only, yes, in BA, but also a mere four blocks away from our hotel. (By the way, if you're ever going to Argentina, this hotel was great--amazing location, good free breakfast and a canopy bed!)

I have three favorite bookstores: The Boulder Bookstore, which I love fiercely and maniacally and literally spend hours in--like a crazy hobo--every time I go home; Books Plus, inside The MLK Memorial Library in DC, where everything is $1-$2; and Capitol Hill Books, which is like a hobbit hole full of books and the owner, a former Naval Officer, puts ironic signs on the books and will yell at you if you say something stupid.

Now... El Ateneo, which occupies a former theater, could easily be added to this list... IF... oh if, I spoke Spanish.

Still and all, as you can see from these pictures, it's basically one of the most amazing places you could possibly put a bookstore. We went back three times. And we ate lunch at the café on the stage. Their selection of English books is sad, sad, sad (J.D. Robb much?). But I bought copies of The Hotel New Hampshire by John Irving and The Periodic Table by Primo Levi. (NB, I'm not saying that foreign bookstores should be required to carry English-language books, only that, if they choose to do so, they should pick a few books that don't have the author's name in raised neon letters on the cover.)

Recoleta Cemetery.

Our hotel and El Ateneo are in a neighborhood called Recoleta, an area that's somewhat similar to St. Germain in Paris, only with aristocrats and artists rather than students and artists. The area is a hotbed of museums, cafes and street fairs, with a huge, incredible cemetery at its heart.

Recoleta cemetery is like the cemeteries of New Orleans turned up to 11. In addition to the above-ground crypts, it's not unusual to peek through the glass door of the huge tombs and see underground vaults with old wooden coffins stacked up on shelves beneath the floor.

Yes, that's a child-size coffin.

Some of the tombs are perfectly maintained, full of flowers and potted plants, free of dust; their coffins are covered with clean lace cloths and the glass doors are locked with heavy padlocks. But others are disheveled; the coffins are stacked and broken, everything is covered with cobwebs, the glass and the stones are broken. It just serves to reinforce what an odd species we are. How we care about bones, which, really are just bones, enough to build these elaborate houses for them... but we also don't care that much.

This is the cemetery where Evita Peron is buried, by the way. Just another box of famous bones.