The mere mention of Buenos Aires to many will conjure up classic images of partnership and conflict: the blue and yellow of Boca Juniors in a snarling face-off with the red and white of River Plate; locked eyes and intense footwork between two hoofers, mesmerising onlookers with a majestic tango; a collision of flavour as zesty chimichurri splashes onto a perfectly cooked cut of beef.

But the truth is that Buenos Aires is much less defined by tourist attractions than its everyday charms It is a city that, much like London, is a melting pot of culture.

A great example of this was getting my hair cut. At an Argentinian peluquería, there was a Peruvian, a Venezuelan and a Dominican working there. The Dominican lady passed her maté (a traditional South American tea-like drink) around as I waited and this created a bubble of atmosphere as I attempted to have very bad Spanglish conversation with them.

Having only visited a small number of barrios, I can’t give a personal account on all that the city has to offer. Two weeks is not nearly enough to see everything. And all that I did see cannot be fit into one blog post.

“I think we’ve walked in the wrong direction… again”

I had a personal tour guide called Nina, the Burro to my Shrek apparently, without whom I would have seen only a fraction of what I did. That said, her attempts at using Google Maps led us in the wrong direction many times and we’ve agreed that she should not quit her day-job any time soon!

Palermo, where I was based and spent most of my time, is a sought after area to live. Many of the best bars and food can be found here, but it is pricey compared to other areas of the city. As an example, the famous Don Julio steakhouse is located in the area. The finest cut of steak I have ever eaten, although I heard murmurs of better steak elsewhere in the city. An excuse to return, of course.

Excuses to return come in abundance in this city, however. Despite visiting a whole host of attractions, including MALBA, Centro Cultural Recoleta, and The Xul Solar Museum, I missed out on the Palacio Barolo, and only had a quick glimpse of Recoleta cemetery and a short walk around La Boca. BA is famous for its breweries, yet I I saw just two or three! For every point of interest I saw, I missed out on another.

MALBA and Centro Cultural Recoleta were incredible galleries. The former dedicates itself to Latin American art, with many ‘interactive’ exhibits that invite guests to beat drums or enter inside the work itself. It is a fascinating visit for anyone with any interest in the continent’s cultural history, although just as entertaining for those of us that enjoy touching everything in sight (or pretending to drown in a swimming pool).

Centro Cultural Recoleta is very different. A left-wing gallery showcasing defiance in art. Protest images adorn walls in an artistic style, but it has become a hangout for young people too. Some dance to music blaring from a speaker, while others lounge in relaxation areas. The tourists are simply an addition.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

The most striking part of the Recoleta art centre, for me, was the corridor dedicated to the women’s rights movement here in South America. The images were hard-hitting and uncompromising. The green scarf movement is unmissable and cannot be summarised in a few short sentences. It’s a movement worth looking into and deserves a blog post of its own.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

As for the Xul Solar Museum, the art was as odd as the arrival. After walking across the neighbourhood, I tried to enter, but the door was locked. I tried again and again, until eventually a woman came across from inside. She asked if I was looking to come in. I nodded politely and, still blocking the entrance, the lady asked where I had heard of the museum. I gave my response and she still looked bemused.

I did finally see the art (after having to convince the receptionist that I was not a student and should pay full price) and it was brilliant. It felt like looking inside the mind of a genius, which made it even more criminal that I was one of only three in the museum, including the security guard (clearly on a tough shift) and the receptionist (still eyeing me suspiciously as I made my way around). Amazingly, as I left, the door had to be unlocked again. A strange experience all round.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

The night is dark and full of terrors

Not all of BA was floating around art galleries. Shortly after a delicious ice-cream (seriously, find yourself a good ice cream parlour), I stepped on a bus with Nina. As it got darker outside, a group of young men jumped on the bus. Within a minute, all hell had broken loose. Phones, headphones, bags were all being snatched.

Luckily for us, we were left alone, with the most I got was an eyeballing from one.

As chaos broke off the bus into the street, people screamed and tears were shed. It was a distressing moment for everyone on the bus and it sent adrenaline surging through my body. Nina and I were both aware that it could have been us chasing these thieves on another day.

Not all nightlife is badlife

The nightlife in BA is exciting and has a great vibe. Language exchanges were exciting and a great way to meet people from all over the world.

A latino bar/club was our home on a Saturday night, with the locals inviting us to dance with them and making us feel at home, despite clearly standing out. The people, overall, were incredibly friendly and fun-loving.

As for meeting women, between a number of us from the hostel, there has been many a tale to tell. From telos (‘love hotels’ rented for a number of hours), to being date-crashed by a woman’s mother, there has been no end to the hilarity when regrouping the following day. There is a wild side to the South Americans in BA, and it is something everyone should experience at one time or another.

As a final note on the city, the Selina Palermo hostel I stayed at was fantastic. Sure, the bathroom door was broken and I got locked inside without my phone. Sure, the balcony door was broken and I got locked outside without my phone. Sure, my door key stopped working and I got locked outside without my phone. Lesson learned is to always have your phone.

But the staff were out of this world. They looked after me in brilliant ways. Introducing me to people, bringing me rehydration sachets when I was ‘muerto’ in bed, and always having time to chat. It’s rare when you promise to return to a hostel and mean it, but in this case I did.

The hostel, aside from my issues with doors, was perfectly fine too. The rooftop bar was always heaving, with the staff being the live-wires that kept the atmosphere buzzing throughout. Not a bad location to watch the sunset across the city with a cocktail in hand and a choripan being prepared on the barbecue!

A European’s city in South America

A culture of conflict and cockiness is painted of Argentina, but Buenos Aires is about as close to a European city as I have experienced in this continent. More than anything, I had an exciting fortnight in the city, even on quieter days. There is never a lack of variety on offer and it is quietly a dark horse when thinking about the best cities to live in across the world.