Buenos Aires February 16, 2008
Today is my last day in Buenos Aires. Maybe.
I'm at the airport, waiting list, and 99% will not go.
From this limbo I am going to write a final report, perhaps.
Do an analysis of the Argentine months, perhaps, become a month and a few days (if not birth).
Thus an analysis based on a past and a future course maybe here, maybe there.
Sorry if inherent in these "maybe" but it is fun with the parallel lives:
Since we can not know the day of our death, we do what I do every day: an analysis on the past, without knowing how long the future.
This is probably one of my philosophies, there will be more useless, threw them to spend an hour at the airport (without even knowing whether to leave).
Me too.
How many times have they said that the best Argentine steaks in the world are those?
I'm certainly not an expert (15 years without meat), but I can guarantee that they are good.
But.
But first: the best "picada" (small pieces of grilled meat) ever eaten has been in Salvador de Bahia in 2003. Of course, we were in good company, chicks chicks right and left, but I remember it as soft as ever. Even the Brazilian cows have immense skies and immense love.
But second, that serious: the other night Manuel, Roman and I both went to a dinner and tango iperturistica we ordered the meat.
Attention.
The menu read the following sentence: Continue reading »
If you thought that Buenos Aires would stop to the barrel, you were wrong.
And 'in the field entata cocaine.
It's always some talk about that coke, right? Suddenly the trip becomes trip, cool world, real life.
Even if you do not sniff.
Chronicle.
Manuel invited me to eat with friends in Palermo (good neighborhood). Put on my slippers, jeans and white shirt the legendary Thai (Italian style) with my name written in Thai on the collar. A non plus ultra of ... ok, indefinable.
