ROSS THORBY: SEA FEVER
Buenos Aires Initially I thought you were going to be a washout. We arrived in the early hours of dawn and then just as they cleared the ship, the skies opened and there fell a deluge that would have had Noah reaching for his tools. Even though I had plans to walk around the city, one of the ship’s travel team took pity on me and offered me a seat on a ‘City Highlights’ tour. One look at the miserable, sad looking and already wet bunch on the bus made me think otherwise. So I took my umbrella and ventured out in the rain. What a city... even in the rain it shines. Fashion, it would appear, is a high priority here. The streets were full of beautifully dressed Argentinians who, even sporting umbrellas and raincoats, managed to exude a chic and grace that would have done a Paris fashion cat-walk proud. The economy here may be suffering, but it is hard to tell from the activity on the streets. I got some great photos of the presidential palace, you could just make it out through the driving rain; the main avenue, apparently the widest boulevard in the world, now a torrent of water sweeping away everything in its path as well as most of the other ‘highlights’ the said bus tour had offered to the now sodden passengers. I kept passing the suffering Cunarders stuck in the slowly moving traffic, now appearing even more bedraggled and miserable than before as they looked pathetically out of the misted windows. I, on foot however, moved easily from one site to another, albeit through sheets of rain and along footpaths wallowing in the beginnings of another great flood.
Talk about death imitating life. The tomb next to Eva Duarte’s family tomb is currently for sale. For the mere snip of USD$350,000 you can live for eternity right next door to Evita; that is, until you decide to sell up and move to a better position. It makes me wonder what happened to the previous occupants. Where did they go? Empty and all cleaned up, there is a For Sale sign and plot number in one of the windows, all but ‘staged’ with a fake coffin placed in amongst some furniture with the obligatory generic Object d’Art and a red shag pile on the floor. Real estate agents in Auckland would be salivating at the opportunity to sell this “Doer Upper”. As I left the cemetery the sun came out and the city exploded in a profusion of traffic and workers, so I decided to walk back towards the ship through one of the city’s many fashion areas. Big mistake. I think if you hear that Argentina is now experiencing a reversal in her financial fortunes it’s all due to my now very sad and melted credit card. At least I won’t be able to complain that I haven’t a thing to wear on board. I had a pang in my heart as we departed in the early afternoon. Enviously I looked at the remaining ships in the harbour that would depart later than our own. Unfortunately one of my main aims had been to see some street tango, a wish left unfulfilled, but at least something to aim for on another visit. Don’t cry for me Argentina. When I have repaid the credit card debt you caused me... I’ll be back. (ROSS THORBY) F PN
I pushed on regardless of my wet shoes and failing wet weather protection. I hadn’t intended on visiting Ricoletta. The suburb where Eva Peron is now resting. Initially her remains had been displayed, kidnapped, hidden, stolen, forgotten, but now are finally interred here, after a turbulent afterlife fraught with as much scandal and tragedy as she had suffered in life. Set in an expensive part of town, the many acres of tombs and memorials dedicated to the city’s elite, are a sight to behold. Huge streets and boulevards containing monuments built in every conceivable style and building material, jostling for position in a manner that is reminiscent of life outside. Of course, even here, there is a fashionable part of ‘town’, some ‘city’ blocks more grand than others and some areas that you don’t go into at night. Some families apparently ‘upgrade’ and move their ancestors out of one tomb and into another as their wealth allows, and other families have even been known to sell up and move into smaller premises as their fortunes dwindle.
The World Belongs to the Dissatisfied
DEADLINE - 20TH OF THE MONTH
PONSONBY NEWS+ April 2014
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