Still cry for her, Argentina

This cemetery in Buenos Aires' wealthy barrio of Recoleta contains mausoleums and memorials to many of Argentina's powerful and famous including ex-presidents and Eva Perón. I located hers amongst the convoluted alleyways where people still visit to lay tributes and flowers against the grill. The only time I heard a British accent in Buenos Aires was here; that of a Londoner, working as a tour guide in the cemetery. People's lives pan out in very interesting ways.

Wandering Recoleta feels like being in an upmarket area of Madrid in summer (although with fewer hills). These northern barrios of Buenos Aires tend to be richer than the southern parts which suffered more in the past with outbreaks of disease and saw more movements of people. Recoleta did feel a little too quiet and well-ordered for me and I preferred the cobbles and bustle of San Telmo.

Until this afternoon the weather had been sizzling and humid, building towards a break. Late afternoon I donned my swimmers to cool off, at the exact moment the heavens opened. The Atlantic rain was cold so I stayed submerged until it had battered my face enough. Because of its southerly latitude, the city's temperature can drop, and the rest of the day was a refreshing 15 degrees cooler than before the rain.

Until this final evening in Buenos Aires I hadn't tried parrilla, one of the local specialities. I got a restaurant recommendation and feasted. It's a platter of steak, mashed swede, rice, onion, cheese, peppers, fries and other things too copious to remember. Very Argentinian and a delicious challenge to get through.

I rode the bus back to my hotel, very much of the opinion that I could live in Buenos Aires.