San Telmo Buenos Aires

This morning, after buying a bag of ground coffee at a Chinese grocery store that blasts Asian rock-rap and is adorned with golden, ceramic kitties, I started thinking of San Telmo’s quirkiness.  This is not an uncommon thought; no, the realization occurs to me quite often.  Take yesterday, for instance, when I was walking home from the subway and saw a man pedaling a stationary bicycle parked on the sidewalk, quite in the middle of foot traffic.  That is not the end of it, though.  The stationary bike was powering a knife-sharpener that spun on top of the man’s handlebars.  The man was pedaling his heart out while holding a very intimidating-looking knife blade on top of the spinning sharpener.  I hustled past him as I morosely imagined him losing his grip and the knife flying through the air, perhaps soaring onto (or rather, into) an innocent bystander.  Later in the day I wondered if I had fabricated such a ludicrous memory.  But, no, as ridiculous as it is, I am certain that I did indeed walk (run) past a knife-sharpening exercise-biking man.

 

I love San Telmo.  All of its quirkiness makes it an inimitable neighborhood.  Its just-around-the-corner local from Microcentro keeps it within walking distance of all the Buenos Aires hot-spots, but its distinct barrio borders separate it from the city-center-hub. Once Calle Florida turns into Calle Peru and thus marks one’s entrance into San Telmo, you notice the architecture fade from modern to colonial, from classy stone and brick facades to muted pink and green building fronts.  The blocks have a feel of Cuba during the Godfather II era, with classic architecture painted in bright Latin flavors.  The shops are old-fashioned, with the merchants standing outside greeting potential patrons, spending hours dusting the storefront windows, meticulously keeping track of their wares.  Artisans who can not afford their own shops spread blankets out on the cobblestone of Calle Peru and sell their hand-woven pashminas, hand-sculpted bracelets, and hand-carved wooden tea cups.  On Sundays the entire avenue of Defensa is taken over by these artisans, and you can find everything from wooden desks to handy kitchen items to beautifully embroidered dresses at this San Telmo craft fair.

 

The restaurants and cafes, bars and bakeries of San Telmo significantly contribute to my desire to live in no other barrio in Buenos Aires.  Whereas in Recoletta, the best deal on pizza I could find is one mozzarella pizza and six empanadas for 29 pesos, around the corner is a hole-in-the-wall pizza/beer joint offering a liter of Quilmes and a mozzarella pizza for 17 pesos!  On the busiest streets of the business districts, coffees are sold for 7 pesos per cup, whereas the San Telmo diners serve you a glass of espresso and three media-lunas (delicious croissants) for only 4 pesos and 50 centavos.  Not to mention that the wait-staff itself in San Telmo will make you feel right at home, as they will not let you leave without telling them your reasons for being in Buenos Aires, wishing you luck during your visit here, and insisting that you come back again.  Take Gaston for example, waiter and host of Limi-T Wine Bar, which really isn’t a wine bar at all, but rather a dive café located on the corner of Venezuela and Chacabuco.  My boyfriend and I frequented Limi-T once, a dining experience where Gaston brought out 80’s and 90’s rock cd’s along with our coffee orders, asking us to please choose an album for him to play.  We chose David Bowie, and seconds later Limi-T was filled with the sound of Major Tom’s count-down, and Gaston was smiling proudly at us from the bar.  Before leaving, he gave us his business cards and kissed us both on the cheek.  Now, even though we have only eaten there once, every time we walk past the corner of Venezuela and Chacabuco, we always wave through the window, and Gaston flies out to give us a hug and check up on our stay.  He makes us feel as though this is our home, too.  And right now, San Telmo really is a wonderful home.