Getting back to Buenos Aires was like coming home. After an overload of nature, it was nice to get back to bright lights, big city. We had given up our rental apartment though–RIP, Cabello 3363–so what were two guys to do?
Stay at the “heterofriendly” Hotel Axel, of course.
And it was, as one might expect, fabulous. Sleek, stylish public areas; glass-walled shower in the middle of the room; rooftop, glass-bottomed pool situated above the four-story central atrium–the works. (Unfortunately, the wunderpool remained empty for re-sealing for the duration of our stay, but it was pretty cool nonetheless.)
Outside was another pool and very nice public space.
Note the shower cubes–the interior of each lit by a different color of light at night–situated around the pool. Can’t you just imagine how fabulous it would be to show off that tan and new banana hammock and take a go-go shower before the adoring eyes of all the other guests?
I can’t, but that’s only because we were there during winter and it was cold. Plus, my tan really isn’t up to snuff these days.
Perhaps the only blot on an otherwise great lodging experience were the TMI hotel elevators.
I mean, I know we’ve been living it up in the steak, wine and cheese departments for the past month, but I don’t know how I feel about an elevator using some little lights to show me how close it is to being full (“completo”) or overweight (“sobrepeso”). I shudder in my Ferragamos to think of the public humiliation that being rated “sobrepeso” at a place like the Axel would bring.
Judgmental elevators notwithstanding, we squeezed in another nice steak-and-wine dinner, explored San Telmo a bit (definitely more interesting than the land of lobbies and balconies around the apartment in Palermo) and said a slow goodbye to the city and country for which we had developed quite a fondness over the past month.
Jim left for the US, and is now playing around (and working remotely, too) in RI, while I stayed on a couple more days at the Axel–don’t know when I’ll feel so fabulous again–before heading to Chile, where I’ve discovered that, among other weighty cultural differences, los chilenos drink a hell of a lot more than los argentinos.
So, Argentina, I’m thinking this is more “hasta luego” than “ciao,” as we’ll be back again sometime. But in the meantime, as they say where I’m from: that’s a wrap!