first impressions

You can always tell a city's history by its pigeons: young-city pigeons get scared and fly away as soon as you walk towards them; old-city pigeons couldn't care less. As someone once said, they "insolently" continue their journey regardless of your shoe's proximity or intent. Old city pigeons have that distinctive allure of old blazé snobs who couldn't give a twat what you're doing because as far as they're concerned, who the f*** are you anyways?

Buenos Aires (Bs As) is full of old city persona, albeit being just 200 years (which for a lot of us is young). Just like its city, its birds are stubborn, sometimes ugly, but wonderfully proud and full of character. They don't do manicures, might be missing a couple feathers (and by feathers I mean pavement blocks) here and there, but they can fly beautifully.

Bs As also brilliantly passes the "sugar" test, first devised by R. Alvise Lennkh and yours truly at Gia Pronto, in 2007. What is the "sugar" test? It is the test wherein you pour sugar from a pack into your espresso and observe if the sugar immediately enters the coffee, or if it takes a little while to penetrate the foam at the top. Top espressos are so foamy (with no milk) that the sugar needs a few seconds before penetrating; Bs As is a top espresso city.

Yet, more than anything, it is in the matter of Bife de Lomo that Buenos Aires truly bluffs you. We have all at some point or another in our lives tasted a truly good steak, one that melted in your mouth and was cooked to perfection etc... But bife de lomo is not merely the highest form of that art; it's a different discipline, altogether. Please understand that when your foolish fork stabs the meat, or when your naive nostrils smell the incoming meal, you are far from suspecting what is about to happen. The Argentine bife sings an aria to your palate as if it was Maria Callas herself, resuscitated, singing at the very top of her lungs. This bife is the Brahms of food, deconstructing your instincts and emotions chew-by-chew. By the time you have finished you want to go find that poor cow and reassure it that it did not die in vain. If you so much as mix that with a drop of Malbec, then my friend believe me when I say that it's game over, ya basta!, just go home and forget about it, you've had enough for one day. It is like going to prayer and having angel Gabriel appear in front of you, patting you on the shoulder, reassuring you "Calm down my son/daughter, it will all be good in the end."

I've only been here a full day, but it firmly confirms me as an urban person, and an urban person for cities with personality. No matter how manicured it is not, I'm happy with a city that has graffities, music, colours, smells of fried and grilled foods, passion, be it for football ("soccer") clubs or the government, and general character. Some parts have Parisian, Londoner, or Spanish architecture, but it's very Porteño to the core.

Now I have to find a flat, which means my London flat-hunting skills will come in handy. Already I met one agency but they specialize in english-speaking customers, which means they may be exacting a premium for that niche positioning, and I'm looking elsewhere. I enrolled in the Universidad de Buenos Aires spanish course today in a beautiful building, and hope to meet more similarly lost euphoric souls there. Until then, hasta luego.