After a relatively uneventful 10 ½ hour flight (during which I was asleep most of the time, including when I officially completed list item #5 – Cross the Equator), S and I landed at Ezeiza International Airport in Buenos Aires. While standing in the customs line, I thought I saw somebody I recognized. I said to S, “I think I went to high school with that guy.”

“Oh, shut up,” was her supportive reply.

“No, seriously, I think I did.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s his name? Call out his name.”

So, I called out “John. John Lofton [not his real name].” When he started to turn around, I heard S gasp so loud, I thought somebody dropped an ice cube down her shirt.

John and I weren’t exactly friends in high school, but we were friendly enough to chat at the baggage claim area. Ends up, his mother is from Argentina, and he visits several times a year. This time, he was here on business, and only staying a few days. Couldn’t even begin to calculate the odds that we were on the same flight. I suppose these things happen, though.

Before we left the airport, we made two rookie mistakes, things that we both knew we shouldn’t do. First, I changed dollars to pesos before even leaving customs, and thus got a less favorable exchange rate. Then, once we stepped outside, we verbally hired someone who approached us to take us into the city. The cab system there is a bit confusing, as there is no clear cab stand like in US airports, but it’s not that confusing. I have always seen these guys at JFK doing the same thing, and thought, “Who on earth would hire one of these guys?” Now I know the answer is confused tourists who just got off a red-eye.

The driver took us straight to our hotel, Recoleta Guest House, but we definitely got fleeced. He charged us 120 pesos, which is about 50 more than we would have paid had we done things correctly. So we lost about US$20 because we were tired and lazy, and that stuck in our craw for a couple hours.

Therefore, for those of you travelling to BA for the first time I offer two tips I didn’t follow: Change your money at the bank directly outside customs inspection, as you’ll get a better rate. And, ignore anyone offering you a ride, and hire a taxi from one of the kiosks outside the terminal at Ezeiza. The fare should be about 70 pesos.

Neither S nor I had been to Buenos Aires, and neither of us speaks spanish. Being in an unfamiliar city where you don’t speak the language can be quite unsettling. Fortunately, Bertran from the Guest House speaks english very well, and he gave us a rundown of where we should go in the neighborhood and what we should do and eat.

We walked up to a supermarket, Coto, and bought a couple of Cokes. (Both S and I have the terrible habit of Coke in the morning. It used to be coffee for me, but Coke is just so much easier.) Once we stepped outside, I realized we didn’t have an opener, so I popped the cap off by wedging it onto a piece of railing and then slamming it with my hand. Opened the bottle, and did a pretty good job of opening my hand, too. After a quick trip back into the store for some first aid, we headed off for lunch at a little pub near Recoleta Cemetery. No time or energy for the Cemetery today, so we headed back to the Guest House for a nap before dinner.

At nine pm, very early for dinner in BA, we head to a local parilla called Barbacoa to try our first Argentinian steak. Bertran had recommended this place by saying, “It’s not where tourists eat, it’s where we eat. It’s not the best, but it’s very good, and only 3 blocks away.” (Tourist is not yet a bad word in BA. Many restaurants and businesses have tourist menus and tourist specials, something which would not be particularly welcomed in New York.) After stumbling through our phrasebooks (especially helpful: Food and Drink in Argentina by Dereck Foster and Richard Tripp) we ordered half-portions of the bife de lomo and bife de chorizo, and it was the best steak I have ever eaten in my life. Impossible to explain why it was so good, as I am not that good of a writer, but can only say that it is as different from US steak as English curry houses are different from US Indian restaurants. If that’s not helpful, sorry, but it’s the best I can come up with at the moment.

We have decided that we each must eat at least one steak a day while we are here. If they are all as good as Barbacoa, we should have no problems.