We're English, this is how we do

So, off I trotted, filled with a deep sense of optimism and drive as I had imagined that on my gap yah nothing could possibly get in my way. I had been in contact with a lovely woman called Lorena who advised me to jump on the subte (tube to you and I) and meet her at Entre Rios station so that she could show me her charming home, where I would hopefully slot in perfectly and begin the stable, permanent part of my year abroad.

The Subte was quite an experience - it works exactly the same as the London tube, however the carriages are like wooden boxes that rocket along at the speed of light, the doors can be operated manually and people launch themselves onto the platform while the train is still moving. I didn't quite fancy suicide and so waited for motion to cease. All of the carriages are really odd as well, decorated with these lanterns and wooden walls - sort of how I imagine the Orient Express to be if it were a tube.

So I got off and met Lorena and she took me to the house and the first thing she mentioned was not to believe all the bad things I was going to hear about the neighbourhood and that actually it was 'muy lindo'. I have to say, I disagreed. A woman walked passed me muttering to herself wide-eyed  wearing a bin liner and that was when I knew that no matter how nice the house was, I wouldn't live there. The house incidentally, was lovely and housed a tango school as well, but there was a cat and that kinda was the last nail in the coffin. Plus, it was about 250 pesos over budget, so I just couldn't really justify it.

La Casa Rosada on the Plaza de Mayo

After the viewing, I went to the Playa de Mayo which is where the Pink House is of the president and where a lot of political demonstrations go on. Never before have I seen such political people, firing shots into the air, waving the Argentine flag and screaming over a PA system. There were people protesting about Education and the veterans of the Falklands islands war. I steered clear of those ones, being English and all - I didn't really fancy being lynched on day two.

Falklands War demonstration

But then it happened. Everyone ran. Screaming. The skies went black. And small creatures darted for their burrows as Buenos Aires got a taste of Brixton. Hannah Masters arrived. Just kidding.

Hannah and I met up for dinner in this pizzeria after we arduously searched for a shower cap for her. It seems that no pharmacy or super market in Buenos Aires sells them. The lack of shower caps I feel will make a very good article for my internship - oh the consequences of the lack of this basic necessity that one must have, wet hair everywhere in Argentina...it's pullitzer winning material, I'm sure you'll agree.

We ordered this great pizza, empanadas (kind of like a cornish pasty) and some chips but decided to cancel our order on the chips because they brang us soooo much food. All of this for under a tenner. Cheap as chips. But in the end, we didn't each chips. The waiter, told Hannah and I that we spoke good Spanish, so that was a nice confidence boost!

Recoleta Cemetery

Today, I went on a tour of Recoleta, which is one of the most affluent neighbourhoods in all of Buenos Aires. People moved there in the 1870s after a series of Yellow Fever epidemics and now it is the home to loads of embassies, chic cafes, bars and restaurants etc. We toured the cemetery, which is where Eva Peron is buried and the whole place is swarming with cats that guard the dead. The Argentine governement have let them stay as apparently the cemetery has a real rat problem. A Brazilian friend of mine proceeded to dance Michael Jackson's thriller outside the tomb of some nobles and I am sure that we are now cursed. As morbid and macabre as it sounds, the cemetery was amazing with loads of different tombs and mausoleums of different styles and designs. Pictures to follow. Yes, they take photos of graves here. Yes, it is normal. Yes, shut up. Yes, stop making me feel bad before I hit you so hard that you end up in Recoleta cemetery.

Eva Peron's Grave. The first line reads 'No me Llores...' which is apparently where 'Don't cry for me, Argentina' comes from

I've just got back to the hostel and tonight there is a party. It'll be the first alcoholic drink I've had here in Argentina. Let's hope its a good one!

Bueno, tengo que irme pero un gran besote!
Hasta prontito muchachos xxx