We confidently strode up the stairs of an impressive neoclassical building, convinced that it was the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes. Passing between the massive gray Doric columns, a guard brusquely informed us that we were actually at the University's Law School. He shoved us off toward a nearby clump of dark red clay, which had been been molded into the form of a building.
I can count on exactly one finger the number of times I've stood before a flower sculpture and thought to myself, "Now that is really fucking cool".
Immediately surrounding the Recoleta Cemetery, there are any number of restaurants with conspicuous English-language signs and inflated prices.
One of Buenos Aires' most beautiful neighborhoods is also one of its most exclusive. They won't let just anyone move in, so if you're looking for a new home here, there are a couple of inflexible prerequisites: you must be rich, and you must be dead. Being famous helps.
Step into a time warp and a grab a table at El Cuartito: one of Buenos Aires' oldest and most popular pizzerias.
Argentinians are a famously literary people. In coffee shops, parks, on the bus and even while walking down city streets, their heads are often buried in a book.
