Heavenly and earthly delights BA style

I've discovered two delights of Argentina. Empanadas and dulce de leche. They are local delicacies and available at every corner store it seems. And I'm taking full advantage. The empanadas are like little calzones; pastry folded over containing different delights such as tuna, vegetables, meat, jamon y queso etc. The dulce de leche is like creme caramel and comes in helado (ice cream) and in tubs at the supermarket. M and I bought a heavy duty batch last night. It didn't last a day.

Today's adventure took us to Recoleta Cemetery; the place where the wealthy and famous of BsAs and their families are laid to rest. Our plan was to walk up to Plaza de Mayo - about five blocks - then jump on the Subte to head to Plaza Italia and walk down to Recoleta. But the Subte lines were down all day today, on strike because of negotiations between the Argentinian president and the BsAs Mayor. So we decided to walk. Armed with our trusty laminated map, a hat and comfy shoes, we headed off. Roughly a two kilometre walk, we happily wandered down side streets and stopped at shops and sat in parks, so it turned into a longer meander. We walked through the leafy streets of Recoleta and Plaza San Martin, past designer homeware stores and shiny hotels. Finding the cemetery walls finally, we wandered the perimeter searching for the entry gates. It wasn't hard to find, we followed the street stalls selling jugo de naranja and ponchos (hot dogs). The cemetery was magnificent, in a sombre sort of way. It was weird to see hundreds of tourist walking through the cement sanctums, clicking away and having photos taken in front of peoples' burials. M saw a Japanese man walking along whistling 'Don't cry for me Argentina' heading towards Evita's grave. He likened it to a little empty city, and we were walking through streets of abandoned houses, with only the ghosts of the people who used to live there present.

After the big walk, we had a need to up the blood sugar again, so munched on ponchos outside the cemetery and chatted with in Spanglish with the street seller. We then made the long trek home to San Telmo, via a shop for empanadas. I had found a yoga school and just got home from my class. Was a great class but not good doing twists with empanadas in my belly.