"It opens at 8am," he says, looking at me as if I am an absolute lunatic for trying to get the tube to work at such a ridiculous hour on a Sunday morning.
Jeez. This would never happen in London. I'm so surprised they don't open the underground network until 8am but I guess the guy is right, I'm the crazy one. Nobody goes to work at 7am on a Sunday morning - just me. Everyone else in the city is busy sleeping.
I walk across the huge main road and check out the signs at the bus stop, but it's like trying to read Braille. I have no idea where all those stops are, and the map might as well be in Japanese. In any case, it doesn't look like any of the buses go from here to the Microcentro. (And who would want to go to the business centre on a Sunday morning anyway?!)
I begin to see people in matching "10k" t-shirts walking in the direction of the Bosques and I realise there's a coordinated race on this morning. Ah, that's the kind of thing I should be doing, instead of going to work!
I decide to get a taxi, and end up back on the other side of the road near the man who thinks I'm crazy. He shakes his head in bemusement at me again as I finally manage to flag down a taxi. I begrudgingly pay the 8 pounds or so it costs to get to the centre.
On arrival at work, I find the main entrance thoroughly bolted with massive chains around the handles on the big glass double doors. What the...?
I panic - was I suppose to let the security guards know I'm working today? Who do I call to let me in? I don't think I have a number...
Eventually I notice there's a buzzer with a grate to the right of the door so I buzz the reception. A very sleepy-looking security guard who I've never seen before eventually ambles slowly to the glass doors and, after a thorough questioning, he lets me in. I explain that I work upstairs and he phones up to my office security guard before giving me the all-clear. Then he bolts the chains behind me, explaining that they have to keep the building locked up on evenings and weekends because of crime in the area. Wow.
The area is, of course, completely dead on weekends, and I know I have little chance of getting lunch near the office. It's a decent day, despite being overcast, so after a few hours' work, I walk down to Puerto Madero and cross the bridge to a very touristy deli restaurant called Market Place. I had been to this restaurant when I came to Buenos Aires with my parents in 2008 and was impressed with the freshly cooked food, but this time I find it overpriced, overcrowded and badly run. It takes ages to be served, and eventually I get a very dry and disappointing salad and sit outside to people-watch and enjoy the view before heading back to the office.
 |
| Sunbathing on the roof |
Back home in the evening, I decide to venture up onto the roof of my apartment building to watch the sun go down. I have to go up a narrow staircase and open a big, hot metal door with a key. I shut the door behind me and watch the beautiful sunset. The door is constantly banging behind me in the wind.
When I descend to the second floor an hour later, I'm greeted by a rather riled-looking old lady who steps out of her apartment door to tell me off. She gives me a real talking to for allowing the door to keep banging while I was up on the roof. Apparently there's stone I was meant to put in front of the door to stop it banging, and she's really mad at me. Good way to make an impression with the new neighbours!
Back in my flat, I tuck into some of the salad and fresh quiche I bought at the organic market yesterday. Mmm, bliss. Maybe I can get used to Buenos Aires after all.
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