One of the THREE (3) Rail Terminals in Estacion Retiro, the window and portal not only to the rest of Argentina, but the rest of South America. There is one more of these terminals on either side of this building, dedicated to different services - commuter, long distance and another long distance.
Although Retiro neighbourhood with it's beautifully designed Plaza Libertador San Martin is supposed to be one of the ritziest areas of Buenos Aires, behind these stations built in 1915 is a huge shanty town - not recommended for wandering about.
Ticket inspector at gate. Officials seem to enjoy themselves. I even met an immigration official (woman) who kept singing at the person in front of her at the top of her voice, whilst stamping passports when I went to Uruguay a few days ago. Can one imagine that happening crossing via Home Land Security or Canadian Customs and Immigration?
Some platforms look like stage settings for Doctor Shivago, or Eiffel's famous wrought iron creations.
The Station clock is permanently stuck at a quarter to six.
Next door is Retiro Bus Terminal...400 meters long. But first one walks for another half a kilometer through passage-ways (no automatic walkways). Then, very much needed orientation signs: after all there are three stories: bottom floor has slots for 75 buses and stores luggage and ships cargo; top is for purchasing tickets from one of the hundreds of bus companies (see above photo) arranged by 'destination' to distinct areas of the concourse; middle floor is for everything else like cafes, banks, locutorios, internet, banos and information booth.
The place is crawling with people, and traffic to and fro is overwhelming. Commuter buses and taxis form an incessant stream outside the terminal, the SUBTE disgorges crowds every couple of minutes into the railway station, and gaily coloured and VERY modern buses depart to all places imaginable within minutes of each other from inside the terminal.
We know where this one travels...But whether Lima, Santiago, Bolivia, Iguazu, Mendoza, Ushuaia..
all offer frequent and affordable service. Travel is offered in different classes, plain seat to executive cama (like a first class aircraft sleeper bed).
all offer frequent and affordable service. Travel is offered in different classes, plain seat to executive cama (like a first class aircraft sleeper bed).
One can spend 22 hours in one of those going all the way across the Andes to Santiago Chile, for the lowest fare of 85 dollars Canadian.
That's about 1/10 of one of the rows of ticket counters on the third floor concourse.
One does need a map to get around...
Off to Palacio San Martin, another Versaille inspired building in the midst of urban greenery of Plaza San Martin.
In 1916 the British presented this Torre de los Ingleses, fronting the Retiro Stations, to Argentina. Post Falkland War, things are not that friendly anymore. There are hundreds of pidgeons trained to spot Anglosaxons or anyone who looks remotely like one of those enemigos.
I was promtly targeted by a generous guided missiles, and was totally covered in chalky white gloop: hair, black dress with white designs, shoes, handbag - just sprayed like a grafitti wall. An indiginous man noticed and pointed out a water fountain. I needed to wipe off the overflow. Waterfountain of course did not work. He waved me over to a stone bench, pulled his drinking water out of his bag and offered me some. Remembering warnings about pickpocketing tricks involving pouring mustard over unsuspecting tourists, I worried for half a second, then decided, that pigeons can't be THAT well trained, and threw caution to the winds. I wiped my front and handbag, he dabbed about at my back, then pronounced me passable.
Not so, once home and looking at the back of my dress, I was surprised people dared to stand next to me in the subway.
Well, with the landmines of doggy doo on the streets, and target bombing pidgeons in the sky there are a few annoyances around.
Normally one just has to avoid the constant drippings of overhead air conditioning units...
Palacio San Martin Entrance - no pidgeons.
Libertador San Martin has a giant statue (of course!) in the centre of the Park; this is one of the many battle scenes surrounding it's base.
Dogs not allowed near the hallowed grounds of the memorial, however this recently born puppy sat in his lace covered basket on one of the benches.
Passionate Buenos Aires, even the statues kiss. And - she wears high heels, have to keep up appearances here.
One of the few live statues in the park.
Reading one of the local Newspapers, Clarin...Poverty is rampant (albeit very little visible in the affluent neighbourhoods of the city), violent crime against women is common, garbage innundates the streets, inflation is high, petty crime is everywhere. (During one of the tango classes I attended two well dressed observers sat to watch, then left - with cameras and wallets taken from bags left under tables by dancers practising on the floor. Common occurence according to locals)
There is indeed a hidden shameful underbelly to this city, largely unnoticed by the average tourist or visitor.
In the meantime - citizen continues normal life...
Relax in the Park under towering Jakaranda trees still in pink bloom. Temperatures reached 33 degrees with humidity of a Turkish bath. One moves very slowly and dreams of a cold Quilmes.
