Lovely. At the store all ready packed up by 6 p.m. or so after an enjoyable sunny and hot afternoon at a tango lesson and strolling along Avenida Corrientes, the Broadway equivalent of Buenos Aires.
Here is the scoop for my friend - lovely selection to swing ones 'booty'.
And here are the Millennium Dragon set - fire engine red, to go with the Year of the Dragon! Who would not feel like Cinderella in one of those?
Feeling a little smug walking towards the shoe shop, as I am the happy owner of the coveted boleto electronico, electronic transit pass, before the rush was on. The Government still has not let the cat out of the bag regarding fare increases for cash fares, so all of Buenos Aires is lining up to get an electronic pass, which allegedly will not be subject to fare increases.
For passes - Line up!
Near the Obelisco (mirrored in the glass) the official SUBE office is closed, instead subway riders line up around the corners for a block or so, to get their turn at the 'temporary' office under a little gazebo.
Near the Obelisco (mirrored in the glass) the official SUBE office is closed, instead subway riders line up around the corners for a block or so, to get their turn at the 'temporary' office under a little gazebo.
Almost a Canadian scene, laid back line up.....for hours, without complaint.
Until the Magic Moment arrives, and after filling in a form, showing identification, etc one walks of with the Grand Prize!!!
At Corrientes and Uruguay - a new public art piece. A stone bench with two sculptures of famous Portenos sitting at either end. The photo op for local families and tourists alike.
Those smiling grand pas at either end are artificial, tolerant creatures, allowing children to tweak their noses, pull at their neck-ties, and generally crawl all over them.
Finally - I get to the shoe store for an agreed upon pick up time for the latest little treasures. One ooh's and aahs, pays ones money, packs up and is ready to leave a short time later.
Except by that time 'el tormento' had started, one of those inimitable cataclysmic thunderstorms, which hit Buenos Aires maybe once or twice a year.
I looked out the display window, and could hardly see the other side of the street. Drainage holes looked like little fountains spouting underground water. The street slowly submerging in an ever rising lake and the heavens not holding anything back.
Although the shoe shop was closing, I sat around inside for a while, hoping for at least a lessening of the Niagara Falls outside.
Ah, I could see the other side of the street, ducked out, just to be overtaken by another burst before I even covered a block. Nothing else to do but slither, throroughly drenched, into the next 'boliche', sort of pub, restaurant, bar....whatever....with an aroma of old cooking oil and a look of decay.
But, it was dry....sort of. Ordered a small Quilmes, and got the mini size, after the mozo (waiter) mistakenly arrived with a liter bottle first.
Outside - the flood!!
Inside: the flood...it started to pour through various holes in the ceiling, some little waterfalls emerged from the light fixtures (I made sure I sat on a piece of dry ground, did not want to be electrocuted sipping a beer), the waiters shrugged their shoulders and got out a few giant squeegies to push growing water puddles towards the kitchen area....
Bit of a lost cause, as the concrete floor turned into a mirroring lake...
Another hour later, and another pause in the deluge, I skipped across water logged street into a shopping centre opposite, Abasto, which had access to the Subway.
Dry and warm (temperatures had dropped from 36 to 22 centigrade within an hour) down there. And a subway arrived within minutes to take me to the Obelisco, where one changes over to another line to continue to Plaza Italia, which is my 'home turf'.
Not a good sign, the platform of the connecting line looked like this. People sitting on the floor - waiting - people NEVER sit on floors in subway stations.
A subway employee walked through the platform with the 'welcome' news, that Subway service had stopped - too much water flooding the tunnels to make travel on electrical trains safe. Well, one escapes another potential electrocution and emerges into the grand outdoors, where it still pours. The access stairs to the Subway Stations have turned into attractive little cascades...
Of course, everyone of those hunded thousands of taxis in the city is occupied. I dogdeg around various streets and avenues, doorways, shops to try to catch one at a less popular spot than the 'Obelisco' - but...
By 10:pm I changed my taxi strategy to a bus strategy. My little Bus Guide, whose printing washes away at the first raindrop, showed that a suitable bus departed a couple of blocks away.
I did the doorway skip to the stop, where a number of people in various stages of drenchedness waited in 'close quarters' under a minimalistic bus stop cover.
Delays again, finally a bus arrives, full of course. One squeezed in (luckily my Sube pass had a couple of pesos worth left on it, and I could pay with it - I had no coins which are the only cash currency accepted...), my precious multiply wrapped shoe bags caught in the automatic door....here goes my purchase...
Surrounded by moist people, suitcases (no taxis even for tourists), guitars, whooffy damp armpits, bulging shopping bags, people texting, dripping umbrellas, and a bunch of chattering teenage girls taking up half the bus one makes one's way home.
11:15 p.m. and I arrived at Plaza Italia...one enjoys a diminished level of shower, jumps more puddles, and hogs house walls to get the benefit of overhanging balconies. Eyes open for rain sogged doggie poop, I make it into my apartment by 11:30.
Never tasted a glass of red as well as then, and all the shoes were still mysteriously dry.
It rained 50mm in 45 minutes; and between 7 p.m. and 9 p.m. - 82 mm of rainfall hit the City.
Some sidewalk cafes saw their chairs and tables floating down current, Kiosks had the 'lower levels' of display washed away, edible merchandise floated off open air foodstalls into the general soup, and garbage bags ready for pick up added a bit of seasoning to the whole soggy mess.
My little shopping pick-up, normally a 30 minute affair, took almost 6 hours - and I had left my umbrella at home for the day, which started out promising nothing but blue skies.
Indeed: Dos horas de diluvia colapsaron la Ciudad!
