New Year's Adventure

I had vowed I would never go to Café Tortoni.

Why?  It's the most famous café in town¹, ergo a tourist trap.  Tortoni is the type of place where they dump busloads of Americans for an expensive, mediocre lunch.  The first day I was here in Buenos Aires, I could feel the rip-off vibe as I walked by it.  Plus the people manning the front looked belligerent, as only those who deal with tourists all day do.

But I broke my vow.

On New Year's Eve, I opted to walk down to the waterfront area, mostly because I miss the ocean, and the river is the closest thing I have.  I sat on a bench and watched the young and drunk saunter by, marveling at the women in their super short skirts and four-inch heels.  On cobblestone no less—ouch. 

A little before midnight I left to walk back home—it was cold (around 75F) and the walk was long.  It struck midnight as I reached Avenida de Mayo, a main thoroughfare.

There were very few people on the street², so the two guys loitering outside the closed-for-new-years Café Tortoni stood out.  I smiled at them and wished them a feliz años.  Conversation ensued.  Then one thing led to another, and they invited me into the café to help them celebrate the new year. 

Lukas opened a bottle of Chandon, and Ricardo broke out the alfajores.  Champagne and alfajores are heaven separately, but together they transcend.  

We sat around a small table, happily sipping and nibbling.  Conversation flowed late into the night³.  If you knew how limited my Castallano is, you'd know how amazing that was. 

I couldn't have planned a better New Year.   I couldn't have asked for a better way to kick off what's going to be the best year ever.

¹ Café Tortoni first opened in 1858.  A lot of famous people have gone their over the years, including Carlos Gardel, Albert Einstein, Hillary Clinton, and me.  I bet Hillary didn't have a private New Years Eve party there in her honor though. 

If you're really interested in its history, check out Wikipedia. 

²  When I walked out of the house on New Years Eve, there was hardly anyone on the street—people or cars.  Everything was closed also, including all the cafés and restaurants.  It was the strangest thing ever.  I felt like the entire city went underground.  Or that there was a secret party but no one had bothered to invite me.

But once midnight struck, people poured into the streets, cabs and buses began running again, and general Buenos Airean insanity continued as normal.

³  Topics ranged from travel to writing to what great boyfriends Argentinos made.