Don’t Cry for Me Argentina

We waddled off the cruise ship a week ago and have landed in Paradise, and her name is Argentina. Buenos Aires is the little Paris of South America, with gorgeous architecture, stunning tree-lined boulevards, beautiful parks and great restaurants.

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The city is a vibrant hub of activity with sidewalk cafes and colourful street art, museums and theatres. The quaint, old immigrant suburb of La Boca is a Photographers delight. We have enjoyed brilliant weather and taking advantage of it, we clocked up so many kilometres walking all over the city that my feet feel like little more than bloodied stumps on the ends of my legs.

But the thing I love best about Argentina is the food. When I was about 5 years old I declared I would be a meatarian, in response to my 7 year old sister’s intentions to be a vegetarian. Well Argentina is a Carnivore’s Paradise. Meat, meat and more meat, barbecued to perfection, and portions that would rival Fred Flintstone’s Brontosaurus ribs. And then, just when I had decided to reduce my calorie intake after having slightly over indulging on my culinary desires on the cruise, I discovered heaven on earth; Dulce de Leche. This gooey, sweet, temptation is like the desert my late mother used to prepare by boiling the bejeezus out a tin of Condensed Milk until it was pushed out as a solid mass of caramel by opening both ends of the tin. Here they have turned it into a national dish and you can get everything infused with Dulce de Leche; breakfast cereal, ice cream, danish pastries, sandwiched between two chocolate biscuits all coated in chocolate, yogurt, flavoured milk, you can even buy it in the supermarket in two litre tubs, this really is La Dulce Vita, the sweet life!

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