And on the 7th day...

6 straight days of getting up before sunrise... Day 7 = laziest morning to be recorded in the history of travels. The ladies and I took our sweet ass time getting out of the hostel by 1pm. Though we did have a productive morning--booked our last two nights at the Sheraton, reserved table seats for the premiere tango show in Buenos Aires, and ran out for facturas for breakfast.

To make up for not doing anything touristy yet, we walked 20 blocks through Palermo to Murillo St. where the Argentinian leather shops congregate. On the way, we dropped in a cafe for a late lunch. Nirali and I ordered a medium pizza and an appetizer dish of the provoleta (baked provolone over potatoes). Mackenzie ordered a "Bife Milanesa" and Melissa had the first salad of the trip (huzzah potable water). The generous portions that came out should have been a sign that we were in for some rough gastronomic times. Nirali's and my dishes could've fed a family of 4, and Mackenzie's battered beef patty was 2x as large as the bread it came on.


Thank goodness we spent the next 4 hours exploring every single leather shop on Murillo... and we weren't even hungry after that. All the other girls found good deals on stuff to bring home but I was just along for the ride--no one I know is bad ass enough to pull off leather gloves, and the boys in my life already own stylish leather wallets.

On the way back to the hostel, the streets livened up a bit, as people were getting off work. We noticed because of all the piropos (catcalls) we attracted. The best one, out of like 30, happened during a major traffic jam at an intersection where an ambulance was trying to get through. We were worried that the crazy drivers would not avoid pedestrians while maneuvering through, so we stopped at the corner to let the ambulance through. Lights and sirens wailing, the medic down to check us out as he drove past us. That, along with a catcall from a policeman from his patrol car, really made us nervous about Argentinian law enforcement.

We met up with Melissa's Seville study abroad friend, Darren from New Jersey for dinner. He chose La Cabrera, a high-end place specializing in well-plated steak. They made us wait 2 hours to be seated, and then another hour before the food came out... at MIDNIGHT. Darren's roommate, Roman, told us that Argentinian food sucked but we ignored him because he's from Paris.


Either way, Mackenzie and I shared a huge plate of steak. One piece would have been a normal portion for a non-obese American... and they gave us 4 pieces. Along with a salad and 4 more sides. I have no idea how 1. Melissa finished a dish on her own, 2. Argentines are not disgustingly obese with the portions that they eat. For all the people who make fun of American portions, they should visit any establishment in Buenos Aires.