Don't cry for me....

Last day in Buenos Aires today. For the last 14 days we have been living the porteno life, crazy, sleepless, frenetic, glamorous, gregaious and caffeine fuelled. As much as I love this city I think if I lived here it would kill me. After 3 nights of insomnia I had to succumb to a sleeping tablet and knock myself out last night, I then slept for 11 hours. The whole place is so ovestimulating, I often felt like a little kid so overecited by their own birthday party that tears inevitably follow and ruin it all...... the locals have a word for this city induced angst and hissy fits, they call it "bronca" an Italian /Spanish word. Apparently you can have "bronca" or more dramatically, you can be filled with "bronca". I reckon that the streets are full of it, no wonder half the city are off seing their psychoanalysts as I type this.

But don't get me wrong, this is one wonderous and marvellous city. Probably one of the best I have visited in my life. From dancing empandadas, to a city park full of friendly cats, weird religious theme parks, Evitas famous pink balcony, guys walking 19 happy dogs at one time, Maradonna as god in the magazine racks, huge buildings, clever and funny political graffiti everywhere and some good friends to help us to devour the best the city has to offer is a heady combination.