BUENOS AIRES, Argentina—For a city named “good air,” our nighttime approach to Jorge Newbery Airport was windy and bumpy. But my day off in Argentina’s capital turned out pleasantly.
I enjoyed a latte and breakfast sandwich at Amayte Patisserie, where I learned of this country’s “cash is king” mentality. The waiters here, and elsewhere, offered steep discounts to anyone not using a credit card. But if the nation loves cash so much, why do they hide their ATMs?
The insane exchange rate from an Argentinian Peso to a U.S. dollar did not intimidate me from paying 17,000 units of currency for my breakfast.
In the early afternoon, my comrades and I Ubered to Caminito, a colorful, touristy street near a wharf. We passed several creepy Pope Francis statues and at least one Lionel Messi interpreter as we popped in and out of shops wondering who is the Charlie-Brown-style cartoon girl seen on so many mate cups.
For lunch, we popped into a restaurant for asado and Patagonia lager. The beer tasted nothing like the warm fleeces I’m used to.
Later, I jogged through the city streets, curious about a full dinosaur skeleton in Parque Thays and considering a run up the steps of Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes (to see if any Argentinian movie themes would start playing).
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