La Vida Nocturna

To paraphrase Barney Stinson, the nightlife in Buenos Aires is legen - wait for it - dary.

I haven't taken full advantage of everything I'm about to describe, but I wanted to share with you a little of what goes on after sundown here in a city that, cliche as I know it is, doesn't sleep.

It's worth mentioning at the start that the culture here is two things that it isn't in America.  First, everything happens a bit later in the day.  And second, nothing happens too quickly.  With that said, understanding what my typical workday looks like will shed some light on what the nightlife in this city looks like.

Every working day begins between 9 and 9:30 in the morning, mostly because the public transport in this city doesn't run like clockwork.  Lunch runs about 1 to 2 or 2:30 and a coffee break near 4 for about a half hour.  People start punching the clock around 6, but my team usually stays in the office until about 8 because of the volume of work being done.

Now that sounds like a long work day, but I find it to be quite pleasant.  Because, like I said, everything happens later here.  So, its Friday after work.  You're on your way home and have plans to meet friends for dinner, drinks and dancing.  What does the rest of your night look like?  Well Americans, I can guarantee you its not for the faint of heart.

I'm usually home around 8:30 and take a quick nap until 9:30 or so.  Put myself together and get plans set by about 10 and I'm out the door.  Dinner, and not just on weekends, starts at or a little before 11 and usually runs past midnight.  As someone used to eating no later than 8pm, you will be the only people in the restaurant if you show up before 9.  Thats just how it is here.  If its a weekday, then its home after dinner, maybe a drink along the way, but definitely in bed before 1:30am.  On a weekday.  With work in the morning.  Remember, I said not for the faint of heart.

So on a weekend, dinner will usually go until at least 12:30 because the pace of everything here is so leisurely.  But no matter, things are just winding up anyway.  Drinks at a bar after dinner and until at least 3am.  At this point, youth begins to help you tremendously.  Bars start to close around 4am, but many will go much later.  Its not uncommon to be bar hopping until 4, but like I said, being younger will definitely help you to stay awake longer.

Then there are the city's notorious boliches (bo-leech-ay).  If one thing makes the reputation of this city, they are it.  Think dance club, but that's sort of putting it mildly.  Everything you'd expect in the best dance clubs around the world, Pacha has a branch here, and the added bonus of going till sunrise.  You've had dinner and drinks, and maybe a few more drinks, and now its 4am.  The faint of heart head home, and everyone else heads to a boliche.  Many of these clubs dont even open their doors until 3am.  Most will stay open till sunrise.  And to serve the hard partying crowd fueled by alcohol, energy drinks and other less savory things, there are even after hours clubs.

While I have yet to experience them, there are clubs which open in the wee hours of the morning and keep the music banging until as late as noon the following day.  Most of these partyers bail out mid-morning and grab breakfast and a coffee and crawl into bed to sleep until mid afternoon.  And then it all starts over again on Saturday.  It's all truly impressive.  Go to bed before midnight, and you only see half of the city.  Best of luck!

Ride the Bus! Ride the Bus!

I think at this point in time it’s worth mentioning how awesome the bus system in Buenos Aires, and the transcontinental bus system in Argentina, really is.  Most people in the States have a tendency to hate travel by bus.  And some of you might have a good reason, while most of you (myself included) dislike it because you’ve only heard stories of terrible trips taken.  It may be cheap; but its dirty, lengthy, noisy, unreliable and generally not a terribly pleasant experience.  While I’ve never known anyone to have a truly life-alteringly dismal experience on Greyhound or Megabus, they certainly don’t come home singing praises.

            Well, the same cannot be said for the buses of Argentina.  I won’t shut up about how awesome they are.  Seriously, you have to experience how awesome they are.  As I write this I am sitting in, if this were an airplane, a seat that resembles a business class seat.  It’s wide enough to be mistaken for your grandpa’s lazy boy and it reclines almost as far.  Which is nice, because the bus ride I’m taking at the moment (BsAs to Mendoza) is a 14-hour ride.  Thank heaven I booked into “Ejecutivo” class.

            The buses here are nothing like the motor coaches they use to shuttle senior citizens between the retirement home and the casino.  Take the seat I described above and put 35 of ‘em on the top floor of my bus.  Then below us is “Suite” class.  If my seat is business class on Delta, “Suite” is first class on Emirates.  The seats in Suite recline into a flat bed, you get your own TV and curtains, and the meal service is stepped up.  I got a free glass of wine with my dinner, but after we were done with our dinner I went downstairs to use the restroom and was offered a glass of champagne, normally reserved for “Suite”, just because I happened across the steward at the right time.  Not too shabby.  Definitely makes 14 hours go by a bit quicker.

            But while the transcontinental buses are awesome (and nowhere near as dangerous as the papers lead you to believe), I really wanted to spend some time talking about how ridiculous and fascinating the metro buses of Buenos Aires are.  Seriously, I look forward to my 45-minute bus commute each morning.  They are that entertaining.

First, a little background.  The metro buses of BsAs are operated by a myriad of companies that bid for routes annually.  So there is no uniform appearance to any of the buses.  About all they have in common is a giant number on the front, a person driving, and a slot to stick your coins in.  Apart from that, they are all totally different.  Some are super nice new Mercedes buses that look like they belong in Vegas, with different color lights everywhere on the outside and interiors bathed in blue dance club light.  You half expect them to be bumping the tunes like a party bus carrying a bunch of drunken bachelorette party girls.  Others are so dilapidated and thoroughly used up that I’m surprised they’re still on the road at all.  I mean seriously, they look like they took a trip through a car wash of sledgehammers.

So you want to ride the bus?  First, good luck finding a route map.  Seriously, I have yet to see one in paper.  Once you do (online is a good place to start), find a bus stop.  That’s the funny part.  Because the bus stops are just 10-foot high sign posts that have a route number on top of them.  There are no bus shelters or benches.  Just a pole with a number on top.  Or, just a pole.  Because a long time ago, some drunk teenager decided it would be funny to knock all the route numbers off the bus stop signs.  And if they didn’t knock the number off, another joker came along with a spray paint can and painted over the rest of em.  Your best bet?  Make sure you’re on the right street for your route, find a bunch of other people standing under or near what looks like the remnants of a bus stop pole and wait for your bus to come by.

Once you do find your stop, or what you have decided to call your stop, you’ve gotta pay attention.  Because the buses are not on a timetable.  They come whenever they can.  And its not for lack of trying, the traffic is just so terrible in BsAs that many people joke (and not without merit) that walking is faster than taking a bus.  Traffic is so bad that the bus just drives its route.  You can rely on a bus coming at least every half hour, even at night, but this varies so widely that you have to work in a big cushion whenever you’re planning to travel by bus.  Oh yeah, pay attention; sorry, I got sidetracked a bit.  Pay attention because once you spot your bus, you have to step out into the street, often into traffic, and wave your arm like a maniac until the driver sees you (and indicates he sees you by flashing his lights or turning on the blinker).  You then must sprint back to the curb to avoid getting hit by both the cabbies trolling the bus stops for fares and the bus you just waved down.

The buses here drive at a pace someone in America might describe as, manic.  If you’re lucky and there’s no gridlock on your route, you’ll be treated to some of the deftest maneuvering of a ten-ton vehicle that you have ever seen.  What I love most about this entire melee is the complete lack of a nod towards passenger health and safety.  And I’ll explain that in a minute, but the drivers have two settings.  One is accelerating as fast as the battered, lumbering beast will go.  And the other is slowing down as hard as the worn out and squealing brakes will stop the behemoth.

So once you’ve avoided getting hit by your ride, you should probably rejoin the queue of people at the bus stop.  And damn you if you don’t.  It may be a melee of traffic, but if you cut someone in line, prepare to be excoriated in español.  In fact, if you are a gentleman, you will let the lady or two behind you in line go ahead of you.  Custom is to allow all women behind you to go ahead, until you reach another male, then you jump back in line.  Just do it, don’t argue, most times you’ll get a great view as you board the bus, I promise.

The next bit of awesome happens as the last person boards the bus.  The bus driver must inquire how far each passenger will be going, because the fare is distance-based and not standardized.  Sounds a bit unusual but fair enough so far, eh?  Well as soon as the last person gets on, the driver shuts the door and takes off like a rocket into traffic again.  All while continuing to ask each passenger for their fare.  I believe I have already used the word deft to describe the work of the BsAs bus drivers, well it still applies.  It seriously impresses me.  Bus drivers in the states could learn a thing or two.

So after you tell the driver your fare, insert your change or swipe your card and grab your change and receipt. And keep moving to the back.  Always move to the back.  You’ll be lucky if you find yourself a seat and you’ll be a douchebag if you don’t give it up to the elderly, or women with babies or that pretty girl that got on in front of you (they’re all pretty).  The buses are ALWAYS packed during normal hours, usually standing room only.  But the nice part about this is that because everyone is so tightly packed together standing up, no one really worries about falling over because of the manic stop-start driving of the guy at the wheel (I imagine Schumacher retiring here as a bus driver). 

Uh-oh.  Your stop is coming up.  Well if it’s only a block away, you’ve missed it.  Getting off the bus takes prep work.  As you get within 5 blocks of your stop, start pushing and maneuvering your way through the press of people to the nearest door.  “Permiso” is Spanish for excuse me.  That’ll help a little, so use it.  But nobody really has anywhere to go, so just push.  On your way, tag the closest stop button, and the bus driver should almost immediately slam on his brakes to let you out the door.  This is the only time where grabbing a handle is advised, solely because the area around the door tends to be a bit clearer than everywhere else and you wont have anyone else to smush up against to stay upright.  If you happen to be standing near the door, its polite to be aware that the little old man getting ready to disembark probably cant reach the handle over his head and you might have to grab him up as he topples over when the driver hits the brakes.

The doors are guaranteed to swing open well before the bus has descended below 20 mph, so don’t jump out too early.  But also, don’t wait for the bus to stop, let alone pull into anything resembling a bus stop.  Because it won’t.  Not really.  It’ll more or less slow down enough to provide a safe departure into the street well away from the curb, but the only way to get out at a dead stop is to wait for traffic to jam the bus up.  Which could happen in ten feet or not at all.  Now don’t whine about it being unsafe, I just saw the 65 year old man you kept from falling over tuck and roll, you can do it too ya pansy.

If you manage to get off the bus within 2 blocks of where you need to be, then pat yourself on the back and consider it a win.  Grab a coffee and croissant on your way in to work and get ready to do it all over again tomorrow.  Its fun once you get into the rhythm of it.