Moving house

It's been almost a week since I last blogged and there have been all sorts of ups and downs, but mainly ups. Of course. I / eye!*

I had planned on staying in my flat in Recoleta for the duration of my visit to Buenos Aires. I liked my spacious room with its oak armchairs and marble-topped dressing table, its marble and brass en suite bathroom and green and pleasant terraza. I had always gotten on really well with the landlady. We had long conversations in Spanish and she went out of her way to make me feel at home, even offering to lend me her own frocks. The rental included cleaning services, but as far as I could make out, the room was only ever swept with a glance. Last week, I asked her for cleaning materials and was offered an antediluvian hoover, which blew out more than it sucked in, a brush, but no pan and a scrawny, bedraggled, ponytail of a mop. I said, delicately as possible, if I could be provided with the wherewithall to clean my rooms, I would be very happy to do so. Whereupon, the landlady suddenly decided she didn't like me being in all hours of the day, as if I were the 'dueña de la casa,' while she was out at work. The thing is, I could hardly help queening it. After dancing all night, I needed to sleep in. She informed me I would have to vacate the room within a few days.

After a whole day spent looking at flats to let on the internet, I went out to dinner at a restaurant in Recoleta to dine on Lomos Monstros (giant Filets Mignons) with my two lovely flatmates from Germany and then to a milonga at La Viruta. I needed cheering up. There, I met an Porteño guy, who happened to be a taxi dancer, but off duty. We danced most of the evening and when I mentioned I was looking for somewhere to live, he said not to worry, he would definitely be able to help me out. He had a friend who was an actress, who had a double room upstairs with its own bathroom. If that wasn't available, I could live at his sister's. I moved out the following day. I had a conciliatory chat with my landlady and we parted on good terms: all's well that ends well.

Ironically, my new home is in Palermo Queen's. I live with Catalina, who is an actress, and her ten year old daughter, Guadalupe (Guadi.) They are sunny and relaxed as a day on the beach. Being gregarious by nature, I couldn't have wished myself better circumstances. We speak Spanish and English on alternate days, so that we all profit from the arrangement. My accommodation is reasonable, very clean, has a well-equipped kitchen: there is even a water filter, which makes tea taste just divine, a filter coffee machine and a toaster, whereas in Recoleta, I had to pour my Columbian through a tea strainer and heat my bread on the gas stove.) It is also next to three of the best milongas in town: Canning, La Viruta and Villa Malcolm, home of Tango Cool. Catalina has bought me a brand new music system, given me a tour of the area in her car and shown me all the local amenities, including two swimming pools. I am happy.

(*Refer to Plaza Dorrego - September)