(cont.) Later that night, the Peruvians that I met the night before and I headed out to Club Mint to meet a few of their friends who were in town from Ecuador. Mint’s about a ten-minute taxi ride from Palermo and we arrived to an almost empty club. (Of course -- it was only 1:30 a.m.)

After about an hour, the enormous club filled up with a well-dressed, energetic crowd that danced until the early morning to a mix of house and techno. Strangely enough, there was also a Beatles cover band playing in a back room of the club for those needing a break from the pulsating dance music. Note to foreign partygoers who may be confused by the odd drink-ordering protocol here. In Buenos Aires, every time you buy a drink at the bar you must first order from one of the cashiers seated at the end of the bar, who then writes out your order on a receipt which you must then hand to the bartender (which seems overly bureaucratic, especially on those occasions when I had to complete this process even when the bartender was simply standing next to the cashier waiting for the transaction and exchange of receipts to occur).

Ask any Porteno (a Buenos Aires local) and they’ll tell you the thing to do on Sunday is to visit the San Telmo Fair. This being Buenos Aires (and Sunday), the giant street fair doesn’t really get going until mid-afternoon, which was welcome news to me given that the club didn’t empty out until well after the sun had risen. The fair is about a half-hour from Palermo, so I took the subway to Plaza de Mayo and walked a few blocks down La Defensa where, after a few minutes, I was suddenly amongst a crowd of thousands crowding the narrow streets. All along the sidewalks vendors had spread out blankets and set up shop, selling everything from homemade jewelry, clothing, knick-knacks and original artwork. As I was walking, I heard a low rumbling sound making its way down the street. I stepped onto the sidewalk to get a better view, and through the crowd I could see people dancing and marching in unison, followed behind by hundreds of drummers playing every conceivable percussion instrument. It was as if Carnival had arrived here in late November. I tried to continue on, but I kept stopping to watch the scores of street performers set up on every block or so playing everything from jazz, solo guitar, opera, Latin percussion, and traditional folk songs.

That night I met my friend Fabrila for dinner at Milion, a well-known restaurant in Recoleta (Sante Fe and Parana). We entered through a non-descript door on the street, walked up a flight of stairs, along the empty bar, and finally through a large set of French doors that opened onto a giant stone terrace that towered imposingly over a large, pebble-coated patio. We took a seat amongst the lush landscaping and towering white buildings above us, and we both ordered a local rice dish containing some of the largest crawfish I’ve ever seen (they are abundant in the nearby delta) and Argentinean wine from the Mendoza Valley. With drinks and an appetizer, the meal came to a total of only about US$40.

For my last two nights in Buenos Aires I booked a stay at Che Lulu, a small boutique hotel on Pasaje Emilio Zola in Palermo Soho, where, for US$40, I was given a small room with two single beds and a shared bathroom down the hall. I read that there are many flats you can rent for a week at a time in Palermo, but for the price of the hotels -- and their quality --it’s really unnecessary. Here, I had a helpful staff, free breakfast and internet, and, as was the case at Giramondo, it was a great place to meet other travelers.

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