Oh. My. Blog.

I have been here for only a week... and I am in love.

She is beautiful and strong and passionate,
She charms with mystery and seduction,
She moves in a way that consumes me.

I am smitten by Buenos Aires.

This city has a daily pace of Paris, a nightly energy of New York. It lacks the intimidation of Milan, but still has attitude. And though it doesn't have the zip or smarts of London, there is a consistent rhythm that is steady and rapid, but not overwhelmingly fast. The city moves effortlessly at the perfect pace.

Not unlike New York, BsAs is a walker's city. I set out in the morning with intention, but end up going with the flow and accidentally happen upon different neighborhoods and people and trains. It has a warm and fluid way of pulling you through its streets-- the way a stream pulls lost debris on course.

I enjoy the capital and absorbing its surroundings. Experiencing, wandering and having it teach me. Unlike previous places, I've always been geared towards tackling the town-- conquering it. Paris is the only other city I've let loosely control me, sway me. It inspires and leads me to an endless experience of... existing rather than doing:

To guiltlessly enjoy a cafe con leche in the middle of the day,
To watch people people-watch at the park,
To spend hours at dinner and eat great food,
To wander, to wonder.

All so simple and ordinary, yet easy to unconsciously and accidentally eliminate from every day.


This city is wise and seasoned and emanates experience. It possesses this undercurrent of passion that pulses through every sector of life.

Absolutely beautiful.
Wonderfully addictive.
Undeniably an affair.

Just please don't tell New York.