A long weekend in Buenos Aires, Part 1

A new marketing slogan could read: Buenos Aires, closer than you think. To test this catchy tagline, my cousin Andy flew down for a long weekend from New York.

While the weekend was a success, two red-eye flights in a five day period does require a bit of travel stamina. Yet when Andy arrived, we did our level best to show him the fruits of Argentina's labors.

Allowing some time for a shower and nap, we explained that dinner in Buenos Aires really doesn't happen before 10pm. In fact, on a Thurs, Fri or Sat, a midnight reservation is equivalent to 7:30pm in the US.

Bring on the Speedy - Argentina's version of Red Bull. And like its Thai/Aussie competitor, Speedy gives you wings. The Argentinian beautiful set seems to down the stuff like water, providing the needed boost to dine until 2am, then head to the clubs - which don't even really open until 3am.

Even in my prime, 3am was a late night.

But with Andy in town for only a few days, we had to give it a go. Luckily, we had a local tour guide, Roberto, to show us the ropes. Roberto is a friend of our friend Henry in Seattle. Born in Argentina of European descent, he is the type of person who always has a smile and seems to know people wherever he goes. A perfect new friend and guide to have with us.

Being neophytes, we booked a relatively early 10:30pm dinner at Restaurant Azema, a lovely Asian fusion spot. Our friends Aaron and Susan were also in from Seattle and Roberto brought a date, so all told we were a lively group of seven.

When dinner finished a bit after midnight, it was still too early to head to any serious clubs. Plus Roberto explained we were really too old anyway, since most clubs target people in their teens and twenties. But the pre-party scene was going full bore, so he took us to Las Canitas, a neighborhood we hadn't seen before.

With crowds spilling onto the streets, Las Canitas is known for its bar scene. Whether Roberto knew the bouncer or not, I couldn't tell. But because of our advanced age, they offered us the VIP section. In the next moment, bottles of Chandon began arriving and we were comfortably seated on leather sofas, while on the other side of the protective railing, a throng of twenty-somethings crowded in a line up to the floor above (where smoking was allowed).

NB: Buenos Aires recently passed an indoor clean air act. Now smoking is only allowed indoors in large establishments and only in a separate section. In a city where it seems everyone smokes, this is a very welcome surprise.

By 3:30am, I was beginning to nod off. I don't think my head was bobbing, but my eyes were definitely at half mast. Enough so that Roberto took notice and began poking fun at the "old man" falling asleep.

For the record, Roberto will be celebrating his 40th birthday later this year (we hope to make the party). But his Argentinian genes are strong and his intake of Speedy vodkas prodigious. As a result, he was still wide awake, telling stories of what it takes to do business in Argentina.

By 4am we were home, calling it a night. For me, it felt like a good effort, but I was reminded of our novice status when I heard the neighbors coming home at 8am.

As has happened every weekend so far, they were singing merrily while pouring out of the cabs. Kisses all around, as another Argentinian night comes to an end and the sunny day starts to get hot.