seankesluk:

A Day at the Races

Weekends are tough in Buenos Aires - the days and the city are beautiful, but local customs makes things difficult to wake up early enough to enjoy either. With nights ending as late as 7 or 8 in the morning, it’s a shame that often so much of the day is spent sleeping. It’s not as if the Argentineans are doing anything particularly important in the late afternoon that they have to eat dinner at 11 at night or go out at 1 am, but it’s part of the culture’s charm at this point. And in fact the weather has been gorgeous, and the city full of amazing wonders, so I suppose I’ll have to find the right scheduling balance. And I think I’m on the right track.

But I digress; one Saturday afternoon a few friends and I managed to get out of bed early enough to take advantage of some local cultural offerings - today was the day of Argentina’s biggest horse race at the Buenos Aires Hippodrome in Palermo. Now I don’t know much about horses, horse racing, gambling on horse racing, or really anything in that general spectrum, but I do know a little something about enjoying some food and drink with friends, basking in some sunshine, and having a mellow afternoon. It was certainly a much-needed change of pace after a hectic couple of weeks in such a large and crazy city.

The ‘bloke’ I’m walking with up to the Hippodrome has been a good friend these past weeks - he’s an assistant head of a school and a geography teacher back in London. Most significantly he has spent the past three months backpacking alone through southern Africa, so it’s been unbelievably cool not just to hear about some of his experiences, but also to observe and appreciate the qualities one develops after that kind of journey. And he always has something interesting planned as such an experienced traveler, so I’m lucky to have ridden some of those coattails and avoided listlessness. Anyway interestingly enough we passed Buenos Aires’ only Mosque on the way to the racetrack in Alto Palermo, so take from that what you will I suppose.

Afterwards we, ‘we’ being the group of people that slowly managed to wake up and arrive at the track to join us, went down into Palermo viejo to watch the first addition of the eventual travesty that was the France v Ireland World Cup qualifier. So that was basically our day, and what a wonderful day it was.

Race Horsies!
Here’s a slideshow detailing the majesty and grandeur of these meticulously bred racing machines. Or maybe they’re just pretty ponies. And the jockeys who ride them - and are short.

Tango Show
Apparently the racetrack employs some tango dancers who perform during the breaks in the action out on the track. This was my first Argentine tango experience as a matter of fact, and although I can’t say I had intended for my first glimpse of the tango to be an afterthought at the local racetrack, it was good viewing nonetheless. Part of the experience I imagine.