12Mar14
The sun is shining again! So we took the opportunity to get outside and get some fresh air. Not that the indoor time was bad — we got a lot of stuff done. But it was nice to feel the sun on our faces.
We found a place to stay in Buenos Aires, which was a bit of a challenge since it’s tough to find dog-friendly places that are also in our price range. One guy on Airbnb had a place that was perfect, but he’d literally just rented it out. So he sent emails to multiple people on our behalf to help us find a place — it was so kind. He travels a lot with his dog, so he knows it can be tough. It’s always uplifting to experience the kindness of strangers.
We also got our taxes done. Yay. Not really. Actually, the interesting part was that it was like going through a time capsule of our former life. We were going through online bank statements looking for our vehicle registration fee so we could write it off (oh yes, we go that deep), and it was absolutely insane to see how much money we used to spend going to bars and restaurants. I’m too embarrassed to tell you how much. Happy hour wasn’t even cheap.
But it makes sense: we were working so many hours that cooking was a chore and drinking was the unwind. We cook a lot more now and actually enjoy it.
And we treat ourselves in other ways. Our guilty pleasure throughout this trip has been bakeries. They’re beautiful, they’re inexpensive, they’re different everywhere you go.
This bakery, called La Piamontesa, is my favorite one in town. It’s right around the corner from our apartment and there’s another one on the other side of town.
There’s a lovely New York Times piece about bakeries from last year with some serious life wisdom that I still think about often. And maybe it explains my love of bakeries. I really, really encourage you to read it. Here’s an excerpt:
Peace descends the second I enter, the second I smell the intoxicating aroma of fresh bread, see apricot cookies with scalloped edges, chocolate dreams, cinnamon and raisin concoctions, flights of a baker’s imagination, and I know I am the luckiest person in the world. At that moment, in spite of statistical proof that this is not possible, I have it all.
Those pastries look so good! Would you say they are French style pastries or more of the kind of thing you would find in Mexico?
They’re good, but they’re not French-style good. – T