Arriving in Buenos Aires

I left on the second leg of my grand adventure yesterday, flying out of a snow-dusted, sub-zero Toronto on a midnight flight to summer in Buenos Aires.

My new home in the north end of the sprawling city sits on the fine line between genteel decay and well-guarded opulence. I may have landed on the wrong side of the line. It's a 2nd floor apartment along the busy Avenida Cabildo in Belgrano. I've been given a dark, airless room off the kitchen - likely the 'maid's room' - with a door that opens onto a little terrace at the bottom of a 15-storey light well. Every noise from the 30 or so apartments above filters down into my room.

My "host family" is actually a single pensionner, small and wiry, with the youthful appearance of a woman used to honest physical work. Her home 'knows no hunger' she tells me, but the cold rice and tuna mash for my first meal may lead me to seek the fabled Argentinian food elsewhere.

In contrast, the leafy side streets behind our building are lined with magnificant confections; pristine Beaux Arts homes, two-stories of decorative opulence sitting shoulder-to-shoulder behind imposing gates. It feels like the mansions of New York's 5th Avenue/Central Park East on a more compact scale.

On my first morning, I bought a new cell phone from a "Claro" store, making good use of what is likely to be my favourite Spanish phrase - "despacio por favor", slower please. I think I've absorbed all of the instructions and special deals the vendor raced through, but we will see later today when the new device is charged.

It's mid summer here, and most business shuts down on Saturday afternoon. They've all gone to the country, my host tells me. So I have spent the early afternoon wandering along the broad, modern avenues and through the huge green parks of Belgrano.

This is only the first day. Let's see how it all unfolds.