24 Hours in Buenos Aires

Depending on the day, work wavers between being a complete bitch, a tolerable means to an end, or at best, an investment into what bankrolls the other aspects of your life. But occasionally it can deliver the goods. In my case, the opportunity to visit Argentina for a meeting and to spend a day and night in Buenos Aires,

What always drew me in was the crumbling fading colonial and the post-colonial nationalist grandeur and scale of the place; all beautifully weathered mansions and outrageous Soviet-style monuments. Traditions, etiquette and State co-exist with mayhem, anarchy and not a small dose of frontier wildness. And foremost among its appeals are the red meat and the wine.

I deliberately avoided seeing too much of the city, and much to my chagrin I was actually working a fair amount too, so my time was limited to the Palermo Soho area. This area was (lazily) described as a Soho of Buenos Aires, but I found it quite different. It does have many bars and restaurants, but it’s also very heavy on the high-end fashion and design retail which was fun to explore. However it didn’t have the critical mass or workaday feel that Soho’s studios, agencies and offices add to the mix, so it felt a little quiet during the day,

The retail itself was impressive; plenty of imaginatively kitted out stores which seemed to be free of the shackles of planning restrictions and plenty of outdoor dining options. And vertical gardens everywhere. There weren’t many global chains actually, which I imagine could be due to the currency and entry barriers involved (boring) – but this meant the fashion was a little bit more unique than visiting a European or US city, albeit mimicking global trends all the same. 

My epic meal was at La Cabrera, a famous asado place in the neighbourhood. It was absolutely fantastic. Bottle after bottle of red wine slushed down (big thumbs up for Argentine working lunches!) to accompany the most vast range of meat I’ve ever encountered.

The chorizo sausage was outstanding. It is different to Spanish chorizo, closer to a conventional sausage, with less piquancy. The picture is ridiculously phallic, of course. 

This was the only dish served with chimichurri which was a surprise as I thought it was a traditional accompaniment to steak primarily.

We shared it between three, as the sweetbreads, fillet and sirloin (there is another of the same size underneath) came out in a never-ending onslaught of meat. 

 

I was absolutely debilitated afterwards, but in the best possible way. They also provide countless sides of pickled vegetables, chimichurri fries, tomatoes and salad. We could only face a Chupa Chups for dessert, as we rolled out. Superb meal, and I look forward to returning to try the many other traditional and not so traditional temples to grilled meat one day.

My hotel was the Ultra Boutique Hotel. I’m often suspicious of anywhere which describes itself as a boutique hotel, as any old shithole does these days, but this was very close to the market. The room was huge, with a massive, incredibly comfortable bed and beautiful, stained parquet floors. Bathroom was a metro-tiled New York style, with house-made products. 

The communal areas served as a meeting space and bar for the local area too – although I managed to get a picture of it deserted. Breakfast was a stylish display of bell jars containing fruit, cured meats, cheeses and treats such as brownies. For less than £100 a night, this place was an absolute gem. There is a rooftop pool and courtyard bar also, but the weather wasn’t quite on my side for those.

I forced myself to have dinner although I could barely walk, even six hours later, and another (much smaller) steak at Minga did the job. Plenty more Malbec among the snogging couples (Buenos Aires’ displays of affection are not subtle) and a good steak confirmed all my preconceptions. 24 hours was enough for my tick list of steak and wine, but also to see a whole lot more. 

Design conscious retail, bold street art, independent businesses, lovely service, lush greenery, clear high skies and strange stars, Buenos Aires was a fantastic place to visit, however briefly. I can’t wait to return to explore the rest of the city outside the calm of Palermo, the wine country and the wilderness of Patagonia, itself an outpost of Monterey-style Pinot Noirs.

BA is beside the Rio de la Plata - an endless sea of sludge

Ca N'Arabi, Ibiza

Just three kilometres from Ibiza Town, and pootling through a relatively dreary suburb, you certainly might feel a little anxious or confused on the way to Ca n’Arabi. But once you leave the urbanizacion, just a few hundred metres bring a complete change in scenery. It isn’t wild by any means, but you cannot no longer hear traffic and are surrounded by vineyards and orange groves.

The country hotel, or agroturismo as they’re known in the Balearics, is an old finca which has been refurbished and landscaped to provide the best of Ibiza shabby chic. The style is different to the billowing whites of Provence and Tuscany though. Ibiza is quite far south and the next stop is Algeria. While whitewashed houses do exist in abundance, there are Moorish influences everywhere; the terrain and cuisine are mountainous and meaty rather than delicate and floral, and so fiery hues of red and orange reflect the red earth.

Rooms are equally Ibicencan rustic – bold tiles, peasant artwork and lots of that oversized, broody Spanish wooden furniture. The inside area has deep sofas for relaxing, excellent wifi throughout and a few tables for breakfast. But the real appeal here is the outdoor space.

The pool combines hut tub, splashing around room and lap pool in a singular handy layout. Loungers surround it, as well as a few day beds to escape the sun. With about twelve rooms total, your chances of nabbing the best spots are good, given that many people will visit the beach. It’s perfect for that late afternoon post-beach flop and snooze.

Gardens are beautiful too. The buildings are laden with bougainvillea as well as quaint rural artefacts, and the surrounding area features ancient, gnarled olive trees as well as citrus and pomegranates, serenely framed by vines stretching into the distance.

On to matters of grape and other refreshment, unlike many of the more upmarket agroturismos on the island, it’s a little bit more DIY here. You can order drinks from reception, but the property is so compact that it’s easier to grab them from your minibar. Prices are very affordable; €3 for a beer, €15 for a bottle of wine, so it’s a no-brainer.

Breakfast is the usual Spanish continental, with a good range of meats and cheeses. The lovely, low key staff bake cakes and other treats throughout the day which are grab, as are Nespresso coffees.

Overall Ca n’Arabi is a fantastic place to stay in Ibiza, where it can be quite hard to avoid the hordes, or at the other end of the spectrum, to avoid paying €400 a night for not very much. The location is spot on – 5 mins drive to Ibiza town and about 15 to the southern beaches and airport. 

Prices here range between €150-250 depending on the month (Ibiza is incredibly seasonal, even May and October are a steal) and offers the balance of the luxe outdoor setting but without servile fawning which doesn’t sit right in Spain anyway. Ibiza isn’t Thailand, so get up and grab your own beer! One small pointer – as it's Ibiza, some hidden speakers with some chill-out music by the pool would be a nice touch in the afternoons.

No dinner, but see here for my previous post - a guide to Ibiza eating.

Gecko Beach Club, Formentera

Gecko Beach Club is probably the best known hotel in Formentera. Perhaps Kate Moss stayed there once, that usually does it. They do have good PR, although there aren’t hundreds admittedly.

The island has always been a big of an enigma for many - (is it in the Canaries? can you even stay the night there?) - which has handily kept it relatively crowd-free for its aficionados. Only accessible via quick ferry from Ibiza, the lack of an airport has kept development low. Admittedly more is being built, but it’s all relative to what was there before (not much) and the paradisaical feel of the island endures away from the port.

The hotel at Gecko is a refurbishment of a previously unlovely hotel, and traces of the quite ugly or should I say functional, building remain. The beauty is in the public space. The restaurant and veranda look onto beautiful gardens, now replete with a pool and pool bar, and the sea is all of ten steps away. The furniture is designed for lounging, and the Ibicencan ethno-lite chill out music emanating from hidden speakers in the greenery creates a genuine calm. 

It’s completely unforced and the concept of having nothing to do except relax and live your days slowly eventually does permeate this itchy city-dweller. I usually take about four days to forget work and genuinely kick back, but at Gecko it happens within the hour.

The bar and restaurant area cater for refined tastes (the wine list is quite something) but are also completely unpretentious. On the particular day below, the chicken Caesar salad and spaghetti pomodoro were exactly what the doctor ordered, but cuisine ranges from some Med-Asian fusion (I know, but it’s actually very good) to burgers and club sandwiches. Cocktails are camp, kitsch and ridiculous, exactly what you want from a beach club.

 

Everything is engineered so that you don’t need to leave, and you really don’t except when it comes to beach time. The Migjorn Beach sweeps along Formentera’s south coast, but the particular strip by Gecko isn’t the best bit. There is a boardwalk which leads to a fantastic beer and pizza shack along the beach, but the best part is much further east, close to Flipper & Chiller – a showy beach bar.

Or even better, head to Ses Illetes at the north of the island (about a ten minute drive from Gecko) and you could be rewarded with scenes like this, with water so perfect and clear, you can hardly believe it was a two hour flight, rather than twelve.

Gecko’s rooms aren’t the most exciting, they’re functional and lacking a little in flair but with the superb lounging space and Formentera’s pine-scented landscape and coastline, it doesn’t matter one bit.