Les Jardins Botanical

Les Jardins Botanical, its B.A Bitch! and a kiss.

This afternoon I decide to find some greenery to sooth my troubled soul. I visit the Jardin Botanical – its lovely, shaded and cool. I'm dying to know the names of these trees. Its so peaceful in amongst all the dirt and diesel of the city - a tranquil little oasis scented of wooded earth and deep dark green ponds with long limbed white statues. I like the statue of a girl in the middle of one such long pond. I think its because (and i'm fully aware how ridiculous this sounds...) she reminds me just a little bit of me.... 

I wander back up Jorges Luis Borges to the Plaza Seranno (or Square of ham - or Cortaza the main square of Palermo Soho) and finally find a clothes shop with some decent fashion (south america is a little behind London - actually the more i travel the more i think that London is at the forefront.) Its called B.A Bitch and I find a pair of black /jeggingy leggings ( a travel essential.) 

Somehow along the way the sticker attaches itself to my arse – I am officially the B,A bitch! 

Later Nico and I meet up with the group of British guys again and we go for steak and wine and then more wine. I find myself comparing myself to other younger women. Its sad and exhausting. Although maybe a by product of seeming to only date men under thirty! 

I shake the malaise and later when we kiss he says: Its like a multi sensory experience, when I kiss you its your scent, your perfume, the way you feel, the way you look - all of it combines to make a multi sensory experience. I suspect Argentinian men may be slightly better at the language of lurve than the Brits. From past experience I think the English equivalent of that is: You smell nice tonight love. 

At the hostel we say good night (its 4.30 in the morning) and later he reveals he waited outside for another half and hour to see if I will come out on the terrace...to wave to him. I don't have the heart to tell him that at pushing 40 I ain't no Juliet. Its verging on stalkery – like those guys that you find out have been watching you sleep all night...but hey its also kind of romantic....so I go with it. 

Another 3 hour sleep and I am woken by a 19 year old Chilean girl heffalumping around the room. What is wrong with the youth of today!? Whey don't they want to lie in. You know that saying – you never regret the sleep that you didn't get...well I bloody will! It earned me the nickname Teen Sleeper from my ex boyfriend as I need to have on average the same as an 18 year old boy – at last 10 hours a night. 

I remember that i'm supposed to be meeting up with Nico to go to the zoo today – whoops. It turns out he has waited for an hour oustide – not the most romantically smelling of places. I run to a cab and we go for salad and green tea – its the best meal i've had since I was there. 

I think being with him as reminded me of some of the principles and opinions I had when I was younger that I gradually lost sight of along the way. It feels like i'm connecting back to the adult I was becoming when I was 16. 

We go for dessert somewhere else and he orders waffles with dulce de leche, dulce de leche sauce chocolate ice cream and chocolate pieces. To say people in this town have sweet tooth would be an understatement. We go for a walk around some of the bigger parks lined by those great big dark feathery trees and rows of old fashioned street lamps. The sky is turning rose and the lake is lit up like a great milky shimmering sea , its cold that so he gives me his coat and we kiss. 

He stays with me in the hostel and the next day rolls over and says - its 1030 you need to be up in half an hour. I think of the Adele line – I want to wake up to see your face in the morning sun. He seems remarkably untroubled by seeing my face in the morning light. Oh well. I'm also reminded of the Professor Green line “ I don't like spooning unless it leads to forking.” 

He has a radio show today (he does one every sunday with his friend on current bands.) It has led to some fans setting up a facebook hate page in his name which I find amusing) so we go our separate ways and I find myself back in La Poesia drinking coffee and eating medialunas and feeling morose. 

I wonder if I have ever really been in love? I think – maybe I've only ever been in need up until now. I think about sex and think...I don't think I have ever made love to anyone in my life. A big fat tear of self pity rolls down my cheek again. This is the kind of city that could make you feel sad....etc ad infinitum.