I can live in Montevideo, but I want to live in Buenos Aires.
The ferry from Colonia docked in Microcentro, a district of skyscrapers and busy streets that reminded me of Canary Wharf. Both ways, the ferry was packed with dozens of cars and hundreds of people–so packed that I never got a window seat. The terminal and immediate urban landscape made up for it. I fell in love with the city immediately and dozens of times each day with parks, architecture, food, transit, and men. Of course, the men. Two days barely scratched the surface, and more happened in those two days than ten in Montevideo.
Let me be realistic and put aside my instant infatuation with Buenos Aires for a moment. Argentina has been a mess for a long time; it’s better now, but one bad election can change that. Their government flubbed the recovery after the 2008 crash and has only recently gotten their economy back under control. For example, tariffs meant to create a local tech industry instead forced Argentinians to have friends buy them cell phones and computers while traveling abroad. Now Argentina’s president has been getting cozy with Trump; maybe that’s more survival instinct than affinity, but it’s Not Good regardless. Like Philly, BA’s biggest downside is the country it’s trapped within.
Is living in Montevideo and spending one weekend (or even a full week) a month in Buenos Aires possible? Yes. Is that enough? I don’t know. Maybe not. Another strategy would be moving to Buenos Aires first and relocating to Montevideo if things get too complicated.
I have to learn Spanish either way, and that makes Madrid–and Europe–a real possibility again. So the man who hates travel has booked another trip: Madrid at the end of March. I still hate it, even if it’s gotten easier with practice. “Buenos Aires” means good winds, but the turbulence means the “fasten seat belts” sign is staying on.
