Like I said, my pictures from Buenos Aires are a themeless jambalaya of shit I biked past.
The only official touristy thing I did was visit the big cemetery in the city center, and I only lasted about 15 minutes
Whenever I got off my bike to investigate anything, I found an excuse to keep going after 5 or 10 minutes. Even my meals were mostly standing.
I know you shouldn't judge a hotel by its signage, but I'm glad I didn't stay at this one.
I made it to the museum of modern art and checked out the exhibitions for almost 20 minutes, a personal best.
This is clearly Argentina's attempt to attract the filming of the next Men in Black movie.
Dismount, snap, mount.
This park smelled like chorizo and spray paint.
While this one smelled like expat and optimism. Diversity!
This is what most of the barrios look like. Little buildings with so much character they're in danger of falling over.
Try not to notice how small the leaf is. Go ahead, try.
For some reason Argentina's Poseidon is more bored and sickly than others I've seen.
No matter where you are, banks are architected to do the opposite of invite you in.
So are cemeteries, but by the time you're invited, you don't care I guess.
This pond flooded after the thunderstorm. The joggers looked bemused and terrified, trying to stay in the little stripe between the water and the mud.
An art museum in Tigre. It's probably amazing inside, but I glided past without stopping.
Everything looks like the 1970s if you shoot it through pink clingfilm. If I had figured this out before Instagram, I'd be a millionaire.
I thought this was the ocean when I first got there. 'Worst ocean ever, Argentina!' I thought.
But by the time I realized where I was, I had already left.