We returned to Buenos Aires from Uruguay with shared anticipation, as we knew what awaited our arrival.

Em and I had decided to live in a different suburb than Recoleta the location of our first stay in Buenos Aires, albeit it the neighbouring suburb. If Recoleta is ritzy then Palermo, the neighbouring suburb of choice for our second stint in Buenos Aires, is swanky with a splash of bohemia. Palermo is full of the newest and trendiest restaurants and gimmick bars; this is a result of a lot of new wealth that has moved into the region in the past couple of decades. Thankfully though, the trendiness is not distasteful, I guess we have the preceding couple of decades prior to the new wealth to thank for this as the cobblestoned, tree lined streets work beautifully with the one or two storey old brick and stone townhouses and boutique shops that reside behind them. These fantastic streets combined with the intermittent grassy plazas and the regular fares and craft markets make Palermo a great place to stay when visiting Buenos Aires, preferable in my mind to Recoleta.

We arrived into Palermo via the 'subte' (subway), which we were by now familiar with on Saturday 17th May. On route we managed to avert a pick pocket trying to steal our camera which Em diligently had coiled over her wrist, I also intervened when I spotted the thief's suspicious demeanour. We had decided to stay at a hostel called 'Casa Jardin' (Garden house) which was a small little hostel with seven rooms that we had discovered through Time Out, the English language tourist magazine published for Buenos Aires.

The entrance to the hostel was fantastic. Firstly, to find the place you need to know the exact house number on the street as there is no visible signposting or means to distinguish it from any of the other porteños' (Buenos Aires local) residences. We worked up the courage to press the door bell on the house we thought could be Casa Jardin and Em was readied with her broken Spanish, though far superior to my own grasp of the language, to converse with the individual on the other end of the intercom. Em doing well as she always does with Spanish, had us welcomed to enter through the grand front door. The entrance is a tall door, perhaps three or four meters made of solid old wood, yet scarcely wide enough for Em to stride through with her pack on, let alone me. Through the door and you arrive at a tall sweeping staircase of marble that leads to a foyer, which in a different life was likely a central dining room for a wealthy Palermo family. Off the central room is a single common room with fellow backpackers left over, half finish novels, maps, guitars and throw rugs. The common room also has a balcony to the street which gives you an opportunity for people watching as life goes on just below you. Em and I stayed in a double room the first night for 70 pesos, about $25 AUD. The second night we were forced to move rooms, to separate dorms. Having to move room, something we are familiar with comes about when other travellers', well thought, travel plans have them booking their room ahead of their arrival. This has been, and will continue to be, to the detriment of Em and my last minute travels plans, even in low season, as we are.

That night, Saturday night, craving some spice in our food which is all too notably lacking in South American cuisine, we headed for a recommended Indian restaurant that was an institution in Palermo. It was called the Bangalore hotel, which was a restaurant oozing character, though not necessarily Indian. It was built entirely, both inside and out, of carved wood, it reminds me of the Boho bar in Adelaide, if readers know of it. The Bangalore, as it is fondly know, was recommended not only to us, but also the rest of Palermo as it turned out. It was full to bursting. An hour and a half waitfor a seat had us eating at 11:00pm. Despite my selection of a curry that had three, the maximum, little chillis next to it on the menu it was scarcely hot at all, although thoroughly tasty. It was one of the first times also that Em and I had gone out for a nice dinner and drink, just us. We tend to get roped in, enthusiastically, into organise nights out with other travellers from whichever hostel we might be at. We had a thoroughly enjoyable night just the two of us, despite the fight that ended the night, part of being in around each other 24 hours a day I suppose. The dark lining on an otherwise silvery cloud.

Sunday was primarily put aside for another visit to the fabulous San Telmo Market which I shan't bore you with as I have detailed, I think, in a previous Buenos Aires journal. Sunday was also for getting the washing done, a mundane chore in Australia that is thoroughly rewarding in South America. Rather than trying to navigate a Spanish washing machine and dealing with the trouble of getting the washing dried we have been choosing to use the laundry services, not the same as dry cleaners, for 20 pesos, about $8 AUD, Em and I can get all our laundry done by simply dropping it off at the laundry lady (I would have no problem handing it over to the laundry man, but to be accurate it has been only women thus far, no judgements please) and at the end of the day we get our neatly folded, bone dry, delicious detergent smelling clothes back all done. The laundry service is something I will certainly miss when we leave.

As the budget is a little strained, South America is more expensive than we expected, Em and I have been trying to cook for ourselves more, which can be far cheaper than eating out everyday. Casa Jardin's roof-top garden was the place of choice for Em and I to eat our sweet, kids cereals and outstandingly large apples for breakfast, and for the salami pasta we cooked at the hostel for dinner that was big enough to feed us for lunch on the next day.Monday was the day of departure for the last time from Buenos Aires, as we were catching an overnight bus from Retiro Bus Terminal to Puerto Iguazu that was to take all of 18 hours. The bus didn't leave until 9:00pm so it left us the entire day to try and collect all the best bits of Buenos Aires to savour for the rest of our trip. We spent the day wandering the 'Japones Jardin' (Japanese Garden) which is the biggest example of a Japanese Garden outside of Japan I was reliably told. It was left to the Argentine capital as thanks for their hospitality many years ago by Japanese expats. We wandered the lovely streets of Palermo one last time and took the time for Em to savour one last 'Submarino', a special Argentine chocolate drink that involves hot milk and the submerging of a chocolate bar, before we caught our bus to Puerto Iguazu, Argentina.

One last farewell to Buenos Aires, the city of many lovable small things.