There is a touch of the Bohemian to it all, a playful, raffish feel that comes across as a combination of New York, Naples and Barcelona. The fa?es of Boca’s cafes and restaurants are painted in vivid gypsy caravan-style designs. Many display a plaque, or statue, to the city fire brigade, a sensible precaution when one looks at all the tinderbox buildings squeezed together down narrow alleyways. Street entertainers spray-painted in bronze make children yelp by tapping their shoulders and freezing instantly into poses of dandies from yesteryear.The tradition of caf?ociety lives on across the city, most clearly in the cobbled streets of the Bohemian quarter of San Telmo, adjacent to La Boca. Here, bearded artistic types, scruffily dressed, shuffle around in slippers, sip coffee in family run caf? and gaze at the passing world through open windows.
Sunday is the day to visit, when a sprawling flea market takes over and telephones that could serve as props in Hitchcock movies stand next to meticulously preserved His Master’s Voice gramophones.Snatches of tango dances start up once the heat of the day has dissipated, as old men quick-step with their shadows in the gentle light of the late afternoon sun, proudly displaying their graduation certificates from tango schools of the 1950s. A little further away, in downtown, lies perhaps the most venerable of all confiterias, Caf?ortoni. The economic chaos that has hit this fiercely patriotic nation – “harder than the 1929 slump” according to one waiter – seems to stop at the front door which opens to reveal a magnificent mahogany-panelled caf?ith leather chairs, Art Nouveau glass ceilings and marble table-tops at which chat elegant women and moustachioed men.The grace and style that characterises Buenos Aires survives even in death. Recoleta cemetery, to the north of the centre, is the final home of the rich and famous. Marble mausoleums stand side by side interspersed with monkey puzzle trees.
Many are mini-crypts with steps leading down to tombs while statues of soldiers guard the burial sites of generals. Evita Peron lies here, too, buried 30 feet underground to prevent political opponents from exhuming her body. Fresh flowers are laid daily and her resting place is a pilgrimage centre for foreigners and Argentines alike, most of whom see her as a modern-day saint who helped the poor and cut through the snobbery of upper-class Buenos Aires.Among the plaques is a tribute from the city’s taxi drivers’ union, in their distinctive black and yellow livery. One of her epitaphs does actually say words, which roughly translated, read: “Don’t cry for me Argentina, I remain quite near to you.” Say what you like about Andrew Lloyd Webber, at least he does his research.The FactsGetting thereUntil the end of June, return flights from London to Buenos Aires cost from £676. A six-night holiday staying at the four-star Claridge Hotel starts from £935 per person, based on two sharing, with Journey Latin America (020-8747 8315; america ). The price includes return flights from Heathrow with British Airways, accommodation on a b&b basis and transfers.Further informationArgentinean Embassy (020-7318 1300).. Born in 1962 in Australia to parents who were both naturalists, Steve Irwin spent his childhood helping to care for the animals at the family’s reptile park in Queensland.
He became famous for his television shows, ‘Crocodile Hunter’ and ‘Croc Files’, in which he aimed to get cheek-by-scaly-jowl to the kind of animals most humans actively avoid. A real-life Crocodile Dundee, Irwin’s overgrown boy-scout looks, ebullience in the face of man-eating beasts and ability to say “crikey” a lot have seen him caricatured in ‘South Park’, and playing the lead in last year’s movie ‘The Crocodile Hunter: Collision Course’. Here Irwin describes a feared crocodile more than 30ft long and the attempt to trap it
Born in 1962 in Australia to parents who were both naturalists, Steve Irwin spent his childhood helping to care for the animals at the family’s reptile park in Queensland. They had been killing his family for over fifty years and he knew that if he looked at the lights the loudest of all animals would call and his death would follow.It was while we were assisting the Queensland National Parks and Wildlife Service with relocating rogue crocodiles, that Dad and I heard the tale of this legendary croc. We felt drawn to him.From the moment we laid eyes on the habitat belonging to the big croc we fell in love with it, a truly magnificent tidal system laced with enchanted mangroves and wetlands fed by the spectacular tropical rainforests of the Great Dividing Range. This picturesque environment supported a myriad of wildlife, from its apex predator, the saltwater crocodile, to docile vegetarians, from agile wallabies to microscopic marine life.But the area is the scene of classic conflict between man and the environment. Cane farms are bulldozed all the way to the river, and there’s pollution of the river systems exacerbated by speed boats.We spent many months scanning the muddy riverbanks, a primeval ooze teeming with life, on the low tide, hoping to see the slides or marks left by our quarry.