"In the early part of the last century the vast quantities
of meat and grain that Argentina exported to the world made it a
country of colossal wealth. Completed in 1908 and occupying an
entire block of the city's gridiron street layout, the Teatro Colón
was conceived on a scale to symbolise that wealth, a jaw-dropping
manifestation of the phrase heard back then from New York to London
and beyond: As rich as an Argentine."
I recently visited the Teatro
Colon twice in two days, the first was a guided tour in English
with my new friends Ramiro and Meghan. The teatro is truly
spectacular and should not be missed but... at a cost of 60 pesos
the tour showed us a limited amount and the commentary was nothing
you couldn't learn on google in 2 minutes.
However, the beauty of travel blogging is that you all get to
learn from my mistake. After the tour I went to the ticket desk and
bought a 10 pesos ticket (less than €2) for the Ballet Temporada -
El Corsario the next evening. Granted, I was
in the standing gallery on the 7th level but it meant seeing the
teatro from a birds eye view as it was intended to be experienced.
Apparently the best sound is on the top level where I was standing
in what they refer to as the Chicken Box.
I saw the well-to-do ladies in their dresses, I saw the lights
dim, the curtain part and heard the orchestra pierce through the
silence and anticipation of the crowd. As tightly toned men and
women pranced and danced across the stage in sequined leotards and
flamboyant costumes I compared the two experiences in my mind. The
tour was was a sheep-herding tourist trap that ticked the box
whereas at the show I felt the colossally decadent Teatro Colon
come to life as it breathed and heaved with creative human
expression.
After the show I walked down Avendida Corrientes, one of the main streets in
BA that extends 69 blocks and is intimately tied to the tango and the porteño sense of identity. It's also home to
Güerrin, one of the oldest pizza places in town. I
ordered a slice of Mozzerella pizza and ate it at the stand-up bar.
It's a lesson in cheesiness as you dig around looking for the crust
beneath the melted goo. In the end I gave up the search and ate it
with a knife and fork, enjoying every last stringy
biteful.
