The Eye of the Tigre

Morning came quickly this past Monday. As in, we rose at the south-of-the-equator 'brisk' hour of 10:30am after demolishing more meat, pasta and french fries with guacamole, cream cheese and a jalapeno dipping sauce the night before.

The city of Tigre was calling to us on this sweltering hot day, and we answered.

We officially began the day as many Argentineans do by stopping for a quick café con leche and media luna (croissant). Then, capitalizing on the last 20 months of familiarity with trains, we took two different subway lines to arrive at the train station of Retiro.


We quickly paid roughly $.75 each for a round-trip ticket to Tigre on the local commuter train. Although the trains were equipped with plenty of seats, they were all taken by the time we boarded and were left to lean on mini plastic quasi-seats for the hour train ride. In addition to conversing with each other, we saw people selling food and purses, as well as breast feed on the train. Never a dull moment.

Known for day and weekend trips from Buenos Aires as well as its vast delta system,we consulted the tourist office in Tigre to make sure we got on the local boat that made stops at the small, inhabited islands instead of a non-stop, two hour guided tour of the delta.

About 45 minutes into our boat ride, we got off at the stop Tres Bocas, which was aptly named because there are three places to eat there. If your following chronologically through our day I think you know where we’re going with this. This meant we were finally able to eat again.

Upon disembarking and crossing a couple bridges, we chose to eat at Hornero’s because of a fancy handout and the closeness to Jeannie’s last name. This feast began with bread an herbed mayo (who needs butter, anyway) and then we split a huge plate of french fries, a ginormous slab of beef similar to a New York strip steak with fresh salsa, and topped off with some strawberry ice cream. Yum Yum.

Made up of almost entirely of cabanas, homes, and hostels, we made quick work of the remaining delta area and headed back to the mainland to check out the craft market. Despite typically bristling with locals and tourists alike on weekends, there were only a couple stalls open during the late afternoon of a weekday.

Ari found a masculine silver ring with a braid down the middle and, realizing that unless we wanted to buy a wagon wheel or tarantula, we called this little adventure a win and headed back to Buenos Aires where an old dog would pretend to learn a new trick.