Day Fifty-Three: My Move To Palermo Soho

After two nights in the center of the city, I feel it’s time to move to Palermo on the recommendation of my cousin Ali, who lived here for her semester abroad. She sent me pages of tips and recommendations I plan to use.

Urban art in Palermo

I am on my way to check into the Palermo soho clubhouse. Palermo is about a fifteen minute drive from the center of the city. It is green and residential. It’s also a chic part of town, with cute boutiques and good restaurants.

Palermo SohoI arrive at the address I was given. it wasn’t posted on the internet. I find an unassuming facade. I must be in the wrong place. I call before leaving the taxi. This is it. I’m not optimistic.

Behind the unassuming facade is a chic lobby and pool. The hotel pool is a members club, similar to the Soho House in New York. They don’t have a sign. It’s hidden. I found it in Time Out. It is a property managed by Oasis BA, a company that rents out luxury apartments in the city. It was advertised as a place to lounge by the pool, but the article said they had rooms. I thought it looked like a cool place to stay, so I inquired this morning and here I am.

There are three rooms and I am the only guest staying here. It is open Tuesday through Sunday so it’s empty today, Monday. But the staff is very nice and helpful.

I can’t check into my room until two so I spend some time wandering around my new hood. There are lots of boutiques and trendy restaurants. I settle at Mama Racha for lunch. I order a caiparinha and wow, it is strong. Maybe it’s just me this afternoon, but i am afraid if I finish it I will be out of commission for the next few hours. It starts to rain so I pay the check and head back to the hotel.

When I return to the hotel I am offered at 25% discount because the tv doesn’t work. I am the first guest to stay here. It just opened as a member club two months ago. This place is unbelievable. I have my own sauna, bath tub, two showers and a terrace. Yes, my own sauna, in the bathroom. Most importantly, Emily, who works here, is so sweet and helpful. She is so accommodating. “You are our first guest, we are so excited to have you!” she tells me. 

My bathroomIt’s three o’clock and I’m still slightly tipsy from my super strong caiparinha. But I decide to take a little jog. I am heading to the recoleta cemetery on Emily’s suggestion. I run through park after park after park and in about ten circles before I get there an hour and a half later. I must look a little silly running with a map in front of me.

On my runI walk into the cemetery. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s a little town of homes for graves. Small alleyways, ornate little buildings, each with their own character, trying their best to outdo their neighbors, like the houses on ocean drive in palm beach. Some of them are at least three stories high. I wonder if they have air rights and what the market is like for one of these places. It’s amazing what people do for their dead bodies to be remembered. I think about the pyramids.

I am an organ donor. When I’m gone, I’m gone. I don’t want a shrine to be remembered.  I don’t have a view on the afterlife because anything I could come up with would only be speculation. Life is too short to spend it preparing for when you die. Heaven, purgatory, reincarnation, endless sleep or maybe something we haven’t even considered yet.  Sure, you can hedge yourself, but it seems pretty silly to me.  You should live your life so you feel good about yourself and the decisions you make along the way. Whatever that may mean to you. And doing so shouldn’t harm others. Treat people with respect, no matter their walk in life.  I’m pretty sure I’ve found my heaven on earth.  I’m not perfect of course, but I love my life. I do realize how fortunate I am though. I cant fully understand but i do appreciate that many, if not most, people in this world are born into hard situations and believing in the afterlife is all they have to get them through the day. I don’t doubt that we are all connected, I am just not sure what it is and I choose not to guess.

Recoleta Cemetery

This cemetery is a pretty creepy place. I wander through endless rows and find myself alone at the dead end of a long corridor. I get the heebie jeebies and decide it’s time to go. I walk around recoleta. My cousin Ali likened it to the upper east side of BA. I can see that. It’s not quite as pretentious however, just really nice.

In RecoletaThe buildings are much bigger than in Palermo, about 10 to 15 stories. After about 15 minutes I find myself back at the cemetery. I am really not very good at following this map. I try again. Twenty minutes later, another large circle back to the cemetery and I decide to wave down a radio taxi to take me back. The driver is friendly and teaches me some new words. Mujer Bonita. Muy Bonita. He is harmless though.

I shower and head out for a bite to eat. First I catch up with Catherine and Emily. They tell me about a chef coming to teach a cooking class with members and guests on Wednesday. Sign me up! They are so accommodating. It’s fun to be the only guest. They stack the fridge with yogurt and the cabinets with cereal and snacks. It’s not a mini bar. I can help myself. “Please make yourself comfortable and at home,” Emily tells me. I love this place.

I also love this neighborhood, Palermo Soho.  I wander around for about an hour before I settle down at Minga where I enjoy a delicious Argentinian steak.  I am not coming back from here skinny.  So much for all of that yoga.  I did run About 12 miles today though.

In PalermoFinally I hear from Inez.  She is in Cordoba.  I am relieved to hear she is ok.  I need to figure out my plan. Perhaps we will meet in Bariloche or Mendoza.

I meet Kike, Max’s friend, at Franks in Palermo Hollywood.  He is with his sister Rosario.  Kike is a musician. Franks is a lounge.  You walk in the door and type number into a telephone booth to get in the door, similar to PDT in New York except that there is a sign outside and you don’t need a reservation.  It appears that the place is trying to be exclusive, but it isn’t.  It’s a cool place though.  Good drinks and good music.  A few of Kike’s friends wander in, mostly musicians, all from different bands.  They all meet backstage and become friends.

Sergio, Ezequiel and me at Franks

After a few drinks I call it a night around three in the morning when Kike and pals head to a club.  My room is dreadfully hot and I can’t sleep.  I go to the room upstairs.  The door is unlocked and the air is on.  Like goldilocks, I’ve tested the options and this room is just right.  See more pictures