Reflections on our family’s adventures as we live, work, and play around the world
My sister Joanna spent the summer with us as nanny extraordinaire, before heading back to the United States last week to start her first year of college as a musical theater major. We’ll miss her smiles, random bursts into song, and the opportunity to leave the house for dinner without a toddler in tow. Theo now periodically chides us with “well, Joanna said” or “Joanna would let me” as Brian and I transition back into split work/childcare schedules.
Theo and I have made two visits to the beautiful Recoleta Cemetery in search of the 50 -80 cats that theoretically live there. (Most other cemetery visitors seem to be searching for Eva Perón’s grave.)
While our cooking patterns adapt a bunch each month depending on where we live and what’s available in the markets, we’ve made at least one batch of soup at every home except Costa Rica. (Heat and ant invasions do not encourage soup-making.)
The playgrounds in Buenos Aires are numerous, well-maintained, and full of children, especially during the post-school hours of 4 to 6 pm. Going to the playground seems to be woven into the daily routines of many families, similar to what we experienced in Lyon (France) and Stockholm (Sweden).
We ended up at Mercado de las Puglas because it was housing a farmers market for the weekend, but I ended up loving the antique/flea/restored-furniture market portion too, even though we’re definitely not in the market for any furniture.
I’m often asked why we chose this place or that place to spend a month of our trip. Sometimes it’s based on previous trips, recommendations, proximity to another location, the language, or simply a whim. In Europe we always had to consider our Schengen-area time, which sent us to previously-not-well-known-to-us (but fascinating!) places like Cyprus.
However, we definitely picked Buenos Aires because of tango.
Just a few blocks from our apartment in Buenos Aires, I found a shop with the best chocolate truffles I’ve ever eaten. The texture, the chocolate, the flavors – it was all perfection.
The day of our flight to New Zealand, Brian bought a box for a coworker in Auckland. “Wait, you didn’t get any for us,” I joked. Well, not really joked. That afternoon, I bought a second box to eat during difficult travel moments when we need serotonin. Chocolate while traveling is a ritual for us at this point. (For fans of Harry Potter, just imagine that we’re trying to keep the dementors away.)
In addition to tasty coffee, the Auckland cafes we’ve visited will make a “fluffy” for kids, an espresso cup of foamed milk, sometimes with a sprinkle of chocolate and generally accompanied by a marshmallow.
Our home here is probably technically in the suburbs of Auckland (in Westmere), but it’s an area of quick transitions between residential and commercial, not an ongoing sprawl of houses. We can walk to a good cafe in two minutes and several areas of concentrated small shops and restaurants (including good Indian food!) in ten to twenty. There are plenty of nearby parks, playgrounds, and other green spaces.
