I love Buenos Aires every month, but the summer vacation onda of January makes for thirty-one days of pleasure and delight.
January in Buenos Aires is a secret bliss, and a Yanqui’s paradise. The city is hot and breezy, with the longest sunny days and temperate nights. The trees are in full bloom and the park grass is soft and perfect for reclining. The dogs are happy to play, the exotic birds gleefully chirp. The city is alive and mellow; for once traffic seems less lethal.
And the very best part? The city is almost completely empty. In January the Portenos pack up and abandon the capital and head for the crowded seashore in Mar del Plata. Buenos Aires is left with a fraction of its high-season population. Only tourists and Portenos too large for the notoriously tiny Argentine swimsuits remain. My favorite dietetica is closed for the month, but the ice cream shops are all open.
January’s Buenos Aires pauses the extremely intense social whirlwind of unending stimuli, just long enough for us to refresh, and then get right back to it. Summer in the city is supreme.