What Living in Buenos Aires Taught Me After Quitting My Job
When I first landed in Buenos Aires, I didn’t come with a checklist. No “top ten” routes or guides. Just time—and the hope that a place might slow me down a bit. Argentina did that, and more.
The light here is unreal. The kind that makes even a regular street corner look cinematic. You walk out and suddenly, your day is warm, golden, and full of small moments worth pausing for.
Buenos Aires is not loud in a rush-hour way. It’s loud in a gentle, neighbor-chatting-over-coffee way. People let you cross the street without drama. There’s no push at the checkout line. No one rushing. I found my breath again here.
I stayed near Palermo and Recoleta, areas once called the most expensive in the world. They’re still full of character—even if some buildings are showing their age. My apartment had that lived-in charm. There’s a locksmith shop, a print shop, a charging kiosk, all on the same block. I stopped at the cafe on the corner most days. Nobody was in a hurry there either.
Not everything was perfect. Some tourist areas feel polished, while others feel worn and real. Streets and restrooms can vary wildly in cleanliness. It didn’t bother me much, but it’s worth knowing if you expect uniform comfort.
For groceries, I mostly stuck with local supermercados. The inventory could change daily—no guarantee of what you’d find—but that randomness kept it interesting. I’d carry my 20L expandable backpack every time I went out. It fits enough for a few days’ worth of produce, plus space for extras like snacks, sunscreen, and my notebook. The expandable zone came in handy whenever I stumbled upon something unexpected—like a flea market find or an extra loaf of fresh bread.
Taxi prices swing a lot depending on time and season. One moment it’s cheap, the next you’re wondering if you paid for the whole car. Restaurants vary too—most don’t show pictures on the menu, and portions are generous. If you’re not used to the dining style here, read up before going out. It made my meals more enjoyable.
Locals told me that weekends are for getting out of town. The city empties as families head to the coast or countryside. It’s peaceful, but you’ll feel it in the crowd shift. And beware of travel timing—public transit can get crowded just like any big city.
On Sundays, though, the markets wake up. I walked to San Telmo Market nearly every week. There’s something grounding about weaving through stalls of old vinyls, handmade textiles, and kids selling lemon ice on the curb. Cash is king here, by the way—bring enough for everything.
Buenos Aires isn’t the easiest city I’ve lived in. But it’s the one that taught me how to slow down again. And for that, I’d carry my expandable backpack across half the world all over again.
