January 5th
A warm and lively Sunday in San Telmo, I soaked in the perfect weather and neighborhood buzz with plenty of people-watching and wandering. I stopped by one of my favorite spots—Bar Británico. A classic San Telmo café with an old-school vibe, that’s just a few minutes from the apartment and my go-to for a strong, cheap coffee. Apparently, I’ve never been on a Sunday, though, because it was next-level busy: waiters weaving between tables, animated conversations filling the room, and a musician playing accordion and singing, with the music echoing through the café and spilling out onto the street.
I found a corner seat to sip my coffee, read my book, and soak in the sights and sounds. Two older men at the table next to me struck up a conversation, sharing that they live in another part of the city and don’t visit San Telmo often but love walking the market and stopping here when a perfect Sunday arises. As they left, they gave a friendly, “Ciao—maybe we’ll see you here again.”
I gathered my things and kept wandering through the vibrant street market, stopping by my favorite stalls to see what new treasures they had on offer. It’s practically become a Sunday ritual for me at this point, and I love the familiar rhythm of it. On my way home, I made a stop at the park, where families and friends were gathered, sipping maté and enjoying the day.
I called my family back home, keeping up our own Sunday routine. I felt a little homesick not being with them, but talking to them helped bridge the gap. Maybe I wasn’t sitting in the park with family like everyone else here, but for now, this feels close enough. ♡
