Estados Unidos

Calle Estados Unidos is a fascinating street of Buenos Aires. If we follow it out to the west beyond barrio Caballito, our tree-lined calle fades into calle Valle, only to end abruptly eighteen blocks later at calle Miró (just short of LaBaldosa Milonga). 

But, for the purpose of our adventure we shall walk east taking us on a journey through Boedo, Monserrat, San Telmo and finally into Puerto Madero.

Treaty of Pilar 1820

Following the defeat of the 'Unitarians' by the 'Federals' in 1820, the new ‘United Provinces of the Rio de la Plata’ was recognised by the USA, and Calle Estados Unidos was later named in their honour. 

It is one of the city’s greener streets bearing jacaranda and tipuana tipu trees along its length. In spring and autumn the pavements glow with pink and yellow petals. With a relaxed feel, preserved architecture, and an intimacy, it presents as a favourite street to walk.

Save for the inexplicable dog-leg at Riobamba, Estados Unidos is a straight, one-way grid road running west to east bringing light traffic into the city. It is sandwiched between the busy east to west roads of Independencia and Carlos Calvo which take traffic from the centre. On the whole, incoming traffic seems to prefer the more versatile roads of Chile to the north and San Juan with its wide open carriageway to the south.

Estados Unidos is unremarkable before we reach Av Boedo, where the street passes one block to the north of DeQuerusa Milonga at Carlos Calvo 3745, skirting the gardens of Plaza Mariano Boedo, and running three blocks north of Club Gricel Milonga at La Rioja 1184.

At Pres Luis Saenez Pena you are but one block from Casa Bella (Independencia 1502), a worthy detour to an emporium selling everything from a portable BBQ to a full size asado.

Estados Unidos becomes more interesting once across 9 de Julio (the widest avenida in Buenos Aires) as you enter barrio San Telmo. Passing the small park of Plaza Concepcion del Alto de San Pedor, the street narrows and cobbles replace tarmac.

At Tacuari 905 is our first San Telmo milonga ‘Chanta 4’, and at Estados Unidos 802 you will encounter the Museo Argentino del Titere (puppet museum).

A stop at Estados Unidos 617 is a must. Here you will find Walrus Books, one of the more interesting stores in Buenos Aires, stocking the widest selection of foreign books in the city.




Further on look out for the street art at 553 and proceed down to Peru, where a few steps right will take you to The Gibraltar at 895, a very popular San Telmo pub. Thirst quenched, continue on to La Brigada at 465.



La Brigada is said to be one of the best steak restaurants in Buenos Aires, combining eating with football. But this place is no slouch. Booking is essential, as is a well-charged credit card. It is all worth the effort and expense, setting almost unattainable standards of cuisine and service for its rivals.

Across the road from La Brigada is the Mercado de San Telmo, the city’s most iconic covered market containing restaurants, cafes, antiques, hardware, grocers and butchers.

Freddo (Defensa 901) might prove to be a suitable stop for ice cream, but for morning coffee, lunch or afternoon cocktails continue down to Café Rivas at 302. This has to be a favourite for those visiting San Telmo. Intimate, smart and friendly, Café Rivas ticks all boxes for those seeking a midday snack or full evening meal. For vegetarians, continue down to Balcarce, turn right to 958 where you will find Naturaleza Sabia.



Beyond Balcarce, Estados Unidos descends to Av Paseo Colon with the dramatic frontage of the Engineering faculty on your left and the gorgeous Ministry of Agroindustry to the right. Walking between them leads you towards Av Alicia Moreau de Justo, the gateway to Puerto Madero where Estados Unidos gives way to Rosario Vera Penaloza and the Rio Darsena Sur.

San Telmo Diary

He looks over his glasses and directs a thumb to a screen. Fingermarks register our return visit. He smiles. Without words his eyes say ‘Welcome to Argentina’. Through the ‘nothing to declare’ channel, from the kiosk we buy a Manuel Tienda Leon coach ride from Ezeiza to Buenos Aires, and walk towards the electric doors. 

I look at Stephanie and our eyes meet. We had pictured this moment as one we would recognise: the point of transition between two worlds: leaving Europe and returning to Latin America.

There is something about the moment that is singular. Flight side is busy in a workmanlike way. It is a last refuge, where you may check your luggage, retrieve a purse of pesos or find an address. The doors slide and we pass through to the city side - a new, vibrant, pulsating Latin world of humanity. Tiers of drivers hold placards, some hastily drawn in felt-tip, others boldly announcing corporations; porters rush around with trolleys and cases; families holding flasks of mate are meeting and hugging; police stand in small clusters; voices call; a shrill whistle blows and a surge of taxis and coaches jockey for position on the grid.

Outside the terminal its hot, yet fresh. A light breeze stirs tall palms and blows fallen blooms of purple Jacaranda across the paving. We have arrived.

All vehicles arriving at Ezeiza at some stage must leave. Like other airports around the world, it is after all just a point of transition, its currency being ‘the journey’. But whilst arrival here is simple and seamless, departure is typically Argentine. 

Our coach bustles onto the exit lane. Already horns are sounding, the coach driver shouts at a taxi. Vehicles rush for the exit, each space a small war-zone. Our bulk and the telling dents to the rear off-side carry the day as queues of small cars and taxis snarl behind us. Now the breeze ruffles stretched curtains at the windows and there is a rhythmical chink from the limp workings of the speed limiter as it hangs uselessly against the bulkhead.

On the autopista and through two sets of tolls, we are now heading into the city. Alongside is our strangely familiar Buenos Aires, a city in constant flux with half-built blocks and roofs covered with water tanks and satellite discs. From the raised sections of the carriageway the city stretches interminably, dense, sprawling and compact. Millions of lives are buzzing like small electrical currents and with them, the hustle of city life. We descend from the elevated Autopista 25 de Mayo, turn east in Avenida San Juan onto Paseo Colon. Working our way through the crisis bus-lane road works, we arrive at Retiro. The coach squeezes into the narrow dog's-leg entrance to Manuel Tienda Leon coach stop where we transfer to a little grey taxi, and start our return journey to San Telmo.