i have a friend that used to go for a run in park and stop by there. its all in house
Well, I don't run anymore. At my age and with my knees, my fastest pace these days is more like a half-assed civilian version of the airborne shuffle, but I used to walk through the park 3-4 times a week, back when I lived in Las Cañitas.
My usual route was along Dorrego past the Campo de Polo, across Libertador, and along the front side of the Hipódromo. Early most mornings they'd have a few horses out on the track just stretching their legs. A race horse is one of God's most useless creatures in practical terms; they're only good for one thing, but they do that one thing very, very well, and to watch them in motion in a thing of beauty. When I reached the end of the Hipódromo I'd turn left into the park and walk up the back side of the track, past the breeders and trainers entrance, where there was a little sign notifying all who entered that inside the traffic moved on the
left side of the road, for reasons known only to God and the English. Then I'd go diagonally through the park, passing the railroad tracks and the Tennis Club just before emerging onto Libertador again, and thence back home. It was a neat little 5K stroll and took me about an hour.
The first time I saw the "girls" back there, I noticed they were somewhat friendly, waving to me and calling out greetings. I waved back and said hello and kept going, but I noticed they seemed to have rather deep voices. I had already noticed that women here in Argentina often have somewhat deeper voices than their North American sisters, so I didn't think much of it. As time went on, I noted they were there every morning, and we exchanged greetings and a friendly wave. Finally I mentioned it to my
portera, and when she eventually stopped laughing, she told me what was going on, and introduced me to the phrase "muchachas con manija".
Las Cañitas was an interesting neighborhood. The other thing that happened at the Campo de Polo was that the Regiment of Mounted Grenadiers used it for drill, Their barracks was over toward the Ministro Carranza station, next to the Military Engineering school, and they'd pass under my balcony on their way there and back, leaving a generous helping of horse apples in the road as they passed. I was always impressed with their band. Anyone who can ride a horse and play an instrument at the same time has my deep respect.