small stories from the road — and the dogs who come along
No itineraries, no rankings. Just the places we loved and the little things that made the day.
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We woke up early for once, and it paid off. By seven the canal was already busy with delivery boats, but the terrace was empty — just us, a pot of coffee and a view of the Salute dome catching the first light.
Breakfast came slowly, the way it should: pastries still warm, fresh orange juice, a plate of fruit nobody ordered but everybody ate. A gondolier drifted past and waved. Nothing happened, and it was the best hour of the trip.
Buenos Aires rewards walking with no plan. We started at the Plaza de Mayo, drifted past the old Cabildo, and ended the afternoon under the palms of a park whose name we never learned.
Tip if you go: sit down for a coffee every couple of hours. The city is best watched, not rushed — and the cafés are half the reason to be there.
People ask how we travel with a small dog. Honestly, she decides most things: which café, which bench, how long we stay. A soft blanket, a familiar toy and a routine that doesn't change too much go a long way.
A new puppy mostly means naps — theirs and, eventually, yours. The first week was short walks, a lot of patience, and one very chewed slipper. Worth every minute.
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