The Faena hotel neighbourhood, Puerto Madero, was a good place to kick start a run around Buenos Aires. I ran along the water past all the old factories and storehouses that have all been reimaged by the next generation of hip, young property developers. You soon leave the small, industrial island and cross the river back into Centro, the city proper.

The revolutionary past is very much embedded in Buenos Aires culture so any jog through its city streets is a history lesson. I ran straight onto the centerpiece of the city, Plaza de Mayo, which means “place of the May revolution.” This beautiful square is also a political lightening rod. Named after South America’s 1810 revolt against Spanish colonial rule, demonstrations are still held here. Evita performed her famous speeches to the people below from the Casa Rosada, or "pink house," where the first female President in her own right, Cristina Kirchner clung on, trying to outlast inflation and the stock market crash, until she got the heave-ho. City hall and the Metropolitan Cathedral are here also - so it’s a historically charged place to run through! I guess you know that the country that gave birth to tango is never going to be short of drama.

You can then run along the diagonal Avenue R. Saenz Pena that dissects the street grid to reach the massive obelisk on the Avenue 9. De Julio. This very wide double-sided boulevard with a strip in the middle is not only the pride of the city (they call it “their Champs Elysee”, although it’s not as beautiful) but the arterial gateway to most places in the city. The obelisk was built in the art deco period to celebrate the city’s 400th year and is now like a bird feeder for jubilant soccer fans every time their barrio wins.

I ran through the heart of the city right along Avenue 9 de Julio early in the morning on a workday, passing attractive well dressed work people. But hardly any joggers; I only passed about 3 the whole time. It’s so different from Rio where being active is part of the daily culture. I wondered, where do the citizens of Buenos Aires work off their chirizo sausage first thing in the morning?

My guide Mario said he wanted to take the Jonathan Said challenge and run and show me the Reserva Ecologica, a vast green space that’s east of Puerto Madero. It’s another world, and would be my lifeline if I lived here. Once again, my running habit leads me down the rabbit hole like Alice in Wonderland to places I would otherwise probably never know…

This is the arts district, which is very close to La Boca and beautiful to walk around because of the colonial, European architecture. You can stroll through the courtyards of old villas, the former homes of the Argentine upper class. There is a wonderful faded grandeur about the walls and the peeling plaster and beautiful wrought iron mezzanine balconies. There are cobblestone streets and antique stores so it’s the place to come to if you like character areas.

Plaza Dorrego comes to life with a Sunday market where artisans, painters and local jewelers sell their work and the whole neighborhood converges in one spot. We would have loved to see the ‘milonga,’ when the square is transformed into a dancefloor and the tango takes over.

Any busy area like San Telmo is full of small, walk-in tango clubs. We made a special trip to a traditional tango dinner theatre on our last night because we were still holding out for our strong travel ‘hit.’ It was an occasion - a good half-hour drive from the hotel to a gritty neighborhood with an old elevated railway track that most travelers never see called, EL Barracas. The artist Marino Santa Marina is on a campaign to rejuvenate it by transforming the walls with mosaics.

While Faena’s audience are tourists - albeit very well-heeled ones - this establishment caters for locals. The staff don’t talk a word of English. Language-wise the lovely waitress and I were a world apart and literally could not communicate; it was bizarre. We both laughingly gave up as she brought over small portions of savoury food like salami and pickles from an elevated long buffet stand. It’s only the beginning: you get a full three-course meal, which makes the high ticket price good value. There was so much food we couldn’t eat half of it!

The performance was in three acts. The history - from the Parisian influence of the early 1900s and the Grand Salon Argentina in the 1930’s. Its Golden Age - from 1940 to 1955, through the infamous presidency of Juan Peron and Evita. And its contemporary evolution into new, avant-garde interpretations, which was reflected in the updated look, with sexy leather dresses with peekaboo cutaways to show skin.

The dancers had that very 1940’s jazz look that totally contrasts the sexes - with women in gowns that cling to each curve like molten liquid then are slashed up the leg; the men in boxy, gangster suits and rakishly tilted hats. It was so glamorous. Just like in an old movie, little supper tables were placed around the floor. The dancers’ bodies swiveled in and out of each others’ paths with whip-speed; then they would slow down and slide to the floor, sinking to their knees as, seemingly intoxicated with each other, he arches her back, their mouths held inches apart.

It’s all very dramatic and nocturnal. You don’t get to see a man put his hand on his heart very often. The performers are really talented and the costumes and accessories are beautiful;   The singer, in a leather and fur jacket, had an amazing voice and you are really up close, the men in tails and twirling skirts right in front of you.

Argentinean families were there with their kids, so I guess they absorb tango from birth! One lady was watching her husband dance onstage while sitting with her ex, their child and his new wife. Sheira was chatting to them; they all come every second night to watch the show.

It was such an authentic, quality, non-commercial show that we thought it was worth the expensive bill, about US $320 for two. When you break it down with the meal - which we didn’t particularly want - it’s worth it.

It’s a great alternative to the Hotel Faena, which is a totally chic, hotel environment. This seemed like a very suburban, really Argentinean place
set back 60 years. We couldn’t even converse by hand language, like ‘can we get bread’, or ‘check please.’ The hotel probably won’t push El Barracas because they have their place but if you are fascinated with tango request both venues.

Buenos Aires hold the increasingly prestigious “Festival Internacional de Cine Independiente” - where filmmakers and actors gather from Argentine, Hollywood’s fringes and around the world to celebrate non-studio cinema. If you are a film buff, this could put BA on your calendar.

Tango fans should plan their holiday around the August Tango Festival, where the city gets even more fired up over tango than usual. Stars and up-and-comers perform and compete for the world cup, there are free lessons, outdoor ‘milongas’ (dance offs) - everyday life is definitely put on hold for the month!

But dancing in the streets will go into overdrive in 2010 when Argentina celebrates it’s 200th year of independence. Party animals should book in for the 25th of May when the city will take to the streets and have a riot - this time in a good way!

We were kindly invited for Sunday night dinner to our guide Mario’s house. He said, “Please do not book anything for your last night. Come and have dinner with my wife and children; I am going to cook a beautiful Argentinean meal on the barbecue for you.” We regard any slice of real life as a privilege when we travel; most visitors only ever get chance to press their nose against the glass and observe the city from an outsider perspective, staying with other foreigners in a hotel. If you were ever invited by a local to share in their home life I’d advise you not to overthink it, just go! Sheira and I were also intrigued, still longing for the uniquely Buenos Aires rush.

Our driver, Adolfo came to drive us to a narrow street with no windows, fading walls and one of those big, heavy doors with apartment bells. Mario’s typically Latin air as the cheeky player in the outside world has the classic, hospitable other side in the hearth of his family life, where even his mother-in-law is part of the inner domestic circle. Our driver, Adolfo is a family friend of Mario’s, so he was warmly invited to be part of the evening as well.

We bought gifts for his adorable little girls who had such excited faces and were so interested in copying English words. Nothing keeps an Argentinean from a sizzling grill it seems, so even in a small courtyard.
Mario was cooking a feast on his own barbecue, including black pudding (made from pig’s blood, like the Irish eat). They use grill layers and levers to cook and the timing is everything.

We spent quite a bit of time with his wife while he was cooking, looking at the paintings and portfolios on the wall. It was really sweet to sit down with a family who seemed so excited to have the man of the house bring his work into their domain. The mother-in-law turns around to her daughter and says in Spanish, “Sheira is like a supermodel. These foreigners are pretty glamorous.” Many Argentineans can speak a bit of English so although everyone wasn’t fluent we could go back and forth a bit and Mario could translate for us.

When we made a move to go after dinner at about 11pm because we had a long haul flight to Australia the next day there was a look of horror on everyone’s face. The kids had slept in the afternoon and the family expected us to stay until 1.00am. It’s a siesta culture. The night before they had all gone somewhere until 4.00am, keeping rock star hours! Mario’s parting gift included artwork that his daughters had done about us, which was a touching gesture. He also knew that I had an interest in music, not old-fashioned tango but “quick tango” – so he burnt a personal compilation for me, which I would never come across otherwise.

His goodbye letter had all the hallmarks of the legendary Latin charm. I can only imagine what it must be like to get a letter if you’re a girl when this one was just a courtesy letter from man to man! He paid homage to Sheira as a ‘1930s model’ and told me, “I will never forget your names, even after a few glasses of wine and a caipirinha… I will miss you tomorrow, the day after and every other minute that passes by…”