The Doors

Every day, many times a day, my husband and I , with  Tate the pup, would walk in and out of these doors. These were the doors to our apartment building in Buenos Aires.
First you went through glass doors, down 4 steps then walk to these doors.
You got in and out with a key. A big brass key. I loved that key.
I also loved the doors and the view.
Outside those doors .. across the street, when we moved in, was an ice cream shop.
My husband quickly became the owners best friend forever ... or at least until they closed up and left. He was sad for a day or two then found another one even better around the corner.
You don't have to walk far to get ice cream in Buenos Aires !
Across the street, those buildings are fabulous examples of the French architecture that can be found all over the city. Lacy ironwork balconies, French doors, lots of windows and inside at night you can see the lights hanging from 18- 20 ft high ceilings.
And I knew that if they were looking out their window, they were seeing the same thing in our windows.

We watched demonstrations on that street, we saw a riot with police and water canons.
We saw Hari Krishna parades with colored water and singing and beautiful saris and no elephants.
We saw mounted police on horses that looked like they should be in a horse show.
We saw mounted police that looked like they should be on the cover of a magazine .

The taxi would stop right there by the little tree and take us wherever we wanted to go.
Those rides were thrill rides, no matter how the taxi driver drove, there was Buenos Aires traffic. Buenos Aires drivers ... the speed demons, the "I laugh at red lights" drivers, but they all seemed to listen to the very best music !
 I never minded being stuck in a taxi ..  now and then, there was a driver who would sing along to the radio whose voice was actually better than the singer on the radio.
We never had a bad taxi driver.
We only had some who were exceptional but they were all great.

I waited outside those doors with my husband for my son and his bride to arrive for a visit.
We waited outside those doors for the taxi to take us to San Telmo to go antiquing,  to take us to dinner at night with friends, to take us to a milonga to watch people dance Tango, to avoid getting soaked in a rainstorm ..

Those doors are where we accepted our pizza deliveries, Chinese food, Indian food ..
We could have had our groceries delivered, ice cream, items from the pharmacy, whatever you buy, you can have delivered, right to your door.

I remember walking in those doors for the first time ... my husband and I grinning at each other.
I remember walking through them for the last time ... my husband and I wistfully smiling at each other ... we were looking forward to coming back to the United States but we were sad to be leaving Buenos Aires ...

They are good doors .. I miss them.