
Reflections – Duarte “Eva Perón’ family grave
… really, there’s no need. This is not going to be another one of those silly posts. I am not going to tell you how we visited Recoleta Cemetery, the dead centre of town. I am not going to tell you how we waited at the entrance while a skeleton staff stood by idly. I am not going to tell you how we made a grave mistake in not getting a guide to show us around. I am not going to tell you about all the scrawny dishevelled looking cats – I wanted to yell out ‘give that cat a comb’. And I am definitely not going to tell you how even the smallest plots cost upwards of US$700,000, and people are dying to get in … that really would be corny.
However, I will tell you how we walked around on a beautiful sunny morning, getting lost in the labyrinth of laneways that led between the mainly impeccably maintained mausoleums; how we managed to find María Eva Duarte de Perón’s grave, (aka Eva Perón, aka Evita); and how I had lots of fun taking photographs of shadows and light and reflections, and the occasional exposed coffin.
When I go, I don’t think I’d like to end up in a morbid mausoleum. I think I’d like to be unravelled and made into a pom-pom. A little tuft of wool. Life is easy when you’re a pom-pom.
You want to see the pictures? Sure you do.

Being a finger puppet, it's easy to get lost in the crowd. Sure, being small has its advantages; like sneaking into clubs, travelling around the world for free, etc etc ... but often I don't feel people hear the real me and when they do they giggle and stroke me. I can hear them now "Oh cool, a finger puppet. Isn't he cute?"
So here I am, larger than life, blogging away. You can call me Big Al.
Recent Comments