Buenos Aires: city of passion

Buenos Aires is often billed as the Paris of the South, and it certainly has the appropriate sophistication, the fin-de-siècle grace, and the couture.

But the real magic of the city lies in something essentially Latin. Trying to discover just what that something is can be the most fascinating part of a visit. Marlene Dietrich came close when she said: "Latinos are tenderly enthusiastic. In Brazil they throw flowers at you. In Argentina they throw themselves."

"We don't have a middle road," agrees one young porteño (a person from Buenos Aires). "We love or we hate."

The rooms at Legado Mitíco, my hotel in the Palermo Viejo district, were named after revered Argentines – the mystical writer Jorge Luis Borges, tango star Carlos Gardel, Evita Perón, of course, as well as a couple of military heroes, and even the comic-strip character Mafalda (an acerbic six year-old). Curiously, though, no Maradona. Perhaps the footballer didn't quite fit the hotel's stylish image, or maybe the omission was out of sensitivity to English guests' feelings.