Buenos Aires Along Avenida De Mayo To Plaza Congreso

Avenida de Mayo, the cafe-lined axis that connects Plaza de Mayo and Plaza del Congreso to the west, is one of the most important thoroughfares in the city. Named for the 1810 May Revolution, the avenue was inspired by equivalents across the Atlantic in Europe, such as Madrid’s Gran Vía and, of course, Paris’ Champs-Élysées. The buildings, largely in Neo-Baroque and Neoclassical style, are appropriately European in spirit, too. One distinctive example, La Prensa, a gorgeous, massive ornate building with wrought-iron lamps, doors, and stone carvings, was once the headquarters of the prominent newspaper of the same name. It’s a government building today. (Av. de Mayo 575.) Another standout is the Art Nouveau Cafe Tortoni, one of the city’s most famous spots for coffee, tea, and relaxation and a magnet for tourists and locals strolling along the Avenida de Mayo strip. (Av. de Mayo 829.)

Plaza Del Congreso. At the very western edge of Monserrat, Avenida de Mayo terminates at the Plaza del Congreso, a long, grassy square that hosts a playground and a variety of monuments, pigeons, and tourists. At the heart of the Plaza is the Monumento a los dos Congresos, a large, statue-covered monument erected for the founding of the Republic of Argentina. Inspired by the Capitol Building in Washington, D.C. and completed in 1906 after eight years of construction, the classical Palacio del Congreso, which looms over the Plaza and sports an 85m green dome, is headquarters for Argentina’s legislative branch, the Congreso de la Nación Argentina. The bicameral body is divided into the 72-member Senate and the 257-seat Argentine Chamber of Deputies. For those interested in the workings of Argentine politics, guided English-language tours visit the building’s upper and lower chambers. (Hipólito Yrigoyen 1846. S Sáenz Peña. Tours M-Tu and Th-F 11am and 4pm. Free.)

Palacio Barolo. Halfway between the Casa Rosada and Congreso, this eclectic, 22-story office building is an homage to Dante’s Divine Comedy designed by Italian architect Mario Palanti. Textile magnate and Freemason Luis Barolo commissioned the building in 1918 to house the remains of Dante. With the carnage of WWI still raging, he hoped to transport the poet’s remains across the ocean for safe-keeping. And what better place than Buenos Aires? Unsurprisingly, the Italian government put a wrench in the works of that plan, but the building itself, the tallest in Latin America upon completion, renders quite adequate—and elaborate—homage to Dante’s epic masterpiece. Its height, in meters, corresponds to the number of verses in the poem, the rows of 11 windows allude to the 11 lines in each verse (there can also be 22 in some verses, which explains the number of stories). Ever wondered what Hell looks like? Stepping into the ground floor of the building gives you a glimpse of the burning abyss in a surprisingly white and cathedral-like approach, though there are D dragons grinning down from the sides and the floor tiles resemble flames. The nine domes represent the nine areas of Hell (they really took this whole Dantesque homage thing quite seriously) and the colors—red, white, and green—honor the Italian flag. It comes as no surprise that the offices in Heaven (floors 15-22, capped off with a shining lighthouse; God, anyone?) come with more prestige than those in Purgatory (floors 1-14), which have a decidedly blah view. Barolo himself had offices on the first two floors, connected by a secret elevator. The top provides great views of Congreso and the Av. de Mayo below. (Av. de Mayo 1370. S Saez Peña. ☎4383 1063; www.pbarolo.com.ar. Guided tours M and Th 2pm; includes a visit to the top of the building. AR$20.)