What should I avoid in Buenos Aires?

La Boca's Caminito strip is two blocks of painted tin houses, tango dancers posing for tips, and overpriced choripán. That part is fine for twenty minutes. Walk three blocks past the tourist boundary — past where the souvenir stalls end and the corrugated walls start showing rust — and you're in one of Buenos Aires's rougher neighborhoods. Police presence drops to zero. Locals will tell you this plainly. The same applies after dark; even the painted stretch empties out by 7pm and the lighting is poor. Take photos, buy a fridge magnet if you must, and leave. Across the Riachuelo river is Avellaneda, not a detour worth making on foot. If you want to see La Boca's real soul, catch a Boca Juniors match at La Bombonera instead — the stadium is a few blocks north and the atmosphere on match day is deafening, the concrete literally vibrating under your feet as fifty thousand people jump in unison.

Puerto Madero looks tempting. The old red-brick docks, the Puente de la Mujer at sunset, the wide waterfront promenade. Then you sit down at one of those restaurants with the white tablecloths facing the water and pay AR$45,000 for a bife de chorizo that's AR$18,000 at Don Julio in Palermo or AR$12,000 at El Desnivel in San Telmo. The steak is worse at Puerto Madero — mass-produced cuts, less care on the grill, and the waiters know you're not coming back. The whole strip is built for expense accounts and cruise passengers with four hours to kill. Walk the promenade for the view, yes. Eat somewhere else. San Telmo's parrillas have thick smoke rolling out the door, the fat sizzling and popping on open-flame grills you can watch from the sidewalk — that smell of charring beef fat and chimichurri is what Buenos Aires actually tastes like.

The mustard scam is still running. Someone squirts a yellow or brown substance on your jacket — mustard, ketchup, sometimes something worse — and an accomplice appears immediately, napkin in hand, offering to help clean you off. While you're distracted and your bag is open or set down, a third person lifts your wallet or phone. This happens on Avenida de Mayo, near the Obelisco, and along Florida Street. The fix is simple: if something lands on you, do not stop. Walk into the nearest shop, clean up inside, and check your pockets. The fake blue-dollar scam runs on Florida too — men murmuring "cambio, cambio" will offer rates 10-15% above the official rate, which sounds generous until they short-count the bills, palm a counterfeit 10,000-peso note into the stack, or simply vanish into a doorway. Use a cueva recommended by your hotel or check the rate on DolarHoy before exchanging anything.

Getting from Ezeiza to the city is where most first-timers lose money. The official taxi stand inside the terminal charges a fixed fare — currently around AR$45,000-55,000 to Palermo or Recoleta — but unlicensed drivers in the arrivals hall will quote lower, then run a rigged meter or take the long route through Constitución and Barracas, adding thirty minutes and doubling the cost. Book a remise through Tienda León or your hotel. The ride takes 40-50 minutes if traffic on the Autopista Riccheri cooperates, closer to 90 during Friday evening rush. Motochorros — thieves on motorcycles who grab phones from your hand at red lights — are a real thing in Constitución, Once, and parts of Flores. Keep your phone in your pocket at intersections. If you're walking and texting, do it with your back to a wall, not at the curb. This sounds paranoid until you watch it happen to someone else from a café window on Avenida Rivadavia.