My morning walk over to San Nicolás, the elegant mostly residential district that lies behind the Teatro Colón and the other side of the vast Avenida 9th de Julio has become somewhat of a kick-off place for the many, almost daily manifestationes here in BA. As I confidently strode down Callao (pronounced here Ca-zhow) I walked straight into a broody boisterous crowd spilling out of the Subte onto the narrow footpath and haemorrhaging into the busy crossing. Perhaps not the right time to hang around but I couldn’t resist snapping this image a few metres on – the bored TV crew waiting for action, the brow-beaten shoeshine guy polishing away oblivious to what’s behind him out of frame, the businessman making the most of a quick polish to make a call and the toddler in the stroller judiciously checking out the flyers on the lamp post – that’s the businessman’s kid I suppose – and is he interested in football tournaments or professional nursing? Anyway, shortly after this was taken the cops arrived, the crowd became a tad agitated, the banners unfurled and the firecrackers and smoke bombs went off. I headed off.