It’s our final night in BA and luckily there’s enough time for one final steak!

It was worth posting this blog post just to write that title!

After a few days in Buenos Aires, we took the one hour ferry ride to Uruguay and spent a day wandering about the beautiful little town of Colonia – the oldest city in the country and a world heritage site. The historical area of the city was a wonderful place to spend the day, with its 17th century cobblestone streets shaded by huge sycamore trees, some great little places for lunch and coffee and a few tourist spots. It was also a place where the locals seemed to love cruising around in old cars, some classics, but mainly just battered old Fiats.

Once we’d done our tourist duty and spent a few (unusually large) Uruguayan Peso notes in the city, we caught a taxi out to a beautiful little posada in the countryside called La Casa de los Limoneros. Where we spent a couple of nights just doing not very much at all.

Refreshed and ready to hit the markets, we headed back to Buenos Aires – with the credit card ready to be hammered – for a weekend of shopping, sorting out our things before our return to chilly London… Oh and eating steak and drinking wine – mustn’t forget those important tasks.

We arrived from Rio at Foz do Iguaçu airport and immediately jumped into a taxi and headed for our last big location of our year off, the Iguazu Falls.

We walked the trail along the Brazilian side of the Iguazu River which takes you along progressively bigger and bigger falls, giving you a great overview of the location, until we finally got to see the spectacular Devil’s Throat – the biggest section of the falls at 82m high. Then we crossed the border into Argentina and the town of Puerto Iguazú. We found our hostel – the final cheap dump of our year – dropped our bags and spent as much of the evening out of the room as we could.

The next day we headed over to the Argentine side of the falls, which has much more intricate trails and platforms and allows you to really see many of the falls up close. The furthest point on the trails on the Argentine side is atop a platform at the very top of the Devil’s Throat. Standing at the edge of the platform and allowing the falls to completely fill your field of view is a simply awesome experience.

After ticking another wonderful thing off our world to-do list, we took our last overnight bus ride (only 19hrs!) to Buenos Aires.

To have a look at some BIG images from our time at the falls click here.

Things got a little more rustic there, with dirt roads and many buildings in need of work although there was a solitary ATM, ominously located right next to the tiny police station. We managed to find a room at a reasonably nice place in the higher part of town. No AC but there was a small pool which was refreshing, and became even more essential once we realised that the beach front wasn’t really all that great for swimming.

We found a tiny coffee shop which claimed to be ‘the best little coffee shop in the southern hemisphere’. We couldn’t resist such a claim and had to try it. It certainly wasn’t the best in the southern hemisphere (we’ve had better coffee in Australia) but it was definitely the best we’ve had outside Australia on our trip so far. Despite coffee being Colombia’s biggest (legal) export there’s a saddeningly huge amount of Nescafé around – and having ‘made in Colombia’ on the label didn’t make it any less disappointing each time we were given some with our breakfast.

Taganga had a very relaxed atmosphere and a nice little beach called Playa Grande in a bay just a 20 minute walk around the cliffside to the north. We also found some great seafood in one of the restaurants on the water front. It was a nice place to hang out for a couple of days before we returned to Santa Marta to stay for a while, sometimes catching the local bus south to El Rodadero for its better beach (although always returning for dinner at a restaurant which served steak that was almost as good as the steak we’d had in BA).

After a couple more days, it was time to leave the coast and travel to Colombia’s capital, Bogotá. We spent 3 days exploring the city – hampered by almost continuous rain – but managed to get quite a few touristy things ticked off the list. The changing of the guard at the Presidential Palace – including a marching band that for some reason played Paint it Black by the Rolling Stones – was an odd little experience to remember. Sadly the rain meant that we had to spend a lot of our time indoors having to sample the many great cake shops and cafés around La Candelaria, including one that served a very popular snack in Bogotá, cheese and bread with hot chocolate – the cheese was there to dip into the hot chocolate before you eat it (pretty awful). Bogotá was a damp but interesting city – certainly not the most beautiful we’ve been to, but has plenty of character if you’re prepared to look for it. We managed to find quite a few great little bars, restaurants and cafés, and the place certainly grew on us over the time we spent there, although it did have to try hard to stand out amidst our growing excitement for our next stop… Rio.

To get to Rio we had to fly through Buenos Aires for an overnight stay. We were lucky enough to have exit row seats and the flight was going perfectly. Then it took a turn for the worse when the head steward managed to drop a full pot of boiling hot coffee on the floor in front of me, scalding my ankles, soaking my shoes, socks and jeans and spraying Alexandra’s coat and the whole emergency exit area with some of Colombia’s finest instant.

After having to call them back with the call button 10 minutes later – because they immediately went to sit down as the seatbelt sign was on, and didn’t come back once it switched off – they apologised (somewhat sarcastically) and offered nothing to help the situation. I was offered another seat in economy once I pointed out that the floor beneath my feet was soaked, but I declined and requested a better, and not a worse seat than my current exit row one. There were none on the plane apparently – a claim which I found to be untrue when I took the short walk over to business class to find it half empty. Despite our suggestions that they should do something – anything in fact – to make our flight a little more comfortable, they responded by saying that it might happen on Qantas or BA, but on their airline it wasn’t their policy. My point that if the pot had fell to the left rather than the right, then there was the potential for a baby or young child to be burnt by the coffee fell on deaf ears. They did provide a little entertainment a short while after the incident though when they wheeled their trolley past us again and politely asked the question I knew they would… ‘Coffee sir?!’

‘No thanks, I’ve already had some’ I replied with a laugh.

Aerolineas Argentinas, the worst airline ever.

Looking at the positives though, at least there was enough time for my socks to completely dry and my shoes now had a lovely, truly Colombian aroma, which would serve to remind me of our trip for years to come (or until I throw them away, which will probably be very soon).

After a short overnight stop in BA where we took the chance to catch up with Hayley, the next morning we flew (unfortunately with Aerolineas Argentinas) to Rio de Janeiro!

We didn’t have anywhere to stay when we arrived, so we walked into town, looked at a few places and eventually decided upon Residencial Elena. It’s in a neocolonial building just a couple of blocks south of the plaza and is run by a really lovely Spanish family. Once we were settled in we headed up to the impressive Plaza 9 de Julio to locate the Museo de Arquelogía de Alta Montaña (MAAM) which houses the truly amazing mummified bodies of the Incan children found on Llullaillaco in 1999 (although only one is on display at any given time). Even though we had been told how incredible the mummies are (thanks Janna), nothing could have really prepared us for just how life-like they are. We also popped into the Catedral to try and take some photos, but it was filled with children, I’ve never actually seen a full church before, let alone a massive cathedral, it was quite an impressive sight! Back at the B&B that evening we met Laliv and Yossi in front of the fire who are travelling in the opposite direction to us. We ended up spending hours talking about travel, films and even a little bit of biology and ended up skipping dinner and going to bed late.

The next morning we met Laliv and Yossi for breakfast and spent another couple of hours chatting! Then we headed to the Museo de Arte Contemporáneo, but unfortunately it was closed for assembly of a new exhibition. That evening we went up to Pajcha – Museo de Arte Étnico Americano, a privately owned gallery north of the centre of town. We were greeted like long lost friends by the Deputy Director, Diego, who proceeded to give us a really fascinating guided tour. He is amazingly enthusiastic and very dramatic in his descriptions, especially when moving from one piece to the next… ‘Prepare your attention!! Especially you, Anthony!’ he would say as we moved from one to the other. ‘Alexandra! Try to see! Try to see the feather! Always the feather!’. At first we were trying to hide our mirth, but soon we realised that it made the whole experience so much more alive and interesting than usual. The gallery was founded by an anthropologist who has been collecting for practically her whole life and it really shows in the quality and quantity of the pieces. It is one of the best presented galleries that we’ve been to here which is pretty amazing considering it has no government funding. After our tour we sat in a café for an hour or so until it was a reasonable time to have dinner (9.45pm). We had steak and chips at La Leñita and ended up sitting next to the Puerto Rican basketball team! I really wish we had some photos, these guys were HUGE! Halfway through the meal one of the waiters grabbed a guitar and started singing folk songs to the guests, he was a great singer.

Friday we got up really late, did some yoga and exercises and went out for lunch. We were planning on booking a bus from Salta to Humuhuaca to see the quebrada, but we realised that we will see similar landscape once we cross over to Tupiza, so we booked a bus straight to La Quiaca which is on the Argentine side of the Bolivian border. We can’t book onwards from Villazón to Tupiza, so we’ll have to sort that out when we get there. Tickets safely in hand, we decided to take the teleférico (cable car… reassuringly made in Switzerland) up to the top of Cerra San Bernado to check out the view of Salta from on high. Luckily we chose a good day to go, it was pretty spectacular.

Today has been pretty uneventful, we have already seen most of what we wanted to in Salta, so we had a late breakfast and wandered back up to the Museo de Arte Contemporáneo, which has reopened. It’s a pretty small gallery, but has some interesting local art. Then we walked around the sunlit and pleasantly warm streets taking some photos and discovering little markets by plazas. This afternoon we sat in the Plaza 9 de Julio and watched what we think was some kind of pre celebration for tomorrow’s Dia del Niño. There was also a band playing and some strange races where waiters ran around the park carrying a tray with a bottle of beer half poured into a glass. We were pretty impressed that none of them actually let the bottle topple! We have a couple of hours left before we get on the bus at 12.45am!

The fact that it was where Argentina’s independance was declared not only makes it a very important city in Argentina, but also determined much of the sightseeing we’d do during our time there. The most signifigant being the Casa de la Independencia and the cathedral. We also noted during our first stroll through the city that the siesta here was more obvious than any of the other cities we’d visited previously. All of the shops closed and the streets were deserted for a few hours. But considering that the suburbs are only 8 blocks away from the city’s main square – yet another Plaza Independencia – everyone must’ve gone home to sleep.

Randomly it seems to be a city of fitness freaks. We saw even more gyms, yoga, pilates and dance studios than we did in Buenos Aires. On our first afternoon we passed what looked like a standard South American old and slightly tired café – populated mainly with unhealthy men in their 60s smoking and drinking coffee. The big difference between this and most other cafés was that the back wall was made of glass and behind it was a huge gym full of far healthier people working out. The contrast was very strange.

After Córdoba, Tucumán wasn’t quite as attractive – even though there were pretty orange trees everywhere. So a day and a half was about enough for us and we were looking forward to getting back into the countryside for a week-or-so.

I was supposed to be writing the next blog post a week from now about our journey through Tucumán and then through a few of the towns in the hills to the west. We were supposed to leave Tucumán for Tafí del Valle today to then head on to Cafayate, to drink some more wine (Torrontés this time), to visit the Quilmes ruins, and to spend some time trekking in the hills, quad biking and driving around the Quebrada.

That was the plan, but this morning we arrived at Tucumán bus station to be told that the road to Tafí del Valle and onward to Cafayate wasn’t passable because of ice on the road. After a couple of days in Tucumán we didn’t want to stay any longer. We decided to accept that were going to have to miss almost a weeks worth of plans in northern Argentina and that we’d be arriving in Bolivia a little earlier than we thought. Not too much of a problem, as we’ve heard so many great things about it. Within a couple of minutes, we had the guide book out, checked the map, decided that the next stop would now be Salta and bought our tickets. We found the bus and a few minutes later we were on our way.

So, a short post and not so many pictures this time. It’s amazing how quickly plans can change.

The next day we took in some of the sights. Again we were a little thwarted by closings during the middle of the day (namely the supposedly great English tour of the university which we tried to visit three times, on the final time it was open, but they weren’t running the last tour of the day, the one we had arrived for), but we managed to see the Cordóba Cabildo and the very sobering Museo de la Memoria. We certainly didn’t know much of the history of Argentina when we arrived, but found out shortly after arriving in Buenos Aires that during the late 70s and early 80s the government ‘disappeared’ a startling number of people who didn’t support it. Many of the people who were taken were frighteningly young.

In the afternoon we walked to Parque Sarmiento which was a dusty disappointment and Museo Provincial de Bellas Artes Emilio Caraffa which had some pretty uninspiring exhibitions showcased in one of the most interesting art spaces I’ve seen. We spent hours trying to find somewhere for dinner as most of the places listed in the Lonely Planet were either closed or simply don’t exist anymore.

On Wednesday we decided to get out of the city and explore some of the Jesuit estancias that are in the surrounding countryside. We took a bus to Jésus Maria and jumped out, eager to see what the town had to offer. For about an hour we felt as though we were in some kind of comedy game being played by the citizens of the town as we were sent from one end of town to the next and back again in search of the mysterious tourist information office. We never found it, but did manage to find our way to the Estancia Jésus Maria. It was a pretty impressive building and we learned a bit about the Jesuits in the area.

We had read that the most impressive of all the Jesuit estancias is Estancia Santa Catalina 20km outside Jésus Maria and that it’s pretty cheap and easy to get to in a taxi. Not so. Well, it is beautiful, but certainly not easy to get to. We jumped in a cab at the station and I was encouraged by the fact that the nice lady taxi driver called me ‘dear’. Then she said something about ‘el camino’ and ‘muy feo’. Ok, so at this stage we thought she was talking about some kind of tourist ‘way’ that people drive to look at all the estancias and that for some reason she thought Santa Catalina was ugly…. It was only once we got onto the terrible dirt road leading to the estancia that we realised she meant the road out there was ugly! But we arrived safe and sound, if a little shaken, and handed over the AR$57 plus 10% tip. The doors were locked and she wouldn’t let us out! Turns out she wanted AR$100 because the road was bad. I managed to stumble through the words to explain that we wouldn’t have enough money to get back if we gave her that, and eventually she relented.

After that ordeal we were keen to have some lunch and then look around. We were pretty nervous about being able to get back as this is literally a dirt road with a couple of shops and a church. But we figured worst case scenario we’d start to walk and hitch if we could. As we were wandering around looking lost a friendly gentleman herded us into a beautiful garden surrounded by old buildings. We asked if we could have something to eat and were taken into a pretty little restaurant and told that they had pasta. Fortunately Anthony had the foresight to ask how much it was… AR$50 for a plate of pasta!!!! Usually somewhere nice it MIGHT be AR$30. So we told him we could only afford one portion! He was a little frosty after that, so we ate and ran. We joined the Spanish speaking (and only) tour of the estancia and managed to understand bits and pieces. I spent most of the time chatting to a nice girl from Buenos Aires and was secretly hoping that she and her family might be able to give us a lift back to Jésus Maria at the end! Unfortunately they had a full car. Our faith was restored at the end of the day by the guide, his friend and a lady who ran a sort of general store who really went out of their way to get us a lift back to town and wouldn’t accept any payment for making the calls for us. Needless to say, we were pretty glad to make it back to Córdoba that night.

On Thursday we checked out of the hostel and leaving our big packs behind headed for La Cumbrecita for a bit of trekking and riding. We had to change buses in a place called Villa General Belgrano. We knew that it  was a town founded by Germans, but nothing could really have prepared us for it. It’s like a permanent Weihnachtsmarkt. There are even loudspeakers in the street playing oom-pa-pa music and the main street is lined with shops with Germanic names selling steins, bretzels and tablecloths covered with edelweiss. We stopped for some food and then jumped on the bus to La Cumbrecita. It turns out that La Cumbrecita was founded by Germans, Austrians and Swiss, so it was sort of similar to Belgrano. Pretty much the only meal to be found was Goulasch con Spätzle, followed by Apfelstrudel. Fortunately it was pretty tasty. We spent the afternoon wandering around, booked a horse ride for the following morning and had dinner and a relatively early night.

On Friday morning we had a pretty amusing, yet uneventful horse ride outisde the town. The scenery was beautiful and the horses were great. Our guide didn’t speak a word of English, so we didn’t really mange to learn to much either about the area, or how to ride a horse, but it was fun nevertheless! We had noticed on the map that there was a 2hr hike to a peak called Cerra Wank… how could we possibly resist! Apparently you’re only supposed to go with a guide, but we were already running a bit late, so we went on our own. Got a bit lost, but eventually reached the peak at 1715m and were pleasantly surprised that there was noone else around. Tea and cake at a German bakery at the end of the mini hike made it all worthwhile! Had more Goulash con Spätzle and went to bed.

The next morning we checked out and took a final walk out to the waterfall. We stopped at yet another little German bakery on the way and ended up chatting to the lovely, if somewhat crazy guy who runs the place. He was obsessed with Carlos Núñez, and insisted on playing us his music while looking at what seemed to be his personal album of photos taken around La Cumbrecita. It was pretty funny. Jumped on a bus back to Belgrano to take some snaps and eat more German food and then back to Córdoba.

On Sunday morning we checked out of the hostel again and made our way to the university for the 4th time to see if we could do the guided tour of the university. We were a bit early and it was closed again, so we had some breakfast and made it back just in time for the tour at 11am, only to be told that it was in Spanish. Luckily they told us the 5pm tour was in English, so we headed to the cinema to see the newly released ‘El Origen’ I don’t mind telling you that that’s the Spanish title for ‘Inception’. After the film we headed to the university for our tour. It was surprisingly pretty interesting, Universidad Nacional de Córdoba is either the 3rd or 4th oldest in America, depending on who you speak to and was founded by the Jesuits. It has some incredible old books including a version or the Bible in 7 languages from the 17th Century. After the tour we headed to the weekend antique markets to have a look around, then a bit more evening sightseeing before heading back to the hostel to wait until it was time to catch the bus to Tucumán.

We arrived not so fresh at 8.30am on Wed and jumped in a taxi to our B&B. Unable to check in for a couple of hours we stepped out to check out the area and see if we could find a wine bar. Unfortunately the town was still pretty sleepy, so we had a coffee and some medialunas and looked around for a wine tour for the next day. Later that day we found a great place and booked on a bit of a posh tour, and as a bonus they gave us a voucher for a free glass of wine! Happy at last, we made our way to The Vines of Mendoza and ate cheese, drank wine and chatted to the staff who were all too happy to begin our vino education.

We dragged ourselves out of bed the following morning, ready to be picked up at 9am to start ‘tasting’. Already in the bus when we arrived were Bill and Mark from DC. Lovely guys who had already done a tour with the same company only two days before, a good sign! Mark is a Spanish teacher so it was pretty interesting having him around. Soon after, we picked up Walter, a Brasilian guy who was VERY into his wines. Needless to say, we felt a little like children amongst the grown ups! However, I was to discover towards the end of the day that Bill and Mark didn’t take it too seriously, when I commented that one of the reds smelled like washing up liquid and they chuckled along with me!

We visited some truly beautiful wineries and tasted some sensational wines, surprisingly alongside the Malbecs and red blends, there were a couple of good whites too! We also learned a lot about the region and wines in general. For lunch we were at a place called Ruca Malen where we ate five courses with 6 ‘paired’ wines. Delicious food, great wine and a view of the Andes to boot, we were very happy! Throughout the day we saw and tasted wines that are produced in the old wooden containers (Mendel) or concrete vats (Alta Vista) and those that are produced in the new steel ones (Sottano). We found out that the ‘reserva’ wines from the region have been stored in new French (and some 20% American) oak barrels for at least 12 months. Not such a fascinating statistic until you realise that the best of the best oak barrels from France cost 1200 euros a piece and are often only used once for the gran reserva wines!!!! We also got to see some wines being bottled at Sottano, a pretty interesting process to see. Fortunately we were dropped at our door at the end of the day and managed to sober up a little before heading out for empanadas for dinner!

Didn’t do a lot on Friday, slept in, tried to do some sight seeing and book bus tickets, but we seemed to be thwarted at every turn by the incredibly long siesta that seems to run from midday until 4pm! So we mainly hung out in cafés and had our own long siesta in the afternoon! We did find a great place for dinner, but freaked the staff out by walking in at 8pm, I don’t think they were expecting anyone until at least 10!

On Saturday we braved the local buses to get to Maipú to hire bikes for a day of cycling around vineyards. There were a couple of Scandinavians trying to get on the bus in front of us, but they hadn’t bought the ‘Red Bus’ card that you need to pay. As we were all tourists, the driver seemed to think it only fair that Anthony and I pay for them using our card! Given that it was all of about 2p we decided to be charitable. It was nice to have some company on the way to the bike shop and at least there were four of us looking like idiots as we jumped up and peered out the window every time we saw a sign! We got the bikes from Mr Hugo, who rather surprisingly for someone who runs a roaring tourist operation, speaks practically no English, and were on our way. We visited La Rural/Rutini, Trapiche (where we had a great tour… in Spanish), Familia Di Tomasso and a great place that makes chocolate, dulce de leche, olive oil and spirits! Rather bravely Anthony tasted the 75% Absinthe (only legal in Argentina and Czech Republic) first. I decided to pass when I saw the look of pain on his face and the girl doing the tour told me she blistered her mouth when she had it! The dulce de leche was great though! On arrival back at Mr Hugos, we were greeted with another glass of red wine, it was almost getting too much, but only almost…. when we returned to Mendoza we went back to The Vines for some half price happy hour fun.

Sunday we were up early to check out and to try the gallery we’d been wanting to visit, it was closed again! So we spent most of the day wandering around the beautiful park and drinking coffee in cafes. After another meal that we turned up for so early we think we were actually eating with the staff before their shift, we headed for the bus station for our overnight bus to Córdoba.

It’s been a long time since our last post, and we had a bit of time in Australia before we left to begin the last section of our journey in South America, so I’ll start back then. Here goes… this is going to be a long post!

After our wedding we had a wonderful couple of weeks up in Cairns, where it was a comfortable winter temperature of 28°C. We had enough time to relax after the wedding, to enjoy some post-wedding quiet time with family, and to start to think about a rough plan for South America. At the beginning of June we said goodbye to Cairns and returned to Sydney to catch up with friends for a few days. The World Cup had begun and the forced football fever had temporarily gripped a large enough portion of the nation to warrant a big screen in Darling Harbour and football-themed ads on television. It wasn’t the best place in the world to be, with the tournament taking place in South Africa, and after finding myself as the only person willing to get up at 3am to watch England play the USA, the following night it was a little easier to stay awake. It was the night that the ‘Socceroos’ (an unfortunate nickname) would be playing their opening match against the Germans at 3.30am. After spending the evening out with friends, Janna (an Australian/German friend, and a big F1 fan) and I decided to pop to a bottle shop on the way back to her place in Bondi to buy our fuel for a night/morning of sport – lots of Doritos, a decent sized bottle of vodka and plenty of Red Bull. Alexandra promptly crashed out on the sofa after a single sip of the drink, leaving Janna and I to finish off the rest while watching the Canadian Grand Prix. At 3am, after the race (which Hamilton won, the only English success of this post) we woke Alexandra and all stumbled, red-eyed and weary, to the local pub to watch the football. After the Aussies were comprehensively handed their coats by the Germans, we were surprised to run into some people from Framestore – small world and all that – and at 7am despite us feeling like zombies we went with them for breakfast to have a chat and a catch-up. Afterwards, Alexandra and I decided to try and get a few hours sleep.

After a great few days in Sydney with good food, drink and friends, we didn’t want to put our backpacks on again, knowing that it’d mean the last chapter of our trip was beginning. Despite our reluctance we caught our flight to Buenos Aires excited at all the things we’d be doing there. With a 13 hour flight, and with an awkward time difference from Sydney, we knew we’d be tired when we arrived, but a lucky upgrade to premium economy certainly helped soften the blow. Considering our exhilarating but exhausting time in India, our intention in South America is to spend longer in quite a few places over the few months we’ve got here. BA was one of those places and we were looking to spend at least 4 weeks there to really get to know the place.

We arrived and it was a pretty easy transfer to our first of four different accommodations in BA, a backpackers hostel right in the centre of town. It was immediately obvious that this country was obsessed with football (not that I didn’t know it already), and the hostel was a great place to be for the first of Argentina’s World Cup games. We slept in a little late that morning but were woken by a  massive cheer as Argentina scored their first goal against the Koreans. We quickly got up and watched the rest of the game in the huge tv room which was packed with enthusiastic Argentines. It was great fun to be there with them all. During the tournament I also noticed an awful lot of teenagers playing Shakira’s World Cup song out loud from their phones while walking down the street, something that probably wouldn’t happen in London, not with Shakira anyway.

We stayed for a couple of nights and used the time to hunt down a homely B&B that we could spend a month at. We decided to stay in San Telmo – an area with loads of character, interesting architecture and some great restaurants and bars – and the day we spent walking around the area looking for a place to stay certainly helped us get familiar with it. It was a chilly 10°C or so and combined with the look and feel of the city, made us feel like we were somewhere in Spain, and certainly not as far away from London as we were.

We found a place we liked, negociated a good deal, paid for the first week and moved in. Still feeling jet-lagged, we tried to get an early night. We soon realised that our room was situated right above a night club which played a continuous stream of house music at exactly the same beat from 9pm to about 6am. The whole room vibrated at that beat throughout the night, as did my head, and the next morning we promptly got a refund, arranged a room at our second-choice B&B, and moved out to accommodation number three. It was a little more expensive, but was well worth the extra cash. Finally settled, we felt we could start to get to know BA properly.

We had four weeks of Spanish lessons booked to begin the following week, and we had a weekend to do some touristy things before they began. We soon found that most of the places we wanted to visit were reachable on foot and the streets were amazingly quiet for such a big city. We managed to see quite a lot in those few days including Cementerio de la Recoleta, the Floris Genérica, Casa Rosada and the Museo de la Ciudad. Interspersed with all of these things we started to introduce ourselves to the amazing food and wine that BA had to offer, and there was plenty of it. One morning while walking the quiet streets around the Cathedral, we even heard La Cumparsita – the most famous of all tango melodies – being played from the bells of the Cathedral.

Our first day at Spanish school started the following week and we were happy that the walk we’d be doing every morning was quick and easy without much traffic to get in the way. The first lesson went well and I soon realised that this was a pretty fast-paced course. Lots of the things I’d learnt from a short course at school (13 years ago now, which scares me) came back to me and it all seemed pretty good. Except one thing, homework. It really was like being back at school.

The room at our B&B was set away from the street and on Tuesday morning we opened the front door to head out to our lesson and were shocked to step into the polluted chaos of buses, cars, motorbikes and people. We later found out that the day before was a public holiday and most people had headed to the country for the long weekend. The true face of San Telmo had revealed itself, and there we were, for a few days at least thinking that it was the nice quiet part of the city. Being a Londoner, it didn’t take long to get used to the people and noise, but the pollution from some of the old trucks and buses was pretty hard to bear sometimes. BA is a city with some seriously old vehicles on the streets. I thought I’d seen my last Ford Sierra about 10 years ago, but here they were, battered and bruised but still running, and looking decidedly modern next to some of the 45-or-so year old Ford trucks that were all over the city.

The next week or so didn’t turn out as planned for us. It has to be said that BA is a city for getting up late, eating late and staying out very very late, and we were failing in our self-set task to get to know the city more like a local would. Getting up early, going to study Spanish for 2 hours and then having homework to do, all coupled with the fact that we were still a little jet-lagged, meant that we were struggling to sync our body clocks… not to GMT-4, but to BA time, which is something entirely different. Luckily for me though, most of the World Cup matches were on either in the morning or early afternoon, so that worked out pretty well! We did manage to get to a great evening Tango show and found a San Telmo steak house that served what is still the best steak I’ve ever eaten. It was so good that we ended up going to that restaurant five times while we were there! We also visited a few great bars, but were still struggling to match the Port eños‘ stamina for going out and staying out.

We were getting to know BA by day though, and it definitely felt like we were beginning to settle in to the city after the short time we’d been there. We even started doing less touristy things like going for a few jogs around Puerto Madero and even went to the cinema (where I found out that Eclipse is a pretty shit film).

After two weeks of two hours per day of Spanish, we were booked in for four hours per day for the final two weeks. There were times during the first couple of weeks that I felt like my head just couldn’t take in any more information, and it was going to get even more intense. Maybe, just maybe, increasing the intake of vino tinto (I had remembered the most important words) each night would help me cope. Or maybe not, it was worth a shot though. A night at our favourite restaurant (La Gran Parilla del Plata, on the corner of Chile and Peru) where we managed to wait until 10pm before turning up, highlighted just how late the people in BA eat. We managed to finish our meal at 1am, and even as we were finishing, a couple of guys walked in for dinner. It was an extreme case, but as we clearly still needed to get into the BA groove, we moved the rest of our Spanish lessons into the afternoon to help us adjust.

During that week we headed to a nice little San Telmo café for lunch, a place with a menu written in Spanish. We had the dictionary out and were clearly far too obvious about it because we were approached by an Australian girl who introduced herself as Hayley and kindly offered to help us with the menu. Well, she helped by translating one word for us before pointing at my menu and saying ‘You should just try that!’ So we did. We got chatting while waiting for the food and agreed to get in contact again soon. Hayley left, and the food arrived. It was an excellent recommendation. A huge wooden platter of cold cuts, cheeses and pickles with a bowl of chunky bread. We wondered what other great recommendations Hayley might have for us and we decided to make sure we got back in contact soon.

The next day it was time for England to play Germany. We headed to Gibraltar – an oasis in the desert for British ex-pats and tourists who need their fix of beer battered fish ‘n’ chips served by a fat bloke who speaks English with a northern accent and tells terrible jokes. My day was ruined by the Germans, but at 4-1 neither me, nor the fat barman could argue with the result. It was not the last time the pesky German youngsters would try to ruin my day.

Later we headed to another nice little San Telmo café. The plan was to have a quick lunch and then to find another pub where we could watch Argentina play Mexico in their first knockout game. The café had one tiny tv showing the build-up to the game and while we were eating our lunch the place steadily filled up with all kinds of people, from children to a small group of grannies. The one similarity between them all? Celeste y blanco… light blue and white. They were clearly all there for the game, and the atmosphere was great. We decided to keep our seats, order another couple of coffees and stay. The streets outside were deserted for 45 mins, while inside the café the passion of the people was on full display, with huge cheers of ‘¡Vamos!’ and the grannies with flags wrapped around their heads banging the coffee tables with their fists when the Argentines scored. For 15 minutes the streets returned to normal (other than the beeping horns of cars and cheering from the locals – and it was only half time), and then it was back to the game.

I was hoping that it’d take my mind off of England’s terrible performance, and it certainly did. In the end Argentina won, and in that little café, it was very obvious that they had. Germany were next, and the people were confident.

After a few days during which we managed to surprise ourselves by taking to the extended Spanish lessons fairly well, we also visited a couple of excellent restaruants. Café San Juan was absolute proof that steak isn’t all that BA has to offer, as we had some fantastic pork with shallots wrapped in grilled prosciutto.Then the following evening La Vineria de Gualterio Bolivar provided us with a 16 course experimental degustation menu that included things like a shot glass of roast cauliflour gravy, and a chocolate cloud (chocolate sauce, foamed up and quickly frozen in liquid nitrogen before being served).

Then came Argentina v Germany, it was a big big game, so we headed to Plaza San Martin (a big park) to watch it on a big screen with a big crowd. Unfortunately the only big thing at the end of the game was the Germans’ score. But despite the defeat, the Argentines didn’t seem defeated. Maybe it was the scoreline that made them seem to give a collective shrug of the shoulders and display an ‘Oh well, maybe next time’ attitude. I was ready to be disappointed with them (my nationality prepares me for sporting disappointments) but by the end of the match, I think I ended up being more disappointed than they were. The World Cup party was over in BA, but it was still a great party to have been at.

The day after we had a great Sunday afternoon wandering around and taking photos at the markets on Defensa – a long cobbled street that runs through the length of San Telmo and beyond. Our pub lunch was disturbed when I had to run outside to take some photos of a guy singing and playing a wobbling piano on wheels as it was pushed along the cobblestones by two of his friends, who also doubled as his backing singers.

After getting back in contact with Hayley the week after our first meeting, we ended up going out with her a couple more times over the next week, and were introduced to a few friends, Sam, Ben Lauren and Mike. After an evening in a bar in Palermo – one of the more up-market areas of BA – we had an ‘interesting’ night at a club where a British DJ attempted to convincingly mix mid 90s UK Garage with West Coast Hip Hop. He failed miserably, and needless to say, we left pretty soon after we arrived. Earlier that evening Hayley kindly invited us to stay with her in her new apartment as she had a spare room, and after a little rearranging of dates with our B&B a few days later we happily accepted.

Since they kept annoying me with their excellent football, that week I was happy to see the Germans knocked out by Spain (apologies to Christian and Janna!), and it seemed there were plenty of Argentines who shared my feelings on the matter.

The following Saturday morning we moved into Hayley’s beautiful San Telmo apartment (which simply meant repacking our stuff and walking a few blocks) and we all immediately headed over to the weekend farmers’ market to stock up for the week. We returned to the apartment with bags of great fresh food, looking forward to all of the things we could make now that we had a whole kitchen to use! We spent that afternoon walking around La Boca and watching a little more tango. Then on Sunday we all went to watch Spain beat The Netherlands to win the World Cup.

Being at Hayley’s place for the last week-and-a-half of our time in BA totally changed how we spent that time. She had so many ideas, plans and recommendations that put our guide book to shame. On one of the days not only did we pack our Spanish books before leaving for our lesson, we also packed some steel mixing bowls and a couple of steel ladels. Hayley was going to a gay rights protest later that day as the Senate were due to vote on legalising gay marriage the following evening, and she invited us along. The protest was a response to a large event outside the Palacio del Congresso where people protested against the law being passed, and the small gathering of a few hundred people at Obelisco with their pots, pans and voices (and a few resurrected light blue and white vuvuzelas) was enough to make a lot of noise and even got a mention on the BBC News website. It was a precursor to a much larger gay rights event at the Palacio del Congresso the following day. We went along with Sam, Ben and Hayley and made plenty of noise, and also went to the larger event which had a huge attendance, a great atmosphere and live music. The morning after, we heard that the vote was passed in the early hours after about 14 hours of debating on the issue. It was a great result and we were so happy to have played our small part in the protests.

Our Spanish lesons came to a close at the end of that week and our very basic understanding of the language probably contributed to us feeling like we’d finally ended up getting into the way of life of BA. We weren’t so much living the life of the Porteños, as living the life of the Porteños whilst on holiday. (Hayley was also on a holiday from work, which made that easier.) After a week of nights out, an excellent party at Ben’s apartment was absolute proof that drinking wine, Fernet and vodka until 6am and feeling like it’s only about 1am was now actually pretty easy for us! We softened the blow of the hangovers with yet more wine and some great steak during a visit to La Cabrera with Ben and Hayley the following evening.

After a rainy Sunday kept us indoors for most of the day (recovery time), Hayley made sure we had stuff to do on our last full day in BA by taking us around Abasto and for a huge lunch of high tea at Las Violetas – a totally unnessary purchase after having had a pizza an hour earlier, but great all the same. We then all went to La Bomba de Tiempo for a great purcussion show, and had farewell drinks with Sam, Lauren, Ben and Hayley at Territorio – the same place we first met Hayley at only a few weeks before.

The next evening we left BA on a first class 13 hour overnight bus to Mendoza – flat bed, movies, a meal with wine and even bingo on board! – to try and learn about the amazing wine we’d become so accustomed to drinking over the past few weeks, and to get our first glimpse of the Andes. BA is one of the most fun, vibrant and interesting cities we’ve ever visited and we had no regrets about spending 5 weeks there. In fact we decided to change our itinerary to return to London from BA instead of Lima, so it wasn’t a final goodbye to BA and our friends. We’ll be back there in late October for some more fun, food and Fernet!

Huge thanks to Sam and Lauren for the laughs, Ben and Mike for an amazing party, and especially to Hayley for making our time in BA so much better than it could’ve been!

Here are some pictures from our time in BA.