THE BEEF ON ARGENTINA

---

On this blog I shall focus pretty much solely on my Argentina leg of the trip but before I do, I should do my usual thing of painting a picture of where I currently am, so you can see me in your mind's eye, like a scruffy, travelling, less horse like male version of Carrie Bradshaw beavering away on his latest literary effort. So, I am in a city in Peru called Cusco pretty much killing time until I start the Inca Trail on Friday. Cusco is very beautiful, dusty, sub colonial entity in Peru, which unfortunately is a bit of a tourist trap. I was happily reading my book and I was inundated with a ticker tape parade of people offering to shine my shoes, sell me nuts, do my portrait and just generally try and get money off me. Don't get me wrong, everyone needs to make a living but clearly with my scruffy grey jeans and T-shirt, I may have had "Gringo Cash Machine" tattooed on my forehead. But for the most part, it's a pretty city with enough to sustain my attention until I bugger off onto the Inca trail. And last night I did have the pleasure of having drinks with a beautiful Peruvian girl and discovering a pub in the city that has a Preston North End scarf on the wall. Anyway, onto the meat of the blog - Argentina.

Lou and I crossed over the border, my first border crossing in South America, leaving the brilliance of Brazil behind and onward to start our Argentinian adventure. After numerous buses and checkpoints which felt a little bit like over egging the cake in terms of how many exit stamps do you actually need, we found ourselves in Puerto Iguacu, a tiny town whose sole function is to facilitate the hordes who venture off into the Argentinian side of the Iguacu Falls. Giving the Lonely Planet one last chance, we decided to plump for it´s "Our Pick" hostel - a place called Peter Pan Hostel. Naturally you would expect a hostel with such a name to have at least one member of staff to speak English. Nope. But that didn't matter, it was a Lonely Planet "Our Pick" it must be good. After one night of surly staff, bad internet connection, freezing dorm and probably the worst breakfast Lou and I had consumed, we rushed off to Igaucu Falls and I have made a pact with myself to never trust the Lonely Planet again. The Argentinian side of the falls is an interesting beast - a lot busier, a lot more to see but for me, it lacked the intimacy of the Brazilian side. However Lou and I, skint as we were, bit the bullet and went on a speed boat ride which took us right up close to the falls, taking the most powerful shower you are ever likely to have. Sopping wet, hoarse from shouting and slightly shaky from the might of Igaucu we left the park, got a bus, and started what would be a 33 hour journey to Salta.

We loved Salta, it was a pretty city, felt like it had a true Argentinian border town spirit with it's restaurants playing local folk music and men with weathered faces wearing cowboy hats. But best of all our hostel served Kellogs Cornflakes for breakfast, an utter coup in my mind and for the first time in while I was in breakfast heaven! After a day of sorting things out we decided to book a trip to the Quebrada de Humueca, a strip of road that twists and turns from Salta right up to near the Bolivian border. The view that Lou and I got was not what we were expecting but it exceeded anything we could have forseen or predicted. It's sometimes hard to put into words how these places make you feel, after all it's just rock, just nature, that's all. But this was the most beautifully constructed desertscape that I had ever seen. How do these things exist? How have rock and the elements combined to create something so beautiful? I know I am descending into hippy dippy, tree hugging territory but I don't know, seeing this huge jagged land masses, all different colours like they have come straight from a painters pallette, it really does get to you. Our road trip continued and we stopped off in some wild west frontier towns and basked in the sun, brought a few things from the local market and ate, possibly, the best empenadas (sp?) of the trip.

The next day we had quite a chilled time of it but in the evening we decided we would check out some Pena (Argentinian folk music) at a local restuarant that was recommended to us. Stupidly we polished off two bottles of red before we even left the hotel and then had another one during dinner. To be honest, I couldn't tell you what the folk music was like, but the parrilla - a mixed grill of various animals, cooked to perfection was pretty fucking marvellous. Lou, drunk and with an impetitious rush of blood to the head, decided to sign up for horse riding with a random man that she met in the bar. I tried to explain to that maybe she would be a tad hungover the next day but she was so excited by the prospect of horse riding that she skipped back to the hostel. Lou didn't go horse riding the next day, we both laid on the hostel couch rueing the affects of red wine.

Next Mendoza and again, naughtily, we decided to do an activity sponsored by MasterCard and indulged in a very expensive but brilliant wine tour in Mendoza. For those of you who know your wine, or if you don't, let me enlighten you. Mendoza is the centre of wine production in Argentina and produces about 85% of the country's wines including Malbec, which happens to be one of my favourite wines. It's a full bodied smooth little creature, blood red in colour, not at all harsh on your throat and very delicious. Lou and I were treated to 4 vineyards, from the family owned small operations, to the massive corporate beasts which churn out millions of tuns of wine ever second. I felt a massive pang of jealous for these vineyard owners as, in my mind, I think producing your wine must be one of the best jobs in the world. In fact, the thought of going into some element of the wine business is something that has really, really interested me for the past few months. Maybe this is a mere pipe dream but is something that I will allow to marinate in my mind for the next few months. However, apart from the wine tour, Mendoza didn't offer too much for us - it was so cold tour outfits wouldn't take you trekking unless you had the proper kit (and they didn't hire), the water was too cold for white water rafting so we read, watched Inception at the cinema and counted down till we go to Buenos Aires.

Now, I think it's going to take a very special city to top London, for me it's always has been the greatest city and holds a unique place in my heart but Buenos Aires came damn close. The nightlife is incredible and Lou and I found ourselves having to adjust our body clocks for getting up at 10am and getting to bed around 4am. We checked into our hostel, Milhouse Avenue which is kind of renowned as a party hostel and after a day of sorting things, we spent the evening at the hostel's party and then went off to club on the outskirts of the city called Crobar. Now the clubs aren't really that much cop, they do feel a bit like you've stepped into a English club circa 1998 and the music reflects that. But you just can't deny the energy and fun of Buenos Aires nightlife and so all you can do is put any cynical feelings aside about the fact they are playing "Alice DJ - Better Off Alone" and just get into the atmosphere.

The next day we met up with a couple of Argentinians who we met in Salta, a beautiful couple called Pitu and Agus who took us for a walk and drink around an area called El Tigre. After this they invited us to the family barbeque who treated us to some of the best steak that I have ever had the pleasure of tasting in my short existance on this planet. We were so taken aback by this Argentinian hospitality - they let these two Brits infiltrate their family barbeque, they spoke perfect English to us so not to make us feel arkward (probably for the best given Lou and I's terrible broken Spanish) and just generally treated us like kings. After the BBQ finished at twelve we went to a club with Agus and Pitu and their friends but called it a day around 4, it's hard to dance with half a cow in your belly.

I feel I would be here all day if I recounted chapter and verse what we got up to in Buenos Aires but in bullet point form:

- Went to a soccer match which at points had me fearing for my life but also experience the true passion of Argentian football. Thank God our team won!

- Went to a drum show, ate hash cakes and I got so drunk that I couldn't speak English, only slur and dribble. Horrendous.

- Went for the MOST delicious steak meal at a place called La Cabraba - if you are ever in the BA vicinity go!

- Saw Eva Peron's grave (disappointing), ate Freddo's ice cream (sickly but good) and went for a Tango lesson (Amazing, and Lou and I are naturals I think!) and obviously, we went to watch a touristy Tango show too.

And a few other things that escape my memory. I also found time to get a haircut, go to the gym, ride the subway - little slices of normailty that you miss when you are travelling and what I was definitely craving. Buenos Aires was the perfect city to round off, not only my Argentinian adventure but also my time with Lou who left to back to England on the Sunday. It will be weird without her, we spent 24/7 together for nearly 2 months and now, my final 3 weeks of traveling, I will be flying solo - a prospect which is both exciting, if a little scary too. I have my Inca Trail on Friday so I look forward to updating you all on what will be, I am sure, the icing on top of my travelling cake.

---