Alright... Too much time has passed since my last blog post and s*** has hit the fan time and again, so here we go with all the updates!

We arrived in Mendoza on the bus from Tucuman where we were forced to stay against our will for an evening. We had initially wanted to get the bus from Cafayate to Tucuman and then immediately catch an overnight bus to Mendoza from there the same evening as our arrival but all the buses leaving Cafayate arrived too late in Tucuman that Sunday evening. We were also supposed to leave Cafayate on Saturday rather than Sunday, but that creepy night with those creepy people in Cafayate left us way too hungover to do anything except die in our beds so we set out the following day. We initially couldn't find a single hostel available in Tucuman except on Booking.com, which we had long refused to use because Hostelworld.com is the s***, but when push comes to shove and you have to decide whether to sleep on the street or in a sketchy hostel... You choose the latter, right? Right. So we arrived in Tucuman (stab city according to the owner of our hostel in Cafayete) and took a cab to the hostel to avoid being murdered and where we were forced to stay in the grungiest hostel thus far on the trip. f*** it - we showered and went to bed. The next day we toured around Tucuman, but the city's only claim to fame is the fact that the Argentinian constitution was signed there (a building you can't even enter) so if you ever have a chance to visit the city, don't.

Anyway, we arrived at our hostel in Mendoza and were already incredibly pleased to be back in a somewhat larger city. The region of Mendoza is famous for being the major wine producing area of the country - something like 70% of the country's wine is produced there - so basically we had found our heaven on earth. The hostel was lovely and offered free wine from 7-9 pm each evening. Now I'm not just talking a single free glass of wine like the hostels in Brazil offered one free caiparinha each night (still can't even look at that drink after the ridiculous number we drank), it's all you can drink until the clock strikes the hour of sadness, 9 pm. The hostel was also putting on an asado evening for 130 pesos (about US$10 on the blue market rate) and we obviously hadn't had our fill of red meat after the countless asados in Uruguay and BA so we signed right up!

Now, one can never really tell when booking a hostel whether it's going to be good craic or not. It's really the luck of the draw and sometimes we've been lucky and meet hilarious people who are always up for a good chat and othertimes people suck. This hostel belongs in the former category because everyone was so, so lovely. That night at the asado dinner we met two guys from Australia, Anders and Paul, who were coming to the end of their travels and heading home in about five days, and a lovely couple that had met in London but the woman is from the States and the guy from New Zealand. We stayed up chatting for hours over delicious red meat and free flowing red wine (yes, Allison has changed her ways and now prefers white wine to red... Shocking, I know!). In any case, the couple, Johnny and Kate, invited Negar and me to join them on their bike tour the next day of the wine region close to the capital called Maipu (say it out loud, you'll die lolz) and we accepted because we had no idea what we were doing and they seemed to know a little more.

The next morning we met them at breakfast and set out for the bus station only to be told once we tried to catch a bus that we needed to buy a plastic card and put money on it because the buses didn't accept any form of cash. Fine, got that sorted and then I tried to board a bus telling the driver where we were off to and he just repeatedly said, "No!" "No what, sir?" He just kept repeating no, no over and over again without any explanation and I was like what ze f***?! Explain what the issue is, please. Use your words cause I have no idea what I could possibly be doing wrong at this moment in time. I've gotten this stupid card and put money on it, now let me go to the vineyards!! He said something about "otro lado" (other side) which made no sense in the context so I was like, fine b****, I'll get off your bus and take another one if you're so sensitive.

We ended up on another bus before too long and arrived about an hour later in Maipu where we then proceeded to rent bikes and set out on our way. Our first stop was an organic vineyard where we received a tour around the vineyard and got an explanation as to what makes their wine different from their counterparts in the region. Obviously they don't use any pesticides and all that jazz so they plant trees and other herbs in and around the vines so that bugs are attracted to them instead of the grape vines. Really fascinating place and delicious wine so we went ahead and bought a bottle. For 60 pesos (US$6), it was really a crime not to. After nearly two hours at that vineyard we put our helmets on (we looked so dumb) and got back on our bikes except Johnny's tire had gone flat. He tried to explain to the people at the vineyard that it needed to be pumped and after a few attempts it became clear he probably had a hole in the tire. So the owner of the bike shop was called to bring another bike. Endless difficulties - nothing can ever be easy can it...

The next vineyard was a ways away and by the time we got there we first decided to visit the olive grove across the street to get a bit of food in our stomachs. We only did a tasting because the tour wasn't starting for a few more hours and we had vineyards to visit, but the tasting was the stuff of dreams. We sampled three or four different olive oils, tasted two different types of olives and got to try some sundried tomatoes (more on those damn things later in San Rafael) and some sort of pesto sauce. Freaking magical. With some more food in our bellies we headed to the other vineyard, a French one, and then one more before heading back to the capital. As Johnny and Kate were heading out the next day they invited us to join them for some asado at a restaurant around the corner from the hostel, and since Negar and I had developed an addiction to asado at that point, we gladly accepted and were only too happy to spend a bit more time with them. They were really interesting people, I have to say. Kate had moved to London about seven years ago and had worked in a primary school before coming traveling and Johnny had worked in some sort of finance company where his hours had been very long. They said they had been living together the past two years but rarely saw each other and were very happy to finally be able to spend time together since pulling the trigger by quitting their jobs to travel the world for a year. They had started in east Africa and are now making their way through South America and will then end their year in Southeast Asia. Very jealous. Their plans after their trip ends is to head back to New Zealand, where Johnny's from, and basically start all over again. Ballsy and I was impressed.

The next day Negar and I decided to walk around the city of Mendoza and check out some of the plazas and such. Very uneventful. We got some ice cream. It was good. That evening the hostel had, you guessed it, asado again! Yayayay. Sign us up. We had also been wondering where our fun Australian friends had disappeared to from two nights previously when low and behold they appeared for free wine at 7 pm like all normal human beings do. We saw them from afar initially sitting at the high top table and could hardly contain our excitement that they hadn't left yet and were overjoyed when they came over and asked to join us. Yes, please! They filled us in on their past few days and decided to join us for asado that evening as they, too, could not resist the temptation of the beautiful Argentinian asado.

The wine was flowing and all the chats were being had as the meat was brought around time and time again. These two were some of the funniest people I had ever met in my entire life. Anders is 29 and Paul 30, and they had both quit their jobs to come traveling five months ago and were crying on the inside about having to return in three days. Paul had a lovely way of conversing, I'm not sure how to describe it exactly because it was more than that he just had a nice voice. It was his mannerisms and way he really engaged you when he spoke. Anders, on the other hand, had some of the most ridiculous and entertaining stories I had ever heard, one of which included him sleeping with one of his high school teachers a year after graduation. The night progressed and the asado ended but the guys went and got the two bottles of wine they had bought at vineyards and eventually we even had to open one of the bottles we had bought the day before. Needless to say, we were locked but having an amazing time laughing and sharing all the crazy stories that had taken place on our respective trips.

Around 4 am we start longing for the days where we could have gone to the beach, say in Brazil and Uruguay, for a late night dip before bed. What is one to do when you're stuck in a concrete city after drinking a bit too much? Go skinny-fountaining, I tell you. I'll sum up what that is very quickly - you go skinny dipping in the fountain at the plaza just a block away. Excellent! Plan set, let's go! Off we go only to discover the fountain at the plaza, which comes across as quite beautiful during the day, is very dirty and full of what look like spikes where water typically shoots out of during daylight (aka normal hours to be in this plaza, morons). s***, what do we do? Try the other fountain! We walked over and sadly this one wasn't much better but Anders and I still stick our legs in and walk around. It was very slimy and gross and there were still spikes sticking out of the ground, so skinny-fountaining/-plazaing, whatever you want to call it, was a bust. The guys did take their shirts off, though, so it wasn't a total fail?

We started back for the hostel when we caught sight of a playground so naturally we ran over and transformed into 6-year-olds playing on the junglegym and sliding down the slides and swinging on swings. Dumb dumbs... We probably looked like total morons, but man it was such good fun and with guys who didn't expect anything more from us rather than a good time running around acting like idiots. After the weird times we'd had in Rosario and Cafayete it was such a welcome breath of fresh air hanging out with people who didn't have some sort of secret agenda and that's why we stayed up till 5 am with them, as more than anything we knew we had at least another 2 weeks in Argentina with creepy Argentinian men, so enjoy the non-creepiness while you can, right lads?

The next day they left and initially Negar and I had decided we would go visit the other wine region, Lujon. Except it was raining and we were hungover so instead we decided to go to Subway and get foot-longs and go to the movies for the day. We first watched Selma (balled my eyes out) and then Always Alice (balled my eyes out again). We returned to the hostel just in time for wine (score) and went to bed early as we had a bus booked to our deaths in San Rafael. More on that to come.

All in all, Mendoza was a welcome change to our difficult times in the rest of Argentina. We met lovely people and laughed our asses off and I miss the people we met in that hostel so much. Sometimes I wish I could capture people and take them with me, and the Aussies and Johnny and Kate are definitely included on that list. The fun times were about to end, though, just wait...