We rolled into Buenos Aires at about 1 and it took about 2 minutes for me to manage to make a bit of a full of myself here by walking with my flip flops on the wrong feet in my aussiebum (track)pants through the bus terminal. The pants were rectified promptly by changing the flip flops were not through sheer idiocy and it was until later trying to board the metro (known here as subte) that I realised my mistake.

As usual we'd booked no where in advance a risky manouver as always and for the first time one which could backfire as the Milhouse Hostel AKA party hostel of Buenos Aires appeared to be full. We were just about ready to leave when the receptionist decided that if we waited an hour in the bar (conspiracy perhaps?) and these boys didn't show up to claim their beds we could have them. So we took to the bar, I had a reasonably priced alcoholic beverage and I dare say got a little drunk doing so. The boys did not claim their reservation (that we know of, they have attempted to do so later) and so we happily took their beds of their hands.

After dumping our stuff and having a quick shower, after sweating our asses of at Iguassu on the Argentinian side's trails and then sitting on a stuffy bus for 20 hours we felt a bit gross. Sidenote - the showers at Milhouse are very good A+ highly reccommended to all backpackers reading. So newly rejuvenated we were off and having a look at the sights in the area. We had a look at their cathedral, which in no way compares to either of those of Brazil and Casa Rosada, the Presidential seat famous to most from Evita standing on the balcony in her heyday waving/speaking/singing to the masses depending on which clip/musical you happen to be basing your history on. There also happened to bge a number of gatherings going on in the square. One was a protest about some local theatre closing down and how it was a travesty for the arts (which Buenos Aires naturally *note sarcasm* is lacking in). The second appeared to be a gathering of Falkland War Veterans and for this reason we chose to stop speaking English in their presence less we get shouted at in spanish about warring with Argentina. We then had a wander on the otherside of Ave 9 de Julio and found congress, which is modelled on the Capitol Building in DC.

Having done enough sightseeing for one day we took up a seat in a nice steak restaurant next to the window and proceeded to people watch everyone walking by, a particularly well suited window as well as it was right next to the subte exit and had a nice continuous stream of people coming out for us to judge. What we learnt - the boys have either stupid baggy clothing, stupidly tight clothing or mullets (occassionally a combination of all of the above). The girls like spandex. End of sentence. The steak was awesome, as you would expect from Argentina, and I had a nice big litre bottle of beer. All in all very good.

We then returned to the hostel for the night. I met my roomates (and those that would be Lucys the next day) and they all seemed like sound guys. Lucy was stuck in a room full of French boys. That said all but one were pretty rude, the exceptional French boy was referred to as the cute one and actually tried to talk to us unlike the others. I was however MIGHTILY impressed by their knowledge of the existence of a****** (the card game for all those sickos out there). This redeemed them somewhat in my eyes. The night was spent in the bar enjoying happy hour priced drinks into the night and somehow we returned to bed at 4am. This would prove to be a bit of a theme for the next few days.

The next day we got up and had a wander down Avenue Florida confusingly there are 2 in central Buenos Aires, we chose the correct one thankfully. Avenue Florida is the main shopping street in Buenos Aires and supposedly full of places to get good cheap leather products the country is famous for - well we didn't see too many good examples of nice leather products, but we had a drop into the Gallerias Pacifico a nice fancy mall with some really cool classical murals on the ceiling - it wasnt any sistine chapel, but it was good. We also learnt of Argentina (and indeed most of South America)'s affinity for walking at a snail's pace, ridiculously ridicuously slowly that you can't help but get aggrevated and overtake them. And from people that are so impatient when confronted with queing or any form of wait. It baffles the mind.

We then continued to the city's obelisk, which is a definate focal point on Av 9 de Julio and looks very patiotic standing alongside the country's flag.

We then had lunch at a restaurant that continues to inadvertantly overcharge us, primarily by bringing us 2 slices of cake (as one slice) and then proceeding to charge us for 2 slices - yes its as retarded as it sounds. We should probably have suspected something by the size of the slice that came out, by why on earth would we assume they'd bring us a slice supposed to constitute 2? The waiter also had a total crush on Lucy, but for whatever reason was convinced we were dating despite us telling him several times we were not. Then when she went to the toilet he came over and "subtly" asked for more details about her including how we met. I told him we had been flatmates in Newcastle at university, cut to him screaming Nooo really loudly. God knows what he translated me as saying but it surely can't have been anything resembling what I had actually said. Silly spanish speaking man. OH and I had a forghezhetti (sp?) pizza which was basically a pizza with about 10 onions sliced all over it beneath the cheese, on top of the cheese all over the damn thing. It was rather ridiculous, thus fairly representative of the entire trip to the restaurant.

We then headed back to the hostel via the oldest church in the city, which really is nothing of note and went for a nap at about 4ish.

We woke up by the sounds of room mates coming to bed at 12 somewhat drunkenly. s***! Thankfully we were going to a called Amerika that night and it was all you could drink so our current state of soberness wasn't too much of an issue. We quickly ran to the shower and got dressed and beautified and into a taxi.

The price of all these drinks we were about to consume I hear you ask? 50 pesos. Bargainous! The queue to get in was large and this filled us with confidence for the club. Once in we headed straight for the bar where one of the barmen had a continuous stream of beers on the go for anyone to pick up, we started with a number of these, later on the hazier part of the evening I would move on to the similiarly streaming glasses of bubbly going on.

At 2(ish) .. perhaps.. there was a bit of a show on the stage with girls with large feather head dresses dancing seductively that was cool if not a bit random and only about 5 minutes in length. We then swiftly moved onto cocktails.

They played possibly the longest Britney megamix ever, possibly incorporating large sections of every single she has ever released from hit Me Baby One More Time to Womanizer and Circus. It was good and it was also at this point I realised how funny it is when spaniards sing to english songs when they have no idea what a single word in it means, they were getting so many wrong it was hilarious the sentences sounded like baby talk, I was drunkenly amused for a solid 5 minutes.


The rest of the evening is literally a blur of drunkeness and dancing as its at this point the skittles were definately kicking in. I was shortly shuffled towards the exit alongside everyone else. It occurred to me at this point standing in the cold harsh light of day that Lucy (who had gone home with someone) had the address and map of the hostel. I tried asking a couple of the taxi drivers if they knew where it was, but they didn't so off in the general direction of the hostel I walked (thankfully I did walk in the right direction otherwise that could have gone a bit wrong) asking Argentinians (as it was now around 8am-ish) the way to the Obelisk and figuring I'd be able to find my way from there. At the obelisk there was a McDonalds and I don't think I have ever had such a large group of people be so disgusted in my drunkeness as I slurred my order in pigeon spanish and aggressive pointing. Apparently McDonalds is not a drunks destination in Argentina.

As it turns out, slash as google maps informs me I walked 9km from the the club to the hostel, which I find comforting given how long it drunkenly appeared. I stumbled in just before 9am to the hostel and the lovely receptionist took me to the common room and brought me some cornflakes clearly concerned by my level of drunkeness, the fact I was alone and clutching to a McDonalds orange juice as if for dear life and sat and asked me what I'd been up to that evening. I recounted the evening mostly and then headed to bed, where I passed out almost immediately.

We worked the hangover off the next day at the bar round the corner from the hostel by having a nice big burger with lots of ketchup and it defo did the trick and ready for a new day got the metro out to Tiete to go and see Recoletta.

We had a browse round what the Lonely Planet guidebook politically correct-ly describes as a hippy market, it was more of a craft market really, before having a look inside the church just outside the cememtary.

The cemetary is breathtaking. The crypts are beautiful and largely well maintained, clearly belonging to those of Buenos Aires' elite families. If Buenos Aires had a gossip girl their families would be burried here. And when people describe it as like a small town they're not joking, the different lanes even had street names. We were however unable to find Evita's grave, the Lonely Planet (damn them!) said it would be obvious and easy to find, well if it was it was too simple for us! And we weren't prepared to pay someone to point it out so having seen all the grandest of the crypts, none of them her own we assumed she'd decide to play it low key in death and left her to it.

We then had a walk to the park and saw Floralis Generica, the massive metal flower that opens and closes its petals with the passing of the sun like a real flower. It was very pretty and we got some good photos of it before sheltering in the shade it cast on the grass.

That night we went out with the roomates and the friends they were traveling with and went to PACHA. It was very expensive. Entry itself was 90 pesos. It included free transport from the hostel but even then very pricey. And once inside the drinks were expensive 20 pesos for a vodka energy. But what do you expect from PACHA? And still cheaper than the Ibiza one, thats how I justified it to myself anyway. It was a good night they played some damn good music and we were in good company all the hostel guys were sound. And I enjoyed several lollipops purchased from the toilet attendant (much cheaper than alcoholic beverages). We stayed until the sunrise which we watched though the metal wire fence then hopped into a taxi and back to bed, getting in around 7am.

For our last day in Buenos Aires we decided to take it easy on the old livers and be good tourists and see a bit more of the culture of BA so we started by heading out to the Sunday market in San Telmo, which was supposed to be good for tango dancers in the street and saving us the expense of having to take in a show. Well the market did not disappoint there were tango dancers, bands playing in the street, various performers it was very good and the tango dancers in particular were very talented.

The market itself was a bit lost on us. It was an antiques market, the surrounding shops themselves being antique shops and whilst there were many pretty silver items none I would have purchased nor could I have afforded to do so Argentinian ATMs being stupid and only allowing you one withdrawl a day meaning that my small withdrawl had to cover both Lucy and me for the whole day (as Lucy had been having a problem with her card). My mum however, would have loved it and probably have bought about half of it given the prices they were selling them for compared to how much it would have cost you in the UK.

We then continued walking towards La Boca taking in a nice big park which had another smaller market going on in it, selling a vast array of non-antique products, but none of which particularly took our fancy. In fact we were worried that we'd perhaps gone the wrong way or got a bit lost, when we saw down a side street a bright yellow and blue stadium and kne we were headed in the right direction.

La Boca was funky. All brightly painted. The descendents who built up the area were apparently from Genoa, Italy. Having visited the city (as its where my first year flatmate Lorenzo was from) I can say I see no similarities between the 2 whatsoever and can only assume the immigrants to be trully inspired into creating something new for their new home. The people were as lively as the colours of the walls and everywhere there were street performers and tango dancers performing for restaurant guests. Alas the Boca Juniors weren't playing any games for the entire time we were in South America so there was no chance of catching a game. Argentina was in fact playing Venezula at home and Lucy and I were highly tempted to buy a ticket and go and if it werent for the ludicrously high price tag, one quite similar to our entire budget for Buenos Aires, we might well have done.

After thoroughly exploring La Boca we slumped ourselves in a taxi, we'd saved ourselves a good amount of money by walking there in the first place, and spent the evening relaxing in the hostel, packing our backpacks and eating some cake we'd bought from the supermarket round the corner.

The next morning we went downstairs, bright and early and ready to catch our flight to Lima and asked the receptionist how much we should be prepared to pay for a taxi to the airport and roughly (more out of curiosity than anything) how long it should take our flight didn't leave for almost 2.5 hours. The off hand question clearly sparked a note of curiosity/concern in herself. When was our flight she asked? We told her. "You have to check in 3 hours in advance for international flights in South America" she responded. We turned and ran to the main street to quickly catch a taxi.