Hoping & expecting idyllic palm fringed beaches & beach bars a plenty to watch the sun go down we boarded the 5hr bus to Villa Gesell.

The lack of cabs at Villa Gesell bus station meant we had to do the proper backpacker bit and set off on foot into town. Ten minutes later we said 'sod this' and ducked into a Taxi office. We headed for the recommended Posada that Luke, Chantelle, George & Tim stayed in not 2 years previously only it was shut. The Taxi had already gone so we walked into town to find a coffee shop to dump the bags whilst the girls went off in search off accommodation.

The girls returned an hour later from their 'Cabana on the beach' search to report, to their disgust, it was all high rise hotels and not a palm tree in sight. Time for lunch and a beer to think up a plan B.

Lunch wasn't the greatest success as, looking up from his manky hot dog, Jona asked 'Is that dog pi**ing on my bag?' Worse than that it had taken a crap on it! The day was deteriorating pretty quickly. A couple more hours trudging around (Jona cursing and trying to keep the dog dirtied bag off himself) we settled on a half decent hotel.

In a vain attempt to lift our spirits we found the only open bar in town and ordered a bottle of bubbly. Buoyed by the bubbles, with a renewed vigor, Jona set off in search of alternative accommodation for the next evening. The unanimous reply from all the Posadas was 'Ermm, Thorry, not open until December'. Over dinner we decided we must remain positive (or be fined 1 peso) and give the place a chance, after all it was Sunday.

Hoping to find some bargains we headed to the shops the next morning. Sharon & Em brought Havaianna flip flops (Shazza´s third pair) but soon gave up and armed with lunchtime Empanadas, headed for the beach.

The piercing shingle proved too much so we headed back to the hotel to pick up some padding, but we took a wrong turn past the bar (is there such a thing?) and decided to stop for a quick afternoon beer. Ten Quilmes later we abandoned the beach idea and got chatting to some friendly Argentineans who told us Pinnamar (our supposed next destination) was a no, no; Mar del Plata was the place to go. Fed up with the bar we took a wander and ended up sitting in the gutter chatting and drinking with some local guys outside their shop, who pointed us to the ticket office so we could leave for Mar del Plata in the morning. Back at the hotel to freshen up, it had all proved too much for Jona who took a sudden liking to his bed, so Sharon & Emma headed out for champagne and dinner.Jona still insists he was doing the chivalrous thing by giving the girls some natter time (bollox!).