GOOD TIMES IN BUENOS AIRES

We were really looking forward to getting to Buenos Aires not only because everyone who has ever been there has raved about it, and not just because the 100km hour winds down in the south were a bit chilly, but also because our friends Ali, Suzy and Christian were coming out to see us for a holiday. We were all hugely excited when they met us in the lobby of the hotel and it was like we hadn't been away at all as we caught up on each other's news. They had been expecting their flight that day to be ten hours, so when they realised halfway through that it was fifteen, it had been a bit of a shock to their system… still, they were here now and we were all up for a celebration.

After a pretty lethal caipirinha - with tequila in, which is surely not right - we went to a local steak restaurant recommended by the hotel, but were a little fazed by the massive queue outside. But when they served us champagne as we waited to be seated and we watched the ginormous steaks being served, we realised this was a pretty cool place. How good is that? And the steak didn't disappoint either - succulent, juicy and delicious.

Having spent the last few weeks in some decidedly dodgy accommodation, we made the most of the luxury of the lovely boutique hotel in the fashionable suburb of Palermo Soho which Suzy and Christian had booked us into as our wedding present. Comfy bed, clean towels, our own bathroom and a swimming pool…perfect!

We spent the next morning wandering around Palermo looking at the boutiques and swanky bars. It reminded people of a cross between parts of New York, LA and Sydney, which has definitely whetted our appetite for seeing Sydney now. The two of us were so happy to let someone else make the decisions and tell us where we were going for a change, that we unthinkingly agreed to head back to the hotel when the others said that they wanted 'to get changed' or 'to have a lie down', despite having only been out for a couple of hours and had only a limited time in BA. We all walked together into Ali's room and walked past the chambermaid who was cleaning the bathroom and…did a double take as it wasn't the maid, but our friend Tracey, who had come out to surprise us! We were totally in shock, as we realised that over the last few months, the others had managed to conceal from us through a series of elaborate lies, deceit and falsehoods that Tracey would be joining them on their holiday. What a brilliant surprise - although we were a little disconcerted about their devious ability to lie so convincingly, particularly Ali who managed to weave a whole web of lies about how she was nervous about flying home on her own from Iguazu, being alone for two nights in BA and then flying on to London - in fact, of course, she would actually be with Tracey.

The six of us had a lovely lunch at a restaurant with a rooftop terrace, slowly frying our pale English skins in the hot sun, and then headed into the centre of the city to the Plaza de Mayo, the main square. This is the historic square where Argentina's major political events have been played out, with its Casa Rosada at one end, and the famous balcony where Madonna spoke to the nation and sang Don't Cry For Me Argentina. (OK, it also happens to be the Presidential Palace where someone called Evita lived for a while…). We returned to this square the following day to see the 'Mothers of the Disappeared' (not 'Disappointed', Christian, although they probably are that too) who parade silently around the Plaza every Thursday at 3.30pm to remember their family members who were abducted by the military junta in the 70s and 80s. Thousands were murdered, and some were thrown from planes into the River Plate. These women are still demanding justice and answers all these years later, but none are forthcoming, and it is extremely sad that the only people who seem to take any notice of these aging ladies are tourists like us.

From the Plaza de Mayo, we went for coffee at Café Tortoni, one of the oldest and most famous cafes in BA. We were lucky to have a great guide for our time in BA - Christian had done lots of preparation before coming out and knew exactly which places we should see, enabling us to really cram a lot into our short time and get a proper taste of all the highlights of the city. After wearing ourselves out with more sightseeing, we made our way to the recently renovated port area, Puerto Madero, and had a well-deserved bottle of wine or two as the sun was setting, before then heading out for dinner of - yes, you've guessed it - steak.

The next few days followed a similar pattern as we explored different parts of this great city with its wide avenues lined with pretty purple-flowered jacanda trees. One of the highlights was visiting La Recoleta cemetery, where Evita is buried. It was a surprisingly peaceful - if slightly unsettling - place in the centre of town where rich families have built lavish stone and marble mausoleums to house their dead loved ones. Evita's family 'grave', located on one of the smaller side 'streets' of the cemetery, is relatively modest compared to some of the others but was immediately recognisable by the flowers and group of tourists taking photos. We followed this with lunch at La Biela, another famous café which was apparently the site of bombings and protests during the dirty war - although the ladies who lunched carried on regardless. Now, it's just a lovely place to sit on the sun-dappled terrace and eat nice salads. Later we wandered around the city again and saw the large obelisk which sits at the centre of the Avenida 9 de Julio, one of the widest avenues in the world apparently, with 16 lanes of traffic thundering past.

During our stay in BA, Duncan developed a reputation for being able to eat enormous quantities of food at one sitting. Concerns were growing that he was actually turning into one of the cows he'd eaten, and had grown a second and third stomach. That night was no exception - he polished off his own massive pizza before helping everyone else out with theirs. Well fed and watered, we headed to a tango show at 'El Viejo Almacen' which had some excellent music, particularly if you like accordion duets, and some great tango dancing. Not so sure about the dodgy panpipe moods interlude, but what the hell, we like Simon & Garfunkel cover versions.

Sadly, our budget doesn't stretch to chic boutique hotels every night, so we had left the others in the lovely Mine Hotel and moved to the Tango Backpackers Hostel down the road. Dreadful place - one of the worst of our trip so far - dead cockroach in the bathroom, no lock on the bathroom, tiny toilets, and a filthy, damp, windowless room. We had to stay two nights before finding another place, and ended up having a good old argument with the guy at reception who actually acknowledged that the reason they ask people to pay in advance (not standard practice) is because otherwise they would want to move out because it's so awful. We refused to pay for that night's accommodation, but lost our deposit - a small price to pay to escape. Instead we checked into a place with ensuite rooms and a nice sunny courtyard - although still sadly lacking complimentary flower petals and chocolates put onto your bed at night.

Having got that out of our systems, we headed to La Boca where Christian had his photo taken with a Maradona 'lookalike'. We say lookalike, but Duncan had said hola to him and carried on walking before realising that the fat bloke with the curly hair and Argentina football shirt was supposed to be the cheat who robbed us of the World Cup in 1986. We wandered around the attractive multi-coloured painted houses while Emma picked up kisses from the touts trying to encourage us to watch a tango show at their café. One eventually lured us into his café, promising that the massive group of school kids there would be calm and well behaved - not 'loco'. Well, they all went pretty loco a few minutes later, when one of them was pulled up on stage to dance with the beautiful tango dancer. He acquitted himself quite well - far better than any of us would have under the same circumstances - and the kids went wild…

Later we went to the lovely - if a little touristy - district of San Telmo (not St Elmo, although it gave us a much-appreciated opportunity to hum the music from the classic 80s movie, St Elmo's Fire) and had lunch in the main square (with more tango dancers) whilst trying to ignore the mugger who had just been rugby tackled by a passer-by, and the local evil ASBO kids who were trying to club pigeons on the head with their sticks. In a bad day for animal welfare, we later saw a dog run off yelping in pain after being hit by a car L . Still, more steak (Duncan) and delicious cocktails at a trendy BA bar (Emma) cheered us up later.

The following morning we had an early start as we were spending the day at an estancia (large farmhouse) in the pampas (flat plains) outside Buenos Aires. We had a brilliant relaxing day watching (sexy) gauchos show off their skills at horse-riding, saw some polo, went cycling and swimming, and Emma even managed to persuade Duncan to go horse-riding which was the first time since his balls had been tenderised on a rather enthusiastic (i.e. out of control) horse a few years ago in the New Forest. Oh, and of course, there was lots more meat to eat.

That night, Emma slept outside on the terrace rather than let Duncan sleep on the top bunk in the room we were now sharing with Ali and Tracey, because she was paranoid that he would get his head chopped off by the ceiling fan above the bed (she had read about this happening before so knew it was, if not a likelihood, then a distinct possibility). We both lived to tell the tale. We had time for a quick look around the beautiful Parque Japones (with loads of enormous koi carp) with the others before they left to catch their flight to Puerto Iguazu. We would have had more time if Duncan's map-reading skills had been up to scratch. The one time we're without Christian, we get completely lost.

After going our separate ways, we had a few hours to kill before catching an overnight bus, so visited a large craft market near La Recoleta and hung out in the park. Later, we made our now traditional bus sandwiches with ham and cheese and tomato and avocado, half of which ended up in an embarrassing stain on Emma's crotch, then settled into our 17 hour bus journey north which was our first experience of 'super cama', with fully reclining seats, red wine, steak, champagne (no, really - National Express have some lessons to learn) and two enjoyably violent films liberally sprinkled with gruesome torture scenes. Just what you need to help you get to sleep!

Anyone thinking about visiting BA should definitely read the book 'Bad Times in Buenos Aires', which gives a great account of Argentina's recent history and paints a fascinating picture of the porteños, as people from BA are called. But don't take the title too literally - in fact, we really had the best of times in Buenos Aires.