My first real taste of "Latin America" came in the form of Buenos Aires, Argentina. An ever expanding city of varying densities, bustling in some places, yet dead quiet in others. But here (as with most other large cities) there is always something poppin off - an excellent place to "people-watch" and enjoy the number of public tango shows, musicians and protesters lining the streets.

I arrived off the plane in a frazzled mess after my luggage decided to take a detour to Lima, Peru. Minutes of running around, battling through broken sentences of my horrible Spanish passed and I was reunited with my 'wardrobe' and back on track to make it into the city. 1 hour later including a dodgy money exchange with the bus driver and I was in the big smoke, Central Buenos Aires. I decided to walk around the streets of my hostel and order my first South American meal. Something I will never forget because of how much I struggled - Cannelloni in a mixed sauce. It was really good. Unfortunately my full belly lulled me into a false sense of security, as I found myself lost in a matter of seconds. With no map in my possession. I was again forced to ask my way around the city for a street that I had no idea of how to pronounce. It was indeed a long and eye opening day!

After washing away the stench of 40 odd hours in transit, I made my first friend on the road, Stephan, from Holland was a cool guy, and when he produced a basket of bread and bottle of red, I knew he was a mate. The wine in Argentina is pretty extraordinary. For just $3 you can buy a bottle likely to rival the more expensive drops back home. I definitely had a field day in the supermarkets, with walls and walls of red gems glistening back at me. It was like being in sweet, sweet grapey heaven! My first night in Argentina was a goody, myself and Stephan wined and dined each other at a Spanish restaurant and strolled around town before coming back to the hostel to enjoy the iconic maté. Imagine an extra strong green tea, now add bitterness to it. You got maté. I really enjoyed it and in Argentina, Uruguay and Chile it is a BIG deal. Here, it is always maté time and is as much of a social event as passing around your first doobie behind the high school gym. Though many people I have met prefer to stick to the regular "gringo tea".

Dieters beware - stay out of South America unless you want to undo all of your hard work, gain 30kgs + and weigh enough to cause your plane home to make an emergency landing. Breakfast (and food in general in Argentina) is carbs, meat and more carbs. Pizza, pasta, potato, breads etc, there's no such thing as a light meal. Mornings are typically crossaints/pastries, breads, and a selection of spreads, including dulce de leche - a sweet caramel spread that everyone here gets aroused over.

I took to the city over the next few days, exploring the pleasant neighbourhoods like San Telmo (awesome markets along Defensa st), Puerto Madero (on the water with a cool real floating ship museum) Recoleta (containing the amazing cemetery resembling a dead city) and the numerous plazas, cobbled streets and colonial buildings like Casa de Rosada. Myself and my gang of Brazilian friends (whom I had a hard time communicating with) headed out to Florida st to partake in a spot of illegal money changing. Basically you have all these guys along this street yelling out "change, change" (cambio) and you ask the rate and go from there. You can get as much as double the official rate which allows your dollar to go further. On the other side you run the risk of being dealt fake bills or mugged. Make your own decisions on whether it's wise. We exchanged money and headed to Tigre, a 1hr (crowded) train ride from BA, with many markets, a delta and home to my first asado (BBQ). That night it was vino vino vino baby! (I paid the price the next day)

The funny thing about elections in Argentina is that there is a closure of bars/liquor stores etc over the weekend of voting. This was exactly the case for the weekend I was there. I had no time to figure out WHY this was, and was more concerned on WHERE the hell I could get an alcoholic beverage. God love BA and it's shady "black" stores that will "not" sell you alcohol on a voting weekend. Alcohol in hand I arrived to find my Spanish friend Jamie begging me for water from his bed. In his coma like state and heavy Spanish accent, he told me of his incredible night which consisted of him partying with the homeless, ending up in numerous bars and arriving home at 3pm that afternoon with no wallet. He finished his story by saying "help me Harry, I am a piece of s***" by this time I was well on the floor LOLing my face off. Good times.

I have made some excellent friends from around SA and more during my time in Buenos Aires. It's funny how it is so hard to communicate with some people you meet but as soon as the word "Facebook" is uttered, you both immediately have this weird understanding that you will somehow keep in touch. For me BA was a city that took some time to adjust to, but once I did, I had nothing but fun and enjoyment simply strolling around the city and taking it all in. It is an amazing mixture of Latin and Eurpoean culture in various aspects like dress, food and music. A truly awesome place I will be sure to return to!