Our final stop in South America found us in Buenos Aires, which we immediately realised is easily the coolest capital city in the continent.

BOCA JUNIORS

A happy coincidence in time and place led us to meet a guy from El Salvador called Marcello, who reckoned he knew some guys to buy some Boca Juniors tickets from, as most tourists get lumbered with either no tickets, or a hefty 200 peso (about 40 quid) price tag by going with a tour group. We didnt fancy either of those options as Boca Juniors are world renowned for not only being one of the best teams in latin America (notably being Maradonnas club, and more recently Carlos Tevez), but also for having the craziest and most passionate supporters anywhere in the world. Assuming we would have most of the day free we went jogging in the park near our hostel in LA Boca, and returned later sweaty and very hot. Marcello said we had to leave right away to queue up for some tickets, and so, happy we might get tickets at face value and not have to deal with some scary touts, but rather smelly and in need of showers, we set off for La Bombonera. An hours queueing in the midday sun (which is actually more 10am sun as Argentina seem to have fixed their time zone so that they can stay up later) found us with some bona fide Boca tickets for the all standing south stand, a tourist free zone according to Marcello, himself a die hard fan after living for a year in BA.

We met up later ready for the match, and found confused but very excited Marcello who demanded to look at our tickets. Hmm, yours are North Stand too? We had somehow managed to get our hands on tickets for the section of the stadium reserved for the hardcore Boca fans, including their notorious hooligan faction. Kate looked reather less than excited about the possibility of being killed, this being only her second ever football game, and Im not exactly chief cockney hooligan wideboy myself, but we were assured that being in this stand would simply make the experience even better. Decked out in the finest fake shirt 30 pesos can buy, we made our way into the stand. If we had been alone we would have happily took our spaces in the strangely empty middle section, as everywhere else was already rather full even though it was still two hours until kick off. This would have been a very bad idea indeed. The other supporters are so scared/respectful (however you want to see it) of the hooligans that they do not dare stand in their space, instead allowing the large hooligan population to get as drunk as possible until 5 minutes before the game and then rush in to the stadium to find the best seats in the house ready and waiting for them. This lead to a rather deflated looking stand until right up to the crucial moment, when we turned to see an army of blue and gold rushing into their spaces. The players were lead out onto the field, the referees were given a three man roman-shield escort onto the playing surface (policemen with riot shields block the officials from view until they are safely out of coin-missile range).

Then about 10% of the stand turned around to face away from the pitch. Marcello explained that many of the truely hardcore fans do not wish to waste their time watching the football, it is more important to them to ensure their reputation as the loudest and most passionate supporters is upheld. So they sing. For three hours, without any interruption even for goals, and with more passion than any teenage emo band can fake. Our favourites included a man who looked like a cross between Kevin Keegan and a flowerpot man, complete with permed mullet and stonewashed dungarees, and someone who looked like scarface from the lion king. These men, along with thousands of others (many of whom sporting disturbing life sized tattoos of thier favourite players faces) attend purely for the enjoyment of singing along for their beloved Boca. Marcello provided the translations for the scary and brutal sounding songs, which had hilariously wet lyrics, notably "Boca you are my best friend i will love you till the end of time no one is closer to my heart than you". Or something like that, but lyrics that would make even Celine Dion cringe. They did have an enjoyable one about their rivals River Plate shagging chickens though.

The first half, ending 0-0 was spent largely keeping an eye on the hooligans, and watching the fans dust dandruff from their shoulders (a strange dance move that accompanied all the chants). Only three songs were sung, each lasting almost fifteen minutes each without any dip in decibels. The second half was much better, ending with a 3-1 victory for Boca, with each goal greeted by what can only be described as a mosh-pit in the stands, leaving us gripping each other for fear of becoming another statistic in support of allseater stadiums. After the final wistle there was no let up in singing or moshing, and we had to endure an ever-increasing tension for nearly an hour as the Huaracan fans were led to safety. The rest of the stadium was clear, and the hooligans were getting restless, but we did make it out alive eventually, with me almost retaliating and shoving back at a man until i realised he was big enough to eat me in one bite.

We survived (and enjoyed, i might add) the craziest stand of the craziest football team in the world. Danny Dyer eat your heart out.

The rest of our time in Buenos Aires hasnt been quite as exciting as the Boca game, but it has been really cool. BA is a fantastic city, with amazing steaks, great wine and beer, endless cool graffitied and arty streets to amble around, plenty of market stalls to empty our pockets, and some great parks to soak up the sun in. Latin America has been an amazing continent, and we have absolutely loved our 5 months here, but we are now packed and ready to be on our way later tonight; Australia here we come!