With Uruguay out of the equation I returned once more to the Buenos Aires fore. Complete with the obligatory stay at Sabatico for a couple of days and an invigorated Adan, who was chuffed that he had made it out of the capital and actually done some travelling. But now he was back in town and had made some local contacts, so we enjoyed an evening in the slightly scary surroundings of Banfield. Not many gringos down here...great little gang though.

We needed beach. Which is this part of the world means Mar Del Plata, given the slim choices on the Atlantic coast. If Uruguay has the beaches of choice for the Argentine elite, Mar Del Plata is something of an antithesis. If Punta Del Este is the St Tropez, Mar Del Plata is the Blackpool. Apparently up to 1,000 coaches a day arrive here in the first week of January. Not that we care about mixing it with the common man, so we happily departed on the five hour trip to our beach resort destination.

We checked in to the Hostel Del Mar, which has a surfy type vibe and some nice folk to be met. I also encountered the loudest female snorers on the entire trip, not quite up to Adan standards but not far short. The hostel was in the middle of things so we set about exploring the town.

Actually, this isn't a town but more of a city. It's here that grandoise mansions from a bygone era (the posh set have long since abandoned this place) rub shoulders with seemingly countless blocks of timeshare apartments. Yet we both agreed that MDP retained a certain charm which, to be honest, neither of us were expecting. Then there's the beaches, two or three to either side of the main headland. Apparently in the peak January season these get seriously, comically packed and even now in December the scene was livening up nicely.

We bought a bat and ball, we swam, we basked in the sun. We got pummeled by the strong wind that appeared to have followed me from Uruguay but we cared not. Evenings were something of a tame affair, we had endured our fair share of nights out before we got here so were more than happy to just relax. And eat. And laugh at Adan's crazy swimming trunks.

I guess we stayed three nights but it may have been four. I had a tan and I was happy. Time was running very short. So I said goodbye to Adan and headed for Buenos Aires and, gulp, my last couple of days before Blighty.