The flight to Buenos Aires was difficult and emotional for Callanan. Unfortunately he forgot to take out his trusty penknife from his hand luggage, so was forced to say goodbye to it. This is definitely stating the obvious, but the only benefit to flying is speed as far as I can see it. South America has an amazing bus network, which is cheaper, provides more entertainment and food, is more comfortable,

has less queuing and waiting and there's no bag checking. We arrived into BA on a Saturday night, back to our old haunt, Milhouse Avenue hostel, but with a booking this time. Murph & Lorna were already there, geared up for a big night out.

We needed to fuel up first, so took a trip to the Two Door steak house. This is not its actual name, but its only two doors down from where Sean first stayed in BA, hence the name. Its a cheap and cheerful place and we had to go there at least once in Seans honour.

As usual, it being BA, we were back to really late nights out, and it was bright when we were coming home from the club. We had learned our lesson though, and didnt head to the club with the hostel, but made our own way there and saved some cash.

Of course, it would have been impossible for us to return to BA without treating ourselves and that was Sunday, with a trip to La Cabrera. The four of us headed off and were only waiting for twenty minutes, which must be some sort of record. The steak was as amazing as ever, but there was a debate over whether it was the best steak in Argentina, with Murph and Lorna having a different opinion to our own.

We did get some sightseeing done in BA, as we hadnt done it all in two previous visits. La Recoleta Cemetary is a very famous attraction because its where all the rich people are buried, with the most notable probably being Eva Peron AKA Evita. The Recoleta area itself is the posh part of BA, with the designer label shops being a dead give away. The weather was gorgeous, it being the start of summer, so the place was busy with tourists. The quality and age of the crypts is quite varied, with a mix of old and new, elaborate and simple and some in a state of neglect. There is a large map near the entrance indicating some of the more notable people who are buried here, but not being Argentinian we didn't know any of them besides Evita and several people who have streets named after them. When we did find Evita's crypt, it was crowded with tours, so we got a few snaps and got out of there. The alleys in the cemetary are so narrow, its impossible to get a straight on photo of any of the crypts.

That night, with it being Murph and Lorna's last before they were off to Ireland, we had an invite to a friends apartment for some sangria and wine. Tuesday turned into an admin day for two reasons. Murph and Lorna were gone and there was a massive protest outside, making it hard to get around. The hostel doorman was overworked, trying make sure it was only guests that were coming into the hostel. The protests were to mark the ten year anniversary of the deaths of five protesters, who were at the time protesting against the government. So we went up the rooftop, which was newly decked out with fake grass, to write our thoughts and feelings down in our journals. Out of the blue, Callanan noticed a massive plume of smoke off in the distance. Somewhere, part of Buenos Aires was burning.

By night time it was a lot calmer, which meant we could go out for our last supper, at the standard dinner time of 11PM, to Desnivel, for, you guessed it, steak and wine. And chimichurro sauce. We walked to the restaurant, but on the way back we picked up a taxi being driven by an English speaking man. When it came time to pay, he proceeded to tell us that we were misprouncing the street and that we should carry a business card or something with it written down. On our last night in South America, we were being told our Spanish, that had served us well through seven countries, served us through two previous stays at the same hostel and countless taxis to that very street, was wrong. Who invited Buzz Killington? Thanks taxi man, thanks for being a killjoy.