Having spent a week in Uruguay, myself and the two remaining Danich boys decided to head back to Buenos Aires for a few days. We approached the city late at night on the slower three hour ferry from Colonia del Sacramento. Having negotaited the beaurocracy that is south american immigration (i.e. have you got all those bits of paper we gave you when you entered the country 3 weeks ago?) we arrived at the port of Buenos Aires where we were greeted by a beautiful cityscape. The last three days in Buenos Aires were more crazy than the two weeks I spent here before heading to Uruguay. One evening, I went out to dinner with a group of English people. After dinner we went to a late bar in Recoleta. To get there the three girls got in one taxi and us three guys got another. What lay ahead was the best 5 minute journey you will ever get for 2 pesos! Despite police presence, the taxi drivers decided to pump up the music at the traffic lights and jump the cars from front wheel to back etc. Once the lights went green it was like being in need for speed underground! It took about 3 minutes to do a 15 minute journey. It appeared that we were racing the girls' taxi which meant moving in and out of the 6 lanes and undertaking lorries at 130 kph (thats 80 mph through the streets of a busy city!!!) The last sharp corner before the bar was negotiated with what I have to admit was the smoothest hand break turn I have ever witnessed! On arrival at the bar, Klaus our bizarrely germanic taxi driver, jotted down his mobile number and muttered what I can only imagine meant 'give me a shout if you ever need to get anywhere in a hurry' I won't be forgeting that taxi ride in a hurry! The next day I visited Palermo - again! I strolled down Calle Araoz until I reached 2180 which is a former residence of Ernesto 'Che'Guevara. After this I went to the park to improve my tan and then met the lazy Danes to watch Arsenal smooth their path to Paris. Jens (Lemon as they call him here) was immense. That evening we went to a restaurant where Stefan had been attracting the attention of one of the waitresses. The manager declared that the bar was open until we wanted it to close and gave us free shots of Grappa and some other rank Estonian digestant. On my last day in Buenos Aires I had a bit of a nightmare. In the morning, I hopped on the tube to head back to the sports bar for the Barca v Milan game. Upon reaching my destination station I interupted some chancer with his hand in my wallet pocket. Having given him the most evil, take your hands out of my pockets, stare I could muster, I hopped off the tube and maintained eye contact as he disappered on the departing train. Later on that day I went to the bus station to buy my ticket to Mar del Plata. I got a taxi back from the bus station to the hostel where the driver informed me that I was trying to pay him with 'dinero falso'. I handed over all my small bills until it got to the big money. He eventually settled for seven pesos in coins. I went to a place to check if the money was indeed fake and they said it wasn't. It was only then that I realised that pr*ck features in the taxi had switched my 50 peso note for a 5 peso note. It cost me 52 pesos to do a journey which is 8 pesos. I went back to my hostel to shout a few 'hijo de putas'into my pillow. Understandably deflated at my own inability to spot a shmuck, I went out to a steak dinner. There is something not quite right about having an armed police officer wearing a bullet proof vest standing next to you when you are eating dinner! Next up, the five and a half hour coach journey to Mar del Plata. The Danish boys are staying in Buenos Aires so now I am alone again!