A caballero (horseman) came riding down the mountain path on which we were hiking. We made light conversation in our broken Spanish, and he was very amused when Helen asked if she could take his photograph; but not as amused as we were when from under his alpaca-wool poncho he produced a camera of his own and proceeded to take a photo of us.

We are finally heading south. We stopped off in the little town of Cafayate to relax and do some wine tasting. This is an up and coming area for wine, but not yet as well known as Mendoza. Our tour of the bodegas was very enlightening, and we learnt that these are the highest altitude vineyards in the world, which brings certain advantages, particularly for red wine.

In and around Tafí del Valle, the scenery has changed. There is fresh snow on the mountains, and our long day hike into them was reminiscent of hiking in Spain; but the dried grass slopes, an abundance of freely wandering horses and the occasional condor gliding overhead reminded us that we were somewhere else. An eleven-hour hike took us to the top of a 3400m peak in the Sierra de Aconquija, but with no maps available we were unable to ascertain the mountain's name.

Time to elaborate on the wine and food. Never before in any of my travelling have I drank so much alcohol. Not that we are getting drunk every night you understand, but when they are the same price as soft drinks and coffee, then it's difficult to say no to a jug of local wine or a large bottle of cold beer.

In Tafí we sampled our first proper Argentine steak at a peña. This is an evening of local music, and this one was particularly special because the musicians (guitar and percussion) were exceptionally good, and were accompanied by diners dancing the tango between the tables. It was a very authentic experience.

The only thing that has surprised me about the steak is their reluctance to cook it rare. They seem shocked, and when it comes to the table nearer to medium rare they wait for you to try it, expecting to take it back to the kitchen for more cooking. But after the first mouthful, I would probably stick my fork in the waiter's hand if he tried to take it away again. It is every bit as good as I expected it to be. I don't think I'll be coming back a stone lighter, as I did from Asia.