Arrived safe and sound after our overnight journey in Puerto Madryn which is a lovely little place right on the sea. Hired bikes and attempted to cycle 7km to a sealion sanctuary but were foiled firstly by the gravelly road, secondly by our severe lacking physical fitness and thirdly by Tim's flat tyre....so spent the afternoon wandering round the town and walking on the beach.....discovered this is where the first Welsh settlers arrived in 1865. And where after months at sea they landed and then just stopped and decided that was enough travelling so they dug holes in the cliff and lived there instead. Oh boyo!

Highlight of the visit was our day trip to Peninsula Valdes national park where we were hoping to see Orca Killer Whales chomping down on sealion pups on the beach. It is the only place in the world you can see this (it was on BBC once!) and it is really rare to see....So the minibus was already in a state of hyper excitement once our guide told us that the park rangers had seen fins earlier that morning......but there was a full on stampede to the beach with me and Tim just running frantically after some wag yelled "The Orcas, the orcas...the whales are coming!" Oh yes eat your heart out Dickie Attenborough.

It was absolutely amazing watching a group of four whales chasing the seals right along the beach in front of us even though we didn't see one actually munching one!

After that we headed off to see hundreds of penquins...which are like pandas and look like little men in animal suits....and huge fat sealions......fab day out!!

Another day we hired a car and drove 90km through the wilderness to a tiny town called Gaiman which is where the Welsh settlers moved to after realising they couldn't live in holes on the beach. It was a funny place with streets like Juan Evans and Annie Jones Avenue and bizarrely one of the their big draws was a strange and slightly creepy recycled rubbish 'themepark' with a rubbish Taj Mahal and cut up coke cans on all the trees....hmmmm....there was a Flintstones car though so who are we to complain about what the Welsh get up to in the privacy of their own town.

Checked out the Welsh tea house where Princess Di scoffed on tea and scones but decided to snub it and headed to the more authentic ivy-covered 'Grandmother's Kitchen' instead. Sadly, whilst the tearoom was very cute with lace curtains and the owner was undoubtedly a grandmother, the cake spread was sorely lacking and most definately not fit for a princess. Infact we reckon some of the sponge selection could have been actually baked by Princess Di herself when she visited. Mighty fine cuppa though so again we can't complain...although we feel the ringing endorsement on the sign outside from the Daily Telegraph of London is pushing things a tad.

After a cheeky Pot pie in Mr Jones' Irish bar we boarded another 17 hours overnight bus to Rio Galleogas....Patagonia here we come!!!