Happy new year. I hope 2009 brings you all what you aspire for!

I last left you in Cusco, shortly before we flew to Lima. So we have plently of catching up to do! Dave had decided to go back to England for his Grandad's funeral so we had a temporary final weekend in Miraflores, supposedly the trendiest part of Lima. The first evening we decided to explore the night life of Barranco, which was rather unimpressively like most other cheesy bar type destinations, with samba and pop music blasting out inbetween all the usual beckoning into bars.

Understandably Dave spent most of his time, talking to family and arranging his trip back home. So I was left to explore Lima solo, still with a limp of course. I chose to walk Tom's rough guide tour of the centre, which was full of churches. Peru is a mostly catholic country, hugely encouraged by a visit from the Pope in the 80s. The most impressive church featured a large silver cross which locals and tourists alike constantly kiss and touch. There was a changing the guard in the main plaza which attracted a decent crowd. That evening we had decided to find tickets for Danny Howells and Lee Burridge at Teatro Leguia - we finally left late that morning to a glaze of sunlight. Dave departed the following aftertoon and I was left to decide what to do for the next 9 days.

Most backpackers use a website called Hostelworld to book their onward hostel in a new town/country. That evening I started chatting to the owners of our hostel who, after a bit of friendly questionning, revealed that the 10% deposit paid on booking goes directly to Hostelworld. The hostels see none of that, and the backpacker simply pays the remaining 90% to their hostel upon arrival. Considering the number of backpackers and hostels in the world, I think this is a truely stunning business model! Hostelworld take all the 10%'s for simply running a sales order processing website. The next day I flew to Buenos Aires.

I had forward booked my hostel, on hostelworld of course, in Florida avenue, which is basically the busiest pedestrianised street in the city centre. After all our time spent in private rooms, this was my first taste of dorms. My 6 person mixed dorm was with a group american university grads from Chicago. The hostel organised a free walking tour of the city centre, so a young argentine student showed us around. The most impressive was the pink Casa Roda at Plaza de Mayo, from which Evita famously spoke to the Buenos Aires citizens in the 1950s and mostly recently, Diego Maradona. The tour guide explained that the most popular local football team, Boca Juniors, had won the league title for the last three years and that is was hugely contraversial because the city's mayor supports Boca.

I was impressed by the organisation of the hostel, which featured a travel agency, connecting all the 'Hostelling International' hostels. It was always in the back of my mind that we had previously decided not to visit Iguazu Falls. This week seemed like the perfect opportunity. Having found that staying in dorms was fine, I decided to tackle long distance coach travel - the other area of backpacking we had yet to test. That evening I took the Via Bariloche coach to Puerto Iguazu - a total of 19 hours travelling. Sounds daunting, right? It was the best coach I've ever been on. Extremely comfy reclining seats (almost completely flat) with wine, soft drinks, beef with veg and salad for dinner, followed by a choice of champagne or whiskey. And then sleeping for the rest of the journey.

The coach arrived two hours behind schedule and I took another short bus ride to Hostel Inn Iguazu, just outside Puerto Iguazu. This was a converted casino, featuring a large outdoor pool. I stayed in a 4 bed mixed dorm with 3 friendly australians, Candice(as), Farrell and Shane. The hostel organised a mass bbq that evening, followed by a lewd dance show featuring a girl and what appeared to be her mother!

The following morning I went to the Argentine side of Iguazu Falls. A bit of geography for you; Iguazu features something like 54 individual water falls and is 1.5 kilometres wide - its basically massive. After every turn of the wooden pathways, a new view makes a new impression, as is probably evident from the dedicated Iguazu album. This side is made up of three trails at different levels of the falls. I hobbled around them all and it took a full day. On the bottom level, there is a boat ride across to the small island where you can see even closer. Afterwards, I paid £15 for a 12 minute motor boat ride right into the base of the falls. Everyone in the boat was immediately drenched and it was a real experience. I came back to the hostel and played water volleyball with some Argentine girls. That evening the ozeys and I went into Puerto Iguazu for a great argentine meat dinner - the steak definitely lived up to its fine reputation.

The next day I was due to leave for Buenos Aires at 4pm. So I decided to cross the border into Brazil to see the otherside of the falls, which meant a total of 10 buses that day! Trying to work out which forms to fill in at the border was somewhat challenging but I managed to get away with it, even though Brazil customs probably still think I'm in their country! The brazil side of the falls was a much shorter trail, presenting a more panoramic view, with a viewing tower at the end. I spent most of the waking jouney back to BA talking to Zamina and Marc, a couple from Toronto. Police stopped the coach three times and bought a dog on to sniff most peoples bags.

I had been planning on attending a football match all week, especially because it was such an interesting state of play in the league. The league season had finished, with three teams tying on points at the top of the table. This had not happened since the 1960s and so in order to find a winner, Boca Juniors, San Lorenzo and Tigre were playing each other. As I was coming back late into the hostel after lunch, an Argentine guy approached me and asked 'Futbol?' I said 'Si, si'. He and two accompanying girls were trying to tell me I was late and that I should hand them my rucksack. I guess you can tell what happened next. Halfway from giving him my bag, he snatched and ran towards the door. So off I went, racing after him. I caught him at the door, he dropped my bag and carried on running. Security quickly followed and managed to trip him up on the street. That bag had my passport and allsorts of electronic equipment, so I guess I was fortunate to have gotten it back, or stupid to have believed them in the first place! Slight credit for a crafty trick, although the run did my still painful ankle no good at all. I went upstairs to find the real football crowd and off we went to in the bus to Racing Stadium, on the southern edge of the city.

We arrived 3 hours before kick off, which seemed far too early. Over the next few hours we discovered why as the Boca terrace we were on began to fill. I suppose 'full' is an operative word as half an hour before kick off it became ridiculous, with people pushing and shoving. This was on a par with the mosh pit of a big concert. Constant cheering, Spanish football chanting and pointing. Argentines really do know how to cheer on their team - the atmosphere was intense. The San Lorenzo fans were at the other end of the stadium on the terraces. There was a huge number of seats inbetween (like a normal stadium) but with noone in them. The only conclusion we could draw was the fans were so aggressive that the relevant authorities believed it was best to keep them, packed in, at either end of the stadium! At half time we had to sit down as quickly as we could, to be able to gain a space to crouch for 15 minutes. Boca were the better team, even though their goalie let in an absolute howler. And by the end San Lorenzo became agitated and had two players sent off. Boca Juniors won 3-1. They needed to beat Tigre in three days time to clinch the league title.

The next few days I spent not doing very much, other than sorting a few temporary cash issues. I was due to meet Dave across the Ria De Plata, at Punta del Este in Uruguay. I took the ferry followed by a four hour bus. An elderly gentlemen called Adolfo, an Argentine dentist, sat next to me and proceeded to talk to me the whole way. Dave and I were once again reunited. I explained that the past week had been a real eye opener for me. Staying in hostel dorms really isn't as bad as we had feared. Taking long coach rides is more relaxing than anything else. And I met a tremendous amount of fellow travellers, more than for the whole of the previous seven weeks. So that week really changed my perception on travelling, for the positive of course!

Punta del Este is primarily a classy beach resort, set on a peninsular. Out of the door of our hotel and you could see the coastline in either direction. We spent a day on the baking hot beach. Typical englishman that I am meant I had a cold and wasn't feeling too clever that day - still not much of a beachbum! That evening it was Christmas Eve and there was a pretty impressive fireworks display, which looked brilliant looking across the bay and the outer districts of Punta. The video doesn't really do it justice! On a television I saw Boca Juniors had beaten Tigre 1-0 to clinch the league title.

Christmas Day wasn't particularly festive! I spent some more time on the beach, speaking and messaging family and friends, and in the evening we went out for a very decent meal by the sea. We packed up the next day and flew back to Buenos Aires, to arrive at Rancho Urbano, a large hostel with very few guests, and was greeted by a 42 year old american called Kirk, the so called 'concierge'. Kirk is an interesting character, mostly because of his varied experiences, which shouldn't really be available for viewing on the internet. Although he has had some trouble with police in the past, and is very keen on dance music and clubbing.

This time of year is supposed to be party season but we resisted Kirk's enthusiastic invitations to attend his free clubnights. We decided that Pacha Buenos Aires was worth a look, after Dave recognised the main DJ playing called Tarantella. We invited an English girl called Liz along. She suggested we go to Palmero, where you can sit outside all night on Plaza Serrano, drinking cheap red wine. We finally arrived at Pacha at around 4am. It is an abstract building but for those that know of the others, definitely follows the brand design. The music was superb and we stayed till it closed, around 8.30am. I arrived back at the hostel, woke up Kirk and he went off on his rollerblades, to the afterparty!

The next few days we spent milling around Buenos Aires. We had an excellent steak dinner in town, at a restaurant suggested by my coach friend Adolfo. We did the walking tour of Recoleta (the poshest part of the city) and visited the fascinating Recoleta cemetary. Argentines create proper monumental tombs for their dead. So instead of a grave, the dead are placed in a small stone house. The richer and more famous you are, the more elaborate tomb you command. Evita's grave is by far the most popular and you too can check it out in the photos. Dave and I also spent some time sorting out flights. We now have connections to Perth at no extra cost, and I will arrive on 17th February. Dave also had an extra flight, because the insurance company had flown him back and from England, so he chose to fly down to Rio Gallegos. I decided it was worth paying the same money as a flight, but to go on a coach and stop off at Puerto Madryn, close to Peninsular Valdes which is a nature reserve featuring penguins, seals, sea lions, dolphins and whales.

I was rather suprised to read on the internet that Argentinian´s tend to celebrate Christmas more than New Years Eve. But there was still plenty going on - we had various ideas for nightclubs but hadn´t booked anything. We spent midnight at the hostel, with Kirk´s DJ friend belting out trance tunes and nobody dancing. Then we went out to Palmero again with a crew from the hostel, including two canadian girls. A few hours went by easily but I became agitated that everybody seemed happy to carry on sitting. So, unable to persuade anyone else to a club, off I went again solo. Kirk had been almost constantly promoting his friend´s new years party, 40km north of Buenos Aires. Eventually I caught the party bus, along with a load of friendly and curious young Argentines; ´how did you find out about this, etc?´ We arrived at the rave and I was greeted by Liz and eventually Kirk. I spent most of the time with Liz and some Americans we met. The music was psy-trance which (for those that understand) I find ok but rather repetitive after a while. Still, we enjoyed ourselves and danced well into the morning! The bus back was rather tortuous though. Standing in the blazing morning sun, not knowing when it was going to turn up, followed by a few lung fulls of dust from the long track leading to the road, and then more sun. We made it back to Buenos Aires just before midday.

When we eventually arose a day and a half later, it was almost time for me to leave for Puerto Madryn. Dave and I went to La Boca, another distict of BA. We visited the Boca Stadium and looked around the not too special museum. I don´t how I manage to keep doing this (possibly Iles´ influence?) but we left Boca far too late and it was a real scramble to make the bus. I literally ran into the station as the bus was drawing out. What an adrenaline rush!

Sixteen hours later and I arrived in Puerto Madryn. I spent the first half of the day, investigating the best way to see all the amazing wildlife and then went to Eco Centro, an interactive museum that brilliantly presented information about the local wildlife. The 17km walk back along the beach with the sun setting was beautiful. The next day I was picked up by a small minibus. I had chosen the cheapest tour and it was fine, apart from the fact that everybody else spoke fluent Spanish! I could understand bits and pieces but because of my Eco Centro visit, it didn´t really matter, and it was summarised in English for me afterwards by some Americans.

We first stopped at Cetro de Interpretaction, another small museum with a looking tower offering a rather unimpressive view over the peninsular, down upon the scrub land. Patagonia is reknowned for being a huge mass of flat scrub land and virtual desert. And this can literally go on for hundreds of miles. So not very interesting scenery at all. This time we were fortunate that the peninsular is only 100km wide, but that still meant most of the day was spent travelling on the minibus. We first stopped off at Puerto Piramedes, where some people took a boat tour. This is a good option when whales are close to the peninsular, but sadly in January there are none, so I checked in at the hostel and chilled out on the gorgeous beach. Off we went on the minibus again to Caleta Valdes, where just over the cliff, you can see hundreds of Magellanic Penguins. They built nests, or burrows, in the side of the coastline. Next up was the Elephant Seals at Punta Cantor, who bask on the shoreline, sunning themselves and their pups, but hardly move at all. Finally we visited Punta Norte, where we viewed Sea Lions. The males are extremely aggressive and much larger than the females. They constantly compete and sometimes fight with each other for female attention. Seems the lady sea lions get the better deal! Watching all this wildlife in action was brilliant and well worth making the trip. That evening I stayed in Puerto Piramides and caught the bus back to Puerto Madryn this morning, where I´m now writing this blog.

I´m due to meet Dave in a hostel at El Calafate tomorrow, after another long bus ride. This is a glacial area, so this is the last of beach life for a little while. For those that care, my ankle is pretty much back up to speed. Although I´m still not too sure about doing the famous ´W´ five day hike. You´ll just have to wait and see!