The good, the bad, and the ugly

Are you sitting comfortably? Then I shall begin my last blog entry which I warn you now is a bit of a biggy! Prepare yourself for a rollercoaster ride of good times, bad times, romance, guns and partying...no wonder I am sleeping so much after such a crazy final 2 weeks!

Tango dancers in a pedestrianised street. I think I'll stick to Salsa!

Nicky and I had a nice time wandering around the shops and streets of Buenos Aires, choosing to pay little attention to the map and not worrying about whether we made it to all of the museums and sights. It's a beautiful city that we decided felt half European (like Paris with its old buildings and countless cafes) and half American (with its sky rise buildings). The docklands are gorgeous with their funky replica of the Sydney Opera House and you could spend days ooing and ahhing at the leafy plazas, man-on-a-horse statues and grand palacial mansions. It's a shame therefore that we found ourselves being held at gunpoint for Nicky's camera and wallet in the horrible area of La Boca. Recommended in the Lonely Planet and famous for the Boca Juniors Football Stadium and a colourful pedestrianised street, we didn't consider ourselves to be walking into such seriously grave danger, but even the 'safe' roads recommended by our hostel couldn't protect us from the watchful eyes of the desperate locals. It all happened so quickly yet so much was going through my mind. Shit he has a gun. Should I run away? No I should protect Nicky. But I have everything in my bag. They're going to start on me next. I'm going to lose everything. Should I shout for help? They're running away. We ran into the middle of the road to get a taxi and Nicky broke down into tears having lost all of her photos, her camera and her wallet. I wanted to cry but I also wanted to stay strong for her. We spent the next couple of hours being ferried between police stations in police cars (there was no way we were going anywhere unprotected, especially as they forced us to go back to a La Boca police station!) and sitting in those places was almost as bad as what had just happened. People were coming in to report robberies and one woman ran in huffing and puffing with cuts and blood all over her face. We were so glad to get back to our hostel that it didn't take long before we were dancing to drum and bass there and at a nightclub like a couple of mad girls on pills, celebrating the fact that we were alive. From that day, every time I left a hostel in Buenos Aires I was expecting to be robbed, which is such a shame because it is such a beautiful city with so many great things on offer.

Phil (my boyfriend) and Gareth (his friend from uni) arrived the next day and we took no time in introducing them to an Argentinian steak and the Buenos Aires nightlife. I hadn't seen Phil for 6 months so you can imagine how happy I was! They are on a year long trip, half of which will be spent travelling and half as volunteers developing a water system for an orphanage in the North of Bolivia. We spent a few days in Buenos Aires seeing some sights, playing/watching football and finishing many bottles of alcoholic beverages before catching a bus to Puerto Iguazu - our base for visiting the mind-blowing Iguazu Falls. Before this happy episode I did however suffer another spell of bad luck. Back in the sess pit that is Retiro bus station (remember the attempted stealing of the pink bag?) and fully aware by now of the dangers around us, our group of 6 (2 guys had joined Nicky, Phil, Gareth and I for our trip to the falls) thought we had the whole thing covered. We found an elevated spot in the station from which we could see the coaches arrive and thought we were doing a good job of looking prepared and vigilent. You have to remember however that the people out to get you in these places are professionals - this is what they do. When 3 of us were left watching the bags some men pulled a 'you've dropped your money' scam on us, distracting our attention for long enough to whip my small rucksack from behind me and make off with the goods. There is a silver lining to even the darkest of clouds - my passport, money, camera and MP3 player were in a different bag that I never lost. But the things that were stollen meant the world to me, especially my Moleskine diary which was a present from Phil and contained all of my thoughts and memories from Day 1 in Thailand, some of which I will never remember. Other diaries to which I had dedicated considerable time and effort, practical things that are annoying to lose and presents that I had bought for people were also lost, and the worst thing is that it was worth nothing to my thief, who probably dumped the bag only a few blocks away.

Our happy group of 6

By the following day I had accepted what had happened and was ready to enjoy our time in Puerto Iguazu. The hostel was more like a hotel with a huge communal area upstairs and a pool and social area at the front. We had booked a package deal from Buenos Aires which included one day seeing the falls from the Brazilian side (another stamp in the passport!), one exploring the park on the Argentinian side and a free bbq including free caipirinhas all night long (a sugarcane-based alcoholic cocktail). We partied through the first night with the Brazilian dancers and musicians, later making a very quick splash in the freezing cold pool (hats off to the skinny dippers!), then dragged ourselves out of bed for a day at the falls early the next morning. Unfortunately it was stormy the whole time we were there so my pictures aren't that great and we didn't see any rainbows, but the electrical thunder storms were incredible with lightning actually hitting the hostel several times!

It would be pointless for me to try to explain the enormity and grandeur of the falls in words, but suffice to say I have never been struck by a sight that made me stop in my tracks and stare quite so suddenly or with such impact. I was lost for words, and could have stood for hours listening to the thundering roar of the water and watching its continual pounding flow into the river miles below. The park is brilliantly arranged and we spent 2 amazing days seeing the hundreds of falls from all angles and various proximities, getting right into the thick (and wet!) of it in a speedboat on the second day. Three rivers converge at the meeting point of 3 countries to create this natural masterpiece, which is undeniably another of my favourite places in the world. Some crazy little animals and jungle walks topped off the experience - one that I will never forget.

It was sad to leave Nicky, Chris and Pete when Iguazu came to an end, and I wasn't looking forward to being back in Retiro bus station. Buenos Aires also spelled the end of my travelling and my time with Phil so there were lots of reasons not to want to go back. But we survived my last 24 hours there without any problems and at night Phil and I struck gold on the culinary front. I had read about a Japanese restaurant that we thought we couldn't find, when suddenly I noticed a discreet plaque engraved with Japanese writing on a building. We snuck around the corner to some sliding wooden doors which opened to reveal the cutest and smartest little restaurant I have ever seen, and the fact that it was so secret and hidden away made it all the more haven-like and special. We could even watch the football on the TVs opposite our chairs! We felt like such amateurs as they brought us what I now know is Japanese ommelette and hot flannels (we ate it with our fingers!) and some mismo soup (as we hadn't any spoons I asked the waiter how to eat it, to which he responded with a sipping motion...duh!). The sushi was first class and washed down with a pot of green tea I felt totally Japanese.

On leaving day I treated myself to a taxi to the airport and suffered a very uncomfortable 34 hours of being awake, before snuggling down into my own bed again for a nice long snooze. I was really looking forward to coming home but when I got here I started to miss my backpacker life, and I still really do. The rainy weather, slow (is it even moving?) pace of life and pile of things I had to deal with straight away (finances, insurance claim, car...) probably didn't help and now that I have got back in touch with some friends (including Ben and Jerry) and seen my Dad my spirits have lifted immensely. I'm even making some progresses on the career front (argh what a scarey word!) and hope to soon be moving into a place of my own to have a go at living in the Adult World.

I have no further plans to travel at the moment, but give me a few weeks sat behind an office desk and I might be singing a different song.

One word...STEAK

I had a great time in my first Argentinian city, Salta, in the North West of the country. I spent my time climbing the 1,070 steps (probably about 3,000 of my "shorty" paces) and 250 metres to the top of Cerro San Bernardo where some artisans, great views and religious statues and shrines awaited me, and wandering the pretty colonial streets. I was instantly struck by how rich Argentna is compared to the rest of my South American countries. Everyone dresses like theyre rolling in it, half of the cafes and restaurants are posh and there are even shops selling Gucci bags! Its still very affordable though, and Ive been picking up some delightful sweet treats and some out-of-this-world steaks to make the men among you buckle to your knees.

On my last day in Salta my reading was interrupted by a "Hello Miss Granville" from my English friend Nicky, and we spent the rest of the day together chilling in the Plaza and eating the best steak in the world, ever. It was huge, perfectly cooked, juicy, tasty, had not a milimitre of fat on it and the whole meal cost a tiny 3 pounds. Unfortunately we had booked buses for that night in opposite directions but we have hooked up again in Buenos Aires 5 days later. My bus took me to Resistencia, aka The City of Sculptures after the 300 or so works of art scattered around the pretty streets. Besides this there wasnt a lot else to see or do, the museums having all closed for renovations, and by now I was the only backpacker in sight, so I started a continuing habit of finding the perfect cup of coffee or tea and made a day trip to nearby Corrientes. Its much the same as Resistencia so I didnt hang around for long, but I met a sweet old man called Cesar who gave me a tour of his Museum of Artisans. He hardly speaks English and I hardly speak Spanish but we got along just fine, and he surprised me by asking if I was from Somerset! It turns out 2 other girls from the homeland had recently visited who he was keeping in touch with, and I have vowed to do the same.

The hole that is Santa Fe was my next stop but I quickly got the next bus to gorgeous Rosario, birth place of Che Guevara. I splashed out on a decent hotel (I was very much in need of cable at this point!) and spent a couple of days walking around the citys sights, drinking pots of tea and munching on medialunas (croissants to the less poetic amongst us). You may have heard a saying "Eat breakfast like a King, lunch like a Knight and dinner like a pauper"? The Argentinians choose to do it in reverse and I soon felt like I was causing offence by not complying and not having the staple medialuna for my breakfast!

Desperate for Nickys company again and some capital nightlife, I hot-wheeled it to Buenos Aires last night. The 80 platformed terminal welcomed me with open arms...that were reaching for and carried away your pink rucksack Mum! Luckily my shrill screaming and pounding feet were enough to make the guy drop it and run, and I am still in possession of all of my goods. He was working with a girl who was pretending to ask me a question while I put on my big bag, distracting my attention from my handbags on the floor. The irony is the rucksack contained a load of worthless crap and I ran away from my money, passport, plane tickets, camera and MP3 player which were in my other bag, but the girl had scarpered before she realised this and somebody honest was watching it for me. How is it that people who try to mug me always fail?!

Nicky and I went wandering around our boho district of San Telmo last night and her obsession with food is already having a bad influence on me. She talked me into having a steak sandwich despite my having already eaten (and were not talking a few slithers of meat between 2 slices of bread here, I mean a really massive whole marinaded steak bursting out of a fresh panini!) and is suggesting a tried and tested tiramisu for breakfast. I may have to forgoe the fried breakfast I have been craving and was going to ask for when I get home! Failing to find any Tango we sat with some artesans and their musical instruments in a Plaza drinking some fine Argentinian wine, and I may have promised to play Alis violin tonight at gathering number 2. Today we will probably go sight seeing and I am in desperate need of some nice new clothes. All of these self-confessed snobby Argentinians are making me feel scruffy!