Buenas Noches Buenos Aires

Megan being Megan the next night, of course, was Tango class. Before displaying our twinkling toes to BA however we decided to explore one more nighbourhood of this fantastic city and headed to La Boca - home of the famous Boca Juniors football team. La Boca is one of the poorer nighbourhoods and the graffitti'd streets and rundown buildings were a reminder that not every area of this city has a New York equivalent. The grittier atmosphere really didn't need emphasizing but as we walked down the main highway one local resident nevertheless took it upon themselves to remind us exactly where we were. I've had the misfortune of being crapped on by a bird several times and while that initially mystifying splatter is never pleasent this incident really set a new bar. Absent evidence of a coordinated attack I can only assume that one sick, sick avian was responsible for the thorough dousing that left both Megan and me gasping and every item of clothing we were wearing covered in a goopy pebbledashing that scattered our fellow pedestrians. Eventually one brave woman, crossing herself profusely and clenching her nose tightly, chanced her way across to us with tissues and water in hand and we made a token attempt too clean ourselves off. While her kindness further confirmed our impression that porteños are an unusually friendly bunch a shower was now an unavoidable prelude to the dance class so we made short work of the famously colourful La Boca market and headed home.

Even I have to admit to being quite taken with the Tango which, compared to the Salsa classes we elbowed and kneeded our way through last Summer, seems a very natural dance and dare I say it quite sexy. Our class did not start well with me displaying an incredible inability to walk in any way other than left, right, left, right but in time we managed a passable square and even a couple of more advanced moves:

The next day should have had us exploring the famous San Telmo antiques market but unfortunately the weather turned and we instead spent most of the day hiding from the rain in the warm interior of a local pub. Eventually however the time came for us to hoist our bags and head for the subway on the first leg of our 19 hour journey to Puerto Iguazu - the gateway to the Iguazu falls.

After our experience in India the prospect of 18 hours on a bus was not particularly appealing but it turns out that Argentine buses are actually great. Even the cheap seats are about the size of a lazy-boy, the services seem to be very punctual and the food, if uniformly white and bread-based is abundant. The clincher for us was probably when our waist-coated server asked if we cared for some wine with our dinner! It's sad but on this sample I would have to rate South American long-haul bus services as far more pleasant than most domestic US airlines.

After a lazy afternoon in the remarkably unremarkable Puerto Iguazu we got up bright and early for our carefully planned trip to the falls themselves. Google hasn't been much help in quantifying exactly why these falls are so amazing (they're definitely not the tallest), but it was immediately clear why they top most lists of the world's best. We started our tour by walking over a kilometer on wooden gangplanks set above increasingly rapid water until we were standing above the terrifying "Devil's Throat." The sound was indescribable and the volume of water disappearing into the cauldron below us simply remarkable.

From there we headed first to the 'Upper Trail' which afforded us spectacular views of some of the other 247 cascades and then to the 'Lower Trail' which did much the same thing but with more soaking.

After the falls themselves (and sharing the park with "The Teenagers" who, a breathless Argentinian girl that had taken a momentary break from screaming informed us, are a band and actors), the highlight of the trip was the wildlife. The falls are set in dense rainforest and we were surounded by beautiful birds throughout our visit. Jaguars are also apparently native but the only mammals we saw were the coatis. These look much like a cat-sized anteater and they had no fear of humans whatsoever (that apple was dropped by an unsuspecting Italian woman about four seconds before this photo was taken):

That evening a timely email from our wedding-reader Kate reminded us that we really hadn't been pushing our meat consumption to the levels Argentina demands so we took up the challenge of a local restaurant's grill for two and were not disappointed. When the spitting griddle arrived at our table it contained: 1/2 a chicken, a steak that I would estimate as being around 20 oz, 2 huge chorizo sausages, 1 equally oversize blood sausage, 4 kidneys, several chitterlings, 4 tripe strips, 2 sets of 3 short ribs and two pork chops. Yes we did. And we had flan. With dulce de leche.

From Iguazu we made the long trip back to Buenos Aires for a frantic day of clothes washing, haircuts, Evita museum touring and handbag buying (yay) to ensure we were adequately prepared for Brazil - suddenly our penultimate country. Argentina has definitely given Vietnam a run for its money as our favorite stop on this trip. Sadly, given the economic tribulations the country has been through, the comparative strength of the dollar is a big part of that but it is not the only factor. The lifestyle and culture of Buenos Aires in particular are extremely appealing and everyone we have interacted with has left a favorable impression. How can you fail to love a country where, if you buy a bottle of wine at the supermarket the cashier will offer to open it for you?