Here we are at last.

Buenos Aires will take your breath away, probably with fear of the crazy drivers, or the fact that you will get horribly lost in its rabbit warreny streets (like we did last night....) The drive to the city exposed Buenos Aires vast slum and ghetto area: It makes one feel incredibly lucky to be living in New Zealand. The motorways into Buenos Aires are not to be trifled with. We spotted a crazy van pumping Spanish techno with louts hanging out the doors and waving argentinan flags, travelling at about 100km per hour.

The flight across the Pacific with Aerolineas Argentinas was charming and the time passed fairly due to consumption of vino tinto. Note to self: Do not think that a Spanish phrase book will allow you to get by in Latin America. I asked for an orange juice in Spain Spanish and was given funny looks. Then the man sitting next to me whispered `The word for orange juice is different in Latin America. The language changed because we don`t like the Spanish.`

We found ourselves perplexed at why we had to declare our cellphones, it seemed bazarre, but the Chilean man sitting next to us explained that there is a large cellphone smuggling problem in Argentina. Quarantine was basically non existent in BA airport, and the forms we filled out on the plane never got checked. As we trollied our luggage outside, taxi drivers swarmed around us and tried to grab it, but it was nothing a persistent yelp of NO couldn"t handle.

Last night the three of us decided to go for an explore around San Telmo. San Telmo is like a grungy Paris, and the rest of Buenos Aires is like a dilapidated, but spunky New York. The streets are very narrow and cobble stoned.

Needless to say we ended up getting incredibly lost because we decided to take Peter for his first ride on the subway (Subte), but eventually our desperate pleas for directions from the locals were answered. Many escalators to the subway are made of wood, it`s like riding an antique thing underground.

Each bar or restaurant we walked past looked spooky because there were hordes of people inside staring fixated at the soccer match on TV, not laughing or joking around, just staring in solemn fixated silence.

Hardly anyone speaks English here, which is a real culture shock. I am rapidly brushing up on beginners Spanish so I can keep my head above water.

Two words describe Buenos Aires. Steak. Soccer.

Hasta luego,
Brittany