Roast pork rolls

At a first glance, Lima is not nice at all. Especially driving in; had we flown in, perhaps I'd have had a different opinion. It's one of those sprawling metropolises with no beginning and no end, dusty and polluted. We went through several slums on the way in, in two occasions people tried to assault our big yellow truck. To be honest, I didn't know what to feel in those moments. Should poverty be an excuse for crime? Would my D200 be put to a better use had the attempted theft in Quito succeeded? Personally, I disagree. But at the same time, a big yellow truck full of gringos may indeed feel like a golden goose for those Limenos living in the slums.





We arrived in Lima to find ourselves in the middle of a religious festival. During the first weekend of October, Lima hosts the celebrations for the Senor de los Milagros (Lord of the Miracles), Lima's saint patron. Celebrations continue throughout October. Because of the purple robes and decorations adorning the city for this celebration, October is known as the mes morado (purple month). Our hotel was right on one of the streets the procession went through. Groups of men were carrying the heavy statue and other images of the Lord of the Miracles, whilst women chanted and waved frankincense. People threw rose petals as the sacred image passed under the balconies and windows of houses. The whole experience felt sacred and uplifting. It reminded me of my childhood, of the day of the saint patron in Arenzano, where I used to spend the summer with my family. That day, July 28th, was the highlight of my summer for years. I was allowed to eat plenty of sweets, and go to see the procession in the evening. I always marvelled at those men carrying the heavy crucifixes and images of saints. But the best were the fireworks at midnight. Looking at those magic patterns and flames in the sky I remember thinking I wanted to see the world.





After two days sightseeing in Lima, I changed my mind about the place. The city retained a certain aura of fascination, a faded elegance typical of those places whose moment of grandeur is well and truly gone. It reminded me of Casablanca. It was interesting to be there in the month of October, to witness a display of devotion that is becoming harder to find in our old Europe. In a courtyard near St Francis of Assisi's church there was a small food market, selling local food specialties. Alongside several types of sweets we were able to sample some roast pork rolls, on sale for 1 sol each (30 US dollar cent). Needless to say, we had 3 each. The pork was wonderfully moist, served with chilli and onions like ceviche. Peruvian food was wonderful, thus far. Wonder what the rest of Peru was going to offer.

The first Inca Kola and Ceviche Peruano

After visiting the beautiful colonial city of Cuenca we headed towards the Ecuador-Peru border. We planned to spend a few days relaxing on the beach whilst making our way down to Lima where we were going to pick up some new overlanders. All was going well, the group was getting along amazingly. As a former psychology student I found interesting the fact that a newly-formed group could form a group identity in such a short time. I guess it's a matter of circumstances as well as the fact that we were all there for a common purpose. Personally I felt really pleased with the overlanding experience; a good surprise, considering that i expected to hate it, and I thought I would have considered the truck as a mean to get fro A to B rather than a 'common space' for the group, the place where we got together and got to know each other.

Peru looked completely different from Ecuador since the beginning. Gone were the verdant mountains and valleys, Peru was barren and dusty. The north of the country was incredibly dreary, a flat expanse of sandy desert and rocky terrain. Gone were the 'ooh' and 'aah' of amazement around every bend whilst driving. And how about Peruvians? After spending a month in Ecuador we kept hearing bad things about Peruvians, that they were dodgy thieves and so on. Indeed in Quito we were mugged by two Peruvians. Why this animosity? I guess partly it's due to the Peruvian-Ecuadorian war in the 1940s, or maybe it's just heritage of the continuous bickering that happens between two neighbouring countries, such as France and England? I wouldn't know to be honest.

In my opinion, I felt welcome both in Peru and Ecuador. Although, I have to say, not as welcome as in Brazil or Argentina. In the South American west I felt like a 'gringa', a foreigner. Not that I expected to be treated like a local, but at times I felt locals considered tourists merely as a source of income, rather than genuinely wanting to make them feel welcome. However, this was only my experience in a handful of occasions, by no means do I wish to generalise this statement to the whole of these two countries. If I was to find differences between Peru and Ecuador, I'd probably say Ecuadorians are far more Americanised. It may be due to the fact that Ecuador uses the US dollar as a local currency, ot to the fact that many Ecuadorians I spoke to spent some of their formative years in the States. The fact is, most Ecuadorians I met saw the USA as the model to follow. Conversely, Peruvians seemed more disillusioned about politics, thinking all politicians are corrupt anyway. Maybe the Fujimori decade is the reason for that? Once again, I can't tell.

On a different note, the time spent on the beach in the north of Peru was really enjoyable. We camped on the beach in the tiny village of Punta Sal, near Mancora. There's something special about sleeping on the beach, under the stars, and waking up every morning to jump in the sea. I was finally able to try the original ceviche, not the Ecuadorian rip-off (according to Peruvians, I still thought it was nice). I have to say, the Peruvian version is far superior. You get a plateful of fish, not a bowl of soup. The fish is marinated in lime juice and served ultra-fresh topped with chillies and onions, with an accompaniment of sweet potatoes annd corn. A dish that I will try to introduce to introduce my family to. Will it work in the north of Italy ass well as it did in the north of Peru?

At the border city of Tumbes I had my first encounter with the drink that was going to be defining my time in Peru. Inca Kola is a bright yellow soft drink, incredibly sweet and full of caffeine. I don't know how to describe the taste; some say it's like bubblegum, others compare it to creaming soda. For me it's just Inca Kola, a godsend for hangovers, heat and altitude. I bough my first one right on the border, with my last dollar coins. And my last one? Bought on the Peru-Bolivia border, I carried it through Bolivia, Argentina, Chile and New Zealand, and I drank it on Christmas Day. It didn't feel right though. we weren't in Peru.

Homemade Falafels

Our second-last stop in Ecuador was Banos, a small town nested in a verdant valley surrounded by active volcanoes. Banos is popular with backpackers and globetrotters as Ecuador's adventure-sport capital. Not being keen on adventure sports, I was looking forward to it as a time for relaxing and hiking in the beautiful surroundings. We stayed in a campsite called Pequeno Paraiso just outside Banos, run by two expatriates and offering treats such as cookies, chocolate cake and homemade ice-cream alongside the usual booze selection.



By then we got to know quite a bit more about our travelling companions. Everybody was travelling for different reasons, but the underlying motive was a genuine love for our planet, a willingness to explore and discover. Camping allowed us to get together even more, as we were expected to cook in groups and clean after our dinner. We had some wonderful meals: home made pizza, curries, Mexican burritos and a legendary seafood barbecue amongst others. We also had an outstanding guide, Rachel. Before joining the trip I was concerned of finding myself in a group with a young, patronising guide who knew little Spanish and little about the place; this is what happened to Nick during his previous overlanding experience. Rachel was fantastic, really knowledgeable and friendly, never patronising. Little did I know then that we were going to become good friends.



In Banos amyriad of activities were on offer; from horse riding to bridge swinging, canyoning and whitewater rafting. Some of our group opted to try canyoning, essentially an activity whose main task is to descend a river, jumping off waterfalls, abseiling and floating. The $ 45 price tag and the fact that the weather was cold and miserable were enough to dissuade me. So we headed off for a spot of hiking. First we visited the Pailon del Diablo waterfall, which was impressing but dwarfed by my memory of Iguazu. I liked the fact that a small path allowed the visitor to scramble up the rocks to a platform which was at the top of the fall. Afterwards, Nick and I plus another guy named Terry decided to go for a hike in the afternoon.



Our driver Brendan had suggested us an intersting walk. It involved crossing the valley by cable car to the other side, walking to the following cable car and coming back. Around 3pm we took the first cable car. The view was thrilling yet terrifying; the cable car was powered by a truck engine, with gears and all. As it took off it sped up to breakneck spped, then ground to a halt about 5 inches from the rock face in front. The three of us took the first path we saw; a trail called Sendero de los Contrabanderos (Smugglers' Path). The trail snaked up the mountain side, allowing views which got more spectacular with every switchback. We passed men and women on donkeys carrying bails of hay. The trail went up, and up. At one point we estimated we had gone up in the vicinity of 1000 m from our departure. The trail was still going up, and we could see no cable cars going to the other side. It was getting close to 5, and we had a problem.



The problem lies in the fact that Ecuador lies on the Equator, hence its name. As such, the sun rises at 6 am and sets at 6pm all year long. Another characteristic of being in the vicinity of the Equator is that twilight is extremely short; less than half an hour after sunset and it's pitch black. Nothing like the late June twilight in London which lasts for hours, followed by a brief night only to turn into dawn again. That left us with about one hour and a half to find the cable car and cross, or face a night on the trail, as we had no lights and the vertical drop on our side was something we didn't wish to experience. There was no one to ask and we found ourselves in the walker conundrum: keep going or go back? As most reckless walkers do, we kept going.



Eventually we got to a small farmhouse perched on top of a pass and inhabited by local Quichua indios. Their knowledge of Spanish was limited, mine of Quechua was non existent. I asked for directions to the cable car and the wife offered to show us the way, or so i thought. We set off trying to keep up with her, she was almost skipping and running down the mountain. She was small and nimble, and her walk reminded us of a goat; hence we nicknamed her the 'goat spirit'. By then I was terrified. It was getting darker every minute and there was still no cable car in sight. Plus we had failed in our task to keep up with the goat spirit, although she probably had no intention of showing us the cable car but was just going off for her own business. As our paths crossed again about 10 minutes later and we saw her clutching a bucket of water, I realised the previous statement was probably right.



Shortly after 6 o'clock we saw a tiny line down across the valley in the distance. Thinking it was the cable car, we scrambled down the mountain to reach that beacon of hope before total darkness enveloped us. And we were right! We had to interrupt the operator from his dinner to drive us across, but we were safe. We walked another few kilometres to the campsite, savouring the delicious dinner of homemade falafels that awaited us and laughing about the day's adventures. It's amazing how something scary can become a beautiful memory once it's solved. And the falafels were delicious indeed.

Baked tilapia in banana leaves

As the middle of September came we got ready to start the second part of our South American adventure: overlanding from Quito to Santiago. Not many people knew; I was rather ashamed of ruining my image of fearless traveller by signing up to a semi-organized trip. We decided to go overlanding because Nick did it in the past and loved it. I was not keen on overlanding originally; I expected to find myself in a truck full of 18 to 21-year-olds, interested only in getting drunk and 'ticking boxes'. Those people I call 'shopping list travellers', who quickly move from country to country to see the main sights and boast to their friends back home 'I did 56 countries'; as travelling in this way was some sort of life-enriching experience. Whatever. I approached the meeting room of a dingy Quito hotel still clutching my laundry and feeling rather concerned. Would I enjoy two months between Ecuador and Chile if my travel companions were not of my liking?

I felt relieved as soon as I saw the crowd. First of all, the mean age of the group was higher than I expected. Also, talking to some during the rest of the evening I discovered that they weere more similar to me than I thought they would be. So, why people go overlanding? Overlanding is a way of travelling that ranges somewhere between independent and organised trip. The fees paid cover accommodation and transport, plus some meals and activities. Accommodation is usually camping or basic hotels, transport is on a purpose-built truck. In my opinion, people choose overlanding for two main reasons; ease of transportation and desire to meet new people. The appeal lies in the fact that overlanders are usually young, between 20 and 40 years of age; many are singles. Overlanding allows freedom, far from the constrictons of an all-inclusive trip. So far so good, I thought, after meeting the 16 people I was going to live with for the next 2 months.

After two days visiting the Otavalo market and Papallacta hot springs, we headed back into the Amazon. As we got to the lodge, us and another couple who visited the Amazon previously were really disappointed. There was no need to spend hours on a canoe or the back of a truck, the lodge was only one hour plus a short trip downriver from the nearest town. The forest was what disappointed us the most. There was no thich blanket of vegetation such as the one we found in Shiripuno, no feeling to be nested in the heart of nature. It felt more like a house in the country. I felt the place was chosen to allow overlanders to tick 'Amazon' off their list.

My first opinion wasn't entirely right. Yes, the lodge was only 1 hour from Tena. Yes, it was secondary rather than primary rainforest, suggesting that a certain degree of deforestation had taken place. Yes, the owner Tom said tht we were unlikely to see any wildlife. However, the place was beautiful. The lodge and cabins were entirely built in wood, unlike Shiripuno where cabins were open on the sides. The whole lodge was solar-powered, and was promoting a programme of environmental awareness with the local communities. The first target was educating indigenous communities to stop dynamite-fishing. The owner, Tom, was a middle-aged American who fell in love with Ecuador and decided to call this place home. He was extremely concerned with the environment, having built three dams to restore endangered river wildlife such as piranha and turtles. And Mona, Tom's pet Wooli monkey, was our mascot throughout our stay.

Tom was a really interesting character. I always appreciate the company of people who decide to change at some point in their lives. Might be moving somewhere exotic, travelling or changing careers, I like people who are not afraid. Unfortunately, many friends of mine are stuck in a suburban pay-the-mortgage lifestyle. Many want to travel but think it's too late for them, with the car and the house and the kids and the bills. Why not, I say. Why limiting your possibilities to the first job you get, or the first place you move to. Why thinking that once you start life down a certain path, you can't change it. I travel because I don't know where I want to leave or what I want to do. I write to give a voice to my thoughts. I may be wrong, but now I'm happy.

Days were spent lazying on the lodge, playing cards, tubing down the river and visiting the forest. Although we didn't see much in terms of wildlife, it was a good time to relax and bond with the newly-formed group. Mona kept frolicking around us, teasing the boys to play with her and refusing to play with the girls. The food was out of this world, perhaps the best during our stay in South America. What will remain in my heart was a fantastic baked tilapia in banana leaves, with banana flower and rice. It was delicious. Two days into our overland trip, I had already dropped the prejudices I had about overlanding, and I was sure I was going to have a great time.

Ceviche Ecuatoriano

We visited Quito in instalments; three days, than one, than two more. It was a place for 'highs'; first and foremost meant as altitude, as the city lies at 2800 m. For me it was also the first Andean town (without considering Salta or the Argentinean villages). I was looking forward to immersing myself in the culture of the western side of South America, which we were going to travel down to Santiago over the next two months. The city's layout was spectacular; in a narrow valley surrounded by mountains, with a colonial district on the south end and a 'new town' on the northern end. Dizzy from altitude sickness, on our first day we visited plazas and churches, ate local ice-cream and climbed the Panecillo hill which allows magnificent views of the old town. I really wanted to try ceviche, a Peruvian specialty made with raw fish marinated in citrus juice, which was also offered in Ecuador. I asked around, and locals pointed me to Cevicheria Ruminhaui.

Having ceviche for dinner was out of the question; given the fact that seafood is raw, only the catch of the day is used, and respectable cevicherias close after lunch. So we kept the option for lunch on the following day. I was really excited by this, and on the following day we set off for Ruminhaui on a high. We were less than a block away when Nick was tapped on the shoulder by two middle-aged men. 'Palomita, palomita' they said, meaning we were covered in pigeon poo. The 'poo' suspiciously looked like mayonnaise to me, and I had heard enough about this scam to realize that the men were trying to part us with our belongings, including the D200 which was stupidly dangling on my neck. So we kept walking, soon we were in front of the cevicheria we were bound to, and we entered looking for safety. We made for the toilet, where a concerned-looking man was pointing us to. Once we entered we had two people all over us, and the D200 disappeared.

I felt like I swallowed a black hole. That camera was our wedding present, the reason Nick decided to get into photography. He was absolutely furious at me for letting it out of my sight. Luckily, we realised quickly and went on the chase. To this day, I do not know how we managed to keep up and find the men running with our camera. I ran with my heart pounding, in the state of shock that follows a crime, part of myself still coming to terms with what happened. Things happened so quickly I was struggling to keep up; I wanted to scream to stop the time. Whilst running, we were pointed to the right direction by some locals and found ourselves chasing the man closely down a courtyard. He saw we would have caught him, and dropped the camera. At the same time, the police appeared and arrested the man and his accomplice. Holding tightly my camera I followed the policemen to a shop where they sat the culprits down and gave them a good talking to. In the meanwhile they asked me to tell what happened. I was still so scared and relieved at the same time that I couldn't speak. The thieves kept saying it wasn't their fault, it was a misunderstanding. One of them was still clutching the packet of sauce he squirted on us. I shouted him he was a liar, I felt like punching him, and punching myself for allowing this to happen.

Then, the police station. It was a dark shop-front with stairs leading onto a basement. By then the adrenaline in me was running out; I felt broken, I just wanted to go back to our hotel and spend the rest of the day in bed. The policemen said that if we wanted to press charges, we had to leave the camera in custody for 24 hours as evidence. The day after we were meant to leave for the Galapagos, so we refused. As I said that, I saw a whip being led down to the basement, and I heard thumps and screams. The thieves were being tortured. I felt a rush of guilt overtaking me, and I started to sob. I just wanted to get there as quickly as possible. The police insisted I pressed charges, I kept refusing. They said I was free to go. As soon as we got out of the police station I felt immensely relieved, and remember we were going to have ceviche for lunch.

We went back to Ruminhaui, where I ordered a ceviche mixto. Having never had ceviche before, I didn't know what to expect. What I got was a cold fish soup, with nuggets of the ubiquitous white fish called corvina, prawns and concha negra (black mussels). Floating in the soup, which tasted like watery, tangy tomato, were picled onions and tomato pieces. All was accompanied with popcorn, fried corn and fried plantain. It was delicious and filling. Surely it tasted even better because the D200 was safe in my bag...

Home-cooked food in the Ecuadorian Amazon

Five days in the heart of the Ecuadorian Amazon completed our wildlife full-immersion. Unlike the Galapagos, which were planned for ages, the decision of visiting the Amazon was last-minute. We chose to visit Shiripuno Lodge, situated in the Yasuni National Park. Indeed it was a good choice. Remember when I said about travelling being as important as the destination itself? This held particular significance in this case, as getting to the lodge was part of the experience. We flew to Coca, gateway to the Amazon, early in the morning. Coca looked like a very interesting place to explore, unfortunately we had only a few hours. What looked like a dusty frontier town suddenly became alive in the market, where colorful fruits and exotic meats such as armadillo were on offer. From Coca we travelled three hours on the back of a truck to a bridge where we were going to board a canoe to go downriver. But before, we had a medical checkup to be sure we weren't affected by swine flu and a briefing, as we were entering indigenous territory. I left the briefing rather scared; we were told of the danger of uncontacted tribes who have been known for killing people, especially timber and oil workers. Then, the canoe. I expected some sort of seating or shelter, we had neither. We travelled downriver for 6 hours, three under the blazing sun, three under a torrential rainstorm.

However, when we arrived we soon realised it was worth every minute of the arduous trip. There were only four guests in the lodge; the two of us and two French girls. Plus two guides, the cook, the waiter and the canoe driver. That's it, it was only us and the indigenous village halfway between our lodge and the bridge; the closest place otherwise was Coca, a day's travel away. One may expect a place like this to be silent at night; it was the opposite. Frogs, crickets and other nocturnal animals filled the air with their sounds. And with the absence of any background noise, the sensation of being immersed with nature was total. We trekked in the forest for three days, finding spider, capuchin and wooli monkeys. At sunset we swam in the river looking at macaws and toucans flying over us. During night treks we marvelled at the sight of poisonous frogs, scorpion spiders and tarantulas.

There is nowhere else on earth that can be compared to the Amazon. The nature didn't give me a feeling of balance and equilibrium, such as it was in the Galapagos. Rather, it was overwhelming. The greens were greener than elsewhere, the light shining through the trees was so scarce that at times it was hard to tell what time of the day and what weather it was. It felt like a place where men aren't welcome, where wildlife rules and men should only look and tiptoe. The humidity and heat when hiking were overbearing. And when it rained, it poured.
One day we trekked for hours to a salt lick, essentially a muddy, swampy field whose mud contained salts. We had to be silent for hours, to make ourselves invisible to the wildlife. Finally, swarms of parakeets arrived to lick the salt in the mud. First they came in pairs, then by the tens and hundreds. The bright colours of their feathers and the flutter of their wings was eerie in the stillness of midday in the forest.

Another day, we were trekking to a lookout when we heard calls of distress. It was a jaguar hunting monkeys. We couldn't see it, but the screams were piercing. We continued on our trail and found tracks of peccaries, a type of wild pigs. Once again we tried to follow them, hoping to catch a glimpse. From walking slowly we started to walk more briskly, then we ran; I got lost for a few minutes. I was absolutely terrified, thinking I would've never been found again. Nick was the only one to run fast enough to catch up with the pigs. After a full day of activities, we went back to the lodge were Dona Nelsy cooked our meals. The food was delicious and all homemade; vegetable soups with popcorn, plantain empanadas, freshwater fish and mashed corn. With an icy cold beer, it was the ideal ending to the day.

Galapagos. No food this time.

After a day flying from one side to the other of South America, one day battling with altitude sickness and one where we had a bad adventure (watch this space for more on this subject!), we found ourselves on another flight to the Galapagos Islands. Now, this has to be one of the most memorable and unique places on earth, especially for a wildlife photographer such as Nick. I'm sure everybody has heard about the Galapagos in relation to Charles Darwin and his book The Origin of Species, so rather than boring you with historical details I will go straight to talking about our experience there.

I knew Galapagos were famous for the abundant wildlife, and for the fact that some animals found there are not found anywhere else on earth. But nothing could prepare me to what we were going to find. As soon as we got off the plane and were ferried to the dock, we saw three sea lions snoozing on a bench, a couple of marine iguanas wandering around and blue footed boobies divebombing in the distance. And we hadn't boarded the boat yet! The best way to see the Galapagos is on a cruise, as the islands are quite far from one to the other. One of the features which makes the archipelago remarkable is the fact that each island is unique, both in landscape and wildlife. We opted for a eight night cruise, which allowed us to see all the island in the eastern part of the archipelago.

The boat, MV Darwin, was small and compact, allowing us to spend time with the rest of the guests and the crew. The guide Maria was a marine biologist who had over 25 years experience as a guide in the Galapagos, and even had a PhD on the behaviour of sea lions. We couldn't possibly hope for a better guide, both in terms of knowledge and friendliness. The rest of the guests were mainly Australian and Kiwi, with the exception of an American and a Swiss. Wehad in common the love for wildlife and the enthusiasm of discovering one of the most exciting places on Earth. We spent 8 days swimming, snorkelling and visiting the islands, each time finding something different around the corner. I didn't expect snorkelling to be such a big part of a Galapagos experience; every day we snorkelled at least twice, playing with sea lions was unforgettable. Sea lions are abundant throughout the archipelago, both above and under water. they are beautiful and curious creatures, who do not fear approaching humans and swimming around them. I did a forward roll and a backflip underwater, and they kept copying me. Bonding with animals in their natural habitat filled me with joy.

Although we swam with dozens of sea lions, we had no luck in finding sea turtles for the first few days, until one morning Maria woke us up at 6 to go snorkelling. Seeing turtles underwater was my highlight of the trip. They are enormous, over a metre in length. I was able to get closee enough to look at one in the eyes; they seemed so ancient to me. It made me think of the relationship between man and environment in the Galapagos, how humans should tread lightly in this fragile ecosystem which supported the development of wildlife for millions of years.

The Galapagos are as amazing underwater as they are above. the islands are all different, from Rabida with its red beaches to Santiago which offers fields of solidified lava. As a general rule, I found the southern islands to be have more abundant wildlife, and the northern islands to have better landscape and snorkelling. On our last day we even saw 5 white tipped sharks! Birds and reptiles are another highlight of the Galapagos; we saw thousands of blue-footed boobies and fregate birds with their characteristic red puffed neck used to attract females. We were able to see marine iguanas underwater and land iguanas on the beaches; but the most breathtaking for me was the sight of giant tortoises. We found them grazing in a field, in the highlands of Santa Cruz island. I felt minuscule and ephemeral next to this timeless creatures. If sea turtles were ancient, giant tortoises seemed eternal.

The best steaks in BA

Back in Buenos Aires I felt relieved. As I hinted in the Sao Paulo blogpost, I feel very much at ease in big cities. You can imagine I was more than happy to spend a little over a week in Argentina's capital. And indeed, I wasn't disappointed. BA is a fantastic city, maybe the best we visited so far. The city has a distinctive European atmosphere; with Parisian boulevards and airy plazas. But once again, I am not here to bore you with 'been there, done that'. I have many stories to tell about BA, certainly one blogspot is not enough. So I have to be selective, and I will talk about our gastronomic adventures in the steak capital of the world.

When visiting a country which is famous for a certain type of food, one might find oneself in a risky situation. Say Italy and pizza, for example. A tourist visiting Italy might be led to believe that the most glorious pizza can be found on every street corner. Unfortunately, this is not the case. The tourist industry has been exploiting culinary exports for ages to promote the international image of a country; with the result that pavement cafes are more likely to serve a dreadful pizza than a good one, thinking tourists don't know better. Steaks in BA meet the same fate. Strolling down Avenida Florida, the main touristy thoroughfare, a passerby is bombarded by hawkers handing out leaflets.... parrillada, tango show, gaucho show and so on. With the risk that the gullible tourist might soon find himself chewing on a piece of old boot, surrounded by tour bus groups. So, how would one find a decent steak in Argentina's capital?

In my experience, I believe two tools to be particularly useful. The first one is research. Scan guidebooks and search the net, look at blogs and forums, and see what comes up. NEVER EVER follow the hawkers. An establishment which has to resort to paying individuals for attracting clients surely won't offer good fare. Doesn't matter if they have parrillada libre for 30 pesos and free wine, chances are quality will be very poor. The second secret is asking around. For example, a restaurant who has been revered on the net may change hands the week previous to one's visit and become bad. Asking around prevents from falling into this trap. We were lucky enough to be given good advice, and found two great restaurants.

Funnily enough, the first one was on Lavalle, very close to Florida, proof that good restaurants can be found even in touristy areas. Besides the tip off, two signs were promising; the absence of hawkers and the fact that the restaurant has been open since 1962. The name is La Estancia, the address Lavalle 941. The main room is very touristy, with lambs on spits, open-air barbecue and gaucho clad waiters. The fare was simply outstanding. We all had meat; I shared a 1.5kg T-bone steak with Dad, whilst Mum had fillet. The T-bone was delicious, grilled jugoso (rare) just as I like it. The barbecue gave it a nice crust on either side, the middle was melt-in-the-mouth and flavoursome. Nick had the star dish of Argentinean steakhouses: the parrillada, essentially a mixed grill of pretty much anything. There was beef, pork, lamb, chicken, sausage and morcilla (black pudding). What caught my attention was that offal was also offered on the parrillada; sweetbreads, liver and chinchulines (intestines). Given the size of the servings, any side dish would have been absolutely redundant. The service was old-school, that type of service that is becoming a rarity in Europe and Australia. Waiters were middle-aged, all men, and really knew what they were doing. A good change from the scores of teenagers on gap-year and working holidays.

The second restaurant I would like to suggest is La Cabrera, on Cabrera 5099 in the leafy neighbourhood of Palermo. The atmosphere is completely different from la Estancia; the room is dark with candles on tables, service more discrete and the clientele was mainly local. Under suggestion from the waiter we ordered only one steak to share. Excellent advice, as the steaks weigh in excess of 500g and come with a variety of side dishes to share. We chose the bife de chorizo, a huge hunk of sirloin which was more than enough for two. The meat was, once again, memorable. It was slightly tougher than the steak at La Estancia, but more flavoursome. The side dishes were also a perfect accompaniment, coming in small servings to provide respite from all that meat. I can remember sundried tomatoes, beetroots, roasted butternut squash, corn and potato salad, plus a variety of sauces. And even better, we were given a bottle of wine for free!

I could be here forever talking about a secret dinner in Recoleta, our day trip to Uruguay or the gaucho fair Feria de Mataderos. However, we have to move on to Ecuador, where many more adventures await us. Unless you are interested in knowing more about BA.... let me know, and I'll be happy to oblige.