* The highlight of our Argentinian holiday isn't even in Argentina - it's in Uruguay. Colonia is a one-hour skip across the Rio de la Plata. Idyllic getaway with cobblestones, fabulous pasta, swimming pools and secret gardens for daytime napping. Watching the sun set from the deck of a waterfront restaurant while sipping sangria and devouring pizza was the ultimate antidote for bustling Buenos Aires.
* Argentine wine. Particularly the Rutini chardonnay, or the trio served up at our wine tasting: the floral Finca de Domingo Torrontés, the tannic Clos de Los 7, and the glorious Miguel Escorihuela Gascón Pequeñas Producciones Malbec. Leathery and alcholic, the true taste of Argentina.
* Argentine food! Some highlights:
- Sidewalk Italian lunch at non-pretentious, home-style Italian joint, Guido's (below)
- The Palermo restaurant Ølsen. A slice of pure Sydney, from the inventive flavours to the Brazilian Girls soundtrack to the chic, airy dining room (their plum tart pictured)
- The bowl of oysters with goat's cheese at slick restaurant Rëd in Puerto Madero. The sort of place (with lilies in the loos) that you know you really couldn't afford in most countries
- The 'ocean' and 'earth' tapas platters at Nemo (latter pictured for your pleasure)
- The orgasmic array of antipasti at the buffet restaurant, La Bistecca
- Caprese salads
- The taste of the pampas beef, on our very first night, at Gran Bar Danzon
- The coffee. Even the bad stuff is great. Why can't they get the balance right in the US?
- Café life. Catching up with friends at a slower pace.
- Everywhere serves home-made pasta, such as squid ink tagliatelle (below), or sorrentinos (large ham-and-cheese ravioli)
- Real, non-American, pizza. Try El Cuartito for an unforgettable caramelised onion slice, on a crispy base.
- The custardy, fruity, "helados artesanales". Think boozy sabayon with cherries, dulce de leche, peach, tiramisu... But avoid Freddo, the McDonald's of Argentine ice cream.
- Steaming fresh empanadas beneath the curved-brick ceiling at El Sanjuanino in Recoleta
- Buttery croissants for breakfast, procured from the Alvear Palace Hotel patisserie
- Because it isn't American food - after just one day back in the US my complexion has already grown spots. What's up with that?
* Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes for its stellar collection of European masterpieces, and a spooky, spotlit room of pre-Columbian artifacts
* Dancing tango at a real milonga
* Missing the polo match in the Chandon tent with the ladies
* The "guess-the-next-cheesy-1980s-torch-song competition" I dreamt up at a starchy Italian restaurant. The pesos were flying thick and fast towards bookie Ryle (chosen because he couldn't name a single 1980s song to save his life). We later learnt the cheeky twentysomething in our midst cheated us all by stealing a glance at the CD playlist.
* Spending time with old friends (Aysha and Ben, visiting from Sydney) and new (such as Graham and Rainey, pictured above).
Worst bit
Few looked as confident on horseback at our day on the pampas as fabulous Fara. Then she was thrown, mid-gallop, and wasn't able to get up for quite a while. Slowly she was brought back to the homestead, holding her aching shoulder while the rest of us hovered ineffectually. She sat calmly during lunch, in great pain, before being driven to a hospital. Brave and dry-eyed the entire time. An X-ray found a fracture. There were so many flowers, chocolates and notes left at her hotel room doorway that night it looked like somebody had died.
In the end she stayed in Buenos Aires for a couple of days longer until the formal part of the trip was over, so there were fellows to accompany her back to Ann Arbor. We are all heartbroken that she missed out on the second leg of her trip, and many nights lighting up the city's tango salons. But she is recovering well and looking forward to her next trip south, fabulous as ever.
