Firstly, to all you folks reading up on us in Austria, we appreciate your support. All 36 of you. So the week started in high spirits. We crossed to the Argentine side of the falls to be greeted by Mr Man at hostel, who tells that his other profession is a masseuse, because he finds it, and we quote, "sensual." The creepiness is heightened as he enjoys cleaning the pool, talking to the debris in phrases such as "come to me baby," and offering to give us a massage after dark. We'll pass. Another time maybe. To reiterate the Falls were INCREDIBLE, totally different experience offered on the Argentine side. We were perched right on the end of the waterfall, above the heaving abyss below. We felt very small in comparison, and even put up with looking like a pair of nitwits in respective blue and orange ponchos. Mind blowing experience, a MUST for anyone planning to go.
Moving on from the falls we embarked on our extremely well bartered bus journey to BA, involving  luxurious cama seats and even champagne. We were in our element. However we were stopped six times throughout the journey for regular passport checks and even had the sniffer dogs on board for a short while. Cloccy was cacking her pants- aware of the large selection of oreos hidden within her backpack. We arrived in BA, so excited and smelling horrendous. Honestly the coolest city alive, so wacky and so much happening all at once. Finding our hostel was another story, walking past it about 4 times before realising it had been there all along. Nice one. Arriving at the front desk we were met by 'Alberto,' a greasy man, with long locks and nipple piercing otherwise friendly enough and were told "welcome to Milhouse, a place to party" cheers mate but all we want to do right now is cleanse. He also told us our room would not be ready for four hours.
Therefore we decided to sunbathe on the rooftops of BA and burn in true English style.
First night was spent DOWN WITH DA LADS, sipping on beer and watching the football, the only girls in the room. Naturally, we attracted the attention of all the miserable squits who happened to be lurking in the shadows. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a chair swings passed our faces and plonks itself in our direct line of sight. If I hear the question, "Wherrrre are you from?" one more time, I swear, I'm going to stick my 20 hour old sock in his cake hole. Yes, you were thinking correctly, it was the group of Israeli blokes eyeing us up like lettuce, or - in our case- prime rare fillet steaks, the moment we walked through the door. There was no introduction, no "can I buy you a drink?" just pure harassment and invasion of space. We felt attacked and naturally became defensive, I brought out the fists whilst occy brought out the feet. Furthermore, Ocs and Rosie's alter egos were born. Tired of explaining our life stories no fewer than 30 times an evening, Fatima and Daniella were born, members of girl band "Sexual Malfunctions," shot to fame through our number one single, "Chillin with ma Day Sack." I also managed to pass Occy off as Alex Salmonds daughter and myself as 'Miss Cambridge 2013.' Weary from our identity fraud, we hit the bunk beds, to arise at 4 in the afternoon the following day. A tough life.
Saturday, ready to parddaaay hard and hit the all famous clubs of BA. Ocs and I put on our gladrags and headed on down to club Terazzas, one of the biggest clubs on the scene. We arrived, both bursting for the loo after one too many 'Eva' cocktails at Milhouse. After seeing the queue for the ladies loos we decided to explore the club and found a private section, the bouncers personal lavatory. Occy managed to relieve her bladder whilst I sat impatiently outside when Mr Big shot bouncer comes along, with a pistol and severe expression on face. To be plain we had to do a runner and move swiftly on to the mens where we also got kicked out. With Terrazas six dance floors, we had no option but to sing for our supper. A flick of the hair and a free bottle of champagne later, we braved the outside dance floor and boogied the night away under the stars until sunrise. A magical evening.

Buenos Aires has proven to be a huge success and we have definitely made the most of it, checking out the local polo match, eating at Siga La Vaca- the best steak eveerrrrr, and being overcome by the moment and adding an additional piercing to our bodies! Before I knew it, I was staring at a spear through my stomach while Rosie had to endure a rod through her nose. What were we thinking? We desperately made our way to Recolecta, Argentina's famous cemetry to pray for our sins. Closed. To add insult to injury, I proceeded to pour half a bottle of iodine over Rosie's face which gave her the appearence of a slightly moustachey Simpson for the afternoon. Our last day in BA though tops off everything. We decided to take a tour of the amazing La Boca, with its quirky neighbourhood and colourful houses and felt very part of the Argentine life, watching Tango over lunch and overseeing a local football match. We didn't want to leave at all. However, I'm sure some were glad to see the back of us, including "Lars" the Norweigian scapegoat who we bad mouthed on several occasions, and the poor dear who Rosie flashed in our dorm after I accidentally used her towel as a bath mat. Not popular. Next stop, Bariloche.