Next Stop: 18 hour bus ride to the Iguazu waterfalls.

There are two ways to travel around Argentina - mammoth bus rides or short sweet aerial transport. Unfortunately the second way requires a bigger bank account so my friend and I braved the manic and massive bus station in Buenos Aires for our 18 hour transport to waterfalls that I have had described to me as the life changing experience. They should be. In competition to be listed as one of the seven natural wonders of the world, this 2.7 km area consists of 275 water falls that range between almost 270 feet and 210 feet. The largest of these is the Devil's throat that is 82-meter-high, 150-meter-wide and 700-meter-long.

With almost a day on a bus ahead of us to reach these spectacular sites we splurged and opted for the full-cami (ie you get seats that recline and a platform on which to rest your legs). I will give Argentina this - their buses are first class. Candies and a bow tied steward greeted us on the bus. Wine helped with dinner and champagne helped us fall asleep after watching The Proposal on the screens provided.

Regardless of this luxury (including breakfast the next morning) a bus is a bus and I was more than ready to stretch my legs when we finally arrived in the town bordering the falls. Unfortunately we were not quite done with buses. Our hostel was outside of town and on the road to the waterfalls. Reluctantly I got back on a bus for the 20 minute ride. Luckily it was worth it.

The hostel came with pool and poolside bar! Ahhhhhh... I can deal with this. Good thing too because the heat was incredible here. At least 10 degrees hotter than Buenos Aires, me and my friend were melting.

By the time we had checked-in and eaten some lunch it was too late to visit the falls which were another 20 minute bus ride away. We also discovered that, though these falls have two sides - one in Argentina and one in Brazil - we would be stuck on the Argentine side. My American friend and I had not considered any visa issues and she required one to enter Brazil.

Resigning ourselves to enjoying the pool we sunbathed and relaxed before gorging ourselves on the all-you-can eat BBQ at the hostel that night while the tango show entertained us.

The next morning we were up, checked out and on the bus to the waterfalls by 9 am (we had a nightbus back to Buenos Aires at 7 pm so we had to get going). Entrance to the grounds will cost a small fortune for foreigners, but I quickly got over the price when we entered the park.

Paved and well sign-posted roads deliver tourists to their desired view points of these extensive water falls. Trains also run to many of the destinations in the park, but I dragged my friend by foot for better viewing. Covered by butterflies and green of the rain forest the walk to the main viewing point was worth it. Besides the main area of the waterfalls other smaller ones dot this park, which makes the walks around here an adventure.

After watching boat after boat of tourists get drenched under the main waterfalls my friend and I decided we had to do it! Luckily they give you waterproof bags to help keep anything we owned dry. It was terrifying. The driver takes turns like he's driving a sports car in the Indie 500 and the psycho photographer is asking everyone to smile. I was holding on for dear life and praying we would not overturn as we veered into the mist of the falls.

When I could open my eyes and stop gripping on for dear life it was an amazing way to experience the waterfalls and definitely worth it.

Next stop: some lunch with massive rodents that hide in the jungles here. Cross between raccoon and rabid rats my poor friend was quietly eating her lunch on one of the tables when one of these creatures from the lagoon jumped up on the table sniffed out her chocolate bar and took off. The demon ate the bar, wrapper and all in ten seconds flat! We moved inside to finish our lunch.

From here we wandered up to the top of the falls with the deluge of water. Nerve-wracking when you see the remnants of a bridge that used to keep tourists afloat before it was washed away by flooding water.

After a full day here, with red shoulders and enough water for a while me and my friend boarded our bus back to the hostel, picked-up our bags and boarded another 18 hour bus back to Buenos Aires (whirlwind).

We had two more days in Buenos Aires before my friend left and having done just about everything Evita we decided to try our hands at some of the wine Argentina is known for. After a ridiculous amount of time on buses to see waterfalls, visiting the wine region of Argentina (Mendoza) was impossible. So I found a company that provides wine tastings in Buenos Aires that paired some of the best wine I have ever tasted with the best food.

After thoroughly enjoying ourselves with too much wine I bid good-bye to my slightly tipsy college friend and moved onto fellow Bermudian Jennie's couch for a week of Bikram yoga (yoga for crazy people in 102 degree heat) and not being a backpacker. We explored her neighbourhood of Palermo (picture Brooklyn) and then I roped her into travelling with me to the northern part of Argentina - Salta.

This, of course, required a 20 hour bus ride. Again it was another glamorous travel experience (well as much as a 20 hour ride can be). Unfortunately the hostel we had booked was not. Mould was growing from the ceiling. We complained. We were moved, but it wasn't much better and we decided to put up with it for one night and find somewhere else for the next day.

The reason to visit Salta, or so it seemed, was to use the city as a jumping off point for the coloured countryside surrounding it. To see these coloured hills and overgrown prickly plants required either hiring a car (and I definitely did not trust my ability to drive a stick shift) or hiring a tour agency. We caved a hired a travel agency. This proved even more incentive for me to come to terms with my ability to drive a stick shift car.

It was a cheap agency and so were the tour guides. The first day I believe our guide was auditioning for Argentina Idol rather than offering anything interesting. When he wasn't singing he was going into the minute details of a condors life. Interesting, yes. An hour needed? No. Regardless of his attempt to ruin our day we succeeded in seeing an actual condor flying above us at almost 4,000 metres above sea level, visit the enormous cacti of Parques Los Naciaonals Cordones, trying to capture the natural painter's canvas (waves of colours in the nearby hills) and eating an organic and local lunch at an outpost on a road barely large enough for the car.

We were allowed about an hour to wander through the town of Cachi (picture one town square where you would expect John Wayne to bulldoze through on horseback). Besides the church with it's cactus bark roof and confessional there really wasn't much else to see so Jennie and I set-off to fulfil Christmas lists.

It was about two hours back to Salta, but luckily we had moved into a mould-free and pool endorsed B&B so it was to the wind for backpacking for a while. I needed the luxury. We crashed.

Next morning we were up again and ready for whatever poorly sung Argentinian tune they could throw at us. This time there was no singing, just an awkward guide who clearly did not want to be there. Our tour today included envisioning shapes in the red rocks on our way to wine tasting in the equally small town of Cafayate. Sceptic I am, but the rock shapes were quite impressive. Passing the Titanic, an iguana sunning itself, the devil's throat and a frog we arrived at our wine tasting. I'm afraid we visited two of the worst wineries I have been too.

Back in Salta after a disappointing day we had one more tour arranged for the next day. We had planned really to only take the Train to the Clouds (picture riding the rails more than 4,000 metres above sea level), however, that only ran on Saturdays and well we had arrived on a Saturday so....out of luck. Instead we found a company that would send us out with only two other people. After the past two days, however, I was sceptical to say the least of how this was going to turn out. It didn't help that I had also eaten something that was not sitting well in my stomach Wheat strikes again! Just 20 minutes into the ride, I had to have the driver pull over to the public toilets....yes it was going to be a good day!

Luckily the driver was informative and an incredibly nice guy. A former college professor he was meticulous in his explanation for the colour of the hills, the size of the cacti, llamas, the height (over 4,000 metres at one point) and finally the salt flats we landed in at the end of the day. After taking the required distance photos (because these are so flat and solo colour a distance photo can be taken) and dropping-off the other couple in their town for the night we had a three hour drive back to Salta. I had barely recovered from what I had eaten so I crashed.

The next morning it was time to wish my Bermuda triangle question-aidee goodbye to board my overnight bus to Mendoza (more wine-tasting for me) and Jennie returned to Buenos Aires.