Endex: the South American food, booze and not-volleyball tour

No normal person can spend more than a week at a time with Josh. Longer is the preserve of endurance athletes, Olympians and those with a death wish. And so after Patagonia, I packed up my bike and set off for Buenos Aires to join Jeevi (nominally of Deloitte fame) for two weeks of rest, recovery and roaming around South America ... the final part of the year out.

Condensing a full account of those two weeks and four very different destinations into something succinct is beyond me. Instead you are getting a scattershot of the highlights (many) and lowlights (few) of each stop on our merry little jolly.

Buenos Aires

I am quite sure Kirsten is fed up with me describing Buenos Aires as “the best city in the world” … but that is what she gets for being the one who insisted I visit in the first place. It might not actually be the best, but it certainly comes close. Take the wide, expansive tree-lined boulevards of a Vienna or a Washington DC, add the buzz of a Barcelona, and blend in every stereotype under the sun of Argentine meat culture. There you have that fantastic foodie city.

And so what did we do in Buenos Aires? We ate. We ate deep pan pizza (and Guerrin does it superlatively). We ate the best burgers outside Chamonix (at the wittily named ‘Burger Joint’). We ate chocolate and hazelnut ice cream (Lucciano’s).

Then we got to Don Julio. There, to say we 'ate' would be to do a disservice to the restaurant, the chefs, the cows. Hell, it would even be a disservice to the wood in the grill. So at Don Julio we did not 'eat', we feasted. We feasted on the best steaks of our lives – and probably anyone else's’ for that matter.

If you ever find yourself in Buenos Aires, get in the queue for Don Julio. You will have to wait (or book 90 days in advance) but boy will it be worth it. And then, when your stomach is contentedly full of steak, pop down to Lucciano’s to give your dessert stomach the same royal treatment. The gout is a price worth paying.

Iguazu

In Iguazu, we swapped sophistication and fine dining for big nature. The Iguazu (literally ‘big water’ in the local Guarani dialect) River acts as the border between Argentina and Brazil and are - no s*** Sherlock - a big body of water. The falls are where the river teams up with gravity to create a water cannon, the force of which Mesdames Patel and Braverman could only dream of.

That scale of water coming off the waterfall is a sight worth seeing from both sides. On the Argentinian side, a series of walkways take you right up to the edge of the falls, letting you get up close and personal without getting soaked. From the Brazilian side, you get a view of the falls in their entirety – and a slightly more sophisticated visitor centre. The one thing that is absolutely worth doing (unless you have an unhealthy aversion to fun) from either side is a boat trip right up to the foot of the waterfall. Jeevi and I were lucky enough to be joined on our boat by a large group on a girls' holiday: the shrieks and shouts of ‘baño, baño baño’ added to the atmosphere - and the number of soakings we received.

But while the falls are absolutely worth doing, do not let anyone tell you that you need more than one night there. Fly in, visit each side and then carry on with your trip. Worth seeing, but once you have seen it, you have seen it.

Rio

Rio, frankly, is all about showing off. A big, brash city that lacks any concept of half measures. The geography is designed to impress: “you know what would really round out this sunset: a f*** off big statue of Christ the Redeemer on the skyline”. The food and drink scene shines, in quantity of meat if nothing else. And all of that is a just a preamble to the beaches.

Team James and Jeevi showing the locals what netball is all about

If you find yourself with a free day in Rio, get yourself down to Ipanema at 06:30 for a morning run in what must be the buzziest outdoor gym on the planet then head back a few hours later to top up the tan. If you ask Jeevi what his highlight of Rio was, he will probably come up with some nonsense along the lines of getting to see Brazil play Argentina at the Maracana. Really, he is just being modest: it was actually the two of us down on the sand, thrashing the locals at beach volleyball (pictured). Just beware the caipirinha vendors: their approach to pricing that would make even a management consultant blush.

Cusco

From Rio at sea level straight up to 3 500m in the Andes. That was a bit of shock. Especially whenever we came across a set of stairs.

Star of the show at the Alpaca convention

Our itinerary in Cusco was a little unconventional. To hell with seeing Machu Picchu or doing the Inca Trail. That would have required a level of advanced planning and organisation that avoided us as two management consultants. Instead, we were lucky enough to arrive just in time for the Andes’ premier Alpaca convention. Yes, an actual convention … in a series of marquees on the side of a (very large) hill … complete with both Alpaca merch’ and what looked to be a ‘best in breed’ competition. How is that for experiencing the real Cusco.

After completing alpacas, Jeevi and I turned our attention to Cusco’s other non-Machu Picchu treasure: I am delighted to say we can now pass ourselves off as leading authorities on Pisco sours. After an extensive assessment process, we were delighted to award the title of ‘best Pisco in Cusco’ not to the local Belmond hotel, but to the backpacker’s institution that is Jack’s cafe. Sorry Monsieur Arnault, our expert view is that Jack makes it smoother, cheaper, better.

From Cusco, we flew to Santiago armed with our newfound multidisciplinary expertise (netball, steak, waterfalls, Pisco to name a few) for one final, valedictory session of #drinkingwithJosh. Jeevi returned directly to London and I took the long way home - via Australia and Hong Kong. We reunite on Monday when I pick up my laptop and rejoin the world of work in what promises to be a cold and grey London. Wish me luck.