Lima

Premium flight to Peru

When we booked our flights out of Mendoza, we went for LATAM’s Premium Economy. Mostly because the price difference to a flex ticket wasn’t huge and on a long trip you learn to value small comforts. The first leg, Mendoza → Santiago, was short and smooth, just a quick hop over the mountains.

Our layover in Santiago was long enough for a proper meal at the airport, and then it was time to board the next flight heading towards Lima, Peru.

That’s where the surprise hit.

As we stepped onto the plane, the crew looked at our boarding passes and guided us left, towards the front of the aircraft. And instead of the usual “premium-ish” seats, we walked into what felt like a completely different category: proper little pods, huge armchair-style seats, and enough personal space to start wondering if we had accidentally boarded someone else’s flight.

It honestly felt like a small travel lottery win.

Only afterwards did it make sense: due to unscheduled maintenance, the aircraft had been swapped from an A320 to a 787-9 Dreamliner — and there “premium” actually felt premium. At that point our upgrade didn’t feel like a overpriced slightly nicer seat… it felt like we’d been handed a tiny slice of business class without asking and we definitely got our money's worth.

Traveling comfortably

Arriving in Lima

The only downside of our good seats: we had so much space that Sini accidentally left her cap and sunglasses behind on the plane. We only realized it later, so after collecting our luggage at Jorge Chávez Airport we stopped by a couple of LATAM desks and asked for help. Someone started looking into it, and by the time we finally got the confirmation that nothing had been found, two hours had somehow passed and we walked out empty-handed.

When we finally got out and tried to book our ride, Cabify refused to cooperate with credit card payment. After a bit of fumbling and quick problem-solving, I managed to switch the payment method to cash instead. Luckily we had exchanged a little bit of Argentine money into Peruvian soles at the airport — at a pretty terrible rate, of course — but at least it meant we could actually get moving.

Our Airbnb building had its own reception desk, and after check-in we finally stepped into the apartment — pleasantly spacious and comfortable. It was already getting late and we needed to get some groceries. Luckily there was a supermarket just around the block and I made a quick expedition to fill the fridge.

Barranco to Miraflores: Garúa, Markets, and a Very Good First Bite

When the next day arrived, Barranco opened up in front of us — a neighbourhood that immediately felt easy and pleasant. As time went by, there was a surprisingly thick fog which was closing in, and the phenomenon even has a local name: garúa. Little by little it lifted, and we set off towards another area with a great reputation: Miraflores.

Barranco. Now you see it... Now you don't

We had barely walked a couple of blocks when we noticed rows of stalls along the edge of a park. It was Sunday and there was a market, Feria Ecológica de Barranco. We wandered through the stands, and of course didn’t leave empty-handed: a bottle of chili sauce and a couple of yellow pitahayas came with us.

Feria Ecólogica de Barranco

Tasty pitahaya

From there we continued over the pedestrian bridge towards Larcomar shopping centre, and Sini solved the most urgent travel problem of the day by getting a new pair of sunglasses.

Next up: food.

Lima is often called South America’s culinary capital, and we got our first proper taste of that at Saha Peruvian Kitchen. The ceviche was so good — and so sharply acidic that it almost made your tongue hurt. In the same way spicy Thai food sometimes sits right on the edge of “is this too much?”, this ceviche was right on the edge of “is this too sour?”… and yet, after every bite, you still wanted another.

We also tried papa a la huancaína, which was excellent (and Peru really does boast over 4,000 varieties of potatoes), and lomo saltado that was properly melt-in-your-mouth. A cocktail tasting flight — three small cocktails (Chilcano, Pisco Punch and Pisco Sour) — topped it all off.

Culinary delights of Peru

After lunch we walked through Parque 7 de Junio, where we found cats lounging around the park and artists working on their paintings. From there we finally made our way back to the apartment.

Based on the first full day, Lima was already exceeding expectations.

Bohemian Barranco (with a sketchy detour)

The next day we explored Barranco in the other direction. It felt bohemian and pleasant — cafés, street art, and relaxed vibe.

After lunch, on our way to Playa Barranco

After wandering around for a bit we ended up making our way down to Playa Barranco. We figured the pedestrian bridge connecting Barranco and Miraflores was probably reachable from the beach so we started walking north towards the bridge.

Little by little the atmosphere changed. There were fewer people, and the buildings around us started looking abandoned. We got to a point where the route ahead led into a narrow little alley that felt so sketchy we decided it was better to turn back.

Later, from up above, we noticed that right on the other side of that alley there was a large police station meaning we probably would’ve been perfectly fine. But down there there was no indication of that and it was yet again another good exercise day with almost 10 km walking. So forget step counters. If you want to walk more, just buy a plane ticket...

Speaking of plane tickets, we had originally only booked three nights in Lima and our flight was closing in. After this second full day, the city was still feeling good — and we didn’t even have accommodation in Costa Rica yet. The flight was flex, so I started looking into what moving things around would mean for both the tickets and the Airbnb.

A bit of checking later, it turned out our apartment had a new guest arriving on January 15th, and we were originally supposed to fly out on the 13th — so we had a small window to extend our stay. And to our surprise moving the flight two days forward didn’t just work, it meant we’d get almost 500 euros back from the ticket price. At that point the decision to extend our stay was not a decision at all and just a few moments later we got a confirmation about the new flight schedule.

(as it's been over a month since our trip to Lima, I asked Chatgpt what have I been asking during our stay there to freshen up the memory and get some details about the plane ticket thing. The first thing it reminded of was not of plane tickets, but instead of me asking about clocked toilet. I had totally forgot about that. There is a reason why somewhere around the world paper shouldn't be flushed 😁)

Miraflores Miles, Seafood Wins, and a Barbershop Bonus

The next day turned into another long walk in Miraflores. We hit our “regular” playground, Larcomar shopping center and then made our way to find a post office to send a postcard.

Larcomar shopping center

Junior's favourite

After the post office was done for, we started to find a cuy (fried guinea pig, a traditional delicacy dish in Peru) restaurant. It turned out be a little bit harder than expected and we were getting hungry so I checked Google Maps and there was a place nearby I had previously saved: Cevichería Barra Maretazo. We decided to go there instead and postpone the mission to find cuy.

The cevicheria turned out to have fish dishes that were genuinely excellent. To make it even better, we got a complimentary chef’s greeting to the table — a little trio that included ceviche, leche de tigre (a citrusy, spicy ceviche “marinade”), and a third fish bite. And to our surprise the junior basically inhaled it all without a second of hesitation. No suspicious sniffing, no “what is this?”, just straight in. A pretty impressive performance for a five year old. In my opinion Lima's South American food capital reputation was holding out strong.

We finished the day with a very local-feeling errand: both boys got haircuts at a barbershop next to our place we had spotted earlier. The haircut was affordable and came with a drink of your choice. When we paid Sini was offered a beer too (my choice of coffee didn't feel that good anymore..). Not a bad deal at all.

Last Day Rooftop and the Mission Cuy

I managed to go for a few runs during our trip, and the next morning was one of them. The park areas in Barranco on both sides of the pedestrian bridge made for great running routes — easy paths, greenery, nice views and a nice change from city streets.

Barranco morning run views

It was also a fairly sunny day, so we finally tested our apartment complex’s rooftop terrace and the rooftop pool.

The last-day mission was clear: find cuy . And yes, Miraflores eventually delivered — we found a restaurant that actually served it. And once again the junior ate like a seasoned foodie and asked for more guinea pig.

The elusive cuy, finally caught

Btw, like many “exotic” foods, I'll have to go with the classic line also with cuy: it tasted like chicken. Tasty chicken. 

Then it was time to pack our backpacks again and prepare for an early morning. Lima had originally been just a stopover on our way to Costa Rica, but three nights would have been way too short. Extending it to five turned out to be a great call in retrospect — and Barranco was a really nice neighbourhood to call home for a few days.

Salta & Mendoza: Higher Altitudes, Slow Days, and Balcony Views

Salta: Balcony Views and an Empanada Victory

Salta

We arrived in Salta on December 30th. After a welcoming Cabify ride with a chatty driver, we were greeted by an incredibly warm Airbnb host and a lovely apartment that immediately felt like home. The balcony alone could have convinced us to stay longer — wide views, warm air, and that quiet mountain-city feeling that makes you slow down without even noticing.

We didn’t waste much time before heading out again, though. Our host’s first recommendation was empanadas, and honestly, when in Argentina, you don’t argue. At La Nueva Criollita we hit a small but meaningful jackpot: they had a cheese empanada without egg. Victory. The junior’s first empanada was met with a very serious taste test and an equally serious double thumbs up.

Later that day, things took a less triumphant turn. A mild headache crept in, slowly but stubbornly, until I found myself very much out of the game and far too close to the toilet bowl. Whether it was dehydration, a bit of altitude, or the two lunch beers (or all of the above), Salta made it clear that it wanted to be taken seriously. Sitting at around 1,200 meters above sea level, it’s not that high — but bodies are individuals, and mine clearly had opinions. Locals swear by coca leaves or candies to ease altitude symptoms but we didn't have luck finding those at the supermarket.

The next day was better, but somehow my entire time in Salta was shaded by a slightly off feeling — not terrible, just… not quite right.

New Year’s Eve, the Quiet Edition

New Year’s Eve matched my energy perfectly: calm, quiet, and uncomplicated. We wandered through a nearly deserted city, bought coca candies, played air hockey, and let the junior try an arcade car racing game. Later, we stocked up on snacks and watched The Super Mario Bros. Movie. After the kiddo fell asleep, we opened a bottle of red wine and sat on the balcony, enjoying the warm evening air and distant fireworks. No pressure, no big parties — just exactly right.

That same day, we also sorted out our rental car. Both old colleagues and our Airbnb host recommended the same place, Activa Rent a Car. After a bit of Googling, we realised it was literally across the street from where we were staying. Travel luck at its finest. We booked the car for January 2nd–4th, with the plan to return it straight at the airport. With limited time and my energy levels in mind, it felt like a good compromise.

Road Trip North: Flexible Rules and Big Landscapes

On January 2nd, we headed north toward Purmamarca, climbing up to around 2,200 meters. Matias had the honour of being the first — and only — driver on this leg of the journey. It didn’t take long to realise that driving rules here are more… flexible. Lanes are optional, pedestrians fend for themselves, and confidence is everything. Whoever has the most cojones goes first.

The drive itself was stunning. Lush green hills slowly transformed into dry, dramatic landscapes filled with cacti and layers of colour. Hunger eventually kicked in, and we started searching for food — which led us through tiny villages frozen in siesta silence. In Volcán, we finally found an open shop selling coca leaves and ice cream. The elderly man behind the counter asked where we were from, genuinely interested, and the whole moment felt unexpectedly wholesome. And all in Spanish, of course — though his accent was thiiiick.

Volcan

Our accommodation was Mai Jaii, a few kilometres before Purmamarca. When we arrived it felt almost abandoned — door locked, no movement, just silence. Then we noticed a bell by the parking lot. One loud ring later, someone emerged from the back of the building, and suddenly the place came to life.

Purmamarca: Llamas, Layers of Colour, and a Change of Plans

Purmamarca was touristy, but also incredibly charming and beautiful. After checking into our hostel, we headed into town, following in the footsteps of colleagues who had been here before. Dinner included llama meat at del Sol, and afterwards we wandered to the starting point of the Seven Colour Hill trail. There were two llamas there (we didn't tell them about our dinner choises...) and the scenery seemed nice. We planned to hike it the next morning — the sun was already setting — and the junior still had energy left for the playground before bedtime.

That night, my body once again had its own plans. Stomach cramps, very little sleep, and by morning it was clear that pushing through a scenic hike wasn’t the right choice. We decided to skip the trail, do a quick visit to the nearby market, and head back to Salta.

Back to Salta: Half-Speed Days

The rest of the time was spent gently: a rooftop pool, Matias going for a run, and everything happening at half speed. It wasn’t the “full itinerary” version of Salta we might have imagined — but it was still Salta: warm air, mountain-city calm, and the kind of travel days where you just listen to what your body is saying and adjust.

Mendoza: Balcony Views & Malbec Nights

Our final stop in Argentina was Mendoza — wine country, wide skies, and a much-needed softer landing. Even the arrival had a story: our Uber driver looked exactly like my dad. The kiddo stared at him for a long moment before asking why that man looked just like grandpa. After a brief pause, he decided it couldn’t be him — grandma wasn’t there with him. Case closed. (Btw the resemblance was so spot on that even my grandma chuckled 😁)

We stayed in a high-rise a little outside the city centre, which meant lots of steps but also one of the best balcony views of the trip. The city stretched out beneath us, the full moon glowing above — it felt almost unreal. A perfect setting for a bottle of Malbec and absolutely no plans.

Wine, Moonlight, and Doing Less

We debated renting a car to explore wineries ourselves or organising something more structured. In the end, travel tiredness won. The constant planning and decision-making had quietly piled up, and slowing down felt like the real luxury. Days passed with walks, pool time, card games, and wine enjoyed without rushing anywhere.

Good Wi-Fi kept us connected to family back home, which grounded everything in a comforting way.

The Tomahawk (and Completing the Holy Trinity)

On our last night we did end up going for the tomahawk in Mendoza — at Chama Santuarion — and it was the perfect way to complete what now feels like the trip’s unofficial steak trilogy.

First came Buenos Aires: the melt-in-your-mouth ojo de bife at Don Julio. Then La Cabrera, with a table so full of sides it practically turned into a buffet. And finally Mendoza: a tomahawk that didn’t apologise for anything — bold, smoky, and unapologetically rich with that glorious fat-and-fire flavour. A perfect last meal for the meat country known as Argentina.

The Laundry Incident

On our last day, we made the classic mistake: last moment laundry.

It started innocently enough. We loaded the machine, picked a wash program, and added the drying cycle too. The display happily announced a total time of… hours.

On the way back to the apartment we asked reception how long our laundry slot was valid. Turns out it was more than an hour shorter than the program we’d chosen. Great.

When we finally went back down, we were hoping for just slightly damp clothes and a quick exit. Instead, opening the door released a cloud of steam… and inside was a hot, heavy pile of clothes that was still basically soaking wet. Not “a little moist”. More like: “a quick test of how much water a piece of clothing can possibly absorb.”

So we hauled everything out in small handfuls (so we wouldn’t burn our hands), and the rest of the evening turned into a proper drying operation: towels, improvised hanging, ironing — and a surprisingly effective YouTube lifehack involving a hairdryer and a plastic bag. It probably would’ve worked even better if we’d only had a few items, instead of half a wardrobe.

Lesson learned forever: never do laundry the day before departure.

Goodbye, Argentina

And then, just like that, Argentina came to an end. On the drive to the airport, No llores por mi Argentina by Serú Girán played on the radio, and I quietly teared up — the perfect, slightly dramatic soundtrack to a country like this.

Because Argentina gave us a bit of everything: the big-city buzz of Buenos Aires, the overwhelming force of Iguazú, the dry colours and altitude lessons up north around Salta and Purmamarca, and finally Mendoza’s slower rhythm — views from the balcony, a couple of glasses (ahem bottles...) of Malbec, and a much-needed pause from constant decision-making. It felt like we only caught glimpses of a huge, intense, warm country… but somehow those glimpses were enough to leave a mark.

We barely scratched the surface — but we’re leaving with full hearts.

But now we’d better get going. The next destination is already waiting.

-Sini

Two Countries, One Overwhelming Natural Wonder: Iguazú Falls

Tropical Christmas Eve

No white Christmas this year.

We flew into Puerto Iguazú on the 24th, trading urban streets for warm air, dense greenery and an entirely different kind of landscape, and took a taxi to our hotel, Hotel Saint George. During our drive we saw roadside warning signs that pointed out local wildlife: coatis, wild cats, things you definitely don’t expect to see on a normal city commute.

After dropping our bags, we walked to a nearby restaurant we’d spotted on the way to the hotel. No big Christmas feast, no long plans — just food, tired legs and a calm first evening in a completely new setting.

Later that night closer to midnight, fireworks started going off. Mostly we heard them rather than saw them, but from the balcony we could catch glimpses of light above the treetops. Not a traditional Christmas by any stretch — but somehow very fitting for this trip.

Butterflies, boardwalks and a growing roar

The next morning, it was finally time.

We headed to the Argentinian side of the Iguazu falls after breakfast. The park itself is well organised, with wide boardwalks, clear routes and a small train that takes you deeper into the area. We hopped on the train towards Garganta del Diablo, knowing that this was supposed to be the highlight — but still not quite prepared for what that actually meant.

It was only after stepping off the train, at the very start of the walkway towards Garganta del Diablo, that the jungle truly announced itself. Butterflies appeared seemingly out of nowhere — swirling around us, landing on clothes, backpacks and shoulders — turning the walk into something straight out of a nature documentary.

Butterfly here, butterfly there, butterflies everywhere

Garganta del Diablo 👹

The closer we got, the louder it became.

The river widened, the air grew heavier with mist, and then suddenly the ground seemed to end. Garganta del Diablo isn’t just something you look at — it’s something you feel. The noise is constant and powerful, the water disappearing into a massive drop right in front of you.

Garganta del Diablo

We stood there for a good while, watching the water crash down and rise again as spray, before slowly making our way back.

Around us, coatis — raccoon-like animals native to the area — wandered around with impressive confidence. They were clearly used to people and showed little fear, strolling past backpacks and legs as if this were their living room. Still, reminder signs were everywhere: wild animals nonetheless, and not to be fed.

Coatis

Walking it back

On the way back, we walked the lower trails as well. More views, more water, more butterflies — some of which seemed determined to hitch a ride on our clothes.

By the time we headed out of the park, everyone was tired in the best possible way: full of impressions, slightly damp, and quietly impressed.

And this was only one side.

Brazil: Borders, Birds and Bargain Ubers

The next day it was time to switch countries again.

We hopped on a Rio Uruguay bus heading towards Foz do Iguaçu, ready for our Brazilian chapter. Crossing the Argentinian border went smoothly and without any drama. So far, so good.

Argentinian border crossing

Not long after, the bus stopped again. Most passengers stayed seated, looking completely unbothered. We exchanged slightly confused looks — was this it? Was this the Brazilian border? A quick bit of Googling revealed that locals don’t even need to get off the bus for Brazilian immigration.

Just as the bus started moving again and we realised we were about to miss our stop entirely! Sini sprang into action, rushing forward and urgently asking the driver to open the doors. A small moment of chaos later, we were out, backpacks with us, and heading for border formalities.

By the time we were done, the bus was long gone.

There was no clear information about the next one either, so we waited for a moment, weighing our options. Then I checked ride apps — and there it was. An Uber, ready to pick us up for the grand total of two euros. Decision made instantly.

A few minutes later we were cruising towards Hotel Golden Park, amused at how absurdly easy (and cheap) that solution turned out to be.

Small joys of modern travel

One of the quiet pleasures of travelling these days is just how effortless some things have become. Ride apps in particular have been a constant favourite: open the app, type in the destination, hop in, and the payment takes care of itself in the background.

(With the notable exception of our earlier Cabify episode, where a card got temporarily locked for “suspicious activity”. Luckily after getting things solved with the bank, that was easily worked around by switching the payment method to Google Pay or PayPal).

The same goes for staying connected. Using an eSIM like Airalo has made things refreshingly simple: data works across borders without hunting for SIM cards or worrying about surprise roaming charges. Maps load, ride apps work, quick Google searches settle small uncertainties and make sure the nearest restaurant doesn't have tons of one star reviews.

It’s hard not to think back to travelling around Southeast Asia almost 20 years ago (woah!), before smartphones were everywhere — with a Lonely Planet stuffed in a backpack, flipping through dog-eared pages, circling guesthouse names with a pen and then walking around town asking door to door if there happened to be a room free. Sometimes there was, sometimes there wasn’t — and that uncertainty was just part of the deal.

Shawarma in Brazil?

But enough of memory lane — back to the current trip and Brazil.

After check-in, hunger hit fast. We wandered out and ended up at Shawarma Star, which was not exactly what we expected to find in Brazil. Sitting there, eating Middle Eastern food in South America, felt a bit odd — but the service was incredibly friendly, the shawarma was delicious, and the bill was very modest.

It turned out the area has a noticeable Middle Eastern influence, and shawarma places are actually quite common around here — so maybe not that strange after all.

So far, Brazil was making a very good impression.

Birds, Boardwalks and the Brazilian Side of the Falls

The following day we Ubered to Parque das Aves, the bird park right next to the entrance of the falls. It turned out to be a fantastic stop, especially with a junior traveller in tow.

Flamingos, parrots, toucans, and even a couple of freely flying hummingbirds to mention just a few — all set in lush tropical surroundings. A calm, colourful way to ease into the day before heading to the waterfalls.

A cute toucan posing for the photo

At the Brazilian side of Iguazú Falls the queues were long. Very long. Thankfully, years of Finnish upbringing had prepared us well for disciplined waiting. After lining up, hopping on a bus, and waiting some more, we finally reached the viewpoints.

From this side, the experience was very different. Standing across the river, we could see places we had walked through just two days before on the Argentinian side. The scale really hit home here — waterfall after waterfall stretching far into the distance.

The final boardwalk led straight into the spray, soaking everyone who dared to walk all the way to the end. The bridge was packed with people, so it was time to enjoy the queues again. There was no escaping the humidity, but at that point the cool water mist felt refreshing rather than annoying. 

More waterfalls, this time on the Brazilian side

After that came a gift shop, a short walk — and naturally, more queuing. This time to get out.

Heat, Hunger and a Very Good Decision

By the time we made it back to the hotel, hunger had fully caught up with us. We hadn’t managed to eat properly all day, the temperature hovered around 35°C, and the step count was… ambitious.

So we did the sensible thing and headed straight to the hotel restaurant.

It turned out to be an excellent call.

The food was ridiculously good, the prices almost suspiciously low, and the whole experience left us wondering if maybe we should’ve planned to stay in Brazil a bit longer...

As if the falls hadn’t already set the tone, the night came with a proper tropical thunderstorm. The kind you only really encounter in tropical parts of the world — loud, intense and close enough to be felt as much as heard. Thunder rolled, lightning lit up the sky, and the hotel itself was vibrating along with it. A fittingly dramatic send-off.

I might have mentioned this before, but I find that kind of weather fascinating. There’s something about the raw power of it that’s hard to look away from.

Sini, on the other hand, would much prefer experiencing it from three layers under the duvet, closed in a soundproof chamber in complete darkness, as far away from windows as possible.

And the boy wasn’t even aware there was thunder at all — he slept like Cinderella on industrial-strength sedatives, despite the storm shaking the whole hotel. Impressive stuff!

One More Day in Brazil: Pool Time and a missed Tomahawk

Our last full day in Brazil was intentionally low-key.

After a fairly full-on stretch of borders, waterfalls, heat and walking, we slowed things down properly. We spent part of the day at a nearby shopping mall, and the rest mostly by the pool. Enjoying the sun, the water and some well-made caipirinha. Not bad at all.

This trip also happened to mark my 50th country visited, and the idea of celebrating that milestone with a massive tomahawk steak had been floating around for a while. But after eating at the mall and letting the relaxed afternoon drift into evening, we decided not to force it. The tomahawk would have to wait.

Back to Argentina: Easy Borders and Heavy Metal

The next day we went for the easiest option possible and booked a direct transfer from our hotel in Foz do Iguaçu back to the Argentinian side, to Raíces Esturión Hotel.

After checking in, we headed out on foot to see the Triple Frontier, where Argentina, Brazil and Paraguay meet. It’s one of those places that’s more about the idea than the spectacle itself — but still worth seeing when you’re already there. We also paid a visit to the Iguazú sign, wandered a bit, and grabbed something to eat before calling it an early evening.

Iguazu sign around sunset

With an early flight coming up, at the hotel we booked our airport transfer in advance and kept the night calm.

The next morning started early. 6:00 am Breakfast, collecting bags, and then into the car. As we drove towards the airport, the driver had Metallica and Rammstein playing on the stereo. The music earned him a bigger-than-usual tip and the fellow metal-head seamed very pleased.

That wrapped up our Iguazú chapter. Beautiful waterfalls and nature, lots of walking in the heat — and worth every step. On to the next one.

Crossing Río de la Plata – from a village to a metropolis

Buenos Aires

After spending two nights in the beautiful Colonia del Sacramento, it was time to set the sails and hop onto a… well, a ferry. Without the sails, but you get the idea. Matias had booked Buquebus ferry tickets online, so it was an easy check-in at the counter, our big backpacks went onto the belt, and we encountered passport control. First Uruguayan, then just a few steps to the next counter that read Entrada Argentina — and hey, we were cleared to enter Argentina.

(Ok, we might have taken a few missteps and even checked the second floor before returning to the right place, as we didn’t catch the sign or the language barrier got in the way a bit.)

After some chilling, it was soon time to board the ferry. I had actually done some research beforehand thanks to @woltersworld — fun guy, lots of helpful travel videos and he seems to love Turku too which is always a bonus). I’d learned that you could pay a little extra and sit more comfortably on the second floor of the ferry — but I forgot to mention this to Matias. Well, luckily the tourist seats were fine and the wind wasn’t too bad. The trip took a little over an hour, so quite manageable.

Arriving at the Buquebus terminal was a bit confusing. I did see a sign that said immigration, but didn’t see anything or anyone in that direction, so we just continued with the others, got our backpacks screened, and suddenly we were in the terminal. It seems Argentina doesn’t really do stamps anymore or double-check passports or fingerprints, so this was a very easy entry.

What wasn’t fun — or easy — was when Matias tried to order a Cabify and it got declined. Shortly after, he received a message from our bank saying the card had been blocked due to suspicious activity. So he had to call them to clarify the situation. After 16 minutes and roughly a 40-euro call, we were finally able to continue our journey and actually see Buenos Aires and our Airbnb in Palermo Soho.

Buenos Aires – the big city

Montevideo was not very touristy — colonial, yes, but we hardly heard any other languages. The first time we did was actually in Colonia, on our first day at Restaurant Picasso, when I heard a distantly familiar tone… and yes, the first language (other than Spanish) we heard on this trip was Finnish 😆. So we knew things were about to change.

Our neighbourhood in Palermo was very lively and felt safe. Our Airbnb was perfect for us and had a balcony where we could sip mate or coffee — or watch the Christmas peace declaration early in the morning. It also had laundry machines and a rooftop terrace with a jacuzzi that needed a reservation beforehand. We tested the jacuzzi once and it was a dream.

   Christmas peace declaration broadcast from Turku to Buenos Aires

Hola!

But there was no time to just sit in the sun — there were playgrounds to be found, empanadas, steaks and choripán to be eaten, steps to be taken, and touristy things to do.

We spent a total of eight days in Buenos Aires and really loved the place. Writing a day-by-day diary would be too much, so I’ll try to sum things up a bit.

We visited Ecopark to see some cute animals for free (maras, a sea lion, giraffes, a monkey, birds etc.). We also went to the Japanese Garden, which was full of tourists with Instagram pictures in mind — cute, but to my taste, meh.

Recoleta Cemetery was creepy, but a must. Our son was intrigued, but I personally struggled a bit with checking out different coffins up close. Amazing place, nevertheless. 

Recoleta

Almost next to it was a museum with a Prohibido no tocar exhibition — basically like Heureka (Vantaa, Finland), where you are encouraged to touch, test and learn science. The area was a bit weird, though, as you had to first pay a small amount to enter the museum area and then more money to access the exhibition itself.

A little pricey maybe (especially if you try to keep costs down), but it’s important to keep the balance when travelling with a kid.

And in Buenos Aires, we — and by we I mean Backpacker Junior — were in great luck: there were truly awesome parks and playgrounds everywhere we went. Highlights in Palermo included the lighthouse park, science park, Ecoparks otter park, palm tree park, and the kid’s favourite: big tree park. Lots of slides, swings and space to run. Hands down the best playgrounds so far.

Buenos Aires playgrounds are 🔥

Hop-on, hop-off and colourful streets

We also did our first-ever tourist bus tour. Ever since following my ex-co-workers world tour on facebook (2022 ish) and picking up clues, tips and tricks, I liked the idea of seeing a big city on wheels. Second floor, roof open, sun shining, wind in your face — ah, I really enjoyed cruising around.

We stopped to see El Caminito. At first it didn’t look like much was happening, but then the colourful streets and tourist traps opened up, tango dancers appeared, and music filled the air. Such a lively and colourful place. We walked around, grabbed a bite to eat, and continued to the next stop.

La Boca's Balcony of Messi

We actually meant to go straight to San Telmo Market, but after spotting a playground in Parque Lezama, we were obligated to do a test round and stop for a while.

Whii!

After that, it was wandering around San Telmo and the Puerto Madero area before hopping on for our final stint back to Palermo Soho — really handy this hop-on hop-off tour — and we can recommend it! Fun to hear more info through the headphones, plus some nice music along the way.

Then I think it’s time to talk about the meat.

I’ll let Mateo write about that 🙂

The Bite That Silenced All Doubt

I’ll happily do the honours for the last chapter, especially when the subject happens to be so meaty 😋. Because in Buenos Aires, you have to talk about the meat. And yes — we did our homework.

At some point during trip planning, I found myself googling the world’s best steak restaurants — partly out of curiosity, partly because meat culture is such a big deal in this part of the world, and I wanted to see if any of the “best of the best” spots would realistically fit our route. And there it was — right at the very top of the list. The best of the best. The world’s number one steak restaurant, sitting perfectly along our route: Don Julio.

A quick look at Google Maps made it even better. Not only was it along our route — it was actually just a couple of blocks from our Airbnb. That sealed it. We booked a lunch table almost two months before the trip.

And as if that wasn't enough, the credentials didn’t stop there. Don Julio has also been ranked #10 on the World’s 50 Best Restaurants 2025 list, and it holds a Michelin star. As our reservation date got closer, a few doubts started to creep in — at least for me. With that kind of hype, could it really live up to expectations? Could they really turn a piece of meat to be an experience? 

Turns out, that question was answered very quickly.

Even before we got to the table, the place was already doing its thing. While waiting outside, we were offered champagne at the front door — a small detail, but it set the tone instantly.

Not all queues are created equal 🥂

Fast-forward to the moment the steak arrived: Ojo de Bife. There was a brief pause before the first bite — that tiny moment where expectations are sky-high and you’re almost bracing yourself for disappointment. 

Then came the bite, and any doubt I had disappeared instantly. The meat practically melted in my mouth, and at one point I literally got chills. 😄 Looking back now, it’s hard to argue — this was very likely the best steak I’ve ever eaten.

This is why we came 🥩🔥

The service was also excellent throughout, and the sides weren’t just an afterthought either — the arugula and cheddar side in particular was muy rico, perfectly complementing the steak.

Premium quality comes with a premium price tag, and that lunch definitely pushed our daily budget well above average. Still — I would do it again in a heartbeat. The experience was unforgettable, and without a doubt one of the highlights of our time in Buenos Aires.

A few days later, on our last full day in Buenos Aires, we made our second big steak stop at La Cabrera, another place with a strong reputation. The meat itself wasn’t quite as perfect as Don Julio’s (still really good — it’s just that the bar has now and for the future been set extremely high...), but the overall experience was excellent: genuinely warm service, and sides kept arriving until the table looked like it had been upgraded to a buffet. The value for money was outstanding, and we left the restaurant very, very full.

The La Cabrera experience, sides very much included

-Sini & Mateo

On the Road, Far From Home

Montevideo, Uruguay

The first week is done, and so far we've made our way from Helsinki to Madrid, from Madrid to Montevideo, and now along the coast to Colonia del Sacramento. Right now I’m writing this from the hotel café in Colonia. Sini and the backpacker junior are at the hotel pool, and the café is almost quiet – just a couple of locals with laptops (probably working), thermoses and mate cups. From the TV in the corner there’s a steady stream of rapid Spanish chatter that I only half understand.

Helsinki: Warming Up the Engines

The whole thing properly started back in Helsinki, on Independence Day. We had breakfast at Sokos Hotel Tripla, where we stayed the night. From there we took the local train out to the airport. At the gate we burned off some energy by playing tag at the little play area near gate 20, and refuelled with hamburgers before boarding. The take-off was exciting (as always) especially for the kid – engines roaring, the ground dropping away – but pretty soon the excitement turned into routine, and the four-hour flight went by surprisingly smoothly.

In Madrid we walked what felt like half a marathon through the airport to get our bags, then happily swapped long corridors for the metro. Three stops later we were at “our” station, and from there it was just a short walk to the hotel. Even though it was already past normal bedtime, we decided to grab something from the hotel restaurant: apple juice and nachos with guacamole, salsa and cheese sauce for the kid, a beer and some excellent jamón ibérico for the adults. Then teeth brushed and lights out – travel day one complete.

Madrid: Soft Landing Before the Big Jump

The next morning came without any real jet lag, just a pleasant “we travelled yesterday” heaviness. We headed down to the hotel breakfast, and managed – with a mix of Spanish and English – to get an egg-free plate organised for the junior straight from the kitchen. Our son’s egg allergy adds its own little twist to travelling and gives our Spanish a proper workout every time we try to explain it clearly enough. Small victories, big impact.

After breakfast we set off to explore Parque Juan Carlos I, just next to the hotel. A short walk from the entrance turned into a much longer one as we realised how big the park actually is. There were wide open paths, odd sculptures, and most importantly: playground after playground after playground. Our 5-year-old happily cycled through slides, climbing frames and whatever else he could find, and we had no reason to hurry him along. 

Later we decided it was time to meet the city centre. We took the metro from Feria de Madrid, changed a couple of times and eventually climbed out at Sol into full-on pre-Christmas chaos. A huge Christmas tree dominated the square, and the streets around it were absolutely packed with people.

From Sol we walked to Plaza Mayor, weaving our way through crowds, lights, stalls and people who all seemed to be going somewhere slightly faster than we were. It was fun for a while, but we escaped down a side street and found Bottega Café, a much calmer pocket of the city. Coffee for the parents, a Coke for the kid, and ten minutes where nobody needed to dodge strollers or apologise for bumping into strangers.

Back outside, we kept walking and suddenly there it was: Palacio Real de Madrid. In front of the palace a group of street performers had drawn a crowd, and we stopped to watch people dancing, flipping and throwing themselves into sideways somersaults that made our small spectator stare with wide eyes.

Street dancers at Palacio Real de Madrid

From there we wandered on to La Latina, where we stopped at Cañas y Tapas: tapas for the adults, French fries for the smaller member of the crew. Afterwards we did a quick run through a supermarket for supplies, and then took the metro back to the hotel with multiple changes. By the time we got off at our stop again, everyone was solidly, satisfyingly tired – exactly the way you want to feel after your first full day in a new city.

Monday in Madrid, preparing for the Midnight Flight

Our last full day in Madrid started much like the previous one: back at the park, hunting for new playgrounds and letting the little one burn off energy. By this point my nose was starting to run a bit, and I was optimistically trying to tame it with allergy meds, convinced it was “just a bit of something in the air”.

From the park we took the metro to Nuevos Ministerios, where we met up with Erika, Sini’s cousin who lives in Madrid, and headed to the Christmas market. Among other things there was a big Christmas nativity-style display full of little figures – and, hidden among them, a small pooping character you were supposed to spot for good luck. Apparently this is actually a real tradition, even if it sounds like something someone invented after a few too many glasses of wine.

From the market we walked to a paella restaurant. We had a reservation and arrived a bit early, so while we waited for our table I took the junior to a nearby playground, where he hesitantly but bravely climbed up a big slide clearly marked for 6–12 year olds – and then did it again. And again. And again. Confidence: unlocked.

Later we hopped on a bus to go and see a park lit up with Christmas lights, and then it was time to head back to the hotel to pick up the backpacks we’d left in storage. We’d almost managed a clean getaway, but Erika’s small gift had ended up at the bottom of my backpack, so she had to come by along with us before we left.

Our flight to Montevideo left just before midnight. The kiddo held on impressively long, staying awake until about 1:30 am, before finally falling asleep curled up in front of the in-flight entertainment screen. The adults weren’t far behind. At that point I was still convincing myself the runny nose and heavy head were just allergies and a long day – the next morning in Montevideo would prove me very wrong.

Montevideo: New Continent, Uninvited Fever

By the time we landed in Montevideo, it was clear that my “probably just allergies” theory hadn’t aged well.

Stepping out of the plane, I felt lightheaded, shaky and very aware of every step between passport control and the exit. After getting our luggage we headed straight to a McDonald’s, because I urgently needed a cold Coke, a coffee and a place to just sit for a moment. Every now and then that light, unreal feeling washed over me again – not exactly the state you hope for when you arrive in a new country. We ordered a Cabify – immediately renamed “käpytaksi” (a pinecone cab) by the junior – and made it to our Airbnb apartment without any extra drama, which was pretty much all I could ask for at that point.

View from our apartment building's rooftop

The rest of that first day in Uruguay was very simple:

I tried to drink as much as I could and admitted defeat to a fever that climbed past 38°C.

Sini did the brave “first supermarket mission” on her own.

Our son made himself at home with toys, TV and whatever energy he had left after a long night.

The supermarket run came with a gentle welcome-to-Uruguay moment at the checkout: three small cans of tuna somehow added up to around ten euros. New continent, new currency, same old “wait, how much was that again?” feeling.

Later, we decided to “just quickly” check out the nearby shopping mall and Tienda Inglesa.

It wasn't the best idea after all.

At some point I found myself standing there with red, tired eyes, staring at a security guard while my brain completely refused to process anything – prices, directions, what we were even trying to buy. The lightheaded, floaty feeling had turned from occasional to pretty much constant. The guard probably pegged me as some kind of spaced-out weirdo, and I’m genuinely surprised he didn’t decide to follow us around just in case.

The next morning started with more fever and those annoying little waves of dizziness that make even normal walking feel like a contact sport. With enough water and medication, things slowly started to improve, and at some point we decided that staying inside all day would feel worse than shuffling around outside.

So we picked a simple mission:

walk to the big Montevideo sign for the obligatory photo

continue down to the beach

grab food and do one more supermarket run on the way back

The little one’s energy levels were much higher than the adults’, which is usually ok – except when combined with selective listening. Let’s just say we got an early training session in “how to handle a strong-willed 5-year-old in a new city when everyone is tired”. No disasters, just a reminder that this trip will be also about parenting as much as the fun stuff.

in the Old Town

Once the worst of the fever had passed, we were ready to actually see Montevideo rather than just its nearest supermarket. We headed to the old town and walked along palm-lined streets toward the harbour area. There was, naturally, a playground on the way — which we had no choice but to test properly.

Palm-lined streets

From there we continued to Mercado del Puerto (the Port Market), where we ate at Cabaña Veronica. It was our first proper steak of the trip, accompanied by really good chimichurri that could probably make almost anything taste better.

After lunch we walked a bit more and ordered a Cabify back to the apartment, cooked something simple for the next day, and called it a day.

Hard Rock Cafe, Huge Sandwiches and a Tiny Ship Captain

The next day turned into a slightly more commercial adventure: our target was Hard Rock Cafe Montevideo.

It was pretty close so we walked there, picked up cold drinks and T-shirts for the grown-ups, and then headed to a nearby playground where junior immediately appointed himself captain of a large play-ship.

On the way back I went hunting for a local delicasy: a chivito – Uruguay’s take on the ultimate steak sandwich, a full-on comfort-food monster. I went to Chiviteria Marcos and ordered a Chivito Marcos Completo to go. It came with fries and the bag must have weighed over two kilograms!

Chivito Marcos Completo

This particular version was big enough that even with both adults eating from it, a sizeable portion still ended up in the fridge for later. Not the lightest meal of the trip, but definitely one of the more memorable ones so far. The rest of the day consisted of chilling in the apartment, researching bus timetables, reserving tickets and spending some time at the pool.

Parque Rodó, Walking Detours and Ninja Manouvers

Saturday started in the best possible way for a 5-year-old: a morning at the apartment complex's pool.

After that, we ordered a Cabify towards Parque Rodó, planning to take the scenic beach route. However the coastal road was surprisingly closed because of a rock concert being set up, so we had to take a detour.

At some point on the walk, our son was riding piggyback on Sini’s back, and her foot caught the edge of the pavement. What followed looked suspiciously like an accidental ninja roll onto the sidewalk – backpack, child and all. Thanks to good reflexes (and maybe a bit of luck), they walked away with just a few scrapes and a higher heart rate. We’ll file that under “things we don’t necessarily need to repeat, but will definitely remember”.

We eventually made it to Parque Rodó and the small local amusement park. Unfortunately the kids’ rides were closed, so we settled for watching other people spinning around in the heat, wandered a bit more through the park and then headed back.

By the end of the day we’d done around five kilometres in the sun, and our short-legged travel companion handled it super bravely on foot. Back at the apartment there was a well-earned ice cream waiting – sometimes the best way to end a day.

Colonia del Sacramento: Turning the Volume Down

We had an early breakfast on Sunday, confidently convinced that packing, tidying up and getting out the door would be quick and painless. It wasn’t — and I have to admit we’re hopeless time optimists even back home, not just in travel mode.. Somehow it always takes longer than planned, and by the time everything was finally ready it was already close to 10:30. Still, we made it just in time, ordered a Cabify to Tres Cruces, and hopped on the bus.

Our ride

About two and a half hours later, we arrived in Colonia del Sacramento.

After a short ten-minute walk we found our hotel, Hotel Leoncia, checked in, dropped the bags in the room and immediately felt the pace drop a notch. 

We didn’t waste much time before heading out again, walking towards the old town. Cobblestone streets, low buildings and that unmistakable “this place has seen things” atmosphere kicked in pretty quickly. Lunch found us at Restaurant Picasso, where we ordered two good sized pizzas.

Colonia del Sacramento

With full stomachs, we slowly wandered back to the hotel. The pizzas had done their job a bit too well, and by the time evening rolled around there was no need for dinner at all.

Monday in Colonia: Tourists 1 – Double Pricing 0

We started by strolling along the main street (Gral. Flores) to a barbershop where the junior got a haircut. The cut itself was perfectly fine — but the place lost a couple of points for trying to charge us double. The price on their website was 400, but suddenly at the counter it was 800. Luckily these tourists were awake enough to pull out a phone, show their own website, and magically the price returned to normal. Funny how that works.

After that we continued via a playground (obviously) and walked a bit out of town to a waterfront restaurant, Puerto Cañón to enjoy refreshments and some loaded fries. Then we headed back towards the old town for coffee, and later ended up at A la Pipetuá Bistro — a place we first walked past, but it looked too good not to try. Great decision: the food was excellent.

Small cobblestone streets of Colonia

From there it was back to the hotel, where I started writing this blog post while Sini and the junior went for a swim. Turning a week of travel into words turns out to be a slower process than moving between countries, and right now I’m finishing this post in Buenos Aires, Argentina. But that’s another story for later...