Raising the steaks in Buenos Aires

I had an image of the city of Buenos Aires before I had even got there. One of colonial buildings, sun-kissed parks and tango dancers on every street corner.

Old friends and new had raved about it, letting days drift into weeks there and never wanting to leave. But I soon snapped out of my rose-tinted daydream as we stepped out on the city's streets for the first time.

Getting splashed by air conditioning units above our heads, dodging dog poo on every uneven pavement and inhaling the fumes from the frantic traffic, I began to wonder what all the fuss is about.

One place we wanted to see first was the Plaza de Mayo, just around the corner from our hostel. The scene of many protests, rallies and speeches, including Evita's famous speech (not Madonna’s), I was sad to see the battered monuments and splatterings of graffiti. The hundreds of pigeons seem to be having a good time though, and some scruffy protesters had set up camp opposite the Casa Rosada.

First impressions? No bueno. Quite frankly, I was disappointed. But as we spent a few more days in the city, I started to see Buenos Aires in a new light. Not the postcard-perfect BA of my daydreams, but the cool, unpretentious, laid-back BA that’s full of energy and life.

Artists are doing their thing in spacey warehouses, musicians have come to town to make it big, tourists are happily soaking up everyday Spanish lessons from enthusiastic locals and markets seems to spring up spontaneously in the narrow streets.

And then there's the steak. We went with our Irish friends Keira and Alan (today, we were Irish too), who knew of a restaurant with huge, melt-in-your-mouth steak for around £7. In fact, it was so good that it rendered us all speechless for a few minutes.

Like all good steak restaurants in BA, the small place was a lively, carnivorous place, with an accordion player dancing between tables; when the steak is this good, it deserves its own theme tune.