Mendoza, Argentina lies east of the Andes Mountain range and boasts beautiful women, insanely deep street gutters and a plethora of young people just wanting to get drunk and make some bad decisions.

I honestly can't get over the depth of the gutters. They run along both sides of the street and are between 3 and 6 feet deep, just waiting for the drunk decision makers to plummet to the bottom of them.

In addition to unorthodox drainage systems, Mendoza is well known for its nearby vineyards and wineries, and also area adventure sports. The first day I was in Mendoza I participated in Repelling and Canopying, both activities that require very tight harnesses and tighter wedgies. Uncomfortable as it was, the activities proved to be quite fun, and I was even able to fly like superman for 400 meters over a lake. Sadly, I wasn't wearing my superman underwear from 2nd grade. If worn today, these would probably cause a comparable wedgie to the harnesses.

After the activities, two English friends, one Dutch friend and myself were challenged to a soccer game by 4 Argentineans in the parking lot. After 1 minute the score was 1-1. In the 15th minute I was professionally slide tackled and I still have a rock lodged in the palm of my hand. After 20 minutes we were stalemated at 5-1. The final result was the Argentines winning on a last minute golden goal, 8-1.

This brings me to my next question (and I, in no way, wish to offend with this unfounded generalization): Why is there no middle ground for Englishmen athleticism? They are either kick ass soccer players or not good at all.. Athletic or Gangly. (and in Perter Crouch's case, both).
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