In Córdoba we figured out that nice as the buses are in Argentina, they're only a bit cheaper than flying. The choice between a budget 1 ½ flight and a luxury 15 hour bus was an easy one, and we booked our plane tickets to Mendoza. Anyway, it was fitting that we arrived in Mendoza by plane. Unbeknownst to us at the time, we were about to embark upon a 3 day flashpacking extravaganza - the flight was just the start.

Mendoza is another desert town, but aside from the heat you wouldn't know it. Aquifers originally dug by the Huarpes tribe babble along the sides of every street, and the trees and grass of the many plazas are all well-watered and green.

Like Cafayate, the town and its wineries sit to the east of the Andes, just over the border from Chile. The mountains absorb any moisture that would otherwise rain in the region, leaving them just 220mm a year. The heat, low moisture and stoney soil make the area perfect for growing intense grapes like malbec. The only weather that the winery owners have to worry about are strange hailstorms that ride in from the mountains in late summer, with potentially disastrous results for their vines. We saw many vines growing under netting to protect them from hail.

Having dumped our bags at our hostel in the north of town, we managed to get halfway to the centre before stopping for a leisurely lunch – the sun and the number of nice cafes set out on the wide pavements sucked us in. The cheapest menu del dia came with a house malbec, so we made an early start. And after the stresses of the big city, didn't we deserve another break? No, is the answer, but we took one anyway.

Feeling full and happy, we rolled on to the centre of town to take a look around. Mendoza seems to be a favourite vacation destination for Americans bored of trips to the Napa Valley, and most of them seemed to be staying at the enormous Hyatt casino hotel built next to the central square. We wandered in to see what all the fuss was about, and found an extremely well kitted-out gym. They also had a deal on for a day's use of their facilities that included a free massage. Thinking back to when we last visited a gym – July – we panicked and booked ourselves in for later that week.

Our next task was to find a wine-tasting tour to go on. We had heard good things about The Amphora Wine company, and were on our way to their offices when we passed what we thought was some kind of comedy Argentine Abercrombie & Fitch rip-off – a very preppy, very expensive polo-themed clothes shop. On closer inspection though, the store turned out to be completely legit – there actually is a real polo scene in Argentina, and La Martina is the brand of choice. The window even had a poster for a local polo tournament. Deciphering the print, we realised that it was at the Mendoza Country Club, the tournament finals were tomorrow, and it was free! So having booked our wine-tour we had a three day plan of polo, wine then spa. As I said, flashpacking.

After lunch the next day we dressed up in our smartest clothes and caught a taxi out to the country club. After a little bit of confusion at the entrance gate of the club – 'Polo? What polo?' - our taxi was redirected to a couple of fields across the road. There was no-one there. We weren't sure we were in the right place but we saw a couple of horses running around in the distance so we walked on over, trying to look like we belonged. On one field we found a polo match in progress and a couple of very well-to-do looking mums pushing babies around the boundary in hi-tech buggies. I recognise a WAG when I see one – this was the place! Beside the field, there were a couple of well-branded stalls set up to serve drinks, with tables and leather sofas dotted around, but no-one on them. Clearly we had turned up a couple of hours too early.

We decided to settle in and watched our first match from some wooden bleachers. Even to the uneducated eye, the two teams playing were clearly second-rate – lots of swinging and missing – but it was nonetheless very entertaining to watch. Despite their inability to connect with the ball, the players' skill in handling the horses was incredible. One minute they were twirling in circles in a scrum of other horses, the next turning to gallop downfield chasing the ball – all with only one-hand on the reins as they used the other to wave their mallets around in the air ready to strike... or not, as the case may be.

Sarah and I soon found ourselves a little hot sitting in the sun, and decided to let the wallet take a hit and order some drinks. We sat ourselves down on some stools at the Chandon stall and ordered two glasses of champagne. When I asked how much I owed for the drinks, the bartender looked a little confused for a second, then replied, 'They're all free'. This changed things somewhat. We spent the next few hours watching several polo matches of increasingly quality, whilst sampling a lot of champagne from different local estates. To top things off, the polo club had employed a couple of waiters to walk around the field with plates of fresh empañadas for everyone. This polo crowd certainly know how to live!

Just as interesting as the polo itself (and the champagne sampling) was the people-watching. The crowd that was building as we approached the final games of the tournament seemed to be mostly made up of polo players, their pretty young wives and kids. Talking with our new friend Ramone from La Chamiza estate, we learned that while polo is a bit more common a sport in Argentina than in the UK, it is still the preserve of the rich – to play a match you need at least 4 horses, so you've got to be at least moderately wealthy! There's clearly a degree of status attached to playing the sport too: Those who had played in a match that day changed out of their tops and boots but swaggered around in their muddied white trousers on for the rest of the afternoon, just so that everyone knew that they were players.

The next day, with slightly fuzzy heads, we woke up and ate a big breakfast in preparation for the wine tour. Having been a little bit disappointed with the standard of the free tastings during our wanderings in Cafayate, we had booked ourselves onto a 'premium' tour which meant we would get to taste the best wines from each of the wineries we would visit.

They weren't kidding with the 'premium' label. When the van picked us up, it turned out that there were only four of us on the tour: Sarah, myself, Alan and Judy – two lovely Atlantians – and our guide Maria who gave us a fantastic introduction to Mendoza's history on the drive out to the Luján de Cuyo region.

We were treated like royalty the entire day. At each winery we were met at the gates by a rep, then taken on a completely private tour of their operations – from the vines to the fermentation tanks to the barrels and bottling – before finishing up with a comprehensive tasting. It was great to get to see the more industrial side of wine production that usually kept hidden behind the scenes in Oz & NZ – it felt like we got a feel for wine as a business as well as just a finished product.

The problem with any wine tasting is that there is a lot of interesting information to take in, but also lots of tasty wine to take on. And the latter tends to blot out the former. Despite this fact, we learned a lot about Mendoza, malbecs and torrontés grapes. The marketeer in both of us was very interested to see the number of wine-in-bags stacked up in the Piatelli factory: Their principle export market is the US, and bags now make up a significant proportion of their volume. Foil bags ('goon bags' for the Aussies out there) actually keep the wine in a better state than bottles do, and are ideal for a market where wine is mostly served by the glass. Consumers aren't quite ready for the modern ugliness of these silver bags yet though, so most restaurants put them inside twee little wooden casks that are displayed behind the bar.

The pinnacle of the tours' premiumness came at lunch, which we enjoyed in a private dining room at Bodega Ruca Malen's. Sipping aperitifs out on our very own balcony overlooking the vineyards, the chef himself came up to introduce each of the five courses and the wines chosen to match them. I think he must have thought we were a bit simple sitting there with dazed grins on our faces, dumbstruck by our good luck.

There had to be a downside to all this indulgence of course. The next day after a long lie-in we had to drag ourselves to the gym. We did have the gym to ourselves when we got there though – probably a good thing as we sweated out two days' worth of alcohol, limping along on the treadmills. It also meant we got control of the massive flatscreen TV, and so got to watch Ali with Will Smith. The motivational training scenes definitely helped us through the trauma of being back in a gym after so long. And the massages at the end of it all helped too.