Before heading back to Argentina, we thought we'd spend a day in Colonia, a World Heritage Site described as a must-see day trip from Buenos Aires. It's a pretty little place, with cobblestone streets and lots of flowers, founded by the Portuguese in 1680 as a look-out to keep an eye on Spanish activities, and also to smuggle contraband across the water to the Argentine capital. So quite a chequered past. The main problem today is....there simply isn't that much to do. Even 24 hours is a stretch to fill – much like in Melaka in Malaysia, we spent most of our stay waiting for it to be time to leave again.

We did pay a visit to the lighthouse, which somewhat bizarrely is in the middle of town, attached to the ruined walls of an old convent. No explanation why. I like to think it was to catch escapee nuns, but I am sure the reality is based on geography, eroding rocks and whatnot. There was a nice view from the top, although not masses to see......The Lonely Planet talked glowingly about the city's 8 museums – we stuck our heads into a couple but they didn't look very good, so we decided to save our remaining pesos for nice coffee at “Colonia's best-kept secret,” a little cafe run by an Argentinian woman who had lived in Shepherds Bush for about 6 years during the economic crash in her homeland, returning a couple of years earlier. We reminisced about London and admired the enormous collection of English books lining her shelves (unfortunately not for swap or sale).

Our principle entertainment in Colonia came in the form of a couple of characters we met. The first was an American man called Robert, who judging by his appearance must have been travelling for some time: his dress sense seemed a little warped – lurid green wife-beater teamed with green shorts and a brightly coloured Peruvian-striped flat cap. He was also an environmental zealot, and proudly told us about the changes he'd made in his own lifestyle to minimise his carbon footprint – selling his car to use public transport and, more disturbingly, foregoing toilet paper for the old-fashioned “Indian method,” as he described it. That's hand and water, for you and me. Yuck. We resisted the urge to tell him that we were owners of an enormous carbon footprint, for fear of the consequences.....

Friendlier and better house-trained were the dogs we met in the centre of town. As those of you who've been following our travels will know, James has a bit of an affinity with dogs, and has made a fair few canine friends around the world. In Colonia it seems, stray dogs are more starved of attention (and food) than elsewhere. During breakfast we were befriended by one hungry mutt, who sat by our table the whole time, on the off-chance of receiving a titbit or two. James patted him on the head once, and that was it – friends for life. As we left, he followed us, and was quickly joined by a couple of others – a stately brown collie and a skinny black labrador. They followed us across town, making quite a grand procession walking alongside James, leader of the pack. I am not sure quite what the locals made of it, especially as at one point we were 5 dogs strong, walking down the busy mainstreet! The three loyal ones even waited outside for us whilst we went up the lighthouse, running off occasionally just to check we hadn't walked off without them. I don't think I've ever had such a friendly reception as I did when we returned – the black lab came scampering over, tail wagging frantically, and jumped right up on her back paws, front paws roughly on my chest, all the better to say hello. Very cute indeed.

It was very odd to hear the news of early snowfall in the UK – coming as it did, on the 1st December, when we were at the beach. Uruguay is famous (amongst Argentinians and Brazilians at least) for the quality of its beaches, and feeling in need of a bit of a tan before we head home, we headed east for a few days.

Our first stop was La Paloma, a little beach town about 4 hours from Montevideo. We did little but lie on the beach, nap and read during our 2 days there, although the timing of our visit was notable in that it coincided with the 'Day of the Gnocchi.' This occurs on the 29th of each month, the day before payday, when people were usually so poor that they couldn't afford to eat anything other than these cheap potato dumplings. Today, often gnocchi is only available on menus on this day, so we had to sample some. Coupled with bolognaise sauce and a 1 litre bottle of Pilsen, one of the local beers, it was absolutely delicious.

From La Paloma we headed west to Punta del Este, the “party capital” of Uruguay, where the beautiful people come to dance at the nightclubs and gamble in the casinos. Or at least, they do in high season, which, we discovered, only really lasts between Christmas and Carneval in February. James had a vague desire for us to go out but his plans were foiled: most of the clubs only open on weekends in low season (and we were there mid-week). Just as well really, considering a) our regular bedtime of 11pm is a good 3 hours before the clubs even open and b) after 9 months on the road, I am not sure even our smartest remaining clothes would pass muster with any self-respecting bouncer.

The centre of Punta is meant to be a little like Surfer's Paradise in Oz, so we decided to stay in Manantiales, a small suburb 20 minutes out of town which is home to Bikini Beach (sponsored by HSBC Premier). The upside of being here in off-season was there were no crowds: in fact, we had the beach pretty much to ourselves. The area is pretty good for surfing but our desire to hire boards for the day was quickly overpowered by a stronger desire to just lie on the beach and soak up some sun. I did rouse myself enough to go for a paddle in the sea a couple of times, but the water was so icy cold I didn't last long.

Away from the empty beaches Manantiales was a hive of activity, with lots of businesses preparing for the official 'seasonal re-opening' next weekend and lots more in the process of construction – we were very sad not to be able to pay a visit to “Glam Coffee” which offered take-away drinks, a fairly new concept in these parts. Presumably the 'glam' part refers to the models who will be acting as baristas. We were there however, for the opening of Cactus and Pescado, a gorgeous fish restaurant overlooking the beach. We only meant to stop in for a quick lunch before catching the bus into town, but the restaurant had a 3 course menu del dia which included a free glass of wine – clearly too good a deal to pass up. After washing the meal down with an additional bottle of wine, we realised that we had accidentally had another Quality Lunch, decided that the town probably wasn't worth the effort, and collapsed on the beach for the rest of the afternoon.

Arriving in Montevideo after a month in Patagonia was something of a relief – not quite of the scale of our arrival in Salta after Bolivia, but it was definitely a good to be back in a city again. And Montevideo, walkable in scale and with a population of just 1.5m people, was the perfect place in which to readjust to urban living. Unlike the airport, which seemed brand new, with a futuristic design and more brands than we'd seen in weeks. It was a little overwhelming.....