If you're an 80s baby like me, odds are you also grew up singing "Under The Sea" along with Sebastian the lobster and longing for a mane of ranga-red hair.

Well, the things you learn on Wikipedia...

"Seachange or sea change is a poetical or informal term meaning a profound transformation; big significant change. The expression is Shakespeare's, taken from the song in The Tempest, when Ariel sings,

'Full fathom five thy father lies,
Of his bones are corals made,
Those are pearls that were his eyes, Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea change,
into something rich and strange,
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell, Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them, ding-dong, bell.'..."

"Ariel". What a perfectly ironic moniker for the singing mermaid who longs for life on the land!

Move over Paris. Forget New York. London who? Buenos Aires does everything you do, and more (and at half the price).

A sophisticated metropolis of European architecture, Argentina’s capital city is unlike anything you’ve seen in South American travel brochures. Forget gaudy colours (well, excepting the suburb of La Boca), llamas and gauchos.

Think cupolas, wrought iron balconies and deciduous trees. Think bustling nightlife, first-class restaurants and serious cafe culture. Think cutting-edge art, fashion and music at every turn.

There’s a reason why this place is nicknamed “the Paris of the South”. Old theatres are restored to their former glory and turned into palatial bookstores. Old folks (and young) dance tango on cobblestone streets. Strangers discuss politics over morning coffee and medialunas (literally “half-moons”, i.e. croissants - standard breakfast fare). Street art adorns the walls of every laneway. Whole suburbs are dedicated to antique stores and vintage clothing.

It’s Melbourne - on steroids.

Until 2001, a whimsical visit to Argentina was prohibitively expensive for the average lackey - the peso was (farcically) pegged to the US dollar. Then came the devastating economic crash that saw almost half the population slip beneath the poverty line. Since then folks here have been picking up the pieces, and - touch wood - it appears they are making a miraculous recovery. In the meantime, the rest of the world - enticed by the kinder price tag, no doubt - has slowly discovered what the porteños (born-and-bred Buenos Aires-ians) have known all along: here is where it’s at.

So if you’re in dire need of a seachange (or ocean-change, as the case may be), quit wistfully surfing the Lonely Planet website, and follow these simple instructions:

(1) Enrol in a beginners’ Spanish course (many people here speak English, but let’s shuck the stereotype of the arrogant Western tourist who can’t even say please or thankyou in their host country’s language), (2) book your flights and (3) warn your parents you may never return.