In El secreto de sus ojos (The Secret In Their Eyes), both a book and an Oscar-winning film, the rape and murder of a young married woman from the 1970s is reinvestigated by two police officers who have an on-off romantic relationship. It’s a beautiful, tense, haunting film which revisits the dark days of the 70s, and what happened in Argentina at the time. Argentina was under military dictatorship, and the period was known for the “disappearances”—students and activists murdered by the state. Mothers of the disappeared still protest in the centre of Buenos Aires, giving voice to those they have lost.

In the 1920s, Argentina had one of the biggest and most successful economies in the world but it has never fully recovered from the Wall Street Crash of 1929. Since then, it’s seen political and economic instability, dictatorships, populism, and periods of hyperinflation. It’s an economy and culture that’s almost impossible to describe.

In the 1960s, Argentina was awarded to host the World Cup in 1978. By that time, the political situation had changed completely and its hosting was the most controversial up to that point. The Dutch contemplated not competing, although they eventually reached the final; Johan Cruyff, the greatest player in the world, didn’t play because of kidnapping threats. But it was also one of the most evocative tournaments, with ticker tape raining down on the pitch as Argentina won 3-1 in the final. That febrile atmosphere is reflected in The Secrets in Their Eyes as the police chase the suspect through the crowd at a football match, the crowd roaring and chaotic.

Buenos Aires dominates Argentina, its 13m population a third of Argentina’s. It’s big, wild, and almost European, its grand buildings looking out towards the Atlantic ocean. There are also dangerous areas which have a seedy, underworld character. I stayed in Boca, an area known for its working-class, port-dock character. The football club is Boca Juniors, who play in blue and yellow, supposedly because the club’s founders chose the kit on seeing a Swedish boat arrive at the port. There are murals of Maradona who is viewed as a God: there’s is actually a church to Maradona which Argentinian footballers are members of.

A turning point in modern Argentinian history is the Falklands War in 1982. These are a tiny set of islands, called the Maldives in Spanish, in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean which belong to the UK. The two countries had been in negotiations over ownership of the islands, but the military dictatorship decided to invade which led to the brief, fractious war. That led to the fall of the dictatorship, the intervention of the IMF in Argentina’s economy which was supposed to bring stability but made Argentina reliant on the US dollar, and a continual boom and bust financial situation.

This all makes it difficult for Argentinian winemakers. In the 1980s, much of the old-vine Malbec—brought to the country in the 1850s—was ripped up, vines which would now produce quality and profitable wines. As Argentina emerged from the military dictatorship, the wines of Mendoza, mostly from Malbec, became fashionable internationally as trends moved away from Europe. Argentinian winemakers had, in effect, to start again rather than build on previous plantings. And as the economy goes up and down, the cost of making and selling wine fluctuates greatly.

The Argentinian accent has an Italian lilt to it, and some of the most famous footballers and wineries have Italian names: Messi, Maradona, Zannetti, Zuccardi. An obvious connection may be made between Argentina and Spain—and Buenos Aires was the major city of Spanish South America—but the Italian influence has arguably been greater. While Maradona struggled in Barcelona, he exceeded in Napoli. There’s also a British influence: when Argentina won the World Cup in 1986, there was a player called José-Luis Brown. In 2022, when they won the World Cup again, a key player was Alexis Mac Allister (his brother is called Kevin, after the Home Alone character).

It’s an extraordinary country: the high-elevation plantings of Mendoza in the Andes; the plains of Patagonia where there is a Welsh-speaking community (watch Patagonia); and the big, bristling city of Buenos Aires. When I visited the city, Boca Juniors played their major rivals River Plate. I watched the game in a restaurant; outside the streets were empty. After the game, which Boca won, there was a cavalcade of cars slowly driving down the streets with police cars accompanying them. There was so much noise and colour. That’s Argentina: one moment there’s silence, the next it’s a cacophony.