Now, there are many good penguin-watching spots in Patagonia, which is one reason why the inhabitants of this region are nicknamed 'pingüinos' (including current president Néstor Kirchner who is not only Patagonian by birth but has a big nose and a complete lack of physical co-ordination). But ground zero for pinguphiles is without question the region surrounding the Atlantic coastal city of Puerto Madryn, an area which includes the world-renowned Peninsular Valdes, a UNESCO protected isthmus which is to the discerning nature lover what the buffet at the Bellagio is to the discerning glutton.

Valdés is the best place on the planet to watch whales having sex (between August and November) and is a free-range zoo of swooping, wading, waddling things all year round.

None of this could be any groovier. But there's a problem, and it's the classic one of an infrastructure ill equipped to deal with a tourism boom. While the whales and penguins and sea lions and whatever have been coming here to swim, shag and sunbathe for thousands of years, foreigners have only started coming in large numbers to watch them over the last five. A decade ago, if you wanted to find a whale you first had to find an elusive old salt named `El Flaco', who was about 250 years old and was rumoured to have sired a number of children by his sister and, more importantly, to own a boat. Now the boat owners come looking for the tourists.

But it's easier to get a few skiffs together than to build decent accommodation. And of all the major Argentine tourist centres, the Patagonian Atlantic coast is probably the one with the worst, or perhaps more accurately the least interesting, hotel scene. There are plenty of decent, clean and rather overpriced three-star lodgings, but few places to either inspire, sooth or stimulate the senses.

None of the following will let you down, however, and a couple of them are outstanding:

Puerto Madryn

[Photo: IgnacioErrico]

Hotel Bahia Nueva

The top choice for Puerto Madryn on the TripAdvisor board, with users lauding the 'wonderful staff', 'clean rooms' and 'breakfast room overlooking the oceanfront'. This is nice because we've always liked the Bahia: it's been doing a good job for a number of years and is now reaping the rewards. It's charming and chintzy and, like Patagonia itself, has a rather eccentric layout.

Hotel Península Valdés

They've been working on the English translation of their website for years at the Valdés and it's not going well. After exhorting the user to 'Choice your language' on the homepage, the rest is silence. In this and many other ways this is a cookie-cutter Argentine three-star; clean, comfortable and cream-coloured. But once you've looked out of your window and seen a whale waving back at you with its tail, you're liable to feel a tad less cranky about the lack of Wi-Fi.

El Gualicho

This is a top-notch youth hostel with an old-school vibe, i.e. it's geared more towards organised activities and inter-lingustic Scrabble marathons than balls to the wall hedonism. It has its own travel agency so you can hop in a 4x4 and go do something at pretty much any hour of the day. They specialise in diving trips, giving you the chance to get up close and personal with all that aquatic life you've been reading about.

Best of the rest

Hostería Solar de la Costa, Hotel Tolosa

Península Valdés

Hostería The Paradise

It's a strange looking place this, kind of Italianate and Brutalist at the same time, like you'd imagine a Tuscan geriatrics' home. But as one of the few lodgings on the Valdés Peninsular itself, it's a winner, saving you the trouble of a bumpy bus ride from Puerto Madryn and giving you the chance to explore this incredible nature reserve at your own pace. As well as its 12 attractive rooms, The Paradise also has a very popular pub and restaurant, specialising (can you guess?) in seafood. The menu also includes 'naturist homemade dishes'. Best not to think about that too hard.

Faro Punta Delgada

Website glurge alert: "At the end of the earth, where lonely moors stretch as far as the eye can see, a different outstanding beauty captivates you. Patagonia beats on the Peninsula where new sensations feed your eyes and soul..." Question for the Faro's owners: If your hotel is situated at 'the end of the earth' how can it be that these lonely moors 'stretch as far as the eye can see'? We'll forgive them that because El Faro is a very good hotel and has a great back story, viz. it started life as a regional mail office, was converted into the Argentine navy's casino, and ended up as the most upscale lodging on the Peninsular, packed in season with rich North Americans whose lives will be meaningless until they've seen an orca gobble up a seal. The prices are high for what are basically three- to four-star facilities, but the location is everything. One nice perk is that English speaking guides are included in the rate.

Estancia La Ernestina

If you're adamant about seeing a killer whale snack on a defenceless seal - and it is pretty cool - then your best chance is at Punta Norte, the northernmost tip of the Peninsular. And the place to stay is here, in the somewhat workaday but brilliantly located La Ernestina. Rooms and food are pretty basic, but the guides know their stuff, and in any case, no one's here for the amenities.

Estancia Rincón Chico

We don't like elephant seals as much as we like penguins. It's not the fact that they're ugly that bothers us, it's their attitude towards personal hygiene. They smell pretty bad to start with, they have no little bird friends to pick the crap out of their teeth, and they have non-stop sex on the beach for three months with a variety of partners without so much as a splash or douche between sessions. Stay upwind, we beg you. If you manage that, it's one hell of an experience watching these mammoths fight and fuck, and Rincón Chico (hidden corner), with its private beach, is the place to be when the seals arrive from Antartica (around August). It's a remote but comfortable working ranch, with a serious commitment to biodiversity and sustainability and a pair of lovely owners in María and Agustín (young, unpretentious and not up their own asses, unlike 90 per cent of their fellow Argentine ranch owners).