GRAEME'S BLOG DAY THREE

A cold shower is not necessarily the best mood lifter after a heavy night. The hotel management promised to see to it.

Off went the majority of the party to collect the boys at BACRC and swing straight into the City Tour. Tales of the billets were traded, some taller than others, but no complaints and many good friends had been made.

Pam and I decided that a little quiet time was called for and opted out. We grabbed a taxi and went straight to La Boca, a bohemian, touristy quarter with cafes, gift and arts and craft shops and stalls and tango demonstrators. We sat in the winter sunshine over a cervesa or two and watched the world go by. Sure enough, along with the world came Leo and some chums, searching for some grub between the City Tour and the Boca Juniors stadium visit. Meeting back at the bus supposedly at 1:40pm, the party did not get going until about 2:30 because of slow service. Oddly enough, the tourists were really, like, whatever, while the Latin American tour guide was boiling with frustration at this laid-back manyana attitude. Off went the bus at last and into the Parilla Paraiso went Pam and I for a leisurely grilled chicken and Malbec interlude. A bit of shopping (llama wool not something you see in Monsoon) and another gentle stroll and back to the hotel for a siesta.

Meanwhile there was a rugby tour going on – the City Tour was OK apparently, mainly centred on a cemetery, and the tomb of Evita Peron. “Is that where Madonna is buried?” was definitely the question of the day. The guide seemed keen to list the reasons so many Argentines die early – cholesterol from red meat, car accidents from red mist, suicide from red ink on balance sheets. The Boca Juniors Bombanero stadium tour was well received and the boys' did their impression of fanaticos climbing the screen. Everyone met later at the Hotel Presidente, a location with hot water, and where the boys were staying that night. The boys were sent out in groups of 5 or more to find their own dinner and the grownups dined together at El Establo, Paraguay 489, an old traditional BA restaurante. Massive Bifes de Chorizo (sirloin steaks) and good salad and chips for las vegetarianas. No doubt most of the boys had Triple Macs.

Earlyish night for everybody, not surprisingly.