GRAEME'S BLOG DAY FIVE

Exterior: Wide Pampas sky; rich pastureland dotted with grazing horses.
Sound FX: Plangent classical guitar in minor key.
Camera zoom from distance to wide angle, focus pulled in tandem

Enter Right: The Man with No Name, slouched in an American saddle, mounted on a world-weary school pony immune to any ill-informed but self-important kicks and nudges, once bright tourist-trap poncho worn and faded after only 15 minutes, leatherette gaucho hat slightly too small and not really the look anyway.

Sound FX: music swells to a climax
Pull to CloseUp

Hat brim rises slowly to reveal silver-moustachioed “Colonel” Martin Sanders' thousand yard Patagonian wilderness stare.

Sanders: “Squeeze the chicken. Go on, squeeze the rubber chicken.”

Cut to Interior; 500 seat restaurant building.
Sound FX: Argentinian folk songs. Sound like desperate love songs if you speak no Spanish, actually have lyrics like “I really hate going to B&Q on Bank Holidays but the wife insists”.

Various Argentines in pirate costumes walk around taunting defenceless Brits and Taiwanese with groaning platters of grilled meat. George the Tango demonstrator is scanning the crowd for the best looking boy. The boys are scanning George's dancing partner for any sign of mutual recognition in the hope of private lessons.

Suddenly inspiration strikes and up to the stage flood Maidenhead U16s. “I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now” rings out and the Simon Cowell employee at the back of the hall calls the office.

Fantastic excursion to the Santa Susana Estancia. “Any visit starts well if you are greeted with an empanada and a livening cup of wine.” (Copyright Avery, P.) Apparently the empanada recipe is a secret one passed down from a Maidenhead lorry driver. The horse riding/herding demonstration was quite brilliant, like the sunshine. Everyone who wanted to and was allowed to got to ride a horse, the Asado was succulent and the demonstration of ball dancing was just as astonishing as it sounds.

Good day. En route now to pass boys to their billet hosts and, hopefully, drain an alternative Buenos Aires hotel of a week's worth of hot water. St Brendan's can probably smell us coming.