Bread.

Back in Buenos Aires after two initially mental and eventually blissful weeks in Blighty. Ah, Blighty. The land of rain, floods, cider over ice, traffic, good curry, road rage, outrageously expensive petrol, drunkeness and dreadful R&B: my new definition of a 'chav' is one who rhymes the word 'umbrella' with the word 'together'.

Or, on the positive side: sense of humour, great village pubs, cricket, good newspapers, good coffee, Jelly Babies, festivals, Mark Kermode, Cornwall... not to mention family and friends.

But it is surprisingly nice to be back, with a bit of tennis yesterday in the sun, 18 degrees and blues skies in the middle of winter, and another week before we go back to work.

A bit sleepy with jetlag last night, we decided to hire a movie. At the checkout, we collected our movie and were given a little biscuit, and a loaf of bread. 'Promotional offer', the lady said, as if that explained something.

Freakin' bizarre country.

Rain

So, this was on Day 3 in Buenos Aires. Monsoon rains towards the end of summer.

I woke to insane rain but having packed only the essentials, I had no waterproofs.

Fortunately, the shower curtain hadn't been put up in the flat, so I wrapped myself in that and got on with it.

Three blocks to where the bus picks us up. Ridiculous looking, but dry...