Friday of our second week.

This is the least like a holiday we have ever had. We seem to have been absorbed into the place in some odd way. We felt sure the key was this B&B house, its ours and others, albeit, temporary ordinary home, for so many ages and nationalities; we go out from here and return each day. A young Argentinian lady, from Patagonia whose accented Spanish totally defeated my attempts to understand her words, extolled to us the virtues of vegetarian food, very strange in Argentina, went out and bought sample meals for us to cook before she left for home today. That is just one of many links that exist in just living here, the laundrette man, the Coto supermarket check out girl without even thinking of our ever-present housekeeper Maria, walking linked arms with us to the green grocers to get the mornings oranges.
Last night's meeting with the Argentinian English speakers was another example.
We just walked in; an extra table was added to the existing ring of tables and chairs and we were part of the mix of 20 plus, and the conversation burbled on.
'Are we all going to talk at once or discuss together as a group?' vainly called out the nominal chairman. Most conversations subsided one persisted ........ 'He's deaf confided the chairman and can only hear himself speak!' The topics ranged from politics, to war, the economy, the nation states, no topic seemed beyond the pale. What on earth decided you to come to this place? You should have had more sense! Was a light-hearted response to account of our travels to date; no Jingoism here. More nice open people, nice ordinary new friends to meet in the street with a kiss to each cheek. Emails exchanged to receive to keep us in the loop as next meeting days are changed to suit the imminent festivities. From the assembly cafe meeting point to a kerb side meal, a bit smelly at times as cars parked near by; but great vantage point to observe Portenos' parking techniques; if the gaps not big enough:just shunt the other cars ahead and astern along a bit; it works a bit like a pin-ball machine!
Thursday saw us at the British Embassy with Irene much comforted by a portrait of Liz hanging in the reception; security tight with cameras and 'phones confiscated and access to loos denied.
British residents records passed over up until the time they were dealt with by the Argentinian authorities but four possible family name uncovered and other venues to follow up.
Tonight our first milonga. It doesn't start until 11.00 pm, long after Brian's normal horlicks time.