Brett, he of the 10k fame, invited us to his birthday do. Originally it was planned to head up to Tigre and take over an island in the delta for the weekend (that would have been renting, not taking over in any military sense).

But plans change and we got the word to be at the Lobos bus company on Saturday morning, food was being arranged (with the exception of lunch that day). We met Brett's sister (who's travelling, in the Aussie manner, and has been for the last five months) and a bunch of his friends, a mix of French, Spanish and Argentine.

Lobos is a little town an hour and a half away on the little maxi buses (a little bigger than a minibus but not your full sized coach). We were heading to Club de pesca de Lobos, on the side of the Lago de Lobos, the big lake.

It was a very relaxing weekend, lots of mate, lots of lazing about, a little bit of rowing on the lake. Hector and Paola, an Argentine couple, brought the food in their van. Hector brought his fishing gear and we whiled away an afternoon sitting on the pier drinking beer, watching Hector cast his oversized rod and watching Oscar trying to untangle Hector's tackle (ooerr missus!) which took him three hours.

In the top picture, Liz is chatting to Charlotte, strangely ignoring the beer. It was a change to be speaking to non native speakers of Spanish, easier to understand than the Argentines who talk at supersonic speeds.

In the evening we had, what else but an Asado. Hector (the fisherman) underestimated and only brought 7 kilos of meat (!!!). The Argentine method of preparing the asado involves making a fire first (usually from sticks collected from near the grill, no firelighters here) and, once that's hot enough, tipping a bag of charcoal on top. Once the coals are hot, they're spread under whatever grills you have. It was bloomin' lovely.

Accommodation was in a casita rodante (literally a little house that rolls), known to the rest of us as an ancient caravan. A lot of people camp at Lobos (right next to their parrillas, which are permanent, and laid out in sets of four, with matching concrete tables twenty feet from each other. In the summer there can be as many as 1800 people there, I can't imagine the sight of 500 grills all going at once) but there's the option of the caravan too. No amenities, no gas, no water, just something with a bed and a door and a chance to avoid the mozzies.

Sunday was like a repeat of Saturday only windier and without the grilling. Oh and we had a breakfast of what seemed like sugar and mate (in reality, mate, with sweet biscuits slathered with dulce de leche (caramel)).

My stress levels are now critically low.....   ¶ 1:36 PM