*PICS ADDED* Polo on a glorious day...MORE rain, and a house party

I´m getting thoroughly bored of this crappy - torrential! - and FREEZING weather. I don´t mean to go on, but abroad´s meant to be HOT! On the plus side, I´ve been told Posadas is usually only this grim for two months of the year.

It appears we hit Posadas for those exact 2 months.

To make matters worse, my ex-colleagues at the Telegraph (or what´s left of them, a raft of redundancies today...8000 miles across the pond and I´ve still got my ear to the ground, eh!?) are sweltering in London town with FANTASTIC weather, although I am consoling myself that they are mainly observing this from a freezing air-con´d office. I heard my own boss got the heave-ho...chances of me getting my May bonus are nearing zero I fear then - no wonder she and her deputy had not replied over the last couple of weeks...
___________

Sunday in Posadas, however was a gorgeous sunny and hot day, perfect, in fact for a spot of Polo.

So Ali & Kirsten, C & I headed off with a simple picnic for 4 packed in my big gold holdall (glam even when backpacking, you´ll be glad to know) for the day. Yum!

This wasn´t just any old Polo, either. The Posadas Polo Tournament Finals no less. With the local army teams playing. Military polo players. Double Yum, eh, girls?!

So for the occasion, I decided to premier my cute black bubble-skirt knee-length dress on (way more stylish than the Primarni label suggests), pulled in with a bright fuschia pink sarong, tied kimono-style, my little black patent pumps (they´ve stopped rubbing - hoorah!) and my CK mahoosive sunnies for a bit of Polo WAG chic. Bare legs for the first time in weeks - yay!

V texted us to tell us it started at 1, so thought we´d have missed a game by rocking up at 2.

They were still prepping the joint. Raking out the wood chip, setting up refreshments, etc.

1pm Argentinian time, obviously!

Looking round, I noticed that these were the monied Argies of Posadas...they looked pretty much like Sloanes at our Polo matches, but more tanned and somehow more glamorous-looking; chinos, shirts and loafers for the men, shirts, jeans, boots, designer shades and expensive highlights for the women.

Their kids, swanning round in their jodphurs and riding boots, had a life so far removed to the refugio kids, I found myself thinking.

We settled in and ravenous, tore into our fresh bread, cheeses, grapes, soft drinks, water, crisps & biscuits, and these weird slightly-stale-tasting sweet snacks with the texture of Wotsits, but in different colours and tasting faintly of bubblegum. K & I found them strangley addictive though.

We actually gave the wine a miss what with being hideously hung over from the night before, when we´d met K&A for a few drinks at midnight (having watched Saw 3 and a teen slasher flick called Jekyll & Hyde on DVD with Flor & Silvina - just what you need before heading out at midnight!), and then ended up invited to a house party (of a guy K works with at El Puma, the conservation project). A house party in Argentina! We really are locals! Ali says it feels like we all live here, and she doesn´t really want to go home. I know what she means, life is certainly simpler out here. No high-pressure targets, laid-back any-time-will-do lifestyle, siestas...

It was the most random, wild party, about 100 people in a packed tiny flat, *very* dark (I don´t mean it was sinister, I mean the only light came from the computer´s playlist) and it reminded me of frat parties I´ve seen in crappy American teen movies.

Frat-style houseparty. We passed on the offer of this particular beverage

Can´t remember his name, so we´ve nicknamed him F.J. (Fat Jesus), really nice guy who invited us to the rugby. What do you mean, which one?!

Our gracious hosts, and K

We had fun whilst we recognised the music (I think they decided to play their few British tracks - mainly Fatboy Slim, and randomly, Erasure remixes - in our honour when we arrived - but then it quickly deteriorated into the music of local choice (and the dreaded Power nightclub), "Coombia". Probably spelt differently, but that is how it´s pronounced.

We also got invited to watch some of the boys play rugby on Monday and as we have the day off again (school birthday) we agreed.

Polo and rugby in one weekend! Tally ho! Let it be said, I have never attended a match of either in the UK, ever.
____

I digressed wildly.

Where was I?! Oh, yes, like you, still waiting for the Polo to start. Finally, 2 hours after we arrived (at 4pm, 3 hours later than scheduled...those KERRAZY Argies!), the tannoy came on for more than the several soundchecks we´d heard until now.

It was meant to be for the kids, but Ali & I were in fits getting pics of each other as ´pilots´ whilst waiting for the polo to start.

We managed to piece together the information, that as the rain had been so heavy of late, the fields were dangerous for a full blown tournament, and so as to not disappoint, the army would do a ´Polo demonstration´ for us. After all that!

We were also promised an army band. In the end, a few of them walked out to our over-excitement (remember, we´d waited 2 hours for this!), and then randomly, everyone turned back and walked back to their bus, bar one solitary trumpeter to herald the start of the demo. Maybe it was too dangerous for them to play due to rain yesterday too?!

Fit military polo player, no 4 shirt (click for close-up)

We were promised a band. This is what we got.

The Polo: they played 6 chukkas, all of which didn´t last very long, we weren´t quite sure when they scored and it was over very quickly.

Action shot

I likened it to the worse types of romantic encounters...was that IT?!

Still we had a grand day out, a laugh, it was free, and it´s another experience.

Better go, Flor want to use the computer again...