Strange country

Well it just is. Quite apart from the weird customs, and the fact that they litter everywhere, their prices make no sense at all.
You can get almost anything here if you can pay, but don’t expect to get a washing machine or any other white goods without a kings ransom. Then there was the price of beer in Gratto bar. It’s just nuts. In contrast beef is so cheap you end up buying too much. Then there are the utilities almost a hundred times cheaper than the UK.
This morning I decided to change the plug on our boiler. It just looked ugly with the cable coming out the wrong way. So I went to the fereterria and bought two. $35 that is £1.60 more or less. They would cost a fiver each at home.
Anyway we are off to school again on the subte $4.50. These 25 pence’s are adding up.
My confirmation from Azimo came just before we were due to leave, and I did not want to carry that much money around with me. So we decided to pick it up after school.
It was not only Viv who’s head was mashed today. After a whole lot of indefinite objects, I could take no more. I was ready for bed, not for going out.
We got off the subte at Carlos Gardel and walked the three blocks to the office address we had been given. The shutters were down and there was no sign of opening hours. The gate was not locked so I stuck my head in. There was a guy behind a screen waving at me to “Get out”. I was having non of it “que hora abierto?” I asked. He waved again, so I asked again, in a louder voice. He relented and said “Diez a cinco”. So if it closed at five there was no way I was going to get there after school, I would have to come back in the morning. I thanked him and left.
We stopped to buy some provisions, but at the local amacen I missed my number. Nobody was going to serve me now unless I started again. Just too tired and fed up, I screwed the flimsy ticket up and left. I got some cheese in the chino instead.
We sat on the balcony drinking coffee and eating media lunas, then we took a walk down to Plaza Monseñor de Andrea. I rescued a youngsters ball from the fountain and then we crossed the road for ice cream.
You never quite know what you are getting here. We got large cones with nuts and covered with chocolate. Sort of a hand made choc ice. It was delicious, but I was covered in it by the time I had finished. So while Viv delicately wiped her hands with tissue, I plunged into the fountain again. (just my hands, you understand).
It was getting cool, I have no idea what happened to the famous heat, but it was time to head for home.
Some baked potatoes then bed, too tired for tango tonight.