On Monday, we go up to the cliffs, we the gauchos have found some deep caves with petroglyphs. They’re clearly ancient, but getting there is a long ride (and some serious belly-crawling through pitch-black, narrow, chimney-pipes between caverns). Outside, the views go clear across to the Volcano Lanin (which will be a constant companion, apparently).

At Estancia Huechehue for a week. Run by a wonderful Welsh lady called Jane Williams (at the back). For our fist couple of days, the only other guest who’s riding with us is a Swiss osteopath, who’s a good rider, but painfully out of practice: the long, fast canters play hell with her back. (Be warned - you need to ride well and be in good shape, to keep up with Jane!)

Arrivals (at Cabañas El Tero)

Karen discovers that here, a Cafe Cubano is more like an Irish Whisky with cinnamon a and aviation fuel. (at Aeroparque Jorge Newbery (AEP))

Last leg: Buenos Aires to San Martin de Los Andes, Patagonia. I do love the way this feels like they built an airport in Central Park. (at Aeroparque Jorge Newbery (AEP))

Starbucks receipt in the 21st Century. It ought to be stamped and punched, to be strictly Argentinian. (at little rose)

May as well get run over in style: Buenos Aires traffic (at Banco de la Nación Argentina - Recoleta)

Just in time for the last of the Jacaranda blossom (at Palermo Soho)