We have just spent the weekend at Dave's Estancia enjoying the cooler air, the gentle chirruping of small birds outside our window and the gentle hum of hungry mosquitoes. But mostly enjoying the peace and quiet of just lying by the pool reading a book or three.

Obviously we couldn't spend all our time sunbathing, horse riding or eating cake, try as I might we had to do some filming as well. According to El Director my handling of the boom mic is a cause for concern.I have to learn to stop fidgeting and stand totally still.In addition I must not make sympathetic noises whilst people are talking; never mind sarcastic comments or rude remarks. I am finding all these new rules very hard to adhere to.El Director is very strict though about larking about and I am about to be demoted to runner if I don't smarten up my act and/or pull up my socks.I am practising looking at the floor as I stand motionless avoiding all eye contact. This film business is nowhere near as glamorous as it looks.

Just looked at the forecast for England, -2 degrees and thick snow. Perhaps I can stand still for a little bit longer.

Filming is interrupted for the Arsenal game, which is shown in the TV room, aka an outhouse with a sofa and a television, which Dave has turned into a little Dave-like sanctuary. You see the theme here? Small room + television + proximity to tea making facilities = Man Heaven. Bri forlornly watches also in the hope that Arsenal will lose. Sadly for him they don't.

Brian bustles about filming the staff doing interesting stuff - saddling the horses, making empanadas and drinking mate (the argentine national beverage, tastes like green tea strained through dirty socks). Our lack of Spanish makes directing them a bit hit and miss, as they tend to stop and look helplessly at the camera every few minutes and won't walk out of shot.Luckily for all Brian has an infinite reserve of patience. Meanwhile I have abandoned the boom mic after one twitch too many and headed for the pool to read my book, from where I can no longer get into trouble.

In the evening it was momentarily cool enough for Brian to finally go for a run, where he was followed by a hungry swarm of mosquitoes and a sinister flock of angry black birds who kept diving and swooping at his retreating figure in a quite menacing way. I reckon they were just after a part in his next film.