Bariloche is the best known town in the Argentine Lake District and was popular with Nazis who fled Germany after WW11. It is now like a displaced alpine town full of tourists and chocolate shops. The overnight stay is memorable for a cabaret in the hotel restaurant where we are spared having to sing into the mike along with the singer as we are non native speakers. There are times when it's best not to appear to speak Spanish.

Foreign bathrooms and plumbing as usual provide some entertainment. As in many countries in older properties toilet paper goes in a basket rather than the loo. My career average for remembering to do this even as I read the notice remains at a steady 50 percent. Many loo doors don't lock. The standard Argentinian latch on those that do has a spring loaded bolt which has to be pulled out before the latch will slide in or out. I don't like to admit how long it took me to suss this out.

Martin has discovered something missing from his extensive emergency kit, a universal rubber bath/sink plug. Many baths and sinks lack a plug so he has not been able to soak his lingering backache. Most of our bathrooms however small have a bidet, not something I usually use but out of curiosity I investigate one to see if it might be used for washing clothes, in retrospect a ridiculous idea on so many levels. There are 3 taps, hot,cold and one to regulate water flow which, when left in full flow position by a previous user, projects a powerful jet of water straight up from the base of the bowl sufficient to drench the newly blow-dried hair of the investigator.

Identifying male or female loos is usually easy, with universal icons or the standard Spanish for men and women. One exception is a cutesy alpine style eatery bedecked with leprechauns and gnomes. One door bears the Spanish for imps or goblins, the other for fairies. I hesitate momentarily and decide that on this occasion I am probably a fairy.