We arrived, the three parties, within an hour of one another and were met by old friends of Vince, Mac and Phyllis at the gate and walked to our minibus, where we met River, Diana, Stan and Chris. Vince and Chris knew all present before, however this was the first time most of us had met. The minibus was to take us to our hotel about half an hour away in central Buenos Aires. We parted from Mac and Phyllis who we would meet later on the journey.

Our arrival had not been without incident, passage through customs had been interrupted by the customs officers in charge of the x-ray machines through which our bags passed to leave the building. What did Senor have in his circa 1938 suitcase, tied with string that looked like a metal plate with four 2 ½” holes through it and a large ‘C’ shaped metal object? Was he possible a Wiltshire seperatist, from Warminster, what a sinister name after all! Once unwrapped the demenour became very stern, was Senor aware that importing motor parts in his personal luggage was an offence and illegal? The senior customs official was called and to pronounce on the possibilities of the gringos being parts smugglers for the Paris Dacar Rally. Asked the value of the parts, it was suggested that this might be as much as 2/6d and we were allowed to continue, but only after a stern warning about not doing it again. The copper head gasket for an Alvis Speed 20 and the Amilacar ‘C’ spanner were later delivered to their Argentinian owners with many thanks.

After signing in and a quick wash and brush-up we walked across town to the shipping company offices, where we were met by EduardoVreugdenhill of NorteMar.

We all listened to the explanation of fees and monies required to release the cars from the docks and the method by which this would, we were assured, be tomorrow but certainly by the day after. Later seven different versions of this were discussed as we realised that it had not made sense to anyone of us. Seven? Because Chris’s original co-driver had to drop out and his replacement had been injured in a skiing accident a few days before departure. Now all the bills would have to be divided by an odd number and it was certain to make life difficult for the numerically challenged in the party.

We had been invited to call on Axel and his wife Libby for tea and hastening back to the hotel we were soon racing through the Buenos Aires rush hour streets in two cabs towards their apartment. We arrived on the 12th floor to views of the River Plate and our charming hosts served tea and sandwiches, which the party were, at first, rather restrained in tucking into. It was, however, evident that nearly a day of travelling and insufficient sleep for most was a combination destined to make small work of the delicacies on offer.

Both hosts had separate appointments to go to and we blithely stayed on, consuming all that was put in front of us. Sandwiches, croissant, cake, tea, water, more sandwiches brought up by Libby, beer, further local speciality cakes (a great favourite with Stan) and finally G&T’s which sated the beast and allowed our weary hosts to throw us out at past 10pm.

We walked home stopping only briefly for a beer near the hotel, to round out the day. Soon the sonorous sound of happy, sleeping crews accompanied the locals on their way to numerous tango bars, which abound in the district.

We met for breakfast and dispatched the four drivers and River, who was to put his Spanish linguistic skills to work. They were to meet the Shipping Agent and start the task of trying to extract the cars from the docks. The day was long, hot and tedious for the workers, and the result? Manana! Or certainly the day after!

Johny and I made inroads into the onerous list of tasks assigned to us, but first we had coffee and watched the world go by on Florida Street, sauntered along to get new chips for our mobiles and took a look at the central cathedral, Eva’s balcony and sampled a marina dockside lunch on the terrace. It was hell but someone had to do it.

We all met back at the hotel and punished Chris’s bottle of gin, before walking several blocks to a wonderfully atmospheric pizza restaurant, where we enjoyed great food and beer and regained out humour. Temperatures at 10.30pm were showing 29.5 deg and the aircon in the hotel room was welcome.

Tomorrow we begin the process again, it is hope with more success. Will Vince’s nerves stand the strain, will Chris plant one on the dockyard official, will Stan crack under the strain. Watch this space!