The Argentinians have the art of relaxation down to a mate. Sometimes, this can take the form of taking a chair and sitting on it, be it on a rock ledge overlooking the Atlantic, out the front of a private barista, on a patch of grass, or even in a car park. The chairs ocupant, if male, invariably cradles his proud paunch framed by skin long deflated and cured by the assult of the sun. The women claim their chair beside him, prone, and undaunted by the sharpness of the sun, basking, barely clad in a leopard print bikini with bottom jaunting shamlessly from the lycra g-string. Once the couple has marked their territorial claim with a beach sombrella, (to shade they esky), there they will remain until dusk, sipping in turn from their refilled herbal
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