Merry Christmas to all of you, my blog groupies.
I am celebrating in the traditional manner of jumping out of a plane.
I think it is a suitable action.
Rock and Roll
Paddy
Thursday, December 21, 2006
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Where the air is fine...
Buenos Aires. Just like Europe, but warmer in December.
Seriously. Romantic sidewalk cafes, cobbled streets, impressive monuments, stylish people that make your attempt to pretty yourself up futile - no matter what you do you still seem like an extra from Fraggle Rock.
I have not actually managed to do any touristing in my time here. Saw a few movies. Went out for a few drinks here and there. Went out dancing and prancing - which is a big thing, if there ever was a city that lives only by night, this is it. But tomorrow I promise I will start with the tourist gear. But just because you asked nicely.
Oh and my camera is in the panel beaters as of yesterday. Yay!
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Seriously. Romantic sidewalk cafes, cobbled streets, impressive monuments, stylish people that make your attempt to pretty yourself up futile - no matter what you do you still seem like an extra from Fraggle Rock.
I have not actually managed to do any touristing in my time here. Saw a few movies. Went out for a few drinks here and there. Went out dancing and prancing - which is a big thing, if there ever was a city that lives only by night, this is it. But tomorrow I promise I will start with the tourist gear. But just because you asked nicely.
Oh and my camera is in the panel beaters as of yesterday. Yay!
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Bussy goodness.
Well, as you may be aware, I need to essentially traverse half of this continent in order to make it to Santa Cruz in Bolivia to catch my ride to the Northern half of the globe. So at some stage I going to have to end my crusade south (I mean crusade in a sense totally unrelated from anything war-ry or holy. Just so you know) and turn around.
Well, sad as it may seem, that day has come (´cause I know you have all been following my progress with vivid interest - sighing and screaming at the appropriate moments - wishing there were commercials so you could take bathroom breaks without missing any of the action). Tomorrow I get on a bus to blaze a trail towards Buenos Aires. Which sounds fine, except when you consider that this will take 2 and a half days. Now, I have become accustomed to such wince-inducing travel action in the last 10 months, this is still somewhat of a record.
Accordingly I have stopped in the personality deficient town of Rio Gallegos to go in search of a few good books, a blankie, and maybe even a few good Cosmos or Cleos. Because nothing makes time fly quite like a woman´s magazine directed at mid to late teens. Who doesn´t want to know 15 ways to sizzle in the sack? Not me!
The glacier by the way was very impressive and very icy. A 60 metre wall of solid rising up in front of you really does provoke feelings of awe and wonder. It would have made for quite a few good photos as well, but you already know the situation in that department.
Counting down to the end of South American time now. But Mexico still to come. Doing a bit of a road trip thing with the indubitably lovely Alison Packam. Then Canada to settle down and ...work... again. This is a concept which due to popular opinion, I still vaguely understand.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Well, sad as it may seem, that day has come (´cause I know you have all been following my progress with vivid interest - sighing and screaming at the appropriate moments - wishing there were commercials so you could take bathroom breaks without missing any of the action). Tomorrow I get on a bus to blaze a trail towards Buenos Aires. Which sounds fine, except when you consider that this will take 2 and a half days. Now, I have become accustomed to such wince-inducing travel action in the last 10 months, this is still somewhat of a record.
Accordingly I have stopped in the personality deficient town of Rio Gallegos to go in search of a few good books, a blankie, and maybe even a few good Cosmos or Cleos. Because nothing makes time fly quite like a woman´s magazine directed at mid to late teens. Who doesn´t want to know 15 ways to sizzle in the sack? Not me!
The glacier by the way was very impressive and very icy. A 60 metre wall of solid rising up in front of you really does provoke feelings of awe and wonder. It would have made for quite a few good photos as well, but you already know the situation in that department.
Counting down to the end of South American time now. But Mexico still to come. Doing a bit of a road trip thing with the indubitably lovely Alison Packam. Then Canada to settle down and ...work... again. This is a concept which due to popular opinion, I still vaguely understand.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Friday, December 08, 2006
Return to service.
Ok. I admit it. I have been slack. But as my cousin Simon has observed in his usual adroite style - which, praise be, is for the first time not focused on my personal grooming habits- spinning tales of wit and wonder is less fun when you can´t break up the text with the odd image or two. It is all about rhythm, 1 text entry, 2 photos, 1 text entry, 3 photos. Like that. (Which is odd really, as in normal circumstances I have about as much rhythm as Kevin Rudd on acid) .
But the gauntlet has been thrown and I must have my satisfaction. For I am never one to walk away from a challenge, unless it one involving a chicken, 3 tubes of strawberry yoghurt and the entire front line of the Brisbane Broncos. So, my beloved readers, as of this moment, regular transmission has returned.
I am now in Argentina. I passed thrown a very pretty town called Bariloche which was a bizarre mixture of Switzerland and Isreal. Switzerland in that it was lakes and mountains, chocolates and cheeses, beagles (I kid you not) and buxom lasses with blonde pigtails. Israel, in that 80% of the people (everyone, not just the travellers) were Israelis. Now, they were lovely, it is just that I never considered that Hebrew would be the lingua franca anywhere outside of Israel. Somewhat surprising.
In any case, I found it all a bit touristy and decided to move on. Which brings me to Puerto Madryn, which, to replace the Israels, apparently has a very large Welsh population. What is going on here? I am feeling very twilight zone and fully expect to find a large Tongan community in my next destination. Puerto Madryn is very much more my style. A lazy port town with a national park near by with all manners of wonders. Penguins, whales, sea lions, sea elephants (which are among the ugliest creatures ever, ranking slightly behind hairless cats). I feel very at one with the natural world.
Tomorrow I move down south deeper into Patagonia, to see the largest glacier in the world. I would have gone today, but unbeknownst to me until this morning, today is the day of some saint or other and as such, I could not pick up my laundry. And one of the rules I try to live by is that you should always greet a unfamiliar place in a fresh set of underwear.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
But the gauntlet has been thrown and I must have my satisfaction. For I am never one to walk away from a challenge, unless it one involving a chicken, 3 tubes of strawberry yoghurt and the entire front line of the Brisbane Broncos. So, my beloved readers, as of this moment, regular transmission has returned.
I am now in Argentina. I passed thrown a very pretty town called Bariloche which was a bizarre mixture of Switzerland and Isreal. Switzerland in that it was lakes and mountains, chocolates and cheeses, beagles (I kid you not) and buxom lasses with blonde pigtails. Israel, in that 80% of the people (everyone, not just the travellers) were Israelis. Now, they were lovely, it is just that I never considered that Hebrew would be the lingua franca anywhere outside of Israel. Somewhat surprising.
In any case, I found it all a bit touristy and decided to move on. Which brings me to Puerto Madryn, which, to replace the Israels, apparently has a very large Welsh population. What is going on here? I am feeling very twilight zone and fully expect to find a large Tongan community in my next destination. Puerto Madryn is very much more my style. A lazy port town with a national park near by with all manners of wonders. Penguins, whales, sea lions, sea elephants (which are among the ugliest creatures ever, ranking slightly behind hairless cats). I feel very at one with the natural world.
Tomorrow I move down south deeper into Patagonia, to see the largest glacier in the world. I would have gone today, but unbeknownst to me until this morning, today is the day of some saint or other and as such, I could not pick up my laundry. And one of the rules I try to live by is that you should always greet a unfamiliar place in a fresh set of underwear.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Friday, December 01, 2006
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Island of the Damned... or should that be dumb - Chiloe.
Well, I am on the road ahead, now in the south of Chile, which I have previously visited briefly during my theatre antics. But that was not enough for me, so I am here again, rollacking around the quite lovely island of Chiloe.
And it is quite lovely. Reminds me a lot of the west coast of Ireland, except with less Irish people, and a population with the inability to speak at more than 2 words every 45 seconds. In fact, on first arriving on the Punt over here, I was a bit disallusioned with the whole place. (Although the concept of a punt can still manage to excite me. What is it with boys and unconventional forms of transport,?I could be travelling to Hell itself, but as long as have to take a tricycle to get there, I´m in.) It seemed that there was just not much doing, very basic facilities and everything out of season. It didn´t help that the people around town seemed like they would lose a battle of wits with a stuffed iguana. I was a bit grumpy with it all, really. My sister thinks it is because it is time to go back to work, but surely things are not that drastic!
It turns out that it was just the town that was crap. An bit of advice from someone in the know. Don´t go to Ancud. It is like Ulladulla, but without the Land of Indoor Fun.
I am now in Castro, which despite (or maybe because of) being named after a ailing communist dictator, is very nice. Nice market, lovely port, lovely people and a national park near by which has pengers! (Penguins.... d´uh!). All this makes for a much happier Paddy. Which I am sure you are all relieved to know.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
And it is quite lovely. Reminds me a lot of the west coast of Ireland, except with less Irish people, and a population with the inability to speak at more than 2 words every 45 seconds. In fact, on first arriving on the Punt over here, I was a bit disallusioned with the whole place. (Although the concept of a punt can still manage to excite me. What is it with boys and unconventional forms of transport,?I could be travelling to Hell itself, but as long as have to take a tricycle to get there, I´m in.) It seemed that there was just not much doing, very basic facilities and everything out of season. It didn´t help that the people around town seemed like they would lose a battle of wits with a stuffed iguana. I was a bit grumpy with it all, really. My sister thinks it is because it is time to go back to work, but surely things are not that drastic!
It turns out that it was just the town that was crap. An bit of advice from someone in the know. Don´t go to Ancud. It is like Ulladulla, but without the Land of Indoor Fun.
I am now in Castro, which despite (or maybe because of) being named after a ailing communist dictator, is very nice. Nice market, lovely port, lovely people and a national park near by which has pengers! (Penguins.... d´uh!). All this makes for a much happier Paddy. Which I am sure you are all relieved to know.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Suerte.
There are two types of people in the world. There are clueless and misguided types known as Shakira virgins and then... well, then there are people like me.
Yes, my boyhood dream of seeing the Diva in person has, finally, come to pass. (Please note that as it is a proven fact that men mature more slowly than women, I am extending my boyhood to the age of 23. For those of you who knew me last year, I don´t think that this is too much of a stretch)
It was a night to remember. It had everything: belly dancing, fireworks, incredible costuming and a stadium full of screaming devotees. I was all decked out in my bandana, had bought a T shirt or two and even some badges. Perhaps sadly, I let reason prevail, and did not buy a Shakira themed pillow. Just think of all those ´Guess who I am sleeping with?´quips I could have made. I made that sacrifice for you people! For you!!!!
All the hits were played. Not only did we have ´Whenever, Whereever´and ´Hips don´t lie´ but also ´Ojos asi´, ´Si te vas´, ´Ciega Sorda Muda´and (a personal fave) ´Buscando un poco de amor´. By the end of the evening, my throat was more than a bit sore, and poor Lorena was more than embarressed enough for the both of us - given my seeming unwillingness to limit my conduct.
But yes, I a pretty sure that it is an event that will not come to repeat itself within this life-time. And if it was not quite the religious experience that I have made it out to be- it was more than a very big ball of fun - somewhat akin to a gobstopper with a latin feel. And I will continue to be the huge Shakira fan that you all know and love. Well that you all know, at least. Because after all, Shakira really does...
Rock and Roll
Paddy
Yes, my boyhood dream of seeing the Diva in person has, finally, come to pass. (Please note that as it is a proven fact that men mature more slowly than women, I am extending my boyhood to the age of 23. For those of you who knew me last year, I don´t think that this is too much of a stretch)
It was a night to remember. It had everything: belly dancing, fireworks, incredible costuming and a stadium full of screaming devotees. I was all decked out in my bandana, had bought a T shirt or two and even some badges. Perhaps sadly, I let reason prevail, and did not buy a Shakira themed pillow. Just think of all those ´Guess who I am sleeping with?´quips I could have made. I made that sacrifice for you people! For you!!!!
All the hits were played. Not only did we have ´Whenever, Whereever´and ´Hips don´t lie´ but also ´Ojos asi´, ´Si te vas´, ´Ciega Sorda Muda´and (a personal fave) ´Buscando un poco de amor´. By the end of the evening, my throat was more than a bit sore, and poor Lorena was more than embarressed enough for the both of us - given my seeming unwillingness to limit my conduct.
But yes, I a pretty sure that it is an event that will not come to repeat itself within this life-time. And if it was not quite the religious experience that I have made it out to be- it was more than a very big ball of fun - somewhat akin to a gobstopper with a latin feel. And I will continue to be the huge Shakira fan that you all know and love. Well that you all know, at least. Because after all, Shakira really does...
Rock and Roll
Paddy
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Monday, November 20, 2006
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Counting down...
Well as I may have mentioned in my previous entry I am now back in Santiago. Site of my forthcoming date with destiny in the form of that dimuniutive Columbian/French/Lebanese/Pakastini-for-all-I-know nymphette Shakira. And I am ready.
I am currently in the midst of creating my ´Shakira, I want to have your babies´banner and have already run out of glitter. But yes, that will that particular event of the century will happen next Wednesday evening.
Aside from that, it feels pretty good to be back in Santiago. I like the city, despite its flaws, and there are a lot of good people around who I am lucky enough to call friend. I am staying with the lovely Sergio and shared a wonderful family birthday party with the equally lovely Lorena. It was good to be in a family environment again, with a few kids running around the place and a very tasty lasagne and potato pie.
Might visit a few musuems in the next few days, and I am off to the theatre tonight. But aside from that, I am very much enjoying wandering round a city that almost feels like home.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
I am currently in the midst of creating my ´Shakira, I want to have your babies´banner and have already run out of glitter. But yes, that will that particular event of the century will happen next Wednesday evening.
Aside from that, it feels pretty good to be back in Santiago. I like the city, despite its flaws, and there are a lot of good people around who I am lucky enough to call friend. I am staying with the lovely Sergio and shared a wonderful family birthday party with the equally lovely Lorena. It was good to be in a family environment again, with a few kids running around the place and a very tasty lasagne and potato pie.
Might visit a few musuems in the next few days, and I am off to the theatre tonight. But aside from that, I am very much enjoying wandering round a city that almost feels like home.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Full Circle.
Well, it has been a little while since my last entry, and I have moved a fair way, physically, mentally and of course spiritually. As I write this missive, it is midnight Saturday and I am in the very leafy Argentine border town of Mendonza.
Hold on, I hear you all say, Paddy, did you say Saturday night? Why are you not out on the town, touring the local hotspots, wowing the local women and generally being the well dressed stud that we all know you to be?
Well, I would like to think of some excuse, but the truth is I am just tired. Came down on a bus today, from the equally lovely town of Salta in the north of Argentina. This place is lovely but should be famous for nothing other than its empanadas! Oh dear god, these things are incredible, it is like there is a party in your mouth and the Queen has just slapped Elvis with a smoked trout, while the Beatles are facing off with the the editorial team from Press Gang in a match of Curling. Suffice to say, the empanananananadas are truly fantastic, but I think the best thing is that they know how to do cheese here. Bolivia and Peru were lovely but their dairy products on the whole, were tasteless, soft and came in tins.
The meat is equally as incredible, and it does not seem to be uncommon here to order a whole cow delivered to your table. It really is quite juicy, tender and all round tasty. Truth is the food is the thing that has impressed me most about Argentina. Not that Peru and Bolivia were bad, just that, they were not... great Here in Argentina it is just a different world of quality and quantity. I love it, it makes me happy, it gives me faith in... stuff. Argentina feels just like Europe except that everything is pleasently cheap. (I have the economic crisis of the late 90's to thank for that, so maybe I should be a bit more sensitive)
But yes, I have, at some time in this blog entry, attempt to make the title relevant to the babble within it. You see, the thing is, tomorrow, I go back to Santiago Chile, where this journey began. And I must say that I am quite looking forward to it. Aside from the obvious excitement of the Shakira concert, it will be nice to catch up with old friends. I also get to attend a birthday party in the next few days which is always fun.
It does mean however, that the Sth American stage of this epic journey is fast drawing to its close. While I am sure that Mexico and Canada will be equally exciting, it does fill me with asense of sadness. But hey, there is still just on two months to enjoy the spacious surrounds of this, the other great Southern Continent. So stayed tuned, as I keep on peddling.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Hold on, I hear you all say, Paddy, did you say Saturday night? Why are you not out on the town, touring the local hotspots, wowing the local women and generally being the well dressed stud that we all know you to be?
Well, I would like to think of some excuse, but the truth is I am just tired. Came down on a bus today, from the equally lovely town of Salta in the north of Argentina. This place is lovely but should be famous for nothing other than its empanadas! Oh dear god, these things are incredible, it is like there is a party in your mouth and the Queen has just slapped Elvis with a smoked trout, while the Beatles are facing off with the the editorial team from Press Gang in a match of Curling. Suffice to say, the empanananananadas are truly fantastic, but I think the best thing is that they know how to do cheese here. Bolivia and Peru were lovely but their dairy products on the whole, were tasteless, soft and came in tins.
The meat is equally as incredible, and it does not seem to be uncommon here to order a whole cow delivered to your table. It really is quite juicy, tender and all round tasty. Truth is the food is the thing that has impressed me most about Argentina. Not that Peru and Bolivia were bad, just that, they were not... great Here in Argentina it is just a different world of quality and quantity. I love it, it makes me happy, it gives me faith in... stuff. Argentina feels just like Europe except that everything is pleasently cheap. (I have the economic crisis of the late 90's to thank for that, so maybe I should be a bit more sensitive)
But yes, I have, at some time in this blog entry, attempt to make the title relevant to the babble within it. You see, the thing is, tomorrow, I go back to Santiago Chile, where this journey began. And I must say that I am quite looking forward to it. Aside from the obvious excitement of the Shakira concert, it will be nice to catch up with old friends. I also get to attend a birthday party in the next few days which is always fun.
It does mean however, that the Sth American stage of this epic journey is fast drawing to its close. While I am sure that Mexico and Canada will be equally exciting, it does fill me with asense of sadness. But hey, there is still just on two months to enjoy the spacious surrounds of this, the other great Southern Continent. So stayed tuned, as I keep on peddling.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Saturday, November 04, 2006
I need some SUSTENANCE
Good Morning to one and all.
Now that some of us are starting to enter the oh so lovely world of corporate work, I feel that there is something that I should draw your attention to. Because you know, that while law/accounting/marketing/public relations can be a riot, sometimes the best part of day is LUNCH.
With this in mind I would like to plug a great idea that my eldest sister Annie has turned into reality. It is called SUSTENANCE. Basically it is a service that allows you to have your lunch costs packaged into your salary. Using an exemption in the FRINGE BENEFIT TAX rules - your employer can supply Salary sacrificed Delivered Lunches at a very substantial saving. And the food is really good too! Trust me, I have had many an opportunity to test the wares in the development process, and everything is very tasty.
So have a look at the following sites for more information.
Sustenance Delivered
Review of Sustenance by CSI Renumeration (Look at pg 2 of the Spring Newsletter 2006.
And bug your employer to get SUSTENANCE into your workplace.
Rock and Roll
Paddy
Now that some of us are starting to enter the oh so lovely world of corporate work, I feel that there is something that I should draw your attention to. Because you know, that while law/accounting/marketing/public relations can be a riot, sometimes the best part of day is LUNCH.
With this in mind I would like to plug a great idea that my eldest sister Annie has turned into reality. It is called SUSTENANCE. Basically it is a service that allows you to have your lunch costs packaged into your salary. Using an exemption in the FRINGE BENEFIT TAX rules - your employer can supply Salary sacrificed Delivered Lunches at a very substantial saving. And the food is really good too! Trust me, I have had many an opportunity to test the wares in the development process, and everything is very tasty.
So have a look at the following sites for more information.
Sustenance Delivered
Review of Sustenance by CSI Renumeration (Look at pg 2 of the Spring Newsletter 2006.
And bug your employer to get SUSTENANCE into your workplace.
Rock and Roll
Paddy
Thursday, November 02, 2006
I live for my Art...
Well, not really... but hey it sounds impressive. Doesn't it? C'mon help me out here people. (Actually, closer to the truth would be I live for randomly spaced intakes of sugar but that doesn't really fill me with happiness and/or joy)
Actually, in spite of a supersized bucket ó gunk full of No-talent, my abilities in the world of painting are actually, albeit veeeeeery slowly, improving. (Do you like the spanish flavour on that o?) I am still however, not showing anything that I may or may not have produced to any of you anytime soon.
This is despite the fact that my professer and bestest buddy of the moment neglected to turn up today. BASTARD!!!! Well, no not really, as it is a bit of a bit festival roundabouts these parts today... the other side of Halloween, where they all go and have massive parties in front of the graves of dead relatives. Seems a bit more family orientated than our less ancestrally focused selves. Although a bit morbid. They even bring old Aunt Agatha´s favourite dish, which knowing some of my relatives could be anything from a sushi boat to lambs brains.
Which now that I think of it sort of fits in with the Halloween link... BRAIIIIIIIINS! BRAIIIIIIIINS!
Rock and Roll
Paddy
Actually, in spite of a supersized bucket ó gunk full of No-talent, my abilities in the world of painting are actually, albeit veeeeeery slowly, improving. (Do you like the spanish flavour on that o?) I am still however, not showing anything that I may or may not have produced to any of you anytime soon.
This is despite the fact that my professer and bestest buddy of the moment neglected to turn up today. BASTARD!!!! Well, no not really, as it is a bit of a bit festival roundabouts these parts today... the other side of Halloween, where they all go and have massive parties in front of the graves of dead relatives. Seems a bit more family orientated than our less ancestrally focused selves. Although a bit morbid. They even bring old Aunt Agatha´s favourite dish, which knowing some of my relatives could be anything from a sushi boat to lambs brains.
Which now that I think of it sort of fits in with the Halloween link... BRAIIIIIIIINS! BRAIIIIIIIINS!
Rock and Roll
Paddy
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Bananas lacking Pyjamas.
I continue to be in Sucre. It is a lovely town. Young, studenty with really really good salteñas.
And, as is necessary to stop me developing deeper pyschosis than I already have, I have developed a little bit of a routine to fill my days in this most European of Bolivia´s towns. And keeping with the European theme, I have decided to go all renaisance on your chops.
My mornings are spent with my new Maestro, Jorge - painting all sorts of wonderous amazing things - Bananas, Apples, Jorge´s mother - that sort of thing. This generally takes three hours and while I have come close to producing something that could be said to be vaguely reminiscent of a overripe banana on a foggy day, sadly Jorge´s mother continues to bear a striking resemblance to a midget canary than the handsome lady that she actually is.
After that usually quite frustrating but educative interval, Jorge and I stroll down to the local market, talking of things as wide and varied as Bolivia´s political problems, Latin American countries with the most developed art scenes and whether or not Michael Jackson really would do such a thing to young boys. This always ocurs over a freshly squeezed juice or two- although this morning I was convinced to imbibe a nauseating mix of beer and egg white. Please, don´t pry further.
Tomorrow we are going on an art excursion, leaving the surrounds of Sucre to find inspiration in the mottley browns and greens of the Bolivan countryside. I feel like I am in an Oscar Wilde play. Regardless of the colour the scenery actually is, I of course will find a way to use too much yellow.
Maybe I should just stick to fruit.
Rock and Roll
Paddy.
And, as is necessary to stop me developing deeper pyschosis than I already have, I have developed a little bit of a routine to fill my days in this most European of Bolivia´s towns. And keeping with the European theme, I have decided to go all renaisance on your chops.
My mornings are spent with my new Maestro, Jorge - painting all sorts of wonderous amazing things - Bananas, Apples, Jorge´s mother - that sort of thing. This generally takes three hours and while I have come close to producing something that could be said to be vaguely reminiscent of a overripe banana on a foggy day, sadly Jorge´s mother continues to bear a striking resemblance to a midget canary than the handsome lady that she actually is.
After that usually quite frustrating but educative interval, Jorge and I stroll down to the local market, talking of things as wide and varied as Bolivia´s political problems, Latin American countries with the most developed art scenes and whether or not Michael Jackson really would do such a thing to young boys. This always ocurs over a freshly squeezed juice or two- although this morning I was convinced to imbibe a nauseating mix of beer and egg white. Please, don´t pry further.
Tomorrow we are going on an art excursion, leaving the surrounds of Sucre to find inspiration in the mottley browns and greens of the Bolivan countryside. I feel like I am in an Oscar Wilde play. Regardless of the colour the scenery actually is, I of course will find a way to use too much yellow.
Maybe I should just stick to fruit.
Rock and Roll
Paddy.
Friday, October 27, 2006
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Monday, October 23, 2006
Some thoughts...
1. I WANT MY HAIR BACK. NOW!!! G*D DAMN IT!
2. Being mugged is an unpleasant experience. A more pleasant experience is wrenching your bag back and running like buggery. I highly recommend it.
3. Tomorrow, I start a painting course. Yes, if possible, I am set to become even more of a yogurt eating - Jane Austin apreciating - pansy man.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
2. Being mugged is an unpleasant experience. A more pleasant experience is wrenching your bag back and running like buggery. I highly recommend it.
3. Tomorrow, I start a painting course. Yes, if possible, I am set to become even more of a yogurt eating - Jane Austin apreciating - pansy man.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Death and Dalliance
Hello my lovelies.
Entering Bolivia has taught me how important it is to have well labelled streets in all parts of the world. Indeed, the residents of the cities themselves appear to have very little idea about their home address let alone a broader knowledge of the geography of their cities.
But this has lead to nothing more serious than a sore back, after lugging my damn backpack around for a 45 minutes at 5.00 in the morning trying desperately to get a handle on where the hell I was. And y´know, this kind of challenge can be fun.
What was less fun was the serious car accident that I was witness to on my journey between Oruro and Uyuni. The entire human contents of my bus spilled out on to the highway, gawking and pointing for all they were worth. (A multitude, I must admit of which I was part) Emergency services were called and during the wait, someone (who was not medically trained to my knowledge) decided that it was imperative to lay out the dead beside the cars in wait of an ambulance. I had two major criticisms to this plan, but was largely overruled. My thoughts were A) what if they are not completely dead? What if they are only almost dead? (Sorry, bad taste I know, but it was a reference which I could not resist) Is it necessarily a good idea to be moving them without knowing exactly what we are doing? and B)if they are dead, what do they care if they are nicely geometrically aligned or not?
Suffice to say it was a fairly gruesome early morning. One that I do not care to repeat any time soon. Actually screw anytime soon, how about never.
Off to the Uyuni salt flats tomorrow, which has been a constant in the tales of travelling wonderfulness coming from other travellers along the way. I shall tell you how I go on my return.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Entering Bolivia has taught me how important it is to have well labelled streets in all parts of the world. Indeed, the residents of the cities themselves appear to have very little idea about their home address let alone a broader knowledge of the geography of their cities.
But this has lead to nothing more serious than a sore back, after lugging my damn backpack around for a 45 minutes at 5.00 in the morning trying desperately to get a handle on where the hell I was. And y´know, this kind of challenge can be fun.
What was less fun was the serious car accident that I was witness to on my journey between Oruro and Uyuni. The entire human contents of my bus spilled out on to the highway, gawking and pointing for all they were worth. (A multitude, I must admit of which I was part) Emergency services were called and during the wait, someone (who was not medically trained to my knowledge) decided that it was imperative to lay out the dead beside the cars in wait of an ambulance. I had two major criticisms to this plan, but was largely overruled. My thoughts were A) what if they are not completely dead? What if they are only almost dead? (Sorry, bad taste I know, but it was a reference which I could not resist) Is it necessarily a good idea to be moving them without knowing exactly what we are doing? and B)if they are dead, what do they care if they are nicely geometrically aligned or not?
Suffice to say it was a fairly gruesome early morning. One that I do not care to repeat any time soon. Actually screw anytime soon, how about never.
Off to the Uyuni salt flats tomorrow, which has been a constant in the tales of travelling wonderfulness coming from other travellers along the way. I shall tell you how I go on my return.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Monday, October 16, 2006
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Friday, October 13, 2006
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Lucky that my breasts are small and humble...
Well, small maybe.. humble- I think not. My left nipple in particular is very arrogant.
I have news. Of import. Of depth. North Korea may be destabilising the geopolitical climate through decisive action that is yet to be confirmed as anything other than a very bad case of wind... but this... this is BIG!
I am going to see Shakira! Live. In person. With her truthful hips and timid breasts.
You have no idea how excited I am. Really. Noooo idea.
In other news, I say farewell to Peru this week. Five months it has taken me to traverse this country to my satisfaction. And I still it saddens me to leave. But Bolivia beckons.
As does that Latin Goddess... who I will marry.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
I have news. Of import. Of depth. North Korea may be destabilising the geopolitical climate through decisive action that is yet to be confirmed as anything other than a very bad case of wind... but this... this is BIG!
I am going to see Shakira! Live. In person. With her truthful hips and timid breasts.
You have no idea how excited I am. Really. Noooo idea.
In other news, I say farewell to Peru this week. Five months it has taken me to traverse this country to my satisfaction. And I still it saddens me to leave. But Bolivia beckons.
As does that Latin Goddess... who I will marry.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!
Well, wild scary animals, at any rate.
Would you believe that in my 6 months of blog entries, this is the first one that I have made in a semi drunken state? Looking at some of the spelling efforts in some of the previous installments, this fact is more than a little bit demoralising.
So, the jungle and that. It was nice. Lots of green, lot of animals that I have never seen before and ahh, lots of water. But I must say that I have never been bitten, scratched or generally molested by such a large number of anthropods in such a limited amount of time at any other point before in my life. I would gladly take the tender stylings of a Sydney cockroach infestation over this myriad of blighters, anyday of the week.
The highlight was of course being stung by a scorpian. Dear God, ow, hurties, much pain and all that. The little bugger- who is of course now dead, due to my somewhat juvenile reprisal attack (involving a pair of tweezers, a gumboot and an excessive amount of force) - was only about 2 centimetres from head to tail, but fuah! - it hurt... alot! Now, some of you are going to suggest that I am a whuz... and you would be right- but I challenge you to place some hot coals in your underpants and see how you feel.
My guide, Wilson, was a lovely man, who showed my the finer points of piranha fishing and invited me to try any number of small wriggly insects. Point of advice- insects are almost always tastier cooked than when raw.
But then I am sure that you knew that.
Rock and Roll
Paddy.
Would you believe that in my 6 months of blog entries, this is the first one that I have made in a semi drunken state? Looking at some of the spelling efforts in some of the previous installments, this fact is more than a little bit demoralising.
So, the jungle and that. It was nice. Lots of green, lot of animals that I have never seen before and ahh, lots of water. But I must say that I have never been bitten, scratched or generally molested by such a large number of anthropods in such a limited amount of time at any other point before in my life. I would gladly take the tender stylings of a Sydney cockroach infestation over this myriad of blighters, anyday of the week.
The highlight was of course being stung by a scorpian. Dear God, ow, hurties, much pain and all that. The little bugger- who is of course now dead, due to my somewhat juvenile reprisal attack (involving a pair of tweezers, a gumboot and an excessive amount of force) - was only about 2 centimetres from head to tail, but fuah! - it hurt... alot! Now, some of you are going to suggest that I am a whuz... and you would be right- but I challenge you to place some hot coals in your underpants and see how you feel.
My guide, Wilson, was a lovely man, who showed my the finer points of piranha fishing and invited me to try any number of small wriggly insects. Point of advice- insects are almost always tastier cooked than when raw.
But then I am sure that you knew that.
Rock and Roll
Paddy.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Sunday, September 24, 2006
River King
5 days later I have made it to Iquitos.
The boat was a worthwhile experience, but you know, I have to say that I think I will be flying back to Lima.
Henry V, as my vessel was named served faithfully and truly - aside from breaking down for a whole day and getting stuck on a sandbank for another, the voyage was relatively trouble free. I would have much preferred her to be named Henry VI - so I could have made all sorts of bad jokes about ´Keeping your HEAD above water´and ´Hey, how about that divorce-thing´ but you can´t have everything.
I felt very Huck Finn-ish as we made our way down the river. Visting little communities and sitting on the bow, watching the banks wax and wane. I do realise that Huck was on the Missisipi and that I was lacking an African American slave, but as always I strive to be politically correct.
Oh and the hardest thing about sleeping in a hammock is finding a place to put your head. And not putting your foot in the face of the person next to you while disembarking from aforementioned hammock.
But no matter how I got here, I have made it to the banks of the Amazon. Which looks very river-like. Iquitos is a fairly funky town. Oh and I going on a four day jungle adventure as of Tuesday... which will be exciting. Yay for me!
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
The boat was a worthwhile experience, but you know, I have to say that I think I will be flying back to Lima.
Henry V, as my vessel was named served faithfully and truly - aside from breaking down for a whole day and getting stuck on a sandbank for another, the voyage was relatively trouble free. I would have much preferred her to be named Henry VI - so I could have made all sorts of bad jokes about ´Keeping your HEAD above water´and ´Hey, how about that divorce-thing´ but you can´t have everything.
I felt very Huck Finn-ish as we made our way down the river. Visting little communities and sitting on the bow, watching the banks wax and wane. I do realise that Huck was on the Missisipi and that I was lacking an African American slave, but as always I strive to be politically correct.
Oh and the hardest thing about sleeping in a hammock is finding a place to put your head. And not putting your foot in the face of the person next to you while disembarking from aforementioned hammock.
But no matter how I got here, I have made it to the banks of the Amazon. Which looks very river-like. Iquitos is a fairly funky town. Oh and I going on a four day jungle adventure as of Tuesday... which will be exciting. Yay for me!
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Saturday, September 16, 2006
Hot August to early September Nights.
As I have been told - oh so many times... get a new interesting tidbit to share with foreigners, people! - in the last few months, Peru has 3 major constituant regions. La Costa (the coast), La Sierra (the mountains) and La Selva (the Jungle). And if you want to know Peru, really really know Peru, to the extent that you would feel comfortable to play no holds barred truth or dare with it, then you have to visit each of these 3 regions.
So here I am, in the river town of Pucallpa, sitting in a pool of my own sweat, all bright eyed and bushy tailed ready to take a 4 day river boat up to the frontier town of Iquitos, which is by the way, the largest human settlement that is not accessible by road. (C´mon, you know you are impressed). Yahoo! Except of course, in classic Paddyesque timing, I arrive early on a Saturday morning( with, I might add, absolutely no concrete concept of the actual day of the week) only to be informed that boats do not leave on the weekend and that I would have to stay in town until the coming Monday. And Pucallpa, let me say, is not what you would call a party town, unless you consider comparing personal brands of body odour with the populace your idea of a good time.
Ah well, at least it gives me time to buy a hammock (Yes! Hammock!) and stock up on super duper insect repellent. And sweat some more. Did I mention it was quite hot?
Hmm, what else to tell you? That the Peruvian attitude to time is not flexible, but rather inexplicable. It appears to be that to be held waiting at a bus terminal 3 and a half hours after the stated time without any form of explanation is entirely acceptable, however to be stoped at road construction for over 21 seconds is sufficient grounds to declare a coup d´etat, dress the bus driver in drag, hang him from the ceiling and use him as an impromptu pinata.
Oh and I have now seen Machu Pichu, knocking another item off my list of important things to do before the onset of senility. One of the more interesting aspects of the site was the small group of young boys dressed in what appeared to be modified table clothes. They are actually imitating the Chispees, who were apparently the Inca´s empire messanger network. These boys make their living by racing the buses from the heights of Machu Pichu down to the train station back to Cusco. No mean feat I can tell you. Especially when you have to stop everytime the foot track crosses the road and do a tribal dance while screaming ´Inti Inti Inti Inti´ I wanted to give it a go, but the table cloth wouldn´t fit me.
Now if you´ll excuse me, I am off to have my 6th shower of the day .
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
So here I am, in the river town of Pucallpa, sitting in a pool of my own sweat, all bright eyed and bushy tailed ready to take a 4 day river boat up to the frontier town of Iquitos, which is by the way, the largest human settlement that is not accessible by road. (C´mon, you know you are impressed). Yahoo! Except of course, in classic Paddyesque timing, I arrive early on a Saturday morning( with, I might add, absolutely no concrete concept of the actual day of the week) only to be informed that boats do not leave on the weekend and that I would have to stay in town until the coming Monday. And Pucallpa, let me say, is not what you would call a party town, unless you consider comparing personal brands of body odour with the populace your idea of a good time.
Ah well, at least it gives me time to buy a hammock (Yes! Hammock!) and stock up on super duper insect repellent. And sweat some more. Did I mention it was quite hot?
Hmm, what else to tell you? That the Peruvian attitude to time is not flexible, but rather inexplicable. It appears to be that to be held waiting at a bus terminal 3 and a half hours after the stated time without any form of explanation is entirely acceptable, however to be stoped at road construction for over 21 seconds is sufficient grounds to declare a coup d´etat, dress the bus driver in drag, hang him from the ceiling and use him as an impromptu pinata.
Oh and I have now seen Machu Pichu, knocking another item off my list of important things to do before the onset of senility. One of the more interesting aspects of the site was the small group of young boys dressed in what appeared to be modified table clothes. They are actually imitating the Chispees, who were apparently the Inca´s empire messanger network. These boys make their living by racing the buses from the heights of Machu Pichu down to the train station back to Cusco. No mean feat I can tell you. Especially when you have to stop everytime the foot track crosses the road and do a tribal dance while screaming ´Inti Inti Inti Inti´ I wanted to give it a go, but the table cloth wouldn´t fit me.
Now if you´ll excuse me, I am off to have my 6th shower of the day .
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Stranger Danger.
Ahh... Cajamarca.
I am back in Peru... and like any steadfast and reliable friend, Peru has provided for me where others have dismally failed. (*cough* Ecuador *cough* *cough*) I write to you now with a twinkle in my eye and a spring in my step that was not to be seen before. (Well, that would be so if I were actually stepping, since I am sitting down, maybe it should be a bounce in my... posture)
Yes, I have found my thermal bath. And not just any old thermal bath. No I am a bit more special than that. A bit more regal, shall we say. So it was off down to the Baños del Inca where good old Atahualpa, the last Incan Emperor used to come to have his back scrubbed, his hair washed and perhaps the odd game of Marco Polo with his concubines.
I tell you, I have not found water this hot in all of my travels to date. Now this is probably not that difficult an achievement considering the general water temperature in South America tends to range from tepid to ´Excuse me sir, may I borrow your spatula, my head seems to have been frozen to my shoulder´. But despite this I assure that these baths were hot. Steamy. Scalding. Chock full of celciusly derived goodness. HOT.
Then of course, following my theraputic bath there was nothing else to be done except sign in for an all over body massage. Mmmm, body massage.
I was one very relaxed ex-paralegal, I tell you. And I can only assume that Mr Atahualpa was accustomed to feeling the same. Perhaps this was the problem.
You see, Cajamarca is also the site where Incan Empire really began to go to pieces. Perhaps the arrival of the Spanish, all 180 of them, was to Atahualpa just another potential group of massuers. Swedish, Spanish - you can see where the confusion could arise. Because despite having an army of 80,000 at his immediate disposal, he deemed the most appropriate course of action was to leave this army resting while he enter into an relatively enclosed area with a small retinue. The motivation for this action was the desire to learn more about Christianity. Too trusting by half. The Spanish then preceded to beat the living daylights out of his retinue and lock the Incan Emperor up in a small building in the centre of the city.
But Mr Atahualpa was not the sharpest tool in the box- he did not learn from this experience anything about the nature of his new illegal arrivals. So when the Spanish said ´Sorry, this has all been a bit of a mistake, tell you what, you fill a sizable room up with gold, and we will let you go´ rather than responding ´Yeah right, like I believe that you pale faced goons, watch now as my empire of 10-15 million people grinds your puny force into an oily pulp!!´, Mr Atahualpa said ´Sure!! You seem like honourable enough guys, what could go wrong´ The message was sent out to his people, the room was filled with gold, Atahualpa was promptly executed and the Incan empire composed as it was of a lot of different peoples who didn´t much like each other, began a fairly rapid disintegration.
Bit of a shame really.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
I am back in Peru... and like any steadfast and reliable friend, Peru has provided for me where others have dismally failed. (*cough* Ecuador *cough* *cough*) I write to you now with a twinkle in my eye and a spring in my step that was not to be seen before. (Well, that would be so if I were actually stepping, since I am sitting down, maybe it should be a bounce in my... posture)
Yes, I have found my thermal bath. And not just any old thermal bath. No I am a bit more special than that. A bit more regal, shall we say. So it was off down to the Baños del Inca where good old Atahualpa, the last Incan Emperor used to come to have his back scrubbed, his hair washed and perhaps the odd game of Marco Polo with his concubines.
I tell you, I have not found water this hot in all of my travels to date. Now this is probably not that difficult an achievement considering the general water temperature in South America tends to range from tepid to ´Excuse me sir, may I borrow your spatula, my head seems to have been frozen to my shoulder´. But despite this I assure that these baths were hot. Steamy. Scalding. Chock full of celciusly derived goodness. HOT.
Then of course, following my theraputic bath there was nothing else to be done except sign in for an all over body massage. Mmmm, body massage.
I was one very relaxed ex-paralegal, I tell you. And I can only assume that Mr Atahualpa was accustomed to feeling the same. Perhaps this was the problem.
You see, Cajamarca is also the site where Incan Empire really began to go to pieces. Perhaps the arrival of the Spanish, all 180 of them, was to Atahualpa just another potential group of massuers. Swedish, Spanish - you can see where the confusion could arise. Because despite having an army of 80,000 at his immediate disposal, he deemed the most appropriate course of action was to leave this army resting while he enter into an relatively enclosed area with a small retinue. The motivation for this action was the desire to learn more about Christianity. Too trusting by half. The Spanish then preceded to beat the living daylights out of his retinue and lock the Incan Emperor up in a small building in the centre of the city.
But Mr Atahualpa was not the sharpest tool in the box- he did not learn from this experience anything about the nature of his new illegal arrivals. So when the Spanish said ´Sorry, this has all been a bit of a mistake, tell you what, you fill a sizable room up with gold, and we will let you go´ rather than responding ´Yeah right, like I believe that you pale faced goons, watch now as my empire of 10-15 million people grinds your puny force into an oily pulp!!´, Mr Atahualpa said ´Sure!! You seem like honourable enough guys, what could go wrong´ The message was sent out to his people, the room was filled with gold, Atahualpa was promptly executed and the Incan empire composed as it was of a lot of different peoples who didn´t much like each other, began a fairly rapid disintegration.
Bit of a shame really.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
The pursuit of excellence...
Well, despite the fact that the plugs have changed and I can no longer charge my camera or ipod, Ecuador has redeemed itself in my eyes. Yes, it may have taken me 5 months, but finally I have successfully located a Latin American Pub (well, Pub-like thingee) that offers that guilty pleasure... Trivia.
Mmmm - awww I still have that warm fuzzy feeling that comes from the obnoxious display of useless knowledge. Truly it is the Sydney´s metrosexual´s (or whatever the &%·$"! they are now calling well dressed, intelligent males who have poor hand eye co-ordination...) equivalent of beating his chest, killing a large smelly animal or urinating in a public place. Truly, Quito is now aware that I have ARRIVED!
Oh, by the way-
1. Which is the only South American country to have ever had an emperor?
2. What was the currency of Ecuador prior to dollarisation?
3. From which country does the sport of Lacrosse originate?
Ahh, I am still buzzing
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Mmmm - awww I still have that warm fuzzy feeling that comes from the obnoxious display of useless knowledge. Truly it is the Sydney´s metrosexual´s (or whatever the &%·$"! they are now calling well dressed, intelligent males who have poor hand eye co-ordination...) equivalent of beating his chest, killing a large smelly animal or urinating in a public place. Truly, Quito is now aware that I have ARRIVED!
Oh, by the way-
1. Which is the only South American country to have ever had an emperor?
2. What was the currency of Ecuador prior to dollarisation?
3. From which country does the sport of Lacrosse originate?
Ahh, I am still buzzing
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Saturday, August 19, 2006
When the world turns against you...
I am now in Ecuador.
Yes, sunny Ecuador. The only place in the world, as far as I am aware, to be named after an imaginary line.
But you know, something tells me that Ecuador is none to happy too have me bustling about the place. Yes, indeed I get the distinct feeling that I am far from welcome.
Perhaps it was the fact that I have had my passport checked more than 7 times in the duration of my stay here. (24 hours and counting). Or perhaps it was the charming fist fight that I was privy to on the bus ride up to Quito from the border with Peru
(and I tell you, those women knew how to throw a punch!). Or it could be the near torrential thunder storm that suceeded in scaring the living daylights out of me as we careened across the less than wonderful roads. (At least it destabilised the women enough to make them stop fighting)
No... it was none of these things, instead the height of rudeness, the deepest depth to which this small country has descended to ensure that I am aware of my less than welcome status was to organise to have a major volcanic eruption as soon as, and I mean as soon as, I crossed the border into the country.
Good old Tungurahua. It has been building up to an eruption for a good year now, but apparently this is the best time of year to pull out all the stops. I was going to head down to Baños, one of three places I intended to visit in this rather unexciting nation (personal opinion only people... do not let me discourage you... and apparently the Galapolos are stupendous). However this is now in the process of being covered with a rather large amount of ash.
None of this however will stop me from my goal. I will spend a good five minutes jumping from one side of the equator to the other ranting ´Northern Hemisphere... Southern Hemisphere... Northern Hemisphere... Southern Hemisphere...
An addendum: I am of course aware of the fact that this volcanic eruption is causing immeasurate suffering for a large number of people. And I sincerely hope that any damage to life, limb or property can be limited as much as possible.
But I did so want that thermal bath...
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
Yes, sunny Ecuador. The only place in the world, as far as I am aware, to be named after an imaginary line.
But you know, something tells me that Ecuador is none to happy too have me bustling about the place. Yes, indeed I get the distinct feeling that I am far from welcome.
Perhaps it was the fact that I have had my passport checked more than 7 times in the duration of my stay here. (24 hours and counting). Or perhaps it was the charming fist fight that I was privy to on the bus ride up to Quito from the border with Peru
(and I tell you, those women knew how to throw a punch!). Or it could be the near torrential thunder storm that suceeded in scaring the living daylights out of me as we careened across the less than wonderful roads. (At least it destabilised the women enough to make them stop fighting)
No... it was none of these things, instead the height of rudeness, the deepest depth to which this small country has descended to ensure that I am aware of my less than welcome status was to organise to have a major volcanic eruption as soon as, and I mean as soon as, I crossed the border into the country.
Good old Tungurahua. It has been building up to an eruption for a good year now, but apparently this is the best time of year to pull out all the stops. I was going to head down to Baños, one of three places I intended to visit in this rather unexciting nation (personal opinion only people... do not let me discourage you... and apparently the Galapolos are stupendous). However this is now in the process of being covered with a rather large amount of ash.
None of this however will stop me from my goal. I will spend a good five minutes jumping from one side of the equator to the other ranting ´Northern Hemisphere... Southern Hemisphere... Northern Hemisphere... Southern Hemisphere...
An addendum: I am of course aware of the fact that this volcanic eruption is causing immeasurate suffering for a large number of people. And I sincerely hope that any damage to life, limb or property can be limited as much as possible.
But I did so want that thermal bath...
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Friday, August 11, 2006
I fought the law...
and the law won.
But more on that later.
Firstly, one´s travels cannot be complete without an open air concert. It is the definitive mark of one´s experience, one´s hallmark. It represents a challenge, a struggle, a slight tussle. Yes, Caeser had his Rubicon, the allies had their Normandy, Humpty, well he had his wall. And I, I have my Grupo Cinco concert.
Grupo Cinco, I hear you cry? Grupo Cinco? Arn´t those the five prats who rant on about how they have just arrived or returned or some such?
You Fools!
How can you not know the joy, the rapture, the hip wiggling, that is Grupo Cinco. They are the geniuses of the anthems that are
Te vas (Te Vas, TE VAS, TE VAS!!!!!!!)
Sabor a Miel (que me gusta)
and...
Cuanto por el tubo!!!
If you are yet to aquaint yourself with these gems of musical brillance, I insist that you catapault yourself out of your chair and rush down to the local fish records to annoy that pimply faced youth who you had a crush on in the late 1990´s until he orders a copy in for you.
The dancing, well maybe we will talk of that later, because the real excitement of the night was actually before the concert when I was lucky enough to have my first close up encounter with the law enforcement of personnel of Peru...
SCENE: Dark night halfway between two towns that I cannot remember the name of. Side of road sitting in a small autorick, with a large police vehicle parked directly behind.
CHARACTERS: 2 policement with big guns and even bigger sticks, Patrick, Jessica and 4 students from the Madge.
Polieman No.1 ´Papers, please´
Patrick: ´Papers?´(confused look indicating quick flash back to the unfinished cryptic crossword of that morning.
Policeman 2:Identity card.´ ´
Patrick: ´Ah, I´m Australian!´(smile, indicating that this should solve everything)
Policeman 2: ´Passport then.´ (expression that indicates he thinks is dealing with a lunatic.)
Patrick: Umm, don´t actually have it with me. Sorry.
Policeman 1: ´You will come with us to the police station then´ (brusquely... as if dealing with a minor infringement is a direct affront to the honour his very shiny badge.)
Patrick: ´Ok... if we have to´
SCENE 2: Police station. Some tasteful shorts of naked women covered with various types of dairy products festoon the walls.
Policeman 2: ´You are a bad man.´
Policeman 1: ´Very bad´
Policeman 2: ´Bad Australian. Bad bad bad bad bad!
Policeman 1: ´Oh so bad´
Policeman 2: ´Badder than Michael Jackson in that song he did in the carpark´
Policeman 1: Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad. Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-bad!BAD!
Patrick: Here is 20 soles.
Both Policeman: ´Thank you. Have a nice evening. Oh and enjoy the concert.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
But more on that later.
Firstly, one´s travels cannot be complete without an open air concert. It is the definitive mark of one´s experience, one´s hallmark. It represents a challenge, a struggle, a slight tussle. Yes, Caeser had his Rubicon, the allies had their Normandy, Humpty, well he had his wall. And I, I have my Grupo Cinco concert.
Grupo Cinco, I hear you cry? Grupo Cinco? Arn´t those the five prats who rant on about how they have just arrived or returned or some such?
You Fools!
How can you not know the joy, the rapture, the hip wiggling, that is Grupo Cinco. They are the geniuses of the anthems that are
Te vas (Te Vas, TE VAS, TE VAS!!!!!!!)
Sabor a Miel (que me gusta)
and...
Cuanto por el tubo!!!
If you are yet to aquaint yourself with these gems of musical brillance, I insist that you catapault yourself out of your chair and rush down to the local fish records to annoy that pimply faced youth who you had a crush on in the late 1990´s until he orders a copy in for you.
The dancing, well maybe we will talk of that later, because the real excitement of the night was actually before the concert when I was lucky enough to have my first close up encounter with the law enforcement of personnel of Peru...
SCENE: Dark night halfway between two towns that I cannot remember the name of. Side of road sitting in a small autorick, with a large police vehicle parked directly behind.
CHARACTERS: 2 policement with big guns and even bigger sticks, Patrick, Jessica and 4 students from the Madge.
Polieman No.1 ´Papers, please´
Patrick: ´Papers?´(confused look indicating quick flash back to the unfinished cryptic crossword of that morning.
Policeman 2:Identity card.´ ´
Patrick: ´Ah, I´m Australian!´(smile, indicating that this should solve everything)
Policeman 2: ´Passport then.´ (expression that indicates he thinks is dealing with a lunatic.)
Patrick: Umm, don´t actually have it with me. Sorry.
Policeman 1: ´You will come with us to the police station then´ (brusquely... as if dealing with a minor infringement is a direct affront to the honour his very shiny badge.)
Patrick: ´Ok... if we have to´
SCENE 2: Police station. Some tasteful shorts of naked women covered with various types of dairy products festoon the walls.
Policeman 2: ´You are a bad man.´
Policeman 1: ´Very bad´
Policeman 2: ´Bad Australian. Bad bad bad bad bad!
Policeman 1: ´Oh so bad´
Policeman 2: ´Badder than Michael Jackson in that song he did in the carpark´
Policeman 1: Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad. Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-bad!BAD!
Patrick: Here is 20 soles.
Both Policeman: ´Thank you. Have a nice evening. Oh and enjoy the concert.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
The ties that bind.
I am less than a spectacular uncle at the moment.
Through the simple and easily made oversight of not actually being in the same country as my nephews I have failed to at any time be in the same room as the most recent addition to our family, little Leo.
I have missed... well, those things that babies do in the first few months of life, you know, cry, eat, sleep. Now that might not sound like a lot to those of you who are decidedly un-clucky - but it is the way that they do it! It is so cute!!!! It takes a particular kind of infantile talent to fart in an adorable fashion.
But I have not been entirely lax in my familiar duties. Not I, no sir! I have just being directing them to a different family. Yup, this weekend I went to my very first Peruvian baptism. Oh and the associated extended party-food fest-general chaos. Oh, yes, little Majori has been introduced into the family of God with style.
The ceromony itself was over in the a flash. Despite the fact that they like to do things in large groups here, the 10 or so kiddies that were getting dunked headfirst into a bucket were processed quicker than you could say ´Ave Maria´. The rather querilous old Spanish Priest was a maestro with the holy water, I tell you! Little Majori looked very pretty in her special white communion dress and quite enjoyed been the centre of attention, even more so than usual.
But it was the party that brought the real fun. Dancing till 6 am with eldery Peruvians is an experience like no other. These women have more stamina than drafthorses. Fuah! Not that I am wanting to compare any woman to a horse. It is a metaphor people!
They also have a rather disconcerting custom here with regards to the consumption of alcohol. Rather than each person having their own glass from which to partake one glass is considered to be sufficient. You but a dash of beer in your own glass and then pass the bottle to the next person in line. This other person is then required to salute you, obviously for the precious gift of alcohol that you have bestowed upon him. You then scull your drink and pass the glass on for the process to begin anew.
Now aside from the fact that my immediate thought at been taught this custom was ´Arrgh girl germs!´, it does create a strong sense of comradery and also aids in accelarating the onset of tipsiness- as you clearly have no way of effectively monitoring how much you are drinking.
This can be a good thing. Especially when you have to share your room with 8 other people of all ages united by the fact that they all snore like troopers.
Say it with me now...
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Through the simple and easily made oversight of not actually being in the same country as my nephews I have failed to at any time be in the same room as the most recent addition to our family, little Leo.
I have missed... well, those things that babies do in the first few months of life, you know, cry, eat, sleep. Now that might not sound like a lot to those of you who are decidedly un-clucky - but it is the way that they do it! It is so cute!!!! It takes a particular kind of infantile talent to fart in an adorable fashion.
But I have not been entirely lax in my familiar duties. Not I, no sir! I have just being directing them to a different family. Yup, this weekend I went to my very first Peruvian baptism. Oh and the associated extended party-food fest-general chaos. Oh, yes, little Majori has been introduced into the family of God with style.
The ceromony itself was over in the a flash. Despite the fact that they like to do things in large groups here, the 10 or so kiddies that were getting dunked headfirst into a bucket were processed quicker than you could say ´Ave Maria´. The rather querilous old Spanish Priest was a maestro with the holy water, I tell you! Little Majori looked very pretty in her special white communion dress and quite enjoyed been the centre of attention, even more so than usual.
But it was the party that brought the real fun. Dancing till 6 am with eldery Peruvians is an experience like no other. These women have more stamina than drafthorses. Fuah! Not that I am wanting to compare any woman to a horse. It is a metaphor people!
They also have a rather disconcerting custom here with regards to the consumption of alcohol. Rather than each person having their own glass from which to partake one glass is considered to be sufficient. You but a dash of beer in your own glass and then pass the bottle to the next person in line. This other person is then required to salute you, obviously for the precious gift of alcohol that you have bestowed upon him. You then scull your drink and pass the glass on for the process to begin anew.
Now aside from the fact that my immediate thought at been taught this custom was ´Arrgh girl germs!´, it does create a strong sense of comradery and also aids in accelarating the onset of tipsiness- as you clearly have no way of effectively monitoring how much you are drinking.
This can be a good thing. Especially when you have to share your room with 8 other people of all ages united by the fact that they all snore like troopers.
Say it with me now...
Rock and Roll.
Paddy
Friday, August 04, 2006
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Update.
They say that no news is good news.
But then I was never the bearer of good news. So you can just consider me your very own Grim Reaper (with a tad bit more flesh to him... just a tad mind you) as I impart to you all the happy and not so happy details of my rollacking jaunt.
So here is the low down. The what´s up. The Where have I left my pants again?
I am still in the Madge. And dear god, I want a hot shower! Please please please can someone find me a hot shower! At this point I am considering getting someone to throw a luke warm cup of tea over my left shoulder to get some small iota of satisfaction.(And those of you who wish to suggest that if I can obtain a hot cup of tea I should be also able to obtain hot water for a shower can kindly be quiet! Logic will not be tolerated here.)
The week of festivities for the foundation has come and gone.. and boy was it fun. Although I am disappointed to report that the lovely lady who I judged to be the most suitable Queen of the Pueblo only managed to achieve second place. The outrageous bias of my fellow judges was so heinous as to be absolutely unforgivable! They seemed to think that it was unreasonable to judge entirely on potential semblance to Shakira. And to answer a well put question from the unsurpassable Fyfe-ster... sadly there was no swimsuit category. There was however a ´How much do I love Peru?´section which I think was unfairly heavily weighted. I would have much preferred the more useful ´Let me explain why Peruvians think it necessary to turn off the fridge each and every night´ or a ´Where in God´s name can I find a decent cup of Red wine?´ sections. But small quibbles, as always, just small quibbles.
The dancing was great fun as well. Oh yes, a drunken night mixing it with the brightest and best of the Madge´s A-list out in the town´s hippest venues.(In this case, the local soccer field). What a highlight! Beer a plenty, good music, beautiful guys and gals and songs with a bass line strong enough for me to manage to keep my feet in time. Up till four then stumbled home accompanied by a veritable crowd of protecters - everyone here is convinced that their sleepy little town is a seething pit of violent crime. We are constantly told not to walk down this street or the other. The fact that everyone knows each other and that no place is more than 45 seconds walk away from the other (at the very least a firm ´HELP´ would suffice) does nothing to dampen this paranoia.
Ah, its the little imperfections that make you love a place.
Rock and Roll
Paddy.
But then I was never the bearer of good news. So you can just consider me your very own Grim Reaper (with a tad bit more flesh to him... just a tad mind you) as I impart to you all the happy and not so happy details of my rollacking jaunt.
So here is the low down. The what´s up. The Where have I left my pants again?
I am still in the Madge. And dear god, I want a hot shower! Please please please can someone find me a hot shower! At this point I am considering getting someone to throw a luke warm cup of tea over my left shoulder to get some small iota of satisfaction.(And those of you who wish to suggest that if I can obtain a hot cup of tea I should be also able to obtain hot water for a shower can kindly be quiet! Logic will not be tolerated here.)
The week of festivities for the foundation has come and gone.. and boy was it fun. Although I am disappointed to report that the lovely lady who I judged to be the most suitable Queen of the Pueblo only managed to achieve second place. The outrageous bias of my fellow judges was so heinous as to be absolutely unforgivable! They seemed to think that it was unreasonable to judge entirely on potential semblance to Shakira. And to answer a well put question from the unsurpassable Fyfe-ster... sadly there was no swimsuit category. There was however a ´How much do I love Peru?´section which I think was unfairly heavily weighted. I would have much preferred the more useful ´Let me explain why Peruvians think it necessary to turn off the fridge each and every night´ or a ´Where in God´s name can I find a decent cup of Red wine?´ sections. But small quibbles, as always, just small quibbles.
The dancing was great fun as well. Oh yes, a drunken night mixing it with the brightest and best of the Madge´s A-list out in the town´s hippest venues.(In this case, the local soccer field). What a highlight! Beer a plenty, good music, beautiful guys and gals and songs with a bass line strong enough for me to manage to keep my feet in time. Up till four then stumbled home accompanied by a veritable crowd of protecters - everyone here is convinced that their sleepy little town is a seething pit of violent crime. We are constantly told not to walk down this street or the other. The fact that everyone knows each other and that no place is more than 45 seconds walk away from the other (at the very least a firm ´HELP´ would suffice) does nothing to dampen this paranoia.
Ah, its the little imperfections that make you love a place.
Rock and Roll
Paddy.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Sunday, July 16, 2006
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