paddy 028
Originally uploaded by paddydaley.
Market in Chiclayo
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
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