High altitude and vertigo

Finally, I've broken it in! It took a while, in the interim I have been quite embarrassed by my rugged, outdoorsman status, trying to pretend the groomed island between the lanes of Santiago's ring road is off-road. It has been taking up my dining room wondering if is destined to suburbia with the occasional pavement thrown in. "Surely there must be more to life?"

Well, yesterday it earned its name, and we breathed (or rather gasped) fresh wilderness air. It's not called a mountain bike for nothing, so I took it to the mountain. I didn't return with a stone tablet, but rather with a flat. Luckily a slow one that I only noticed this morning.

One hour and 40 hairpin bends out of Santiago you arrive at La Parva. One of the ski areas that lurks at 3200m somewhere between here and El Plomo, which still has some snow, but at La Parva the only way to go skiing righ now is to fall off your bike. After enthusiastically jumping on my bike and sprinting away for the first 5 metres I was not so gently reminded of the altitude (well thats my excuse and I'm sticking to it), needless to say granny gear and I are now one.

Now this is why I thought it would be fun to live in Santiago, and what a jol, especially the downhill part :)





















Curve 10 of 40, Bain would be proud! Nice touch, they're all numbered.

















La Parva on the approach.

















Fresh ice melt stream, some ski lift pylons heading up the left.






















Looking towards Santiago...It is still summer down below, I promise.













La Parva, where we came from. That is El Colorado, another ski area in the distance.









All white in winter.

At about 3pm I received a call... "someone's bailed on me, you interested?", and so I landed up at U2's Vertigo concert at Chile's national stadium along with 70 000 of my closest friends. It was an incredible concert. At stages it got a bit preachy about poverty and peace, as U2 are prone to do, but I guess in this day and age someone needs to say these things. Especially since politicians are too busy trying to get reelected to tell the truth and say what counts. Ridiculously expensive, but magic concert, and there were plenty of the classics to not make me feel too old.

















The magic of a concert in Santiago.... the beautifully sunset lit up Andes.

















Not called vertigo for nothing.... rrwwwaaaallllfffff
















U2 go preachy... pretty cool message though! I wonder if the car bombing, embassy burning, gungho types like U2???


















Sign of the times: Gone with the lighter... wave your cell phone...

















One of the classics (haha sorry). Apologies the dodgy phone photies.

Great Sunday... now I just need my legs to become friends with me again. A rarified air and classic song wish for you this week.

Stand back Schumie...

It's been a lean blog week... not nearly as lean as Santiago though. There are two types of people in Chile right now, those on holiday at the coast and those that wish they were on holiday at the coast. Both these kinds make Santiago feel just bustling right now...

So instead of sitting in the traffic to get to the coast last weekend I took in some speed and got to cruise with the wind in my hair, well not really, had a helmet on (sounds better than not enough hair for the wind)... yip needed that helmet... haven't told you how bad the driving is here huh? At least there was wind in leg hairs. Stand back Schumie, maybe after news spreads of my go-karting prowess Jean Todt will finally make that call.

It's a bit like golf.... I've probably started a bit to late huh??? (yea right I'm going to put a photie of me in a silly cotton balaklava on the web)

Wishing you some wind in your hair! Or some hair if that's your problem...

Belo Horizionte:

My recent trip to Brazil also took me to the cool city of Belo Horizonte, you have to sacrifice the beaches, but Belo Horizonte has a wonderful atomosphere, feels safer than other big Brazilian cities, and I think Minas Gerais is even famous in Brazil for its beautiful people, what a treat! Great food, plenty beer and I think I have already touched on the wonderful people... go visit!

A view of Brazil's third largest city from the hotel roof .
















The new Alta Vila shopping center and tower on the Belo Horizonte / Nova Lima border.
















Yes, you can do this from the tower........















Bungeeeeeeeeeee......... (note the before and after clouds... it took him a while to take the plunge...)










Belo Horizonte from the tower












View in the other direction towards Nova Lima

Have a magic week, wishing you a Sunday afternoon in Belo.... trust me it's a good thing!

Faith restored

After my last rant posting, I am pleased to report faith restored, and as usual this achieved by nature, of which the human seems not to belong.

Sometimes the cramped task of flying is actually pleasurable, and last night was one of those occasions. Firstly because we arrived and secondly the most beautiful night landscapes. The flight took off way late, for a change not the fault of Varig, but because of a quite spectacular storm a brewing in São Paulo. That accounts for the joy of arriving, we cruised straight through the storm after take off with the plane lit up from all sides by lightning. I miss Joburg sotrms, but this was a little too close.

Just after midnight, the storm behind us, we were somewhere over Paraguay or Argentina and the slightly gibbous moon was on its way to the Andes, along with us. As we passed over the rivers and lakes below, the moon's reflection glistened off the otherwise black ground with a silver shimmer. In the distance on the horizon you could see more lightning, a really weird combination. Beautiful!

Content to be back in Chile, although I do have one wish, as part of the buy-out or refinancing of Varig, please move the landing gear test program from 'operations' to 'R&D'... oh no wait, here's an idea, how about training your pilots?

Stop the world! I wanna get off...

It is Sunday evening and I am in the wonderful city of Belo Horizonte. It has been a magic day, ruined by foolishly switching across to BBC world. ¿¿¿Have you all lost your marbles??? The Iranians want to build bombs, as if anyone can afford to use them, while the US are being as arrogant and hypocritical about it as ever. Some plonker was caught smuggling 30 panda skins, and there's talk of a 700 mile wall to stop Mexicans smuggling themselves. A bunch of religious nuts burnt down the Danish embassy and there are more automatic rifles beeing waved around than there are corrupt politicians. And that's just the first few headlines.

You're a bunch of lunatics, lighten up! It's a cartoon for (political correctness dictates the insertion of your deity of choice here) sake. Humanity, hhmmmm...

Where was McAdam???

Back in one of my favourite spots in South America... Brazil. I am always amazed by the people when I come here, very warm and friendly. There seems to be a mix of just about every kind of person. Although, in the old days, it seems the Scots really didn't take much interest in Brazil. This has resulted in two serious problems... the whisky is hellava expensive, and the roads are shocking!!! It is obvious by the zillion potholes that McAdam wasn't big on Samba. The road to the little town of Niquelândia from Brasilia is riddled with little patches of asphalt, in retrospect for which I am grateful! Ayrton Senna is not dead, he is alive and kicking (the accelerator) in Niquelândia. During my seven hours, to and from the land of nickel, I have gained tremendous respect for tyres. Glad it wasn't my car we were trashing.

According to Garuti et al "The Niquelandia layered intrusion was emplaced in the Middle Proterozoic (1560-1600Ma) as a result of continental rifting, and underwent amphibolite to granulite facies metamorphism at about 770-795 Ma", hmmm what I do know is Niquelândia, she's not big... about 50 000 people, an airport with a 4693 foot runway, although no one seems to use it and just up the road is the world's second largest dam, the Turucuí*. Despite the size, there are plenty of little bars and 'restaurants' to make the time spent their fattening. The Big Lanche barzinho, near the town plaza, became a bit of a ritual, just seemed to call out each evening after work... beers and pastel.
















Our after work watering hole...




































Niquelândia plaza with another little barzinho on the plaza...































This is a fresh water fish called a Tucunare, or peacock bass .... hmmm yummy, a good change from the mountains of great meat I usually eat in Brazil
















No really, it was the storm that made us stay for the extra beer...





































So much for a passion wagon... yip! that's garlic, how not to get lucky in Brazil.


I didn't get to see much of Brasilia, but despite it being a planned city, they seemed to have also forgotten to get the asphalt recipe.

Wishing you a wonderful week with not too much garlic and lots of bitumen...

* While we are talking dams... do yourself a favour, or forget yourself and do your neighbour a favour - read Arundhati Roy's essays in her book "Algebra of infinite justice", beutifully written discussion of big dams and nuclear weapons in India.

Dinner out...

It's raining and its fairly late, not by Chilean standards. We are looking for a place, apparently in this part of town, for some 'typical food from the north'. The town is in the middle of nowhere, or more like the middle of Brazil, a little spot called Niquelândia.

We find what we are looking for, I only know this because of the thumbs up we receive from the big guy behind the counter to whom we shouted the names of the typical dishes from our car window. We are the only ones there, besides the big guy. There are two tables inside and one outside. The furniture is of the garden variety, bright yellow beer company sponsored plastic.

You enter through two narrow roller doors, and the place is only just wider. Straight away you get the run-down dirty Cuban feel from the old pressed ceiling, the blown light bulb, old chest freezer, concrete floor and ceiling fan that seems not to have moved in ages. The walls were once all a mustardy colour, they are still mustardy where alterations, cracks, new windows and damp haven't taken control. Despite this the place is clean and welcoming.

In the immediate corner are the crates of old beer bottles. As you move across, the counter and mini tv catches your eye, a football game is on, competing with some not so modern pop falling out of a dodgy speaker. Behind the counter on the walls are rows of various cachaças, one of the shelves has a cardboard holder for disposable bic razor blades pinned to it. The light fades as you head towards the far corner behind the freezer with hinges indicating it is from a bygone day when people opened lids with conviction. The big guy lurks with a wonderful smile as he opens the first of the quarts. We are already friends, know the menu that doesn't exist, the score and that he doesn't have Shakira.

The far wall has a small A4 sign saying that this is a family atmosphere and people without shirts are not allowed. The last corner has a small hand basin, not sure if its been used - ever.

Someone takes up the outside table everyone is greeted and he gets a cachaça. It is about now that you start to understand Brazil. It is all about the simple pleasures, we are all sharing the same quart from small glasses (makes sense, the beer stays cold), the food is talked about, and seemingly nothing is continually discussed all night.

Right now the Ritz can't come close, what we have can't be created by the finest chef and interior decorator. What we have is no pretense food, great beer and awesome company, besides here we get offered seconds and don't have to order the next bottle (it just seems to arrive). What a spot! Now just have to gather friends from around the world.






























Excuse the iffy phone photos...

Conspiracy theory

It is quite amazing how we take it for granted that there is this hulk of a rock floating around the earth. We walk around with it 'above' us like it's completely normal, which it is, but WOW!

Well yesterday I visited the moon, yes we walked on the moon. The atmosphere rarefied, dry, hasn't seen rain for years, warm in the sun and cold in the shadows. I haven't lost it, here's the proof:
















It is just like in the books, irrefutable evidence that my fellow astronaut, a size 10, set foot on the moon... Well that, or the Americans landed in the Atacama desert near Antofagasta in '69. Judging by the sticky tape and tinfoil Eagle twin brother in the Smithsonian, hhmmm I wouldn't be surprised.

It's not the kind of place I could live, but to be out there in the middle of vast nothingness is pretty darn special. Especially the drive in the evening when the light adds definition to the endless expanse and all its little bumps and creases. Without all the things that make life so simple you realise that you are not nearly so significant. Heading down off the Andes into the red sunset offers a two hour downhill drive, can't be many places where you can do that.

So some views of nothing on the way down the little hill...























Hope you have a magic week and get to feel like you're my fellow size 10 desertanaut, plodding the moon.

City Dogs

I decided the other day that I am actually quite lucky. As much as airlines, customs officials and hotels go out of their way to inconvenience any travel arrangement, I am pretty fortunate to be able to see different parts of the world. The indignity of getting half undressed for the metal detector at the airport is worth it. It is not just the beautiful or sometimes ugly scenery, the diverse people or cultures, there are times when it is just about watching the dogs.
















Santiago dogs have it good with fire hydrant dreams

















Sao Paulo dogs need to get out a little more

















Cajamarca dogs have the run of the house

little things

When you move to a new place, you expect 'them' to drive on the wrong side of the road, speak a different language and use funny money. You are ready for all the big stuff, no matter how big a change, it isn't something odd. It's the little stuff, that's what makes you wonder how you have become so conditioned. The little stuff that catches you off guard. For instance here in Chile most of the salt and pepper cellars I have come across have the white salty stuff coming out of the multi holed dispenser, this fits with the general adversity to things 'picante', but it's wrong! I remember handling London just fine until my taste buds were assaulted by cheese and onion flavour from a blue packet. That's wrong! Everybody knows blue means salt and vinegar. In fact I think that island may suffer from some blue-green colour blindness. Ask any 3 year old and they will tell you cream soda is green, where do the brits come with blue?

It's the little things that count, here are some other little things from here and there:

I know the photies don't fit the story, but a picture of a chip packet isn't that exciting... besides they're little...

Cajamarca

About an hour north of Lima by plane, just inland of Trujillo is a beautiful little spot called Cajamarca. I love the place and I can only describe why by saying it has aura. It has awful poverty and ugly buildings. But, and it's a big but, it has some magic architecture, beautiful people, great cheese and sooo much character.

There are about 100 000 people who live in this gold rich area. It has an interesting history dating back over 3000 years, and is where Atahualpa, the last Inca king, was killed by the Spanish conquistadors. Unlike Chile, when walking in the street, you are still very aware that there was an ancient civilization that roamed the area, and I guess that is one aspect that makes it special.

Just before Atahualpa was killed he filled a 'randsome room' with gold and silver as payment for his life, guess that didn't work... the room is 88 cubic metres.... hmmmm that is about 30 billion dollars in today's money. The Spanish must have really not liked him...

View up the stairs to Santa Apolonia, a church and lookout spot just above the town





















Church in town, recently renovated and painted
















Typical street in town
















A lot of the buildings are adobe with beautiful balcony windows and elaborate doors and entrances
















Courtyard of our hacienda style hotel







Cajamarca from Santa Apolonia

Wishing you a week where there is some beautiful aura to appreciate.

Handsome now

So what's all this handsome talk about, it can't be natural. Indeed it is all in the eye of the beholder, and the eye has been compromised by the green stuff - coca sour!

There is a big debate about who makes the best pisco sour, in fact who 'owns' the pisco sour. Forget international waters and 'the war', this is the important one, just one of the many niggles between Chile and Peru.

You're wasting your time! Whether Peruvian or Chilean, they just don't come close to the smooth coca sour. To be found in the beautiful town of Cajamarca, this Peruvian pisco sour with the green tinge, as a result of the pisco being steeped in coca leaves, takes the cake!

¡¡¡Handsome now!!! (stopped before getting rich and bullet proof)

Laundry day

It has been week of way too much graft and staring at things technical, so I thought I would drop you a note to let you know that the militar school seems to have tossed their flag in the laundry. In fact the whole of Santiago seems like it has had a good wash. The thirty odd degrees we have been having for the last few weeks seem to have sorted out that pollution (which must be responsible for Santiago having more pharmacies per capita than any other town in the world). So now there are beautiful views of ol' cerro el plomo, thats the 5400 and a few metre peak that lurks alongside the bowl that is Santiago. It is not always visible through cloud and smog, but lately its been looking real close and calling. Mid January and there is still snow up there, in fact there is still quite a bit given I haven't needed an umbrella for ages. Nice!

Next week I am off to visit the mountains of Peru for work, I am indeed looking forward to those Humitas and coca sours.
















Laundry day at Escuela Militar















Hope you have a wonderful weekend and get to feel as handsome as I will after that coca sour... Hasta leugo