The times they are a changing

The last weekend was a Santiago one. Right now in Santiago is the time of change. There are clouds on the mountains, the evenings are cool, leaves are browning (can you say that??) the sun is getting that less effective angle to it. It might be my imagination but the haziness that seems to be winter here is slowly accumulating on a bad day... Last Saturday more abrupt changes happened in Chile. We have a new president, my new neighbour, well sort of, a few blocks down... on my walk to the office I get looked up and down by the cops, makes me feel guilty for something... Amazing how the neighbourhood gets cleaned up, trees cut, new street lights, new road paint. Thanks Michelle, hope my rent doesn't go up now. Maybe if Thabo lived in South Africa a bit more often they would try sort out the electricity, sure his plane works fine though. Good to see him hobnobbing with all the unsavouries at the inauguration in Chile though.

Oh yes we were talking changes... the other is that I am now further from most of you by an hour. Clocks changed on Saturday, it is a real bummer being jetlagged without the fun of going somewhere, like feeling hungover without the party. Everyone looks a bit down because they go home in the dark now and the morning sun disturbs their late lie in.

It's actually pretty cool, good weather, beautiful trees and...... bring on the snow!!!

The government building is called La Moneda, we caught a bit of a parade per chance as part of the inauguration happenings
















La Moneda entrance or back door, difficult to tell...

Have a magic week, hope the change of season is making you a little restless.

Up the cajón without a paddle...

For the second weekend in a row I have made good use of Santiago, I am at the stage where the best way to make use of Santiago is to get out of it... Don't get me wrong, magic city, but cumaaan they didn't put it next to the awesome Andes for nothing!

Just down the road and most the way to Argentina is a spot called Baños Morales in the Maipo canyon. At first Baños Morales is just a good place to park and start the walk, but it grows on you when you return, hot and thirsty, and it becomes the place of cold beer too...

The walk is a 7 and a bit kilometers uphill stroll to the end of the valley where you can find some all year round ice hanging onto the cliffs of Cerro San Francisco topping out at 4345m. Really beautiful day out with some fresh high mountain air, giving just a taste of what it is like to get into the Andes... hmmm appetite's whet.

The cold beer and parking spot









Looking back across the canyon

































Cerro San Francisco

















Some high altitude blooms
















Pretty little things...
















Up close... ah lunch spot.

Hope you have a magic week that takes you places you might get a flat

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...