All Porteños Are Vampires

..........ths city is an insomniac. Constantly going, rarely relenting in its pace whether it be in afternoon heat or the pits of the night. Its inhabitants glide through life, past work and into parilladas and bars for after hours drinks which moreover than not stretch long into the night, and then they rest sparingly, until they rise early and do it all again. This lifestyle could kill me in this month if I had to work, but thankfully I can go to bed while others are going to work and rise when they return, this is when my day begins now. Around four in the afternoon. Which brings me to the conclusion all porteños are vampires...
Bad idea #12098476 , Archery in a bar. I´ve seen it next to pool tables were incidently I whooped the arse off a southsider. (Doesen´t sound right does it?)
.........I hate shopping at home. I despise it here. You wander innocently into a shop and some stylishly dressed sort with complicated hair saunters over and tries to sell you all sorts of crap. When you refuse an atitude kicks in. It is because of this I smell of mothballs and look like a faded photo from the 70s without seeming cool.
........a stoopid Quebecquer turned off my water. Damn him. I went the whole day without showering and it got hot. 28degrees, muggy 80% and I stank. He is gone home now. So all is good........
.........Sahara is the type of club I would normally run a marathon to avoid, but while being a lone traveller you tend to go with the crowd, no matter how bad a place may seem. In fairness to Sahara it did look more welcoming than the previous bar we had been in in San Telmo. It smelled of the finest beef infused urine and it was karaoke night. Sahara was the opposite, clean and full of blonde local women. (They do like to dye it blond here, even though it leaves hideous roots(I know, fruity) for these brunettes). There was a performance of a kind going on and all seemed well. We sat digesting our steaks and wine innocently when a man with a microphone approached and asked were we hailed from. Ireland, Oz, Columbia and Quebec came the reply. The next thing I remember I´m on the dancefloor with eyes staring at us. This is were I blank out.............We left soon after,...........,.,.,.,.it was 5am.........-ñ,-.,,m----------......vampires time to head home.
Adios, ciao y slan.
I´m off to eat more cow and drink some of that fine wine. And sleep a touch.

mmmmmmmm Beef

....after an epic journey through Gaucho country by train, car and expensive bus I arrived in the not too unpleasant town of Salta. And as a benefit country No. 10 Argentina. This place is the most European of the lot and a welcome respite from dodgy buses and rotten roads. And then there is the steak.........
Old Jack ; Es por dos personas
Rich , Don´t mess with me old Jack. I want the whole cow.
This is how my first night in Argentina went, in bullet point form :

• Went to Viejo Jacks to get some famous Argentine Steak
• On reading the menu realised the wine was ridiculously cheap
• Steak was also cheap, and weighed roughly half of me
• Wine was so good, drank roughly 15 bottles between 8
• Left old Jack to the carcass of roughly two cows.
• Went in search of Saltas nightlife.
• Found bar, drank cocktails
• Found taxi, who found nightclub
• Club was empty at 3am
• At 4am club filled up. More cocktails.
• Walking in the darkness I tripped down a step ruining my cool strut and sprained my ankle.
• Escorted to hostel to get strap on leg.
• At 6am the rest return and regale me with a tale of drunken brawling, initiated by the two young lads from Brisbane. No surprise there. (Seriously, anyone familiar with Fortitude Valley in Brisbane on a Saturday night can testify to this.

..........5 am sucks. It just does. Getting up at this time is hard and stupid. But I had an important flight to catch to Buenos Aires. 5 hours later I sat across from my landlady. A beautifully classy mature lady, who has an Irish mother. "Verde Erin." She explained to me in Castellano the different facilities and went on her way. (Castellano, Argentine Spanish is the hardest to understand I have encountered. Slangtastic.)

.......I took a stroll up to old Palermo. The barrios atmosphere dripped from the buildings. People lazing away in cafes and sipping mate. The early spring sunshine resting lazily on skin and parkland. The old buildings cracked from weather, appearing from some historical romance. The striking stride of the locals as they literally strut about their days. This place is relaxation for me. Away from the hustle of the centre. In Recoleta, where you don´t have to do anything, anytime soon........

.......Then I met Ultan. Please Ultan leave a comment on where I went that night. I woke up tasting of beer and hearing ringing in my ears. Lo siento Jani. Mi amigo es stupido.

Today I eat more steak.

Shivering in A Dali Wonderland

....Uyuni, a stinking desert town full of dust and a cutting wind that makes your timbers shiver. There is no reason imaginable to visit this place unless you have relatives there. It is the surrounding area that people come for. Salar De Uyuni or the Salt Flats. A truly remarkable natural occurence at 3800metres. As the jeep pulled out from the dusty centre of Uyuni we headed firstly towards a Train graveyard. A showdown was had on top of rusting wrecks and dilapidated carrages, hopefully photos will follow. Then came the Salt Flats themselves. They are pretty strange. Hexagonal shapes etch out in the salt to the horizon. It is cold enough to feel like snow and look too. A caravan of jeeps paraded through the flasts to IncaHuasi.(Isla Del Pescaderos) This is an amazing sight. An island in the salt with huge cacti striking up menacingly. I climbed to the peak to be met with a stunning view. Salt everywhere but for this island..f+cking nuts..........
Driver .- Un momento.
ME- I dont think they have sorted out accomodation.
Driver- Vamos.
A dark forbodding came over me. A door to a shed swung open as an icy gale blew through a plastic sheet roof and holes in the windows. Seven concrete beds lay before us with u shaped mattresses.
Driver- Sin electricidad y duche.
Me- So we will be cold , dirty and smelly. But on the plus side we won{t be able to see each other.
..........What the fuck? They are mad looking. All thats missing is a dripping clock man. This place is fucked up. Its like Mars over there and the moon over there. Look at the mountain top. Its got 6 colours. Fucking nuts....my reaction to the Dali rocks.
........A little tip to all. When visiting geysers in a lunar landscape never no matter how cold you get, go into the steam of the geysers without an oxygen mask. The sulphur and methane is overwhelming and a great way to get sick. This place was the coldest I have ever been.......
...Lagoona Verde marked the goodbyes between Rich, lisa, Sabine and me. But what a crazy place. The jeep struggled up a hill around what looked like a white lake. I thought it was impressive full of icy goodness and nothing much else. Upon reaching the crest of the hill a sight caught my eye . A green lake. Not slightly green, green. Nestled beneath a perfect cone mountain with ice cap. I thought this was nuts. After the guys went to Chile I headed back with the driver for what I thought was a tortuous trip back to Uyuni. Then we stopped at Lagoona Colorado. This lake was completely pink. Not kind of pink, pink. It was like watched a big pool of strawberry milkshake. Nuts. Flamingoes and all.....
There was more to this three day trip. But the best way to see how nuts it is, is to go there. Bizarre.
...A question, Why are flamingoes associated with hot climates? The ones I saw live at -25 degrees in the winter.

Dinosaurs, Divils and a Friendly Clown

.......Sucre is surrounded by brown Andean peaks forced over the millenia to contort by massive faultlines in the earths crust. And this is how over 5000 dinosuar tracks have been discovered there. They seem to walk up a cliff face to nowhere in particular. Some are as big as cars. My guide explained everything. Then we turned our attention to huge real size models of the dinosaurs. Everything from the specific era. Then he noted some flaws. One, we do not know what colour the dinosaurs were really. Two, Not sure what they ate and three, the huge models of the TREX are only there because he is the most famous dino of the lot. A bit pointless really.......
...Sucre has burst into civil disobedience since I left. The day I arrived in Potosi students had strapped themselves to public buildings and it deteriorated into rioting. This has spread to the congress in La Paz where open fist fights are taking place. It sure is interesting being in an unstable region.......
.....Moro, the Argentine clown approached me as I sat on a bench in Sucre. He seemed very Friendly and gave me some sweets.........
.....This morning I met with the devil. An interesting fellow who occupies a dark mine in the Cerro Rico mountain which towers over Potosi. I found him to be quite an interesting fellow. His believers who you must bribe with cigarettes, coco leaves, dynamite and 96% alcohol(all for the low price of 2 yo´s´[thats for a stick of dynamite people]) grunted at me as I passed in my blue jump suit and wellies. These miners believe in him because they think God cannot penetrate the mountain so they feel the need to appease the devil or TIO as they call him. It means uncle. So they offer him coco, smokes, alcohol and sit with him. I found it pleasant enough, the sulphur and altitude did not affect my breathing, the small crawl spaces not too demanding. Although his giant manhood hanging out of his frock did cause me some concern..............
Alright.

Further Tales of the Jungle

....when the chiefs daughter came home one day with the worlds worries on her shoulders the chief began to stress. He questioned his daughter on why she was so miserable. The response was not one he was happy with. His young daughter was pregnant. The chief understandably was a bit annoyed at this and demanded the fathers head. But his daughter insisted it was a debonnair dolphin that did it. She was sitting beside the river and a pink dolphin approached talking in Barry White tones and transforming from his pink shade into a dazzling white suit. He then seduced the poor wench and impregnated her....And so began the Pampas legend of the fertile dolphin upon whom all unwanted pregnancies are blamed............
........the bouncy twin engined pride of Amaszonias Air carried me towards La Paz. Away from the luscious green jungle and heat back to the pollution of the big city. I was joined on board by a particularly irritating American Family who moaned about every aspect of the trip. I tried blocking them out with different techniques but none worked. Then the miracle of turbulence happened. Flying over the Andes is like riding a rollercoaster. My stomach leapt high and sunk low. A slight quesiness swept over me. But an interesting sound came from behind me. I turned. Every one in the American family was throwing up into there sickbags. A bit of justice in a world gone mad........
......been in La Paz for 3 days. Nothing to do here except leave, tonight.
......To all caught in the Peru earthquake, hope you are all fine.

Idda Jungle, idda idda jungle

.......a small twin engine plane carried me through not over the Andes to Rurrenabeque. It was a bumpy ride in a small aircraft designed for not more than 20 people. The landing consisted of skirting the jungle canopy to land on a dirt runway. I was away from the oxygen deprived La Paz and into the lucious green heat of the jungle, fully equiped with proper air, stuff I could breathe without panting. And then the adventure began.......
,.........A short discussion with a random Australian informed me of an unexpected presence on the trip. A young lady in my tour group was in fact a celebrity from the land down under. A childrens writer and the host of Big Brother. Luckily I used my experience of celebrity handling and put into practice what I normally do. I completely ignored the fact. She turned out to be very pleasant. And after making all the groups acquaintance I clamboured aboard a canoe and set about mosquito infested waters. In short my experience of the Pampas was amazing. Wildlife everywhere. Capybarras, giant rodents, dolphins, alligators, monkeys which are surprisingly lighter than pigeons and the scary anaconda. I held one in disdain in the swamp and poked him with a stick. He wasnt so tough. The hostel resembled Marlon Brandos hideout in Apocalypse Now. A bar in the jungle hours from civilisation. Surrounded by alligators and monkeys. 40 people stayed there, sweating and dusty, yet there was only one shower. With LOW PRESSURE. Shocking but expected............Then the sun went down........and a snorer kept me awake.......for 2 nights...........in the jungle................until I got back to Rurre and did.........................this...
...Cocktails lots of them. They were pleasant and then I met interesting person#256 of the trip, Arthur. A lunatic from Belfast hell bent on chewing coco leaves from dusk till dawn. And he did. And he shared. And they were good for about 3 minutes then I was just drunk again. But able to drink all night, until the sun came up.
A Profile of Arthur .
Read the SAS survival guidebook.
Constantly chewed coco leaves and took valium because he couldn't sleep at night.
Tried acclimatising by wearing a fleece, thermal socks and heavy trousers in 30 degree heat. I noticed the locals did not need to.
Sweated profusely while drinking and rambled endlessly.
A nice guy.

BACK In LAPAZ.
Congrats Dan and Sonia.

The La Paz Belly

......most streets here are at a 45 degree angle or more, so either going up or down you face a bit of a struggle. It is not helped by markets decorating absolutely every footpath in the city. And the things they sell are unusual. Dried out llama foetus in the Witches market or toilet pots and fake designer label jeans(which I am now a proud owner of, because there was a big hole in my crotch). La Paz is cool for picking up all the tacky stuff you can imagine whilst dodging the local buses with drivers who don`t really care if you are blocking the way or not. But for all its madness La paz is poor. Real Poor. People scavenge through rubbish as if it were a feast, and seeing children huddled in doorways is always a killer....................................
......The La Paz Belly is something of an inconvenient truth that many people who come here must endure. It is not just the domain of people who eat in street kitchens and of travellers. Everyone here gets it. It obviously involves diarrhoea, but also vomitting and in my case a fainting episode in a local restaurant. This bug works its merry way through your system for on average 48 hours before dispersing into an interesting nothingness. This is why I failed to do the Worlds Most Dangerous Road cycle. And the fact that I could not stomach not getting a refund for this trip........
.....San Pedro Prison is too hard to get into and write about. I would need to bribe a prison officer, pretend to be visiting a dangerous prisoner and dress like the prisoners so as not to attract attention. Sorry John.
.....CocaCola buys all the Coca.