A Pirate's Trail

I'm Bringin' SexyBack

2006-08-11T17:28:00.000-07:00

To view, click screen, ok, wait, click screen. Repeat if necessary.

Four Black Keys, Glasgone, Scotland

2006-08-03T02:27:00.000-07:00

(ed: I found this draft yesterday. It was dated Thursday, May 25, 2006 3:32:49 AM)

God damn, sometimes things are so right. Sometimes nights just gel and whatever happens, happens with a flow, a vibe, that resonates and people feel it. They laugh - they understand. Tonight we took photos. Many many photos. And something about that just made it so right. Bonus? Collateral - something that we’ll share.

I’m dj’ing lying in bed, Oli and Liam are discussing pics on the powerbook, and Nikki, our Glaswegian, is just straight up chillin’ in the bunk atop mine. The song is Black Keys – Midnight in her Eyes.

"You never thought about goin’ wrong
Now you wonder where your man has gone"

(ed: To listen, follow the Black Keys link, enter the site, then pick out number five on the tape player. While you're there, check out number 4, too. That was surely what I put on to start writing.)

spain in sepia tone

2006-07-29T09:45:00.001-07:00

This is the Lone Ranger
If you're one of the fortunate to click to this
A Case Called Quest, The Love Movement weblog
You are privileged to witness the first in a series of attempts
To attend to it's inattentiveness
Again, this is the Lone Ranger with his first installment
Spain in Sepia Tone
Listen

way back in may, four hooligans took part in a number of late-night, pie-eyed photo shoots in scotland. after viewing the shocking artifacts - Mmmmm... I look good. I mean really good. Hey everyone... come and see how good I look! - i got into a wide-screen sepia tone kick. to see what i'm talking about, check out: oli gardner's photo blog. (once i find some hosting space on the ole interweb, i'll set up my photos like that, too.)

and i suppose in some ways, that this is also a companion piece to liam's notes from spain, except with pictures.

Cadiz

while i was somewhere on the autobahn on a completely different adventure, liam woke up one day in leeds 'feeling random' and decided to fly to barcelona. after a couple weeks, i flew in to meet up with the man who, at the time, was in a little town called cadiz on the southern tip of spain. he had heard about a hostel where he could live free if he put in a few hours of work each day (or get someone else to do it for him), where you spent lazy days in hammocks on the roof, lazy afternoons watching football in the plaza, and lazy evenings drinking beers on the beach. and he was right. the pictures i have of here are portraits of our crew there. i love these cats.

here's our cuddly co-hero, riding a wave of adrenaline fed by a return trip out to the 'red hat', a buoy way out in the bay that we'd swim to and try out best to climb upon.

and this is liam, too. liam 2? whatever you call him, this is a kiwi brudda that can keep the conversation movin' (hence the agua). we met up again later in barcelona, where we spent a few great nights listening to great indie music at his favourite pub, the manchester.

tiny, our french canadienne, refusing to sleep until the sun had risen on la Saint-Jean.

ashish: tall, dark and handsome. at home in his thrown.

and me rockin' a teen 'stache.

Madrid

Madrid was a bit of a blur. We were cooler than cool in cadiz. (what's cooler than cool? ice cold!) Liam's got a flight that supposedly leaves from Rome to Singapore in early July. He's informed that he's got to go to the airline office in Madrid in order to change the date. No problem - we'll take a few days and go to Madrid... First day we get there, Spain plays France and we get to rave with thousands and thousands in the main plaza there. Clearly they lost so the night didn't turn out as we'd hoped, though riot police did show up, so it was nonetheless interesting. (Maybe I'll write a separate post for that one... the photos are colour.)

Day 2, I walk through art galleries and eat gazpacho while Liam goes to Singapore Airlines. Next thing I know, Liam's gone! Turns out that even though he is technically able to change the dates of his ticket, there wasn't availability until September! And seeing as how he was pretty much sick of European costs and crowding, he doesn't even flinch, he's off to Asia. He's got about a week to get back to Cadiz and then to Rome. Just like that - my partner in crime poofs into thin air.

Suffice it to say, our last night got a little emotional...

Barcelona

i am in love with this city. it is incredible. great food, people, style, beaches, bars, clubs, architecture, climate. it's got it all. people here are so cool. (you'd have to be to deal with sooo many [of us] tourists.) i came here twice. once right after liam left and then again after i went to the canary islands. i explored as many twists and turns as i could. here are some images i like.

Maspalomas, Gran Canaria

The last post I wrote came from the Canary Islands, a very special part of Spain. I am so grateful to Uli, a friend I had met in Chile, and to his incredible roommates, who opened up their door and made me feel like one of the family. What an escape from the hostel-hell of the European summer.

Wikipedia describes the island as a mini-continent because it has so many micro-climates. Where I was staying in the north, it was cooler (mid-twenties day and night) and often overcast. In the east, it is mad windy (often 40-50 knots), hence a mecca for windsurfers. While in the south, it is always sunny and hot. This is the tourist trap, the biggest beach even sporting the name Playa del Ingles (Beach of the English). I went down to check it out one afternoon and was glad I did (though I have a feeling my affection would have worn out quickly). The reason, besides the chinese food, was the Dunes of Maspalomas. The picture below was my first attempt at using Photo-Stitch, a utility that comes with my camera that helps one create panoramas.

Colder in the winter
And hotter in the summer
Get on up

and tell my mother not to worry

2006-07-09T10:08:00.000-07:00

I feel I need to reach out and touch those that I love. [Hello. How are you? I am quiet] Alas, you are all sleeping. So, instead of calling, I will set my fingers to these keys and see what happens. I am on a couch, a broken couch, in the apartment of my new friends, great friends, in Las Palmas. That is on the island of Gran Canaria, a Canary Island, which is in Spain, but not really, because it's as south as Morocco, which is Africa. The weather here is perfect. It always is. I would guess that it’s about 28 degrees outside, and so it’s probably the same in here. There is a gentle breeze. There always is. Understand, I have been reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. And that is why I am writing in this way. I hear his voice in my head. So I will be Huck. And you can be my nigger. Or, if you are feeling like some mischief, Tom.

It has been so long since I posted something on this blasted blog spot. For that I am sorry. There have been so many adventures, and many a misadventure too. I have pictures. Some of them are even tasteful enough to show. Want to see one?

See? Isn’t that tasteful? Yes - this is what I’ve become.

I’m too old for this. If I hadn’t found this spot, I’d’ve sworn it was time to pack it in, head back to the comforts of home, give my moms a hug, then set up shop in the big smoke and earn an honest living. But no, not just yet. For I’ve found a new paradise, with friends for whom I would lay down in front of a train. And waves… por supuesto, las olas. Friday I learned how to stand up on a surfboard. Tomorrow I begin a week of kitesurfing classes.

What else? A song. Yes – mainly one. It is called ‘The Trapeze Swinger’ and it was written and performed by Iron and Wine - who is just a man - but a very beautiful one, I think. (On the inside.) It starts something like this: Please, remember me, happily, by the rosebush laughing with, bruises on my chin, the time when, we counted every black car passing. And there’s an acoustic guitar and ‘oohs’ in the background. When I listen to it, my focus retreats, and no longer do I see myself separate from the world, but as a part of it. You know? I hope you do. And I smile (that knowing one which some say resembles a snear.) You know? I miss you too.

It was a Trojan horse, this song. It managed to sneak it’s way onto my ThinkPad along with Ghostface Killah’s new album ‘Fishscale’. And you know that’s true, because I couldn’t have made it up if I sat and stared at this screen for days. (Curiously, a song from Fishscale had been the theme song of my life about a month ago.) Anyway, from there, the Trapeze Swinger hitched a ride onto my Nomad, which is an mp3 player, and plays the soundtrack of my life as I walk through galleries and sit on trains and as it so happens, walk through the streets of Barcelona to the Sagrada Familia. I had just had lunch, and was very content and well-fed, and decided to listen to something mellow. It was then that I first noticed this single Iron and Wine song and, not knowing where it came from, it began… And there went my focus. And there into the world I fell….

Please, remember me, fondly, I heard from someone you’re still pretty, and then, they went on to say, that the pearly gates, has some eloquent graffiti, like, we’ll meet again, and fuck the man, and tell my mother not to worry

Brag

2006-05-22T01:59:00.000-07:00

Met a billiards team on the train to Scotland yesterday that taught me a new game, Brag. Bizarre betting style where there really isn't a 'round' so that whenever someone raises, those following must contribute that much (or more) money to the pot to stay in, regardless of their previous bets.

Today, the three amigos - Liam, Oli and yours truly - reunite to rock the nation.

Jules Verne's Rocket Lands in London!

2006-05-04T05:29:00.000-07:00

what next?

halifaction

2006-04-29T15:01:00.000-07:00

I'm just killing time at the Maple Leaf Lounge at the Halifax Airport and decided to write a quick note. Nothing insightful as I don't have many braincells left - just what we've been up to lately. Liam and I showed up about 4 hours early because the food, drinks and internet are all free - and we get to watch planes take off! He's off having a smoke.

The open jaw through Halifax was a great idea. We've been here for three nights and each has been a blast. On the first, Wednesday, Liam's cousin's wife Carina picked us up from the airport, took us downtown for dinner and a few drinks, then over to her home away from home, the Let It Ride table in the High Roller's Room of Casino Nova Scotia. Drinks came free, and we all broke even, so we were nothing but smiles.

The next day we were treated to an incredible breakfast at a joint called Cora's. I had a skillet and a bunch of fruit. We checked into the hostel downtown and out we went on a bit of a crawl, hitting six different spots, the best of which being a dance lounge on its reggae night. In Nova Scotia, there are 3 types of liquor license, each running different hours. When the lounge closed at 2, we found an Ale House with a country-rock band and kept on partying. No idea what time we got home.

I did somehow manage to get up in the morning and go for a run! For me, it's a fun way to check out a city - good pace. I ran the harbour. Then bought groceries and cooked up a feast. In the afternoon, we met up with our roommate from Switzerland, and headed out to the Commons park for some frisbee. We all agreed that bocce should be involved too so we found a Canadian Tire and dropped 14 bucks. Our game took us across 4 city blocks, a skate park and up most of citadel hill. Had so much fun, we agreed it best to take the balls with. We checked the set as a bag at the airport! The lady there was so impressed, she's off to buy her own to strap to the back of her motorbike.

Last night, we tried a bit of an experiment. Through MySpace, I met a girl and she invited us to a house party. (Really, the way to get to know the locals.) It was a success. Everyone got along and fun was had by all. After the party, we found a live band who numbered somewhere in the teens, then when that closed, another that played the eagles upstairs and bad hiphop down. (shrug) Late night street food, family guy, passed out on the hostel's couches... Halifaction!

Save a seal, club a beatle

2006-04-12T11:58:00.000-07:00

The talk of the rock is the seal hunt.

The annual culling of 325 000 harp seals (about 1/20th of the estimated population) began a few weeks ago in the gulf of St Lawrence off Quebec and the bulk of it is about to begin here on "The Front". The former is already complete, while the latter should only take about 3 days. Even for Pete Tong, that's a whole lotta clubbing. Here's some back on the envelope math for the "hunt on the front": 300 000 seals / 4000 hunters / 3 days = 25 seals per culler per day.

Brings to mind one of my favourite Simpsons episodes: Whacking Day. And while we're on the subject of whacking pests, we could take a note from Australia's Federal MP Dave Tollner "I suggested that people should hit them with golf clubs or cricket bats or, you know, lumps of wood - whatever was at hand. " Of course, no discussion of pop references to whacking could be complete without my favourite high school flashback, "Dazed and Confused".

But I digress, with all the hub bub about the seal club, I'm curious as to what it's really all about. To be honest, I haven't made up my mind on the issue just yet but I have tried my best to get all the information I could.

Those Against. I imagine that most people saw, or at least heard about, Pamela Anderson's quips at the Junos. The biggest activist group calling out for an end to the hunt is the Humane Society of the US. Rebecca Aldworth grew up here and has been working with them for some time. Check this out. A few things of note here are that (a) fisherman do in fact club baby seals. The Canadian Government only protects 'whitecoats,' the really cute ones. But this coat changes to the adult one in only 12 days. 95% of those killed are under three months old. (b) HSUS have taken direct aim at the Canada and its fisheries by advocating Boycotting Canadian Seafood.

Oh yeah, Paul McCartney is on board too.

The video clip here quotes him.

Those For. Here on the streets, most have some sort of rationale for the hunt, albeit often padded by small print, (e.g. the belief in or desire for constraints such as requiring the entire animal to be used, not just the pelts). A quick survey shows that many Newfoundlanders won't eat seal. Haven't been able to confirm whether anyone else in the world does, but the against folk say that only a few thousand flippers are consumed locally. And though Liam and I had an interesting dish of flipper, pork and onions, I don't think I'll be starting up an export business any time soon.

Other arguments for the culling of the seals fall into categories such as: tradition, protection of cod stocks and economics. One thing's for sure. The political issue in Ottawa is larger than the economic one. As for the latter, the primary demand of the seals is for the use of the pelts as fashion. And most of the exports go to Norway. Under the Marine Mammal Protection Act, none get imported to the US. In the 90s, pelts were selling as low as $13 but in recent years have gone for closer to $70. Fashion always was so fickle.

Estimates of the annual value is around $16 Million CAD. Not exactly chump change but only a few percent of the fisheries here.

Another use of the seal is its oil, as an Omega-3 Fatty Acid source, which you can once again buy at Costco. At the bottom of that article it shows that there is demand for seal elsewhere: "The Barry Group of Companies, which produces the capsules, refines 900 tonnes of seal oil each year, mostly for markets in Asia." I wonder if that means that there are seal hunts in Asia, too...

As for tradition, I took a few shots of a plaque at the top of Signal Hill yesterday (See most recent post for less controversial photos.)

Still lots more to find out but I hope that this gets people talking and looking for more information. I'd love to hear what you have to say so please comment. I promise not to censor anything. What I still haven't found out yet, and until which I reserve any judgement whatsoever, is what the fishermen themselves have to say.

a nice day for a walk

2006-04-12T10:31:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was the first real day of Spring here in St John's Newfoundland so we decided to take advantage of it. We ate a big breakfast, packed up some supplies, and headed outside to conquer the highest mountain we could find, Signal Hill.

First picture of the day. Liam's inside getting coffees. I think it speaks for itself. It fails, however, to mention the countless hours that I will go through in order to provide convenience. Case in point, in the past week I have probably spent 8 hours trying to find a convenient process to format my photos for the web, upload them to a photo site, then reference them from this blog. If anyone's got a free site offering batch uploads, please let me know.

From Uncle Jimmy's place, we headed downtown to Duckworth Street, then around the Harbour and on towards the Narrows that shelter the harbour from the Sea. It's been 500 years since Cabot spotted this rock, and some 400 years that Europeans have been fishing these waters so there's bound to be something old to take pictures of.

The acoustics here were great.

Up on top, Liam sprung the buck to look through the telescope. I got a laugh imagining liam toppling from a shot from this super mario koopa cannon.

Here's what the view looked like. You get what you pay for, I suppose.

And here's the rest, conveniently placed inside a widget called a BucketStamp, something I found while fiddling about with Photobucket.

pics from the midwest

2006-04-05T11:47:00.000-07:00

Well hello there
My, it's been a long, long time
And how am I doing?
Well, I guess that I'm doing fine
It's been so long now, but it seems like,
it was only yesterday
Gee, ain't it funny, how time slips away.

dorothy moore

lately i've been much more interested in reading than writing. but i do have a few photos to share. these are from the end of the mountain trip. this took way longer than i can justify so the rest will have to come later.

i met dane in a hottub in portillo chile. (where else?) we spoke about starting a beauty school. (what else?) dane has a beautiful wife, holly and a terror of a three-year-old, tate. (who else?)

For better or for worse, Dane Christensen has unwittingly become my canonical mormon. And you know what? I couldn't have done any better with Brigham himself! This is us in the heart of Park City, boppin our heads to Spearhead and the Special Sauce. [Free gear included: Toques]

I met Joe Ballstaedt playing indoor football at Portillo. This boy's quick on his feet. Joe done hooked us up with tickets into an invite-only beastie boys show in the Caf. [Free drinks included: wifebeaters and vcrs]

Even though we were spitting distance from MCA, if you turned around, as shown in this picture, there was a wall right behind us. There wasn't much worse you could do. It was a strange venue, the ski resorts cafeteria... either you were right there or you were sitting in chili. (npi)

This fella was hitching on the street on my way to Big Mountain Montana at about 7am. Damn cold. After cracking a high can, dude asked me over and over "Where you from... Canada... Oh yeah, ever been to Cranbrook.. Sure, two of my best friends live there... Oh yeah? My brother lives there.... Where you from?"

sun snow and powder stashes

2006-01-27T17:16:00.000-08:00

Day 2: Sun Valley

Boise - Motel6 - Room 216 - The phone is ringing. I'm awake. On the horn, "Con-GRATCH-ulations! You have just won....", damn, it's effin Rod Roddy on the other end, "... a WAKE UP CALL!!" Tell me he didn't? Uh-huuh, he did. My eyes are shot, the red eyes of the clock read 6:30AM and it ain't gonna happen. Sun Valley is 3 hours away.

Snooze... 7:30AM. It's still dark. I can do it. Here I go.

All good. SunValley was a treat. Perfect champagne powder, detachable quads everywhere, tonnes of terrain... Groomers here are amazing. The whole mountain is steep. The greens would be called blue at home, the blues black, and so on. And offpiste? Well, the mountain was about 90% skiers, most of which hung out at the lodge, and the average age must have been 40 (yes, for every ten year old, there was that geezer of seventy), so though it hadn't snowed in 3 days, in between the trees was untouched!

A good day, indeed.

A view of the green night skiing area (maybe 1/7th of the mountain)

That BBoy stance

Next time: How to look like a celebrity and score chicks at sundance. ;)

on the road again

2006-01-21T13:27:00.000-08:00

About this time last year, I got the grand idea of buying an all-wheel drive and taking a week off work to drive through the Canadian Rocky Mountains, pinballing from ski resort to ski resort, and partying with friends and colleagues. So that's just what I did. And though the snow was nothing to write home about, it was a great trip. Later, while snowboarding in Chile, I met some very cool cats from Utah and Colorado who extended an invitation to come visit them and their respective mountains. So why not make the Rocky Mountain adventure a tradition?

So, without further ado, let me introduce to you...

Rocky Mountain Tour Part II: The US of A...

On the road again
Goin' places that I've never been
Seein' things that I may never see again,
And I can't wait to get on the road again.

The words of Willie have never sounded so apt, so along with singing them aloud when my batteries ran out of my mp3 player on the way down, i just had to quote them here. And I got thinking about this country legend, looked up the lyrics, and discovered that not only was he not dead, but that he also is an advocate of road trips. Well, sort of. Check it out for yourself: Bio-Willie.

Day 0: Great news

Before I was even on the road, the trip was in jeopardy of not happening at all. Over Christmas, my grandfather was attacked on a near nightly basis by angina. Scary enough, even scarier given grandpa is a bit stubborn... Eventually though (on Friday the 13th) they got him down to the Royal Jubilee hospital in Victoria to undergo bypass surgery. So, Mum, Dad, Lisa and I hopped on the ferry on the Sunday to visit and I stayed on with my Nana to lend support and love. I am happy to say that the surgery was a success and I wish him a fast and full recovery to the energetic, crabby and lovable guy that he is.

I love you, old man!

Day 1: White Rock, BC to Boise, ID

(Google has the better interactive map, but MapQuest has the better directions.)

Upon hearing the good news, I hopped on the last ferry back to Vancouver and started packing. By 11:00AM, the next day I was on my way. And I drove. Stopped for a great house-smoked bbq brisket sandwich at Gordy's before the Snoqualmie pass, then drove some more. And I just kept on driving. Got damn foggy in spots, especially in the big pass before La Grande in Oregon. Couldn't see more than 50 ft in front of me. Explains my red eye (no really, officer, it was the fog). So, I pull off into the town itself and think I see a strange void in the road. Then, not twenty feet ahead of me appears a fuck-off big deer standing in the oncoming lane. Not even a flinch as I go by. (Sorry, missed that pic.)

And I drove.

Into Boise. I went downtown, found a bar and found two pairs of PBR's (that's Pabst Blue Ribbons, aka buck beers, for those that don't know). Nice place. Very clean little capital city. Nice people. Ba-da-boom.

Boise at night

Check out Thursdays' special!

1 province, 3 states, 1 border, 1 deer, 4 beers. Finally, I hit the Motel6 (where the beastie boys'll tell you "It's 5 bucks extra, get the porno flicks")

the best game you can name

2006-01-06T13:23:00.000-08:00

Oh the good ole hockey game is the best game you can name
And the best game you can name is the good ole hockey game

3rd period: last game in the playoffs, too...
Oh take me where the hockey players face off down the rink-
And the Juniors Cup is all filled up for the chaps who win the drink-
Now the final flick of the hockey stick and a one gigantic scream-
The puck is in! The home team wins! The good ole hockey game!

We came, we saw, we survived

2005-12-21T07:44:00.000-08:00

After exactly three months, we have reached the end of our South American adventure. Quite an experience. So many people, places and wonders. Though surprisingly, it went much as I suspected it would.

To me, the backpacker´s life is a lonely existence, surrounded by near-strangers, following your whim to places that you pass only briefly. This whole time, I have only felt "plugged in" a small number of times. Many of these were at or with friends that I had met at Portillo ski resort on our first week. (I will definitely return.) Now, this is not to say that the people we met weren´t top notch. Some I hope I am friends with for many years to come. And I love South America. Chile was beautiful, so familiar to British Columbia that its differences were spectacular to
me. Argentina and its people are sexy and strong and able to laugh at themselves. Brazil and its, hot, alive and wide open. But this life just doesn´t challenge me enough.

I am very happy I took this time off. As I am that I have learned this about myself. I had never taken more than a couple weeks to travel before. My whole life, I have worked incredibly hard and loved it, first at school and then in the market. But I have liked everything I have done. I wasn´t sure finance was really the best place for me. Now I do. I want the stimulation of a focussed team again. I want to master my field of study. And I want money. (Who knew? I never did.)

I also learned that it is my nature to fall deeply in love. And you know what? That´s precisely where I want to be. But no rush. When the timing is right, I know that the right girl will appear.

What next? Home. To family and friends and the familiar.

And then? It depends.

I could happily go back to work after my birthday (Feb 9) if the right opportunity came my way. If not, I may look up a few more of my Portillo friends and ride Colorado and Utah (Sundance festival!). Maybe go on to Vegas for Patrick´s 30th, to San Francisco to visit some old friends, maybe SXSW in Austin.

And then Liam returns from his own South American adventure at the end of March. Though he´s tacking the top half of it, I would love to catch up with him, compare notes, and maybe tag along to eastern Canada and beyond.

Come August, it will have been the year that I had originally planned to take off. By then, I will certainly be itching to get back to the market. Though the prospect already excites me, I find myself now, for the first time since I have been off, without a partner in crime. And the prospect of exploring solo is enticing, too...

Thanks to everyone whose tagged along with me through this travel log. Thanks for the emails and the comments, and for the love. It is appreciated. And for those who haven´t, all you´ve got to do is press that link right there where it says "0 Comments".

All the best for the holidays and beyond,
Case

The Man, The Legend, The Myth!

2005-12-21T07:34:00.000-08:00

This is he: Dani Blau Blau.

Paulista, samba legend, soccer striker extraordinare, father, businessman and damn good friend. Love you, man!

We first met Dani on the indoor soccer pitch at Portillo. (Where else?) He ran the show: keeping everyone laughing and competitive, making some deadly headers and making sure everyone had such a great time that they´d be back at the same time before dinner the next night.

Dani and his beautiful (and shy) family sat beside us in the dining hall. Besides myself, Dani was also the only one to score a perfect 100% at the karaoke. He did his best ole blue eyes singing "I did it my way" and I did my mums proud singing Rod´s "Do you think I´m sexy?". Dane, sadly, just didn´t have enough love for America´s "A horse with no name". What did you score, dude?! ;)

The first time we came to Sao Paulo, Dani took us out to Vila Madalena to his friend´s hot new open air restobar for beers and damn fine mini burgers! That alone earned him a place in my heart but when we came back, little did we know what surprises were in store for us.

Good friends

Good food

Saturday

We went out with him and his wife, Chris on Sunday. But before I describe that, let me talk about Saturday. Coming back from the Pantanal, I rediscovered in my wallet a flyer for the "Indie Hip Hop" (pronounced hippee-hop) festival. This was a free concert headlined by one of Los Angeles' foremost, the JURASSIC FIVE. Oddly, on the same day, a second hiphop festival (tranlating to the four elements of hiphop) was taking place out near the bus terminal. So we went and checked out some graffiti, some rapping, some breakdancing, some scratching, and more breakdancing. But no J5 (as one paper had claimed). So we asked around and found out that there was a train that took you an hour out of centro to another city within the city, Santo André. Now, not a single person we´ve met outside of Santo André here has ever been there. So this was adventure. After the train we hopped a cab, whose driver pointed in every direction and just kept saying "Perigoso" (Dangerous). Then we arrived at a modern and beautiful community center, SESC packed with cool kids. It looked no different than any show in North America. Inside, there were about 1500 kids and here´s the interesting part. Not a single police officer or security guard was to be found! I told a guy that this would never happen in NA and he shrugged with the reply that NA was very dangerous. We drank beers, checked out the best in São Paulo´s scene and danced and shouted out to J5. It was wicked. Also managed to meet some great peeps that gave us a ride back to São Paulo (that was an adventure on its own too). Big props to SP and to Pat Chui for Saturday.

Sunday

It so happens that Chris´ brother is a percussionist for São Paulo´s IN band, "Inimigos de HP", or enemies of hewlett packard. Composed of 14 or so ex-engineers who gave up the cubicle for the samba, they play to a packed crowd or twenty-somethings every sunday for 18 dollars a head (well, 12 for women). We got the treatment, no lineups, met the band backstage and partied with SP´s most beautiful.

Now, on the way there, when he told us, I didn´t believe him. There we were dancing center stage when who appears in front of our faces but the man, the legend, the myth. He took the mic and rocked out 3 sambas! The girls went crazy, singing along to every line. Mind blowing!

Monday

Every Monday, Dani, his brothers and his friends since childhood all get together to play futbol. It turns out that they also bring along a small guitar, a tambourine and a few drums and sing samba all night. All the while, Alimal barbeques up the juiciest and most tender meat in Brazil, cuts it into bite size pieces and passes them around on a silver tray. Plus shots of Cachaça are had, cold beers are shared and I finally learned how to play the Brazilian (and Argentinian) card game, Truco.

What a night. We played soccer in Brazil, Pat! Thank you, Dani Blau Blau. From the bottom of my heart. You are truly the man, the legend, the myth. Just as I am caaaasssseeeeeyyyyyyCLEEEEEMMMMMMEEEENNNNTTTTSSSSSS!!!

See you later, aligator!

The Pantanal

2005-12-17T08:41:00.000-08:00

...is a vast grass and wetlands in south central Brazil. It supposedly has a wildlife density up there with the Amazon. It is often called the poor man´s Amazon, actually. Unfortunately, many of this wildlife is bugs!

The experience was a bit of a struggle. It was very beautiful but each hike or horseride or jeep ride was about 25% too long. We were exhausted on return and are done with long journeys. We´re going to ride out the rest of the week in good ole São Paulo with our man Dan.

As I only have a couple minutes left on this strange pay-before-yo-go card, I am going to simply dump a bunch of linked thumbnails without describing each one. Maybe if I have time, I will add comments later. I apologize that lots of them aren´t rotated properly. Maybe I´ll fix that too. Maybe...

hav-u-anas?

2005-12-16T06:02:00.000-08:00

What´s your size?
What´s your favourite colour?

audie and i

2005-12-15T15:55:00.000-08:00

we had some great times,
and we tried.
but given the circumstances,
the tone was too serious,
and we just weren´t ready.
so we´re having a go at being friends.

i love you, audie.

I HEART SP

2005-12-10T05:04:00.000-08:00

We are currently in São Paulo, Brazil.

We had heard nothing good about the town before we came, the lonely planet in particular pans it, but each one of our group has had the same feeling: great town. it is like the new york of south america. the bus station is modern and efficient with a metro station inside that makes connection to the city simple and cheap. on our first night, we went out for rodizio, which consists of men walking around offering meat on swords. and a salad bar. this is the traditional meal here. afterwards we headed out towards the university to Vila Madalena, the nightlife district. We arrived at our chosen destination just as the last few bars were played by the band (didn´t finish dinner til after midnight). But we were pointed up the hill and we were in for a treat. A 12-piece samba-funk band complete with orange jumpsuits, trombone, trumpets, percussionist, and trading solos. It really brought me back to our jazz band in high school. Had a great time dancing and watching the crowd. But getting back to the headlamps. For an encore, with the lights still low, the band emerges from backstage marching one at a time wearing beating LED headlamps and beating drums. They progressed to the front of the bar, then back to the middle of the floor where the all sat down in a circle and were followed by much of the crowd. Then the horns busted in and they rocked out a while before heading back to stage for the final tune.

Yesterday, we went to the center of the financial district, Avenida Paulista to check out the big museum here, MASP. Wow. I was blown away. It seems the dude with the dough went on a huge spending spree in financial depressed post-war europe in the late fourties and bought up piles of art on the cheap. It started with 13-15th century art, that which came before all the prettiness of the following centuries. I hadn´t seen much of this before so it was a treat to find out that I really liked it. This was before artists used photographs so the figures express a lot of the artist´s impression. Have you ever seen Hieronymous Bosch? Check this out: http://www.ibiblio.org/wm/paint/auth/bosch/. They had two pieces of dark wonderful creatures and devilish men. Very cool.

They also had an entire room of Renoir, three of early 20th century french artists, plus some el greco, goya, turner, a rembrandt, and on and on. It was Tate quality. I also found out at the bookstore that much of the collection wasn´t on display (also a la Tate). Downstairs was a photography collection that I didn´t get to see because I had to catch up with Patrick and Carlos. I took my sweet time on that first floor, then found them in the basement checking out Anatol Wladyslaw, a polish born painter who lived his life in Sao Paulo. Prolific and diverse, clearly influenced by many of the French school and a religious sort. Then there was a biblical collection of 10ft square black and white paintings by another Paulista, whose name has escaped me (damn). This stuff was hot. Think Picasso´s Guernica (samesamebutdifferent).

Afterward, we walked up the street.

Culture everywhere (and Ovaltine milkshakes).

Looking for a bookstore (called what else, Livraria Cultura) when I randomly walked into a mall because the retail bank had a great art display going too. Then there was a choir inside and a bunch of sculptures beside, lo and behold, my bookstore. Should I say candy store? It was tough to escape with just one book. Friends in El Calafate told me that I had to read Fountainhead by Ayn Rand so I asked Audrey to bring it down, which she did. It is long. By the end of her trip, she had finished about a third of it, which she ripped off. I was hooked right away. But the bookstore would have had to ship it in so I picked up Atlas Shrugged instead. I´m excited to get on the next bus now. Which is tonight, to the Pantanal!

Don Quixote of the Malla

Last night, Patrick and I hit another YMCA for another free workout and sociological study of Sao Paulo. Three gymnasiums (serious women´s soccer), two dance rooms (ballet), a pool and the weight room. We got a nice tour and then got to work. There is nothing like pushing and pulling weights to make you feel like a million bucks. Afterward, we stopped at the Chopperia for a quick beer, then picked up some street yakisoba, patrick got to speak cantonese, and some fruit and condensed milk for Carlos´great Cap-Frutas. Then more live samba, then rock, then home to bed.

Today, modern art gallery and urban park.

Christmas is coming to São Paulo.

what goes up must come down

2005-12-09T08:24:00.000-08:00

We took an 18 hour overnighter to Iguazu Falls. The bus was SO much fun. Audrey and I sat in the back and drank ourselves silly, played cribbage and made up the words to bad movies dubbed in spanish. The falls are shared by Brazil and Argentina, and the Paraguayan border is not far off either. Argentina was amazing. You take a boat directly in to the falls and can walk all over them. The Brazilian side is farther from most of the falls, but provides a great overview. So, one our first of two days we went to the brazilian side, Foz. Here are the pics.

"So, uh, what´s the big deal?"

"Oh"

In the evening, we started properly: a few drinks, some pool and rocking out to CCR. This was followed by a good asado (bbq) and plenty of vino tinto. Then we went to the club. We drank too many capairinha´s, I think...

My Partner in Crime

And the other two stooges

If I wasn´t so damn hungover, I would have said this boat trip was in the top 5 highlights of the trip. Still, it was effin incredible.

Looks harmless, right?

Ended up soaked to the core. Thankfully, none of our electronics were damaged but we couldn´t exactly take pictures of the way in. Besides, my camera died after the following picture, which I will use to end this post.

Next time, I am going to go back in time as I missed Buzios, Argentina.

The three musketeers

2005-12-05T04:05:00.000-08:00

Audrey arrived in BA on the 18th. We toured around the city and the cemetary, went out to the suburbs to see the mad professor spinning the dub sounds, shopped for gifts, and all that, but mainly we just hung out.

Pat made breakfast

Refreshments after a long day of tombs and crafts

Barbie and Ken in Palermo Viejo

Footie at 40 degrees

Goners

Uruguay

2005-12-04T06:04:00.000-08:00

I can´t believe it has been almost a month since my last post. I´ve got a lot of catching up to do. Instead of skipping ahead to today, I am going to go back in time and post all the pictures and writing that I´ve done. Probably won´t be able to do it all today. Just so you know, I am now in Rio. Audrey has come and went and is now home safe. Patrick and I have met up with Andy and Carlos again (who you´ll see below in a picture in Montevideo) and plan to head to Isla Grande, a backpackers beach paradise tomorrow, where we´ll frolic in the sea for a week. Later, we´re going to the Pantanal, a great wetlands with the highest density of fauna on earth. Craziness like fishing for piranha and swimming with aligators are part of the standard tour. On December 21, we´re back on a plane from Sao Paulo, bound for the Great White. Though it is great here, I am really looking forward to seeing family and friends over the Christmas holidays. Miss you guys!

Colonia - November 14

I am sitting at the Sheraton on the shores of the River Plate separating Uruguay from Argentina. Charlie (aka Carlos), Andy and Catherine are sitting on a long wooden chaise to my left and to my right, over the pool and bamboo umbrellas, reeds cover the shore. It is hot, perhaps thirty and the beer has just arrived. One sec...

Ok. Sip of Pilsen, Uruguay´s brew (not bad) and two Viraximils for the pox. [CC: Oh, btw, I had a recurrence of Chicken Pox while in BA! What I first thought was a pimple behind my ear that wouldn´t pop, turned into two, then three. This was accompanied by pain on the surface of my neck and head in the ear area and stiffness. Bit of a scare... but I survived.]

Colonia really is the gem the guides say that it is. Brick everywhere, centuries old. The city doesn´t seem to have cared about "advancement". Andy said that BA removed much of the same cobbled streets and smaller classic buildings in the thirties, which must lend to the classic / art-deco side-by-side vibe of the latter city.

We rented scooters. I don´t really like them too much. Don´t like the single gear, don´t like turning with my knees together. Don´t like the fact that I dumped it trying to slide the back wheel in soft gravel. The front ferring got some nasty scratches. Think it´s going to cost me. Live and learn. [CC: Indeed, cost me 40 bucks]

Montevideo - November 14 and 15

The bus from Colonia to the capital was uneventful. We arrived around eleven in the evening at the bus terminal cum shopping mall. I got to check my email and some luvin´to Audie in Canada, who´s busy packing and prepping. Supposedly there were a few conferences in town so we ended up where? That´s right. (Whachu doin?) Nothing chillin at the Holiday Eeenn.

Shout out to Thomas Edelson, who´s holding shit tight back on the left coast.

The town itself looks like BA´s younger sister, which it is really. Same baroque shouldered up against art deco architecture hinting that the two cities have shared prosperous (and disastrous) times. It also implies that the money is the same.

Montevideo centers around an impressive tomb, that of their great war hero Artigas. In the center of the Plaza Independencia, the man who repelled both the Spanish and the Portugese sits in sculpted form atop a steed, and lies underground in ashes. The tomb itself is open to the public and is a powerful and moving and quiet room. In modern concrete letters, his victories surround a giant urn, flanked by 2 armed and decorated guards.

After checking eeenn, we walked up to a spot called Joe Peperone where, to our delight, we found some great food. I myself had the Canadian favourite, the Chivito Canadiense, a sandwich with chicken, ham, an egg, tomato, lettuce, mayo and olives. As I said, a delight. And I´m serious about the name. In Uruguay, we are known, even in bus terminal´s food courts as those who add eggs and ham to everything. I guess it´s not *that* far off the mark.

Outside the restaurant, a number of kids asked for "moneys, please". It became quickly clear how their system worked. They were pimped. An older, and quite cruel, dude would sometimes act as the father but more often sit in a doorway and smoke as the boys begged. If one gringo walked by without a kid asking, there was trouble. When we left, we caught 3 of them dancing to the current pop fave down here ("Gasolina") as it played on the tv of Joe Peperone´s.

And then we tried our best to catch perhaps the most unusual occupation in Uruguay on film. And, though it might not seem so difficult, they are always on the move and often obscured from view. Who? They garbagemen on horse and buddy! Yup. All day, all night, dudes clippety-clopping around with a carriage full of trash. It´s not as though there were horses doing anything else in the city. Nope, the streets were just cars, busses and garbage carriers. One other thing. The cars here actually STOP for you at crossswalks. In BA, they aim for ya.

Took about 5 seconds to fall asleep. Having spent $32.50USD to sleep here, I was determined to get my money´s worth. The alarm woke me at half eight and trhe snooze got me out of bed at quarter to. The gym hadn´t been seen since this place opened in the 80s but I still managed to work upa sweat. The pool, on the other ahnd, was quite nice, well lit on the roof and empty. As there weren´t towels provided, I dried off in the sauna.

Breakfast was unexpected. Fresh fruit, coffee and juice along with cereal, yogurt and a croissant hit the spot. After a shower and a half hour on the bed watching tennis, I was ready for action.

But there wasn´t much to be had in MV. We walked out to the same plaza, checked the body, checked the theatre which was closed, then decided to get the hell out.

Before we did though, we were convinced to check out the museum of Carlos Torres Garcia, a Picasso contemporary, painter, toymaker and covered ont he 5 peso bill.

After that we hopped a bus to Punta del Este. On the way to the bus station, I took some pictures.

My mechanic shoppe

Site of the first world cup

Punta del Este - November 15 and 16

Escapism at its finest. Port and river on one side, open Atlantic on the other. 28 degrees and we´ve rented scotters again. This time, though, we need them. We´re looking for hotels and we end up in a cool town up the road called La Barra. On the way, we pass numerous beaches, a river mouth swarming with surfers (who ain´t bad), twin bridges, and a quaint little town, and oh yeah, million dollar homes, one after another. The hotel is called La Bluette. Hugo gave us a room for half price, 80USD and it was beautiful. Tastefully and well appointed. The room had high wood ceilings and green-washed concrete walls, leaving it airy and cool. The bathroom was massive as was the private deck. After checking in, we headed off for a ride to dinner and caught the most magnificent simultaneous sunset and moonrise.

After some decent seafood back in PdE, we had a drink on the patio, then crashed. I started the next day with a run across the length of bikini beach and back, but only spotted 3 (and a half) of them. In the summer, this place is THE place to see and be seen. Now it´s deserted, thirty degrees and perfect...

Just a few things to do in BA

2005-11-11T17:08:00.000-08:00

Futbol at La Bombonera In Argentina, soccer is religion and Maradona is Jesus. This is the stadium of his former team, the Boca Juniors, "le mejor en el mundo" according to my friend in seat 115 beside me and, if the energy of the crowd revealed anything, the opinion of about all of the 50 000 people here. The name means Chocolate Box and is named as such because there wasn't enough room in the barrio, La Boca, to build tiers all the way around. One side is practically vertical.

The atmosphere is electric. Continuous singing, jumping and arm waving keep you entertained even if you don't fancy the footee. The ubiquitous flags and shirts sporting the number 12 are the title of the Boca fans, representing the 12'th man on the field. (Cool, eh?)

This trip involves going early to get tickets, so one also does a tour of the historic, colourful and somewhat smelly port and artist enclave of La Boca. Great value for arts and crafts. And lots of sidewalk cafes, if the river's aroma doesn't steal your appetite.

Microcentro Walking Tour From our apartment, head down and around the Plaza de Mayo, famous for the Pink House, offices of the president and famous for speaches given by Peron and his wife, Evita. Then down Reconquista where my adopted uncle Pio works near the stock market and past the YMCA where Pat and I have been regulars. Florida is a pedestrian street with lots of shops that leads all the way down to Plaza San Martin, named after AR's liberator and home to some cool trees. Any tour of mine wouldn't be mine if it didn't end at a bar and this one doesn't disappoint. Pubs abound with great after-work people watching in the late afternoon. Friday afternoon perhaps?

Estancias These are old family ranches within 100km of the city that have been outcompeted by factory farms and then decided to turn into upscale B&Bs. They also do Dias del Campo, day tours that include horseback riding, parilla (traditional Argentinian BBQ) and a gaucho (cowboy) show.

Tango Class Milongas, or country songs are one of three traditional tango styles. They are also the name used for tango dancehalls that start around 8pm with classes and go on late. Some, like the Centro Cultural Torquato Tasso, have live bands. There are plenty of options.

Dancing 'til Dawn In this town, the clubs don't finish at two, they start at two. Sundays are the most popular mornings to enjoy the sunrise. Last weekend, I was at a place modelled after Sydney's Opera House. It had a wonderful atrium. With four rooms, it's got lots of variety and lots of space outside too. Somehow though, they only thought to build a single bathroom so I spent much of my night squeezing between partying porteños to and from.

Waking up to a Canadian Breakfast After a big night out, sometimes there's nothing better than sleeping in 'til the early afternoon, cooking up some bacon and eggs and maybe playing a game of cribbage. To add a bit of a porteño twist, share a maté afterwards while reading about Rio de Janeiro in the Lonely Planet or maybe exchanging massages with a friend. [ed: I originally wrote this list for Audrey. I assure you that I am still a faithful and heterosexual dude.]

Shopping in Palermo Viejo BA is a world-class city with world-class shopping. With the collapse of its dollar though, we get this for very reasonable prices. Patrick and I have been comparing on name brna items, and prices seem to be about half. Plus there is NO extra sales tax. Palermo Viejo is a trendy neighbourhood of tree-lined avenues and small 2-story buildings loaded with boutiques of local designers. It also boasts some of the city's best cafés, for that much needed pick-me-up after a tiring day.

Visiting the Brazilian Embassy What could be more interesting than a few hours in line at the embassy of a country renowned for its red tape and bureaucracy? Coming back and doing it again in 2 to 4 business days, of course! Take a number...

Exploring Barrio Norte On the weekends, the city's most posh place is the place to wander. First, there is the Cemetary, where the city's rich and famous come to be buried. With elaborate statues and mausoleums, it is a ghost city, a 'Necropolis'. Walking around and contemplating one's mortality is said to be a 'delight'. Maybe not the word I would have chosen but we'll see.

Also in this barrio's wander is an ever'expanding arts and crafts fair. I met a cool couple from Oregon last Sunday who had just come from there and their better half was sporting too chunky and funky pieces: a silver necklace and a leather bracelet with lots of silver plusses stapled into it.

Trekking Los Torres del Paine

2005-11-04T10:56:00.000-08:00

I am damn lucky to have had the opportunity to trek this wonderful park. And taken it. I was never sure that I was going to make it all the way down to Southern Patagonia. But intuition kept pushing me south.

I thrived on the experience: pushing my body into a machine state along trails, up and down mountains and valleys; the mind meanwhile separate from the body, drifting in and out of the surroundings and dreaming of experiences with loved ones past and present. Awake soon after dawn, asleep soon after dusk. Hard days, deep sleeps, and hot meals, gratefully devoured.

Day 0 - Friday October 28, 2005 - Prep in Puerto Natales

On the bus from El Calafate to Puerto Natales, I had two lucky encounters. The first was with a couple young Israelis, one of which happened to have the same Creative Zen Micro MP3 player that I have. Not sure if I've mentioned this yet, but I forgot my charger back in Vancouver so have been without a soundtrack since my first week. It had been frequently and sadly missed. I was able to charge both batteries and also burn a copy of the driver cd, hoping to be able to use the USB cable to charge the player later on (as I have always done but doesn't seem to work without the driver). The point: music, man! I got music for my trekking!

The second lucky encounter was with a fountainhead named Koen (pronounced more Koohn than Cohen) who comes from Belgium. He had already been camping lots on his travels and had necessities like bag, tent, stove and pots and was ready to go. We went out for a coffee in town, realized there was no reason to delay, and decided to travel together, share food, and leave the next morning.

So ensued day zero. Running around looking for a 1-man tent, sleeping bag and pad for myself, a tin cup (which played an important role in most of my best non-hiking moments;), bus tickets, route planning, and food. We bought a tonne of food. I was only going for 5 day, but Koen wanted to go for 12, so between us we were carrying food for at least 17 days. We also had a box of wine, a bottle of cheap pisco and, oh yeah, the second most expensive scotch at the supermercado, Johnny Walker Black Label. Hey, it's cold in the mountains!

Day 1 - Saturday October 29, 2005 - Early Bus and hike to Los Torres

With far too much coffee in me, having spent the afternoon buzzing like a bee preparing, I hit the sack like a kid on Christmas Eve. Excited, happy and wide awake. I suppose I got two hours.

So... I had to forget something. It wasn't to charge my camera battery. That I handled. But then I managed to leave the battery in the charger. Yup - I really did. My camera does take AAs though, so I did get a few pictures, but it eats them up whole.

Here's what my first day looked like. Hopefully, I'll get a few more shots from my friend Dejan later and I'll post those too.

Up my first hill

The machine, fully loaded

the river valley came next

southern symbiosis

los torres and yours truly

word up

Day 2 - Sunday October 30, 2005 - 10:50pm (late) - Refugio Los Cuernos

Deep Sleep Although I had planned to get up with the others before sunrise and hike up to the towers again, I just couldn't tear myself away from my tent. I had been having the best sleep I could remember. Twice that I recall, I woke up from one great dream directly into another! In the first, I awoke on a tropical mountain with Audrey and in the second, into a beach with my family. During the latter came a tapping along with a voice that didn't quite fit. It was our neighbour Ben. At 4:45am. And so I awoke from the dream that I had just awoke into.

And my feet were so damn cozy.

I slept another hour. When I finally decided to get up, the birds had begun to sing. The light filtering through my tent did not even hint at the beauty beyond. The valley was alight with purples, pinks and blues, layers moving up the V traced by thin cloud bands. When I moved out of the forest campsite, I could see two of the towers, both crimson red and smoking a thin fog.

So day 2 began.

The Steppes. The rest was long but quite easy, steadily moving downhill along the Patagonian Steppe. Below, a picture perfect tuquoise lake. Above, sharp and mysterious granite spyres, hidden by fast moving fog and cloud. The trail itself moved through grass and shrub separating the two, from about eight to two hundred feet above the lake, beyond which brightly painted green hills rose sharply up without beach or plain.

After about four hours of this, we stopped for lunch on the plateau of one of many small hills along the trail. Under a light rainfall, we both fell asleep.

thep photo on which my camera kicked it

The Refugio An hour later, we began the last ninety minutes to the next camp, named for another two (maybe four) granite spires called Los Cuernos (The Horns). What a perfect spot. Only a few hundred meters from both the lake and the mountains, inside it was sauna-hot and the beers were ice-cold. I had two, met some fellow hikers and couldn't wipe the smile from my face. We set up our tents and made a tuna casserole of sorts. I had a tin cup of JW, ate, then brought the next cup back to the refugio.

Then the wind began. Damn! It's howling. I am currently the only one here save the staff and as I write this senstence, Chico is wiping tables and the wind is rocking the whole place. Chileno rock pumps out of the kitchen. And a light just went out. Time to retire. What a great day!

Day 3 Halloween - 11:15am - Los Cuernos

I am sasquatch, hairy and wild, eating treats in the woods, oreos and cadbury chocolates. For breakfast. Because it's Halloween. And I am Sasquatch.

The winds here are amazing. They are localized, meaning that you can tell exactly where they are, hear them moving down or up the valley and as they pass by, they moan and the trees shake. Here comes one now.

Koen is still sleeping. That's about half a day now. Suppose I'll wake him soon. I've just been hanging in my tent, listening to the wind and the birds and reading my book. It is called "the curious incident of the dog in the night-time". In it, a dog is found dead a fifteen yeaer old autistic boy who writes the story in the first person. It's very well done but now his voice is inside my head and I am having a hard time not copying his style...

Today we hike 2.5 hours to the next camp (primitive and free Italiano), set up there and leave our gear, then hike up for a 5 or 6 hour return trip through El Valle Franecs. More beauty, more sasquatch, more treats, more tricks.

Day 5 - Wednesday November 2, 2005 - Refugio Pine Grande (aka Pehoe)

Aaaah... sitting in the lodge in dry clean clothes and the sun on my back, I can look back at my adventure and smile. All the hard work is done, and it was well worth it. Sure, there's still a catamaran across the impossibly blue Lago Pehoe, a bus to Puerto Natales, another to El Calafate and finally a plane before I reach Buenos Aires, but my journey here is complete. In truth, it ended last night with a long moment that I hope never to forget.

Allow me to rewind.

Day 4 - Valle Frances to Glacier Grey

After having ran into the Slovenian guys who had been accused of stealing the car rental agent's sunglasses in Puerto Madryn (which had actually been swiped by Patrick), I followed them back up the Valle Frances to take another look and to get one or two shots with Dejan's camera. [I suppose I should rewind a bit further to Day 3 to say that the valley was incredibly beautiful, a little of everything the park has to offer including the best panaramas. As I was the only North American around, I celebrated Halloween as a sasquatch in my own head, and spent much of the evening cooking with Igor in the bathroom, the only obvious shelter from the wind.]

On return, I made some nescafe, woke up Koen, and ate a quick breakfast while packing up. From there, it was a pleasant and warm two hour journey under the sun to Lago Pehoe. Short break.

With now three hours under our belts, we headed off for another three hours, with packs. The crazy Slovaks soon disappeared and I did my own thing (i.e. let my body find its rhythm and let my head wander around in meditation). However, I had packed unevenly (heavier on the left) and my feet began to hurt and the wind was blowing something awful. I don't know. My spirits tanked. First, and only, time on the trip. For about an hour and a half, I was just drudging along, pushing myself to get to the next refugio. Beer and a sandwich, Beer and a sandwich was my mantra. My mp3 player probably saved me. (Thanks Dagan)

Eventually I arrived. I found that beer. I found that sandwich and a fire and a place to put my feet up. The Slovaks had already scouted around, checked out Glacier Grey and were on their way BACK the three hours to Pehoe! The next day, they had another 5 to do to skip the $20 catamaran. And it was Igor's birthday. Crazy.

At that point, I knew there was no way I was going to put the pack back on and climb another two hours to the free campomento. I pulled out my book instead. After an hour and a half, my slow and steady Belgian friend arrived and ordered two more beers.

Then the sun came out. It hadn't been seen since the morning. By this time, it was around 7pm. I decided to do a little exploring so I packed up, with gloves, scotch, smokes and my journal and off I went.

The beach of Lago Grey is composed of granite carved and shined by the slow recession (or perhaps advancement) of ice millions of years gone by. I wondered whether this constituted a beach but didn't come to anything conclusive so I'll just go with it.

In the lake itself there were about ten big icebergs in sight. One, in particular, was "big enough to sink the Titanic. You can't miss it," according to my new neighbour Peter. Now, the superstition, according to cruise companies in Chile, is that a glass of whisky drank with a "million year old icecube" will guarantee a return trip to Patagonia. Fine by me, my kind of tradition. I found a little bay with lots of the little guys floating around and chipped off a bunch into my trusty tin cup, floated some johnny walker into there and sat down to enjoy the sunset.

To my right sat the glacier proper, stretching to the horizon, ice blue and dirty from falling rock, rumbling and roaring from within. Beside it, an island simply dubbed La Isla on the map. In front, a calm lake, strangely grey, not turquoise like all the rest. It's small waves, whispering, pushed the mini-bergs up against the rocks on which i sat. In the distance, the sun sank, sometimes obscured by whispy clouds. A picture in greys and blues, dominated by the previously mentioned iceberg, a big blue modern sculpture that would not have been out of place in front some civic building, a library perhaps.

So there I sat on the last night and drank all this in, mixed with the scotch rocks and a cigarette. And when I finished, and the sun had not yet gone down, I decided it wouldn't be the worst thing to come back a third time so I walked down to the water, and broke off a few more prehistoric cubes...

The Perito Moreno Glacier

2005-10-27T13:48:00.000-07:00

Discovered only one hundred years ago, this glacier is incredibly easy to access. You can take a boat or climb on top of it or just hang out on many walkways and stare at this majestic prehistoric beastie. which is what i did. i arrived in el calafate on an incredibley warm and sunny day, perhaps the warmest i've had yet! met up with a wonderful dutch couple, pictured below, that suggested hiring a taxi. done.

stephanie and david, lawyers turned bankers from amsterdam, and damned fine company

great day. a comparably short drive of only ninety minutes each way, making sandwiches and eating chocolates, getting to know each other, an hour or so hanging with the moreno, drinks on the street in the afternoon and an expensive but tasty dinner with plenty of vino and conversation.

there is a particular white grape that isn't grown anywhere else in the world called Torrontes that is very nice. reminiscent of sauvignon blancs from marlborough, new zealand. the cognac here is also very tasty, though different. you can really taste that its made from wine, and has flavours similar to good white port. trying to get me a bottle to keep me warm in torres del paine...

cya, kc

Puerto Madryn

2005-10-25T14:13:00.000-07:00

Puerto Madryn sits on Argentina's east coast, about halfway between Buenos Aires and Tierra del Fuego. It also sits about halfway between its two attractions, the Peninsula Valdes and Punta Tomba, which can be described as nothing less than fantastic. Thousands of sea lions and elephant seals call the peninsula their home. And each year, hundreds of massive southern right whales come by. It seems this is THE place to raise your kids. That is, if you're a whale.

I saw two. Want to see them? Ok

Una madre

y su nina

It was incredible. We took a boat cruise and spent at least a half hour within 20 metres of these two, just hanging out, coming to the surface for some fresh air every couple minutes, the mother then her daughter, side by side.

The whale watching experience

The next day, we saw a couple penguins too. Approximately four hundred thousand penguins come to Punta Tomba in the early spring (August/September) and a million leave in the summer! Though I lost count, it seemed that most of them were there when we visited.

Body surfing was funny. I've got lots more pictures of these.

Both the mother and father take turns keeping the egg warm and hunting. Dig that smile.

They really were EVERYWHERE. Under each bush, there were three or more holes with three or more penguins and their eggs. And the little guys were strutting their stuff everywhere. The pathways they asked us to stay on were only a couple feet from these bushes and there was also an overpass over the highway from the ocean to the field. Most were pretty shy but not this one! What's she looking for?

So, obviously that was fucking amazing. But oh my god, what roads. Hours upon hours of rough gravel with nothing in any direction but dry prickly shrubs. On each of these days, Patrick and I split about 6 hours of driving. We did this to cut costs, which were predictably high for such an excursion. Also predictable were the number of backpackers that either didn't have a credit card or weren't 25, so we were rather popular and it wasn't hard to fill out tour bus (a 1.3L Fiat Uno Fire) with passengers.

I'll spare you pictures of the road and instead, show you a picture of a little guy that would have been a speed bump had a lesser driver than PC been behind the wheel.
(Can you see this picture? On my lcd, its a great shot of an armidillo peaking out of hole, but on this computer it looks like a hole. :-s )

Tomorrow I am off to Parque Nacional Glaciar Perito Moreno by El Calafate and then to Torres del Paine back in Chile where I'm going to spend a week or so trekking around what is supposedly the most magnificent parks in the world. Patrick has had just about enough of the cold and has jumped on another overnight bus north. If you're looking for him, he'll be in Mar del Plata.

So long!

(PS: How come no one ever comments? Hey! I'm doing this for you! Show me some love, alright?)

Tonight we're gonna party

2005-10-21T10:48:00.000-07:00

Monday I keep thinking "Weekend's coming, gonna go home"
Tuesday I hate, oh Tuesday
Ain't no girls on the streets
Tuesday it ain't good for nothing
Drinking beer and watching TV
Friday, Friday evening
Come on Friday, it's been too long
Friday, Friday evening
Come on Friday, I wanna go home
Wednesday's hump day, hump day's Wednesday
Over the hump, the week's half-gone
If I had my pay on Wednesday I'd hang out, the hump day's gone
Thursday, you know I feel better
I can see the end in sight
Think I'll write myself a letter
Help myself through the night
(JJ Cale)

Arrayanes. Ancient bushes said locally to have inspired the forest where bambi lives.

A recurring image in Argentina, babies suckling the wolf. Not sure of the significance...

but when in argentina...

zen and the art of moto

2005-10-17T17:09:00.000-07:00

yeah, perhaps the number of photos is getting out of hand but as my bucket ain´t quite full yet, check out these. i had such a good day riding a little italian moto that i had to show and tell.

me and gloria down by the school yard

can you believe i had it flying to 90 km/h!?

gabby took me down to the river

and i made a friend. can anyone tell me what´s up with a cow that has horns AND udders?!

at the first salto (rapid or waterfall, not sure which as cascada is also waterfall) i was told that the strudel was very good. it was

me and the other saltos

and a couple sunset shots from park lake hotel (http://www.villarricaparklakehotel.cl/) which is nice, but bland. antumalal is the place to stay to impress your honey down here (http://www.antumalal.com/)

according to plan (mas-o-meno)

2005-10-16T12:50:00.000-07:00

these last few days have been non-stop. pucon really lives up to it´s name as chile´s navel of outdoor adventure. in the past four days, i have been horseback riding, been to two hot springs, hiked around a park full of bamboo and monkey puzzle trees and, here´s the icing, summitted a live magma-spitting rock-above-my-head-hurling volcano at 9000 ft! not enough? each morning began with 3 hours of private spanish lessons.

so today is domingo, and i´m feeling tranquillo. slept like a baby last night. i´ve been here for a week and the volcano was the perfect climax. today is my day off, tomorrow my last lesson and tuesday i head to argentina. still southward bound, but from now on, on the eastern edge of the andes, where it´s about 1/3 the cost.

Tuesday

Sick day. Dinner at an idyllic little bauhaus hotel once visited by the queen, Antumalal.

Drinks took about a half hour to make, but they made pc smile so they couldn´t be that bad.

Wednesday

First day of class, then horseback riding. Didn´t click when Mattias, the German ex-pat who runs the ranch and toured us around, told me that he had married his spanish teacher back at home that she would be a teacher at my school. The next morning, as I groggily conjugate verbs, I realize that the mug from which I´m drinking coffee is from that ranch and it all fits together. My teacher, Gloria, is Mattias´ wife´s best friend and partner. Pucon gets a bit smaller...

Back at the hostel, met a few californian lads and another german who I convinced to split the ride to another hot springs. Drinks and laughs at the one most recommended by Lonely Planet (LP). As you might expect, LP means two things when travelling, cheap (barato) and crowded (atestado). But it was fun. Didn´t my camera to this one as it was dark.

Thursday

Aforementioned class then back to Termas Geometricas so I could do it a bit more justice in the photos.

Friday

El Parque Huerquehue, pronounced "Wear K-Way", which is apt. The trails were mud... and then snow. But like BC, you get what you muck for. In this case, an ancient and lush forest, blanketed with bamboo and topped with many gnarly and unnamed trees as well as the elusive araucaria, or monkey puzzle tree, many of which are over a thousand years old.

Saturday

Volcan Villarica. "The Devil´s House," shown above from the park. Its peak stands tall at 2840m above sea level, well above most everything around here and we climbed that gnarly mf.

9:30am

Going up...

and up...

to the top (3:30pm)

check it out.

this is nothing.

the first two eruptions that spat when we got to the crater were effin massive. The first about 50 ft above our heads but with the fallout confined to the crater itself. The second was even higher, shooting fly balls of magma all around us. I would have taken a picture but I was high-tailing it. The other crew had helmets...

Going down...

Incredible day. I´ve got a piece of that 2nd eruption in my backpack.

happy, thanks!

2005-10-11T12:21:00.000-07:00

hey. it´s absolutely miserable here. it´s pouring rain and it´s cold and i´ve got the flu and it couldn´t be better! time to sit back, read a book and catch up on the blog. as my brain is a bit slow today, this entry is mainly going to be pictures, with a few comments for each.

Friday

Bussed from Valparaiso to Santiago after a night of drinking and dancing and even spanish karaoke with all the travellers at Casa Ventura. This is Chris, a german medical student and avid windsurfer whose finishing his residency here. We call him "the angel" as this is how dying latinos see him when he´s attending to them in the hospital.

In the evening, we bought tickets for the train to Temuco for Saturday and food for a chicken salad and sandwiches dinner, then met up with Lisa who took us to the fountain by Manuel Montt station to throw the frisbee.

Saturday

Shopping for gifts at Los Dominicos, a convent that now houses a big market where craftspeople hawk their wares. Found two really nice pieces of jewellery but both already had slight damages and were kind of expensive so I passed. (Sorry Mom) Thanks to Patrick for QA.

This is Lisa, eating the traditional chilean snack, an Empanada (pastry filled with beef, onion, egg and olive).

This is Patrick eating horse jerkey.

Sunday

Early morning shot from the train. The blue line are the interior lights reflected off the window, those at the bottom are the window frame, the rest is outside.

The black beach at Pucon is volcanic. Behind Pat is our friend Jaqueline from the Carolinas. (Hey Jacqueline!)

In the evening, we went to Termas Geometricas. This is one the road to. That "riverbed" is actually the remains of a lava flow from 84.

The picture doesn´t do any justice to this place. I´m going to be here for the week taking spanish lessons so I´ll try to make it back and show how stunning this place really was.

Monday

We went flogging. There´s a large private peninsula that cuts the beach here into two. To get on it, you have to play golf. No problem. 11,000 pesos later, with some clubs we rented from the gate guard and we´re on the course (errr, ¿street?)

ah, here we go. this has got to be the signature hole. Although you can´t see it behind the clouds, directly ahead is the giant volcano villarica.

and finally, this guy wouldn´t leave us alone so i had to open up a can on his ass.

ciao.

Busted out at 10:40 am

2005-10-06T15:58:00.000-07:00

"We´ve got to get out of here," were the words that I woke up to today. "And soon." Yesterday, at around 5:30, we arrived in Viña. That was Wednesday. It was cold and dark and we had nowhere to go. We had been going to Valparaiso, but mistakenly got off about 4km too soon. In the original destination, a hostel was expecting us. Here we were ringing doorbells. You see, we had taken a night bus to avoid paying for a hostel. It was supposed to be an eight hour trip. It took six.

A plump sleepy young chilena greeted us on our 3rd try, and showed us to a room. Five minutes later, a caricature of what this young girl will become in 50 years opened the door and grunted, "Catorce. Catorce pesos. Pesos. Pesos," all the while rubbing her thumb against her middle and index fingers. So we paid, and did our best to clarify that this was an early, not a late check-in, if you catch my drift. And drift we did, off to sleep.

Viña was like any other small beach town in Southern California, except in Chile. We had lunch at a trendy restaurant Enjoy del Mar on a patio with a bbq and salad bar, then wandered around town to the Fonck Museum (yup) to which they´d dragged one of the original Moai statues from Easter Island. Inside, there was also some dead dudes and their material posessions. In the evening, we went to Astros gym, a little hole in the wall where it was easier to find anabolics than water. After the big personal trainer established his alpha male dominance, we made sure to put away all the weights - ours, plus any others we could find.

After dinner, we went to sleep. And so we return to the beginning of today´s post. Patrick woke up for breakfast and once again ran into the caricature intoning the identical phrase. "Pesos. Pesos. Pesos" Patrick protested. A family argument ensued. Patrick slowly inched toward the door...

On the way out, the chilena´s older brother nodded and asked only for the key. At 11, we arrived in Valparaiso, just in time to catch breakfast of cheese and fruit
and coffee at our original destination. Here are some shots I took today.

A peephole to valpo

pc and two canadians

obligatory casey up a tree shot

our experience of valparaiso without a thousand words

pics from portillo

2005-10-05T10:02:00.000-07:00

finally got around to getting a few pictures up.

in the table tennis tourney, pat and i both faired pretty well, both losing to the eventual champion, jose from snowboarding magazine out of mammoth mountain. also pictured are andy ribonowitz and johnny alamo (though known as utah saints, actually come from dallas and new york but live in buenos aires and boulder respectively).

now here are the ute´s: dane in the back, and stacey on the right. that´s me in the middle, the conqueror from the great white north. remember the alamo?!?

el palanque

2005-10-03T22:54:00.000-07:00

strange and unfortunate night. one that had all that makings of a good time but turned to the worse. we went out for dinner and the first thing that happened was that our reservation was released because we showed up at half past for an eleven slot. dinner was good, cool place. the australians didn't show so it was pat, me and lucas plus the four girls from the hostel. they decided not to eat as they had been snacking all night. but sophie, a vegetarian, decided to eat meat for the first time in 10 years and really got into it. loved every bite of my salami pizza. in not more than 15 minutes, she didn't feel so well and excused herself. and then excused herself again. so we finished and went back to the hostel to drop her off.

off we went to dance. lucas took us to a club playing house. and all (all) of us said we didn't like house. in the girls go. in 3 minutes, pat and i are in, but they decide note to let lucas, our host, in. it was the worst vibe i'd ever seen in a club. no one dancing, no one even smiling, and some *mean* transvestites. lucas disappeared and then we left. night complete.

when we got home, sophie had puked and their room stank. they cleaned up and have now gone to bed. i had a smoke and a beer and decided to tell all you about our fun... right.

la tierra del sol y del vino

2005-10-02T20:57:00.000-07:00

hello again friends and family.

i am full of the sun and the wine. we have left portillo and all that good food and sun and snow and come to mendoza and all its good food and sun and wine.

¡what to say? last night i thought this place was trash. the roads are unlit and the streets were lined with stores hawking cheap goods, primarily baby and maternity clothes, and ice cream. but today, when we awoke (around noon) it turned out to be quite beautiful. the streets are tree lined, the holes that yesterday seemed like unmarked construction turned out to be aquaducts that the river mendoza flows through in the summer and because it was sunday, all the trash-hawkers stayed home.

we rented bikes from a couple of severely hung over portenos who had a hard time getting their pump to work, then rode off to the parque san martin, with its 17km of trails and a big zoo with many small cages. jaguars and condors, hippos and crazy polar bears. chicos throwing rocks, and chicas feeding with popcorn. i admit, yes, i had an orange and i couldn{t resist throwing the slices to the chimps. they{ve got some serious skills.

went to a bodega restaurant for dinner. highest class restaurant in town. 4 glasses of wine, appetizer, rib eye and baby goat mains, two desserts... 60 bucks! viva argentina. basically, everything is 1/3 the price of a US dollar!

based on our experience here and from andy{s stories of buenos aires, i think we{ll be spending lots of time in argentina.

i{m off to bed. please write me with all your adventures. i miss you and wish you were here to share in the fun.

amo el nightlife

2005-09-28T10:30:00.000-07:00

another beautiful day here but I haven't been on the slopes or listening to any music. i've been lounging, drinking coffee and reading about possible adventures south of santiago.

last night, i sampled the smorgasbord of nightlife portillo has to offer. i believe i told you that i met some blokes in the hot tub. (there are no single ladies here.)two of these blokes were andy, who runs the worlds biggest air-stream online forum and a bunch of other sites out of buenos aires, and johnny, who does PR for warren miller (the latter being the most famous extreme skier in the universe). well, their crew also includes a cool group from utah. (all married like good mormons.) joe runs a super-posh ski property management group with ties to warren miller's company and plays the futbol with us. he brought stacey, who doesn't dance, and dane, who does.

in the afternoon in the bar, we had a great conversation about pharmaceuticals and the ease of which they can be obtained in the clinic downstairs. flexonall seems very popular. after our ever-more-popular nightly soccer match, we had dinner, which was nothing short of extravagant, with king crab salad, tuna tar-tar, and parfait. after dinner, we retired to the living room for tea and cribbage. met up with the utes, and some card-players (who come back later).

nightlife in portillo starts at 10 with a chilean band playing ccr and beatles, and i have a sneaking suspicion that they don't really know what the words mean. but they giv'er. in a phonetic chileno sort of way.

after strolling out of there, i found the above card-players looking for some hot poker action. we played for pesos, but played with peanuts. 40 each, 1-2 half-nut blinds. when johnny crawled out of bed, i decided that either to go out with a bang, or get a considerable nut lead. got roped in by not one but two chasers each carrier sets, to my bullet pair.

so on to disco. billie jean, bee gees, fresh prince, and 5 of us rippin up the floor! finally, dane and i, the sole surviving gringos, went across the street to 'el posada', the staff bar where there was a birthday party and beers are 1/3 the price. walking in before our friends from the disco, we met quite a number of stares. it warmed up, but we didn't stay long as 'it wasn't happening'. so dane and i walked back up the driveway, cervesa escudos in hands, and up to our rooms. buenos noches.

pinky and the terrain

2005-09-25T15:29:00.000-07:00

took a few runs to find my legs, and a couple hours for the sun to warm up the crusties on the slope, but i couldn't have asked for a better first day riding portillo. the mountain itself is quite small, well, the terrain serviced by lifts, at least, but it is gorgeous. a long bright day of clear blue skies cut at the horizon by sharp young mountains, rocky at the top and snow-covered not far below that. there isn't a single tree anywhere in sight!

we rode from 9-12, then stopped for lunch. when we found out that it wasn't served 'til half past, we went upstairs, took off our boots and relaxed. pat napping, me reading. lunch was creme of vegetable soup followed by seafood canneloni. of course, after such a light meal, we went back to our room for a bit more relaxing. me reading, pat napping. then we rode from 2 - 5. this was followed by a dip in the hot tub, a few games of table tennis, and oh, it's about time for my yoga class.

:) good times.

ps: pinky is the woman's name who runs the internet lab. it's 2500 pesos for a half hour. that's over 5 bucks! so please don't complain if personal emails are terse. i still love you.

el boracho infermo

2005-09-24T19:06:00.000-07:00

oh pisco. how you sneak up and pounce on me...

last night, patrick and i went out with our new friend lisa blachut, who's in town on a student exchange. everywhere in santiago, 6pm -> is happy hour. drinks are 2 for 1. the first place we went, we ordered four (for 3 of us). when the bill came, there was no happy. it was for four (stupid gringo? ha). the waitress tells us (well, lisa) that they bring one at a time (right). and so it began.

much later, i met some chilenos who were drinking it straight...

suffice it to asy, i didn´t make it up the hill today. but it is gorgeous here. the food (crab soufle, leg of lamb, chilean wine, pineapple sherbet) and the people are great. top drawer spot.

i learned something about myself today. not that i like to drink a few too many, that i already knew. no, i learned that i can spend countless hours on buses. i love it. i just sit with my headphones on and watch the world slip past.

i´m off to bed. buenos noches

hey diddle-diddle

2005-09-22T08:57:00.000-07:00

the cat and the fiddle

So today's the day. I've said my goodbyes, packed my bags and in just a few hours, my oldest friend and I will be on our way to Santiago. And so begins my journey.

the cow jumped over the moon

DATE CITY TIME FLIGHT NBR/CLASS SEAT

22SEP LV VANCOUVER YVR 1515 AIR CANADA 100H 2F

AR TORONTO YYZ 2239

22SEP LV TORONTO YYZ 2355 AIR CANADA 92H 34F
23SEP AR SANTIAGO SCL 1030

the little dog laughed to see such sport

early saturday morning, we leave for a week at portillo, chile's premier ski resort. it only has a single hotel for 450 guests => fresh tracks, no lift lines.

and the dish ran away with the spoon