South American Food Gallery

This drink liked to greet me all over my pants.

Peruvian pisco. looks girly but strong

Plate of fried seafood

i know it looks like vomit in that right hand corner, but it's delicious sauce from some ceviche (sorry, fish was already eaten before i remembered to take a photo). also notice that obese, swollen bit of corn in the left

nothing beats homemade vanilla ice cream and miscellaneous desserts

fruit crepe

Bolivian empanada called saltena. samosa in a cornbread pastry.

uptown Argentine steak (and mozzarella balls)

it was about 4 inches thick

mango gelato

totally forgot their portugese names. the brazilian sweets are very african.

bottom is mango. that doughy thing is a bit like a beneigh. top is some dish that's called something starting with 'c' (and i put that on top of huevos because...it was breakfast)

plate of fried again. eggplant, potatoes, lots of churrasco meats

plate of more meat

fudge things people buy in shops as snacks

tea. nope, tea is still gross

honey roasted peanuts and almonds

Day 21 (and 22)- Back to the Future and summation

you know what i like about losing a whole day to the international dateline, is that i get to have a lot of self-reflective dialogues over my trip.

lots of things in south america were expected, like the inherent machismo attitude (in Chile, they serve coffee "with legs", have a guess what that means for staff attire), the optimism in face of clear chaos (all planes are "On Time" despite boarding half an hour after departure time, and when everyone applauds the pilot for landing you betcha you're glad your travel insurance pays double for death on a plane). many things were hopefully expected, like the generosity and hospitality. Peruvians and Bolivians in particular are very gracious. there were 3 different young couples who gave me their number in case i needed help (NOT a threesome proposition, they all had kids and were devout catholics!), and one time i couldn't use the public payphone and some old lady pulled out her mobile and dialled it for me without seeking thanks or money.

some things were surprising, like how much i was moved by cusco and machu picchu (i like to think of myself as a stoic, unfazed, super cool person. really. ahem. stop laughing.), in fact if it were allowed i'd like to have my ashes scattered there. that's right, it's so beautiful i want to die and have my human body burnt to a crisp just so i could stay there forever.

i was surprised by how much i liked cigars. i regret not trying them earlier and wish my cigarette prejudice hadn't plagued me. a cigar is like dark chocolate with chilli, it's like eating the heart of a tree. everything else you drink or eat after also tastes very interesting. of course having said that i still find it a costly habit. i don't know why the government puts pictures of lungs and foetuses on cigarette packages, those things don't deter smokers. my mother finds them interesting rather than disgusting. what deters me is the idea that smoking irreparably affects your quality of extreme (read fun) physical activities and experiences. i would not put cigars above skiing or snorkelling or hang gliding, and i think if they put pictures of someone abseiling it would work better at making kids think twice about smoking, certainly smoking less. it's one thing to know they could kill you when hey, eventually your own body will kill itself, and another to know you won't be able to play basketball with your friends without wheezing after 20 minutes.

i was also surprised by how much i enjoyed travelling solo. i had prepared 3 seasons of 30 Rock on the ipod thinking i'd be lonely and watch them all, but ended up not watching any of it. here are my pro's of travelling by myself:

• you always get to shower first
• you get to have the window seat
• AND the tv remote
• you do your own itinerary without compromises and stop or push on without needed to have a huge debaucle/debate
• taking off all your clothes (it's not a biggie for guys, but for us girls it can be a rare luxury)
• meeting new people, especially other solo travellers
• feeling of invincibility

and then there are the cons:

• no one to watch your crap when you need to pee (actually lots of times i asked a couple to "mira equipajes por favor" so it's not an always con)
• wanting to share an experience or gripe. you can do this with a stranger or new friend, "look a monkey!" but you can't do it the next day with a different person because they don't know about that first monkey.
• not being able to try the food your companion ordered, or justifying a really huge order "for two"
• having to be careful at night and not getting drunk for fear or being raped/vomiting in own hair. although this one is sort of a pro because it promotes sobriety and a good liver
• screw sobriety, no travel buddy means you can't put your duty free alcohol allowance together
• irrational fear that your pet or loved one is going to get run over or sick and they'll die before you get back

in conclusion, i would rate parts of south america as places i will definitely return to. it's been the best destination so far. adios!

Day 18-20: Santiago, Chile

the stray dogs are big, friendly, and ninja-trained. the walking tour group all stood in a circle, i turned around to take a photo of the Nuts 4 Nuts store (very nice honey roasted almonds) and when i swiveled around there was a malamute cross asleep in the middle. up on the furnicular to san cristobel (not much to see but smog) i turned to take a picture for a couple ("you make photograph of us please?") and when i turned again there was a rottweiller's paws next to me.

the tour was great, it was one of those free ones (the only other free walking tour i did was in amsterdam and i was too busy trying to keep vital organs from kyrogenic stasis to pay attention that time), and the guy showed us all the good street food and dishes. sorry to make this a food blog, but hey, it's my blog, so here are the foods: (i tried them out over THREE days, i didn't have them all in 24 hours! haha no really, trust me)

• Drinks included the Kross beer, another chopps. there is a drink called motte con quesillo, and is cooked barley with peaches in peach nectar juice that you semi eat. it's close to chinese drinks that have bits of red bean and jelly in them. a very large drink called the earthquake which is pisco, cheap white wine, and large chunks of ice cream. i had half of my litre tube before i knew exactly why its namesake was appropriate.
• street food includes the hot dog they call Italiano. they put about a pound of avocado on it. i couldn't really taste the frankfurt because it was all green
• the really good food is served in the bohemian part of town (isn't it always). the paila marina is seafood stew and beats any seafood chowder i've had, they have very good clams and salmon, and is that abalone i see? you would not get that in sydney unless at a chinese restaurant where they charge you through the nose. 
• also tried a local dish called the pastel choclo, imagine a large casserole dish with bits of steak and chicken, a random boiled egg (when i see boiled egg in my food i think of the Indo-Lankan place outside of Seven Hills station where your Biryani is served with a boiled egg as a side), some olives, and layered with mashed corn then baked. a shepherd's pie with corn for potatoes. very large portion for 10 bucks
• for another 10 bucks there's something which if introduced to bankstown could put the kebab out of business. it's the churilliano. on a bed of fries there are bbq-ed onions, strips of kebab meat, steak, and on top of that over-easy fried eggs. greeeeeaaaaaaazy. it's usually for two people, and i couldn't finish it. am ashamed. was also the only time i left my camera to charge, but i did take other photos of it
• chupe de jaiba- crab pudding. definitely very interesting, kind of actually reminds me of those nelson bay ned's pies with the seafood.
• ice cream parlour near park forestall has strange flavours such as essence of rose, melon and beer, and stuff. i tried the conservative caramel (yummmmm they really do love their caramel), and braved the green tea infused mango. refreshing

as for the rest of santiago, the place is very intact and solid for a place with earthquakes and political turmoil. for a place which dared to play with communism and paid a very high cost, it looks very unharmed on the surface. allende's downfall only shows how much the Cubans have had to fight (and still do). went to pablo neruda's house (he has two others outside the city) where he collects things, including his friends' stuff. bit of a vain magpie. good thing he could write. 

noticed that books are pricey throughout south america. besides argentina the rest of the countries have a very low readership, probably due to their extremely low buying power. if you could have a massive pie for 10 bucks why would you buy a book that could feed you for a month? shame because besides neruda, they have very many good poets who are read more by foreigners than locals.

stayed up til 3 on the second night, watching 5 latino guys getting very drunk at the hostel before leaving (the bromance was starting to get a bit heated). after hotel-ing it, i admit hostelling seems rough by comparison. however when i noticed there were 35+ staying there i thought, heck if i am 35 and still staying at a hostel i will shoot myself.

caught a bit of a cold (probably from Gonorrhea Face on the plane trip) and put too much zinc on my face (no mirrors in hostel rooms besides the back of my ipod) so i went out looking like a very stoned geisha with a deep, transexual voice. good times.

Day 17: Transit

p.s. mate is like chair, or that black jelly Asian drink with less sugar. the desserts in brazil are like indian sweets, they have tamarind sweets in squares with a more prunish taste, and various other corn sugar fudges with peanuts

observed notes flying: don't you hate that feeling when you realise you fell asleep with your mouth wide open and wonder if a spider crawled in whilst looking like a dead sloth?

also sat next to a guy who kept snorting (can you not just blow your nose? why maintain a newton's ball game with your mucus?) and scratching at his flaky scalp and had sweaty, sweaty arms. he had cold sores too and i woulnd't be so mean/superficial but i was worried i'd catch something since he looked like he had gonorrhea in the face.

on the other hand, flying over the Andes with the sun setting was spectacular. i know a lot of religious people look at machu picchu, and other awe-inspiring sights such as cliffs, oceans, and free refills, as a sign that there must be a god which created it. when i see something amazing, i remember how powerful nature is. it is incomprehensible how powerful it is, and that must be why people attribute it to a higher being because it is unfathomable that it happened by itself. when Darwin published his books, his critics weren't shocked by the notion of blasphemy, they were shocked by the cruelty and finality in nature. it was not the romantic idea you see in the lion king. it is a monstrous, powerful and resilient planet. think more March of the Penguins. mammals do not generally have a long shelf life compared to other species. in many ways i hope when humans die out the planet will be able to repare itself swiftly and with that sheer power which i have been lucky enough to witness every now and then along this trip

Day 16: Copacabana Beach, Brazil

got the day to myself and the beach really calmed me down. i as very zen like. then i made a castle with this toddler (the mother appreciated being given a break) and we jumped on it when we were finished (it was awwwwwwesome). way better than the city tours, even better than seeing monkeys (they were scrawney anyway)


went to a grocery store (initially to see if there were local chocolates, they are almost all of the dark variety which connoiseurs love but me being commercialised, not so much) and found russian vodka with their european seals still intact for $2.5 per litre bottle. i got two litres for FIVE DOLLARS. i have paid more for water at shitty parramatta cafes. reconsidering how much i despised brazil.

had churrasco buffet, ate lots of chicken heart, and their bbq chicken has skin that's crispy as suckling.

you know how they say chinese sounds angry? well even my mum's emails sound angry: WHERE ARE U; EMAIL EVERYDAY! WHAT IS ROOM NUMBER? EAT ALL VEGETABLES! MISS YOU! LOVE YOU REMEMBER TO CALL TOMORROW! MANTOU BAD, NOT EAT HER FOOD, ONLY EAT MINE!

my dog has trained my mother. she refuses to eat kibble and my mother is worried she'll emaciate and will give her human food which probably has salt in it and make her shed even more. i am going to come home to a fat hairless dog with gum disease.

excuse the following dig at the golden globes. what rubbish. i love aaron sorkin very dearly (thank you for years of the West Wing) but the Social Network is not the film of 2010. i understand the critics dislike big successes and won't be giving it to Inception just like they didn't give it to Avatar last year, but surely they understand that the Social Network isn't the kind of film you'd watch more than once. it is As Good As It Gets, nice story, a bit of a thinker, but not something that makes young children go, "that makes me want to be a director" (they might think, "that makes me want to be a programmer"). so long as the oscars give the actress to Natalie Portman (or i suppose, Anette Benning, hey Hilary Swank isn't nominated at last, Benning has a chance) and actor to Colin Firth i will be happy.

sorry. endeth rant

Day 14-15: Rio de Janiero, Brazil

no LAN, don't let me check in, that means i'll get a middle seat next to the bano, thanks.

Here's the thing, i don't like it here very much. in fact i will go as far as to say i could spend the rest of my life not coming back to brazil. it's not a bad place, but it's not oooh lala like everyone thinks. i found the same for Prague and...yes, i'm afraid i found the same for New York and Miami. and Paris. and Amsterdam. and London, but damn you Heathrow, you're airplane connection tickets always work out cheaper than Helsinki

they have late dinners, which of course i hate because i eat at 4.30pm, the hotel is on Copacabana beach, but i assure you it is all things seedy. there are straong round shaped stretches of beach, and i am biased when i say this: our beaches are better. but more people here play volleyball a la Top Gun style (can you hear Take My Breath Away in the back?)

the place is superficial and nothing is organised properly. it is industrialised ghetto, not so different from Hong Kong. so i will talk about food instead. i tried Acai today which is a gooey ice cream made from palms. it is thick and purple and full of pulpy seeds. not too sweet, and leaves a stain. strangely addictive. there are balls of bread with cheese on the inside. tried pernil, roast chicken and ricotta pie, tastes like quiche. there's a green fruit with pink squishy flesh, also nice. had buffet that measures by the kil (ate half a kilo and spent 9 bucks), tomorrow i will try all you can eat for 10 bucks. there was sushi but it looked obviously over-handled (not made by a Jap)

went to sugar loaf mountain where the birds hover and you see the planes land. then p corcovado to see christ the redeemer, and stood for an hour waiting for the train to take us back down (is that what he is redeeming for?), talked to a law professor from sydney uni who also owed never to return. watching the lightening was very cool, though the electrical system went down so the train ride took forever.

this is the kind of place that makes you feel dirty

Day 12: Iguassu Falls Argentine side, Day 13: Brasilian side

in the native language it means "Big Water", though in English is sometimes known as The Devil's Throat. it is the world's largest waterfall by volume (i really can't keep track of which is the biggest, it's like measuring a river, how to you measure, by depth, area or volume?) because there are HUNDRED of smaller falls. i had the guide to myself again and she was really good at taking photos of me here i look thin (still have man-shoulders, i look like i belong on the CHinese swim team). also discovered the manual mode with longer exposure does indeed provide better photos.

why do waterfalls always falls on two borders, with the more complicated visa-requiring one the crappier side? the case is true for Niagara (sorry America but you get the butt end of American horsehoe falls and a lot of mist) and i wonder if a Zimbabwean visa is worth it when i finally have enough money for Victoria Falls.

the difference from Niagara is that it's a whole national park, and the wildlife is fantastic. we spent 6 hours on the Argentine side (and hey, Asians CAN sweat! all that is needed is a South American jungle), here are some of my reasons why it is my current favourite waterfall:

• the steel bridges are right on top of the waterfalls, in awe walking on top of them.
• the butterflies are HUGE, and others have gorgeous colours. one of them is called by locals the Double 8 because it has intricate ying-yang 8 patterns on its wings. they love humans, i guess from all the salt from our pores. speaking of, i get the spanish words (and portugese) for butter and butterflies confused (the last syllable is different) so i have been making people laugh, pretty much by asking for insects on my toasted bread and stating, "YOUR LARD IS BEAUTIFUL. LARD IN AUSTRALIA NOT BIG"
• Tucans are actually the bad guys! they eat all the other native birds' eggs. none of them are afraid of humans either, and the natives now lay their eggs under said steel bridges, so every now and then the guie shows me a nest that we are walking right on top of
• there are marsupials that look like ring-tailed lemurs, they walk right along the rails of the bridges with us, and the native language for them means "pointy-nosed" (they were a very literal native people aye). the baby ones are make me want to squish them
• A JAGUAR RAN IN FRONT OF THE CAR! on the way there. it was very early though and all i saw was a quick and big beige blob. the driver says there are only 6 in the park, they come out when it's particularly hot
• lizards are pretty big, though not blue-tongued in size. they do have that blue-tongue attitude of owning the place
• i felt fit! hooray for oxygen in low altitudes. after getting breathless every 5 steps in Peru/Bolivia and constantly saying, "i walked 20 km everyday! really! but----GASP----please stop" i felt as though i were a 65 year old a-pack-a-day smoker (those illamas standing at the top of summits also damaged my self-esteem, how did they get there?!) and now i have regained my physical powress. take that Wii Fit, i am NOT 35 years old!
• the boat ride that took you right next to the falls was like a violent communal shower. there was also a guy shouting at us and filming us so it felt like we were part of some strange Hispanic Girls Gone Wild auditioning at a wet t-shirt contest. 

crossing the border the bridge changed national colours (and at the top of the national park is Paraguay's territory, but they don't have access to the falls and instead market "helicopter adventures" (whose vibrations often break the birds' eggs and therefore shouldn't be supported)

the brazilian side hotel was a village, considering i only ate there for 3 days (there was nothing else outside besides roadkill and some guy with a machete selling agua de coco) it was still a bargain, had room service meals for AUD6 bucks, and i noticed here bar fridge drinks are still cheaper than bottles of drinks for us at home, roughly 1 dollar each. BUT their burger meats, unless you ask for steak, isn't mince, it's that fake meat you get from supermarket pretend-snitzels.

the brazilian side had views and a bridge under one of the falls. so they have a lot of adventures made for Bear Grylls like rafting and bungee jumping. i contemplating WW rafting, but after someone told me your arms will hurt the entire night i chickened out and went swimming at the pool instead (empty during their siesta hours). brazilian food also has bbq parrillas which they call churrasco. they have a similiar sugarcane rum cocktail called caipirinha, but they make them quite strong.

my portugese is even worse than my spanish, it sounds more german than romantic to me. if you exclude foods, i know about 6 words. they have very good West African foods, in particular the seafood, moqueca, made from prawn and okra (okra!) as well as sweets that remind me of Trini coconut bake. they make a nice jambalaya looking dish called celebrasa from chorizo sausages in an onion stew. as you can see i spent a lot of time eating. the beer are all chopps, most draught and are better than lagers (though i find cleaning agents better than lager), though nowhere near as good as German/Czech pilsners and ales. mangoes are the calypso type, pineapples are to die for

hot water! no more waiting.

brazil is in my opinion probably poorer in appearances than Peru. but only because the gap is so wide. like the other BRIC countries Russia, India and China, there are a small, rich bunch but masses of extremely poor, shanty houses. the flood currently has a death toll close to 700, and says something about the lack of aid organisation. mostly only volunteers doing the hard work, with less than a few hundred soldiers. the racial make-up is more diverse than the other latin americas and their tv shows definitely show more bikini-clad women (one program has them chasing chickens in a pen). they also have Big Brother, but it appears to be very beautiful people eating lots of food.

just saw an ad for Chile Tourism. features shots of the 33 miners. what?! of course, i'm sure people go to Chile for its close proximity to Antarctica, its great seafood, and its POOR INDUSTRIAL WORK SAFETY???

Day 11: Colonia, Uruguay

i had one more day in Buenos Aires and was tossing up going to Uruguay or a gaucho tour. since i already live in a place like Newtown i didn´t want to see a cattle ranch like Dubbo, and opted for the 1.5hour ferry ride to Colonia. it´s a UNESCO heritage site (though not as interesting as it sounds) and is full of cobblestone paths. the humidity and heat meant that after my 4 hours of walking around i now need an urgent leg transfusion.

came back and filled out more forms (under Reason of Travel they really need another box next to ´Tourism¨, ¨Work¨ and ¨Visiting¨which says ¨Single-handedly Surpporting the Empanadas Industry¨) despite the fact that both immigration border officers were sitting next to one another

the water is so murky, and must say i am proud i didn´t yak. tried this burger joint, very good. came back for another steak (this time the place was so local they didn´t speak english. i forgot how to saw ¨rare¨so i said, ¨ME GUSTA SANGUINE¨(¨i like blood,¨ at least i hope i said that). then because i wanted to punish myself some more, walked to Cominita (a really garish part of town, it´s like the Joker is the mayor) about 3km away and pretty much spent all my money on handicrafts and mate bowls (surely an adjective, not verb. i think they drink from them. in one hotel pamphlet it recommends people to go to the river for ¨relaxation, swim and mate¨)

because i´m a baby i also then took some hydralytes in my drink after i had consumed 2 litres of agua so now i´ll be peeing all night

Day 9-10: Buenos Aires, Argentina

the plane ride from La Paz to Asuncion (layover) involved painful popping in my ears i hadn´t felt since i was 5. a few other gringoes felt it too, and every single 100ml bottle i had exploded. mmmmmm minty backpack!

i like Argentina for several reasons: my shitty vodafone mobile works here, the electrical sockets are the same as Australia, Glee is dubbed (not the songs unfortunately), and the weather is finally, that of the southern hemisphere. they also sound different, like italian. the double LL is not a y sound but a shhhhh noise (quesadisha anyone?)

guide was another awesome chica. like the others so far she doesn´t mince words. and like the others she´s also some PhD grad who says things like, ¨we killed all the natives, so everybody here is white,¨ without that feeling of personal guilt that John Howard pretends to carry. they use their hands to gesture and kiss on both cheeks

my hotel is in San Telmo, the bohemian part. to be honest, as left wing as i am, almost every bohemian town looks similar to me. they have poodles, cafes, thai and vegan restaurants, stoned guys with dreads, and narrow cobblestone streets plastered with Buddhist motifs. i feel like i travelled 14,000km to see Newtown. on the plus side, the hotel is run by a man named Javier and is designed like next season´s Ikea catalogue, infused with the scent of daffodils. once at ikea my mother followed this young gay couple, "look, they like those cushions. let´s get them too. hey now they´re looking at those curtains, oh you see how they match?" (ugh, do not get me started on the cost of curtains) and i can´t help but think she would have wanted to copy everything inside the rooms. for instance instead of bedside tables, the aged wood panel reveals a little draw-string bridge to act as a table, it´s so fracking cute i could eat it. the place is so stylish and hip i feel like i stink it up. it´s also operated by the prettiest boys (me thinks they are of the Ikea pigeon-hole though, i mean i don´t want to be homoist and assume all gay men are pretty with taste, imagine Eddie´s nerdy son from Ab Fab. it is possible they are straight men who time-travelled from the 18th century).

i had steak from a place recommended by all the guidebooks, and even though it was awesome (medium rare sirloin, juicy as can be) i can´t help but notice the place was full of tourists. the deep fried mozzarella balls made up for it.

next night had parradillada (buffet meats) but at lunch because i couldn´t wait for 10pm, had some pomelo (grape) gelato, very yummy. saw a tango show and NEED to go to south korea to get my muscular calves shaved.

Day 8: La Paz, Bolivia

regarding the hallucinogenic cactus, i became very dizzy and not much else, though i started to find the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air dubbed in spanish highly emotional. after an hour i got bored and ate some M&M´s. watched some Latino soaps and was very engrossed. will Jesus find out that Miguel is his real father? dun dun dunnnn

La Paz is the highest capital city in the world (though technically its legislative branch is in Sucre) and like yesterday i had the whole tour to myself. no tourists around at all. the same guide from yesterday told me his life story, it would make a pretty good memoir. he was drafted into the first gulf war (for amrika) and was quarantined during 9/11 (something the media never got hold of. he said the marines were more gung-ho about catching illegal immigrants than saving any civilians). in fact most people on the tour so far have had interesting lives. there was one german guy who grew up towards the end of WWII and lived half a block from Check-Point Charlie. the most intereseting thing to happen to me was watching Hong Kong being passed back to China and that time Quebec nearly became a country. poo.

the whole city basically sits like soup in a bowl. they have eroded mountains and cost of living is $150 rent per MONTH. the rent gets cheaper as you get further to the rim of the bowl so people here perfer access to views.

trout is yummy. ate 4 saltenas from different places, they´re empanadas but with extra stuff like potatoes and eggs. like a thick stew. OHHHH and these cheese things called pastels. imagine a roti when it´s all puffed up on a hot plate. but made from dough-nutty flour, with CHEEEEESE on the inside. soft, melty cheese. burnt my tongue heaps but worth it. in the otuskirts there are markets with witch doctors. people get their cars blessed (like autobirthdays) with flowers and champagne so they won´t have accidents. you know, they could just NOT drive like maniacs. they also have cola and other drinks in small plastic bags that look like they hold little goldfish, and drink out of them using straws.

asked tour guide why there were so few tourists and he said they used to have lots of Israelis, particularly off-duty Moussad, but they eventually banned them (they now need special visas) because they got tired of the soldiers "molesting the women and killing the chickens," haha. the cheese itself has made Bolivia worthwhile.

Day 7: Lake Titicaca, Bolivian Border

Hilarity all over today. border passing was two huts and fifty sheep bah-ing at you. was the only person on tour so the guide, the driver (and one dude whose job was to serve drinks) outnumbered me, but don`t worry kiddos, i was never safer. i had the whole bus to myself which seemed over the top, then we got to the lake and i realised i had the whole hydrofoil to myself too. aboard the guide blessed me in some flower water before presenting me with a certificate saying i was pure (pfft, i knew that) and then giving me a pisco drink. it`s still a bit hard to trek at this altitude, there`s only so little air. the guide consoles me by saying that the Argentine football team lost to Bolivia 6-1 because Maradona insisted on playing at the Bolivian altitude and his players were dead by half-time. we mourned a little bit over Australia`s exit in the world cup.

ventured out to the Sun and Moon islands, they used to be used by incans to house selected virgins where men were forbidden, of which the emperor would pick one (the others became miss congeniality prizes around the main town.) it was so isolated that later dictator commies used them as prisons. had lunch on those islands with no one else there. pristine and no plastic litter anywhere, felt like i had to whisper a la library mode. i suppose Mykonos and Santorni used to be like this, a place where i wanted to plant a flag and make up my own language.

the ducks here don`t have webbed feet and have a handicapped way of swimming about. they chase the hydrofoils, "they think it a female," says the guide. they use their feet to sprint across the water attempting to mate with the vessel and flap their wings in ways some people do when trying to catch a bus that`s already gone. glad no one else was on the hydrofoil because i snorted a few times.

guide was a ball. he made fun of Bolivia itself ("the red in the flag symbolises our battles, we have never won any. we used to have access to the sea but enjoyed losing so much we give to the Chile, now we only have this lake and a love of losing") as well as poking fun at other tourists, especially those who were feet-paddling giant swans, and we had an extended discussion on socialism (it`s like a dream holiday). he gives me a tip of some cactus and tells me that local women use them to numb pain, and one mouthful is enough to see things. saving it for when i`m back at the hotel since the place was too beautiful to have me hallucinating upon. will let you know how the magic cacti went (or do i alliterate its name and call it Crazy Cacti?)

Day 6: Puno, Peruvian border

bus trip to Puno stopped 5 times which was a good thing as i did not want to see the contents of my breakfast again. on route was La Raya, some 4,300m with icy mountains, and various other incan temples where children used to be sacrificed (bet incan students never talked back).


Lake Titicaca (hey, i´ve taught kids with worse names) is pretty big. sorry for the understatements, nothing will describe the places here. there´s a cultural studies term (in french, i´m sure it´s Derrida but don´t want to sound like a wanker who uses words like ´discourse´and ´hegemony´) which means we rarely experience true novelties due to things like the internet. therefore when we go to the pyramids or the great wall, we are experiencing an expectation rather than a new event. it´s not the case here. for those of you wishing to go, it will be worth it. there is no photograph on earth that captures the way clouds form and caress the mountains at Machu Picchu and no video can show you hail over the Floating Islands.

what i can tell you is that cerviche is yummy, imagine sashimi with spices. their rice is like Lebanese rice, with bits of soft wheat that looks like think brown noodles in it (probably less butter), and like Chinese people they prefer meats with bone. fine by me, and to dash the myth that black people love fried chicken, go to ANY kfc in the world, you´ll find an asian. one of the canadians said if you order beer in Peru, chicken materialises next to it, which is the same in asia, though you might want to watch out for avarian flu (i keep typing ovarian flu, and the image which ensues is not good).

still haven´t tried alpaca meat. i don´t think i can, they have faces that are too amusing.

Day 5: Interlude @ Agua Calientes, Peru

half day left at Machu Picchu, went to the Hot Springs but left because it smelled like someone had eggs and farted in my face. didn`t do much else besides shop, so here are some of my tangent notes from my journal that don`t belong anywhere, except in a narcicisstic blog. if they don`t entertain anybody my consolation is this upsidedown question mark:  ¿   in fact i`ll throw in the matching exclamation mark too:  ¡

• there are eucalyptus trees here that have not experinced bush fires, they are Aryan. very tall, very straight, very white.
• killed a spider, now there`s a shoe-print on the ceiling and its cousins are after me (all cousins will seek vengeance, my Lebanese students taught me that much)
• haven`t been bitten by mossie yet. in preparation for South America i soaked my clothes in military grade permytherin (gracias ebay)
• PS- i`m not being a paranoid hypochondriac, in Trinidad i marinated myself with Deet and still had 36 bites. on one leg. i am their ultimate aphrodisiac. i am their Moroccan saffron, their Johnny Walker Blue, i am the Bella to their Edward Cullen
• PPS- threw that last reference in there because it`s so ridiculous/accessible. frankly Twilight is a manual for stalkers with a poorly plagiarised Buffy narrative. i have elitist views on what constitutes as Literature and make no apologies. i enjoy Harry Potter and Lady Gaga but also recognise that just because Macdonald`s is the #1 restaurants, it does not make it cuisine.
• there are 5,000 species of potatoes and 1,000 species of corn in Peru. the botanist who is cataloguing their fancy latin names is now 250 years old and has not yet finished the job
• practised my spanish on a couple at the markets. after 20 minutes they realised i was not speaking portugese and i realised they were Brazilian. we then communicated in Pictionary form
• dogs here are smart. they know when to cross roads instead of dashing around flailing arms everywhere. i learnt to follow the dogs instead of the crossing signs
• they live up to their red-blooded reputation. at the departures gate people wail their goodbyes and at arrivals there are papal welcomings. i walked into a couple who continued making out.
• guide goes, "oh we don`t use sticks to climb mountains here" and gives a naughty giggle. "only the very, very old do." he looks at some backpackers who have one for each hand like they`re off skiing and continues to say, "my mother is 85 and doesn`t use one." everytime he asks if we need more time before continuing i know he is refraining from another chortle
• South Americans could never be communists no matter what Cuba and Venezuela think. it`s because of their interior decorating. every place i`ve been to, hotel, cathedral, restaurant, has been designed by Carson. the details are amazing. toilet roll holders are specially designed, hand-woven baskets hold your soaps, your keys are hung on interesting ornaments. you`d have to kill their character in order to have them fit in with grey, rectangular, cloned designs of the commies
• of course, they could be Couture-Socialists. yay!

Peru is a place of double-edged swords. its coca are a gift and a shame. it is a well visited, remote land. its people are full of resilience in equal measure with despair. sometimes it can be a little overwhelming. it is astonishing in its beauty and it is astonishing in its poverty and the intensity of one highlights the other. tomorrow is Puno, and though technically on the Peruvian side in my mind it is the start of Bolivia thematically. Farewell Peru.

Day 4: Macchu Picchu, Peru

the trains to Macchu Picchu operated like the Titanic. there was first class with a 5 course menu, there was 2nd class with a 3 course menu, both of which had carriages modelled on the Versailles palace with solid glass ceilings. i obviously didn`t have those tickets so allow me to vent some envy. it´s a 2 hour train ride. at 9 in the morning. clearly the first two classes where intented for honeymooners, the clinically obese and hungry, hungry hippos. 3rd class was where you got a snack, had glass panelled ceilings and count all the gringoes (i dunno am i gringo or not? i hope not) 4th class is for latinos and are regular non-transparent trains and 5th class is for locals and Carrie Isgett would describe them as an Indian train packed and heading for Auschwitz.

good thing we got our shopping down earlier, as the site was a `rip-off`, though i wouldn`t call it that since the prices were now 1/2 of Western prices instead of 1/12. paying a dollar extra for water is hardly a steal. i admit i bought a lot of crap and kitsch. silver was beautiful and cheap, i added more shotglasses to my collection (wish i collected rocks instead. they are bloody delicate), a gaudy looking poncho and various woods (sigh, customs), leathers (i raise my fist at you, customs), and a musical instrument in my bag that jingles when i walk so that i resemble a reindeer. i also got a chess piece. don`t judge me, for an Asian, they are cool! a nerdy Asian thing to buy would have been an abacus.

a lot of the faces from the group were becoming familiar. here are my blaring generalisations about the different nationalities. it was nice that my group was full of people in their 30`s and upwards. there were South Africans who felt it was cold as we did, they are great for shopping companions cos they can spot fakes. there were americans and canadians, and contrary to Lonely Planet i have always found Americans to be polite, unassuming and compliant. Canadians are the same, but everybody expects it of them. personally i find Americans articulate themselves more passionately, their jokes are a little bit riskier and it makes them a little bit more engaging than their Canuck counterparts. nice people with a slight cynical streak are more interesting to me than nice people who are super agreeable. there was also your stereotypical gregarious and funny Scotsman. i`ve met ONE quiet and shy scot. he may have been raised by owls. Lastly there were Australians, but they were married and therefore not drunk and horny (not that i am, obviously, i am practicing moves on my chess set)

upon arrival i was glad i didn`t do the 4 day inca trail. despite having porters and donkeys it still looked like a lot of work involving potential malaria. someone also said the trail takes 3 hours by incan runners. way to overachieve. it started raining when we got there, relief! it meant i could opt out of climbinbg Hyuanu Picchu (the tall mountain in the back if you google image MP) by pretending to be a disappointed brave mountaineer instead of someone who throws upat heights. i would have been the girl who took 20 steps before sobbing on the ground, clawing like a crab.

i ended up scaling macchu picchu twice, once before the tour started and with the group. you see, the group included the South Africans who wore SANDALS and tights. i knew they`d take too long to get anywhere. during the second trip i imagined incan decision making.´

"you know i like this place here with the river and the crops, and fish, but something`s missing."
"life is too boring here. let us start a building some on saaaay, THAT mountain. at the very top. with boulders."
"good idea!"

(50 years later)

"what do you wanna do?"
"iarno. what do you wanna do?"
"iarno. what do you wanna do?"
"ia- dyou know, let`s make another temple,"
"why not, we`ll put it next to the 17th one. it`s been awhile since we quarried a mine"

ah, to be slight of foot and absolutely nuts.

the hotel is gorgeous. i have a balconey directly facing the gushing river and MP at the bottom of the valley. you might be thinking why on earth i booked such posh places on a mortgage and a public servant salary but i had no idea. the travel agency called it `Basic, 2 star accomodation`and i told them point blank, "listen, i would accept anything so long as it`s cheap. give me a hovel. i can sleep with farm animals." i didn`t realise in south america views came for free. i am going to go home and find my view of the motorway so sad.

Day 3- Sacred Valley, Peru

For such poquenos people they sure do have big steps in their temples. their belief system, whilst equally insane, was at least very logical in astronomical terms. they used the sun to pinpoint exact equinoxes, they laid out their temples in a direct alignment to the planets of the solar system (no pluto, they knew pluto was a fraud) and they calculated the rotation of the southern cross without any unnecessary patriotism, because they knew stars are not owned by one country, Shapelle Corby fans. ok, so they sacrificed humans and totally melodrama duyring eclipses. you would too if you digested 18 hours of coke.

lost my second inflatable neck pillow. i know nobody cares but i wonder how i could possibly lose something that is so big, i mean, i lose them whilst INFLATED for flying fracking sake.

at the buffet lunch i had more morada, this purple drink made of corn and tasting like Yacult, that yoghut drink in the small plastic bottles. the food was alright, it was strange textually since i went for dessert first. oh and one more of my Inca Kolas opened all ejaculatory over me. it is like cream soda, but yellow, so i look like the tourist with the bladder issues. i blame the driving. i mean, it´s at least 120km around a cliff, overtaking another van on the opposite lane. i try not to look wussy so i tell myself not to grip the side of the window and scream but bravely close my eles and imagine life without one leg (in the even of a car crash, leg amputation is very common). would i buy custom fitted pants stitched at the knee? (i would insist i keep a stump) or could i get away with draping it casual-chic behind the thigh? what material is best for a prosthetic?

we stopped along an animal shelter with Tucans ("OLAAAAA!"), a pen with baby Illamas, baby ducks, baby deer, and one random puppy. i pet the puppy who looks very feral. well, i won´t need a rabies shot if that leg is going to be amputated anyway. i stood between condows, which are jurassic looking birds with 3m wingspans and disposition of an emu, if it had red possessed eyes and a big rock on its head. i wouldn´t be upset if they were used for thanksgiving. there were also think pumas, peruvian dogs which were like black whippets with blonde Angelina-Adopted-Me mullets and other marsupials.

the temple with the steps reminded me of two things:
1. Vertigo and i are not on speaking terms
2. Thighs dislike steps that go up and calves punish you later for steps that go down.

illamas are standing around all smug, with expressions of, "you´re standing on my lunch, bitches."

hotel is picturesque, the view includes snow-capped mountains and ceramic houses, all of which i am told, like my hotel, have TV, telephone, internet and ´menopausal hot water systems´, no really, the Andean guide with broken english said that. he also got a nice tip.

Day 2: Cuzco, Peru

even when i saw it from the plane i knew it looked like nothing i´d ever seen before. it was from another planet. not unusual, not strange, not a bit peculiar, i mean it was sci-fi, ridiculous, fantasy land. endless shades of green, winding roads, sheer drops, valleys, i don´t know why i´m listing those becauuse new words need to be invented to describe Cuzco. it is Foxobble, which means it has very narrow streets with hidden shops and secrets. it is Flappytastico, which means their mountains are so towering i theorise the locals can actually fly, since i don´t know how they get around. those illamas and alpacas are pretty much lazy, furry labradors with expressions of petulance and perturbed suspicion.

my flying theory was explained by way of coco leaves. you chew them with a little bit of black-sticky stuff and then feel like a kenyan marathoner. i hear the locals chew them 18 hours a day, between industrial wine and then dying 20 years younger than the national mortality rates. it appears Andeans, Indians, Aborigines and every other colonised indigenous group are brusquillos of sorts.

Cuzco unfortunately had more cathedrals as a part of their tour, luckily they had so much alien landscape. this time the guide caught on quick, and was very paternal, Latino versrion of President Bartlet way.
"what time we meeting tomorrow?"
"one...two...three...?"
"you are counting"
"one...thirty...five"
"you are guessing!"
"an illama!"
"stop looking at the illama, you have forgotten the timing and you are not listening! where is card i give you of my telephone number?"
"it´s, it´s here...*pats around feebly*"
"you list it! here another. put in underwear this time. no talking to the dress up people. no talking to vendors. no talking to illamas. where the oxygen tank that lady give?"
"i gave it back. por favor, i liik so silly, no one else has one"
"you will look silly flat on floor! ok fine. i give you alcohol. sniff. sniff harder!"
he quized me a bit more. i left him a generous tip.

i feel like i should justify what a pansy i was, snorting alcoholic fumes and turning off-yellow. if i were to stand on the tallest mountain of Australia, it would still be 1km underground in Cuzco. if i were Dutch, i´d be hallucinating.

for dinner i had guinea pig from a restaurant which donated profits to local orphanges. there were 2 backpacking hippies playing the guitar and photos of orphans everywhere. the meat was better than the music and less depressing than the orphans were were shoeless as Mt Druit teenagers. It was however not as good as everyone worked it up to be. later i saw a guinea pig farm (and wish i hadn´t, they were of course, cute), will add photos later. it was a clay castle with 3 levels, balconeys, towers, crossing bridges and they were happy as can be very HG Wells´ Time Machine. oh such a deceptive, free-range life they lead.

hotel was amazing, i think i saw elves. internet was great but i still have trouble finding the elusive apostrophe, hot water works if left on for 10 minutes, i know because i stood in cold water for 9 (i was optimistic) before using a hair dryer to warn myself up. not sure how i didn´t electrocute myself, will investigate properties of protons and electrons later.

Day 1- Lima, Peru

I stayed in Miraflores, a suburban place free from child prostitution, street-side cocaine and ´brusquillos´(positive that´s NOT how you spell it) at discotheques, in the words of another savy tour guide (just so my mother knows, the tour did have other humans so no kidney removal was going to be extracted). a brusquillo or however it´s spelt, is a kind of bridge, given to hot latinos who dress up and seduce foreigners for their marriages and visas. how euphemistic is that? sounds so much nicer that mail-order bride, no?

the tour itself was the usual fair, ruins, plazas, changing guards, cathedrals, catatombs (please people bury your dead in the ground) and obnoxious unabashed display of the Catholic church´s wealth from extortion, etc etc. everytime some WASPy American is awed by large, magnificent cathedrals i bite my tongue from saying, really? you LIKE how they make you feel small, irrelevant and guilty helplessness? more than money and greed and sin-free, easy protestantism? but since most people on the tour were full of Catholic pathos and easily outnumbered me i simply appreciated the busts of Jesus and his various poses during death.

there was a beach nearby, where normally there´s sand there is instead rock, lots of them. when the tide pulls back they sound like a deep fryer. the place was full of very white tourists and a small asian who is looking for where the deep fryer is.

food is cheap. had a seafood platter with pisco cocktail for 15 aud. ended up walking home at 10, lost time sampling cubans (they all tasted like smoke), was surprised by how safe it was. i did carry a switch blade on me (11 aud), but besides the horde of beautiful joggers and dog walkers no one was out. the cars still beeped but i learnt by then that was their way of saying, "hello, i am a machismo minded male showing everyone how heterosexual i am by honking at every vag i pass, good day!"

called mother who told me Manny seemed sad. i´m not those losers who anthropomorphises their pets. i know she doesn´t miss me. i know she only wants to know what happened in the next episode of Battlestar and if Adama and Roslin get it on.

the hot water was hot. for 5 minutes. the internet is fast.

Da -1: The Long Sojourn

spent about 18 hours flying, 8 layovering, and still hate airports. still hate brightly lit perfume departments, still hate parents who insist on dragging their orchestral foetuses around, still hate bogan Aussie men talking about their Contiki one-night stand, still hate being served meals just as i fall asleep, but as the comedian Louis CK puts it, tons of shit in the air is still a miracle.

would like to marry my inflatable pillow, will petition the gays to add pillows to list of things which a civil union simply will not express one´s eternal bond.

promtply lost said betrothed. i hope some chilean hobo enjoys your airy company.

The travel agency are amazing. i admit i liked being picked up and put down, not worring about bills, but i adore their guides. the one greeting me knew very quickly when to be tactful.
"So Catarina, what is it youdo?"
"I teach"
"Oh so young" *sympathetic face* "What you teach?"
"History"
"Inca?"
"Yes", what? eating nachos count. and i´m not being rude with my singular syllabic replies, but this was after he had asked me the extent of my Spanish, which consisted of: donde esta la biblioteca, ¨l´aranga, discotheca, buenos dias" and i stopped myself from saying "Cameron Dias" because she isn´t Spanish. after that i felt i should be showing off by speaking so much Ingles
"You must go to Museo Archaeology!"
"ok"
"and next to it is Museo of Peruvian History, and next to that is National Art Gallery, and-"
"can i be honest? i don´t actually like museums or galleries...*quietly*...or information really"
"but you teacher!"
"Well, ok, do breweries count?"
"you HISTORY teacher!"
"i know"

i gave me a pat on the shouldersso after arrivng in South America for half an hour i had irreversibly damaged our national education image