Di Rosa's World

Hunting for Moose in New Hampshire

dirosa — Tue, 19 Oct 2010 04:54:00 GMT

One of the reasons to visit New England is to witness the wildlife.

The locals would regularly tell me they see bears all the time and how they constantly had to swerve for Moose on the roads. To them it was no big deal, but for me, I had never seen a Bear in the wild or a Moose...anywhere!

Until......

One sunny afternoon as we drove back to our B&B we noticed a few people standing outside their cars snapping away with their cameras. Jonny and I quickly jumped out the car to see what was going on.

I squinted my eyes to try and focus on the spectacle in the woods in the near distance.

'It's a Bear' screamed a lady standing next to me. 'A Bear with two baby cubs'

I squinted my eyes a little more, and finally I began to see the vision in the distance. A black mother Bear with her two small baby cubs. I kept laughing in disbelief, pointing and yelling at Jonny wanting him to see what I could see.

The two little cubs were rolling around jumping on each other, playing near their mother who just stood and sniffed the air. Eventually the mother must have sensed people were watching and they all stumbled deeper into the woods.

What a buzz that gave me. Seeing animals in their habitat, in the wild is an amazing experience. It fills me with such excitement and joy.

Jonny and I decided before we left New England we had to see a Moose. So that evening we were on a mission to hunt down a Moose and shoot one..with a camera of course!!

We set off at dusk and drove north of our lodgings in the cold, dark, evening in the Fall. Jonny with his camera at his side and me a torch.

We were advised to shine the torch into the woods, 'When you see two small shiny lights, that will be the Moose's eyes glowing from the darkness into the light.' advised the locals.

As we drove for hours, I shone the torch out of the window into the darkness, however nothing stirred in the isolated dark cold terrain.

In search of glowing eyes we kept driving and driving, there must be a Moose in the woods somewhere!

Nothing! Feeling the cold wind fiercely penetrate my face, hands and fingers I couldn't search any longer. Jonny tired from the driving in the darkness also felt defeated.

We turned the car round and took the long drive back in the pitch blackness of the night utterly gutted! We both relied on the radio to entertain us. (Not so sure about the 'Ha oooo Werewolves in London' track though by Warren Zevon!)

Then suddenly Jonny slammed his foot on the brake, something was on the road, something big.

'What is it?' Jonny shouted 'What the hell is it Maria?'

As our eyes adjusted to the darkness, that's where it stood. The tall brown, New England Moose.

'It is a Moose' I cried, 'at last a Moose!'

Jonny fumbled for his camera, but it was too late, the Moose quickly ran back into the woods.

I wheeled my window down and shone the torch into the darkness of the woods, 'where are you?' I whispered 'where are those eyes of yours?'

Suddenly two shiny bright white eyes sparkled in the night, my little moose was looking straight at me! She just stood there partly hidden by the trees and the darkness, but I could see her. Her face, her ears twitching, her eyes staring straight at me, they just kept glowing in the darkness, she was an inquisitive thing, she wouldn't move, she wasn't afraid, but intrigued by us, as we were of her.

It was a beautiful creature and a beautiful moment.

Mission accomplished we headed back to our beds, safe in the knowledge we would sleep content that night.

The next morning we were both raring to go and sat down to our first home cooked hot breakfast, made for us by the owner of the B&B.

'Mmmm sausages, I haven't eaten sausages in ages, they taste so good' I thought.

'I hope you like your sausages' said the lady, 'it's Moose!'

Brazilian Secret

dirosa — Tue, 14 Sep 2010 23:40:00 GMT

The Brazilian girls are known all over the world for their tanned curvacious bodies and general sex appeal.

They all seem to have pert butts and flat stomachs and let's face it, men love them and woman hate them!

Old Frankie Sinatra even sang songs about these seductive and alluring Latino ladies strolling along Ipanema Beach.

Well my friends do not be fooled! I have found them out! Their little secret!

You all know about silicone filled bras, well these tanned babes wear silicone filled panties! Yes knickers with two chicken fillets positioned right on the cheek of your butt to give the allusion of a perfectly pert bottom.

Now anyone can have a Brazilian bum! Retailing at approx $60, these little skimpies are so popular among the Brazilian girls they have them in every colour and pattern imaginable and they even come in waterproofs and....wait for it, BRIEFS!

Yes the Brazilian Secret Panties, as owned by every tanned beauty in Brazil......not so secret anymore hey!!

1 Reason Why I Love Americans – The American Dream

dirosa — Sat, 22 Dec 2007 04:46:00 GMT

I have travelled extensively through the States, some parts I can’t stop raving on about.

I’m looking forward to returning one day soon. Returning to eat Cuban food in Miami... roller blading along the beach in LA...singing the full rendition of New York, New York for the first time when seeing the amazing skyline from my hotel window... throwing the colourful New England autumn leaves in the air....so many happy memories. The small things you never forget about a place. I had so many in the States.

What I particularly like about America/Americans is the ‘can do’ attitude they have, where anything is possible as long as you are willing to make it happen, ‘The American Dream’!

The American Dream, the way I see it, is, it’s not about how much money you’re born into or what postcode you have but making those dreams become a reality. It is an inspiring, aspirational and humbling mentality.

There are countless rags to riches tales about someone rising out of humble beginnings and making it big time. Americans are optimistic, enthusiastic and positive people who love to see people being given a chance to make a better life.

Due to bad politics, America has had a lot of bad press in the last few years and the popularity of the country and its people have taken a nose dive but I’m here to recognise despite all the little nuances that get on my nerves, despite all the bullshit, I praise the people and it’s nation.

So in continuation from my last journal post, which was mostly written in jest, I would like to stress, there are by far more positives to come out of the USA than negatives and I cannot wait for my return.

5 Reasons Why I Love to Bitch About Americans!

dirosa — Wed, 19 Dec 2007 04:21:00 GMT

Reason 1 - Immigration.

As I arrived in JFK Airport, New York early hours of the morning, I was the only traveller from the Lima, Peru flight to take the non-resident side of immigration control.

The gentleman, who called me to his desk with a simple head movement, looked me up and down with disdain. I gave him the immigration slip given to me on the flight and tried to stay calm. He looked at my passport intently and asked me where my visa was? He then told me sternly to go away and complete the correct visa waiver form and only come back when it's done!

On the four rows of tables I searched for the correct green coloured form but found only two which were in Spanish!

I asked a lady officer if it was the correct slip and she told me yes. I explained to her I could not complete it as it was not in English! She just looked at me like I was an idiot and told me to ‘go back and get one in English then’, and stormed off!

I approached immigration again with my non English form and informed the officer all the slips had gone. He handed me a new form (in English) from a pile he had and told me to come back when it was completed!

I thought hold on a minute, why didn't he just give me a form to complete in the first instance? Was I not worthy enough to assist? Was it too much effort for him to pick one from his huge pile and give it to me?

After the 3rd time of going back to immigration, I then had the full interrogation: 'Why was I visiting the States?' 'How long am I in the States for?' 'Where have I travelled from?' 'Do I have accommodation?' 'What was my purpose in the States?' 'When am I returning home?' 'Am I travelling alone?' 'Where am I travelling to after NY?' 'What do I do for a living?' He was taking the piss!!

When the officer asked me 'What nationality are you?' I thought, you have my passport in your hand, you twat!

I was asked the same questions by four different officers over and over before they allowed me to leave the airport. In total I was at Immigration for an hour.

The overall attitude towards me was like I was a criminal. It was like they were doing me a generous favour by allowing me to visit their country.

It was not a warm American welcome and I already began to resent my decission to visit the States. I would be spending lots of money and contributing towards their economy yet they are treating me like a criminal!

I explained four times I was on a world trip, that was easy to see from my passport. I am a British citizen. I have come to head to New England for the Fall.

Then it hit me! These boys are a little bored! Perhaps they had no action in the airport tonight? They were looking for some drama to spice up their uneventful day at work! They were looking for a problem.

Do Americans believe everyone wants to stay in their country? Do they think I would not want to leave a country high in crime, homelessness, mental health and obesity?

A country where only 1 in 5 Americans hold a passport? A country where Americans still stand devided by race, religion and colour? A country run by a cowboy called Bush??

I am very happy to visit the States on holiday but I am more than happy to return home.

Reason 2 - Speaking a foreign language!

When visiting a foreign country I suspected there would be language difficulties.

In Singapore I relied on pictures and pointing to be understood, in Argentina I spoke in Italian 80% of the time and in Brazil I used lots and lots of hand gestures! but America, surely I would have no worries there? WRONG!!!

It would seem the only hand gestures the Americans understand is the middle finger!

Why is it lots of Americans do not understand me when I speak to them? I can understand them despite how heavy their accent! So what exactly am I doing wrong? Or saying wrongly?

Simple requests are turned into a big ordeal and rather embarrassing situations for me, no matter how slowly and accurately I speak they look at me like I am an alien!

Words becomes frustrating, like Oatmeal, yoghurt, water and tuna or toona, it makes no difference how many times I change the pronunciation, there is a block in communication. They obviously do not understand the mother language!

The strange thing is lots of foreign people who live in America do understand me and I can have a proper conversation. Perhaps that's because they learnt proper English!

Reason 3 – Food Culture

Apart from the ethnic areas, communities inside the States, I have found eating meals in the US a difficulty.

I wouldn't consider myself a food snob or a fussy eater. I am from a family who love to eat and it's fair to say it is one of our great enjoyments in life. But not just any food!!

I am sick to death of eating humongous hamburgers and hotdogs which repeat on me for the rest of the day! I am sick of blue cheese dip on salads, what ever happened to simple olive oil and lemon??

I am absolutely sick of clam chowder, nothing but sickly, creamy, gloopy clam chowder in New England! I am sickened by greasy, excessively cheesy, soggy Nachos which appear on every menu!

Yes I am sick of cream in watery coffee and yes I am sick of seeing Dunkin Donuts everywhere!!

There isn't much variation in the States, just lots of hamburgers, pizzas, Caesar or cobb salad and lots and lots of cheese over everything!

I like Cinnamon, but cinnamon is used here like salt is used as a seasoning! Cinnamon cookies, cinnamon bread, cinnamon muffins, cinnamon over coffee, cinnamon over pizza, yes I like cinnamon but please!

Let’s talk size! Everything is massive. Take a tip from me and never ask for a large portion of anything. A small is a large and a large is a ....a mountain!

Why does every meal have to be HUGE enough to feed me, my brother, my sister and our five thousand cousins?!!

When I ordered a Brownie as a desert in New Hampshire I was expecting a slice of brownie, am I stupid or what?

What I got was a huuuuuge 4 piece brownie collection, drenched in chocolate sauce, covered in whipped cream and with lashings and lashings of hundreds and thousands.

Let’s just say, it was a little excessive!! The lady's eyes next to me nearly popped out of her head as she saw it, she smiled and licked her lips in desire.

I on the other hand thought 'what the hell do they think I am? A human vacuum?'

All that was missing was a Maraschino cherry!

Reason 4 - whiny voices

Answer me this? When in a group of mixed nationalities which voice can be heard first?

Who speaks the loudest? Who sounds like they are whinging? Well it isn't the Thai's now is it?

Yes the Americans! The ever so confident and 'I want everyone to hear what I'm saying' Americans!

Be honest with me, do you find it annoying as hell, like I do?

Why do lots of Americans think people want to hear their conversations? or their voices for that matter! Why can't Americans be reserved or discreet?

I tend to think they are vying for attention, they all believe they are in a Hollywood blockbuster and they want to be spotted by Steven Spielberg and star in his next big movie spectacular. Or were the first English and European settlers all loud mouthed yobbos?

Was that one of the significant reasons why they decided to leave good old Blighty, they just couldn't go on living a lie! It was far too quiet and sophisticated for them!

Perhaps God created the Americans with not just a huge appetite for food but whopping big mouths as well! Whine, whine, whine, that's what it sounds like when they speak. Whinge, whinge, whinge, it is driving me insane! I feel like telling them all to shut up and put a sock in it, but I fear the sock wouldn't be big enough!

Reason 5 - Americanisation of the world

What is one of the first things you see when you enter a foreign city? Starbucks? Burger King? Perhaps it is Mc Donald's?

Why would we choose to have a mug of coffee in Starbucks instead of drinking proper coffee in a privately owned cafe?

Why do we put small private establishments out of business by choosing the huge American chain Starbucks? Do we think Starbucks gives us the best tasting Cappuccino?

Or are we all sheep? We don't care where we drink coffee we just want a cup of coffee.

We don't even think about where we should go! Starbucks is there, so we go! Our choice is taken away from us. Our minds have been made up for us! And like the sheep we are, we follow! We think 'it is American so it must be good!'

So why do our governments allow more and more of these huge American conglomerates to set up another store in our high street?

Why do we have on every high street a Mc Donald's or/and a Burger King? Do we as non Americans really want this?

What ever happened to the traditional Pie & Mash shops in London and the Fish & Chip shops all over Britain? They have all been replaced by an American fast food chains.

England is known all over the world for fish and chips, it is supposed to be our national dish but there is more chance of buying a Big Mac than there is a piece of cod.

I feel American ideology is being pushed on the rest of the world and we are slowly becoming more and more American. We even watch their trashy tv and we are emulating their culture and even their slang.

My concern is that we as Britain or as Europe or other parts of the world are losing our own great identities, flaws and all and we are becoming a mini America.

We should promote our own heritage, history, food, media, traditions, our own identity as a nation.

Wouldn't it be such a sad thing if everyone in the world was the same. If every country in the world was the same? Wouldn't the world be a boring place?

So lets stop bowing down to the Americans. Lets stop copying them and start to be proud of our own nationality.

Why can't Britain as a nation grow a pair of balls like the French and be British again

Peru, an ancient civilisation

dirosa — Sat, 17 Nov 2007 23:35:00 GMT

Cuzco in Peru is a pretty, atmospheric, historical town perched high 3500 meters above sea level. Anything above 2000 meters above sea level can lead to altitude sickness and when Jonny and I arrived in Cuzco we instantly felt the pressure in our heads and a sickness in our stomachs.

One is advised to rest in Cuzco for at least 3 days before attempting any major activities.

It is no wonder the Spanish came in the 1500s but could not reach all the villages high in the mountains. Perhaps that explains why Peru unlike any other Latin American country has retained so much of its original culture and traditions.

The Peruvians too, unlike any other Latin American country have a distinct look about them and have not mixed or lost their distinct appearance.

One of the many traditions still maintained by the Peruvians particularly in Cuzco is the handicrafts, especially knitting. On every street corner, shops, market stalls, you will find people trying to sell you their traditional authentic brightly coloured knit wares in mainly Alpaca or Lama wool.

Machu Pichu was the main reason why we visited Peru and although extremely stunning and a definite must see, Peru is full of forgotten and secret temples, ruins, cities, churches and monuments giving insight to an ancient civilisation.

Peru is so rich in history and culture, it is a country I will definitely visit again and recommend to my culture loving friends.

Amazing Amazon

dirosa — Sat, 17 Nov 2007 23:31:00 GMT

This was it, my ultimate test, the Amazonian Jungle! I had reached the time to tackle my ultimate fears head on and take the Amazonia challenge....

I have always been a scaredy pants when it comes down to creepy crawlies. Before I left London, if I discovered a spider in my bath I just simply called my landlord to remove it, I could not possibly deal with such horrific circumstances.

I kept asking myself then, how the hell was I going to survive this experience? How the hell was I going to maintain my sanity? Why the hell am I doing this? I don't have to prove myself to anyone?

I know plenty of girls who have arachnophobia but none of them would choose to stay deep in the Amazon jungle for a week, unlike me!

And to be blunt it's not just the spiders that petrify me, but of every living insect. You name it, I hate it!

Every step closer to the jungle, I kept thinking perhaps there was a way out, perhaps I could just meet Jonny when it was all over on the other side? I knew though, I couldn't do that. I wanted to prove to myself I could do this. For me it would be a personal achievement, some might say a personal sadistic achievement, but an achievement all the same!

After a three hour journey by car, boat, coach and canoe we reached our wooden lodges deep into the Amazon rain forest. My wooden boudoir (not!) was complete with a bed and holey mosquito net and a separate toilet and cold shower, oh and not to mention the resident spider!!

The light in the lodge only lasted for 15 minutes each evening and always went out as I arranged the mossy net, leaving me in total darkness. The sounds outside were magnified to make me believe it was coming from just above my head!

The rustling sounds on the roof and ticking noises coming from the wooden panels, the sounds of monkeys and of birds, roosters’ cockadoodling all night long and cows mooing until the early hours of the morning, kept me from having any sleep.

The heat and humidity was unbearable, no matter how many cold showers I took I could not cool down. The mosquitoes were fierce and relentless, making the environment harsh and difficult.

Our days were spent fishing for piranhas, which was really fun and highly addictive once you got a nibble, hunting for caimans, meeting and visiting the local river people and jungle trekking.

The jungle trek was the hardest trek I've ever done in my life, the heat and constant humidity made it difficult for me to keep up and my clothes were dripping with sweat after just an hour. This is where Jonny ate a grub and pretended to like it!

When you are in such a hard environment it would be pointless for me to run away from every creepy crawly in sight. I just had to deal with it and survive whether I liked it or not, I simply didn't have a choice.

The Amazon was my biggest challenge but I am pleased to say I made it out alive and quite enjoyed the experience.

I was the only female in the group and although I struggled at times I think I can say, I kicked some Amazon ass!

Favelas – The Story of Brasil

dirosa — Tue, 30 Oct 2007 23:22:00 GMT

What is a true Brazilian?

The country is so diverse with a strong mix of Portuguese, African, Native Indian amongst many others that it is true to say a true Brazilian does not have white or black skin, brown or blue eyes. Brazil is the most mixed and exotic a nation I have ever seen before.

Discrimination in Brazil exists but it is based on a class system.

The rich and middle classes live a fantastic lifestyle of good food, good clothes, they have it all and experience the very best, whereas the poor live on the streets or in Favelas scattered all over the country.

Outside South Africa, the worst poverty I have seen was in Salvador, where 70% of the people live in Favelas. We were approached every 10 mins for money and for food.

When children are begging for food and not money it is hard to say no and it is heart breaking to witness. On one occasion I threw a sandwich in the bin and then felt terribly guilty and upset for doing so, when I could have given it to a child who probably can't remember their last meal.

The poorer you are the higher on the hills you live, farther away from the city, farther outside of the community. It is strange that the best views of the city of Rio can be seen from the poorest peoples houses.

Most people living in Favelas or Shanty Towns live on a pittance of food tokens roughly of 25 dollars per week. How they survive is down to their own devices, some use crime, some just by scraping by.

Favelas are built by the people who live in them illegally but have been accepted by the government so they don´t have to do anything about this huge problem. The government allowing Favelas to continue is allowing the poverty to continue and keep its inhabitants outside of normal society.

There isn´t a government programme to assist them. There isn´t a welfare system or a council housing waiting list. The poor people living in a favela are the bottom of the road. The lowest you can be. Most people born in a favela die in a favela.

Most of the people living in the Favelas cannot read or write and little children as young as 6 are sent by their parents to beg for money. It would seem more sensible for a father to have his child bring in a small amount to contribute to the table than have him educated.

It would seem there is no hope and the poor accept, this is their place in society. Which brings the endless cycle of no hope, no education, no future, and no change.

Most middle class Brazilians would not have anything to do with a Favela because of their bad reputation, favelas are seen as dangerous but this is not so true, yes there is crime committed by these people but mostly in the city. Where there is poverty there is crime.

The Favelas are usually run by drug barons who keep it in order, why commit crimes amongst your own?

There are rich and poor people all over the world but the divide in Brasil is so unjust. It would seem another corrupt government is happy to feed itself fat while others are literally starving to death.

My only hope is something positive happens or someone truly decides to make a change in the positive direction. Than Brasil truly would be a great nation.

Sexy Sexy Sexy - Rio de Janeiro

dirosa — Tue, 30 Oct 2007 23:11:00 GMT

After a gruesome journey from Buones Aires, we arrived in Rio at 1.00am.

Already I felt a change in the air from Argentina. The people with their European, African and Native Indian blood resulted in a glamorous and exotic blend, the climate very hot and the language, well bloody difficult!

Portuguese for me is a difficult language to follow and the Brazilian Portuguese is even harder with their use of Jjs and Hhs. Spanish for me is far easier, so to say we were going to struggle communicating is an understatement.

The taxi ride to our hotel although dark outside filled me with an electric vibe I hadn’t felt before, Rio had something I couldn´t quite explain but whatever it was, I liked what I was feeling.

The following day we explored the famous Copacabana. The weather was beautifully hot; well this is the tropics after all. Exotic fruits were sold on most street corners and Samba music filled the air. The energy to the city was amazing.

The city has literally been carved out of a mountain and the lush green hills surround Copacabana and Ipanema. The panoramic views are spectacular, in particular the vision of Christ the Redeemer looking down on all those who visit the city. The other one being Sugar loaf mountain, the best views can be seen from the top. The city is also made up of Favelas scattered across the hills. All of this adds to the beautiful charm of the city.

In Argentina it was difficult to eat a healthy diet but here with so much fruit and salads it was great. Paw Paws and Melons were served every day for breakfast and one could finally order a salad as a main (unlike Argentina where this is unheard of). Finally I can shed some of those extra pounds and feel like me again!

Ipanema is more upmarket than Copacabana and most of the restaurants, bars and cafes were here but Copacabana was still a great place to stroll around, do some shopping, and perhaps hire a bike and ride down to Sugar Loaf.

The only down side to Rio was it was very busy and the beaches were unfortunately packed full especially at the weekends. It literally was a case of finding a spot of sand amongst everyone else, which was not my idea of a relaxing day on the beach.

Rio de Janeiro is dramatically stunning although a little pretentious at times. Everyone on the beaches in Rio checks everyone out. And if you are a woman who isn´t wearing a thong than something has to be wrong!!

Rio is an excellent city to glam it up, party and get in shape and experience a totally different culture. I was expecting the Brazilians to be loud, uncouth and in your face but despite the odd one or two I found them to be humble, genuine, sociable people, and bloody attractive to boot! Damn it

Last Tango In....Buenos Aires!

dirosa — Thu, 18 Oct 2007 23:04:00 GMT

The Tango developed in the city of Buenos Aires in the 1800ś. The Tango had a bad reputation among the higher classes ruling Argentinean society at the time as it was seen as a vulgar dance.

Crowds would gather at night for the practice of the dance. Regardless of its poor origins Tango, in time, developed into a national habit and for many decades was the favorite pastime of just about anybody living in Buenos Aires.

The Argentinean Tango is a phenomenal dance between two people fighting their inner passion for one another.

The classical dance is very much still a major part of Argentinean culture. The alluring sound of the Accordion is heard whilst amateurs dance in the streets for a few pesos.

The bars in Buenos Aires are filled with the Tango and one can go along to an open Millonga (dance lesson).

The Tango cannot be ignored. So when in Buenos Aires one should do as an Argentinean and dance the night away with passion and intensity.

What better way to end my Argentinean trip!

Iguacu Falls - A sign from God?

dirosa — Sat, 13 Oct 2007 22:30:00 GMT

Since being in Argentina I had heard so many times how I must go and see Iguaçu Falls in the north east of the country. I had seen pictures and postcards of the falls but nothing would prepare me for what I was about to experience.

My eyes had not seen before Iguaçu.

Iguaçu or Cataratas as the natives call it is a 275 range of waterfalls and is the largest range in the world.

Walking through the national park was heavenly. Tropical green plants and trees with pretty colourful birds like Toucans and bright iridescent pink butterflies, can there be anything more amazing than this?

This Eden like walk led us to the Gargantua Del Diablo, translated as The Devils Throat. This waterfall is a huge white fiercely raging beast thundering down into a peaceful clear blue inviting river.

Surrounded by a clear blue sky and perfect white fluffy clouds I am in the presence of something only God could have created, a perfect miracle. My words cannot describe its sheer power and fierce beauty.

I was at the time left gasping in amazement, speechless in awe of this spectacular vision. One cannot speak in the face of such magnificence. My eyes had been blind until then. The only sound heard was of the thundering waters plunging below.

I was so insignificant, so small, so powerless, and so submissive in the face of the Gargantua Del Diablo. This is the reason why I chose to travel.

It is a part of my history now but something I will never forget. A piece of time so memorable it will always remain with me. The heavens above opened up and shone a light down to me and awakened my soul.

Iguaçu a natural wonder of the world, I feel blessed.

Searching for Sex in Buenos Aires

dirosa — Mon, 8 Oct 2007 22:18:00 GMT

It was lunch time in Buenos Aires and we both fancied eating one of the local specialities, a Tostado, which is like a toastie sandwich.

As we roamed the streets looking for a suitable establishment, our eyes stumbled on a smart looking cafe called New Orleans. We looked through the cafe's steamy windows and spotted a lady gobbling down a Tostado. Both licking our lips with enthusiasm we decided to go in.

I noticed upon entering how popular this particular cafe was with lone females and I thought I had made a good choice!

Jonny, realising we didn't have enough change, disappeared to find a nearby cash machine whilst I proceeded to order.

As I sat watching the world go by (BA is a great place to people watch!) I noticed how glamorous these Argentinean ladies were, with their newly applied lipsticks and well-groomed hair. Nearly hypnotized by a huge pair of pushed up bosoms I took another sip of my strong South American coffee.

I noticed a young man who was sitting in the corner of the cafe, staring at me; yes me? I felt my cheeks burn red as the gentleman had no shame in blatantly staring at me. Determined to catch my attention, he refused to look away or even blink. I thought to myself ’typical I am alone in Latin America for two minutes and the men here go hysterical, they are like dogs on heat!'

After giving the young man a few of my classic ´don't even think about it’ looks, I must admit I was a little offended how easily he gave up on me and moved on to the lady sitting to my left.

He must have received good eye contact back because in the next minute he got up from his corner and walked over to her, sat with her, stroking her hand, she giggling out loud!

I was quite intrigued as to how the Argentineans were operating and couldn't stop watching this animal instinct behaviour unfolding in front of me.

After 5 minutes of non stop flirtation they actually both got up and left the cafe together! Wow! I thought, that man was on a mission, a mission to pull. Can’t say I have ever seen a man pull more successfully than him before!!

After long last my food arrived and after contemplating if I should wait for Jonny to arrive before scoffing, I decided nah sod it I’m hungry! As I took my first bite from my tasty Tostado, an older chap walked over to me and with a twinkle in his eyes asked me something in Spanish. Unfortunately all I could understand was ´Quanta Costa? ´

I tried to explain to the elderly gentleman the tostado cost 12pesos but the gentleman simply shrugged his shoulders, laughed and sat opposite me at my table!

Looking at the gentleman in confusion but not wanting to offend, I tried to explain to him in my best Spanish, I was expecting someone and the seat was taken but the old man just kept smiling?? Perhaps my Spanish was worse than I thought! Has this gentleman completely misunderstood me?

Hmmm I thought, could it be possible that this nice old man wants something more from me???

Whilst trying to fathom this strange behaviour out, I noticed from the corner of my eye another man whispering sweet something’s into a pretty blonde girls ear and then slip a bundle of bank notes into her delicate hand. When they both left the cafe together, it all started to make sense.

These glamorous Argentinean women are........prostitutes! No surely not? Yes working girls at work.

As it all became clear, Jonny walked through the doors. He looked bewildered when he noticed I had company. Waiting for an introduction, I quickly explained using the best vocal I could ´Jonny this old bloke thinks I'm a hooker!'

Unfortunately the elderly gentleman started to become a little agitated at this point, waving his arms in the air screaming ´Vamos, Vamos.´

Let’s just say we left the gentleman and the cafe a little disappointingly.

So in Buenos Aires working women make agreements with cafe owners to allow them to tout for business, as long as they buy drinks and food and most of all keep it respectable.

Sex in Argentina especially Buones Aires is much freer and open. The men are quite macho whilst woman use their sexuality to get what they want.

In most street plazas you will see many different spectacles, they are all at it! And the culture to sex is very different to that of the reserved British.

As for me with all this rumpy pumpy going on I´m going to need a good long stiff one.........drink that is!!!

Buenos Aires means Good Air...hmmm how ironic!

dirosa — Fri, 5 Oct 2007 21:25:00 GMT

After 3 flights, 24 hours later I arrive in Buenos Aires, Argentina at 3.30am.

It was funny how quick I got through passport control, all the official asked me was "Tourista?" all I had to say was "Si, soy tourista" and my friends that was it!!

No further questions asked. The Argentinians didn't want to know what I was doing in Argentina. How long I was staying for? Where I was staying? Nothing! Nada!! That was the quickest passport control I have ever experienced.

I guess if an Argentinean doesn't give a shit that day, than they really don´t give a shit! Oh well all the better for me.

Jonny waiting on the other side was expecting a walking zombie but on the contrary I was on a high and my body and mind had no idea what time of the day it was. All I wanted to do was talk non stop Los Angeles.

The next day, or later that day, body clock still messed up, we attempted to explore Buenos Aires.

Buenos Aires is supposed to be the most cosmopolitan city of all of Latin America and Argentina is supposed to be the most developed.

Buenos Aires is made of neighbourhoods, El Centre, Palermo, La Boca and a few others I can´t remember!! The nicest of all the areas is Palermo as the streets are cleaner and has more of an upmarket feel and the architecture is classically Spanish.

However in general Buenos Aires is quite polluted which is quite ironic considering Buenos Aires means 'good air’’ B A is also very crowded and I found it to be a little stressful and claustrophobic.

There is a strong European influence here with Spanish and Italian descendants. In fact there was an influx of Spanish and Italians in the 1800´s and again in the 1930´s. It has been said that Argentineans speak Spanish with an Italian accent!

I do not know much Spanish and I must admit I´m trying to get by with Italian!! Which works only combined with sign language.... sometimes!!

Buenos Aires is packed full with cafes and restaurants and it would seem the Argentineans take their food quite seriously. The specialty here is beef and they consume lots of it. After giving it a try I must admit, it is the best beef I have ever tasted.

On the whole though Argentinean food is either hit or miss and as long as you stick to meat based dishes you should be fine. Considering the Italian descendents I was appalled at the quality or interpretation of Italian food.

Argentineans do the worst Italian food I have ever had. One day I ordered beef lasagna to find there was no lasagna in my lasagna, just lots and lots of minced beef in salsa???

As you would imagine the Argentineans are very relaxed and take everything in their own time. The customer is never right and it is their way or no way.

Tourism is not big in these parts and trips and excursions are not as organised or easy to arrange. Everything takes long and can be complicated.

I was sad to see lots of young children roaming the streets and undergrounds begging for money, no shoes on their feet. The poor stay poor here while the rich live very comfortably in beautiful colonial apartments getting richer and fatter.

From my interpretation the European settlers came and made money here and it’s easy to see who is wealthy by the colour of their skin.

Buenos Aires seems relatively safe but a little dodgy at night. There are certain areas like La Boca one is advised not to visit however even during the day Jonny and I were followed by a female pick pocket in the safe area of Palermo and to be safe it’s important not to carry anything flash on you.

In the Plaza de Maya you will find the Casa Rosada, the political building where Eva Peron (Evita) addressed her people. However in BA there are no monuments in her honour and considering she was a national hero there isn’t much here to remember her by.

In the Recoletta I found Evita´s grave in the mist of all the other important national figures before and after her. The grand Cemetario is a show of how rich and powerful these figures were. Thousands of pounds have been lavishly laid out on extravagantly large grave stones and statues, some with a private chapel.

However Evita´s was meek and mild in comparison and it was only after circling the Cemetario for the fifth time did we happen to stumble across the small grave. If we didn't know her maiden name Eva Duarte we would have passed it completely.

Later chatting to my Argentinean friend did I learn that not all Argentineans liked Evita and my friend 'hated' her. In her words 'she ruined the country' and 'it was only the poor people who liked her'. My friend was disappointed that foreigners wanted to learn about Evita instead of all the great Argentinean artists, poets and architects.

My friend also advised me she also hated Maradona but somehow I think that is not a national opinion!!

It would seem the Argentineans or certainly the Buenos Aireans see themselves as European and do not want to be recognised as Latinos or like their neighbours the 'in your face, brash Brazilians' but as part of the sophisticated western world.

I was cynical when I first explored the city, I didn't particularly like it as it is far too polluted and dirty and over crowded.

There is a dirty underbelly of crime, prostitution and corruption here but despite all that the city and it´s people have grown on me and I’m looking forward to learning more...

Take me back to La La Land – Los Angeles

dirosa — Wed, 26 Sep 2007 21:02:00 GMT

After saying our goodbyes, Jonny and I boarded separate flights, Jonny to Chile and I to Los Angeles, USA.

I was gutted to be leaving my traveling partner and I kept telling myself it's only for four days and then we will rejoin in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

After 12 hours on the flight I arrived in the City of Angels.

Los Angeles is sixteen hours behind New Zealand due to the earth’s time line which meant I departed New Zealand in the evening and arrived in LA in the morning of the same day!! Confused? I was! But the good thing about it was I gained an extra day by crossing the earth's time line.

I was a little worried about passport control, as since 9/11, the Americans, me and passport control just don’t seem to mix well.

So at passport control I was forwarded to a desk with a Hispanic looking gentleman who sternly looked me up and down and asked for my passport. Carlos, what else could he be called? continued to look me up and down a few times and asked me to look into the eye camera and then for my fingerprints, left index finger first.

I, perhaps a little nervous, stupidly pressed my finger on the wet sponge instead of the glass! Carlos looked at me with raised eyebrows and said 'not there!!!' Carlos shook his head and I started to giggle like a naughty school child.

"Ha ha ha" I laughed "I bet you've seen that before?" Carlos not at all amused replied "I've seen and heard many things behind this desk but no one has ever done that!" Ok so Carlos must have thought I was a blundering British idiot!

Carlos then went on to ask what I was doing in LA and how long was I staying. When I told him I was on vacation for four days he just looked me deep into my eyes and said "like I said I've heard it all before!"

I thought Carlos must be having a laugh with me surely? However I wasn’t going to stick around and ask him!

The climate in LA was beautifully hot but with a very gentle breeze, perfection. Unfortunately for Jonny, in contrast Chile was very cold.

I hollered myself a cab and headed for Santa Monica home of Baywatch. My hostel was two blocks away from the beautiful beach and one block away from 3rd Street Promenade, the main shopping and eating area.

In my dorm of 5 other girls I met Cat. A cultured well traveled American. Kitty Cat and I clicked instantly and before I could unpack my case we were discussing culture, politics, work ethics and love, pretty deep stuff!

When I think about LA I just think...Cool. Generally on the whole the Americans were very friendly and efficient and helpful. I thought I would find them irritating and too full on for me but that was not the case, damn it!

One of the coolest things in Santa Monica is to walk; cycle or roller-blade, whatever takes your fancy, down the beach from Santa Monica to Venice Beach. It is not only stunning but a whole lot of fun. The closer you get to Venice the more visually wacky it all becomes but still very, very cool.

Apart from lots of alter egos strutting their stuff everywhere you turn, you will also see fortune tellers, artists, singers, Bush activists and lots and lots of people working out on the beach whether it's yoga, karate or just rollerblading, it’s true that anything goes in LA.

Venice Beach was very colourful and vibrant if not a little wacky. You will find the famous Muscle Beach here where men and women blatantly show off their muscled bodies and it is weird to imagine Arnold Schwarzenegger working out here. Now he is the governor! It could only happen in LA.

A trip to LA is not complete without taking in the sights of Hollywood, Sunset Boulevard and Beverley Hills. So I boarded a coach full of tourists and took a guided tour of the Hollywood Hills, where I saw the homes of the stars and the famous Hollywood sign.

I also went along to where the stars sometimes hang out. Can you believe I witnessed the very location where Brad Pitt used to dress up as a chicken outside a fast food restaurant, before he was famous? Am I a lucky girl or what?

I definitely got the impression that most people in LA either work in the movies or wants to be spotted. It is a little shallow but it’s still fun.

I was only in LA for 4 long days and I was surprised with how much I really liked the place. It does matter how you look and what you do and who you know and at times I did find it intimidating and superficial.

Although I couldn't live in La La Land I did walk away with a huge grin on my face and I would love to go back again.

My diet for the foreseeable future...Trout!

dirosa — Mon, 10 Sep 2007 00:57:00 GMT

Taupo has the largest lake in all of NZ, it is huge. Taupo also is the Rainbow Trout capital of NZ. I guess that means it has the largest numbers of rainbow trout?

If you are into fishing, which I am not but Jonny is obsessed (surprise surprise!) than Taupo is the place to come. I think everyone believes he or she will bag the biggest trout!

After rigorous discussions with the local fishermen Jonny determined to bag a Rainbow Trout headed to the Tongariro River to fly fish whilst I cosied up to "Lady Chatterley´s Lover" and enjoyed peace, perfect peace, at last!

When Jonny appeared over the river bank he was holding not one but two large Rainbow Trout in each hand and sporting a large grin.

Wow I was impressed not one but two humongous fish! Then it hit me, hmm this might be a tad awkward as we are staying in a Hostel, what will we do with all that fish? or how will we keep it fresh?

So we sat for 15 mins brainstormimg ways to cook Trout, we figured we had as least one week's worth of dinner sorted.

So this is our Trout menu for the week:

Creamy Trout Linguini

Mustard mash with Grilled trout

Thai noodle stir-fry with Trout

Cold Trout and egg salad

Trout patties with spinach

Trout Omelette

I would go on but I don't want to make your mouths water! besides I think you get the picture!

We prepared and consumed these dishes in the hostel with a glass of red Pinot Noir whilst our fellow hostellers were eating beans on toast and 2 minute noodles!! Were we envied? just a little!

By the end of the week it wasn´t just the kitchen that stank of fish. We were all trouted out and thanked God we were off to Argentina to eat the worlds best Beef.

On the road to Auckland - Wellington

dirosa — Fri, 7 Sep 2007 00:43:00 GMT

What a contrast the north island is to the south? Wellington the capital of NZ is a thriving cosmopolitan little town and compared to the south island there's people, lots of people!

Having been in the south island for what seemed to be an eternity. I must admit I felt like I had crossed over to a different country. Will I not witness the wonders of the south island again?

If you're into food like me than Wellington is pretty cool as not only is it the capital of NZ but it is also the cafe capital. Yes I was in my element!

You've got the best of both worlds here as the beaches are only a short drive away.

Wellington is the nicest city/town in NZ to date. It has a lot of character in it's architecture and combines sophistication with tranquility.

*Green lipped mussels in Tasting Rooms