Red Shoe Diary

Anyone fancy bodying?

zapatosrojos — Mon, 2 Apr 2012 18:35:00 GMT

It is absolutely amazing what you can do as a volunteer; or maybe not in the current political climate! My local authority has a website dedicated to volunteering so I had a scroll through and found a plethora, a magnificence of opportunities: working with people – old or young, disabled or unemployed (irony there? Maybe?!); work with animals, anything from dogs and cats to horses and monkeys, yes, I did not realise they were common in south Wales, but there you go; work in gardens at hospitals, trusts or woodlands; work in an office researching, writing or composing websites. And, for a blind-sider, how about ‘Bodying’? Job description reads: “involves mainly lying in long grass waiting to be found by a dog”. Now before some vivid imaginations start running to a Saturday night in the welsh countryside following some good Brains beer, let me clarify: you are the body and the dog searching for you is being trained by the search and rescue services. Sounds a good job though, in June, July or August, with your sunglasses, good book, sandwiches and lotion, but somehow, I don’t think it would pan out like that!

A Fair Trade Tale

zapatosrojos — Tue, 27 Mar 2012 03:46:00 GMT

Some startling numbers to process: India is about 13 times the size of Wales with 20 times more people than the whole of the UK, yet whilst an average farmer in Wales will have about 100 hectares, most farmers in India have a mere 1 hectare with which to support their family. 66% of Indians are farmers but 40% of them would gladly give up farming if they could as its all manual labour, having to make any tools they need and walking for miles for water for their plants. Sadly, some 20,000 farmers in India commit suicide every year.

It is no wonder that the work of Fair Trade is so valued amongst Mrunal Lahankar’s neighbours and friends. Fair Trade ensures that farmers get a fair price for their goods, cotton in this case. It really is that simple. With the fair price the people are empowered to organise and invest in their own community. They can re - invest in their crops, improve their farming methods and use the premium from the prices paid to improve their community. In Mrunal’s community the money has provided toilets; a water purification plant; a nursery of seeds for the women to grow and a recreation/child care centre for the youngsters to be safe whilst their parents are out in the fields. So far, 2224 farmers have been helped in Mrunal’s neighbourhood, and of course, their products are organic as they are “utilising naturally available resources” (Mrunal), not relying on pesticides or chemicals. However, due to economic fluctuations, only 30% of the cotton currently produced is sold as Fair Trade, the rest is all Fair Trade certified but cannot be sold because it is not being bought. So get down to ‘Marks and Spencers’ or ‘H&M’ to buy their Fair Trade cotton clothes from Hyderbad, India.

The Grand Slam

zapatosrojos — Sat, 17 Mar 2012 22:06:00 GMT

The excitement is electric; I have heard ‘Delilah’ at least 10 times on the radio this morning and it is only 10.a.m. as I write! Every time the word Wales is said, it is drawn out with two syllables on the A and a slight crescendo. The dragon drapes every third house in the valley and inflated daffodils abound. Sam Warburton has been on every news programme this week talking of his previous clashes with the French – on average he has lasted the first 20 minutes before going off – so we all hope that is not going to be the case this time. He is held in high esteem as a captain and player, with no blame being in any way appended to his frequent dismissals from the pitch; Sam can do no wrong! Jonathan has been offering his analysis of players, games, psychology, weather, mood, pitch and location, all leading to the conclusion that it is Wales’ game. Everyone is wearing red and game analysis conversations can be heard from the aisles of Tesco to the Royal enclosure. The welsh archbishop of Canterbury chose to announce his resignation a day before the big match, a bad move if he was looking for publicity, he is in the shadow of the Grand Slam.

One very sad note which has rung amongst the peel of expectation is the death of ‘Merv the Swerve’ as he is very affectionately known in Wales. Merv led, arguably, the best ever Wales side to Grand Slam victories in the 70s and in his honour flags at the stadium are at half-mast and players on both sides will wear black arm bands. Many are hoping that Merv’s spirit will lead the boys to victory today. And so, the big screens are being mounted in Cardiff’s streets for those without tickets; the extra trains are rolling in from north and east; roads are being closed and extra car parks created in anticipation of the phenomenal number of supporters expected in Cardiff today. The weather man says “rain”, but no one cares; French or Welsh, everyone is excited, full of expectation, anticipating a match to beat all matches; the French have their horns and cockerels hidden away on their person, the Welsh have their daffodil hats and leaks and Tom Jones lyrics ready to roll out. May the best team win? Rubbish, Come on Wa-ales!

Ice Cream

zapatosrojos — Sat, 28 Jan 2012 01:47:00 GMT

Argentina is the country of ice cream; parlours carry about 40 flavours on average and light weights (but not for long, ha ha) may take a cone, whilst the serious Argentinian will buy a tub, which is sold in 1/4, 1/2 or 1 kilo. Considering it my duty as a travellor to immerse myself in the local culture, I have been ordering 1/4 kilo tubs, which can pack in 3 flavours, and have diligently sampled the range.

There is no fixed time for ice cream, it can be taken pre breakfast (about 7.a.m.) through until post dinner (about 1.a.m.) and there is no perception that it is the food of children as groups of youths, families and friendship groups of all ages gather at the parlours to indulge their love of its creamy goodness.

Mate

zapatosrojos — Sat, 28 Jan 2012 01:46:00 GMT

Mate? A tea which EVERONE drinks here. It is drunk from a gourd shaped cup, mimmicking the gourds in which it was originally served, and drunk with a pipe-come-straw. First, pop your pipe into the gourd. The end of the pipe which sits in the cup has a flattened, perforated circumferance about the size of a 10 pence coin. Its purpose is to keep the tea leaves out of the pipe. The other end is tapered for sucking up your tea. Once the pipe is in the cup, you then pad in your mate tea leaves, dry pieces to the rim of the cup. Now pour in hot water, which firstly soaks into the tea leaves, but then starts filling the cup. After a few seconds, the tea is ready to be drunk. But, as mate drinking is a communal, sociable activity, the cup is passed around and after each person has had their fill, more hot water is added from the flask, which every Argentinian worth their merit carries, and the cup is passed along.

I have seen mate drunk all over; the tour guides on the buses pass around a cup; local bus drivers carry small camping stoves lodged next to their gear sticks to top up the gourd at each stop; on long distance bus rides passengers carry their 'take away/travelling' mate set which consists of flask, plastic gourd and straw! Hikers, on finishing their 6 hour hike always unpack the mate first and a cup is passed around before the business of setting up camp is addressed.

As for the taste, think authentic chinese green tea, strong with a slight bitter after taste, but with the essential difference that mate is caffeine loaded, which may explain why Argentinians never go to bed until about 1 in the morning!

Welsh Argentina!

zapatosrojos — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 00:30:00 GMT

It was by total chance that I spotted a picture of a welsh church on the video loop at the Esquel tourist information office as I stood forlornly in the queue and thus I ended up meeting Mr L of north Wales who moved to Patagonia some 10 years ago, following a childhood ambition to see the welsh gauchos after reading a book about them at school. But why move to Patagonia, surely that's a bit drastic? "Because its beautiful, the best place in the world; it has everything I want." Mr L was quite unwell last year but it seems the whole town participated in caring for him; "in Wales I would have been left to die", well,we must remember he lived in the north!

When he first he arrived he would have predicted that the welsh language would not last in Patagonia but over the last 3 to 4 years he feels that things have changed; Welsh has become 'cool' with not only those with welsh ancestors rolling up for classes, now they are joined by their Argentinian neighbours who want a bit of this welsh action. The community is large, with even more living in Trevelin, some 25km down the road. Trevelin advertises itself with 2 things:

1) traditional welsh afternoon teas and

2) a museum dedicated to a dead horse. Personally, I feel its promotion approach could do with a tweak ...

The Welsh Assembly promotes or supports the language in Patagonia by sending over 3 teachers a year; 1 comes to Esquel and Trevelin whilst the other 2 work in the east coast communities. In case you imagine that its all boring grammar, as I confess I did, last year's teacher ran classes in Hip Hop and chinese cooking, in Welsh to Argentinians! Maybe the culture and the language can survive in this small pocket of Argentina, and as we drove away along Owen Jones road, parallel to Darwin and Belgrano roads, I certainly hoped so.

Villa O'Higgins, the last stop

zapatosrojos — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 11:05:00 GMT

We have reached the end of the road in Patagonia, literally. The road, never paved, does not even exist in gravel form from here, so its boat or horse or foot to get across to Argentina! Villa O'Higgins, named after the general that defended Chile to independence, (together with a road in EVERY town or city in Chile!) is small and very isolated but has on its doorstep various glaciers, the most impressive of which is the - yup, you guessed it - Villa O'Higgins glacier. On crossing the lake on one of the twice weekly ferries you have the option of taking in a 5 hour detour to see the glacier; this is the trip where they 'famously' haul in a chunk of floating iceberg to chip and serve with the whiskey they give you to toast this moment. You land on the doorstep of Argentina. Some 500 meters from the dock, you pass passport control in Chile ( 2 guardas and 2 horses), then walk some 6 hours through mainly woodland before coming to the Argentinian passport control office (2 guardas and 1 large dog, sleeping). At this point you board the once daily boat across the lake or walk around it to pick up the main road (gravelled) to El Chalten, made famous by its location at the foot of the Fitz Roy ranges. We did this in summer, when the views were glorious and the weather fantastic, but its only possible for a few months a year as the bitter winter weather means this border is shut for 7 months of the year.

The Landlady

zapatosrojos — Sat, 7 Jan 2012 06:38:00 GMT

I guess that if you have lived your entire life in a town with a population of 550 you have talked through most matters with all your neighbours, so it must be good to get hold of a tourist to chat to, or certainly that seemed to be our landlady's thought as she sat with us for 2 hours of chat on our first evening! Very quickly, the conversation turned to children and families and so the usual question of 'how many children do you have?' was rather stunted when I said 'none'. As usual, this was followed by 'why' but then we entered a new dimension of questionning as she wanted to know how I ensured there were no children! This was a moment for good old British floundering and a total loss of all fluency in spanish, but oh no, she was prepared for this barrier; she decided to go for multiple choice with sign language and she knew a lot of methods: 'like this ..?' + mimed gesture or 'like this .. '. I can honestly say that the only mime that left me not blushing was the contraceptive pill. I noted that Richito was a very long time absent, he later confessed he could hear the conversation so there was no way he was leaving the safety of the bathroom!

Our landlady also invited us to their New Year's Eve party at her father's house so we decided we had to accept as the French girl staying downstairs had cried off as a vegetarian - a French 'vegetarian' - really?! - and the couple lodging downstairs, described as Portuguese by the landlady, had said they were too 'tired' and didn't drink. Hmm. We went along with 2 young men who were also lodging at the hospedaje for the promised dancing and drinking, but first the meat - a whole lamb skewered onto a pole and being cooked in the garden over an open fire with dad and hubby supervising and putting away a bottle of spirit; I was offered a swig of what is a very tasty cream liqueur, think Bayleys Cream, and as the lamb slow roasted I admired the decor; 2 recently removed skins nailed to the wall for drying and another lamb carcass hanging from the cross beam. The party got into full swing and various family members rolled up adding to the pressure on the dance floor and we 4 did our best to keep up with these latinos, but we failed miserably, bailing out from 12.30 whilst the family went through until about 6a.m! (As we cooked our breakfast on New Year's Day we met the 'portuguese' couple, they were lovely indeed, rather shy and awfully Korean for Mediterraneans.) But that was the old year, today is the first of the new year and that has to be welcomed; so take 2, that second lamb is being roasted, the stereo is cranked up and the coffee liqueur is chilled ... Feliz Ano Nuevo indeed!

Caleta Tortel

zapatosrojos — Sat, 7 Jan 2012 06:36:00 GMT

Caleta Tortel has no roads; it is an old port town situated in an inlet protecting it from the worst storms of the Pacific, all 550 inhabitants surviving through fishing and these days, tourism from December to February. They have constructed their single storey wooden homes on the slopes of the hill and to get from house to house you have to follow the board walks, so its an up and down walk from one stilted wooden home to another and no streets as such, though one extended board walk follows the sea front. There is one telephone line in town, shared by all, and one health centre. The supermarket gets a delivery once a week and the bus service is such that once you arrive, you stay for a few days. Few houses have locks on their doors. The surrounding mountains are snow capped in summer and sitting at a viewpoint you can see half a dozen or so waterfalls cascading down the mountains.

Laguna San Rafael Glacier & Rio Tranquilo:

zapatosrojos — Sat, 7 Jan 2012 06:34:00 GMT

We took a 2 day trip out of Rio Tranquilo to see the San Rafael Glacier. Although the trip ran out of Tranquilo transport is needed to the km 75 marker where you will come across a tiny farm where the guide lives! A short boat ride across the river, then a 30 minute walk along the road that is no longer, as the river flooded, and you join the zodiac boat. But first, to dress for the zodiac - a full body suit, fleeced on the inside and waterproof on the outside, coloured bright red so they can find you in the water when, sorry if, you fall into the river! At first, it seems like any normal boat ride but then the ice floats start to appear, dotted here and there; then more and bigger until you are navigating around huge ice floats that have broken away from the main glacier and floated down with the tide. The colour spectrum in the floats is quite extraordinary and their size awesome for a first timer like myself. After 2 1/2 hours you dock around the corner from the glacier and find that its warm and balmy!? Conaf (Chile National Parks) have 2 guards stationed here but otherwise, its deserted. A hike of just over 2 hours takes you to a viewpoint infront of the glacier and an extra 30 minutes gets you to a spot almost above the glacier. Ofcourse, both viewpoints use to be above the glacier but global warming has put paid to that. The glacier has retreated at a shocking rate - 300 metres in 10 years; the white ink reading 2000 (for the year) was a bleak marker written on dry rock.

We saw some amazing collapses of huge chunks as they broke away from the main block; the smaller cascades from the top were impressive enough, creating a sound like thunder rumbling, but when chunks seperated underwater that created a powerful display as the ice would initially sink due to its weight but then buoyancy would make it rise majestically into the air, higher than its original location, like some force coming up from the sea creating mini tsunamis in the inlet fronting the glacier. (If you look at the attached picture carefully you will see there's a boat of 8 people in the foreground, to give some perspective on its size!)

I was saddened to hear that the Chile government has approved the building of a hotel on the precipice at the edge of the glacier's inlet; sadly ironic to consider that the industrial work involved to build and the consequent traffic and industry will only add to the speed of its disappearance.

To do this trip contact Ian Farmer in Rio tranquilo

Walking Glaciers -Rio Tranquilo Glacier Exploradores.

zapatosrojos — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 08:06:00 GMT

We spent Christmas day 2011 hiking across a glacier! We had a car journey of some 90 minutes from the miniscule town of Rio Tranquillo to get to base camp, based in a wood. Then we walked a round trip of 6 hours, the first 45 minutes up through woodland and down the other side to get onto the ice.

I am not entirely sure what I expected but was surprised at what a glacier looked like! Firstly, because it churns up the ground when it forms, as it melts, all the stone and durt it churned lays on top of it as it melts away, so the first 2 hours was rough walking over gravel, rocks and boulders from small to huge. As we went along, there were patches where the stone was only a thin layer above the ice and we could see the ice shining through the breaks in gravel ready to send us flying should we place a foot in the wrong place. Then we got to the white ice, which was the thicker stuff that had not melted so retained its crystal colour. It does not lay flat, but undulates in small hills and peaks. Crampons on, off we set, after some lessons in uphill and downhill walking with crampons, crunching over the ice! In places, a patch would melt because something that was warmed by the sun had lain there,mostly stones, so crazy patterns of holes and gashes were formed, at the bottom of which lay the object that had created the melt but allowing us to see the depth of the ice and its layers. In some places bridges of ice were created as warmer melt water moved inside blocks of ice that were colder so ofcourse, these we had to watch out for as we walked.

The glacier never totally melts but as sections do, the lay of the landscape changes almost daily our guide explained. The glacier went on for miles and curved around a jut of rock. We could see it continue up the mountain and sometimes heard the thunderous rumble as a slice fell away from the main body and tumbled to the ground; sometimes we even saw this at a distance, a mass tumbling quickly, resembling a strong waterfall which happens 5 or 6 times a day.

The Carretera Austral, northern Patagonia, Chile

zapatosrojos — Tue, 27 Dec 2011 08:04:00 GMT

The Carretera Austral, this unpaved pebble stone main road that goes from 2 lanes to 1 somewhere just past Coyhaique is the spine road, the only road, that links the towns of northern Patagonia. It was instigated by Pinoche,t with places like Puyuhuapi having only been accessible by road since 1982 ;infact the town of La Junta is so delighted with Pinochet's boost to their town that they still proudly have a monumnet to his memory at the entrance to the town! A journey along this long, long road on the public bus service is absolutely stunning, a vista for the eyes. Mountains soar on either side framing the road with jagged rock that was blasted to create the road; mountain ranges retain the snow through the summer months creating a vivid contrast of colours with the woods that cover the lower reaches. At times, a river will run alongside, broad ice blue melts from the snow and ice, basting in the rays of sunshine, a thousand diamonds twinkling on the surface. Along from Yelcho you can spy a glacier hanging between the valleys of cliffs. Then the road will turn and we meet vast lakes sitting majestically, shored by trees and an abundance of wild flowers and shrubs. Very occassionally we will pass a small holding, a farm, miles and miles and miles from anywhere or anyone else. People say the age of the pioneer is gone but that can't be; these people survive on their wits against the elements of nature; they cannot call anyone if anything goes wrong, they are their own plumber, roofer, doctor, mechanic; surely this is real survival and I am seeing it at its 'easiest', the summer months.

The vast resources of this area are now highly desirable as the government wants to build dams to harness the energy reserves and thus provide electricity for northern Chile as well as selling energy to other south American countries. The locals are not happy about this and the 'Patagonia Without Dams' posters can be seen in every car and house window, on billboards, on the sides of shops and along every main street. The dams would mean relocating the very people whose grandparents were encouraged to move out here to tame this wilderness many years ago; 3 generations ago a young man could be persuaded to leave his family with the promise of swathes of land to establish his own hacienda, his ranch with animals and produce; but their grandchildren cannot give up the freedom and identity of Patagonia, life on the range for a '2 up 2 down house'. This debate runs deep and the government's popularity rate is now lower than Pinochet's ever achieved!

Photos: red shoes

zapatosrojos — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 13:33:00 GMT

The Man From C.H.A.I.T.E.N.

zapatosrojos — Tue, 20 Dec 2011 11:49:00 GMT

This is a 2 pipe tale so if you don't smoke a pipe, maybe make a cup of tea!

Chaiten was a town of over 4,000 people and a central hub for all transport: ferries from the west and all buses north, south and east. But, in May 2008, the volcano that attracted so many tourists erupted. The lava burnt a scar through the mountainside but never reached the town of Chaiten, 40 - 50 km away. However, the subsequent ash fell all over and clogged the river, turning it to mud and overflowing the banks as it looked for a way down hill, which took it through Chaiten, sweeping away thousands of homes with it. Thankfully, no-one was killed. In February 2011 electricity was restored to a town of just over 800 people as the rest had started life anew, elsewhere. It is no longer a transport hub.

We arrived full of expectation from The Book but were soon to be disillusioned. The bus that brought us from Puerto Montt returned there the next day, but that seemed pointless. Were there any other buses out of Chaiten? Yes, well, in a way, yes. There was a bus to Futaleufu, some days - Futaleufu being on the Argentinian border, some 80km away. It went some days between 11a.m. and 1.p.m. depending. Depending on what? Different things. What different things? Shrug. Right, you get the idea. What about the ferry, did that go regularly? Yes, to Puerto Montt. Ah. All roads lead to back to Puerto Montt. (The song "Hotel California" was now going round and round in my head.) The ferry was going at 10.a.m. according to the ferry office, 12.00 according to the locals! As it happens, 5.pm. was the latest prediction when we last looked!

So, Nicholas suggested he may know a man who would be taking a sailor from the ferry to Puyahuapi. Nicholas? Ah, now, there's another whole different story. Before arriving in Chaiten we had emailed the "guru" of all things transport related, according to The Book, who could also organise "all sorts of trips". He failed to mention in his emails that he already had commitments on both the days after we arrived; he found us after we arrived in the town - with only 2 hostals the odds were stacked in his favour - and so we ended up on a trip to see a waterfall, some alerce trees and the remains of the volcano at 6a.m. so he could be back in time for his pre-arranged trip - ironically, a group of people from a boat; I never did get to hear where this boat came from or possibly more importantly, where it went. By the time we did his trip he had also roped in Mami from Japan, who was also looking a little trapped and hungry for escape as we travelled back to town. The situation became a little tense when Nicholas declared that the bus we wanted, the one to Futaleufu, was the one pulling away from the other end of the airstrip towards town, as we were blocked on the this side of the airstrip. He could not see if the barrier was up to pass and when he called the 'watch tower' he discovered he was out of credit on his phone. ('Welcome to the Hotel California') We hit town and headed straight for our bags, not really wanting to linger to teach Nicholas the welsh and japanese words for 'hello' and 'how are you'.

The bus was full.' Maniana' said the laughing bus driver. We discussed the welsh and japanese words for f***.

That evening, hungry for dinner, we set out to one of the 2 places in town that serve food, but only after 7.30p.m. As we walked along the street we saw Mami with Nicholas. 'So', he says, 'I'm surprised to see you still here.'

Me: I share your surprise

N: Hey, but this is interesting.

Me: In what way exactly?

N: well, there are lots of ways to a solution.

Me: such as?

N: We just need to work those out.

Me: Actually, we are hungry and are heading for dinner.

N: Would you guys like to visit my place?

Me: Your office you mean?

N: No, I have a new place. No-one has visited yet, it would be great if you would like to visit.

Richito: We would love to Nicholas but we are quite hungry actually

N: We can hang out and chat, come on, follow me.

Mami looked slightly abused, I glared at Richito - always transfer blame elsewhere. We looked as Nicholas stepped over a low metal fence into the empty garden area we had been standing next to. He laughed, 'Welcome to my place'. Like hypnotised victims we stepped over and stood around in the garden area, which he had mown with a traditional scythe. 'Really?' 'Yes, I enjoyed it actually'

N: Oh, hang on a minute.

We all exchanged worried glances; Nicholas returned with a guitar he just happened to have in his minibus. As he launched into a country and music song about lost love I noted Mami had sunk into the wet grass, all cares and hopes gone, staring forlornly at the ground. Richito avoided all eye contact. Nicholas stood closer as he sung. Maximum self control was now called for. The song ended and I clapped appreciatively but did not step away fast enough. Tune 2 began, Bob Marley's 'Be Happy' - I wondered if this was Nicholas's idea of a joke? Happy? Verse 1 in English, verse 2 in Spanish; how many bloody verses were in the damn song? When that one finished I was away out of the field faster than a whippet on the starter's gun: 'see you later, thanks, ... hungry!' Richito made it to the restaurant 10 minutes later - something about boats was said after I left. Poor Mami came in 30 minutes later - that girl has to toughen up.

Day 3 - Chaiten - still. ('You can check out any time...') I emerged from the hostal straight into the waiting Nicholas. 'I've been thinking about your situation and I know a man who may be taking a sailor to Puyahuapi'.

Me: really? Ok, but how does this help us?

N: well, he could take you too if its still on, I'd have to speak to him. I've called and left messages but no-one's got back to me.

Richito: well, that's really kind, and it would be great, but when do you think you'd know for definite, as we are thinking of getting the ferry back up north and need to buy the ticket soon.

N: I thought you wanted to go south?

Me: Well, that's proven a little difficult all in all.

N: Yes, the bus drivers are ( word mumbled into Richito's ear). Now, how do you say 'hello' in welsh again?

Our way out was just a 3 minute walk away; we could see the office; the cars around it making us stress about a full ferry so we started ambling towards the ferry office and Nicholas followed, with his bicycle, suggesting he could take us on a special trip, but maybe he would go to the ferry boarding dock to see if there was demand. Mami was at the office, pale, keen, hungry for a ticket. I considered it significant that the queue was so long.

As we waited at the ferry office Nicholas cycled around town approaching people and chatting and that's how he actually found our solution. He spoke with 2 men who had been at our hostal and at the same restaurant the night before; 2 engineers heading south to work for 3 days who would be more than happy to help out a few stuck tourists and so we ended up in their truck for a 9 hour ride south. The last I saw of Nicholas, he was speaking to one of our 2 new friends at the truck window, teaching him the welsh for' hello' and 'how are you'!

Puerto Montt to Chaiten

zapatosrojos — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 21:29:00 GMT

Our 9 hour bus trip south consisted of 3 ferry crossings, as they have no roads in some areas, and during those crossings we saw dolphins, otters, sea lions and penguins! Sure beats the P&O route Dover Calais.

The Lakes District

zapatosrojos — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 21:27:00 GMT

The lakes district is too far south to get hot; protected by the volcanoes around from too much wind and cold so never too cold and the same volcanic hills ensure that the rain deluges down all year around, so its a very lush, fertile, green area. Many moons ago German, Austrian and Swiss folks settled here and their legacy is still clear in the design of the houses, the towns and the farming methods clearly employed in the area. Communities are established around the lakes; dairy cattle graze peacefully, joined by some sheep scattered here and there, and horses; fine, strong, healthy looking beasts who can be seen carrying their masters across the land inspecting their crops. Many farmers also grow vegetables and fruit and organic seems to be the way forward. Our landlord grew fruit and herbs and had a small meadow planted on the roofs of his various outhouses, being both economically and environmentally friendly. Home made jams, cheese and bread were served for breakfast in an all wood farmhouse he built himself! As Christmas is approaching, artisan markets have been held in every town we visited with wooden toys, honeys, home made wines and distinctly german style cakes being the main sales. Its all so damn good and nice and healthy; and as I groan at the stereotype of it all I reach for a large glass of unhelathy red wine.

Valparaiso, Chile

zapatosrojos — Mon, 19 Dec 2011 21:26:00 GMT

This is listed as an UNESCO town so just one question, Why?!

Is it the promenade along the seafront which you can not walk along as it is used to store the giant containers for long haul industrial shipping? Or is it the huge security fences which block all views to the shore line? Maybe its because of the traffic congestion through town? Or the poor, run down look of the old town with the faded colours of the houses and the clapperboards fixed haphazardly? Who knows why it got the accalade, but Valparaiso's old town lacks the stimulus, panache or aged dignity to draw the eye and mind away from the ugly, industrial monster sitting at its front .

Santiago

zapatosrojos — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 00:05:00 GMT

Brilliant, helped by the fact that we arrived to a warm, summertime city. Santiago is obviously huge, but seems logically laid out with many, many parks, fountains, statues, green areas to shade, sit and chill for a while and tree lined roads. It has plazas large and centrally proud as well as small courtyards tucked away down side streets with restaurants and coffee shops sprawling out onto the terraced areas for the city dwellers to sip coffees and eat their ice creams.

Many of the old buildings are now used by small businesses as offices, but the structure of the old build has been held intact, thus Santiago keeps the feel of an old city. Churches and civic buildings are huge and reflect the spanish influence very heavily; looking at the main post office square you could be standing in Madrid's Plaza Ana.

Ecuador, overall

zapatosrojos — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 00:03:00 GMT

The Lonely Planet would have you believe that Quito in particular, and parts of Ecuador in general are the crime centres of South America and though caution may be sound advice in a country which has some social problems, I'm not sure their warnings of woe and violence are entirely justified. We may have been astoundingly lucky in that no crime affected us at all, I accept, but I found Ecuador to be a very peacable and friendly place with people being incredibly patient about the spanish (lack of) and very willing to help with directions and advice when it obviously did not benefit them at all. In Quito, art exhibitions are regularly put up: when we were there, multiple ceramics of the national bird, the hummingbird, which were variously painted or crafted by over 50 artists, and an exhibition of black and white photographs of Quito, then and now. The only spot of graffitti I saw was on the picture of the bull fight, and that was a pointed protest against cruelty to animals. All this work was out on the streets and so very vulnerable to abuse, yet it was all respected. I wondered if they would last so intact in London?

Every culture interprets the story according to their own perameters and for me, definite highlights in Ecuador were statues of the Madonna wearing a panama hat and Jesus and his disciples tucking into guy (roasted guinea pig) and choclo ( sweetcorn kernels) at the last supper!

Ecuador also seemed quite traditional in its ways. Almost all restaurants were Ecuadorian cuisine with little call for new dishes; the only 'foreign' foods seemed to be chinese, mexican and pizza but all 3 have at core the same ingredients as Ecuadorian foods - rice, beans, meat, bread,potatoes, chilli sauce! Ecuadorians are proud to be Ecuadorian and celebrate a range of anniversaries to do with the country's past and establishment. Their dedication to their football team is fanatical and in that way they are a stereotype of latino americano, but otherwise they will proudly state their nationality, as nationalism is not seen as a negative here. Women will tell you that they want to be married and be mothers, whilst they also hold senior positions at work in an albeit traditional yet also progressive country.

La Chiva

zapatosrojos — Wed, 7 Dec 2011 09:01:00 GMT

La Chiva.

No, its not a goat but neither is it just a bus taking tourists along the 'Waterfalls Highway'. The Chiva was very brightly coloured in reds, blues and yellows with lots of orange squiggles which made it a very jolly bus to see the waterfalls, with open sides even better for sightseeing, so off we went. But within seconds we were introduced to the Chiva's other role: a moving disco! On came the music, pumped up to full volume, pop (I'm showing my age) and house (getting down) with a Latino beat drew all eyes as we passed - envy or pity, I'm not sure - and we swung out of town, hugging the narrow roads that gave optimum vistas of the 17 waterfalls. But there's more, after some 3 hours and excellent views of waterfalls, including rides across canyons and hikes down through woodland for close up views , we started to head back and as it was getting dark, on came the lights! Blue, green and red flashing bulbs inside and flashing strips on the outside, beautifully drawing out the orange squiggle artwork as we rocked back to Banos. I would highly recommend the trip but pack your ear plugs if you're over 18!