One Last Try?

After much soul searching and meditation my Viejito and I are finally facing the same direction.

He loves me, I love him, and we are going to do what it takes to be together.

I don't know what this will mean in practice. Does he want us to live together? Do I want that? When and how will he tell Jan and Blake about us? How will they react and what will we go through to get to the other side of this? All big scary things to consider but I still can't help but feel so happy. We've tried so long and so hard to deny what we have between us, surely if we invest that same energy into being together instead of being appart we can work though anything.

My family too are worried. It's hard to support a daughter that tells you she is in love with someone elses husband and you're planning to live happily ever after. My family love me and want to support me, they just find it hard to understand and trust that I have my good reasons for this choice.

Time will tell if it was worth it. For now I have to trust my instincts.

Last Days in Chile

I'm heading home in a few days and I'm so excited! It's well and truely time to go home.

At the same time I am a little sad to be leaving. Not because of this place as such, but the family I'll be leaving behind. My Gran is turning 80 next April and I had entertained the idea of being here for that. It's a big mile stone but more importantly, how many other birthdays will there be for us to share with her? No one likes to think of these things but you can't denie that there will be at least less than 30 more birthdays, maybe less than another 20, possibely less than 10.

I will miss Dalia and the boys, Vincente and Alvaro. They have many challanges ahead. It can't be easy being a single mother of two teenageboys in such a chauvanistic country as this. I wish they were closer, I wish they could be there for our family dos in Australia. Dalia was the other sister, the sister that got left behind when we went to Australia. She should have come with us.

Tia Anna too will be sorely missed. She is so much like dad in so many ways. She's been great to get to know, I'm proud to have her as my aunt.

I'm going to miss Tono, Tia Juanita, Marco, Sarita. They are all gold.

Will not miss Daniela. She's my cousin and I love her but she is an irritating little shit. Possibly the worst mannered, most egocentric brat I've ever known. Both arrogant and a lier, I can only hope she does ok for herself because her attitude thus far in life has won her few friends - if she can't look after herself, I can't imagine anyone else wanting to.

Lanes and other Suggestions

I have to share a little of what it's like on the roads here. It's a joy ride every time you get out there on the roads, a mad game of Who Dares Wins.

Lanes was a hard one to get used to. Just because there are three lanes marked on a road, that doesn't mean you will be driving three a breast. Rather the lines are there more as a guide to show you how the road winds and gives a suggestion of how many cars might fit across. Sometimes only 2 fit, sometimes there will be 2 on either side of you, but you can all just work that out as you drive along.

Any kind of disruption up ahead is signaled with "Danger X meters ahead". This could be road work, a fallen tree, a dodgy intersection, cows on the road... it's all a giant lucky dip! My favourite feature of this sign is that "Danger 50 meters ahead" seams to be acceptable to place ON THE DANGER. So if you're not paying attention, sometimes you think the sign is on the side of the dark, unlit road and there will be something ahead when really your about to drive INTO the sign and the hole it's covering!

The SLOW signs painted on the road are another peice of lovely randomness. Sometimes they are there because there's a speed bump ahead, sometimes it's just to scare you. But unless you know the roads well you better not risk it - some speed bumps are so bad they scrape the underside of the scoot when you WALK over them. Hit them at speed... not a good look.

Roundabouts are not for the faint hearted. Go anti-clockwise. That's the only rule. I recommend going slowly so you can dodge the lunatic pulling out in front of you and maybe avoid the nutter who's about to collect your tail if you don't move it now.

As I'm preparing to leave, there are more and more people asking me what I liked and didn't like about this place. It's not really fair to ask this as LIKE and DISLIKE are not really descriptions that fit this place. There are things that impact you, things you remember. The roads are one of these things.

Panamerican - The Longest Highway in the World

Keeping up the blogg when spending big chunks of time on the road is proving tricky. On the road there is so much I want to remember to share later but I don't want to look down to write and maybe miss something while. I think the photos tell the story better anyway.

Doing a road trip in Chile is nothing like doing a road trip in Australia. There are towns and people EVERYWHERE here. You don't go for more than a few kilometers in any direction before you're reminded that you are surrounded by people. There is always a billboard, or town sign or "Pan Amasado" sign to remind you. And you also don't go more than a few kilometers without having to pay a bloody toll!

Mum, dad and I started our little road trip south, travelling on the Ruta 5 - otherwise know as the Pan-Americana Highway. Starting from Santiago, we went to Temuco, Osorno, El Tayque, Puerto Montt, Ancud, Castro, Valdivia, Coral and just about every town in between. Pretty much anywhere we saw a "Pan Amasado" sign dad wanted to stop. And every time there was anything that looked remotely like a 'feria artesanal' mum and I wanted to stop so it was a nice slow pace for the most part. Although anyone who's been in a car with my dad driving will know this is a relative statement.

Of course when we were in the area, we went to stay with Tia Sarays in El Tayque. We headed out just past sunset after picking up Tia in Entre Lagos where she'd been in a meeting. Now to get to Tia's house you have to get up a pretty nasty hill on a gravel road with no safety fences or any fancy shit like that. I tried to tell dad this but of course, dad does not like to be told how to drive - he's the man and he knows what he's doing even when he hasn't got a clue. Now on this road there is one point in particular that is so steep and so gravelly that even Tia's Subaru with the 4x4 on struggles to make it. We, on the other hand, were travelling in a tiny little Kia Pop (like a Mitsubishi Colt) with tiny wheels that was struggling on the flats with the big rocks that make up the gravel road.

It is on this precise spot - the steepest, gravelliest, most dangerous corner - that dad decides to move to the edge so that a ute following us can overtake.

THERE IS NO FENCE ON THIS ROAD.
THERE IS SOFT SQUISHY PILES OF GRAVEL ON THE EDGE OF THE ROAD JUST BEFORE THE DROP.
IT'S DARK AND WE ARE IN A CITY CAR.

Mum screams, the car is sliding everywhere in slow motion, and the edge is so close when we stop that the car is tilting scarily forward. All but dad are madly trying to get out of the car as quickly as possible. Mum has hit COMPLETE panic mode. I'm trying to keep my own panic down whilst calming mum down so that she doesn't faint on me and so that dad doesn't freak out at mums freak out. Tia Sarays is calmly waiting for everyone to just relax a little.

Dad finally gets back in the drivers seat swearing at everyone that he knows what he's doing and will have us right in two seconds. He whacks the car in reverse, spins the wheels in the gravel, and slides the car within inches of falling into the ditch on the other side of the road.

Mum is screaming! Tia and I are both screaming for dad to stop. Dad is screaming at mum to stop making him nervous. Total chaos. Dad tells me to get behind and push the car to help get it out of the gravel - no worries, Tia comes over and gets set to push too. And next thing you know the reverse lights are on and dad is revving the engine. STOP!! we yell, what the hell do you think you're doing? Getting a run up to go forward of course!

When we finally got the car back on the 'good' bit of the road and up the hill, mum swore the car was not to move again until we were ready to leave and once we were down the hill we were NEVER going back up in that car again.

But thankfully most of our other adventures were good ones. We ate so much seafood, I don't think I can handle anymore for quite some time. There were some amazing sights, especially on the ferry to Chiloe and in Ancud where we stayed at a beautiful hostel over looking the ocean.

The last town we stayed at was Niebla, Valdivia. Some family friends, Isabel (Chabela, Nuby's daughter) and husband and kids, live there and they made us feel very, very welcome. We were there for 3 nights all up. The family is clearly a happy one with lots of love and respect for everyone, and lots of fond memories of mum and dad too. They invited me to come back and stay anytime and I think I'll take them up on the offer.

Interesting point for me too is to see mum and dad from other peoples point of view - especially dad. I know I can be very hard on dad sometimes. Sometimes I find it hard to understand how he could have made some of the mistakes he's made in terms of our family. But when I see the good that he's done for other people, the love that he inspires from people (who consider him as their surrogate father) I find it easier to accept that maybe he didn't really mean the fuck-ups he did with us.

One of my objectives with coming to Chile was to understand my parents and my family history better. This road trip certainly meets that criteria.

Things Not Even an Ocean Can Seperate You From

Time is moving on quickly here in Chile. Things I had planned have been done and more things will be done soon. I'm enjoying this all thoroughly now, no longer lost and disoriented like when I first got here.

One thing I AM still struggling with is my lover left behind. Not only left behind in the physical sense that he's still in Australia, but also left behind in the I don't want to be his mistress anymore. I'm tired of JUST being a lover, I want to be a partner as well and this is where it starts to get complicated.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder they say. Will it make the heart so fond that he will choose to be with me, despite the obvious obstacles? How long will he ask me to wait for him? Have I waited long enough? No one is denying that it's a big call - leave the life you have to be with someone who loves you but is many years your junior. Someone who loves you now but what if you can't give her children or if you become a drooling geriatric in the corner in five years time and she resents you? Big questions I know.

And what about me? Do I really want a man who finds it so hard to choose to be with me? Do I really want a man who has to think twice about raising children with me that might not be his own blood? Maybe he's right and I'm wrong - it would never work out, best to give up now and settle for a life without each other, no matter how much we are in love? Maybe I should do what he says and try to find someone my own age, someone who's biologically more compatible?

I hate this. I hate feeling like this. I hate feeling like my heart is on the line and I'm waiting to see if my offering will be accepted or if it will be turned away, sent back as unworthy.

All the beautiful things I'm seeing and all the adventures I'm having are blurred with tears. I'm trying to stop them flowing, trying to bring myself into the moment I'm living. But some days are harder than others.

Today is a difficult day.

Peru, Bolivia and San Pedro de Atacama

OK so it would appear that my last post didn't work. So it really has been a while between updates innit? I don't want to go into too much details now or else I'll be writing for days. I'll let the pictures tell most of it but here's in brief what I've been up to.

Not long after I came back from Valparaiso Esther arrived. It was around the 12/08, and it took about 24 hours for her to be in bed sick with some hideous cold thing. Not the best start but at least she was well enough by the 21st to travel to Peru.

Peru was brilliant. Such a close neighbour to Chile yet in so many ways totally different - but then again not! Our tour leaders was really lovely too - Tito and Hugo.

We started in Lima, spending just two days in the capital sight seeing before flying out to Cuzco, the ancient Inca capital. The altitude hit me almost as soon as the plane depressurised. When I bent over to pick up my back pack from the carousel is was a good 5 minutes before I could stand up again without fear of fainting. Lucky for us there were women selling coca leaves as soon as we walked out the front doors. It tastes like grass and the consistency can make you gag but it cures your altitude sickness almost instantly.

A few days in Cuzco and surrounds before going over to Aguas Caliente, at the foot of Machu Pichu. The town is clearly a tourist town but in that lovely welcoming way some tourist areas have. There was no resentment towards us tourist by the locals, except one time when I ventured alone to the river side and interrupted some women laundering and men fishing. Clearly the tourists don't do that sort of thing often.

Machu Pichu was AMAZING! We took an early morning bus ride to the top of the mountain where the ruins begin, and from there, after a short tour of the main ruin site, we headed up to climb Waynapichu, the nose of the Inca profile seen in the landscape. Two hours to climb up, half an hour to climb down. Some areas were so precarious that slightest gust of wind or tremble of your legs could have been the end of you. There is something quite exhilarating doing something so clearly dangerous, something that back home would be regulated beyond almost all thrill.

Although I took some amazing photos of the top of Waynapichu, our return to Cuzco saw my beloved indestructible camera stolen. Thankfully everyone on tour had a digital and all have assured me a copy when they return home. I think it fell out of my bag as I was sitting in the waiting room with Esther for her tattoo to be drawn up, else it was stolen from my bag on the way to my Inca massage appointment - I have no way to be sure.

After Cuzco we went by bus to Puno, on the shores of Lake Titikaka. Puno was much bigger than I expected and had the feel of an up and coming starlet trying to impress everyone with her talent. We spent two full days on the lake, visiting floating reed islands and some of the real islands on the lake. The reed islands were so strange, they made me think of what I used to imagine walking on clouds would be like. The people who live on the reed islands have a strange blend of modernity and tradition in their lives. They'll dress up and show off their traditions to the tourists that come to see them but they also have modern luxuries like TV and Internet run from solar panels. At one house where I asked to see inside, the mama tending her stove out the front got the idea of dressing me up in her brightly coloured skirts to add to the feeling of being a local. I loved it! When she saw how much I was enjoying it she even insisted I put on the shirt and petticoat to go with the skirt. The latter was clearly too small but instead of heeding my protests for her not to worry about it, she RIPPED the petticoat in one quick move and insisted on putting the now larger opening around my hips. Others saw what we were doing and in no time there was half our party laughing and playing dress ups with this gorgeous mama.

On one of the earth islands, we stayed a night in the home of a local family. The lake is at very high altitudes and the islands are hills almost from the moment they come out of the waters. Teamed with a chest cold, I found I could hardly breath the entire time we were there, but it was still very enjoyable with friendly children and a local dance thrown for us by the entire village. We were even given local out fits to wear to the dance - more brilliantly coloured skirts! As one of the guys so simply put it, I'm all tits and arse in those costumes but it was still fun.

After the adventures on the lake we spent one more night in Puno. Having well and truly got to know the tour group by now, we decided it was time for a piss up. We were in the tourist part of town and felt safe enough to get raucously drunk and go dancing into the wee hours of the morning. Brilliant fun. It was so nice to be out playing with a big bunch of new friends after having spent so much time in Santiago by myself.

The next day we again took a bus, this time to Copacabana, and then onwards over the boarder and into La Paz. There was a bit just after the boarder crossing here we had to ferry the bus across the Lake. For safety the bus and passengers were put on separate boats. How odd it was to see the bus sailing along next to us, bobbing and swaying in the little waves of the lake.

As the bus came round a bend heading into the city, my jaw hit the ground at the sight of La Paz. It is so overwhelming to see this undulating mass of houses and structures rippling in the shape of the valley that contains it. There are possibly bigger cities in the world, but I've never seen one that looks so much like a living breathing carpet before. Of all the places we travelled to, La Paz was where I felt the least safe. This city had a beat and pulse of it's own that waits for no one. Narrow streets filled with market stalls selling souvenirs and witchcraft ingredients, and musical instruments and food. Beautiful colonial architecture and precariously balanced shacks. Charming little plazas and desert landscapes. The city is just full of contradictions and makes no excuses about it.

Esther and I along with our new friends Gillian and Keith were lucky enough on our first day to meet the wonderful Willy. Willy was a taxi driver, tango singer, tour guide, and Bolivians number one fan. What started as a 5 min ride to the markets ended up a 5 hour trip to some ruins out of town and endless stories and histories of Bolivia. My favourite was the story of the curicuri - a human like being sent from Holy Rome by the Pope to steal the fat from wanderers at night. He only works from 5:30pm to 7:00pm but if you're caught walking by him he'll suck all the fat from your body and send it to the Pope. Although I don't think he's making soap with it, it's supposed to be used for some holy pope thing. Mean while you have just 5 days to enjoy your new slender figure before you die an untimely death - your only hope is to make it to a small village known for it's witch doctors and hope they can cure you in time.

La Paz is where our tour ended and we flew back to Santiago. We here stayed about a week before heading back north by bus almost as far as we'd just flown. San Pedro de Atacama is the mecca for tourists wanting to visit the worlds driest desert and all the wonders it has to offer. We spent 4 days there and crammed as much as we could into each day. Flamencos, geysers, salt lakes, lagoons, hot springs, desert sunsets and big nights drinking. It was gold!

Valparaiso

Why do we have no family living here???
This place is beautiful.
The beat and the rhythm of life is different here.
There are colours and shapes and forms and beauty for the sake of beauty.
There´s the sea.
There´s no smog!
Why would you live in Santiago when you could live here?

I spent 5 days wandering around back alleys, playing with stray cats, chatting to artists.... I even got the shit scared out of me during a light earthquake that seemed to go on for ages, but would only have been abut 10 seconds. But when the houses look like they are bearly standing when the earth is still, when it shakes you think the whole thing will tumble into the sea.

The city creeps up the side of very steep hills, just meters from the waters edge. The hills are full of danger as well as beauty. Everyone kept reminding me to keep my camera well hiden and to be on my guard. There's clearly a lot of poverty in Valpo, and all the back alleys and random door ways make a footchase with your assailant vertually useless.

Seriously the dogs are a problem too. Apart from the poo EVERYWHERE, I stopped to take photos at a lookout on the hills and when I got back on the scoot, three dogs came running at me and wouldn´t let me move. Everytime I reved the engine to go, they would lunge. I was there for about 3min trying to get away without being attacked; finally a shop keeper took pity on me and chased the dogs with a broom as I rode off. Was rather scary.

Dispite the dangers, the colours and the rhythm of life gives the impression that Valpo doesn´t suffer as deeply from this underlying sorrow that seems to envelope Santiguiños. There is smudge of sorrow, distrust, fear that influences everything in Santiago. The more I talk to people, the more I believe it has a lot to do with the Dictatorship. A whole generation lived and raised their children in this oppression, and it's going to take more than one generation to move away from that. But Valparaisians don't seem to have this so much. Maybe it's living by the sea, or just not being physically oppressed by the smog and over crowding of Santiago, but they walk to a different beat. There are still signs of the oppresion under Pinoche but it's seen through the political graffiti, the paintings and attitudes against that ever happeing again.

I was going to come back to Santiago on the third day but woke to pouring rain. I thought about coming back anyway but decided against it in the end. SO glad I did, as it snowed in Santiago that night. It got down to about -6 and the rain I was in became snow as it reached Santiago. So instead, I found a groovy little cafe and spent the day talking to a crazy Brazilian with a wicked hangover and a broken heart. He was drinking himself stupid trying to forget that he loved his wife and family but they still might end up seperating. Valparaiso is a smart choice for that sort of activity. He'd gone out drinking, ended up running away from a cabaret when he realised sex was included in the entry ticket he'd bought, and was almost kicked out of his hostel the next morning when the owner, screaming, told him he'd come home the night before with a stray dog and had brought it into the bed with him, crying that they dog was cold and could not be left on the street. All very Valparaiso.

On the last day as I was leaving I got pulled over by two carabineros doing trafic control. As I pull over shitting myself as to what I could possibly be being done for, the younger of the two comes over and says, "so what kind of milage do you get on that thing?" The elder rolls his eyes and says, "you could at least ask to see her documents, you didn't just pull her over to ask about the scoot did you?". "What's wrong with that?" comes the response. I'm pulled over in the middle of an intersection with big transport trucks trying to turn around me, and this cop wants to talk scoot specs. And being Chilean, it only took a few minutes for the conversation to become a pick up line about, Soooo is your boyfriend waiting for you back in Sydney?, Have you had a chance to enjoy some real latino men yet?

When I eventually got away from these would be lovers, they send me of in THAT direction, telling me Santiago is THAT way. Now I don´t know if this was punishment for not stroking their egos enough or if I misunderstood the directions, but I found myself on a narrow, winding road full of cracks and pot holes heading steeply up the hills, straight to the areas I had been avoiding for fear of delinquints and dogs. This CANNOT be the road to Santiago I think, knowing all the transport trucks that go there every day. I don´t really want to pull over to ask because of the dogs - the ones in the sun would rather stay sleeping but everytime I went past one in the shade, they would chase me. Eventually I pulled over and was told just a little further. I´m so high up by now I can see well off to Viña del Mar in the distance through the houses. The road is so steep at this point, it feels like the 70Lt backpack on my back is going to flip me over at any second. I climb and climb and climb. I ask again, am told again, just a little further. I'm well and truely shitting myself at this point, thinking I am the butt of some citywide joke, sending me into the hills where a band of thugs are waiting to slit my throat and feed me to the dogs. I climb so high, there are not even houses around me anymore, just brush and rubbish and the odd person wondering on the road like there's not been a car up here in weeks. Then just when I really start to loose it, the road levels out and I'm in a flat splindly forrest, with rubbished piled up almost waist high all around me. It was like riding through the tip if there were trees in it. I'd climed so high, I now had to go down some to rejoin the main highway. Apparently I had taken the OLD road out. The one they used back probably before cars were invented. With hindsight, it was brilliant and I'd happily do it again. But in the moment, when you don't know if you ever will make it out in one peice, it was well and truely terrifying.

Fresh Ink

Its been said that once you get to FOUR, that´s it, you´re addicted.

This could well be true....

This is my latest addition, number five. I´ve had an idea for a dove tattoo since highschool but it hadn´t taken form until now. These are based on traditional Chilean blue and white "engobe" ceramic doves. The fact that they are two and so stylised reminds me of the traditional tattoo swallows which I love. I wanted something to remind me of this trip, something old school and something for good luck. For me, these fit all three bills.

While I was there, I got some touch ups done too. My ankle, for the third time, got some work done. This was purely to fix the abbismal job the second guy did. It now looks a little more tribal than the original design but that really couldn´t be helped given the state the second guy left it in.

The DragonFly I was very, very nervous about letting ANYONE touch. I´ve always loved how it looked, just the way Crafty did it. But now with all the additional colour work, it was looking a little out of place. So with much apprehension I let Pancho at it. I´m sure he wanted to slap me by the time he took ink to flesh, but I did warn him I was protective of it. In the end though I´m very happy with how it´s come out. Love it more than ever.

A Little Ray of Sunshine

It has been sunshining in Santiago for 3 days now and another 2 days anticipated. I can see why people say I will fall in love with this place in spring. It changes so much when the sun is out rather than the grey dreary winter we´ve had for so long.

I rode out to a place called El Cajon del Maipo which is basically the valley where the Maipo river comes down from the Andea Cordillera. It was so beautiful to be out on the road, a pale blue snow melt river winding along beside me, with steep steep mountains on either side. It amazes me how new the earth looks here compared to the ancient landscape of home. Australia is such an old part of the earth, weather beaten and erroded. Here the earth is so young, the mountains feel like they are being pushed up into existance in front of your eyes.

The road I was on eventually takes you to the Chile/Argentina border and although I realise it was not going to be smart to get too close to the boarder, I was surprised at how soon the road started to clim and take you into the mountains. Within about an hour of winding roads I was well amongst what they call the Pre-Cordillera (foothills). I would have loved to have gone a little further than I did but I decied to turn around when the road started to get really bad. There were pockets of snow in every corner and shadow and the patches of ice on the road were getting too big to ride around. There were little trickles of stones falling almost constantly from above where the snow was melting and the earth relaxing. These started to REALLY worry me when the stones weren´t just egg sized anymore, they were more head sized. It gave off this delicious smell of fresh earth which was both exhilirating and terrifying all at once.

Just before I turned around, I stopped at a disused tunnel that was still visible from the road. You can walk through the tunnel if you want but you do so at your own risk and without a torch it was almost pitch black and I was too chicken. But coming around to the other side there was memorial to someone called Willy. It seams to be the norm here that if someone passes away on a road or public place, they set up commemorative little shrines and over time people start to pray to the deceased and attribute blessing and good luck to them. This shrine had blue wind mills all over it like it was fair day, and it was very well organised with a guest book for people to sign (and the old ones for people to read) in a perspex box. It was rather strange really, more than these things usually are.

Last thing I did before heading home was stop for a country style meal. Entree of artichoke bases, main of Pastel de Choclo, and bread with lots of yummy pevre. It was so so good!!!

One Crazy Bus Ride

I just had the most insane bus ride.

Going from my cousins house to my Tias house is one long bus ride. Sounds pretty easy right? Get on here, get off there. Simple. Oh but no, this is Santiago, and things are rarely simple.

I got on no worries, and we´re travelling down familiar streets, all seams well. But when people start pressing the buzzer to get off the driver is ignoring it. People start yelling out for him to stop. So he opens the back doors, but doesn´t stop! Eventually, after quite a few stops have been missed, he pulls over and people get off cursing and swearing. And this continues through 5 or 6 suburbs we cross. The bus is packed to (or over) capacity, back doors open as we zoom through the city, and people yelling out for the bastard to stop. It was like being in a Nightmare On Elm Street film.

When we got to the street I had to get off at, I got off about 6 blocks early since I didn´t know when it would stop again.

It was such a surreal experiance in that EVERYONE on the bus was alarmed and yelling out for the ´huevon´ to stop. It was a moment of collective fear of what this madman was going to do next.

Bizzar

Surprises in the South, La Piojera, and San Cristobal

The gap in time between this and the last entry is thanks to a short and unexpected trip to the south with my Tia Sarays. Tia Sarays was the Tia we hardly ever saw because she always stayed in the country running the farm and never came to the city. All I ever really knew about her was that she married my dad's brother Oscar and she's mum to my cousins Claudia, Leo, David and Nona. Well wouldn't you know it, my Tia Sarays rocks! She's tough as nails and bright as a button. She's got guts, enthusiasm and ideas and she wants a bite of the latest cherry to arrive in the south, Tourism. I have NO DOUBT she will do very well.

Upon returning to Santiago I discovered another interesting surprise - a cocktail called Terremotos or Earthquakes. I think the name was chosen by the first person to suffer from the hangover they give you. I spent the WHOLE of the next day driving the poceline bus or curled up in bed. Who the hell cames up with the idea of mixing cheap white wine with home-brew, and adding a dolop of pineapple icecream??? I discovered these drinks when I inadvertantly became the butt of a stand-up comics' jokes. After a good dose of ribbing about the hair, the piercings, the accent and Kangaroos in general, there came a joke involving these monstrosities. He asked if knew what he was talking about and when I said no, he refused to go on with the show until I agreeded to shout him one after the gig. They make these drinks at a place called La Piojera (The Nittery? Sounds less gross in spanish) Apparently this is a pretty dodgy dive given the reaction from my family when I told them where I went. Either way, met a lovely bunch of people there and got rawcously drunk. It was just what I needed.

The most recent surprise I had was going to the zoo at the hill San Cristobal today. When I think of zoo, I'm thinking Toronga or Western Plains Zoo. A place of education, respect and kindness. This is clearly not what all zoos are about. The only things I really enjoyed about this zoo were the Giraffs and the Flamengos. Girraffs think they are the only normal creatures on the planet, everyone else is missing something. And Flamengos are so vane they LOVE being stared at.

June Ride - Vespa Club Santiago

People who've never known the joys of being on two wheels don't understand the fasination for those of us who have.

I went on the June ride with the Vespa Club Santiago last Saturday. Although I had been assured that a spare Lammy Li 150 was going to be brought along for me, our friend with the Lammy was also our friend with a killer hangover who never made it. But thanks once again to our new friend Rodrigo, young Guido with the GT250 offered to take me as his pillion.

It was awesome! As a pillion, I took as many photos as I could and took in the sites and sounds of a city as it should be done - on a scooter.

We had 'almuerso' at a nice little place called Pura Carne (Pure Meat) which inluded all the good things like Pisco Sour, parradilla (BBQ), pure al slavaje (mashed potatoes with onion, tomotoes and cream), wine and this wierd green alcoholic drink that tasted like Listerine. Was brilliant. My new friends who I met on the day, Fransisca and her husband Adrian took me home later that night, very tired and very happy.

The next day, I took the paper over to Tio Pedro's place and over more asado (different type of BBQ), Marco (his son) helped me find a scooty of my own**.

Tia Anna went with me on Monday and we bought it there and then.

2007 Honda Elite 125cc
Just under AU$2000 with 300km on the clock, first two services paid for, 12 months road side assist, 3 month warranty, helmet and gloves. And they assure me they'll be happy to take it back and sell it on consignment when I'm ready to leave. I have to wait a week for the paper work to be finalised, so I'm going to hang out with Tia Sarays in the south for a week till I can ride her. Tia Sarays came up on Saturday to pick up Filipe from the airport, he's come from Belgium for 5 weaks with his girlfriend.

So things are getting better. It's still not easy, but then again that's not the point. But it is nice to know I'm getting my shit together and will be more independant very very soon.

**As a little aside; I am noticing a continuing trend with this wierd drink think. At Tio Pedro's we were drinking red wine with Harina Tostada (sort of like wheat polenta), then with lunch it was red wine with coke. Yes they are both as strange tasting as they sound, not totally bad, just stange**

Bring it on!

Very full on day yesterday, just what I needed.

In brief:
- Videoed a music trio who jumped on my 'mico' and sang thier little hearts out (bought the CD too)
- Came face to face with a wall of Riot Cops with a armoured water canon as back up vehicle
- Watched a protest in support of fixing the public health system
- Saw a many thousand year old mummy and other pre-columbian artifacts
- Saw the shrine to the Patron Saint of Chile "Virgen del Carmen" in the cities largest Catherdral
- went into a cafe/strip joint, a "Cafe con Piernas"
- Got cought in the rain and bought an umbrella from a street vendor
- Ate more hotdogs (gawd I love those things)
- Had a good laugh with a once angry stranger as we crammed about 100 people into a 67 capacity micro thanks to a drivers strike
- Met a guy from LA who left Chile when he was 4 and came back for a 3month holiday 5 years ago
- Got a new piercing, a left ear industrial


So all in all a very full on wonderful day. I'd planned to see a movie but ended up chatting to the piercing dude from LA for about 3 hours so I missed the film. No great loss, was very happy to have missed it.

Today there was sunshine again and after a late start to the day I went to the Feria with my Tia Anna. I remember the Fruit Markets in Fyshwick, Canberra, were like this feria when we first came to Australia and I used to love going there with mum. But then the supermarkets started selling fresh fruit and veg and the markets had to change to compete - they had to become neater, and more sanitised and average. I miss the feria with sellers yelling their wares and anyone with something to sell setting up shop and making a $$$.

Will try to go to another feria or artisan market tomorrow. They say the one at Santa Lucia is good for Mapuche jewellry. After my visit to the Museo de Chile Pre-Colombiano I'm inspired to get myself something from these people, who's traditions are still alive today.

And plus you can never have too many shiny things.

Welcome to Vespa Club de Santiago

There's nothing like a shared drink amongst comrads to make you smile.

I cought up with the Chilean version of the SCSC - the Vespa Club de Santiago. Like us they are a loos bunch of individual with a common passion - scooters. Although a Vespa club specificlly, they are welcoming to all types of scoots from T&G's to Heinkles.

We met at a bar in Tobolaba, near the other end of the Metro line, and shared a drink and bite to eat - not unlike our Tuesday nights. Friendly enough buch of blokes, and just like the SCSC when I first started going they were curious as to how they could attract more women to the club. I told them to be careful what they wished for - if these boys are going to get more girls coming they'll certainly end up loosing a little of the blokeyness I felt that night.

They were all curious to know what had inspired me to contact their little club. Unlike the SCSC, apparently no one visiting from overseas has ever contacted them to make friends before. I told them about people like Phil and Merot from Pride of Cleveland who were here over New Years, and others who have come alonge while in town. (I was going to tell them about Marcelo wanting to have a free place to crash when he visits but I thought that could wait.)

There is a club ride on this Saturday and Rodrigo, who I've had most contact, with has promised to see who has a spare scooty to lend so I can come along. I think they're just a little unsure how to take me but still they are friendly and curious enough to make me feel welcome and lend a hand. For me, I feel a little the same.

And I'm very excited to be going on a ride with them.

Boots

It's still freaking raining.
It's still freaking cold.

But at least I have a new pair of boots.

Never underestimate the power of retail thearapy.
Or the power of a new pair of shoes.

I wanted something to warm my spirits as much as to warm my feet. I was going to brave the rain and public transport chaos into the city but Tia Anna took me to the local mall instead. We got some great snow-hiking boots and bad espresso. I now feel a little better armed to deal with this incessent cold and rain.

Stupid, simple things - but they make me smile.

Is this it?

I´m trying.
I´m really trying.
But it just seems like I´m missing something, like I´m doing something wrong. This wasn´t supposed to be this hard. I´ve walked around for hours in the city today and although there has been some good points, there isn´t the amount of smiling I was hoping for.

I´m a city girl. This is supposed to be where I find it easy. I did Sydney on my own for years and it was never this hard. Not always easy but never this hard.

Ilse says I´m being too hard on myself. That I should take it easy and slowly become accustomed to the city and the country I´ve dropped myself into. Maybe she´s right. I just didn´t think it would be so difficult.

I´keep comparing myself to other I know who have done trips like this to some foreign land and I don´t recall any stories of feeling this low. But I guess I have dived in the deep end on my own. Still is that enough of an excuse?

Maybe if I met more people. Esther suggested I should do couch surfing and although I had seriously considered it for other places I just assumed living with the family here in Santiago would be easy. Tia Anna is wonderful, and Daniela is great but they aren´t in holiday mode with me and I think I´m finding it hard to find my groove without anyone to keep pace with me.

I so wish Mum was here. I so wish Esther was here. I wish they were all coming sooner so I could have someone to play with.

Not a happy start

I´ve spent the better part of the last two days in bed. I´m sick as a dog and it´s so amazingly cold in this place. I feel useless, hopeless and very very homesick. I miss my Viejito, I miss Nyx, I miss my friends, and I miss my independence.

I´d be a total mess if it weren´t for my Tia Anna - my anut - looking after me but at the same time I feel like an invalid being looked after like this. Where is the brave, intellegent, resourceful person I was living in Sydney?? Right now I´m just a snotty, sooky mess.

The stupid part of it all is that I knew this would happen and I planned for it. I knew I would feel shit for the first week or two and that I´d need some time to adjust but now that it´s happening I just feel like a git. Gawd! I wish I would wake up to find I´m well and it´s warm outside.

I went to a wake and a funeral before this cold really hit me. Probably didn´t help my spirits to do something so morbid but it was an opportunity to see such a different event to what I would ever experiance at home that I wanted to see it. It was a real community event, with neighbours doing the hail-mary thing over the body, sharing rides to the cenentary without needing to ask first, starngers stopping in traffic to pay respect. All very interesting and moving.

Only problem, it was so bloody cold that the cold was seeping in through the soles of my sneakers which is what really pushed me over the edge with this cold. You forget, when you live in drought, little details like the fact that wet-cold ground is worse than dry-cold ground. And plus I´m just not used to having freaking SNOW all around me on the hilltops.

I'm Here!!

NEVER FLY AEROLINIAS ARGENTINAS!!!

What was supposed to be a 20hour (or so) flight turned into some kind of nightmare. When we arrived at Buenos Aires airport at about 2pm we were advised that we were a few minutes late but not to worry about connecting flights as the whole airport was delayed by about 2 hours.

No worries we thought and off we all went like cattle to que up for boaring passes for the new flights.

My 2:45pm departure was reschedualed for 5:30pm, so I sat in a restaurant to have a drink and a bite while I waited. The fact that one of the waitresses was crying when I tried to order should have been a sign. I sat patiently for over 1 and 1/2 hours waiting for someone to take my order but never mind, I had plenty of time to kill and I was chatting to a girl at my table.

Around 5pm I started to walk around the transit lounge expecting the notice boards to show me which gate to go to any time now. 5:30pm came and went, 6:30 came and went... The notice boards weren't giving any other information.

People were starting to get very anxious and it seemed everytime we looked there were less and less Aerolinias personel around. Passengers started banging the counter, clapping hands, stamping feet and chanting that they wanted information. Three times the tensions grew to the point where I was sure there was going to be a riot.

By about 8pm there was total chaos. No Aerolineas staff could be seen anywhere, passengers had commandeered the counter and were calling on the phones and fiddling with the computers. I was in such a haze of tiredness and dehydration that it all seems a blur now, but at the time it was quite scary.

Somewhere along the line I found out that the airport was completely closed and that there would be no more flights at least till 11pm. At that time they would re assess the weather to see if the fog had lifted. At this point some of us started calling insurance companies to see if we could claim for hotels but we were advised that it was best to listen to the airports advice and anyway our calls showed that ALL the hotels were now totally booked out.

So with no other options we made camp for the night as best we could. God bless Lance who handed me a clean pair of knickers for the handbag and Lupe who gave me bed socks and sleeping mask to take. They were gold just then.

At about 4am there came an anouncement that another airline was going to be taking off so I trudged over to the transit counuter once more, guessing there would probably be some good sense in this. 2 Hours later, I finally reached the front of the que and was given a 9:20am departure pass. Again to the restaurant and settled in to wait the next 2 hours or so eating a sandwich. At 8:30am I'm pacing around waiting for the gate to open but as I walk past I realise noone around there looks like they're going anywhere soon. The airport is closed again I'm told.

I wonder around a little more. I've lost all sense of time or space. I can't breathe from the amount of passive smoke in the air. I've been coughing up blood since I woke from the dryness in my nose and throat. I go to the transit counter again and this time I have nothing left in me, I'm loosing it.

"I want to get out of here. I don't care how, I need to get out of this place, I'm going insane."
"But m'am, the planes will be moving again any minute, can't you just wait just a little longer?"
I'm bawling at this point, I have no dignity, no pride left, I just can't take anymore of this.
"Love, I've been here since 2pm yesterday and everyone keeps saying just a little more just a little more and I just can't take it anymore!"

One of the staff took me aside to a quiet part and pointed at my plane sitting in the clearing fog. I spent the last hour or so hidden in the loo. To my surprise when I went to wash my tear stained face I realised that the loo in non-smoking (unlike the rest of the airport) and thanks to the fans to get rid of the smells, the air in there is clean. Who would have thought the loo would be the cleanest place to wait.

It was 2pm when my plane finally started to pull out.

I NEVER want to be in that God aweful airport again.

Reset Exit Date!

OK, so in what appears to be typical of Aerolinias Argentinas, my flight was randomly cancelled and I was advised that I am now departing on:

On - Thursday 7th June 2007
at - 0945 Hours
from - Sydney International Airport


This is not altogether bad news as 7 is my lucky number and plus I now have a few more days up my sleave to get my shit sorted (come on, we all knew I was going to leave it to the last minute).

I've had dinner with my closest friends, I've had a farewell party with family, I've gone on one last brilliant scootering weekend, I've almost completely packed up my belongings, I've had a hair cut..... I think I'm all set. The last thing I need to do is say goodbye to my beloved viejito, but we'll put that off till the very last minute I think.

Going, going.....

OK, so time remaining in Aus is starting to run out.

Exit: 5 June 2007 at 0900hrs

Watch this space for updates, I'll be keeping track of my travels on this site.

How exciting!!

Moving Forward

2007 - The year of the big trip.

I'm planning to go over seas this year and although the details are still a little sketchy, the plan is coming together nicely. I've been thinking of doing this trip for a long time now but every time I'd imagine doing it I could always think of many very good excuses why I couldn't do it yet.

I've run out of excuses.

It's terrifying. I'm going to put my things in storage for 6months paid in advance and I'm going to go to Chile with a one way ticket. I'll come back when I've had enough. That could be 2 months, it could be 2 years. If it's 2 months I'll take my time finding a new home, and I'll couch surf in Australia for a while. If it's 2 years I'm really really going to miss the kids.

I don't think this will be a permanent move. I love Australia and I love my family and to be away from them for too long will be very painful.

One pain that I know will be unavoidable however, is that I will have to say goodbye to my Viejito. He can't come with me on this journey and I can't hold back for him. And despite whatever happens on my trip I know that when I leave, it will be the end for us.

Until I leave I'll try not to think about the end. I will revel in every moment we have together and I'll make no excuses for loving him. If anyone has an issue with us they can get fucked. I'll not have the few precious moments left to us be clouded by anyone else's judgement or bullshit.

I'm excited and scared, happy and sad all at the same time.

And who will look after my plants?