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.