tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78324587942964990442024-03-20T00:29:13.147-07:00Il faut cultiver notre jardin12 weeks gardening leave, and counting...Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.comBlogger74125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-68665219198451129432012-04-29T13:11:00.001-07:002012-04-29T13:55:14.405-07:00Latin America: League Tables<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. PATAGONIA</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Why then, and this is not only my particular case - does this barren land possess my mind? I find it hard to explain... But it might partly be because it enhances the horizons of imagination." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/02/nowhere-man-patagonia.html">Nowhere Man</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/02/infinite-ice.html">Infinite Ice</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/02/bienvenidos-chile.html">Bienvenidos a Chile</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/02/towering-in-imagination-chilean.html">Towering in the Imagination</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/02/tierra-del-fuego-los-cuernos.html">Tierra del Fuego</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2. URUGUAY</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We knew practically nothing about Uruguay before getting to Buenos Aires and starting to plan our itinerary in detail. Punta del Este sounded like a suitably hedonistic place to spend a week on the beach early in the trip, to decompress and disguise the gringo pallor we brought with us from</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> London. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This charming, friendly, neat little country had the most beautiful beaches, prairie reminiscent of wilder stretches of Patagonia, cobblestone streets like you might encounter in Lisbon, and one of the top five meals of the trip.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/uruguay-off-grid-in-cabo-polonio.html">Off Grid in Uruguay</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/uruguay-jose-ignacio.html">Jose Ignacio</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/909km-in-uruguay-colonia.html">909km in Uruguay</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3. ESCUELA VIESULAS</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We saw many startling and memorable things on our trip. There are colours, images and tastes that will stay with us. But one of the dearest recollections for me will be home schooling, away from home. Lessons required a degree of preparation and inventiveness. Rigorousness and regularity perhaps waned as the weeks went by, but goodness we had rich materials to draw on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My favourite of all were the installations at Tierra Patagonia, which were the perfect counterpoint to the finds in the surrounding landscape, and anticipated the museum and aquarium visits we made later on the trip. The best lessons were the ones where we were all deepening our knowledge together: the voyages of Darwin's Beagle, the straits of Magellan, the bus routes around Buenos Aires, glacial landscapes, the ritual and political significance of gold. Teaching has got to be the noblest profession. Respect. </span><br />
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<a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/ate-logo-europa.html"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rio, School</span></a><br />
<a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/mens-sana-in-corpore-sano.html"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mens Sana in Corpore Sano</span></a><br />
<a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/buenos-aires-escuela-viesulas.html"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Escuela Viesulas</span></a><br />
<a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/02/darwin-in-patagonia.html"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Darwin in Patagonia</span></a><br />
<a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/02/happy-valentines-days-finca-valentina.html"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Happy Valentines Days</span></a><br />
<a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/02/salta-soldiers-saints-and-sacrifices.html"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Salta: Soldiers, Saints & Sacrifice</span></a><br />
<a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/school-at-dume-point.html"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">School at Dume Point</span></a><br />
<a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/sfo-school-of-arts-sciences.html"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">School of Arts & Sciences</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4. ROCK & ROLL</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Before we embarked on travels, I was fixated on the idea that over three months of downtime, I would want to spend a week each on three of my favourite sporting pursuits - snowboarding, rock climbing, and surfing. I have a lot of work to do on my technique with all three. Three weeks proved an ambitious target with three ladies in the retinue. Not to mention the constant tug of fine food, fine wine and idle sun worship. But I was thrilled to dive into the deepest Alpine powder I've experienced to date, to climb Chilean rock and to surf both Atlantic and Pacific waves. And what a thrill to have friends and family for company along the way. </span><br />
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<a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/easy-like-sunday-morning.html"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Easy Like Sunday Morning</span></a><br />
<a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/jose-ignacio-surf.html"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jose Ignacio Surf</span></a><br />
<a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/lima-surf-city.html"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lima, Surf City</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/five-days-in-andermatt.html">Hospenthal Hospitality</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5. ON HORSEBACK</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A completely different perspective to travelling overland by foot, bike, car, train. What a marvellous creature the horse is. I'm still to read that account of mankind's intertwined history with this remarkable animal. </span><br />
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<a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/02/estancia-at-end-of-road.html"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Estancia at the End of the Road</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/02/little-gauchos.html">Little Gauchos</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">6. ANDES CROSSING</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Patagonia was empty. Ravishingly empty, windswept and changeable. Crossing the Andes from San Pedro de Atacama in Chile over into Salta Argentina was also ravishingly empty. Although whereas Patagonia the landscape seemed to move and shift around you with the elements, all crashing glaciers and supernatural winds, the Andes looked eternally still. And the register of colours was altogether something else. Patagonia has the biggest mass of ice outside the poles. We encountered thunderstorms, but the stretch of Andes we traversed borders the driest deserts on the planet. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/02/crossing-andes-again.html">Crossing the Andes, Again</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">7. INCA GOLD</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was a revelation to learn about the civilization of the Incas, to visit their university in the sky, Macchu Picchu, and to marvel at the golden treasures that for them had such symbolic and ritual power. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/time-is-on-my-side.html">Time is On My Side</a></span><br />
<a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/museo-larco-golden-years.html"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Museo Larco: Golden Years</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/machu-picchu-stairway-to-heaven.html">Stairway to Heaven</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">8. RIO, CITY of MANY DIMENSIONS</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rio is such a city of superlatives that there's little to say that hasn't been said. It was hallucinatory to hop into a helicopter with Iris to circle Christ at eye-level and see the little paradise on Earth at his feet from way on high. A heady experience which will remain vividly remembered. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/vertical-rio.html">Vertical Rio</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/ipanema-sunset.html">Ipanema Sunset</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/mens-sana-in-corpore-sano.html">Mens Sana in Corpore Sano</a></span><br />
<a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/riot-in-rio.html"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Riot in Rio</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">9. COMIDA: FOOD & WINE</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The food stands out like a landmark, a very real feature of the landscape of experiences from our trip. I can barely remember a bad meal. In all of South America. That goes for street food as much as the culinary beacons in Lima and elsewhere. Most memorable South American meals? For me it has to be Garzon, Uruguay; Estancia Nibepo Aike, Argentina; Cebicheria El Boliche, Cartagena, Colombia; La Gloria, Lima, Peru; Finca Valentina, Salta, Argentina. Oh, and the seaweed fritters on the beach in Cabo Polonio, Uruguay.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/cartagena-columbia.html">Cartagena</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/lima-decompression-dining.html">Dining, Driving & Decompressing in Lima</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/uruguay-garzon.html">Garzon</a></span><br />
<a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/perfect-day-in-pampas.html"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Perfect Day in the Pampas</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">10. CALIFORNIA</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This will seem like cheating. But you realize what a blessed place this bankrupt state is, and in travelling there as the coda to our South American trip I was able to appreciate for the first time the geological continuity all along the Pacific coast, the way the Andes and the Rockies are all part of the same spine that links these two continents, so different, so alike, to form the Americas. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Landscapes far South of the Equator reminded me of previous trips around the American West - Arizona, Utah, Nevada. Is California the realized promise of the Mediterranean richness of these coastal stretches? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/la-goin-to-california.html">Goin' to California</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/la-on-two-wheels.html">LA on Two Wheels</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://il-faut-cultiver-notre-jardin.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/sfo-luck-of-few.html">Wear Some Flowers in Your Hair</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Often on our trip I confronted the LatAm conundrum: how could the Southern continent in this pair of blessed lands have gone so often so astray in the modern world? To coincide with our return to London, Argentina announces the expropriation of Repsol in YPF. We're back in the pages of Joseph Conrad's Nostromo. Our return also coincides with the publication of a book that puts it down to the Spanish-American War, which led a group of intellectuals and charismatic politicians to anti-Americanism. The resulting deep antipathy to free markets led to a century of relative economic decline. Perhaps. But we saw enough on our trip to be wholeheartedly optimistic about the dynamism, warmth and natural wealth of places like Brazil, Uruguay, Chile and Colombia. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In two months, it was barely possible to do justice to any single one of them, much less the seven South American countries that we visited. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So consider this journey a reconnaissance trip. We now know where we would like to return, to learn more and to linger.</span><br />
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<br />Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-24062349437866610322012-03-31T03:23:00.002-07:002012-03-31T03:52:26.319-07:00New York: Last Stop<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUmsExlmxhYDNNukrapyjkjpA3cmsG4r8owcPzS-5Kx_nyhDHlO2JlXCHrj0vlDKKtKJ8IoABAdsWJHKVvbYeAPxB8Ma-hbZr9d2IdwV7SjOd3JQzy4Nefc3OLZUV1VNKhKCzJqQErxnAB/s1600/IMG_3814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUmsExlmxhYDNNukrapyjkjpA3cmsG4r8owcPzS-5Kx_nyhDHlO2JlXCHrj0vlDKKtKJ8IoABAdsWJHKVvbYeAPxB8Ma-hbZr9d2IdwV7SjOd3JQzy4Nefc3OLZUV1VNKhKCzJqQErxnAB/s400/IMG_3814.JPG" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm left savouring my Porchetta sandwich and fennel chorizo bake, as well as the fine Zinfandel from Vino Volo as we board the flight bound for JFK. Time enough for a Peet's espresso, but not enough to avail ourselves of the Yoga room. San Francisco's Terminal 2 has to be one of the most civilized airports in the country, if not the hemisphere, and honestly one of the best meals of the trip. It's like a showcase for Silicon Valley wealth. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo58hpwkI3cT_KcFcOHXFClDPmoY-rE1CmEk35snFvXMAmZ74ZHrVO0kzxnTRRpkslejGLg_U75jiIVgm8IAuXvmfnGk2j47VWjkGUHWEr7Mu4oJcs5_Dqn266V-3ILIg0ScCNnDUE2zv-/s1600/IMG_3803.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo58hpwkI3cT_KcFcOHXFClDPmoY-rE1CmEk35snFvXMAmZ74ZHrVO0kzxnTRRpkslejGLg_U75jiIVgm8IAuXvmfnGk2j47VWjkGUHWEr7Mu4oJcs5_Dqn266V-3ILIg0ScCNnDUE2zv-/s200/IMG_3803.jpg" width="149" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The American Airlines terminal at JFK is not bad for a bankrupt airline, but can't possibly compete. And the road into town is more uneven than many we've driven well South of the border, but the Empire State is a blue beacon as we round the bend in Queens and majestic Manhattan comes into view against the night sky. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We're lucky for Pierre and Arielle's hospitality on the Upper East Side - back in the old 'hood! Their apartment is a real oasis in this frantic town (the City that Never Sleeps? Isn't there a Circle in Dante's hell where people are consigned to perpetual wakefulness?). I'll lie down in the sun for a siesta with Beethoven and the delicious smells of Arielle's kitchen wafting up. Or park myself like Tabby, their cat, on a wondowsill to read or daydream about the trip, the past, the future.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">Pierre and Arielle are also famed for their dinner parties, for the excellent cooking as much as the eclectic and fascinating company. It's good to catch up with Joseph and Jenny over Malbec from Colome', to begin my re-education on markets ("Brazil beats UK to become world's 6th largest economy"), the French election ("Sarko the comeback kid? No way...") and red meat vs veganism (you can imagine which side of the argument the French around the table took). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cruising along the FDR at twilight reminds me of the three years of dawn's early light I witnessed commuting from Manhattan to our offices in Stamford. I still shiver at the thought of the 4am wake-up call, but there were magical moments seeing the sun rise over the river. In many ways it was often my favorite part of the day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Martine's neighbourhood is where we rolled last summer in the Dodge Challenger RT, taking the straightaways by the river like something out of Streets of Fire. Thanks to everyone who came to the Bronx to hear highlights of our little tale, and especially Mom and Vytas for hiking over all the way from DC and Applebachsville. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The slideshow was curtailed and chaotic but fun, the champagne cocktail euphoric, and the local liquor store run a fascinating detour, with all the merchandise behind bullet-proof glass (do I go for the Colt 45 or the Moet?). Especially thanks to Martine for hosting the party, and taking delivery of all those postcards over the previous eight weeks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Resolutions from running the ramparts I Cartagena dissolve in so many toasts with friends and family. But I do manage a run around the Central Park Reservoir, my old circuit. It's always fascinated me the culture or running in the Park, so many shapes and sizes, and so many people that just shouldn't be putting themselves through such suffering, but do. Then of course there's the fit girls in athletic kit. I am a big fan of fit girls in athletic kit. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On another afternoon I retrace my usual route from UES to the office, this time to meet new colleagues in our NYC office. Nostalgia? Not quite. I wouldn't move back to Manhattan. Not in a hurry, anyway. To call it a great town is an understatement, but for me an "Escape to New York" would feel like a step backward. And the world is so vast and diverse, there is so much to experience. And I don't think Flo would jump at it the way she might have in prior years. Something to so with the oppressive heating in winter, exaggerated A/C in summer and the tyrrany of "controlled environments". </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Flo hits the Armory and Playtime, the Kid's Fashion trade fair, while Jasmine and Iris are whisked of to Uncle Vytas' and Jessica's place in Applebachsville PA. "It's like the crazy cat carnival" says Vytas, and indeed these two really know how to get the party started, and keep it going. There's gardening, kayaking, and of course skateboarding. The first custom skateboard to come from Vytas' shop is the Vampire Slayer special, artwork by the Pixies. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For me, time to acclimatize to lower altitudes. I'm the advance party heading back to London, as I was when we first decided to move there. Seeing so many friends and family on the way back - and I wish we'd been able to see more of you! - has been a wonderful glide path to landing back in London soon. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Empire State is white on departure, a visual duet with the Chrysler spire, elegant and inspiring. And there's a full moon in the sky, like the day I handed in my resignation and embarked on this little journey, and the longer professional journey ahead. The story comes full circle over a single quarter, thank you for reading along. Now once again I've got a blank slate as I head back to London, though so much richer than when we left it. </span></div>
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</div>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-40616901718703816372012-03-25T11:23:00.000-07:002012-03-25T11:24:05.340-07:00SFO: the Luck of the Few<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, 'Times New Roman';">Life could have been quite different. Before heading out to live and work in Moscow, I had a place at Berkeley to study Political Economy. In a parallel universe perhaps I am an academic and a published author on the process of democratization and macroeconomic stabilization in the former Soviet republics. Or maybe just a surfer. No regrets, though, however much I love the Mediterranean lifestyle out here. It's worked out to be a rich and rewarding ride so far. I have a lot that I'm grateful for. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: -webkit-auto;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: -webkit-auto;">The Mamas & The Papas will tell you that "If You're Going to San Francisco, Be Sure to Wear Some Flowers in Your Hair... You're Gonna Meet Some Gentle People There". You will also meet some people seriously down on their luck. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Many American cities I imagine have their socio-economic contrasts, given the extremes of income inequality that this fine nation has managed to achieve. In San Francisco, though, a lot of unlucky people seem to be still tripping on the afterburner of the Summer of Love. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are a lot of things that are free in SF, and I suspect that and the (mostly) mild weather make this town a lot more tolerable for the marginalized than many other US cities. Striking though to see the black buses of Silicon valley, with their battalions of young Zinga and Google techies, weaving around the homeless in the Mission. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even on Market Street, you have to dodge the Jesus freaks and hobos with shopping trolleys like something from Cormac McCarthy's The Road. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We hop on a tram there, a Philadelphia special. There was still an operational tramway in Chestnut Hill, a suburb of Philadelphia, when I was a kid. And they've been reinstated in parts of Milan, though they have to compete with sleek bullet train designs now. Here in San Francisco you have them salvaged from defunct tramways all over the country, and imported from all over the world. You can spot the orange Milan carriages a mile off, looking buttoned up and uptight alongside the art deco numbers from Chicago and Baltimore. Nice way to ride through town. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On our last evening, we're woken at about 4am by the swaying of the bed. At first I think the neighbours upstairs must be practicing nocturnal acrobatics, but then realize we are on the top floor. It's an earthquake, 4.0 on the Richter scale we later learn. What did Fabrice tell us about earthquake drill in Lima? It's all evaporated from my mind... </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Time for us to move to solid ground. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Manhattan, built on rock, and able to withstand even the shock of Lehman Brothers, next stop. </span><br />
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<br /></div>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-506714461493855102012-03-25T07:19:00.002-07:002012-03-25T07:19:43.999-07:00Marin by Day and Night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBntnQXVsyZEIC9cx1rD6n6PVazReAJ3GSFK0iuP9o531IDoOUCugaLkQqxm4bWQchItSvGVzCkCgv8kwc0MDwGzWu1d66Q89uuD3GfLa-DaQoR47MdBjchADhiAwUDyau7b3fGUFbZJLG/s1600/IMG_0350.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBntnQXVsyZEIC9cx1rD6n6PVazReAJ3GSFK0iuP9o531IDoOUCugaLkQqxm4bWQchItSvGVzCkCgv8kwc0MDwGzWu1d66Q89uuD3GfLa-DaQoR47MdBjchADhiAwUDyau7b3fGUFbZJLG/s200/IMG_0350.jpeg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We catch up with Flo's cousin Alain and his family on the beach in Marin. These occasional encounters are a great reminder of parallel lives in a family, branches of a Swiss tree that now span from Lausanne to Los Angeles. Suddenly, Paul and his cousin Lucien are at university toying with careers in tech, while Marie contemplates film school at USC. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We catch up on the intervening years as the girls make sandy cocktails and we dive into the delicious turkey sandwiches and home-made beignet of our windy picnic. Thank you Haruyo! Watching the riptide is like seeing water flowing uphill, waves that double back on each other and break heading out to the ocean. Surfers dodge the rocks that have tumbled off the cliffs into the Ocean. This is not the gentle swell of Pacifica. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: -webkit-auto;">In the evening, we dine on the other side of Marin (great to be able to cross the Golden Gate by night and day...), at Celine and Massimo's. Celine is one of Florence's oldest friends (here in CA she'll have seen three of them in a single week), but it's the first time the girls or I have a chance to meet her or their daughter Gabriella, who we've heard so much about. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Celine and Massimo's determination has helped Gabriella enjoy a normal life among children in the local school, in spite of Gabriella's condition. Her alert and nimble mind is out of synch with her motor reflexes and muscles. Joyful, playful Gabriella has accomplished astounding feats of self-expression and coordination in spite of the entrapment of her unruly body. She's a charmer, has her circle of friends at school and continues to confound the doctors with her progress. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Massimo took over a local kitchen when the chef broke his arm, a fateful turn away from the publishing industry that he's worked in for years. And now he and Celine are opening a restaurant in Larkspur. What a treat, then, to eat in his kitchen! Look out for Laboratorio Organico, opening soon. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thank you for the kind invitation Famiglia Covello, another illustration and reminder to the girls and to us alike that there are so many routes to family prosperity and happiness. </span></div>
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<br /></div>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-59113572486620436732012-03-18T01:23:00.000-07:002012-03-18T09:23:22.547-07:00Easy Like Sunday Morning<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Is this the Rockaway Beach of The Ramones? I thought it was in Queens...". We're not sure, but anyway the shoreline is tricky, so Auste and I carry on cruising to Pacifica. Normally, this place would be shrouded in fog. And not just in these winter months, but pretty much year round. But this morning it's clear as a bell. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And by 8am on a Sunday, the beach is full of surfers. There are neat sets of friendly rollers coming in. This isn't the "Locals Only" terrain I've seen on the shores of the Atlantic, in the Basque Country and parts of France. You'd almost think they're all part of the same fraternity for the friendly vibe. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fuelled with a big tankard of Caboose coffee and in my wetsuit, I'm toasty in the cold Pacific, though not really awake until the first dunking. Winter water is like a high voltage electric shock when your head goes under. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Without booties, soon my feet are numb, so we park ourselves on the beach to watch and enjoy the warming sun. Then go back for a few more rides. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm reassured to see so many longboarders, and so many of them even older than me. And I love these beaches in California, that make me feel almost like I know what I'm doing in the water. How cool would it be to live in a place where you could go surfing before work? </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Coffee on the rocks, Rockaway Beach</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-23072087641592323872012-03-17T14:06:00.000-07:002012-03-17T14:06:35.915-07:00SFO: School of Arts & Sciences<div style="text-align: -webkit-center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another fine school day in the Academy of Sciences</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And paying a visit to Adobe and De Young... </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Skateboarding is not a crime... </span></td></tr>
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<br /></div>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-67949060367480380132012-03-17T05:42:00.001-07:002012-03-17T07:09:16.429-07:00San Francisco: California Dreamin' on Such a Winter's Day<br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco." - Mark Twain</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #cccccc; line-height: 16px;">It's chilly on arrival, but not for long. Before we know it, we're back in the Mediterranean here in SFO. Warm enough for a boat ride, some surfing, even an picnic on the beach... </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's the perfect afternoon to circumnavigate Alcatraz, listening to the loud whisper of the traffic on the Bay Bridge above and the quiet lapping of the water under the hull of "Sea Vous Play". </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Girls take turns at the wheel, but are mostly interested in ringing the bell, announcing "It's Party Time!". I wonder where they get that from, surely not the influence of their Auntie Auste! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Inspired by an episode of Human Planet, Iris says: "can we pretend we are a family living on the boat?" </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks Captain Jeff and Christine for the Chardonnay, for introducing us to Tico, and for a magical tour of the bay.</span><br />
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</div>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-40010820767036102122012-03-17T00:17:00.000-07:002012-03-17T04:59:15.174-07:00School at Dume Point<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_LVMrDAOGg_2RxbY8Ke2TeyaNmlMNri_xVPrPaWkjuGw57VHF9blUED2pDPRG3sVvm_hV_BBEGS26hiXJEw76oWz7im-z3xBIt-ydA8MNdXe8ltUb4WsSJH7g_jEiBE8cgZVvIhz7EBXU/s1600/IMG-20120228-00370.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_LVMrDAOGg_2RxbY8Ke2TeyaNmlMNri_xVPrPaWkjuGw57VHF9blUED2pDPRG3sVvm_hV_BBEGS26hiXJEw76oWz7im-z3xBIt-ydA8MNdXe8ltUb4WsSJH7g_jEiBE8cgZVvIhz7EBXU/s320/IMG-20120228-00370.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Aquarium at Long Beach makes for the perfect rendezvous with Flo's childhood friend Helene and her mathematician boyfriend Martial. Helene is a Long Beach local. Martial is over from Paris, where he teaches theoretical maths (I've always admired people who can reason on different plane, the theoretical rather than applied mathematicians out there). Flo and I know a thing or two about long-distance relationships, but still, Paris-LA is quite a commute. Lucky coincidence that they're both in LA while we're there ourselves. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For Jas and Iris, it's another fine day at school, becoming acquainted with the sea life of the Pacific, stroking the amazing skins of sharks and manta rays ("for real..!"), making recordings of their own whale sounds, watching the feeding of the eels (the diver reminds me of the statue of </span><a href="http://www.digitalapoptosis.com/archives/italy/001644.html" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Laocoon</a><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and his sons in the Vatican, all entangled with snakes) and witnessing in 3D the effects of rising sea levels on the world's coastal communities.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Playing tag with the sea lions</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Later we do a field trip to see the tidal pools by cliffs of Dume Point. I love this about the cities of California. Nature comes right up to your doorstep. Sometimes it even lets itself in. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Jas catches a starfish while we watch the seagulls catch crabs and mussels to smash on the rocks. There's evidence that one of them got taken down by a large dog, judging from the tracks in the sand. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">These lessons come alive along this beach: </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">CSI Los Angeles.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">School in LA also takes in the Olympian heights of the Getty, perched atop LA like a pantheon, looking like a small city with its own train and restaurants (or, less charitably, like a giant hospital complex, as Flo puts it). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Getty wears it's high culture heart on its sleeve. It's especially conspicuous here on teh West Coast, which is so new world against the Old Masters on display. It's a glorious collection. But like Getty's "Roman" villa, it all seems so C20th. Exactly what you might expect I suppose from a tycoon who was a protagonist of the American Century, competing with the East Coast institutions and other magnates to outdo each other on amassing the greatest cultural capital. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If not for the LA cityscape below, I might be in the modern wings of the Louvre or the National Gallery, the Met or even MoMA in NYC. All of them wonderful, but still cleaving to a dated sense of mission. If you want a good sense of what's happening now, or a well curated sense of the past, seek out private collections and smaller establishments like Maison Particuliere in Brussels </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">or Palazzo Fortuny in Venice. Here you will find startling juxtapositions and contrasts. And I don't mean in separate wings.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Amazing setting for the Getty, though. As we leave, I find myself wondering, again, what are museums for? Maybe they're the secular churches of our age, providing <a href="http://www.religionforatheists.com/">religion for atheists</a>. They are certainly good for schooling, and can be terrific fun. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; text-align: left;">Especially when the Kids Room is as playful and theatrical as the Getty's. Jas and Iris illustrate a larger than life illuminated manuscript, luxuriate in a make-believe Louis XV canopy bed. But then we dash off to find cultural artefacts like you can't find in London, Paris or New York, laid out like a gallery along PCH, Hollywood Boulevard, Rodeo Drive.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sonogram of the song of the grey whale... and of Iris!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Living in an illuminated manuscript</span></td></tr>
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<br /></div>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-81870375067960652522012-03-12T14:14:00.001-07:002012-03-12T23:06:16.750-07:00Losing at the Oscars<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Readers of this blog will know that we're quite a cinematic household. So you can imagine how charmed we were to catch the Oscars in Los Angeles, a few streets from Hollywood, and just a few meters from where Marilyn used to live, with a bunch of industry professionals.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There were ballots, of course, and a betting pool. I opted to go with my heart. "What are you, crazy?", asked Rich, an industry veteran. And indeed, I came bottom of the pack, with a low score of 5 vs his 15. He took home the cash. I took home the realization that the Oscars, even moreso perhaps than anything we meet in the markets, is the ultimate Keynesian beauty contest. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not that Keynes was particularly beautiful. But he sure was smart, and this is how he explained price fluctuations in equity markets. In using a hypothetical beauty contest announced in a newspaper to illustrate his point, he argues against choosing simply the prettiest face (definitely Rooney Mara, for example...).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">“It is not a case of choosing those [faces] that, to the best of one’s judgment, are really the prettiest, nor even those that average opinion genuinely thinks the prettiest. We have reached the third degree where we devote our intelligences to anticipating what average opinion expects the average opinion to be. And there are some, I believe, who practice the fourth, fifth and higher degrees.” (Keynes, <i>General Theory of Employment Interest and Money</i>, 1936).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Does that make my opinion above or below average? Not sure. In any event, you'll guess from the thumbnails who I thought the real contenders were. Best acceptance speeches of the evening were Christopher Plummer and Asghar Farhadi. And</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> the real winner of the evening has got to be Paris, or perhaps even France, festooned with prizes for Hugo, Midnight in Paris and of course the Artist (during which Flo and I fell asleep...). Americans love the French after all. I honestly doubt whether Paris and France are currently held in as high esteem by the French themselves. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyway, thanks again Eve for the screening (if not for the last 15mins), and for a wonderful dinner.</span></div>
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<br /></div>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-33082675653396816122012-03-11T11:40:00.000-07:002012-03-11T11:40:39.567-07:00LA on Two Wheels<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Host with the most: even more bikes than me! We take a spin to Santa Monica</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Beach Cruisers on Abbot Kinney</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Hercules in repose</span></td></tr>
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<br />Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-81869897251093417492012-03-11T04:24:00.002-07:002012-03-11T04:24:46.355-07:00LA: Goin' to California<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">California may be the closest you'll come in the US to Mediterranean quality of life. The food, the wine, the weather. Only here you also have American standards of service. If it all feels somewhat familiar after all the foreign and fascinating things we've seen South of the Equator, it's still a far cry from London or even New York. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Arriving in Los Angeles, I trade in Gabriel Garcia Marquez for John Fante. <i>One Hundred Years of Solitude</i> at times felt like an enhanced and saturated version of many of the places we visited on our journey. The rich tapestry of episodes might have been illustrations to our very own storybook, and a kaleidoscopic tour of South American history and humor. Coming to California, I have a tear in my eye for this very human, universal story, and the fact that turning the last page marks, for us, the end of Summer and the end of our adventures in South America. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But it's good to be here. Visiting friends and family in the US of A before we head back to school and back to London. Our friends live next door to a house once belonging to Marilyn Monroe. <i>My Week With Marilyn </i>makes for a happy in-flight coincidence (starts out charming, ends up a caricature, but a few delightful moments and some fine acting in parts). But it's John Fante's <i>Ask the Dust</i> that takes centre-stage as the<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Augmented_reality"> augmented reality </a>app for Los Angeles. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are some really old trees in Brentwood. Beautiful, massive Roman pines. The towering palms that look like they're holding up the sky. For the longest time, this was the frontier, and I think for many East Coast travellers it still is. But Los Angeles has long started to create a history of its own. Faux-Tudor has assumed the designation of an architectural style with its own associations and rightful place in history. Witness the historic-contemporary resonance of Chateaux Marmont, for example: "In the hierarchy of place here, there is no more exalted locus than the Chateau Marmont. The hotel high above Sunset Boulevard has launched a thousand clichéd magazine profiles, is legendary for bad behavior by its inmates, and is the place where business is not so much done as memorialized.' (NY Times). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The "Armed Response" signs among the majestic trees, with the names of the alarm companies in charge of protecting the inhabitants and their property, would not be out of place in Lima or Buenos Aires. A bit more graceful than barbed wire and window bars though. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Life is good in this part of town. Although California is in bankruptcy, I suspect that life is good in many parts of this state. Not dissimilar to La Dolce Vita in parts of distressed Southern Europe. Our arrival coincides with a cold snap, which has the locals in state of panic. But it still feels Mediterranean compared to London at this time of year. Although I was keen on another muscle car, like the kickass Dodge Challenger RT we rented last summer (still intent on bringing one to London... imagine the resale value!), Flo's "family car" logic prevails, and as she will be doing as much of the driving, we settle for a small but sporty white Merc. We blend in with this vehicle so well I feel like we're permanent residents. Your car is a very integral part of your life out here. Our hosts have a Chevy Volt, and dream about a Tesla. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgayOFGylwZNN_8fkd0DiPk9rXctt5tB8bRRnecVfOV3HlFfLo5KQBZbsLftit1uSQe6Eb3j5H98PtEEPe69GLUcp9wpfH3kxIIV6TnrMspVbkK4uPayrEmXX35kQThyZLyX2JIOnINTAPp/s1600/IMG_3365.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgayOFGylwZNN_8fkd0DiPk9rXctt5tB8bRRnecVfOV3HlFfLo5KQBZbsLftit1uSQe6Eb3j5H98PtEEPe69GLUcp9wpfH3kxIIV6TnrMspVbkK4uPayrEmXX35kQThyZLyX2JIOnINTAPp/s200/IMG_3365.jpg" width="149" /></a><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We blast down the HOV lanes of the freeways to get from A to B. HOV stands for High Occupancy Vehicle, ie 2 or more passengers. It is amazing how many lonesome drivers there are on these vast freeways, which seem to be brimming with motor traffic at any time of day. This is the land of the Drive In or the Drive Through, moreso perhaps than anywhere else I've been in the US. Drive In Cinema, Drive-Through Bank, Drive In Church. Naturally, we take the girls for the burger ritual of lunch at In-and-Out Burger "Only burgers, only fries since 1948", as the attendant in his scouts cap gleefully tells us, launching into a veritable Mission Statement when he learns that we are from London. The special sauce and the fries are very good. Jas and Iris insist that we get the car in gear before they start eating. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The sign juggler for Jiffy Lube at the traffic light reminds me of the intersection mimes and jugglers in Buenos Aires. Flo makes the occasional thriftstore stop, finding as she always does something life-enhancing, and almost free. Rollin' is fun in a car with some real pick up and excellent <a href="http://www.kxlu.com/">indy college radio </a>playing. We learn about the medicinal use of marijuana in these parts. Not so different from the mild stimulus of coca leaves (far) South of the border? I check out the exceptional custom charity surfboards at Lost & Found. However, the Vintage Skate Gallery and Red Star Skates of Abbot Kinney are gone.... But to lament the passage of time is a sign of old age, so I'll shut up. We do have an amazing Italian meal at <a href="http://thetastingkitchen.com/">The Tasting Kitchen</a>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is a town I've visited many times. Visiting my sister Auste when she lived in a Venice Beach bungalow, touring the anodyne offices of Capital International on an analyst roadshow... It's a wonderful place for downtime with the Girls. As <a href="http://www.pirouetteblog.com/mood-of-the-day/travel-cool-days-in-california/">Flo says on Pirouette</a>, "a paradise for kids, 7 to 77", and it tempts us to stay. The livin' is easy. I don't think I've been more fascinated or felt more at home than this visit. </span><br />
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<br /></div>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-14881637065843547692012-03-09T05:12:00.000-08:002012-03-09T05:12:18.115-08:00Welcome to Miami<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">This used to be an annual winter escape for us when we were living in New York, trading Manhattan's snow and Christmas deco for the perfect cocktail of highbrow and lowbrow, the high-minded and hedonistic that is Art Basel Miami. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Alas, as I no longer work for the corporate sponsor of Art Basel, this junket's probably a thing of the past. Or at least access to the inner chamber of the VIP lounge, which positively reeked of high net worth, and where I might have a quiet conversation with a celebrity portfolio manager from Chicago, or the CEO of Italy's most influential bank. Then we'd adjourn for Iggy Pop or The Peaches, live on the beach, and drink vodka, neat, until dawn. One thing I will say for my former employer, they really knew how to throw a party, once upon a time.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">On this airport connection, we have just enough time to clear customs, check in for the onward journey to LA, and hit South Beach for lunch. Jeff is still there, working as the maitre d' at The Hotel of South Beach, which continues to age well with its timeless take on 50's glam. And to serve a killer hamburger. We've stayed here on practically every trip to Miami, once with Paul for Spring Break, with Kim and Misha on our stopover, bound for Grenada. And even once with Iris )aka "Iggy Pop"!), who accompanied us in a baby basket for gallery openings and pasta tastings chez De Niro. </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">This time, we catch a glimpse of the beach, from a distance, down a glass of CA Chardonnay in preparation for LAX, and are bundled back into a cab for the ride back across the Causeway to MIA.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-36223089781536998712012-03-08T08:55:00.001-08:002012-03-08T08:55:33.850-08:00Time Is On My Side<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Avianca is an airline that has its act together. And as effective ambassador for the country it represents, it suggests that Colombia really has its act together. That was certainly the impression we had on the ground, as well as in the air. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">And I was reminded of a contest I entered when I was about Jasmine's age, to make a poster for Avianca airlines. You had to be twelve years or younger, and the prize was a family trip to Colombia. Somehow the idea came about as a way of possibly paying a visit to a distant uncle, who was a cattle rancher in Colombia. My submission was a vivid picture of a dragon ferrying passengers from New York to Bogota. I worked on it for days, maybe weeks. It was deeply disappointing not to win, especially since I was convinced the very adult-looking winning entry was clearly designed by that child's parents, and not the kid himself. It didn't occur to me at the time that perhaps it had something to do with the fact that there are no dragons in Colombia. Not even in Colombian mythology, as far as I can tell. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">I'm not sure what ever became of my distant relative, but I'm intent on finding out. Particularly now that visions of rural Colombia are very present in my imagination, leafing through One Hundred Years of Solitude, rolling past Gabriel Garcia Marquez' house in a horse and buggy in Cartagena. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">What strikes me though is how so many forgotten childhood episodes have come back to me on this trip. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">It may simply be the luxury of having time on your hands, though I suspect it's down to travelling with kids: all sorts of reminiscences from early days have resurfaced in my memory during this trip.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"> Losing my Robin Hood action figure in a church in Rome, being denied the schoolyard gift of a Batman balaclava by my grandpa, crazy games with gasoline and babydoll strollers. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">One of our favorite recurring dinner party conversation topics was "crazy episodes from when we were kids". Flo would relate the time JM, CR and she would dress up in head-to-toe ski-gear in mid-summer to brave the thorny hedges to nick pears from the neighbour's</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"> yard. She got caught red-handed, sweating profusely in the midday sun. Some of the tales were heavily edited. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">In the process, though, I've stumbled upon reminders of distant South American relations, my uncle's "Heart of Darkness" experience with a tyrannical missionary in Chile, highlights of my parents gallivant across the continent on their round-the-world honeymoon. Maybe one day the girls will relate to their children espidoes from this trip. Who knows what little vignettes will loom largest in their memories...? </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cartagena, morning of departure: goodbye South America, goodbye Summer</td></tr>
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<br />Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-45772678230025453402012-03-08T05:12:00.000-08:002012-03-08T05:12:00.611-08:00Counting our Blessings in Baru<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwa7PWk395iyR5lb3KN0Bp6y5mg8hrXedAzw7P4tLvuCqeOj20EJeD4hialaecGECWJxt_41nRe0LNNDsUhklbfa-31c9ykR7B3hdz2GSKhhvwOrBopm1hvtoSpTITU9qFM-XxV4-82fBX/s1600/IMG_3223.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwa7PWk395iyR5lb3KN0Bp6y5mg8hrXedAzw7P4tLvuCqeOj20EJeD4hialaecGECWJxt_41nRe0LNNDsUhklbfa-31c9ykR7B3hdz2GSKhhvwOrBopm1hvtoSpTITU9qFM-XxV4-82fBX/s320/IMG_3223.JPG" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Somehow, the week of idling on the beach that we'd envisaged, between visits to Brazil and Uruguay, ended up getting curtailed by weather or logistics. And even here in Cartagena, this colonial gemstone on the Caribbean, the beaches aren't quite what we were expecting. The rooftop pool atop Hotel Cartagena de las Indias helps tide us over in the dense urban heat of midday. Maybe it's the wanderlust, but sooner rather than later the impulse is to flee. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our final escape is the Islas de Rosario. Somehow, our good luck restored, we're the only ones on the transit boat captained by Gustavo Gonzalez, tearing across the water at full throttle to the Island of Baru. Jas and Iris shriek with delight. It's a busy port, the busiest in Columbia it seems, and colourful. The massive waterside cranes negotiate stacks of containers like lego, a reminder of the world of commerce that, abstracted into numbers on a screen, awaits me on return to my desk. But before long, we're banking at speed around islands of mangroves, watching pelicans diving for their dinners. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">45mins at 60knots is quite a long way, and it certainly feels a long way from Cartagena's fortifications and luxury condo highrises. Pina Colada and mint lemonade on arrival, then the obligatory grilled fish, but so delicious, with the coconut rice and grilled plantains a great local touch. Meanwhile, ever since we stopped by El Boliche in Getsemani, Cartagena, I've really been cultivating a taste for ceviche, lemon&lime-juice-marinated fish.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After lunch we skip across the bay to the local "public beach". It makes me chuckle, we're a long way from the beach badges that gave us access as kids to the sandy dunes of Long Beach Island, NJ. This is maybe close to what you'd find in Jamaica, Creole sounds, lobster claws and limes in the sand. If in Cartagena you might catch the occasional glimpse of the old world - hints of Lisbon, Siracusa - here we are in the deep Caribbean.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Later, back on the boat pier, Jas and Iris inspect the crabs and starfish under the pier, collecting clams and mussels for their taxonomy. Our list of animals spied on this trip continues to grow, with an illustrated compendium to follow soon. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As the sun sets, the wind really picks up. We catch the first star of the evening. Then the second. High above the lilac, orange, baby blue and deep purple of the horizon.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This moment is so reminiscent to me of Grenada, our first "honeymoon" with Flo, well before we got married, mixing amateur mojitos on New Year's, and declarations of intent for family and future. And here we are, ten years later (or is it eleven?), on the shores of the Caribbean again, with the two kids we wished for ourselves, the Girls playing little gauchos on the wicker rocking horse, improvising costumes with Papa's shirts and bathrobe belts.</span><br />
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We've been tremendously lucky this entire trip. With the weather, the logistics, our health and our safety. And I can't help myself thinking that my greatest good fortune was to marry a girl with a sense of adventure, and to find ourselves with these joyful two as fellow travellers in life.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-75630340299411015562012-03-07T16:53:00.001-08:002012-03-07T16:53:11.377-08:00Introducing... Rolando Flores<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><i>The Cuervo Gold, the fine Colombian, make tonight a wonderful thing</i> - "Hey Nineteen", Steely Dan</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">It's here in Columbia that my alter-ego, Rolando Flores, really comes alive.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Flo and I take turns with the hotel and car bookings. We're in the South, so perhaps no surprise that it's routinely assumed that it's my name on the reservation forms. "Senor Flores, will you be dining with us this evening?"</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">What's more, by now my beard has acquired its own authority. Two months of sun has made the Baltic palour a bit less conspicuous. Puffing on a Churchill with sunglasses and a Panama, I could be a writer, a reformed drug baron, a renegade Jesuit... Ah, the heat and this rum must be going to my head.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-21944844999293154612012-03-06T09:16:00.000-08:002012-03-06T09:16:24.296-08:00Cartagena, Columbia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Road weary, our tempo slows when we first arrive in Colombia. Practically every day for two weeks we have either been on the move or changing abode, sometimes both. And we've been on the road for two months now. It finally takes its toll, and combined with the stultifying midday heat, creates a small mutiny, that neither gelato nor chilled wine can easily allay. Chief mutineer is Papa. Maybe because I feel the trip winding down, or because I feel the approach of the Anglo-Saxon world, the Northern Hemisphere, the work Protestant Work Ethic, bright lights, big city.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's been two months that I haven't picked up a newspaper or watched TV. Come to think of it, I haven't worn a watch. I couldn't tell you what's happening in the world outside the immediate circumference of our five senses. On most days, I couldn't tell you what day of the week it is.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But there's a lot for the senses here in Cartagena, and the funk doesn't last long. An early morning run on the ramparts of this fort town, reminiscent of Essaouira and Malta in places, helps to re-establish a certain equilibrium after so many days of travelling and eating on the go. Resolutions are made, to be re-affirmed Stateside with a daily workout regimen. It's been an active trip, but the distances make for lengthy spells buckled into aircraft and auto seats. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">More delicious meals at 818, Cebicheria El Boliche and a hasty but delicious bite at Patisserie Mila (churros y chocolate!) all help to keep this show on the road, to overcome the lassitude of the heat and the small but cumulative disappointments of logistical details gone awry - a favourite urban pool closed for a wedding, a hotel that's not the least bit childproof (watch out for the open well!), vastly overpriced private beaches.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But let's face it, this splendid, colourful town may be Caribbean capital of gaiety and highbrow hedonism. Although we meet few Europeans or Americans, this town's in high demand. Cartagena's Internationa Film Festival, for example, kicks off the day after tomorrow, which doesn't help our habit of organizing things on the fly.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But soon our luck turns, and once again it's enchantment in motion: the fruit vendors on the street - tropical colours to eat, fried parcels of intense flavor doused with hot-sauce, the competing reggae beats. It's all about the pleasure of the senses.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We're still in Roman Catholic territory, but the churches lighten up, even compared to the feel-good colours of Lima, looking like the ginger, maracuja and flor de Jamaica sorbet served in Gelateria Paradiso. Easily the finest we've had on this trip. In fact, the finest since we were last in Italy. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's the Caribbean, and about as far from the silence and austere vistas of the Southern cone as it is possible to be. We're in Creole country, a fixed up and functional version of my imaginary Havana (which until recently my passport has prevented me from visiting). From Marcus who meets us at the airport to Ebifanio and Rosiris at Estancia de la Mantella, people you meet in the street, this town gives you a friendly smile. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-55532447660078870962012-03-05T10:14:00.002-08:002012-03-05T20:55:49.907-08:00Museo Larco: Golden Years<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If the countryside is good for lessons in biology and geology, big cities have provided us with some excellent history lessons. Lima's <a href="http://www.museolarco.org/iindex.html">Museo Larco</a> makes for a particularly good school day.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm not really one for shards of ancient pottery. However, the layout in Museo Larco, all in Spanish, English and French, really makes even the most mundane fragments of everday life in ancient and pre-modern South America come alive. As for the jewelry and ritual attire of high priests and kings, these can only impress and amaze even the most jaded observer. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We learn about the ritual aspects of warfare, the system of measurement and units of commerce, ceremonies of sacrifice and also have spelled out for us the process of cultural fusion between Catholicism and Paganism, Inca and European traditions, that we've observed time and again on this trip. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Syncre</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">tism, "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 1px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 1px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 18px;">The amalgamation or attempted amalgamation of different religions, cultures, or schools of thought", is perhaps most vividly illustrated in a fabulous family tree, that shows the Conquistadores as direct descendants of their Inca predecessors. I'm reminded of the Soviets' appropriation of Orthodox iconography in their early propaganda. Century after century of self-legimization by usurpers, the world over. </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's amazing how the colors of feather banners and head-dresses, woven approximately one thousand years ago, still retain their intense colors. I'm reminded for a moment of the collection at Benoit's place in Brussels, where Brazilian feather hats and head-dresses made for startling decoration at the dance party Pierre and Iris invited us to. Almost as bright as the dayglo patent leather puffa jacket worn by Icaro, who mixed some wicked mojitos to keep us on our feet on the dancefloor. I'm digressing... </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With headgear like this, of course the subjects of the kingdom would have thought these high priests and kings were demi-gods. Dazzled by the gold and this close encounter with indigenous peoples, we stroll into the magnificent garden, sidestepping the erotic pottery galleries (enough school for one day...), and take tea in the shade of an amazing hyacinth canopy before we head back to hotel to pack. A fitting final stop to our time in colorful Peru (as captured <a href="http://www.pirouetteblog.com/mood-of-the-day/the-colours-of-peru/">here by Flo on Pirouette</a>). </span><br />
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<br />Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-90364354396872909252012-03-03T12:38:00.000-08:002012-03-03T12:38:00.784-08:00Lima: Surf City<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHghEroezYgP06EZece-WLHBgeZAw5L6FkfjDmo6fQ8Rx9cfh8fDJm71afhMtvzeRuh7ZdI57_tGfVuedG8jbTCwNxe3B6_golveSDmEBLLu7yYj-2ykI1mX5AzKZ3eGVixUIYzoEYWg7U/s1600/6173658017_17987fb2d9_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHghEroezYgP06EZece-WLHBgeZAw5L6FkfjDmo6fQ8Rx9cfh8fDJm71afhMtvzeRuh7ZdI57_tGfVuedG8jbTCwNxe3B6_golveSDmEBLLu7yYj-2ykI1mX5AzKZ3eGVixUIYzoEYWg7U/s400/6173658017_17987fb2d9_z.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Business district, Lima</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Look closely: surfers watch the sun setting over the rollers</span></td></tr>
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<br />Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-15678559077090621872012-03-03T03:40:00.000-08:002012-03-05T07:43:15.274-08:00Dining, Driving & Decompressing in Lima<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZVZrHElU2dZeOAHTthIwfH2Ir48nws558AItQmirDTb80hUrzhXPxvyZ3dLLLUoPQgwZWXCyNrBDgUWqlBFwlHwTjTxgxWAE8OSF8siSn59XnILKdNXTX6SbbeMDpoVw1Q4F-FIZG6QoQ/s1600/P1030779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZVZrHElU2dZeOAHTthIwfH2Ir48nws558AItQmirDTb80hUrzhXPxvyZ3dLLLUoPQgwZWXCyNrBDgUWqlBFwlHwTjTxgxWAE8OSF8siSn59XnILKdNXTX6SbbeMDpoVw1Q4F-FIZG6QoQ/s200/P1030779.jpg" width="133" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwcX3SU9fIhp2U1ib3z0mzzAdBD6DPHWwB7xEVCoO2KWZO-p1V8Yf1GdSL3sqLwsOo93pfoKznForDmSHiVuiTmT2DEevacIR5xbsGMFWcLhXor4RIZfexfp7JhCZnJmnOjdmlY5fm7epw/s1600/P1030850.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Peru is enjoying it's moment in the sun. Or Lima is, anyway. That's easy to see in the wealthy neighbourhoods of Miraflores, San Isidro or Barranco. One part Miami, one part LA, two parts Pisco Sour.... There's an air of prosperity that makes the transition from the poverty of the hills that much more abrupt. Sunny, easy-going place. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtBgjFdMh5NEuhkE-gYlm4Oul9uKi8OSfKgnlR4gRIycVgZqhvlevMzLuM2ETzXdPMIZFuBtSZR3bL9WA__CqFYJFPIfxnOotAV9OMB42kiDxIP-GTgWW131QrWGFnS1okzpp20Nxlvr-W/s1600/P1040738.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtBgjFdMh5NEuhkE-gYlm4Oul9uKi8OSfKgnlR4gRIycVgZqhvlevMzLuM2ETzXdPMIZFuBtSZR3bL9WA__CqFYJFPIfxnOotAV9OMB42kiDxIP-GTgWW131QrWGFnS1okzpp20Nxlvr-W/s320/P1040738.JPG" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lima, like BsAs, gives us the chance to pay a visit to the laundromat, the post office, the bank. And to meet expat locals. We spend time talking about the politics of fish reproduction in the Amazon basin with Fabrice, marine biologist, and his wife Carine while Jas and Iris throw a fashion show with their daughters Oxana and Talia, with an improvised poolside catwalk. The parents take their turn dancing rock & roll. A recurring worry is that Fabrice is away on a field trip on the Amazon when a big one, or perhaps THE big one, hits Lima. We get a lesson in earthquake response tactics. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On another occasion we're mesmerized by the beautiful house that Christian and Marta have built for their family, in the shade of the very olive trees where only a couple days ago we had a modelling clay contest. It has to be one of the prime corners of real estate in Lima. But then real estate is Christian's stock in trade as an architect, and he battled for years to secure it. Marta left the world of London finance to return with her family to her native Peru, where she works in private equity. The country is alive with opportunity, but all the usual political disclaimers apply. Their children Max and Clio are excellent hosts to the Girls while the parents hit the restaurant scene. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOzBWG7E2tcK32Q6DFXG3u0SUm_May9EkVQweJukhut32axI2kgNHYoENZj_16j2rgKW0Nvl5QyxjoFpmdAp9a_krDkZNQEvRTJ9n5aZx_7eQaOtS2PSzTWO-rFZYC-nRjUmbzdFtTaCDc/s1600/P1040175.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOzBWG7E2tcK32Q6DFXG3u0SUm_May9EkVQweJukhut32axI2kgNHYoENZj_16j2rgKW0Nvl5QyxjoFpmdAp9a_krDkZNQEvRTJ9n5aZx_7eQaOtS2PSzTWO-rFZYC-nRjUmbzdFtTaCDc/s320/P1040175.JPG" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">People speak about how much the Seguridad Ciudadana has improved. And so it should, with all the cops and private security types about. Gated communities and barbed wire suggest a degree of urban unease, but it all feels less paranoid than Buenos Aires sometimes did. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHn1lCRp9cF-i8nNt1rAkH4nGMgow-wL1_XiBo93F88nQb0vGxFJKVW2ivplPWvxKLd0UYC_B9VxwWcC16V2lB7tZLhXdBs6JXvFhWhIkd_B7y2GrMUWwCdKfn6-1m6OILKScIkrlw26p/s1600/P1040169.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkHn1lCRp9cF-i8nNt1rAkH4nGMgow-wL1_XiBo93F88nQb0vGxFJKVW2ivplPWvxKLd0UYC_B9VxwWcC16V2lB7tZLhXdBs6JXvFhWhIkd_B7y2GrMUWwCdKfn6-1m6OILKScIkrlw26p/s200/P1040169.jpg" width="132" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thanks one and all for the warm hospitality and the travel tips! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> We register a friendly vibe, like something you might glimpse in <a href="http://www.mariotestino.com/page/127">Mario Testino's</a> photographic homage. The locals speak to us of the traffic jams and the provincialism behind the cosmopolitan veneer. But we're here just long enough to skate over it's golden surface. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And to take in a few exceptionally good meals. I recover my appetite just in time to take advantage, finally, of this Capital of Cuisine. And I have my own walking, talking, little black book. Flo has an amazing compendium of eats, sleeps and drinks that she's built up over the years, supplemented regularly by friends we meet along the way. The paella at <a href="http://www.lagloriarestaurant.com/">La Gloria</a> and the crisp starched shirts of the waiters remind me of Da Giaccomo in Milan. At <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/travel/postcard-from-tom-review-of-central-restaurante-in-lima-peru/2012/01/16/gIQAzICgDQ_story.html">Central</a>, the pistachio crust makes the paiche, an Amazonian bass, taste like rich, flaking cake. We love the open-kitchen buzz at <a href="http://www.dwell.com/articles/Lima-El-Mercado-Restaurant.html">El Mercado</a>, the Chicha Morena at <a href="http://www.pescadoscapitales.com/">Pescados Capitales</a>.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After the dark and deranged church imagery of Cuzco, the religious architecture here is all sweetness and light, and a higher register of kitsch than what we'd seen in, for example, Salta. Inevitably, there's a hint of the macabre, the skull relics of Lima's patron saints for example. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lima's patron saints, and their skulls...</span></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">There have been roadside shrines and saints watching over us throughout our trip. Here in Lima they really come alive. I'm reminded of "Saint Behind the Glass", a song by Los Lobos, a favourite band of mine in the 80's. And coincidentally, a line from "One Hundred Years of Solitude" leaps off the page: "They used them to build an altar of life-sized saints in the children's bedroom, saints with glass eyes that gave them a disquietingly lifelike look, whose artistically embroidered robes were richer and finer than any worn by the inhabitants of Macondo". </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There's something about the many martyred saints that must have lent itself so well, I imagine, to adoption by indigenous people, perhaps accustomed to arcane and cruel blood rites. At one point, perhaps the iconography, and the pantheon of Catholic saints and Inca demi-gods became almost interchangeable. Anyway, check out the psychedelia of these church interiors! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-40995918896304478522012-03-02T11:15:00.000-08:002012-03-03T02:54:28.799-08:00Machu Picchu: Stairway to Heaven<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ9sWqo_s983BvJmSILVePSd9r1xk30hLxfB7EiMs24Eq05mq4Pn8ohCRYYtu_vZyygOx0EBSS7jKr3EIcChwb0A20JUFMV1lBDE4GM6KWR_pY5GbGlK7D4ElGHU3EDS6DnAaWC30aFDZt/s1600/P1040511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ9sWqo_s983BvJmSILVePSd9r1xk30hLxfB7EiMs24Eq05mq4Pn8ohCRYYtu_vZyygOx0EBSS7jKr3EIcChwb0A20JUFMV1lBDE4GM6KWR_pY5GbGlK7D4ElGHU3EDS6DnAaWC30aFDZt/s320/P1040511.JPG" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">"Stairway to Heaven" is playing on the bus radio as we board the final leg of our approach to the mythical city. Fitting for the steep jungle slopes either side of the raging torrent of a river, wild on account of the rains. And for these fantastic mountains, rising straight up from the valley floor. Normally, one could take the train direct from Cuzco, alt 3300, to Aguas Calientes, the town at the foot of Machu Picchu. But in rainy season we have to improvise a combination of car, train and bus, making this another time-consuming traverse. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Aguas Calientes, another town that exists solely as tourist stopover, has an incredible setting and considerable charms to contrast with derelict Cuzco. The PeruRail Express must be one of the more scenic train routes still running. Considering the seething tourist mass that the local infrastructure and logistics have to deal with, it's amazing that the torrent doesn't burst its banks. It's all orderly, and well run, so that even these Swiss travellers are impressed. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfF4q7zNv5H1mfzWuZpWRlJrZtuD-4bo9L0MWdtWasUXxpLvFmIldMXNjpGXYcfYLs4y6DwMztV4DQD7LHHZfVHuC5zsNQRFLOlu4shA72x2Y_kAVH0mMJUYjMQOYxD0kQUf-ggJD458YH/s1600/P1040518.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfF4q7zNv5H1mfzWuZpWRlJrZtuD-4bo9L0MWdtWasUXxpLvFmIldMXNjpGXYcfYLs4y6DwMztV4DQD7LHHZfVHuC5zsNQRFLOlu4shA72x2Y_kAVH0mMJUYjMQOYxD0kQUf-ggJD458YH/s200/P1040518.JPG" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">And the university in the sky retains its poise. In spite of the 2500 or so people that visit every day, the place manages to keep a sense of majesty and mystery about it. Of course it would be magnificent to see it alone, but crawling with people creates the impression of a lively city, and gives a real sense of the grandiose scale looking from one end of the site to the other. We also have occasion to laugh at the fieldworker scarves of the Russian tourist troupe, the Spanish girls chased by hungry lamas, taking shelter behind a stone wall. Iris, unafraid, feeds the lamas her banana.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Our guide Miguel carries the rainbow flag of the Andes. And if his explanations sometimes veer toward the mystical, it's a fascinating lesson for all of us to spend five hours in his company. School away from home has rarely been more vivid. Although these are impressions perhaps enhanced by the fortified coca leaves he gives us to sample. There's no argument - the place is an architectural and engineering marvel. And the setting is breathtaking. As Mom remembers it, "you feel like you are at the top of the world", surrounded by the impossibly steep tropical rainforest cliffs, feeling truly close to the spirits of the sky, close to heaven. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">And for the duration of our tour, the sky is clear. We shed the alpaca socks and jumpers acquired in Cuzco, anticipating cold and rain. It only starts raining as we begin our descent and the ponchos have to come out. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Well-tended, carefully maintained and vigilantly guarded, the place really is astounding. How amazing it must be to arrive on site by foot, following the Inca Trail. I can easily envisage a future trip to Vilcabamba, reachable only by jungle trail, where another city of similar scope lies in ruins. Here's what Lonely Planet has to say about it... </span><i style="font-family: Arial;">The real 'lost city of the Incas', Vilcabamba - also known as Espiritu Pampa - is what Hiram Bingham [NB: the original Indiana Jones] was looking for when he stumbled on Machu Picchu. The beleaguered Manco Inca and his followers fled to this jungle retreat after being defeated by the Spaniards at Ollantaytambo in 1536. The long, low-altitude trek, which takes four to nine days, is very rugged, with many steep ascents and descents....</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">But that will have to be another time. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Choo-Choo Picchu</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">It's a long and complicated way back to Lima. Our return trip by train is hysterical. Served wine and cheese and edible flowers in artful wooden boxes by the train staff, we're then amazed to see them pacing the aisle to the sudden onslaught of Latino rave music, modelling the latest alpaca fashions ("we take Visa, Mastercard, American Express..."), or dressed as carnival demons. The whole thing strikes me as completely ludicrous. Between the sun and the altitude, I can't quite keep my composure and find myself in a fit of laughter for the rest of the ride. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Our disjointed trip takes us through the quietly charming Ollantaytambo. With its array of Inca fortifications encircling the sleepy town, this seems a far preferable place to bivouac on the way to Machu Picchu than the demented Cuzco.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;">Machu Poncho</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj65W_EPYzDhe0evBeT-czeIR6Gd18fgc0K0pdq9xQuKjoEH3QaKw02Odb1gCz_vWlzI1ECf-RskFMPL6NCTy1BOxm6YWYYi-DSIJyVO-4pCcqvXCxFln4GP4s2JFlQYg3Itoz5uql0w9Nh/s1600/P1040721.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj65W_EPYzDhe0evBeT-czeIR6Gd18fgc0K0pdq9xQuKjoEH3QaKw02Odb1gCz_vWlzI1ECf-RskFMPL6NCTy1BOxm6YWYYi-DSIJyVO-4pCcqvXCxFln4GP4s2JFlQYg3Itoz5uql0w9Nh/s320/P1040721.JPG" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">One final, brief night in suffocating Cuzco, and we're up before dawn, yet again, to head back to the coast.<br /><br />These days in the Sacred Valley will have been the most expensive of our trip, on just about any measure - by the minute, the vertical or horizontal km. Somewhere in the manic transit back in Cuzco, my iPhone is stolen. Machu Picchu has been a revelation, and a worthy detination. But the Incas extract their sacrifice, and we finally depart Cuzco, exhausted and skint.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"></span><br />
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<br />Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-20495253137749752522012-02-29T18:39:00.000-08:002012-02-29T18:39:16.524-08:00"If you want to get ahead in life, get yourself a hat".<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4sXNeIjSSEXG54jT19s-s84vTyzI5PWSbTvg1HREn0F0fdm6RkW3bO1niEGXP_7ZfxavmEsrVY9hliKxKK9LiK5EYWAcC4xsNG1tRJYQqOzXmTG1zI8HwpWvcK_7gKm1Saad2SDL9DbOm/s1600/1106761.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4sXNeIjSSEXG54jT19s-s84vTyzI5PWSbTvg1HREn0F0fdm6RkW3bO1niEGXP_7ZfxavmEsrVY9hliKxKK9LiK5EYWAcC4xsNG1tRJYQqOzXmTG1zI8HwpWvcK_7gKm1Saad2SDL9DbOm/s320/1106761.jpg" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Cuzco was underwhelming, and its outskirts are dispiriting. And yet, the women walk proud in their dayglo colours and hats! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">I did some digging about the origins of this Peruvian tradition in headgear, and what I found was mostly vague. It seems every married woman has one. Trilbys and Bowler hats and Panamas, as well as the occasional Peruvian fantasia. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">A surplus of imported colonists' hats that first started an accidental fashion? An appropriation and subversion of the gringos' sign of authority? I'm not sure that anyone knows for sure. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">But I love the self-reliance and strength that these hats and braids braids project in the women that wear them. For it's only the women. And they're not just tourist-trap attire, or the carnival gaiety we saw in Lima, which was just for show. This is the look, day to day. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">In the streets and in the marketplaces, it's still mud and dirt among the green peaks of the Andes, but still what a distinctive splash of colour in the gloom.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">As we depart Cuzco (the road is downhill to Machu Picchu), I'm glad to be in the countryside. The vistas here cannot have not changed much since the photographs below were taken in the 40's and 50s, a random find on the web. Another find was the splendid photos of <a href="http://martinchambi.org/gindex.html">Martin Chambi</a> from the 20's and 30's.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"> A world away from Lima, in time and tradition. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-27849928343891167432012-02-27T19:20:00.000-08:002012-02-27T19:20:13.685-08:00Cuzco: Altitude Sickness<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWEFLWWqvqCxlCpokybP5zVosiLODsSWzOh5Q28C6o5zGVOlPKZMjQ22lTaFS_k4E8eJZsAhQKnLTnaQ6XO8Pm1E_2zTGgaZySIzRmZ7-5-xjvKdyKxFmL-_s7ZE_RA4IfLvUtgc87X9QE/s1600/IMG-20120213-00293.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWEFLWWqvqCxlCpokybP5zVosiLODsSWzOh5Q28C6o5zGVOlPKZMjQ22lTaFS_k4E8eJZsAhQKnLTnaQ6XO8Pm1E_2zTGgaZySIzRmZ7-5-xjvKdyKxFmL-_s7ZE_RA4IfLvUtgc87X9QE/s200/IMG-20120213-00293.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZUQq8NXfYBC6kFN-kiHPOqlSLCTW64Ev2ig7A1kI3qLnn0z8EhIANcWz1f8w8YVGsGViZCfJ3tAwUZ8jigr8GrvO_V4Ugc4nMtsmWC5TnZo6KVmcHdX6R6e5IPyjIeAmQB72M-NenG32I/s1600/IMG_2772.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZUQq8NXfYBC6kFN-kiHPOqlSLCTW64Ev2ig7A1kI3qLnn0z8EhIANcWz1f8w8YVGsGViZCfJ3tAwUZ8jigr8GrvO_V4Ugc4nMtsmWC5TnZo6KVmcHdX6R6e5IPyjIeAmQB72M-NenG32I/s320/IMG_2772.jpg" width="239" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">For the 24hrs that we are in Cuzco, I can't shake the impression that we're inhabiting a Heironymous Bosch painting. We're here </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">along with the throng of visitors in transit to Machu Pichu, which practically speaking is reachable only by train or trail from this point of departure. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Cuzco is a pretty sorry town. It has the decrepit look of a forlorn Soviet provincial capital, large and sprawling but unloved. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2dY1hk8nCNoiNERWYRI_NrsWYUkxgdvmMNVhToqZS66js1zVKO4RRFNj4bWv3lgP3Z2zN9EZFoEk57wyyFbTh6_gk-4Y8EoCFPsFzOvaMdJ45Vi3bNNmnfOamtm5BtPW3vxBZ-EpkhEjI/s1600/86FAD446-C7A9-442E-9347-0C2D06F8060C_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2dY1hk8nCNoiNERWYRI_NrsWYUkxgdvmMNVhToqZS66js1zVKO4RRFNj4bWv3lgP3Z2zN9EZFoEk57wyyFbTh6_gk-4Y8EoCFPsFzOvaMdJ45Vi3bNNmnfOamtm5BtPW3vxBZ-EpkhEjI/s200/86FAD446-C7A9-442E-9347-0C2D06F8060C_o.jpg" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">The skies are threatening as we land. Maybe it's the altitude, or after-effects of gastric imbalance, but the place seems to me like a demented carnival. The shops we enter in </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">search of snacks and socks to fend of the promised cold and rain atop Machu Pichu tomorrow all smell to me of formaldehyde or mothballs.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJmPHBn-0B9rYva5Pu68T7JTtycOT-Jhj6dxZ_kYfnFMp3PnIataSxMyA7vtntNVj094yyWUTlmTpOfV30RAuVe1V_dLKQxw3PB6rrg3D3Sc4N_4kVaYSF1NV5zHGw7_-BMzkpLTyr-IgL/s1600/IMG_5094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJmPHBn-0B9rYva5Pu68T7JTtycOT-Jhj6dxZ_kYfnFMp3PnIataSxMyA7vtntNVj094yyWUTlmTpOfV30RAuVe1V_dLKQxw3PB6rrg3D3Sc4N_4kVaYSF1NV5zHGw7_-BMzkpLTyr-IgL/s200/IMG_5094.JPG" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">We have a good meal at Cicciolina (!), but I can't shake the sensation that my lamb tastes like the leather binding of a Bible from the Middle Ages, all frankinsence and myhrr. Exhausted and short of breath at 3300m, we go back to a hotel room on our first night that smells like a latrine. </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Simon & Garfunkel killed that folksong about the Condor long ago, but it's exhumed and piped interminably through the night in the street below, in the restaurant above. The headache that comes with the altitude is skull-crushing. One can't sleep for the dreams of smothering and strangulation.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Fittingly, here the religious iconography is one of gilded splendour and gruesome suffering. Christ looks like a goul, and but for the relief of modern-day cherubs depicted in Iglesia San Domingo, this is a world of pain, of the sudden and arbitrary rertribution of catastrophic earthquakes and fires ("Sito Seguro en Caso de Sismo" read the signs in some of the less dog-eared buildings).</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Maybe we got Cuzco, "the Magnificent Capital of the Sacred Valley" on a bad day. Or maybe it's just me having a bad day. It's raining, cold, the streets are dirt and mud, the air is acrid with exhaust fumes of the car-clogged center. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">After progressive Lima, I was expecting something a bit more contemporary and wholesome for the antechamber to this Wonder of the World. Has none of the tourist wealth rubbed off, left traces of improvement? Granted, there are rich churches and impressive ruins to visit. But they feel obscured by the tacky tourist stuff. There's the uneasy atmosphere of mutual suspicion between tourists and touts, all the worst tat and rent-seeking of a tourist town, and so little of the charm (San Pedro de Atacama, I was too harsh with you!) </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The shabby, dirt poor settlements that lead out of town are further reminder of the grinding poverty in this part of the country, dogs competing for their dinner in the dumpsters outside the makeshift marketplace. But the road leads us closer to Machu Picchu... Another overnight stop along the way in Urubamba, and we'll be there the following day. The forecast is for dark skies and cold wind. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-47499596963844511592012-02-26T16:42:00.000-08:002012-02-26T16:42:00.612-08:00Magic & Reality: the Road to Machu Picchu<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHB4F6zcPsHhHOlIU6w0-rc_Sgq7W9-19qz5mj0cHmLutxq5EaxNYP9WqTMEHWscA8Sigo69sUw5kUZvBcZgfBi7ojkduLYwMpiIh132XSkvIJI1j_6K0HUaAGkOPbC26h1N2GpTOTn53n/s1600/IMG_2844.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHB4F6zcPsHhHOlIU6w0-rc_Sgq7W9-19qz5mj0cHmLutxq5EaxNYP9WqTMEHWscA8Sigo69sUw5kUZvBcZgfBi7ojkduLYwMpiIh132XSkvIJI1j_6K0HUaAGkOPbC26h1N2GpTOTn53n/s320/IMG_2844.jpg" width="239" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Until we hit the departure gates of Lima airport, Santiago was probably the most modern of the South American airports we'd visited, but also the most chaotic. Lima's by contrast was an oasis of calm on the day we left for Cuzco. I was lucky to find ind "One Hundred Years of Solitude" in the bookstore, and we sourced some excellent chocolate covered coffee beans and cashews for the trip. Before departing, I took no books but loaded up my Kindle, intent on travelling light over two months. It's been handy for digital versions of bulky Lonely Planet guides, a voyage worth of bed-time stories and travel tales. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">However, I also left plenty of space for the Latin American novels I planned to download, hopping from one WiFi spot to another, as soon as Joseph Conrad's "Nostromo" was behind me. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">It's been a disappointment to learn that practically none of the South American greats are available electronically, save for original language versions of certain titles. Forget about anything vagely obscure. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">So I was thrilled to find "The Insufferable Gaucho" in the library of Tierra Patagonia, a collection of stories and articles by Chilean Roberto Bolano. And on this occasion Gabriel Garcia Marquez' masterwork, a fine prelude to our visit his native Colombia. Like Conrad's Sulaco, Marquez' Macondo is an entirely fictional place. The first few pages are evidence enough of Marquez' magic realism, to contrast the very historical realism that Conrad aims at in his book.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">But enough of fiction, back to reality... The transition from Lima's coastal plain to the Andean heights is rapid. The approach to Cuzco is remarkably green, but rough and rugged and vertical. Here rivers have carved ravines, and not the flood pains that became a familiar sight (duly flooded) around Cachi, in the Valle de los Calchaquies. No wonder the native Quechua managed to hide the existence of Machu Pichu from Spanish Conquistadores, and for it to remain "forgotten" into the 20th century. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Already at school I'd identified more with Indians than Cowboys in the inevitable schoolyard games (do kids in the States still play at that? Or is it all re-enactments Halo and GTA these days?). What with their dazzling head-dresses, their warpaint, hunting prowess and decorated horses. Why would anyone want to dress in the drab costume of cowboys, whatever the firepower of their Colt 45's? But my first notion of injustice came with the stark illustrations in a childhood issue of National Geographic that chronicled the demise of the Incan empire. The pictures are still vivid in my mind. Pizzaro and his small band of well-armed men banishing Atuahalpa and his Inca warriors to slavery and stealing their gold. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">It's an episode related on several dimensions by Jared Diamond in his excellent "Guns, Germs, and Steel". Just the way of the world, one might say. But somehow remarkable that indigenous people and mestizos alike should have reconciled themselves to an historic calamity of such proportions. The Inca trail, the extent of the political and economic organization, of a staggering scope and advancement... That said, can Machu Pichu possibly live up to all the hype of being one of the Seven Wonders of the World?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"> </span><br />
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<br /></div>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-90370912484956520862012-02-26T11:10:00.001-08:002012-02-26T11:10:20.597-08:00Laid Low in Lovely Lima<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ironic, almost tragic, that my plumbing should fail the evening we arrive in Lima, capital to South America's culinary awakening. No awakening for me, however. I, by contrast, sleep for 36hrs almost straight, getting up a couple times for a banana or a rice cake. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I'm finally back on my feet, we hit a few of the sites, watch the changing of the guard, an Andean carnival procession, take the shade of ancient olive trees. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In my state, early impressions of this town are muted, but Flo is smitten. More on return to Lima from Cuzco. Next stop Machu Picchu. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7832458794296499044.post-88845011707485177072012-02-26T07:35:00.001-08:002012-02-26T07:35:32.578-08:00Chingado, Hechizado<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">"Argentina's like a novel, he said, a lie, or make-believe at best. Buenos Aires is full of crooks and loudmouths, a hellish place, with nothing to recommend it except the women, and some of the writers, but only a few. Ah, but the pampas - the pampas are eternal." </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">- <i>The Insufferable Gaucho</i>, Roberto Bolano </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">Our time in the Southern Cone of South America draws to a close. It's been a rich and varied experience in Argentina and Chile, but as we travel North we're expecting a change in temperature, and a change in tempo. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">From Salta we fly via Santa Cruz in Bolivia to Lima, Peru. Ever closer to the Equator, back into the heat, the chaos and colors of more tropical latitudes, which we haven't tasted since Rio. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span>Romas Viesulashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09722731585848768756noreply@blogger.com0