If you like big "schwimmering" lakes, snow capped mountains, snow related sports, hiking, biking, good chocolate, locally brewed beer... (I do)... then Bariloche is a pretty mint place to visit.
What on earth am I doing playing bingo on this bus?
Friday, 30 July 2010
Thursday, 22 July 2010
(Un)Cool in BA
Did I just spend an entire week eating pastries, shopping for a sweater and changing hostels?Jaded, I awoke from an "overnighter" (A bus...not "caining it") to find the people on the other side of the window leaving vapour trails, decked out in "winter clobber". Yesterday was spent in vest...
... What had happened since last night? (The cheap champagne and the 80s ballads that this particular tour bus offered up as entertainment)
Funny ol`place, Buenos Aires is.... looks bit like a european city, they (...the airens) speak their Spanish with bit of Italian twang... eat pizza and pasta n shit.
It didn`t take long to establish my (micro) fleece and rain jacket simply wouldn`t "cut the mustard"....
Besides...what with it being a cosmopolitan city n all, and the fact that I decided to stay in the "uberkooliche" district of Perlermo... I decided my (supposedly) "weatherproof" garments were massively uncool...
...Had I lost my identity over my fabrics "technical abilities"?
I even found myself telling fellow backpackers (in our very unheated hostels) "this isn`t how I normally dress" (a massively uncool statement in itself).
... I needed to feel cool again...
(...That...and....NOT FUCKING FREEZING...)
I got straight to work...
It turns out the boutiques of Parlermo didn`t fit within my modest backpackers budget.
And the local high street offerings wearn`t exactly my idea of cool.
(In pity) Someone had told me a great Sunday market... The kind that sells "threads" by up and coming designers...The kind that was within my financial means...
GREAT!
(...Although it was Tuesday)
So I spent the remainder of the week seeking ways in which to keep warm....
taking in BAs cultural offerings (....indoor offerings)
Coffee shops
Eating big fuck off steaks
...even signed up to the local gym.
I must admit I wore my Merino Wool socks for the entire week...(In fact I still am)
Sunday (finally) came....and in that true "up yours" fashion...it lashed it down with rain...
(...the kind of rain that isn`t suitable for market transactions)
Had I wasted an entire week in the pursuit of warmth?
Reflecting on my departure (in my newly bought Zara jumper/hat)... I might not have hit everything on the checklist, I had probably spent a small fortune "trying to keep warm"
(...enough to buy a "boutique" sweater)
...that despite these things.... I may not have wasted my time in this City....
Isn`t that what most people do in city's?
...run errands, visit coffee shops, eat in restaurants, occasionally visit a gallery...
Pictorials
Tuesday, 20 July 2010
I like it in the morning
Perfect for the Bus/drowning out the sound of dorm sex/parks etc...
Listen
http://www.coolinthepool.com/files/philmisoncoolinthepool2.m3u
(or trust me and) Download here
http://www.coolinthepool.com/files/Phil_Mison_Cool_in_the_Pool_mix2.mp3
Listen
http://www.coolinthepool.com/files/philmisoncoolinthepool2.m3u
(or trust me and) Download here
http://www.coolinthepool.com/files/Phil_Mison_Cool_in_the_Pool_mix2.mp3
Sunday, 18 July 2010
Iguazu Falls
So like everyone else who happened to "stumble" on the falls that day....I took a KaGillian photos
...here are 17 of them.
Photograms
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=193019&id=637432796&l=f1dff2461b
Wednesday, 14 July 2010
Feeling the fear
I don`t know if it was everything I had heard....
It might have been the knife fight which erupted in front of me...
The wandering crack fiends, itching, scratching, clucking...
But something...
(...something)
...about Salvador brought me (intermittent) pangs of fear.
(For once) my guide book was right, the heavily policed tourist areas (church`s....hundreds of them) somewhat encouraged a feeling of an "endangered species".
Turns out churches can get a bit boring so eventually I (had to) venture out of the "protected zone"...
I decided to visit a market (...I like markets me).... This one was a "a bit dirty", smelled like rotting meat, but a genuine market nonetheless...
Giving the intimidating nature of the place (it was a bit dark)... The fact that I was the only (very unprotected) tourist... I was admittedly... "touching cloth" a bit.
After brushing off a couple of "gringos" and (the more polite) "amigo"... I`m approached by a a slightly scruffy young man (he was as dirty as my feet.... but all over)
"Hello.... English?"
(Shit!.... He speaks English, I have to respond)...
"Sim" (Yes)
Turns out "Hello English" was the only English this man could speak...
He reverts back to his native tongue
"Cupaucu"
(... say what now?)
..."Cupaucu"
I respond in the only way I know how...
..."noun comprenday"
He repeats "Cupaucu" over an over again, adding more and more complex words to the equation.
I continue to walk...
(he walks with me)
I change direction...
(he follows)
His erratic behaviour is starting to make me nervous...
...THIS GUY IS GETTING IN MY GRILL!
(What the fuck is "Cupaucu" and why does this guy keep saying it to me?)
...Is he trying to rob me? (..."the book" says he might)
...Does Cupaucu mean "give me your shit"?
Eventually I (we) end up where we begin our encounter...
He points at something...
something...(rotting)
...Turns out hes trying to sell me fucking fruit!
(Photos
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=191447&id=637432796&l=b0e71251ac
(...All taken when I summoned the courage to remove camera from bag)
The Pelo ("The Protected Zone") as featured in Micheal Jacksons 1996 smash hit "They dont really care about us"
It might have been the knife fight which erupted in front of me...
The wandering crack fiends, itching, scratching, clucking...
But something...
(...something)
...about Salvador brought me (intermittent) pangs of fear.
(For once) my guide book was right, the heavily policed tourist areas (church`s....hundreds of them) somewhat encouraged a feeling of an "endangered species".
Turns out churches can get a bit boring so eventually I (had to) venture out of the "protected zone"...
I decided to visit a market (...I like markets me).... This one was a "a bit dirty", smelled like rotting meat, but a genuine market nonetheless...
Giving the intimidating nature of the place (it was a bit dark)... The fact that I was the only (very unprotected) tourist... I was admittedly... "touching cloth" a bit.
After brushing off a couple of "gringos" and (the more polite) "amigo"... I`m approached by a a slightly scruffy young man (he was as dirty as my feet.... but all over)
"Hello.... English?"
(Shit!.... He speaks English, I have to respond)...
"Sim" (Yes)
Turns out "Hello English" was the only English this man could speak...
He reverts back to his native tongue
"Cupaucu"
(... say what now?)
..."Cupaucu"
I respond in the only way I know how...
..."noun comprenday"
He repeats "Cupaucu" over an over again, adding more and more complex words to the equation.
I continue to walk...
(he walks with me)
I change direction...
(he follows)
His erratic behaviour is starting to make me nervous...
...THIS GUY IS GETTING IN MY GRILL!
(What the fuck is "Cupaucu" and why does this guy keep saying it to me?)
...Is he trying to rob me? (..."the book" says he might)
...Does Cupaucu mean "give me your shit"?
Eventually I (we) end up where we begin our encounter...
He points at something...
something...(rotting)
...Turns out hes trying to sell me fucking fruit!
(Photos
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=191447&id=637432796&l=b0e71251ac
(...All taken when I summoned the courage to remove camera from bag)
The Pelo ("The Protected Zone") as featured in Micheal Jacksons 1996 smash hit "They dont really care about us"
Sunday, 4 July 2010
Saturday, 3 July 2010
The Bland City
2nd July
No discern features, major attractions.
On the surface a functional business hub...almost, grey in appearance.
The general backpacker consensus says "don't bother".
I'm at Sao Paulo international airport (getting a domestic flight....I hope).
I've been here 3 nights with the "soul" purpose of arranging travel to Bahia (the book says the home of Afro Brazillian Culture).
Nothing significant to report.
Not many photos neither.
Walked around city.
Took Tube.
Went Park.
Museum.
Bar.
The hostel I stayed at was clean, quiet, respectful.... housed mainly by Brazillians on "temporary business".
Haven't spoke to anyone in "two way ingles" for a couple of days.
........
.......
...
I really like it here.
...Been the first place (probably partially due to the diverse skin tones of the Sao Paulians) that I felt I (almost) melded in....(Obviously my almost constant look of confusion is sometimes a bit of give away).
My encounters with the people have been helpful, friendly.
That..."like a tourist" feeling hasn't flared up much.
I'll probably stay here for a couple more days on my return.
Sao Paulo...An underrated travel destination.
(photos
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=189550&id=637432796&l=e3e88259a6
)
No discern features, major attractions.
On the surface a functional business hub...almost, grey in appearance.
The general backpacker consensus says "don't bother".
I'm at Sao Paulo international airport (getting a domestic flight....I hope).
I've been here 3 nights with the "soul" purpose of arranging travel to Bahia (the book says the home of Afro Brazillian Culture).
Nothing significant to report.
Not many photos neither.
Walked around city.
Took Tube.
Went Park.
Museum.
Bar.
The hostel I stayed at was clean, quiet, respectful.... housed mainly by Brazillians on "temporary business".
Haven't spoke to anyone in "two way ingles" for a couple of days.
........
.......
...
I really like it here.
...Been the first place (probably partially due to the diverse skin tones of the Sao Paulians) that I felt I (almost) melded in....(Obviously my almost constant look of confusion is sometimes a bit of give away).
My encounters with the people have been helpful, friendly.
That..."like a tourist" feeling hasn't flared up much.
I'll probably stay here for a couple more days on my return.
Sao Paulo...An underrated travel destination.
(photos
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=189550&id=637432796&l=e3e88259a6
)
lets have "a little holiday"
26th Junio
After running around Rio like a maniac, I was a bit knackered.
...I decided that I should go to the seaside and have "have a little holiday".
Got my "my first bus" (insert crayon caligraphy here) and found myself in the costal fishing village of Paraty (Pronounced Parra che).
Beaded here for 4 nights (2 of which, it lashed it down with rain). On the 3rd (the Sunny day) I went on the famed island hoping tour
...It was nice.
(here's me wearing a pair of very skimpy shorts)
Ate some (delicious) fresh fish
(the fish)
After exhasting the villages only rainy day option (the newly installed cultural center) and frequenting a particularly bad bar, I decided that Paraty had given me most of what it had to offer.
A short Bus/Ferry combo brought me to island of Ilha Grande, where, on the beach I was greeted by a particularly loud overweight maid of the hostel which I intended to stay at.
Throughout my stay at Aquario hostel I established that "shouty maid lady" might have some relation to the particularly laid back (lazy) owner.
...I was prepared to overlook the noise (from "shouty maid lady") and the unhelpful nature of the owner for the scenic view of the beach from my dorm.
I was glad I detoured "my little holiday"... the Grande, and (it turns out) its nice beaches were right up my street.
Of course simply laying around on the pretty beach (on my doorstep) was "too easy"...especially considering I had been told that marginally nicer beaches were few hours hike away.
Navigating my way through the steep forests for hours on end I found a new respect for the tradition of hiking (and coincidently after feeling particularly "challenged" one afternoon, a small girl (no older than 5)...taking it all in her stride).
That said...The "marginally" nicer beaches were, actually (despite the handful of other beach goers)...a small piece of your own paradise. (and the concept of, somehow.... "earning" your beach time, appealed to me).
After 2 days hiking solo (a lot which was spent "reflecting" on lifes questions), I yearned some sillyness, and I threw myself back into hostel life by signing up for Aquarios "famed" boat party.
...It was like Kos 2003 all over again and we all got a bit silly on the endless supply of caipirinha's (...which made the "famed" boat party so famous).
One of my fellow dormies (and "friend for the day") may or may not have an illigitimate child in 9 months time...
... I suppose he or I will never find out
(more photos
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=189538&id=637432796&l=7618388986
)
After running around Rio like a maniac, I was a bit knackered.
...I decided that I should go to the seaside and have "have a little holiday".
Got my "my first bus" (insert crayon caligraphy here) and found myself in the costal fishing village of Paraty (Pronounced Parra che).
Beaded here for 4 nights (2 of which, it lashed it down with rain). On the 3rd (the Sunny day) I went on the famed island hoping tour
...It was nice.
(here's me wearing a pair of very skimpy shorts)
Ate some (delicious) fresh fish
(the fish)
After exhasting the villages only rainy day option (the newly installed cultural center) and frequenting a particularly bad bar, I decided that Paraty had given me most of what it had to offer.
A short Bus/Ferry combo brought me to island of Ilha Grande, where, on the beach I was greeted by a particularly loud overweight maid of the hostel which I intended to stay at.
Throughout my stay at Aquario hostel I established that "shouty maid lady" might have some relation to the particularly laid back (lazy) owner.
...I was prepared to overlook the noise (from "shouty maid lady") and the unhelpful nature of the owner for the scenic view of the beach from my dorm.
I was glad I detoured "my little holiday"... the Grande, and (it turns out) its nice beaches were right up my street.
Of course simply laying around on the pretty beach (on my doorstep) was "too easy"...especially considering I had been told that marginally nicer beaches were few hours hike away.
Navigating my way through the steep forests for hours on end I found a new respect for the tradition of hiking (and coincidently after feeling particularly "challenged" one afternoon, a small girl (no older than 5)...taking it all in her stride).
That said...The "marginally" nicer beaches were, actually (despite the handful of other beach goers)...a small piece of your own paradise. (and the concept of, somehow.... "earning" your beach time, appealed to me).
After 2 days hiking solo (a lot which was spent "reflecting" on lifes questions), I yearned some sillyness, and I threw myself back into hostel life by signing up for Aquarios "famed" boat party.
...It was like Kos 2003 all over again and we all got a bit silly on the endless supply of caipirinha's (...which made the "famed" boat party so famous).
One of my fellow dormies (and "friend for the day") may or may not have an illigitimate child in 9 months time...
... I suppose he or I will never find out
(more photos
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=189538&id=637432796&l=7618388986
)
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