Thursday 8 December 2011

A Chilling Experience


Last night I stared death in the face. I was struggling to breathe, was coughing helplessly and was genuinely worried for my health. The cause of this dramatic turmoil can be traced to a certain chilli pepper, which had lodged itself in my windpipe. Allow me to set the scene.

On a chilly December evening, I embarked upon yet another hockey social with the University of Bristol Men’s Hockey Club (UBMHC). The occasion was the ‘Fresher’s Meal’ which was to take place in the ‘Brass Pig’, very near to the university complex. Despite the temptation to go for dinner in halls an hour before the meal, I resisted. As a result, my hunger was nearly tangible, as a group of us boarded the bus that would take us across the Downs and into the city.

The atmosphere inside was excitable. A whole floor had been booked out and everyone seemed intent on meeting all the other freshers and having a good time. Personally, I was more excited for my pizza. I had ordered the ‘Diablo’, a very intimidating pizza and one that I had partly ordered to appear tough and chivalrous in front of the vast number of females present. Alas, how misguided was I to believe that I could conquer the ‘Diablo’ without a fight; how could I assume such a stance of audacity without questioning the power of the demon I was faced with; how could I, an experienced pizza critic, fail to predict the consequences of spicy toppings in the unchartered territory of a restaurant I had formerly never set foot in?

Due to the overwhelming numbers of hungry students, the pizzas were staggered in their arrival. I was a starving lion in the savanna, and when the antelope reared its horns, I pounced. I really attacked this pizza; within three minutes I was nearly halfway through. From the first bite, I could tell that it was spicy; in fact, it was very spicy. I decided that eating quickly was the best solution. And then disaster struck. So furiously was I devouring this pizza, that one sneaky chilli managed to escape down the wrong pipe. The following minutes were touch and go; the laughter of onlookers turned to fear and weeping as I struggled to squeeze the air in and out of my lungs, whilst the evil chilli quickly set to work on burning my throat from the inside. My voice was hoarse and words inaudible, my face was the dark maroon colour of my UBMHC tie. Medics were summoned and professional opinions sought, but for half an hour, nothing seemed to work.

Finally, a bought of laughter allowed me to remove the remnants of the chilli and I was freed from the burning chokehold of the devil. I was able to enjoy the rest of the evening and continued in much higher spirits. The hours since have given me time for reflection and I believe I have uncovered the moral of this adventure:

Never again will I underestimate an item of food that could jeopardise the enjoyment or speed of consumption of my meal. 

Wednesday 16 November 2011

Should England's Cautious Optimism be a Cause for Concern?

England's recent performances against Spain and Sweden have produced decent displays and results against good teams. Two clean sheets and several encouraging debut performances will have certainly pleased Fabio Capello, but as ever with England, we must not let ourselves get carried away. At every tournament, English fans allow themselves to believe, to dare, to hope that maybe this time we can do it. No matter what state the team is in, or however good the best opposition may be, the majority of England fans will believe that not only can we win, but that we should. It is this expectation which I consider to be the root of the problem. 

In major tournaments, England always play under immense pressure, both from the media and the general public. Advertisements support the team and encourage patriotism, bringing the nation together in an attempt to kickstart England's challenge. And yet, in recent years we have failed to provide what is hoped for. After England's embarrassing demise in Bloemfontein last Summer, people admitted that we just weren't good enough, that we just didn't have what it takes to compete at the top international level. But now, merely 17 months later,  the media is already sowing the tentative seeds of hope. Looking back at recent years, the harvest will be unfulfilling and disappointing. 

Journalists and pundits do not help. Innocent comments alone, about England's improvements and future development can cause trouble to a certain extent; but when the likes of ridiculous pundits, such as Adrian "overgrown-baby" Chiles, voice simply outrageous thoughts on national television, England's quiet attempt at resurgence is utterly ruined. After the victory against the Spaniards, Chiles said something on the lines of: "we've beaten the world champions, so in our eyes we are world champions." Yes, beating Spain was an accomplishment, but it does not even come close to putting us on a par with them, let alone winning a major tournament. Chiles' comment was made in jest, or at least I hope it was, but it is the kind of thing that people will remember and all it can do is heap more pressure on the team. 

The victory over Spain was an example of how we can soak up pressure against the best of sides and still manage to scrape a win. And it was nice to see a defence that looked at ease, without the lumbering form of 'captain' John Terry adding unnecessary complications to proceedings. Jagielka and Lescott gave a very good show of themselves, begging the question as to why Terry is still in the squad, let alone the captain of our national side. Scott Parker played well in front of the back four, as did Walcott and Welbeck when he came on. 

Capello allowed himself to experiment against Sweden, giving Jack Rodwell and Kyle Walker their first starts, both of whom impressed with their desire and tenacity. But England could have been made to rue several missed chances in the first half when Wilhelmsson blazed over right at the death. Similarly, Fabregas managed to expose some defensive frailties towards the end of the match against Spain.

In both games, England defended well for the most part and created chances; most importantly, we have come away with two victories. The cautious optimism and casual expectancy is most certainly a cause for concern however. We have to accept the fact that there are far better teams out there at the moment: France and Germany in particular have a great wealth of young talent and now that Spain have figured out how to win a major tournament, they will be very difficult to beat. England are not at this level yet and until we are, it is unfair for the media to big England up because it will only result in the inevitable, gut-wrenching heartbreak. 


Monday 14 November 2011

The King And All Of His Men

I have been introduced to a new song. It is a song that that has immediately become an integral part of my life and evokes a powerful response in me. Excitement courses through my veins as the introduction begins and the musical genius that is Wolf Gang sparks into life. The guitar, drums, piano and synthesiser expertly complement Max Mcelligott's vocals.

The lyric: "I need to see her face for one last time" generates a desire in me to go out and do something crazy or reckless. It's as if time is precious and important things must be done. The fact that I still feel this, a fortnight after I first heard the song, amazes me. Wolf Gang have managed to create a song which can inspire me over and over again. If I have a crucial decision to make, I will listen to this song and it will help me make that choice; not necessarily the correct decision, but a decision nonetheless.

Basically, I am rambling. I just love this song. But only once a twice a year do I find a song that I love this much, so I have worthy cause for excitement. Fortunately, the rest of the album, 'Suego Faults', is similarly fantastic. Seize the day; listen to the song.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TZLv36LvRo8

Friday 4 November 2011

Stoke City: A European Fairy Tale in the Making?

After Stoke City's third, consecutive win in the Europa League and their seventh from eight matches in the competition, people may be wondering whether Tony Pulis' side can go all the way. The Potters looked a dominant force against the star-studded Turkish giants, Besiktas, and even more so as they brushed aside Maccabi Tel-Aviv for the second time in a fortnight.

Group E was acknowledged as a very tough group, particularly due to over 11,000 miles of travelling that Stoke will have to endure. But, if anything, they seem to have risen to the challenge. Unlike many away matches played in the Premier League, Stoke looked comfortable against an inferior Israeli side, despite an impressive unbeaten home record for the hosts, stretching back to a 2004 defeat to Bayern Munich. Far from being daunted by the task put in front of them, Pulis has managed to create a Stoke side that can pass the ball around with fluidity rather than simply troubling the opposition with a constant barrage from set pieces. Indeed, only six of Stoke's fifteen European goals have come from set pieces.

Another testament to Pulis is that every player looks proud to pull on the shirt and the group dynamic is certainly there for all to see. Pulis' late business in the transfer market was perfect for a team potentially looking to go far in Europe. Nine changes were made from the team that lost to Newcastle United on the weekend, allowing players to rest, especially important in a very busy period for the Potters.

One thing that may be playing on Pulis' mind is the danger of a European run. Despite a significantly larger squad than he has previously had at his disposal, Pulis will still have to ensure that the results keep coming in domestically. For the majority of Stoke fans, the Europa League is a fantastic sideshow for the club, but retaining Premier League status has to be the top priority. Pulis constantly stated this during the Potters' magnificent cup run last season and one can be sure that he won't lose sight of the main aim.

Just like Fulham a few years ago, Stoke City could be the big surprise in the competition this year; watch this space.

Friday 30 September 2011

My View On Tattoos

This weekend, in Las Vegas, the aptly named: The Biggest Tattoo Show On Earth takes place, featuring the household names of tattoo artists, such as Mike DeVries and Bob Tyrell, legends in their field. The festival celebrates the modern practice of tattoo art, giving artists the opportunity to demonstrate their skills to the tattoo-loving people of this world.

The tattoo has certainly become a more popular addition to the world we live in. Dating back almost 5000 years, it is perhaps remarkable that its popularity is only beginning to come to the fore now. Formerly used for religious or social division purposes, the tattoo has now become something that many people employ for a variety of other reasons. There are emotional motives; for example, having a loved one’s name tattooed into your skin or perhaps a particularly poignant lyric of a song; artistic motives and, of course, the idea that a tattoo will look ‘cool’.

The tattoo could be argued as something that demonstrates confidence and self-belief; to be unashamed to walk around with an image or words etched into the skin must surely take a lot of courage. Conversely, I would suggest that it is a sign of insecurity; for people who have maybe struggled to stand out in a crowd, a tattoo offers them the chance to be different and possibly more noticeable. One could argue that tattoos can depict beauty and indeed, plenty of people do have remarkable images on their bodies. I would argue that these tattoos often may hide insecurities and are used, perhaps vainly, to draw attention away from their other features.

The main problem with tattoos in our society is that our stereotypical view of tattoos is outdated; most people are not aware of the magnificent body art that can be created. For many, the images that spring to mind are those of bikers and criminals, with hardened outer shells and bulging muscles. Another image could be the idea of the ‘tramp stamp’, a tattoo etched onto the lower back, often depicting an animal or some East Asian symbols. This tattoo intrigues me particularly; why have something tattooed onto your body that you can’t even see? It seems ludicrous to me, especially as the majority of people with foreign symbols don’t actually know their meaning, they just believe what the tattoo artist tells them. Similarly, if these words or symbols have such a strong meaning that you are willing to have them on your skin for the rest of your life, why not just put them on a wall in your home or, at the very least, have them tattooed where you can see them.

The tattoo is certainly expressive, can be artistic and indeed beautiful. But for me, the tattoo remains a vulgar, eternal stamp of insecurity and vanity.

Tuesday 23 August 2011

The End Of A Journey

Camp is now over and there were emotional goodbyes everywhere. On Saturday morning, plenty of the staff were in tears. Strong bonds and friendships have been formed in the two months we have all spent together and it can be quite brutal for some to have these ties severed so abruptly. For me, it was much more difficult to say goodbye to my campers; young adults who look up to me more than I could have imagined. It felt like leaving 20 younger siblings, all desperate for me to stay.

The last fortnight of camp has been just as exciting and probably busier than previous weeks. We had a two day trip to 'Club Getaway', described to me as a camp for camps, with delicious food, a game show, a dance party and other activities, bigger and better than the ones we have at Hillcroft. Nonetheless, I wasn't sorry to be back at good old camp once the trip was over. And just last Wednesday, the Hillcroft Friendship Games took place. The older campers were split into four teams; we made t-shirts, assigned team names and the whole day was full of fun, sporting activities. I was even lucky enough to be on the winning team.

Outside of camp, I have enjoyed several fun evenings with other staff members, as we gradually said our farewells and I even managed to see a Broadway show on a trip to the city last weekend. The show was called 'Memphis' and has immediately jumped up to number two on my Musical Chart, only second to 'Wicked'. And after a few relaxing days after camp, I headed up to Philadelphia today for my flight and witnessed the square I was sitting in get flocked by people as the buildings were evacuated due to the earthquake all the way down in Virginia.

And so, I am saying goodbye to New York and the States and greeting my much beloved England again. Over the last couple of days, I have had plenty of time to reminisce about my time in the Americas. I began in the Dominican Republic. At first, it was hard. Due to the language barrier and the colour of my skin, I was an obvious outsider, but I battled with it and grew to form some great friendships, such that I found it very hard to leave.
Next, I moved onto South America. I had been travelling before and had really enjoyed it, but nothing could have prepared me for the magical atmosphere that engulfs Latin America. Even now, some of the people I met and the places I saw still seem a little unbelievable. I can't recommend South America enough; whether it is natural beauty or crazy experiences you seek, this continent has it all.
And last but not least, Camp Hillcroft. Here, relationships have blossomed and it has certainly been the most rewarding part of my travels. The two months have absolutely flown by and I genuinely can't believe it is the end of August already.

However, I do feel that the time is right for me to be heading home and starting my next set of adventures at university. One thing I have been saying to people all year, particularly at camp is that the most important thing is to have fun. People ask me if I miss home and I tell them that I don't have time to miss home. I'll think about home when I get there. I prefer to think in the here and now, staying active and busy.

I would like to finish my blog on a quote from my French friend, Xavier. This is something he said to me a lot while we were travelling and I believe that it may go some way in helping you understand how fantastic this year has been so far.

"I woke up this morning and wanted to hug my life."

Thank you all for reading.

Tuesday 9 August 2011

Severe Enjoyment

If I had thought that there might be a slight lull in the excitement as we moved into the second session of life at Camp Hillcroft, I could not have been more wrong. The departure of campers at the end of 4 weeks and the arrival of new ones meant a fair bit of paperwork for myself and my co-counsellor. But I feel that the group of kids that we now have is much better than it was a couple of weeks ago. Also, my relationships with campers are growing all the time. I genuinely felt sad when one of my campers left last Friday and I have emotive reactions to their behaviour, like they are becoming a part of my life. I'm sure it sound very strange, but I find that I'm just having a laugh all day, every day, whether it is with staff or with children.

At the end of week 5, we had the annual Arts Festival. What this involves is where the whole staff decide upon a theme and transform the camp overnight, decorating buildings and creating props, all dressing in costumes, for the campers to see the following day. This year, the theme was Hercules, so camp was decked out with pillars and mythological alcoves dotted all around camp. Every staff member was dressed in some form of a toga; the effect was rather impressive. Throughout the course of the day, there were scenes from the story to perform, with a cast made up of staff. I played Philoctetes, the satyr, a cross between man and goat, and was asked by the director to play the role in a 'David Brent' style; the classic, English, dry sarcasm which Americans love to bits but often don't fully understand. I was dressed in merely shorts and goats horns and I pranced around camp all day long; as you can imagine, I had an absolute blast.

The following morning at 5am, I went with four international staff members to Boston. We managed to get a very interesting tour of Fenway Park, the Boston Red Sox stadium and a look around Harvard University. Boston was a pleasant city, without any particular character that I have felt in New York, Buenos Aires or Rio de Janeiro for example. However, it was certainly nice to visit and get a few days away from the insanity that is camp. On the Sunday, we headed up to Cape Cod, an island off the coast of Massachusetts, with several quaint beaches. It was a very relaxing afternoon for the group and we had a great time swimming and sunbathing.

Other highlights have been the "Staff Olympics", which involved a tournament on one Saturday for all the staff. There was a lot of competitiveness because it gave us a chance to compete properly, away from the campers, against whom we have to go easy. This weekend just gone, the majority of the staff all headed towards Boston for an Ultimate Frisbee tournament. It is a sport that I have come to really enjoy and I have discovered that it is actually a very physically demanding past time. Unfortunately, the team was unable to win a game, but we had a fantastic time. Another highlight of recent weeks would have to be the trip with our campers to Mountain Creek Water Park. Some of the rides there were just remarkable; the heights and speeds you could reach were staggering and the variety of attractions on offer was superb. It was a place that I could easily have spent a week at; even the queues were pretty small because the sky was slightly overcast.

In short, being at camp continues to be everything and more than what I was hoping for or expecting. I have met some fantastic people and have really discovered that working with children could be a very plausible career for me. And now, with just over two weeks until I return home, I find myself becoming nostalgic for this place, fully aware that I will be back to life in England in an instant. Of course, I am excited for returning home, but camp is a place that I am certainly not bored or tired of just yet.    

Saturday 23 July 2011

Just Another Fortnight At Camp


I continue to find that I have limited time to do anything other than enjoy myself. I think I actually have the best job on camp. This week, I was sent on a 3 day outing to Baltimore, on an excursion with the kids. Yes, I had responsibilities, but essentially, I was paid to watch the Baltimore Orioles beat the Boston Red Sox, paid to spend all day at an awesome theme/ water park, paid to devour a fabulous buffet dinner, followed by a showing of the musical Anything Goes and paid to stay in a business hotel. The behaviour of the children was much better than it has been on camp, so my job really was a walk in the park.

The week before that was as close to a regular week at camp as I’m going to have. Because my kids are some of the oldest and go on trips, their timetable is continually changing. However, I enjoy the variety, which many people don’t experience if they are working at the same program area all day, every day. I have been striking up some great relationships with the kids as well. I can joke around with them and it’s for this reason that it doesn’t really feel like a job, more just having a good time.

This said, there were some unusual activities last week. We had the International Children’s Festival, the highlight of which was a carnival day, with exciting stalls for the kids to spend money on. I believe this is the reason why Linda told me to bring my saxophone, because I found myself leading a group of about 50 staff members as we processed around camp playing Oh When The Saints Go Marching In. I happily engaged in a number of activities, including being dunked in a tub of freezing cold water and busk-dancing in the middle of camp. I am pleased to say that I raised $7 for charity.

The only downside at the moment would have to be the heat. Today, the heat index was to be 115°F, which means that it will feel like 46°C. I am genuinely scared of what is in store; so far, I have avoided getting sunburnt and am staying healthy; it seems strange to think that there is only a little over 4 weeks remaining. The time is going to fly. 

Friday 8 July 2011

Moving to New York


As I’m sure you can imagine, I was ridiculously excited to be arriving in New York. My first two weeks since have been outrageously busy.  I arrived in the city on the Wednesday 22nd June and spent the day with mum, looking around some of the shops and generally just enjoying the New York experience. In the evening we managed to see a great show called The Blue Man Group, featuring vibrant paint displays and plenty of impressive drumming.

The following morning, I departed for Camp Hillcroft from Grand Central Station. The train broke down halfway there and the tracks got flooded, so that we were delayed by about an hour. And when we finally did arrive at the station, the rain soaked all of the clothes in my bag. The first four days at camp were ‘orientation’, which gave me a chance to meet plenty of the people that I will be working with for the Summer, as well as getting to know the camp area and what the arrangements are for each day.

And then on Monday, bright and early, the kids started arriving. I had been assigned the Seniors group, which means 8th grade, which means 13 years old to us. My job is very simple; I just have to look after them and make sure they find their way around and make it to all the activities they’ve signed up to do. The kids are old enough to be able to get to an activity themselves, whereas the younger groups need to be escorted everywhere. After sending the kids off, each of the counsellors in our grade will go and join in one of the activities to which our kids have dispersed. So essentially, I get to enjoy camp as one of the kids does, but in a role of responsibility.

One major perk of my job is that I get to go on trips with the kids. In the last two weeks alone, I’ve been roller skating, bowling and just yesterday to a theme/ water park; and it is all paid for by the camp. The kids can get slightly nightmarish when very excitable, but otherwise the enjoyment of working with them keeps me entertained most of the day.

The evenings are normally spent with the international resident staff, of which there are about 40. Everyone I have met is great to talk to and really fun. The reason my time has been limited is mainly due to these people, who, like me, are always up for doing something. The surrounding area is quite quiet, but there are a few bars around and when there’s so many of us, there isn’t really a problem with ID. Similarly, we have license to roam around camp and make the most of all the facilities there, such as the tennis courts or swimming pools. Finding the time to sit down and relax is very hard for me.

I spent my long 4th July weekend in New York City, staying in a friend’s apartment on Upper West Side, who I had met a few months ago in Argentina. I was given another tour of the city and enjoyed a nice wander around the city, including a horse and cart ride through Central Park and some nice strolls down 5th Avenue and Times Square. On the evening of Independence Day, myself and a few friends from camp were lucky enough to watch the immense fireworks display from the 29th floor apartment, overlooking the Hudson. The view and the fireworks were just ridiculous; they were unlike anything I had seen before…

I am planning to go on some more weekend escapades over the coming two months and I already know that this Summer is going to be a lot of fun. 

Wednesday 22 June 2011

Machu Picchu

After negotiating the border with no problems we made it into the wonderful city of Cusco. Immediately noticable was the lack of rubbish lining the streets and the smell of fresh air as opposed to urine. Similarly to many cities in this part of the world, Cusco is built in a valley and spreads up the surrounding hillsides. The central Plaza de Armas is large and vibrant, playing host to impressive, Inca architecture, and always buzzing with activities. We enjoyed some Alpaca steak whilst overlooking the Peruvian dancing schools at work; it was most enjoyable.

But after only two days to explore the delights of Cusco, Xavier and I began our four day trek to Machu Picchu. We started with four hours mountain biking from inside the clouds to dirt tracks at the edge of the rainforest. The second and third days were spent trekking through the rainforest, in places along the Inca Trail itself. We got some spectacular views of the valley, a ride over the white-water river in a rickety, iron cart and a very rewarding dip in some hot springs at the end of a long, hard day. 

The evening before Machu Picchu was spent in the quaint, little town of Aguas Calientes. From there, at 3 o'clock in the morning, we set off. It was only an hour-long climb, but the pace was rapid and we had to ensure we arrived near the front so as to be able to climb the Huayna Picchu mountain, overlooking the site. As it turned out, we arrived first and were rewarded with a view of Machu Picchu devoid of toursits. 

Over the course of the morning, our guide informed us about the ceremonial and religious history that Mahu Picchu holds, as well as the anger that the Peruvians still have for the Americans, who have failed to return valuable artifacts. Maybe I had heard too much about the place before I arrived, but I didn't find Machu Picchu too incredible. The fact that it is built so high up and that it remained hidden for so long is impressive, but it is essentially just some ruins on a hillside. Nevertheless, it was an enjoyable day, culminating in expulsion from the site for filming Xavier walking around in his boxer shorts. Apparently, it was disrespectful to the history of the Incas.

And so, my time in South America has drawn to a close; goodbye to the glorious food, the lofty heights and dazzling scenery. I won't miss the irritating tourists or continually being ripped-off by locals, but the people and atmosphere have been great. I'm sure I will have to set a return date. But now, I am moving to New York... 

Tuesday 14 June 2011

A Birthday of the Highest Standards

6080m. On June 9th, I woke up at midnight and climbed 900 metres uphill in the dark, wind and snow, to the summit of the Hoyana Potosi mountain. It took 5 hours and was the most challenging experience of my life, both physically and mentally. My legs were aching and just lifting each foot was an effort; but the real difficulty was breathing: at 6000 metres, there is just not enough air, so after a few steps you find yourself out of breath. 

On numerous occassions, I wanted to lie down and cry, or at least stop climbing and head back. I just had to keep telling myself to go on and not give up. I've never felt so exhausted as when I arrived at the top; I just wanted to be asleep in a bed, far, far away. I could barely appreciate the view or the achievement because I was so tired. I did manage to open a birthday card at the top and watch the sun poking out from behind the mountains, before I hurried back down. 

The two days before had been spent training and acclimatizing, with crampons and mountain-axe, and a brief, rocky trek, laden with heavy packs. I feel very satisfied that I managed to do it, especially as half of the group didn't make it, and it was certainly a memorable start to my birthday. After a sleep in the afternoon, I went out for an 'English-style' curry with 10 guys that I have met in the last month or so. It was no Wimbledon Ahmed, but it was a deserved reward. 

I had spent a couple of days exploring La Paz. It is another city built in a peculiar location, with the central avenue running through a valley and the rest of the city sprawled up the surrounding hills. The vast market streets we discovered were good training for the steep mountain passes to come, especially as we spent a good six hours there. Unfortunately, the Bolivians are quite tough and so haggling was difficult, much unlike the Chinese, who would halve the price if you so much as turned your back.

I had hoped to spend the next few days relaxing, but what with problems at the border between Bolivia and Peru and the excitement among many travellers about the NBA and NHL finals, this proved rather difficult. And so, on Saturday morning, I took a bus down to Copacabana, a small town, nestled between hills and perched on the shores of the magnificent Lake Titicaca. From there, with the two Frenchmen, we took a two hour boat ride to the north side of the Isla del Sol. At 4000m, it is one of the higest islands in the world and the sun was hot on our necks as we began our trek south. Ideally, we could have stayed on the island for a few days, but the border would be closed again on Monday morning. During our 3 hour trek from north to south, we experienced the most incredible sunset. It wasn't just the sun disappearing behind the distant mountains, but the profound stillness and silence; a silence so deafening that it hurt my ears. The following morning was similarly ridiculous in terms of the views on offer and the peaceful atmosphere. I am now heading into Peru for my final week and a half in South America!!       

Monday 6 June 2011

Bolivia at Breakneck Speed

For the last week I have been travelling with two Frenchmen and two Israelis. Our days are spent enjoying Bolivia and the evenings are spent 'setting bars and clubs on fire'. It has been so much fun, but sadly our time together is drawing to a close.

Monday was spent in the highest city in the world, Potosi, which stands at a a whopping 4070m. There are plenty of mines offering tours and the chance to make controlled dynamite explosions, so of we went! It was nothing short of legendary. We were given helmets, wellies and dust suits and shown what they do with the silver that is mined. Then we headed in. For two hours I was hunched over or crawling through tiny tunnels in the mines. Wagons would frequently pass by, causing us to jump aside into any nooks an crannies we could find. The heat was almost unbearable, close to 40 degrees at one point and combined with the dust and altitude, we were all feeling the strain. We met a 60 year old miner, still working there and we were informed that slaves used to spend 3 months underground at a time. It must have been hell. Breaking out into daylight again felt very nice indeed.

After only one day in Potosi, we took the bus to Sucre, which, according to Bolivians is the capital city, not La Paz. It was a really nice city, with a great central plaza and plenty to see. It's the kind of city that I could have easily spent a couple of months in. We found a bar serving delicious 'honey, home-brew beer' and frequented its rich, mahogany decor each evening. I bought a pair of collapsable, outrageously funky glasses and we enjoyed strolling around the cities parks and plazas. I would very much liked to have stayed longer. 

The next stop on our rapid tour was Cochabamba, which has a statue of Christ overlooking the city, just like in Rio. This one is only 15 years old, but it is 4 metres taller and I'm told is the biggest one in the world. The city wasn't particularly nice; everywhere seemed to be a market, with meat and fish just in wheelbarrows on the street, no ice, no salt, no nothing. You could buy chicken heads and feet as well as brains, which was rather disturbing. The evening was fun though, as we celebrated the birthday of one of the group in some style. 

The following morning, we headed to La Paz on the most comfortable bus I've been on in my entire trip; it really was heavenly. We're staying in an Irish hostel with plenty of English food on offer, which I'm hoping to devour in the next couple of days. Bolivia is wonderfully cheap. You only have to pay 2 pounds for a decent three course meal and you can buy sumptuous hamburgers for as little as 40p! For an overnight bus, it is only 5 pounds; it really is ridiculous. I'm very much looking forward to next week because La Paz seems like a cool city and I'm hoping to spend my birthday in a spectacular location. To find out where, see next week's installment... 

Monday 30 May 2011

La Salar de Uyuni

After a game of aeroplane ping-pong, during which I flew over the city twice, I finally touched down in La Paz. I had been warned about the possible altitude sickness, as La Paz stands at 3,640m above sea level, however, the only problem I encountered was a small marmite explosion when I opened my bottle. All this meant was that I enjoyed a lot of marmite with some Bolivians, who seemed very impressed! 

The following evening I headed South. My plan was to meet up with Xavier in Tupiza and do a tour of the Salar de Uyuni (Salt Flats). I had to wait in Tupiza for a few days before our group arrived and we could head off. I enjoyed relaxing by the pool and even did some horse-riding, during which I almost managed to get myself run over by a train; horses really aren't my thing... On Wednesday morning, my friends arrived. We were a group of 15 people, split into three jeeps. The delay had certainly whet my appetite and I was very excited. Our first day was devoted to the mountainous surroundings of Tupiza, including some spectacular views and windy passes. 

Day two was long, starting at 4:30 with a drive through a ghost town at sunrise and some beautiful, coloured lagoons, stretching across the vast, high, Bolivian plains. The highlight for me was the hot springs at lunchtime: a pool of boiling water next to an iced-over lake, a wonderfully relaxing setting. Both evenings, electricity was rationed and the starry sky was phenomenal. I was glad to have purchased a hat and gloves as the evenings were freezing. Even a football match at 4900m failed to keep us warm, although it did leave us completely breathless, as we were dazzled and destroyed by a group of Bolivian children. 

On day three, our jeep failed to start and while we were waiting I managed to break a window of the hostel. However, the previous day, a girl had lost her shoe in a lake and my Dutch buddy, Hylke, almost managed to drown in a geyser, so my accident went almost unnoticed. We spent the evening in a hostel made entirely out of salt; it was awesome.

We were up early again for the final day, the salt flat day. We had to cross some water to get to the salt flats and watched the sunrise reflecting from the water. The lack of perspective on the vast salt flat makes photos really exciting and we managed to take several. 

At the end of the tour we were dropped in the town of Uyuni; it had been an epic four days. Now I am heading to Potosi, the highest city on the world...

Saturday 21 May 2011

Iguazu Falls

It has certainly been a bizarre week. It felt extremely wierd to be at home, especially for such a short period of time. But my brief stay was both enjoyable and productive, even though the focal point of the weekend turned out to be disappointing. The final was very impressive and the atmosphere was electric; despite Man City's best efforts, we certainly won the volume contest. Alas, if only the story on the pitch had been the same... We didn't turn up to be honest, which was a shame because we had been playing so well before the game. I had made the classic football fan mistake of believing that we were going to win and thus, I was even more devastated when the game ended in defeat. Nevertheless, I remained in good spirits as best I could and Saturday evening was a success, both in terms of the number of Stoke shirts on show in the house and Blue's fabulous Eurovision effort, bagging us a wonderful 100 points. Needless to say, I lost my voice.

And so, I headed back off to Brazil. After two days travelling, I arrived in the town of Foz do Iguaçu in Brazil. From there I crossed the border into Argentina to the town of Puerto Iguazu an eventually to my hostel. The hostel was as good as a hotel and I spent the day just sunbathing by the pool with some young, Canadian engineers. I had my food cooked for me again by an Israeli; they seem to love cooking, as if to prove that they can do it. Whereas I am more than happy to let people cook for me! 

The next morning I was up at 7, ready to see the falls before the crowds got too large. They say that the negative ions generated by the sheer volume of pounding water create a feeling of happiness as you approach the falls. Indeed, I was really excited, really pumped for it. We went to the big one first: Garganta del Diablo (Devil's Throat). Nothing could have prepared me for what I experienced there. The river is really calm, but you can hear the roaring of water in the distance, gradually increasing with every step. And then the world just falls away. The water plummets down into an abyss; you can't see the bottom due to the mist, the noise is deafening, such that I could barely hear myself think and the spray literally drenches you. It was the most amazing thing I have ever seen; I just couldn't believe how incredible it was. Describing it is impossible; pictures and videos don't even come close to explaining the feeling; it has to be seen, experienced, lived. I give it my highest recommendation, it was legendary.

The rest of the day was spent walking around the park. There are plenty more falls to see and we made sure we saw every single one, including a boat trip over to the central San Martin island, which offered a fantastic panoramic view of the falls. Even now, almost 48 hours later, I am still feeling amazed by it. I could have stood on that viewing platform overlooking the Devil's Throat for a week. Unbelievable experience.

I am now commencing the third leg of my South America tour, with two months devoted to Bolivia and Peru. Bring it on! 

Wednesday 11 May 2011

A Spontaneous Journey

The football match was certainly an experience. The fans were on their feet, moving and singing all the time. Flamengo played appalingly, but they didn't seem to mind too much; they were more intent on making a lot of noise and trying to break the stadium. The standard of football was better than I had expected and I bought a cheap Ronaldinho shirt, which was cool.

The following morning, I went on a Favela tour. The Rocinha Favela is the largest in the world and is home to over 200,000 people. As all the Favelas are built on hills surrounding Rio, we took motorbike taxis up which were a lot of fun. On the way down, in the blistering heat, we saw some great grafitti art and some local drummers, as well as a few guys who were just casually sitting with a machine gun on their lap; you know, as you do. It reminded me of where Cristian lives in the Dominican Republic, just bigger, dirtier and obviously more dangerous. It really is a shame that these Favelas exist as they do. 99% of the Favela population are just trying to scrape a living and stay alive. Unfortunately, the other 1% are the drug gangs and so the police can't go in there to try ad sort it out.  

Friday and Saturday nights in Rio are awesome. The district of Lapa in the north of the city gets completely shut down as thousands of people fill the streets. There are stands selling food, vendors selling drinks and more clubs and bars than you can imagine all in one place. We spent about an hour wandering around before choosing a suitable location. I really enjoyed Rio, but for me Buenos Aires is unbeatable in terms of enjoyment..

On Saturday evening, I was still unsure as to where I should go next; Paraty or Florianopolis. In the end, I went to neither because I met an Argentinian photographer, Victor, who was driving to the town of Ouro Preto in the mining region, north of Rio, and looking for someone to accompany him. He managed to persuade me and so the next morning we set off on a 7 hour drive in his 1972 Peugeot 404. The car attacted a lot of attention as we wound our way through the hills, struggling up and speeding down. We stopped a couple of times so that Victor could take some photos of the views, enlisting the help of his model (a dummy), Clara. 

The city was beautiful. Every building was 18th century architecture and there were churches and statues dotted all over the place. As we drove up through tiny cobbled streets, the roads became narrower and narrower, until we burst onto the stunning Plaza de Tiradentes. Walking around the city the following day, I struggled up several, ridiculously steep hills and again found myself wondering why the Brazilians insisted on building their cities in such inconvenient places; first Rio and now this! I managed to see some architecture by Brazil's most famous sculptor, Aleijandinho, who lost the use of his hands at the age of 30, but continued to sculpt by attaching tools to his arms. And to think, I have trouble with sandcastles...

Thursday 5 May 2011

Brazil

My arrival in Brazil was greeted with rain; lots and lots of rain. I decided to take a taxi from the airport because it was dark and I would have got soaked. The streets of Sao Paulo were packed with cars and it seemed like the driver had a battle on his hands to get us through the onslaught. 

During my three days in Sao Paulo, I visited a museum with a very interesting social project called "The 6 Billion Others", saw a little of the Royal Wedding, which even the Brazilians seemed to be interested in and sipped Caipirinhas (Brazil's National Cocktail). My overriding feeling of Sao Paulo is that it is just too big. It doesn't have the character of other cities because it is a vast, swarming metropolis, home to more than 20 million people. Nevertheless, my experiences were most pleasant.

Rio is another story altogether. I have been staying a stone's throw away from Copacabana Beach and close to Ipanema. Unlike Sao Paulo, there is a tangible atmosphere here, which seems to be infectious. On Tuesday evening I found a bar playing live samba music. Now, trying to dance samba is very difficult and I'm sure I looked ridiculous, but I had a great time. You have to move so quickly and it's very tiring, but I was up to the challenge. Today was spent on the beach at Copacabana enjoying the sun and the sea; the waves were remarkable. If you didn't time your dives just right, you would get dragged along the sea bed by the current. I took a few blows to the head but it was brilliant.

It hasn't been all perfect though. Until today the weather had been quite cloudy and views from the mountains have not been very clear. I did manage to achieve the impossible of taking a picture of the statue of Jesus Cristo Corcovado without any other people in the photo. Unfortunately, Jesus is barely distinguishable, so I'm going to go back if I can one day. 

I have also found that I can read and understand quite a lot of Portuguese, but speaking is very hard. There are similarities with Spanish, but the accent is not one of them. Somebody told me that "Portuguese is like Spanish spoken by Sean Connery". I'm beginning to think that they had a point...

This evening, in preparation for the biggest match of my life next week, I will hopefully be going to a Brazilian Cup match in which Ronaldinho should be playing. I've heard that the atmosphere is crazy so I'm very excited for that.

Friday 29 April 2011

A Uruguayan Sunset

Cabo Polonio is a remarkable place. After a half an hour journey across the sand dunes by buggy, you arrive at a tiny village, perched on the coast. Seeing this village here and walking along the rolling and dunes was impressive enough, but then the sun set. It was a panoramic view, a dazzling, 360 degree whirl of colour. The orangy-red haze as the sun disappeared behind the dunes, slowly fading into a deep purple over the swirling ocean. Spectacular. Unfortunately, my overriding feeling was just how cold it had become. When I had set out, the sun had been shining and shorts and flip-flops were the perfect attire. But the lack of sun, combined with the sea breeze meant that the buggy ride back was freezing. The Uruguayans, dressed in coats, hats and scarves clearly felt sorry for me in my chilly condition and continuously offered me Máte (a herbal concoction, similar to tea) in an attempt to warm me up. I don't particularly like the taste, but I appreciated the gesture all the same. 

My Easter Sunday sunrise was pretty spectacular too, further up the coast at Punta del Diablo. Rising over the waves, the sun was hot as I lay on the beach, savouring the warmth after the cold of the previous night. The people there seemed to have forgotten that it was Easter Sunday, due to living such a relaxed beach lifestyle. I could easily have spent much longer there, but I was keen to spend a few more days in Buenos Aires before heading into Brazil. 

On Monday I was back into the Milhouse hostel routine with Xavier. We played pool against two English guys for about half an hour and I successfully managed to pretend to be French for the entire time. My disguise basically consisted of the phrases I remembered from GCSE and the words to the Flight of the Conchords song, 'Foux de Fafa'. I also managed to impress some Glaswegians with my Kevin Bridges impression, which made me very happy indeed.

On Tuesday, Xavier and I attempted to visit the zoo in Lujan, but horribly misjudged our timings and ended up missing the zoo completely. All that Lujan had to offer was a relatively impressive cathedral, but it wasn't the animal experience we had been hoping for...

I have really enjoyed being in Buenos Aires. It is a really fantastic city, with a lot to see and do, as well as an incredible nightlife. I will certainly miss the Argentinian food and lifestyle, but I'm sure Brazil will have a lot to offer.. I can't imagine that I'm going to forget my time here in a hurry; it has been great! 

Saturday 23 April 2011

From Buenos Aires to the Beaches of Uruguay

Sunday was remarkable. Bolton Wanderers 0-5 Stoke City. We played like a dream, and my day was perfect; I could do no wrong. I even managed to wrestle the TV from four obnoxious English guys, who seemed to think tht Arsenal vs Liverpool could be more entertaining... I was sat in the hostel bar, alone, cheering and dancing at regular intervals that caused a lot of peculiar looks from certain people, but I didn't care; we were going to Wemberlee!!! 

On Monday night, I went to see a drumming show calle 'La Bomba De Tiempo' (Time Bomb) which was awesome: the thing that impressed me most was the variety of style and sound that they consistently seemed to be producing.. The following evening was back to a regular night out after a day of strolling around the gardens in the South of the city, casually burning my neck in the late afternoon sun. 

On Wednesday morning, I headed off to Montevideo, Uruguay. I missed my boat, but luckily managed to reschedule and arrived in the afternoon. The hostel was very relaxed after the insanity that is Milouse Avenue, Buenos Aires and I enjoyed a more civilised evening on Monday, before a day of sightseeing on Tuesday. There is a market in Montevideo which houses numerous restaurants. These restaurants sell meat in ridiculous quantities and have displays of steadily cooking meat in whichever direction you look. In the end I decided to have a 'chivito', which is like a hamburger, but bigger and with egg as well; it was delicious.

After only two days in Montevideo (which I believe was sufficient time), I headed East to Punta del Este, Uruguay's equivalent of Monte Carlo. The beaches were spectacular and I had an enjoyable stroll, during which I bumped into some people I had met the day before. I tried to book a room in their hostel, but they were full, so I was homeless for the night. I decided we had better make it an all-nighter and headed out in good spirits to a casino. I told myself I was only going to spend 10$ and actually made a tidy 74 cent profit! We also received free drinks, so everything was good. I also managed to crash on the floor in the hostel for free, so not only have I saved money here, but I have earned some too! Today I am heading up the coast to Cabo Polonio and then Punta del Diablo, before whizzing back to Buenos Aires on Monday!

Saturday 16 April 2011

Buenos Aires

This has been a crazy week in Buenos Aires. The nightlife is fantastic and it is generally deemed unnacceptable to return home before sunrise.. Nevertheless, I have been making the most of living in one of South America's liveliest cities. Strolling along the wide streets during the day can be really fun, just to experience the bustling city, smelling the various foods from street stalls or else being repeatedly offered to see a tango show.

I took a bike tour on Tuesday, taking in the south of the city; the richest, coastal neighbourhood of Puerto Madero with plenty of snazzy restaurants, the poorer region La Boca, home to Boca Juniors and their immense 'bombadera' stadium, and the San Telmo district, the site of a famous, sprawling market. La Boca is a great neighbourhood because all of the buildings are painted with loads of different colours, making it appealing to the the eye. Just walking along the streets you can see countless bars with live tango performances, both music and dancing. Our final stop of the tour was the Plaza de Mayo, the central square, where it is not uncommon to witness protests, and casting your eye down Avenida de Mayo, Buenos Aires' towering Obelisk is a spike on the smooth horizon.

On Wednesday, we went out for another all you can eat 'asado'. The chorizo sausage assaulted my taste buds to such an extent that I had closed my eyes, put my fingers in my ears and allowed myself to be taken over by the flavours. Afterwards, we headed out to a tango bar and had a good tango/ salsa evening. I really feel like my dancing is improving...

A real highlight was going to see a live tango show. The whole package: music, dancing and comedy was very entertaning. I was not previously aware that legs could move that way; it looked as if they were disconnected from the bodies. The speed and guile of the dancers, combined with the togetherness of the music and the timing of the comedy produced an impressive and professional display.

Despite all of this, my mind has been taken over by one thing this week: Sunday's FA Cup semi final. In preparation, I have been searching for suitable locations to watch said game. Whilst checking out the 'locos por el futbol' bar, we visited the cemetry in Recoleta. It is a place where people spend extravagant money on enormous graves; some have front doors and two or three storeys; it really is ridiculous. 

The hostel I have been staying in here is enormous and full of people intent only on partying, so it will nice to have a few days break as I head into Uruguay next week. 

      

Sunday 10 April 2011

The Argentinian Asado

I arrived in Argentina on a Saturday night, in the wine region of Mendoza. Straight away I went for an asado (BBQ). The volume of meat was unbelievable; literally a mountain of various meats happily sizzling away. Whilst in Mendoza I took a wine tour which included a trip to an olive oil and chocolate factory. The real highlight was the free samples of everything. There was a Mexican Fiesta at the hostel with tacos and guacamole etc.. and I had a really good laugh with some Brazilians I had met earlier.

I've spent the last 5 days in Cordoba, which has to be my favourite city that I have ever visited. There are 7 universities and therefore a lot of students and a great party scene. As a result I have gone out almost every night here. Clubs work very differently here; everyone dances with everyone and it doesn't mean anything. I do enjoy it because you can just let loose and end up having a lot more fun.

I have done some cultural things too this week. I visited one of the Jesuit Missions which was a very impressive architectural feat, although the guide's English was very hard to understand. I also visited the 'Memory Museum' which remembers those who lost their lives and freedom at the hands of the Argentinian Secret Police back in the 1980's.

On Thursday, I went on a day trip to a tiny village about 3 hours from Cordoba called La Cumbrecita. It looks like an alpine village and even had a few signs in German. It is surrounded by hills so we (two Americans and a French guy) ascended the amusingly named 'Cerro Wank' hill at 1715 metres. The views were really special because there are no cities for miles, just endless countryside. Down in the town, I took a very cold, but refreshshing dip at the base of a small waterfall.

Last night I had another asado party, which was again outrageously tasty. I get the feeling that the Argentinians love to go big on everything they do. Ive been staying at the Tango Hostel here and the atmosphere is great; I'm definitely going to have to come bak some day. I'm heading off to Buenos Aires tomorrow, possibly on no sleep at all, so I'm sure it will be a very interesting bus journey.  

Friday 1 April 2011

Santiago

This week, for the first time, I felt like a traveller. No more working, or drinking with the locals, I was out in the wild. I arrived at my hostel on Saturday night and immediately went out with two English guys. Later on in the week a few more English guys arrived and we all grouped together. On Monday, we ascended the hill with a statue of the Virgin Mary looking down over the whole city. The view was incredible, despite a layer of pollution that rendered the distant Andes hazy. We had a barbecue back at the hostel which lasted over 4 hours and happily exchanged football trivia. I was happily surprised to discover that our group contained supporters of Stoke City, Everton, Newcastle, Blackburn and Wolves; a very mixed bag.

The following morning, we headed to a nearby 5-a-side pitch for a game of football. It was very entertaining, but playing in 30 degree midday heat and in barefeet probably wasn't the best idea.. Indeed, 4 days later, I am still struggling to walk! In the afternoon we headed up to a swimming pool in the mountains. The setting was spectacular, but the water was verging on Lake Baikal levels of cold; in other words, there was some shrinkage. The evening inevitably led to another barbecue and further hours of sports discussions. As the early hours drew in, I found myself talking to three Peruvian girls with a Cumbrian lad. It seems that Peruvians have the same sense of humour as the English, so I naturally introduced them to the Inbetweeners, a British treasure.

Last night, we ended up playing lots of drinking games at the hostel before heading to a club. I sneakily managed to wangle the taxis and club entry free of charge. I don't know if 3 hours sleep is the best thing before a long Andean bus journey, but there's only one way to find out! 

Other highlights of the week include a trip South to the town of Rancagua. I went with an Australian guy, hoping to see a rodeo. Alas, our book had misled us. In our futile attempt to find something to do, we wandered around for a while and saw a dog get run over. It was a cool sight from only a few metres away, not in a sadistic way, just in that it was something I had never seen before. In case you're wondering, the dog was fine.. 

I have also drunk a little wine and managed not to grimace at the taste, so I've taken it as a sign that I'm growing up. I haven't yet met anyone younger than 21, so until I do, I might pretend I'm older too; I seem to be able to get away with it. Also, my accent has taken on a Northern twang due to prolonged conversations hearing Northern accents and I have to say that I love it! 

Friday 25 March 2011

Bye Bye RD

So my Dominican Republic experience has come to an end. The last few weeks have gone very quickly. I spent most evenings this week at Cristian's house, savouring the food and banter for one last time. It's amazing how well we get along. Looking back, I think we were a little reserved at first; but now we're cracking jokes and just generally having a good laugh. 

My friendship with Victor has likewise grown. Having developed these relationships makes it difficult for me to want to leave. Last night I went for dinner at Victor's and we all had a sing-song. His 3 year old son's dancing was brilliant. Michel and Maite were there too to see me off, which was really nice. 

Last Saturday was my big send off. Cristian and I bought a gallon of rum and once again made our strawberry concoction, which I've discovered is called 'Papi no te vaya'. Suffice to say, we drunk rather a lot. I won't go into details, but towards the end of the night I spent large periods of time on the floor, and the following morning, I woke up 6 hours later than intended. In other words, a good night! 

I'm now in Punta Cana, on the other side of the island, home to the best beaches in the country. I thought I would allow myself some time in the sun; only about 15 minutes of course. I keep telling myself that there is plenty of time to tan, I just have to avoid burning wherever possible. Slow and steady wins the race!!

Anyway, I've had a great time here; it doesn't feel like I've spent more than 2 months here. Off to Chile tomorrow!

Saturday 19 March 2011

A Typical Week

I spent Saturday night in Cristo Rey, quite a rough part of town, with Cristian and some of his friends, who insisted on taking about 100 photos with my camera. Cristian is very excited because his girlfriend, Rachelle, is pregnant. He always tells me how he wants to have a kid and now he is going to, which is great. While we were sipping our whisky and cranberry, we heard some gunshots a few blocks away. The others didn't seem too bothered by this; Cristian jut shrugged and said: "well, it's a dangerous area." Apparently, the chief of police for this district was shot dead earlier in the week, which is a little worrying. I'm doing my best to stay out of the firing line.

On Sunday, I decided to download some of the local music onto my phone. I'm quite keen on 'bachata' and 'dembow' now, seeing as I've been hearing then non-stop for the past two months. As the downloads were free, I decided to make the most of the opportunity; this basically means downloading every Cat Empire song: very exciting!! 

After work on Monday, I went for a 6 kilometre run in a beautiful part of town. A whole dual carriegeway is closed to cars and only available to runners and cyclists. Sandwiched between a park and the Caribbean Sea, it was an epic jogging spot, enhanced by the rapidly setting sun. I decided to have another haircut, a little shorter than before; you can really see my scalp at the back which is excellent. It should mean that I won't need another one until I get back.. 

I went to Santiago again on Wednesday for business. Over lunch we had a great discussion about sport. I started it off with a deliberately contorversial comment: "Baseball doesn't take much skill really, does it?" This enraged the Dominicans, as expected, and I had to endure 10 minutes of being told how wonderful baseball is. I have to say, that I'm not convinced. The conversation
 moved onto English sport and I found myself explaining our various sporting rivalries with the Scots, Aussies, Germans, Argentinians etc.. We really do know how to hold a grudge!

I did a casual 1.5K swimming on Thursday evening with Victor. We were hoping to enter an open water swimming race at Boca Chica beach on Sunday, but unfortunately, I just missed the application date. Swimming is a lot harder than I remember; my arms hurt quite a lot. 

I leave in exactly a week. People keep asking me when I'm coming back, and when I reply that I'm not, they seem really shocked. They all seem to think that I don't like the country or the people, which is really not true. If anything, I would like to have more time here. Having said that, I am very excited about next week!    

Sunday 13 March 2011

Road Trip

This week has been one of my busiest yet; I've only really spent
sleeping hours at home. On Sunday I went to the carnival in Malecón,
with a group of people I had met through Cristian, including some 5
year old kids who were really funny. The carnival itself was
absolutely crazy. I couldn't believe how many people had turned out;
it must have been about half of the population... The costumes were
just outrageous: demons and dragons were the most common, but there
were people without heads, or with stakes through their hearts, or
dinosaurs. The diversity and effort that people had put in was
staggering.

At about 6 o'clock, the darkness came, and with it, a light drizzle.
Within two minutes it was torrential, and mayhem ensued. People were
desperate to reach the sanctity of a bus or car to avoid the rain.
Fortunately, we managed to squeeze onto a bus; others weren't so
lucky.. Our driver, too, seemed to have been affected by the madness.
In a fruitless attempt to undertake a coach on an already packed road,
he managed to get us squashed, and several layers of paintwork removed
from our vehicle. Once we had returned safely, we had a chilled
evening Cristo Rey. The highlight was a dance off, won by a 6 year old
girl; she drew in a crowd of about 30 people which was most impressive.

On Monday and Tuesday, I went to Victor's after work and we went for a
run. It felt good to be excersising again, having not really done any
so far this year... He introduced me to his friend Michel who is 19.
It was nice to have somebody my age to talk to. We went up to the roof
and did some weights with a few other guys, who were all very keen to
talk and entertain. Over dinner, I found myself trying to explain the
relationship between England and Scotland. It was surprisingly
difficult.

I had to be at work early on Wednesday morning because a group of us
were going to Santiago on business: me, Victor, Nicholas, Miguel,
Rodriguez and Fifol. It was a 2 hour drive and I took in the varying
scenery, from the rice planations to the mountainous straight that
diagonally slices the island. Once there, we set to work on doing an
inventory of all the stock in their warehouse. I felt very
professional with my clipboard and dust mask, and it was nice to be
doing a job that required some responsibility. In the evening, after a
long day, we went out for dinner near Santiago's monument, which
stands atop a hill in the very centre of the city. We were all getting
on very well and it was a really good laugh; they seem to find my
knowledge of certain slang words very amusing.

The following day we worked hard again, so that we could finish in
time to make it back to Santo Domingo at a respectable hour. We
managed to get away just before 8, after a sumptuous pizza hut
takeaway... On the return journey, we saw the beginnings of a forest
fire, which was quite exciting. It had been a really fun two days.

Saturday 5 March 2011

Don't Stop Eating

Almost as soon as the family left on Saturday, I headed over to Cristian's with the remainder of the strawberry rum that my lightweight family had not managed to drink. It felt oddly routine to be hanging out with Cristian again, just back to my normal lifestyle. We had a 'lads' night, which basically consisted of drinking and dominoes. I actually played this time. I think I did OK, but I did struggle to keep up with the pace at times. They all seem to know exactly which pieces everyone has when we get down to a couple each. It reminded me of how quickly darts players can work out their checkout. One of the guys there knew a little bit about football, which was nice becausee all the normally talk about is baseball...

The 27th February is Independence Day here, so I went round to Cristian's again on Sunday afternoon. From 2 till 8, we sat in his street with numerous relatives, watching a group of young dancers that would appear every so often, wearing outrageously flamboyant costumes. It was very relaxing; just sitting there in the sun, having some casual chit-chat. Cristian's grandmother kindly offered me some food: mangu with salami. She also shrewdly observed that I am a fan of eggs and added two to my plate; as you can imagine, I was delighted!!

On Wednesday, Victor took me out with two of his architect friends. We went to a sort of nightclub, but quite early and had a good time dancing. Then we headed to a Mexican restaurant for some tacos, although the menu offered other wonderfully-named options, such as quesadillas, fueltas, taquizas and fajitas. The order of the night was a little topsy-turvy, but it was nice to experience something a little more up-market. 

Last night, Victor treated me to dinner again, this time at a tropical restaurant. We sat on a terrace, surrounded by waterfalls and palm trees, only feet away from a dual carriageway. We had another local dish, mofongo, which was some sort of mashed potato with spices, nuts and pork. It was surprisingly delicious. I learned that Victor is half Russian, so we had a short conversation in Russian. I found myself trying to use words from three different languages at the same time, which became very confusing, so we reverted to Spanish.

This week also saw the reinstatement of marmite into my life, which has been most welcome. Also, everytime I go to a hot country, I burn, simple as. And it always seems to be in a different place. I now have peeling feet, which is an odd and new sensation for me. Oh well, I am helpless to avoid the sun's wrath! I may as well get used to it!!

Monday 28 February 2011

The Visiting Marrows

So this week, the family came to visit me. It was great to have a break from work and finally spend some time at the beach. I met them at the airport on Saturday. It felt very strange to be speaking English again and they commented that my accent was a little wierd. 

We stayed in an all-inclusive beach hotel, which basically meant lots of sun, sea and sustenance. Having eggs every day was a luxury that I had almost forgotten about.. The girls enjoyed sunbathing a lot and I suppose one of the biggest jokes of the week was how pale I am, considering I have been in the Caribbean for over a month. I just tell them that I still have 6 months of sun to look forward to: slow and steady wins the race!

My siblings also took pleasure in blaming me for any moment of cloud cover, any lost tanning time, despite it being thanks to me that they were here in the first place. Other highlights were my parents' failure to grasp the necessary Spanish words: 'vino tinto' (red wine). Our last evening was pretty funny too. Mum went out of her way to be an embarrassment, somehow reaching new levels of peculiarity. She insisted on befriending the waiters and having photos with them. Ben actually disappeared for a few minutes, returning in a disguise of hat and suglasses!  

It was a very lazy week. We didn't really do much. A trip to the nearby 'Boca Chica' beach on Wednesday was our first excursion. Every 30 seconds we would be pestered by people selling jewellery, hats, pictures music and more. On Thursday, we took a catamaran to an island, Isla Sanoa, off the South East Coast. The white sand and turquoise sea was very refreshing, not to mention the beach barbecue. On the way back to the mainland we took an exhilarating speedboat ride with a brief stop off at one of the island's many natural swimming pools. The drivers raced each other, an example of the relaxed attitude towards safety. As we had spent the day getting burnt, we agreed that the speedy trip back to the mainland was helpful. 

On our final day we briefly had a look around the Zona Colonial in the city to please mum, and a look around the shopping centre to please the girls. Our taxi driver took us along the casino strip and it was nice for me to see other bits of the city, as I have generally been based in one area. It was a really relaxing week, but now it's back to work!!

Saturday 19 February 2011

A Small Taste of Heaven

Let us begin with a most fabulous tale. The protagonists are myself and the wonderful 'cheese and ham croquetas'. Our heroes met on a thunderous Wednesday evening: it really was love at first bite... Melted cheese wrapped in succulent ham, enclosed in a wrapper of breadcrumbs and drizzled with sauce; let's hope that this is the beginning of a long and successful love affair.

Describing the evening as thunderous is an outrageous understatment. For about 2 hours, the hardest rain I have ever seen exploded from the sky. 5 seconds was enough to be drenched. It was painful rainfall. When Cristian and I finally left my hotel and headed to his house, we had the aftermath to contend with. The size of puddles and flooding was such that we had to change our route at least 4 times. The pavement was often blocked, meaning we had to risk it on the roads; the bridge we needed was impassable and a detour was necessary, involving a treacherous crossing over a newly formed river, with only the metal bars of a gate to aid us. We even had to use the underside of a metal stairway to cross into Cristian's road. It was a quest of epic proportions and the reward was similarly magnificent: more croquetas! I couldn't have been happier... There was another food called 'mapue', which on another day might have loved, but it just couldn't compete with the croquetas...

I had spent vast periods of the weekend either drunk or dehydrated. On Saturday, Cristian made a cocktail-type drink, using rum (of course), strawberry powder, and two tins of baby food! I can only assume that this reduces the alcohol percentage because it didn't change the flavour. Once past midnight, it was Abi's birthday and I managed to persuade the group we were with to all sing for her. The video is very funny because I have no idea what the words are and am therefore hopelessly attempting to mime wherever I can.

The following evening, I went out with Cristian's neighbour, Jan Carlos, and some of his friends. We went to a sort of street disco: loads of people and loud music, spilling all over the road. February is carnival month here and every Sunday there are celebrations. Several people appeared wearing incredibly feathery and colourful costumes, purely intent on dancing. After some beer, we moved onto some... That's right, you guessed it: RUM! As you can imagine, work on Monday was not ideal...

I'm very excited because the family are coming to visit and I'm staying with them for the week. Last night, Cristian insisted that we make some cocktails for them. So, they will be trying the rum, strawberry and baby food concoction, as well as a raspberry milkshake and sambuca tasting liquor. I hope they like it!

Saturday 12 February 2011

Dancing and Dominoes

Dominican life is very different to ours. The people are nicer, the weather is better, everything is more laid back. They also like dancing. Everyone, it seems, likes to have a good old dance. So it was only a matter of time before I had to join in. Last Saturday, Cristian and I went to an 18th. It was just a gathering of about 15 people for a girl's birthday. They didn't seem to mind at all that we were intruding. After a few glasses of rum, which they love out here, it was decided that I should dance. I was taught two dances: the 'Bachata' and the 'Merengue'. I thought it went pretty well, but everyone was laughing, so perhaps it didn't. Throughout the course of the evening, I was addressed as 'Europa', which joins my nicknames of 'el rubio' and 'el americano?' that other people call me. Views on children are another example of how different life is here. I'm told that by the age of 30, women stop having children because they're too old. At first I was alittle surprised by people asking me how many childrne I have, but now i"m just used to it. We also bumped into a man who told us that his uncle had 27 children with four different wives and they all lived nextdoor to each other. It's pretty crazy.

I've had some more interesting food this week. On Monday night, I was served 'spaghetti blanco'. It tasted just like spaghetti carbonara to me and was great. And just yesterday, I had octopus for lunch. I can't say it was the nicest thing I've ever tasted, but it went down reasonably well; just a little bit too chewy..

After work on Thursday we visited a local 'colmado', which is essentially an off license with chairs outside. Men gather at these colmados to play dominoes. When i was told that we were going to play dominoes, it seemed pretty trivial to me. However, they play with such intensity that it was actually very interesting. I just had a problem with the scoring. At random points in the game, all four players would throw their remaining pieces onto the board, one would celebrate, and this, apparently, is how you win.

I already mentioned the public transport: the conchos. I do enjoy travelling in them, but twice this week I have been on the front seat and a woman decides to share the seat. This is quite normal, you have to squeeze, but it does annoy me when the whole backseat of the car is free. From now on, I will sit in the back!

And finally, last night I had a proper haircut. It is now very short and doesn't look too bad. Everyone here has very short hair, so I just thought it would help me to fit in. I shall try and put some photos up next week!

Saturday 5 February 2011

A Taste of Culture

I've had another great week. I've really been getting stuck into the Dominican culture with Cristian. He is such a legend. He's very happy to just hang out with me and help my Spanish and he's always looking for new things to teach me. On Tuesday I had some local food. We had 'kípe', which is sort of a sausage in breadcrumbs and was really tasty. Next I tried an 'empanada', which is similar to a Cornish pasty except it only has ham or cheese inside it. We went back to his room where he made me a 'batida' with a papaya fruit. This is basically a milkshake just, mad with ice and extra sugar. He's very keen for me to experience everything I can.

On Friday, he decided to make a cocktail for me. He used a 'sweet whisky' called Gitano Claro and a strawberry powder. I have to say that it was actually quite nice, the strawberry flavour numbing the strength of the alcohol. We also had a burger/hotdog which was just legendary. It had loads of onions in it as well, which as many people know are one of my current favourite pizza toppings. They work just as well in a burger.. 

Everyone asks me a lot of questions about my life, because it is totally different out here, so I thought I should pass on some of our culture. I've been teaching Cristian and his girlfriend about awkward situations. So far I've only taught them 'incómodo tortuga' (awkward turtle) and awkward balloon, but I'm sure we can move onto the whale eventually... 

I've also had a haircut, because everyone has very short hair here so I thought I should try it out. Unfortunately, there was a little misundertanding and it jut got trimmed instead of shaved. It was a bad job. My experiences at hairdressers always seem to produce poor results.. I've got to say, it looks pretty stupid. Cristian has practically no hair and yet he combs it, which amuses me. I wouldn't have thought that was necessary!

Another piece of good news is that I'm getting paid for working, on top of them paying for my accommodation. They're paying me 5000 pesos per fortnight, which is equivalent to about 96p an hour. It may not seem like much, but everything is a lot cheaper over here and I only really need to buy food.

One more thing: I found an article about Dominican slang which I thought perfectly sums up how I'm finding things and why communication is still an issue. Here's the link: http://dr1.com/articles/slang.shtml Check it out!

Saturday 29 January 2011

Guetta

Oh. My. God. Incredible. Just incredible. Victor picked me up from my hotel at 9 30. We queued for about half an hour and weren't in until about 10 30. The warm up DJ played for quite a while and I was thinking how soon is now? I wanna see some guetta! At 1 45 he came on, 10000 people cheering and screaming. A lone figure on a collosal stage with awesome lighting displays- it was one of the most epic things I've ever seen... He played the classics and some new stuff, including one he wrote on the plane on the way over. All his changes were so seamless, everything just worked! It was hard getting over just how good he was. Everyone was really getting into it; one love uniting us. When Guetta is playing I just wanna go crazy, and when love takes over, this club can't handle me on the dancefloor.. It was actually a go-karting track which I absolutely loved! At 4 we headed back, savouring the memories of an incredible night.. (excuse the puns)    

It was then that i discovered that we work on saturdays here. It meant i got 3 hours sleep which was perfect. It would have been more, but Victor insisted we stop for food at 4 30. Apparently, it's the done thing over here... We were talking about music and it turns out he's a big fan of Maroon 5 and Jamiroquai, as well as David Guetta obviously. He then told me  about the big music names over here. Salsa is the most popular music; in fact the way people are hinting, I'm going to have to learn some dance moves... They also have 'reggaeton' which is a sort of dance pop reggae thing and something called 'bachata'.  

The other day, Cristian introduced me to his neighbour. The area he lives in is a massive network of alleyways crammed full with as many houses as possible. There were about 10 people in the living room, so we went and sat on the front porch with his friend Sindy. We seemed to be in the middle of a thoroughfare; loads of people walked past and both of my hosts seemed to know everyone! "Oh look, there's Herman from work", or "that's Mario- he's gay." Half the people popped into the house as well and I was starting to wonder just how many people lived there!

The good news is that my Spanish is really improving. People have commented on how they can actually have conversations with me now. The guys at work are asking questions about life in England now, mostly about how much everything costs and how attractive the girls are. To be honest, I don't think they're interested in anything else..

Wednesday 26 January 2011

Early Impressions

I feel like I'm starting to get a feel for the Caribbean life. I haven't yet been to the beach, but other than that, I'm living the life. Everything is so relaxed here- the pace of life is much slower. I was never really told what i would be doing and I don't think people here even had much idea. The company is privately owned and is the biggest supplier of parts to cars made by Volkswagen, Seat, Audi, Bentley and Ssangyong in the Dominican Republic. My job entails finding the specific part required by the mechanic in the enormous stock room, according to the code on the order form. It's quite easy and very chilled, so it gives me a chance to chat to all the guys and practice the español... 

I had a pretty quiet weekend, just trying to get my bearings and settle in. My hotel is pretty good. I have a nice bed, good air conditioning, shower, fridge and tv. I've been keeping up with the tennis. Last night, my work buddy Cristian took me out. My hotel room seemed like a palace compared to his tiny living space. We went to see a Dominican film called 'Lotoman' about two brothers who win the lottery. It was a comedy, but the laughter coming from that audience was ridiculous. The main character had only to open his mouth and then guy next to me would be wetting himself. I think everyone is just more cheerful over here.

Getting about also meant that I had my first taste of Dominican public transport. We first went in a bus. They don't really have bus stops here; basically the conductor just shouts at people on the side of the road to see if they want a lift. Next we went in a 'concho'. This is a taxi that functions as a bus. As you can imagine, it was a bit of a squeeze... I was disappointed and impressed to note that a battered old taxi with 8 people in still had better acceleration than my skoda! I had experienced crazy driving before in China; luckily this wasn't as reckless, but it was still pretty intense. I would classify it as measured crazy. Here the drivers are very alert and wary, although they do make some outrageous manouvers. In China, I never felt safe.

I've also tried some Dominican produce. I had some 'Presidente' yesterday, the local beer, which was pretty nice and is served in litre bottles. And for lunch I was eating what I thought was potato and Cristian told me it was basically a mix of mashed bananas and butter, called 'mangú'. I still don't understand how it tastes of potato... I also had some 'pig lasagne', or at least that's how it was eloquently described to me.

I'm told we're going out again tomorrow and Saturday so things are starting to get busy!

Wednesday 19 January 2011

Arrival!

So I've finally arrived, 25 hours late, but I'm here! I was met at the airport by my to be boss, after a very uncomfortable flight. He was very welcoming and I was taken straight to my hotel for the night. My room has TWO double beds in it and there is a rooftop pool and jacuzzi. Unfortunately, as I understand it, I'm here for just the one night. Señor Frias told me that I don't need to worry about any visas or anything- apparently Dominicans seem to care about very little and lead relaxed lives. Indeed, everyone was talking on the plane as if they all knew each other and laughing and cheering when the plane landed and, rather awkwardly, there was an airport proposal waiting for one lucky woman as we came out of customs. It is very warm and wonderful here, but I've got to be up at about 8 for my first day at work... Exciting!

Monday 17 January 2011

False Start

So, the trip didn't get off to the best start... My flight from Gatwick to Madrid was delayed because of fog, which meant that I couldn't catch the connecting flight to Santo Domingo. Hopefully it will be second time lucky...

Thursday 13 January 2011

Countdown to Departure...

Great News!! My US Visa arrived today, so i can actually go! I leave in 4 days now and i'm almost ready. Haven't really started packing yet, but i've got most of my stuff that i will need. First stop is the Dominican Republic, which is very exciting. Can't wait!!