Paddy in the Big Apple @ #BoDzBeeTzZ!

Toilet Etiquette

When visiting Argentina, you will notice a distinct lack of public toilets. When you do find a public toilet, there's a good chance it won't have toilet paper. There may well be a toilet attendant who will dish out a few sheets (usually way too few!) in exchange for a coin, so I always recommend to people traveling to keep a roll in their bag for emergencies. It's also advisable to have coins in case you don't have your bag with you. If you don't leave a coin for the attendant you might be verbally abused and if looks could kill you would surely be dead! Above all, be sure to follow the toilet etiquette below!

Photo: Toilet Etiquette

Government in Argentina extends LENT

In a drastic measure aimed at tackling the widespread food shortages in Argentina, the government here has extended the religious period of Lent. The Lenten period of 40 days of fasting and prayer officially ended last Sunday. The new president Cristina has been under increasing pressure (including street protests in the capital) to address the food shortages of meat, poultry, eggs, vegetables and cooking oil brought on by the farmers strike. The extension of the Lenten period is also to prohibit alcohol and is effective immediately and will continue until further notice. The population here is over 90 percent Catholic.

"It's just not F#$%in' fair!" said an Irishman who preferred to remain anonymous. "I've just spent 40 days without caviar and Cristal champagne and now I'm expected to give up me beer! - Me big fat arse I will! - I'm probably going to convert to Judaism! - I was always jealous they had to go confession only once a year anyway, but this is enough to make me swap sides, although I'm not sure about the whole circumcision thing at my age!"

A spokesman for the Vatican said "We were thinking of extending Lent ourselves, since it's been getting easier over the passage of time, so we'll be monitoring the situation as a sort of trial run for the rest of the world."

What do you think? Have your say and comment below.

Photo: New Argentinian Diet

The Weekly News in Brief

Photos: Mothers of the Disappeared

As yet another thunder storm with lightning roars and heavy rain beats against the window, I will give you the news in brief from Argentina from this last week.

New Visas
Ireland and Argentina have agreed to a work exchange program whereby 100 people of both countries can get visas to work in the respective countries. More details here. Good initiative but why only 100 slots available? Argentina's population is 8 times that of Ireland.

Farmers Protest
Before the thunderstorm hit tonight, I was awoken from an late evening siesta (sleeping is fashionable here don't ya know!) by the sound of pots and pans being hammered by spoons and whatnot (a throw back to the protests after the crash in 2001). The farmers strike (due to excessive tariffs / taxes on agricultural produce) made its way to the capital with major protests in the centre of the city, outside the new president Cristina's abode and beyond. As a result of the blockades, there are food shortages including meat, veg, eggs etc in the shops here as supplies are blocked by the protests. I just went to the supermarket and the meat section which is 2 aisles wide was EMPTY!!!!!!!!! If my steak fix is cut off, I may well go postal or worse cannibal! I'll be down on the street myself with my pot & pan!
The government so far is not interested in negotiation. The rural people who voted for the new president Cristina are being ignored. This has the potential to become very ugly indeed. More details here

The Disappeared
This week was 32 years since the beginning of the military dictatorship which led to 30,000 people 'disappearing' and approx 200 babies being kidnapped and appropriated to military couples. There are still protests every week by the mothers of the disappeared in the centre of the city. Only now are some of those responsible being brought to justice. The majority were given immunity under previous government administrations. Many of the biggest houses in the richest neighbourhoods belong to military personnel from the dictatorship. More Details here.

Expensive Cities
In slightly more positive news, Argentina was named 2nd cheapest city to visit for tourists. Oslo, London, Copenhagen and Dublin were the four most expensive in Europe. (I lived in three of these cities so no wonder I'm hiding down here for a while!) More details here

LOST!

If you're not a fan of 'LOST' then you will be LOST reading this post. I got hooked on the hit TV show 'LOST' before I arrived to Argentina but unfortunately even though they show it over here, I have missed every episode of the new season 4, because I keep forgetting to set the VCR to record it. Truth be told, I'm not even sure I know how to program this VCR since I thought that piece of technology was dead with the advent of easy to use TIVO-ish PVR's and DVD recorders etc, but had to revert to a second hand VCR, since my fancy digital tv PVR is not compatible over here.
My sister-in-law gave me a catchup DVD with the first six episodes of season 4 last night and although bleary eyed, I watched five of them (well 4.75 really as I fell asleep on the sofa). I watched the remaining 1.25 episodes today and I have to say, although still a big fan, I am completely 'LOST'!
Season 1 to 3 kept doing flashbacks to the past lives of the survivors. Season 4 is zipping to the future lives of 6 survivors who managed to escape 'The Island' and although I'm still interested, I fear they will run out of plausible interesting viewing material soon. I miss The Soprano s too! Does anybody know what's happening on Eastenders? What's your theory on 'LOST'? - Explain all, enlighten me in a comment below!

Part Time President of Argentina

There's been quite a stir in the local media recently about the new Argentinian president Cristina Kirchner's lack of time on the job. She swans into the office at lunchtime and apparently jets off to private social functions by 5pm.

I find the latter hard to believe as I have yet to go to a social function here that started earlier then 10pm. I reckon she must be going home for a badly needed siesta as the country is renknowned for it's late night culture with dinner starting at 11pm, bars empty until midnight and clubs only getting going at 2am.

(Warning - now going off on a tangent as I usually do!)
I first visited this city on a Tuesday night ten years ago. My brother and I, and a very short stocky Aussie lad who went by the name of 'Stretch' (apparently nicknamed by his friends after the kids toy Stretch Armstrong)

headed out to discover the infamous Argetinian nightlife at 8pm only to be severely disappointed. 9pm, 10pm, 11pm, 12am came and went and barely a sinner was to be seen in the bars. We eventually mustered up our collective awful Spanish ("errr....emmmm...uh...un bar con chicas, err....muchas chicas?") and were directed to a not so nearby bar called 'JOBS' with three floors of pool tables and wait for it.....archery! (not your typical safe sport where alcohol is involved but this is gaucho country!). We got there at 1am and it was wall to wall packed and yes thankfully there 'muchas chicas'. I'm not going to go even more off track so you'll have to click on this link to find out who I met that fateful night (albeit one word i.e. I met the ?) as I don't like to repeat myself (..and now back on track to Cristina - she can't be going to social events at 5pm - proof above!

But she does seem to be living the life of Reilly and has also been accused of receiving sponsorship (US$800,000 in a briefcase) for her pre election political campaigning from Hugo Chavez, that was intercepted by Argentinian customs. Relations with the US are at an all time low as Condaleezza Rice

just snubbed her on her South American visit aparently because of her leftist alliances (not that I blame Cristina for distancing herself from the Bush administration!). In contrast, her husband Nestor, the previous president, immediately visited 'significant' heads of state around the world (including Bush) after being elected but our Cristina has been more concerned with wining and dining influential people like Naomi Campbell and Antonio Banderas among others?!! More details here. At the moment she's better known for her supposed sense of fashion than her political astuteness.

A Picture Says a Thousand Words!

......so three pictures must say three thousands words!
My longest blog post ever!

Thank God Paddy's Day is just once a year!

Hangover cures listed here

Irish Leprechaun Invades Argentina and Terrorises Locals

Photo: Beware Little People!

Video: Footage from a mobile phone

Update Oct 20th, 2008 - More footage of the Argentinian gnome

Tags: Irish Leprechaun Invades Argentina and Terrorises Locals, gnome

(As reported by several newspapers

Punta Del Este - TITS 'n' ALL !

Photo: Fashionable TITS!

ok - almost finished rubbin' yer nose in my latest travels, but we did a quick side trip to Cabo Polonio which has no road as such and can only be reached by 4 x 4 vehicles where you are loaded into the back of a large 4 x 4 truck like cattle and transported across a sand obstacle course (not for the faint hearted!). It's basic, remote and it was raining yet again so we bailed and headed for the blitz and glitz of Punta Del Este for a few days.

This small beach city is famous for being the playground of the rich and famous a la Cannes in France. It was noticeably expensive with designer shops, fancy restaurants and people trying way too hard to look important. I seriously wanted to slap them hard and remind them they were just as unimportant as me, but I resisted the temptation as most of them were working out at the gym and would likely have kicked my wee Irish arse and that included the women.

Much as I loathe pretentious people, I don't care too much for the baking hot sun either, as I tend to go pink, then red, then peel and then if I'm lucky, I finally get some colour, so I hid under a parasol on the beach most of the time with my beer cooler until the sun eased off a bit. Finally we headed to Montevideo for one night. It has a Spanish feel to the city with an 'old city' section full of bars and restaurants in narow streets. After a good night out and a day at the yaught club (sounds posh but it isn't really) we got the 3 hour Buquebus ferry back to Buenos Aires.

I found a rather interesting shop while taking a wee stroll in Montevideo - (photo above) - Ten out of ten for whoever came up with the marketing idea for the name of this chain of stores - I asked if I could get an empty branded plastic bag as a keepsake but they having none of tit!

Quite a catchy name don't ya think? - Know a better one? - let me know!

I'm in Uruguay ( Where are you?)

Map: The road much travelled (click to enlarge)

After the Carnival washout we headed east to Uruguay for a weeks exploration of the beaches. The border crossing is a bit of a roll of the dice these days, as the local Argentines are blocking several bridges at different times, in protest at potential pollution from two paper mills that have been built just over the border in Uruguay. It's causing a major rift between the countries and there is no end in sight to the protests. Since the bridge at Gualeguaychu was blocked, our route took us first north to Colón then across the border to Paysandú, then south to Montevideo and finally north east as far as the small isolated beach town of Punta Diablo before backtracking to Cabo Polonio, Punta del Este, Montevideo and finally ferry back to Buenos Aires.

For those in colder climes and busier times, I'm not trying to rub it in...but...ah shite!..I am trying to rub it in, tough titties! We spent 2 majestic days in a private cabin by the beach (see photos) in Punta del Diablo, just sitting on the porch and listening to the waves crashing against the shore and catching some great sunsets/sunrises. It cost the small fortune of US$50 dollars a night for our paradise on the beach. This small town is described as the anti-Punta del Este as it's very basic and non pretentious. The only downside were the mozzies who were feasting on me like they'd never tasted an Irishman before. By the end of the 2 days, I looked like I had a serious case of the measles.

Photo: Our Abode

Photo: Beach Bum

Photo: Sunrise from the porch (Yes surprisingly, I was up at that hour!)

Boo-A-Hoo!

Saturday was to be the last big night for Carnival 2008 in Gualeguaychu. Every Saturday for 2 months, the place goes crazy with a parade of scantily clad dancers in traditional carnival costume, watched by thousands of people, partying till the wee hours. The festival basically involves women wearing no more than 30 sq. cm of glittery transparent material, gyrating their hips in a provocative manner, to the deafening sound of carnival music being blasted from a massive truck full of speakers, while throngs of onlookers watch,drool and drink on the sidelines. All good clean fun, to be sure, to be sure!

The town, situated on a river was fairly small and despite the frequent rain showers, there was a good buzz around the place in anticipation of a long fun night ahead. There was a big beach party to get things warmed up beforehand which was completely packed with young ladies being ogled and cheered at by older men. I only ogled, no cheering, honest! Half an hour before the official kickoff (10.30pm) of the main event we got the news the party was postponed for a day due to rain. Despite this setback, it was a fun night and a short visit to the casino brought some respite and a small profit. The following day brought more rain and more bad news. The last day of Carnival 2008 was officially canceled due to wet weather! Sob sob, boo hoo!
It was a tad disappointing but an enjoyable experience nevertheless.

Gualeguaychu Carnival, Argentina

Photo: Carnival Fun

Tomorrow, I'm off to the last day of carnival in these there parts in Gualeguaychu Carnival, Argentina with the missus and some friends. I went to carnival in Trinidad & Tobago a few years ago and it was an absolute blast. It was a 'lads only trip' and we got kitted out with costumes and took part in the parade. Before you ask, NO, you can't see photos (one is above & no I'm not in it). The missus just went to the carnival in Bahia, Brazil 2008 (chick only trip!), which is supposed to be better than Rio according to carnival veterans. I won't be able to read, comment on blogs for a wee while but hope to post the occasional mobile phone post to the blog so keep watching and I'll catch you on the other side.

When it Rains it Pours!

The forecast for today was "Light Thunderstorms containing Rain". It hasn't rained much in Buenos Aires since I got here and that's a good thing as far as I'm concerned. It did snow for first time in 90 years the week before I arrived but its been dry and sunny since (I know, it's tough out here! ;-))

The forecast is usually fairly accurate here and sure enough, I awoke around 4am with the sound of thunder followed by rain. I got out of bed and closed the windows to stop the splashes getting in. I went back to sleep amidst the sound of raindrops beating against window. I woke up at 8am with a now familiar sound of more raindrops beating against window, only heavier, stronger and faster. By 10am, the rain was falling with such force, it was like a giant power hose from the heavens. This continued for several hours, but then, as it always does the sun came out.

Photos: Light Thunderstorms with Rain

In the aftermath, roads were flooded, trees were blown over and more than 500 people had to be evacuated from the worst affected areas in the city. I spent the afternoon searching the internet for an inflatable dingy as I want to be totally prepared for when the "Heavy Thunderstorms containing Rain" arrive!

Barking Mad (Take Two)

Photo: K9 Boca Juniors Supporter

Update: Despite the serious effort invloved, recording the dogs on my phone , the damn thing wouldn't play on the blog. That is hopefully now fixed (blue play button below) and I've softened up my tone for the poor dogs in question as it wasn't totally P.C. (except for 'Brucey' - you I still hate with a vengeance!)

I've mentioned dog themes in previous posts (e.g. post A and post B )

I remember as a kid, our next door neighbour had this Jack Russell/Pitbull mongrel called Bruce (we called it Brucey after the tv host of the 'Generation Game' as like him it liked to talk(bark) a lot). Brucey liked to bark at the birds. He would chase them if they landed anywhere near the garden and even if they were perched 3 metres above in a tree, he would bark and bark until he got hoarse or the poor birds got fed up listening to the annoying little mut bastard and flew away. I'm not a big fan of birds either, as they can be annoying too, what with their tweet-tweet-tweetin' at 6 o' clock in the morning when you're trying to get some shut eye, but rest assured we'll fight that battle another day.

This barking would go on and on and on, and I often resorted to screaming obscenities at the little blighter to try and shut him up (especially at 8am on a Saturday if I was nursing a sore head). He seemed to respond to the 'F' word better than any other vocab I tried, so I used that quite a bit. So much so in fact , the dogs owner heard the torrent of abuse one morning and complained to my parents at the severity and vulgarity of the abuse. Fortunately for me, she put the blame on my older brother, as she must have figured, a young wee angel like myself, wouldn't be capable of whispering the swear words being used, never mind beltin' them at the top o' me lungs out the bedroom window.

My parents weren't too sympathetic to the owner either as they were fed up listening to the woof-woof-woof racket and being lumbered with keeping an eye out for the dog when the owner went away. If only Barbara 'Walkies' Woodhouse could have come to visit, the situation could've been defused. Alas, like Barbara, poor 'Brucey' passed on to dog HELL many years ago, but has been replaced with different reincarnations since although none as bad or loud as the original.

So what brought on this trip down memory lane?.. you may well ask. Well, our neighbours here in Buenos Aires, in the apartment block opposite, recently got some young dogs (about 3 by the sound of the racket). The poor dogs are locked up all day and as soon as the owners go to work, an impromtu concert of 'Hounds of the Baskervilles' ensues. Here's a wee snippet of what I now wake up to in the morning, and repeats as required during the day, eve and night! (recorded with my mobile phone).

Wait for the blue play button appear and then click to hear the free 3 dog tenors concerto, I listen to everyday!

.

If perchance, my blog goes quiet and you hear of an Irishman being arrested in Buenos Aires for screaming profanities at animals, I've probably been hauled away by the R.S.P.C.A. (again!). Rest assured I'm not an animal hater as when the owners come home, I will be be screaming at them with equal, in fact more abuse for abandoning the wee critters for hours on end
!

There must be something in the water!

A 16-year-old Argentine girl has given birth to female triplets - for the second time.

Courtesy of Raiméis

7 Kids and she's 17 today!

There's been quite a backlash from the Argentines here where poverty is widespread. She got a freebie house and land after her 1st set of triplets and will now need more support and probably a bigger house. The father of the first set of kids did a runner.
There's not much sign of Daddy for the second set either.

Jaezuz H. C. !!!!

Speechless!

Stranded in the Desert

My siblings and I, have a bit of a reputation for travel jinx's and mishaps. We're a well traveled bunch, but somehow a dark cloud seems to follow us around as soon as we set foot near an airport.

This latest chapter is very bizarre indeed. My brother had recently gone to Saudi Arabia for a contracting work assignment and involuntary detox. I mean, why pay for the Betty Ford clinic when YOU can get paid wads and detox at the same time. His work agency arranged for a 6 month multiple entry work visa. Having spent just over a month working there, he was planning to travel back to Europe for 2 weeks and then return to work in Saudi.

He checked in for his flight and proceeded to immigration control where he was informed he'd over stayed his visa by 3 days - huh? Turns out that even though it is a 6 month multiple entry work visa - you must leave the country every 30 days.

Now here's the clanger. The visa is immediately revoked and he is told he CAN'T leave the country until everything has been sorted out. (whatever that means?) Apparently, he needs a letter from his visa sponsor humbly apologising AND he has to pay a fine. Fair enough that shouldn't take long right? WRONG! This was last Thursday and the Saudi weekend is Thursday-Friday (not Sat-Sun) and everything is closed and/or people are uncontactable. He's free to go back into the country, but needs the paperwork sorted before he can leave. He's now been stuck there for a week but hopefully close to getting out. If and when he does get out, he's unlikely to be let back in.

Ah.... but stuff like this wouldn't happen in the "civilized" world or would it? Well actually, yes it would. Attached is a recent news article detailing an Icelandic tourist who was detained at JFK in New York and was shackled hand and feet and interrogated for two days without being allowed to contact anyone. I understand the need for extra vigilance on our borders these days, but where do we draw the line between vigilance and abuse? ...and who's policing the police?

24 Hour Delivery

Photo: Beer 24/7

I was out for a walk the other day. I love walking. It's therapeutic or soothing or something like that and it's good for you! I pick an area of the city I haven't been to and try and navigate there on foot. Sometimes I get there and sometimes I don't, but I enjoy the exercise. I hate most forms of conventional exercise. The gym, swimming, jogging, pilates (whatever the hell that is?), they are ALL so bleedin' BORING! Walking is cool and everybody does it so it must be really cool. So there I was, walking the other day and I passed this kiosko, which is like an off-licence / mini-mart shop thingy and look what I found......and this in the middle of Lent as well. Jaezuz, what a bunch o' heathens. Who in their right mind would need an alcohol delivery service available 24 hours. It's a moral outrage I tell you....tsk tsk tsk.

Talking Shite

Just a heads up, this is not so much of a tongue in cheek humourous post, but something I've been chewing on for a week now and just needs to be said.

Most people have heard of the Great Irish Famine (1845-1849). I'm not sure what was so 'Great 'about it mind you, but it was the catalyst for many Irish to emigrate from the 'ol' sod', and that trend continued until the Celtic Tiger and perhaps it's the reason I've been wandering the four corners of the earth these past twenty years.

What many don't know, including most of the Irish themselves, is how many Irish continued to emigrate after the famine to Argentina. My uncle Paddy gave me a heads up on this trivia before he passed last year, but as with most of my education, it went in one ear out the other - could I have A.D.D?......huh? .... where was I?......ah yes.....I was doing a bit o' websurfin' the other day and came across the following excellent site http://www.irlandeses.org/dresden.htm which details immigration of Irish into Argentina and I'd encourage you read it at your leisure, as it's a bit of an eye opener into Irish to Irish hospitality or more accurately 'Kick 'em when their down'.

The interesting fact is the percentage of County Westmeath people who ended up here - 49% out of a survey of 70,000. Sorry Da, I know, two blog posts in a row (full text of above website on its way via Ian), but heads up to me Ma and the County Mayo contingent you's are next! Warning - Warning - Danger - Danger!

The Argentine government was aggressively encouraging foreigners from all over Europe to come and settle here in the 1880's. To promote this, they used various means including employing foreign agents to actively recruit prospective immigrants. Unfortunately, for a lot of Irish people involved, some of the Irish agents involved (collecting commission of course) promoting Argentina, were talking a lotta' Blarney, as they promised a land of paradise with houses, fertile farmland, cheap tickets etc as the following poor soul who got swindled and never received his tickets illustrates.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
James Dooner to Timothy Michael Healy, M.P., 14 September 1889 (Kilbeggan, County Westmeath)
The Undersigned, James Dooner, humbly begs to bring under your kind consideration the following facts, trusting you will take the trouble of having me remunerated for the great loss I have sustained.

Firstly, I am a poor dealer, going round with my donkey and wares. I have a wife and eleven children, when I was induced to apply for tickets for passages, in March last, to bring us out to the Argentine Republic. In consequence of these communications, I disposed of my donkey, my little furniture, and, above all, of a large heap of manure - the greatest loss, as I have now no potatoes. Trusting you will see after us, and God may bless you always, I am your very humble, James Dooner
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Many of the folks who did make it Argentina ended up worse off, as there were no free houses, farmland or land of promise waiting and I'm pretty sure poor James Dooner (above) never got his compensation and probably never ended up in Argentina, so for me the 'current day' moral of the story is........Never give anyone shite (especially your personal stock) and steer clear of Ryanair!

Show me the way to Amarillo

Photo: North is East

I had a bit of a shock recently when I realized my whole geographical perception of Buenos Aires has been a bit skewed...well completely arse backwards actually. I had bought a big map of the city when I arrived 6 months ago, which showed the barrios (neighbourhoods) and streets. Unfortunately, I only realized a few days ago, it has North pointing right i.e. North is actually East on the map. Now I ask you, what gobshite, would design a map with North pointing East?

I went for a wander last week to walk off an extra large Chivito, which simply put is a huge Uruguayan steak sandwich and then some. Anyways, because I was using the mental arse backwards map in my head, I got completely lost and four hours later, I was still wandering round like a missionary in Iraq and it was hotter than hell so I was sweating something fierce.

This is nothing new to me however, as I have that extra stubborn County Westmeath gene inherited from me Da (not that I blame him, apparently it's been in the family for generations or possibly since Adam and Eve. They were from Mullingar according to some biblical historians or was that the Devil himself?, I can never remember. Anyway this defective gene prohibits asking directions for fear of being ridiculed, or worse, sent to the fiery depths of hell for sheer ignorance. Poor ol' Adam was fecked outta the garden of Eden for eating a miserable ol' apple and we all know it was that conniving hussy Eve that led him on, so there's no way I'm asking directions in a city I lived for six months.

Now I could have jumped in a taxi or God forbid, actually asked someone the way, but no, no, no, a wandering I a went. I did make it back home eventually, having walked the four corners of the city. It wasn't a trip completely in vain, as I happened upon some beautiful neighbourhoods and far flung places that I otherwise would never have seen, albeit I still haven't a clue where they are now. Shame, I didn't have the camera though. Ah well sure, they say life's an adventure, but I'd prefer an adventure on a wheels next time.

Suckin' Face in Pinamar

Five hours down the coast from Buenos Aires, lies the laid back beach resort of Pinamar. We went for the weekend to see what it had it offer and because this is high summer season, it was busy,busy, busy! We were lucky to be able to stay with friends right on the beach front.

It seems as though, if you're not a teenager, then you probably don't belong here. There are throngs of kids who takeover the beach during the day and then the majority of the nightlife scene is also geared towards the young folk. It's quite normal here for thirteen to sixteen year olds to be out till the wee hours, a.) because it's safe and b.) the kids here for the most part, are not into drinking or other vices although recent news reports suggest that's changing.

It would be difficult to see this being possible back in Europe or USA, with the drug/lager lout mentality of kids today. It's hard not to feel old as you pass the clubs at midnight, with queue's of teenie-boppers round the block. When I was their age, I was lucky if I got to go to a school disco and even then, the nuns and priests (Sister Concepta and Father Feely) would be doing the rounds of the dance floor, making sure bodily contact was kept to an absolute minimum. Kissing was grounds for ex-communication. Here it's a different story. They're suckin' face at any given opportunity, street corners, parks, bars (is nowhere sacred?!).

Where I'm from, P.D.A's (public displays of affection) are culturally frowned upon and proper order too. The last thing I want to see as I'm walking down the street, is a hoard of prepubescent teenagers playing tonsil hockey. They should be rounded up like stray dogs and locked in bible study for a day. I've always found religion to be a great deterrent, like being grounded only worse. I mean which is scarier?

A.) Stay in your room - ok fine!
B.) Go to Mass! - No, No, anything but that!
That'll teach ya to keep your tongue in YOUR mouth, not hers!

In Pinamar, the ol' foggies like me are relegated to the cafe's for a quite chat and a game of dominoes, as the kids stomp it up at the clubs. Because this is the Atlantic coast, the water is damn cold and its windy a lot of the time, so in conclusion, I'm not a big fan of the place or scene. It's almost 10pm so I'm off to bed to with me cardigan and slippers and a cup o' hot cocoa.

The Love Shack is a little ol' place, where, we can be together

It's quite common here for your kids to live at home with you,until they get married or shack up with someone. So you could be sharing your home with your 31 year old daughter or forty-something year old son if they haven't got lucky. Jaezus, I think I'd go postal. I'm thinking both sides of the equation here. If I'm the kids now, having to share a house 24/7 with your parents, till your 30 to 40 would drive me over the edge. Wasn't it the Menendez twins that 'off'ed' there parents and who could blame them.

Parents Question: "What sort of time do you call 4am to be out on a Friday night?"
Gobshite Answer: ".....eh....errr...... normal?!!"

But now that I'm pushing forty meself, I have to empathise with the ol' 'blue rinse crew'. I mean, all they want is a good nights sleep and a bit o' peace n' quiet and maybe some bingo every now n' again. Not, I repeat, NOT, loud drum n' bass pumping at full pitch in the wee hours and toilet doors slamming at all hours. They say the most difficult years for parents AND kids are the teengage years, so I've already decided, my kids (if my lads are swimmers), are OUT on their ear at 11 years old. If a ten year old Somalian kid can join an army and fire a rocket launcher, surely an 11 year old Paddy/Argie prodigy can shovel shite down the stables and earn a living and contribute to his parents upkeep. Away with ya now to the stables for the night, ya ungrateful wee nipper and don't forget to bring me the newspaper and a six-pack on your way back from confession tomorrow morning, may God have mercy on your soul.

Photo: Love Hotel - pay by the hour

Which brings me to the point of this post. - They have these hotels here called 'Love Hotels' for the couples without their own place, that want a bit of privacy and maybe some 'nookie' tonight. They charge by the hour and are mostly found in quiet streets in suburban neighbourhoods. Just look for the tell-tale trees outside the main exit, which is supposed to give some privacy to those exiting stage left in case mummy or daddy or real spouse is driving by at the wrong time.

El Calafate and Perito Moreno Glacier

Photo: Mount Fitzroy, Los Glaciares National Park, Argentina

It was time to start making my way back to Buenos Aires. I'd arranged for a pickup at the town of Cerro Castillo which was nothing more than 2 cafeterias on the side of the road. As I got dropped off, there was a gale force wind blowing dust everywhere. My onward minibus transport arrived and I was surprised to discover the building beside the cafe was actually the border / customs control for both the Argentinian and Chilean immigration. No sniffer dogs, no bag check, just a quick stamp in the passport and back on the minivan. About an hour and a half later the minivan connected with a larger bus to bring us to El Calafate.

I'd been here a few years earlier and it's most famous attractions are the Perito Moreno Glacier and nearby Mount Fitzroy. The glacier is visually stunning, but because the glacier is slowing advancing, the huge chunks of ice, the size of a ten story building, that break off the glacier about every 30 minutes will leave you gob smacked. Quite a few people have died from being hit by the falling blocks (see warning in photo below) so don't get too close! You can also arrange to trek on the glacier for 2 hours and hopefully you'll be trekking far from the chunks that are breaking off into the ocean.

Photos: Danger! Don't get too close to the falling blocks of ice!

Photo: Perito Moreno Glacier

I spent the night in El Calafate and the next morning I left the cool air and ice behind. I took a 3 hour flight back to Buenos Aires where it was 35 Celcius and 90% humidity.

Torres Del Paine, Chile - Mountains n' Mole Hills

I had serious concerns the ol' tired legs weren't going to hold up for day #5 and had pretty much resigned myself to a lazy day. We got up late and contemplated the strategy for the day. We had a car, so why did I need to drag my out of shape Irish arse up yet another mountain? I was quite content to do the lazy car tour until I spotted a fifty something year old Asian woman with a backpack twice the size of mine, heading up the same trail I was shying away from. I couldn't let it go and thought if she can do it, I can do it. It was another eight to ten hour hike with four to five hours out, then four to five hours back, to see the close up view of the Torres (towers).

Photo: The only was is up!

I set off late morning and was in danger of missing dinner if i didn't make it back in time. This wasn't an option as far as I was concerned so I adopted the previous days tactic of running the downhill stretches and even a few uphill ones. I had no heavy pack to carry today, just water and food, as I'd be finishing at the same refugio. I'm not sure whether it was the fear of not making it back on time for dinner or whether I just wanted to shorten the pain, but I ran like the wind wherever possible. The adrenalin was pumpin' and I was at the Mirador (viewpoint), 90 minutes ahead of schedule.

Photo: Refugio Chileno in the background

Photo: At the viewpoint

Photo: At the viewpoint (continued), now if the clouds would just take a hike!

Photo: On the way back down I discover the easy way up - where were you guys yesterday?

The view wasn't at it's most spectacular due to cloud, but it was nonetheless exhilarating to have gotten there so quickly. I stayed almost an hour, chomping down a sandwich (not Tuna for a change!!) and waiting for the sky to clear, so I could get a good photo. It never did clear however and then in true 'Forrest Gump' style, I ran just for the fun of running and down the mountain I sprinted like a man possessed. I finished, back at base two and a half hours ahead of schedule. I was tired, sore but satisfied having completed the 'W' circuit and I was ready for a beer or two.

Torres Del Paine, Chile - Foot Rot

Photo: Lake view - Almost halfway!

The previous night passed without any notable incidents, except the tent was set up on a slope and apparently I took up most of what little room there was. The rain and wind musn't have been too bad or we'd have been washed or blown away and the cold wasn't that noticeable. As I got ready to exit the tent, I removed my plastic bag socks which unleashed a horrid ammonia stench that would could have been classified as a W.M.D. I decided that any ideas about patenting this insulation idea were fraught with too many complications. We had a long nine hour hike ahead of us so finished breakfast quickly (yep - tuna sandwiches and chocolate again!).

Photo: A picturesque pebble beach

The weather had taken a turn for the better and it was actually quite hot. It was too hot in fact and after charging down the mountain at a fairly fast pace for an out o' shape paddy, my feet felt they were on fire (they probably were after the chemical saturation they'd endured in plastic all night!) . A foot bath in the cold river water was the only way to douse the inferno, but God help the fish or bottle refillers down stream!). In the limited strategy stages of the trip, we'd discussed the possibility of 10 or 12 hour hikes, but let me tell you, 9 hours is more than enough. At the halfway point, it looked as if there was a dried ice machine hidden in my shoes. There was literally steam coming off them, I kid you not. Longer and more frequent foot baths became a requisite. I took to running the downhill stretches to shorten the agony, but this also increased the burn factor and raised more than a few eyebrows amongst my fellow weary hikers.

Photo: The Torres in the background

We reached an interesting point towards the 2/3rds marker as the only way to continue was to wade into and across an icy river, but at least that helped the ol' foot burn problem. After what seemed an eternity, we reached Torres Norte Base where the car awaited with supplies and a real (bunk) bed and hot cooked food and BEER for the night!

Photo: Footbath #5

Photo: Guanaco's (Lama's) by the lake

Photo: ..and I would walk 500 miles and I would ... ach maybe not!

Torres Del Paine, Chile - The Ascent

Photo: The hike begins at Paine Grande at Lake Pehoé

Photo: Wobbly bridge at Camp Italiano

After a hearty breakfast, we set off for the first real days hiking. The forecast was for strong winds and lots of showers and we had about 5 to 6 hours hiking ahead of us. Our plan was to get to Camp Británico in Valle Frances and stay the night in the tent. There was a viewpoint a further hike up from the camp that was supposed to have a good view of the valley with potential for great sunsets / sunrises.

To try and be somewhat prepared, I'd bought rainproof leggings which I donned as we began our trek. Unfortunately, all the leggings seemed to do was collect moisture / sweat and drain it into my shoes and after about two hours of walking in showers and sunshine, there was a discernable squelchy noise as I walked and it wasn't the exactly the most comfortable, but we had to motor on to reach base. We reached Camp Italiano which was sort of the half way point and scoffed down some sandwiches and then began the ascent to our base for the night. It's one thing to haul yer arse uphill, but to add a back pack is a whole different animal. I'm a light traveller or unprepared depending on which way you look at, so I had a relatively small, light pack compared to others. However, by the time I'd reached the summit, I'd made all sorts of empty promises about trying to keep in shape, sometime real soon!

Photo: Pit stop up Valle Frances

Photo: View of Lake Nordenskjold

Photo: Los Cuernos (The Horns)

We finally reached the campsite and it was pretty basic. No toilets, showers or running water. A nearby river was going to have to serve as water supply / bath.
We set up tent and it was fairly obvious the flimsy abode for the night, wasn't going to stand up to much. Only two other tents (professional looking kits) were set up that night on the summit and to detract from the little confidence we had, a German couple were vocally bemused that we were actually planning to brave the elements in this mere wind breaker of a tent. "Are you sure this is waterproof & windproof and big enough for two people + two packs?" they snickered.
"It's the best tent 45 pesos (usd$15) can buy" I snapped back "and we're Celtic warriors, well used to the elements!". I'm not sure they were convinced, mind you, I'm not sure I was convinced either.

About an hour after arriving, the temperature dropped five degrees and the showers started again. My feet a.k.a. 'sweat trophs' started to freeze over. This was clearly not going to be a comfortable night. What would McGyver do ? I thought to myself. And then the brainstorm of plastic bags on the feet kicked in. It worked a charm to keep the damp away from my feet. When the rain cleared again we headed up to the view point but the real motivation for me was just to keep moving. Exercise = Warmth = Comfort! It was a bit too cloudy for a good sunset photo but impressive nevertheless.

Photo: Mirador Frances

Photo: Eerie dead forest

As it started to get dim, we headed back to the camp for dinner a.k.a. tuna sandwiches and chocolate, then retreated to the tent for shelter.

The tent itself was quite a novelty indeed. When you lay flat out, your head protruded into one wall of canvas and your feet stuck out the other side. The fear was if you stretched out, you would pop the pegs holding the tent to the ground. This was either a two midget man tent or it had been swapped for a kiddies play tent. A picture of Kermit the frog on the side wouldn't have been out of place. To make matters worse, a plague of flesh eating flies/mozzies surrounded the tent . The plastic foot warmers were still working a treat. So much so, I decided I would keep them on in the sleeping bag. After a wee dram for medicinal purposes, I faded into a deep sleep.

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