You´ll Never Walk Alone

I have just received these photos from my learned Mighty Red supporters in Buenos Aires. I´m guessing the first is pre-match, the second during penalties and the last 2 a few seconds after Kuyt ruined old Jose´s night. Looks like the photographer was jumpimg around as well from the looks of the last two.

Oh happy days, and yes i´m still grinning from ear to ear.








Like the song says, if you support Liverpool no matter where you are YOU´LL NEVER WALK ALONE.

WALK ON!!

P.S It´s no wonder we won: we had god on the pitch, Buddha on the sidelines and if you look closely the Pope on the wall.

Sao Paulo revisited

As usual i get to the airport way too early. Aerolineas informs me my flight is delayed by an hour but i can try and catch the one leaving in 1/2 an hour. A mad scramble through securty and immigration followed by a sprint to the gate and i´m in the air quaffing a lager. I arrive at Lu´s two hours early and am locked out, she´s still at work. Stroll upto the corner bar, nestle into the corner and order a beer. My Portuguese hasn´t improved and blank looks follow, a bit of pointing and a fair amount of gesticulation later and the said amber nectar is slipping down nicely.

Again i forgot how tasty the fruit is here. The days are spent walking, developing the necessary appetite for gargantuan steaks and local specialities. Monday, i went off in search of an Irish Bar that i´d stumbled across last visit. Liverpool were playing the next day and a certain amount of prepwork was required. Tuesday was spent in said Irish bar in an alchohol fuelled state of fear followed two hours later by elation. Definitely not used to drinking pints but probably useful practise for my return to London next week.

Liverpool 1 Chelsea 0, Liverpool win 4-1 on penalties.

You´ll never walk alone! Not that i was in any fit state to walk - i got a cab.

Japonese Gardens, Tigre and Ice Cream

The last few days whizzed by. Day trip to Tigre, the parks of Palermo (Japanese Gardens et al), and the odd ice-cream. The ice cream here is seriously tasty. Mum didn't quite believe me the first time i pointed out 15 scooters and said they were for ice-cream delivery!

Farewell dinner in Cabaña Las Lilas - the "best steak" in town. A winelist of encyclopaedic proportions and some amazingly tender steak.

Bags packed with new leather shoes, bag, jacket and assorted presents. I delivered her safely in to the arms of United Airlines. Chau J xx

Apparently i'm a good personal shopper, not a bad tour guide and translator, and a bloody useless body-guard.

The Godfather

Our four days were up and we returned to Buenos Aires. Mum said it was nice to be home when we reached the flat. Nice. Surely that implies a sense of well being and comfort? I hope so. The US Masters Golf was just starting, time to get couched.

The next day after a usual coffee, walk, lunch scenario mum decided to go for a stroll. I stayed in for the golf. She returned about an hour later. How was it? Well good up until some git ran up and grabbed her necklace and legged it.

Lessons - never wear jewellery in Bs As, never walk down quiet streets and try not to get unlucky - somethings are unavoidable. A lesson we learnt later is that if you fancy doing a spot of insurance fraud this is as good a place as any.

However, she wasn't hurt, it wasn't an heirloom and it was covered by insurance. Police station here we come. Buenos Aires has one for tourists and thankfully it was only a few blocks away.

Three policeman are lounging about, the head guy is behind a desk. Mum explains what happened: a man mugged her on Diagonal Norte; they start ring police stations. The head honcho informs us that we should say it took place on Maipu. This means we can go to a station 2 blocks away that has no queue. Okay, whatever. There's a TV on in the corner. "The Godfather". Great film i say, the cop's watched it "over 300 times", seems to fit in with his attitude to crime. Try to leave without laughing.

Walk to the other station. No English speaker about so they ring the tourist office and one of the guys we'd seen there ambles over 5 minutes later. He then proceeds to type furiously at the computer for ages. He asks mum 2 questions - her age and passport number. 15 minutes later we have our police report, the crime has moved to Florida street, lots of elaborate details we never mentioned have been added and a bizarre discussion on whether faster or fastest is appropriate for his typing skills - but we have our crime number.

An extra bottle of wine that night, but all in all it could have been a lot worse. The picture is where the robbery happened, or was it Maipu or was it Florida?

Montevideo Day 3 - Mate

The only thing disturbing about Montevideo is Mate. A seriously disgusting herbal drink that everyone loves. Almost everyone is seen carrying a thermos of hot water, a mate cup and straw. They delight in all sharing the same straw, a ceremony known as
: The Ronda de Mates. A very effective way of passing on any lurgy you may have to all your "mates".

I have forgotten to mention the buffet breakfast. Massive. But why do they always make such shit coffee? Never figured that one out. Seems to be true the World over.

We swam, we walked and toured the old town and markets. Man Utd lost to Roma (first leg), the sunset was great, we watched a milonga (free tango lesson)in a local bar and i lost in the casino. Never book into hotels that have a casino in the basement.

Montevideo Day 2 - The Rambla

This coastal road goes on for miles. We managed a few before heat stoke and exhaustion took over, we spied a park and thought we'd walk through that, it turned out to be the posh golf club. Cutting behind it the apartment blocks were cunningly named "Golf Towers", "Fairways", "The Greens" etc. We had a bet mum plumped for The Palms and i went for Golf Heights. 50 metres later and Palmas del Golf it was. I was paying for lunch - ouch.

The backroads in Montevideo are beautiful. Wider than Bs As and tree-lined, a joy to walk around. Local markets, carteneros at work and gorgeous buildings. A wonderful walk. The fish followed and then a swim plus the Mighty Reds giving PSV a good thumping in the first leg. A perfect day.

Mercardo del Puerto

I think i'm going to be sick. Day 1 we did the fish bucket, day 2 death by meat. Thankfully we'd been swimming twice a day and walked at leat 8 miles, otherwise it could've been "wafer thin mint time".

Personally, i blame mother. She was definitely not pulling her weight, sensible maybe but seriously inconsiderate nonetheless.

Montevideo, Plaza Indepencia

I love this building. Reminds me of Flash Gordon, i'm sure Ming the Merciless is getting ready to blast off somewhere in the tower.

2nd of April - Day 1 Montevideo

Time for a mid-holiday getaway. We took a taxi to the airport, mum asked why it was so quiet on the streets, i asked the driver, he said it was the 25th Anniversary of Las Malvinas; he asked us where we were from and that was the end of that. We then talked about footie, i said i was a Boca fan - he was a River fan. I tipped him heavily to avoid a kicking.

We'd booked the Radisson in Montevideo, slap bang in the centre on Plaza Indepencia next to my favourite building. We were given a room on the 22nd floor with stunning views of the old town. Had a swim, the pool is fantastic, and then went for a walk. Although Montevideo is a capital, of at least a million people it is totally different to Bs As. Much more space, a lot less bustle, more greenery, and the Mercardo del Puerto - i still haven't found a better place to eat than this in my life.

The sunset from our room was stunning, the night views from the bar on the top floor also. An early night ensued - tomorrow we had an early start planned, alot of walking was going to be necessary before hitting the Mercardo.

March 26th -1st April - Walk till you drop

The next days were spent ambling over Belgrano, Palermo, Plaza Italia, the Ecological Reserve and the centre, far too much potential for window shopping in the latter. The weather was a bit ropey, but good for walking and when it chucked it down a good excuse for a cinema or museum visit.

The whole point of visiting a place is to try and experience it. You have to walk, sit in cafes and watch the world go by, eat out, eat in - thus utilising the local markets, try the subte, try the bus, the local train - basically try everything. I also learnt a great deal about plants and trees - too much at times :-).

Our days: breakfast, walk, lunch, walk, the odd purchase, buy our dinner and a couple of bottles of wine and retire to the flat to relax, chat, cook and drink.

However, you can't go to Buenos Aires and not go out at night. Friday night, Veronica and Fernando had invited us to their local Italian restaurant. Great place, the owner was suitably OTT and created a great atmosphere. We then adjourned to Plaza Serrano, at around 11.30pm, meeting point for all those on the pull before they head off to a club at 3ish. Loads of open air bars and street stalls that never shut. I'm ashamed to admit it but it wasn't my mother that caved in, by 12.30 i was literally falling asleep. I'm a lightweight and mum's hardcore - c'est la vie.

March 25th - Takes Two to Tango

San Telmo, huge market on Sunday's, tango in the streets, wonderful old colonial buildings and an extremely atmospheric restaurant - El Federal. My plan, walk for miles and hope exhaustion would give me a quiet night. Unfortunately, my mother is far too fit. All she seems to need is a bottle of wine in the evening to refuel.

Again, i'd opted for a tourist area, but it is definitely a tad different to Covent Garden. Gentle introductions are the way forward before risking the carnage of the centre, arriving on the weekend is also a good idea - much calmer (during the day!). She has immediately adapted to the strong coffee and media luna breakfast, followed by a stroll another strong coffee another stroll a long lunch and a gentle amble home.

The flat is amazingly quiet and a perfect place to glug the odd bottle of wine and just generally relax.

Mum arrives - 24th March

My days of lying on the couch, watching football were over. The eagle had landed and i was at the airport waiting. As usual i was way too early so whilst drinking endless coffee my mind wandered back to my first arrival here. Slightly different circumstances, it's definitely better being picked up by your son than wandering around the airport in a blind panic wondering what on earth is going on.

Safely esconced in our taxi, we were whisked through the suburbs to our flat in the centre, all the while mum pointing out things that whilst vastly different i now take for granted - this was definitely going to be fun. The flat got the seal of approval and after a cup of tea, shower and snack it was time for our first excursion.

Recoletta, famous for it's cemetery, antiques market and expensive boutiques this seemed a gentle introduction. A couple of hours ambling and an enormous baguette later mum was overwhelmed, too much input. Strolled back via the veg shops and local offie - all one needs for a light snack and an early night.

Libertad 844 Apt 4c

Finally moved into my apartment on Tuesday, you have to pay in cash and it turns out no banks here will let you buy dollars with a bank card and passport. Why? I don't know, but i assume it has something to do with the financial collapse of 2001. Rang Barclays, they said go to a travelex - there aren't any in South America - useless gits.

Panic set in on Monday when i realised i was not going to be able to get the deposit in time. Cashpoints only give you a 1000 pesos per day (180 quid). So there i was wandering around Bs As pondering on how to get cash. Eureka! Every city has at least one place that will bend over backwards to give you cash - yep casinos. 30 minutes later i'd won a bit on craps, cashed in all the chips i'd bought and was ready for a beer.

The flat is fantastic, right in the centre, a terrace the size of a tennis court, cable TV and air-conditioning. Feels a bit strange "having" an apartment again after so long and it's also very weird leaving the tranquilty of it and stepping out into full on chaos. I think maybe i've been spoilt by Tufnell Park where it took a 10 minute walk to reach Camden Rd before the full horror of the hustle and bustle assaulted you.

Dinner party last night, today i have to wash-up and do my laundry - worrying levels of domesticity are already kicking in.

Hello Beijing

i just thought i'd say a quick hello to whomever it is that reads my blog in Beijing.

Thanks also to those in the States, Sao Paulo, Argentina, Chile, and the UK.

Sorry this machine is unable to dispense money for the foreseable future!

Meltdown. On Wednesday there was an armed robbery, unfourtunatley two security guards were shot and one died. The security guards, unsurprisingly weren't best pleased with this and went on strike over safety issues. This led to all cash machines running out of money very quickly. So now you don't have to worry about someone being able to change your notes because you don't have any! No wonder this economy is going absolutely nowhere in a hurry. A weekend indoors is on the cards. What's more i have to find a load of dollars for Tuesday to pay a flat deposit, this could be interesting seeing as the 20 cash machines i've visited today didn't have any. It's amazing how much for granted we take everyday matters.

Scams

1. It's late, it's dark and you have had a few drinks. You hail a cab and sail swiftly to your destination, the cabbie is friendly and all is well. The bill is 15 you hand him a fifty pesos note, he looks at it gives it back and says it's a fake. You are horrified, apologise and give him a twenty, the same thing happens, you scrabble together and pay with your loose change.

The next day you wake up and realise the only place that money came from was your local supermarket. They are decent people, always checking their notes. You realise the reason the notes were fake was because the cabbie (aka doodgy bastard) had swapped them. A very clever little trick that happened to a bloke called Ian i met over the last 2 days whilst watching Champions League football.

Moral of the story: Never pay cabbies with large notes.

2. This happened to a couple of English retirees. Walking along Puerto Madero (posh area) they passed a nice couple in their forties taking photos. Something landed on them, the couple came over to explain that birds had shat on them and helped wipe them down, whilst removing their wallets taking out only the dollars and then replacing them. The same scam is done in cafes where they spray you with mustard etc.

Moral: Never let anyone into your space.

3. I was touring Santiago with Flower (Enlish woman in her fifties), she was explaining to me how she always got robbed on her last day in a country. Today was her last, i said that i didn't fancy wandering around with a cursed lady. She laughed. I was serious. The problem is that she is a lovely person who trusts people. Whereas i am a dodgy git who trusts no one. We sit down at a cafe she puts her bag next to her on the chair next to passers-by, i point out that that's a bit dodgy she moves it. She then gets something out of her bag and puts it back on the chair. 5 minutes later someone has grabbed it and legged it.

It occurred to me you could have an empty bag, get someone to run off with it, and thus get a free meal at a cafe. Nice scam. See what i mean - i don't trust anyone, she did pay me back for the meal.

Moral: If you want to see your bag again tie it to the chair or put it between your legs. Never carry your passport or credit cards in your bag unless you have to - thankfully Flower was aware of this.

Mind you nothing has ever happened to me, but then again you should never scam a scammer.

Football

liverpool 0 Barcelona 1

Magnificent performance from the Might Reds sees them through to the next round.

Money

No hay monedas! You see this sign everywhere you go, it means that the shop doesn't have any small change. The government can't afford to produce more and thus buying anything can prove problematical. You have to hoarde your change to use on the bus. You are frequently offered sweets as change - "no hay monedas quieres comer algo?" - bizarre.

Then there's the other extreme, no shop fancies changing a 100 peso note. The concept of a "till float" has only seemed to reach the big supermarkets. This forces you to keep a constant check on what change you have, many a morning i've had to go and buy something random from the supermarket to get change. Mind you it's quite amusing buying a bottle of wine at 8am - you get some very odd looks.

So basically they can't give small change and can't change a large note - no wonder the economy is buggered. It does, however, match the attitude of the shop owners who clearly aren't that interested in selling anything anyway, not unless you've got the exact money and preferably in small coins in which case they'll thank you profusely - not for the sale but for the change. Mental.

Philosophy

Woke at 7am as Irene left the premises, had a quick fag and settled down to The Godfather Part ii. Just about got halfway through before caffeine cravings drove me out of the building. A couple of cortados later i strolled to Belgrano for breakfast and the matinee showing of a Good Shepherd (el buen pastor). Tasty licuado (banana and milk shake) and an unbelievably tedious film.

Another stroll back to Palermo to go book shopping, managed to find something i haven't read in the English section - Sophie's World (great so far). Time to find a street cafe for a well deserved salad and a spot of reading. All was going swimmingly, the beer was cold and the mediterranean salad had some seriously succulent sardines. Then 3 Americans sat down at the next table. I tried to block them out, but you just can't. A relatively young couple and some bloke who wouldn´t shut up and can only be described as a disgrace.

After a few minutes the whole bar was aware he was good at sex, was on his second marriage, had been in counselling for 15 years and now knew, and i quote, "i know this time that if we divorce i won't be the reason". I actually wrote this down so stunned was i by it's stupidity and arrogance. However, 10 minutes later i'd come to the conclusion he was right, there was no chance of him being divorced again, within 2 years (at the outside) his wife will have certainly blown his or her brains out. I showed amazing self restraint and left.

I plan to spend the rest of the day on my terrace with 1 1/2 litres of diet coke and my book.

Football

Barcelona 1 - Liverpool 2

Santiago

A five hour flight and short busride and i'm safely installed in The Happy House hostel in Santiago. Stunning building, wood floors, high ceilings, a lounge, a bar area with pool table and roof terrace. A tenner a night is a bargain for what is basically a posh hotel with dorms.

The next few days are spent lazing around recovering from Easter Island exertions. Just about managed to drag myself to the cultural centre which had a great photo exhibition including Cartier-Bresson shots of Santiago in the fifties, awesome.

Decided to get the bus to Mendoza, a mistake. The border crossing took 3 hours, a queue of twenty buses waiting to go through immigration with one bloke in a booth. Ouch. Recovered by quaffing a beer and visiting the casino. Tonight i'm off to Buenos Aires, a twelve hour bus ride, but full cama (first class airline equivalent) is only 50 dollars so should get a bit of kip. Killing time on the internet and have stumbled on Bushisms. This was a bit of a cracker:

President Bush: "Peter. Are you going to ask that question with shades on?"
Peter Wallsten of the Los Angeles Times: "I can take them off."
Bush: "I'm interested in the shade look, seriously."
Wallsten: "All right, I'll keep it, then."
Bush: "For the viewers, there's no sun."
Wallsten: "I guess it depends on your perspective."
Bush: "Touche.
--an exchange with legally blind reporter Peter Wallsten, to whom Bush later apologized, Washington, D.C., June 14, 2006

and this:

"I was not pleased that Hamas has refused to announce its desire to destroy Israel." --George W. Bush, Washington, D.C., May 4, 2006

and many, many more

Day 4 Part ii

Tongariki, this place was fully restored in the early 90's, previously it was just like the rest of the coast. All the Moai's were toppled in the late 1700's, no one knows why. Internal warfare, earthquake, tsunami, or and call me cynical but is it just a coincidence that this is when the Europeans showed up. Whether we toppled them i don't know, we definitely intoduced small pox and slavery - decimating the population (toppling would seem like a good way of subjugating), i'm so proud.

Anyway, it's restored, it's magnificent, just me. Haven't seen another cyclist, is there something i don't know? Is this a good idea? the next 10 or so kms are along the north coast to Anakena beach. More dirt tracks, more wind and my arse is distincty displeased. Finally reach the beach, it's taken 4 hours. There's a bar, i have a diet coke, a fruit salad and buy some more water. Lie down under a palm tree and try not to look at the hill i think i have to go up.

This hill goes on for a long way climbs about 350m and it's stupidly hot. I get off. Walk the last bit, my legs are on fire and the fag breaks probably weren't the best idea. However from here i'm told it's all down hill. Praise the lord. Stop at Mt Pui, the festival has moved here for the afternoon and the local lunatics are hurtling down what is a very very steep hill lying on their backs on what looks like a type of banana boat. Hilarious,, no one crashes but a couple do managed to veer off course and into the crowd.

The final 15 km are a joy and took about 25 minutes, you have to love down hill. Bought a six pack, watched the sunset, watched 50 15 year olds cavort about in hoola dresses and went to bed. I was totally shattered, my arse ..., my legs..., but all in all it was a very very good idea.

Easter Island, Day 4 Part i

Fully rested and ready for an adventure i set off to rent a bike. No deposit required, 8 quid all in and i'm off to the mini-market. 6 litres of water and a few sarnies later my backpack is heavy, it's 9.30 am and it's already v hot and v humid. Is this a good idea?

The ride out of town is gently uphill on paved roads, easy and no traffic. To follow the coast and see the sights you are forced off this luxury onto dirt tracks. My seat is hard, is this a good idea? 5kms later and you hit the coast, wonderful views and the road isn't too bad. No hills either just gentle undulations sweeping up the coast. Brilliant.

The first two sites are ahus (ceremonial platforms) with their Moai scattered about in the vicinity. A tragedy, forlorn looking fellas not best pleased with being face down in the dirt. The next 15 kms are into a brutal headwind, it's getting hotter and i've already drunk 3 litres, is this a good idea?

My legs are starting to get the hump, my shirt is soaked and i reach the quarry. A volcanic hill where they carved the Moai straight out of the hillside. 300 or so of these fellas are scattered about at various stages of development. Stunning. All the ones on the hillside are about 10m high. The head 4m and the body, often sunk into a pit, is 6m. Just wonderful. Walk around for an hour or so and my legs and arse are glad to have escaped the bike. The next attraction is visible from the crest of the hill. Ahu Tongariki, 15 Moai in a row, about 2 km away and that is part ii

Easter Island

Day of rest, bit of blogging, a few postcards, the museum. Tomorrow it's time for the east coast. A Mountain bike is necessary, don't fancy another brutal hike.

Have to admit to feeling exremely pleased with myself at the mo. Coming here was a seriously good decision.

Most of the Moai were toppled, this fella is having a good old lie down, alot are in pieces - a tragedy.

Easter Isand, aka Isla de Pascua, aka Rapa Nui

Day Three

West coast. There's a good four hour trek up the west coast returning inland via a couple of Moais. It's hot, humid and my backpack is heavy - 6l of water. The walk up the coast is mind blowing, i keep on going, i've missed the turning, where am i? No idea. Thankfully a geezer doing a very good impression of Omar Sharif appears, sans camel and desert but heyho. He informs me i've gone 3 miles too far. Bollocks. I point to the hill and ask if i can walk up there, you have to stick to paths. He says no, but i should do it anyway and at the top i'll hit a path, no one will know and he says the views are amazing.

Tresspassing, another first for me. It's 500m up, it takes awhile but my backpack's weight is lessening. The view at the top covers all the island, the many volcanoes, and 360 degress of pacific nothingness. Awesome. Sit down, have a fag and listen to my i-pod - heaven.

The town seems miles away. Mainly because it is. Follow the path down and bump into a group of seven Moai. Speechless. A woman is selling mini pineapples. I've got no food so buy two. Here the cut the skin off and you eat it whilst holding the green planty top (what's it called?). Gorgeous. It then takes another 4 hours to get back. 8 1/2 hours and approx 24 miles, my legs feel fine, i'm either in shock or very fit (for me).

Another sunrise, but nowhere near as good. More ladies dancing, more beer and more kebabs. It doesn't get any better. It's Istanpool revisited.

Easter Island

Day Two photos. The volcano, the cemetary and birdlife.

Rapa Nui

Day Two.

Wake up, wonderful fresh pineapple juice for breakfast. Cecilia gives me a couple of maps and a guide. Decide to cover the south of the island. Head for Ranu Kau Volcano. This beauty has a crater lake that resembles one of Monet's Water Lilies. It took 2 hours climbing upto it, it's humid and i've already drunk two litres of water. I then get completely lost, not many sign posts round here. This results in a four hour yomp through forests, along the coast with not a person about. Mr Mcmenamin introduced me to the joys of wandering off in random directions, it's brilliant.

I am now knackered, it's 6ish when i finally reach my guesthouse. A couple of quick beers follow and a nap. The sun sets at 9pm. It's only a 15 minute walk for the best view point. The photos say it all. The cemetary on the way is very sad, not much life expectancy by the looks of it.

The first Moai you see is a wonderful moment, like you first Iceberg or whatever. They amaze, puzzle and overwhelm, love these fellas.

After the sunset it's festival time. Skewers of meat, loads of beer and 40 women sashaying their hips in hoola skirts. A perfect day.

Isla de Pascua

Day One.

Arrived at 10pm, the airport is betwixt rolling hills that could quite easily pass for the the Golden Valley (Herefordshire). Cecilia was punting rooms, not cheap but then it was never going to be, half an hour later she's whisked me round the town and i'm quaffing a beer and ready for bed.

Peluqueria

One of the very few benefits of not having "alot up top" is the simplicity of explaining to the hairdresser what you require. Let's face it "machina cuatro por todo por favor" (number 4 please) isn't going to confuse anyone. Wrong. He had even repeated what i'd said before he embarked on giving me a number one. So he's a sadist, innumerate or they have a different scale here, eitherway i no longer have anything up top. Gracias!!!

Still i'm off to Easter Island tomorrow, supposedly the remotest inhabited island in the world, so i feel i'm far enough away from the kind souls out there who'd wish to take the piss.