The recipe for Peruvian Christmas Turkey according to Michael's aunt Mari:
1 turkey
1 bottle of white wine
as much of "ajinomoto"/monosodium glutamate as you can dissolve in the white wine
secret condiments (probably chili and pepper)
To deserve to parttake in the feast, you needed to go to Mari's house between say, 8.30 and 10.30 pm on Christmas eve and make conversation while drinking some beer. Certain relatives had started rather early on the beer, and were very cheerful indeed when we arrived. The red rubber grapes glowed in the Christmas tree, and everyone kept checking their watches. Tempting smells emanated from the kitchen area. By the way, I still cannot get used to the way that houses here lack proper doors or walls for that matter in certain areas - you walk through the house and suddenly you find yourself looking up at the sky! It hardly ever rains, and when it does, not for long, so people often have half the kitchen outside in a courtyard, or on the roof terrace.
That said, I have already been woken up twice at night by the sound that passing cars only make in the street if the street is wet.
Back to the party: at midnight, we all sprang to our feet and wished each other Feliz Navidad with kisses on the cheek - the living room looked a bit like musical chairs for two minutes or so.
We then toasted with sickeningly sweet sparkling wine (just the way I like it) in an assortment of glasses. After that, we sat down around the table and stuffed ourselves with the abovementioned turkey, pea and carrot salad, rice and grilled camote. Dessert was Paneton, which is brioche-like cake with raisins and candied fruit, and Lussekatter, mine and Michael's contribution.
As is the case with most Christmas dinners, we were barely able to navigate back to the sofa after the meal, let alone stagger home and up the five flights of stairs a little while later... we had to stop half way and snigger at our dear neighbours' utterly tasteless Christmas decorations (one of which consists of dressing the already terrible combination of garden gnome and Virgin Mary in holly leaves and such).
On Christmas day, I was actually working in the morning (nothing like a bit of Norwegian mechanical engineering to get you started). Then in the afternoon, Michael called and asked me to come and have ice cream with Adriana, his first-born. I was very nervous, but it went really well. We teamed up against Michael and ate the cherries on the huge ice cream cup that we got, and that was that. She is really sweet and can't stop scratching her flea bites, just like me.
In the evening, I finally got round to making some sort of mulled wine concoction with sweet red wine (never ever have I been in a country where the red wine is so sweet), oranges, cloves and cinnamon. It turned out nicely, and the Christmas spirit settled in the living room/kitchen area, with the light string in the cactus glimmering away on the balcony.
Monday, December 25, 2006
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Saturday Rugby Game
Last Saturday saw me on the bus to Newton's College with Irene again. The sun was blazing and we both would have preferred to go to the beach..but there was something as rare as a women's rugby game, and so we were sweating on a crowded bus instead.
On the pitch, the guys were playing 15s as we arrived, and they looked ever so slightly more organised than us.
Angela brought the very posh rugby peru tops, which came in sizes M and S (European sizes: S and XS!)...most of us ended up wearing tops just that much tighter than was really comfortable...never mind.
From "my" team about 15 girls turned up, and the other team, from Newton's College, barely made 7. Our girls did really well, although they dont't like tackling (but they run like the wind, so they make up for it, for a while anyway). I was brought on the pitch about 2 seconds before the final whistle, to my great disappointment (however, as I'm not going to be playing for Peru's national team anyway, it was probably justified). Félix, our coach had a quick sit-down about the game and then suggested we should play another friendly game while we were there...I was all up for it, and Angela and Upi too, but everyone else disappeared pretty much before you could say "shower", so that was that. Posh top off, and back to 90 minutes on the bus... Makes me miss the after-game atmosphere in Bremen, I tell you!
Monday, December 18, 2006
One, two, many!
A week ago, Michael and I went to the party of one of his cousins, Lourdes, which gathered most of the uncountable aunts and uncles on his mother's side of the family. The party was held in her and her husband's cozy flat in Pueblo Libre, and we had all been asked to bring something to eat. I had made Flickorna Lundgren's Mazarintårta, which I thought would go down well with the average Peruvian's taste for almost sickeningly sweet desserts.
Thanks to my Germanic genes, we arrived early (only one hour after the time stated in the invitation), and so sat and conversed with the family for a while. Then the aunts welled in! Immediately Lourdes' husband got the karaoke going on the DVD player, and within no time everyone took turns singing love ballads from the 70s/80s that have probably never been played in Europe. The beer and the microphone were passed around, and everyone was happy. After a while, we also danced some salsa, and some lucky couples, namely me and Michael and Carla and her man, had to do a round on the floor alone, with everyone watching, jeering and clapping...I thought we did rather well, after the first 30 seconds of trying to remember which foot goes where!
I was thoroughly interrogated by Lourdes' nine-year-old daughter on issues like where do I come from, how long am I staying, do I like dogs or cats more, would I like to have children (she doesn't because apparently it hurts to give birth). Charming. After what seemed like days, the food was brought out on the table in the corner, and we all helped ourselves to a plate. It was basically the same traditional dishes that I had from the Humboldt conference buffet, but infinitely better cooked. I still am not convinced that the stomach lining of the cow is intended for eating, but with lots of rocoto&culantro (chili and coriander) sauce, that went down too. For dessert, there was aunt Kuki's churros, which is something like chewy donut pastry in a different shape, and my cake.
After tasting my cake, the aunts declared me to have passed the test and everyone laughed. Then the karaoke was started again, and I was forced to sing to the only anglo-saxon music in the collection; Beatles, naturally. I wasn't booed out of the living room, and no windows shattered, which is always a good sign. Some time later, after Michael had had his fill of karaoke, we went home, tired but content.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Nothing rotten in la Ventanilla
To go to Ventanilla, we got up very early, and walked over to Claudia’s house (Michael’s German colleague, who also lives in San Miguel). There we got on the small bus that was going to take the three of us and the visiting participants of the Incofish project; A Swedish woman working in the Philippines, an Estonian, an Englishman from Aberdeen, people from Senegal, Ecuador and the US.
First, we picked the people up in Miraflores. Then we drove Northwards again along the coast, through San Miguel and Callao past the airport and finally we entered la Ventanilla. I still have to get used to that whereas in Sweden a half an hour drive would take me from one city to the next crossing vast fields with nothing but cows, rape and sugar beets, in Lima you’re still on the same street – the arteries of Lima are really long and take you from shacks by the beach past colonial mansions and lush parks, huge shopping centres, universities, middle-class flats and banks back to low-rise residential areas and popular markets, all included in a bus ride for 1 sol!
La Ventanilla used to be the granary of Lima, as I understood it, but now the crop fields have at least partly given way to areas with huge warehouses housing, among others, the fish market. The bus pulled up in a make-shift sandy parking lot between two warehouses stretching out into the distance. One of them was blue, and a big sign with a fish outline said:
MMP
Mercado Mayorista Pesquero
El primer Terminal Pesquero del Perú
¡Mas Variedad a los precios Más Bajos¡
Terminal Pesquero de Ventanilla
Callao – Perú
In brief: Peru’s first retail fish market with more variety at low prices.
Between the mostly old and dusty cars, children played, dogs ran about, people sat and talked and some vendors were trying to tempt with drinks and food – for example, camote (sweet potato), platano (banana) and chicken’s feet straight from the barbeque!
After I inspected the sanitary facilities (which, to my relief, were very clean), we all entered the gates of the fish market. Our dress-down-you-will-get-fish-all-over-you, camera-in-hand, tousled tourists-on-group-excursion appearance, we immediately caught the attention of everyone in the market. A man and a woman sporting the same blue shirts as all the other people working at the fish market offered to assist us, and Claudia told them who we were and why we were there. They then took us through the market slowly, and the Incofish people looked for some fish to buy.
I was amazed at how well organised and fresh the market looked. Apparently the market opens some time around five, and we only arrived just after 9, so by then rush our had passed, but there were still a lot of market workers running around with crates of squid and what not. People followed our every move, and came up to ask about our cameras, point out a particular fish, claim that we should have to buy fish to be allowed to take pictures (jokingly)...one woman took it upon herself to show us all the varieties of fish sold at the market - she kept grabbing a fish from one of the stands and holding it up for scrutiny and photos, shouting the name of the fish repeatedly.
After having marvelled at the fresh water fish with their whiskers, the calamares and green algae (delicious in batter), moon fish, squid, crabs, prawns, sea cucumber, mussels, abalon and other molluscs, the incofish bought their fish, and Michael got a bag of Coquilles St Jaques, complete with shell, for us, and we left the market. Outside we bought some breakfast: grilled camote and platano.
The bus dropped the incofish people off at Imarpe in La Punta, and then took us home, where we cooked a delicious lunch with Michael's outstanding conchitas a la parmesana - St Jaques mussels in their shell with a sauce of lime and butter, with parmesan sprinkled on top, grilled in the oven....mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
That's the kind of morning I could get used to!
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Spare time, did you say?
The Quote of the day today by Douglas Adams could not have been more appropriate, so I'll repeat it here:
I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.
HELP!
I am buried under an avalanche of Scandinavian x-ray user interface messages to be proofread and translated.
I want to write a nice long post about my visit to the fish market, and about singing karaoke with Michael's aunts and uncles, but that will have to wait until Friday afternoon.
I'd also like to go to rugby practice, but this week it takes place at 6.30 AM, which is when I need to be balancing on the top of a chair or hanging out the window with Michael's computer to try and find the wireless connection to speak to my work...so. Soon I will learn to estimate actual time needed to do a job, and "just saying no". Ah yes, I look forward to it already.
Today does have one ray of sunlight though(and it's definitely not emanating from the evenly overcast coastal skies of Peru. I have been accepted to do two distance learning courses in Sweden:
- Fish ecology at Gothenburg University
- Writer's school at Kristianstad Högskola
This means I will have to get back to contriving my infamous parcels from Serpost, as they contain two of my course books (aaaargh!).
I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.
HELP!
I am buried under an avalanche of Scandinavian x-ray user interface messages to be proofread and translated.
I want to write a nice long post about my visit to the fish market, and about singing karaoke with Michael's aunts and uncles, but that will have to wait until Friday afternoon.
I'd also like to go to rugby practice, but this week it takes place at 6.30 AM, which is when I need to be balancing on the top of a chair or hanging out the window with Michael's computer to try and find the wireless connection to speak to my work...so. Soon I will learn to estimate actual time needed to do a job, and "just saying no". Ah yes, I look forward to it already.
Today does have one ray of sunlight though(and it's definitely not emanating from the evenly overcast coastal skies of Peru. I have been accepted to do two distance learning courses in Sweden:
- Fish ecology at Gothenburg University
- Writer's school at Kristianstad Högskola
This means I will have to get back to contriving my infamous parcels from Serpost, as they contain two of my course books (aaaargh!).
Monday, December 04, 2006
Humboldt Conference
I am now the proud holder of a certificate stating that I attended the international conference "The Humboldt Current System: Climate, ocean dynamics, ecosystem processes, and fisheries".
The conference was held in the new national library in Aviación, Lima. It's a very posh building with a gorgeous theatre (where the conference was held) and a state-of-the-art wireless network, designed by someone with an infortunate affinity for rough concrete blocks, and no desire to use to spectacular views of Miraflores and the sea that the upper floors must command. I will have to go back and visit the library itself soon, because they seemed to have some nice reference works.
On the Monday I helped out at the conference registration desk. I'm not sure I was actually required in the end, because almost all of the foreigners could get by in Spanish (better than myself, most of the time), and all of the people from Peru and Chile seemed to have awkward questions or ridiculous requests that I only understood half of anyway...never mind, it was fun, and I could spend the day waving to Michael across the lobby, who was handing out conference badges and backpacks (I got one of those too, yayayay). People who helped out were rewarded with free lunches all week in the specially constructed tent in the library court. Lunch consisted of a buffet with lots of different Peruvian dishes. Unfortunately the hygiene and quality of the cuisine left a lot to be desired, and so for the first time in the month that I've been here, my stomach went on strike on Tuesday night...
The next problem was the very powerful air conditioning system in the theatre, which meant everyone was sitting in whatever long-sleeved, long-legged garments they could muster in an otherwise 25-degree Peruvian spring! And, of course, Michael caught a cold and promptly passed it on to me!
The first days of the conference we heard presentations on winds, forcing, waves and water masses, and I was left wishing I'd paid some attention back in those physics classes in secondary school...many models and incomprehensible graphs later, we got on to ecosystems, seabirds, anchoveta and...HAKE - Michael's main preoccupation at work. It was really interesting to see some of the theories on why anchoveta and hake and some other important fish migrate or disappear, and to learn about top-down, bottom-up and wasp-waist systems - well, learn is maybe a mild exaggeration, but now I can go away and read more, or at least ask my personal, domestic specialist slightly more enlightened questions.
For example, I understood that when predators or El Niño force the anchoveta to move to greater depths, that leaves the seabirds unable to feed on them (and vice versa).
Michael's presentation was on the last day of the conference, AFTER the Peña party (which I will get to in a second). Both of us had had enough of his speech by then, we both had a "mild" fever, and, yes, could still feel the effect of the pisco sour from the night before. He did an excellent job, making me proud and his boss relieved that some of the Peruvian speakers at least were fluent enough to represent IMARPE (these generally being the underpaid "younger" employees who are hired for a period of maybe six months, with no social security and no pension scheme, year after year after year at the risk of being kicked out at the whim of the scientific director - this is in a government-funded institution researching the basis of maybe the country's most important source of revenue).
After the speech and lunch, I gave up and went home to bed.
The peña:
A show based loosely on traditional music and dance from the tribes of Peru, the peña was hosted by La Candelaria in the Barranco district. It was a nice, rustic bar&restaurant with a band, and we, the people from the conference, were seated at long wooden tables with a view of the central floor. Drinks were pisco sour, Cusqueña (beer), red wine and water. The food was more snacks, but they were delicious: crispy yucca sticks with mayonnaise dips, homemade chicken nuggets, cheese-filled bits of dough baked in the oven, served with guacamole, and some sort of marinated beef with chips. The entertainment consisted in a loud host who could have been working anywhere (AND DO WE HAVE ANYONE FROM THE UNITED STATES HERE TONIGHT?!) and dancers, who were very good. First there were some flute and drum accompanied "indians" in colourful costumes, and later came the people dancing "black" dances.
In between, conference guests were forced to represent their country in various silly dances. Fortunately for me, people still find it difficult to tell Switzerland and Sweden apart, and so I managed to dodge nomination. Instead, Michael and I had a go once we moved on to normal salsa. At 1.30 in the taxi back to San Miguel, Michael offered to give his speech on hake a final go. I declined rather firmly.
The conference was held in the new national library in Aviación, Lima. It's a very posh building with a gorgeous theatre (where the conference was held) and a state-of-the-art wireless network, designed by someone with an infortunate affinity for rough concrete blocks, and no desire to use to spectacular views of Miraflores and the sea that the upper floors must command. I will have to go back and visit the library itself soon, because they seemed to have some nice reference works.
On the Monday I helped out at the conference registration desk. I'm not sure I was actually required in the end, because almost all of the foreigners could get by in Spanish (better than myself, most of the time), and all of the people from Peru and Chile seemed to have awkward questions or ridiculous requests that I only understood half of anyway...never mind, it was fun, and I could spend the day waving to Michael across the lobby, who was handing out conference badges and backpacks (I got one of those too, yayayay). People who helped out were rewarded with free lunches all week in the specially constructed tent in the library court. Lunch consisted of a buffet with lots of different Peruvian dishes. Unfortunately the hygiene and quality of the cuisine left a lot to be desired, and so for the first time in the month that I've been here, my stomach went on strike on Tuesday night...
The next problem was the very powerful air conditioning system in the theatre, which meant everyone was sitting in whatever long-sleeved, long-legged garments they could muster in an otherwise 25-degree Peruvian spring! And, of course, Michael caught a cold and promptly passed it on to me!
The first days of the conference we heard presentations on winds, forcing, waves and water masses, and I was left wishing I'd paid some attention back in those physics classes in secondary school...many models and incomprehensible graphs later, we got on to ecosystems, seabirds, anchoveta and...HAKE - Michael's main preoccupation at work. It was really interesting to see some of the theories on why anchoveta and hake and some other important fish migrate or disappear, and to learn about top-down, bottom-up and wasp-waist systems - well, learn is maybe a mild exaggeration, but now I can go away and read more, or at least ask my personal, domestic specialist slightly more enlightened questions.
For example, I understood that when predators or El Niño force the anchoveta to move to greater depths, that leaves the seabirds unable to feed on them (and vice versa).
Michael's presentation was on the last day of the conference, AFTER the Peña party (which I will get to in a second). Both of us had had enough of his speech by then, we both had a "mild" fever, and, yes, could still feel the effect of the pisco sour from the night before. He did an excellent job, making me proud and his boss relieved that some of the Peruvian speakers at least were fluent enough to represent IMARPE (these generally being the underpaid "younger" employees who are hired for a period of maybe six months, with no social security and no pension scheme, year after year after year at the risk of being kicked out at the whim of the scientific director - this is in a government-funded institution researching the basis of maybe the country's most important source of revenue).
After the speech and lunch, I gave up and went home to bed.
The peña:
A show based loosely on traditional music and dance from the tribes of Peru, the peña was hosted by La Candelaria in the Barranco district. It was a nice, rustic bar&restaurant with a band, and we, the people from the conference, were seated at long wooden tables with a view of the central floor. Drinks were pisco sour, Cusqueña (beer), red wine and water. The food was more snacks, but they were delicious: crispy yucca sticks with mayonnaise dips, homemade chicken nuggets, cheese-filled bits of dough baked in the oven, served with guacamole, and some sort of marinated beef with chips. The entertainment consisted in a loud host who could have been working anywhere (AND DO WE HAVE ANYONE FROM THE UNITED STATES HERE TONIGHT?!) and dancers, who were very good. First there were some flute and drum accompanied "indians" in colourful costumes, and later came the people dancing "black" dances.
In between, conference guests were forced to represent their country in various silly dances. Fortunately for me, people still find it difficult to tell Switzerland and Sweden apart, and so I managed to dodge nomination. Instead, Michael and I had a go once we moved on to normal salsa. At 1.30 in the taxi back to San Miguel, Michael offered to give his speech on hake a final go. I declined rather firmly.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Customs officers - the scourge of humankind
It all started on Friday last week, when Michael took the morning off to go with me and pick up my stuff from the post office. The trip into nowhere takes at least 45 minutes and brought us to San Martin de Porres, one of the poorer districts located between the airport and the hills.
There we discovered that the passport is not a valid form of ID in Peru, and as Michael had lost his ID card, and his name was the recipient stated on the parcel slip, we could collect nothing. Time and energy wasted: 3 hours.
Since Sunday, we have been working at the Humboldt Current Conference organised by IMARPE and IRD in Lima. It's great, but I don't understand most of the physics, wind forcing, current and anchoveta models and what not. This afternoon we took time off and went to the post office with a tiny piece of paper which states that Michael has indeed lost his ID card (by the way it turned up when we went to do our laundry at the launderette on Saturday, but that was too late to cancel the process of getting a new one).
Lesson 2 at the post office: used items of clothing or shoes may not be brought into the country, unless received by a person returning from a journey abroad. This is to prevent people from importing second hand clothes and compete with local production (!). Since my name does not appear as a recipient, and since Michael has not been out of the country for the last year, we couldn't collect anything. Instead we have to organise a "rectification" of the recipient's name and address, which means sending a form in Spanish to my dad who has to fax/e-mail it back signed together with xxxx copies of his passport AND his "sent" receipts. We also need to submit at least 2 bills from the address to which the parcels were sent...
I just phoned my dad, he is in Hungary and the receipts are most probably in his car, which is -wait for it - in Copenhagen Airport's car park (admittedly a very safe place indeed to store them).
If we have the papers here sorted by the 30/11 it's only going to cost me 70 soles per parcel (=€17). If we don't manage that, it will cost 239 soles (€56) per parcel!!!
The final thing that really made me want to go berserk, is that the customs officer who opened the parcel and talked to me and Michael was lovely, and wanted to give them to me and be done with the whole drama - as a sensible person, he realized that I wasn't going to sell my dirty rugby boots or half-used makeup to anyone to make a profit. Only, because my dad had declared the content as shoes, he needed the approval of his superior. We spoke to that guy at our last visit too, and his only answer to any question is "así es la ley" - it's the law. Come flood or earthquake. Given all this, we'll probably end up returning the parcels to Ängelholm, and I'll have one pair of dress shoes for the next four months... (big crisis, on the wider scale of things, obviously, especially what with world famine and all).
I was so angry on the bus back from the post office that I was almost hoping someone would grab me or try to steal something from me, just so I'd have an excuse to slap someone and shout at them.
The only ray of sunshine today was when Arnauld, Michael's future PhD supervisor, and representative of IRD in Lima told us we can go to the conference Peña party on Thursday as a reward for helping out at the conference.
My company in Bremen sent me a translation order today. Unfortunately the translation was to go into Norwegian....! They apologized five minutes later.
Así es la vida.
There we discovered that the passport is not a valid form of ID in Peru, and as Michael had lost his ID card, and his name was the recipient stated on the parcel slip, we could collect nothing. Time and energy wasted: 3 hours.
Since Sunday, we have been working at the Humboldt Current Conference organised by IMARPE and IRD in Lima. It's great, but I don't understand most of the physics, wind forcing, current and anchoveta models and what not. This afternoon we took time off and went to the post office with a tiny piece of paper which states that Michael has indeed lost his ID card (by the way it turned up when we went to do our laundry at the launderette on Saturday, but that was too late to cancel the process of getting a new one).
Lesson 2 at the post office: used items of clothing or shoes may not be brought into the country, unless received by a person returning from a journey abroad. This is to prevent people from importing second hand clothes and compete with local production (!). Since my name does not appear as a recipient, and since Michael has not been out of the country for the last year, we couldn't collect anything. Instead we have to organise a "rectification" of the recipient's name and address, which means sending a form in Spanish to my dad who has to fax/e-mail it back signed together with xxxx copies of his passport AND his "sent" receipts. We also need to submit at least 2 bills from the address to which the parcels were sent...
I just phoned my dad, he is in Hungary and the receipts are most probably in his car, which is -wait for it - in Copenhagen Airport's car park (admittedly a very safe place indeed to store them).
If we have the papers here sorted by the 30/11 it's only going to cost me 70 soles per parcel (=€17). If we don't manage that, it will cost 239 soles (€56) per parcel!!!
The final thing that really made me want to go berserk, is that the customs officer who opened the parcel and talked to me and Michael was lovely, and wanted to give them to me and be done with the whole drama - as a sensible person, he realized that I wasn't going to sell my dirty rugby boots or half-used makeup to anyone to make a profit. Only, because my dad had declared the content as shoes, he needed the approval of his superior. We spoke to that guy at our last visit too, and his only answer to any question is "así es la ley" - it's the law. Come flood or earthquake. Given all this, we'll probably end up returning the parcels to Ängelholm, and I'll have one pair of dress shoes for the next four months... (big crisis, on the wider scale of things, obviously, especially what with world famine and all).
I was so angry on the bus back from the post office that I was almost hoping someone would grab me or try to steal something from me, just so I'd have an excuse to slap someone and shout at them.
The only ray of sunshine today was when Arnauld, Michael's future PhD supervisor, and representative of IRD in Lima told us we can go to the conference Peña party on Thursday as a reward for helping out at the conference.
My company in Bremen sent me a translation order today. Unfortunately the translation was to go into Norwegian....! They apologized five minutes later.
Así es la vida.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Rugby at the end of the world
Rugby practice takes place at Newton's College in La Molina, at the other side of Lima. If we look out through our front door due East, the horizon is made up of hills. When you stand on the rugby pitch, they are almost hovering above you. The trip there takes just over an hour on a shaking, rattling bus. Never mind...what wouldn't you do to play rugby, nicht wahr?
Yesterday I met up with Angela in Miraflores, and we went together. Traffic was terrible, but we managed to arrive just as the coach, Félix, a ginger-haired Cuban pulled up outside the gates.
After a frantic and fruitless search for a toilet and lots of kisses on the cheek from all the girls, we started training, which was made up of two parts: ball control with Félix, and then physical workout with a tall, black and ruthless Cuban guy who basically laughed at my tendon injury and told me to stop being such a whimp (not in so many words).
There were over 20 girls!!! 6 or 7 new... and two coaches is such a luxury! This is going to be great! Well, my muscles disagree, but that'll change. Also, my head was buzzing with Spanish words when I got out of the bus at San Miguel Plaza at 11 pm. I can't wait to go tomorrow! One of the girls has a Swedish uncle, and was asking if I could maybe teach her Swedish. I told her I'd be delighted. The only problem now will be to set the fee.
Tonight Michael and I are going to one of his aunts and pick up a parcel slip for my boxes of essentials that my dad graciously accepted to post for me: shoes, shoes, some books on writing proper Swedish and makeup! Hallelujah!
Now I'm off to enjoy the last of the evening sun.
Yesterday I met up with Angela in Miraflores, and we went together. Traffic was terrible, but we managed to arrive just as the coach, Félix, a ginger-haired Cuban pulled up outside the gates.
After a frantic and fruitless search for a toilet and lots of kisses on the cheek from all the girls, we started training, which was made up of two parts: ball control with Félix, and then physical workout with a tall, black and ruthless Cuban guy who basically laughed at my tendon injury and told me to stop being such a whimp (not in so many words).
There were over 20 girls!!! 6 or 7 new... and two coaches is such a luxury! This is going to be great! Well, my muscles disagree, but that'll change. Also, my head was buzzing with Spanish words when I got out of the bus at San Miguel Plaza at 11 pm. I can't wait to go tomorrow! One of the girls has a Swedish uncle, and was asking if I could maybe teach her Swedish. I told her I'd be delighted. The only problem now will be to set the fee.
Tonight Michael and I are going to one of his aunts and pick up a parcel slip for my boxes of essentials that my dad graciously accepted to post for me: shoes, shoes, some books on writing proper Swedish and makeup! Hallelujah!
Now I'm off to enjoy the last of the evening sun.
Flat photos
Breakfast!
Our front door
Michael downstairs. Our windows are at the top, and from the roof a pigeon is looking down on us.
View of the kitchen from the balcony.
Michael with the cactus that he insisted on getting.
View East from balcony
View West of the islands
Monday, November 20, 2006
First encounter with the rugby crowd and more
Me using public transport - a bright red and blue bus!Last week was mostly spent buying a laptop for Michael that he can use for his PhD. This turned out to be an enterprise and a half, involving plutoons of incompetent sales staff. They were barely able to read their own (misspelled) specifications signs, and turned out completely incapable of understanding what Michael wanted. What with him incorporating the term "last minute" and his company needing an invoice and him paying in cash in US$, there simply was no end to the letdowns and frustration. At one point, Iain (my favourite computer geek) suggested he'd buy a computer in Germany and send it, but that would have taken too long, unfortunately.
The computer is now sitting in our flat, nice and silvery with a big IRD (Institut de Recherche pour le développement) sticker on it.
On Friday I went to San Marcos and listened to another excellent class of political parties. The lecturer is a diplomat working for the Foreign Ministry. Two weeks ago he was in Bolivia, observing the happenings in Santa Cruz, a region in political upheaval. I'm still struggling to understand, but I got little bits of information. It's all very interesting.
After that I went for an iced cappuccino with Norman, one of the students of the class. He's planning to do a BA in business in Dublin next year. Since the university was closing at 12.30 to prepare for regional municipal elections, it turned out that I was the only student who appeared for "Humanos Derechos" at 11.15, and class was cancelled. So Norman took me to Parque de leyendas, a zoo and historical park in San Miguel. They had LOTS of animals, especially from the jungle, but unfortunately many of them looked miserable. There were different cats, rodents and monkeys, jaguars, crocodiles, parrots, snakes and fish. The smalles monkeys would have fitted in my hand, and are called tamarins - soooo cute!
Friday evening we were too tired to do much.
On Saturday, however, I had my first encounter with the Peruvian rugby girls! I met with Angela in McDonald's in Miraflores, but then went to sit and chat in café Zeta. Angela has been to Germany, and knows people in the St Pauli girls team. She's now doing a hardcore French course at Alliance Française, to be able to go to Paris and study. After a cappuccino and lots of information at break-neck speed, we took a taxi to Surquillos, to see Chiara, another rugby player. A student in Minnesota, she's come home to buy her wedding dress - she's getting married to a Peruvian, but over there. I was shown lots of photos of rugby players, and then we went shopping for the bbq - at just after 9 pm (I had lunch at 2)...the supermarket was very crowded, which is still strange for someone who comes from a country where the shops close around 9...we bought meat, potatoes, mayonnaise, ketchup, ají sauce and coke. Alcohol had been purchased previously, as there was a temporary ban on alcohol from Thursday at midnight until Sunday, due to the elections. Noone is really sure about the thinking behind this ban, but there it was. I'd told Michael to pick me up around 11 pm, so I didn't have to get a taxi alone, but at that point there were only three girls and me; the others arrived just before midnight, at which point the charcoal was still resisting our efforts. Dinner was served at 1.30 am(!): Delicious sausages, bits of chicken and baked potatoes. There were mini sausages made from blood, but I'm not a big fan of them, as a rule. Still, they didn't taste bad, especially with some black rum and coke. The girls and boys were very nice, and I look forward to travelling about an hour on a mini bus on Tuesday to get to practice. I'm very scared of the physical workout coach, who is apparently ruthless, but we will have to see with my ankle still slightly sore.
Yesterday Michael couldn't find his ID card, so he couldn't vote, which was quite a disappointment. Now he will have to pay a fine. Instead we went to the market, and I took lots of photos.
Mmm, the afternoon snack waiting for the bbq!
Michael and his mum
The evening was spent watching a poorly dubbed strange movie (Children of men) with even worse subtitles, and eating mango ceviche, mmmm.
Today there is a meeting for people wanting to do the Spanish course in San Marcos Facultad de Letras. We'll see.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Crash course in Peruvian politics
Sunday was an interesting day. We went to central Lima to buy a USB stick for me. It´s such a shame, Lima used to be a beautiful, flourishing city. But now there is too much traffic, too much pollution and too much unemployment. The beautiful old buildings are derelict and/or boarded up, and lots of newer, uglier skyscrapers stand half empty and just look dirty. That was my initial impression, and I hope to see more of the city later, like Miraflores.
In the early evening we bought a bottle of wine and went to visit Michael´s dad and brothers and sisters from the dad´s second marriage. Oh dear.
They were very nice, but his dad almost talked my ears off about Peruvian and international politics, about when he used to work on Europe and Africa bound ships, all the nice women he met in Europe in the 60s, and what it means to be born a Gemini (something we have in common)! It was interesting, and I certainly got the general jist of things, managed to smile and be impressed in the right places. But then Michael asked me if I understood this or that word, and I looked like a complete fool who was just pretending to understand. Oh well, we knew what we were talking about, and the Cabernet Sauvignon Merlot from Chile was imbibable. Eventually, we had some cheese and ham toasts and avocado rolls, and after many bottles of beer and some indigenous (harp) music on the stereo, Michael and I headed home, with promises of more get-togethers.
Yesterday (Monday) we went to the Christa McAuliffe school for children with learning difficulties in Pueblo Libre (neighbouring district), where Michael and two friends played at a school show celebrating the school´s 20th birthday. It was so much fun - the school ranges from kindergarten to collegio, and the small children were unbelieavably cute. However, there was some trauma when they were dancing to "You´re the one that I want" from Grease, and the lead girl started crying because she was missing her sister, who stood behind the curtain.
The school cajón orchestra was really cool, and now I have to go out and buy some "black Peruvian music" to hear more. But tonight it´s "Organismos internacionales" at San Marcos. Hopefully the teacher will turn up, unlike this morning.
In the early evening we bought a bottle of wine and went to visit Michael´s dad and brothers and sisters from the dad´s second marriage. Oh dear.
They were very nice, but his dad almost talked my ears off about Peruvian and international politics, about when he used to work on Europe and Africa bound ships, all the nice women he met in Europe in the 60s, and what it means to be born a Gemini (something we have in common)! It was interesting, and I certainly got the general jist of things, managed to smile and be impressed in the right places. But then Michael asked me if I understood this or that word, and I looked like a complete fool who was just pretending to understand. Oh well, we knew what we were talking about, and the Cabernet Sauvignon Merlot from Chile was imbibable. Eventually, we had some cheese and ham toasts and avocado rolls, and after many bottles of beer and some indigenous (harp) music on the stereo, Michael and I headed home, with promises of more get-togethers.
Yesterday (Monday) we went to the Christa McAuliffe school for children with learning difficulties in Pueblo Libre (neighbouring district), where Michael and two friends played at a school show celebrating the school´s 20th birthday. It was so much fun - the school ranges from kindergarten to collegio, and the small children were unbelieavably cute. However, there was some trauma when they were dancing to "You´re the one that I want" from Grease, and the lead girl started crying because she was missing her sister, who stood behind the curtain.
The school cajón orchestra was really cool, and now I have to go out and buy some "black Peruvian music" to hear more. But tonight it´s "Organismos internacionales" at San Marcos. Hopefully the teacher will turn up, unlike this morning.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Saturday at the market
Our breakfasts have now acquired a certain degree of routine: after showers, one of us goes down to the bakery to get rolls and avocado. The other sets the table/washes the dishes/cuts the fruit for the morning juice. We're still experimenting with the right mix of fruits, but there are plenty to choose from downstairs: pineapple, papaya, mango and lots of different types of banana.
After breakfast today, we got the bus to Magdalena, to go to the market. It consists of numerous shacks/small buildings close together under one cover. They house vendors of fruit and vegetables, soap, kitchen utensils, makeup, spices and herbs, medicinal plants and powders, Chinese, butchers, fishmongers and more. Whatever takes your fancy: sweet potatoes, beans of all kinds, dried lama, dried potatoes, mango, papaya, figs, ciruela (Peruvian plums), soup and wok vegetables all rinsed, chopped and ready to go, ginger, aji sauces, eucalyptus leaves (against colds), culantro (coriander), cebiche, anticucho, sheep's head (for soup) crabs or shellfish, squid!
Ducks are killed right in front of you, while the guinea pig family in the cage next to the counter happily munch away at their lettuce.
Everyone is excelling in trying to think of new, flattering nicknames for you and thus make you interested in their goods: señorita, bonita, niña, muñeca, reina...
We bought a cafetera - a pot for brewing coffee, so I don't have to buy the expensive German cappuccino powder anymore. Then we went a bit nuts in the fruit section...tomorrow we're making strawberry marmalade for Michael's mother, the meeting with whom was very pleasant and also pleasantly short ;)
Apart from that we found a very nice sesame oil, sweet potatoes, celeri, coriander, wok veg, mango, pineapple, figs, ciruelas...
Now I'm going to have to head home to be there when the landlady comes round with the guy who is to fix our door bell. That is, the function to open the door from the flat is permanently disabled somehow, but at least now we will know if someone would like to come in, without them shouting at the top of their lungs from the street. I hope she will not be too interrogative.
We now think that Michael is becoming famous on our block - he is the one with the blue-eyed, tall foreign girlfriend. It seems we're the excitement of the week in our house. I guess the only other foreigner is the Italian gentleman keeping a tienda next to the pet shop - but he's been here for 20 years already.
Tonight Michael has a rehearsal with some guys who are going to play at a school jubilee on Monday. So we'll buy some beer and go there...then we'll see what happens.
Oh yes, yesterday we went to have cebiche at Manolo's in La Punta again. Then I came for a quick visit to IMARPE. I instantly felt at home downstairs, in front of a big aquarium with cichlid fishes...the hungry fish watched my every move. Michael's office and colleagues awaited upstairs - talk about your reputation preceding you! Well, they were nice, and Jacky and Nathalie are going to take me on a girls' night out soon, which I look forward to very much. Watch out Lima!
After breakfast today, we got the bus to Magdalena, to go to the market. It consists of numerous shacks/small buildings close together under one cover. They house vendors of fruit and vegetables, soap, kitchen utensils, makeup, spices and herbs, medicinal plants and powders, Chinese, butchers, fishmongers and more. Whatever takes your fancy: sweet potatoes, beans of all kinds, dried lama, dried potatoes, mango, papaya, figs, ciruela (Peruvian plums), soup and wok vegetables all rinsed, chopped and ready to go, ginger, aji sauces, eucalyptus leaves (against colds), culantro (coriander), cebiche, anticucho, sheep's head (for soup) crabs or shellfish, squid!
Ducks are killed right in front of you, while the guinea pig family in the cage next to the counter happily munch away at their lettuce.
Everyone is excelling in trying to think of new, flattering nicknames for you and thus make you interested in their goods: señorita, bonita, niña, muñeca, reina...
We bought a cafetera - a pot for brewing coffee, so I don't have to buy the expensive German cappuccino powder anymore. Then we went a bit nuts in the fruit section...tomorrow we're making strawberry marmalade for Michael's mother, the meeting with whom was very pleasant and also pleasantly short ;)
Apart from that we found a very nice sesame oil, sweet potatoes, celeri, coriander, wok veg, mango, pineapple, figs, ciruelas...
Now I'm going to have to head home to be there when the landlady comes round with the guy who is to fix our door bell. That is, the function to open the door from the flat is permanently disabled somehow, but at least now we will know if someone would like to come in, without them shouting at the top of their lungs from the street. I hope she will not be too interrogative.
We now think that Michael is becoming famous on our block - he is the one with the blue-eyed, tall foreign girlfriend. It seems we're the excitement of the week in our house. I guess the only other foreigner is the Italian gentleman keeping a tienda next to the pet shop - but he's been here for 20 years already.
Tonight Michael has a rehearsal with some guys who are going to play at a school jubilee on Monday. So we'll buy some beer and go there...then we'll see what happens.
Oh yes, yesterday we went to have cebiche at Manolo's in La Punta again. Then I came for a quick visit to IMARPE. I instantly felt at home downstairs, in front of a big aquarium with cichlid fishes...the hungry fish watched my every move. Michael's office and colleagues awaited upstairs - talk about your reputation preceding you! Well, they were nice, and Jacky and Nathalie are going to take me on a girls' night out soon, which I look forward to very much. Watch out Lima!
Thursday, November 09, 2006
The joys of modern communication - new mobile phone number AGAIN
We have now established why Internet has not yet been installed in our flat: apparently there is a technical problem. On closer examination, it turned out that the technicians visited our address and realised that the building was too tall (or that the cable they´d brought was too short, depending on your point of view). As a consequence, it seems we have lost our place in the queue and may have to wait another two weeks for a new time slot! Oh.
At least I am now communicable to other people, hehe. In other words, I have a Peruvian mobile phone number. Anyone interested in knowing it should send me an e-mail.
Tonight I´m meeting the MOTHER! Slight sense of panic justified? I think so! Oh well, at least I´ve mastered that most useful Spanish phrase: Puede hablar más despacio, por favor? And no, it doesn´t translate to "any chance of me surviving the amount of ají you just put in that?". It means: could you please speak slower...
Today´s insignificant observations:
The electrical wires outside our building look exactly the same as those outside David´s flat in Brighton, i.e. hanging everywhere and in any way, looking like a giant had been in the middle of untangling them, and then just left them tied to various posts in the streets...
There is this guy who comes around every afternoon to pick up the empty fruit crates from the local shops. He does this by putting them together three and three, and then roping them all to his bike - approx. 2.5 metres high! It looks very impressive. I might have to try and acquire some of those crates for our balcony, to set the plants on.
Disappointingly, there has not been much sun these last few days. I hope that doesn´t set back our balcony crop too much!
At least I am now communicable to other people, hehe. In other words, I have a Peruvian mobile phone number. Anyone interested in knowing it should send me an e-mail.
Tonight I´m meeting the MOTHER! Slight sense of panic justified? I think so! Oh well, at least I´ve mastered that most useful Spanish phrase: Puede hablar más despacio, por favor? And no, it doesn´t translate to "any chance of me surviving the amount of ají you just put in that?". It means: could you please speak slower...
Today´s insignificant observations:
The electrical wires outside our building look exactly the same as those outside David´s flat in Brighton, i.e. hanging everywhere and in any way, looking like a giant had been in the middle of untangling them, and then just left them tied to various posts in the streets...
There is this guy who comes around every afternoon to pick up the empty fruit crates from the local shops. He does this by putting them together three and three, and then roping them all to his bike - approx. 2.5 metres high! It looks very impressive. I might have to try and acquire some of those crates for our balcony, to set the plants on.
Disappointingly, there has not been much sun these last few days. I hope that doesn´t set back our balcony crop too much!
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Tre myror är fler än en kackerlacka
There shall have to be less of this one entry per day business once I get back to working for Bremen, I guess. For now, I can proudly say that I went shopping all on my own today!
First, I walked to a permanent native arts and crafts markets which was more like a small group of workshops built in a little walled area. Outside one shop a man was sat hammering at some piece of metal, shelves of lama statuettes behind him. At the rear of the small court, a little granny sat in her assorted jewellry and knitwear shop. After her grandson had climbed all over the shop trying to find some colourful bags for the demanding Swede, a man who called the lady "mamita" took me over to his shop. I managed to sort my way through various sweaters with lamas and bought a nice pink, black and green handbag with two bobbles (tofsar) as well as a small garment that I've forgotten the name of - one of those things that hangs over your head and forms a triangle at the back and front. It's green and black.The guy explained that all of the shops are more like a large family anyway. I hope so, because I felt sorry for mamita that I was stolen away!
Then I walked back to Plaza San Miguel and browsed some interior decorating shops. When I was walking across to another DIY store, I was accosted by an American in his fifties with a desperate look in his eyes who asked for some money because his wallet had got stolen and he had to phone mother to have her wire money via Western Union (I do pray that I never have to use that company after an incident with a Greek girl in Nantes trying to get her money out for days after her grandgather had spellt her name in god knows what transcription of Greek - her identifying herself with a passport just wasn't good enough). Anyway. This American had "just" left his wallet on the counter in the launderette while trying to pay. Also, he told me of a woman who had her handbag grabbed by the taxi driver. That does it, I'm not getting a taxi alone.
After that little drama (I gave the guy the two soles I had in change, and he went off to the internet cafe), I went in and bought some stuff, and was thoroughly interviewed buy the woman at the till (yes, the given question "and how do you find Peru?" was asked, and given advice on how to be careful in the taxis. I then went upstairs and explored the supermarket.
They have a self service sugar tank! Brown and white, of course. My standard test of supermarket staff turned out a disappointing but oh so common result: no one knew that they actually sell yeast, least of all the lady in the bakery. I tracked it down myself in the flour aisle. Incidentally the only supermarket to pass the test so far is Tesco, where I was handed a big slab of fresh yeast directly by the baker himself.
The supermarket has a huge cheese, marmalade and chili counter(!) with friendly women in white serving you. Among the marmalades, there were several large troughs of something that I understood to be chocolate or fudge spread. Cool.
The chili part consisted of buckets full of different chili purees. I bought a small plastic cup of a red type. We'll see how that turns out with the pizza I'm making. Now it's home to make an omelette for late lunch, and draw up a schedule of the political science courses that seem interesting.
Oh yes, one important thing: I discovered that IRN BRU exists in Peru!!! Only, it doesn't have the carrot orange colour that it does in Scotland; it is a bright greenish yellow like really aggressively coloured lemonade, and is called Inka Cola. It is the only soft drink which was able to challenge and win over Coca Cola here. Allegedly it is made from Hierba buena, but I have my doubts. Or maybe that really is the secret ingredient in Irn Bru too? Will we ever know?
First, I walked to a permanent native arts and crafts markets which was more like a small group of workshops built in a little walled area. Outside one shop a man was sat hammering at some piece of metal, shelves of lama statuettes behind him. At the rear of the small court, a little granny sat in her assorted jewellry and knitwear shop. After her grandson had climbed all over the shop trying to find some colourful bags for the demanding Swede, a man who called the lady "mamita" took me over to his shop. I managed to sort my way through various sweaters with lamas and bought a nice pink, black and green handbag with two bobbles (tofsar) as well as a small garment that I've forgotten the name of - one of those things that hangs over your head and forms a triangle at the back and front. It's green and black.The guy explained that all of the shops are more like a large family anyway. I hope so, because I felt sorry for mamita that I was stolen away!
Then I walked back to Plaza San Miguel and browsed some interior decorating shops. When I was walking across to another DIY store, I was accosted by an American in his fifties with a desperate look in his eyes who asked for some money because his wallet had got stolen and he had to phone mother to have her wire money via Western Union (I do pray that I never have to use that company after an incident with a Greek girl in Nantes trying to get her money out for days after her grandgather had spellt her name in god knows what transcription of Greek - her identifying herself with a passport just wasn't good enough). Anyway. This American had "just" left his wallet on the counter in the launderette while trying to pay. Also, he told me of a woman who had her handbag grabbed by the taxi driver. That does it, I'm not getting a taxi alone.
After that little drama (I gave the guy the two soles I had in change, and he went off to the internet cafe), I went in and bought some stuff, and was thoroughly interviewed buy the woman at the till (yes, the given question "and how do you find Peru?" was asked, and given advice on how to be careful in the taxis. I then went upstairs and explored the supermarket.
They have a self service sugar tank! Brown and white, of course. My standard test of supermarket staff turned out a disappointing but oh so common result: no one knew that they actually sell yeast, least of all the lady in the bakery. I tracked it down myself in the flour aisle. Incidentally the only supermarket to pass the test so far is Tesco, where I was handed a big slab of fresh yeast directly by the baker himself.
The supermarket has a huge cheese, marmalade and chili counter(!) with friendly women in white serving you. Among the marmalades, there were several large troughs of something that I understood to be chocolate or fudge spread. Cool.
The chili part consisted of buckets full of different chili purees. I bought a small plastic cup of a red type. We'll see how that turns out with the pizza I'm making. Now it's home to make an omelette for late lunch, and draw up a schedule of the political science courses that seem interesting.
Oh yes, one important thing: I discovered that IRN BRU exists in Peru!!! Only, it doesn't have the carrot orange colour that it does in Scotland; it is a bright greenish yellow like really aggressively coloured lemonade, and is called Inka Cola. It is the only soft drink which was able to challenge and win over Coca Cola here. Allegedly it is made from Hierba buena, but I have my doubts. Or maybe that really is the secret ingredient in Irn Bru too? Will we ever know?
Monday, November 06, 2006
Finally - Cebiche!
The morning was spent visiting the two universities nearby - San Marcos and Catolica - finding out about Spanish courses. The ladies in both places were very helpful, and it doesn´t look like it will be too difficult. The only problem is whether there will be enough foreigners to fill a group. I might attend some lectures in the San Marcos Political Sciences department, too, so as not to become completely "de-academised". The catholic university looked much prettier and the students ever so slightly more well dressed and well behaved - no wonder, it is a private university. Michael was trying to describe to me how they even talk with a different accent to that of the students 100 m down the road.
At any rate, I do not want to know how much they spend on irrigation in that place, but the result is beautiful. We found most of the plants we´ve now got on our balcony (tex. lejongap och pelargonior), but in overwhelming number and colours. I even saw my friend from Australia; the, here, native Jacaranda tree. Outside the university Michael obligingly bought World AIDS Day stickers for us both and was praised by the woman selling them.
For lunch we went to La Punta, which is the small peninsulan district of Lima past Callao where IMARPE (Michael´s workplace) is located. It is a small district with strong Italian influence. It´s also the site of the last combat between the Peruvians and the Spanish, to which a huge fort bears witness. La Punta is filled with nice, low houses in bright colours like turquoise, magenta and orange, offset by great bushes of bougainvillea. To get to our restaurant of choice, we had to walk past all the competitor cevicherias, with women standing outside trying to convince passers-by to enter. I got called various names, like muñeca (baby doll) and bonita, neither of which convinced me. The place where we finally sat down was pleasantly free of "door advertisers", and had pristine white table cloths on top of dark blue ones, simple wooden chairs and tables and posters of the Beatles, Elvis, James Dean and Marilyn Monroe pn the white walls. The proprietor was a huge gentleman sat behind the bar overseeing the establishment while a slightly more agile man waited on the 20 or so tables. through a hatch in the wall you could catch a glance of the two women who were busy preparing fish and shellfish in the kitchen.
We had cooked cold mussles covered in chopped red onion and lime for starters, and a plate with ceviche, sweet potatoe and a type of white corn. The ceviche was raw cubes of Marlin (swordfish) in a delicious lime, chili and coriander marinade. To drink with that: Peruvian beer, of course. Less obvious is the beer´s name: Pilsen. I also got to taste a non-alcoholic drink made from boiled black/deep purple corn with added sugar. Also quite nice.
After lunch Michael sadly had to go earn his living, and I made my first trip alone on one of the mini buses (nicknamed killer buses) which are actually not as bad as the name might suggest. They cost 1 sol for trips even more than 45 minutes long. You have to put up with all kinds of beggars and salesmen getting on and giving a speach about why they deserve to relieve you of some of your fortune.
Now I should go home and decide what we´re having for dinner, and then read through some of the university information.
At any rate, I do not want to know how much they spend on irrigation in that place, but the result is beautiful. We found most of the plants we´ve now got on our balcony (tex. lejongap och pelargonior), but in overwhelming number and colours. I even saw my friend from Australia; the, here, native Jacaranda tree. Outside the university Michael obligingly bought World AIDS Day stickers for us both and was praised by the woman selling them.
For lunch we went to La Punta, which is the small peninsulan district of Lima past Callao where IMARPE (Michael´s workplace) is located. It is a small district with strong Italian influence. It´s also the site of the last combat between the Peruvians and the Spanish, to which a huge fort bears witness. La Punta is filled with nice, low houses in bright colours like turquoise, magenta and orange, offset by great bushes of bougainvillea. To get to our restaurant of choice, we had to walk past all the competitor cevicherias, with women standing outside trying to convince passers-by to enter. I got called various names, like muñeca (baby doll) and bonita, neither of which convinced me. The place where we finally sat down was pleasantly free of "door advertisers", and had pristine white table cloths on top of dark blue ones, simple wooden chairs and tables and posters of the Beatles, Elvis, James Dean and Marilyn Monroe pn the white walls. The proprietor was a huge gentleman sat behind the bar overseeing the establishment while a slightly more agile man waited on the 20 or so tables. through a hatch in the wall you could catch a glance of the two women who were busy preparing fish and shellfish in the kitchen.
We had cooked cold mussles covered in chopped red onion and lime for starters, and a plate with ceviche, sweet potatoe and a type of white corn. The ceviche was raw cubes of Marlin (swordfish) in a delicious lime, chili and coriander marinade. To drink with that: Peruvian beer, of course. Less obvious is the beer´s name: Pilsen. I also got to taste a non-alcoholic drink made from boiled black/deep purple corn with added sugar. Also quite nice.
After lunch Michael sadly had to go earn his living, and I made my first trip alone on one of the mini buses (nicknamed killer buses) which are actually not as bad as the name might suggest. They cost 1 sol for trips even more than 45 minutes long. You have to put up with all kinds of beggars and salesmen getting on and giving a speach about why they deserve to relieve you of some of your fortune.
Now I should go home and decide what we´re having for dinner, and then read through some of the university information.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Day 21, Cacti and hot water issues
Peruvian internet cafés, much like many others are often populated by 11-year-olds getting very loud and excited over games like Lemmings or Quake...which can be a bit stressful when you are trying to cope with a keyboard whose settings do not correspond to its labels, printing important pdfs and understanding Spanish messages about potential viruses on the computer!
San Miguel is a rather non-touristy place. At a first glance from our HUGE balcony, it looks like a pile of rubble/construction yard with some streets. But when you take your time, you start to notice trees, flowers, decorative windows, carefully arranged flower pots and little bakeries. Down the avenue somewhere behind the next six or so blocks of buildings, you can make out the sea, and some very tall islands. In the other direction lies San Miguel Plaza, with a big shopping mall, DIY stores and supermarkets, as well as the language institute where Michael submitted my CV a year ago.
The flat, located on the fifth and top floor, is very nice, albeit slightly empty still. Yesterday and this morning we did our best to fill the vast balcony - we went plant shopping. Now we have various herbs, a hibiscus and some green things as well as a cactus, which Michael insisted on getting, and keeps injuring himself on (not that ¨I told you so¨ would ever cross my mind). I am still coming to terms with the joys of Peruvian everyday life, like not having any hot water on tap. We only have an instant heater in the shower, said shower being earthed to the tap in the outdoor sink on the balcony!! I shall remember not to water the plants or do the laundry while Michael is having a shower... The tap in the kitchen is cold water only, so I insist on boiling water for washing up, which seems to irritate Michael slightly - he thinks it´s silly.
Today we also planted lots of seeds, like three different kinds of chili (aji), tomatoes and various flowers. The weather is nice and sunny, probably between 25 and 30 degrees. I think we´ll go inspect the seafront later, buy some food and get me a sim card for the phone, and maybe a USB stick. Am struggling with a full hard disk and lack of CD writer at the moment.
San Miguel is a rather non-touristy place. At a first glance from our HUGE balcony, it looks like a pile of rubble/construction yard with some streets. But when you take your time, you start to notice trees, flowers, decorative windows, carefully arranged flower pots and little bakeries. Down the avenue somewhere behind the next six or so blocks of buildings, you can make out the sea, and some very tall islands. In the other direction lies San Miguel Plaza, with a big shopping mall, DIY stores and supermarkets, as well as the language institute where Michael submitted my CV a year ago.
The flat, located on the fifth and top floor, is very nice, albeit slightly empty still. Yesterday and this morning we did our best to fill the vast balcony - we went plant shopping. Now we have various herbs, a hibiscus and some green things as well as a cactus, which Michael insisted on getting, and keeps injuring himself on (not that ¨I told you so¨ would ever cross my mind). I am still coming to terms with the joys of Peruvian everyday life, like not having any hot water on tap. We only have an instant heater in the shower, said shower being earthed to the tap in the outdoor sink on the balcony!! I shall remember not to water the plants or do the laundry while Michael is having a shower... The tap in the kitchen is cold water only, so I insist on boiling water for washing up, which seems to irritate Michael slightly - he thinks it´s silly.
Today we also planted lots of seeds, like three different kinds of chili (aji), tomatoes and various flowers. The weather is nice and sunny, probably between 25 and 30 degrees. I think we´ll go inspect the seafront later, buy some food and get me a sim card for the phone, and maybe a USB stick. Am struggling with a full hard disk and lack of CD writer at the moment.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Day 17, Brighton
Crisp air, blue skies and sunshine - why can't the United Kingdom always be like this?
Brighton is pretty nice, the pebble beach and the pier are beautiful. I found a new type of seashell that I haven't seen before. Yesterday I stayed inside for most of the day, enjoying Chinese pirate copy DVDs, mature cheddar and Dr Pepper...mmm. David was out working (in Luxembourg, Manchester and Aberdeen), so I had to fend for myself. He got back this afternoon and is sleeping like a baby. But soon we will have to head down to coop and get something to eat, so that I have the energy to cram my stuff back into the suitcase and get the taxi at 00.30. Oh, how I look forward to spending another 6 hours or so at Heathrow...!
Apparently, the KLM flight isn't non-stop Amsterdam-Lima after all; we will be refuelling in Bonaire.
By the way, I've finally managed to upload some pictures from Australia. They can be found at
http://picasaweb.google.com/johannaholmgren26
just like the other ones. I had planned to add captions about which poisonous snake the picture contains, but that will have to wait for a little while longer.
Brighton is pretty nice, the pebble beach and the pier are beautiful. I found a new type of seashell that I haven't seen before. Yesterday I stayed inside for most of the day, enjoying Chinese pirate copy DVDs, mature cheddar and Dr Pepper...mmm. David was out working (in Luxembourg, Manchester and Aberdeen), so I had to fend for myself. He got back this afternoon and is sleeping like a baby. But soon we will have to head down to coop and get something to eat, so that I have the energy to cram my stuff back into the suitcase and get the taxi at 00.30. Oh, how I look forward to spending another 6 hours or so at Heathrow...!
Apparently, the KLM flight isn't non-stop Amsterdam-Lima after all; we will be refuelling in Bonaire.
By the way, I've finally managed to upload some pictures from Australia. They can be found at
http://picasaweb.google.com/johannaholmgren26
just like the other ones. I had planned to add captions about which poisonous snake the picture contains, but that will have to wait for a little while longer.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Day 14, Packing AGAIN
Today is just a day of finishing off and packing. Madeleine phoned me to say she'd forgotten her mobile phone at work yesterday, and that was why she didn't get in touch. Instead I spent the whole afternoon in Manly, and even got to try out the waves at a beach that was closed to the public because you could get swept out to sea if you didn't know what you were doing. It was very nice, although the wind was cold.
Simon, Jess and I rounded off the evening with fish 'n chips at Manly wharf before the last ferry left. Due to engine failure just before Circular Quays I was blessed with an extra 35 minutes on the ferry, listening to some Arabs of great wit joking about the engine blowing up.
Today I've sorted through my luggage and taken out all the long-sleeved garments I have to be prepared for London, although I saw that today it's meant to be 19 degrees there.
I find it fascinating how the national express to Brighton might take anything from 2h 15 to just over 4 hours! Hopefully I'll be on the 6.35 one, with no waiting time in obscure parts of London (like Gatwick).
Simon, Jess and I rounded off the evening with fish 'n chips at Manly wharf before the last ferry left. Due to engine failure just before Circular Quays I was blessed with an extra 35 minutes on the ferry, listening to some Arabs of great wit joking about the engine blowing up.
Today I've sorted through my luggage and taken out all the long-sleeved garments I have to be prepared for London, although I saw that today it's meant to be 19 degrees there.
I find it fascinating how the national express to Brighton might take anything from 2h 15 to just over 4 hours! Hopefully I'll be on the 6.35 one, with no waiting time in obscure parts of London (like Gatwick).
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Day 13, Manly, Blue Mountains and IKEA
My last whole day in Australia! I can't believe how quickly the trip went by, but it did help that I contracted tonsillitis and had to rest on Wednesday. On Thursday I went to see the doctor, who was a nice Yogoslawian womanwith high regards for Swedish medical care. She gave me lots of penicillin, and then Gillian took me on a scenic drive to Wollongong. It was beautiful, both coming down through the forest and driving on the outside of the cliffs...at Stanwell we admired the hangliders' perfect control of their wings for a while. In Wollongong, where Gillian went to university, we parked and had lunch down by the beach. I had the very typical Australian dish Moussaka, haha. Well it was delicious!
After that we went up to Mt Keira to look at the panoramic views of the city. I also photographed some giant ferns which looked like they hadn't changed much since the dinosaurs were nibbling them.
I just had a look at the time on the computer, and realised that today we changed to summer time in Australia, so I have an hour less to write in this blog, before I meet Madeleine at Paddy's markets, and then go surfing in Manly!
Friday I felt much better, so went into town to actually walk up and down the streets of the centre...something I hadn't done much before, when I was mostly exploring the harbour.
I went into the Queen's building on George street, photographed lots of beautiful buildings and went strolling along Sydney Plaza. Then I had noodles at the Japanese Noodle Bar on York street, and went up to Sydney Observatory, which was built to signal the time to the City of Sydney and to all the navigators waiting on ships around the harbour.
In the late afternoon I took the ferry to Manly, and was met by Simon, who took me to a family dinner in honour of his granddad's birthday. I was sat opposite said grandfather and thus completely exposed to the 1001 questions he was keen to ask me...he was a darling though inquisitive, and the rest of the family was very nice. Simon's dad introduced me to the notion of "cleanskin wine": it's quality wine in unlabelled bottles sold at a cheaper price, which means that a delicious $22 bottle may cost $7. We had some lovely Shiraz.
After dinner at "Weakest Link" pace, Simon and I went to his flat and had a few drinks with flatmate Steve, and friends Scott and Sam. This flat overlooks Manly bay, and is very nice, apart from certain brown hard-shelled prehistoric invertebrates lurking in the corners! I'm hoping that the four floors beneath us in Lima will keep them away...
Going out in Manly was cool - we first had drinks in a bar called The Barking Frog, where Steve claimed that a certain Ms Hilton would probably want to be seen. I doubt it somehow, but the place was nice. We continued Ceruti's - a club that wouldn't play cheesy music to save their life, which was so refreshing after Germany (those Werder fan songs just don't do it for me)! Pure drum and bass... Once again I noted that the women were dressed to kill in this season's (horrible) flowery dresses and extremely high heels, and the guys slouched around in jeans, a dirty t-shirt and their last pair of shoes that don't threat to fall apart. How do men get away with it?
The next day, as everyday here in Australia, I woke up at 5.13 and twiddled my thumbs. The first ferry wasn't until 8.45, so I tried to sleep for a while, but then decided to walk down past the beach and cut across the town centre to the wharf. It was a beautiful morning and everybody was out either walking their dog or bringing their surf boards to the beach. On the ferry we early birds just spread out on the benches and soaked up the sun.
At Gillian's flat in Matraville, I quickly freshened up and then she, Jamie and their friend and I set off to see the Blue Mountains! After some power napping in the car, I was presented with some of the most stunning mountain views ever, at the Three Sisters. We drove around for a bit, and went into the Eucalyptus forest to Anvil Rock and some windswept "caves" - the stone here is so soft, that even the wind, given time, will create very artistic and organically looking shapes in the cliffs and rocks. Jamie and Gillian discovered a tiny insect which looked like nothing either of us has seen before. If you imagine an ant with white punk hair, or a miniature porcupine with white spikes, you may get the general idea... Then we saw some giant ants, of the type that will first bite you and then inject venom (I learned that in the Wildlife World).
We then had lunch in the little Bakehouse on Wentworth: I had exquisite quiche and the best lemon curd tart I have ever tasted.
The last viewpoint we visited was of Wentworth Falls. Hopefully I can post some pictures soon / it was truly amazing.
On returning to Sydney we swung by IKEA in order for my to buy some hering and meatballs for dinner. They didn't have any lingon jam, at which I was most appalled - but they did have JULMUST, probably the best drink in the world!! :)
After that we went up to Mt Keira to look at the panoramic views of the city. I also photographed some giant ferns which looked like they hadn't changed much since the dinosaurs were nibbling them.
I just had a look at the time on the computer, and realised that today we changed to summer time in Australia, so I have an hour less to write in this blog, before I meet Madeleine at Paddy's markets, and then go surfing in Manly!
Friday I felt much better, so went into town to actually walk up and down the streets of the centre...something I hadn't done much before, when I was mostly exploring the harbour.
I went into the Queen's building on George street, photographed lots of beautiful buildings and went strolling along Sydney Plaza. Then I had noodles at the Japanese Noodle Bar on York street, and went up to Sydney Observatory, which was built to signal the time to the City of Sydney and to all the navigators waiting on ships around the harbour.
In the late afternoon I took the ferry to Manly, and was met by Simon, who took me to a family dinner in honour of his granddad's birthday. I was sat opposite said grandfather and thus completely exposed to the 1001 questions he was keen to ask me...he was a darling though inquisitive, and the rest of the family was very nice. Simon's dad introduced me to the notion of "cleanskin wine": it's quality wine in unlabelled bottles sold at a cheaper price, which means that a delicious $22 bottle may cost $7. We had some lovely Shiraz.
After dinner at "Weakest Link" pace, Simon and I went to his flat and had a few drinks with flatmate Steve, and friends Scott and Sam. This flat overlooks Manly bay, and is very nice, apart from certain brown hard-shelled prehistoric invertebrates lurking in the corners! I'm hoping that the four floors beneath us in Lima will keep them away...
Going out in Manly was cool - we first had drinks in a bar called The Barking Frog, where Steve claimed that a certain Ms Hilton would probably want to be seen. I doubt it somehow, but the place was nice. We continued Ceruti's - a club that wouldn't play cheesy music to save their life, which was so refreshing after Germany (those Werder fan songs just don't do it for me)! Pure drum and bass... Once again I noted that the women were dressed to kill in this season's (horrible) flowery dresses and extremely high heels, and the guys slouched around in jeans, a dirty t-shirt and their last pair of shoes that don't threat to fall apart. How do men get away with it?
The next day, as everyday here in Australia, I woke up at 5.13 and twiddled my thumbs. The first ferry wasn't until 8.45, so I tried to sleep for a while, but then decided to walk down past the beach and cut across the town centre to the wharf. It was a beautiful morning and everybody was out either walking their dog or bringing their surf boards to the beach. On the ferry we early birds just spread out on the benches and soaked up the sun.
At Gillian's flat in Matraville, I quickly freshened up and then she, Jamie and their friend and I set off to see the Blue Mountains! After some power napping in the car, I was presented with some of the most stunning mountain views ever, at the Three Sisters. We drove around for a bit, and went into the Eucalyptus forest to Anvil Rock and some windswept "caves" - the stone here is so soft, that even the wind, given time, will create very artistic and organically looking shapes in the cliffs and rocks. Jamie and Gillian discovered a tiny insect which looked like nothing either of us has seen before. If you imagine an ant with white punk hair, or a miniature porcupine with white spikes, you may get the general idea... Then we saw some giant ants, of the type that will first bite you and then inject venom (I learned that in the Wildlife World).
We then had lunch in the little Bakehouse on Wentworth: I had exquisite quiche and the best lemon curd tart I have ever tasted.
The last viewpoint we visited was of Wentworth Falls. Hopefully I can post some pictures soon / it was truly amazing.
On returning to Sydney we swung by IKEA in order for my to buy some hering and meatballs for dinner. They didn't have any lingon jam, at which I was most appalled - but they did have JULMUST, probably the best drink in the world!! :)
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Day 11, A kingdom for some penicillin
No, I haven't contracted some exotic disease...but after swimming in the allegedly shark-infested waters of Adelaide, I did manage to get my usual sore throat verging on tonsillitis. Once Gillian wakes up, we will therefore go to the medical centre. In the meantime I'm just sitting here feeling sorry for myself.
On Tuesday I went to the amazing Sydney Zoo, a short ferry ride away from Circular Quays, on the other side of the harbour.
Yesterday I finally managed to get my hair cut, and got the usual "you really should be using this, this and this product to make your hair look better" grrrr.
Then I went home and slept for the rest of the afternoon until dinner was ready.
If all goes well today, we'll drive down to Wollongong, taking the scenic route along the coast, and have lunch there.
On Tuesday I went to the amazing Sydney Zoo, a short ferry ride away from Circular Quays, on the other side of the harbour.
Yesterday I finally managed to get my hair cut, and got the usual "you really should be using this, this and this product to make your hair look better" grrrr.
Then I went home and slept for the rest of the afternoon until dinner was ready.
If all goes well today, we'll drive down to Wollongong, taking the scenic route along the coast, and have lunch there.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Day 7, Adelaide
On Friday, I got up vewy vewy early and went to the airport, only to find out that 3 years in Scotland had done me no good - my flight was actually at 8.30 PM, instead of AM. Oh well, I put the suitcase in a luggage hold and went back into Sydney and Darling Harbour to visit Sydney Wildlife World, which was very nice indeed. I got to see the biggest type of cockroach and the most poisonous snake in the world, along with butterflies, goannas, possums, koalas and wallabies.
After that, I took the ferry to Manly, Sydney's seaside resort, filled with surfers and with its very own Bavarian "beer cafe". The coastline from Sydney to Manly is beautiful cliffs (sandstone, I think) and pine forest, but the ocean beach is pure white sand. I could see why it would be nice to spend your year abroad there! On the ferry back to Circular Quay, we encountered some heavy rain. Watching the dark clouds draw nearer, the Americans on board did not fail to point out that they'd never been in a real storm before...I sat and enjoyed the shower together with some Australian guys for a while, until it got silly wet, and then joined the more sensible crowd indoors.
An eventless 90-minute bus ride took me back to the airport, where I hung around awaiting my flight, which was an Airbus 320, the most uncomfortable airplane I've ever sat in. My seat neighbours were very nice: the woman on my left offered me her tabloid which she claimed would make for more interesting reading than the inflight magazine. Very thoughtful of her, but I beg to differ...I could almost feel my mind rotting away while reading about Tom Cruise gaining weight. I managed to sleep through the drinks service somehow, which was probably expensive anyway, and woke up in time to "enjoy" the half hour of steep descent into Adelaide. The guy on my left very kindly gave me a brief guided tour of the city as we came in, also pointing out the spanking new IKEA store next to the airport. I tell you, in a clever stealth operation staged by this furniture producer, we Swedes will take over the world, making rotted herring and flatpacked shelves with one screw missing the new global culture some day soon!
In the airport, I was met by lovely Christina and her two friends, Duncan and James who were sitting in the bar with a G&T ready for me - now there's what I call a welcome! A taxi ride and a shower later, we walked down Jetty road in Glenelg to inspect the local nightlife. We ended up at the Grand, but did not stay too long.
Yesterday had an early start with grapefruit and vegemite toast. We were then picked up at 9.10 by Anna, a girl from Lulea in Sweden, and went to prepare for the "Viking party" of the Southern Australia Swedish Club. Venue: the German Shepherd Club. Expected number of people: 85. Having peeled potatoes, sliced lettuce and watched Bosse install pig and lamb on a spit, Christina and I were dropped off in Glenelg again, where we went to her work (Oyster bar)to have lunch, which consisted of deep-fried oysters in batter, chips and sweet chili sauce, and thai fish cakes - yumm!
The party was a great success, however without the excesses normally associated with vikings...I learned that many Swedes arrived in Adelaide working for Kockums, and a lot of them are now members of the Swedish club. There were many different family constellations: one Canadian hat met a Swedish girl on their years abroad, and they have now started a family in Adelaide. It was funny with all the bilingual children running around asking for hot dogs and juice.
We managed to finish tidying the place up for around midnight, went home and got changed, and then Christina and I joined some of the younger Swedish club members at one of the pubs on the Jetty. Unfortunately the pubs close between 12 and 2, so then the choice was between getting a taxi to the city centre, or go home. Absolutely exhausted, we decided to go home.
Today I met Christina's "mum and dad" from when she was an exchange student in high school. The two of us had a late lunch in cafe Illy down by the sea, I bought some postcards and flip flops (tongs), and Christina is now having a nap on the porch (well, as I'm typing this, she got woken up by the phone). Tonight I'm being taken to a nice restaurant in downtown Adelaide, and then we're going out for one last night of limitless debauchery (well...) before I catch the plane back to Sydney tomorrow afternoon.
Today I also spoke to Gillian, my penpal of 16 years, on the phone for the first time, and we agreed that she should pick me up from the airport tomorrow. She suggested that we go up to the Blue Mountains, which I look forward to!
After that, I took the ferry to Manly, Sydney's seaside resort, filled with surfers and with its very own Bavarian "beer cafe". The coastline from Sydney to Manly is beautiful cliffs (sandstone, I think) and pine forest, but the ocean beach is pure white sand. I could see why it would be nice to spend your year abroad there! On the ferry back to Circular Quay, we encountered some heavy rain. Watching the dark clouds draw nearer, the Americans on board did not fail to point out that they'd never been in a real storm before...I sat and enjoyed the shower together with some Australian guys for a while, until it got silly wet, and then joined the more sensible crowd indoors.
An eventless 90-minute bus ride took me back to the airport, where I hung around awaiting my flight, which was an Airbus 320, the most uncomfortable airplane I've ever sat in. My seat neighbours were very nice: the woman on my left offered me her tabloid which she claimed would make for more interesting reading than the inflight magazine. Very thoughtful of her, but I beg to differ...I could almost feel my mind rotting away while reading about Tom Cruise gaining weight. I managed to sleep through the drinks service somehow, which was probably expensive anyway, and woke up in time to "enjoy" the half hour of steep descent into Adelaide. The guy on my left very kindly gave me a brief guided tour of the city as we came in, also pointing out the spanking new IKEA store next to the airport. I tell you, in a clever stealth operation staged by this furniture producer, we Swedes will take over the world, making rotted herring and flatpacked shelves with one screw missing the new global culture some day soon!
In the airport, I was met by lovely Christina and her two friends, Duncan and James who were sitting in the bar with a G&T ready for me - now there's what I call a welcome! A taxi ride and a shower later, we walked down Jetty road in Glenelg to inspect the local nightlife. We ended up at the Grand, but did not stay too long.
Yesterday had an early start with grapefruit and vegemite toast. We were then picked up at 9.10 by Anna, a girl from Lulea in Sweden, and went to prepare for the "Viking party" of the Southern Australia Swedish Club. Venue: the German Shepherd Club. Expected number of people: 85. Having peeled potatoes, sliced lettuce and watched Bosse install pig and lamb on a spit, Christina and I were dropped off in Glenelg again, where we went to her work (Oyster bar)to have lunch, which consisted of deep-fried oysters in batter, chips and sweet chili sauce, and thai fish cakes - yumm!
The party was a great success, however without the excesses normally associated with vikings...I learned that many Swedes arrived in Adelaide working for Kockums, and a lot of them are now members of the Swedish club. There were many different family constellations: one Canadian hat met a Swedish girl on their years abroad, and they have now started a family in Adelaide. It was funny with all the bilingual children running around asking for hot dogs and juice.
We managed to finish tidying the place up for around midnight, went home and got changed, and then Christina and I joined some of the younger Swedish club members at one of the pubs on the Jetty. Unfortunately the pubs close between 12 and 2, so then the choice was between getting a taxi to the city centre, or go home. Absolutely exhausted, we decided to go home.
Today I met Christina's "mum and dad" from when she was an exchange student in high school. The two of us had a late lunch in cafe Illy down by the sea, I bought some postcards and flip flops (tongs), and Christina is now having a nap on the porch (well, as I'm typing this, she got woken up by the phone). Tonight I'm being taken to a nice restaurant in downtown Adelaide, and then we're going out for one last night of limitless debauchery (well...) before I catch the plane back to Sydney tomorrow afternoon.
Today I also spoke to Gillian, my penpal of 16 years, on the phone for the first time, and we agreed that she should pick me up from the airport tomorrow. She suggested that we go up to the Blue Mountains, which I look forward to!
Friday, October 20, 2006
Day 5, Headed for Adelaide
Two words: Sydney. Amazing.
Right, I realize there is a slight gap in events here, and it's due to my lack of access to Internet and A computer where I can upload pictures. Hopefully I will be able to correct this soon.
For the moment, all I can say before my credit at the airport internet thingy runs out is that Sydney is great...I've seen so many cool things already, and it was really nice to meet up with high school friend Madeleine again after so long.
In an hour or so, I'll be on the plane to Adelaide to meet up with Christina and attend a viking party with 85 odd people tomorrow night.
Three great things about Sydney:
- lots of public toilets, and they're all free as well as clean
- the beach is almost always within 5 or 10 minutes on foot
- public transport works! and it includes ferries to all sorts of odd little quays and marinas!
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Day 3, Sydney Airport
I survived the seemingly endless flight! And we refuelled in Singapore, not Kuala Lumpur as I had been claiming. Sydney is overcast with about 18 degrees at 6.30 in the morning...
I've bought an Australian Vodafone prepaid card, so if anyone should feel thus inclined, the number is 0061 424 32 90 54.
Now I'm off to meander! First I have to figure out public transport - joy.
I could incidentally kill for a shower, but have no towel or shampoo, so that'll have to wait.
------------------------------------
Would you believe that I spent the better part of 3 hours in Sydney airport!
I finally got hold of Madeleine and acquired directions to her house. I also finally had a shower (free! in the airport) with newly purchased towel + shampoo. I exchanged my last euros and at the same time established the exchange rate SEK/AUS$ (5.7/1). Great. For someone who can just about manage multiplications by 2 or 10, not such good news. Never mind. The Travelex guy told me he had a Greek cousin who'd played an Arab guy in a Swedish film, which I can't remember the name of. Good movie though.
I then went back to the very helpful young man at the information desk, who told me which bus to get to Bondi Junction in the Eastern suburbs. The bus cost about 25% of the train ticket fare, but lasted an eternity (45 minutes). However, what better way to spend your first morning in Sydney than 'cruising' round the suburbs watching people and building. For example, I deduced that there is a large Greek community in Southern Sydney, close to the airport - lots of Greek restaurants, but also other buildings with Greek writing all over them.
In the village of Kingsford, I particularly liked thead outside a church: "EXPOSURE TO THE SON MAY PREVENT BURNING". hehe. Try translating that!
Now I'm sat in the Bondi Junction shopping centre, and yes I'm sad to say, in the upstairs McDonald's - but hey, they do have the best view over the harbour from this particular spot,and their cappuccino was gorgeous (at least after 33 hours of airplane tea).
I love it how all the houses are pretty unique and embedded in lush vegetation and strikingly coloured flowers and bushes like bougainvilleas, lots of trees and palms that remind me of the South of Spain, and some leefless tree that looks like a cloud of blue flowers (jacarandas).
This mixture covers the hilly geography of suburban Sydney in the nicest possible way, and is only interrupted by the sea.
------------------------------------
Walking along the shores of Woolombooloo Bay, where I met Simon for lunch (pie from Harry's Cafe de Wheels - a Sydney institution) up to Mrs Macquarie's Point, and then turning around into Farm Cove, I can't help but thinking that Sydney's skyline is the most beautiful one I've ever seen. And I don't just mean the Opera House, which I am sitting opposite right now. Even the Deutsche Bank tower fits aesthetically in with the rest of the facades on the hill overlooking the Royal Botanic Gardens, the Domain and hyde Park.
I've bought an Australian Vodafone prepaid card, so if anyone should feel thus inclined, the number is 0061 424 32 90 54.
Now I'm off to meander! First I have to figure out public transport - joy.
I could incidentally kill for a shower, but have no towel or shampoo, so that'll have to wait.
------------------------------------
Would you believe that I spent the better part of 3 hours in Sydney airport!
I finally got hold of Madeleine and acquired directions to her house. I also finally had a shower (free! in the airport) with newly purchased towel + shampoo. I exchanged my last euros and at the same time established the exchange rate SEK/AUS$ (5.7/1). Great. For someone who can just about manage multiplications by 2 or 10, not such good news. Never mind. The Travelex guy told me he had a Greek cousin who'd played an Arab guy in a Swedish film, which I can't remember the name of. Good movie though.
I then went back to the very helpful young man at the information desk, who told me which bus to get to Bondi Junction in the Eastern suburbs. The bus cost about 25% of the train ticket fare, but lasted an eternity (45 minutes). However, what better way to spend your first morning in Sydney than 'cruising' round the suburbs watching people and building. For example, I deduced that there is a large Greek community in Southern Sydney, close to the airport - lots of Greek restaurants, but also other buildings with Greek writing all over them.
In the village of Kingsford, I particularly liked thead outside a church: "EXPOSURE TO THE SON MAY PREVENT BURNING". hehe. Try translating that!
Now I'm sat in the Bondi Junction shopping centre, and yes I'm sad to say, in the upstairs McDonald's - but hey, they do have the best view over the harbour from this particular spot,and their cappuccino was gorgeous (at least after 33 hours of airplane tea).
I love it how all the houses are pretty unique and embedded in lush vegetation and strikingly coloured flowers and bushes like bougainvilleas, lots of trees and palms that remind me of the South of Spain, and some leefless tree that looks like a cloud of blue flowers (jacarandas).
This mixture covers the hilly geography of suburban Sydney in the nicest possible way, and is only interrupted by the sea.
------------------------------------
Walking along the shores of Woolombooloo Bay, where I met Simon for lunch (pie from Harry's Cafe de Wheels - a Sydney institution) up to Mrs Macquarie's Point, and then turning around into Farm Cove, I can't help but thinking that Sydney's skyline is the most beautiful one I've ever seen. And I don't just mean the Opera House, which I am sitting opposite right now. Even the Deutsche Bank tower fits aesthetically in with the rest of the facades on the hill overlooking the Royal Botanic Gardens, the Domain and hyde Park.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Day 1, Heathrow
Well, leaving from Copenhagen was lovely, as always. The check-in lady was a darling and gave me the best seat on the airplane (well, in economy, anyway) because I waited while she showed some trainees how to handle an Australian check-in...the new electronic visas are so cool, by the way!
Arriving and transferring in Heathrow was a nightmare...cattle would have been apalled at the level of service and the queue bending around corners without AC as well as tired and impolite staff at the security check.
Now I've been here for about three hours, and am boooored. Have bought "Heat" by George Monbiot, and am trying to resist the temptation to buy lots of Lonely Planet guides, although the one for Peru is definitely screaming my name from afar in W.H. Smith!
Still, I tend to think that guides are out of date by the time they're printed for the really useful information, and the rest you ought to find out by speaking to locals. Maybe I'm wrong, but at least that way I might learn Spanish. We'll see. Still no luck actually speaking to Madeleine, on whom I'd like to impose my first night in Sydney, and my arriving at an ungodly hour there (5.15 am) doesn't help.
I also have the sneaky feeling that I'm a) badly prepared for this trip b) helping to warm the planet (having started to read Monbiot's book) and c) have not brought nearly enough things for staying away from my home for 9 months (have you any idea how much fits into a 25 kg suitcase?? - hardly anything!! I had to send most of my shoes (yes, including my rugby prop boots) by mail, to avoid them taking up my entire allowance. And still, I feel like I've only brought one pair of socks and my web camera. Never mind, they're bound to have shops in Lima too!
Things to do still before the flight boards (in approx. 3 hours):
Arriving and transferring in Heathrow was a nightmare...cattle would have been apalled at the level of service and the queue bending around corners without AC as well as tired and impolite staff at the security check.
Now I've been here for about three hours, and am boooored. Have bought "Heat" by George Monbiot, and am trying to resist the temptation to buy lots of Lonely Planet guides, although the one for Peru is definitely screaming my name from afar in W.H. Smith!
Still, I tend to think that guides are out of date by the time they're printed for the really useful information, and the rest you ought to find out by speaking to locals. Maybe I'm wrong, but at least that way I might learn Spanish. We'll see. Still no luck actually speaking to Madeleine, on whom I'd like to impose my first night in Sydney, and my arriving at an ungodly hour there (5.15 am) doesn't help.
I also have the sneaky feeling that I'm a) badly prepared for this trip b) helping to warm the planet (having started to read Monbiot's book) and c) have not brought nearly enough things for staying away from my home for 9 months (have you any idea how much fits into a 25 kg suitcase?? - hardly anything!! I had to send most of my shoes (yes, including my rugby prop boots) by mail, to avoid them taking up my entire allowance. And still, I feel like I've only brought one pair of socks and my web camera. Never mind, they're bound to have shops in Lima too!
Things to do still before the flight boards (in approx. 3 hours):
- drink lots of water
- eat aspirin
- put on Swedish pharmacy support stockings
- not buy more books
Part 2
Having exhausted all other options for entertainment, I'm back at the computer with some more observations on Heathrow:
- my anti-environment side is enjoying not having to trace down the POS for each bottle that I buy (no "Pfand" system - yay!)
- Heathrow staff still haven't learned to say "Charles de Gaulle" without pronouncing the 'S' (ok I'm a language snob, what's your point?!). The French-speaking voice takes instant revenge by pronouncing British way in an unmistakeably French way. Hehe.
- to buy drinks a £1.20 from the vending machine, you need the exact change - which, of course means that most of us have to go buy something else to get the change, and thus probably buy the drink itself somewhere else.
- why are there so many people with an American accent working at the tills?
- why oh why can you not get Fisherman's Friend in the UK?
- the newly awakened Monbiot-reader in my was instantly apalled at the BBC announcement about Blair opening the new "Langeled" gas pipe from Norway to cut heating bills - thought about cutting consumption, hmm?
- also GNER owner has gone bancrupt, but "British train traffic won't be affected" - who are they trying to fool?
In Sweden the Minister of Trade has resigned, by the way, and not because she felt it was justified in view of her dodgy financial dealings, oh no: it was because "she couldn't handle the media pressure on her and her family". The Minister for Culture is being prosecuted for her financial mishaps (e.g. non-declared labour). Wonder if the "moderate" party would still win if there was a re-election this Sunday?!
Sunday, October 15, 2006
What´s going on?!
Last night, my brother got stabbed just outside the local shop.
I've never bin as scared as I was when we were waiting to speak to the hospital emergency staff.
He's ok, "just" a punctured lung.
I don't know how I'm meant to go to Australia now.
I've never bin as scared as I was when we were waiting to speak to the hospital emergency staff.
He's ok, "just" a punctured lung.
I don't know how I'm meant to go to Australia now.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Address in Peru
The last weekend in Sweden, and I'm quite nervous about everything and anything - I still haven't got insurance, but will sort that out tomorrow morning.
I've finally got my address for the next nine months:
Calle Puga de Lozada No 115
Departamento 501
San Miguel
Lima
However, there is apparently no mailbox there at the moment, so don't send any letters just yet...I'm sure I will understand how it all works once I've settled in...
I've found out that there is a university in my neighbourhood (http://www.munisanmiguel.gob.pe/index.php) - a private catholic university, but never mind. They offer courses in both Spanish and Quechua, so I'll try and convince them to accept me, although I'll be arriving a month into the courses (first classes were this week). I've also located the only(?) Irish pub in Lima, O'Murphy's (in Miraflores), so if López-Ebri stop sending me work I know where I'll be wiping tables...alternatively there is a pub where all the staff are volunteers, and where all the benefits go to charity:
http://www.voluntariospub.org/
Nice.
I'm getting excited about going now, finally!
Hmm, just have to finish this Danish proofreading job first. Right.
I've finally got my address for the next nine months:
Calle Puga de Lozada No 115
Departamento 501
San Miguel
Lima
However, there is apparently no mailbox there at the moment, so don't send any letters just yet...I'm sure I will understand how it all works once I've settled in...
I've found out that there is a university in my neighbourhood (http://www.munisanmiguel.gob.pe/index.php) - a private catholic university, but never mind. They offer courses in both Spanish and Quechua, so I'll try and convince them to accept me, although I'll be arriving a month into the courses (first classes were this week). I've also located the only(?) Irish pub in Lima, O'Murphy's (in Miraflores), so if López-Ebri stop sending me work I know where I'll be wiping tables...alternatively there is a pub where all the staff are volunteers, and where all the benefits go to charity:
http://www.voluntariospub.org/
Nice.
I'm getting excited about going now, finally!
Hmm, just have to finish this Danish proofreading job first. Right.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Wrist-slapping in the wake of Swedish elections
I'm not sure whether the news have travelled outside Sweden - we had an election in September, and a conservative coalition is now in power, having relieved the cocky, and in the eyes of the public, complacent social democrats of their duties. However, the new "PM", Reinfeldt, was in for a number of surprises which were unveiled this week;
- Two Ministers (Trade and Culture) hired non-declared nannies in the 1990s
- Several Ministers have refrained from paying TV licence for the last oh, 15 or so years(Trade, Culture (i.e. the head of public radio and tv channels!!!), Migration and Infrastructure), and only owned up to doing so once they had been appointed ministers last Friday.
- The Minister for the Environment had "problems" with declaring the right income in 1998
Obviously, the social democrats are outraged. Meanwhile, since the ministers confessed earlier this week, thousands of people have phoned to register the possession of a TV with the authorities this week (compared to a mere 50 per day, normally)
So far the ministers have got off with a "mea culpa" and a slap on the wrist each from the "PM".
- Two Ministers (Trade and Culture) hired non-declared nannies in the 1990s
- Several Ministers have refrained from paying TV licence for the last oh, 15 or so years(Trade, Culture (i.e. the head of public radio and tv channels!!!), Migration and Infrastructure), and only owned up to doing so once they had been appointed ministers last Friday.
- The Minister for the Environment had "problems" with declaring the right income in 1998
Obviously, the social democrats are outraged. Meanwhile, since the ministers confessed earlier this week, thousands of people have phoned to register the possession of a TV with the authorities this week (compared to a mere 50 per day, normally)
So far the ministers have got off with a "mea culpa" and a slap on the wrist each from the "PM".
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Who needs anti-wrinkle cream?
Today's highlight in the sleeping suburbian paradise that is Skälderviken:
I was forced to go home and get my driver's licence when trying to purchase beer for me and my dad.
Fair enough, it's not the first time in the last three months that it's happened - but the other time I was buying several bottles of wine at Aldi.
Let's remember that Swedish shops are only allowed to sell "soft beer" - i.e. I was deemed too young to buy one six-pack of 3,5% beer...(8 years too young, to be exact)!
Today's question: can you bring pressurised cans of sunscreen to Australia, or do they explode in your suitcase while you're sipping your in-flight G&T? Hmmmm....
I was forced to go home and get my driver's licence when trying to purchase beer for me and my dad.
Fair enough, it's not the first time in the last three months that it's happened - but the other time I was buying several bottles of wine at Aldi.
Let's remember that Swedish shops are only allowed to sell "soft beer" - i.e. I was deemed too young to buy one six-pack of 3,5% beer...(8 years too young, to be exact)!
Today's question: can you bring pressurised cans of sunscreen to Australia, or do they explode in your suitcase while you're sipping your in-flight G&T? Hmmmm....
Monday, October 09, 2006
We have a flat!
As of yesterday, I have a flat to live in on arrival in Lima - yay!
It does very much sound too good to be true:
- size of flat: 100 m2
- size of balcony: 50m2(!)
- flooring: laminate (carpet in bedroom)
- distance to the Pacific Ocean: 6 blocks
- rent: $150/month
Admittedly, it's fifth floor with no lift, which is why I intend to arrive well AFTER the bed, the fridge, the cooker and the washing machine have all been installed! :)
It does very much sound too good to be true:
- size of flat: 100 m2
- size of balcony: 50m2(!)
- flooring: laminate (carpet in bedroom)
- distance to the Pacific Ocean: 6 blocks
- rent: $150/month
Admittedly, it's fifth floor with no lift, which is why I intend to arrive well AFTER the bed, the fridge, the cooker and the washing machine have all been installed! :)
Sunday, October 08, 2006
Rugby in Bremen
Nie hätte ich mir vorstellen können, dass einen ovalen Ball auf einem harten Feld rumjagen so viel spass machen könnte!
Aber, Rugby ist natürlich so viel mehr als das:
- entdecken, dass man weder laufen noch passen kann, und erst recht nicht beides auf ein Mal
- neuen Stellen auf seinem eigenen Körper entdecken, und zwar durch Muskelkater und blauen Flecken
- anatomische Begriffe lernen, sowie "Sprunggelenk" und "Bandriss"
- sich von Klaas anschreien und neuen Namen erfinden lassen
- viele neue, liebe Leute kennenlernen, und viel zu viel Bier (und, leider, Kornschorle) trinken
Hier folgen die versprochenen Fotos von
Miriams und Björns Abschied (Michaels Bilder)
In English: the following photographs are from goodbye parties with the rugby team I joined in Bremen in April - for those who'd rather not see Björn nigh-naked - hold one hand in front of the screen, or avoid looking at that album! (e.g. Firas!)
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Neuwerk
I set out with Geert and Michael on Saturday to join the others, who had left on Friday morning. Us having to work for a living, plus me with my bad ankle, we had decided against hiking all the way out to the island over the tidal plains. After a very predictable last-minute "please could you get us some food" call from the guys on Neuwerk, and quick trips to Könecke sausage outlet and Aldi, we made our way onto the motorway to Cuxhaven. After approx. two hours driving across long-converted marshlands, we arrived at the island-goers parking space in Sahlenburg which costs €3 per day, but where the parking ticket machine accepts neither banknotes nor any form of bankcard! We threw in our last cents and hoped for the best. Down by the beach we found ourselves reducing the average age of the crowd waiting for the horse coaches by about 25 years. The weather was nice though, and the view beautiful. Grassy sand dunes stretching out to the left and right, and out there by the horizon, the island. People preferring to stay on the mainland could rent a "beach basket" which did not mean a picnic basket for the day. Instead it referred to miniature beach huts painted yellow, basically a reinforced sofa with striped lining, into which two people would fit at a push. Nice! After a little wait, the horse coaches and the trailers pulled by tractors arrived. At first we were worried that we'd get loaded with the luggage onto some closed trailer and be told to lie still. But no, some of the trailers had benches and open holes, so that you could at least get quick glances of the scenery. After waiting some more while the island people coordinated the transport, we were off! Driving out through the "harbour", past the last enthusiastic hikers, we watched Sahlenburg getting smaller and smaller while Michael offered everyone sat on the padded boards in the trailer some Haribo bears. The offer was graciously accepted by Geert, two small girls and me. The "path" to Neuwerk was marked on both sides by bundled branches stuck deep into the sand, and, at the end of the summer, covered in green seaweed and barnacles. These are replaced ever spring to make it easier for the tractor drivers and horse coaches. The ground between them is pretty hard, like a proper gravel road in places. Outside them, it's anybody's guess whether you'll be knee-deep in mud, slime and seaweed or not. After we passed one of the deeper channels (Priel), the guide of one of the hiker groups made sure we took some children onboard, as time was running out and they would not be able to cross the next channel except swimming. That is one of the most tricky parts of crossing on foot – no matter how far out the actual sea is, you never know how deep the channels are going to be (unless you've listened to the right people), and there are at least five of them to cross. Beside each channel, rescue towers proudly stand 5-7 meters tall, with a cage on top (reminded me of that man, David Blaine, in his cage above the Thames). We eventually set wheel on Neuwerk, after lots more shaking and bumping, and I for one welcomed the pleasure of tarmac under the trailer. Passing the well where hikers wash their boots/bare feet and rest their wary limbs, as well as the first (there are at least three) pub, a ninety-degree turn took us to the barn were we had reserved our hay. After dropping our bags and said purchased food, we discovered the first victim of the night before, in a sleeping bag at 14.30! (R) The others were bravely jogging around somewhere on the island. A walk on top of the embankment around the island lasted about 45 minutes at a slow pace, and took us past the amber museum&gallery, the pigs, some more pubs/restaurants, the lighthouse and the island school. I remember thinking "this is all very charming now, in sunlight, but when the winds are blowing 25/s in January, I bet they're dreaming of overcrowded beaches in Florida" or something to that effect. Well, after the guys had been running around sweating for a while, we pulled out the bbq and the bottles of red wine and enjoyed ourselves. We even went to the pub where Moritz once again tried to convince Michael and me of the virtues of Korn-Schorle (needless to say, without success). The coolest thing in the pub - in my opinion anyway - were the pint glasses with little horse coaches printed on them.
We then went back and tried to convert water into wine. This failing, the men turned their interest to the (98% female) company party installed upstairs in the barn. I remember stepping onto the embankment for two minutes, and when I got back, all the guys (apart from Geert and Klaas who had sensibly retreated to their sleeping bags) were balancing stark naked on the emergency staircase at the short end of the barn. I'm not sure where my camera was at that moment, but I'm sad to say I failed to secure evidence. Nevertheless, I'm sure you can all picture it! The girls were very generous with their miniature bottles of pflaumenschnapps???, and so the rest is history.
I was very impressed with the guys being able to practise the next day, especially given the weather mix: drizzle/downpour. I was grateful there were a coke bottle dispenser close at hand, a big umbrella and a plastic armchair underneath it! As for our return...the bravest/craziest people left around lunchtime to brave the sands again - the daughter of the innkeeper later said she was certain at least one of them would have continued no matter what because "he had that wild look in his eyes" (we assumed she meant René) – the rest of us awaited the channel depth figures, which were announced over AM radio. Geert managed to secure the last free seat in a horse coach. Until scant minutes before our departure, it was still not sure whether the tractor would leave or not – there was not enough wind, so the tide had been too weak. That meant that the channels would be 2-3 meters deep, a big no-go for tractor engines! Just before 14:00 we left, keeping an eye out for our determined hikers. However, our trip was cut short. At the first channel, we caught up with the other tractors whose drivers were still waiting for the water to leave. Around them, hikers crowded to see what was happening. After a while, the message passed around that the water, normally at that time at its low, was already coming back in. As the most reckless of the drivers announced that he wouldn't risk it, all of the others turned around as well, shouting at the hikers as we drove past. And that was that. We went back for some pizza and cake, and a game Mensch ärgere dich nicht during which people promptly became annoyed and refused to continue to play. As we finally boarded the ferry, the sun had come out again. I was very impressed with the sweets selection on board (Fazer and Turkish pepper!). Cuxhaven by night was very nice, for the whole 15 minutes it took us to walk to the train station. Just before midnight, the windswept rugby players+Swedish groupie stepped out of the train in Bremen Hbf.
We then went back and tried to convert water into wine. This failing, the men turned their interest to the (98% female) company party installed upstairs in the barn. I remember stepping onto the embankment for two minutes, and when I got back, all the guys (apart from Geert and Klaas who had sensibly retreated to their sleeping bags) were balancing stark naked on the emergency staircase at the short end of the barn. I'm not sure where my camera was at that moment, but I'm sad to say I failed to secure evidence. Nevertheless, I'm sure you can all picture it! The girls were very generous with their miniature bottles of pflaumenschnapps???, and so the rest is history.
I was very impressed with the guys being able to practise the next day, especially given the weather mix: drizzle/downpour. I was grateful there were a coke bottle dispenser close at hand, a big umbrella and a plastic armchair underneath it! As for our return...the bravest/craziest people left around lunchtime to brave the sands again - the daughter of the innkeeper later said she was certain at least one of them would have continued no matter what because "he had that wild look in his eyes" (we assumed she meant René) – the rest of us awaited the channel depth figures, which were announced over AM radio. Geert managed to secure the last free seat in a horse coach. Until scant minutes before our departure, it was still not sure whether the tractor would leave or not – there was not enough wind, so the tide had been too weak. That meant that the channels would be 2-3 meters deep, a big no-go for tractor engines! Just before 14:00 we left, keeping an eye out for our determined hikers. However, our trip was cut short. At the first channel, we caught up with the other tractors whose drivers were still waiting for the water to leave. Around them, hikers crowded to see what was happening. After a while, the message passed around that the water, normally at that time at its low, was already coming back in. As the most reckless of the drivers announced that he wouldn't risk it, all of the others turned around as well, shouting at the hikers as we drove past. And that was that. We went back for some pizza and cake, and a game Mensch ärgere dich nicht during which people promptly became annoyed and refused to continue to play. As we finally boarded the ferry, the sun had come out again. I was very impressed with the sweets selection on board (Fazer and Turkish pepper!). Cuxhaven by night was very nice, for the whole 15 minutes it took us to walk to the train station. Just before midnight, the windswept rugby players+Swedish groupie stepped out of the train in Bremen Hbf.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
On leaving Bremen
For my first venture into blogging, I've chosen to borrow the eloquence of someone else. It expresses my emotions about this latest move quite accurately.
I hope I'm not infringing on any (expensive) copyright laws.
Leaving and Leaving You
When I leave your postcode and your commuting station,
When I leave undone the things that we planned to do
You may feel you have been left by association
But there is leaving and there is leaving you.
When I leave your town and the club that you belong to,
When I leave without much warning or much regret
Remember, there's doing wrong and there's doing wrong to You,
which I'll never do and I haven't yet.
And when I have gone, remember that in weighing
Everything up, from love to cheaper rent,
You were all the reasons I thought of staying
And you were none of the reasons why I went
And although I leave your sight and I leave your setting
And our separation is soon to be a fact,
Though you stand beside what I'm leaving and forgetting,
I'm not leaving you, not if motive makes the act.
(Sophie Hannah)
I hope I'm not infringing on any (expensive) copyright laws.
Leaving and Leaving You
When I leave your postcode and your commuting station,
When I leave undone the things that we planned to do
You may feel you have been left by association
But there is leaving and there is leaving you.
When I leave your town and the club that you belong to,
When I leave without much warning or much regret
Remember, there's doing wrong and there's doing wrong to You,
which I'll never do and I haven't yet.
And when I have gone, remember that in weighing
Everything up, from love to cheaper rent,
You were all the reasons I thought of staying
And you were none of the reasons why I went
And although I leave your sight and I leave your setting
And our separation is soon to be a fact,
Though you stand beside what I'm leaving and forgetting,
I'm not leaving you, not if motive makes the act.
(Sophie Hannah)
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