Flashing Peruvian Farmers. And their Cows.

Just so that I can provide evidence of how outdoorsy I have been in South America I think I should note that I have sat on a night bus drinking a large bottle of red wine with my new best friend, Rahki ,and Martin, our exceptionally young tour guide. I have also been in a teeny tiny plane with with people vommitting while I was trying to keep my own dinner down and enjoy the not as large as I expected Nasca Lines.

I went on a boat trip to see animals where my seat broke and I was a little perturbed at teh thought of falling through the boat floor into the freezing water.

I went sandboarding and hooned through sand dunes in a very unstable car looking contraption.

And that brings me to the white water rafting today. I like white water rafting. It is fun. Less fun is needing to go to the loo half way through when you´re wearing a wet suit and one piece swimsuit. My very nice rafting instructor (is itcompulsory that all rafting instructors be super cute?) allowed us to ´pull over´ so I could use the facilities. But not before he asked me for the recipe for pavlova. So, he pointed up a hill, a steep hill, which for some reasons I decided to climb with my oar, and I ended up in a large field.

So I felt it was pertinent to yell down ´Where?´ to which he responded Ánywhere´. So there I was, in a field. With cows. Trying to decide where to best hide myself. Obviously I didn´t do a very good job of this as I had just pulled down my bathers when I realised the cows were, in fact, accompanied by a Peruvian farmer. Who was herding them or something. And who I had just managed to flash.

Anyway, white water rafting was fun. When Sarah fell in, her boyfriend Scott didn´t move to pull her in but instead shouted ´Don´t worry honey, I have the oar´ which I am sure won´t make him that popular. The water was freezing. There were beautiful volcanoes in the background, and you could see the snow on top that fed the river. Absolutely stunning.

Off to check out the sights of Arequepia and head to a discoteque. Hopefully with the guys from the rafting company.

At at least I am making friends with the natives. And their cows.

Visiting the Spanish Inquisition

I am in Peru where I am feeling slightly less tall and slightly more damp. I swear, if I saw blue sky it would be a miracle. Enjoying Lima enough. It's hard because all the bits of the city that are safe and that the guide books recommend are the old parts. Which really are lovely. But lets face it, the old parts aren't likely to be able to compete with the 'old parts' of Europe so it just feels a bit pointless. And because I want to leave Lima with all my money and credit cards, I am not particularly inclined to just go wandering about by myself in areas that are designated as dodgy. Just a personal preference.

I went to the Inquisition Museum today to avoid the rain. One of the tortures tastefully reconstructed with wax figures was especially for women only. They lay you on a bech, put a large rock in your mouth and poured water over it to simulate a drowning sensation. Sound familiar? All I am saying is that if the Inquisition thought this was a form of torture, along side burning the bottom of the feet and stretching you on the rack then Ashcroft, Rummy, Bush etc really need meds for delusion. Or a history lesson. Possibly with pseudo-realistic wax sculptures.

I was sad to leave Quito - I had just felt like I was settling in to the school and learning enough Spanish to not look like a complete moron all the time. In fact, I learnt enough Spanish that I help a (bad) conversation for 40 minutes with the woman who drove me to the hotel from the Lima airport. I discovered that we had EXACTLY the same birthday.

Snap Judgement for the Day
I am doing a tour for a while in Peru and Bolivia and was checking out the list of names that were posted on the board. I noted the following:
1. I am the ONLY one not described with a Ms/Miss/Mrs; and
2. Most of the group is married to each other.
So, I am now imagining myself in a group of over 50s but I will be the under 30 not hauling my butt up the Inca trail, but instead catching the train. Ah well.

Una, Dos, Tres...dance, dance dance.

In my last post I mentioned my lack of rythym and how the verb bailar (to dance) was unlikely to be very useful to me because of it. Somehow, this didn't actually stop me from showing up in the Latin Dance class the school runs every Thursday.

I should clarify that 'showing up' really means 'was dragged up the stairs by my teacher because they were one girl short and I was the only Chicka left in the school'. Talk about desperation. And where in the world, may I ask, is a dance class one GIRL short? If I learnt anything from Strictly Ballroom it's that girls are always doomed to dance with other girls. And Scott will be really mean to you about it when you ask to dance with him at the Pan Pacifics.

Anyway, it was fun, I managed not to maim anyone. In fact I was twirling like a pro in the end and even stopped leading. I think it{s really unfair to teach you the steps one way for 30 minutes, then make the girls do it all backwards. It is very confusing. It was made worse by teh fact the class was in Spanish and half the time I was confused about which way we were supposed to be going. If nothing else, however, I will now be able to count up to 7.

As a side note, wearing thermal underwear to dance class on a warm day was not one of my better ideas.

Went to Otalavalo last weekend were I went to an animal market (weird) and an 'indigensou crafts' market. I use inverted comas because I am not entirely convinced that people who buy live guinea pig to eat have a giant weaving thingy in their back shed to mass produce the lovely, authentic table clothes.

Went to the middle of the world and stood on the fake equator. And the allegedly real equator. Went up the Teleferiqo and saw Cotopaxi which was very, very cool. Apparently the mountain would be covered with snow if it was anywhere else in the world, because it is 4100m above sea level, but being equatorial, it is lush and green. Crazy!

I am actually very sad to be leaving Quito. Just got settled here, met heaps of great people and now I am heading off to Lima. And I hardly speak any Spanish. Argh!! Ah well. There are nice people everywhere. Except Romania, which I am still holding a deep seeded grudge against.

Functionally Illiterate

Does anyone know how many verbs there are?!?!? All these yars I have been taking verbs for granted, not knowing that I was almost functionally illiterate in my own language. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE??!?!

So, in Spanish I can say I am doing something if it is going somewhere, eating, drinking or dancing. Given my sense of rythym is zero, the last is not particulalry useful. And I can't have done it in the past. I have to be doing it or going to do it. Argh!!! This is killing me. I am a verbal person and my responses are stunted to saying I like things and talking about my family.

We've just done a test on which I managed to not recognise the sentence for what is your name , describe Pedro as a dog when they really wanted words like tall, blonde etc and miss the point of one sentence so badly I actually got the answer right even though I was answering something else entirely. So this isn't going very well.

This afternoon we are heading to an Indiginous town for a very touristy market so I can buy a poncho to drag me out from my depression. Because, as we all know, you can't be unhappy in a poncho.

Rookie Mistake

I should also add that I don't look Latino because I am not a man.

The title of yesterday's post shoud have been 'I don't look Latina'. Which I realised about 10 minutes after leaving school.

Now I am going to conjugate verbs and learn the Spanish word for humourless.

I don't look Latino

SURPRISE!!! I bet wveryone at home is thinking, wow, that's really funny. Who would have thought Kate with her white skin and blue eyes wouldn't look Latino. Well I don't, and it appears to be attracting a lot of attention. The fact that I am at least half a foot taller than Ecuadorian women is probably part of it as well.

In general I can have a predisposition to worrying about the worst while hoping for the best. Which is kind've how I have ended up in Quito at an immersion language school for 2 weeks, staying with a host family that doesn't speak English and hoping that the 7 of 10 weeks of laguage classes I attended in London would be in some way useful. I was also not entirely sure that I didn't need a visa to get in here until the woman had put a computer print out perilously close to my 'DO NOT STAMP' page.

So I arrived on Friday night and discovered I would be staying with a woman named Venus (pronounced Vanoos but it took me 3 days to work that out) and began signalling in sign langauge immediately. After night of sleep and a sleep in to compensate for my 3am start, I managed to struggle downstairs in time to go to the mall. Anyway, I have managed to establish that her bird's name is Coco which is a start. We'll see.

After 5 days I have managed tof igure out how to have a warm shower.

I also signed up for a 'culture' course meaning I have lunch with teacher every day. Which means I am eating a lot of Ecuadorian food and using my 15 Spanish words to attempt to string coherent sentences together, while worrying that the lettuce will kill me, as the Lonely Planet guide suggested it would. But since I've seen Cuy cooked on sticks, whole pigs displayed on the road side and have eaten pretty much everything put in front of me because 'mi gusta mucho' is one of the few Spanish phrases I know, I think the lettuce will be the least of my worries.

I'm leaving my heart in San Francisco

I have just been to a restaurant called 'The Stinking Rose' which has the tagline 'we serve our garlic with food' or something similar. It was ace. Except that I have eaten so many carbs now I worry about my ability to fit in a plane seat. I am also concerned because I have to spend 15 of the next 24 hours on a plane. My sympathy for anyone who sits next to me.

But all this is really leading up to the fact that I have just had one of the best experiences of my trip so far. Today I went to City Lights Bookstore which has been a dream of mine since the 12th grade when I discovered Lawrence Ferlinghetti via a Morphine/Ferlinghetti spoken word piece that a girl I went to boarding school was given on a mix tape from her internet penfriend in England who later turned out to be a spoilt rich kid stoner who visited her in Australia and spent most of his time on the couch complaingin about the weather.

Anyway, I've loved Coney Island of the Mind for years. It's my favourite poem. I love it more than Howl. And there I was. In this seminal Beat bookstore that looks a lot like every other bookstore except for the fact that you're allowed to just sit and read.

And they sold copies of Bitch magazine.

So today has been a wonderful day. It really has. I can't properly explain why it was so amazing to be in that bookstore. I am a hopeless romantic. I build small things into big things. I can't help it. But I love that I ended my trip in the USA with that store.

In less than 12 hours I will be on a plane to South America.

So here are the Stats:
Car: Pontiac G6, Green
Miles: 4, 100 (6,598km)
States Visited: DC, New York, Illinois, Missouri, Mississippi, Tennessee, Louisiana, Texas, New Mexico, Nevada, California and probably others that I can't think of offhand.
Big Gulp's Drunk: 1
Number of Emergency Toilet stops: 3
Times Zones Confused: 1
Accidents: 0
Days Inn Frequented: 3
Psychics Visited: 1
Money spent on cosmetics and clothes: undisclosed
Famous People Seen: Jimmy Kimmel, Benjamin Bratt, Huey Lewis (but only because we were part of the live studio audience for Jimmy Kimmel Live) and that guy from the Today show in Australia who was doing a story at the Statue of Liberty when we were there.
Number of people who thought we were English: Everyone. Even the psychic who therefore ultimately undermined herself from the outset.
Number of crushes on Elvis: One big one.
Most Expensive Fuel Paid for: $4.29 per gallon
Most Overrated City: Los Angeles
Place I would most Like to Live: San Fran, Chicago, New York and Austin if it wasn't surrounded on all sides by the rest of Texas

I was going to end this with a Ferlinghetti poem, but then realised that was a bit wanky and everyone would groan inwardly. Besides, I couldn't be bothered typing it out in the correct form, which would defeat the purpose and intent of the poem and my quotation.

Flowers In Your Hair

I loved San Fran before we even got here. Any city that requires you drive through a cloud to get to it was always going to inspire a degree of enthusiasm that other cities couldn't.

Yesterday we did a quick look around, some shopping and walked up a massive hill. Unfortunately my stay here has been consumed by my need to get my articles docs signed before I end up in South America trying to explain things in Non-Spanish.

This morning I found myself at the Australian consulate where the woman who told me she could witness my documents, actually couldn't and that the Australian Consul was on vacation. She helpfully suggested I take a commuter flight to LA to get it done there. OR when I got to South America to go to Bueanos Aires and the consulate there. Which is actually on the OPPOSITE side of the continent to Quito which is where I head at 6:10am on Friday morning.

So - then I went to a Public Notary that was chosen purely on the basis that it was the closest to my hotel. Which is how I found myself sitting in a hardware store with Haj, the Notary who kept calling me 'Miss Lady', talking about good karma and saying that I had lovely Irish eyes. Even though I had explained that I was, in fact, Australian. He was very sweet - but it is a bit surreal that this lovely, strange old man whose career is largely in cutting keys actually held the key to my future admittance.

I love the vibe of San Fran. It's casual, relaxed, cool. The city is beautiful.

Agreeing With Death Cab

LA.

I don't know. I think it's funny that there are so many talented, wealthy, artistic people here but nothing about this city seems to say class or culture. There are no trees. They park their cars on the beach. The shopping isn't fun. Smog abounds. The driving is awful.

I had an okay time in LA. Maybe I was prejudiced from the outset. And I've been having a lot of flight/tour/legal practice board issues that somewhat culminated in LA. But they continued to San Fran and I love it here.

George Clooney has a nice hedge. But the stars' houses are meh.

So, to sum it up: I don't know why you'd want to live here.

Viva Las Vegas

Before we get to Vegas I would liketo detour to our National Parks Day where, in the space of a day, we saw the Painted Desert, the Petrified Forest (forest being a misnomer. This was the desert. There were no trees and petrified refers to old bits of wood lying about) and the Grand Canyon. The Grand Canyon was quite large. Very large. But because it's so big and it was way too hot to consider going down into it. Ultimately it really felt inaccessible and surreal. And because I havea mild fear of heights I spent most of my time trying to go to the edge without actually going to the edge. All photos have me looking vaguely petrified. Sarah did quite well considering she doesn't like nature.

Then we got to Williams where we stayed on the old Route 66 in a motel that invoked its name. It was old school. Less old school was the fake cowboy show that ran every night. Discovered that we'd been on the wrong time for almost 2 days because hte last time zone was a 2 hour change, not one. That was a bit weird.

Headed to Vegas the next day. Stayed at the Riviera which is where they shot the film 'Casino'. It was very old school. Went and saw 'Ka' which is a Cirque show. I don't think it needs to be said, but it was amazing. That was at the MGM Grand. We also went into a focus group for a TV show. In the feedback section I had no choice but to let them know I was very dsappointed with the blatant sexism, the perpetuation of the unattractive man/gorgeous woman syndrome and the fact that it was significantly worse than the BBC version of the same show, which I never really liked anyway. But I still got a half price Haagen Daas ice cream.

Had dinner at the Ballagio one night. Discovered that pokies aren't that much fun after a while. If you only play the penny ones, you never win much money and if you platy the dollar ones your money goes away too quickly. Minimum bet for most tables were $5 and I am a backpacker, so we mainly just wandered around looking nice until we got bored and went back to our lovely, but reasonably priced, hotel room.

Saw the Coke store. And another MMs world. Discovered the best hotels are the tackiest. Won a toy playing childrens games, which I preferred a lot more than the actual adult gambling. Sarah went on the New York New York roller coaster while I wn tokens on Deal or No Deal.

And that was Vegas. No partying. Very subdued. But it's definitely a cool place to hang out for a few days.