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Published: January 26th 2018
Unseasonably hot and humid today
I sit at the family dining table accompanied by the gentle tapping of a Danish keyboard. Beside me Ellen is studiously learning Spanish verb conjugations in silence; a prospect I can only dream of.
From the sixth floor flat we have a splendid view of the mountains across the lake.
Last night we ventured into town after dinner to have a social drink and perhaps some music if we were lucky. Five minutes later we entered a section of closed roads and passed the first of four packed pubs with bands playing, all within 100 metres. More than a thousand people of all ages were out there. There was much happiness in the air. People danced unselfconciously with hips that twisted beyond typical British restrain. Babies wobbled on parent’s knees, soaking up the warm atmosphere. Not a jot of aggression. Lots of smiles and cuddles. Men kissing each other on meeting and parting. Bars were all full. No seats vacant. Routes were blocked by adoring audiences until the end of the set.
The second band was lead by a man in a fairy suit, complete with tutu and wings.
had six singers singing folksy songs in harmonies.
En route home we were most excited by a mostly brass band playing dance music. Three trumpets, trombone and baritone, clarinet and alto sax, guitar, drums and lead singer that made a rich musical stew which we all revelled in until they wound up all to soon.
We're hoping the snippet of “Manyana” in the closing oratory meant they’ll be back there tonight, when we will be ready for them, pre-lashed and drinks fully charged. I doubt our hips will be up to the local norms though.
The following evening we got a full fix of the energetic brass band. Much dancing ensued. One of the best evenings
We've enjoyed using buses again today as we crossed the Andes into Chile on a double decker fancy bus. The enjoyable challenge of finding out schedule details and prices, then finding the bus. Long distance buses are plush and quiet with loads of room. We had to change to a local bus nearer our destination. This entailed walking to a more rustic bus station where ticket offices were interspersed with tiny shops and stalls of all descriptions.
We're now in Chile, Puerto de Monte, where we are majoring on cerviche, which is a slightly pickled raw fish. Yum!
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