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Published: February 14th 2006
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Oh no they´re not!
Well can´t we at least discuss it like adults? We've covered a lot of territory since the last blog.
After leaving Bolivia and crossing the border into northern Argentina, we made our way south, then took a left turn back across the Andes into Chile, thus missing out the boring northern desert. We´ve now travelled down to the island of Chiloe.
A note from the English version of the local guidebook may shed some light on this remote spot. The mythology section describes a fearsome creature called the Fiura: ´Repugnant women, horrible ogly of small size, foul-smelling breath live in the forests near to the "Hualdes", she is coquette, swim in the falls and she comb her hair with the crystal rack, wearing address with many colors, and after the bath she seat in the sea grass nud by hours. Is the female of evil, the allways bride of the singles, she love to make bad things to the men who refuse her even animals.´
Three months in Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia have ingrained the Third World mentality into us: after travelling hundreds of miles on corrugated, unpaved roads, an experience akin to being strapped to a paint mixing machine, paved roads in Argentina came as a
Saddled up
A spot of horsey riding near Salta shock. Likewise the notion of a long-distance bus with a toilet. Or a city with no beggars. Or one that collects its garbage. Etc.
Argentina has obviously recovered strongly from the collapse of its currency four years ago, and seems prosperous. Of course, the first thing you see on arriving is a large sign proclaiming that the 'Islas Malvinas' belong to ... guess who? To test this theory (because it is only a theory), we went to see a film called Illuminados por el Fuego, a lightly fictionalised account of the Falklands - sorry, Malvinas - War and its aftermath. Pretty good, as far as I could tell without the aid of subtitles, and the audience looked quite shaken at the end - most of them being as yet unborn in 1982. Strangely, during the movie I found myself fighting down the urge to shout 'Come on England!' and even 'One nil!' in the manner of the late David Coleman.
Afterwards I remembered a friend of a friend I used to come across in the pub around late 1981. His name was Gordon and he worked in a deeply obscure section of the Foreign Office. Obviously he couldn´t
At the rodeo
These five year olds actually went into the ring talk about his work. But after a bunch of Argentinian scrap merchants hoisted their national flag on the tiny and insignificant island of South Georgia, Gordon let slip: 'Oo-er, I'll be very embarrassed if this leads to anything!' Clearly the F.O. thought it was safe to put a nitwit like Gordon in charge of such a distant lump of rock...
In Chile, we really liked Valparaiso, a noisy, scruffy port city full of litter, dog-shit and graffiti. Why? They paint their houses in deep vibrant colours - orange, maroon, lime - and the graffiti is often quite artistic. They also have a collection of rickety 19th century funiculars which hoist you up and down the steep cliffs which most of the town is built on. The highlight of our stay was a visit to the Cinzano restaurant ('founded in 1895') which serves Chilean specialities and was recommended by our hostel landlady. She also promised us 'tango sung by very old people', and so it proved. One old groaner in a fedora had obviously modelled himself on 1950s Frank Sinatra. Another, bald as an egg and about four foot six, sported a skin-tight matador outfit. The restaurant decor included a
Valparaiso
Just think - you could paint your house in one of these colours complete goal-by-goal breakdown of the 2002 World Cup, in which England's 2-1 defeat by eventual winners Brazil is displayed for all to see.
All patriotic Bolivians hate Chile: in La Paz we went to the surreally named Museo del Littoral Boliviano, a wistful little museum dedicated to the non-existent Bolivian coastline which in fact was lost to Chile by a bunch of incompetent generals during the War of the Pacific (1879-1884, history fans). The museum contains old military uniforms and maps on which places like Antofagasta still belong to them. These days the Bolivian Navy (yes, it still exists) contents itself with sailing around its half of Lake Titicaca (the bit that doesn´t belong to Peru).
In Vicuña we met a Swiss TV celebrity! Her name is Sarah Marquis and she describes herself as a professional walker. Actually she´s a sort of Ray Mears-style survival expert. Once, when crossing the Australian desert, she came across a dingo that was just about to be shot by a farmer. She offered to adopt the animal, which has been her loyal 'walkies´companion ever since and, according to her, is now the most famous pooch in Switzerland. Check this out for yourself
The Valparaiso Sinatra
He still knows how to tango if you don't believe me: www.sarahmarquis.ch
By the way, we´ve had several messages and emails asking: how do you tell the difference between an Argie and a Chilean? Well, yes, it can be difficult because neither of them eats anything but ice-cream or drinks anything but coffee, and we can´t understand a word any of them they say due to their speaking a funny kind of Spanish. However your Argie pretty much looks European whereas the Chileans are darker-skinned, stockier, and the women incline physically to the cylindrical. This may be due to the fact that the Argies systematically exterminated their remaining indigenous population in the 1870s, whereas the Chileans only stole all their land. Hope that clears things up.
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mark@waitrose
non-member comment
not late, merely delayed
I was shocked to read in your blog of the "late David Coleman". I suspect the Beeb are merely resting him and I am hoping that he will soon reappear wearing a characteristic brightly-coloured cardigan to host 'A Question of Sport: The Untold Story'.