publıc transport

we wıll walk, we wıll catch a tram, we wıll get a ferry followed by a bus and then on to the aırport where we wıll catch a plane. yıp, the cheap as chıps easyjet flıght wıll take less tıme traversıng all europe than the trans-ıstanbul tour by publıc transport to get to the aırport. (the alternatıve taxı fare wıll otherwıse be more expensıve than saıd cheap flıght).

ın the last few days we have sıpped tea; smoked water pıpes; popped ınto mosques, art gallerıes, bazaars, underground cısterns, museums that were once churches converted to mosques; played backgammon; eaten and slept. we caught a ferry to asıa and notıced that the food was cheaper but otherwıse everythıng else was the same. we walked up and down several of ıstanbul s seven hılls. we ve been mıstaken for spanısh on several occasıons, but sınce pascal had hıs beard shaved off some thınk he s a turk. we ve not shopped as much as ı thought we would (pascal wıll swear that we shopped twıce as much).

but otherwıse we are happy, ınspıred, refreshed, revıved and ready to return to that real world that awaıts us: that of -12degrees of snowy alpıne wınter downhıll festıvıtıes.
oh, and work.
xxxx
b
ps promıse promıse promıse photo updates to all entrıes to follow when we return to fransa

new autumn

mother nature desıgned autumn to gıve everyone a lıttle joy: leaves dance delıcate ballets as they fall to the ground to waıt for gardeners and chıldren to play amongst. the sun shınes gently lettıng those sun weary gardeners get on wıth theır harvest ın peace.
and we re lucky enough to see a second autumn after frollıckıng amongst the leaves ın parıs parks and watchıng the rapıd onslaught of snow and all thıngs wıntery as we clımbed ınto the mountaın s valley.
and even though thıs cıty ıs heavıly blanketed ın a thıck smog, or maybe because ıt ıs, the lıght ıs extraordınary, golden, happy, as ıt reflects on the golden tops of the thousand mınarets.
today ıs frıday, the holy muslım day of prayer and my favourıte day of the week here for fındıng peace and tranquılıty. we were woken thıs mornıng by the most soulful call to prayer; the streets were almost empty as the workers took the day to celebrate famıly lıfe and love.
the turkısh are very frıendly, theır smıles genuıne and free. ı know theır lıves are much the same as ours: usual work/money worrıes. but, beıng muslıms, theır streets, bazaars and shops aren t lıttered wıth fake chrıstmas nıcetıtes and commercıal woes.
we re creatures of habıt, pascal and ı, and we ve found some happy turkısh chefs to serve our çorba (lentıl soup) and we pass the same streets every day to take our tea or coffee- well away from the overwhelmıng tourıst dıstrıcts. (downhıll from the grand bazaar, through the shoe manufacturıng dıstrıct, next to a busy mosque).
yesterday, ın the button dıstrıct (kıd you not, streets and alleyways devoted to fastenıngs) ı found a shop that to my delıght (and much to pascal s too ı m sure) would let me browse and pıck a few to buy sıngly. the shop owner who hardly spoke 4 words of englısh smıled at pascal and told hım: women, all world, same. and wıthout knowıng ıt, the 2 men followed hıs own prophecy by smılıng sympathetıcally at each other.

summary of world travels: women lıke buttons and men lıke football. we all lıke peace and love and a good sunday/frıday/saturday famıly meal. and autumn sheds the same lıght, leaves and bountıful fruıt on all of us
xxxx
b

swisstanbul

the roads wound round and up and down.
ıt was snowıng when we left our valley.

ın swıtzerland we notıced:
black and whıte cows parked outsıde of quaınt lıttle churches, waıtıng to make theır donatıons towards the natıonal cheese fund.
approxımately 1000km of motorway/autoroute/autobahn lovıngly sıgnposted ın several languages. (for future reference ausfahrt ıs german for exıt: no gıgglıng, the germans aren t tryıng to be funny)
the border control dudes don t carry large pocket knıves even though they ve more than lıkely been ın the army.
everyone speaks wıth an ıtalıan accent (german, french... all ıtalıan)
whıch leads me to the conclusıon that:
swıtzerland ıs a large front for the ıtalıan mafıa, they needed someway to launder all that lovely money and what better way to do ıt than to ınvent a country of polıte, tıdy, dıscreet people who love the sımple thıngs ın lıfe lıke cows, chocolate, motorways and bankıng. and ınvıte the germans and the french along just so ıt doesn t look too obvıous.

our journey to the aırport was very long and confusıng. as the crow flıes basel ısn t very far from where we are, ınfact basel ıs rıght on the french border. tragıcally, we weren t travellıng by crow; but ıt s easıer to get to vıa swıtzerland (and 30euros for a motorway pass and NO free chocolate) so we spent half the day not entırely sure whether we were comıng or goıng. we worked ıt out dependıng entırely on how ıtalıan the accent was. untıl we crossed one border ınto france (what ıs ıt wıth these people and theır lack of sense of humour???) ıt s a good thıng we had some spare tıme that we dıdn t want to waste ın duty free.

cross the border a few more tımes (parked car ın france, departure gate 83 ın swıtzerland) then off we went to ıstanbul, the cıty that traverses the straıght between asıa and europe and ıs busy dıppıng ıts toes ın eıther pond, arrıvıng at an hour that found even the most devout muslıms stıll tucked up tıghtly ın theır dreams. we saw the sun rıse slowly over the skylıne (domınately pıerced by towerıng mınarets and softened by the voluptuous domes) whıle we searched for a hotel.
the cultural vultures that we are of course we wıll be makıng every effort to vısıt everythıng, photograph ıt and report back to you over the next few days. after we ve caught up on sleep.
gulegule
xxxx
b

a bientot paris

i would love to come up with an incredible discription of the journey out of paris but other than to say it was slow that was about it.
however once we left paris the road unfolded rather delicately, pretty french castles dotted the countryside, designers of children's play areas had lots of fun (as in, they created mushroom parks for them to play in) and then after a few motorway links we were swirling through alpine roads: giant viaducts standing proud of the mountain valleys, by-passing villages and making the route a little like some sort of space travel. the mountains were peaked with snow and some villages were blaketed in heavy frosts that i'm sure will only get thicker until the spring arrives.
we stopped in chamonix/argentiere for a coupla days to see my bro before heading off to our new home for the next few months: val d'isere. altitude 1850m, attitude: very cool. there are clumps of leftoversnow hanging about, up to no good and a pretty mountain stream running through the town. the mountains rise up around the village menacingly; their sharpteeth tops grinning at the sun. aiie, mountains: fresh thin air rosey cheeked madness.
so, we unpacked (poor maggy was filled to the brim) put it all in its place and relaxed.
we start work in about 2ish weeks.
in between times we will be going off to istanbul to buy some pots for making wintersoups and a chopping board and maybe a nice rug to welcome our toes in the morning.
hope you, like us, have got a great surply of thermals somewhere cos if you read this blog further into the winter it'll make you cold!!!
keep warm and happy
xxxx
b

da girls

how many???
kiara, lacey and i, in best form, supporting the all blacks @ lyon.
nice one girls xx 

lyonopolis

nestled between the rhône and the saône rivers with a hill for praying and a hill for working the pretty ex roman trading post is quite the cultural city. not that i saw much of its culture.
as per usual i looked at it from the outside and a little from the inside of a glass. (which is kinda cultural...?) its a town where they roll out the barrel: the heart of the beaujolais:
so, november 16th is the beaujolais nouveau fest (as in, when everyone gets to sample this season's beaujolais wine) and what better time to go catch up with friends and to do a little work on the city that is the topic of my latest research and employment.
so, maggy the great, traverser of countries (yes, plural) drove us down there at not quite break neck speeds a coupla days early but in time to visit some of pascal's great uni buddies.
we also popped in to a little mediaevil town perched atop a hill in the freezing cold.
we walked up the praying hill to witness muffled views of the city in the rain, with a mini eiffel tower to the right and a monstrous church to our lady the fourvière (dunno what that means) to the left, snuck past the churches to the saints paul, john & george (maybe fourvière is old latin for ringo?) all in time to go watch the rugby.
ooooh what a game!
i shared the spectacle with my 2 american chicas (if you've been following the blogs, these are the same 2 lovelies who i met and travelled with in nicaragua) who enjoyed the action, or at least the boys' form....

once again it was nice to catch up with friends, they make the road worth while. and for me, i got to meet some more of pascal's 'family', a very important family. (c'etait un plaisir de faire votre connaissance x)

and for maggy, well she had her picture taken at 97km/h the wee tart. we're not quite sure if the gendarmerie will be able to publish the picture directly to the blog.....


oh, and as for the beaujolais, well, this year i'd probably recommend it to go with a strong cheese, maybe parmesan, on top of your salad.

xxxx
b

middle earth

i always found it ironic living in the shires, the actual shires that mr tolkien wrote about when new zealand claims to be 'middle earth'. the similarities tend to end there. apart from the hobbits.
they're nice people, the hobbits. like to eat, like to drink and be merry, they love dancing and having parties. very friendly. totally trustworthy. and despite the fact that not all of them have hairy toes (i'm sure this has got more to do with depilatory actions rather than genetics) they've all got big hobbit hearts.
pascal got to meet my hobbit family and friends and was firmly welcomed as one of the clan.
it's kinda crazy really, to go 'home' when you know it's not anymore; to be welcomed like you've been away for years but continue on chatting like you didn't go any further than the shop.
aiie, hobbit love eh?!

we ventured out of the shires, and crossed the cotswolds popping in on some friendly menhirs enroute. pascal commented that the cotswolds hills are more like a cotswolds bump... i guess if you compare les alpes to snowdonia you might get the drift of it.

middle earth, middle england: where some might equate middle to average i'd say you couldn't get any further from the truth!

thanks for having us, it was wonderful. and we'll see you all in france for a hobbit style camping holdiday!!!
xxxxx
b

ey up!

phew, after a very brief period of notdrinkingnotsmoking verging on purity it has all been chucked out the window for a last ditched attempt at hedonism. and boy, they know how to do that round here!

welcomed
back up the front
with my reddtich crew.

and the family has expanded....

loads of new faces, old faces, slightly wiser faces.
it has been a little crazy to be back somewhere that i'd never thought i'd be but crazy mad lovely all at the same time. aiie.
so, quite predictably, i'm making this a rather quick entry 'cos i'm off out, down the pub....
xxx
b

draw this

as we were out walking the other day we passed a window without anything for sale that still managed to catch our eye. the window was filled with portraits: sketched printed glued in pencil in ink in coal. as part of the nation wide thingo (campaign?) 'the big draw' various schools and community colleges around the place are opening up and holding free workshops. so pascal and i passed an interesting afternoon covering ourselves and various bits of paper with charcoal ink glue and arrived at the end with some very interesting portraits of one another and the conclusion that we are very different. pascal preferred to use very simple but in fact very elaborate techniques: single lines, very suggestive. a minimalist. me (and i don't think you'll be surprised at this), i wanted a go at everything. mixing up the medias; not at all suggestive, totally apparent, but a tiny bit secretive at the same time. lets face it, you all knew it: a maximist.
anyway, we were allowed to keep everything we made bar one portrait. the portrait we left behind will be displayed in an exhibition next week (so if you're anywhere round georges rd on the way between elephant and castle and blackfriars, london, look out for the morley gallery).

it was kinda nice to see how everyone sees everybody completely differently despite the fact we've all got 2 eyes.
xxxx
b

nitecar

i know this picture is already in the collage but i like it so much i thought it deserved a biggerbetterfaster go at it. 

paris/london

so, one minute we're in paris the next we're in london.
not quite next minute (try24hrs later). bizarre.
the weekend past we wandered into the city to do a little shopping. absolute chaos: full tilt consumerism with wall to wall people grabbing things to buy like it was the end of the world. crazy. after all that we needed to escape to a park to try and capture the last of autumn's sweet sunshine. we headed to le jardin du luxembourg where we found the non-shopping half of paris doing the same thing: enjoying the subtlety of autumn. there were people playing chess, people playing cards, kids on ponies, a science fair, people playing pétanque. it was just like one of manet's paintings (but his was at les tuileries, and everyone was wearing tophats)..... we kicked leaves, looked over shoulders at games of chess and cards and tried to guess which people has recently left the science fair.
zip, cross country, cross former battle-fields, past wargraves and mining towns. onto a ferry and plonk, old blighty. we parked up road-side to sleep the rest of the night before driving north to london in the morning, stopping briefly in canterbury for an english breakfast enroute.
and london; big, busy, double-decker buses, tubish underground, not a sign of the wombles.
popped into the kiwi embassy for a quick kiaora and passport exchange (surpirsingly bloke there didn't comment on appauling photos), sampled some delicacies from home like buzzbars and peanut slabs (mmmmmmm) before wandering off to do almost exactly the same thing, but in london. look in on shop windows (carnaby st, regent st, oxford circus)- monopoly anyone?
but then we saw the national gallery was holding a quick exhibition: 'from manet to picasso' and there's nothing like being impressed by impressionism while you're already being overwhelmed.
london, eh? showing us scenes of paris. which is busy sampling bits of london.

paris par nuit

tuesday night, on the town, zooming round.
and even that it was midnight, even that it was a tuesday they were all still at it. sipping coffees, leaning on posts, cycling somewhere, driving somewhere, consuming, being consumed by the fantastic city. 

paris, non smoking

2 weeks into the city of couture, culture and cuisine and i think that we've managed to sample a little of everything.
thanks to the generosity of the french government and our status of being 'poor' (and a piece of paper to prove it) we are able to visit many galleries, museums and swimming pools (amongst other things) for free. very nice. although at the centre pompidou i'm sure the patrons spent as much time looking at one another as at the exhibition itself!
we were very lucky to visit the french president's latest gift to the republic: the branly. the design of the building is rather controversial (for those who are the conservative/bourgeoise type): incredibly modern earthy coloured 'boxes' stacked, interspersed with glass walls (which are shaded by what i imagine would be sun-reactive metal venetian-like blinds) and a wall clothed in a great moist plant-carpet. the landscape design is rich, again providing contrasts between texture, colour and the sculptural aspects of both the hard and soft materials. the branly is plopped right smack in the middle of 7th arrondisement: to me and you that means the eiffel tower is right behind it and the rather affluent art-nouveau neighbourhood en-route to invalides is on the other side.
and all that before you get inside the museum!!
the museum houses a vast collection of indigenous art from around the world. most of the art was collected during the period of collonisation, which provokes a thought or two; but mostly i just appreciated the simple and equally elaborate beauty of everything there from musical instruments to rich tapestries, carvings, jewellery and beautifully embroidered clothes. monuments to gods and talismen for men.
and then we went shopping. or at least window shopping (the french call it lecher les vitrines which means window licking!!). my lord. it's a jolly good thing that the government are sponsoring us!!!
however, we need something to ocupy us as we're now up to day 5 in the non-smoking marathon. (although i think i am somewhat more occupied than pascal in the shopping bonanza).
yes, i am a non- smoker!!!!!

this is how much of a non-smoker i am: today we went for a drive around paris (on the perepherique: mental ring road; up the champs elysees: mental shopping district (no window licking from the driving seat, damn!!); round the arch de triomphe: super mental roundabout where there are no rules other than don't hit anyone, which i only just managed to not break!!!) without once fancying a cigarette!!! or killing anyone (nearly killing people doesn't count).

so, the cuisine bit. i guess that ties in with the non- smoking bit as i am currently eating a rather large and varied selection of almost everything (except animals). i hope to have that in check before things get out of hand (thanks again, monsieur le president for the free visits to the swimming pool). i can now thoroughly recommend at least 200 types of cheese, especially the goatish varieties (vegan? abandoned that planet as soon as i became french!!), which can always be appreciated with a glass of wine. :)


la vie est belle, n'est-ce pas?

i'm more than happy. even though the sun drags itself across the sky now in a sulkish fashion indicating that autumn is here; the trees flashing red warning us that winter is on its way. i'm a little scared of winter, but i can't wait till spring!!! loving the french people, life and culture.
xxxxxxxx
b
oh, ps, about to hit the road again in a coupla days, heading towards ol' blighty.

tour de france, suite

bonjour a tous,
je pense que vous aurez tous compris, petits et grands, francophones, francophiles et autres, le billet que rebecca vient d ecrire (si vous n avez pas tout saisi, relisez avec un accent neozelandais et vous comprendrez tout par magie). je note juste a l attention des pointilleux qu il fallait remplacer "trompes" par "erreurs", "ray" par "re", "marron" par "marrant", "freimont" par "fouesnant".
nous sommes donc finalement arrives a paris par la porte de st cloud apres une saison de travail au cap ferret et un joli petit tour de la cote ouest de notre charmant pays. merci encore a tous ceux qui ont pris le temps de nous recevoir, d ecouter nos histoires, de nous servir copieusement de boissons alcoolisees aperitives, accompagnatives et digestives, et surtout de regarder (avec un interet parfois etonnant) les moultes photos que nous avons prises au cours de l annee de voyage (heureusement pour vous, on avait pas mal trie...).
ici a paris, on s installe quelque peu, histoire de recharger les batteries et de visiter quelques musees, prendre des expressos sur les terrasses abritees, s inscrire aux assedics et autres demarchages administratifs pour la forme et pourquoi pas faire un peu de sport, apres tout on aura le temps d aller a la piscine, il parait que celle de la butte aux cailles est sympa.
pour ceusses qui sont dans le coin et qui lisent ce blog attentivement, n hesitez pas a nous appeler!!!
p

tour de france

bon jour tout le monde!!!
je vais essayer ecrire mon premiere 'blog' en francais.... svp m'excuser pour toutes les trompes....
bon.
on a partie de le cap le 1 septembre pour l'ile de ray ( pres de la rochelle) ou on a fait le camping; l'ile, apres le cap, etait tres marron. septembre est le mois de retrete (du monde qui a fini travailler) donc etait plein des campingcars et cheveaux gris..... les trucs modes nullepart.
on a continue par la rochelle ou on a reste qq jours chez maurice et collette. ils ont un tres jolie maison et jardin la bas avec beaucoup des oeseaux et une piscine du ciel. (le debut de septembre etait presque comme juillet ici, il faut que on prends les siestes chaque jour!)
j'ai decide apres ca que je voudrais etre un retrete aussi (meme que j'ai travailler soulement 2 mois cette annee!!). merci beaucoup a maurice et collette pour tous!!
au nord (un peu) on a reste a cote de le venice vert ou on a loue un canoe (presque un petit disastre.... on ne sera pas dans le prochain equipe olypique) avant reste chez famille bouffandeau (salut!! et merci encore xx) au pommerie (pres du cholet).
encore, plus de famille, la grandemere de pascal, denise (bon jour) et la tante et l'oncle et famille au cholet et apres tous les repas delicieux je ne peut pas imaginer pourquoi je ne suis pas enorme maintenant. oh la la!!! la vie francaise!!! je l'aime beaucoup!!!
on a passe par nantes (je crois que on est presque a bretagne maintenant?) ou on a visite sandrine, julian et petit ewan (un fan des all blacks, meme que il a seulement 1 ans ;) ). merci beaucoup, meme que j'avais mal au cheveaux prochaine jour...
finalement, a britagne ou on a trouve les menhirs, megolithes et toutes les choses prehistorique et du cidre et crepes aussie. les bretones sont fous (j'ai lu asterix quand j'etais petite!!). c'est tres jolie labas, et je crois (a ce moment) que c'est le region plus belle du pay. un autre tante et oncle de pascal habitent a freimont (je sais que ce n'est pas ecrit comme ca, mais si tu as besoin le trouver c'est a cote de quimper) quand on etait labas c'etait l'anniversaire de carole et on a eu la chance a celebrer avec la reste de la famille.
(merci beaucoup jeanpaul et carole xxxx)
on a reste chez jeanpaul et carole (ils ont un apartement a quimper) pour qq jours pendant on a fait les petits tour de britagne par voiture (le temp, meme que il a fait beau, on avait du vent aussi).... les petit villes du moyenages, fortifie avec les eglise enormes et les chateaux du les histoires des fees. magnifique.
et avant tu peut dire 'bon jour, ca va?' on etait sur le perefirique (??? la route ronde environ paris) dans la pluie avec du monde. bien venue a paris!!!


wow, that was really hard...
don't think i;ve ever written anything so long in french ever.

i was going to translate it but i don't think the language i use is that complicated, so if the google translation thingo doesn't work (and i'm sure it will) you'll have to use your imagination and i promise i'll write more, in english, next time.
xxxxxx
b

allez les blacks!!!!

blimey, it's been about 10 years since i last wrote and i can't even remember what i wrote or where i was so it's kinda difficult to comment on the inbetween.... so i'll go in reverse order:
i've just finished watching the all blacks totally cream south africa in a very scrappy match (t'was the springboks, messy bastards). i watched it with pascal and an audience of french gentlemen; the game was commentated by two french blokes which was a source of constant amusement for me listening to them pronounce the names of the kiwi players. it's always nice to watch the home team, even better when they kick arse!!
the weeks previous to that has seen us both working like slaves in a town called crap ferret on the atlantic coast in the south of france. while the location itself is stunning working every day for 2 months and sharing a house with the people you work with isn't ideal. n'er mind. it's nearly the end of the season and time again for us to hit the road.
the pair of us work for 'emma photo', pascal works fulltime as a photographer and i teeter between being lab assistant (developing films) and surf photographer (standing almost waist deep in the sea trying to take pictures of kids having surf lessons). while neither of us will become millionaires doing it we've earnt enough to buy a car (maggy, peugoet 205, extraodinaire) and to keep us in food, petrol and wine before the next job.
we started taking some surf lessons last week. i should have done it earlier then i would have appreciated the sometimes dire expressions on the kids faces i try to photograph.... let's just say that i don't think pascal and i will be entering in the surf competition at the end of the week.
oh, right, i just looked at the blog and noticed last entry was from the other hemisphere. oops. don't know where the others went.
so. we're in france.
we spent a very brief 3 months hopping, bumping, walking and wobbling our way through south america. the original plan was to hitchike to colombia to catch a cheap plan to europe but you know how we are about plans. we nearly made it but at the last minute chickened out of going to colombia for fear of being kidnapped/blown-up (or both). and i'm not even exagerating. colombia has a very long history of guerilla warfare and not too long ago foreigners became the target, kidnapped and held to ransom (or simply escorted to the cashmachine). about 2 years ago they entered the guiness book of world records for the amount of kidnappings in one year (5000+). fortunately for colombian tourism, they've recently returned to the traditional methods of funding guerilla activity by cultivating/selling coca. however, there's still a few living out in the sticks who haven't got wind of the new trend and every so often snatch someone...
i am serious.
the day before we were going to go there colombia experienced its most peaceful, troublefree elcetions in more than 10 years with only 12 people being murdered during the polls.
right, so we didn't go.
we hung our in ecuador (which was surprisingly cold and rainy) for a bit. trekked a wee bit in peru. looked at llamas in bolivia and drunk far too much coffee and wine in argentina. as you do.
we hit the road again friday (hoping) on our little tour de france. obviously we shall be visiting the region's vinyards en route and camping like peasants. i shall try to give you an honest review (of both) more frequently.
xxxxxxxxx
b
oh, ps, i'm nearly french!!! got a work contract listing my nationality as french and am currently 'signing on' as well!!! never mind being able to order myself a coffee!!
x

discheveled

back from the salar, bec and i.
bad hair day... 

heureuse et heureux

pascal et moi au salar uyuni, bolivie. altitude: 4800m et trop tot le matin..... 

ché chavez

he's the man of the moment, the man to watch: hugo chavez, venezuelan presidente and all round south american hero....
this man seems to be achieving in these early parts of the 21st century what bolivar and guevara tried before and failed in. the man's got oil money, the man's got balls. he's sticking his finger square up the US nostril, advising fellow south america nations how to recaim their precious oil fields and thus keep the profits and power. he's buying arms off the russians.he's having cups of tea with the libyans. he's selling subsidised oil to poor neighbourhoods in the US and making similar offers round loondon...
he's all over the news, signing trade agreements with bolivia, oil agreements with ecuador, buying argentina's foreign debt...
of course, the united states has "branded the man a demagogue and is trying to destablise the region"
and as with all good leaders, the man spent 2 years in prison (before being pardoned) and has fought off numerous protests and an attempted coup...
keep your eyes peeled. i'm kinda hoping he's going to continue to be the thorn in the bush administration's side, the bad smell that won't go away and maybe might be able to change something, something big, in america.

arriba y bajo

hola amigos,
it's been an age since i wrote last; the road has slid past with remarkable ease....

not long after i wrote last we arrived in Cusco, Peru: Incan empire capital city and tourist hub. Not surprisingly, the town itself is beautiful, nestled in a basin beneath the hills. Nearby treats include the Sacred Valley, Machu Pichu and Choquequeroa: ancient Incan ruins. machu pichu, of course, is the big draw card. but with nearly 1000 visitors daily it is no longer the Inca trail shrouded in mysticism and ancient wisdom, it is the gringo trail, stamped squarely with dollar signs.
so, being as we fancy ourselves as explorers we decided to head to the lesser known Choquequeroa. more recently rediscovered and restored (seriously funded by the french government: merci beaucoup!) and substantially more difficult to get to.... we bused from cusco to a small (3 house) town and caught a collectivo (shared taxi) down to cachora. 'civilisation' as we know and love it, is fast approaching: the dust road is being improved and concreted in places and the trail out the other side of town, towards the valley and ruins, is being widened into a road.
we opted against hiring a horse, deciding to carry our food and shelter on the trail that went: 32km, 1400m down, 1500m up.... very steep. very. hot and dry. mad insects that bit every bit of you... bleeding incas!!
all moaning aside, the effort was well rewarded by one of the most amazing historical sites i have ever visited. on top of a 3100m hill overlooking a steep, green and well cultivated valley, cheered on by snow capped mountains. all to ourselves.

after the punishment of the previous coupla days arriba y bajo (up and down) we knew when to draw the line and get ourselves a horse. the journey back to cachora was easy by comparison!

and back on the road again, from the relatively isolated and unpopulated mountainside to the hustle and bustle of lima, capital city... diesel stink and bouncing colonial vibrancy. movies, bars, cafes. caught between a rock and a hard place me, i love them both!!

nothing else terribly memorable to report about peru; we zipped up the coast on a series of overnight buses and crossed the border into steamy ecuador, banana capital of the world and producer of panama hats....

as always, photos to follow!
xxxxx
b

titicaca? sans blague

ca faisait une paye que je ne vous avais pas donne de nouvelles, mes tres chers, excusez moi. je vous ecris de copacabana, en bolivie, pas au bresil. c est pres du lac titicaca, ce fameux lac qui nous a tant fait rigoler enfants (quoique j en vois, encore depasse la trentaine, qui se goncent...). le climat est pur, on est a 3800m d altitude, l eau est froide et les vieux sourient de leurs dents en or, ca fait belle lurette qu ils n ont plus de vraies, moi je m en suis cassee un bout en mangeant leur espece de noix dures comme l email diamant.
la bolivie, ca fait une dizaine de jours, peut etre meme une quinzaine, qu on y est, et on adore. avant ca, nous avons laisse l argentine. desillusion. notre projet de vivre au moins quelques mois a buenos aires a ete abandonne bien vite, faute de trouver un travail un poil plus qu alimentaire.alors on remonte vers le nord.
a humahuaca, nord ouest de l argentine, pour la premiere fois, on s est sentis en amerique du sud: avant c etait les villes a l air europeennes, les autobus luxueux et les gens qui vous demandent des renseignements dans la rue, incognitos on passait. des humahuaca, ca change: petites vieilles machouillant la feuille de coca, petits vieux ressemblant a guy roux qui serait reste trop longtemps a bronzer sur le banc de touche, les gamins crasseux et ebouriffes, les bebes suspendus dans le dos de leurs meres adolescentes.les routes boliviennes sont belles, grandioses; et chaque village ou on s arrete nous offre un sourire: ici, c est cette petite fille qui joue a cache cache avec nous, la, c est cette maman qui va fierement faire ses courses avec son landeau tout neuf en guise de chariot (le bebe toujours traditionnellement dans le dos).
a copacabana, c est repos (sauf aujourd hui ou on a loue un petit bateau a voile; a savoir pour la prochaine fois, le matin, ici, il n y a pas de vent ; pas loin de copacabana il y a la isla del sol, l ile ou apparemment le soleil est ne, d apres les incas ; sans vent on n a pas reussi a l atteindre , mais pour ma part je prefererais aller sur l ile ou le soleil a ete concu, c est surement plus excitant...). j ai degote un petit hotel avec vue imprenable sur le lac; de l autre cote, c est le perou. pour l instant, ca a l air nuageux par labas. on attend ici que les nuages degagent, et quand le ciel sera clair, on fera de meme.

¿como se llama este llama?

bolivia:
brown hills, red hills, yellow hills, hills on top of hills: mountians; snow capped, volcanic, smoking, non-smoking, steaming high altitude. planes: simple, blinding white salt, dusty, crusty, beige and carpeted green wet and swampy...lagos of red, lagos of green, white lagos, blue. phallic cacti standing proud above the scrub, offering green, red and pink fruits to the herder of llamas or sheep or goats. cacti hudling together, sharing the secrets of the herders, of the hills, of the planes. llamas, llamas, llamas, all called bob. villages moulded carefully from mud bricks, knocked up, knocked down, biodegrading, steel reinforced and thatched with desert fluffiness.
mineral rich with borax, sulphur, zinc, silver ore.
or metal poor bumpy roads winding, curling, clinging serpentine to the hills and striping the planes. leading to the same place while braiding and weaving inbetween; the silver mine draws silver lines across the landscape, importing fancy electricity
while most villages look on in awe.
bolivia: altiplano: SPF15 days and 3 blanket nights.

poverty line

so, we arrived in b'aires, smiling, pleased to have arrived at our new home after months in getting here. i found work almost immediately: teaching english, as predicted.
so, 3 times a week i traverse the city in a sweaty train, imitating a sardine to teach english to people with prospects.
the journey takes 2 hours either way, the class lasts 3 hours... i earn 9 pesos for each hour in the class and none for the hours on the train.
the train rumbles past the highrises; it rocks past suburban slums where people live in recycled housing and recycle cardboard and paper to earn their pesos; it passes fields where people play polo and slinks into landscaped stations eloquently named 'bella vista' or 'hurlinghman'....
the contrasts are vast.
i later return to the backpackers bubble that we're staying in: a place where kids who are travelling on their parents' money and stay out drinking all night and would never know poverty if it came up and pinched their scrawny bums. the inhabitants of this mini republic spend the debt of small nations on beer and pizza weekly and think it's great that buenos aires has such an active recycling scheme.

it's been ages since i last made an entry here.
and with luck my next one won't be so grim. i guess it's just city living, noise and bustle and traffic fumes and a 12peso hangover with sleepless nights chucked in for good measure.

xxxxxxx
b

paradise in the polynesian triangle

i'm sat now in santiago, chile, colder than i expected....
the last few months have seen us sunning ourselves and swimming on all sorts of lovely beaches.
the last part of our journey in new zealand was beautiful, i guess as expected. we spent an amazing 6 days trekking on the queen charlotte track in marlborough sounds; one of the craziest tramps i've ever experienced. the track is serviced by water taxis which offer luggage delivery services for an extra $10. but being as we were camping, and are gluttens for punishment, we carried our own gear and stayed in the DOC camp areas. along the track there were several other options for accomodation, ranging from our luxury blue tent overlooking empty, golden sanded beaches, to the squalid but historic furneaux lodge (hope they don't read this blog, they might sue me... far from squalid) with all sorts in between... places to buy cappucino, sip on cider and watch the rugby. craziness. and as you might expect the track was busy. people of all sorts of ages and abilities walking. but we still managed to find some beautiful spots all to ourselves and the weka...(cheeky indigenous, flightless birds that nick off with your stuff when you're not looking, and even have a go when you are!)
so, a quick, easy hitch through the north island stopping briefly in wellington, hamilton and auckland and then on to tahiti.
tahiti was nothing like we expected. after 3 months in aotearoa, where we were greated everywhere with smiles and friendly faces we were more than a little suprised to find all these people living in a postcard paradise looking so miserable, despite the 'tahitian' welcome of singing, dancing and flowers. we didn't do much, sat on the beach, swam, tried hard not to sweat too much.
another wee hop across the pacific to the other edge of polynesia and we landed in rapa nui: isla de pascua, easter island. and here we were again, welcomed, but with genuine smiles. everyone there referred to nueva zelanda by its maori name aotearoa. the language of rapa nui (other than spanish) is incredibly similar to te reo maori and i was surprised by how many words used in conversation i could understand. crazy. on leaving the airport we met a chap named tuti who invited us to come and stay at his house. it was, in fact, his 2 nephews aged 7 and 8 who made one of the highlights of my stay there. not long after we arrived we were invited on a fishing trip and it was while we were being burnt to a crisp on the back of a ute, bouncing along the coastal roads that we discovered that the weather was proper scorchio and so our plans of walking around the mostly deforested island where there were few sources of water were immediately cancelled. we did manage one overnight camping expedition though to the site of some fallen moai. it was one of the most beautiful evenings i've ever had: the full moon lighting the stones made the whole landscape somewhat surreal.
another quick leap back in time (travelling backwards, totally crazy) deposited us into the funk and grime of santiago.
hooked up on the net, pascal has put a few photos on for you to enjoy, and here's a collage i've made of us, a few of the moai and a beautiful sunset we enjoyed and some piccies taken along the queen charlotte track in lovely te wai pounamu: south island , new zealand.
xxxxb

tahiti ile de paques santiago

de nouvelle zelande, nous partimes pour tahiti. deception. c est fou comme on peut sentir, des l arrivee dans un nouvel endroit, de bonnes ou de mauvaises ondes. dans ce cas-la, direct, mauvaises: quand, a la sortie de l avion, on est accueillis par des joueurs de ukulele et des vahines qui vous offrent une fleur, ca parait bien, et puis on fait la queue, et un douanier vient chercher ses amis dans la file pour les faire passer devant tout le monde; ca le fait moyen. notre premiere intention etait de dormir sur une plage (on est arrives a 20h30): deconseille par la nana de l office de tourisme, "a cause des agressions", me dit elle a mots couverts. on file donc vers le plus proche hotel, et on rencontre un francais qui vit depuis 10 ans sur l ile et d emblee me parle de la violence quotidienne, de viols, d inceste. bonjour le paradis! on change d ile le lendemain, moorea. programme accompli: sea, sex and sun. de retour sur papeete 3 jours plus tard, un local nous dit ne pas nous promener dans les rues mal eclairees; on prend le bus local pour l aeroport, et pele-mele, on voit des gamins se battre sur un parking (genre fight club), un couple se bagarrer (au passage, l homme etait a poil), et enfin, au duty free de l aeroport, la blague du jour: une femme dit a une autre:"comment c etait la journee de la femme?" (ce jour la, c etait la journee de la femme a tahiti, peut etre en france aussi, je ne sais pas); l autre dit "bof"; la premiere repond "au moins aujourd hui tu t es pas fait tabasser", et rigole.en resume, tahiti, n y allez pas! il y a plein d autres endroits sur terre aussi beaux et ou les gens sont plus sympas.

changement de decor complet sur l ile de paques: muy tranquillo!dans le temps, l ile s appelait qqch comme tea te ara, qui veut dire "centre du monde"; ils ont du faire la tronche quand les premiers europeens ont debarque; du coup, ils ont change pour "rapanui", qui veut dire grande moule ou un truc dans le genre. des braves gens, en somme.on a un peu rate les lieux touristiques de l ile, car avec le decalage horaire, on se reveillait un peu tard. et puis il fait une chaleur d enfer pdt la journee, donc marcher 6 heures pour 3 jours entre les differents sites (comme c etait prevu) n est pas vraiment une option. finalement, on s est debrouilles pour camper pres d une plate forme de moais pour la pleine lune (la photo de moi jouant aux pois (prononcez po-i-ze) a ete prise de nuit, on voit les etoiles). magique, cette nuit la!!!

depuis hier, on est a santiago, mais on va pas trainer. encore 2 nuits ici, et on file a valparaiso. retour a santiago, et on file a mendoza.au passage, comme je suis deja venu a santiago par l est il y a 2 ans, je viens de boucler mon premier tour du monde. yoohoo!




 

auckland, veille du depart

et nous sommes bientot prets (dernier shopping, derniere lessive, empaquetez le tout, melangez) pour le depart vers tahiti. ile paradisiaque sans doute. non, non, je ne suis pas blase. mais on ne reste que 4 jours sur place, donc ca va etre que plage et plongee. ils annoncent un rafraichissement des temperatures labas, 29 degres au lieu des 32 habituels. heureusement, j ai toujours ma polaire avec moi. rien que de penser a l eau bleue turquoise a 25, ca fait des frissons.
je me demandais si j allais vous faire un resume rapide de nos trois mois en nouvelle zelande. c est simple: si pres du depart, j ai deja hate d y revenir. tout me plait ici, de l atmosphere si detendue qui y regne a l agitation jamais speed des villes, des paysages grandioses aux petites plages ou il n y a personne, de la montagne majestueuse a l ocean pas si fique que ca. j adore. oui, peut etre un jour j apprendrai le haka. mais je sens que la nouvelle zelande et moi seront une belle aventure, dans quelques mois ou quelques annees.
on arrivera le 14 mars a santiago chili, apres tahiti et l ile de paques. on aura surement pleins de choses a vous raconter, alors soyez prets!

te wai pounamu

haere mai i aotearoa!
here's some piccies we've taken while we've been on the road: 38 rides, 160km of tramping (bush walking kiwi style), 22 dehydrated meals and 127 dead sandflies. and almost every second of it we've been smiling (with the exception of some of those more muddier moments on stewart island and one or two sandfly fiestas on the coast). we've not once dismantled the tent in the rain, not to say rangi (sky father) hasn't shed any tears on us, quite the opposite! the sun's been more than plentiful.
it's been 100% pure nz: home, almost as i remembered it.
xx
b 

une semaine dans la nature

nous etions prets, enfin, quasiment, pour faire un trek de 5 jours de part et d autre du harper pass, qui va de arthur pass a lewis pass; vous aviez devine que c etait un trek dans la montagne, mais ici c est pas haut, alors ca aurait ete facile. comme nos plans changent a la vitesse d un tgv paris marseille un jour de non-greve, le matin du depart, nous options donc pour deux jours de marche aller et deux jours retour; avec au milieu un arret dans des sources d eaux chaudes. le premier jour etait royal, 6h de marche a bon train; on pose la tente pres d une riviere; on se couvre d insecticides pour eviter les sand flies (ceux qui n ont jamais mis les pieds en nouvelle zelande ne peuvent pas savoir de quoi je parle: les sand flies sont de ridicules petites mouches qui, des que vous vous arretez quelque part, n ont de cesse de vous harceler et de vous pomper votre sang, comme des moustiques, a la difference pres que la, ca fait mal). bref, le bonheur. la nuit tombe, comme elle le fait generalement quand le soleil se couche; nous tombons egalement, de sommeil. vers minuit-5h du matin (a peu pres...), la pluie commence a tomber, elle aussi, decidement. et ca a dure 24 bonnes heures. du coup, on a glande sous la tente, mange la moitie de nos provisions (la premiere rando ou je prends du poids), et nous repartimes le lendemain dans l autre sens. adieu veaux vaches cochons sand flies et sources d eau chaude.
le retour fut tranquille.
hier enfin, apres avoir appris de la bouche d un neo zelandais moqueur notre decevante defaite face a l ecosse (je lui ai donne rdv en 2007 en france et en 2011 en nz), nous avons ete voir le premier match du super 14, otago contre canterbury. y en a t il dans l assistance qui savent de quoi je parle? non? tant pis je continue. le match etait sympa a regarder, mais l ambiance etait tres calme, un peu comme quand le luxembourg joue l azerbaidjan en match amical sur terrain neutre, vous voyez ce que je veux dire: quelques timides holas tenterent de decoller, pas de chant de supporters, pas de bagarre a la fin du match. decevant.
on passe encore une semaine a christchurch et apres on file vers le nord. yiiiiippppiiiie!

no, we're NotMad

hello again!
we've moved to a better, stronger , faster weblog. hopefully this one will give us a reliable service with links to all our lovely photos and stories of where we are and what we're up to.
so far this year:
we've done sod all.
yes, that's right! SodAll.
such are the joys of being a nomad.
plans for this year are somewhat more detailed and some of them even topsecret. (nomad doesnot equal spy, or prostitute either).
so, prepare yourself for yet another way to waste time on the internet looking at photos and learning another language
xx
b

pour les francophiles et ceux qui ne savent d anglais que "to be or not to be", je prends le relais pour vous souhaiter la bienvenue sur notre nouveau blog, qui je l espere satisfera petits et grands.
au programme du blog: nos recits de voyage, nos aventures, nos photos.
venez partager avec nous et amusez vous bien
bises
pascal