Penguins!

American Express continues to be a let-down

2010-03-16T19:20:00.004Z

The saga of pathetic customer support continues at AMEX!

Not being thrilled by the prospect of applying for a whole new card first, then applying for a companion card, and then changing about 20+ subscriptions to a new Credit Card provider - we tried to talk to American Express once more.

After carefully outlining to them that we understand that they are just following their own "policies" (no employee I talked to seems to be empowered to make decisions in any way there), we asked them to also understand that we have a business to operate that has running costs, for which we'd like our AMEX unlocked again.

Finally two separate agents I talked agreed to unlock our card as soon as they would receive the completed form via fax, even before the IRS would have completed their end of the verification. It's not great, still quite intrusive and certainly quite a bad situation to place your customers into, but workable to get things going again.

Keep in mind that our card wasn't suspended for any ill behavior such as no-payment or poor credit rating. No, we spend (and pay in full every month) too much, so we need to get locked out until we share our corporate tax records.

Well - the fax got sent and what happened next? You guessed it. Nothing happened.

The card remains suspended.
We owe no current balance on it.
I've been an American Express customer for 10 years.
We pay about $525 in combined card fees a year (and I certainly hope they will reimburse me the downtime) for the Platinum service. Some Platinum service that is.

And they leave us hanging again, after explicitly stating - twice - they would enable the card again.

Yeah. I don't really recommend AMEX for any small business that is relying on their ability to spend money.

AMEX: Disrupting small business since 1850.

2010-03-15T13:59:00.004Z

I'm usually not someone who goes on a lot of product rants, but the way that American Express has set out to disrupt our small business was just a new kind of low.

I've been an American Express Member for 10 years, with a Small Business Platinum account for the last two. After all - American Express likes to showcase themselves as "THE card for small businesses". Over the last two years, everything was great - we have most of our subscriptions and all travel going through the AMEX, etc. - in short: The card worked well for us.

Enter 2010 and a new round of venture funding for our Personalized Web Video application! We are excited. Client meetings abound, the team is expanding, and we are charging a few more business trips on the AMEX. The account is paid up in full every month.

Except last Friday the card stopped working.

You'd think maybe they were concerned that we were overspending and put a halt on the spending until it's paid. A quick phone call, pay the card in full even two weeks before it's due and it'll all be better?

Far from it. It turns out the increased spending was indeed a concern - but nothing that was fixed with a phone call or an early payment - no, instead AMEX decided to freeze everything for a prolonged period of time.

It turns out that there is a financial review for which AMEX requires me to release my company's tax statement with the IRS for the previous year - and before that was done I would not be able to charge anything on my card again.

Let alone that this is hugely intrusive not only to me and the other owners of the company, but it is also in stark contrast to them positioning themselves as the supporter of small businesses.

- The account was in good standing and fully paid.
- My credit history is immaculate.
- I've been a card member for over 10 years.

Yet AMEX sees fit to completely disrupt all my recurring payments and subscriptions (which include a number of infrastructure and service providers) with NO ability to unlock the account until I fax in a form that AMEX will then take to the IRS which could take weeks to return?

All I can say is: No thanks, AMEX. I'm not sure the other card providers for small business are better, but I'm willing to give that a try. Heck, maybe VISA even gets a nice counter-story to all of American Express's "Small-business success stories".

The Wesht

2007-05-15T17:23:00.000+01:00

As you may have noticed the gap between the previous post and the one before that was a full four months - the casual observer might believe that nothing has happened to me worth blogging in the time between, but the keen blogging expert will know that this is highly unlikely.

It’s Web 2.0! Everyone is a star, everyone produces content, and everybody is a publisher. By blogging standards I would have to be dead to not have events in my life exciting enough to blog (and that very death most certainly would have been blog-worthy).

So the cat is out of the bag – I’m lazy and just didn’t write anything. Neither about my visit to Ireland’s Wild West, nor about my nephew visiting from Germany (he brought along my sister and her husband) - and that so briefly after the grand post on resolutions. At least I kept these resolutions when it came to taking pictures – so I feel it my duty to you and the beauty of the Wesht to share a few of those images…

As previously indicated, my friend Ilana (for the whole international story check the last post) visited me in Ireland a second time over Easter. Both being the religious people that we are, we ventured on a pilgrimage to the far west of this island – the dry Connemara, the famous Aran Islands, and the Ring of Kerry.

I still don’t have a car – and as detailed in my last post, the public transport in Ireland is pretty much a non-option – so Ilana rented a car that would take us around for the long weekend. It turned out to be a brand-new (and I mean: BRAND new – only 50km on the clock) Open Corsa. Ferrari-red, zippy, pseudo-sporty – and ugly as sin. We aptly dubbed it the “RUB” – Red Ugly Bitch – on the spot before moving it a foot.

First stop of the trip was Galway, the capital of the west. Highlights here were the Kennedy park (one of the least attractive parks I’ve seen in a while) and the drinking water quality…. Or non-quality. It turns out that the surrounding cities had dumped their sewage for decades into the fresh water reservoir – and now after this continued abuse the water quality had degraded to a level that made it undrinkable. Public announcements even declared it illegal to serve ice cubes in drinks at local pubs. I’m sure the bottled water industry thrived. We left.

After a drive through the dry and desert-like Connemara, we arrived in Clifden, where we were to spend the first night in a small B&B. The Mallmore House turned out to be a beautiful B&B just outside the city, with small but beautifully equipped (Victorian?) rooms of which some also sported nice views on the Atlantic coast.

The next day took us to the Aran Islands – apparently world-renowned for the Aran Sweater (which is now produced somewhere else, but still delivered here to be sold to tourists). The Islands are also home to some old defense structures and churches – and by renting a bicycle (cars aren’t allowed on the island, save for a few for the inhabitants) you can quickly get to all those sights. If you aren’t used to riding a bicycle (as neither Ilana nor I were), you’ll know every muscle in your butt the next day.

After the Aran Islands we headed along the coastline to the Burren (of which we – truth be told – didn’t really see much of at all). En route we passed the “Cliffs of Insanity” featured in many famous movies, most notably “Princess Bride”. They had another name too, but I already forgot that. We spent the night in a small B&B in Corofin - that was most likely run by the chattiest woman ever - and that night once again enjoyed the menu and bar of a local pub (while I gave way to the cravings for a steak, Ilana had a salad or something equally unimpressive. Needless to say that she let me pick up the bill…).

From there we headed through Limerick (also known as “Stab city”) towards Kerry and the Ring of Kerry. Wikipedia says about it: “The Ring of Kerry is a tourist trail in County Kerry, south-western Ireland. The route covers the 170 km circular road (N70, N71 and R562), starting from Killarney, heading around the Iveragh peninsula and passing through Kenmare, Sneem (!), Waterville, Cahersiveen and Killorglin”. Before closing the ring we turned south and made our way to Cork, where we were to spend the last night of this trip.

Cork turned out to be a surprisingly nice city – we had a room reserved in a hostel on the north side, just minutes from downtown and the pub scene. Our quest for a restaurant to get some dinner was only moderately successful - our choices were 45 minute wait for a table or going to “Cpt. America”. The burgers were not bad though.

The last day took us back towards Dublin, only interrupted by a few stops at sights here and there. The highlight of those being the Rock Cashel – another quick except from Wikipedia: ”The Rock of Cashel, also known as Cashel of the Kings and St. Patrick's Rock , is a historic site in Ireland's province of Munster, located at Cashel, County Tipperary.The Rock of Cashel served as the traditional seat of the Kings of Munster for several hundred years prior to the Norman invasion, though few remnants if any of the early structures survive.”

After that is was pretty much all motorway all the time until we made it back to Dublin. I got a drop-off service at my door, and Ilana proceeded with the RUB – aided by her John-Cleese-voice-powered GPS – straight back to the airport.

This trip’s pictures as always on my smugmug site.

Guds hjælp, Folkets kærlighed, Danmarks styrke

2007-05-15T15:48:00.000+01:00

I’ve been to Denmark before – at least I think I have, after all when you’re about 8 years old you tend to take everything your parents say at face value (unless it’s “No”). For all I know I could have been to the Netherlands instead!

As you may remember, my friend Ilana from Australia, whom I met in the USA and went to Cuba with (and who recently visited me in Ireland… again) is now working for Microsoft in Denmark. What better opportunity to visit our 55% income tax neighbor could I possibly have? None, exactly. So last Friday afternoon I hopped on an SAS flight to Copenhagen to inspect the Kingdom of Denmark once again!

Denmark is an hour ahead of the Republic of Ireland, so the 7pm flight got me to the Københavns Lufthavn (airport) a little after 10pm. As promised my friend Ilana was there to pick me up; as me, Ilana doesn’t own a car - apparently the Danes like to tax behaviors and things they want to discourage (of which smoking appears to be not one of them), so they tax private cars for example north of 300% of the purchase price. It’s a good idea not to buy one.

If this would have been Dublin, the late arrival would have meant either waiting 30 mins for the next Aircoach (a privately owned bus service) to take me to my neighborhood, or dropping about €30 on a Taxi downtown (yes, Dublin has indeed no rail connection .. or any public transport to speak of.. that connects the Airport to the city). But luckily this wasn’t Dublin. Or even like it at all.

Just outside the terminal doors is an underground train station in which an S-Train was sitting, ready for departure heading downtown. Shortly thereafter we changed into the subway, and mere minutes after I had exited the baggage reclaim area, we were already in Ilana’s neighborhood. Copenhagen reminds me why I like large European cities. By and large, that is.

The next day was reserved for sightseeing – having not been here in ages, I had virtually… actually none whatsoever memory of anything. I’m sure I had seen the Little Mermaid before and looked upon the wondrous palaces and statues… but then again, maybe I was too busy eating ice cream and stealing candy instead (‘”sweets” for my Irish readers).

The 4 hour walk through the city gave me lots of opportunities for pictures and coffee stops, and I learned a great deal. Here is an excerpt:

The mermaid is on her 3rd head
The Danes believe that their flag fell from the sky
Smoking in cafes is perfectly fine
Alcohol isn’t nearly as taxed as in the other Scandinavian countries
Don’t buy the roasted almonds from the stand near the mermaid
The princess of Denmark is Australian
All the kings are called Frederick or Christian
The Danish prince could probably seriously kick Prince Andrew’s butt

A showing of “Blades of Glory” in original with Danish subtitles and some cheap but seriously good pizza concluded the day. The next day we slept in way too late, so that after a great breakfast in a smoky café I made my way back to the airport.

Oh yeah, pictures are - as always - on my smugmug account.

And the title is the motto of Denmark: The Help of God, the Love of the People, the Strength of Denmark

Radha mitchell climb quotsilent hillquot!

2007-01-15T16:20:00.000Z

I like to think that we have rather sophisticated spam filters here at Microsoft - the bulk of the unwatend mail never makes it into the corporate network, and most of those that slip by usually go straight into Outlook's junk mail folder - so it's always interesting to see what mails make it actually past all those safeguards into my inbox.

Today's was rather exciting in appearance and content:

A mail that well crafted must be telling the truth! Go and buy those CBFE shares now before all the sleeping investors realize the true potential!

A day of mourning.

2007-01-09T14:23:00.000Z

Like for so many other students across the world, they have provided nourishment for me through weeks and months of short budgets and busy schedules of mixing finals and dedicated multiplayer x-box gaming. Even in my poorly equipped student housing in Waco, TX, a warm meal with flavors vaguely reminding of chicken, beef, teriyaki, or even seafood could be provided instantly - with virtually no cleanup and no other required ingredients or preparation.

Granted, with temperatures often rising above 100 degrees Fahrenheit in summer, a warm meal wasn't required very often, but the economic advantages often outweighed the environmental circumstances. Bought in the right quantity at Costco, a single dollar's investment could feed me for almost an entire week!

Of course I am talking about Ramen Noodles. Those "blocks" of dried noodles coming with a little satchel of flavoring that have been copied by so many companies since their invention.

And that's just it! They were invented. Invented not by some anonymous corporation, but by some guy who - most likely - had a "vision" about the future of food and built a million dollar company around this vision. Now that guy is dead, passed away at the age of 96 near Osaka (Did he eat his own invention regularly? Are his noodles a secret to long life? Or lies the secret in their avoidance?).

I doubt many students have ever heard the name of Momofuku Ando, but no doubt they've enjoyed his vision of food. Truly a man that has made great strides for the quality of student life around the world. You may have already forgotten his name when reaching this sentence, but his food will forever hold a place in our hearts.

In fact - his departure has been of such significance that there is even an article about it in the NY Times Op/Ed.

Here's a link to the Official Ramen page. They even invite you to visit them on Times Square. It's not just food! It's fun too!

More real than real.

2007-01-06T14:56:00.000Z

After reading an article in the German news magazine "Der Spiegel", which described in detail the new HDR (High Dynamic Range) photography a few days ago, I decided to take a look at it myself. Should there finally be an alternative to graduated neutral density filters?

The problem that often plagues photographers is as follows: Cameras have a very limited capability of recording contrast, so images of motives very rich in contrast will invariably have to exhibit some trade-offs, some corner-cutting.

Let's take a run-of-the-mill sunset image for example: A darkening mountainous landscape with exciting textures and shades of rock and snow; above the mountains a bright fabulously lit sky filled with pink and red clouds.

When taking a picture without the help of any tools, it usually comes down to two options - either adjust the settings to optimize for the bright sections of the image, and thus losing all other areas to the shadows (in our example a fabulously lit sky, but the foreground is dark as night and will lose all it's features and texture), or optimize for the darker parts of the image, and thus "burning" out the bright areas (the sky will turn completely white or pink and the individual clouds would be lost).

Traditionally this problem has been solved with so-called "neutral density" filters - essentially slabs of glass that are mounted in front of the camera and which have the upper half darkened, and the other one as clear glass. This allows to artificially darken one half of the image, and allows the photographer to expose the image longer without burning out the bright areas. It works great for images where there is a clear, straight line separating the bright from the dark sections of the image (like a horizon). It's not that great when patches of bright and dark are all over the image.

Instead of trying to get all the information into a single image, for the new HDR technology three (or more) images are taken, and only later combined into a single new image. One of them is deliberately underexposed to record all features of the bright sections, one of them is normally exposed to capture the mid-range, and the third is overexposed to gather all information about the dark parts of the image. I was curious about this, so I downloaded the sample software and took a series of high-contrast shots in Dublin yesterday.

First the three shots taken, the center one being the "normal" exposure. You can see the problems of the foreground being too dark (on the leftmost) or the sky being burned out (rightmost) quite well:

Then the combination with the Photomatix HDR tool:

The results are staggering: Every cloud of the sky is still visible, and so are the green color and the features of every plant in the foreground.

And this was just a few handheld shots in the afternoon. Using a tripod will produce much crisper results and much less ghosting. Some amazing examples can be found at the Photomatix website

The original Spiegel article which prompted me to try this myself can be found here

Autotranslation

2007-01-04T21:55:00.000Z

The first work week in this year is appropriate now nearly already again behind me - only for 51 up to the year 2008. As I this morning in the office came and with "Good morning", "bon Giorno", "Buenas slide", and "Bonjour" my team welcomed there and to me again once was noticeable, how much my team is more international here than it in talking moon ever was, thought I that it property an idea would perhaps be once for testing how much translation software in the last years became better. For this reason I wrote the today's entry into German, and to it by an automated Website translates. It would surprise me much if somewhat readable thereby comes out, but in any case much fun with to read.

(Altavista Babelfish: http://babelfish.altavista.com/tr)

Now the first week this year lies almost again behind me – only 51 up to 2008. When I came today tomorrow to the office and there with "Good morning", “ voucher of Giorno ”, “ Buenas of slides ”, and "Bonjour" mine team greeted and to me struck once again how much more internationally my team is here than it in Redmond one day I was, thought that it maybe a good idee would be to be tested once how much has better become übersetzungssoftware during the last years. That's why I have written the today's entry into German, and have translated afterwards by an automated website. It would surprise me very much if, besides, something readable comes out, but in any case read a lot of fun with.

(Im Translator: http://www.translation.paralink.com/)

Resolutions indeed!

2007-01-02T22:11:00.000Z

Instead of procrastinating like I would have done in the old year, this time I'll take the time and actually add some of the new pictures right away.

Glendalough - one of the "must see" destinations of Ireland, conveniently located only an hour's drive outside of Dublin.

That hour's drive would have posed an almost insurmountable obstacle for me, had it not been for my friend Ilana who recently left the US to work for Microsoft in Denmark (and who will enjoy a fabulous quality of living, paid for with a 55% tax bracket). We rented a fine little french vehicle that took us not only to Kilkenny and Wicklow, but also to the fabled site of Glendalough.

Apparently it used to be a remote site chosen by St. Kevin as his new home for its loneliness and the absence of other people. However, a bunch of his followers wanted to "share" this loneliness with him and moved there to learn from him, making this quickly one of the main religious sites in Ireland - probably not what good ol' Kevin had in mind.

I'll have to come back at some point in spring/summer to see the sight in full daylight and with the green environment it will no doubt have - in fall it's all a bit gray there.

Nevertheless, here are some snapshots (as always, a full gallery is on my picture site):

Resolutions...

2007-01-02T21:58:00.000Z

It's a new year - out goes 2006 with all its ups and downs, and in comes 2007 with a million plans and promises. I am sure that I'm not the only one who begins every new year with a number of resolutions* (like more sports, more pictures, more blogging, less sweets, finding true love) - that usually go out the window together with the Christmas decorations in less than two weeks.

But of course, this year it'll all be different.

This year I am going to stick with those resolutions! And to make sure that this will be the case I decided to go out and start taking some pictures and immediately put them up in my blog - that's catching two birds with one stone!

Admittedly, the first set of pictures was already taken a few weeks back when my friends Anne and Nate came over from the US and saved me from my car-less existence with a swell Avis rental car. We took a road trip up to Northern Ireland (which is a thrillingly unexciting border crossing only noticeable by gas prices suddenly being marked in Pound Sterling instead of Euros) to Belfast and the Giant’s Causeway – and I could have hardly asked for a greater introduction to the scenic Irish landscapes:

The Giant's Causeway is an area of 40,000 interlocking basalt columns resulting from a volcanic eruption. It is located about 2 miles (3 km) north of the town of Bushmills in County Antrim, Northern Ireland along the northeast coast of Ireland. It was declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO in 1986, and a National Nature Reserve in 1987 (by the Department of the Environment for Northern Ireland). In a 2005 poll of Radio Times readers, Giant's Causeway was named as the fourth greatest natural wonder in the United Kingdom. It's the centerpoint of many famous photos, notably the cover of the Led Zeppelin album Houses of the Holy. The Giant's Causeway is owned and managed by the National Trust. The tops of the columns form stepping stones that lead from the cliff foot and disappear under the sea. Most of the columns are hexagonal, however there are some with four, five, seven and eight sides. The tallest are about 12 meters (36 ft) high, and the solidified lava in the cliffs is 28 meters thick in places (Thanks again, Wikipedia).

After spending the night in a small B&B (of which we skipped that Breakfast because Anne made us get up at the crack of dawn) we made our way back to Belfast to hop on one of the famous “Black Cab” tours in which the driver takes you to the famous and infamous landmarks right there in the heart of the Northern Ireland conflict. While the open violence has subsided and doesn’t take a prominent spot in everyday news and media anymore, the hate and mistrust still runs deep between many Protestants and Catholics. A 10m wall divides Belfast, target for many a child to cast a stone across, separating the neighborhoods of both faiths. Massive steel gates in the wall can be closed at a moments notice to prevent acts of violence or retaliation. Having grown up in the 80s and 90s and seen much of the IRA and Northern Ireland violence on TV in that time, it is an odd feeling standing in front of the head office of Sinn Fein or the murals depicting the heroes of the Ulster Freedom Fighters.

The next set of pictures that I actually DID take this year will be showing off the Republic of Ireland, namely Glendalough.

I’m sure I’ll get around posting this soon – after all, it’s one of my resolutions.

* Being a big wikipedia fan and often relying on it to satisfy my thirst for immediate answering of questions I decided to look up the history of New Year’s Resolutions. It’s an interesting bit of trivia, but it also shows the flaws of the Wikipedia concept - too many cooks do in fact dilute the precision of the answer... or something like that:

The tradition of the New Year's Resolutions goes all the way back to 153 BC. Janus, a mythical king of early Rome was placed at the head of the calendar.[citation needed]

With two faces, Janus could look back on past events and forward to the future. Janus became the ancient symbol for resolutions and many Romans looked for forgiveness from their enemies and also exchanged gifts before the beginning of each year.

The New Year has not always begun on January 1, and it doesn't begin on that date everywhere today. It begins on that date only for cultures that use a 365-day solar calendar. January 1 became the beginning of the New Year in 46 B.C., when Julius Caesar developed a calendar that would more accurately reflect the seasons than previous calendars had.

The Romans named the first month of the year after Janus, the god of beginnings and the guardian of doors and entrances. He was always depicted with two faces, one on the front of his head and one on the back. Thus he could look backward and forward at the same time. At midnight on December 31, the Romans imagined Janus looking back at the old year and forward to the new. The Romans began a tradition of exchanging gifts on New Year's Eve by giving one another branches from sacred trees for good fortune. Later, nuts or coins imprinted with the god Janus became more common New Year's gifts.

In the Middle Ages, Christians changed New Year's Day to December 25, the birth of Jesus. Then they changed it to March 25, a holiday called the Annunciation. In the sixteenth century, Pope Gregory XIII revised the Julian calendar, and the celebration of the New Year was returned to January 1.

The Julian and Gregorian calendars are solar calendars. Some cultures have lunar calendars, however. A year in a lunar calendar is less than 365 days because the months are based on the phases of the moon. The Chinese use a lunar calendar. Their new year begins at the time of the first full moon after the sun enters Aquarius--sometime between January 19 and February 21.

Although the date for New Year's Day is not the same in every culture, it is always a time for celebration and for customs to ensure good luck in the coming year.

Weapons amnesty, Tikka Masala, and interesting vending machines.

2006-10-16T15:01:00.000+01:00

It's been a little over two weeks now that I have relocated to Dublin, Ireland. Right now I'm still in temporary housing (and will be for 2 more weeks until my apartment becomes available) in my hotel in the midst of the bustling Rathmines area. It's not so much that it feels weird to wake up in a hotel every morning, it's more that it appears to be the same hotel for 2 weeks now. That's quite different than my last trip.

Rathmines is considered a university district, providing affordable (whatever that means in Dublin) housing and entertainment to many students. That makes this area busy and filled with life around the clock. Dozens of pubs, clubs, super markets, and trendy stores line the Rathmines road, countless eateries make sure that the post-drinking munchies are always cared for.

The Irish cuisine isn't famous, and looking at some of the traditional dishes (that almost always include potatoes), it's not a surprise that it isn't. However, luckily the Irish have experiences a huge influx of people from all cultures and backgrounds, which in turn has brought a tremendous variety of food to the city. And to my utmost delight Indian food is right there at the forefront of universal availability. Chicken Tikka Masala seems to be a national favorite, and I have already had the chance to sample various versions of this dish that I have grown so fond of since my days in Seattle. Without doubt the best I have had so far comes from ....... And not only will they make you freshest take away food, they also offer freshly chilled and frozen food that you can just pick up and eat later. However, what's the most fascinating to me is that you can even buy Tikka Masala sauce in normal grocery stores at every corner - it's that common. In your face, Chutney's Wallingford! I'm sure when Nate and Anne come and visit me next month I'll make sure they get some Tikka Masala as well!

I have gotten used to driving on the left side of the road pretty well now, and I think the cars parked on the side of the road are in much less danger of getting their rear view mirrors shaved off by me (although I'm sure that I'm not the only one who thinks it's hard to judge how much room there is on the left - every day on my way to work I see plenty of parked cars with mirrors dangling by the wires of the adjustment motors).

Now that I'm not totally focused on driving but get the chance of taking in the envinronment while cruising around, I noticed the giant billboards for the weapons amnesty that comes to an end this October. I followed the link www.weaponsamnesty.com - expecting that maybe it's in relation to the disarmament of the IRA (albeit that was Northern Ireland) - but it turns out that a new weapon legislation is being introduced, which will provide harsh minimum sentences for posession of illegal firearms. Thank god I turned in my Heckler&Koch in Seattle already!

A quite exciting change between my last workplace for MSFT in Redmond and here is that they have vending machines in the restrooms, and neatly stacked between the different flavors of chewing gum, are the different flavors of condoms in the same machine. Now that makes you wonder what prompted them to put those up in the first place! Too many pregnancy leaves that drove up the personnel cost? Should the Irish be really such hot blooded spontaneous people? I might have misjudged them so far.

Baile Átha Cliath

2006-10-03T21:03:00.000+01:00

Even the best things come to an end at some time. It's been almost 9 months to the day that I left Microsoft and Seattle on a cold Saturday morning in January. My travels took me to the tropical heats of Costa Rica, the gorgeous women and wines of Argentina, the rugged wilderness of Patagonia, the birthplace of Moon and Sun in Bolivia, and the mysterious marks of civilizations long gone in Macchu Picchu and Nazca. I spent some time with my family and new family members, and had the chance to catch up with old friends.... but all good things have to come to an end some time.

Since Monday I am once again what's generally considered "gainfully employed" - and it's all new and very familiar at the same time. The reason it's all new is that I'm now living in Dublin, the capital of Ireland. A country I've heard a lot about, but until my job interview never had visited before. The reason it's very familiar, is that I'm once again working as a Program Manager for Microsoft Office - I even got my old email alias back!

In order to make relocating over here easier, my company is doing a lot for me: They picked me up right at the airport, for the first month I have temporary housing in a hotel in Rathmines (just 15 from the city center on foot), a rental car (with the steering wheel on the wrong side), and they even take care of taking all my stuff (which is still packed up from the US anyways) and bringing it to my new place in Dublin ... provided I'll find one in the next 4 weeks that is.

My first impressions of Ireland are great so far! It's not only that there is a pub at every corner, but I love the feeling of actually living in a city again - the streets are full with pedestrians at night, the stores stay open late, and the weather hasn't been terrible yet either. With a bit of luck I have already found my new place: It's a small mews in Ranelagh, located in a great neighborhood in walking distance of parks, shops, bars. Mews used to be the horse houses in the back alleys of the rich family homes. They have generally about the sizes of small townhouses, and are a unique Irish type of accomodation. The one I am interested in isn't officially on the market yet, but the real estate agent that Irish Relocation Services provided to help me find a new home seems to have an "in" with the landlord, so if things go well I'll post some pictures of my home-to-be soon!

A new role

2006-09-30T13:28:00.000+01:00

It turns out that I'm not only a 32-year old unemployed, carless, illegal alien, tech worker that lived for a few weeks with his mom... No! Since a few weeks I've also slipped into the new role of being an uncle. Meet Matti, my new nephew! Or am I the new uncle? Chicken/Egg anyone?

Of course I do realize that this new responsibility will demand a lot from me - after all, who else is responsible for ensuring that careful parental education and set boundaries go right out the window if not the do-no-good uncle that is criss-crossing the planet? In order to properly introduce myself to the little fellow, I decided to pay another short visit in Berlin before moving out to Dublin. I can't wait for the little guy to come and visit me for the first time. I'm sure he'll enjoy Guinness.

These are just a few quick shots I grabbed from my small camera and uploaded from my hotel room in Dublin - I'm sure once I get my real camera and desktop back I'll add all those pictures that are still trapped in the depths of my moving boxes. And as it is with baby pictures, I'm sure I'll take a whole boatload more pretty soon as well.

In the meantime, view the gallery of my last two Berlin trips here.

Moving on...

2006-09-30T12:37:00.000+01:00

It seems that – just like diaries – blogs experience short phases of neglect and silence. Or long phases.

My last entry closed with my trip to Lago Titicaca and then onwards into Peru to see the famous and mysterious sights of Machu Picchu and the Nazca lines. Much has changed since this last entry over four months ago…

Before delving into the new developments in an effort to make blogging again a regular habit to inform friends and family about my whereabouts and daily experiences abroad, I should probably provide closure on the South America trip first – a trip the like I had never done before, and probably will never be able to do again.

After leaving La Paz I headed to a small lakeside city at the shores of Lago Titicaca from which I visited the birthplaces of Sun and Moon – the most sacred site in Inca Mythology. I had now moved into former Inca territory, and the abandoned ruins with the skilled masonry of the Incas were now scattered throughout the area.

After another long bus haul to the City of Puno – a small city at the lake on the Peruvian side – I enjoyed a day trip to the famous floating islands and the remote island of Taquite. The floating islands served as a protective mechanism from persecution – on land the resident Indians faced war and assaults from other tribes, on the large islands, created by piling bundled layers of reed on top of each other, they remained save.

From there on I headed to Cuzco, the gateway town for trains departing for one of South America’s biggest attractions altogether. After a painstakingly slow train ride from here I arrived at the city of Agua Calientes, nestled in a narrow valley below densely forested mountains. A winding road with countless switchbacks propelled me to the heights of narrow mountain ridge from which I can lay eyes on it for the very first time: Machu Picchu. More impressive than any postcard or picture it towers high above the valley and river flowing below on a stretch of rock that seems impossible to hold a city. It is no wonder that the Spaniards never discovered this city during their conquest, and it was only rediscovered in the early 20th century.

Back again in Cuzco I am beginning the home stretch of my journey, which will lead me to Lima where I will have to catch a plane that will take me back to Austin and then via Cuba and Seattle back to Europe. I decide not to take the direct route to Lima, but instead stop for a day to take a quick glance of yet another one of South America’s famous mysterious sites: The Nazca lines. Highly accurate shapes and lines depicting animals, people, and unknown entities carved into the rock – in a size only truly appreciable from high up in the air. Many theories have emerged how and why these lines were created, but none has ever been proven.

My time in South America had come to an end… it was over 5 months that I had set out for Costa Rica to brush up my Spanish, now, thousands of sleepless miles in overland buses and dozens of cheap accommodations later, I was in Lima, waiting for my flight that would take me out to Austin, back to Heather and Mat, and onwards back to my friends in Seattle and Europe.

After some time at home now, I managed to get a compilation of some of the nicest pictures into a single gallery on my smugmug site, yet it doesn't allow me to sort it chronologically... maybe some other time.

Touching the sky....

2006-05-20T21:25:00.000+01:00

La Paz, Bolivia: At an altitude of over 3600m (11,000ft), nestled in a valley in the shadow of the Cordillera Real (a part of the Andes) lies La Paz, the capital of Bolivia (overlooking for a moment that the judicial capital of Bolivia really is Sucre, but with the palace of the president, the congress, and the vast majority of the people and financial muscle of the country, La Paz is the de-facto capital).

Coming from the small, remote town of Uyuni, the difference could hardly be any more stark. Sure, people still speak Spanish (or Quechua for that matter)and women still wear traditional dresses and boulder hats - but just as common an occurence on the street at they are the businessmen in fine tailored suits and the teenagers in clothes that could put them smack into Buenos Aires, Berlin, or Seattle as well. La Paz is a bustling city with skyscrapers and fast food restaurants (yes, Burger King and McDonalds have made their way here, too), computer stores and movie theaters (I watched Mission Impossible III here).

"The shoestring", how I have heard my comprehensive Lonely Planet "South America" guide being referred to, usually offers a few sound suggestions for accomodation in any given city - but whenever I get the chance I actually follow the recommendations of other fellow travelers for a new city. A guide book is quickly outdated, and people who have just lodged somewhere a few days or weeks ago have usually a better grasp on the current state. So for my accomodation in La Paz I followed the advice given to me by an Argentinean couple during my Salar de Uyuni trip (and they were a nice elderly couple - if they liked the place, it couldn´t be that bad).

The place that I stayed in here was the "Hotel Torino" - smack in the middle of La Paz only half a block from the cathedral and the presidential palace, and right down in the middle of all the action. Renovated in the 50s it probably wasn´t anywhere near what I would have called "nice" in the states, but for here it was more than sufficient - and that for 50 Bolivianos for a single room with private bath (about USD $6), who can complain?

In order to get a better view of the city, I started hiking up one of the slopes of the valley - in the midday heat a very sweaty business, made a bigger challenge by the fact that the air at this altitude contains a lot less oxygen, so you are out of breath really quickly. After I made it about half way up, I wisened up and asked one of the locals which "micro" could get me up the rest of this slope. "Micros" are little mini-buses that have about 9-12 seats and constantly commute between popular places (in my case the cementary and the top of the hill, Ceja), and for 1 Boliviano (about 12 cents) you can hop on and ride along. I had worked my way up this slope for 1.5 hours, and now I learned that for less than a quarter I could have gotten a ride up AND down again! Needless to say that I didn{t waste much time and stopped the next micro going in my direction. The view from above was spectacular (see picture). La Paz appears antirely brown due to the fact that houses made of plain bricks are "finished" without any cover or paint (to me they always appeared as half-finished constructions, until I realized that they were considered done).

Another adventure to be done in La Paz is to visit the Mercado Negro, the black market. While apparently most of the business conducted here these days is legal, that wasn´t always the case. The market is essentially a maze of market stands and boothes that spreads over several blocks selling everything from shoelaces to fleece pullovers, from fish to office supplies. Many streets are completely blocked for traffic and only very narrow walkways allow you to meander through the labyrinth of merchants. Luckily it is really easy to get your bearing in La Paz (since whenever you head downhill you will hit the main throughfare), otherwise many a visitor might get lost in this part of town.

After only two days in La Paz I headed on to Lake Titicaca - excited to yet again move to another famous landmark of South America, yet sad to feel like not having given La Paz the time it deserved (more from the Lake and it´s highlights the next time). Among the cities that I have visited during this trip, La Paz was a definite highlight ranking almost up there with Buenos Aires (and you know how much I loved Buenos Aires).

(Images from La Paz in this gallery.)

There isn't enough soup to salt...

2006-05-14T17:45:00.000+01:00

Uyuni, Bolivia: Yesterday I took a one day trip through the Salar de Uyuni, the largest salt lake in the world. It's bound to get smaller, as the Bolivians are scraping off the salt on the sides and process it into table salt, but with 12,000 km square and a thickness between 20cm and over a meter, we'd have to salt a whole lot of soup to make a dent into this salar.

The most common way to see the area around Uyuni (which includes some spectacular volcanoes, a few lagunas and more thermal hot springs) is to book a 3 or 4-day tour that takes you around all those sights in a 4x4 (on a side note, EVERY SINGLE CAR that runs these tours is a Toyota Landcruiser... if they weren't all stolen from Chile, this would made a great advertisement for Toyota), spending the nights in very simple refuges at temperatures below zero. Since I had my fix of "spending the night sub-zero" and have already taken a bath in some hot springs, I figured a one day tour would suffice for my needs.

The tour left around 10:30am and the driver picked up 7 passengers total that had to squeeze into the car. Luckily I was picked up first, so I got the passenger seat next to the driver with the best view and most space. After another short stopover to pick up some food for lunch, we took off.. of course not quite yet to the salt lake, but to the first "tourist stop" where we could by handicrafts, e.g. ashtrays and figurines made from salt, traditional hats and scarves, etc. I bought two traditional hats (I had been planning to get those for some time, so why not now) and will take one of them back for my sister in Germany. I suppose I need to start thinking about other gifts to bring home to friends and family...

After that we finally set off into the salt lake - and it's an amazing sight. I have never in my life seen anything that flat that stretches out over such a vast area. The driver didn't really have to do much other than steering the car in the general direction and let the car go.... no need to steer if there are no obstacles (other than a dead flamingo every now and then). After about an hour of driving, only interrupted by a short stop to witness the salt being shoveled into large trucks for processing in Oruro, we reached the Island of the Incas in the midst of the salt lake.

Now I am not sure why the heck Incas would see the need to have an outpost on an Island in a salt lake with absoultely nothing around for 80km in each direction, maybe they liked the cactuses there.... and the view certainly was swell too, but I imagine that getting water there without the help of a Landcruiser must have been quite the effort.

We spent a few hours in the area to take pictures, had lunch, and took more pictures. Every Landcruiser seemed to stop on this island - and pretty soon the more ludicrous among the travelers started playing soccer and dancing at 4000m altitude in the desert sun.

Later in the afternoon we started our treck back only to stop occasionally for some picture opportunities along the way. I could have spent countless hours taking pictures there (and in fact I did take about 200 fotos). The route back took us along the Hotel de Salar - which is a building constructed entirely of salt. The walls, chairs, tables - even the beds are made of salt. It's a functioning hotel and for some ridiculous amount of money you can spend the night there, instead we headed back to the rim of the salt lake to wait for the sunset. It wasn't as spectacular as I had imagined (further inside the salt lake the colors would probably have been more amazing), but the total flatness of the surface made for some great shadows.

After the sun had disappeared and only the faint glow of orange was left on the horizon, we packed up and made our way back to the town of Uyuni. The rising moon behind the Andes made for another quick stop for us photo enthusiasts, and around 7pm we were back at our hotels.

Today I will be leaving Uyuni again and heading to La Paz. Like always around here, the buses leave only in the evening, so I have to kill the day here catching up on email and news, and around 8pm get ready for another 14 hour ride. I got a tad smarter this time and booked myself on a bus with heating... and just to be sure I have packed my sleeping bag separately. You never know...

Venezuela had to go...

2006-05-12T20:48:00.000+01:00

Uyuni, Bolivia: Another couple days have passed - I have gone yet farther up north and crossed borders into Bolivia for the very first time in my life.

I took another one of those fancy buses out of Santiago de Chile - and experienced the best that traveling through these means has to offer. I booked myself for the bargain price of 29.000 Pesos a so-called cama(==bed) seat - and it´s like flying first class on an airplane. You get a little pillow and a blanket, the steward comes through every now and then and brings some food and drinks, the seats recline almost all the way - and they are actually more comfortable than most hostel beds. A few movies are shown and in what feels like no time at all, you have another few hundred miles under your belt. I only had a ticket to Calama (CHI), but was lucky enough to spot a bus at the bus terminal that was heading the direction of San Pedro de Atacama, and for a meager 1000 Pesos they allowed me to hop on board and dropped me in San Pedro.

San Pedro de Atacama is - according to the Lonely Planet guide - THE backpacker´s gathering point of northern Chile. Notable sights here include the Salar de Atacama (the driest desert in the world and apparently the third largest salt lake after Uyuni and Salt Lake city), the Valley of the Moon and some Inca ruins. The town itself is kinda cute, with plenty of hostels and tour organizers - and even in this off-season it is packed with tourists - nestled in a small oasis of an otherwise dry and otherwordly desert. To see some of the surroundings I hopped on a Moon-valley sunset trip (the sunset wasn´t as spectacular as running down the dunes in Death Valley), and a Geysir trip for the next morning.

That geysir trip was quite amazing: A minibus picked us (me and about 10 other very sleepy people) up at our hotels at 4am in the morning, and the next 2 hours the little bus crawled on desert roads through potholes and dried out river beds from 2400m up to 4500m into the crater of a volcano. Surrounded by steaming geysirs we watched the sun slowly rise and create an eerie atmosphere (pictures to follow, as always) and the -8 degrees celsius quickly turned us into icicles. To warm up we headed over to the hot springs for a quick bath - another first for me, neither had I ever bathed at this altitude (more than 13,000ft), nor with outside temperatures like that.

Beign a slave to the bus schedules, I discovered that the only buses from San Pedro to Uyuni left either that very same night (Wednesday) or on the following Sunday, so I had to pack my things after only one night here, abandon my already paid room and jump on another 19 hour bus ride. This time I should experience the worst that bus travel has to offer.

Without any trouble I made the 20:30 bus from San Pedro back to Atacama, where the next bus should take me at 23:00 to Uyuni in Bolivia. That bus looked already a lot sketchier than the previous buses I had taken, and soon after departure I should discover that neither the toilet worked, nor the heating. Neither of these seem like a big deal when you are thinking of taking a bus from downtown Seattle to Redmond, which is only a 20min ride - but if you will be on the bus for 5 hour stretches without stop - on a route taking you from 2400m altitude to over 4000m altitude (that´s about the height of Mt. Rainier), both of those are becoming pretty big deals. What gets worse is that - unannounced to us foreigners, but apparently a normal custom in this area - the bus arrived at the Chilenean/Bolivian border at 3am, and would just sit there waiting until the border opens at 8am, no heating, no engine running, nothing. The local passengers were all informed and well-prepared, they had thick blankets and sleeping bags. Three other foreigners (french canadians on their way to an orphanage in which they volunteered) and I had no idea. Our sleeping bags and warm clothes were safely stored in the hold...

The minutes crept along. Luckily I was wearing both fleece jacket and shell, but was only wearing my hiking pants, which are one htin layer of cloth. It was cold. Very cold. Every time I looked on my watch only 6-8 minutes had passed, it turned 4am, then 4:30am. My legs were freezing. At 5am, wiht the sunrise and a little more warmth still 5 hours away, I had the idea to stuff some paper into my pants in order to insulate them a little better. What could i use? There were no used newspapers on the bus, and all I had was my diary, El Viejo y el mar, and the "South America on a shoestring" guide from lonely planet. That was the solution! There were still countries in this book that I wouldn´t visit on this trip - for example Venezuela! Quickly I ripped the Venezuela section out of the book, crumbled up the pages and stuffed them in my pants - finally there was a little more between the sub-zero temperature air and my legs than only one layer of cloth. That sealed the deal on me not visiting Venezuela on this trip, but it was worth it: It helped a lot.

Needless to say that the last 2 hours didn´t pass much faster, and I can only begin to describe the joy when suddenly a faint glow became visible on the horizon. Day was near! It would still take another huor until the first rays of sunshine would hit the bus, but one of the longest nights of my life was finally nearing an end. Like the 3 French Candians I hadn´t closed an eye throughout this night... not for more than 8 minutes at a time at least.

A few hours later I would arrive safely in Uyuni, Bolivia - home to the largest Salt Lake on earth. Tomorrow I will jump on a 4x4 jeep to see the highlights of this lake and hopefully take some more pictures...

A small celebration.

2006-05-06T22:55:00.000+01:00

Santiago de Chile: It´s been 4 months now since I left my work in Seattle and began this journey. Time sure does fly.

I just treated myself to a nice dinner in an Italian restaurant in the fancy Bellavista district of Santiago to celebrate the occasion, alone. Quite fitting for my current state of mind. After four months on the road I am starting to get a little worn out. Every other night in a different city, in a different bed. Meeting new people but never spending enough time to actually getting to know them, constantly seeing new and exciting new things but always on the move to see the next one. It's like living life with the fast=forward button pressed. I am slowly getting ready for a break, ready to be around old friends and my own things again. I must be getting old.

The last few days have been very nice - after a great farewell dinner with my friends from the Navimag boat who then headed in their own respective directions - North, West, and East -, I did a day trip to see the section of the Andes west of Mendoza, the Puente del Inca (Inca bridge), and catch a glimpse of the highest summit of the Americas and the Western hemisphere - the Aconcagua (that part wasn't all that successful).

The following day I took another bus across the Andes (again) to Santiago de Chile, the capital of Chile. It's a huge city, very European in appearance, with a terrible smog problem. I spent two days here seeing the sights, walking the walk, and drinking the wine, and I have come to the conclusion that I like Buenos Aires better. Even though the location of Santiago appears nicer, with the Andes looming in the immediate backdrop of the city, the fact that you can only see them from top of one of the mountains in the city because the smog prohibits it otherwise makes this a whole lot less appealing. Sunset in Santiago begins an hour earlier than in the rest of Chile, simply because the smog reduces the sunlight that comes through so significantly.

In the center of the city on the Plaza de Armas is the cathedral, while touring the city I had the luck to walk into a ceremony - I believe where new pastors were ordained in the church service. The cathedral was brightly lit, a singing chorus demonstrated the great acoustics the cathedral had, and hundreds of people were watching. True to the Latin American way of life the Santiago-ans had no problems using their cameras and cellular phones in the church, so I figured they wouldn't have any objections to me taking pictures either. They didn't.

After the civil uprising in Mendoza, I had the chance of witnessing the Chilenean police in action today. On my way to the center I walked into street that was closed off by the police. A guy with a knife had apparently broken into one of the (closed) side cafes and decided to stay there until the cops arrived. And now he didn't want to come out. By the time I got to the scene, the SWAT team had just arrived and was preparing to end this thing (I was so hoping to shoot a police brutality video on my own). Unfortunately a negotiator that appeared at the same time got the first shot at it, and after 15 more minutes of yelling and throwing around furniture in the cafe, the guy decided to give up (just as the police tried to enlarge the restricted area to give the SWAT more room to move in...). Rubber bullets, mass arrests, stand-offs, and SWAT - you could think I am in the latin America of the late 70s and 80s.

Tomorrow I'll take another bus further north, taking me to the Atacama desert close to the Bolivian border. 22 hours... luckily I managed to get a so-called cama (=Bed) seat, which is pretty much like a first class airline seat. That should make this section a bit more bearable (it's about at 22.5 degrees, Nate - compare that to where we were in Punta Arenas..)

Shot through the heart...

2006-05-03T18:52:00.000+01:00

Mendoza, Argentina: I got shot! Of course the title is exaggerating, I only got shot in my behind, and I wasn´t hurt either, except in pride.

The calm city of Mendoza isn´t all that calm after all! While touring the city a friend and I actually got caught in the middle of a civil uprising! While standing on the Plaza Italiana and taking some nice pictures of the fountain there, we suddenly heard gunfire and saw a large group (about 30-40) of 14-18 year old teenagers being chased by policemen on horses (and with shotguns!) right towards us. Realizing that running "with the herd" would only make us appear to be part of the fleeing crowd, we decided to stand right there behind the fountain and let them pass us. After all, having blond hair and being relatively tall makes you easily distinguishable as a foreigner down here.

The cops chasing the crowd shot another round of rubber pellets in the air to drive the crowd into a street they had sealed off - and one of those things hit me right in the butt as it came down!

As expected, the cops rode (or walked respectively) right past us and told us to get the heck out of this area. In the meantime they had locked in the crowd in a small, sealed off section of the street behind us, and we saw the 30 kids lying down on the road and grassy section of the park, face down, hands behind their heads.

Being good tourists of course we didn´t leave, but proceeded to sneak as close to the arrested juveniles and do some rubbernecking and picture taking. After another 20 minutes or so they were all loaded into an armada of Police cars that had arrived, and it was safe enough for us to return to the fountain and recover the rubber pellet - which I am now carrying around in my pocket.

The wine tasting yesterday was fine - we toured the Bodega Weinert and another smaller one. And even though we didn´t get a whole lot of wine to taste, you can´t go to Mendoza without doing a tour of some of the bodegas. To augment the lack of wine on the tour, we had another 6 bottles in our hostel afterwards.

Tomorrow I´ll finally do the tour around Aconcagua and the Puente del Inca - only to afterwards leave Argentina for good and turn up north through Chile into Bolivai and Peru. No more great steaks and fine wines - it´ll be mostly potatoes from here on (with the little exception of Santiago, where I hope to finally satisfy my craving for Sushi and Licorice - which are nowhere to be found here).

A little tip for the road: Don´t ever try to mail a sword from here to the UK.

Out of Patagonia...

2006-05-01T20:59:00.000+01:00

Mendoza, Argentina: From Puerto Montt, Chile, I have crossed the Andes once again, thus heading back into Argentina and to the famous Argentinean party town of Bariloche. After having spent a few days there I have continued my journey northwards along the Andes to the town of Mendoza - the heart of Argentina´s wine and meat production. A good place to stay for a few days to update the blog, upload some pictures, and prepare the next leg of the trip. Oh yes, and to taste some wine. It´s been almost 4 months now since I left Seattle.

After having spent a day in Puerto Montt I came to the conclusion that I wouldn´t have missed an awful lot, had I followed some of the guys from the boat that imediately proceeded on their trip on to Bariloche. Puerto Montt is a little harbor town (about 150000 inha.) whose main connection with tourism is people getting on or off the boat to Puerto Natales, and those people passing through that want to visit the Isla de Chiloé, an island of wild and untamed nature and lush vegetation. The hostel (Rocco Backpackers) that the lads from Kawashkar and I stayed in was clean and not too expensive, run by the females of 3 generations of a family (truth be told, the little one, Kristina, is only 4 years old, so she doesn´t run much there, other than the TV). The town itself, however, is dodgy and even the locals tell you to not go out at night, especially alone. We followed that advice and had a few beers and watched "The Incredibles" for the 5th time.

The other lads that had stayed in the hostel were planning to continue on to Pucón, while I was heading for Bariloche. So before anyone else was up I left the hostel to catch my 8am bus across the Cordillera de los Andes back into Argentina.

Bariloche couldn´t be any more different from Puerto Montt. It´s on the dry side of the Andes, so there was no more of the misty and cloudy weather. And where Puerto Montt shone with run down buildings and a generally depressed mood to it, Bariloche lives up to the image of a party city that it is. Even during this "shoulder season" before the ski tourists start flocking to town, it was filled with tourists that came for rafting, horse riding, climbing, or 4x4 riding. Argentineans and foreigners alike. The heavy tourism in this city makes it more expensive than other parts of Argentina, so I decided to limit my visit to a few days and stay in a hostel again (Periko´s on Morales 555 - named after a dead dog, and it was a great, friendly place to stay).

After a day of hiking in the area and having met a few people from the boat in Bariloche again - and celebrating accordingly at the local Irish Pub "Wilkenny" that had Kilkenny on tab, I decided to go on a horse riding trip the next morning. Severly hung over, but a few hours on the back of a horse riding through the sparse patagonian steppe should be able to cure that. And it did indeed - after a few hours out there, guided by Pablo and his faithful - albeit overweight - yellow lab, we had a great time touring the estancia like real gauchos. I could have purchased my horse - Piñon - right there for only a few hundred peso! Why not? Spending a few weeks more and traveling by horse instead of Bus would be a fine idea. Hadn´t I tried to alternate means of transportation so far?

Of course, instead of taking Piñon on the next leg of my trip, I embarked on yet another epic-seming bus ride from Bariloche to Mendoza, 1276km further north - and for the first time in a few weeks a place outside Patagonia again. So far I had only scratched the surface of bus transportation in South America (7 hours is nothing!) - during this trip I got the full experience of the services offered by the bus companies. Just like Airlines they provide drinks and food, movies, pillows - the 19 hours were goen in a blink.

So here I am in Mendoza. It´s a beautiful little city, located just east of the Andes, on almost the same latitude as Santiago de Chile. The climate is mild, the weather always beautiful, and the people friendly. I could imagine picking up a job here and working here for a while. And let´s not forget it´s the heart of the wine producing region of Argentina, too! What better place to live?

After a first "wine tasting" experiment Susi and I performed (one of the travelers of the boat that seems to have the same route) where we downed 4 bottles of red wine over the course of an evening and got quite intoxicated, today 5 of us (all from the boat ride, reunited here again) are heading for a REAL wine tasting, touring two bodegas and having more wine and some nice food in a third one. As good tourists we won´t spit out the wine we are tasting. Take it all in!

The others are heading on to Santiago or Buenos Aires tomorrow again, while I have decided to stay for a day or two more to tour the Aconcagua mountain and the sights on the Chilenean border (The Aconcagua is the highest mountain in the Americas and the Western Hemisphere, over 6900m high. Can´t miss seeing that one). After that I´ll head over to Santiago as well and make my way further up north.

Chimichurri

2006-04-27T02:17:00.000+01:00

...de "El Boliche de Alberto".

1kg de perejil (saucina)

4 dientes de ajo

Picar bien en procesadora y mezclar con 2 cucharadas soperas de orégano, ají molido y sal

En frasco de vidrio mezclar todo con 3/4 partes de aceite de mezcla y 1/4 parte de vinagre de vino

Guardar 1 mes como mínimo en la despensa.

Best. Salsa. Ever.

El que no se arriesga no cruza el mar.

2006-04-25T16:34:00.000+01:00

(Puerto Montt, Chile): The M/N Puerto Eden - 116.50mts long, 19.23mts wide and able to transport 4402 tons of cargo and 225 passengers - has safely delivered me 1000km further north into the warmer climate of Puerto Montt.

For the boat and crew it was just another trip, and after having just arrived here at 4am this morning, as I write this they are getting the boat ready for the return to Puerto Natales at 2:30pm today. After a thorough clean-up job I imagine.

For us passengers it was anything but a normal trip.

After checking in on Friday afternoon, we were finally able to board the boat at 9pm and store our luggage away in the tiny quarters that were to be our home for the next 4 days. 4 Persons to a state room that was barely 2m wide and just about 4m long - with very little means of ventilation. No dinner was served on this last night in Pto. Natales, and before breakfast the next morning - with many passengers still asleep - we set sail for Puerto Montt at 6am.

The weather wasn´t perfect onthise Saturday, but the narrow passages and low hanging clouds were ample material for dramatic scenery nonetheless. We spent the day reading and playing cards in the lounge or armed with our cameras on bridge or observation deck. The food that was served for lunch and dinner was plentiful, pisco, wine and whiskey made their rounds that night, and late at night we fell into a deep slumber. Life was good.

Well, until the next morning it was. Apparently the lasagne from the day before was a bit undercooked, so the next morning half of the passengers found themselves suffering fromdiarrheah, and the bathrooms found themselves quickly out of paper. Woe to those that hadn´t brought their 10 essentials on this trip. To make matters worse, this was also the day that we were leaving the sheltered waters behind the islands, heading into the open waters of the pacific. With meter-high swells many a stomach was quick in turning over any contents to the open sea, and many passengers spent the day leaning far over the reeling, the eyes fixed on the horizon and breathing deeply the fresh air, onlinterrupteded occasionally... I pity those that suffered from both diarrheaah and seasickness at the same time.

Needless to say that dinner was calm that night - less than 30 of the 80 passengers even bothered to show up. The next day however, it was all over. We had left the open waters and were once again in the calm Patagonian Channels, the weather had cleared up and so had many people´s digestive system. While spending the day on the top deck enjoying the sun and the increasingly warmer air (I should say "less cold") we had magnificent views on the rough Patagonian landscape and the abundant marine life in the channels. Besides seals and birds, we even saw dolphins and a whale - what a grand finale for such a mixed boat trip!

This night again we celebrated like the first time - with Pisco, Whiskey, Wine and Beer.... because at 4am we would arrive in Puerto Montt and all head our separate ways yet again.

Pictures as soon as I have time to upload them!

Nate as uploaded some of my images from Tores del Paine National Park - check them out here.

Being a good boy scout...

2006-04-19T18:55:00.000+01:00

Every boy scout, hiker, and climber knows that there is a set of "10 essentials" that you are supposed to carry with you whenever you set foot in the wilderness - whether for a short hike or for a multi-day trekking tour.

Is there a similar set of items that one should carry when heading to a foreign country? I think so... let´s see if it adds up to 10:

(1) Toilet paper
That handy roll stashed away to combat the constant lack of readily available paper in public and hostel toilets, it´s the replacement-tissue for the ever-dripping nose, or simply the kitchen-roll substitute, ready to clean and wipe dry whatever needs to be. Never leave without it.

(2) A spoon
I want to see you eat that yogurt at the bus station. And no, your tongue isn´t long enough to reach the bottom of that cup. If it is, the doors of certain industries are wide open for you.

(3) A knife
You go and cut that salami with your spoon. Wait. You didn´t bring a spoon either? Also useful to stab evil people in dark alleys.

(4) An ATM card
Unthinkable just a few years ago, today you can withdraw money from your home bank account through cash machines all over the world - from Cambodia to Tierra del Fuego. Traveller´s checks, while still a great backup to keep in your pocket, are increasingly harder to cash and require passport and business hours to obtain cash. It helps to have money in the bank to make this item more useful.

(5) Hand sanitizer
Two words say it all: Public Bathrooms.

(6) A notebook/diary
It´s not just a diary which helps you to keep track of the past - it´s also a great reminder for things to do or to take care of in the future. It will hold email adresses, phone numbers, directions to a hostel, or the newest cussword in a foreign language. Have a shopping list, your budget, or the numbers of the travellers checks you cashed always at your fingertips. Bring a pen to enhance usefulness.

(7) Duct tape
How to seal off that gap under the door, through which the spiders crawl in at night? Duct tape! How to keep that handle from falling off the pot? Duct tape! How to quickly fix that hole in your stuff bag? Duct tape! It´s like a McGyver on a roll!

(8) Imodium
Especially when you ignore #5, this little pill will make your life less miserable. More than invaluable when you have to get ready for a 11-hour bus ride the next morning. Or you already ARE on the bus ride (I hope you did listen to bring #1 then).

(9) Dictionary
Even though I have no doubt it would be hilarious to watch, explaining to the pharmacist in gestures and drawings that you need Imodium might be too time consuming and humiliating. A few words in the right language here and there can save you from a lot mockery.

(10) A second wallet
Keep your valuable posessions hidden in a money belt and carry the money you need over the course of the day and some unimportant cards and papers in a second wallet in your pocket. You´ll have much less of an interruption of your trip if you have to surrender that second wallet instead of the one with your passport, tickets, bulk of money (This item was actually mentioned to me by my friend Michael a few years ago. Thanks again!).

There you go. Don´t ever leave your country without these.

Now I´ll continue waiting for my ferry. 30 more hours.
I need to buy new toilet paper.

Godot should show up any minute now...

2006-04-19T18:01:00.000+01:00

(Puerto Natales, Patagonia, Chile) The inherent problem with ferries that sail on a weekly schedule is that... well it takes a week from one departure to the next, so all you can do in between is waiting.

I have left Punta Arenas yesterday and took one of those fancy air-conditioned, toilet-equipped, non-stop, frequently going buses that make traveling down here so easy back to Puerto Natales. After a movie-watching marathon in my hostel last night, there is still another 48 hours to go until I can board the ferry which will take me over the course of 5 days to Puerto Montt, 1000km (600 miles) further north - surely it will be much slower than any bus, but I hope that the trip through the Patagonian Channels offer me views that I couldn´t experience otherwise. Until then I have more than enough time to explore the areas of Puerto Natales I haven´t seen... and then another 45 hours to spare.

The tourist season here seems to come to an end - like I did a week ago I am staying in the Hostel Kawashkar, but this time with far less people around than before. The streets and restaurants reflect that as well, and a few weeks from now the tourist stream heading to and from the Torres del Paine National Park will have slowed down to a trickle, and Puerto Natales will return to being a quiet harbor town.

By and large the Argentinean and Chilenean sides of southern Patagonia are very similar in that it is cold, the weather is harsh and changes quickly, the landscape is beautiful and the streets are crap, the people are generally friendly, and even the spoken Spanish isn´t radically different. What IS different, however, is the cuisine!

It´s not only the absence of empanadas (those tasty patries filled with meat, onions, cheese, etc.) and "Tenedor Libres" (it´s like a buffet - you pay once and can keep on stacking your plate with meat from the BBQ) - which were widely available in Argentina. What is the most striking difference is coffee. Argentineans love their espressos and consume these (or cafés con leche) after every meal and in between if there is time. Espresso machines are readily available in every restaurant! In Chile, however, what you are most likely to get when ordering a coffee is a cup of hot water and a box of instant coffee. Make it yourself! Just today at lunch I ordered a café con leche (coffee with milk) and received a cup with microwaved milk and a little shaker with instant powder. It wasn´t as bad as I feared, but I think the waitress was secretly laughing in the kitchen about me.

All that said, the Chilenean kitchen I have experienced so far has been very tasty and interesting as well. The region XII (Los Magallanes) is known for it´s abundant and flavorful Salmón (Lachs, Salmon) - and after a healthy portion of Salmón a la plancha (literally "ironed" Salmon) I understand why. Besides that there is a lot of barbequed sheep, a variety of "burgers" with different meats and sauces (lomitos, churrascos), and luckily still the tasty "Chorizos" I know from Argentina, little spicy sausages made of everything left from the pig that isn´t cut up otherwise. I´ll have a few of those for dinner tonight.

Países remotos, hechos heroicos, mujeres bonitas,...

2006-04-15T20:51:00.000+01:00

Estrecho de Magallanes - Strait of Magellan, Punta Arenas: The strait Fernando Magellan discovered in 1520 during his famous journey around the world, a navigable connection between Atlantic and Pacific Ocean which made it no longer mandatory to sail around the dangerous Cape Horn.

For the first time in my life I am in Chile, and the city of Punta Arenas is the southernmost point that this trip will take me to - from here on it´s all north all the time. And really, there isn´t a whole lot more south to go. Across the strait lies Tierra del Fuego, and beyond that is only Antarctica. Just 200km north of here lies the famous Torres del Paine National Park - considered one of the most spectacular hiking and climbing locations in the world, and an must-visit location for any trip down here. Despite prior concerns whether the weather would allow us to see anything - or even allow us to complete the "W" tour, Nate and I set out with tent and supplies for a few days last week. And we were rewarded with spectacular sights: Glaciar Grey and the Patagonian Continental ice plate, floating icebergs, the Torres. We were considerably exhausted by the end of the trip, but no doubt was this a milestone not to be missed.

Punta Arenas itself is a rather dull place. We are staying in the "Calafate Hostel y Turismo", a moderately priced hotel that has seen better days, but offers clean beds and fast internet service downstairs. When Nate leaves I´ll have to look for another place to stay. The city itself doesn´t have much to offer - indicated by the waitress asking us at dinner yesterday simply whether we are "Heading to the park or coming from it". It´s all Torres del Paine all the time. Before the Panama Canal was opened, Punta Arenas played a major role as refueling harbor for trips between the Pacific and Atlantic, not much of that is left today. A moderate excitement for the town was the visit of the oil drilling rig "GSF Constellation II", which stayed for a few days for repairs before being loaded onto a huge transporting vessel and hauled off to Egypt. Nate and I were lucky enough to be witness to the loading procedure - a painfully slow yet fascinating process. When do you ever get the chance to see a huge 150m tall drilling platform being loaded on a boat?

Getting around overland is easy. As we had read many times before in the countless guide books that we brought along, the bus is the most convenient, fastest, and most affordable means of transportation. For the 5 hour bus ride from El Calafate (ARG) to Puerto Natales (CHI) we paid $16 USD, for the 240km ride from Puerto Natales down to Punta Arenas we only paid $3 USD.

This trip also introduced Nate to "Hostels" - and all the goodness that comes with them. From shared bathrooms and kitchens, to the shared snoring in the dorms and the shred living rooms in which conversations esily start and new friends are quickly made. Incredibly, many of the people that you meet in one hostel you´ll see at some other point during your trip again. Another hostel, another city, another country - the same faces. Many of the people staying with us are traveling for a lon period of time like I am. Some have just started their trip, others are already 9 month on the road and ready to head home - but the itineraries are often similar: See as much of South America as possible. Soak it all up. And maybe pick up some Spanish on the way.

Tomorrow Nate and my time will come to an end - he is taking a bus from Punta Arenas back to Puerto Natales and onwards back to Calafate, while I will remain a few days longer down here and eventually take a ferry 1000km up north to Puerto Montt. He will have to go back to work while I will continue zig-zagging north through Chile and Argentina into Bolivia and Peru.

I haven´t had the chance to upload any pictures lately, but luckily I was able to burn a bckup of all my imagenes on two DVDs, so I can free up some space on my memory cards again. Ah the hassle that traveling with modern deviced brings along. Where can I charge my backup harddisk now?

(The title for today´s entry is a quote taking from Ernesto "Che" Guevara´s book "Notas de viaje" and describes the expectations he had towards his trip: "Remote countries, heoric deeds, and beautiful women".)

Back at the end of the world!

2006-04-06T15:37:00.000+01:00

After 3 years I am back in Argentinean Patagonia, backtracking a few of the places that I went to last time, and trying to see some new places that I simply didn´t have the time to visit last time.

Last week Nate joined me in Buenos Aires, and after a few days of sightseeing, we took a flight down to El Calafate, Santa Cruz. First on the agenda was the glaciar Perito Moreno - a massive block of ice that moves about a meter and a half each day, so over the course of an afternoon you have the chance to see plenty of huge ice blocks crashing into Lago Argentino. The sound that the ice makes when it breaks and hits the water is so loud, you´d believe you are suddenly in the midst of a thunderstorm. While the weather wasn´t as great this time around, this gallery has a few nice shots of the glaciar and the pieces falling into the water from my last visit.

The next day we took a bus up to El Chaltén, a little town whose main business is the accomodation of hikers and climbers. It sits at the northern entrance to the Parque Nacional Los Glaciares and serves as the gateway for all hikes and climbs leading to Cerro Torre and Mount FitzRoy.

Nate and I decided to spend 4 nights out there in our tent, carrying plenty of food and supplies in on a beautiful sunday afternoon, stopping occasionally to enjoy the gorgeous views on Cerro Torre as we approached our first campsite below the terminal moraine of the Glaciar Torre. The night revealed a sky as starry as it can only be seen in the remote corners of the world where no stray light brightens the horizon. It was amazing. And it was the last we´ve seen of the sky for the last 4 days.

Starting the next morning we were suddenly caught in a weather front that brought plenty of rain and wind gusts that approached hurricane strength. We spent the entire day in the tent and - after a long and windy night - decided to move to the second campsite the next day, in the hopes of a betterment in weather that would allow us to take some pictures of FitzRoy. While we broke down camp it had started snowing, and in worsening weather we slowly made our way north towards the second campsite "Poincenot". After setting up camp again we spent most of the day confined to the tent, with gusts blowing outside that made us fear for the well being of our tent. Not a glimpse of FitzRoy was caught.

After a total of 3 nights out in the weather we decided to head back to El Chaltén where we got some warm meals, comfortable beds, and a nice view on the famous Patagonian weather - this time from inside a warm shelter through the windows. Fall has begun to set it.

Tonight we´ll head back to El Calafate and will make our way to Puerto Natales, Chile, and onwards to Torres del Paine PN. As this parque is even further south, we are a bit concerned how the weather will influence our plans there. More rain to come. Possibly more snow. I need better gloves.

You can’t get a sauce as thick as…

2006-03-01T00:34:00.000Z

For a week I have now been in Buenos Aires, the capital of Argentina. Like no other city in South America this city has a very European feel to it. If it wasn’t for the Spanish speaking, you could easily imagine yourself in Paris or Berlin.

The Spanish, of course, is also the greatest obstacle in communicating with people. Even after several weeks of language training in Costa Rica, the Spanish over here is almost incomprehensible: It’s not only that every “ll” is pronounced like a “sh”, they also speak so fast here, that by the time I have deciphered the verb form in the first sentence, they have completed an entire story. It’s tough; I may take some more language classes here.

And I believe I have time for that, because for the last week the weather down here has been rather poor, heavy rain and thick clouds, but since I have been here before 3 years ago, I don’t feel like I miss out too much on the sightseeing at this point. Also, Nate will be here in 4 weeks, and I am sure he’ll want to tour the city as well. Places – among countless others - that we are bound to visit are of course

The Recoleta cemetery with Evita’s tomb

La Boca, the birthplace of Tango and home to one of the most famous soccer teams in the country.

Palermo Viejo, the hip and trendy area with all the nightlife

Plaza San Martin with the memorial to the Falkland War. Even today every map in Argentina still claims the Falkland Islands (“Las Malvinas”) as Argentinian territory

Plaza de Mayo with the Casa Rosada, the Mayor’s residence where most of Argentinean’s demonstrations have take place, including Evita Peron’s rallies of the people, and “Las Madres de Plaza de Mayo”

The Obelisk on the Avenida 9 de Julio, a grand landmark which stands for nothing but its own grandeur, but is a symbol of BsAs today

Debbie and Pauline, the two Scottish girls that I had met in Costa Rica, left yesterday morning, which leaves me largely without contacts in the city – I have yet to actually catch Georgina or hear back from a contact that my good friend Michael set me up with. That isn’t to say that I don’t meet any people – the Argentineans are very open and friendly, and more than once have I had a good conversation (often in broken English and broken Spanish) which ends in people sharing contact information in case I have any troubles or questions.

Michael, whom I met with Evelyn in Thailand last year, appears to be in Buenos Aires as well. However, we seem to both be hung over most of the time, so it may take some time until we actually meet up.

My accommodation, which I have obtained with the help of a friend of Hernan’s sister, is nicely located in the Microcentro on the Avenida Corrientes. It’s only two blocks from the Obelisk, only 3 blocks from the Calle Florida, a huge shopping street, and not much further from Puerto Madero (an area with plenty of restaurants and bars). Avenida Corrientes itself is comparable with Broadway in New York – it is home to all the big theaters showing old and new plays and musicals, with lots of smaller theaters (considered off-Corrientes) in the area. Just down the block is “El Hombre de la Mancha” playing, and with a bit of luck I should be able to get a ticket.

Restaurants in this part of town are on every corner, and most of them are quite good. What the Argentinean cuisine is best known for, is of course the fabulous meat as well as the wines from Mendoza – and rightfully so. I have emptied many a bottle of Malbec already, and plenty shall follow over the next weeks. Another dish on the local menus that cannot be left unmentioned is of course Empanadas. These dough pockets filled with meat, chicken, cheese or onions are a favored snack or alternative to a full lunch. Similar to donut stores in the US, there are entire fast food chains here that are specialized only on Empanadas (“Solo Empanadas”). Of course in a city like this, there is also virtually every other type of food available, yet I am still looking for a good Chicken Tikka Masala - all my attempts so far have only yielded Tikka chicken without sauce...

Argentineans eat late – 10pm is a common time to head to the restaurant for dinner, on Friday or Saturday nights it can easily be as late as 11 or 12pm, and the following visit to the bar or nightclub often takes until 6 or 7am. I have witnessed rush hours on a Saturday morning at 6am when everybody headed home from the clubs.

It’s 9:30pm. Time for dinner.

Strange Creatures

2006-02-19T23:34:00.000Z

I have made my way back from the Pacific Coast into the center of Costa Rica. The climate up here is a lot nicer, and I like the view of the mountains and the light breeze. Yesterday I wore real shoes for the first time in weeks - before that it was just flip flops. Today I am wearing jeans again, which I had stashed away 5 weeks ago. After 5 weeks - change is good.

Right now I am sitting in the Intenet section of a B&B close to the airport, where I had to convince the owner to let me hook up my own laptop instead of using the archaic PI machines they use to provide internet access (often the problem here isn't as much in the connection speed, but rather lies in the fact that the computers can't handle running IE and Messenger at the same time).

A lot of things have happened since I last updated the blog. The time to go to Monteverde came and passed.... like so often you meet people and decide to alter your travel plans. I may have to come back to CR so that I can see the rain forest as well.

Also two of the more memorable moments I'll take away from Costa Ricahaveoccurredd over the last weeks as well:

Last week on Friday night we went to watch the giant turtles (leatherback turtles), which lay their eggs at the Playa Grande, just north of Tamarindo. There used to be dozens of turtles arriving every night during the right season, but apparently their number has become less and less so that today a tourist can consider himself happy if a turtle arrives during the night.

They don't let the tourists loose on the turtles without any preparation, so once you get there you either chose to follow a short presentation in Spanish that is supported by 15 year-old overhead projector slides, or you watch a fancy movie for the English speaking tourists. Of course we chose Spanish - and barely understood a word.

After that the fun starts. Waiting. And waiting a bit more. Since the park rangers have no idea when a turtle will show up, they have a few spotters on the beach that radio in when one shows up. But that can be at any time during the night. To cut the long story short, we were sitting there from about 9pm until 2am in the morning until a turtle decided to show up and lay some eggs. In a few buses we rushed to the right beach access and then marched in double file (like kindergarten) to the turtle. Apparently these (5-feet-long) beast are very sensitive to their surroundings - so you aren't allowed to take any pictures - with flash or without - but they don't really seem to mind 30 people standing behind them, looking up their butt, watching them dig a hole.

I have to admit - it was a fascinating event. I was probably most surprised by the precision with which the turtle could dig a deep hole in the sand. I'd want to hire one of them for my next sandcastle project. Once the hole is big enough the turtle pops about 30-40 eggs in there and closes the hole again. The hole thing doesn't take more than an hour. While I appreciate the effort the volunteers are doing in helping preserve the turtles, we couldn't help but mocking those that tried to help the turtle dig the hole. The turtle's been doing that for 1000s of years. I thought she'd do just fine without a guy with a flashlight behind them, moving away the loose sand.

The second spectacular encounter happened while diving offshore at the Catalinas. Diving here is definitely different than at the Great Barrier Reef. It turns out the whole thing out there is a little bit more dangerous, because there is a strong surge that pulls and pushes divers around quite a bit. I got caught in one of those surges once and pulled right from 40ft all the way up to the surface in front of the rocks. Not funny, but an adventure nonetheless. Also the visibility is significantly less - around 15ft is all there is to be had at most times.

What makes the diving here an exciting experience nevertheless is the chance of seeing big marine life quite often - and that's what happened to us on our second dive. A giant Manta Ray made his rounds directly above us. Looking up towards the surface, he was nothing but a giantsilhouettee the first time, slowly and majestic gliding through the water. When he passed the second time I had ascended a bit, so I was at about the same depth as he was - and it was simply amazing. He must have had a wingspan of at least 8ft, with the tip of his "wing" passing me by at arms reach. Had I extended my arms I could have touched him. But he was a bit too big, I didn't think it would have been a good idea...

4am tomorrow I'll make my way to the airport. The era of studying Spanish is over, now I have to start using it a lot more. I am amazed though, how much easier a lot of the conversations and readings have been since. A few months here and I should be in business of speaking Spanish....

Other things...

As good americans we have celebrated the superbowl where of course Seattle kicked some butt!

Tamarindo is entirely too touristy.

I need a bigger beach towel.

Costa Ricans don't believe in addresses. Instead they believe in directions from - sometimes obsolete - landmarks...

No one of consequence...

2006-02-06T20:02:00.000Z

Costa Rica isn’t for the faint at heart. Of course – if you are planning to stay in one of the finer resorts and hotels that constantly spray their rooms and gardens with pesticides and insecticides there probably isn’t much to be worried about other than the occasional sea snake washed up at the beach – but for those of you that prefer a heartier accommodation, you’d better be willing to share your place with some new friends.

Supposedly C.R. has the largest number of animals per square mile and the widest selection of creatures in the world – I can’t speak much for the rain forest section here, but I imagine it being even better than the dry forest/pacific area I’ve encountered here…

I think pretty much all creatures can be divided up into the – rather personal - categories of “cute”, “don’t care much” and “someone get this out of here NOW” – and depending on what the population of your category three is, you’ll have a better or worse time down here.

Iguanas are a “normal” part of live in Playa Flamingo. They eat left-over melon in the school yard, climb around trees, or hang out lazily with their buddies watching the trash fires that can be found everywhere. The Ticos seem to have a “live and let live” attitude towards them – they hang out in the front and back yards, at pools and fountains, aren’t eaten, hunted, or disturbed – and in turn the Iguanas…. do what it is that Iguanas do. Other than them running across your roof (they are pretty fast for having such short legs) in the middle of the night, I haven’t heard of anyone who had to share their bunk bed with one.

Another creature – that luckily rarely finds it way into the rooms – is the grasshopper. No, not what you think. Not the semi-cute little hoppers that make that nice sound during those summer nights that we all so fondly remember. We are talking about grasshoppers that easily reach 10 inches (25 cm) – the NFL linebackers of grasshoppers. It takes quite some effort and conviction to get one of those out of your room again.

Inside appears to be more reserved for the smaller creatures that can – and will – slip through the numerous cracks and holes of Tico architecture, attracted by light or in the hope of some food. Without doubt Mosquitoes are the most common visitors – and the prospect of getting Malaria or Dengue Fever from a bite makes the use of repellant a wise idea.

I am reasonably sure that the countless ants get into the rooms the same way –all the different sizes seem to live in harmony with each other, and are only united in their fight against humans. Some of them even go way out of their way only to bite you. Maybe it’s a game or another ant triple-dog-dared them, but I haven’t seen one come out alive from that yet.

The architecture usually also provides large entryways for other creatures – for example lizards (or geckos?). Someone said they eat the ants and mosquitoes, so they are OK in my book. These little fellows (up to the size of your hand) are also terribly quick, but other than the iguanas have little suction cups at their feet, which allows them to walk equally quick on level surface as they do on walls and even ceilings. What’s particular impressive is their ability to run upside down on a wall and then jump, turn around mid air, land on their feet, and continue running on the floor. The one in Ken’s room also acts as wake up call – exactly 5 minutes before his alarm clock goes off, his lizard shows up and “barks” at the alarm clock. Every day.

Scorpions can be found less often in the rooms, but one is always best advised to shake out pieces of clothing and shoes before putting them on. Our student advisor found a scorpion in his sneakers before going on a run last week.

I am not even going to talk a lot about the cockroaches and other bugs that seem to live their lives hidden in corners and below surfaces, only to pop their heads up behind the pillow during the State of the Union or another riveting episode of “The Simpsons” in Spanish. They are more like roommates than anything else. If only they would do the dishes.

And last but by no means least, another common occurrence are Spiders – and they come in all sorts and shapes here. While my room is only frequented by a rather small spider – not more than 6-7cm (about 3 inches) - that seems to have taken a particular liking to my first aid kit, a fellow class mate of mine had to give up his room to a full-grown, hairy Tarantula a few nights ago.

From the classifieds:

The image gallery for Costa Rica is here. There aren't a whole lot of pictures from here on yet - mostly because I haven't seen the abundant wildlife yet that I'll hopefully encounter in Monteverde.

I went snorkeling at the Isla Tortuge last weekend - and the water clarity there is leagues better than up here. Tons of fish, eels, etc. in all colors. If it wasn't for the tiny jelly fish that would just casually sting me while diving, it would have been a perfect experience. Planning to go scuba diving this Wednesday, hope I don't kill myself.

"Las Naciones" in Buenos Aires will be my new home for 5 weeks starting in late February. If I can trust the description I got from it, it's right downtown on the Av. Corrientes. We'll see.

Marina is planning to disappoint me sorely.

They seem to know Cindy here as well:

I want my MTV.... No, Internet would suffice

2006-01-31T22:00:00.000Z

What makes a place "a far corner of the world"? Is it a geographical location, the remoteness of a place? Is it the difficulty one has to endure to reach it? Or maybe the unavailability of tourist maps, pina coladas, and other amenities?

I think today it's none of it. It's the ease of access to the Internet.

There are only 3 places here in Playa Flamingo that offer any form of Intenet Access: 2 computers in the school (which are prebooked for weeks in advance), 1 computer in the "Spreader Bar" (which is always occupied by one of the half-drunken diving instructors; and yes, the sexual innuendo of the name is intended and supported by the pictures and sculptures of several scantly clad women in the bar), and 5 computers in the local "Internet Cafe" (which operates at "Hora Tica", which essentially translates into "We open and close when we feel like it"). On top of that, all of the access points here in town are dial-up - so if the local phone lines are down again or more than one information-hungry traveller tries to check email, the Internet is either painfully slow or simply unavailable.

By and large one could consider this as an advantage - part of the tranquility and charm of a place at the Pacific Ocean - but in reality I haven't felt that disconnected from the rest of the world in Tierra del Fuego, Ayers Rock, or even Southeast Asia. Sometimes it takes a week before I can check any mail at all - if a nuclear war would break out (Hasn't happened yet, has it?) I wouldn't know it for days. On a less dramatic scale: I have the hardest time making any arrangements for the continuation of my trip, staying in contact with fellow travellers, friends, and family. These days the Internet is my only means of communication with the people I know, the places I was at and will go to - the guest houses, the apart hotels, the hostels. Not having any access really constitutes a "far corner of the world".

From the classifieds:

Another week and a half here in Flamingo before my course is over. It won't put me anywhere near fluent, but I think if I add another two weeks of group classes in Buenos Aires, I should at least be able to learn all the different times and modi. Today I learned the imperative - no modus is more useful for insults.

Apparently the wind - which is the only thing that provides somewhat of a relief from the heat here - stops blowing in mid-February. From there on it'll be unbearable hot, so it's a good thing I plan on heading towards Monteverde and Volcano Arenal.

Best of luck to PaulCole in his new endeavors.

CatMorr loves me no more.

Being in debt is the new rich.

Quick shout out to Bean mom, Frank, And Kermit!

Life is what happens while you make other plans.

2006-01-25T17:36:00.000Z

I just started this voyage a few weeks ago with no idea what it would turn into. The end was always hazy – both in terms of destination and date – and so were destinations, schedule, and objective. Part of the fun and purpose of this trip was to find out what to do next, where to go, which step to take next. Finding myself, my purpose (it’s that little thing that lights fire under your ass).

Some of this became very clear when I checked my email today. I will be ending this voyage before August and I will return to Europe – if not back to Germany, then at least close to it. And at least for a few years – after all I have the attention span of a hamster, so I can’t really be expected to make any decisions for years to come, can I? What will I do? I have not the slightest idea, maybe work for a non-profit, a charitable organization, or teach/train people. But the most important thing that I’ll do is spend more time with my family.

I love you, little sister, and can’t wait to see you again.

Other than this (cryptic) realization (send me an email if you want to know more), what else is new?

Today I have come to discover that I have had more beer to drink here since I arrived than drinking water. One could easily dismiss this and explain it with the poor water quality in Central and South American countries, but really – it’s got nothing to do with that. Quite the contrary actually, the water quality here is fine (although the water is not quite as pristine as in parts of Patagonia), it’s just that sitting in the constant heat and drinking a cold beer is tremendously enjoyable. And that’s pretty much all that you can do in the heat – it’s too hot for any strenuous activities, and the waves at the local bay aren’t anywhere near big enough for body surfing or other water activities (and snorkeling is largely out due to the high content of floating sand in the water). So what do we do after coming back from “school”? Sit in the hotel bar and study regular and irregular verbs, vocabulary and expressions – and drink beer. Years of reading didn’t do the trick, but after two weeks here I can finally understand why the characters in Hemingway’s book seem to have nothing else to do but drink, swim, and eat. I almost feel like I could be part of “Islands in the Storm”.

From the classifieds:

Private classes are definitely the way to go if you want to learn Spanish. They are much more strenuous and require undivided attention for a whole afternoon, but I leave them realizing that they also required me to speak for 4 hours straight. And with help of good ol’ flash cards I am starting to remember my verbs as well.

Adding fins to my snorkeling gear didn’t help – the visibility is still close to zero, even when swimming out 100m. I might have to pay for a trip on a dive boat after all.

I am a bit scared of the Spanish in Argentina. Yesterday morning I tried to watch the “Motorcycle Diaries” in Spanish, and I had a hard time even trying to figure out where one word ends and the next starts, understanding anything was next to impossible. I am considering taking another week or two of conversation classes in BsAs.

Nate wised up and moved his trip to Argentina up by a month, so we should be able to get some great weather throughout Patagonia and parts of Tierra del Fuego when we head down there in late March. I am still hoping to make this trip with a motorcycle and follow parts of Che Guevara’s route and the book “Chasing Che”, but I’ll have to see about this when I am in BsAs. What’s a good bike to take? Anyone?

I am no kid anymore...

2006-01-23T15:43:00.000Z

The B&B that the school put us into is located just a block off the beach, situated between the towns of Playa Flamingo to the South and Portrero to the North. There is a tiny super market (don’t buy any meat products here, there is a power failure pretty much every other day) across the street, but any other shopping, surfing the Internet, eating, etc. requires a 4km hike south or a 2 km hike north. The walk along the beach into Playa Flamingo is nice, but a 45 minute walk gets old really fast if the temperatures are way over 30 degrees Celsius and there is no shade to be found anywhere.

Other means of transportation were necessary. While there is a school bus that shuttles students every morning and afternoon between their residence and the school, there isn’t any other public transportation to speak of for a quick shopping run or dinner in the evening. Renting a car is prohibitively expensive, so a few of us resorted to a vehicle that none of us had used in years: We rented bicycles.

Growing up I have ridden my bicycle all over the place, so I figured it’d be easy to pick it up again despite not having ridden a bike for more than 6 years – after all they say it’s “like riding a bicycle”. And it’s true. Partially.

The actual act of riding really isn’t a problem whatsoever. I didn’t fall over, lose my balance, or crash into the nearest tree. What are a problem, however, are sore muscles. Not in my legs, or shoulders, or arms. I don’t know whether it’s really the fact that I am now 31, or maybe I or my saddle were a lot better cushioned when I was younger, but I don’t recall ever sitting down on my bike and thinking “My butt hurts.” I am sure both the simple bike (picture to follow) as well as the Costa Rican roads (more pictures to follow) are at least partially to blame, but at the end of the day you just take a sore butt a lot better as a kid – especially after spending the last four and a half years sitting in a comfortable office chair.

I already dread the ride back from school today. I only take comfort in the fact that our entire bicycle gang feels the same way. It’s the price to pay for mobility.

In the classifieds:

My Spanish is coming along splendidly; I watched a movie with Mel Gibson and Goldie Hawn today and understood at least 5 words (Anyone know which movie that was?).

There is an appalling amount of sand in the water here, which reduces the visibility to only a few feet. Not a whole lot of fun diving here. I’ll be going out farther soon to see if it’s better.

Rum is really cheap here, about the same price as Coca Cola.

Canopy tour next week. I am hoping for some cool pictures of flora and fauna.

The word of the day is:

2006-01-20T20:44:00.000Z

"Hilo dental"

Dental floss. Or the equivalent of what Americans call "butt floss" - it is simply amazing how many slang terms translate perfectly into one language, while they are utterly unimaginable in another language (Hinternzahnseide?).

I've completed my first week of Spanish here and it was just enough to realize how much I don't know - most of the time it's simply vocabulary that is missing. That and the desire to construct more complex sentences than necessary. Today I learned the entire vocabulary for the women's wardrobe - from maternity dress (el vestido maternal) over panties (los calzones - you don't eat calzones in C.R.) to the bra (el sosten) and of course the backside of a tanga - the hilo dental. I'll try my best to put that vocabulary to good use over the next weeks, I've already found uses of the verb "to turn on" that my teacher apparently wasn't expecting...

All in all there are about 60 students here in Playa Flamingo learning Spanish - some of them for similar reasons like me, others preparing for work in a Spanish speaking country, and yet others are still in school and earn some college credits here (those of course are the most studious people around, like college kids are).

The people here in Costa Rica are very friendly and helpful - up to the point where it seems to be "off" for us: I had just finished a drink and wanted to throw the empty can into a trash can. The can was packed full, so I decided to just carry the can until I would hit the next trash can. A passing bus driver saw me and stopped the bus, rolled down the window and pointed at the trash in my hand. Upon seeing the confused look in my face he dug up a trash bag from the floor of the bus and pointed again at the can and then the trash bag. I handed him the can, he put it in the trash and drove off. No word was exchanged. Now one might believe that maybe they are just very enviromentally conscious here - believe me, the ditches on the side of the road and the constantly burning trash fires in every front yard speak a different story. There also isn't any refund on cans or aluminum, so that can't be it either. Did he really just want to lift the burden of carrying an empty can from trash can A to trash can B from me? I'll never know.

This weekend I'll head to the "big" city of Brasilito. It has got 2 supermarkets and an internet place with DSL, maybe I'll be finally able to upload some pictures then.

Jessica Alba is not too bright...

2006-01-19T19:28:00.000Z

I´ve just concluded my 4th day in the language school here and have decided to write a few lines before I´ll start the long walk on the beach back to my ¨"dorm room".

The school here is literally 20 meters (about 20 yards for you Americans) from the beach, located just outside the city of Playa Flamingo - if you want to call it a city.

It really only consists of a few resorts and dive shops, a single super market, a pharmacy that carries only the medications and supplies for tourists, and a few restaurants with menus aimed at the American customer. And 5 real estate offices - an industry that seems to be booming here. Interestingly all prices - from the menus in restaurants to the displays in real estate offices - are in US dollars, and are only converted to Colones on the final bill. Even the ATM offers a choice between colones and US dollars when you withdraw money.

Every day I have 4 hours of Spanish, from 8am to noon. I was supposed to have private lessons, but since they seem to be running above capacity at the moment, I decided to join an intermediate group for the first week and am now learning together with 2 ladies. Since none of us speaks much Spanish, it´s often quite entertaining what we cook up when trying to tell our stories in Spanish.

Unfortunately school at 8am means getting up at 6:30 just to catch the bus (or ride the bike) to school in time. The majority of the students are staying in a small Bed&Breakfast about 3km outside Playa Flamingo right at the beach. If you weren´t lucky enough to show up here with a spouse or friend, you get a roommate for the duration of your stay - in my case Ken, a lighting operator for the movie and film industy in his mid-40s who fled Vancouver for a month. He´s been working in the industry for a few decades now, and just finished shooting X-men 3 before he got down here. Since I am a movie nut as well we´ve had countless of conversations about movies already - after all he worked on movies ranging from ¨"The 13th Warrior" to "Best in Show" and other gems like¨"Dark Angel". He has robbed me of many illusions about actors and actresses and enlightened me on others. Jessica Alba - albeit cute - is apparently not too bright, Neve Campbell is as much of a sweet heart as she comes across in movies, and Christopher Guest really makes his movies up as he goes along.

Pictures as soon as I find an internet connection that isn´t on dial-up and can accomodate the upload. Not that easy here.

All pictures will be stored on my site at http://markpet.smugmug.com

There is nothing I am passionate about...

2006-01-17T20:25:00.000Z

... at 3:45 in the morning. That's the time I had to get up in order to catch my flight from Austin to Liberia, Costa Rica last Friday. Would somebody have offered me to fly on a later day, to postpone my trip for a week, or possibly to call the whole thing off and refund the money - I might have done it. It just seems that there is nothing out there that is worth getting up for at 3:45am.

And the flight to Atlanta and on to Liberia confirmed that. The food on a flight isn't much to speak of anymore (snack, anyone? choose between a small bag of pretzels, some cheese crackers, and a chocolate chip cookie) and now they have even eliminated the free alcoholic drinks on international flights. I mean - wasn't that the only thing that made those long transatlantic flights bearable? Taking the edge off with a triple gin tonic?

The liberia airport isn't much to speak of either, but I am a fan of airports that have no doors and windows. Not only does it show that the fear of terrorism isn't as prevalent in the rest of the world, more importantly it also indicates that the weather is always nice. And it is.

There are only two seasons in Costa Rica - Summer and winter. And for my friends up north: The winter here isn't in any way comparable to the slushy streets of seattle or the nippy temperatures outide building 36. No, the winter here (which lasts from October to November) simply means it rains - and for the following 10 months of summer it doesn't. Ever. They only have roofs on the buildings here to provide some shade in the summer. And to keep the countless lizards, ants, and 3-inch spiders from falling on your head.

I just finished my 2nd day of Spanish course in the language academy here (seen to the right) - more about that and the fabulous accomodation just a block from the beach next time.

Now get back to work :)

P.S.: No complaints about typos. There is no spell checking for English here....

Unemployed, in Greenland!

2006-01-10T15:29:00.000Z

I've made the first 3000 miles southward: Austin, TX. It's not quite Central or South America just yet, but it's a first step on a journey that'll keep me on my feet for the next 6 months. 5 days here before I'll continue on to Costa Rica for 5 weeks to brush up my Spanish, and then on to Buenos Aires, Patagonia, Tierra del Fuego,... for the next 5 months.

It's Tuesday now and for the second day I have been unemployed. Right now it still feels like I am just on a vacation to visit my friends Mat and Heather - and it seems that there is work lurking just around the corner on an upcoming Monday... but I am sure that feeling will subside soon and I'll give in to the acceptance of my new life.... as a bum.

As a matter of fact right now I am an unemployed, homeless pedestrian that is about to become an illegal alien. Now doesn't that feel nice? It's the american dream!

The next days are going to be fun! How does one pack for a six-months trip that takes one to the beach, the lush equatorial rain forest, modern city life, remote desert, rugged costal regions, and moutains and highlands - if one only is to bring a single backpack?

The answer to this is easy and can be found at every airport from Seattle to Miami: sneakers and a sweat suit. I shall try my best.