tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46961043490932400222011-10-23T21:40:47.268-07:00Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.comBlogger1581100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-12043596314031117782010-09-02T01:39:00.001-07:002010-09-02T01:46:06.807-07:00

Sometime over the last week I lost my diary. No biggie.Today I discovered I lost my second credit card (my Cashpassport card - previously I complained that it is an expensive alternative to travellers checks, but since they Western Unioned all my money to me without charge, I think they are great).Tonight I got my purse stolen in a Barranco salsa club. I'm having trouble keeping my spirits up now

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-5526994186474760942010-08-31T12:05:00.000-07:002010-08-31T12:27:57.841-07:00

So I am out of the jungle. I am covered in mosquito bites and have a huge scratch on my leg but otherwise no worse for wear. The cutest thing in the world is a baby sloth. A much better pet than a cat. In fact, I met the sloth just after being rejected by a loner cat. It is the size of a teddy bear with a shapeless torso, a long neck topped by the placid smiley face of a turtle and four long

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-37604159896265642192010-08-26T18:12:00.000-07:002010-08-26T18:21:56.200-07:00

Tomorrow I go to the jungle, on a four-day Amazon trek, just me and a 29-year-old guide.Yes, I am already worried. The guy who sold me the trip asked to be let off another trek he was supposed to do so he could go with me instead. When I came back into the agency to let him know which hostel I was staying at he was leaving and asked me if I had had lunch. I didn´t have lunch with him, but I did

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-73160066461273511032010-08-25T09:34:00.000-07:002010-08-25T09:56:13.017-07:00

Tomorrow I am off to Iquitos to find myself a jungle tour. I didn´t get to Laeticia, the Amazon outpost in Colombia, so I will go to the jungle here in Peru.G was not able to pick me up from the airport after all, though I did not get the email before I left Bogota. I waited in the airport for 2 hours for him before I went to check the internet, but this was okay because I met a lovely Australian

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-57242353338076787432010-08-22T15:00:00.001-07:002010-08-22T15:07:50.150-07:00

I´ve been writing more in my notebook, but thought I´d just take a few minutes to blog. I leave Bogota in a few hours to go to Peru. G, who I met last year in Lima is picking me up from the airport and I am excited to see him again - and to be met at an airport!The last few days in Colombia have been nice. I stayed for two nights in the city of Tunja, which has a city centre dating to the 1500s.

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-48719009995435893512010-08-17T15:29:00.000-07:002010-08-17T15:54:25.748-07:00

So, I left myself on the bus to Palomino. I had called N to let him know I was coming back and he said he´d meet me at the bus station. I seem to do a lot of waiting in Palomino, but at least N did come and get me.I stayed that night with N and D. We sat around in N and D´s gazebo and I chatted, mostly with D, who spoke slow Spanish to me that I could mostly understand. I slept in a tent in their

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-24285467152990345542010-08-14T15:10:00.001-07:002010-08-17T15:38:06.020-07:00

I arrived back in Barranquilla last night and had bug larvae squeezed out of my legs and ass. I hadn´t finished telling G and M the story of my stolen phone when M sent me off to the shower after a gaze at my bitten up legs so she could heal them. I get out of the shower and she tells me that what I thought were infected mosquito bites were actually the swellings where an insect had injected

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-49456813146392884642010-08-12T19:33:00.000-07:002010-08-12T19:57:26.347-07:00

Such adventures this past week, but not much access to the internet. I can't possibly write everything down in the limited time I have so I'll give a general sweep of impression.I walked to Pueblito in Parque Tayrona with a beautiful Venezuelan malaria researcher and her rasta boyfriend. Pueblito is this grassy oasis of round rock bases left over from pre-Colombian times. It comes after a long,

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-53977841175413226422010-08-03T18:10:00.000-07:002010-08-03T18:30:27.997-07:00

I have finally left Barranquilla. This is what happens with couchsurfing. I intend to stay only a few days but I end up staying much longer, partly because I really enjoy my hosts, partly because in the face of their kindness my will gets subsumed by theirs. I don´t think Colombians have the same sense of time as we do in the West. They aren´t always on the go, go, go, and from what I can tell

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-9829399599719817142010-07-30T15:42:00.000-07:002010-07-30T16:09:58.253-07:00

I write to you from Barranquilla. This is an industrial/residential town, with many neighbourhoods full of one-story houses. I am back to couchsurfing, which has been lovely. I haven´t been on the go, go, go, but have been hanging out talking to G and M. M does not speak English, but we have managed to have some pretty serious girl talk with my limited Spanish and her even more limited English. I

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-76967443886977728032010-07-24T17:47:00.000-07:002010-07-24T18:02:32.329-07:00

My trip has definitely gotten better since leaving big cities. I am also hostelling for a bit, which means I meet people who speak English to hang out with.On Thursday and Friday I was in the quaint city of Salento. It is a small town of very colourful restaurants and artesan shops. On Thursday I walked the religous steps up a mountain - with messages about Jesus - and then found a trail. I met a

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-21881462143936850842010-07-19T14:34:00.000-07:002010-07-24T17:47:33.303-07:00

Finally, I have gotten back into my gmail account (well, it isn't working at the moment on Z's computer, but thanks to Michelle I was able to reset my password because she got me back into my lipmag account, which was the address my password reset was sent to). So, thank you, Michelle! This makes me feel so much better, having my gmail, my blog, my photos, documents, contacts(!!) back.Hopefully

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-60447562887907561322010-07-19T14:32:00.000-07:002010-07-19T14:34:29.190-07:00

So, I´ve lost access to my Blogger blog. I resume journaling here.Bogota is a nice city. I cannot find a better word than ´nice´. It isn´t beautiful (though there are beautiful things here), it isn´t grand (though there are grand things here). It is neither friendly or unfriendly. It isn´t full of garbage and graffiti, there are many roads of second-world-looking warehouses and shops, there

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-60618987824826661532010-07-10T20:31:00.000-07:002010-07-11T09:33:44.119-07:00

Today I lost my wallet, somewhere between Buenos Aires and Lima. I only lost some Argentinian pesos, but I've also lost yet another debit card. Luckily I have the Travelex card, but it is expensive to use, almost $5 everytime I take out money on it. And if I lose that, well, then...I am in Bogota at a hostel. It is difficult to organise couchsurfing at the last minute when you have no mobile

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-39243261521944793772010-07-08T10:12:00.000-07:002010-07-08T10:20:56.315-07:00

I am here in Buenos Aires again. It is cold but sunny, an improvement on both Melbourne and Sydney. Sydney was so cold, UniNSW conference rooms so cold, that I came down with a cold. So, I am not in the best spirits for travelling.I was not able to find a host in Buenos Aires, so I am in a hostel. It is a particularly nice hostel, though, all sort of tango arty, with high ceilings, painted walls,

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-77235039712315765682010-03-30T18:38:00.000-07:002010-05-14T21:51:58.762-07:00

Back to old patterns: I got picked up by a Pakistani. Not quite like the Bangladeshis in my younger days travelling in foreign cities, but close enough. Actually, the guy was 30, which is considerably younger than the types who used to pick me up. He talked to me at the beach today and then tried to hold me in the water. So that's it - from now on I turn into a bitch and walk off after saying

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-62701204776068363082010-03-18T05:11:00.000-07:002010-05-05T03:04:51.682-07:00

I was going to resume no-coffee travelling but the cafe con leche at the tapas bar last night was so good that I refuse to say no. So I am in a bakery, with a chocolate-filled croissant stick and a cafe con leche. Also I buy a loaf of pan gallec. I sit at the first table from the door, not too far from Plaza Espana.Yesterday I arrived safely at R's place, thanks to a friendly airport worker who

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-12177059767786023052010-03-17T07:21:00.000-07:002010-05-05T03:21:30.062-07:00

Oh, being back in the travelling mode in which I get woken up by the morning sounds of other people and get out of bed without regret, without difficulty!Last night I had to stop writing and jot down notes because I was so tired (so some of this is a little bit of a repeat as I fill in details). I didn't describe the feeling of being on a motor scooter: a little bit scary because my hands were

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-30010631727835697402010-02-24T05:38:00.000-08:002010-05-05T03:03:52.719-07:00

It is a beautiful warm night in late-summer Barcelona and the Festa Major de Gracia is on. I don't think I could have had a more Barcelona experience than I have had this first night in this cheery city. 1. I rode into town on the back of a motor scooter.2. I saw a parade. It had drummers and sparkler-like fireworks spewing with loud bangs from huge twirling contraptions. It was like a movie

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-68159789545696233512010-02-04T15:06:00.000-08:002010-05-05T03:09:28.234-07:00

I am on the road again! It is very welcome. I had a day of sleeping in, laundry and wrestling with Auunt K's computer and scanner. But the sun came out in the afternoon; I had my last piece of NY pizza. Yesterday, before heading to Bronxville on Metro North, I bought an arepa con queso from a Columbian cafe in Woodside and chatted a little bit of Spanish to the waitress. The arepa was delicious

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-74321475599716092342010-01-23T22:34:00.000-08:002010-05-05T03:16:12.339-07:00

It is the end of my last night in New York, America. I had a great time - S joined Aunt K, her husband K and I for dinner and then S and I went for a sing at Marie’s Crisis piano bar.What I still love about New York: the amount of people on the train to Queens at 2am. At 1.30am French Roast cafe was still serving food and coffee to a good amount of people. Yesterday a man gave me his Metrocard

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-28541874546589551672010-01-23T22:27:00.000-08:002010-01-23T22:34:27.676-08:00

It is blissful to be back with a good, beautiful friend in a big city with lovely warm evenings. Being with S gives me energy.Thanks to my parents I had enough money to enjoy a pricey dinner and $30 bottle of wine in SoHo with S - also due to my stinginess in South America and the excellent exchange rate between the American and Aussie dollar.S and I put our names into the lottery for Hair on

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-10358203378367002502010-01-06T04:42:00.000-08:002010-01-06T05:32:36.779-08:00

My mom is indirect. She doesn't say, 'When are you planning on having dinner ready?', but 'We're starving.' Or she'll say, 'I'm hoping Rachel doesn't want to do anything for the next few days because I'm exhausted'. My first response, the one that mostly stays in my head, is hostile: 'Well, eat, then.' Or, 'I didn't ask you to entertain me'. This must be how I developed my well-honed sense of

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-6718992065234609432010-01-04T15:39:00.000-08:002010-01-04T15:51:20.068-08:00

I am writing in the bed that I will be sharing with my mother and sister in our little room at the Marriott. Dad is in a cot bed at our side. I guess I came home to be near my family... I use the opportunity to bond with N.I knew that driving here and finding the hotel was going to involve my Dad stressing and my mom exacerbating his stress by trying to help. It was sweet, though, how as soon as

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-55029366474537570882010-01-02T03:53:00.000-08:002010-01-02T05:56:38.181-08:00

It is still light and warm here in upstate New York. I've awoken from a nap. Today Dad and I went for a picnic and a game of miniature golf. Dad made falafels and yoghurt dip this morning; Mom made her mother's Russian eggplant dip; I chopped up some tomato. We ate our middle-eastern lunch at Lock 9-C, where we watched a tall yacht and its four sailors rise up on the water and pass through the

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-13800638798631422222009-12-29T04:22:00.000-08:002009-12-29T04:39:10.520-08:00

I wanted this trip to clarify things and send me through some sort of fire and back out again burnished more beautifully, but this was not exactly what I had in mind. My work and revelations were supposed to revolve around issues of competence, independence. Instead I feel no more competent and no more independent, but my trials have revolved instead around men. Today I received two very

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-20640459142887986572009-12-23T05:40:00.000-08:002010-01-02T03:53:18.456-08:00

I have just eaten too much dinner. It was so good and I wasn't feeling full, until now. D made whole wheat pasta with tomato, artichoke and black olives, while I breaded, herbed and fried eggplant slices. D's family is lovely. L is the type of man Steinbeck writes about: sweet-natured, smart, competent, patient and great with children. B, the little one, is, like all one-year-olds,

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-76239492506030648682009-12-22T04:24:00.000-08:002009-12-22T04:39:02.411-08:00

The sun came back out today. D and I went to State Street to listen to a folk duo, and we ate lunch at a Nepalese/Indian/Tibetan restaurant. It wasn’t much like New York or Australian Nepalese/Tibetan food but was absolutely delicious. I had grilled marinated tofu with vegies, and rice with spinach. It sounds basic but the sauces were unidentifiably lovely. D's sister C and her boyfriend joined

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-65233603240698936232009-12-22T04:18:00.000-08:002009-12-22T04:24:00.377-08:00

After playing a loud game of Operation (with electronic laughing, toilet flushing and nose blowing for current generations of kiddies), D asked her 5-year-old son if he wanted a bath or shower. He said to her, ‘A shower but she can’t watch me!’. I told him I had been planning on taking a bath WITH him.

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-76795613273705112372009-12-22T04:08:00.000-08:002009-12-22T04:18:21.036-08:00

I have left behind my family and am onwards to the little girl I grew up with in my formative years. It is a sort of 25-year reunion. I haven’t seen her since I was 8 years old. Pennsylvania’s forested roots are obvious. Flying over the state you see carpets of green trees ocassionally broken by patterns of houses and then farms. There is more forest than town, as if the forest was mostly

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-83042149330940690252009-12-17T15:55:00.000-08:002009-12-22T04:07:24.057-08:00

Today it poured with rain. Aunt G made me eggplant parmigiana and Uncle J absolutely creamed Dad at gin. Mom, Dad and I went to see Aunt L at the retirement home she lives in. We took her to Chipotle Mexican Grill (a chain) for lunch and to see Harry Potter and the Dark Prince. She wasn't too annoying, despite the reputation that precedes her, though by the end of the afternoon she had begun to

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-30931148658290424512009-11-25T15:40:00.000-08:002009-11-25T15:49:46.019-08:00

You really recognise where you come from when you go to a family reunion. 34 people were expected for yesterday's gathering in Elwood City, Pennsylvania. This gathering, which I assumed was one of the normal summer gatherings that we used to have at Aunt L's house, turns out to have been organised in my honour - because I am so rarely in the country. This induced some guilt, but also an emotional

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-39367565941132974062009-11-19T16:23:00.000-08:002009-11-22T01:49:21.101-08:00

Artfully Chocolate Kingsbury Confections is a large cafe cluttered with three-tier stands of chocolate and brightly-patterned artist-glazed round tables in addition to truffle and cafe bars. On one wall are mosaics for sale, depicting gay male romantic scenes – beach, shower, tulip field with rainbow. I am eating a warm dark-chocolate gooey cake with dark chocolate sauce in the middle. Sending

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-48434971447232997612009-11-19T16:04:00.000-08:002009-11-19T16:40:48.939-08:00

I am eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and looking out at the Department of Commerce and the Environmental Protection Agency. I have been through the First Ladies exhibition to see some of the inaugural gowns of the presidents’ wives. It was a disappointing exhibit because a)most of the gowns aren’t there and b)the exhibition is laid out in such a way that the information about the women

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-28272837779245891562009-11-19T16:02:00.000-08:002009-11-19T16:04:26.417-08:00

I have now seen Philadelphia (I suppose I must have been there with school when I was a child, but I don’t remember...). At least I've seen the historic district: the Liberty Bell, much smaller than I'd imagined, Independence Hall, Ben Franklin's printing press, the cemetery where he is buried, a cream-coloured Anglican church with a beatiful organ. We arrived into Chinatown, but there was no

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-88260631892339793442009-11-07T17:28:00.000-08:002009-11-07T17:30:54.120-08:00

I walked and walked today. Good thing too, as I had Nathan's cheese fries for lunch and Indian food for dinner. SW and I slept in, had complimentary breakfasts at the hotel, and then made our way to Coney island on the F train. SW wants to see dodgy New York and so far I have failed him. When I visited Coney Island in 2005 I found it a lower-class area: dirty, empty lots, black-sanded beach of

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-48839069520698206872009-10-31T23:16:00.000-07:002009-10-31T23:54:39.643-07:00

I really must finish recording the story of my last full day in Caracas. After leaving Louis the Ecuadorian on the heights of Avila, S and I drank beer, bought boutique chocolate and then head back into town to meet F. The three of us went to a very sophisticated hotel bar, decked out with hammocks and couches, big squares of creamy canvas sheets covering the ceiling, with low lighting and a

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-57020597884128390582009-10-27T16:46:00.000-07:002009-10-31T23:52:32.850-07:00

Still I am blessed on this trip. The rainy season, late, hadn't arrived yet in Caracas while I was there, and in New York City it had been raining, raining up until I arrived. Oh, it has rained some: when we were on the pier with SA, once when I was walking to get SW, but it didn't last long and the summer heat ensured I dried off quickly. Mostly my vacation has been full of sun and in New York

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-39894526414291202732009-10-24T01:22:00.000-07:002009-10-25T06:26:28.532-07:00

It is lonelier sitting alone in a NY diner than anywhere else. I feel...single...rather than on my own. I have ordered an ice-cream float: diet Coke with strawberry ice-cream. This is a silvery narrow diner with a neon-blue fish tank in the back and iridescent water-blue glass-tiled tables.It is time I write about my last Saturday in Caracas. S and I decided to take the cable car up El Avila, at

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-25947768157452818972009-10-14T19:31:00.001-07:002009-10-25T06:14:21.724-07:00

I have been walking all day and my feet are sore. This morning, Dad came to the city and met SW and I at the hotel. We went to see Grand Central Station. Dad hasn't seen it since its 1990s renovations, its bright new constellated blue ceiling and shining marble floors. We walked through a street fair on Lexington Avenue. SW bought sweet corn and Dad and SW bought Kashmiri woven rugs. There were

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-2446038957685379972009-10-14T00:28:00.000-07:002009-10-14T20:34:05.155-07:00

I have returned to SW's fancy hotel room with him. The room has one full wall of window that stretches around the corner of the room with a view of the East River. Nice room, but shit location. No subways on the far east side. SW, Dad and I tried to see a show together, but Hair wasn't in an accessible theatre, God of Carnage only had non-accessible seats available, Waiting for Godot wasn't

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-80693843744127884352009-10-13T06:06:00.000-07:002009-10-14T20:33:24.835-07:00

Dad arrived in the city this evening. We ate delicious Korean food. New York is still so cheap. Mom and I saw organic peaches for $2.45 per kilo. A bottle Dr Pepper was only $1.25, a hot pretzel $2.00, and a slice of cheese pizza is $2.50. At the Korean restaurant Dad and I were brought cold omelette slices with a selection of pickle. We ordered grilled dumplings - delicious - and I had a cold

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-76531486934594367832009-10-04T01:41:00.000-07:002009-10-14T20:32:28.172-07:00

Every time I am in New York I come to Veniero's in the hope that Eva, a lovely Polish woman who married and was divorced by my cousin, still works here, though I wouldn't wish anyone to have been waitressing for more than 10 years. But, of course, no Eva.I have spent the afternoon with W, which is always fun. We ate at Caliente Cab and I had a mixed plate with a vegie burrito and a bean tostada,

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-46108500542098216252009-10-04T01:30:00.000-07:002009-10-13T05:53:24.335-07:00

US security is stupid. Caracas airport was crowded. I waited in the wrong line for a long, long time because it was so crowded I couldn't tell where the line was going and there were no airline staff members directing people to the correct desks. I did ask a woman in the line which airline she thought the line was for, and she also believed it was for the American Airlines check-in. She must

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-60028445795462024152009-10-02T05:12:00.000-07:002009-10-02T07:10:26.090-07:00

We are beginning our descent into Miami. I have been trying to sleep as I had only around five hours of sleep last night and a few hours the night before that. I am on an older plane - public screens for the movie, a place on the armrests where ashtrays used to go. On early Friday morning in the Amazon, I woke MS up so I could crawl into his hammock. I had only slept a little because, again, I

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-72459034650424452592009-09-29T06:30:00.000-07:002009-10-02T05:26:08.155-07:00

My South American adventure is over. I had a great last day with S, who said she would miss me. Last night MS rang me on her mobile and chattered at me for 20 minutes or so. I think I understood about three quarters of what he said - I hate mobile phones. It was so nice to hear him speak, his cheery sentence structure and distinctive voice. I had already been missing it. He followed up with a

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-46005835439112882582009-09-29T06:05:00.000-07:002009-09-30T08:16:16.093-07:00

I am in Maracay. The bus stopped and I transferred to a new bus. Almost too late. I didn't really know what was going on, but the bus driver figured out I wasn't meant to be on the bus.The last blog trailed off because MS got me. After getting off the bus at the darkened rest stop, I peed and had a meander, peered at a black body of water and got bored. I got back on the bus. Soon I heard

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-67161337326722487872009-09-28T08:59:00.000-07:002009-09-30T08:05:27.944-07:00

I have just gotten settled on the bus to Caracas for my 12-hour ride. MS and I kissed goodbye many times. He still smiles at me. I talked of coming back, we talked of meeting in Italy, but I wonder what shall happen. Do we meet again or does our month stand alone as something out of a book someone else was writing? It is difficult to imagine emailing MS, but I look forward to reading his writing

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-23315535382543894672009-09-27T09:40:00.000-07:002009-09-29T06:59:53.905-07:00

Yesterday was a disappointing day. The point of this excursion is to walk up a tepui, a four-hour trek through the rainforest. However, there was no small boat waiting at a village to take us to the beginning of the trail down a narrow canal, so we couldn't go. We took the tin-roofed boat into the small channel, a beautiful ride where tree branches scraped the boat and it had to be steered

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-85569661912844410992009-09-24T09:19:00.000-07:002009-10-02T07:01:27.717-07:00

Yellow and white butterflies flirted with our bongo (the native name for our boat), keeping pace with us, and a bright orange narrow-winged butterfly almost came inside. It may not be orchid season but there were trees with bright purple flowers and occasionally I spotted a red bromeliad. The trees were reflected perfectly in the water and palms rose one or two metres above the canopy.Dinner this

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-42885083712989751962009-09-23T08:40:00.000-07:002009-10-02T05:24:29.262-07:00

I am sitting on a broken cane-weave chair overlooking the Siapa River, an island of trees directly in front of me, a cloudy sky going a washed-out watery light blue and tinging a black cloud orangey-pink above me.writing at sunsetAndreas, one of our two travelling mates, just brought me an enormous green wrinkly twisted seed pod filled with big yellow seeds embedded in a white moist fluff that

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-65626059069880227572009-09-22T07:54:00.000-07:002009-09-22T09:02:39.307-07:00

Six more days left in Venezuela. Tomorrow MS and I are off for an excursion up the Orinoco River to hike up a tepui. Today I spent an hour and half in a bank.I was craving avocado this morning so forewnt breafast at a nice Christian bakery, the first one in Venezuela that bore resemblance to any sort of cafe I am used to. It had round pasteboard tables and wooden chairs. I asked for coffee and as

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-2354684820558469432009-09-19T07:26:00.000-07:002009-09-19T21:10:14.969-07:00

MS beat me to the words as we settled into our posada room: it is raining and Sunday, what else is there to do? These were my very thoughts as we shared a meal of chicken, rice, a piece of yucca and a scoopful of coleslaw at a restaurant in Puerto Ayacucho.Puerto Ayacucho restaurantThis is the first really good downpour I've seen in a long time. Utterably suitable for the town that is the gateway

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-71432657298062718462009-09-17T07:39:00.000-07:002009-09-19T07:25:10.680-07:00

It is 32 degrees Celcius with 50% humidity.Today MS and I visited the warehouse where MS's dad keeps his machines and trucks, his office and the lot of land he will build his own warehouse and house on. Then we visited the people he bought the land from. They live on truly colourful property where they have built three small houses and raise plenteous chickens, roosters, dogs, ducks and turtles,

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-8817686509992172032009-09-17T07:34:00.000-07:002009-09-19T07:24:47.386-07:00

We are stopped in the town of El Tigre. There has been much 'Globovision enferma' graffitti. The town threw up a nice brown hotel with black-rimmed windows, modern but gracefully curved, with a light bulb inside and outside but no other sing of habitation, such as furniture or curtains.This town has a beautifully tended road median with car repair and other industrial style shops on my side of

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-38446068214821831782009-09-17T06:50:00.001-07:002009-09-17T07:32:29.249-07:00

I am sitting on an idling bus with purple curtains, listening to a salesman sell magnets and magnetic neclackes. He does go on. MS and I are on our way to Puerto Ordaz. We've just been to Boulevard De Los Empanadas. I was avoiding these deep fried things but, hey, when in Venezuela... My first empanada was stuffed with cheese, bean and platanos (fried plantains), my second was stuffed just with

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-55106261910924842352009-09-16T08:40:00.000-07:002009-09-16T09:36:58.548-07:00

I asked T to tell me why he likes Chavez. T said he had a lot of years on the young cynics like MS and knows what the previous governments were like. He's lived in Venezuela since 1973, with a break when he opposed the government and went back to The Netherlands. He returned in the early '90s, for Chavez. He is a socialist and wants to see a more equal society. He believes that a single leader is

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-58198050207397499052009-09-15T08:56:00.000-07:002009-09-17T07:32:59.599-07:00

Tomorrow MS and I go to Puerto Ordaz and then on to Puerto Ayacucho to see the Amazon. I am so glad he is coming with me. I didn't feel I could stay on Margarita any longer in order to stay with him when there is so much more of Venezuela to see, so he comes too. Though of course this is a new adventure for him as well.At night MS plays the The Wall Live in Berlin for me. But it isn't the same as

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-15929966511187494202009-09-11T20:14:00.000-07:002009-09-13T07:40:35.443-07:00

Yesterday I went with MS on his Cubagua tour. He takes people snorkelling around a shipwreck and to a mudbath on Cubagua island. The tour boat is docked a long way from the tourist pick-up point, so I enjoyed a whole day on a boat, though there were some problems with the boat on the way back and we didn't get back to land until quite late. This allowed us to dance to Spanish music while the sun

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-87317040345374645822009-09-11T19:46:00.000-07:002009-09-17T07:34:26.133-07:00

The dogs sniff me because I was playing with a stray black puppy while waiting for the bus across the street from the beach. It had floppy ears and kept biting my hand.Today was a great day. MS and I were supposed to get up at 6am to go to La Restinga National Park, but we didn't get up to the alarm. We emerged at 9am, had a breakfast of bread, humus (without tahini), tomato, crackers and dulce

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-28142105206945181612009-09-08T07:59:00.000-07:002009-09-17T07:33:47.081-07:00

I just woke up an hour ago, me of the mango-swollen eyes. MS, C, S and I went dancing last night. We left MS's at 1.o0am, and the club above the beach closed at 3am. We danced outside. MS is a much better dancer than me and I shall reiterate that it is hot, hot, hot. I much prefer South American club music to the stuff I try to dance to in Melbourne. This music is more Caribbean and there is a

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-36736619341261857342009-09-07T06:37:00.001-07:002009-09-08T07:58:53.409-07:00

I am sitting in the dining area of Kavak Tours, trying not to itch my eyes. I have said goodbye to the young couple, the boys, the mothers. They are off to the lagoons and Salto Sapo, the waterfall that Anthony did not take me to walk behind.We climbed in the rainforest to see Salto Angel. Often tourists can walk behind the fall but the water level was too high for us because of the night's rain.

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-51377409669120239762009-09-03T19:17:00.000-07:002009-09-07T06:54:32.652-07:00

We arrived at camp about a half an hour ago. I went immediately to shower in hopes of relieving my mango-swollen eyes. So far it is just my eyes that are affected. The camp is a tin-roofed, concrete platform with plastic tablecloth-covered tables and 19 hammocks with mosquito nets accompanied by wooden bench-tables set perpendicularly. The toilet and shower facilities are in a separate building.I

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-5978598426876479372009-09-03T07:28:00.000-07:002009-09-07T06:37:01.693-07:00

Anthony and I went for beers at the local restaurant, a big room with a bar, pool table and television, a kitchen bar and plastic tables and chairs. There were several boys playing pool and a soccer game on the television. I struggled to make conversation with Anthony, asking about small town life. When I asked where all the girls were (ther were only boys in the bar besides me) he said they were

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-35138719951003765132009-09-03T07:20:00.000-07:002009-09-07T05:59:10.238-07:00

Anthony told me at dinner there will be more trekkers arriving tomorrow. Relief! Dinner was oily, creamy and lovely: a fried omelette with no vegetables, delicious coleslaw, and potato rounds fried with garlic and parsley. Red jello for dessert. Anthony let me try a piece of his cassava with chipotle chile bread. This is the Caribes' native bread and it was very nice.MS has an interesting

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-18619447497315047002009-09-02T05:02:00.000-07:002009-09-03T19:55:28.757-07:00

I am the only person at this camp. I was looking forward to a personal tour of the Canaima Lagoon, but while a private tour has its advantages, such as discarding the rules (wearing life jackets and shoes) and taking as long to explore as you want, when your guide is a young man and you are a single, young female, this makes a private tour awkward.Anthony and I took a boat from the first lagoon,

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-828796294819941532009-08-31T15:43:00.000-07:002009-09-07T06:02:09.194-07:00

Oh my god, oh my god. I can't believe what I've just been able to do: fly over the Delta Orinoco and Guayana forest. It was amazing. The first flight from Margarita to Puerto Ordaz was mostly over flat plains separated into squares by dirt roads, but the second flight, well, let's just say I will feel okay if I don't see the Amazon.First the little 12-seater to Canaima flew over Delta Orinoco,

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-78069497391907879542009-08-29T21:05:00.000-07:002009-08-30T09:30:14.899-07:00

Here, coffee is espresso, though not particularly nice espresso. Must be the Italian influence. I was driven to the airport (Nicol included a taxi ride to the airport by a friend of hers in my Canaima package) by a lovely curly-haired young man with two daughters and two houses who hates Chavez. He says the Venezuelan bolivar is so low because of Chavez. Venezuelans can't afford to travel. Chavez

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-20973417962777343302009-08-29T20:52:00.002-07:002009-08-30T08:32:51.058-07:00

This morning I walked to T's place to get more money off of him and he dropped me off back at the tour office to make my final payment. Walking in Margarita is a hot and barren affair. The sun is relentless and the roads so grey. It is sometimes difficult to motivate myself to go somewhere, especially if it involves a long bus ride, but once I am on my way I am fine, the sun ultimately a pleasure

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-55557085259930938152009-08-29T20:40:00.001-07:002009-08-30T08:26:23.109-07:00

I have finally booked a tour to Canaima. I still have to get the rest of the money from T tomorrow, as I leave on Thursday for three days. Today I spent a couple of hours at an internet cafe, booked my trip, and went to La Asuncion, the historical capital of Margarita. There is a grand municipal building there, a brick-road plaza, bright-coloured houses and more greenery.Municipal Palace, La

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-48297322056408901242009-08-29T11:24:00.000-07:002009-08-30T08:08:04.024-07:00

The three Argentinian couchsurfers are still here after a barbeque. MS and I were at another barbeque, for the occasion of MS's boat's captain leaving to go overseas. I am writing because I am tired of listening to Spanish. Today I saw a goat. Grazing the garbagey suburb like the cows.MS's eyes are green, sometimes blue. I like to watch him eat because he seems to savour every bite. His friends

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-64252166296561305762009-08-29T11:00:00.000-07:002009-08-29T23:13:37.292-07:00

MS has a lovely family. The only raised voices I have heard in the house have been directed to a dog. His older nephew helps put groceries away and the younger one give me his cheek for a kiss when he says hello. The older boy is handsome, with sparkly eyes and quite ways, while the younger boy is a charmer. Young women in Venezuela seem to like their children. Children are well-behaved and I

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-40478932369872861882009-08-28T11:37:00.000-07:002009-08-29T11:06:42.871-07:00

I have bought a cheese-stuffed pastry, two bread rolls and something that looks like a chocolate square of sour gummy candy. I can't wait to see what it is like. Last night, after we arrived home from Coche and showered, MS and I emailed a bit at the internet cafe then went to a Mexican restaraunt in Las Robles that he had been keen to try. For starters we had corn kernels in a light sauce with

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-15219855277540192852009-08-28T05:11:00.000-07:002009-08-29T23:09:53.445-07:00

I am losing my days. I thought it was Thursday yesterday. I am on my own again today as MS is at work. I don't have a big day planned. I will call T, who is giving me bolivars in return for my Euros, to see when I can pick up the money and go to another tour agency around here. Maybe I will go back to Pampatar as well. We'll see.I think the coffee here tastes different because of the milk - which

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-43705636646583878892009-08-27T20:35:00.000-07:002009-08-28T05:11:40.484-07:00

I have just had the most awesome day. I can't believe it was mine. MS and I went to a resort on Coche Island, Coche Paradise. We paid $500 bolivars for all-you-can-eat-and-drink, a room, access to two pools (one looking out over the beach) and the beach chairs belonging to the resort. I have never been to a resort before as it is not really my kind of thing - but it was just the thing! In

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-48869706313895439022009-08-25T00:02:00.000-07:002009-08-27T20:35:40.117-07:00

I am eating yucca frita - fat yucca chips. I am in the mall to cash S's cheques but there isn't enough money in her account to cash all three. Now I do not have enough bolivars to pay for a trip to Canaima (I need $2800) and I have to decide what to do. Take a lot of money out with my Travelex card at the official crappy exchange rate? It is a huge loss. Or just wait another day or two to go on

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-29722111907632210892009-08-10T21:30:00.000-07:002009-08-27T09:47:48.094-07:00

When C called me this morning to see if I wanted to join her at the beach, I told her I was going to climb a mountain with MS. We didn't go mountain climbing like I had hoped. We stayed in bed. MS and I late-breakfasted on avocado, tomato and cheese sandwiches. It felt great to eat and I allowed myself coffee again. MS brought out the Spanish olive oil we bought at the supermarket last night and

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-31765266189944027192009-08-08T21:38:00.000-07:002009-08-10T21:30:39.000-07:00

I arrived at MS's house in the suburb of Los Robles on Friday evening, probably around 8.00. All I wanted was a shower, especially in the hopes of relieving my itchy eyes. It was a while before I got one.MS lives in a big white house with a large red-tiled courtyard in the back, dominated by a big tree that drops large red fruit and makes everything magenta. There are five dogs and three cats. We

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-1309521502350197442009-08-08T20:22:00.000-07:002009-08-09T12:20:40.061-07:00

I presume you remember my email in which I let you know that I did recover S's phone from the hotel room, so this morning was not a disaster.After a long, hot and ugly bus ride to the central neighbourhood of Porlamar, I am sitting behind a statue of Bolivar, listening to PSUV-sponsored (United Socialist Party of Venezuela) music. There are guards in green standing on the stage and now a woman is

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-51437529412152778792009-08-06T22:52:00.000-07:002009-08-06T22:58:38.575-07:00

I am at the ferry terminal. About six or seven people each with one eye covered in a white bandage, just walked in. How weird.I just watched an ad on the waiting room television that featured close-ups of a couple kissing, full-on tongue kissing, very close up. I've never seen an ad like that before.Yesterday morning I attempted to follow the Lonely Planet Venezuela's directions to the por puesto

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-72776396070626483142009-08-06T22:51:00.000-07:002009-08-06T22:52:08.723-07:00

Tonight I killed two little round cockroaches. One I drowned in the sink, the other I crushed on the wall with my diary. It left a lot of slime on my diary. I also squashed two tiny baby cockroaches.Some of you make fun of my discussion of pee, but doesn't everyone have this problem? I know I pee more than anyone else but everyone has to pee. What do you do when you find yourself in an

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-75142423021694915122009-08-06T22:49:00.000-07:002009-08-06T22:50:55.775-07:00

This bus has leg rests! My calves are supported and I can elevate my feet a bit. This bus is much nicer than anything Greyhound ever imagined - double-decker even.9.00am, Thursday May 28, Hotel Italia, CumanaThe driver kept the lights off in the bus, so no reading or writing.I arrived in Cumana, Venezuela's oldest city, at 5.30am, waited for a long while for a bus into town, then wandered around

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-87405816999180985482009-08-04T20:41:00.000-07:002009-08-06T22:47:49.822-07:00

I am starting a new notebook! And I forgot to bring a pen. This little pencil will only last so long since I can't sharpen it, only pick at it.At 10.45pm I will take a night bus to Cumana, which is near the beaches of Maracaibo and the beaches of Isle Margarita. I will meet MM (female), who has recommended me a cheap hostel, in Cumana. MS (male), who lives on Margarita, will host me (with his

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-31029886861959266242009-08-01T20:39:00.000-07:002009-08-04T20:47:39.553-07:00

I call Caracas the city of hanging string. There are many sculptures consisting of some form of (usually) metal strings hanging to the ground, usually in some sort of cube pattern, and creating shadow illusions by the way they are positioned.I felt completely replete after the beer and alone-time to write. When I got back to S's apartment, she was home and had brought with her another couchsurfer

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-34721480207759414122009-07-31T21:38:00.000-07:002010-02-04T15:18:17.864-08:00

Tonight S didn't come home and I am tired. I had a hard day and I want beer and conversation. (Now that I've finally found a bar no one wants to serve me. The other bars I've been to had table service. Guess I'll go back inside to the bar...)So I've come to the bar, ordered a beer, listened to men I don't understand until 'sit down' and a motion towards the chair made at least something clear,

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-60483731977967280962009-07-31T19:27:00.000-07:002009-07-31T19:29:05.175-07:00

I am sitting at a wood laminate table in a room with a rust-coloured floor in Caracas city library. It is a depressing library: very few books, all of which seem to be in the fields of math and sciences. There are 11 sets of five-shelved small bookcases on each floor with none of the shelves full. A few people are studying quietly on the different floors but the only cheer is the sun pouring

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-2938382755752086922009-07-27T20:46:00.000-07:002010-01-04T06:54:21.288-08:00

I suppose it is common to want to be the favourite. I have had this problem forever, from the time I was a little girl and my friends had a best friend who wasn't me. I felt again that pang of jealousy tonight as S showed me photos of past couchsurfers. She talked of on Asian girl who was unafraid to go anywhere on her own and another couchsurfer who wants her to work on an organic farm in Mexico

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-87603470143649130582009-07-24T22:57:00.000-07:002010-01-04T06:42:58.792-08:00

Arepas, black beans, white cheese and guacamole for lunch. I eat so well on this trip! My bowels seem fine today but I woke up this morning with a sore throat. On Saturday afternoon I slept until 2.30pm. S awoke a couple of hours later and for lunch I made what was supposed to be an omelette but turned out to be a mess of too many vegetables and not enough egg. Despite its inability to remain in

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-31320793449409459452009-07-16T14:31:00.000-07:002009-07-24T23:12:43.860-07:00

As S, A and I left the national gallery I was feeling tired and dodgy and all I wanted in the world was to go home, but I didn't say so. It is amazing how much tiredness can feel like illness.Still in Caracas's arts precinct, we stopped in one of the government-subsidised bookshops, Fundacion Librarias del Sur, where books are sold at cheap prices and the independent writings of Venezuelans

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-67459001498682689072009-07-14T09:10:00.000-07:002009-07-24T23:10:42.960-07:00

A is such an expressive lovely child. She likes to curl her fingers , wave her arms and growl like an angry tiger. She is very good at it. She often plays with her face, making her eyes big, and hopping. She thinks arepas and black beans are as good as chocolate. I am almost in agreement with her. She's extremely well-behaved and when she cries it is brief and quiet. We have taken to each other

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-59876276562879509862009-07-14T07:37:00.000-07:002009-07-24T23:10:03.889-07:00

I have been playing tickle and growl with A, S's daughter. It is great to hear a child laugh. I remember how much I loved being tickled when I was a kid. Now I find it scary - I am insanely ticklish.Yesterday was a big day. I made my way to the botanic gardens with S's written instructions: a bus to the metro, then a transfer, then a walk through the university. However, she misremembered the

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-61327301420013307862009-07-13T10:43:00.000-07:002010-01-04T06:31:54.704-08:00

I have seen an electric blue butterfly, a couple of small lizards, and a brown bird the size of a hummingbird, i.e. bug-sized and narrow. The Caracas botanic garden has a cactus pebble garden, a fernery, paths through a wooded hill, a bromeliad house and an orchid house. But no cafe, which is what I really need. I had two pieces of bread this morning, one smeared with a bit of mayonnaise. Now I

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-27500824803033274572009-07-13T10:20:00.000-07:002009-08-04T21:37:26.908-07:00

I am in Caracas!I look out S's living-room window to what last night was a hill sparkling with light dots but this morning is a hill of wood and tin shacks. S, my Caracas couchsurfing host, said the hill is supposed to be protected land, but the vegetation looks weedy and new-growth to my eyes.One of my big travel fears has been realised: I haven't been able to take money out of an ATM - it wants

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-50447113150623860822009-07-13T08:16:00.000-07:002009-08-04T21:32:48.284-07:00

Finally my brain worked this morning. My pen ran out in the cafe last night and I'm desperate to write. I was going to despair for the third time this morning but then I remembered my date book came with a small little pencil.I had a really wonderful stay in Peru. I am leaving utterly ungracefully. A series of little issues:1. When the clerk in the hostel called the bank for me regarding my eaten

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-12857890554019613952009-07-05T17:53:00.000-07:002009-08-04T21:33:25.644-07:00

I have spent the most enjoyable afternoon with G, a couchsurfer I arranged to meet with at Larcomar, the shopping plaza on the sea in Miraflores. We sat in a restaraunt called Mango and ate dessert while looking out at the ocean's fog. I had something pudding-like, apparently fruit-flavoured though it tasted more lke cheesecake, and a lukewarm cafe au lait. I was given a coffee cup and three mini

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-28032885151095065542009-07-02T08:32:00.000-07:002009-07-24T23:47:54.825-07:00

I have taken a photo of my meal: a tamale, passionfruit, carambola and a blue cheese and cucumber sandwich - a feast fit for a queen!On the way back from the gallery I walked the wrong way up Chiclayo. I passed a chocolate shop and when I turned around to go back the other way I decided I was MEANT to get chocolate, especially since I promised Solita I would sample chocolate on her behalf. I

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-46154392895606097032009-06-30T15:16:00.000-07:002009-07-02T10:38:42.052-07:00

For once I am writing while still in the presence of what I write about. I am at an exhibition of works by Peruvian artist Cristina Galvez. A good portion of her work is sculpture and drawings of animal- or form-faced human forms, skinny, with arms that taper off a quarter of the way down. Their armlessness and straight thinness is disturbing and the fantastical quality fo the characters I find

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-87044750433018193672009-06-29T08:24:00.000-07:002009-07-02T10:39:39.531-07:00

'Pimples' is such a harmles word compared to what goes on on my chin. Before I left for this trip I developed more huge painful zits that I tried to leave alone. I gave in to my overwhelming desire to massacre them: they hurt. So I came here with a series of welts that I have been incredibly self-conscious of, commenting on my face to others, particularly when I am told I look so much younger

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-11301510011361659022009-06-21T09:08:00.001-07:002009-07-24T23:40:49.416-07:00

It is late (yes, yes, in my normal life it is all too early) but I wanted to write a little bit. I have come from a nice dinner with J. The vegetarian restaurant was not open, so we walked a bit and found a little restaurant catering to locals rather than tourists - cheap meals, non-atmosphere, dotted with old men. I had a tortilla verdura, which was a straight omelette, enormous, with canned

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4696104349093240022.post-73623963366761628222009-06-21T08:29:00.000-07:002009-08-01T20:11:51.138-07:00

I am shortly to go off to dinner at a vegetarian restaurant with J, an American doctoral scientist from Michigan. We spent the day together in the beautiful city centre of Lima, all conquistador architecture - government buildings and cathedrals. Yellow boxy buildings with several stories of enclosed black balconies; an enormous white governor´s mansion reminiscent of both Buckingham Palace and

Rachelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13997274561065913265noreply@blogger.com1