It hasn’t really felt like winter’s as I remember them, but then again I do remember some pretty grim winters. Miner’s strikes cutting power to damp cities, shoes that never seemed to dry out, England and I are in a better place now.
The thing that has really Continue reading
I missed the snowy antics at the lido last weekend and thought that it could have been the last chance this year. However as lady luck may have it not only did it start snowing again last night, but it was also Ian’s birthday hence the lido had a bit of the Sunday atmosphere about it this morning. Happy birthday Ian! Continue reading
Whilst roasting in the Tooting Bec Lido sauna the other day someone referred to the current weather as a heat wave. The water, hovering at 5 degrees seems to some to be a balmy bath compared to what it could be at this time of year, so people wander about virtually naked but for a lick of cloth and occasionally a pair of Liz Taylor sunglasses, chit chatting as if we were in Benalmadena minus the palms. Anyone looking in through the security fence might see people who are locked in for their own good. Continue reading
Tooting Bec Lido is situated in a South London park. It’s huge, is almost two Olympic length pools end to end (100 yards long) and the width of a normal swimming pool.
It’s also unheated.
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I can’t believe it was the 19th of May that I returned to Blighty, it seems like an age since then.
I have done few of the things I had lined up for my return and many of the things I had not, for instance I have only been to one festival though I had lined up myself a good few more to attend, yet have been busy work-wise plus have been helping a fellow turn his pub into an art gallery. Continue reading
When my gorgeous girlfriend gets on a plane I have been known to get a phone call from the cabin. She checks out the safety features, the amount of engines Continue reading
On my way to the airport from Roseville (how lovely Roseville sounds and it is, a leafy flowery suburb of Sydney) I stood on the train platform in the bright, breezy Autumn sun and watched the myna birds pivot on the track-side bushes, the cockatoos flap like rags, rosellas flash and spark in noisy conversation, the world was alight colour. It was at that moment that I realised I could make Australia my home. Continue reading
I bought a Nikon S8100 recently to because I had my wonderful little Panasonic Lumix DZ10 stolen in Chile. Continue reading
I arrived in Australia and had a little shindig with friends I know in Sydney. The hospitality of the Krasnowskis knows no limits, so Jon, Rob, Sean and Dai all had a great evening out topped Continue reading
For a last wave at South America Valparaiso was a double edged sword, but certainly an interesting one. I loved the place but should have tucked myself in bed safely after dark, but the alternative certainly leads to an interesting life. Continue reading
Valparaiso is one of those places that defines a country. It is a loud mouth of a city, colourful, unapologetic, it has trade and a good climate that puts Santiago to shame, Continue reading
Valdivia is a pretty university town that was started up by German settlers. It has a civilised air to it, nice bars, traditions, great brewers! Yup, Continue reading
The bus journey from Castro to Puerto Montt was a lovely journey. Green rolling hills, a ferry across the Canal de Chacao standing on deck with spray in the face from a wind flecked sea. Continue reading
I had a weeks work to do in Castro so I found a neat little house to stay in with good Internet at the Hospidaje Familiar under the watchful eye of Orfilia and buckled down.
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The early morning bus ride with a hangover, dealing with customs, gorgeous mountains, back to Chile. I love the idea of stitching my way back and forth across such a grandiose mountain range, as if it were a playground ride, something to skip over, surf down. This time to the rafting mecca of Futaleufu.
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Esquel, supposedly Welsh as are some of the villages around the area. I stopped by for a cuppa in one of the ‘tea’ houses in Trevelin, just down the road.
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I found a lovely bunch of people running a paragliding hostel a short half an hours walk from town. The welcome was wonderful at the house of Martin and Mariella, there were a few other paragliding folks and Martins’s brother Diego. Continue reading
After my train ride to and my bus ride back from Carmen de Patagones I needed somewhere to stay for Xmas, so I headed down to El Bolson Continue reading
The train station of San Carlos de Bariloche is a little like much of Argentina, one part first world and two parts third world. The station has great little cafe that is reminiscent Continue reading
After hanging around in the Bariloche wilds for a good while I moved into town as I was in need of a simple company. The Refugio Cordillera was a funny old place, Continue reading