It's Wednesday 5th March, so obviously the whole day revolves around watching Northern Ireland play Cyprus in an international football friendly. Which is a pretty brutal 90 minutes of flicking between an online stream of the game and the horrible mid-match banter on www.ourweecountry.co.uk which was really a lot of middle aged men suffering this televisual endurance test.
After that, I needed a walk.
Oh yes, forgot to mention Sarah took me for a sneaky lunch at a branch of Bob's Burgers in Valparaiso. Nothing wrong with an enormous burger, though it did seem to be day one in the burger shop, as it took 20 minutes to get lunch, watching the kids lifting the burgers straight from the freezer and frying them right in front of our eyes. MMMMMMMM 50g burgers.
This is the view from Paseo Yugoeslavia.
So we went for a walk, and unintentionally ended up on Calle Alemania, the 'waist' of the city, which runs along the top of the hills. Here we found the good graffiti.
This is Plaza Bismark. Nice columns, and a chap attempting some kung-fu moves (provided that throwing yourself on the ground and against trees is kung-fu).
"Oi? Here's be's me wha?"
Not the comfiest spot I've ever seen,but I guess if the cap fits...
Sarah, with her love of dogs, refused to walk past these four (obviously mental) street dogs. They are quite tame, but they all go mad every time a pick-up truck drives past, which is quite amusing. On our way to the bus station on Friday we saw a gang of dogs, 6 or 7 in number, trying to cross the main road by failing miserably. They would head up another fifty feet and try again, but without joy. At one point I thought they were all just going to get on the streetcar.
"Hey cat, what's that over there? Is it A FERRARI?????" "Ummm... no. Nice try, dog"
We made the bottom of the hill and noticed this little pub which some Aussies had pointed out to me the day before. In we go. It's as close to my idea of what Belfast desperately needs in its stale bar scene. Behind the sparse bar is a glass-fronted brewing area where you can watch the beer being made. Some tall tables line the thin bar room, with a little room at the back with a big Harp mirror. Today we only have the American Pale Ale on draught, but stout and some sort of red beer (definitely not an Irish red, more like a 'Scotch ale' as they describe it) in bottles. Good award-winning beers we feel. We have a bit of a depressing moment however. I have turned up in the pub wearing my Norn Iron football top. At the table beside us we notice some folk are speaking English, and offer our salutations. One of the chaps speaks with a strong accent from the North West City. Despite our greetings, we are stubbornly ignored, and when they leave there are heads turned in the opposite direction. It leaves a bit of a meagre taste in the mouth that some people take their prejudices on holiday with them.
'Spiderman! Goes wherever a spider can!' Including up to a Chilean fleg, apparently.
Yeah, I'm a giraffe, and wha'? GIRAFFES! GIRAFFES! etc etc.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=srMePRL0aIQ to explain this.
Nothing like a brown Beemer. It screams antique class.
The famous Lutheran church which, have to admit, we have a fondness for, not least because of the good works they professed to do amongst the now (somewhat defunct) whoring population of Valparaíso.
The famous first Iron Rod spire.
And, because its Lutheran, there's a Menorah on the wall below the church. It reminds me of speaking with Dadi, who was humorously amused by Christians, particularly in the US, who believe the Jews really are the chosen people, and without whom it is impossible for Christians to enter Heaven, and who thus treat the Jews with unerring kindness and respect. He said Israelis take full advantage of that kindness (in the nicest possible way, of course), but it was a source of amusement back home.
Sunset in Valparaíso.
A day of innumerable ups and downs. Ends with us back in the hostel eating pasta and drinking more fine (cheap) Chilean wine, which cannot be underestimated. Whilst CYT is the bar wine of choice back home, its utterly impossible to buy a bottle of it here, as it's too crap (mind you, we haven't seen Bushmills whiskey the entire time we've been here). However, for £2 you can get an good bottle of wine, and £4 will get you a reserva, which is all you need to know. Had the first decent bottle of Merlot in my whole life here. Can honestly say I've changed my whole opinion of Chilean wine since we arrived here. It's good, very very good. It's just that the good stuff doesn't seem to get exported (check Misiones De Rango for some excellent supermarket Chilean wine, I've never heard of it before).
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