Tag Archive: travel


I jumped off the map of South America!

I couldn’t resist a visit to the “world’s most isolated inhabited island” – Rapa Nui, aka Easter Island / Isla de Pascua.

At about a mid-way point in the Pacific, between Chile and French Polynesia, or 1/3 of the way to the International Dateline (3800km, a 6-hour flight from Santiago), the island is a living legend.

Don’t worry, I meant that both literally and figuratively.

I don’t remember when I first saw the moai.. maybe a travel agency poster, maybe a National Geographic feature. But ever since, I just couldn’t shake the vision out of my mind. I’ve read about it, and it’s always the same bits of information told and re-told, but nothing definite. And then there were phrases thrown around like “the world’s unsolved mystery” and “a total enigma”.

I couldn’t contain my curiosity when I just found myself so (relatively) near.

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sneak peek

once an idea bubbles up in your mind you can’t ignore it..

like a mosquito bite, you scratch and it swells ..and you have to do something about it!

At first, when I arrived, the city seemed like a big colourful favela. I didn’t expect it to be this big. I only knew it was hilly and colourful. And so, I set off without a map, exploring..

And as soon as I got lost among the winding labyrinthine alleyways, I was captivated. There’s an art to getting lost.

And I had discovered the biggest open-air art gallery I know of.

Slightly dodgy, it looked like a gang of graffiti artists swept through the city, with nearly all the walls decorated with some form of street art, spray-painted inscriptions, stencils, and some really fantastic, vibrant murals.

All the houses have tin facades.

When it rains, the rains drum glorious marches.

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The soundtrack of Valparaiso

We were sitting at a cozy corner table for 3 at a funky bar/cafe on one of Valpo’s hills, drinking cheap but nonetheless great Chilean Shiraz. The restaurant was full to the brim; conversations, laughter and guitar filled the rest of the available space.

The music, suddenly, became very quiet. What for: a speech? a live performance? This place could fit nothing more, even the waiters were having a hard time waltzing between the tables.

But came they did, anyhow.

The girl had a fresh, strong voice. And the accompanying guitar perfectly complemented the already simmering vibe in here. No fancy dance performance, no backup kicks, no pomp – only the voice and the guitar.

The sound, although a bit melancholy, still roused a smile on my face.

They walked out with their instruments and their tips, and left us in the wake of raw emotions, while I scrambled a pen and a paper to jot down the duo’s coordinates.

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Once, the night lasted two nights

dusks, twilights and dawns blended all the colours together

and my soul felt both lighter and heavier, open, but dark

In every new place I always stay up at least one night and wait out the dawn. It’s a whole different production – kind of quiet, fresh, almost a backstage view: the garabagemen, the bakers, or dawn breakers, no matter – I always pretend they are light-extinguishers. Like in Antoine de Saint-Exupery’s Little Prince.

One such morning, way past sunrise, Tali and I were still walking around waiting for the small outdoor flea market on San Enrique to get going, in the meantime lazing on a bench at the foot of Papudo.

We were almost dosing off there in the pleasant 20C sun..

When a girl, slender and tall, walked up to a parapet and lay on it, looking straight up at the sky. View full article »

There are passages and roads and realms unknown, unseen
there are roads sometimes dark and narrow, and many voyages between.
Looking through the windows of stories going by, of places with nothing to hide..
yet when the passage is complete, something stays within us
And, if not, it will come to be..

(inspired by ‘The Door Within’) View full article »

There are so many adventures, I only have time to churn out segments. This was on that side of the Andes. Stay tuned for what’s happening on the Chilean side!

I wrote this article for living green magazine. Check it out in full here.

Mendoza is Argentina’s famous wine-producing region, with over 1700 wineries in the region. Argentina’s is the fifth-largest in the world, and Mendoza accounts for over 60% of it.

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A popular landmark, Recoleta cemetery, houses the famous spirits of Argentine revolutionary and literary past

It’s like a small walled city, with creepy but very picturesque crypts..

You never know what’s hidden there, until you, too, unleash your curiosity

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segments of life, Buenos Aires

The amount of meat consumed here is staggering, alarming in fact. I look at their shopping carts and my eyes pop.

But there are a lot of neighbourhood produce markets, almost on every corner in all parts of the city, even San Telmo, but especially in Palermo, Colegiales, Belgrano, Villa Ortuzar, Chacarita, Caballito and Almagro (the north-western areas of the city where I rode my bike daily), with rows of fresh fruit and vegetables that help balance out the needs. Certain markets have more exotic greens, such as ocra, and hot peppers.

I am shopping for my daily fix of produce. I spot the figs. I have a love affair with figs.

- cuanto cuestan los higos? [how much are the figs?]

- dos para un peso [two for a peso]

- solo un peso? tan barato! [just one peso? so cheap!]

- no, mi querida, dos para un beso [no, my dear, two for a kiss]

- ah, no es tan barato [oh, that's not as cheap]

He crinkles his eyes, tilts his head and smiles his toothless grin. I think this calls for a bargain.

- Quizaaas… un por un abrazo? [what do you saaaay to... one for a hug?]

- bueno, de acuerdo [alright, it's a deal]

-

My sister, ever a shopaholic, said she’s well on her way to Buenos Aires if this is how shopping here is done.

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the witches of Plaza Dorrego

Ah, the clichéd label “Paris of the Southern Hemisphere” you will see only in guidebooks. It does, however, indeed, remind of Paris. But mostly of Madrid. And to me, even of Belgrade. All the big European cities I love.

I suppose this is what it’s like when you’re always on the road: you take what’s dear along with you. Like memories and symbolisms.

My coup de foudre happened in San Telmo, where else? It was just so that I was viewing a room for rent on Calle Defensa on a Sunday.

Las calles de Buenos Aires

ya son mi entraña

-Borges

I think the owner was well aware of the effect of her request. I saw the street, I saw the crowd, I saw the dusty ornate facade and I was ready to cash out 2 months rent. Then I saw the improvisation of a bathroom, and the dream drained promptly.

I went back out on the street, sat on the sidewalk, hugged a glass of tinto, and resumed people-watching.

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