I’ve been sadly neglectful of my random devouring of books lately. (Also, my blogwriting, but the jury is still out on whether or not “sadly” is the appropiate adjective in that context.) I’m now down to about a book a month. Despicable. Something to work on I think.
Might have to try out some audiobooks while riding the grasshopper, though I’m not sure my traffic-navigation-skills and the random grandma braving traffic on a bicycle will appreciate it all that much.
It’s almost time for the annual Wave Gotik Treffen again!
For those of you living under a rock, it’s the place to be during Whitsun – at least if you’re into industrial/gothic/synth/noise/darkwave/[insert random related genre here] music. A three day long music festival with approximately 200 bands and 20′000 visitors, all over town.
Though 200+ bands are more than I can recall from previous years, I only recognize a fraction of the bands. Either I’m getting old or there are a lot more less well-known bands playing this year. Not necessarily a bad thing, gives me a chance to try out something new instead of just going to concerts of bands I already know.
Since Velvet Acid Christ seems to have cancelled, there are only four bands I’m more than just marginally interested in seeing:
Actually, I’d never even heard of Kitty In A Casket before a friend recommended them today. Sounds interesting though! Not a genre I’ve listened to at all so far, so it’d be fun to see them live.
Bands that might be interesting, but whom I’ve seen before:
Bands I’ll most likely have to see due to peer pressure:
All in all, looks like it’s going to be a club-heavy and concert-light year for me. Despite the short list, I most likely still won’t be able to see all of bands on it. Concerts are played simultaneuously at venues all over town and the question “what should we see today?” is pretty much answered in the spur of the moment and while taking into consideration such important matters as the state of achiness of your feet, the state of emptiness of your wallet and – of course – the weather or whether or not you’re out of liquor.
Ran into a problem with the Lifestream plugin for Wordpress, so the latest set of pictures I uploaded never showed up in my lifestream. Will see what I can do about that. In the meanwhile, here are the pictures – nothing too exciting, but I’m rather pleased with the first one.
A day later we continued on from the Salar to the Chilean border. No electricity in the entire area meant that the pumps of the one existing gas station on the way to the border (about half a day’s driving away) weren’t working.
(Point of interest: if you see a gas station in Bolivia that is not overrun by people, chances are they’re either out of gas or have no electricity.)
(Another point of interest: if gas stations aren’t working, chances are, people that still have gas aren’t selling you any as they need it all for themselves.)
As the hours on our bumpy little road passed by we were getting more and more desperate. In the end we finally found a business-minded woman who probably made the deal of a lifetime on us. I assume she started packing to leave for greener pastures as soon as our dust-cloud disappeared behind the next hill. But, we were able to fill up our tank which meant that we would actually (probably, most likely) make it to the Chilean border, tarmac and all the other civilization-y goodnesses, so we were quite happy with the affair and able to enjoy the surroundings again.
The border-crossing completed (3-4 hours of corrupt border policemen, forms in triplicates, luggage searches and a sandstorm later) we made our way down to the coast. In pitch black again, but hey, back on tarmac, we weren’t going to complain.
Sunrise in Iquique
We stayed in Iquique for a day before following the Panamericana up to Arica. Lovely road. Chileans know how to build roads and – equally important – have the money to do it.
Not far from Arica, the road ends. Well, not literally, but someone surely felt that way when putting up the sign.
Feeling brave enough to continue despite that, we were (eventually) rewarded with the city of Arica. Somewhat smaller and more idyllic than Iquique, it’s also a costal city, water meeting sand and all that.
We stayed for a day before once again hitting the road. Time enough for a trip to the harbour and its overpowering smell of fishy fish-ness. Colourful and loud, the harbour is a mess of small fishing boats, pelicans and sea lions. The Boyfriend had a run in with a grumpy sea lion who took offence at his presence on the pier and torpedoed over to express his displeasure from a closer range. Boyfriend decided that pictures were not worth tangling with some hundred kilos of potentially upset sea lion and backed away rather quickly.
(to be continued)
Last year the Boyfriend and I went to visit my parents in La Paz, Bolivia. We were there for about 10 days (too short), the main part of which was spent on the roads of Bolivia and Chile. Not because we covered all that much in way of mileage but because the quality of the roads is quite different from what your average tarmac-spoiled European is used to.
Four-wheel-drive is a must. Ground clearance is a must. An obscenely big engine – also a must.
(It’s important to note that none of the above rules apply to the locals, who drive things which by all rights should not be drivable at all at speeds which can only be described as enthusiastically suicidal.)
On the way from La Paz (3500 m) to El Alto and the Altiplano (4000 m) you’re greeted by the sight of stuffed dolls hanging from poles or bridges. People don’t have a lot in way of property and thieves are dealt with accordingly. Not that I condone vigilante justice as such, but it’s hard to not to see their point of view when driving through the streets of El Alto.
When I visited my parents last year they had just moved themselves a couple of months earlier and were still blissfully unaware of the dos and don’ts of Bolivia. They had purchased a smaller, wannabe jeep (SUV) with reasonable ground clearance and four-wheel-drive that could be turned on and off via a button. No extra tire. No shovel. No flashlights. No sleeping bags. The first night was spent in the car in pitch black jungle-like surroundings. I’m somewhat surprised we lived to tell the tale.
Rudely abused of all naivety, my parents upgraded to a real jeep with somewhat more ground clearance and, yes, an obscenely large engine. It didn’t stop us from acquiring a flat tire that very first day in the middle of dusty nowhere (possibly still on the Altiplano given how huge it is), but at least we were prepared and had a spare tire. Go us!
Several dusty, bumpy hours on the headache-inducing road later we finally made it to our first stop, a salt hotel sitting at the edge of the Salar de Uyuni, the world’s largest salt flat. At 10,582 square kilometers (according to Wikipedia) it’s about half the size of Wales. Totally, mind-numbing flaty whiteness. Apart from a few islands, that is, which basically are volcano-top-leftovers. The biggest of those is the Incahuasi island.
Tunupa volcano
(to be continued)
-22 degrees. Not what the doctor ordered. Where’s the global warming induced heat when you need it? I’m officially considering hibernation.
On a different note: I’ve finally managed to make my way through the heap of vacation pictures from Bolivia and Chile. Go me. On the downside, I ended up with way too many pictures (not because I’m so great a photographer but because there is too much to show), so now I have to decide which ones I want to feature here.
If you just can’t wait a second longer or are bored out of your mind, the entire gallery can be found here.
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Winter just does not want to end this year. It could be another hundred-year-winter. But no, we already had Christmas. Fimbulvetr? No rising water levels yet, but there is still some time for that. Let’s you know when it’s alright to start panicking properly.
On a positive note, it seems that the beginning of the end is finally here for the US military’s Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy. The advocate being.. one Admiral Mullen? Who would’ve thunk.
Still – about bloody time. So kind of you to join us in the 21st century. What took you so long?
[New York Times]
Still nothing new on the Llama-front. On the other hand I found out today that you don’t actually need to put any imported pets in quarantine anymore. At least not if you’re migrating from a rabies-free country. Say what you will of this freezing bit of iceberg I’m currently inhabiting, but at least it’s rabies free!
So, lack of preparation for the Llama-business has me browsing Monster.ca for suitable job offers. Unfortunately, there seems to be a distinct lack of job offers for system developers so far..
(The weather in Vancouver being some 15 degrees warmer than here – which puts it at about 10° C for you overly curious people – is not helping matters. Sounds like lovely bike-riding-weather me. Practically summertime!)
