Wednesday, September 20, 2000
Tuesday, September 19, 2000
Monday, September 18, 2000
An extract from Full Circle
"Full Circle is the book which accompanied the BBC TV series. I saw the episode in question on television on Boxing Day and was absolutely enchanted with his experiences. Days 178 to 181 really captured my imagination and made me want to follow in his footsteps - perhaps when you read the following text you will understand why!" [Angela]
An Extract From "Full Circle".
The following text is taken from Michael Palin's "Full Circle" which was first published in 1997 and has been reprinted five times.
ARICA, Day 178.
At the port of Arica, only 12 miles from the Peruvian border, it is Army Day. Which is quite suitable really as it was through military action that Chile acquired Arica in the first place. In the War of the Pacific, between 1789 and 1883, Chile seized Arica and Tarapaca province from Peru as well as a large chunk of Bolivia, including all her coastline.
The sound of a twenty-one gun salute early this morning and the presence of General Pinochet in town reinforces my impression that the traditional hierarchy of Chile - rich landowners and old families in alliance with conservative and highly trained armed forces - is still firmly in place.
Stir myself for an early morning run by the Pacific. The sea must be rich here for there are sea birds everywhere. Great gangling pelicans, storm-petrels, boobys, skuas and shearwaters skim the waves while red-beaked oystercatchers scuttle up and down the foreshore and forbidding red-headed turkey vultures glare balefully from the rocks. The clouds are low, thick and depressing. The cold, offshore current which bears the name of its nineteenth century discoverer, Humboldt, condenses the warm desert air into a low and formless mist which blots out the sun and envelops the Pacific coast as far north as Panama for eight months of the year. It looks like rain-cloud, but it never rains here. Odd to think that the world's most abundant source of water and its driest desert can exist side by side.
Day 179.
Roger has made the sensational discovery that General Pinochet was beneath our roof last night, being feted at an Army Day banquet. Just to prove it, he got out his rarely-seen camera and took his first photographs on the entire Pacific Rim journey - twenty four views of General Pinochet leaving the El Paso Hotel, Arica. "They are for history", he says, modestly.
Instead of following the fog-bound Pacific coast, we have decided to travel by rail and river from Bolivia into the Peruvian interior, across the Altiplano (the high plains of the Andes) and down into the river system which leads eventually to the Amazon and the remote southern reaches of Colombia. It is potentially by far the most difficult and dangerous stretch of our journey. "No gain without pain" will be the motto of the next few weeks. When, and if, we emerge from the Colombian jungle, the reward will be the prospect of North America and a relatively "civilised" race to the finish.
Arica's tiny station is only a few hundred yards from the ocean, where hefty breakers smash onto the rocks with lazy, effortless strength. We needn't have hurried. There is no sign of the eight o'clock departure for La Paz. A half dozen mangy cats lope off behind the bushes as we unload our bags. On the tiny platform there is a memorial to one "John Roberts Jones, Ingeniero, who oversaw construction of the line into Arica and died of malaria on the 18th of February 1911." My mind goes back to Pringle Stokes of the Beagle, whose memorial lies two and a half thousand miles away, beside a snow-covered beach at the other end of Chile, and I wonder what it was that induced both men to come so far from home and risk their lives in such pitiless climates. They didn't even have the BBC as an excuse.
A single ticket to La Paz costs 52 dollars, "in clean US bills only," my guidebook adds. Once paid, there is nothing to do but wait. When the train that is to take us over the Andes finally arrives there is a palpable sense of anti-climax amongst the sprinkling of mainly foreign travellers who have been checking their watches with increasing anxiety for the past hour. All that stands between us and Bolivia is a single dusty, silver-grey railbus, designed and built in Germany thirty years ago to potter around the suburbs of Munich. Like Pringle Stokes and John Roberts Jones it seems destined to end its life far from home. And, from the look of it, quite soon.
Every item of heavy baggage, and we have forty-eight, is hoisted onto the roof by the stationmaster assisted by his wife, and endlessly cheerful lady in a beige cardigan. Vitaliano, the driver, helps from time to time. He has been driving the Ferrobus since 1992, he says, and adds proudly: "I have been filmed four times." (Not exactly what we want to hear.)
We leave precisely on the hour, although not the hour we were meant to leave precisely on. We have a driver, an assistant driver, a steward and twenty-five passengers on board, including Linda, the big American we last saw on the MV Puerto Eden and her boyfriend who today sports a "Name your Poison" T-shirt with a death's head on it. No one dares ask when we might reach La Paz. The word "nightfall" is vaguely mentioned.
This could be optimistic, at the rate we're going. The first stop is not for a station, but to change the points, a cumbersome business which requires the assistant driver to climb out, walk up the line, unlock a pad-locked lever, change the points and repeat the whole process in reverse after the train has passed.
About 20 miles out of Arica we ride a long left hand bend over the river and are suddenly and dramatically into the desert. The orchards, pastures and maize fields of the Lluta Valley recede below us like a thin, green glacier. The last remnants of the coastal fog are burnt away: The sun glares down. Our little coach, reduced to a speck in a mighty landscape, climbs slowly, and with frightening gear changes. We seem to hang on the mountainside in a perilous limbo, as the cogs struggle to sort themselves out. And it is steep. Within a distance of 25 miles we climb 7500 feet.
A thin plastic water pipe runs beside the line. Without it we probably wouldn't get across the Andes. Wherever there is a spigot the driver stops the train, fills a red plastic bucket and refreshes the engine cooling system, which is working harder as the air gets thinner.
I'm beginning to feel light-headed myself. We've all been warned of the effects of altitude sickness, but all I feel at the moment is a curious elation, a kind of couldn't-care-less contentment. Now I know why they call it being high.
Six and a half hours after leaving Arica we have reached the Chilean frontier. A faded sign shows the official altitude to be 13,305 feet. There is not much here. A few derelict sheds, some stone buildings from more prosperous time which now provide little more than walls to urinate behind and shade for those getting off the train for a smoke (not allowed on board). All around us stretches the altiplano, a wide, treeless plateau of boggy grassland in shades from rich emerald to lemon green, bordered by the implacable white peaks - Putre, 19,102 feet, Larrancagua, 17,712 feet and the mighty volcano Sajama, its cone rising 21,500 feet. The air is clean and pure and the sunshine quite blinding. I stride off up the line to get the best view. Feel giddy after a few steps and have to slow down. I notice too that the ink flows more thinly from my pen as I try to make a note of what happened.
A mile further on, across a no-man's land, populated only by grazing llamas, is the Bolivian border town of Charana. It's pretty clear from the look of the people and the condition of the buildings that we have crossed more than just a line on the map. Chile has a per capita GNP of 2730 dollars. Bolivia is the poorest country in South America, with a per capita GNP of 680 dollars. Most Chileans are mestizos, of mixed Spanish and Indian blood, sixty per cent of Bolivians are pure Indian. No one in Chile wears a bowler hat. In Charana all the women seem to have them. The military in Chile are always immaculate. The soldiers on the Bolivian frontier wear shapeless baggy trousers, tight, creased jackets and cotton forage hats.
The only sign of any investment in Charana is a gleaming new set of Banos Publicos, certainly the finest public conveniences I've seen since Santiago. I find them firmly locked. I suppose it makes sense; the public would only make a mess of them.
Linda, the American, is taking the altitude badly. She says she had been told there was oxygen on the train and there wasn't and she had mimed to the steward that she badly needed to sniff something and he had said rather huffily, "No, that is Colombia, we do not have that here." In the end they sorted it out and they gave her a large mug of coca leaf tea, which he was not allowed to serve in Chile. Coca leaves contain cocaine, and are chewed by the people of the Andes as commonly as we smoke tobacco.
We are now over the watershed and rattling downhill. The driver bounce up and down on his seat like a man on a pogo stick, and the coca tea is flying everywhere. This does wonders for conradeship and soon the two New Zealand girls who are travelling with their mother, "to all try and get to know each other", are talking to the German with the Peruvian wife and nineteen-month-old baby, Linda and the Dutch backpackers are comparing altitude sickness and the two Norwegians who were robbed in Ecuador are chatting up two heavily tanned girls from Brisbane. Outside it grows dark and very cold. The cold stops everyone talking and after we've eaten our chicken and chips we try to sleep as the little rail-car bumps and grinds precariously towards La Paz.
It seems wholly predictable when, shortly after our twelfth hour on the train and within an ace of La Paz, there is a jarring whine, a lurch and silence. We are derailed. The driver reaches for a torch and climbs down. Voices are raised, a small crowd of people emerge from the darkness. The front wheels are off, and the baggage mountain on top of the train is tilted at a dangerously jaunty angle. Opinions are passed round. The driver disappears into the darkness with a shovel. He comes back with a pile of earth and stones which he tips into the space between the line and the unclosed point. Others dig around for stones and throw them on as well.
There are two small children among the crowd of locals which has gathered. I ask them if they have ever seen anyone try to put a train back on the line like this before. They nod cheerfully. This is how they always do it. I shouldn't worry, they say, it only takes half an hour. Sure enough, half an hour later, after some frenzied throttling, the whirring wheels catch the rubble and climb back on the line.
Cold and tired we may be but our adventures are not over yet. The approach to La Paz is dramatic. The city is built in an enormous canyon into which we descend in a series of corkscrew spirals. The glittering lights of the city below promise excitement and glamour but the closer view is depressing. The line is unfenced and neglected. At times the track disappears from sight beneath sand, dirt and stones. Packs of bony dogs prowl ahead of us, picking at the scattered piles of rubbish. Two drunks are caught in the headlamps walking alone the line, balancing shakily on the rail and laughing. Perhaps the final indignity, as we wind our way down into the city, is finding two tall iron gates closed against us. The drivers, whose patience has been saintly, grab torches and climb down yet again. Eventually a lady in a red shawl and a billowing pink dress emerges from a shed, takes out a key and carefully unlocks the gates. The drivers remount only to find that, while they were out, a passing drunk has climbed into the train. He's mistaken us for his bus home and is quite confused. The driver ejects him and we edge forward through the gates, which the lady in the pink dress locks after us, only to find ourselves in the middle of a city street. The driver hoots back at cars, themselves indignant at finding a train from Chile in the middle of their traffic jam. It is a wondrous, surreal finale to a journey which comes to an end a few minutes later at a deserted, unexpectedly handsome station, fourteen hours after leaving Arica.
We've covered the distance at an average speed of 16.4 miles an hour. But no one's complaining. There were many times during this momentous day when we thought we'd be lucky to get here at all.
La Paz, Day 180.
Seroche. That's what I'm suffering from. It's a Spanish word, and has a glamorous ring to it that the English counterpart, "altitude sickness", sadly lacks.
All of us, in varying degrees, "soroched", and we shall spend two days here retuning our systems for a further week of high altitude travel that lies ahead.
La Paz, or La Cuidad de Nuestra Senora De La Paz as it was was named by Alonzo de Mendoza, its Spanish founder, in 1548, is a strange place. The highest capital in the world at 12,000 feet, but at the bottom of a hole. The rich live at the foot of the hill and the poor at the top. Mud-walled houses are piled up the walls of the canyon, while a modern high-rise city occupies the centre. Between the two is a labyrinth of steep streets that tempt the eye but test the unacclimatised walker.
Street traders seem to have taken over the centre of La Paz. The pavements groan beneath the sackfuls of socks, piles of shoes, mountains of embroidered brassieres and hectares of Stayprest trousers. Beside them sit Indian men and women, known as cholos or cholas, in from the country. The women are particularly distinctive, wearing felt bowlers perched on top of dark, centrally parted, often plaited hair and carrying their worldly goods in fat cloth bundles. Their dresses are made from various combinations of bright, shiny material and worn wide and full over multiple petticoats. Apparently the whole outfit was foisted on the Indians by Spanish law over two hundred years ago.
Despite, or maybe because of this, the Indians resolutely refused to take Spanish as their first language and even today mostly speak only the Indian languages of Aymara or Quechua. And they don't like being photographed. Basil has had water flicked at him by several ladies and aspersions cast on his legitimacy, In Aymara and Quechua.
Higher up the hills behind the find stone facade of the Basilica of San Francisco I find very odd things for sale, including dried llama foetuses. Apparently they bring good luck. I'm told that no self-respecting new building goes up in La Paz without a llama foetus in the foundations. (Other bits of llama are put to good use as well. La Paz was the first capital in South America to have its own electricity supply. It was powered in those early days by llama dung.)
Minibuses squeeze past me through the streets with children at their open doorways shouting a list of destinations in a lilting monotone, like a priest absolving sins. Shoe blacks who can't be more than eight or nine years old, shout "Blanco!" and point accusingly at my travel-worn trainers. It's a disorderly entertaining city and I return to the sober, more expensive anonymity of the commercial district tired but happy, in time to watch the sun slip behind the surrounding hills and the canyon walls turn into a carpet of sparkling lights.
An Extract From "Full Circle".
The following text is taken from Michael Palin's "Full Circle" which was first published in 1997 and has been reprinted five times.
ARICA, Day 178.
At the port of Arica, only 12 miles from the Peruvian border, it is Army Day. Which is quite suitable really as it was through military action that Chile acquired Arica in the first place. In the War of the Pacific, between 1789 and 1883, Chile seized Arica and Tarapaca province from Peru as well as a large chunk of Bolivia, including all her coastline.
The sound of a twenty-one gun salute early this morning and the presence of General Pinochet in town reinforces my impression that the traditional hierarchy of Chile - rich landowners and old families in alliance with conservative and highly trained armed forces - is still firmly in place.
Stir myself for an early morning run by the Pacific. The sea must be rich here for there are sea birds everywhere. Great gangling pelicans, storm-petrels, boobys, skuas and shearwaters skim the waves while red-beaked oystercatchers scuttle up and down the foreshore and forbidding red-headed turkey vultures glare balefully from the rocks. The clouds are low, thick and depressing. The cold, offshore current which bears the name of its nineteenth century discoverer, Humboldt, condenses the warm desert air into a low and formless mist which blots out the sun and envelops the Pacific coast as far north as Panama for eight months of the year. It looks like rain-cloud, but it never rains here. Odd to think that the world's most abundant source of water and its driest desert can exist side by side.
Day 179.
Roger has made the sensational discovery that General Pinochet was beneath our roof last night, being feted at an Army Day banquet. Just to prove it, he got out his rarely-seen camera and took his first photographs on the entire Pacific Rim journey - twenty four views of General Pinochet leaving the El Paso Hotel, Arica. "They are for history", he says, modestly.
Instead of following the fog-bound Pacific coast, we have decided to travel by rail and river from Bolivia into the Peruvian interior, across the Altiplano (the high plains of the Andes) and down into the river system which leads eventually to the Amazon and the remote southern reaches of Colombia. It is potentially by far the most difficult and dangerous stretch of our journey. "No gain without pain" will be the motto of the next few weeks. When, and if, we emerge from the Colombian jungle, the reward will be the prospect of North America and a relatively "civilised" race to the finish.
Arica's tiny station is only a few hundred yards from the ocean, where hefty breakers smash onto the rocks with lazy, effortless strength. We needn't have hurried. There is no sign of the eight o'clock departure for La Paz. A half dozen mangy cats lope off behind the bushes as we unload our bags. On the tiny platform there is a memorial to one "John Roberts Jones, Ingeniero, who oversaw construction of the line into Arica and died of malaria on the 18th of February 1911." My mind goes back to Pringle Stokes of the Beagle, whose memorial lies two and a half thousand miles away, beside a snow-covered beach at the other end of Chile, and I wonder what it was that induced both men to come so far from home and risk their lives in such pitiless climates. They didn't even have the BBC as an excuse.
A single ticket to La Paz costs 52 dollars, "in clean US bills only," my guidebook adds. Once paid, there is nothing to do but wait. When the train that is to take us over the Andes finally arrives there is a palpable sense of anti-climax amongst the sprinkling of mainly foreign travellers who have been checking their watches with increasing anxiety for the past hour. All that stands between us and Bolivia is a single dusty, silver-grey railbus, designed and built in Germany thirty years ago to potter around the suburbs of Munich. Like Pringle Stokes and John Roberts Jones it seems destined to end its life far from home. And, from the look of it, quite soon.
Every item of heavy baggage, and we have forty-eight, is hoisted onto the roof by the stationmaster assisted by his wife, and endlessly cheerful lady in a beige cardigan. Vitaliano, the driver, helps from time to time. He has been driving the Ferrobus since 1992, he says, and adds proudly: "I have been filmed four times." (Not exactly what we want to hear.)
We leave precisely on the hour, although not the hour we were meant to leave precisely on. We have a driver, an assistant driver, a steward and twenty-five passengers on board, including Linda, the big American we last saw on the MV Puerto Eden and her boyfriend who today sports a "Name your Poison" T-shirt with a death's head on it. No one dares ask when we might reach La Paz. The word "nightfall" is vaguely mentioned.
This could be optimistic, at the rate we're going. The first stop is not for a station, but to change the points, a cumbersome business which requires the assistant driver to climb out, walk up the line, unlock a pad-locked lever, change the points and repeat the whole process in reverse after the train has passed.
About 20 miles out of Arica we ride a long left hand bend over the river and are suddenly and dramatically into the desert. The orchards, pastures and maize fields of the Lluta Valley recede below us like a thin, green glacier. The last remnants of the coastal fog are burnt away: The sun glares down. Our little coach, reduced to a speck in a mighty landscape, climbs slowly, and with frightening gear changes. We seem to hang on the mountainside in a perilous limbo, as the cogs struggle to sort themselves out. And it is steep. Within a distance of 25 miles we climb 7500 feet.
A thin plastic water pipe runs beside the line. Without it we probably wouldn't get across the Andes. Wherever there is a spigot the driver stops the train, fills a red plastic bucket and refreshes the engine cooling system, which is working harder as the air gets thinner.
I'm beginning to feel light-headed myself. We've all been warned of the effects of altitude sickness, but all I feel at the moment is a curious elation, a kind of couldn't-care-less contentment. Now I know why they call it being high.
Six and a half hours after leaving Arica we have reached the Chilean frontier. A faded sign shows the official altitude to be 13,305 feet. There is not much here. A few derelict sheds, some stone buildings from more prosperous time which now provide little more than walls to urinate behind and shade for those getting off the train for a smoke (not allowed on board). All around us stretches the altiplano, a wide, treeless plateau of boggy grassland in shades from rich emerald to lemon green, bordered by the implacable white peaks - Putre, 19,102 feet, Larrancagua, 17,712 feet and the mighty volcano Sajama, its cone rising 21,500 feet. The air is clean and pure and the sunshine quite blinding. I stride off up the line to get the best view. Feel giddy after a few steps and have to slow down. I notice too that the ink flows more thinly from my pen as I try to make a note of what happened.
A mile further on, across a no-man's land, populated only by grazing llamas, is the Bolivian border town of Charana. It's pretty clear from the look of the people and the condition of the buildings that we have crossed more than just a line on the map. Chile has a per capita GNP of 2730 dollars. Bolivia is the poorest country in South America, with a per capita GNP of 680 dollars. Most Chileans are mestizos, of mixed Spanish and Indian blood, sixty per cent of Bolivians are pure Indian. No one in Chile wears a bowler hat. In Charana all the women seem to have them. The military in Chile are always immaculate. The soldiers on the Bolivian frontier wear shapeless baggy trousers, tight, creased jackets and cotton forage hats.
The only sign of any investment in Charana is a gleaming new set of Banos Publicos, certainly the finest public conveniences I've seen since Santiago. I find them firmly locked. I suppose it makes sense; the public would only make a mess of them.
Linda, the American, is taking the altitude badly. She says she had been told there was oxygen on the train and there wasn't and she had mimed to the steward that she badly needed to sniff something and he had said rather huffily, "No, that is Colombia, we do not have that here." In the end they sorted it out and they gave her a large mug of coca leaf tea, which he was not allowed to serve in Chile. Coca leaves contain cocaine, and are chewed by the people of the Andes as commonly as we smoke tobacco.
We are now over the watershed and rattling downhill. The driver bounce up and down on his seat like a man on a pogo stick, and the coca tea is flying everywhere. This does wonders for conradeship and soon the two New Zealand girls who are travelling with their mother, "to all try and get to know each other", are talking to the German with the Peruvian wife and nineteen-month-old baby, Linda and the Dutch backpackers are comparing altitude sickness and the two Norwegians who were robbed in Ecuador are chatting up two heavily tanned girls from Brisbane. Outside it grows dark and very cold. The cold stops everyone talking and after we've eaten our chicken and chips we try to sleep as the little rail-car bumps and grinds precariously towards La Paz.
It seems wholly predictable when, shortly after our twelfth hour on the train and within an ace of La Paz, there is a jarring whine, a lurch and silence. We are derailed. The driver reaches for a torch and climbs down. Voices are raised, a small crowd of people emerge from the darkness. The front wheels are off, and the baggage mountain on top of the train is tilted at a dangerously jaunty angle. Opinions are passed round. The driver disappears into the darkness with a shovel. He comes back with a pile of earth and stones which he tips into the space between the line and the unclosed point. Others dig around for stones and throw them on as well.
There are two small children among the crowd of locals which has gathered. I ask them if they have ever seen anyone try to put a train back on the line like this before. They nod cheerfully. This is how they always do it. I shouldn't worry, they say, it only takes half an hour. Sure enough, half an hour later, after some frenzied throttling, the whirring wheels catch the rubble and climb back on the line.
Cold and tired we may be but our adventures are not over yet. The approach to La Paz is dramatic. The city is built in an enormous canyon into which we descend in a series of corkscrew spirals. The glittering lights of the city below promise excitement and glamour but the closer view is depressing. The line is unfenced and neglected. At times the track disappears from sight beneath sand, dirt and stones. Packs of bony dogs prowl ahead of us, picking at the scattered piles of rubbish. Two drunks are caught in the headlamps walking alone the line, balancing shakily on the rail and laughing. Perhaps the final indignity, as we wind our way down into the city, is finding two tall iron gates closed against us. The drivers, whose patience has been saintly, grab torches and climb down yet again. Eventually a lady in a red shawl and a billowing pink dress emerges from a shed, takes out a key and carefully unlocks the gates. The drivers remount only to find that, while they were out, a passing drunk has climbed into the train. He's mistaken us for his bus home and is quite confused. The driver ejects him and we edge forward through the gates, which the lady in the pink dress locks after us, only to find ourselves in the middle of a city street. The driver hoots back at cars, themselves indignant at finding a train from Chile in the middle of their traffic jam. It is a wondrous, surreal finale to a journey which comes to an end a few minutes later at a deserted, unexpectedly handsome station, fourteen hours after leaving Arica.
We've covered the distance at an average speed of 16.4 miles an hour. But no one's complaining. There were many times during this momentous day when we thought we'd be lucky to get here at all.
La Paz, Day 180.
Seroche. That's what I'm suffering from. It's a Spanish word, and has a glamorous ring to it that the English counterpart, "altitude sickness", sadly lacks.
All of us, in varying degrees, "soroched", and we shall spend two days here retuning our systems for a further week of high altitude travel that lies ahead.
La Paz, or La Cuidad de Nuestra Senora De La Paz as it was was named by Alonzo de Mendoza, its Spanish founder, in 1548, is a strange place. The highest capital in the world at 12,000 feet, but at the bottom of a hole. The rich live at the foot of the hill and the poor at the top. Mud-walled houses are piled up the walls of the canyon, while a modern high-rise city occupies the centre. Between the two is a labyrinth of steep streets that tempt the eye but test the unacclimatised walker.
Street traders seem to have taken over the centre of La Paz. The pavements groan beneath the sackfuls of socks, piles of shoes, mountains of embroidered brassieres and hectares of Stayprest trousers. Beside them sit Indian men and women, known as cholos or cholas, in from the country. The women are particularly distinctive, wearing felt bowlers perched on top of dark, centrally parted, often plaited hair and carrying their worldly goods in fat cloth bundles. Their dresses are made from various combinations of bright, shiny material and worn wide and full over multiple petticoats. Apparently the whole outfit was foisted on the Indians by Spanish law over two hundred years ago.
Despite, or maybe because of this, the Indians resolutely refused to take Spanish as their first language and even today mostly speak only the Indian languages of Aymara or Quechua. And they don't like being photographed. Basil has had water flicked at him by several ladies and aspersions cast on his legitimacy, In Aymara and Quechua.
Higher up the hills behind the find stone facade of the Basilica of San Francisco I find very odd things for sale, including dried llama foetuses. Apparently they bring good luck. I'm told that no self-respecting new building goes up in La Paz without a llama foetus in the foundations. (Other bits of llama are put to good use as well. La Paz was the first capital in South America to have its own electricity supply. It was powered in those early days by llama dung.)
Minibuses squeeze past me through the streets with children at their open doorways shouting a list of destinations in a lilting monotone, like a priest absolving sins. Shoe blacks who can't be more than eight or nine years old, shout "Blanco!" and point accusingly at my travel-worn trainers. It's a disorderly entertaining city and I return to the sober, more expensive anonymity of the commercial district tired but happy, in time to watch the sun slip behind the surrounding hills and the canyon walls turn into a carpet of sparkling lights.
Monday, August 14, 2000
Monday 14th August.
My first whole day in Edinburgh was magic. I started off listening to Qosqo but it wasn't long before I found where Kantaro played each day, and there were other Andean bands to watch as well - Apu from Peru, Waykis from Peru and Mashicuna from Ecuador. I was also enjoying Edinburgh itself and all the wonderful shops, plus other street entertainment on offer. The whole atmosphere of the town was festive and friendly and I knew I'd really enjoy our time there. We arrived on 13 August and ended up staying right until the end on 2nd September, departing for home on Sunday 3rd September (with me having to go back to work on Monday the 4th!!)
After two nights at Isaac's flat we spent a night with Apu at the flat they had rented from a friend. This was right in Edinburgh city so we had a fantastic night out with them until around four in the morning. Salsa clubs are all the rage in Edinburgh and the one we went to that night with Apu was a really good one, with lovely music. However after one night with them, we decided not to impose further and went off the following evening to the campsite at Musselburgh, erected the tents and got ourselves organised. We only had small tents so they were just to sleep in. Every day we had takeaway breakfasts in the morning and something else for lunch, choosing a different restaurant to eat each evening. Ronal was returning to France two days later so he stayed on with Apu as my tent was too small for sharing. It didn't take me long to decide I liked Kantaro best out of all the Andean bands and I planned my whole day around their performances, watching the other bands in between, as well as touring the shops. On the 3rd day I found a brilliant internet cafe and was a regular visitor after that, keeping in touch by email with friends.
It didn't take us long to find a Sainsburys with cafe and we went there several times because of the 2 for the price of 1 meal offer. However, this time we all had 2 meals each, rather than trying to save money doubling up. We even spread the word a bit and some of the Peruvians and Bolivians found there way there too. It was really funny on one occasion. The tables weren't very big there and it was impossible to fit 16 plates on the 2 tables! Then as we were all on our second plate we realised there was one missing - Mono's 2nd plate - so as it was too late to order another one the waitress told him to go and choose a sandwich or cake and it would be on the house. At this all the Peruvians got up en masse and came back laden with cakes and puddings. Even I had a free pudding! I couldn't stop laughing at the thought that if the word got round the following day the cafe would be taken over by Peruvians all enjoying free meals!!!
We got fed up with the meals on offer there after a few days though and exploring the town, finding different restaurants to eat at each day, was part of the fun each evening. We went to a few concerts - including one of Apu in one of the clubs. That was brilliant and when we went to a nightclub a few nights later where Coco Vega (of Apu) was playing with his 8 piece salsa band, I bumped into the bar-lady of that club who was there on her own and got up quite a few times to dance with her. On another occasion we went to a Colombian circus and at the Edinburgh Garden Party events we went to see Lady Salsa, where the history of Cuba was portrayed in music and dance. It was brilliant and afterwards the band kept playing, and we were able to dance. We went to lots of different salsa clubs in Edinburgh, sometimes taking in three in one night! By this time we were socialising with the members of Kantaro as well as Apu who were all tremendous fun to be with.
We spent five or six nights at the campsite. Even though we only went late at night to sleep we soon got fed up with camping! The facilities were good, excellent showers etc, but unfortunately the weather cracked up a bit while we were there and we got fed up with the muddy conditions. One night I parked a bit close to the tents, turned round, tripped over the guy-rope and fell flat on my face in the mud! I made a swift departure into my tent after Aquiles helped me up and ascertained I was okay, because I felt so embarrassed. Next day we were all falling about laughing as Aquiles said I reminded him of the frogs in Peru - I'd fallen as if I'd done a flying leap with my arms outstretched!!! Later that day when I bought some green trousers as I was fed up with my long skirts trailing in the mud, I had a new nickname - Kermit!! They admitted what a struggle they'd had not to laugh when it happened. Whilst at the campsite on one dry evening we did a barbecue on one of those throwaway afterward single use jobs, which was nice apart from me burning some of the meat. I was hysterical at the look of dismay on Aquiles face when he turned his over and saw how burned it was!!! We also had a late night takeaway snack another evening at a picnic bench which we dragged over to our tent. My tent hadn't been put up very securely and each day it looked more and more lopsided until on the day we took it down it looked ready to collapse anyway. Soggy wet towels pegged all over it (which got even wetter in all the rain) hadn't helped!!
Isaac said we could stay at his flat again and we ended up spending about a week there, which was okay apart from the long drive each way every day. Although on a few occasions we went in to Edinburgh on the train, which was a good regular service - Dunbar being the first stop on the Edinburgh to Kings Cross (London) route. For the last week of our stay we hired a flat in a house about two miles from the city centre. That was great as we also had the use of a kitchen, bathroom and small lounge. We did a bit of shopping and Aquiles cooked Peruvian dishes on a couple of occasions which was nice.
On the last day 2nd September, the festival was ending with a Grande Finale fireworks display from Edinburgh Castle and we found a good spot to watch it. It was the best fireworks display I'd ever seen in my life, with quarter of a million people watching. It seemed incredible that the wide main street usually choc-a-bloc with cars and buses was closed to traffic that night and became the biggest crowd of people I'd ever seen. The fireworks were choreographed to the loud classical music coming out of speakers and every time the music reached a crescendo so did the fireworks - it was so fantastic it brought goose bumps up on your arms. At one point there was a waterfall of fireworks coming down over the battlements. The crowd Oohed and Aahed and cheered and clapped throughout and the atmosphere was fantastic. After it finished I decided to get back to the flat to get some sleep as I had a long drive next day and wanted to be up at 5.30. It took until gone midnight to find a taxi. In the morning I heard the others come in and get into bed just seconds before my alarm call from Colin on my mobile. Poor Claire hardly had time to close her eyes. Once I'd showered and dressed, she helped me load the car and we woke Aquiles and led him to the car at the last minute so that he could carry on sleeping. She even put on his shoes!!! We hit the road at 7.30 am and had until 1 o-clock to get to Crewe. Colin was taking the train to Crewe to take over the last leg of the drive home. With three rest-stops, we hit the outskirts of Crewe just as Colin phoned to say he'd just arrived - we were surprised at how well that worked out!
At the station, Claire and Aquiles unloaded their equipment and took a direct train to London from there. I felt really sad saying my farewells to them but Aquiles said they'd be down within two weeks for a weekend. I managed to stay awake about 10 minutes for Colin and then woke up in Bristol. We managed to get a late Sunday lunch there and got home early evening. The boys were pleased to see me as I'd been away nearly a month.
All the following week I was missing them both so much and on Friday Claire phoned to say they were thinking of coming down Saturday night and I was overjoyed. When they arrived in Bath, Colin and I were at Las Iguanas and they had a drink with us while we finished our meal. We then headed back and I fed them there as once I knew they were definitely coming I'd cooked something for them in the afternoon. I helped them drink the wine Aquiles had brought me whilst they ate, and we were all really happy to be back together again! My boys were pleased to see them again too.
The next day I drove them into Bath and they set up their equipment to play opposite the Roman Baths. Colin had gone off for the day to an annual motor event with three of his friends and I'd arranged to meet Kathryn my sister for lunch in town, which was nice. We also did a bit of shopping and listened to Qosqo - plus an Ecuadorian band who were also playing nearby. Afterwards we loaded the car and took Kathryn home where we enjoyed some wine in her lovely garden. After that Aquiles, Claire and I went back to Las Iguanas for a meal before Claire caught the 9 pm train to London as she works there from Monday to Wednesday. Aquiles stayed behind with us, as by then I'd ascertained he had nowhere of his own to stay and Claire's flat-mates in London weren't too happy about him staying there indefinitely and he'd been feeling really uncomfortable there. Once I knew this I invited him to stay at our house for as long as he wanted and he was delighted - and so was I as he's such fun and fits in well. When I'd met them for the first time before going to Edinburgh he had only arrived from Peru the previous week!
Once I got home from work on Monday I cooked for us all and when the boys got home from work we all went to the village pub to play pool. On Tuesday Aquiles and I went to see the Moscow State Circus in Bath and afterwards had a meal at a Bangladeshi restaurant. Both Wednesday and Thursday we all played pool in the village pub again as all of us, including my boys, had an ongoing competition going to see who could win the most games and Claire rejoined us there on the Thursday. On Friday I went to a family wedding and was gone most of the day but when I got back in the evening we went to the village pub again. I'd got hold of some Peruvian recipes and made Lomo Saltado a couple of times, a dish which went down well with us all as we are all lovers of spicy food. That saturday I drove us to Cardiff where we had a nice day. The weather was warm and they did quite well with CD sales in the town. I spent a fair bit of the day sightseeing and discovered another Andean band who were really good and I listened to them for ages - a band called Alaya who are based in France - and bought two CDs.
After Qosqo finished playing we had to rush home as there was another party to go to, a follow-on from the previous days wedding and it was quite far to go. We had a lovely evening there and Aquiles and Claire were able to meet all my family. That Sunday my son Tristan helped sell their CDs while they played in Bath - I had to rush off as I needed a new tyre plus the house needed a clean-up, and by the time I got back to them they were packing up ready to go. We all went to Las Iguanas for a meal and from there to the Moscow State Circus to catch their last performance before moving on. We just made it too as apart from the big top it was all being dismantled when we got there!!! Claire then caught the train to London and Aquiles decided to stay on with us.
We didn't go out Monday night - we all felt the need for a restful evening in!!! - but on Tuesday I took him with me to the monthly dinner at my friends Debbie and David's house. They really enjoyed meeting him and hearing all about Peru and didn't want us to leave at the end of the evening! Claire arrived Wednesday evening as we'd planned to go ice-skating on the Thursday and what a fun evening that turned out to be. I dropped them at the railway station early both Thursday and Friday on my way to work. That Thursday they went to Newport in South Wales which was an easy train ride from Bristol. Then in the evening I met them at Bristol Railway station and we had time for something to eat first and went to a Thai restaurant and then to the ice-rink. At first Aquiles wouldn't skate but we managed to persuade him to try and we had a really funny time trying to keep him on his feet. Luckily he is a really good sport and doesn't mind us laughing when he falls! We were all hysterical every time we collapsed in heaps (Claire and me going down as well whilst trying to keep him on his feet). No one was hurt luckily! I love ice-skating and hope the chance to go again will come along soon.
Friday we spent quietly in as we wanted an early start next day. We went to Swansea in Wales. All during this period the petrol crisis was on and garages closed, but I managed to fill up in Bristol. The journey took two hours and on arrival, I parked for a couple of hours to look around the town before going off to see an old friend who lives there that I hadn't seen for 16 years. It was lovely to see her again, catch up on all news etc, and we went to Mumbles (by the sea) and enjoyed enormous icecream sundaes overlooking the sea, which was really active with yachts and wind-surfers having a good time. I rejoined Claire and Aquiles in the afternoon and once they packed up and stowed their equipment in the car, we walked around town a while and then had a huge meal at an Indian restaurant. Sunday it rained so they didn't go into Bath to play. We had a leisurely day in watching the Olympics on TV until their friend Oswaldo arrived late afternoon to give them a lift home as he was going to London himself. I was really sorry to say goodbye to them but they assured me they would be back to visit again soon.
Since then they came down to stay several times right up until Christmas - usually arriving on Thursday and going back to London on Sunday. On one occasion Aquiles' brother Carlos made a surprise visit from Switzerland to see him. We were in Newport at the time and we persuaded him to get a bus to Bath and that we'd meet him there in the early evening. He proved to be just as much fun as his brother and we had a brilliant night on the town together and Carlos treated us all to a meal at Las Iguanas and I put him up overnight as well, and they all returned to London the following evening. I went up to London and spent the weekend with them just prior to Aquiles' return to Peru in early January - two more stories follow on from that and I'm off to London again on 24/25 February for another fun weekend with several andean friends.
The best part of this fantastic new friendship is that during my forthcoming visit to Peru I will be staying with Aquiles' parents in Cusco. I fly to Peru in June, arriving at Lima in the early evening where I will be met by a friend and both of us will be staying overnight with her sister in Lima before travelling to her home in Ilo (South Peru) the following day, which is close to both Chilean and Bolivian borders. Three days later I will be travelling on to Bolivia and getting there will be an experience in itself as I want to take the little train that goes across the Andes mountains to La Paz which takes about 16 hours. In downtown La Paz I will enjoy a whole week of music and dancing at the Fiesta of Gran Poder, as well as meeting some well known musicians, before returning to South Peru for a further few days with my friends there and from there hope to see a bit of Arequipa as well as Arica (the Chilean/Peruvian border town). I will then return to Lima by bus and then take a flight up to Cusco for the remainder of the holiday. Whilst there I will be walking the Inca Trail which is a 28-mile hike (mostly uphill!!!) in the Andes to Machu Picchu and the Inca ruins. (This takes four days and involves camping on the trail at night). I'm looking forward to that more than anything. I also hope to go to the 3-day festival at Paucartambo which is similar to the one I'm attending in Bolivia. I can hardly wait to enjoy so much andean music and culture at first hand. I also hope to visit Puno which is near Lake Titicaca which is half in Peru and half in Bolivia!
I've been teaching myself Spanish with the help of a textbook - Suenos: World Spanish - and by translating and writing letters to my new penfriends in Southern Peru - I correspond with both husband and wife and I'm really looking forward to meeting them for the first time. Whilst with his family in Cusco, Aquiles said his Mum will teach me all I need to know about Peruvian cooking and that his dad being a teacher anyway will help me with my Spanish. He said I'll be welcomed in as part of the family so I'm really looking forward to it. And I'm hoping that several weeks of speaking nothing but Spanish will result in my being able to speak it pretty well by the time I get back. This will be very useful when interviewing South American musicians for my articles for AIMA.
After two nights at Isaac's flat we spent a night with Apu at the flat they had rented from a friend. This was right in Edinburgh city so we had a fantastic night out with them until around four in the morning. Salsa clubs are all the rage in Edinburgh and the one we went to that night with Apu was a really good one, with lovely music. However after one night with them, we decided not to impose further and went off the following evening to the campsite at Musselburgh, erected the tents and got ourselves organised. We only had small tents so they were just to sleep in. Every day we had takeaway breakfasts in the morning and something else for lunch, choosing a different restaurant to eat each evening. Ronal was returning to France two days later so he stayed on with Apu as my tent was too small for sharing. It didn't take me long to decide I liked Kantaro best out of all the Andean bands and I planned my whole day around their performances, watching the other bands in between, as well as touring the shops. On the 3rd day I found a brilliant internet cafe and was a regular visitor after that, keeping in touch by email with friends.
It didn't take us long to find a Sainsburys with cafe and we went there several times because of the 2 for the price of 1 meal offer. However, this time we all had 2 meals each, rather than trying to save money doubling up. We even spread the word a bit and some of the Peruvians and Bolivians found there way there too. It was really funny on one occasion. The tables weren't very big there and it was impossible to fit 16 plates on the 2 tables! Then as we were all on our second plate we realised there was one missing - Mono's 2nd plate - so as it was too late to order another one the waitress told him to go and choose a sandwich or cake and it would be on the house. At this all the Peruvians got up en masse and came back laden with cakes and puddings. Even I had a free pudding! I couldn't stop laughing at the thought that if the word got round the following day the cafe would be taken over by Peruvians all enjoying free meals!!!
We got fed up with the meals on offer there after a few days though and exploring the town, finding different restaurants to eat at each day, was part of the fun each evening. We went to a few concerts - including one of Apu in one of the clubs. That was brilliant and when we went to a nightclub a few nights later where Coco Vega (of Apu) was playing with his 8 piece salsa band, I bumped into the bar-lady of that club who was there on her own and got up quite a few times to dance with her. On another occasion we went to a Colombian circus and at the Edinburgh Garden Party events we went to see Lady Salsa, where the history of Cuba was portrayed in music and dance. It was brilliant and afterwards the band kept playing, and we were able to dance. We went to lots of different salsa clubs in Edinburgh, sometimes taking in three in one night! By this time we were socialising with the members of Kantaro as well as Apu who were all tremendous fun to be with.
We spent five or six nights at the campsite. Even though we only went late at night to sleep we soon got fed up with camping! The facilities were good, excellent showers etc, but unfortunately the weather cracked up a bit while we were there and we got fed up with the muddy conditions. One night I parked a bit close to the tents, turned round, tripped over the guy-rope and fell flat on my face in the mud! I made a swift departure into my tent after Aquiles helped me up and ascertained I was okay, because I felt so embarrassed. Next day we were all falling about laughing as Aquiles said I reminded him of the frogs in Peru - I'd fallen as if I'd done a flying leap with my arms outstretched!!! Later that day when I bought some green trousers as I was fed up with my long skirts trailing in the mud, I had a new nickname - Kermit!! They admitted what a struggle they'd had not to laugh when it happened. Whilst at the campsite on one dry evening we did a barbecue on one of those throwaway afterward single use jobs, which was nice apart from me burning some of the meat. I was hysterical at the look of dismay on Aquiles face when he turned his over and saw how burned it was!!! We also had a late night takeaway snack another evening at a picnic bench which we dragged over to our tent. My tent hadn't been put up very securely and each day it looked more and more lopsided until on the day we took it down it looked ready to collapse anyway. Soggy wet towels pegged all over it (which got even wetter in all the rain) hadn't helped!!
Isaac said we could stay at his flat again and we ended up spending about a week there, which was okay apart from the long drive each way every day. Although on a few occasions we went in to Edinburgh on the train, which was a good regular service - Dunbar being the first stop on the Edinburgh to Kings Cross (London) route. For the last week of our stay we hired a flat in a house about two miles from the city centre. That was great as we also had the use of a kitchen, bathroom and small lounge. We did a bit of shopping and Aquiles cooked Peruvian dishes on a couple of occasions which was nice.
On the last day 2nd September, the festival was ending with a Grande Finale fireworks display from Edinburgh Castle and we found a good spot to watch it. It was the best fireworks display I'd ever seen in my life, with quarter of a million people watching. It seemed incredible that the wide main street usually choc-a-bloc with cars and buses was closed to traffic that night and became the biggest crowd of people I'd ever seen. The fireworks were choreographed to the loud classical music coming out of speakers and every time the music reached a crescendo so did the fireworks - it was so fantastic it brought goose bumps up on your arms. At one point there was a waterfall of fireworks coming down over the battlements. The crowd Oohed and Aahed and cheered and clapped throughout and the atmosphere was fantastic. After it finished I decided to get back to the flat to get some sleep as I had a long drive next day and wanted to be up at 5.30. It took until gone midnight to find a taxi. In the morning I heard the others come in and get into bed just seconds before my alarm call from Colin on my mobile. Poor Claire hardly had time to close her eyes. Once I'd showered and dressed, she helped me load the car and we woke Aquiles and led him to the car at the last minute so that he could carry on sleeping. She even put on his shoes!!! We hit the road at 7.30 am and had until 1 o-clock to get to Crewe. Colin was taking the train to Crewe to take over the last leg of the drive home. With three rest-stops, we hit the outskirts of Crewe just as Colin phoned to say he'd just arrived - we were surprised at how well that worked out!
At the station, Claire and Aquiles unloaded their equipment and took a direct train to London from there. I felt really sad saying my farewells to them but Aquiles said they'd be down within two weeks for a weekend. I managed to stay awake about 10 minutes for Colin and then woke up in Bristol. We managed to get a late Sunday lunch there and got home early evening. The boys were pleased to see me as I'd been away nearly a month.
All the following week I was missing them both so much and on Friday Claire phoned to say they were thinking of coming down Saturday night and I was overjoyed. When they arrived in Bath, Colin and I were at Las Iguanas and they had a drink with us while we finished our meal. We then headed back and I fed them there as once I knew they were definitely coming I'd cooked something for them in the afternoon. I helped them drink the wine Aquiles had brought me whilst they ate, and we were all really happy to be back together again! My boys were pleased to see them again too.
The next day I drove them into Bath and they set up their equipment to play opposite the Roman Baths. Colin had gone off for the day to an annual motor event with three of his friends and I'd arranged to meet Kathryn my sister for lunch in town, which was nice. We also did a bit of shopping and listened to Qosqo - plus an Ecuadorian band who were also playing nearby. Afterwards we loaded the car and took Kathryn home where we enjoyed some wine in her lovely garden. After that Aquiles, Claire and I went back to Las Iguanas for a meal before Claire caught the 9 pm train to London as she works there from Monday to Wednesday. Aquiles stayed behind with us, as by then I'd ascertained he had nowhere of his own to stay and Claire's flat-mates in London weren't too happy about him staying there indefinitely and he'd been feeling really uncomfortable there. Once I knew this I invited him to stay at our house for as long as he wanted and he was delighted - and so was I as he's such fun and fits in well. When I'd met them for the first time before going to Edinburgh he had only arrived from Peru the previous week!
Once I got home from work on Monday I cooked for us all and when the boys got home from work we all went to the village pub to play pool. On Tuesday Aquiles and I went to see the Moscow State Circus in Bath and afterwards had a meal at a Bangladeshi restaurant. Both Wednesday and Thursday we all played pool in the village pub again as all of us, including my boys, had an ongoing competition going to see who could win the most games and Claire rejoined us there on the Thursday. On Friday I went to a family wedding and was gone most of the day but when I got back in the evening we went to the village pub again. I'd got hold of some Peruvian recipes and made Lomo Saltado a couple of times, a dish which went down well with us all as we are all lovers of spicy food. That saturday I drove us to Cardiff where we had a nice day. The weather was warm and they did quite well with CD sales in the town. I spent a fair bit of the day sightseeing and discovered another Andean band who were really good and I listened to them for ages - a band called Alaya who are based in France - and bought two CDs.
After Qosqo finished playing we had to rush home as there was another party to go to, a follow-on from the previous days wedding and it was quite far to go. We had a lovely evening there and Aquiles and Claire were able to meet all my family. That Sunday my son Tristan helped sell their CDs while they played in Bath - I had to rush off as I needed a new tyre plus the house needed a clean-up, and by the time I got back to them they were packing up ready to go. We all went to Las Iguanas for a meal and from there to the Moscow State Circus to catch their last performance before moving on. We just made it too as apart from the big top it was all being dismantled when we got there!!! Claire then caught the train to London and Aquiles decided to stay on with us.
We didn't go out Monday night - we all felt the need for a restful evening in!!! - but on Tuesday I took him with me to the monthly dinner at my friends Debbie and David's house. They really enjoyed meeting him and hearing all about Peru and didn't want us to leave at the end of the evening! Claire arrived Wednesday evening as we'd planned to go ice-skating on the Thursday and what a fun evening that turned out to be. I dropped them at the railway station early both Thursday and Friday on my way to work. That Thursday they went to Newport in South Wales which was an easy train ride from Bristol. Then in the evening I met them at Bristol Railway station and we had time for something to eat first and went to a Thai restaurant and then to the ice-rink. At first Aquiles wouldn't skate but we managed to persuade him to try and we had a really funny time trying to keep him on his feet. Luckily he is a really good sport and doesn't mind us laughing when he falls! We were all hysterical every time we collapsed in heaps (Claire and me going down as well whilst trying to keep him on his feet). No one was hurt luckily! I love ice-skating and hope the chance to go again will come along soon.
Friday we spent quietly in as we wanted an early start next day. We went to Swansea in Wales. All during this period the petrol crisis was on and garages closed, but I managed to fill up in Bristol. The journey took two hours and on arrival, I parked for a couple of hours to look around the town before going off to see an old friend who lives there that I hadn't seen for 16 years. It was lovely to see her again, catch up on all news etc, and we went to Mumbles (by the sea) and enjoyed enormous icecream sundaes overlooking the sea, which was really active with yachts and wind-surfers having a good time. I rejoined Claire and Aquiles in the afternoon and once they packed up and stowed their equipment in the car, we walked around town a while and then had a huge meal at an Indian restaurant. Sunday it rained so they didn't go into Bath to play. We had a leisurely day in watching the Olympics on TV until their friend Oswaldo arrived late afternoon to give them a lift home as he was going to London himself. I was really sorry to say goodbye to them but they assured me they would be back to visit again soon.
Since then they came down to stay several times right up until Christmas - usually arriving on Thursday and going back to London on Sunday. On one occasion Aquiles' brother Carlos made a surprise visit from Switzerland to see him. We were in Newport at the time and we persuaded him to get a bus to Bath and that we'd meet him there in the early evening. He proved to be just as much fun as his brother and we had a brilliant night on the town together and Carlos treated us all to a meal at Las Iguanas and I put him up overnight as well, and they all returned to London the following evening. I went up to London and spent the weekend with them just prior to Aquiles' return to Peru in early January - two more stories follow on from that and I'm off to London again on 24/25 February for another fun weekend with several andean friends.
The best part of this fantastic new friendship is that during my forthcoming visit to Peru I will be staying with Aquiles' parents in Cusco. I fly to Peru in June, arriving at Lima in the early evening where I will be met by a friend and both of us will be staying overnight with her sister in Lima before travelling to her home in Ilo (South Peru) the following day, which is close to both Chilean and Bolivian borders. Three days later I will be travelling on to Bolivia and getting there will be an experience in itself as I want to take the little train that goes across the Andes mountains to La Paz which takes about 16 hours. In downtown La Paz I will enjoy a whole week of music and dancing at the Fiesta of Gran Poder, as well as meeting some well known musicians, before returning to South Peru for a further few days with my friends there and from there hope to see a bit of Arequipa as well as Arica (the Chilean/Peruvian border town). I will then return to Lima by bus and then take a flight up to Cusco for the remainder of the holiday. Whilst there I will be walking the Inca Trail which is a 28-mile hike (mostly uphill!!!) in the Andes to Machu Picchu and the Inca ruins. (This takes four days and involves camping on the trail at night). I'm looking forward to that more than anything. I also hope to go to the 3-day festival at Paucartambo which is similar to the one I'm attending in Bolivia. I can hardly wait to enjoy so much andean music and culture at first hand. I also hope to visit Puno which is near Lake Titicaca which is half in Peru and half in Bolivia!
I've been teaching myself Spanish with the help of a textbook - Suenos: World Spanish - and by translating and writing letters to my new penfriends in Southern Peru - I correspond with both husband and wife and I'm really looking forward to meeting them for the first time. Whilst with his family in Cusco, Aquiles said his Mum will teach me all I need to know about Peruvian cooking and that his dad being a teacher anyway will help me with my Spanish. He said I'll be welcomed in as part of the family so I'm really looking forward to it. And I'm hoping that several weeks of speaking nothing but Spanish will result in my being able to speak it pretty well by the time I get back. This will be very useful when interviewing South American musicians for my articles for AIMA.
Sunday, August 13, 2000
Sunday 13th August.
As it happened they had just set up their instruments next morning when it started to rain, so we decided to start our next leg of the journey North. We decided we'd try to get as far as Carlisle. Only 40 miles into the journey I was sleepy again and we had to stop at a service area where we had lunch. Again, it was impossible for the two cars to stay together but I was wide awake after the meal and made such good progress that when we reached Carlisle I decided to carry on and make Edinburgh the same day. In fact I made such good progress that I reached Edinburgh slightly in front of the other car - much to the amazement of both Ronal and Aquiles. It helped having a good navigator alongside - Claire kept me awake and on track from Carlisle to Edinburgh as the M6 ended at Carlisle.
We reached Edinburgh in the early evening and I was so excited to arrive. It didn't take Aquiles long to bump into a friend of his - Isaac - who promptly said we could stay at his flat that night. He also said he'd take us to a good concert taking place that evening at St Mark's Church. This was by a Bolivian band called Kantaro and I enjoyed their concert immensely. I was especially pleased when Aquiles told me they would also be playing in the streets every day and resolved there and then to catch as many of their sets as I possibly could! After the concert we all went to a pub for a few drinks. Then drove to Dunbar, about 28 miles outside Edinburgh, to Isaac's place. Dunbar proved to be a nice little seaside town. We stayed with Isaac a couple of nights and after that decided to utilise our tents and sleeping bags and found a nice campsite seven miles outside Edinburgh at Musselburgh - another nice seaside resort. We resolved to go there after playing that second day.
We reached Edinburgh in the early evening and I was so excited to arrive. It didn't take Aquiles long to bump into a friend of his - Isaac - who promptly said we could stay at his flat that night. He also said he'd take us to a good concert taking place that evening at St Mark's Church. This was by a Bolivian band called Kantaro and I enjoyed their concert immensely. I was especially pleased when Aquiles told me they would also be playing in the streets every day and resolved there and then to catch as many of their sets as I possibly could! After the concert we all went to a pub for a few drinks. Then drove to Dunbar, about 28 miles outside Edinburgh, to Isaac's place. Dunbar proved to be a nice little seaside town. We stayed with Isaac a couple of nights and after that decided to utilise our tents and sleeping bags and found a nice campsite seven miles outside Edinburgh at Musselburgh - another nice seaside resort. We resolved to go there after playing that second day.
Thursday, August 10, 2000
Thursday 10th August.
Next morning, Ellie sent us on our way with a good breakfast and we exchanged addresses to keep in touch. We went to Liverpool and the band set up their instruments right in the centre of the town. I sat listening for a while but then spent a good part of the day sightseeing and was really impressed what a lovely place it is. I wouldn't have minded taking the ferry across the Mersey but by the time I decided to go there and then found I'd just missed one with an hour to wait, I knew I wouldn't have time before the band would finish. I decided to keep that pleasure for a future visit.
After we'd loaded the equipment in the cars we went off to look for a place to eat and en route found Blacks the camping shop and went in as I needed a sleeping bag and so did Aquiles. I bought a brilliant 4-season one ready for the Inca Trail in Peru. We then found a nice Chinese restaurant and all had Duck Noodle soups (which are enormous main course size bowls). From there we drove to Chester as we were staying the next two nights with Claire's parents who live there. Her Father is a Dean at the Cathedral and their house being enormous we had the whole top floor with our own sitting room and bathroom. Claire's Mum had recently bought a micro scooter so we borrowed it and had a lot of fun in the streets of Chester taking turns to ride on it!!! We then went for a few drinks at the pub before going back to the house and watching a film on TV.
Next day we went to Birkenhead but as there weren't very many people in the shopping area, we later headed back into Liverpool for them to play there. I loved being there again and really enjoyed walking round the whole time they were playing. Although I got lost when I went to get the car to load up with equipment afterwards. Thank goodness for mobile phones - Aquiles came to my rescue! That evening we had a meal in a pub at Chester so as not to impose on Claire's parents who were going to the theatre that evening, and they decided they would actually play in Chester town centre the following day
After we'd loaded the equipment in the cars we went off to look for a place to eat and en route found Blacks the camping shop and went in as I needed a sleeping bag and so did Aquiles. I bought a brilliant 4-season one ready for the Inca Trail in Peru. We then found a nice Chinese restaurant and all had Duck Noodle soups (which are enormous main course size bowls). From there we drove to Chester as we were staying the next two nights with Claire's parents who live there. Her Father is a Dean at the Cathedral and their house being enormous we had the whole top floor with our own sitting room and bathroom. Claire's Mum had recently bought a micro scooter so we borrowed it and had a lot of fun in the streets of Chester taking turns to ride on it!!! We then went for a few drinks at the pub before going back to the house and watching a film on TV.
Next day we went to Birkenhead but as there weren't very many people in the shopping area, we later headed back into Liverpool for them to play there. I loved being there again and really enjoyed walking round the whole time they were playing. Although I got lost when I went to get the car to load up with equipment afterwards. Thank goodness for mobile phones - Aquiles came to my rescue! That evening we had a meal in a pub at Chester so as not to impose on Claire's parents who were going to the theatre that evening, and they decided they would actually play in Chester town centre the following day
Wednesday, August 09, 2000
Wednesday 9th August.
We were up early, loaded up the two cars and decided to head for Cheltenham for the first part of the journey. I didn't have to worry about finding my way because I followed Ronal, who found his way okay with the help of Claire navigating and a map. We got to Cheltenham okay, unloaded the equipment in the centre of the shopping area, then Ronal and I went off to park the cars. They'd found a spot with benches so that I would have a comfortable spot to listen to them. It was a fine day and I enjoyed myself. I listened to them playing and now and again went walking around the town. It was lovely. Late afternoon we loaded up the cars and looked for a place to eat. We ended up at Sainsburys because they were doing a 2 for price of 1 meal offer in their cafeteria, so the four of us had a meal for under £10. Then we started the next leg of our journey which ended up being a real nightmare. They were playing at Southport International Music festival next day so we had no choice but had to travel that far in one go. It's probably just as well I didn't know that earlier otherwise I wouldn't have enjoyed our time at Cheltenham quite so much!!!
Following Ronal's car was okay until we hit the M5 motorway. Then because of the fast traffic and the amount of cars it was impossible to stay together. Claire was travelling with Ronal and I had Aquiles with me but he was useless as a navigator as he fell asleep almost as soon as we left Cheltenham! I would have been okay except that when we got to Birmingham, the M5 went in two directions and I had to make a split second decision which to take - unfortunately I chose wrong which meant I ended up doing 200 extra unnecessary miles! I tried to nudge Aquiles awake but couldn't do so in time and when I said I may have made a mistake he said "you'll probably be okay" and carried on sleeping!!!! He regretted that later when he realised the extent of my mistake.
We kept going and I couldn't understand why I couldn't find the M6. We ended up at Nottingham, and by this time Aquiles was awake and realised how badly we'd gone wrong. We stopped at a Services and he went into the shop to look at a map and he said we had to drive towards Leicester and hopefully would find the M6. Meanwhile we'd been communicating with Claire in the other car via our mobile phones. They suggested we go back to Birmingham but we were both reluctant to do that as it was quite far and I wasn't convinced I'd get it right even then! We drove all the way to Leicester without finding the M6 and by this time Claire and Ronal had already arrived at Southport. We stopped and bought a map and found our way eventually to the M6 but still had a long way to go to get to Southport. Once on the M6 it was easier, but traffic was phenomenally heavy and as it started to get dark my eyes were really strained, because all the red lights were blurring and there were so many lorries. If I thought that was bad it got worse when it started to rain. From Stoke on Trent to Southport it was a nightmare - the red lights blurred even more in the rain, and we were surrounded by big lorries front, rear and side, all doing 80 miles an hour and only yards apart. I never thought we'd get there in one piece. Even Aquiles was worried and managed to stay awake. He kept me awake and watchful by telling me all about his family in Peru.
We finally reached Southport at midnight and found our way to Claire and Ronal by a series of calls via our mobiles. That night we stayed with a Chilean family, friends of Aquiles - Claire and me in an upstairs bedroom, Aquiles and Ronal on their lounge floor! Next day we decided to find a cafe for breakfast rather than impose on the Chileans who we'd kept awake by being so late the night before, and found one called The Lemon Tree, offering excellent breakfasts. Aquiles chose what sounded like an enormous plater - with steak, gammon steak, black pudding, bacon, sausages, chips, peas and egg for £3.75. When it came we all collapsed laughing as it was a small plate and the steak pieces only one mouthful in size.
We then had a quick look around the town - a lovely seaside town - before making our way to the festival stage and organisers for them to do their sound-checking. As a member of the band, so to speak, I was allowed in the backstage area and even issued with a voucher like them to get free soft drinks and coffee in a nearby bar! We watched all the events that day and when Qosqo did their set on stage, I had a brilliant view just a few yards from the stage, having taken on the role of band photographer and took several photos of them on two cameras. Afterwards we watched the other events and during the course of the afternoon got chatting to two of the dancers - Ellie from Puerto Rico and Maria from Colombia - and Ellie invited us all back to stay at her place for the night.
When the festival was over we piled into our cars and followed her back to her house. We were all drinking and having a laugh in her conservatory when her husband came home but luckily he didn't mind. We all went to a nearby Chinese takeaway and got meals which we took back to the house to eat. Then eight of us piled into Ellie and her husband's cars and they drove us all into Preston where we went to the Caliente Club. We got there just in time for the beginners salsa class which I joined in and thoroughly enjoyed. Afterwards was a general dance to Latin music and it was a most enjoyable evening. We got back to the house around midnight and being such a large house they could easily put up four extra with no problem. I had a very comfortable sofa in an upstairs sitting room.
Following Ronal's car was okay until we hit the M5 motorway. Then because of the fast traffic and the amount of cars it was impossible to stay together. Claire was travelling with Ronal and I had Aquiles with me but he was useless as a navigator as he fell asleep almost as soon as we left Cheltenham! I would have been okay except that when we got to Birmingham, the M5 went in two directions and I had to make a split second decision which to take - unfortunately I chose wrong which meant I ended up doing 200 extra unnecessary miles! I tried to nudge Aquiles awake but couldn't do so in time and when I said I may have made a mistake he said "you'll probably be okay" and carried on sleeping!!!! He regretted that later when he realised the extent of my mistake.
We kept going and I couldn't understand why I couldn't find the M6. We ended up at Nottingham, and by this time Aquiles was awake and realised how badly we'd gone wrong. We stopped at a Services and he went into the shop to look at a map and he said we had to drive towards Leicester and hopefully would find the M6. Meanwhile we'd been communicating with Claire in the other car via our mobile phones. They suggested we go back to Birmingham but we were both reluctant to do that as it was quite far and I wasn't convinced I'd get it right even then! We drove all the way to Leicester without finding the M6 and by this time Claire and Ronal had already arrived at Southport. We stopped and bought a map and found our way eventually to the M6 but still had a long way to go to get to Southport. Once on the M6 it was easier, but traffic was phenomenally heavy and as it started to get dark my eyes were really strained, because all the red lights were blurring and there were so many lorries. If I thought that was bad it got worse when it started to rain. From Stoke on Trent to Southport it was a nightmare - the red lights blurred even more in the rain, and we were surrounded by big lorries front, rear and side, all doing 80 miles an hour and only yards apart. I never thought we'd get there in one piece. Even Aquiles was worried and managed to stay awake. He kept me awake and watchful by telling me all about his family in Peru.
We finally reached Southport at midnight and found our way to Claire and Ronal by a series of calls via our mobiles. That night we stayed with a Chilean family, friends of Aquiles - Claire and me in an upstairs bedroom, Aquiles and Ronal on their lounge floor! Next day we decided to find a cafe for breakfast rather than impose on the Chileans who we'd kept awake by being so late the night before, and found one called The Lemon Tree, offering excellent breakfasts. Aquiles chose what sounded like an enormous plater - with steak, gammon steak, black pudding, bacon, sausages, chips, peas and egg for £3.75. When it came we all collapsed laughing as it was a small plate and the steak pieces only one mouthful in size.
We then had a quick look around the town - a lovely seaside town - before making our way to the festival stage and organisers for them to do their sound-checking. As a member of the band, so to speak, I was allowed in the backstage area and even issued with a voucher like them to get free soft drinks and coffee in a nearby bar! We watched all the events that day and when Qosqo did their set on stage, I had a brilliant view just a few yards from the stage, having taken on the role of band photographer and took several photos of them on two cameras. Afterwards we watched the other events and during the course of the afternoon got chatting to two of the dancers - Ellie from Puerto Rico and Maria from Colombia - and Ellie invited us all back to stay at her place for the night.
When the festival was over we piled into our cars and followed her back to her house. We were all drinking and having a laugh in her conservatory when her husband came home but luckily he didn't mind. We all went to a nearby Chinese takeaway and got meals which we took back to the house to eat. Then eight of us piled into Ellie and her husband's cars and they drove us all into Preston where we went to the Caliente Club. We got there just in time for the beginners salsa class which I joined in and thoroughly enjoyed. Afterwards was a general dance to Latin music and it was a most enjoyable evening. We got back to the house around midnight and being such a large house they could easily put up four extra with no problem. I had a very comfortable sofa in an upstairs sitting room.
Tuesday, August 08, 2000
Tuesday 8th August.
The band set off for Oxford. This time I didn't accompany them because I had so much to do. By this time the band had asked if I'd like to go with them to Edinburgh Festival, and I desperately wanted to go, but had to ask Colin first as there was no way I could go without his help, keeping an eye on the boys, feeding the birds, making sure the boys looked after the dog okay. I'd arranged for the band to come back at 10 pm when I'd have a meal ready, so with Colin coming back that day as well I had a hectic day ahead. I cleaned the house, went shopping and met Colin at lunchtime for lunch and drinks.
When he'd finally told me everything about his experiences in America, I then told him about mine, ending with the news about my impending departure to Edinburgh and luckily he knew and understood how badly I wanted to go and agreed to keep a watchful eye on the boys whilst I was away. He even gave me some money to help with expenses. I was so excited. Back at the house I cooked for the evening, arranged breakdown cover for the car, went to Slimming World and discovered I'd lost five pounds that week, and was thrilled to inform them whilst we had our evening meal that I was able to accompany them to Edinburgh and they were really pleased about that. I then had to get busy packing as we were leaving next day - luckily I managed to find the tent without any difficulty.
When he'd finally told me everything about his experiences in America, I then told him about mine, ending with the news about my impending departure to Edinburgh and luckily he knew and understood how badly I wanted to go and agreed to keep a watchful eye on the boys whilst I was away. He even gave me some money to help with expenses. I was so excited. Back at the house I cooked for the evening, arranged breakdown cover for the car, went to Slimming World and discovered I'd lost five pounds that week, and was thrilled to inform them whilst we had our evening meal that I was able to accompany them to Edinburgh and they were really pleased about that. I then had to get busy packing as we were leaving next day - luckily I managed to find the tent without any difficulty.
Friday, August 04, 2000
Saturday 4th August.
We were up early and caught an early train back to Bath. On arrival at Bath I needed to go to the bank to get some money, so left Kathryn at the station and set off. Suddenly I saw some instruments set up and a set of panpipes on the side and came to a skidding halt. I spoke to the young girl - Claire - and bought their Tropical Music from South America CD. On my way back past after visiting the bank, I saw another member of the band with her - who was obviously Peruvian! - stopped to chat and bought a further three CDs. During the course of conversation, having ascertained that they were close friends of Dante, I asked if they had anywhere to stay and they said no, not yet, so I invited them to stay at my house. I then had to dash but told them I'd be back a few hours later to hear them play and show them the way to my house.
Sure enough, later in the afternoon I went back, and saw that there were three of them - Aquiles on panpipes - Claire on electric violin - and Ronal on flute and/or panpipes. I really enjoyed their music which was unusual with Claire's violin added to the Andean equation. In the early evening they packed up their instruments and they followed my car back to my place. I rushed around and cooked a meal, which we enjoyed in the garden along with some of my Andean music CDs and a few bottles of wine. With Colin still away, I was really glad of their company and we all got on like a house on fire and had a wonderful evening. Next morning they went into Bath to play again and I said I'd join up with them later.
I drove in during the afternoon and listened to them for a few hours. Whilst there I met a Bolivian friend of theirs - Ruben Cordero - who proved to be a good contact as he promised to help me get some CDs by Awatinas that I'd been unable to find anywhere - he said he could get them direct from Bolivia for me. I was thrilled about that. I had to rush off early evening as I was going out with my sister Kathryn and her husband to attend our nephew's fiance's 18th birthday party. I gave Aquiles a key and said I'd see them later.
The party was great - all my family were there - and I had a wonderful time dancing all evening with my nephews. I didn't get home until nearly 1 am - to an empty house! Not for long though. Claire, Ronal and Aquiles had taken my boys Adam and Tristan over to Bristol, for a night at pubs and clubs and they'd all had a wonderful time. As their mood was so festive, I got some more wine out and put on the music and we were up best part of the night, really enjoying ourselves, even dancing. Gradually we were crashing out one by one - I tried to stay up all night as I had to wake Tristan up for work at 6 am. I succeeded with difficulty, which proved a waste of time as he only went to work for an hour or so and then came back again! I woke Claire, Aquiles and Ronal up at 9 am as they'd planned to go to Oxford to play. As it happened by the time they all had showers and breakfast it was too late to go so far and they decided to go to Cheltenham instead and they invited me to go with them.
Despite being really tired I couldn't resist going and we set off in two cars. On approaching Whitchurch in Bristol we hit an enormous traffic jam, tried to avoid it by going cross country and ended up doing a vast detour and arrived back in Bristol again. So at my suggestion (they'd not been there before) we decided to go to Weston-Super-Mare instead. On arrival there we parked in the carpark at the Royal Hotel, loaded up the two trolleys and trundled the equipment through to the shopping centre. It wasn't until that moment that they realised they'd left the microphone stands back at my house so had to improvise. They ended up tying the mic to a thin tree. Ronal tied it on with the red cord used to secure the equipment on the trolleys. He tied it on with a big bow so consequently every time I saw him playing flute or panpipes into it I fell about laughing and he could hardly play where he wanted to laugh as well.
It was a lovely hot day and I found that I was struggling to stay awake! In the end I went to the grassed area behind them where people were sunbathing, sat down leaning against a tree and managed to sleep like that for a couple of hours which was enough to revive me. Later in the afternoon we loaded the equipment back into the two cars and went for a drink in the hotel. Then walked along the seafront looking for a place to eat and all had roast dinners at a cafe which was a laugh in itself as the veg were disgustingly overcooked and the whole dinner quite a disappointment - I was hysterical at the expression on Aquiles' face when he saw the bright blue-green mushy peas on his plate!
We then had a couple of games of pool in a nearby pub and then set off back home as we were going to the Bell Inn at Bath that evening to see Ruben in his new Latin jazz band's (K'Chevere) debut performance. We got lost on the way out of town so by the time we got to my place it was just a five minute stopover and then a mad dash to Bath. We got to the pub just in time for the start of the show and were lucky to get a table to sit at. During the second half Claire got up and did a few numbers on her violin with the band, and her unusual and innovative style of playing went down a storm at the pub. Everyone loved her and the band actually show-cased her talent. Aquiles looked so proud of her! Ronal got up and played his flute in the last two numbers but we couldn't persuade Aquiles to get up with his panpipes! It was a truly wonderful evening and even when it was over, friends of the band were invited to stay behind for more drinks. I enjoyed that, especially meeting Ruben's lovely sister who told me she was planning a big South American barbecue complete with Andean musicians, games, fireworks, authentic Andean food etc, and that she would send me an invitation.
Sure enough, later in the afternoon I went back, and saw that there were three of them - Aquiles on panpipes - Claire on electric violin - and Ronal on flute and/or panpipes. I really enjoyed their music which was unusual with Claire's violin added to the Andean equation. In the early evening they packed up their instruments and they followed my car back to my place. I rushed around and cooked a meal, which we enjoyed in the garden along with some of my Andean music CDs and a few bottles of wine. With Colin still away, I was really glad of their company and we all got on like a house on fire and had a wonderful evening. Next morning they went into Bath to play again and I said I'd join up with them later.
I drove in during the afternoon and listened to them for a few hours. Whilst there I met a Bolivian friend of theirs - Ruben Cordero - who proved to be a good contact as he promised to help me get some CDs by Awatinas that I'd been unable to find anywhere - he said he could get them direct from Bolivia for me. I was thrilled about that. I had to rush off early evening as I was going out with my sister Kathryn and her husband to attend our nephew's fiance's 18th birthday party. I gave Aquiles a key and said I'd see them later.
The party was great - all my family were there - and I had a wonderful time dancing all evening with my nephews. I didn't get home until nearly 1 am - to an empty house! Not for long though. Claire, Ronal and Aquiles had taken my boys Adam and Tristan over to Bristol, for a night at pubs and clubs and they'd all had a wonderful time. As their mood was so festive, I got some more wine out and put on the music and we were up best part of the night, really enjoying ourselves, even dancing. Gradually we were crashing out one by one - I tried to stay up all night as I had to wake Tristan up for work at 6 am. I succeeded with difficulty, which proved a waste of time as he only went to work for an hour or so and then came back again! I woke Claire, Aquiles and Ronal up at 9 am as they'd planned to go to Oxford to play. As it happened by the time they all had showers and breakfast it was too late to go so far and they decided to go to Cheltenham instead and they invited me to go with them.
Despite being really tired I couldn't resist going and we set off in two cars. On approaching Whitchurch in Bristol we hit an enormous traffic jam, tried to avoid it by going cross country and ended up doing a vast detour and arrived back in Bristol again. So at my suggestion (they'd not been there before) we decided to go to Weston-Super-Mare instead. On arrival there we parked in the carpark at the Royal Hotel, loaded up the two trolleys and trundled the equipment through to the shopping centre. It wasn't until that moment that they realised they'd left the microphone stands back at my house so had to improvise. They ended up tying the mic to a thin tree. Ronal tied it on with the red cord used to secure the equipment on the trolleys. He tied it on with a big bow so consequently every time I saw him playing flute or panpipes into it I fell about laughing and he could hardly play where he wanted to laugh as well.
It was a lovely hot day and I found that I was struggling to stay awake! In the end I went to the grassed area behind them where people were sunbathing, sat down leaning against a tree and managed to sleep like that for a couple of hours which was enough to revive me. Later in the afternoon we loaded the equipment back into the two cars and went for a drink in the hotel. Then walked along the seafront looking for a place to eat and all had roast dinners at a cafe which was a laugh in itself as the veg were disgustingly overcooked and the whole dinner quite a disappointment - I was hysterical at the expression on Aquiles' face when he saw the bright blue-green mushy peas on his plate!
We then had a couple of games of pool in a nearby pub and then set off back home as we were going to the Bell Inn at Bath that evening to see Ruben in his new Latin jazz band's (K'Chevere) debut performance. We got lost on the way out of town so by the time we got to my place it was just a five minute stopover and then a mad dash to Bath. We got to the pub just in time for the start of the show and were lucky to get a table to sit at. During the second half Claire got up and did a few numbers on her violin with the band, and her unusual and innovative style of playing went down a storm at the pub. Everyone loved her and the band actually show-cased her talent. Aquiles looked so proud of her! Ronal got up and played his flute in the last two numbers but we couldn't persuade Aquiles to get up with his panpipes! It was a truly wonderful evening and even when it was over, friends of the band were invited to stay behind for more drinks. I enjoyed that, especially meeting Ruben's lovely sister who told me she was planning a big South American barbecue complete with Andean musicians, games, fireworks, authentic Andean food etc, and that she would send me an invitation.
Monday, July 31, 2000
The Weekend of 29-31 July.
This was one I'd been looking forward to for ages as it was Andean related. I'd booked three single train tickets on a round trip of Bath to London, London to Birmingham and Birmingham to Bristol. Rather than leave the car parked in Bath all weekend I took the bus from Timsbury to Bath. On arrival there I had time to kill before my train, was en route to my favourite Latin American craft shop (Tumi) when suddenly I heard panpipes. I knew the regular Andean musicians were in Ireland so hurried to see who it was! I was delighted to see the band were Kausary who I'd not met before but whose first CD I have, and I had a nice chat with Johnny Rodrigues the band leader and we exchanged phone numbers so that he could let me know whenever they were coming to Bath. I bought a cassette to listen to during the journey and went to catch my train. However, I was disappointed when my cassette player started playing up before the end of the first song and resolved to buy another personal CD player whilst in London (the one that had caught my eye at MacDonaldsons in Oxford Street the previous Sunday when Colin and I had gone to the Fiesta in the Park arranged by Cuba Solidarity).
I reached Camden Centre in good time for Contigo Peru - a big Fiesta to mark the 179th anniversary of Peru's independence - and being one of the first in I had a choice of places to sit and noticed two English women on a table near the stage and sat at their table. Once they realised I was there alone they introduced themselves and I thoroughly enjoyed the whole evening with them. They were Carolle and her son's fiance Margo, and her son Angus joined us a bit later and was equally nice. We had a fantastic Peruvian meal and Peruvian beers throughout the evening. There was wonderful cabaret - troupes of dancers in traditional costume - I especially enjoyed the little boys in their knitted hats and embroidered suits and the chap doing his famous Scissors dance. The music for dancing was provided by two bands who each did two sets - Apu, one of the best Andean bands in Europe - and Septeto Familia - a huge 11-piece salsa band. Margo and I danced through both sets of Apu as well as most of the last set by Septeto Familia.
Throughout the evening I enjoyed meeting up with and chatting to various Peruvian friends - Dante who is the first Peruvian I ever met - Carlos Saldana with his wife Suzanne and adorable baby Tupay, the other members of Amaru III, and Edwin's nephew who danced one dance with me. At the end of the evening at 1 o clock whilst saying goodbye to Dante, Angus came over and said they would give me a lift to Whitechapel where I was staying the night with Labu (my ex husband) and his wife. I thought this was very kind of them as I had been a bit worried about getting a cab on my own late at night! It didn't take long to get to Whitechapel. Angus and his Mum took me there, Margo staying behind with the band Apu who were staying overnight at their flat. I made up my mind there and then that if they could accommodate travelling Peruvian musicians I could do the same and resolved I would do so in future! A decision which led to a lot of fun later.
On arrival at Labu's flat it was nice to see them again as it was a year since I'd last visited them and we had lots of news to catch up on. Next morning Rekah took me around the famous nearby flea market which was fun. I left them around lunchtime as I wanted to visit Oxford Street before taking the 4.30 train to Birmingham. I bought the personal CD player and also a couple of new Andean CDs to go in it.
On arrival at Birmingham, Lil met me at the station and we found a nice cafe for coffee and cakes before making our way to Adrian Boult Hall for the Colombian ballet that evening. In the foyer they were selling Andean crafts and I bought yet more earrings to add to my fast growing collection of Peruvian earrings. Also I was delighted to bump into Carlos Munoz (of the Andean band Caliche) who was with his wife and daughter in the foyer before we went into the theatre for the show.
Lil and I thoroughly enjoyed the wonderful ballet, which was the first visit by the National Folkloric Ballet of Colombia, and one of only two performances during that first visit to the UK. It was worth going just for the music alone - performed by eight musicians, but the 20 dancers who performed stories in dance, and their frequent changes of beautiful costumes were absolutely brilliant. We enjoyed ourselves immensely. Afterwards we had one last drink in the bar and I went back with Lil and stayed overnight at her house at West Bromwich. Next day after breakfast we took a bus back to Birmingham and did a tour of shops before I caught the noon train to Bristol. My son Justin met me at the station there and took me home, where I then had to get busy because I had friends coming over for a meal that evening.
A couple of days later my sister came over for lunch and whilst we were relaxing in the garden afterwards I said how much I regretted not being able to go to Sidmouth International Music festival and she said "Why don't we go?" I was delighted and amazed because she normally needs at least a week to contemplate whizzing off like that. With no more ado I was on the phone enquiring about train times etc, and the following morning we caught the 7.30 am train from Bath and two trains and a bus later arrived at Sidmouth at 10.45 - a day early!
We walked around the town, the shops, etc and were pleased to find out that some bands would be doing a taster session of half an hour each that evening in the Market Square and that Dante's band, Amaru III, who we'd come all that way to see, were one of them. Sure enough we made our way early to the Market Square to get a good view of the performances. I hadn't had time to let Dante know we'd be there, and he saw me in the square before I saw him and was amazed to see us there. We enjoyed the various performances - especially Amaru III's set - and afterwards with the four members of Amaru III (Dante, Marcos, Carlos and Kieffer), went to the nearby pub and sat at tables outside and had a wonderful time with them. Dante lives in London so I don't get to see him very often, which is a shame because he is such fun. We keep in touch with letters or phone calls. After a while the members of the band were improvising with their instruments, and a young girl singer joined in and everyone within earshot enjoyed a lovely impromptu performance, especially Kathryn and me. It was really wonderful. We'd planned to stay two nights at Sidmouth and the next day we saw the members of Amaru III at the same pub we'd been to the night before and had a drink with them. The band then had to disappear to the arena for sound checking, as they were the finale act of the Family Premier Show that afternoon.
Kathryn and I made our way there in good time and joined the queue early as I wanted good seats and a good view of their performance. It was worth the wait as we had front row seats. The show began with various song, exotic drum and dance acts which were okay but we were dying to see Amaru III's performance and when it started we enjoyed their show tremendously. After it finished Marco said to come backstage as they could give us a lift back to town once they'd loaded up their equipment. We had a good laugh and joke with them and in the process saw the proofs of photos taken by a photographer and I promptly ordered one of Dante on his panpipes and one of the whole band. Then the video was being shown on screen and Amaru III looked so good on screen that I ordered a copy of that as well!
The band gave us a lift to town and when we piled out at the pub Kathryn and I were thrilled to realise that Amaru III were doing another performance there. A makeshift stage had been erected with scaffolding bars, and the rear carpark was ringed with tables and benches. These soon filled with families and we had a wonderful time. The band played all evening with just one short break, people were up dancing and the whole atmosphere was really magic. All in all it had been well worth the effort of going to Sidmouth to see so much of such a brilliant band.
I reached Camden Centre in good time for Contigo Peru - a big Fiesta to mark the 179th anniversary of Peru's independence - and being one of the first in I had a choice of places to sit and noticed two English women on a table near the stage and sat at their table. Once they realised I was there alone they introduced themselves and I thoroughly enjoyed the whole evening with them. They were Carolle and her son's fiance Margo, and her son Angus joined us a bit later and was equally nice. We had a fantastic Peruvian meal and Peruvian beers throughout the evening. There was wonderful cabaret - troupes of dancers in traditional costume - I especially enjoyed the little boys in their knitted hats and embroidered suits and the chap doing his famous Scissors dance. The music for dancing was provided by two bands who each did two sets - Apu, one of the best Andean bands in Europe - and Septeto Familia - a huge 11-piece salsa band. Margo and I danced through both sets of Apu as well as most of the last set by Septeto Familia.
Throughout the evening I enjoyed meeting up with and chatting to various Peruvian friends - Dante who is the first Peruvian I ever met - Carlos Saldana with his wife Suzanne and adorable baby Tupay, the other members of Amaru III, and Edwin's nephew who danced one dance with me. At the end of the evening at 1 o clock whilst saying goodbye to Dante, Angus came over and said they would give me a lift to Whitechapel where I was staying the night with Labu (my ex husband) and his wife. I thought this was very kind of them as I had been a bit worried about getting a cab on my own late at night! It didn't take long to get to Whitechapel. Angus and his Mum took me there, Margo staying behind with the band Apu who were staying overnight at their flat. I made up my mind there and then that if they could accommodate travelling Peruvian musicians I could do the same and resolved I would do so in future! A decision which led to a lot of fun later.
On arrival at Labu's flat it was nice to see them again as it was a year since I'd last visited them and we had lots of news to catch up on. Next morning Rekah took me around the famous nearby flea market which was fun. I left them around lunchtime as I wanted to visit Oxford Street before taking the 4.30 train to Birmingham. I bought the personal CD player and also a couple of new Andean CDs to go in it.
On arrival at Birmingham, Lil met me at the station and we found a nice cafe for coffee and cakes before making our way to Adrian Boult Hall for the Colombian ballet that evening. In the foyer they were selling Andean crafts and I bought yet more earrings to add to my fast growing collection of Peruvian earrings. Also I was delighted to bump into Carlos Munoz (of the Andean band Caliche) who was with his wife and daughter in the foyer before we went into the theatre for the show.
Lil and I thoroughly enjoyed the wonderful ballet, which was the first visit by the National Folkloric Ballet of Colombia, and one of only two performances during that first visit to the UK. It was worth going just for the music alone - performed by eight musicians, but the 20 dancers who performed stories in dance, and their frequent changes of beautiful costumes were absolutely brilliant. We enjoyed ourselves immensely. Afterwards we had one last drink in the bar and I went back with Lil and stayed overnight at her house at West Bromwich. Next day after breakfast we took a bus back to Birmingham and did a tour of shops before I caught the noon train to Bristol. My son Justin met me at the station there and took me home, where I then had to get busy because I had friends coming over for a meal that evening.
A couple of days later my sister came over for lunch and whilst we were relaxing in the garden afterwards I said how much I regretted not being able to go to Sidmouth International Music festival and she said "Why don't we go?" I was delighted and amazed because she normally needs at least a week to contemplate whizzing off like that. With no more ado I was on the phone enquiring about train times etc, and the following morning we caught the 7.30 am train from Bath and two trains and a bus later arrived at Sidmouth at 10.45 - a day early!
We walked around the town, the shops, etc and were pleased to find out that some bands would be doing a taster session of half an hour each that evening in the Market Square and that Dante's band, Amaru III, who we'd come all that way to see, were one of them. Sure enough we made our way early to the Market Square to get a good view of the performances. I hadn't had time to let Dante know we'd be there, and he saw me in the square before I saw him and was amazed to see us there. We enjoyed the various performances - especially Amaru III's set - and afterwards with the four members of Amaru III (Dante, Marcos, Carlos and Kieffer), went to the nearby pub and sat at tables outside and had a wonderful time with them. Dante lives in London so I don't get to see him very often, which is a shame because he is such fun. We keep in touch with letters or phone calls. After a while the members of the band were improvising with their instruments, and a young girl singer joined in and everyone within earshot enjoyed a lovely impromptu performance, especially Kathryn and me. It was really wonderful. We'd planned to stay two nights at Sidmouth and the next day we saw the members of Amaru III at the same pub we'd been to the night before and had a drink with them. The band then had to disappear to the arena for sound checking, as they were the finale act of the Family Premier Show that afternoon.
Kathryn and I made our way there in good time and joined the queue early as I wanted good seats and a good view of their performance. It was worth the wait as we had front row seats. The show began with various song, exotic drum and dance acts which were okay but we were dying to see Amaru III's performance and when it started we enjoyed their show tremendously. After it finished Marco said to come backstage as they could give us a lift back to town once they'd loaded up their equipment. We had a good laugh and joke with them and in the process saw the proofs of photos taken by a photographer and I promptly ordered one of Dante on his panpipes and one of the whole band. Then the video was being shown on screen and Amaru III looked so good on screen that I ordered a copy of that as well!
The band gave us a lift to town and when we piled out at the pub Kathryn and I were thrilled to realise that Amaru III were doing another performance there. A makeshift stage had been erected with scaffolding bars, and the rear carpark was ringed with tables and benches. These soon filled with families and we had a wonderful time. The band played all evening with just one short break, people were up dancing and the whole atmosphere was really magic. All in all it had been well worth the effort of going to Sidmouth to see so much of such a brilliant band.
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