I have never considered myself to be a "sporty type", possibly because I am not competitive enough - I have never had any overwhelming desire to be the best ... at anything! This could be related to my innate shyness, and not wishing to be in the spotlight, or just that I never thought I was good enough to try that bit harder to be the best. That doesn't mean I didn't try, or train hard when it was needed, but I never went that extra mile that top sportspeople need to go to be the best, or try to be the best. I suppose I was as good as I wanted to be.
The first competitive event I can remember was an Obstacle course at primary school, which to my surprise I won in my age group! (I may still have the certificate somewhere!) This, of course, was back in the days when children were allowed to "win" or "lose", which I think is great for character development. Sports day at Grammar school a few years later and I came second in the junior hurdles - let down by my sprinting, or lack of it, I was first over all the barriers but caught on the final run in to the tape!
So when I arrived at boarding school in Rhodesia, in 1967, I thought of myself as a "hurdler"! I had gone up in age group, and in hurdle height, but I was still the same size as before and could barely get over the hurdles - I still couldn't sprint very fast! However I did persevere and the following year managed a reasonable time and placement.
At boarding school sports were very important, not only for the exercise and health benefits, but because we had so much "spare" time as boarders. Different terms meant different sports became priorities, so we had a Rugby Term, a Cricket Term, a Hockey Term, and an Athletics Term. Football (soccer to those of you from strange countries where FOOT-ball, is played with very little foot and ball contact, and the ball is egg-shaped!) was considered to be a "minor" sport, and though I did play for the school at senior level against some of the local African schools it was not really recognised. Tennis and basketball were also "minor" sports, and we also tried out squash, volleyball and water polo. We did have an inter-house swimming gala every year, which my boarding house (one of five) used to do particularly well in, though swimming also was not a "major" sport.
When I arrived there I was not very tall (at 5'10", 1.74m - I suppose I am not THAT tall now!) and certainly not very fit, so struggled at sports, in which participation was compulsory. It was Rugby term, and we had to attend the First XV match on Saturday afternoon and cheer them on - our school always produced a pretty good senior team, who did well against the other schools - and we used to get yelled at if the "cheerleader" (a school prefect!) didn't think we were shouting loud enough! This was the only sport where support was compulsory, so I guess we were a Rugby school!
I did eventually compete for the school at Rugby (regular in the 4th XV, and occasional in the 2nd XV - more about that in another post) and Football, and for my house in Cricket, Hockey, Tennis, Squash (not my finest hour - the only reason I "played" squash was because there was a good smoking spot close by, and walking down with a racquet in your hand didn't raise suspicions. My opponent was a fellow 6th former from another house, who happened to be the school #1 and also played in a local squash league. He took pity on me and played left-handed - and I still didn't score a single point!), and athletics. Never covered myself in glory, but also (except for Pole Vault) didn't embarrass myself either!
To keep this post short I will deal with individual sports separately in other posts.
Circumstances made me move to Brazil in 2009, and I spent 6 months of the year there, and the remaining time in Peru, until 2020 when the Covid hit, trapping me in Peru for 14 months, before I managed to return to the UK, where I now reside permanently. I see the world through slightly rose-tinted glasses, but maybe because I have been fortunate in not suffering too many hardships along the way, and maintaining an optimistic, but realistic outlook on life.
Wednesday, 18 May 2016
Friday, 29 January 2016
Not looking for romance
I am a simple person, well after all, I am a man, at least last time I looked, and I like life uncomplicated.
While in Peru in 2014 I was leaving my apartment one day when I came across a lady standing in the street looking up at the building - she asked me about the apartments as she was looking for somewhere to move to (though she was put off by the rent I quoted I was paying!). When she heard my accent she asked where I was from, and then told me she had an English friend, who, like me, spent 6 months a year in Huanchaco, and we should meet up. Yay, I love matchmakers! We are both English, both single, and therefore must want to hook up. I made some excuses about being busy at the moment and went on my way, thinking that would be the end of it.
Two weeks later there is a knock on my door - she (the Peruvian lady, not her English friend) had tried every apartment looking for me, which wasn't that hard as there were only 4 of them. I invited her in out of courtesy, and she told me her friend was about to return to the UK, but also told me a potted version of her own life history - single mum (I guessed mid-forties), ex-husband in Argentina, where she lived with him for many years, doesn't know anyone here so is lonely (though has family in Trujillo, 10 kms, away as that is where she was originally from), no social life, and so on. I could barely get a word in edgewise, and she spoke very fast, but my understanding of Spanish was up to the task.
She again invited me round to meet her friend, for coffee or a meal, and again I made my excuses - I was just about to embark on my first motorbike trip - but she gave me her business card (she worked in a beauty salon) with phone number and email address, and asked me to get in touch when I got back.
As soon as she left I sent an email trying to explain that I was not looking for a relationship with anyone, hoped I had not misunderstood her intentions, and wishing her well. I hoped that might be the end of it! But a week later she again arrives at my apartment - she is unable to access her emails. so never got my message! Her friend has now left and she is very lonely, and only has her 10 year-old son for company, and never gets a chance to go out. I ask her about her family in Trujillo, and she says she doesn't really get on with them, as they disapproved of her marriage to an Argentinian and move there, so they won't help her, and also she lost touch with all her old friends while out of the country for so long.
I am feeling very uneasy about all this, especially as she keeps saying how important my friendship is - but my command of Spanish is not up explaining this effectively, and I get the impression she is not really listening to what I am saying anyway, and I trying so hard to say that I am not interested. After she goes I even try sending text messages, but next time I see her she says she cannot access text messages on her phone!
She even brings her son round to meet me one afternoon, on the way back from school! Then one evening she comes round in a really bad state, all weepy and saying how things are really tough for her, and has no-one to talk to, and values my friendship and really thinks highly of me - and I have no idea how to respond to this as I do not want to encourage her, but have no idea how to gently explain my feelings, and hoping I am not putting out the wrong signals, as everything I am doing seem to be encouraging her. A couple of days later she comes round in the morning, and after a good deal of beating around the bush asks if she can borrow 50 Soles (around £12), as work is slow and she needs to buy some food for her son. Yeah, I know, alarm bells are now going off, but I agree, hoping that this will change the relationship dynamics.
I start ignoring the door, too, as I can see who is there without being seen, both day and night - cruel, I suppose, but I cannot think of a better way of getting the message across. Things do go quiet for a while - I am doing some more trips on my bike, and don't see her at my door. Then I am on the way, on foot, to the market one morning when I bump into her with another man, who she introduces as her ex visiting from Argentina. She pays me back the 50 Soles, which I never expected to see again, and invites me for coffee with them both as her ex-husband is only visiting to see his son for a few days. Iam genuinely on a tight schedule so make my excuses. Then 2 days later I bump into him on his own, and he again invites me for coffee - I try to explain that I don't think it is a good idea, but I have trouble explaining things like this in English, let alone in a foreign language!
That wasn't long before my time in Peru in 2014 ended, and I didn't see either of them again before I left. 2015 I stayed in a different apartment block and saw no sign of her, so thought she must have finally got the message, and possibly moved away as well because Huanchaco is a very small town. That is until two weeks before I was leaving to return to Brazil. I often walk along the seafront promenade in Huanchaco, as I love the sea and definitely need the exercise, though I do tend to avoid the busiest times (festivals, weekends, and so on). This particular day was a Saturday and I had walked along about half the length of the promenade, which was fairly busy, but as is my wont I wasn't paying much attention to other people around me (too busy trying to avoid potholes in the pavement, and not bump into people), and instead of turning round and returning the same way, through the crowds, I cut through one block and returned along a street parallel to the seafront. Suddenly I heard my name being called, and turned to see her with her son and sister hurrying along behind me. I had walked past them buying something from a street vendor, and she recognised me.
Big hugs and introductions - it sounded as though her sister knew all about me - and the inevitable invitation to go and have coffee then and there, or for a meal tomorrow at her family home in Trujillo! I was genuinely on my way to a meeting (I do some irregular work with a small charity in Huanchaco), but she gave me her new phone number and extracted a promise that I would call to arrange something! Good Lord! I thought it was guys that had trouble taking a hint! It has been 12 months, and she is acting as though we are best friends and only parted yesterday.
Simple? I have never had a more complicated relationship - or non-relationship as I have been doing everything I can think of not to get involved. As I only have a fortnight left, and she now does live in Trujillo, 10 kms away, and doesn't know where I am staying this year, I am hoping that this will be the end of it - at least until 2016 when I return to Peru again - but I definitely get the feeling I am being stalked!
While in Peru in 2014 I was leaving my apartment one day when I came across a lady standing in the street looking up at the building - she asked me about the apartments as she was looking for somewhere to move to (though she was put off by the rent I quoted I was paying!). When she heard my accent she asked where I was from, and then told me she had an English friend, who, like me, spent 6 months a year in Huanchaco, and we should meet up. Yay, I love matchmakers! We are both English, both single, and therefore must want to hook up. I made some excuses about being busy at the moment and went on my way, thinking that would be the end of it.
Two weeks later there is a knock on my door - she (the Peruvian lady, not her English friend) had tried every apartment looking for me, which wasn't that hard as there were only 4 of them. I invited her in out of courtesy, and she told me her friend was about to return to the UK, but also told me a potted version of her own life history - single mum (I guessed mid-forties), ex-husband in Argentina, where she lived with him for many years, doesn't know anyone here so is lonely (though has family in Trujillo, 10 kms, away as that is where she was originally from), no social life, and so on. I could barely get a word in edgewise, and she spoke very fast, but my understanding of Spanish was up to the task.
She again invited me round to meet her friend, for coffee or a meal, and again I made my excuses - I was just about to embark on my first motorbike trip - but she gave me her business card (she worked in a beauty salon) with phone number and email address, and asked me to get in touch when I got back.
As soon as she left I sent an email trying to explain that I was not looking for a relationship with anyone, hoped I had not misunderstood her intentions, and wishing her well. I hoped that might be the end of it! But a week later she again arrives at my apartment - she is unable to access her emails. so never got my message! Her friend has now left and she is very lonely, and only has her 10 year-old son for company, and never gets a chance to go out. I ask her about her family in Trujillo, and she says she doesn't really get on with them, as they disapproved of her marriage to an Argentinian and move there, so they won't help her, and also she lost touch with all her old friends while out of the country for so long.
I am feeling very uneasy about all this, especially as she keeps saying how important my friendship is - but my command of Spanish is not up explaining this effectively, and I get the impression she is not really listening to what I am saying anyway, and I trying so hard to say that I am not interested. After she goes I even try sending text messages, but next time I see her she says she cannot access text messages on her phone!
She even brings her son round to meet me one afternoon, on the way back from school! Then one evening she comes round in a really bad state, all weepy and saying how things are really tough for her, and has no-one to talk to, and values my friendship and really thinks highly of me - and I have no idea how to respond to this as I do not want to encourage her, but have no idea how to gently explain my feelings, and hoping I am not putting out the wrong signals, as everything I am doing seem to be encouraging her. A couple of days later she comes round in the morning, and after a good deal of beating around the bush asks if she can borrow 50 Soles (around £12), as work is slow and she needs to buy some food for her son. Yeah, I know, alarm bells are now going off, but I agree, hoping that this will change the relationship dynamics.
I start ignoring the door, too, as I can see who is there without being seen, both day and night - cruel, I suppose, but I cannot think of a better way of getting the message across. Things do go quiet for a while - I am doing some more trips on my bike, and don't see her at my door. Then I am on the way, on foot, to the market one morning when I bump into her with another man, who she introduces as her ex visiting from Argentina. She pays me back the 50 Soles, which I never expected to see again, and invites me for coffee with them both as her ex-husband is only visiting to see his son for a few days. Iam genuinely on a tight schedule so make my excuses. Then 2 days later I bump into him on his own, and he again invites me for coffee - I try to explain that I don't think it is a good idea, but I have trouble explaining things like this in English, let alone in a foreign language!
That wasn't long before my time in Peru in 2014 ended, and I didn't see either of them again before I left. 2015 I stayed in a different apartment block and saw no sign of her, so thought she must have finally got the message, and possibly moved away as well because Huanchaco is a very small town. That is until two weeks before I was leaving to return to Brazil. I often walk along the seafront promenade in Huanchaco, as I love the sea and definitely need the exercise, though I do tend to avoid the busiest times (festivals, weekends, and so on). This particular day was a Saturday and I had walked along about half the length of the promenade, which was fairly busy, but as is my wont I wasn't paying much attention to other people around me (too busy trying to avoid potholes in the pavement, and not bump into people), and instead of turning round and returning the same way, through the crowds, I cut through one block and returned along a street parallel to the seafront. Suddenly I heard my name being called, and turned to see her with her son and sister hurrying along behind me. I had walked past them buying something from a street vendor, and she recognised me.
Big hugs and introductions - it sounded as though her sister knew all about me - and the inevitable invitation to go and have coffee then and there, or for a meal tomorrow at her family home in Trujillo! I was genuinely on my way to a meeting (I do some irregular work with a small charity in Huanchaco), but she gave me her new phone number and extracted a promise that I would call to arrange something! Good Lord! I thought it was guys that had trouble taking a hint! It has been 12 months, and she is acting as though we are best friends and only parted yesterday.
Simple? I have never had a more complicated relationship - or non-relationship as I have been doing everything I can think of not to get involved. As I only have a fortnight left, and she now does live in Trujillo, 10 kms away, and doesn't know where I am staying this year, I am hoping that this will be the end of it - at least until 2016 when I return to Peru again - but I definitely get the feeling I am being stalked!
Sunday, 17 January 2016
Banking in Brazil as a foreigner
Brazil has been my home for at least 6 months of the year for the past 6 years. I say "my home" as it is the only place I actually own a house, though I do not have permanent residence here.
As a non-resident I an unable to open a bank account here so have to rely on my UK account and cashpoint machines (ATMs). Since the exchange rate at the moment is very favourable it is probably a good thing I don't have a local account holding my meagre savings, but accessing this money can be a challenge. When I first came here the daily (local) withdrawal limit was R$1000, which at the time was around £330, but recently, for some unknown reason the banks have reduced the ATM withdrawal limit - for foreigners - to R$500, which is around £90 at the current exchange rate! One "reason" given is it is to protect tourists from muggings or being taken to an ATM at gunpoint to clear out their account - however it is possible, where there are multiple different banks, to make a withdrawal at each in succession up to the R$500 limit.
In my town we only have one physical bank, which has 6 ATMs, though only 4 actually dispense cash - the others are for deposits, balance enquiries, bill payments (if you have an account there) and other services. One of these is a "priority" or preferencial ATM, for disabled, pregnant, elderly (over 60 here!), and mothers with toddlers.
It is possible to make over the counter withdrawals of amounts up to your own bank's daily limit (though I have never tested this), but getting inside the bank is a challenge. You have to pass through a revolving, metal-detecting, door watched over by an armed security guard - so have to divest yourself of anything metal, including keys, coins, phone, glasses, and so on. These are passed through a perspex "letterbox" in the armoured glass wall, and collected by the security guard (he needs to check there are no weapons in them!), who then gives them to you. You then are faced with a ticket machine - you have to select whether you are a customer or not, then it asks for an ID number??? The guard informed me that I simply have to press "continue" at this stage, and then it asks what service you want, so I select counter (as opposed to talking to an adviser or other employee), and then I select "preferencial"! The previous time I went in there was no queue at the counter, just the person being served, so I declined priority, and then sat as 4 priority customers in a row entered an were attended before me! One had a pile of bills to pay so I ended up waiting 30 minutes! So the next two times I selected priority, however the automatic system (linked to a screen) wasn't working so I had to wait to be called - and both times they served around 10 people before me! I only ever go inside as a last resort now.
I went in the other day to withdraw some cash and only three ATMs were functional, and had long queues, so, although I am entitled to priority treatment, chose the shortest queue (there appeared to be several qualifying customers already in the priority queue anyway). After a 10 minute wait it was my turn, so I inserted my card - and it told me the machine had a problem with my card and I should go to another ATM! As there were still long queues at all the machines, and I wasn't out of cash, I decided to return at a later time.
Today is Sunday so I decide it will be a good time to try again. Still only 3 cash dispensing machines functional, so I choose a different one to the one that caused problems before, and everything seems to be going smoothly - until it comes to dispense my money. "Counting notes" - lots of whirring from inside the machine, and the cash slot opens. More whirring, "counting notes", slot closes - and this carries on for 10 minutes, before I get a message there is a problem with the cash drawer and transaction is cancelled! I take a chance on the priority machine and this time it dispenses my money, though I must admit I was starting to worry what I would do if I couldn't withdraw cash from the only bank in town!
As a non-resident I an unable to open a bank account here so have to rely on my UK account and cashpoint machines (ATMs). Since the exchange rate at the moment is very favourable it is probably a good thing I don't have a local account holding my meagre savings, but accessing this money can be a challenge. When I first came here the daily (local) withdrawal limit was R$1000, which at the time was around £330, but recently, for some unknown reason the banks have reduced the ATM withdrawal limit - for foreigners - to R$500, which is around £90 at the current exchange rate! One "reason" given is it is to protect tourists from muggings or being taken to an ATM at gunpoint to clear out their account - however it is possible, where there are multiple different banks, to make a withdrawal at each in succession up to the R$500 limit.
In my town we only have one physical bank, which has 6 ATMs, though only 4 actually dispense cash - the others are for deposits, balance enquiries, bill payments (if you have an account there) and other services. One of these is a "priority" or preferencial ATM, for disabled, pregnant, elderly (over 60 here!), and mothers with toddlers.
It is possible to make over the counter withdrawals of amounts up to your own bank's daily limit (though I have never tested this), but getting inside the bank is a challenge. You have to pass through a revolving, metal-detecting, door watched over by an armed security guard - so have to divest yourself of anything metal, including keys, coins, phone, glasses, and so on. These are passed through a perspex "letterbox" in the armoured glass wall, and collected by the security guard (he needs to check there are no weapons in them!), who then gives them to you. You then are faced with a ticket machine - you have to select whether you are a customer or not, then it asks for an ID number??? The guard informed me that I simply have to press "continue" at this stage, and then it asks what service you want, so I select counter (as opposed to talking to an adviser or other employee), and then I select "preferencial"! The previous time I went in there was no queue at the counter, just the person being served, so I declined priority, and then sat as 4 priority customers in a row entered an were attended before me! One had a pile of bills to pay so I ended up waiting 30 minutes! So the next two times I selected priority, however the automatic system (linked to a screen) wasn't working so I had to wait to be called - and both times they served around 10 people before me! I only ever go inside as a last resort now.
I went in the other day to withdraw some cash and only three ATMs were functional, and had long queues, so, although I am entitled to priority treatment, chose the shortest queue (there appeared to be several qualifying customers already in the priority queue anyway). After a 10 minute wait it was my turn, so I inserted my card - and it told me the machine had a problem with my card and I should go to another ATM! As there were still long queues at all the machines, and I wasn't out of cash, I decided to return at a later time.
Today is Sunday so I decide it will be a good time to try again. Still only 3 cash dispensing machines functional, so I choose a different one to the one that caused problems before, and everything seems to be going smoothly - until it comes to dispense my money. "Counting notes" - lots of whirring from inside the machine, and the cash slot opens. More whirring, "counting notes", slot closes - and this carries on for 10 minutes, before I get a message there is a problem with the cash drawer and transaction is cancelled! I take a chance on the priority machine and this time it dispenses my money, though I must admit I was starting to worry what I would do if I couldn't withdraw cash from the only bank in town!
Thursday, 29 October 2015
The dreaded Bucket List
"25 Places to see before you die!"
"50 things to do before you die!"
"100 ideas for your bucket list!"
These are common headlines around the internet and in magazines, and no doubt spur some people to rush out and write their own list. I have never felt the need to do this, possibly because I have been fortunate to have had some pretty amazing experiences, and visited some incredible places during my "normal" lifetime, and, though there are places I would still like to see, and things I would still like to do, I feel that if I made a list - apart from deciding what to leave off - then if I didn't manage to complete it I would feel as though I have failed. Unless you have unlimited funds, and unlimited time, it is more than likely that you will "fail" to do everything (and if you actually manage to complete your list, what next - another list?), and the last thing I want is to sit and regret never having visited the Taj Mahal, or reached Everest Base Camp, or Bungee jumped off a bridge, but rather to remember all the wonderful places I have seen, and the incredible experiences I have had.
So this is my "Things I have done list" - all were, to me, pretty amazing, and I wish I had photographic evidence of them! So as not to put them in any order of importance I will try and list them chronologically (though will probably fail miserably as I think of new ones to add!).
"50 things to do before you die!"
"100 ideas for your bucket list!"
These are common headlines around the internet and in magazines, and no doubt spur some people to rush out and write their own list. I have never felt the need to do this, possibly because I have been fortunate to have had some pretty amazing experiences, and visited some incredible places during my "normal" lifetime, and, though there are places I would still like to see, and things I would still like to do, I feel that if I made a list - apart from deciding what to leave off - then if I didn't manage to complete it I would feel as though I have failed. Unless you have unlimited funds, and unlimited time, it is more than likely that you will "fail" to do everything (and if you actually manage to complete your list, what next - another list?), and the last thing I want is to sit and regret never having visited the Taj Mahal, or reached Everest Base Camp, or Bungee jumped off a bridge, but rather to remember all the wonderful places I have seen, and the incredible experiences I have had.
So this is my "Things I have done list" - all were, to me, pretty amazing, and I wish I had photographic evidence of them! So as not to put them in any order of importance I will try and list them chronologically (though will probably fail miserably as I think of new ones to add!).
- Make a long sea voyage on a liner (3 actually!) - twice out to Africa and once back
- Visit Africa
- Swim in the Atlantic Ocean
- Go on safari
- Fly in a plane
- See the Zambezi river
- Visit Victoria Falls
- Visit the Zimbabwe ruins (I am not talking about the country as it is now, but the ancient stone ruins)
- Travel on a paddle steamer
- Swim in the Indian Ocean
- Learn to play golf
- Ride a motorbike
- Drive a car (actually a Landcruiser jeep!)
- Visit South Africa
- Visit Denmark where I have family
- Visit Kenya
- Snorkel on the coral reef
- See the Rift Valley
- Learn to bake bread - commercially!
- Do a motorbike road trip from UK to Denmark - through Belgium, Holland and Germany!
- Buy a 650cc motorbike
- Ride a bike at 120mph (scared myself and never did it again!)
- Buy a house
- Get married
- Become a father
- Visit Swaziland
- Visit Kruger National Park
- Learn Archery
- Learn Abseiling (artificial wall)
- Learn climbing (artificial wall)
- Become qualified activity instructor
- Get divorced
- Buy a VW Camper Van
- Visit Spain
- Visit Tunisia
- Visit Brazil
- Visit Morro do Sao Paulo
- Visit the Chapada Diamantina National Park
- Live in Brazil
- Do charity work
- Visit Iguacu
- Visit the Pantanal
- Spend Carnaval in Salvador
- Visit Peru
- Visit Islas Ballestas
- Visit Huanchaco
- Swim in the Pacific Ocean
- Live in Peru
- Visit Chachapoyas
- Visit Quelap
- Visit Gocta waterfall (16th tallest in the world)
- Visit Scotland
- Tour by motorbike in Peru
- Drive through the Maranon Canyon by motorbike (deeper than the Grand Canyon)
- Visit Huaraz
- Drive along Duck Canyon (considered to be one of the world's most dangerous roads)
- Visit the USA
- Drive (most of!) Route 66
- See the Grand Canyon
- See Hoover Dam
- Take a boat trip on Lake Mead
- Drive a convertible Ford Mustang (in California)
- Visit Utah
- Celebrate Thanksgiving
- Get a tattoo
That will do for now (I have no doubt missed some out and will revisit it - after all I have not kicked that bucket yet!) - and if I had to pick the highlight it would have to be #25 - I was there at the birth of my daughter and it was the most magical experience!
Friday, 12 June 2015
Rules of the road in Peru - apparently!
The apparent driving rules of Peru
Having driven in Peru now for almost 12000 kms (7500 miles)
I feel that I am an expert on the rules of the road, so am prepared to share
them with everyone. I have not seen a written version of these, nor am aware of
the existence of such a thing, so these are drawn up from my experiences, and
observation of other motorists!
1. Speed limits.
There do not seem to be any speed limits in
Peru, illustrated by the absence of signage. Occasionally you may see a sign
stating “35” but there is never any sign showing an end to this restriction, so
I can only assume it is NOT a speed limit, but some other indication. On the
open road I have seen a sign saying “speed limit” 90kph, but 200 metres further
along there was another large sign showing “maximum speed 80kph, minimum speed
55kph”, so these must be purely decorative.
I generally travel by motorbike around the
90-100kph (I do know that 100kph is nominally the maximum speed, but not sure
exactly where this applies as have seen no indications) mark, and am passed by
every private car on the road, usually travelling at speeds approaching 160kph,
and have also been overtaken by buses and trucks who must also be travelling
well in excess of the assumed 100kph.
In rural areas – usually indicated by a
sign saying “urban zone” but no speed limit signs – the way to make vehicles
reduce speed is by the strategic placement of …
2.
Speed bumps.
These are everywhere, and may appear in
groups of two. They vary in size and shape, from gentle curves that no-one
needs to slow for, to short, sharp bumps that can rip out the undercarriage of
low vehicles, or smash the suspension of heavily laden ones (hence their local
names of “spring breaker”, not to be confused with the time of debauchery at US
colleges). Most, admittedly, do have warning signs letting motorists know about
their presence, and some are even zebra-striped for further warning, but many
appear suddenly for the unwary, resulting in heavy braking, or other evasive
tactics. Some vehicles approach these in a crab-like fashion, preferring the one-wheel-at-a-time
way of getting over, but my motorcycle approach is much simpler – stand on the
footpegs and ride straight over without slowing (though fully laden with my
carriers attached this often leads to sheared bolts!).
Some speed bumps appear to be made for
motorcyclists as they do not stretch on to the hard shoulder, meaning you can
ride round them with no slowing down, too. Occasionally the “bump” will also
only be on one side of the carriageway, meaning that vehicles can avoid them by
driving towards oncoming traffic, which can be very disconcerting for the
unwary motorist who suddenly finds himself sharing the road with an approaching
juggernaut!
3.
Lane etiquette.
Unlike most countries where slower traffic
uses the outer (closest to the kerb) lane – this is the left lane in UK and
right-hand drive countries, and the right lane everywhere else – in Peru slow
moving vehicles (heavy trucks, three-wheelers, and so on) tend to hog the “fast”
lane, meaning that you have to “undertake” to get past. Even where there is no
traffic in the “slow” lane the outer lane tends to be the preferred lane for
most traffic, and most overtaking is, in fact, undertaking. Approaching one of
these monsters on his “blind side” (as the driver is seated on the left) can be
rather scary on a motorcycle, but the hard shoulder is always available as an
escape route.
On single carriageways the hard shoulder is
used almost exclusively by three-wheeled moto-taxis. They have a top speed on
around 50kph so tend to stick on the shoulder leaving the lane clear. This,
however, causes problems for faster single light (two-wheeled) vehicles, like
motorbikes, as oncoming traffic expects you to get out of their way onto said
hard shoulder, and will flash their lights, while overtaking towards you, to
inform you of this. At 90-100kph, however, I am often reluctant to move off the
roadway, onto a shoulder full of loose dirt, pot-holes, roadkill, and goodness
knows what else (sometimes there is also a 5cm – 2 inch! – drop onto the
shoulder too) – and usually indicate this by flashing my lights back at them
and waggling my middle finger vigorously as well.
4.
Animals on the roads.
I am talking domesticated animals here, not
the wild indigenous game, and whereas in many countries (particularly Brazil
where I spend half the year) most roadside animals (placed there to forage on
the roadside vegetation) appear to be tethered this is not the case in Peru.
Occasionally there will be a sign warning of animals ahead, but mostly it is
down to driver’s vigilance. I have come across untended horses, donkeys, cattle,
sheep, goats, pigs and even turkeys – and on many occasions there is no
evidence of any habitation close by.
In the foothills of the Andes, where
pathways are few and far between, and the main road is often the only way of
getting from A to B, you often come across attended animals. Usually the
attendant is at the rear of the herd, so you first come across animals all over
the road, and then notice the herder behind. Sometimes the animals will have a
rope attached, but these are generally tailing across the road behind them, so
are an additional hazard.
5.
Town driving.
Most towns in Peru follow a grid pattern,
and streets alternate one-way in each direction. This is sometimes, but not
always, indicated by a direction arrow painted on a wall at a road junction, or
even incorporated into the street name sign – it is the ones that have no
indication that are problematic for strangers to the town! I have several times
found myself driving innocently towards oncoming traffic.
Lane discipline is again a major grey area –
taxis and buses generally have to stop on the right to collect or discharge
passengers, but at traffic lights are permitted (apparently) to pick up in any
lane, and even hold up traffic once the light has changed. Collecting on the
right is sensible, but this usually takes place at a junction (there are very
few “official” bus stops), and often then entails a swift crossing of all the
lanes to make a left turn if needed, accompanied by the driver’s arm waving
frantically from his window indicating his intention. This right lane to left -
and left lane to right - turning is common at traffic lights – approaching drivers
will take the shortest queue, no matter which way they wish to turn, and then
simply turn across everyone!
Where there are dual carriageways (with
traffic islands separating traffic with openings for turning and joining
traffic) I generally drive on the left as close as possible to the island – I used
to drive on the right, but buses and taxis cutting me off to drop off, or pick up,
fares made me realise that staying as close to the centre island was the safest
place to travel – other vehicles still cut you off (the rule appears to be that
if your nose is in front you have right of way and can change lane with
impunity), but you only have to keep a look out on one side, not also for pedestrians
stepping out, cars pulling out, and car doors opening. I was once almost taken
out by a taxi who was stopped at a traffic light in the centre of three lanes –
I wanted to turn right so took the empty right-hand lane, only for his
passenger to open the rear door, as the light changed to green, to disembark – a
quick swerve by me avoided more than a tap by the taxi door.
6.
Roundabouts
These appear to be a mystery to everyone!
Unlike the UK, where traffic already on the roundabout has priority, here
oncoming traffic has right of way – at least most of the time! It would appear
that there are occasions when traffic on the major road has priority – so if
you are travelling along the main road and enter a roundabout (your priority)
you maintain that priority throughout the roundabout, and oncoming traffic has
to give way to you. However there doesn’t appear to be any indication where
this occurs, so you have to close your eyes and take your chance.
7.
Traffic lights
Traffic lights have three phases:
a)
Red – stop if it is already red when you get
there (unless you think you can get away with it), but if it changed to red
just before you arrive accelerate and you should be OK. If you arrive at a
changing light and are slowing down to stop have a quick check in your rear-view
mirror as the following motorist may be expecting you to jump the light, and may
not be planning to stop himself!
b)
Amber – Just another shade of green, ignore it,
or speed up
c)
Green – a second before it turns green start
moving, or if you are not the lead vehicle lean on your hooter (in some towns
the traffic lights have a countdown to change so it is easy to see when to
start hooting – 3 seconds before zero, or when to start driving – also 3
seconds before zero, while the light is still red). Do be aware that there is
more than likely a car coming across the lights (jumping the red) so cross with
caution, especially if you are ready to drive off, and not one of those drivers
who still has to put the car in gear and disengage the handbrake (or even start
the engine you have stopped to save fuel at the lights!) before pulling away.
There is no “grace” period when all lights are red – as one turns red the cross
traffic light instantly turns green.
I have already mentioned the right to
left/left to right turning issues before, and nowhere is this more evident that
at traffic lights. If you are in the “wrong” lane at a traffic light the
solution is simple – start driving before the light changes to green and turn
where you want to go!
8.
Traffic policemen
Many busy junctions in towns have at least
one traffic policeman – with a whistle that they blow incessantly. I have not
yet worked out what the whistle sounds mean, so they may just be blowing it to
let you know they are there, though they do get a bit frantic at time when they
see something strange (like a bus stopping in the middle of turning to drop
passengers because there are other buses blocking where they need to stop) and
will blow till they are red in the face while also gesticulating wildly.
On the open highway there are also many
police checkpoints, and they will stop random drivers for a document check. Generally
if you remove your crash helmet, and reveal that you are a Gringo, rather than
ask for “prata” (silver, ie. cash), as many people warned me about, they get
quite excited, as though you are the highlight of their day, and wave you along
without checking any paperwork. I have had them shake hands with me, and ask my
opinion of Peru, but never had any request for a “donation”! A few days ago I
was waved over by one seated in the middle of a dual carriageway on a sharp
bend (this was in town so on a slow corner) – I pulled over to the edge of the
road and he followed. After several attempts to stand his bike up in the soft
sand in front of me he drove off! However he did stop a few yards further down
and walked back. A cursory glance at my documents after I revealed my
Gringo-ness, and he nodded and strolled back to his bike. Another biker,
without a crash helmet (they are obligatory, but appear to be “optional”!) rode
past so he whistled at him, repeatedly as the rider ignored him, but as by the
time he got back to his bike the other bike was well down the road he simply
shrugged and left it!
9.
Parking.
Parking is still a major mystery to me, but
doesn’t appear to be to Peruvians – they simply park where they like! In no
parking zones, on corners, on zebra crossings (Oh, forgot to mention them –
pedestrians have to give way, not motorists!), across driveways, on the
pavement, blocking roads … it just goes on. I thought I had worked out that if
the kerb was painted yellow it meant “no parking” but no-one takes any notice
so I must be wrong.
There are some parking garages, where you
pay to park, though many for some reason will not take motorbikes (the ones
that do will also look after your crash helmet), and some mall parking lots
give you a (free) ticket when you arrive where they write your ID number and
number plate, for security, and check this when you leave.
The general rule for parking appears to be
to park as close to where you want to be as possible – this may mean parking on
the pavement (so pedestrians have to go round you), double parking (as someone
is already parked where you want to be), parking opposite another parked
vehicle (thus blocking the road), parking on someone’s drive, or so close he
cannot open his garage door, or in the middle of the road as there is some
other obstruction (like an advertising board) preventing you from stopping
right outside the door. These all apply even if there are no other cars parked
in the street – there is no reason you should have to walk more than a few
paces.
I realise that this list is incomplete as
there are numerous scenarios I haven’t yet experienced, and some I may have
omitted as I felt they must be wrong! This latter category includes making left
turns, or U-turns where there are signs forbidding them – the “No left turn”
and “No U turn” signs here must mean something else!
To my Peruvian friends and acquaintances I
mean no malice by this, but am just having a bit of fun!! I am sure that
driving in the UK is just as bad – well, at least by all the foreigners over
there!!
Wednesday, 22 April 2015
Alone ... or lonely?
A lot of people think it odd that I choose to live alone, here in South America it seems to be expected that you are part of a big family and are amazed when they hear that I live alone. They assume that you must be very lonely, and try and involve you in things, but I want to choose the things I do, and not have to join in because people think I might need to be involved with others around me.
There is a world of difference between being "alone" and being "lonely". "Alone" is a physical state, no-one else around, and "lonely" is a mental state, when you feel bereft because no-one is around, though you can easily feel lonely in a crowd of people, or with loved ones, particularly if you feel that the others do not understand you.
I like being alone - I do not feel the need to have other people around me all the time, I do not feel the need to be part of a group or crowd, and, in fact, I avoid crowds whenever I can. Maybe it is because I was a very shy child, so was able to enjoy my own company - I could immerse myself in a book, or even watching a spider build a web, and didn't have to share that with anyone else to feel fulfilled. that doesn't mean that I do not enjoy the company of others, just that I now want that to be on my terms.
I used to work with guys who went out together in their free time, to the pub, to the cinema, to the disco, etc. and saw each other day in, day out, and I could not imagine anything worse - there was no spontaneity, no variety - if it was Wednesday it was disco night, Thursday was karaoke, and so on. When I lived in Mozambique we had a golf course in the village, and I used to go and play most afternoons - alone! Even if my friends were planning to play I would go out earlier, on my own, as I preferred it that way. I met up with them at the club most days, and we used to do things as a group, but I realise now I was always a bit aloof, and used to pass on some of the more dubious escapades!
I was married for 19 years, and living with my wife (now ex-wife) for some years before we tied the knot, and it was an enjoyable time for the most part. We used to do a lot together, and in fact I had very few interests outside family life, so married life was everything to me. After our divorce my daughter came to live with me, until she went away to University, so I had someone living with me for a few more years, but for the past 10 years or so I have lived alone - happily alone.
I can do what I want when I want, without anyone bothering me, and don't have to worry about my actions (in the home) affecting anyone else - I was, I think, a considerate house-mate while married, and would never dream of doing anything that might inconvenience anyone else - nor being bothered by the actions of anyone else. I have a large house in Brazil, and often I am asked why I don't rent out a room, or find a partner to share with - and basically there are 2 reasons, the main one being that I enjoy being alone and would feel uncomfortable working my life around anyone else (lodger or partner), and the second one is that I am very independent and feel I could not afford to support a second person. OK, I am conveniently ignoring the fact that they might also contribute to the household - but the latter stages of my marriage this "partnership" fell apart due to loss of earnings from my wife (medical grounds) and my inability to support us alone, and do not want the stress of being in that situation again.
I now own two motorbikes, one in Brazil to run around town in (I do have a car there but use it only for long journeys), and one here for fishing and touring. I did consider buying a second-hand car here in Peru, but realised that this might solicit requests for lifts when I travel - so the bike allows me to travel alone at my own pace (even though not as comfortably as in a car!). I travel alone, stopping when I want for as long as I want, and generally in pretty remote spots (avoiding crowds!), and never feel lonely. If I have enough food in the house I can spend days without venturing beyond the boundary on my property, and if I do venture further I may just go for a ride along the coast (or down to the river in Brazil!) away from "civilisation", or here in Peru just a walk along the promenade and finding a quiet spot to watch the sea. I may not even say a word to anyone the whole time I am out.
I suppose it would be nice to find a soul-mate, someone to share the remainder of my life with - and it could be a like-minded male just as easily as a female partner (though I rather hope the relationship would be different!) - but I do not feel a "need" for company, I am not looking for any sort of relationship, and am quite content being alone - but never lonely!
There is a world of difference between being "alone" and being "lonely". "Alone" is a physical state, no-one else around, and "lonely" is a mental state, when you feel bereft because no-one is around, though you can easily feel lonely in a crowd of people, or with loved ones, particularly if you feel that the others do not understand you.
I like being alone - I do not feel the need to have other people around me all the time, I do not feel the need to be part of a group or crowd, and, in fact, I avoid crowds whenever I can. Maybe it is because I was a very shy child, so was able to enjoy my own company - I could immerse myself in a book, or even watching a spider build a web, and didn't have to share that with anyone else to feel fulfilled. that doesn't mean that I do not enjoy the company of others, just that I now want that to be on my terms.
I used to work with guys who went out together in their free time, to the pub, to the cinema, to the disco, etc. and saw each other day in, day out, and I could not imagine anything worse - there was no spontaneity, no variety - if it was Wednesday it was disco night, Thursday was karaoke, and so on. When I lived in Mozambique we had a golf course in the village, and I used to go and play most afternoons - alone! Even if my friends were planning to play I would go out earlier, on my own, as I preferred it that way. I met up with them at the club most days, and we used to do things as a group, but I realise now I was always a bit aloof, and used to pass on some of the more dubious escapades!
I was married for 19 years, and living with my wife (now ex-wife) for some years before we tied the knot, and it was an enjoyable time for the most part. We used to do a lot together, and in fact I had very few interests outside family life, so married life was everything to me. After our divorce my daughter came to live with me, until she went away to University, so I had someone living with me for a few more years, but for the past 10 years or so I have lived alone - happily alone.
I can do what I want when I want, without anyone bothering me, and don't have to worry about my actions (in the home) affecting anyone else - I was, I think, a considerate house-mate while married, and would never dream of doing anything that might inconvenience anyone else - nor being bothered by the actions of anyone else. I have a large house in Brazil, and often I am asked why I don't rent out a room, or find a partner to share with - and basically there are 2 reasons, the main one being that I enjoy being alone and would feel uncomfortable working my life around anyone else (lodger or partner), and the second one is that I am very independent and feel I could not afford to support a second person. OK, I am conveniently ignoring the fact that they might also contribute to the household - but the latter stages of my marriage this "partnership" fell apart due to loss of earnings from my wife (medical grounds) and my inability to support us alone, and do not want the stress of being in that situation again.
I now own two motorbikes, one in Brazil to run around town in (I do have a car there but use it only for long journeys), and one here for fishing and touring. I did consider buying a second-hand car here in Peru, but realised that this might solicit requests for lifts when I travel - so the bike allows me to travel alone at my own pace (even though not as comfortably as in a car!). I travel alone, stopping when I want for as long as I want, and generally in pretty remote spots (avoiding crowds!), and never feel lonely. If I have enough food in the house I can spend days without venturing beyond the boundary on my property, and if I do venture further I may just go for a ride along the coast (or down to the river in Brazil!) away from "civilisation", or here in Peru just a walk along the promenade and finding a quiet spot to watch the sea. I may not even say a word to anyone the whole time I am out.
I suppose it would be nice to find a soul-mate, someone to share the remainder of my life with - and it could be a like-minded male just as easily as a female partner (though I rather hope the relationship would be different!) - but I do not feel a "need" for company, I am not looking for any sort of relationship, and am quite content being alone - but never lonely!
Hair and barbers
Hair - we all have it, some more than others, and some in places we don't want it. I am not talking about hair we remove for aesthetic reasons - like underarm, pubic area, and ladies' legs - but rather ears, nose and rampant body hair! As we get older, at least in my case, the ear and nose hair seem to grow more rapidly (not only inside the ears but round the outside too!!), but for most men the head hair seems to recede and eventually disappear, and some shave what little they have remaining as they think it looks better than tufts around the cranium!
My father started losing his hair at quite an early age, and had nothing "on top" by the age of 40, though he left what remained and kept it trimmed at the barbershop. Interestingly both my grandfathers died with full heads of hair, and at 62 I still have very vigorous hair, though now "salt and pepper" coloured, and slightly receding both sides above the eyes.
When I was 22, living in Durban, South Africa, I read an article that said that combing the hair, was very bad for the scalp and could lead to early onset baldness! I immediately went out and bought a hairbrush and have used one ever since - and as I still have all (well the majority of) my hair maybe there was something in that article!
I have had friends who used to spend inordinate amounts of money on their hair - from visiting expensive stylists, blow drying (I am talking males here!), putting all sorts of creams and potions on their heads, tinting, dyeing, and so on. I have always looked for the cheapest barber I can find who does a good job - I have better things to spend what little money I have always had than on my hair - and only go when it starts to get unruly. I have a simple trim, and never let them put any creams, powders, liquids on it - Brylcreem used to be in every barbershop, usually in a fancy pump dispenser (though I must admit that on occasions in the past I have used Brylcreem to tame my mane!).
I recall when we moved to Angola in 1960 I was taken to a local barber - and everything went well until he produced a cut-throat razor (to trim my neckline). I had never had this done before, and had an irrational feeling he was going to cut my throat so would not let him near me with this weapon! After a little gentle persuasion my mother convinced me this was normal and he was not a reincarnation of Sweeney Todd.
Back in England in the mid-60's I used to visit a barber in my village - he was a little man, probably no more than 4 feet tall (he had callipers on one leg, so had obviously had some childhood ailment), but appeared to manage cutting with no problems. The only weird thing was that at 4.00pm, every day like clockwork, he would stop what he was doing (even with a customer in the chair), and without a word leave the shop to go home for his tea! Usually around 15 minutes later he would return and continue as if nothing had happened!
At one stage I used to go to a small market town nearby for my haircut - the barber had a small shop, but with a waiting room for the overflow as he was always incredibly busy. He was good and very quick so you never had too long to wait, and it was better than the 10 mile drive to the nearby city, fight for parking, and then look for a barbershop! What amazed me was how rude he was to his customers - "what the f*ck have you come here for, you expect me to waste my time on that mop you call hair?" - and they loved it! Some even gave back as good as they got, though I was always a bit wary as in a few minutes you would be sitting in his chair entrusting him with your hair (and your ears as he had scissors in his hand!). He closed at 5.00pm, but would tell his regulars to come round to his house and he would cut their hair later that evening (which also meant that this wouldn't go through the books!). He eventually retired so I had to look elsewhere.
When I moved to Brazil there used to be a barber in the town I lived in - but opening hours were random (like many things!) and eventually he appeared to move on, so I have to drive 70kms (40 miles) to a nearby town when my hair needs cutting. Actually I usually wait till I have other things I need to do there, so my hair is generally pretty long by the time I get round to it. The barber does a good job, but takes forever over it - going back over the same areas several times, and then cutting a bit more off.
This brings me to something I have found over the years - the different cutting styles between male and female barbers (hairdressers, if you like). Barbers over the years have tended to cut with a combination of comb and scissors, using the comb to control the depth of cut (and also using "serrated" scissors to thin out hair), while hairdressers tend to gather the hair between two fingers and use that as their "depth stop". On occasion I have used a hairdresser for convenience - once we had one in our village, and another used to come to the house to cut my wife's hair, and I have also waited in hairdressers for my wife or mother so seen how they cut.
The barbers I have been to in Brazil have all cut "hairdresser" style - but as very few tradesmen have any formal training I actually wonder if they have learnt their craft from mothers, wives or girlfriends (or just watching them cut!!) so that is why, rather than that this is the normal barber methodology of Brazil. I went to a barber here in Peru yesterday, and he was old-school, barber-style cutting and extremely efficient (and at 10 Peruvian soles, around £2.10, very reasonable!). I actually came out looking neat and tidy, but not looking as though I had just had my haircut!
My father started losing his hair at quite an early age, and had nothing "on top" by the age of 40, though he left what remained and kept it trimmed at the barbershop. Interestingly both my grandfathers died with full heads of hair, and at 62 I still have very vigorous hair, though now "salt and pepper" coloured, and slightly receding both sides above the eyes.
When I was 22, living in Durban, South Africa, I read an article that said that combing the hair, was very bad for the scalp and could lead to early onset baldness! I immediately went out and bought a hairbrush and have used one ever since - and as I still have all (well the majority of) my hair maybe there was something in that article!
I have had friends who used to spend inordinate amounts of money on their hair - from visiting expensive stylists, blow drying (I am talking males here!), putting all sorts of creams and potions on their heads, tinting, dyeing, and so on. I have always looked for the cheapest barber I can find who does a good job - I have better things to spend what little money I have always had than on my hair - and only go when it starts to get unruly. I have a simple trim, and never let them put any creams, powders, liquids on it - Brylcreem used to be in every barbershop, usually in a fancy pump dispenser (though I must admit that on occasions in the past I have used Brylcreem to tame my mane!).
I recall when we moved to Angola in 1960 I was taken to a local barber - and everything went well until he produced a cut-throat razor (to trim my neckline). I had never had this done before, and had an irrational feeling he was going to cut my throat so would not let him near me with this weapon! After a little gentle persuasion my mother convinced me this was normal and he was not a reincarnation of Sweeney Todd.
Back in England in the mid-60's I used to visit a barber in my village - he was a little man, probably no more than 4 feet tall (he had callipers on one leg, so had obviously had some childhood ailment), but appeared to manage cutting with no problems. The only weird thing was that at 4.00pm, every day like clockwork, he would stop what he was doing (even with a customer in the chair), and without a word leave the shop to go home for his tea! Usually around 15 minutes later he would return and continue as if nothing had happened!
At one stage I used to go to a small market town nearby for my haircut - the barber had a small shop, but with a waiting room for the overflow as he was always incredibly busy. He was good and very quick so you never had too long to wait, and it was better than the 10 mile drive to the nearby city, fight for parking, and then look for a barbershop! What amazed me was how rude he was to his customers - "what the f*ck have you come here for, you expect me to waste my time on that mop you call hair?" - and they loved it! Some even gave back as good as they got, though I was always a bit wary as in a few minutes you would be sitting in his chair entrusting him with your hair (and your ears as he had scissors in his hand!). He closed at 5.00pm, but would tell his regulars to come round to his house and he would cut their hair later that evening (which also meant that this wouldn't go through the books!). He eventually retired so I had to look elsewhere.
When I moved to Brazil there used to be a barber in the town I lived in - but opening hours were random (like many things!) and eventually he appeared to move on, so I have to drive 70kms (40 miles) to a nearby town when my hair needs cutting. Actually I usually wait till I have other things I need to do there, so my hair is generally pretty long by the time I get round to it. The barber does a good job, but takes forever over it - going back over the same areas several times, and then cutting a bit more off.
This brings me to something I have found over the years - the different cutting styles between male and female barbers (hairdressers, if you like). Barbers over the years have tended to cut with a combination of comb and scissors, using the comb to control the depth of cut (and also using "serrated" scissors to thin out hair), while hairdressers tend to gather the hair between two fingers and use that as their "depth stop". On occasion I have used a hairdresser for convenience - once we had one in our village, and another used to come to the house to cut my wife's hair, and I have also waited in hairdressers for my wife or mother so seen how they cut.
The barbers I have been to in Brazil have all cut "hairdresser" style - but as very few tradesmen have any formal training I actually wonder if they have learnt their craft from mothers, wives or girlfriends (or just watching them cut!!) so that is why, rather than that this is the normal barber methodology of Brazil. I went to a barber here in Peru yesterday, and he was old-school, barber-style cutting and extremely efficient (and at 10 Peruvian soles, around £2.10, very reasonable!). I actually came out looking neat and tidy, but not looking as though I had just had my haircut!
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