Try crossing that after a few too many!
Waking in a mad dash with a forthcoming jet of piss at that painful point of no return. I was REALLY wasted last night and now as I fumble with this jarred zip I wonder if there is a worse place to let loose than in a tiny tent containing all your worldly belongings for the foreseeable future. I try the other zip and with its opening on first try I´m presented with the sight of one solitary, soggy looking boot..(?).. I had two of those before.
Struggling with my memory and the clues presented to me as I make my way to the main house where I´ll prepare some breakfast and perhaps find my phone, I pass my only pair of trousers lying dirty and soaking wet on the ground. This makes me wonder if I really want to know and when I find my fleece jacket close by in similar condition I decide probably not.
As per the norm, once you´ve made up your mind that you don´t want to remember, your memory starts to kick back.
“More wine, why not”?
Stagger, stumble, SPLASH!
Later on I´m informed more and this does help immensely combined with the wearing off of my self-induced headache.
Turns out I did actually make it across that tiny piece of wood we call a bridge that doubles up as an impregnable obstacle on the way to my tent. Not even my tent really which would have made it all the more harrowing/funny if I hadn´t got that zip open in time!
So I made it across I´m told then stumbled back a little and fell a fucker into the water below.
I remember now. I remember sitting laughing so hard as I sat soaking wet after being lifted out by Clement –French guy who´s come to visit for a few weeks-. Haven´t laughed so hard in a long, long time and understandably so did he. Maybe not aware of my missing phone and boot or maybe during the moment this actually just adds to how funny it all is, but fuck did we laugh!
“Getting you out the first time was easy, but the second..”
Wait, I fell in again!?
“No.. You went back in to get your phone.”
Two days my phone and boot lived at the bottom of that water and with this being a delta wherein the water levels are lowered and raised dramatically due to wind direction then I guess I should really count myself lucky that there was water down there that night to break my fall, but I can´t wait any longer though and so in I go one more time for a thorough search and whadaya know? I found my phone!
Are you a believer in miracles? Do you want to guess what happened? Does my phone still work? Does it fuck, it was submerged in water and sludge for two days. I can see water floating behind the screen however.. The SD card survived! My SD card that held about two thousand photos and videos. Time to buy a USB card and save that shit. Sooo fucking happy to get it all back. Took around two weeks for my boot, once found, to get back to being wearable again and spent the next week drying my jacket and trousers but from what I hear it was one damned fine night on the Delta.
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In a boat on the river Parana.. Not in the mood for a swim right now!
I ask while standing waiting for the boat “How long till I get here”? –pointing at the address I´ve been emailed-.
“Tres horas.” 3 hours
I´d been expecting twenty minutes or something, but hey I can handle remote. This will be different anyway. This much we can be sure of.
The boat –something like a barge- winds its way through narrow still waters and past a vast array of stunning and startling little houses including one completely encased in glass which I´d later learn belonged to a previous President but now is used as a museum. We also pass a half-submerged, old cruise boat. Encouraging!
After three hours I jump on to a small dock where I´m met by Nacho. I climb aboard his small boat and he rows for another thirty minutes until we reach his place. Now this is remote!
Instantly I´m eaten alive by mosquitoes like never before. I thought I´d be used to it after Bonito, but Hell no this is unlike anything anywhere in terms of these carnivorous little fuckers. My whole body burns!
Waking the next morning I find my tent, which is on a raised wooden platform, completely surrounded by water. This small island floods apparently and quite a lot it turns out. Interesting.
There´s a large wooden house between where my tent is and where Nachos small house is and this is where we prepare food, work sometimes and hangout when it´s too cold. It´s a truly amazing place so tranquil and away from everything. I love it here, I love being out of reach from the rest of the world where I´m left to get on with jobs such as varnishing the floors of the main house, widening the forest path and gathering wood for the fire we have to build to keep those mosquitoes down but also so we can have a nice wee barbeque at night while star gazing and knocking back the wine.
I could get used to this part of the world. If I thought the tropical desert island Aruba was remote then this place is something else with being approximately one thousand meters in length and a population of just two. I discover mate (South American tea) and become part of the furniture.
. . .
A group of Argie´s would descend on the first weekend to help with the insulation of a mud hut. It´s a nice wee project and a pretty cool bunch of people. A chance to learn some Spanish perhaps or just a chance to do something stupid?
That night I make my way back to the little tent and discover quite abruptly that I really need a big poo. My dilemma being that it´s late, dark and the girls are all sleeping in the room I´d have to pass through to take my big smelly dump.
In the woods and pointing my torch down while in position to make sure I don’t shit on the back of my shorts I proceed with my endeavours only to hear the unmistakable sound of a girl’s voice. “Andy”? Surely not. I decide to dismiss the unmistakable sound as being just my imagination and continue with what I´m doing. I later look back and think ´Fuck, that was definitely a girls voice. Really, really close and she must have saw me having a shit and even pointing/highlighting at it with my torch! Well done Andy!
During my daily mission to prepare some porridge the next morning I find the gas canister empty. Being a master of fire by now I begin to gather some wet wood. Surrounded by water and armed with only a few shit matches I start to lose faith.
Help arrives in the form of someone I´m sure saw me last night at my most vulnerable and she arrives with a bountiful supply of paper to help start this fire. Toilet paper..Used toilet paper.
She´d found the toilet bucket from upstairs and I´m unsure as to whether she knows what this is or not, but she´s digging her hands right in there and placing it under my breakfast!
I refuse to touch that shit -literal-, but I´m breathing it in while crouching down to blow on the flames and get this porridge made. I think the others who soon came to help made the connection from the empty toilet bucket and the paper burning on the fire because about a platoon worth of porridge is now between two!
Own captions please..
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I wrote about this a while ago, but it’s nice to have the video evidence. Evidence that I really am that stupid.. Bit harsh but I’ll say it before someone else does! Watch till the end as I get what I deserve after about 1 minute.
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Half dressed for the occasion..
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My second day begins with one looong hot shower and by fuck am I enjoying this, but before the entire water supply of Buenos Aires comes to an end. I decide to finish up, shave, eat and hit the streets to see what pleasures this fine day has in store.
This is the noise of the hot water tap coming off the wall in my hand complete with connections to the hot water supply its self.
The sound of a naked, Scottish, burning man trying desperately to put the tap back on again and succeeding only in directing the flow of said burning water point blank into my face. It won’t fit. How the hell did it fit in the first place? This needs welded or something, but what do I do right now? Stand here and continue pretending that I know what I’m doing. Yes that’s what to do. Thankfully there is someone in the next shower who comes to help.. To stand and watch.
“I´ll get someone”. Great idea, thanks man. Three more arrive to help.. To watch.
This must be like watching a really good big brother show or something with my growing audience, but this water is scolding hot and I´m not doing too well here. Still just pretending to know what I`m doing but I can´t stop and turn around because I´m still bollock fucking naked -like that’s ever bothered me-! Viewer/Woman who owns the place: “I´ll turn the water off at the mains”. Thank you, oh God my face is burning!
Water stays off for the rest of the day and night until the plumber can come fix his shit job -it´s happened before apparently- so no longer do I feel quite so silly, but it doesn´t really make me any more popular with the twenty plus others who have no hot water till sometime tomorrow. That’s if Super Mario even puts in an appearance. Well at least I got a good shower, Hell a damned good shower, an event even. Spectator’s event as it happened!
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Won’t forget this city anytime soon!
Woken from a half comatose slumber by the hand of a middle-aged woman punching down on my face as she trips over on her way up the aisle in an effort to reach the bathroom. “EEEUUUHHH”?!
Thanks’, so glad one of us found that funny.
Arriving in Buenas Aires and I have never seen anything like it. The place is overflowing with Hells Angels and not just a host of Angels – or chapter- but a fucking full on invasion with not one motorbike in sight!
I´m in an area near Plaza De Mayo called San Nicolas and passed by small squadrons of them at every corner, cafe, restaurant, jumping out taxi´s fully loaded with suitcases and even out strolling through the parks. I´m later informed that it´s some kind of annual gathering -of course, it´s Easter weekend and we know how much those naughty bikers love the Easter Bunny- and every one of them look like Auld Nick might have shat them out himself, but if you think I´m taking pictures guess again. My knee-caps feel pretty good right where they are!
Dropping my bags of at a cheap hostel recommended by a google search just fifteen minutes ago, I step outside for a wee gander at what this world renound city has to offer.
With souvenirs purchased (no hanging around) and check list complete for my up and coming Delta adventure -What the fuck is a Delta?-, I`m approached by one cute young student handing out flyers and asking if I´d be interested in visiting this interesting bar where I can have a relaxing beer and massage.
Hmm, after a twenty four hour bus journey..
Tell me more.
I´m led to the club which lies at the bottom of a flight of stairs in some shitty little back alley, but tastefully decorated inside although really small. There is just enough room for a bar and two comfy couches sitting across from each other at the far end of the room -less than a meter from the bar.
Within this room there be company. Company in the form of the old owner, not that old really, old cleaner -really has seen better days, although maybe not-, butch girl as the hired heavy or hired hairy, girl I came in with -quite hot, educated, early twenties and another similar looking girl but with a bit of a squint face like she`s been hit with a shovel or had a stroke. Both perfectly do-able and hospitable. VERY hospitable!
I didn´t really know what this place was going to be like, a beer AND a massage (Captain Naive), but it soon becomes clear when both girls sit either side of me and start to ask me bullshit questions while stroking fingers through my hair, crossing legs within my own and groping at my l arms. They have my pants around my ankles in moments and I´m now getting wanked off on front of the whole staff.
I get it now.
Hold the bus. Before we go any further, how much is this costing me?
“Don’t worry about that, this feels good yes”?
No, well yes but I´m not Mr fucking Money and I don`t wanna get stung and have to beat your hired fatty once I`m done here. So again, how much do I owe in total right now?
“310 pesos per girl for the show -I find that I`ve just had the show- if you want more it´ll be 800”.
800 pesos in total, for EVERYTHING?
Ok, fuck the show. I´m going to the bank and when I come back we´ll get this on.
Accompanied to the cash machine by Shamu, I´m told while taking out the cash that I need to take out more. Do I fuck! I´ve already paid 700 – price changed from 620 for both girls to 700 when I handed over 7 one hundred peso notes-.
“You paid for the show. If you want more it´s and extra 800 for each girl”.
Eh, no. I`m horney as fuck, but not stupid as fuck. I´ll let them know I´ve had fun, it´s all been a very pleasant experience for me and one hell of an introduction to Buenos Aires but it all stops here. I´m European but NOT rich.
I enter the bar once more fully expecting a hoard of abuse. Sexual abuse if they wish, but I aint paying for it. After explaining to the girls I then have to repeat my predicament to the boss.
“How much have you got now”?
“You still have to pay for the girls drinks.”
How much is that?
Haha, course it is! I pay up and leave on good terms getting friendly hugs from everyone as I leave including the cleaner who had while watching me getting jerked off, suggested jokingly that I could have her for free. For a second I consider this.
I stop halfway down the street to check my shopping bags for my mobile. It´s not there. FUCK!
Chest puffed out and ready to fight, I march back in and explain that my phones no longer in the bag I´d left here while out at the cash machine. Maybe it fell out the bag while I was here, but I´m not leaving until it`s found.
We look around a clearly empty phoneless, small floor.
“Check your bag again.”
I don´t have to.
“Just take everything out and make sure”.
I do and woops!
Blimp, The Hired Hairy: “See, they might be sluts but they`re not thieves!”
Ohhh, that didn´t go down well with the others. I escape back out into the street before the possible bloodbath begins and this is still just my first day in Buenos Aires!
Into the bathroom I go, back at the hostel and still unsure as to how I should feel about this recent incident. Relieved to have my phone, stupid at spending so much in such a short time on my first day (not that much really 13.46 Pesos – 1 British Pound), amused at the whole thing and frustrated that I just walked away from sex with two stunners.
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I make my way towards Rio where I´ll meet a friend who´s arriving in Brazil quite soon and from there after a week or so I have plans to live on the delta islands near Buenos Aires. A journey not to be sniffed at.
My ass settles down for the next forty eight hours on a bollock cold coach from Recife to Rio De Janero ,1869km/1162 miles and it doesn´t take much scoping around to take in the fact that this could be one very interesting bus trip.
I have less than half a seat thanks to the beluga next to me, but given the fact I´m the only idiot on the bus to not think of bringing a duvet or even a jumper and trousers for that matter, then this might not be such a bad thing.
What’s with the air con on your busses? Cold enough to freeze a penguins nuts off!
So, perched next to fatty and presented with an odor much to my disliking coming from across the aisle wafting from the bum of a baby and young couple. That’s what I need, a smelly baby all the way to Rio. A smelly crying baby but no, all the noise for the next 2 days would emanate from the seats directly behind me. What the fuck is going on back there?!
#Insert loud rasping noises..
I´m spooning tonight. Kind off forced to but I´m not complaining as the leg that’s trapped between her bum cheeks is feeling quite toasty, but I really hope to Hell she doesn´t fart. The rest of my body is blue.
During the night we stop for a rest and some nibbles. I scan the menu and only recognize the word for cheese. “Dos queijo fatia por favor”, she smiles, writes a receipt, takes my money and sends me towards the opposite counter where my order will be prepared. Something about that smile, a knowing smile. A ´Hey Gringo, you´ve fucked up”, kinda smile.
I inspect my two slabs of cheese. “What the fuck´s this”?
What do I want two large slabs of cheese for, did I ask for.. Shit, I just asked for two big slabs of cheese didn´t I?
Everyone´s loving this moment, everyone except for me. I just want to eat, be warm and sleep. Maybe I can laugh about this later but right now I´m finding it hard to look happy. I explain with wild hand gestures and finger pointing. Relieved of my cheese I take my hamburger and proceed to a table where I can eat in peace.
“#Rasp.. NAAAARRRGGG, WOOOOOOP”!
Called over to the table of noise and human beat box from Hell. They hold up a liter of beer and extra glass and so I join them.
A little guilty now that I know one of them is deaf and therefore can´t hear just how loud he is and I begin to drink with them for the next 40 odd hours.
It would go like this; I buy a beer for the three of us -big beers I might add-. They, between them buy a beer for the three of us. I buy one, they buy one between them but for the three of us. I´m getting fucked here, in a group of three it shouldn´t be my round every second time. They give me some food, shitest food in Brazil. Hold on. I can see what’s happening, It´s the old ´We got you some food back there so now that we´re in a place with good food, we´ll cash in on the whole Your turn.’ I stop leaving the bus and stay on board as I don´t want to taken for a fool and I´m running out of money anyway. They bring me more food.
As we enter Rio and I disembark I begin to realize that I am indeed a cunt. These two seemingly thuggish football hooligans (complete with Flamengo football tatts) have been feeding and drinking with me all the way and not asked for a thing in return while I sat full of assumptions and accusations. They invite me to drink with them at their friend’s house for a few days. Fuck that, dodgy fuckin scum!
. . .
Rio might be one of the visually spectacular cities in the world and it´s great to be exploring it with a good friend that I´ve not seen for a while, we laugh harder than I have for some time and live like Kings briefly, but we can´t stay too long. It´s expensive here and we must be getting on. We make our way towards Iguaçu Falls for a few days before I continue with my South American adventure while Jack returns to Rio where awaits a job in a hostel.
Iguaçu Falls is something to behold. Can photos do this place justice? Done Jacks camera no justice as the spray of water coming from one of the eight wonders of the world proved too much. Jack loves his shit being wet and so let the bottle of water in his bag leak and fuck up his passport, return ticket and mobile phone too.. No luck Jack, no luck at all!
Again I laughed like I haven’t done for a while.
Waterproofing your camera.. Remember you have it in a condom for when pulling it out to tell someone the time!
I have bared witness to some stupid things in the past;
“How do you tell the male donkeys from the female”?
“Which one´s the moon”? While star gazing.
“Do you speak English in the UK”?
I´m not immune to a few clangers myself like when I told someone the word rough was spelt R U F F, asking the sexy nurse while stitching my arm if she comes here often and while on the topic of a small islands problem with inbreeding I asked “Is that illegal here”? So yes, I can be stupid too but fucking nothing compares to the pure stupidity of some I´ve encountered here? *Matter of opinion maybe.
In a bar pointing at a beer and asking “Cerveca por favor”. Confusion looms across the face of the fat bitch serving then actually spreads to the rest of the clientele gathered in this dump. I repeat and continue to point at one of only three types of beer they sell. I know I´m not pronouncing this right. I´m using Spanish in a Portuguese speaking country, but I know I´m not so far off the mark and my gesturing is making it pretty fucking obvious as to what it is I´m looking for. Come on, in a bar pointing at a beer. Do you think I´m asking to see you´re finest Persian rug?
Fuck it, I get out the ole phrase book and point at the Portuguese word for beer.. pronounced cervesha.”Ahh, CERVEJA. Nao cerveca!” Said with an air of authority after it took her a minute and a half to read and understand her own fucking language.
You are kidding me. Really, none of you -five by this time- had any idea what I was trying to ask for?
Are you physically capable of stretching out a hand and giving me that beer or will your head just explode? A good job you don´t have a menu or I´d be here all fucking day -or just go to bar not run by idiots.
My time in Brasil is coming to a close and what a time it´s been. Did spend my first two weeks using the wrong word for toilet though. Thought the place was a bit mental when I´d first arrived on the scene and asked where the toilet was in a bar I´d been drinking in only to be told “Not here, maybe in a hostel”.
Started to get a little upset with people eventually after finding out there were no bars in town that had toilets. No toilets? Where am I supposed to piss, on the wall outside? One day I mimed the act of peeing and found that what I´d been asking for was a shower. Ah, that explains the funny looks I´d received while in search of the bogs!
Bar of the year..
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