Last night I went to hear John Cairney talking about Robert Louis Stevenson at the Central Library here in Edinburgh. John Cairney is one of Scotland's finest actors, best known for his Robert Burns shows on TV and stage in Scotland and all round the world. I still remember him doing his Rabbie on TV, in fact it's one of my earliest TV memories, that and watching westerns on my late auntie's TV on a Saturday night, much to my father's annoyance at the time.
John Cairney is now a very young eighty three years, looking more like sixty three, and still able to hold his audience mesmerised and enthralled by his performance. There were a few moments when you could hear the silence, he said himself at the end that "we had two minutes of heaven tonight". I could have listened to him all night.
He described his performance as a threnody for RLS, which I suppose sums it up nicely. RLS was Scotland's finest wordsmith, as good as, if not better than Burns even, and one of our greatest contributions to world culture, one of many of course, too long to list here. But I'm sure you could produce your own very long list. He was a writer, poet, novelist, dramatist, travel writer, children's writer and essayist. He travelled the world in search of good health and finally settled in Samoa, where he was known as "Tusitala" or "Teller of Tales". He died there 1894.
The first poem I ever learnt by heart was his poem "The Lamplighter" and when I close my eyes and think about it now I can still feel the same thrill as I felt as a wee boy, reading it and wondering who Leerie was and if I would ever get to meet him. Well I met a few Leeries in my time, but I'm still waiting to meet the real one. Maybe someday he'll be there lighting the lamps in Morningside.
RLS loved The Pentlands and owned a house in Swanston, a village lying in the foothills, where he spent his summers until eventually he left Scotland forever. I have a view of those Pentland Hills from my apartment here in Edinburgh, and often think of him wondering about up there and writing his stories about Balfour and the rest and maybe he even wrote The Lamplighter there, although more probably at 17 Heriot Row, "with a lamp before the door".
So a very enjoyable evening was had by all, and we chatted with John afterwards and he signed a copy of his new book about RLS for us all. John now lives in Auckland, New Zealand, and his book is partly based on a PhD on RLS he completed at Victoria University, Wellington.
Tonight for a complete change I'm going to see Silver Linings Playbook, I'm told it's hugely funny. So lets see. De Niro is always worth seeing. But lets finish with a wee quote from RLS on Edinburgh:
"Beautiful as she is, she is not so much beautiful as interesting. She is pre-eminently Gothic, and all the more since she has set herself off with some Greek airs, and erected classic temples on her crags. In a word and above all, she is a curiosity."
Friday, November 30, 2012
Monday, November 26, 2012
Early Roman Kings
You may recall that in my last post I asked "who were the Early Roman Kings". I was delighted to receive an email from my good friend George which I'm sure he won't mind me quoting from here, as it's rather amusing.
George is a classics scholar, Gaelic scholar, cellist and intellectual. We've been friends since we met at a New Years celebration about thirty years ago, when we had partaken of a little whisky together and put the world to rights. As I recall it was an all nighter, which neither of us could manage ever again. Anyway here is George's reply to my question:
"From memory: Romulus, Numa Pompillius, Ancus Martius, Servius, Tarquinius Priscus, Tarquinius Superbus. Could be one other??"
And knowing George these will be from memory. Thank you George this is all very helpful; educating the people as always. I like the Superbus one. A fine name for a king. I wonder if there was a Supertram as well? Probably not.
Needless to say George is not one of Bob Dylan's greatest fans. And for those of you who likewise are not followers of his Bobness, I should maybe point out that Early Roman Kings is a track on Bob's latest CD, "Tempest", the seventh track as I recall. One of the best tracks on there, and Dylan showing off his own classical scholarship, or something. Who knows with Bob. Just genius.
I went to see "The Master" at the weekend. What a performance from Joaquin Phoenix, chilling, extraordinary, definitely an Oscar winning performance. I never knew the man had it in him, best thing he's ever done and makes one look forward to many more performances like this. The film is worth seeing for him alone, playing a man damaged by his wartime experiences and the powerful way he is able to show us how war leaves even the survivors as victims. Fine acting as usual by Phillip Seymour Hoffman, playing the cult leader, but obviously just as disturbed as the Joaquin character. Go see if only for Joaquin's performance, and if he doesn't win an Oscar, I will eat my hat, or would do if I wore one.
George is a classics scholar, Gaelic scholar, cellist and intellectual. We've been friends since we met at a New Years celebration about thirty years ago, when we had partaken of a little whisky together and put the world to rights. As I recall it was an all nighter, which neither of us could manage ever again. Anyway here is George's reply to my question:
"From memory: Romulus, Numa Pompillius, Ancus Martius, Servius, Tarquinius Priscus, Tarquinius Superbus. Could be one other??"
And knowing George these will be from memory. Thank you George this is all very helpful; educating the people as always. I like the Superbus one. A fine name for a king. I wonder if there was a Supertram as well? Probably not.
Needless to say George is not one of Bob Dylan's greatest fans. And for those of you who likewise are not followers of his Bobness, I should maybe point out that Early Roman Kings is a track on Bob's latest CD, "Tempest", the seventh track as I recall. One of the best tracks on there, and Dylan showing off his own classical scholarship, or something. Who knows with Bob. Just genius.
I went to see "The Master" at the weekend. What a performance from Joaquin Phoenix, chilling, extraordinary, definitely an Oscar winning performance. I never knew the man had it in him, best thing he's ever done and makes one look forward to many more performances like this. The film is worth seeing for him alone, playing a man damaged by his wartime experiences and the powerful way he is able to show us how war leaves even the survivors as victims. Fine acting as usual by Phillip Seymour Hoffman, playing the cult leader, but obviously just as disturbed as the Joaquin character. Go see if only for Joaquin's performance, and if he doesn't win an Oscar, I will eat my hat, or would do if I wore one.
Friday, November 23, 2012
Mirrors
Dylan's new album is playing in the other room, hope not too loudly, but it's early morning so neighbours should be at work. I don't have hifi in this room, just my laptop, so prefer to play Bob in other room with doors open and listen away as I write. He still writes the best love songs and blues, just no-one there to match him. I sometimes wonder why I bother buying anyone else's music; well almost wonder.
I shall have to write about all the books I've been reading this year some day soon, but meantime thought I should mention Eduardo Galeano's book "Mirrors" which I've been reading on and off for a few months now. It's a book you can pick up anytime and start in the middle or wherever takes your fancy. It's his version of the history of the world told in mini episodes or fragments. He is incredibly erudite, how he finds the time to read all this stuff and then to write it all is a mystery.
John Pilger says " he is the enemy of lies, indifference, above all forgetfulness...... his tenderness is devastating, his truthfulness furious". I couldn't have put it better myself John. His best known book is "Open Veins of Latin America", a must read for anyone who cares about the history of that part of the world, and how it's been exploited to ruination by the west. If you are planning to visit that part of the world don't go without first reading Galeano. Or take him with you.
He tells the story of Iqbal, a boy in Pakistan in the 1990s, who was sold by his parents when he was aged four for fifteen dollars. " He was bought by a rug maker. He worked chained to the loom fourteen hours a day. At the age of ten. Iqbal was a hunchback with the lungs of an old man. Then he escaped and became the spokesman for Pakistan's child slaves. In 1995, when he was twelve years old, a fatal bullet knocked him from his bicycle."
When I read this I couldn't help but think of Basilio in Cusco, a boy I met and worked with at La Policia de la Familia. He too had been sold by his father into slavery and escaped to live on the streets of Cusco till the police picked him up and took him to La Policia de la Familia. I've told his story in this blog a few years ago. He ended up in an orphanage and then a few weeks later a police woman and I took him back to his village, a few hours drive from Cusco. But they weren't prepared to take him back, so back to Cusco we had to go, to find his place in the orphanage gone, so back to La Policia he went. I often wonder what became of him. He was a fighter so I'm sure he survived. Maybe some day I will find out.
Anyway Galeano has lots more to tell. Must tell you about the Spanish footballer called Bebel Garcia, socialist, anti fascist, anti Franco, played for Depor, at the age of twenty one, stands before the firing squad, and tells them to hold on a minute, opens his fly, button by button, and facing the firing squad takes a long piss. Then he buttons up and says "go ahead". There's another version online of this story in which he calls the officer over and when he gets close he pisses on his shoes, and is quickly shot. Whichever is true it's an inspiring story. Can you imagine any of today's players in that situation? Well maybe Wayne would do it......
Who were/are the "Early Roman Kings" ?
I shall have to write about all the books I've been reading this year some day soon, but meantime thought I should mention Eduardo Galeano's book "Mirrors" which I've been reading on and off for a few months now. It's a book you can pick up anytime and start in the middle or wherever takes your fancy. It's his version of the history of the world told in mini episodes or fragments. He is incredibly erudite, how he finds the time to read all this stuff and then to write it all is a mystery.
John Pilger says " he is the enemy of lies, indifference, above all forgetfulness...... his tenderness is devastating, his truthfulness furious". I couldn't have put it better myself John. His best known book is "Open Veins of Latin America", a must read for anyone who cares about the history of that part of the world, and how it's been exploited to ruination by the west. If you are planning to visit that part of the world don't go without first reading Galeano. Or take him with you.
He tells the story of Iqbal, a boy in Pakistan in the 1990s, who was sold by his parents when he was aged four for fifteen dollars. " He was bought by a rug maker. He worked chained to the loom fourteen hours a day. At the age of ten. Iqbal was a hunchback with the lungs of an old man. Then he escaped and became the spokesman for Pakistan's child slaves. In 1995, when he was twelve years old, a fatal bullet knocked him from his bicycle."
When I read this I couldn't help but think of Basilio in Cusco, a boy I met and worked with at La Policia de la Familia. He too had been sold by his father into slavery and escaped to live on the streets of Cusco till the police picked him up and took him to La Policia de la Familia. I've told his story in this blog a few years ago. He ended up in an orphanage and then a few weeks later a police woman and I took him back to his village, a few hours drive from Cusco. But they weren't prepared to take him back, so back to Cusco we had to go, to find his place in the orphanage gone, so back to La Policia he went. I often wonder what became of him. He was a fighter so I'm sure he survived. Maybe some day I will find out.
Anyway Galeano has lots more to tell. Must tell you about the Spanish footballer called Bebel Garcia, socialist, anti fascist, anti Franco, played for Depor, at the age of twenty one, stands before the firing squad, and tells them to hold on a minute, opens his fly, button by button, and facing the firing squad takes a long piss. Then he buttons up and says "go ahead". There's another version online of this story in which he calls the officer over and when he gets close he pisses on his shoes, and is quickly shot. Whichever is true it's an inspiring story. Can you imagine any of today's players in that situation? Well maybe Wayne would do it......
Who were/are the "Early Roman Kings" ?
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Amour
I guess it's time to be writing again, now that I'm back home in Edinburgh. I'm sitting at my desk with a view to The Pentland Hills from the window behind me and the newish moon hanging up there over the Hills reassuringly. And life goes on. I remember a few weeks ago watching the new moon rising over Cuzco and thinking of being home in Scotland and now here I am thinking about being back in Cuzco. But I do wish that Cuzco wasn't so high up in the sky and so much nearer to the moon. Or is it? And so life goes on. But I do wish it would slow down sometimes and give me a chance to catch up with all that happens.
A few days ago I went to see "Amour" at The Filmhouse. Truly a great movie, one of the best I've seen for a very long time. Simply superb. It's a film by Michael Haneke and is a story of love, illness, compassion, caring, end of life and death. Sounds grim I know but its not like that at all. It's life affirming in fact. Devastatingly and totally believable.
Magnificent performances by Jean-Louis Trintignant and Emmanuelle Riva, playing the two octogenarians facing up to life's travails together, acting of the highest quality. Some very funny moments and some enchanting bits, as when they come home from a concert and he turns to her and says " You were looking very pretty tonight". ( you look wonderful tonight as Mr Clapton said once upon a time). Some shocking bits too, but you will have to go and see the movie to find out about those. This movie will make you want to live life to the full, and treasure every moment of it, whatever that may mean in your life and hopefully at the end your memories will see you safe.
The film brought back some difficult memories to me of caring for my father as he died. The last few days of his life were distressing for him and for my mother and in a lesser way for me. I knew for a long time that he was dying, as did he, and sometimes, I have to admit I wished he would get on with it. His last night alive was the worst of all as he was so disturbed. At midnight we (my mother and I) decided to call the doctor. The young doctor who arrived shall remain nameless. He asked my mother and my aunt, who was also there for some reason, known only to herself, to go to bed.
So it was just him, my father and me. He gave my father a morphine jag, but this didn't calm him down, so he gave him another one. It's hard to describe my father's behaviour as he was so very disturbed, so much so that the second dose of morphine failed to calm him down. I then realised that the doctor was making sure that my father would die peacefully, in fact a mercy killing I suppose. So he gave him a third injection. I often think about this night and what happened. I think the doctor did the right thing, but I know my father would not have wanted it. So who knows, or can tell what is right in these circumstances.
The doctor stayed with us for an hour by which time my father was sleeping soundly, or unconscious, i don't know which. But he was at peace. I spent the night with him and didn't go to bed, just sat there with him and probably had a cigarette or two as he lay there. So many things I wanted to tell him but now couldn't. So I told him anyway, I'm sure he would have been shocked, amazed had he been able to hear some of the things I told him. Nowadays I like to think that he did hear me and told me all was well.
He died the next day. Having spent the night with him I went to bed about 9 o'clock in the morning. I got up for dinner later that afternoon. Went in to see him for half an hour or so, then went for dinner. When I went back to see him, he had died alone. I was angry with him for being so selfish and not letting me be with him when he finally passed away. Stupid I know. I should have been annoyed with someone else, maybe god?
That's a long story brought on by the movie. I shall probably go back to see it. I highly recommend it.
I hope those of you who have been checking my blog since I left Peru and not seen any posts will forgive me, but it's taken a few days to adjust to life back in UK. Hope this post makes up for it and shall be posting regularly in future.
A few days ago I went to see "Amour" at The Filmhouse. Truly a great movie, one of the best I've seen for a very long time. Simply superb. It's a film by Michael Haneke and is a story of love, illness, compassion, caring, end of life and death. Sounds grim I know but its not like that at all. It's life affirming in fact. Devastatingly and totally believable.
Magnificent performances by Jean-Louis Trintignant and Emmanuelle Riva, playing the two octogenarians facing up to life's travails together, acting of the highest quality. Some very funny moments and some enchanting bits, as when they come home from a concert and he turns to her and says " You were looking very pretty tonight". ( you look wonderful tonight as Mr Clapton said once upon a time). Some shocking bits too, but you will have to go and see the movie to find out about those. This movie will make you want to live life to the full, and treasure every moment of it, whatever that may mean in your life and hopefully at the end your memories will see you safe.
The film brought back some difficult memories to me of caring for my father as he died. The last few days of his life were distressing for him and for my mother and in a lesser way for me. I knew for a long time that he was dying, as did he, and sometimes, I have to admit I wished he would get on with it. His last night alive was the worst of all as he was so disturbed. At midnight we (my mother and I) decided to call the doctor. The young doctor who arrived shall remain nameless. He asked my mother and my aunt, who was also there for some reason, known only to herself, to go to bed.
So it was just him, my father and me. He gave my father a morphine jag, but this didn't calm him down, so he gave him another one. It's hard to describe my father's behaviour as he was so very disturbed, so much so that the second dose of morphine failed to calm him down. I then realised that the doctor was making sure that my father would die peacefully, in fact a mercy killing I suppose. So he gave him a third injection. I often think about this night and what happened. I think the doctor did the right thing, but I know my father would not have wanted it. So who knows, or can tell what is right in these circumstances.
The doctor stayed with us for an hour by which time my father was sleeping soundly, or unconscious, i don't know which. But he was at peace. I spent the night with him and didn't go to bed, just sat there with him and probably had a cigarette or two as he lay there. So many things I wanted to tell him but now couldn't. So I told him anyway, I'm sure he would have been shocked, amazed had he been able to hear some of the things I told him. Nowadays I like to think that he did hear me and told me all was well.
He died the next day. Having spent the night with him I went to bed about 9 o'clock in the morning. I got up for dinner later that afternoon. Went in to see him for half an hour or so, then went for dinner. When I went back to see him, he had died alone. I was angry with him for being so selfish and not letting me be with him when he finally passed away. Stupid I know. I should have been annoyed with someone else, maybe god?
That's a long story brought on by the movie. I shall probably go back to see it. I highly recommend it.
I hope those of you who have been checking my blog since I left Peru and not seen any posts will forgive me, but it's taken a few days to adjust to life back in UK. Hope this post makes up for it and shall be posting regularly in future.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Remembrance Sunday
Back home two days now and all well here in a not too cold Edinburgh. Still the same old Edinburgh and my hills are still there every morning, not that I expected otherwise. They are faithful old hills, The Pentlands, always there to keep an eye on things for me. Think I shall ask my friend Neville to walk along the ridge with me some day soon. He's a mountaineer who has climbed in The Andes so I'm sure he would love to do the Pentlands again. What do you reckon Neville? Are you still reading my blog? See you Tuesday night anyway.
Tomorrow is Remembrance Sunday, 11th of November. We shall have 2 minutes silence at 11 am. I will be thinking about my uncle Alex John Maciver, my father's brother, who was killed in action on 31st October 1940 in the North Sea. He was aged just 20 years. I will post a blog about his death later this year. I'm waiting for more information from National Archives. Not that they have a huge amount.
I will also be thinking about my father, who survived the war, but had some terrible experiences, as well as losing his young brother. He was 22 when he lost his brother. He rarely mentioned the war or his brother's death. I often wonder how much these things affected him in later life. I didn't take the time to ask him when he was alive, and now regret it. I should have been more inquisitive, but it was never easy to ask him about what happened to him and his brother. Maybe it accounts for lots of things in his life that were a puzzle.
So tomorrow is for both of them, and all the other men from Isle of Lewis who were lost, and not forgetting my late aunt's service in North Africa and elsewhere throughout the war.
Tomorrow is Remembrance Sunday, 11th of November. We shall have 2 minutes silence at 11 am. I will be thinking about my uncle Alex John Maciver, my father's brother, who was killed in action on 31st October 1940 in the North Sea. He was aged just 20 years. I will post a blog about his death later this year. I'm waiting for more information from National Archives. Not that they have a huge amount.
I will also be thinking about my father, who survived the war, but had some terrible experiences, as well as losing his young brother. He was 22 when he lost his brother. He rarely mentioned the war or his brother's death. I often wonder how much these things affected him in later life. I didn't take the time to ask him when he was alive, and now regret it. I should have been more inquisitive, but it was never easy to ask him about what happened to him and his brother. Maybe it accounts for lots of things in his life that were a puzzle.
So tomorrow is for both of them, and all the other men from Isle of Lewis who were lost, and not forgetting my late aunt's service in North Africa and elsewhere throughout the war.
Thursday, November 08, 2012
Homeward Bound
Here I am in Amsterdam, Schipol Airport, with five hours to while away until my flight back to Edinburgh leaves at 21:15. So might as well spend a few minutes on my blog or at least until the one hour of free Internet access so generously provided by the Dutch is exhausted, or I'm exhausted, whichever comes first. Probably my exhaustion, though I did manage a few hours sleep on the overnight flight from Lima. We had a medical emergency on board but I think he survived ok. They found a doctor and gave him some oxygen, so hopefully he's going to be home safe and sound by now, unless of course like me he's connecting here for home airport.
Airports are not great places to be wasting a few hours in, and they seem to be the same wherever you go,excep Stornoway airport which is a law unto itself. So many people, you have to wonder what they all get up to on their travels?
I had this strange woman sitting beside me on the flight from Lima. Usually you dread having someone of large proportions sitting next to you. But she was just a skinny thing but she wanted lots of space, including mine. She kept pushing my elbow out of the way, every time I tried to rest it on the shared armrest. She was a bitter old woman. She fell asleep so I gave her a good slap. Well no I didn't but I was lose to it. While she was sleeping in the middle of the night the cabin crew brought some snacks for us and I had some ice cream, at 3:15 am! Anyway her husband had a sandwich but didn't bother to wake her up. He probably felt the same as me, let her sleep and give us peace. She woke up when the cabin crew were away. She was furious with him and seemed to imply that I was somehow culpable too. She gave him a good talking to and seemed to think that he should go in search of the crew, which I'm glad to say he refused to do. Unfortunately they came back round so she got her snack. Usually one makes an effort to chat to fellow passengers but not with this one.
I've noticed that Schipol are timingmy access time and have only few minutes left.
So will close this post for now and go back to reading Molloy,which I've read a few times now but is always like a new experience every time. Such is Mr Beckett. I think in fact I may have quoted from him in the past in this blog. Maybe the bit about his method of communicating with his mother, with knocks on the head, one tap for yes, two for no, etc. I'm sure you know the drill by now.
Will write more re my trip once I'm home. All for now.
Airports are not great places to be wasting a few hours in, and they seem to be the same wherever you go,excep Stornoway airport which is a law unto itself. So many people, you have to wonder what they all get up to on their travels?
I had this strange woman sitting beside me on the flight from Lima. Usually you dread having someone of large proportions sitting next to you. But she was just a skinny thing but she wanted lots of space, including mine. She kept pushing my elbow out of the way, every time I tried to rest it on the shared armrest. She was a bitter old woman. She fell asleep so I gave her a good slap. Well no I didn't but I was lose to it. While she was sleeping in the middle of the night the cabin crew brought some snacks for us and I had some ice cream, at 3:15 am! Anyway her husband had a sandwich but didn't bother to wake her up. He probably felt the same as me, let her sleep and give us peace. She woke up when the cabin crew were away. She was furious with him and seemed to imply that I was somehow culpable too. She gave him a good talking to and seemed to think that he should go in search of the crew, which I'm glad to say he refused to do. Unfortunately they came back round so she got her snack. Usually one makes an effort to chat to fellow passengers but not with this one.
I've noticed that Schipol are timingmy access time and have only few minutes left.
So will close this post for now and go back to reading Molloy,which I've read a few times now but is always like a new experience every time. Such is Mr Beckett. I think in fact I may have quoted from him in the past in this blog. Maybe the bit about his method of communicating with his mother, with knocks on the head, one tap for yes, two for no, etc. I'm sure you know the drill by now.
Will write more re my trip once I'm home. All for now.
Sunday, November 04, 2012
Oscar and his pals at Villa Maria
Oscar is one of the two boys who will play a six a side against the President's team on Saturday. He is the middle one in the group photo. Wish I was still here on Saturday. He told me on my first day back that I was like his second papa. I've known him since my first time in Villa Maria.
Some kids of Villa Maria
These are some of the kids who come to the centre at Villa Maria. The boys are Freddy and Sebastien and two of the girls are Geraldine and Natalyn.
Friday, November 02, 2012
Happy beautiful girls of El Salvador
Have you ever seen more beautiful happy girls than those of Villa El Salvador? 
Girls of El Salvador
Singing their hearts out with Flor conducting a little. The cheer leader was not impressed with Flor's solo singing efforts, gracias señorita she said in a somewhat facetious tone of voice, while I declined her invite. My voice was out of tune at the time. Unfortunately. 
DJ, key board player and animadora
Our DJ and key board player and cheer leader at our little party. 
Things
The problem of shitting in public places seems to be getting worse, and as for pissing well what can one say. Quite often when one is on the bus to Villa Maria one can see a guy with his trousers round his ankles having a dump behind a pillar in full view of all passers by and public transport users such as myself. Something has to be done. I've not seen it anywhere else except on way to Villa Maria, and I don't see why the good people of Villa Maria should have to put up with it. I've not seen anything like that elsewhere in Lima or Cusco, though some men, a few only, in Cusco think nothing of spitting on the pavement(sidewalk) right in front of you. Disgusting habit.
Went to see the latest Bond movie "Skyfall" last night, which was the opening night here in Lima. Cinema was sold out for our Daniel and maybe for Javier too. Or probably for Javier. We went to the cine bar and I treated myself to a pisco sour as I watched Mr Bond drink his martini, stirred not shaken, my pisco sour I mean. Delicious it was too and included in the entrance which was a very reasonable 50 soles. Movie is best Bond film for years and certainly best that our boy Daniel has done. Great chases and fights, Javier is excellent as baddie and Judy is her usual terrific self. I became quite nostalgic when the film moved to Scotland. What a beautiful country. There's nowhere else quite like it really. Peru is beautiful too but Scotland's Highlands and Islands are still top of the league, as is Edinburgh of course, though Cusco takes a very close second place in my heart.
Incredibly enough I'm getting close to the end of my stay in Peru this time round and will need to start thinking about coping with the cold but hopefully not the snow by this time next week. Will also need to start getting ready to leave so may not have much time on my hands for my blog but will do my best, maybe some more photos? Would that be acceptable for you all.
For those of you who like stats my blog has been viewed 2000 times since I left the UK in early September. I wish I knew who you all are, maybe its just the same person travelling around the world and checking into my blog. It's been read in UK, USA, Peru, Russia, Italy, Germany, Greece, Sweden, France, Indonesia, Argentina, Chile, Venezuela, Romania, Ukraine, Poland, Latvia, India and Netherlands. So who are all these guys?
Thanks anyway for taking the time to read my ramblings and I hope you found something of interest to you. More to follow.
Went to see the latest Bond movie "Skyfall" last night, which was the opening night here in Lima. Cinema was sold out for our Daniel and maybe for Javier too. Or probably for Javier. We went to the cine bar and I treated myself to a pisco sour as I watched Mr Bond drink his martini, stirred not shaken, my pisco sour I mean. Delicious it was too and included in the entrance which was a very reasonable 50 soles. Movie is best Bond film for years and certainly best that our boy Daniel has done. Great chases and fights, Javier is excellent as baddie and Judy is her usual terrific self. I became quite nostalgic when the film moved to Scotland. What a beautiful country. There's nowhere else quite like it really. Peru is beautiful too but Scotland's Highlands and Islands are still top of the league, as is Edinburgh of course, though Cusco takes a very close second place in my heart.
Incredibly enough I'm getting close to the end of my stay in Peru this time round and will need to start thinking about coping with the cold but hopefully not the snow by this time next week. Will also need to start getting ready to leave so may not have much time on my hands for my blog but will do my best, maybe some more photos? Would that be acceptable for you all.
For those of you who like stats my blog has been viewed 2000 times since I left the UK in early September. I wish I knew who you all are, maybe its just the same person travelling around the world and checking into my blog. It's been read in UK, USA, Peru, Russia, Italy, Germany, Greece, Sweden, France, Indonesia, Argentina, Chile, Venezuela, Romania, Ukraine, Poland, Latvia, India and Netherlands. So who are all these guys?
Thanks anyway for taking the time to read my ramblings and I hope you found something of interest to you. More to follow.
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