¡Es todo, chicos!

Trip Start Aug 09, 2007
1
44
45
Trip End Jan 20, 2008


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Flag of Chile  ,
Friday, January 18, 2008

So back here, then. Santiago. In the heat. Intense heat. Even the notorious canine gangs are suffering, dead dogs litter the streets.
"Look - a dead dog!"
"Where?"
Technically, of course, they may not be dead. But I prefer to think of them that way. Maggot-bloated corpses putrefying in the stifling heat. This is hound hell.
I caught the night bus from Mendoza. Over the High Andes. Through the Chilean border at three in the morning. Or two, on the Chilean side. Just as I had got to sleep. So I had to stand in a queue. In the cold, waiting for a stamp. And then again, in another queue, waiting to go through customs. What strange customs they have, here. And then back on the bus, where I failed to get back to sleep, so watched the stars. Bright. And lots of them. Who'd have thought it? Space. Deep.
And then Santiago. A couple of days of not doing much. Sitting by the pool. Drinking with some Swedish girls. And then some English chaps. A couple of them Man Utd fans. I was polite. As ever.
"You should come out - it's your last night".
Laetitia once told me that English blokes need a reason to drink. I think it is part of the English genius that we can always find one.
"There's an 'R' in the month - let's go to the pub".
So this is it, then. The end. Six months. Over.
I was going to thank you all for reading this. But then I realised you should really be thanking me. For taking the time to write all this. Pass on my wisdom. Improve your lives. People talk about the wisdom of the ancients. But the ancients weren't really all that wise. All sorts of bizarre superstitions. And they didn't have DVD players, did they? Or Steven Segal movies. Or pop music - at least nothing that could be compared to the work, of, for instance, Bob Dylan, Mark E. Smith or Lemmy. So basically, we can conclude that the ancients were a bit rubbish. And that you have learnt far more from this blog than you ever would from them. There will, of course, be a written test when I get back. Failure to pass it will mean you will not be able to progress to the next level. And will bring eternal shame on you and your family.
So. Then. My taxi to the airport is in less than one hour. And then I fly. I will see some of you for a pint, very, very soon. Hasta luego, chicos.
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Comments

roo7
roo7 on

Goodbye
and thanks for all of that. We are grateful, each and every one of us
xx

tolstoy
tolstoy on

Yay!
Yay for England. It has one of its most important intellectuals back in its loving embrace. Yay!

Let us know if you're going to be up this way any time soon. Otherwise, I'll come on a pilgrimage south to seek wisdom and advice on all things.

simey
simey on

Bon Voyage
Ah Matmos,
Paddle home safely. Thanks for all the cats. See you soon.
Love
Simey, Robby, Nicky, and Lily-Rosy.

P.S. Don't fly BA.

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