Good morning folks
I trust this finds you in tiptop form and that you had a mighty fine weekend.
Mid-move (i.e, cannot find anything as it is spread over three sites and in jumbled boxes), should be in by next weekend, he says, hopefully…
This could be a shorter-than-usual blog as I’m having internet/website issues.
Here is the weekly wrap-up from Limalandia and the last blog scribbled in Salamanca (hopefully!)
House move #37 has begun. The time to flee Salamanca is near!
After finally getting a van sorted and confirmed, Saturday was the big move (of the big stuff).
As the punter who was going to move in to our place gave backword, a bit of pressure was off, but there was plenty of pressure from other forces of nature.
Some very early mornings and very late nights still saw us not ready for 9am Saturday morning.
You see these films of people frantically burning money, shredding documents, destroying the microfiche or flushing coke down the loo, that is a bit what it was like, as no matter how organised/labelled/boxed up you are, in the end you just end up stuffing stuff into carrier bags, just to move in time (carrier bags which will probably be untouched before the next move!)
Completely not ready, Chaos would be the best word.
The Nipper threw herself on her things shouting “Don’t touch my things, I am not going!” (She has her moments).
Anyway, Alfredo arrived with a 4-man-team of helpers (I was expecting only one) which was a huge bonus, but when the truck was full after only half our stuff was on-board we had problems. Two runs and a hastily renegotiated fee would be in order.
Setting off on the first run, we were pulled over by the Policia within 5 seconds of pulling on the Panamericana! Corruption is a very bad thing, and I was not a part of it, but let’s just say the matter was resolved out of court!
One minor issue was that the owner of the place where we are moving to, had been unable to move her stuff out! So, there is a flat in Miraflores which is full to bursting point (and which leaves me fearing that half of our boxes will mistakenly heading to the jungle when she does move out!)
First load done, back to Salamanca, 2nd load loaded, back to Miraflores where we met my two mates James. B and Sam, who had kindly given up their Saturday arvo to help out, so we made light work of a heavy load and were done by mid-afternoon and after chicken and chips we enjoyed my first ever Saturday afternoon (in Lima) tippling!
A beer garden would have been perfect, but despite perfect beer garden weather, beer gardens don’t exist here, so we made do with a roadside Irish bar, but they served cold beer and a sunny afternoon turned into a blurry evening
Need to be out of Salamanca by the 31st and in Miraflores on the 1st.
Will it all work out? Watch this space…
Nothing beats the comfort of sleeping on a blue cream cracker mattress!
Needless noise nettling!
Lima is a long way off perfect! It is not my personal idea of Paradise, but it does have its plusses.
People moan about the traffic, an insolvable problem that is only going to get worse and worse. Unpredictable is a huge understatement.
For me, the thing that drives me to complete distraction is the noise. Incessant racket 24/7.
It is indeed one of the reasons we are moving.
It is a cultural thing and if I was deaf it wouldn’t be a problem, but as time is only a token measure here (punctuality is another story, some other time), it means that there is always, always noise and people don’t seem to give a monkeys about it…
With 11 million punters sharing the same grimy air and crowded condrete in the city, you’re never going to get much P&Q, but most people do not actually like silence and it is filled with noise, be it TV or music or horns or alarms or DIY….
I’ve nothing at all against people having a party, but it is the noise levels and times that kill me.
Midnight fireworks are an almost daily occurrence, to celebrate somebody’s birthday.
Although Salamanca is about as urban as it is possible to be, a thousand cockerels cock-a-doodle-doooo all day every day, in disharmony with packs of howling pooches.
Car alarms (the same 5-tone alarm with every car) go off all day and night whenever butterfly sneezes, as do house alarms, as do reverse beacons…
It had been a week of little kip anyway, but (every) Friday night was party night next door which wrapped up around 3am with a shouting contest and a “full-volume-no-volume-full-volume-no-volume” stereo demonstration. My alarm went off at 5am.
Saturday night, I’d had a few shandies but it wasn’t enough to drown out the 3 parties on my street trying to outnoise each other. The fiesta two doors down won and raged until 6am, when a microphone was left on which gave a feedback blast every 5 minutes until 7am, just as the Sunday morning local church rock band started up, joy.
MC Hammer is a mysterious punter in the building who likes to practise hammering every day at all hours, accompanied by the driller-killer. Deaf by power tools.
Castle Greyskull upstairs gets in at 1am and slams the dungeon door shut, vibrating the walls, to be reopened at 5am.
I could go on and on and on…
Salamanca ironically used to be a fairly quiet place, but all the houses are being demolished and disappearing into blocks of diddy matchboxes and people who just don’t give a #### about how much noise they make, nor when they make it.
“Serenazgo” are the supposed powers-that-be who are supposed to control it, but “grey” rules mean that when you do call to ask them to go round to a 4am concert, they give a response like:
- It is the weekend.
- It’s only 4am.
- You should be more considerate towards your neighbours (who are enjoying their party)!
(All the above are actual, genuine answers, good work Municipalidad de Ate, good work!)
As I said, it’s cultural.
I’m the bad guy?
Next week, too long-winded right now.
A bit of midweek drama took place when one particular ar$eh0le in the building almost had his wreck-of-a-car towed away. (It wasn’t me who instigated it before you ask!)
This “more-filler-than-metal-with-two-flat-tyres” wreck has languished outside for 6mths without turning a wheel. Somebody obviously took offence and reported it.
In a blur of noise. a huge towtruck, two 4×4 pick-ups and about a dozen yellow waistcoats (the uniform of officialdom) tried to take it away, but after a huge argument everything suddenly went quiet and they all silently left.
Money may (allegedly) have crossed palms, “No problem here, move along”.
So crooked that if they swallowed a nail and spat it back up it’d be a corkscrew
On miles and fitness (and time this week!)
No ventures into the hills this week and only some embarrassingly short runs to count on three fingers. A lot of locals do laps of local parks, so as it was my last week here I thought I’d try it.
Now (if I am fit) I absolutely LOVE running on the track, almost as much as the hills, which is paradoxical, but I do, but only when I am fit, which is not often these days.
It was a bit like running round a broken paving slab track, skipping the doggydo and dodging other punters, but with interest levels approaching zero.
When we move, the plan is to run home after work, a straightforward 6miler and then a long run int’hills on a weekend, that is the plan and I really do need to pull my finger out soon, very soon. At least with mini-miles, I don’t get injured, but with the UT69 (38 miles at altitude) being my main goal, mini-miles are not enough…
Barrow Raiders Round-up!
This week was supposed a friendly versus Whitehaven, but with just two weeks until the start of the real season, they cried off (too many ill/injured players to field a side).
So, in two weeks time it’s all to play for in the first home league game against Toronto Wolfpack, last years league winners and as they are the first fully professional rugby league team in Canada and the world’s first trans-Atlantic rugby league team, it is basically like playing against the Canadian national side! (Quiet an away trip, Toronto Wolfpack pay all expenses of visiting teams, they’ve got some brass behind ‘em!)
It won’t be an easy game or an easy season for the Barrow lads…
RIP Mark E Smith…
The state of the current music scene does generally make me despair. Music is a very personal thing and each to their own, but when Justin Beeeber makes headlines news for having a minor tantrum on stage when the crowd isn’t quiet for him, I question where it is going! (To hell in a handbag at a rate of knots).
Where are the characters, where are the heroes?
Mark E Smith, the definitive gritty Northerner and leadman of The Fall, passed away this week at the age of 60 (miraculous in that he survived that long!) A legend who didn’t want to be one.
The Fall were a band who in 40 years had over 60 members and released over 40 albums, some good, some great and some not so good, but it wasn’t just the music with the Fall, it was the acerbically caustic snarlings of the man himself, Mark E Smith.
In an interview for Smash Hits, he was quoted as saying that if he became Prime Minister; “I’d half the price of cigarettes, double the tax on health food, then I’d declare war on France.”
Not an easy man to get on with and definitely not everybody’s cup-o-tea, but the World will be a much duller place without him.
Ex-wife and band member (one of many, many) was quoted as saying that “he had a chip on both shoulders!”
It would be perhaps wrong to say Rest In Peace, as I don’t think he ever was at peace, but I bet he is somewhere now, laughing and probably upsetting everyone!
(Excellent interview HERE)
In memory of the above, here is a cover performed by The Fall. As the great man himself said:
That’s all for now folks, have an outstanding week
Johnny, Lina and the Nipper
p.s. Pocket money earned was immediately reinvested this week!