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The Wrong Way Round
The next morning we awoke and had our cincluded breakfast a very tasty affair of toast, bread and cereal and a small battle over fruit juices - everytime the staff brought out a new jug there was a very evident stiffening of the air followed by a mad dash from almost everyone to retrieve some refreshment.
After a quick shower we headed off into town, after first walking in the wrong direction and coming to an abrupt stop in front of a large park that was obviously not supposed to be there and turning around and begining again in the correct direction.
We had a look around the cathedral - having not quite got our fix of them in South America yet - and had a waunder around the Plaza Des Armas where there was a book festival going on. Since all the books were in spanish we chose not to enrich our minds but purchase an Italian style ice cream. We got larges. They turned out to be bloody huge and we had to sit down to eat them as they were too large to navigate around whilst walking and were melting a frankly alarming rate. Whilst we were sitting a random beggar came round and tried his best to get some money out of us, telling us how he needed to buy beer - I applauded his honesty, and appreciated a short lament on how we walk tall and white gleaming like gods among the local people - it was very eloquent, if not a tad embarassing and a bit sad to hear from a local. I gave him a non descript worthless coin I had in my pocket and sent him on his way.
We had a quick look around the Musuem of Santiago that documented the growth of the city and had antique furniture, clothes and jewellery of the various periods. We then walked to the Palace September and Palacio de la Moneda before heading to Schopdog for a late lunch.
Now Schopdog is a wonderous establishment that sells large and tasty hotdogs (with a variety of toppings), fries and a couple of other meaty takings with beer. More specifically large quantities of beer. We bought a 'rocket' this is 3 litres of beer that comes in a big tall tower that you pour yourself and take humourous photos sitting next to. It is a LOT of fun. And the idea of franchising the place (or simply knicking the entire concept) in the UK has crossed my mind on more than one occasion.
Having spent a bit too much time drinking and eating hotdogs and largely being a bit of a British mess in the corner of the restaurant in the middle pf the day we had to run back to the hostel and grab our bags quickly to get a taxi to the airport. We got it all done in plenty of time however and I was able to find Northern Lights at their book exchange to take with me whilst we waited to be picked up.
Checked in, through immigration and security at the airport we then went about spending the last of our Chilean pesos, predominantly at Dunkin Donuts. I gave the Donut Lady the full amount in coins, which involved counting them out and putting them into little piles of different round amounts of money. The girl then inexplicably gave me back 500 pesos, typing the amount I owed her on to a calculator, the same amount that previously had sat on the counter. I counted slowly and used my fingers for "one hundred, two hundred" and then at the end she gave me the 500 pesos back again. Since the girl was unable to count (surely the first thing required of a woman in charge of a cash register) I bought another donut with my newly acquired extra 500 pesos and all was well. The flight to Buenos Aires was highly uneventful, but everything in BA airport (which you may or may not remember from a previous blog as being described as the worst airport in the entire world) was closed. We had no Argentinian Pesos on us to buy things from the vending machines either assuming we would have been able to use US dollars in the stores and there was no currency exchange. Vending machines obviously do not take US dollars so with little else to do for a few hours we overtook a couple of seat benches and had a nap across them whilst we waited for our flight.
We boarded late - standard for Buenos Aires Airport - and then every passenger had their bag searched. My deoderent is confiscated for being over 100ml, which I decide I can live with. The same security dude has, however, just confiscated a woman's perfumes and various other toiletries on the basis that whilst they are under 100ml they are not in a clear plastic bag and that the airport does not provide such bags, she should have come prepared with one (again BA Airport is awful). So looking at my over run bag he chooses to ask if I have any other liquids and I lie saying that I don't -knowing that NZ will not care about my small CK or newly purchased prescription cream and that the security guard is just being an ass.
In keeping with the standards of the airport Aerolineas Argentina is a bad airline. The flight was just under 14 hours long and there was no personal TV screen, there was in fact no film or TV show of any description played in english or spanish and they switched the lights off pretty early on in the flight making reading a little more difficult since we all know those little personal lights are pretty rubbish to read by. Aerolineas Argentina also have among their employ the most incompetent air stewardess - I witnessed, from my seat, her spill coffee down 6 people. This is 6 people I could see her do this to, not necessarily everyone she spilt coffee down and not in any particular level of turbulance. So when she asked the elderly white haired woman across the aisle from me in her white cashmere sweater if she would like a coffee I was tempted to warn the woman not to, but I didn't knowing how utterly ridiculous it would appear and so watched the stewardess pour the majority of a cup of coffee down the woman, the poor pensioner scream as the hot coffee hit her square in the chest and the stupid stewardess then begin RUBBING the stain into the sweater. I felt bad for having foreseen it all and having said nothing, but not for too long.
On the 14 hour flight I maybe slept an hour - I rarely manage to sleep on planes - and it wasn't helped by the guy infront who put his chair all the way back and was, what I can only imagine, attempting to detach it from the floor by repeatedly bouncing it up and down. Thankfully the best thing about flights is that they end and so after what had seemed so much longer than some of the actually longer bus journeys we had taken we landed into Auckland Airport.
Immigration asked for some proof of exit and some rifling through my bag provided such evidence. Biosecurity then wanted to see my shoes since we'd been to the Inca Trail, Lucy had lied on her form and not ticked the box, I had decided to be honest since our passport was full of Inca Trail stamps including a nice big Machu Pichu one.
We exited with our bags through into arrivals and seated ourselves at the conveniently located McDonalds to the left. This was it, this was what we had been waiting for - the ability to converse with people in english and order food without difficulty and the underlying fear that you might get something altogether different. There would be no more Sprite/"Es-preet" fiascos.
"Kia Ora!" the woman behind the counter brightly said in a language not all together ressembling english. Well we were in New Zealand now weren't we?
After a quick shower we headed off into town, after first walking in the wrong direction and coming to an abrupt stop in front of a large park that was obviously not supposed to be there and turning around and begining again in the correct direction.
We had a look around the cathedral - having not quite got our fix of them in South America yet - and had a waunder around the Plaza Des Armas where there was a book festival going on. Since all the books were in spanish we chose not to enrich our minds but purchase an Italian style ice cream. We got larges. They turned out to be bloody huge and we had to sit down to eat them as they were too large to navigate around whilst walking and were melting a frankly alarming rate. Whilst we were sitting a random beggar came round and tried his best to get some money out of us, telling us how he needed to buy beer - I applauded his honesty, and appreciated a short lament on how we walk tall and white gleaming like gods among the local people - it was very eloquent, if not a tad embarassing and a bit sad to hear from a local. I gave him a non descript worthless coin I had in my pocket and sent him on his way.
We had a quick look around the Musuem of Santiago that documented the growth of the city and had antique furniture, clothes and jewellery of the various periods. We then walked to the Palace September and Palacio de la Moneda before heading to Schopdog for a late lunch.
Now Schopdog is a wonderous establishment that sells large and tasty hotdogs (with a variety of toppings), fries and a couple of other meaty takings with beer. More specifically large quantities of beer. We bought a 'rocket' this is 3 litres of beer that comes in a big tall tower that you pour yourself and take humourous photos sitting next to. It is a LOT of fun. And the idea of franchising the place (or simply knicking the entire concept) in the UK has crossed my mind on more than one occasion.
Having spent a bit too much time drinking and eating hotdogs and largely being a bit of a British mess in the corner of the restaurant in the middle pf the day we had to run back to the hostel and grab our bags quickly to get a taxi to the airport. We got it all done in plenty of time however and I was able to find Northern Lights at their book exchange to take with me whilst we waited to be picked up.
Checked in, through immigration and security at the airport we then went about spending the last of our Chilean pesos, predominantly at Dunkin Donuts. I gave the Donut Lady the full amount in coins, which involved counting them out and putting them into little piles of different round amounts of money. The girl then inexplicably gave me back 500 pesos, typing the amount I owed her on to a calculator, the same amount that previously had sat on the counter. I counted slowly and used my fingers for "one hundred, two hundred" and then at the end she gave me the 500 pesos back again. Since the girl was unable to count (surely the first thing required of a woman in charge of a cash register) I bought another donut with my newly acquired extra 500 pesos and all was well. The flight to Buenos Aires was highly uneventful, but everything in BA airport (which you may or may not remember from a previous blog as being described as the worst airport in the entire world) was closed. We had no Argentinian Pesos on us to buy things from the vending machines either assuming we would have been able to use US dollars in the stores and there was no currency exchange. Vending machines obviously do not take US dollars so with little else to do for a few hours we overtook a couple of seat benches and had a nap across them whilst we waited for our flight.
We boarded late - standard for Buenos Aires Airport - and then every passenger had their bag searched. My deoderent is confiscated for being over 100ml, which I decide I can live with. The same security dude has, however, just confiscated a woman's perfumes and various other toiletries on the basis that whilst they are under 100ml they are not in a clear plastic bag and that the airport does not provide such bags, she should have come prepared with one (again BA Airport is awful). So looking at my over run bag he chooses to ask if I have any other liquids and I lie saying that I don't -knowing that NZ will not care about my small CK or newly purchased prescription cream and that the security guard is just being an ass.
In keeping with the standards of the airport Aerolineas Argentina is a bad airline. The flight was just under 14 hours long and there was no personal TV screen, there was in fact no film or TV show of any description played in english or spanish and they switched the lights off pretty early on in the flight making reading a little more difficult since we all know those little personal lights are pretty rubbish to read by. Aerolineas Argentina also have among their employ the most incompetent air stewardess - I witnessed, from my seat, her spill coffee down 6 people. This is 6 people I could see her do this to, not necessarily everyone she spilt coffee down and not in any particular level of turbulance. So when she asked the elderly white haired woman across the aisle from me in her white cashmere sweater if she would like a coffee I was tempted to warn the woman not to, but I didn't knowing how utterly ridiculous it would appear and so watched the stewardess pour the majority of a cup of coffee down the woman, the poor pensioner scream as the hot coffee hit her square in the chest and the stupid stewardess then begin RUBBING the stain into the sweater. I felt bad for having foreseen it all and having said nothing, but not for too long.
On the 14 hour flight I maybe slept an hour - I rarely manage to sleep on planes - and it wasn't helped by the guy infront who put his chair all the way back and was, what I can only imagine, attempting to detach it from the floor by repeatedly bouncing it up and down. Thankfully the best thing about flights is that they end and so after what had seemed so much longer than some of the actually longer bus journeys we had taken we landed into Auckland Airport.
Immigration asked for some proof of exit and some rifling through my bag provided such evidence. Biosecurity then wanted to see my shoes since we'd been to the Inca Trail, Lucy had lied on her form and not ticked the box, I had decided to be honest since our passport was full of Inca Trail stamps including a nice big Machu Pichu one.
We exited with our bags through into arrivals and seated ourselves at the conveniently located McDonalds to the left. This was it, this was what we had been waiting for - the ability to converse with people in english and order food without difficulty and the underlying fear that you might get something altogether different. There would be no more Sprite/"Es-preet" fiascos.
"Kia Ora!" the woman behind the counter brightly said in a language not all together ressembling english. Well we were in New Zealand now weren't we?
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