Saturday 16th of October, 2004
my brain processes them as an optical illusion
Up at 9:00 again. As the hols are nearly over, I'm not too hard on myself, except to note that in the UK it's already lunchtime. Too much manjar for breakfast. One of those things that only the stuff running out can prevent me from eating too much. cf. Winnie the Pooh visiting Rabbit.
I go out for a nose around the shops again and buy some bits and pieces. I manage to establish that my Spanish isn't as advanced as I might have hoped, but listening to people speak... it's less opaque than before, somehow.
Lunch at a fish restaurant in the central market, designed (so I'm informed) by Eiffel, on the way buying DVDs of a couple of spaghetti westerns (including Un Hombre Llamada Dyango) from a cool place that sells videos and DVDs and memorabilia of old movies.
Back to the flat to let Susan in, who's come to collect her stuff. She's flying out tomorrow on the same plane as me.
Then out to San Cristobal, a very large hill (in some places it might be considered a small mountain, but they set exacting standards for mountains around here) with a shrine and large statue of the Madonna on the summit, along with a number of television masts. We ascend in the funicula. From here it's possible to see Santiago stretching out to the foot of the Andes. for miles and miles all around, sort of as if it had been poured onto the landscape. My brain finds it difficult to accept the sheer size of the Andes - something so big it has clouds three quarters of the way up it. As with the other day, I see the mountains, but my brain processes them as an optical illusion. The sky is virtually clear, perfect weather for it.
Standing in the funicula waiting to descend, I decide that I have misjudged tourists. I'd like to do more tourism in the future. Travelling around the world to act as one would at home is all very well, but... well, no it's not. I need to see more tourist attractions, I think. That probably sounds contradictory. I think what would be good would be to somehow access the part of me that's in wide-eyed wonder at the fact that I'm on the other side of the world from that which I'm most usual with, that there are men with Llamas around, and palm trees grow here because they feel like it. If that means travelling by cablecar, then so be it. It doesn't mean I want to eat in Macdonalds. In fact I'm not sure why anyone would ever, particularly if there's Lomo Completa y papas fritas available next door.
Off to dinner at the same restaurant we went to before Lunlunta - V & I, Susan and her boyfriend, Bill, Carola (who leaves first, followed by Bill half an hour later and replaced by) Arnaldo. Good meal, but I'm stuffed. Lots of interesting and, at times, very useful conversation.
Cab back to the flat, where I do most of my packing. A whole bunch will have to wait 'til tomorrow morning, though.
