Cunit

Happy Birthday

29 today! As I like to say "age ain't nothin' but a number": a number that determines when you die and whether you are judged a success by society.

I recieved this charming pair of street theatre pants from my wife: look at all those colours! Look closer!

I also treated myself to some raw prawns from a shack down on the waterfront that, whilst very tasty, sadly went through me like an express train.

Due to the Colombian presidential elections all alcohol sales were prohibited for the duration of the weekend so we celebrated in style with a bottle of warm lemon fanta and some pounding psychedelic trance in an Israeli compound on the outskirts of town. Just like last year! Shalom!

El pibe

Carlos Valderrama's cousin tried to sell me a fishing trip today. I declined but he still showed me a photo of "el pibe" wearing an unimaginably tiny pair of denim shorts. Apparantly he is stingy; I do hate that in a cousin.

This statue is 22 feet tall:

Whoops

Apparantly sweetened wasps aren't considered a delicacy in Colombia: they just really like jam. I wish someone had told me that earlier and saved us the emergency air lift out of the national park.

Tayrona national park, viewed from the air.

Hooters, Medellin

"Nobody goes to Hooters for the wings!" and I can see why: they are short on meat, dry, overly crunchy and coated in a thin vinegary sauce.

You also have to pay extra for celery and ranch dressing.

One of the people in this photo may have had breast augmentation surgery.

Medellin is the plastic surgery capital of Colombia.

The gloves are ... on!

This Cartagena bar is popular with prostitutes, con men of every stripe and people who like to eat rotisserrie chicken while wearing diesel-pumpin' gloves.

The chicken was delicously moist and extremely flavourful and as a digestif a kindly old gentlemen offered to lightly electrocute me for 5,000 pesos using a wind up transistor attached to two metal handles. I lasted for 22 revolutions before the cramps in my forearms became too painful and I gave up. Kate lasted for 20, which is "pretty good for a girl". The spicy habanero sauce was very good too and you got 3 small baked potatos.

Ride the pony

Pony Malta is a deliciously sweet, semi-sparkling malt drink. It's super-refreshing and full of energy so it's perfect whether you are just waiting for a pig to eat an apple:

Watching the sex-frogs:

Or simply blacking up with a sex partner.

So Malty! So delicious! Pony!

Cola and indeed pola

Do you enjoy a refreshing glass of the popular drink lager and coke on a hot day? Do you ever try to replicate this in, say, a shopping precinct by trying to pour non-brand cola into a can of lager and back again like a demented alchemist until your wet legs and reedy high pitched cackling once again attract the attention of "security"? Fu¢k security! Buy Cola and pola, the first 2% lager/cola drink in a can.

It tastes like Danone Activia prune fruit layer bio yoghurt.

Tosh

Tosh

Tosh

Tosh

RIP

Sorry

Sorry about the lack of posts of late: I'll try and make it up to you by drinking some flavoured egg drinks and cartons of cherry dessert wine.

Again, apologies.

Perfect for the lunchbox

Whilst I may not be able to see the point of a fun size can of lager

I can definately see the worth in a juice box that holds ten shots of rum.

No straw though. Bad one.

Wimpy

Wimpy, Calle 7, Bogota.

Sadly I did not see their bender in a bun.

The last refuge of a scoundrel

Is there anything more predictable than making fun of the product names in a Chinese supermarket?

In an attempt to assuage my guilt I'm going to post a picture of this rockin' little dude.

Pug count 25 & 26

Pugs #25 & 26: all fawn brace, gleefully exhausted after rigorous circuit training in Parque Periodistas, Bogota. Fine "bacon" tounges fully extended post-workout. Breathing heavy but even, despite high altitude.

Pug count 24

Pug #24: Muscular fawn powerhouse strutting towards the flea market at Avenue Jimanez, Bogota, Columbia. Perfect prancing gait: extended front leg is, momentarily, simultaneously parrallel to the floor and perpendicular to the "contact leg". A fine atheletic specimin.

Tie a Llama Down`

Llama frolic:

Llama fillet:

Although I'm very, very sure that I never want to see the inside of a llama abbatoir I can heartily recommend this llama stew I had in Salta and fully endorse their decision to serve it with 3 (three) kinds of carbohydrate: spuds, rice and quinoa. Also Kate bought a nice llama-wool cardigan that doesn't really smell that bad as long as it doesn't get damp.

For reference this is not a llama, it's a guanaco, a camelid of a different stripe altogether:

I have not eaten his kin yet.