Composite blog consisting of notes, reflections, weird jokes, trip reports and amusing stories from the death row; some personal, some told and some fabricated, I have to reckon!

BEWARE!! This is neither a porno nor a politically correct site... more probably is a highly misanthropic and overtly cynical terminal account

Ridendo castigat mores, that I freely translate as ”humor improves behavior” , not that I believe, but it sounds nice!

10
May
2018

Peru Monogatari, The Colca Canyon, la octava maleta,  part two

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I am a lion, part 2

Plunge to Sangallo: hope, despair and rescue

 

Dear Danarel,

Then, with some difficulty, I am getting back in time, I decided to go to  the Mirador (a viewing point) near the shabby Plaza de Toros to look to the path plunging to Sangalle and weight my odds. It shocked me mightily that such a miserable village is spending its  last pennies by indulging itself in four days of Read More

12
May
2018

Olympic Peninsula and the Lost Rainforest

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Dear Danarel

I never heard about Olympic Peninsula before my  physician, to whom I told that I am going to Seattle, advised me to visit it.  It has a septentrional rainforest he casually said. I felt Read More

17
May
2018

Back to King Solomon, through Sequoia National Monument

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Instead of obituary

 

Dear Danarel,

With your permission I will do a kind of abstract for the people who are in a hurry. It says that I left my son’s home of  Silicon Valley, the  brain farm for computer scientists and  sleeping quarters (rent at ridiculously high price)  of the Indian and the Israeli Foreign Legion, which is the strike force of the of a dozen fo  HiTech giants looming around. My intention Read More

7
Jul
2018

I had yesterday a terrible row with God

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EARTHQUAKE AND CONVERSION

 

It was around midnight after an exhausting day which included a five hours flight from Sankt Petersburg and the major disappointment to realize that there were no running trains at the airport towards my backwaters abode. I arrived home dead tired and hungry, found the determination to prepare a rice with some Indian relish,  I believe it was pickled lime, took care of the hygienic ritual and went to bed with the Apple tablet.  Read More

16
Jul
2018

Peru Monogatari, The Liquid Realm of Iquitos, la novena maleta, part one

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THE TIMELESS JOURNEY, PART ONE

Dear Danarel

 

I hope that you don’t mind that I am giving titles to my letters. The complexity of the material and the number of details obliged me to do it, otherwise I will go in orbs larger and larger and land into a never ending story. And to be on the safe side let’s better start with the beginning.  The opportunities to go from Peru or Ecuador into the Amazonian jungle, the enchanted and dangerous domain of  fabulous plants and animals, leading to amazing experiences and sometimes to complete disasters – abound. Read More

16
Jul
2018

Peru Monogatari, The Liquid Realm of Iquitos, la novena maleta, part two

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THE TIMELESS JOURNEY, PART TWO

 

Dear Danarel,

 

The other half of the fruit is rotten even if the buildings are one day old. It is born rotten. These are the wood houses, big prismatic crates, giant matchboxes (they may burn sometimes), the fixed ones on posts or on logs, the floating ones. They are made  of wide planks which enclose  both the sacred and the lay space, the sleeping and the living room of the family. The box   is partially surrounded by a corridor which leads to a veranda from one side and to the kitchen and toilet from other: the whole are more or less open to public vision, the wind, the mind and to the rain. Seasonal cleaning,  I will say.   A more confluence with nature and its elements, including giant size mosquitoes, is hard to imagine.  They are painted in luminous colours, and in spite the structural unity, they differ very much one from the other. Some have thatched roofs, but the corrugated iron is dominant. People are circulating in boats to come in or to go out of this miser Venice. Read More

16
Jul
2018

Peru Monogatari, The Liquid Realm of Iquitos, la novena maleta, part three

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THE TIMELESS JOURNEY, PART THREE

 

Dear Danarel,

So, after some hesitations, mosquitoes love me too and a lot, it appeared that the “selva”, the rain forest will be the last station of my journey. I decided to go for it and put some tough conditions on the desk of the travel agent. I do not want to see dancing Indians, rescued animal shelters, bare buttocks of any sex or to experience any form of agro-tourism (that last was a mistake,  justified only by age, I recommend it). What I wanted was  a tour focused on fauna and flora. It sounded smart, they agreed, they will agree to everything and do whatever they want… So,  there we go first by car to Nauta, and from there by boat through an amazing array of rivers  and rivulets, canals and creeks,   channels and tributaries of various colours and names towards our jungle lodge… Read More

22
Jul
2018

SOME AMAZING DISCLOSURES OF A NEW RUSSIAN CONSPIRACY

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The pigeon mystery

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What shall we do?

There were a handful of things I hated in Russia ( I am still there, so restrain is mandatory)  such as the suspect lack of urine’s smell in metro ( I am a  veteran Parisian I know what  I am talking about ), the exaggerate cleanness of the streets and plazas, the absence of beggars and of the army cum police patrols, carrying heavy, very modern and scary, machine guns and cute berets. Who for God’ sake is assuming my security? Three meagre and often paunchy police force armed with short wooden sticks? Or are they magic wands?  The homeless were so rare that when I have seen one I took him in my arms and kissed him (Jesus style) so much he gave me a feeling of HOME. Also, the total penuries of graffiti, the absence of muscular youth jumping over subway doors or the subdued low tone of speech on public transportation convinced me that human natural behaviour was squeezed by ruthless dictatorship and severe discipline. To be sincere I have to add that Russian in general do not smile, are not very  kind, pick their teeth after meals  and are rarely engaged in overt, outdoors  sexual activity. It seems that they are suffering of a national libido inhibition. Confidentially, I have to tell that the preposterous total lack of dog’ turds*on streets gave me another proof of Russian cruelty and wickedness. It was one of the discoveries that I am most proud of. Russians are dogs’ mad. They can be in a terrible need, both mental and financial, they want a dog. OK. A COMPANION you will say! Not at all, they want a CHAMPION, a pure breed, which will cost a fortune and have to be treated like a prince. The prince Cannis!..So how come? After some mature reflection and deep thinking I remembered that Russia is the country of the Pavlovian Dog. It make sense that  all the dogs of the country were submitted to   a Pavlovian Training, and as a result they all  do their needs at the same hour, in the same unidentifiable place and get rid of results,  in the same manner.  I cannot see another explanation and I do not care for more details about  this quite revolting subject. Now that the Turks have dropped the Darwinist Theory, which  pretends that we originate from monkeys they can very well, after the last elections, drop the Conditional Reflex Theory too, which suggests that people are behaving like dogs. I felt myself tempted, more than once, to bark at all azimuths, especially when I heard some correct people lecturing.  So, I found, let’s face it, the position of the Islamic traditionalism (Erdogan being a conservative and not a fundamentalist, yet) quite remarkable in affirming, once for ever, the difference between humans and animals and the manifest superiority of the firsts! To hell with animal rights!!! Read More