How to make Christmas abroad more fun.

This will be my first Christmas away from home. Andrew's too. As much as seeing how another country and culture celebrates the season can be fun and enlightening, I'm a sucker for tradition. I need the trees, I need the snow, I need the terrible TV commercials and I need 'Jingle Bells' playing over the loudspeaker of every store that I walk into in order for it to feel like Christmas. I need my North American capitalism!!
So how do you 'feel' Christmas when in another country? How do you get that sensation that comes from wrapping up in a large blanket, sitting by the fire with a cup of hot cocoa staring at a beautifully decorated tree while Boney M's 'Feliz Navidad' plays softly in the background? Is it possible? In South America? In Russia....Italy? Absolutely! Just pour yourself another mug of hot chocolate, crank the Boney M and let me show you how to take some Christmas traditions from home and enjoy them abroad. AND enjoy them on a travellers budget! (Nothing!!)

The Christmas Tree

Ah yes, the tree. "How lovely are your branches!" Normally I think you would agree that bringing a dead tree into the house and covering it with light bulbs is a pretty stupid idea. But it's Christmas!! Which means 'Who cares!?!' We all get a little crazy during the holidays (I blame the gingerbread men.....but that's a different story). So, how do you capture and decorate and decorate the perfect Tannenbaum when there are none in the country you are visiting? You have a couple of options:

1. Decorate a palm tree.
Easier said than done. You've got 15 feet of trunk and a bush of leaves at the top. Not so simple for decorating. So, make a holiday game out of it! See who can climb the highest (without a ladder) to nail their ornament into the trunk. If you get the star to the top: you win! There are negative points awarded for every coconut that falls.
This of course is never ideal because no matter how much you pretend, there is nothing festive about a palm tree. But look at the bright side: think about how many presents you can fit under it!!

2. 'Borrow' a tree.
Most places of business around the world like to set up one of those fake-but-beautiful 'traditional' fir trees to make their business appear more festive. This gives their customers that gooey Christmas feeling so they will buy more stuff. You however, are after the only thing in the store that is NOT for sale. The tree. Here's the plan, pick a business that is easy to spend a lot of time in (bookstores, clothing stores etc.). Send your travelling partner in to engage the staff by complaining, trying on clothes....anything that keeps the staff from noticing you creeping through the back door and hauling the Christmas tree to your getaway wagon (that you 'borrowed' from a little boy carrying home firewood). Ah yes, nothing says 'Christmas' like green fir, a star on top and $25 gift certificates for lingerie hanging from the branches.

Eggnog

Christmas can not be spent without this holiday drink. It's like Batman without Robin, it's like bread without butter, it's like wine without cheese, soda without cracker, glue without stick!!!!!
It's sacrilegious.
But, it happens around the world.

Pagans.

Your Options:
-Fly home. Hmmmmmm... expensive.....
-Forgo eggnog this year........

Haahahahahahahahahahahahaheeheeheeheeheeheehee!!!!!!....*sniff* oh boy. Good one.

-Cry.
-Substitute goats milk and raw eggs for the Christmas goodness.........*gag* ;-P
-Ha!! Make your own!!!! It's genius!! GENIUS!!!!

So...................................How does one make their own eggnog?

I got the 'egg' part.....but what the heck is 'nog?' Hold on a sec while I consult Wikipedia......

..............................................................*on hold music*..................................................

Ah! Nog, an old European slang word for rum! So, this is best done in Europe! Now, mix your eggs with your rum, beat until frothy and enjoy the festivities!

Note: The more you have, the more festive things get! Woohoo!

Snow

Bing Crosby would be ashamed if you didn't at least attempt to spend your time abroad with a 'White Christmas!' But, as reality has it, most of the world does NOT get snow for the holidays... So here is how you beat the heat and get back on Crosby's good side.
First, find the thermostat in your hostel or hotel room and crank it way down. Below zero. Next, grab two buckets and a spoon. Head to the local supermarket. Find the frozen food section, and when nobody is looking, start scraping the ice on the sides of the freezer with the spoon. Fill the buckets. RUN back to the hostel. (If you are not quick during this step, you will end up with two buckets of water. If you try to go back to the supermarket, the police will have made it there by then).
Spread the ice shavings onto the floor of the hostel and voila! A winter wonderland!

Note: Snow angels are not recommended as they tend to shorten the lifespan of your snow... breathing should be kept to a minimum too.

Now, for the snowman, make sure you picked up a bag of marshmallows while you were at the supermarket. Big ones. Hopefully your hostel has a microwave. If so, place a marshmallow in the microwave for 1:30. This is the bottom ball of the snowman. Place another marshmallow in for 1:00. This is the middle of the snowman, and one more goes in the microwave for 30 seconds. This is the head. Maybe give him a graham cracker hat....... and chocolate chip eyes and nose.......
Mmmmmmmmm......Frosty the Smoreman.

Fruitcake

This is a tradition best left at home. Do not contaminate other countries with it. Besides, I don't think they'll let you onto the plane with that mysterious substance.....

Caroling

What better way to spread Christmas cheer than singing in the streets? Who cares if the country doesn't speak English! Jingle Bells is universal. Everybody hates it.
Just grab your travel partner for a little back-up beat-box and sing your heart out in the main square! Don't forget to lay your cap our on the ground for coins. You are after all singing for Christmas supper.

Note: I hope you're cool with a McChristmas dinner....

Reindeer Games

Believe it or not, reindeer are a pretty North American tradition. So, in other countries that DON'T know about them, it's fun to try and convince the locals that Dasher, Dancer, Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid, Donner and Blitzen are Christmas gods where we come from. They fly around on Christmas eve from rooftop to rooftop pooping in the chimneys of the naughty kids. Rudolph (who is kinda like Zeus), shoots lightning from his red nose (that he got from too much holiday 'festivities').
Or, if you are travelling in northern Scandinavia, Russia or Norway where these animals actually live, you can play REAL reindeer games. All you need is a rifle and a few wild reindeers.

"Dude, Dude!! I just snagged Blitzen!"

After this season the song goes: "You know Dasher and Prancer and Comet and Donner."

Soon there won't be much left of the song.

Lights

What is Christmas without all the pretty lights? Unfortunately, many lights cost a big penny, so here's how to do it traveller style!
Head to the nearest dumpster and fish through the banana peels, diapers and leftovers to pull out wine and beer bottles (red and green would be best....keep things festive!)! Get about 12 of these. Now luckily firecrackers are cheap in most places around the world. As well as accessible. Get about 12 of these. Tie the wick of each firecracker to a long length of string, spacing each about two feet apart. Place each firecracker into a bottle and line the string of them in front of your house/hostel/hotel. Light the end of the big piece of string and enjoy the show!

Note: This may not last as long as your lights back home, but you'll have the coolest lights on the block!!

Mistletoe

What better way to break a language barrier than a little mistletoe! Grab a missile, grab a toe and see who will kiss you!

Note: Make sure you know what "Stop it you creepy moron" sounds like in the local dialect.

Stockings

Ah yes, the treasure chest for Santa to leave your booty! This could be as easy as using your own sock, but if you've been travelling, those probably smell like week-old mongolian roadkill.... Santa will NOT fill those, even if you leave him a BAG of cookies.
So luckily, the dryer is more of a North American device and most people around the world leave their laundry out to dry on the line.
If you are travelling in Japan, try to find a sumo wrestlers house, they have to have HUGE socks....
If all else fails, or there are no socks to be found, just hang your sleeping bag by the fireplace.

Watching Christmas Classics

The season can not go by without watching your holiday favorites be it 'Home Alone,' 'The Grinch Who Stole Christmas,' or 'Wonderful Life.'
Fortunately, I've found out that James Stewart speaks English, French, Spanish and Italian. He just moves his mouth funny when he does. I can bet the line "I'll lasso the moon for you Mary" sounds even more romantic in Italian...

"Io lasso di volontà la luna per voi Mary"

Whoa, I'm a dude and that just made ME melt.....

Note: Disregardhow un-manly that last comment was....

So here's the deal, find your local 'has everything' store. They usually have Christmas movies playing on the TVs for sale. Drag a sofa from the furniture department to the electronics department and enjoy the movie! Insist that you have to really 'test' the merchandise before buying.

Well, there you have it! The keys to a successful Christmas in another country. Tradition knows no borders! So, raise your glass high and toast the coming of the Savior into the world!
To everyone back home, we miss you terribly and wish we could show up under your tree this year.... but, if this made you smile in any way, accept that as a hug from us! Enjoy the season! Enjoy the eggnog! Cheers! "God bless us, everyone!"
Keep Smiling!
Feliz Navidad!
Anthony

A Brief Interlude...

Rio de Janeiro
Lisbon (Portugal)
Fatima
Madrid (Spain)
Pamplona
Lourdes (France)
Paris
Rome
Naples

It rained the first day we were in Pamplona, but the winter sun was clear and bright as we waited for the bus the next morning. The bus stop was at the end of a wide street leading into the oldest part of the city, and a short walk from the bull ring. The air was cold, and it smelled of things legendary...

We got off the bus at the foot of the moutain we had picked the day before. Standing on top of the "Ciudadela," a fortress used to defend the city when the border situation with France was still tenuous, we had tried to find a suitable climb. Most of the view had been obstructed by the mist and by the much taller newer buildings that populate the city today... but in the northwest, marked by a rainbow, loomed an enormous tree-covered hill.
"That one," I had pointed. Anthony nodded, and tucked his arms around his sides.
"Let's get out of the rain."

We set out the next day to meet our goal. Once off the bus, we made our way up an asphalt path until we found the train tracks. There was a sign that told us not to cross, but fortunately we don't speak spanish.
Across the tracks, the asphalt continued up to the trail head, and then off into a quiet Suburban neighborhood. Up at the top of the hill, there were some cell phone towers, and a bald spot that I thought would give us a good view. Off of the asphalt, the wide trail head branched off into a wild network of trails all across the mountainside. We set out without knowing where to go (as we usually do), except that upward was obviously the way to get to the top.

The trail was still damp from rain, but the trek wasn't hard. The ground was soft, covered with small corrugated leaves - a nice change from cobblestones. There were evergreens, and tall thin beeches naked for the winter. The trees were thick, but the cover would break periodically. In these places, the faded greens and browns of the forest floor would be met with piercing winter sunshine, and equally fierce northern wind. Through these bare patches, we could see cultivated land, small hamlets and farming communities, and far off in the distance the snow-capped Pyrenees.

We climbed steadily for well over an hour, meeting nothing but the whistling of wind and another faint dull sound that I had trouble recognizing.
"Do you think those are cow bells?"
Something mooed.
"Yup."
The only signs of people using the trail were a set of stone picnic tables, and a set of tracks from someone who was climbing ahead of us. We came upon a service road (up to the phone towers), and saw an older gentleman who was making the same trek as us. He seemed distracted by the cows, so we took the chance to pass him.

As we neared the summit, the clay and mud of the path gave way to rock, and the climb got steeper. Out of breath, we made it to the top and were startled by.... well, first we were startled by the old man, who had a car and had taken it to the top. Next, however, we were startled by an enormous fort that was occupying the entire 'bald spot' that we'd seen from the bottom.
We moved toward it. An enormous gate closed the entrance; above the gate was a sign that read "Fuerza de Alfonso XII." Sadly, we didn't know who Alfonso XII was - but we weren't going to pass up the oportunity to explore his legacy.

The fort was built right into the mountain, adding its moats and turrets to its already formidable natural defences. We climbed up the side of the hill around the side of the main gate.
"Mmm. The moat goes all the way around, I think."
"That's gonna make it hard to get in..."
Anthony rolled his eyes.

Not to be daunted, we set out in search of an entry point. Finally we found a point where a steep set of stairs led down into the moat, and gave us access to a passagway used previously by many shepherds (from all the sheep poo) and artists (from all the graffiti). Following in the footsteps of such noble predecessors, we made a thorough exploration of the castle - from the northern lookout posts and battlements, to the underground where arrow slits opened out onto the moat - from the prickly underbrush outside and the prison cells inside, to the long tiled halls where old Alfonso probably spent his time. The place was a miniature city, with space for hundreds of people to live (and live well), courtyards and balconies contrasted by towers from which one could see anyone coming for miles - and provided us with a fantastic vista of Pamplona.

Finishing with the exploration, we declared the excursion a success. We exited the way we came in (which turned out to be the only viable way), and went to eat lunch on a bench in front of the fort. The sun came out and warmed our wind-bitten hands. We opened a bottle of cheap wine with a corkscrew bought specifically for the occasion, and toasted while we ate delicious sandwiches, laughing and talking and passing the bottle back and forth.

We drank a bottle of wine on top of a hill in Spain - in front of a fort, which makes it even cooler. We toasted Quinn, and his family, and Scott, and his upcoming marriage and his family; and there was enough wine there for a rather large number of combinations along those themes.

So, while it may not be liturgically accurate to say this for another week, the story is told, so I'll say it now: Merry Christmas, Quinn. Fond thoughts and regards, my friend. Tell Scott that we had him there too.

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night."

Andrew

Cows Vs. Humans.

Salta (Argentina)
Puerto Iguazu
Foz do Iguassu (Brazil)
Sao Paulo
Rio De Janeiro


Hooray!! Anthony can type with both hands again! (He can also tie his shoes and wipe his bum all by himself!) By ´Anthony´ I mean me... I am sorry to say that I am getting better and you once again have to put up with my perception of this trip...(I apologize to all the intelligent people out there...) Anyways, on with the blog...

*ahem*

I never thought paradise existed in this life.
Imagine a place where the sun shines on cobble-stone streets that are lined with palm trees...
Imagine a place where wine flows like water...
Imagine a place where the best steak you have ever tasted is the cheapest thing on the menu...
Imagine a place where buses and bikes stay ON the road...
Imagine a place where the local ice cream store sells 1/2 kilo tubs of your favorite flavour for $2.87...

This is Argentina.

This is also my retirement plan...

I biblical times there was a journey through the desert to get to the ´land of milk and honey.´ Now if you give the Israelites more modern lingo (and diet), you´ve got the ´land of wine and steak.´
We´re on the same page now eh?
I´m almost convinced there may be a geographical translation error and that this is probably where the Israelites really ended up. Moses actually parted the Atlantic Ocean...
The Egyptians stopped at the shore and saw them 1,457km away (approximately where the Titanic would sink some thousands of years later) and said: "Ha! Forget that! Let´s go back to Egypt and wear funny hats, do cool dances and dress up our cats."
I guess all those details will be in next years "New American-revised-translated-King Tut-re-revised-illustrated-deciphered-and-ultra-interpreted Teen Bible..."

There we were in Argentina. We totally had to try this legendary steak... We went out with about six friend to a nice restaurant (the kind that serves bread free of cost... You know a place has class if it comes with free baguettes... If I ever own a restaurant you will get entire castles of bread with baguette pillars that you get to play and jump around in. Then you eat your way back to your table...
which is also made of bread...
THAT´S class.)
We had waiters in bow ties, free champagne and instrumental music playing softly... I wore shorts and a stained T-shirt. I even went the extra mile and wore my ball cap to match my underwear.
The evening then proceeded as follows:
Small talk, small talk, small talk, wine, small talk, beer, small talk, small talk, bread...

Then the heavens must have opened up and the music turned to trumpet fanfare as the waiters brought forth the most amazing piece of meat I think I have ever beheld...
They proceeded to lay the fatted calf in front of me...
My mother would be proud.
As would the chunky kid I went to elementary school with who used to fit 6 Oreo cookies into his mouth at once...
Actually, I´m not too sure this wasn´t him on my plate...

This was the biggest piece of dead cow I have ever seen-no, scratch that, ´cow´ isn´t manly enough of a word to describe the smorgasbord that lay before me... I had a full-out massive, macho, meat-eating, spitting, scratching, weight-lifting, Aye-Carramba BULL on my plate! I felt like one of those bull fighters in Spain waving the red cape...

NOTE: The red cape was actually my tongue hanging out of my mouth...drooling in my champagne...

At this point I discovered another drawback to Bolivian bus crashes. (If you are clueless about bus crashes and broken shoulders check out thenutztravel.blogspot.com)
While in my cast I had been making a list of things that are hard to do with only one arm:

1. Tie shoes.
2. Peel Oranges.
3. Spread butter.
and
4... Cut Steak...!

Imagine a paralytic getting roller-skates for Christmas... I almost cried.

Fortunately there was a Swedish girl who came with us six and was sitting beside me and pitied the poor gimp and helped out. (She should get a medal or something, just because cutting a piece of meat like that should take more than a fork and knife....
I´m thinking along the lines of chainsaw...)

She also had absolutely gorgeous hands....

The rest of her might have been lovely as well, but I only remember the hands... that were cutting up that delectable chunk of bovine on my plate...

They must breed cows like crazy down here because I´m sure they had to take out an entire herd to feed our table...

Incredible steak. Perfect steak. Perfect wine. Perfect bread... The whole meal cost me a whopping $11.13...
That´s about how much a glass of water costs at ´The Keg´ back home...

I might just move down here and be a cow farmer... Or a waiter in a bread castle...

The rest of Argentina was beautiful, it had a very European feel to it. We had our camera fixed in Salta (It broke at the Salt Flats in Bolivia), said goodbye to some friends heading to other places and made our way to the next check mark on OUR list. Iguassu Falls.... 36 KM of waterfalls....
Man, standing among them made me have to pee..
One of those pees that comes out of nowhere but hits you like a bowling ball in the bladder...

We found ourselves walking on a path to a certain set of falls on which a sign was posted:

"Natural habitat, beware of dangerous animals. Keep children in view."

I didn´t take my eyes off Andrew.

As if not enough has happened already, the stupid part of me wanted to see a jaguar.
I don´t know what I would have done if one showed up considering my right arm is useless...
I imagined myself running (picture Forrest Gump to get an idea of how a handicapped person runs...)as fast as I could with the Jaguar trotting along behind me... smelling sweat and smiling...
Then he easily takes me down and eats my LEFT arm...

I quickened my pace to the falls.

They were a thing of beauty. Once again words will always fall short if one tries to capture the feeling of standing there with a panoramic view of so many waterfalls, the roar of the water, the mist in your face, the glow of the rainbows, the pee running down your leg...

From the falls we stopped in Sao Paulo to meet/stay with the family of one of Andrews friends. What amazing people! They put up with our non-existent Portuguese, made us home-cooked meals, gave us room to sleep AND gave us a tour of the city! Which included one of the best sandwiches I´ve ever eaten.... Take your favorite sandwich meat, buy about $15 worth of it for one sandwich, heat it up on the grill, melt cheese over it, stack it on a bun and enjoy the ecstasy. It was kinda like Arbys... but the one in the picture, not the one you actually get...

A few pictures and goodbyes later and we were off to Rio De Janeiro! We were hoping to get a little R&R on the Copacobana and Impanema beaches before heading off to Europe, but events and shady people prevented that...that´s later in the story, sit still.
Patience young Jedi.

The first day we walked along the Copacobana beach to get a feel for it. The problem with a beach in a city that size is that everybody, of all different sizes and shapes decides to show a little skin...
I think that day every man over 80 in the city whose body hadn´t seen the light of day since it came out of the womb thought: "Hey! WHY not today?!"
"I didn´t buy that speedo 53 years ago for nuthin!"

So we left the beach.

In the afternoon we headed up to the ´Christ Redeemer´ statue. You know that huge monument of Jesus that you see in the movies, where they do this huge panoramic wrap-around shot? That´s the one. Recently named one of the seven wonders of the world.
The day we visited was also International Campaign Against AIDS day (Dec 1st) and there was a big ceremony up at the statue with speakers, music, signs, and all of it...in Portuguese. We even walked on some red carpet... in shorts and a stained T-shirt. (It didn´t quite merit my ball-cap status though...) We were also handed out stickers, ribbons, programs and....condoms.
Of all the places in the world where I thought I MIGHT be handed a condom, the worlds largest statue of Jesus wasn´t the first one that came to mind...

The next day was Pizza Sunday (an idea we brilliantly came up with in Peru where Sundays we do nothing(I think someone smarter than us came up with that before us...). In the evening we just eat pizza and drink wine. This way at the end of the trip we will know where to send you for the worlds greatest piece of pizza and glass of wine! Cheers!) This Sunday we got to enjoy our pizza on the Copacobana boardwalk beside the beach and watch the sunset.

This is why I travel.

After supper we decided to dip our feet into the Atlantic to make our ´coast to coast´ experience official...

After about five minutes on the beach we were approached by two guys with knives who started asking for money (undoubtedly the only word they knew in English...) We didn't really have any on us. But they saw my camera slung around my shoulder. They had me on the ground in seconds (they've obviously done this before...) and were grabbing at the camera. My glasses came off and I couldn't see, they started kicking me and poking me with the knives. I started yelling and they covered my mouth. I had trouble fighting at all with my broken arm. I held on to the camera pretty tight, but they kept tugging and the strap snapped. There was a scramble in the sand for it, but I was in pain, and couldn't see.

So they took off with it.

*sigh*

I hope they like my pictures. I´m sorry that we will be missing a few on Facebook from a chunk of our journey. A friend promised to send me some of Iguassu, so I will post those.
So, we spent our R&R day nursing wounds, getting over the surprise (and disgust) at the human race, and shopping for a new camera.

Sing:
"We were mugged down at the Copa, Copacabana!"

Friggen Manilow.

Never really liked that song anyways.

AND I have no girl from Impanema to report either.

Lesson of the day: Life is not like a song.

(Not really like a movie either, otherwise I would have pulled a Jackie Chan on those muggers.)

All in all, we are alive and the adventure continues. We are in Spain. Saying that somehow fixes everything for me... But THAT, my friends, is for another day...
Keep Smiling!
Anthony

Portuguese lesson for the day:
"Sei Kung-Fu, e se você não me der a minha câmera atrás serei conseguido usá-lo!"

"I know Kung-Fu, and if you don´t give me my camera back I´ll be forced to use it!"