Elephants at last......

"Move out the way!" shouted the man as the elephants approached the river.

I thought this was bit of an over reaction, there was plenty of room for him to pass, but I did move slightly more to the side.

Then I realised more elephants were coming behind him. And more....

Great lumbering beasts, so big, so intent on getting to the river. A bit like a crowd of nine year old boys rushing to play, very likely to knock someone with their shoulder by mistake. But these shoulders were huge, I would be toppled and crushed within seconds.

 I moved further back, up some steps leading to a cafe. The elephants lumbered by.

I cannot explain how exciting it was. The thrill of a brass band that vibrates deep inside your being, the thrall of something wonderful and scary all at the same time. Best sight ever.

 They trooped down to the river and then behaved a lot like my family would. 

One stood away from the others and just enjoyed being in the river.

 One submerged completely and just lifted a foot from time to time.

 One squirted himself and anyone near. 

One was very task focussed and had a good wash. 

One tried to organise all the others. I won't name them...

   

We saw them at the Pinnawela Elephant Orphanage. I was slightly worried about how ethical it was - there were some chains and men with sharp sticks and quite a lot of shouting. 

But bull elephants are randy in the spring and need to be controlled, and I don't know anything about rearing elephants (clipping a duck's wings probably looks cruel to someone who doesn't understand) so I will reserve judgement. Certainly they looked happy as they went to the river. And there were lots of warning signs - they hadn't been tamed, they were still wild animals (which I like.)

We saw babies being bottle fed and adults stripping leaves from trees. But nothing compared to the bath in the river.

We hired a car and driver from the hotel. The whole day was good - a chance to see more of Sri Lanka. We saw birds as vibrant blue as a slush puppy, paddy fields being planted with rice, pineapples growing on a bush, a woman leading three porcupines on a lead and stood in rain drops that felt like whole cups of warm water being thrown at us. But really, I just wanted to tell you about the elephants.

I like Sri Lanka. It has an unspoiltness about it. It is the only place I have been that doesn't have a MacDonald's and Costa Coffee as every second shop - perhaps because it's only a few years since the civil war ended, so tourism is just beginning to develop here. If you are planning to visit, come soon, before it changes.

Take care,
Love, Anne

xxxxxxxxxxx

Thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this, why not sign up to follow my blog?

Then my posts will be emailed to you.

anneethompson.com

 

More days in Sri Lanka

Husband went into office, I worked in hotel room, putting through the changes my editor had suggested for my book, Hidden Faces. When I needed a break, I stood on the balcony and absorbed the sea and palm trees. Not bad at all.

Went for a fast walk along sea front. Lots of families, groups of boys in white tunics walking home from their Madras, street vendors, stray dogs sleeping in the sunshine. There's a big Buddhist festival over the next three days and they're decorating the streets with giant lotus flowers and lights and flags.

The weather goes from bright sunshine to complete deluge in a flash, you can watch the storms coming in across the sea. There are signs up warning people not to swim because of dangerous currents and poisonous fish. Booked trip to see elephants tomorrow.

Saturday

We were both ill. Food poisoning. Ghastly. Cancelled trip to see elephants. But at least we both had it at the same time, so only lost one day of holiday. Annoying because I have been very careful, drinking only bottled water and eating only hot cooked foods. Makes you thankful for toilets.

Sunday

Walked past the green and the harbour to fort region. Area more official, lots of armed gates, groups of military. Saw the old customs house, onion shaped roofs, faded Victorian mansions. It is similar to Mumbai, but less intense - fewer smells and colour, less noise, less people.

If we stood still, even for a second, a man would emerge from nowhere, always wearing an open necked shirt, and asked where we were from and would we like a tuktuk, a tour or a cup of tea.

We passed several booths decorated with lanterns and sculptures - I think for the festival, it looked like it might be a competition. Saw a tiny old lady sweeping. Husband raised his thumb at her, told her the booth was "very good." She smiled at him, no teeth, scant hair, ragged clothes, but a beautiful smile. Her whole face lit up. Precious moment.

Looked round the old Dutch hospital - now a complex of gift shops and cafes. The shops were closed for the festival, so I couldn't buy a cushion cover. And I could see them through the door. So close.....

Got a tuktuk back to the hotel. Agreed price beforehand (very important) but when we arrived, he said he had no change and gleefully showed us his empty wallet. Husband said it wasn't a problem and he could wait while husband went into the hotel and got some change.

Had a drink in the bar, under ceiling fans. Watched crows stealing food from the buffet. Listened to them screech while the sea bashed against the beach and the wind stirred the palm trees. Worth coming.

Got a tuktuk to Pettah region. Here they have a station and streets of market stalls. A rabbit warren. It was one of those experiences that feels scary but actually, as long as you kept your wits about you, it was just interesting. The people wanted to sell us stuff (at inflated prices) not murder us.

Hunted for a cushion cover. Not easy with no local language. Tried miming and got shown lots of bedding and pyjamas. In the end I bought some fabric, very ethnic, will make cushion cover when I get home. Then we went to a leather goods stall - lots of shoes and bags and poofs. Husband rather keen on a poof made from buffalo skin with elephant design. Assured me it would make a good (if rather large) cushion. He bargained with the seller and bought it. Lots of smiles all round.

Seller than offered to sell husband "a better tee-shirt", which I thought was hilarious but husband found less amusing. Walked back to hotel along sea front. Loads of people again, all very happy. We are the only white people. I like it here.

Tomorrow we hope to go and see elephants.....

 

 

xxxxxxxx

Thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this, why not sign up to follow my blog?

anneethompson.com

There might be elephants tomorrow......

xxxxxxxxxx

Sri Lanka 1 - Letter to a Sister

I met Husband at the airport (he took back all the Sri Lankan money he had given me!) Flight and everything was fine, though much too long - 10 hours. Whenever I use a washroom on a plane, I always remember my first flight, aged seven, when you told me that if I didn't lower the lid before flushing, I would be sucked out of the aeroplane.

As we flew into Sri Lanka, we could see the extent of the recent floods. In some places they have had nearly 4 cm of rain in a day. We saw destroyed roads, flooded houses, rivers that had burst their banks. Several people have been killed.

Immigration was efficient, then we collected our luggage and walked out through the Duty Free shop. In England (and every other country I have visited) this shop is full of chocolate and alcohol and cigarettes. In Sri Lanka, it's full of washing machines. And fridges. Obviously holidays abroad stimulate the local population into a frenzy of kitchen appliances desire.

As we drove to the hotel, we saw streets of shops selling spare parts for tuk tuks, cars with whole shrines on their dashboards, lots of flooding. We passed Hindu temples, golden Buddhas on round-a-bouts, giant statues of Mary. There were people hanging clothes to dry on wire fences, trees, anywhere they could really. Many of the houses were very simple, made of corrugated iron and bits of wood. Some had cows in their tiny garden area.

Hotel is lovely. Galle Face Hotel, Colombo. It's an old colonial building, full of dark wood, carved elephants and ceiling fans. Our room has a balcony, right next to the Indian Ocean (you would love it.) I feel a little like I have walked into a film set. At 5pm every day they play the bagpipes and lower the flag (a tradition from the 1800s when the British were ruling here.)

 

This evening we walked along the sea front - a bombardment of the senses. Crashing waves and a babble of languages mingle with fried seafood and spun sugar. Children playing, kites flying, an ancient snake charmer, joined by his friend with a monkey, as the sun dipped behind the brick built pier, silhouetting groups of men and families.

  

I've never seen a snake charmer before. He took the lid off his basket and played his pipe and a snake - think it was a cobra - rose up. Then the snake got bored and started to slide towards us, so we left - he was bit of a naughty snake!

We ate dinner in the hotel buffet. Very nice, though the Sri Lankan idea of 'very mild' for a curry is somewhat different to mine! We watched a man frying hoppers - they'e bowl shaped pancakes, made with flour, egg, coconut milk and yeast. Delicious. You fill them with something savoury and roll them up to eat with your right hand (using your left hand - the toilet hand - is a bad mistake to make.)

While we are here, I really want to see some elephants. There is an elephant orphanage, which is where the government care for elephants that have been abandoned. It’s more of a reservation than a park/zoo I think, so am hoping it’s well run (and has happy elephants.) I'll let you know if I do.

Take care,
Love, Anne x

Thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this (and would like to know if I manage to see some elephants)
why not sign up to follow my blog?

anneethompson.com

xxxxxxxxxx

Letter to a Sister - Planning a Trip

You can read my sister's letter at:

http://ruthdalyauthor.blogspot.ca/2016/05/spring-and-spring-cleaning-letters-to.html

Thanks for your letter. I smiled when you mentioned your dentist's age. I'm always a bit shocked by how young the rest of the world is becoming. When I was in hospital I had lots of children looking after me - I kept wanting to ask if their mothers knew where they were. Mostly they were doctors.

I'm slightly stressed this week. Tomorrow we go to Sri Lanka. As you know, I am not a relaxed traveller. I also prefer to cope with things as they arise, I find that thinking about problems ahead of time adds to the stress. Husband is the opposite. He likes to think through every eventuality and plan accordingly (ex Boy Scout and all that.) So, yesterday we went for a nice relaxing walk and he started to discuss the trip.

It's a work trip, Husband will be in the office and I will be trying to rewrite the changes to my book that the editor has suggested. Seeing the country will be an extra treat if it fits around his work schedule, with a couple of days holiday at the end. This means his company is paying for his flights and hotels. Which means, if something urgent happens in London, they might decide he has to postpone. My flights and expenses are paid for by us. If something urgent comes up at home, I will ignore it. Or lose my flight.

So, yesterday, on our relaxing walk, Husband tells me that tomorrow he will be working in London during the day, so I will have to meet him at Heathrow. That's okay. He doesn't want to take his luggage, so I will transport that for him. Also okay. If he is delayed, I will need to check in before he arrives. Less okay. If he is very delayed, he will catch a later flight but I cannot change mine, so I will need to fly out on my own. Even less okay, but I will cope. If something urgent arises, he might join me in a day or too. Not what I was hoping. The hotel is booked, but Sri Lanka is currently having a cyclone, so if the hotel is flooded, it might be shut and I will need to book another one when I arrive. This is not something I want to think about. It probably won't happen, if it does, I will think about it when I am in Sri Lanka. Am feeling even less relaxed about the trip now.

If I ever arrive in Sri Lanka and find a hotel, I will tell you how I get on. If you never hear from me again, I am somewhere in the world with two large suitcases and a long list of instructions. Please look after Mum.

Love, Anne x

xxxxxxxx

Thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this (and would like to know if I survive), why not sign up to follow my blog?

Then you will receive all my posts by email - usually one or two a week.

anneethompson.com

XxxxxxxxX

Organising a Football Quiz...

Letter to a Sister – Football Quiz

1

We organised a Football Quiz. Not really my kind of event, but apparently there are several people who enjoy football, so we hoped some ‘non church’ people might come and realise that we’re not too scary after all. (I was going to write “not too odd”, but I thought that might be stretching things a bit!)

So, we asked our friend who is a professional footballer if he would come (do you say ‘plays’ football if someone does it professionally? Not sure, feels like wrong verb) We persuaded brother he would like to make up some questions and got some fliers printed up. We held it in the church hall, people registered their teams online in advance and brought their own snacks and drinks. We didn’t charge, but there were collecting tubs for donations to Tearfund.

It was a good event. This was partly because brother did an actually rather brilliant quiz and partly because it seems quite a few people are rather keen to meet footballer friend (Julian Speroni, who plays in goal for Crystal Palace FC.) Husband was on hand to sort logistics, Minister did the introducing and interviewing Julian bit and I dutifully hovered to help where needed. (I wouldn’t exactly say that football is possibly the most boring game ever – but I did take a book to read….)

When we arrived at church, it had been repainted and all the internal signs had been removed. Might have caused confusion toilet wise. We have three toilets at our church, with a middle one for people wanting to change babies’ nappies or needing disabled supports. I therefore made three signs. Decided to label them ‘Ladies’, Gents’ and ‘Undecided’. Was slightly worried I might forget to move them before the service on Sunday (some church members don’t always get my humour) but it was fine.

Mum had advertised the event for us, and some of her friends made a team. They recognised me and asked which person was brother. I pointed to Julian (he’s better looking than brother, thought it might improve our general family impression.) They just looked confused, so I think they knew I was lying.

After the quiz, Julian was interviewed, then fielded questions from the audience (about his salary, place on the team and retirement plans. People didn’t hold back! ) His talk was good (didn’t read my book for that bit.) He talked about training in Argentina and sending a video of his playing to other teams. He was offered a place in Dundee, so moved over. He said that learning English was a challenge, with a Scottish teacher, and Italian and Chinese fellow students to practise conversation with!

He also talked about how he attended an Alpha course, how he realised that God is real and has a plan for his life. Even professional footballers need God.

I guess that’s the whole point really. To me, Julian is ‘just a bloke’, it seems very strange that people would want his autograph or to shake his hand. God sees past all that, he knows that Julian is ‘just a bloke’ too, one that he loves and wants to help and give direction for his life. Just like us, we are ‘just people’ too, underneath all our make-up and talents and insecurities. We need God too.

The quiz had a winning team. They won a football shirt, signed by all the players. Never mind, if they wash it on a hot wash it will probably come clean again.

Have a good week,
Take care,
Love, Anne x

xxxxxxxx

Thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed reading this, why not sign up to follow my blog?
Then you will receive all my posts by email – usually one or two per week.

anneethompson.com

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dentists and Foxes...

Letter to a Sister – Dentists and Foxes

1

Hi Ruth,

Thanks for your letter. Yes, I DO remember that dentist, though I can’t remember his name. He raised his hand to me once, and the nurse had to tell him to calm down. I’m sure it’s why I hate going to the dentist too, even for check-ups. It is probably my only real phobia. Completely irrational because even when it hurts, it’s never anything major. As soon as I walk in, the smell of that disinfectant and the sound of the machines is enough to make me rush to the loo! So good luck, and try not to faint (though actually, that would make a good story for the blog….)

It is nice being at home after our travels. I love my home, I could easily become a recluse so I have to force myself to do things and to accept invitations. My children tell me I am nutty enough, refusing to leave the house would be one step too far. Husband has some work in Sri Lanka soon, so I might go there too.

It was lovely to see the animals again. The ducklings and chicks were much bigger, probably twice the size. The two boys who looked after them for me seem to have enjoyed having them, though they did tell me that the amount of poop they have started to produce made it less fun. I am putting them outside now (the birds, not the boys). They go into the chicken aviary during the day, and I bring them back into the garage every evening. When they have more feathers they can stay out all night. This is probably overly fussy of me, as in the wild there is no way they would fit under the mother, but I would feel guilty if we had a cold spell and they died. They are at the scruffy ‘teenager’ stage, with scraggy feathers beginning to show and big feet, though they look tiny in the big cage.

  

I’m trying to introduce them to the adult chickens. I’ve never done this before, as usually I get one of the hens to go broody and raise them as part of the existing flock. At the moment, I am shutting a couple of hens in with them during the day. Next week I’ll leave the whole flock shut in with them and watch to see what happens. It’s much easier if the flock will accept them because they will show the new chicks how to roost at night and they will all share the same space. If they start to attack them – which is horribly possible as chickens are generally vicious – then they will have to share the duck cage and the chickens will grow up thinking they are ducks – ducks that dislike water……do hope they don’t get a complex.

I lost one of my cockerels – the beautiful black and white one. He didn’t turn up at dusk, which is when they all arrive back at the big cage and I lock them in so they’re safe for the night. I’m not sure whether the two cockerels had a fight and he was injured, they have had a few stand-offs since we’ve been back. The house sitter leaves them in the cage all day, so when I returned and let them in to the garden, it was as if they had new territory to fight over. Either that or a fox did a sneaky raid. I found a pile of feathers next to the hedge.

Maybe as Kia has been away, the foxes have started including our garden in their territory. I have left Kia outside a lot since we got home. She keeps giving me dirty looks through the kitchen window, but I need her outside for a while, so the fox learns to keep away. This time of year is always bad for foxes – the young males go a bit silly looking for a mate and you see them at odd times (really they should only be out from dusk.) The worst is when the vixens start calling, it sounds like someone is being raped. Awful noise. I’m not keen on foxes around houses – I do wish people wouldn’t feed them, they are meant to be wild animals, wary of humans.

The person looking after Kia gave her a haircut. This was unexpected, though actually she looks quite smart and I guess it will be cooler for her now the summer is here (being optimistic weather wise.)

I’m cooking for the oldies for the next few weeks. Am trying a new recipe (a made up one – great potential for disaster). I’ll let you know how it goes.

Take care,
Love, Anne x

You can read my sister’s letter at :

http://ruthdalyauthor.blogspot.co.uk/2016/05/dentists-and-cemeteries-letters-to.html

xxxxxxxx

Thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this, why not sign up to follow my blog?

anneethompson.com

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Last Day continued…..

1

So, after visiting the little town, we drove out to La Pampa – the grassy plains, and to a ranch. The road to the ranch was a dirt track, but still really wide (four lanes wide!) ALL the roads in Argentina seem to be very wide.

The ranch we visited was called Portenia Estancia, and was used for a film with Antonio Banderos and Emma Thompson. It was also the home of an author, Ricardo Guiraldas (who wrote a very famous book about gauchos, but when I tried to buy it on Amazon, I either have to pay about £700 for an English copy or learn fluent Spanish or Italian. Will wait for a Kindle version.)

We were shown around the house and gardens, and given snacks and lunch. Again, it felt more like we were guests than tourists, people were very friendly and hospitable.

A gaucho, Fredisco Pereyra, took us riding. We were given polite, slow horses as neither of us can ride. One of the horses walked through bushes to cut corners, was incredibly slow and walked along chewing lumps of tree (accountants aren’t necessarily great with animals.) We saw lots of cattle, pigs, horses, dogs. Mostly we saw grass – as far as you could see, stretching across the great flat plains. There were lots of clumps of pampas grass, which I assume is where it got its name ( It’s huge, you could fit several of England into the space.)

Lunch was at a long table in a room with a fire at one end. There were flowers on the table and we were served meats and salads, then pancakes with dolce latte and bananas. Along the table were people with other tour guides, so we listened to a range of languages and chatted with different people. After lunch, the gauchos played the guitar and sang some folk songs (which actually, was very tuneful, so was nice rather than embarrassing) and we were shown some traditional dances.

    

There were lots of animals : dogs and puppies, pigs and piglets, horses and cattle. They all roamed free. It was how I felt animals should live. I have no problem with eating meat, but I do think animals should be free and happy while they are alive, not pumped full of hormones and kept in cages. I don’t think you could get much more ‘free range’ than the animals we saw.

The national bird of Argentina is rufous hornero, we saw lots of the nests. They look a bit like House Martin nests in England and have a little hole which always faces north (because here, north is warm. I never got used to that, in my mind, north is cold!) The gauchos use the bird nests for orienteering, even if there is no sun, they can see which way is north.

Came back tired but happy. I have found a mosquito bite on my forehead, which is very annoying as I smothered myself in repellent. They have dengue fever in Argentina, so I am hoping this was a healthy mosquito.

The film (which shows the estancia we visited), ‘Imagining Argentina’ is a bit odd. I think the people at the estancia were slightly embarrassed by it, and I wonder if they had realised before it was released what it was about, as it didn’t show Argentina in a very good light. It’s not at all the sort of film I would usually watch, as it was horribly violent and a bit weird, but it was interesting to see places that we visited. It shows the story of Argentina during the late 1970’s, when the regime refused to allow any opposition. It was a time when lots of people went missing, they became known as ‘The Disappeared’. I had no idea, before we visited Buenos Aires, of any of the history. In my guide book, it said that every Thursday there is a procession of women outside Casa Rosada, protesting about the Disappeared. They are still waiting for information about their sons, husbands, sisters. I didn’t go to look, so I don’t know if the women are there are not. But that so many people disappeared – estimates of 30,000 people went missing between mid 1970s and 1982, when the regime collapsed following the war over the Falkland Islands – is terrible. It reminded me of stories about the old Soviet Union. As I said, I had never heard, I had no idea what was happening. It is very easy to ignore the circumstances in countries that don’t affect us. But the world is small, these places are accessible, the people are the same as us.

Argentina still has political problems, especially with their economy. But it has excellent natural resources and an intelligent, educated population. Buenos Aires is like a faded Paris. With the right governance, it could  be a very different place in the near future. We won’t sell our left over pesos, they would be worth very little with the exchange rate now anyway. In a couple of years, I think they will be worth significantly more. If I had money to invest, I think I would invest in Argentina. The new government seems a sensible one.

Tomorrow we go home. It has been a lovely trip, though I’m quite looking forward to being home again. I wonder how much the ducklings will have grown and if the eggs by the pond have hatched yet.

If ever you come here, the two things you MUST do are eat alfajores with your coffee and visit a parrilla (the Argentinian version of a grilled meat restaurant. They cook roughly a whole cow at a time.)

I would also recommend that you try to avoid coming with someone who only knows some of the words to, “Don’t Cry For Me Argentina”, but who sings it every time you pass a monument to Evita. There are lots of these monuments in Argentina, trust me.

Bye for now,
Anne x

Thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this, why not sign up to follow my blog?

anneethompson.com

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Final day in Argentina

Final Day in Argentina – A Letter

Today was our last day. We paid for a tour out of the city, booked through the hotel with ‘Signature Tours’ (www.signaturetours.com.ar) – it was brilliant. We wanted to see La pampas, the cattle rearing plains of Argentina. As it’s ‘low season’ it was just the two of us and a man in his car. He drove us out of the city, explaining things about the buildings as we passed them, so we started to understand a little more about Argentina. He then took us to a town and a ranch, introducing us to various people and showing us different places. It was all very friendly, it felt more like an acquaintance introducing us to his friends than a paid tour guide. It was also nice because, unlike on other tours we have done, we weren’t taken somewhere random (like a jade factory) and then left in awkward silence while the owner waits for us to buy something that we don’t really want. This guide didn’t even take us into the shop part of the places we visited, he wanted to show us things, not sell us things.

As we left Buenos Aires, we passed some poorer areas, they looked like the favelas we saw in Brazil, though maybe not quite as poor. Marcello told us that they were mostly occupied by immigrants from Peru, Paraguay, Chile. He said they work hard, often in construction, and are gradually moving to different areas. I asked if the homeless people that we saw on the streets were also immigrants, but he said that no, they were probably Argentinians. Economics are very hard here, due to the very high inflation. Everyone is hopeful that the newly elected government can turn things around in the next couple of years.

Marcello also told us about the gauchos that we’d be seeing. They are mainly men who work with cattle. They wear either hats (cowboy hats) or berets. The ranches, which are called “estancia” breed cattle, plus horses for working, polo and racing.

We went to the little town of San Antonio Areco. My favourite bit was the gaucho bars, I felt like I had walked into a cowboy film. The are still used today, though they’ve preserved the historical features. There was a post outside, for tying up the horses. Inside, the walls were shelved to the ceiling and full of ancient bottles of liquor, soap, shoes, tins of tea – all the things that the gauchos would have come into town to buy. The counter used to have bars all along it, with little windows for the drinks to be passed through, a bit like the railings or glass screens that you get in banks and post-offices today. This was to protect the staff and stock from the rowdy gauchos in an age when alcohol was more expensive. Is this where the term ‘bar’ originates from? (Tell me if you know!) The floors were tiled, there were ceiling fans and even an old fashioned til. You could so imagine a cowboy walking in and shooting all the bottles.

     

We also saw silver smiths at work. They make lots of horse related things – cups for polo matches, silver versions of the things that gauchos carry, horse ornaments. The gauchos carry knives (you can buy them in silver sheaves) and boleadoras. These were originally stones, wrapped in leather at the end of ropes. The gauchos would throw them, lasso style, at the legs of ostriches, to catch them. You can now buy silver versions, the stones in leather replaced with ornate silver balls. The work with silver was an incredibly slow, careful process. The designs were beautiful, real works of art. You would have to be both very artistic and very patient to do their job.

We saw a cheese and meat shop. The locals go there after work, for a platter of nibbles and a drink and chat (there were tables at the back.)

We saw a chocolate shop. They make the chocolate themselves from cacao, so we saw the beans and husks – which were much bigger than I expected, almost the size of coconuts. The bean is inside and they heat it first, to separate the cacao and the butter (which is white, but hard – more like chalk than butter.) They then add milk and sugar to make the chocolate. I would’ve liked to watch the process with the bean, but we weren’t taken to see that bit, we could only watch them work with the melted chocolate, through a glass panel.

 A traditional drink in Argentina, called ‘mate’ (pronounced ‘mah-tae’). The straws have a filter and people walk around drinking it. It’s a herb, like a bitter tea.

 

The silversmith’s work bench and the cheese shop

 A cacao bean next to the husk.

We then went to the ranch. This letter is getting a bit long, plus I want to tell you a little about the past in Argentina, the regimes and “The Disappeared”, so I’ll finish now and write again tomorrow.

Take care,
Anne x

Thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this, why not sign up to follow my blog?

anneethompson.com

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx