Gah, bloody tourism. Why can´t I just sit in a darkened room...

Right, another quicky. We´re now in ValPareiso (I think), on the coast...

So, yes, Defcon one. We had a big dinner, then proceeded to drink as much Chillian red as humanly possible. Meg got pretty smashed, and insisted we all go dancing. So, Mike, Strudel and I left the cabin (where everyone had gathered) and headed out to the snow pub. The snow was falling heavily, and on the way, we stopped into a pub restaurant with a guy on keyboards and the boredest looking bongo player I´ve ever seen (and I´ve seen a few, believe me). Poor guy. I bet he was a guitarist who got sentenced to three years on the bongos for some misdemeanor. Anyway, we scored some Caprihinias (I still don´t know how to spell it, but definitely know they´re better than Mojitos), then moved on to the snowpub, where we found Tim propping up the bar...

´Hi Tim, how are you?´
´I´ve drunken two hundred ounces of beer today.´
´Oh, um, right.´
´Did you ever do something then realise afterwards it might have been a reall bad thing to do?´
´Well, striking up this conversation..´
´What?´
´Oh, nothing. What did you do?´
´Turned over a table Jeff was sitting on?´
´!´
´Well, he told me to get out of his face, so I turned the table over.´
´Um, ah, a-ha, really? Um, oh.´
´Yeah, f&%$ing jock fly-boy pilot...´
´Hang on, I need the bathroom.´
So, yes, interesting times. I retreated to the other end of the bar...

Dang, they´re circling again. The CDs are finished and the girls are getting restless. Gotta go. Damned holiday, getting in the way of my PC usage...