It’s great how a simple word from a friend can make your week.

After 5 days in Sao Paulo, I had learned enough Portuguese to order at cafes and restaurants, ask for directions, even carry on polite conference conversation. It ruined my Spanish. Well, it ruined the little Spanish I knew from my years as a Pedro Almodovar fan, and from American cop shows (the first words being las drogas and los assissinos). Two days so far and for some reason I keep getting hot chocolate instead of espresso.

Yesterday I was saved for the day by two lovely Chilean lads, Jaime, a Porticus fellow and Santiago resident, and his son, also named Jaime. First they took me to the Gran Mercado de Santiago, that was lined with small seafood restaurants with little men who accosted us, as they do in Lygon St. I was impressed by their grasp of Strine. Their “G’day mate” and “‘Ow ya goen?” were impeccable.

El Museo de Bellas Artes was bliss. The Chileans know postmodern art and embrace it. I saw  paintings of machines giving birth, of horses running gleefully through nothingness, of Jesus toting machine guns above papal and presidential marionettes. It was here that I decided to email Fran, a colleague in Melbourne who grew up in Santiago, and is presently fielding all my work calls, that I had fallen in love and wasn’t coming back.

Then mi amigo Jaime, y mi otro amigo Jaime, took a trek up Santa Lucia, a hill in the centre of town where sits an old fort built by the Spaniards to kill as many indigenous people from above. From there we could see the city in its truth, as a point among massive mountains of cloud and snow. It was either love or vertigo, or maybe they are the same thing.

What a beautiful old city. The architecture is breathtaking, and there are some fantastic displays of urban art. I didn’t realise how classy my hotel room is, but a lot nicer than any of the modern hotels we get now. Really good luck on my part. The flu is slowly going away, thanks to a lot of sleep last night. But there is now way I was going to allow myself to miss any daylight hours here. I’m waiting for Jaime and his son to meet me so I’m posting these photos now. By the way , I must be close to the honeymoon suite; some fantastic sounds coming through the walls here. Gotta love South America!!!

The rest of the conference seemed a little lighter after I did my bits. I was very tired. I had been enjoying too many caipirinhas at night with Ryan, Craig and Curtis - perhaps I drank more in the week than I had done all year - couldn’t help myself; too goddamn tasty. I noticed that people were walking around in T-shirts when I was in a jumper and jacket and shivering. By the end of conference on Thursday night I realised I was having the shakes, and knew it was flu. By that time I had made plans to go out samba dancing, touring the centre of Sao Paulo. Instead I spent thirty hours in bed. I’m now in the airport on the way to Santiago for three days of touring, but I’m sure not much will be done. More sleep, less fun. Poo.