Spooky seas

After mostly clear and occasionally sunny weather, this afternoon the ship was travelling in an eerie mist, with no visibility in any direction. It would have made an excellent setting for a Stephen King story.

Water, water everywhere

And here's today's report from the not-quite Ancient Mariner (who did in fact see several albatrosses today, and shot none.) We're in the middle of the Scotia Sea, and won't get to South Georgia until late Wednesday, so water was really the only thing to photograph today. (Though if you look in the middle of the picture on the left you can see a giant petrel following in the ship's wake and enjoying all the fish and nutrients our engines churn up to the surface. I'll try to get an albatross tomorrow.)

And of course a sunset, because I like sunsets. The sun isn't setting particularly late here, where it's after all early summer, but you can tell how far south we are by its stubborn reluctance to disappear. It sinks slowly, and the red skies linger for hours.

We had our mandatory briefing on the rules for visiting Antarctica and got our boots fitted, and otherwise I read, wrote, ate, and talked to some fellow passengers. The seas aren't so rough that you really notice when you're sitting down (we won't cross the Drake Passage until the end of the trip) but when you stand up and try to walk it's a shock every time. Why is the floor moving?

Sunday bird blogging

I left Santiago early this morning, and flew to Punta Arenas, and then to the improbably named Puerto Williams, a city on the Beagle Channel in Tierra del Fuego.

Now I'm on a ship heading to South Georgia, and then the Antarctic Peninsula. A few weeks ago when I was so sick I wasn't sure I was going to be able to do this but here I am, with the familiar soothing sound of the waves outside and that rumbly, rocking motion under my feet.

We were only in Puerto Williams long enough to board the ship and have our safety briefing before sailing, but I already saw three new birds.

This is one of them—the Magellanic cormorant, also known as the rock shag. They were nesting on some old posts in the water near where the ship was anchored. I have a better picture of the adults, but I love that in this one, one of the fledglings (those grayish lumps that look like large dust bunnies are actually baby birds) has a foot poking out of the nest.

Saturday reflections

I took this picture from my hotel room in Santiago, so that's presumably my hotel in the reflection (and a teeny-tiny Kathleen with a camera in there somewhere.)

I have to be on a bus to the airport at 6 am, so I'm glad I scheduled an extra day to just rest up and enjoy the last of the warm weather for a few weeks. I already saw most of what I'd like to see in Santiago when I was here in 2018, so apart from walking to the mall to buy a case for my Copacabana sunglasses, I mostly sat in the beautiful gardens and did as little as possible.

Random things I saw on Copacabana Beach

I didn't really understand the art installation or why it features Elton John, but it made me smile. And I love the platinum hair on those boys—this is apparently a favela style inspired by footballers.

I wasn't kidding about the bikinis

Someone must be buying these or this woman would not be lugging this contraption up and down Copacabana Beach on Christmas Day.

My hero

Today was brilliantly sunny and I had breakfast outside overlooking the water. Unfortunately when I went to put on my sunglasses they were nowhere to be found—I'm guessing they fell out of my bag during the tour yesterday.

And of course everything was closed today, including the hotel gift shop, but it occurred to me that if they have vendors selling bikinis on Copacabana Beach (and they do, although I remain confused about why you would wait until you were already at the beach to buy one) I might be able to find someone selling sunglasses. And I did.

This kind gentleman wanted 200 reals for the glasses (about $31) but accepted 130 when that was all I had. Strolling along the beach immediately became more pleasant, and I was able to spend a few hours by the pool this afternoon as well.

Where I managed to get a sunburn on the tops of my feet because I forgot to apply sunscreen there. It's been a long time since I was outside in a bathing suit.

Chinese Vista

Our tour guide yesterday swore that this overlook in Tijuca National Park is the best view of Rio, better than Sugar Loaf or Christ the Redeemer. I haven't seen the other views yet, but this one was quite impressive even on a gray day.

It's called the Vista Chinesa as a tribute to the Chinese workers who came to Brazil when tea started to be grown here. There's a small pagoda, but honestly I barely noticed it once I saw the view. The water between the trees and the mountains is a lagoon that lies in the middle of the city. Copacabana, where I'm staying, is on the other side of the big mountain.

That's better

The view from the hotel this morning. It's already clouded over again, but at least I got to confirm that Sugar Loaf does actually exist!

A long sleep and a few cups of coffee (plus the improved weather) worked their usual magic and Rio looks much better to me today than it did yesterday.

The journey here was mostly smooth, with one unpleasant wrinkle—I'd used miles to upgrade to business class so I could sleep, but it turned out that my seat refused to recline. They've replaced the push-button controls with a touch screen and mine didn't work, despite several attempts to reboot. Finally an intrepid flight attendant got down on the floor with an iPhone flashlight and disconnected enough of the machinery to get the seat flat. Or mostly flat; there was a lump in the middle that wasn't very comfortable, and of course I couldn't raise the seat back in the morning, so had to eat breakfast sitting cross-legged on what was now basically a bench.

I didn't especially enjoy trudging around Copacabana in the rain yesterday afternoon, but I'm looking forward to the Botanical Gardens this afternoon. And there are flocks of frigate birds in the sky!

When my baby, when my baby smiles at me I go to Rio

This time it really is Rio.

De Janeiro.

My-oh-me-oh.

Though that might not be your first guess looking at this picture, taken on Copacabana Beach this afternoon—it looks a lot more like the chilly Northern California beaches of my childhood. I'm here until Friday and it's scheduled to rain every day, but at least, despite appearances, it's not cold.

White (almost) Christmas

Everything does look more Christmasy when the snow is real. (That reindeer, however, looks more like a giant dog.)

Saturday reflections

A car on West 43rd Street.

I was surprised and delighted to wake up to a world covered in snow this morning. It's already disappearing, even though it's well below freezing outside, but I think it still counts as a White Christmas.

Urban poetry

I don't think the reds and greens in this picture have anything to do with Christmas—I think the occupants just have eccentric tastes—but it's appropriate for the beginning of winter, and the week before Christmas.

I'm heading south Sunday night and looking forward to spending a lazy Christmas somewhere warm. I was violently sick with a horrible stomach bug recently and worried I'd have to cancel the trip. I feel fine now, but still feel like I might jinx myself if I say too much.

Sunday bird blogging

Gentoo penguins in Antarctica in 2018. I took several pictures of this group; I loved the way they waited in line to dive into the water,

I'm on vacation; after a rough week recovering from a very nasty stomach virus, I find that all I want to do is lie around, read, and eat the tamales one of my students brought to the party yesterday, with extras for me to take home because she knows I love them.

Sunday bird blogging

Speaking of snow....

This picture of a cardinal is several years old, from the last serious snow I remember in Central Park.

The monochrome months are here

Autumn arrives later and leaves earlier every year now, leaving us in what feels like endless grays and sepias.

Winter has its own beauties, but now that we seldom get snow anymore, it can definitely be monotonous. Brown, brown, brown, brown. Oh, look—gray!

Here are two pictures from Inwood Hill Park last winter, one a little filtered, one not.