Articles tagged with "twilight"
I found a great place to camp, with no-one else around. It was really nice to be up in the Sierra de Ramón with awesome views of the city. And even though I was nearly 2000m above sea level, it was still a warm night. I watched the sunset, saw the city light up, and the stars coming out, and after that I slept well.
Summer has been very late coming to Santiago in 2015, El Niño giving us a huge amount more grey cloudy weather than normal. But today was beautiful, so I went to Cerro Carbón in the evening. I thought I might go all the way to the top and see the sunset from there, but I left a bit late, and only had time to get to Mirador El Litre before it was dark. A few hill runners came down after nightfall, and I could see a light on top of Cerro Manquehue. It looked like someone was camping up there. Meanwhile, the city lights came on, and Santiago looked awesome.
The day after the Pedra da Gavea climb, I went to Corcovado. I was tempted to climb that as well, but I kept reading about robberies on the trail and in the end I decided just to get the bus up. Tiredness from the day before may also have been a factor.
So I got the bus up, getting charged the high season fare even though I was the only passenger, because supposedly it was the school holidays. And it was pretty crowded up the top. But as the sun set and the views got better and better, it got quieter and more peaceful.
It was a nice evening with much less smog that when I’d climbed Cerro Carbón a few days ago. I decided to head up the trail again, but just to Mirador El Litre, half way up the mountain, for some evening views of the city. I cycled from my house to La Piramide and realised when I got there that I’d left my bike lock at home. So I dragged the bike up the hill a little way, vaguely hid it in some undergrowth, and hoped there were no bike thieves around.
The evening views from the mirador were pretty awesome and I stayed until it was dark. Coming down the hill was scarier than I’d anticipated – my torch suddenly lit up two red eyes on the trail ahead of me, and I approached cautiously. Then, suddenly, as I got closer, there was an loud flap and the bird I’d woken up took off, almost flying into my face.
Back at the bottom, I found my bike still where I’d left it, and cycled home.
The Milky Way crosses the sky over two of the Auxiliary Telescopes. The sky looked pretty dark to the naked eye but in the long exposure it turned out to be full of strong red airglow. Around sunset, there are usually lots of satellites visible crossing the sky, and a few can be seen in this photo.
I got a bus from Natal to Salvador, and then a boat to Morro de São Paulo. The bus journey was 21 hours long, and it was fun to see a bit of Brazil as we left Rio Grande do Norte, passed through Paraíba, Pernambuco, Alagoas and Sergipe states and finally reached Bahía. In Salvador I got a taxi to the ferry terminal, and bought a ticket for a speedboat to Morro de São Paulo. I’d read that this was a notorious vomit run so I was a bit worried. I really thought I could do without being sick throughout the two hour crossing. But I’d hardly eaten anything since leaving Natal – the roadside cafes we’d stopped at hadn’t had too many vegetarian options – so I thought I at least wouldn’t have very much to throw up.
Before we left, the boat people gave us all plastic bags and tissues. This didn’t look promising. But about five minutes after leaving Salvador, I was feeling fine. The boat was already bouncing crazily across the waves, and I couldn’t see the horizon from where I was sat, but I felt fine. I thought it was a bit early to be counting my chickens, but then I looked around and saw another passenger already with his face deep in the bag, vomiting heartily. I felt bad for him, but a little bit relieved that I hadn’t been the first to go down.
Also travelling was a group of gap-year French kids. They were pretending to be having no problems, laughing and joking, but before very long one of them was looking a bit queasy, and soon they too gave in to the chundering. One by one the others quietened down, the joking stopped, the colour drained from their faces, and eventually I gave away my sick bag to the group because they’d filled all theirs.
But miraculously I was still fine. Me and a family of locals were the only ones not using the bags, but they were all looking pretty unhappy. The longer the journey went on, the finer I felt, and schadenfreude improved my mood still further, so by the time we docked at Morro de São Paulo I was feeling smug and invincible. I leapt from the boat and swaggered into the village, leaving the weaker ones to stumble shakily up the hill in my wake.