Globetrotter meetings have temporarily ceased until further notice due to a bereavement in Christina’s family. If you can help Christina resurrect the Texas meetings, as she would really appreciate some help, please contact Christina on texas@globetrotters.co.uk

We are sorry to say that Mac is not very well, but he is still e-mailing strong and recently sent the Beetle a collection of Mac reminiscences including those about a hotel room with a vibrating bed and an Indian astrologer.

I am reminded in my correspondence about travel of a vibrating bed I found one time on checking into a budget hotel in Hong Kong. I discovered after I had checked in that it was a rendezvous hotel for Chinese older citizens. No young people checked in but older Chinese that wanted a romantic interlude. I was slow to catch on. There were mirrors on the ceiling and on the wall and I thought gee this is unusual for a budget hotel. I laid down and thought I was switching off the light switch and I switched on the switch that started the bed to rumbling. I at first thought it was an earthquake. I am always slow to catch on.

I one time was on a bus in Mexico City when there was an earthquake and I thought it was just a rough road and bus with bad springs. When I got to my destination everyone was out on the street from that budget hotel. I knew a lady there that had been in same hotel in San Miguel De Allende. The hotel in Mexico City was run by a religious order something like the Quakers. She volunteered there and laughed when I asked her why everyone was out in the street to greet me! Incidentally the hotel in Hong Kong was called The Hilton. They swiped the name from the more expensive Hilton Hotel. It is like calling a hotel The Ritz when it is anything but the Ritz. I really liked that hotel though. It had windows you could open and look out on very busy street. I had been on a package tour where the four or five star deluxe hotel in Hong Kong that was included had been so cold and I could never get the air conditioning off. My cheap hotel had overhead fan which I liked better. The deluxe hotel had a mat in elevator that gave you the day of the week each day woven into the mat. They had a grand piano on a float in pond but for some reason I was never comfortable there so at the end of the tour I moved into the unusual budget hotel and was happy there. It was in a less touristy part of Nathan Road at maybe in the direction of Nathan Road. Just ask for the other Hilton.

I just read that a writer wrote that Charles De Gaulle Airport in Paris is a “Third World Airport” It brought out some travel memories. After getting radiation for prostrate cancer I started travelling before I was completely well. At a stop on a tour bus in southern India I started to get up from my seat when I realized I had bled from my rear end onto the seat. I didn’t want to panic the Indian tourists so decided I would sit in my seat until they were all off and then run like hell. All were off but one Indian gentleman who stopped by my seat on way out and asked if I was alright. For some strange reason I blurted out my problem. It turned out he was an Indian doctor who was a cancer specialist at Sloane Kettering Cancer Hospital in New York City and just on vacation in India. He gave me some medicine to stop the bleeding and gave me address of where he was staying in New Delhi if I needed more help.

I continued on to Paris and at Charles De Gaulle airport I started bleeding again. Although I had a ticket on Air France for security reasons they would not let me use their toilet. I went down the street to a police station and by hand motions (not an easy thing to do) asked if could use their toilet. They did not arrest me for obscenity but directed me to their toilet that they evidently had criminals use. It had no door so they at desk could watch the prisoners when in toilet I guess.

I did not want them to know I was bleeding so had to wipe myself as far as possible out of their sight. I then went to a Protestant church (closer than Catholic) and by chance there was an American Protestant minister there and I asked him if there was a military hospital or American hospital. He tried to get thorough to American Embassy but couldn’t to ask them. By this time I had stopped bleeding and went back to airport and still made flight out. On that experience I too call Charles De Gaulle airport a turd world airport.

In New Delhi at the YWCA (they took men as well as women) I had to share my room with another Indian doctor. This time a dentist. He said he could tell my fortune but had to wait until the sun came up in the morning. He told me I had cancer and that I had been in the military and some other things that I had not told him (unless I talked in my sleep) That too was a little strange.

Another experience I had with Air France was that in South America they have a cheap flight from French Guinea to France. People from all over South American go to French Guinea to catch this flight. The flight started in Peru I believe but I picked it up in Northern Brazil (the town on the Amazon I cant think of its name) There was only three of us passengers on this huge 747 and all they gave us was a stale roll. When I asked if I could have a second one I was told they did not have enough. So much for French cuisine. Maybe they picked up their food in French Guinea along with most of the passengers.

I was only going as far at French Guinea. They had French Foreign Legion at their airport as guards. They wanted each of us three to go in separate taxis into town. I showed them my retired military ID and they let us all go then in same taxi. Maybe they thought I was an official. The hotels were full so we had to stay in a French whore house. People from British guinea would come over to use it. It was a hotel but the girls were upstairs. We could not get a room until three AM when night’s activities were over. I got to my room and I got a phone call and I was told I had to go to a doctor. I was told that the girl from that room was sick. I said there has been no girl in this room. They apologized. I went down stairs as it was now about six Am and there was the other two from airplane and we decided to walk into town to see if we could find open cafe. The other passengers were a European that ran a taxi in New York City. He would work long enough until he had enough money to travel and then he and his wife would travel. The other passenger was a European writer for Mad Magazine. He was delighted with our unusual hotel and said: “this is just like in the movies!” Travel can be fun, well, at least interesting!

If you would like to contact Mac, he is happy to answer e-mails: macsan400@yahoo.com

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This is the first in a series of trip reports sent to the Beetle by Globetrotter Steve who is travelling around South America and Easter Island, the lucky chap! So, if you are planning trip to South America or are interested in knowing more about it, you may find Steve’s trip reports of interest.

The bus to La Serena was comfortable and the road a paved dual carriageway so the journey wasn’t bad. The countryside became slowly drier. Near Santiago roadside stalls were selling bags of oranges, lemons and avocados which looked very colourful. Nearer La Serena the countryside was very dry and the stalls were selling goat cheese.

La Serena is Chile’s second oldest city. It’s quite a small place with lots of old stone churches. They often have towers or spires that don’t match the rest of the building, a consequence of earthquakes I imagine. A mile away is a big sandy bay developing as a sea side resort with high rise buildings but it isn't the season so the beach is empty.

The weather has been cloudy and cool with a cold breeze from the sea. Yesterday I caught a local bus up the Elqui Valley to Pisco Elqui. The valley floor was covered with irrigated vineyards with the vines supported on a lattice of steel wires to keep the grapes about six foot above the ground. The leaves are fresh and green at the moment as they are just starting to grow after Winter. The steep valley sides were bare rock rising to rugged mountains. There was little vegetation and you could see the strata in the rock faces.

At Pisco Elqui the distillery was closed to visitors so I wandered round, had a lunch and caught the bus back. It filled with school children and agricultural labourers going home and I was a bit of a curiosity. Tomorrow I fly to Arica and then head for the altiplano.

Three days in Arica! It is the most Northern town in Chile and is surrounded by the Atacama Desert where it never rains. The driest place on earth.

The flight here went smoothly. After leaving La Serena I had to change in Santiago, which meant backtracking a bit. The Santiago – Arica flight called in at Iquique on the way here which made it quite a long flight. I had a window seat on the right side which meant I had views of the snow-capped Andes all the way here. On the left was the Pacific, and beneath for most of the journey was desert with occasional green valleys in the early stages of the journey. When the plane landed at Iquique I realised my reading glasses were missing. I’d worn them to look at the newspaper earlier in the flight but they had disappeared. I started to panic when they couldn’t be found but then they were recovered from about four rows in front. They had slid off the seat during the landing. It acted as an icebreaker as a group of elderly Chileans bound for Arica on holiday (The city of Permanent Spring) started to joke and chat, which was fun.

The next day in Arica, being a Sunday, everything was closed except the archaeological museum where they had an excellent display including four Chinchero mummies, the oldest ones ever found in the world. The dry conditions have also preserved textiles buried in graves and they are some of the oldest existing textiles in the world – knitting, weaving, braids and knotted items. It’s remarkable how skilful they were.

Today, Monday, turns out to be a Bank Holiday so again nothing is open. Am I ever going to be able to leave here? Having seen most things in town I’ve had time at the beach. It’s warm and sunny in the afternoon although mornings have been cool and overcast.

Arica has a lot of soldiers who stroll round town all the time in desert combat gear. If I find an army surplus store I want a pair of their desert boots. It also has a large harbour. The fishmeal plant has closed, which is a blessing, and there are several large rusting trawlers berthed at the edge of the town. When I went to the harbour there was a flock of pelicans snatching up the waste from the stalls were fish was being cleaned and in the sea were several marine mammals looking very like large sea lions, perhaps walrus. When I walked to the beach there were fish leaping in the sea. They weren't flying fish, more like mackerel, but they jumped clean out of the water. I think something below the waves was having a good feeding session.

Our friend Antonio Macedo phoned and invited us to a special night out in Cruzeiro do Sul in The State of Acre (the back of beyond in Brazil). He wanted to introduce us to 'Daime', a very Amazonian drink that would awaken our minds, or did he mean blow our minds?

We were taken to a small clearing at the edge of Cruzeiro to a big wooden building. Inside was a large wooden table with benches either side on which twenty or so people could sit round. The decorations reminded me of a small Catholic Church, with its figurines of saints and lit candles. The congregation consisted of a few rubber tappers and a complete cross section of the people of the town, in both position and money. The town people and Brazilians generally call this drug “Santo Daime” and mix it into a sort of semi-religious, Catholic ceremony.

The Yawanawa tribe, on the other hand, think religion is nothing to do with Daime, but that it a necessity for the tribe to take it once a month too clarify the mind and get their heads together for the coming weeks. Daime is not banned in Brazil for it is a drug of a very different nature with a very special effect.

A plant that grows in the ground is mixed with a creeper that falls from a tree, thus the symbolism of the drug is that it is the sky mixed with the earth. We filed into this large hut and sat around the central table. The candles were lit around us and we were introduced as visitors who were about to go into the forest to visit the Yawanawa tribe. First Antonio spoke to the people about having great care in demonstrating against the Governor, as there was no point in upsetting him too much or many more would end up in prison, or worse, rather than solve any problems it would just add to them (another story for another time).

The ceremony proper then commenced with a general prayer for God to help them in these perilous times and then we rose and formed a queue as if going to communion. The Daime was poured out of bottles and each of us had a glass given to us and then made our way back to our seats. The drug started to take effect. We had been warned what to expect but we thought it all slightly ridiculous..

There was silence after we sat down and started to wait for Daime to take effect, the sight and smell of the flickering candles, the only light there was to see around this strange church like place. A few people were sick. This seemed an unusual start to what I had been assured was a great experience! I had been slightly unwell during the day and thought I was going to have bad case of the trots and this seemed to be the last thing I needed!

Daime has two effects and one reason it is not on the banned list is that it is remarkably good for any sort of stomach disorder. That was the good news, but the bad news was that while it cured my problem quickly, it also at the same time stopped me from enjoying the Daime in the way that I was expecting; and the real reason that Adam Baines and I were taking Daime this night.

Still, I had more opportunity to observe the others and see their reactions to the drug. Amazingly, it seemed that after being sick outside on the grass, people tended to have another dose of Daime and on being sat down again, this time it took hold. Thoughts seem to whirl around in time and space with all your life with its, good, bad, family, friends, work and pleasures in a maelstrom in which confusion you seem to be about to be engulfed. Over the next hour the confusion lessens and gradually you start to find that everything is falling into place and you become aware of what exactly you should do, to get your life in order.

At any moment during this time, you can open your eyes and feel completely free of the Daime but as soon as you close them you’re back sorting out the files in your head. Finally the drug clears the system after a total of about an hour and a half. The so called congregation sitting quietly outside, enjoying complete clarity of mind and thought, contemplating under a magnificent starry sky, in the tropical warmth, with the singing of the ‘cigarras’ intermingling with the croaking of the frogs. Everyone, whether Indians or locals, thought it extremely important to take Daime so as to get one’s life in order at least once every six weeks. All believed that it made men and women take control of their lives and less likely to have breakdowns or behave in an anti social manner. The next day I was able, with my stomach now fully recovered, to observe without too much of a sickening feeling, the roaches crawling on the ceiling above the frying pan that was cooking my breakfast!