JC Decaux and ¡Man Abroad! join forces

¡Man Abroad! is really taking off in Santiago, getting some great coverage across the whole city, especially on the Metro. At ¡Man Abroad! we believe any publicity is good publicity, especially when done in excess. That's why, besides the JC Decaux deal, we also have door knocking ¡Man Abroad-0-grams! (hot chicks, always hot chicks), sponsor street-dog fighting and anti-street-dog fighting rehabilitation clinics, own the rights to all smog-writing planes in Santiago, shoot flyers from illegal homemade PVC bazookas into EVERY crowded environment, have people walking the city streets dressed as farm animal zombies screaming our web address in zombie (both in Spanish zombie and English zombie), have planted a nerd-mole-hacker in Microsoft so that the new Windows operating system will default every browser to our website every time, are releasing an extensive range of ¡Man Abroad! cereals for children (think Fruit Loops but gun shaped and savoury flavoured) each box contains 1/5th of a wig — get all 5 types to complete the wig, and a whole lot fucking more!

Oh, and in case you are a total idiot, if you click on these images they appear bigger in another window so you can see 'em better and really appreciate them.

Mi oficina en Santiago

The mighty office in all its glory. This is where the magic happens: where I try and fail to learn Spanish. Basically a self contained eco system, it has everything necessary for life: water, internet connection, cookies, beer, Berocca, vitamin C and bandaids. The only thing missing is a urinal (that works).


Yes, that's a single bed. I'm not a tall guy by any means but even my feet hang off the edge. The bastard is on wheels to so I wake up on the other side of the room most nights scared and disorientated. I wouldn't have believed it possible but I have developed a case of Stockholm Syndrome for my abysmal pillow. More or less like a sack of wet porridge, I shuddered when I first saw it. BUT it is 100% malleable, smells as bit but can deal with any sleeping position necessary. If you felt like sleeping on a car shaped pillow — just hit and poke it for a minute and BAM! it stays in shape. Last night I sleep on a rocking horse, tonight who knows! I am considering flogging it when I leave, it's so empty I could roll it up into my back pocket.

That chair is a piles inducing nightmare — angled downwards at 15 degrees and as hard as bricks. I wouldn't even break it over Hulk Hogan's back for fear of doing some real damage to the man. After only 20 minutes sitting at it I feel like I have been kicked in the arse by an enraged donkey. At a leisurely three paces behind me is the en suite; a basin, shower and toilet all crammed awkwardly in a small porcelain bowl placed unnaturally high on the wall (but I still can't work out where I'm supposed to put the dunny roll?). And don't get me started on that heater, talk about tits on a bull. But it's getting warmer now so I can live without its uselessness. The balcony is nice but if I want to sit out there I have to sit cross legged because the only other option is that black arse-destroying monstrosity. There a family of pigeons living in the tree outside but I'll leave that for a another titillating ¡Man Abroad! entry.

By the beard of Zeus!

If you are really my friends you will never let this happen again. A beard not fit for a deserted tropical island that would make baby Jesus cry all night long. Straight out of the trash can, I'm surprised I even got served street vendor empanadas (sweet, sweet empanadas EVEN the microwaved ones). I wouldn't wish it upon my worst enemy (which at the moment is the dude that sells me discount beers through a cage around the corner). I got attacked by one of the numerous Santiago street dogs the other week and I think I know why now — pure terror. The goatee is a further step in the *wrong direction*, not worth the 5 minutes I kept it. However, I think you'll agree the moustache is looking deliciously tough (if somewhat like a cat turd rolled in hair). I think I'll revert back to my standard passive romper stomper look for the moment (sans suspenders), I need to look tough as so that I don't get rolled in the street.

Another three months and this is how dirty it would have looked (but very healthy, no?). Imagine the empanadas that would have got lost in that sucker! Rendered by one of the in-house artists at ¡Man Abroad!

Snow I have a new talent

Like a duck to water, like a dog with a boner, I was all over that mountain (not sure what it was called but it was some bloke's called Andy's) like white on rice. The first hour was hideous, a lesson with Sebastion, a little pocket rocket from Chile. I couldn't stand up, nor could I move, I considered switching to skiing at a hideous cost or faking a hamstring injury and retiring to the clubhouse. However, being the tough son of a bitch I am, I stuck it out and could soon snake down the baby slope at walking pace keeping a VERY close eye on the many other un-gifted people around me. The next challenge was those farking pulley lifts up the mountain which hook up under your arse and drag you up the mountain = arse over tit everytime and started carrying my board up the mountain on foot like a loser. Eventually though I started nailing 60-70% of the pulley lift attempts. Then due to mothers and children pushing in incessantly on the baby slopes, I made the decision the take it to the next level up; a steep bastard with a outright evil pulley lift. By the end of the day I was riding the big pulley lift all the way to the top (except the last one of the day where I was dragged up cos I stacked it and refused to let go of the pulley), and racing down the mountain sideways, backwards, frontwards, upwards and downways without trouble.





Arturo the guide man dude and Fraser the English man fella.

Fraser = pasty & vulnerabe + sunblock & hat - broken sunglasses + ham and cheese sandwiches @ lunch = good day's snowboarding.





Dan the Dutchman and Ben the Man-chester-man. Dan is, at this stage, totally unaware that he is currently working on (through his lack of respect for the harsh Chilean sun) the greatest Reverse Lone Ranger face I have ever seen.

Dan and me (wearing my Scandinavian Fisherman outfit). Call me ignorant, but I was very unaware of how farking hot it can get on a snow capped mountain. I came this close to taking it off and taking to the slopes topless.


These are those mental pulley lift things from the dark ages. Why is it we can put a man on the moon but we have to drag an Australian up a slope by a garden hose attached to an arse-diving dinner plate.


What a view! And look there are some mountains as well.



A re-enactment of me climbing (sans gloves for extra toughness) solo style up an almost vertical, icy slope to avoid the embarrassment of eating snow as I am thrown sideways from the pulley lift while small, fully decked out children pass me unaided.

There goes one of the little turds now. Covered head to toe in top-of-the-line gear and hideously capable. I swear women bring them only so they can push in at the pulley lifts.

My new friend, my new enemy

That's not a child's shoe people—that's the shoe of an average (and recently turned 28 year old) man, I shit you not! The biggest long neck I have ever seen, this sucker holds 1 litre of tasty, tasty cerveza—you almost need to hold it with two hands to drink (always straight from the bottle because that's the way I was brought up). Cristal is one of the better beers over here followed closely by Escudo. There is another beer here called Kuntsmann, yeah that's right, Kuntsmann and it tastes like it sounds: wrong. Now here's the best bit, this big fella costs $2 Australian, give or take! And, if I return this bottle to the geezer around the corner, who sold it to me through a grill in his shop window, I get another one for just under $1.70! (bear in mind that took a hideously long time for me to understand what he was saying—he even resorted to pictures). If I wanted, I could put myself in a coma for less than the price of a pint of draught in Australia—I can't afford not to drink it.