{"id":16710,"date":"2014-03-11T09:01:43","date_gmt":"2014-03-11T16:01:43","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.backwoodshome.com\/blogs\/ClaireWolfe\/?p=16710"},"modified":"2014-03-11T09:01:43","modified_gmt":"2014-03-11T16:01:43","slug":"three-hour-tour","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/2014\/03\/11\/three-hour-tour\/","title":{"rendered":"Three-hour tour"},"content":{"rendered":"

Well, my three-hour tour<\/a> turned out less eventful than Gilligan’s.<\/p>\n

Some pix for ya.<\/p>\n

Eat your heart out, girls<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"David_TourGuide_SMALL_031014\"<\/a><\/p>\n

That’s David (Da-VEED), my tour guide. I had him all to myself, since I was the only passenger on the boat. Sort of a waste for the tour company, but good for me.<\/p>\n

He was a really good kid, and ambitious enough to end up owning the tour company (if not a whole string of them) someday. He was the middle child of a farm family who learned English by taking lessons from a neighbor (over the objections of his father and older siblings) and is now in his third year of college, also over their objections, paying as he goes for his degree.<\/p>\n

Eat your heart out, all my snowbound, windblown friends<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"Lagoon_SMALL_031014\"<\/a><\/p>\n

This is where the tour stopped for lunch<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"PirateRestaurant-02_SMALL_031014\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Not a very good picture, but you get the idea. I ordered fish fingers, which turned out to involve actual fish (crunchy skin-on), not the processed things I’d usually associate with that name. They came with fried plantains, pico de gallo, and another sauce I couldn’t identify. Tasty! And you sure couldn’t beat the view.<\/p>\n

Unfortunately some people still have to work<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"Fishermen_SMALL_031014\"<\/a><\/p>\n

These guys were fishing. The one in the foreground was in charge of a net (which he had completely over his head, though it doesn’t show in the photo). The man in the rearground would furiously beat the water with a stick, then help the other man corral the discombobulated pescados<\/i> into the net.<\/p>\n

—–<\/p>\n

David took the opportunity to give me a Spanish lesson.<\/p>\n

I can now say:<\/p>\n

Tengo dos perros en mi casa. Uno es macho. Otra es hembra. El macho se llama Robbie y tiene trece años. La hembra se llama Ava y tiene ocho años.<\/i><\/p>\n

—–<\/p>\n

Thanks to helpful Jorge in comments, I can now also ask for restaurant food to go (para llevar<\/i>) without implying that major organs might be torn out of anyone’s body in the process.<\/p>\n

—–<\/p>\n

David and I also had an interesting conversation about translating idiomatic expressions. I used “break a leg” as an example. He got the idea about using a special “bad luck” phrase as a good luck wish, but was bemused that it was mostly only for actors. I told him that the equivalent, in Italian, was in bocca al lupo<\/i> (“in the mouth of the wolf”) — totally different expression but the exact same idea. He couldn’t think of any Spanish equivalent, though I imagine there must be one, superstition about luck being pretty universally human.<\/p>\n

I tried getting a Spanish equivalent for “on the fly.” That concept he couldn’t get at all. He first suggested immediato<\/i>, then suggested something to do with making mistakes from hasty judgment. I said, “Close but no banana.” Which didn’t help matters at all.<\/p>\n

So much gets lost in translation.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Well, my three-hour tour turned out less eventful than Gilligan’s. Some pix for ya. Eat your heart out, girls That’s David (Da-VEED), my tour guide. I had him all to myself, since I was the only passenger on the boat. Sort of a waste for the tour company, but good for me. He was a really good kid, and ambitious enough to end up owning the tour company (if not a whole string of them) someday. He was the middle child of a farm family who learned English by taking lessons from a neighbor (over the objections of his father…<\/p>\n

Continue readingThree-hour tour<\/span><\/a><\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[33],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-16710","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-travels","ratio-natural","entry"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16710","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=16710"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16710\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=16710"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=16710"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=16710"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}