Showing posts with label falklands. Show all posts
Showing posts with label falklands. Show all posts

Friday, August 21, 2020

Stranded in the Falklands

I was a globally-curious political junkie of a college student when Margaret Thatcher went to war against Argentina.

As a colonizer-hating pinkie, I was against Thatcher and the UK, even if I had no idea about the issues.  Much later in my life, when I watched Groucho Marx, I wished I had known about "I'm against it!" as my guiding principle ;)

When I did find out from the atlas where the Falklands are, it shocked me that the UK would go to war so far away from home over some small islands.

The Falklands are practically a launching pad to the Antarctic and with barely any population, yet Thatcher was keen on fighting for it!

A year later, Reagan sent the US forces to invade Grenada.  Some simpaticos they were!

A few weeks ago, Larissa MacFarquhar wrote about how much the Falklands have transformed over the past couple of decades and are now at global crossroads.  A recent development there was about oil:
Since the nineteen-nineties, oil companies had been exploring the waters around the islands, and by the early twenty-tens it had become clear that substantial oil deposits existed in the basins offshore.
Money started coming in.

Well, all that was in an era before COVID-19.  Once the coronavirus took charge of the world, everything changed.
In late March, as the plague drew closer, and the planes stopped coming, the islanders, like people everywhere, sat at home and went online, trying to figure out what was going to happen. Oil prices had plunged since the pandemic began, and covid had been spreading among workers living in close quarters on rigs, so it seemed unlikely that drilling would start anytime soon. With restaurants closing in Europe, demand for fish was a fraction of what it had been, and that was in addition to the possibility that Brexit would result in European tariffs approaching twenty per cent. It was not yet clear what all this meant for the fisheries, but their revenues made up nearly two-thirds of the islands’ income, so any reduction would have an enormous impact. Tourism was the second-largest business, and that consisted almost entirely of cruise-ship passengers. Who was going to sign up for a cruise now? And if the tourists stopped coming restaurants and hotels would close. You weren’t allowed to stay in the Falklands without a job, so the people who worked there and didn’t yet have permanent residency might have to go home.
What would happen if planes stopped bringing in regular supplies? Would the islands become remote once more, hoping the deliveries came in, relying on homegrown food if they didn’t? In the old days, fruit was shipped in once a month—it was hard to grow anything on the islands other than berries—and people called mutton “365” because they ate it every day, sometimes for all three meals. Could that happen again? Would younger people who’d grown up in Stanley learn to slaughter sheep?
And what happens to the offshore oil exploration?  A gambler's loss:; "tapping some fields no longer makes economic sense"
[A] decade after the discovery of as much as 1.7 billion barrels of crude in surrounding waters, the British overseas territory known for sheep rearing and tension with Argentina looks as remote as ever. Rather than the next frontier, the project to extract energy risks being added to a list of what companies call “stranded assets” that could cost them huge sums to mothball.
The coronavirus has, in some ways, accelerated the shift away from fossil fuels, even as the sociopath in the White House continues to operate in his own world of alternative facts.  A tRumpian world in which coal is king, and oil is black gold.

I wonder if the stable genius knows where the Falklands are!

Tuesday, May 05, 2009

Argentina .... I will be there soon .... some day

Even as a kid barely able to hold a newspaper I got to know a little bit about Argentina. It was always in the news--bad economic conditions, dictatorial governments, and later on the Falklands War. And, of course, the news always punctuated with the word "Peronistas". But, there was something about Argentina that captured my imagination--truly my imagination because it was way before the Web, and back in a resource-constrained small town, it was more imagination with the little bit of news than anything else ....
And then there was the sports aspect of Argentina that always made sure it was in the news. In tennis, it was Guillermo Vilas who made sure that I knew where Argentina was. No, I don't play tennis :-) I am just an information junkie! And, of course, football (soccer) and Maradona.

The net result: Argentina has always been on my list of places to go to. Andrew Lloyd Webber's Evita then was the icing on the cake.

As if I did not have enough reasons, the coffee maniac in me then read the following and is now ready to pack my bags :-) (this is an excerpt; read the complete post here.)

The One-Hour Cup of Coffee

henry apr27 coffee.jpg



Buenos Aires is a great coffee city. No, you won't find myriad varieties of beans here, or some great technological advance in the brewing process, but this is a city that knows the art of drinking coffee well, if not the perfect technique to brew it.

In Buenos Aires, you don't get a 20-ounce latte in a to-go cup, in fact there is nearly no coffee to-go in the city, except for a chain of coffee shops called Havanna that offer the amenity. But very few take them up on it (and those that do tend to get strange looks from passers-by).

Instead, coffee here is enjoyed slowly, at a sidewalk cafe, sitting still, in an actual mug, with no plastic lid getting in the way. Throughout the day, locals take their time with it, chatting up friends, admiring the street scenes, or reading the newspaper. Coffee here is a more measured decision, because instead of five minutes you are more likely to spend an hour with your cup.

The coffee is strong, and best enjoyed in smaller quantities--the cortado is my favorite, an espresso with just a spoonful of steamed milk on top (identical to the drink of the same name in Spain). Others prefer the inverse, the lagrima, which is a cup of steamed milk with just a spoonful of espresso (lagrima is Spanish for "teardrop"). There's also cafe con leche, cappuchino, and a wonderful take on hot chocolate called submarino (which I'm saving for a later post).
I want to go there. Please? :-)