On My Way Back Home - La Paz - April 12th - 16th

Back on the highway, back on the bus. On my way back home. 10 days to get to Lima with hundreds of kilometers to go, two borders to cross and 2 cities to visit (again). The Aldea Luna experience forced me to sacrifice several other plans and stops before arriving in La Paz, although with such little time I thought it best to go direct.

Thus I got the first bus to the border town, La Quiaca. With a late arrival I was forced to spend another night in Argentina and cross into Bolivia the following day. The Bolivian influence and native resonance shown in the towns and people up here were astounding and awakening. After spending so much time through Chile, Argentina and Uruguay I had forgotten the differences in society... man had I missed it. The next morning I walked to the border and crossed the dried river bed that separated the two countries and entered the Bolivian town of Villazon. Immediately upon entering into Bolivia there was a surge of intrigue. Markets lining both sides of the main street. Small shops, flags and other things hanging from above the streets. The interest of Bolivia that I had not felt in so long had returned, an interest, an excitement that may come from a higher risk but a higher gain.

From Villazon I opted to take the train to Oruro then a bus from Oruro to La Paz rather than a bus directly to La Paz for the sake of comfort consdering the lack there of of pavement in Bolivia. On the train I met an English girl and a Brazilian guy who were both going the same way. By the time we arrived in La Paz Hannah, Vitor and I had agreed to find a hostel together. Considering I had already been in La Paz, I had an idea of where the hostels where and where I wanted to stay. Suprisingly finding a hostel was difficult, the most difficulty I have encountered anywhere! La Paz was full of tourists including all of Israel. The hostels were packed full. Finally we found one for a good price and took a load off.

I had several things on the ¨agenda¨ that I wanted to do in the La Paz area and I spent the first 2 days in La Paz running around to find a way to schedule it in so that I could get to Cuzco with time to do things there. Essentially I didn´t have enough time to do what I wanted comfortably and I was stressing over it. I knew that it didn´t really fit in but I was trying to force it into the schedule just so that I would live up to what I had told myself I would do. The entire trip I had wanted to climb a particular mountain outside of La Paz, a mountain over 6000 meters an altitude goal that I had made for myself, a challenge. I didn´t really have enough time to acclimatize before climbing the mountain, yet there are still agencies that would sell you the ticket just to get you money, your welfare is of no importance of theirs and you climb at your own risk, no refund. I really wanted to make something of the last week before I got on the plane and it was all over. I didn´t want to spend the money, nor did I truly feel like doing it, but I felt like I should because I said that I would. I made a ¨promise¨ to myself.

I quickly realized that this was the wrong outlook. To much focus on the things that I had done and to little focus on the things that I had done, it was tearing me thinking this way, and so unneccisary. Upon seeing this I forgot about the mountain, expectations and promises made. I began putting more focus into what I had done and who I had met as well as organizing myself to go home. Spending time in the city of La Paz, feeling the people and the environment, bringing back memories which took place the first time I had been here, 4 months ago, 4 months ago! Even with the few days spent back here in Bolivia I am glad that I chose to come back to fly out of Lima. A circuit is a great trip because that way you can go back through the countries or areas that you went through at the beginning, relive things that may have been lost in the pile of memories that has built up between now and back then and also to see the country after 5 months of travelling and not only after 1 month of travelling, or 3 days of travelling. This may be the most key, because a lot can change after travelling for 5 months, a lot of priorities change, confidence and comfort are much more secure. For this it was really nice to just come back to Bolivia and now have so much more to compare it to than before. With that ability to compare I think my respect and love for Bolivia has grown a lot over the first time I was here, whence I was comparing it mainly with Peru. I think now my priority to revisit Bolivia over Argentina is much greater and to spend time here and unlocking the mysteriousness of the people and the culture. A mysteriousness that I don´t see nearly as much in the locations visited and people met in countries such as Chile, Argentina and Uruguay. A certain emotion and intrigue, as I said before, about Bolivia is extremely prominent, a land slightly untouched by exploration similar only to Paraguay I would guess. The two only countries in the continent that are land-locked. I think tourists have trouble enjoying time spent in Bolivia unless they speak Spanish. The culture in Bolivia is much more reserved, the people are much quieter and are not nearly as openly interested in foreigners as Argentines are. Likewise much less english is spoken in Bolivia in general, and there is much less touristic incentive to visit the country. The wonders are talking to the people (in spanish) and learning from them and being told tales and information. Once they realize that you can communicate with them and are interested in what they have to say, then they become interested in you.

So I leave La Paz tomorrow to go to Cuzco for a few days to do the same as I have done in La Paz. Relax, eat, shop and think.

Aldea Luna - Jujuy - Mar 27th - April 10th

Arriving in Jujuy the resemblance to Bolivia was astounding. The closer and closer you get to the border the more like Bolivia it seemed. Street markets, darker skin, dirtier streets, uglier buildings. I had really missed this environment, as strange as that may sound. People are seen walking around the streets, smelling weird and with cheeks packed as full as they can possibly get with Coca leaves. The chew on so much coca that smell sweats out of their pores, in a bus full of locals, as they usually are up here, tends to filled with an overwhelming smell of Coca with undertones of Body Odour, lovely. 

Anyway I spent that day walking around the desolate city of San Salvador de Jujuy, as there is nothing to really see or do. Walk around and get stared at. Once again being a giant gringo marks me as a bit different than your standard person. The town was devoid of tourists, hostels were empty and expensive compared to neighbouring Salta. I was had lost hope in  the place and decided to head the next day to Purmamarca a town a short drive north out of the city with the famous Cerro de Siete Colores (hill of seven coloures) their had to be more people there to meet and at least things to do. As I was losing hope in the hostel, feeling like I was the only one in the place I made dinner and a tall kinda clumsy looking guy walks in and buys a beer and offers to share it with me I jump at the offer and share dinner. Next thing I find out this guy is working on a farm just outside of the city. The farm is called Aldea Luna, the guy, named Alex, from France, has only great thngs to say about the place. Throughout my entire trip I was looking for a farm(s) to spend some time and learn. This Aldea Luna farm sounded like just the place I had imagined as the perfect farm to spend some time.  I had only little over 3 weeks to get back to Lima to get my flight but I felt this was a good choice to all other options, settle down some time, meet some people, learn some things, save some money. Alex and the owners were in town on errands and Alex had got a thorn in his leg and had to visit the hospital, lucky for me. Elizabeth, one of the owners suddenly showed up in the hostel where we were eating and drinking, after running it by her it was set. We would leave the next day to the farm. Couldn´t have been more perfect. I was thinking I would stay for 1 week still giving me time to go do some other things and not simply having to rush back to Lima. 

I think it is a standard thing to stay longer than expected at Aldea Luna. I don´t think any of you would have blamed me if you saw or experienced this place. The owners, a married couple, Martín and Elizabeth from Buenos Aires and Montevideo respectively with their son Matías and Martín´s lifelong friend Girardo are all amazingly warm and selfless people. They had come here to the Northwest six years ago looking to buy land and start a farm, before that Martín and Elizabeth had been in Ecaudor running a hostel where Matías had been born. Upon starting the proect Girardo joined in has been with them ever since. 

Alex and I got picked up that afternoon and drove maybe 20 kilometers out of town with takes around 1.5 hours along the unmaintained and windy road. Once off the road we crossed a river in the truck and through grass and mud paths kilometers into the completely green hills and mountains, opening and closing gates to finally arrive to their property. It had been raining heavily earlier that same day thus while trying to climb some sections of the dirt and stone roads to Aldea Luna we got stuck more than a few times. Jump right into getting dirty and physical strain. Completely abandon any hopes of staying clean and dry. After maybe 30 minutes we   got through the hard parts. Myself and my backpack were quite muddy and disorganized. The truck was covered in mud and the road was completely destroyed from spinny tires. We succeeded and carried on to the farm, the last section walking because we could go no further. Upon arriving to this place I immediately knew I had made the the right descision to come, that viewpoint would only be further solidified as the hours and days went by. Four structures made of stone and wood sat on the top of this bald hill. Paths connecting them all. One common building where the kitchen, dining room and games were. Two cabins in the rear with a total of 11 beds I think each with its own bathroom and shower. Then the large building down the hill a bit was for Martin, Elizabeth, Matias and Girardo. The extensive garden lay around that building and descending down the hillside. I had arrived there as a Volunteer thus working 4 hours a day 8am - 12pm and paying 50 pesos a day. That gives me accomodation and 3 fantastic vegetarian meals. By fantastic I mean the food was incredible, Elizabeth was always able to create something scrumptious. So the mornings were spent working, usually working with cement and stones down the hillside working on building Girardo´s house. After 6 years of sleeping in the same room as Matías he finally ¨wants to finish my fucking house che!¨ The work was usually relatively relaxed, as was everything on the farm. The afternoons were spent playing board games, reading  (lots), talking, or occasionally taking one of the extensive trails that led about their property, which was actually within the limits of a Provincial Natural Reserve. The setting was amazing. The sunrises every morning were very nice and the weather was, for the most part, sunny and warm with little rain.

The other people who were there at the time were extremely nice, a few in particular I connected very strongly with and learned a lot from. People more or less came and go. Alex was with his two friends, Antoine and Florrant, There was Jeremy from Belgium, Nicolas from Germany, and Vidar from Norway. These was the lineup when I arrived. We added up to 7 guys. On a farm in the middle of no where. You can imagine the environment. I had joined a group of 5 or 6 ¨pent up¨ men that were clearly sitting on the edge of their seats for women to start calling on the telephone. Thus with each telephone call, (they were rare) everyone would quiet down and listen for any potential tail to be heading out to Aldea. Although 9 times out of 10 it would just be Martín´s mother that would be calling, she usually called 3 times a day at least. Don´t ask why... So while there were no girls, there was lots of jokes, constant laughter a kind of community of people, for when you spend that amount of time with the same people, you grow very close, very quickly, you  actually get to know people, and you learn much more, expecially from the work. The owners were very talkative people, they all could speak English quite well and were seemingly constantly happy. The environment was always sos positive, anger, jealousy were non existant, Laughter was constant, smiling, peacefulness. It was a truly unique place created by the people that inhabit it. So after only a few days I was completely comfortable with everyone there and the location. When the weekend came around the 7 men packed their things and headed to Jujuy to search for the thing that lacked on the farm. For the three French they would not return, they had been there for 2 weeks already. but the rest of us would go back on monday. Thus we spent an entertaining weekend in the city, cold beer (no refrigerator on farm), warm shower (no hot water on farm), barbeque (no meat on farm) and hitting clubs. There wasn´t too much to do in Jujuy even at night, but it was still good times. We headed by to the farm on monday with an english couple who was starting their 2 month stay there. When we arrived it was a different scene at the farm. On top of the english couple there was a German couple, another french girl and two other girls that were planing on leaving the next day, they only stayed for a few days. I myself was planning on  leaving sometime during that week.

As the week went on faster than ever I was coerced into staying ¨just until friday man¨ cause friday would be party, then it turned out that the party was saturday so pushed it back til sunday, but then sunday was hike day, so I pushed it back to Monday, then Elizabeth and Martin told me they were going to Jujuy on tuesday morning so I pushed it back to tuesday... That adds up to 2 weeks. Leaving me 10 days to get back to Lima. No time to really do anything in particular. I still wanted to go to La Paz and Cuzco second times before Lima. 

I don´t regret it though. Friday we made a fire, played games, told stories and played music, Saturday we set up music, Martín has an awesome sound system and Aldea Luna brings in boxes of shitty wine to get good head aches from the next day. The parties their are amazing, blasting house and reggae music surrounded by wilderness, stobe headlights, and wine. Great environment. And the hikes around the area have awesome scenery. By the time I left on tuesday I was very attached to the place and the people. I was not looking forward to going home, I wanted to stay there for the next 4 weeks and leave with some of the other volunteers who were staying longer. Vidar, Jeremy, Nicolas and I. The 4 that came back from Jujuy the weekend before were quite close, especially Vidar. All great guys, good friends, varying in age but all equals. 

Amazing expereince and the descision to do it all was created and decided in a matter of minutes. Extremely satisfied with everything that took place. Very happy that I got at least one farm experience during my 5 months here, that experience will push me to do more of it in the future which is priceless in my eyes. The door of potential has been opened, in more ways than one.

Now with 10 days to get to Lima I´m back on the road, missing Aldea Luna already and the people there. But understanding that in a very short period of time I will be reunited with the connections that I miss at home. 

Canadian Companion - Salta - Mar 20th - 26th

On the bus ride to Salta a guy sitting behind me overheard that I was Canadian. I soon found out that he was from Toronto and would prove to be the strongest and longest lasting relation that I held with anyone from my home country. His name was Chad and he was from Toronto. He couldn´t speak spanish and was taking a break to visit his cousin in Buenos Aires, he was now touring around to see some of Argentina outside of the Capital. It was extremely nice to have some one of similar origin to be around for a change. Simply to talk about things at home and have the other person understand and know what and where you are talking about is something that I had completely fallen out of touch with!

Previously in Iguazú, I met a couple that had been to Salta and had reccomended renting a car as the best means of exploring the surrounding beauty of valleys of colourful rock walls and strange eroded formations. I told the couple that to do that I would have to go around my hostel upon arrival to Salta city and persuade others into joining my quest. I was not expecting to find the partner on the same bus ride, before even arriving in Salta.

Chad and I were on the same route, a route that included an 8 hour waiting time in Tucumán, a city 4 hours south of Salta, at the dead of night before we could continue. Thus after spending around 30 hours in transit together simply to arrive at our destination we understood what the other was all about and had agreed that renting a car would be the most exciting means of passing the time. 

Salta, sitting in the furthest reaches of the north-west of Argentina, along with Jujuy are two provinces that don´t have the nicest cities although contain a certain charm that attracts a large number of tourists. It is extremely hot through peak summer here and for that reason am glad for the time that I have arrived. Less heat, less rain, less tourists. The people who live in these areas have less work and less money. Being back in the mountains and closer to Bolivia there is less development and clearly a stronger line of indigenous native descent. The people are extremely friendly and culture is much more clearly defined. In Salta the Peñas are the most common place. Peñas are restaurants/bars where people gather to eat and drink and play the traditional folklore music of the Gauchos (cowboys). The nights start at around 10 and only get better the later it gets. Over a few hours it becomes a jammin meddly of Guitar, Acordian and Piano with the ever powerful and emotional spanish lyrics to be heard overtop. Chad and I spent the first day exploring the city, booking a car (for the following morning) and for the evening went to one of these Peñas. We ate a feast of meat, veggies, empanadas and local wine with quality music until past midnight. We went to bed exhausted and content, ready for the exploration with the car for the next 3 days.

Surrounding the area are old windy roads through the mountains that lead to great quality vineyards which cover the flat plains between mountains. Likewise there are large valleys of endlessly green mountains of several thousand meters leading into desolate craggy valleys of rock that soar rigidly into the air all over the dry floor. Essentially there is a great amount of natural beauty to see within a few hours of driving. On our itinerary was to go west 200 kilometers day one. South 200 kilometers to Cafayate day two. and back north 200 kilometers to Salta day three. Day one started extremely foggy and with rain. Upon checking the weather forecast it read that the next week would be that way. Slightly dissapointed we departed. The weather proved to stay this way for only part of the way. Climbing up windy, narrow roads, dense fog all around we could only imagine the spectacular view that could have been seen had it been clear. The roads were free of traffic and life, other than the odd other tourist who likewise had chosen this day to begin. As we climbed up out of the valley we also climbed out of the fog, now up at over 2000 meters blue skes could be seen. There was hope! Views proved to spectacular from here on out of colourful red shades of mountains and flat plateaus of green vegetation with animals and birds grazing about the fields. Random ruins of constuctions or the odd tourist market would dot the side of the highway, literally in the middle of no where, selling trinkets and bags of all the spices you could imagine. By the time we got to Cachi, mid day, it was extremely hot, full of sun and blue skies. We met 2 women who went to Cachi by tour and wanted to go from Cachi to Cafayate, we agreed that they could squeeze into our small Renault Clio at their own expense, plus it helped pay for the rental! Bonus. We spent the same afternoon driving around the area of Cachi simply because the town was boring. We took gravel roads through farms and field, weaving our way further into the mountain. The scenery  was spectacular. Colourful mountains with greens valleys at their feet.

Car rental in many ways, I think, is the most experiencial tourism. Choosing where you want to go and when you want to stop. Taking what ever roads you choose, usually being roads that buses and traffic do not traverse too often. This is where you see the true towns and people. Their lifestyle and living conditions. This was the case on day 2. The drive from Cachi to Cafayate, 2 relatively touristic towns although the road connecting them is hardly ever taken. Here is where we would drive by homes and communities of mud brick houses, isolated plain churches on the peaks of hills on the horizon. Guachos riding horses down the side of the road. Farmers leading donkeys, old men on bicycles for lack of a better means of transportation. These towns are only a few hundred kilometers from Salta city yet they feel completely isolated, it could be on the other side of the world to these people. Upon arrival to Cafayate and being thrust back into wealth and tourism we would smitten by where were coming from. The scenery as we neared Cafayate was absolutely stupendous. Driving through the Valley of the Arrows endless arrow head shaped rock formations surge out of the ground  all at 45 degree angles. It felt as if we had landed on a different planet, on Mars or something. It was hard to drive with so much to look at with out careening off the road. We stopped constantly!

Cafayate, a small, cute city surrounded and occupied by vineyards. This valley where this community sites is devoted to making good wines, and they do a damn good job. I got my wine tours in here and much cheaper than in Mendoza. Many being only a few dollars or even free! 40 minutes of history, information and good wines, not bad! They claimed the location is extremely ideal for wine because of the height above sea level. Being between 1000 and 2000 meters above sea level the sun is strong throughout the day and cool at night. This apparently creates a distinct flavour in the grapes which leads to unique wines. So we went to several wine tours through the afternoon. Made dinner in the hostel where the girls were staying and Chad and I headed several Km out of town to our cheap campsite next to the mountains. From there we could climb up the slopes and have a fantastic view of the entire city and surrounding valley.

We awoke in the morning for the third day. Picked up the girls and started our way back to Salta. Back on the paved highway. Within a few Kms we got to the Valley of the Shells. Windy roads through irregularly eroded rocks all shades of rad and brown was definitely the most memorable section of the trip. I pity anyone who took that road at night. It is impossible to explain the physical look of these rocks. We were once again on a different planet although a different one from the previous day. Only photos can give one an idea of the image.

Arriving back in Salta we were all completely exhausted. Chad and I said farewell to the girls and headed to the hostel to rest. After going through a silly communication breakdown with the car rental company we finally returned the car the next day completely dirty thus they would have no idea if there were any scratches or nicks on the car, as I´m sure there were. They hardly even checked the vehicle to make sure it was all good. Anyway Cahd and I killed time through the afternoon until his bus departure back to Buenos Aires. After Chad left and I was alone again walking back to the hostel I randomly befriended some Artesanos (people that work in the street making and selling hand maid jewellry or trinkets. I spent the next few hours with them sitting in the park and learning some of their skills and lifestyle which was neat. One of the guys was Colombian and had been travelling around South America and stays lengths of periods in places when he needs to and sells Artesania bracelets among other things.

The next day I tried hitch hikiing to San Salvador de Jujuy for several hours with no success which was annoying considering it is only a few hours north of Salta. I gave up and took the bus to Jujuy where I had no plan other than to go visit the spectacular valleys and mountains that sit between the city and Bolivia. 

Crashing water - Puerto Iguazú - March 17th - 19th

Arriving in Puerto Iguazú was a blast of hot air in the face as soon as I descended the bus. Now much further north, the coming of fall was not felt as it had during the evenings and nights in Montevideo and Gualeyguaychú. I had arrived one night later but that proved to be unimportant. There was nothing to do in this place but see the falls, unless you wanted to go onto the Brazilian or Paraguayan side. Those cities being Foz do Iguacu, and Ciudad del Este. The late being a hub of smuggled products. Meaning people only go there to buy cheap black market items, usually electronics. I needed a visa to get to both so that was not on the agenda.

This was another tourist town. The other major thing to see in Argentina aside from Glacier Perito Moreno in southern El Calafate. I have now done both! I arrived in the afternoon of the 17th. March 17th being St. Patricks day. Now I have only met a couple Irish on this entire trip, but there just happened to be one at this hostel. When I arrived he was sitting by the pool (oh yeah, there was a pool!) drinking of course, as the irish do best. After going out and exploring the town, which I soon discovered there was nothing to explore, I came back and found he hadn´t moved, but there was a different pair of people around him, the person prior must have gotten bored. Anyway I got changed and hopped in the pool immediately after resurfacing I was offered some beer by the Irishman, Ritchie was his name. The two girls were Danish and getting good fun out of his strong, gibberish of an accent and asking him why he said the work ¨fucking¨so much. He replied with ¨Its because I´m fuckin´ Irish, what you never met an Irishman before¨ They confessed that they had not. I myself confessed that my best friend was Irish and also that his father was born in the motherland and said the national word a fair bit himself. Ritchie replied ¨there ya go¨. Now Ritchie did have a considerably strong Irish accent, and I consider myself pretty good at understanding foreign accents. As could be expected he was already ¨pissed¨ and the beer did not make his accent any easier to understand, rather it made everything slurr into a jumble of indeciferable gibberish. Anyway the four of us kicked it off talking about St. Patrick´s day, its celebration and history. Ritchie explained to be a bad-ass saint that came to ireland and killed all the snakes. So now the celebration is over-intoxicating the body for one night. I admitted that it was the same culture in eastern USA and where I live in Canada. We spent the night hanging out and then went out to a restaurant for more beer and food. 

The next day I got up early and went to the National Park to see the falls. Well if I had missed tourists before by the end of the day I had had my fill once again. The park entrance was filled with buzzing foreigners struggling to get in. Suprizingly lots of Asians respectively with their large cameras. The likes of which I hadn´t seen since Machu Picchu. I casually stode in and found the tour that I paid to get on with. It was named the Great Adventure. A trip on a truck through the ¨jungle¨ for 20 minutes after which you hop on a boat and ride up the Rio Iguazú, see the falls from probably the best view point, then carry on to be immersed several times under some of the many water falls. Again, this was one of the first tours I have paid to do in a while, some are worth the money and some are not but I will admit that this, although only lasted an hour, costed 50 dollars or so, was very exciting. The truck section of the jungle was aimless, but coming of the river was great with the boat often sailing up into the air of rapids. I was at the very front so I had the best ride. The view was incredible with the falls slowly showing themselves as we came up the river very mystical. Then all of a sudden they are just everywhere in front of you, the entire field of your vision. The sounds is extremely loud next to the screams and cheers of the boat passengers. Immense clouds of mist constantly sitting overtop of the water. The endless streams of white falling water varying in width and height. This was an enchanting place. I couldn´t help imagining if you were the first indigenous tribes that came upon the place through the thick jungle greenery. There are several different trails that go around yet 2 major ones, the upper and lower. The former being from above, on top of the falls and the later being below. A boat can be taken (included in entrance fee) across the straights and to an island that sites in the middle of it all. This offered the best views in my opinion.

All in all it was impressive and exciting. Yet by the end of the day the extreme heat and sun had beaten me. The endless noise and crowds of people forcing their way closest to the railing to get the best view grew tiresome and sickening. I left a bit earlier than I was expecting to but I was exhausted! I came back to town and rested that evening and spent the entire next day lazing about (ther was a pool!) waiting for my arranged bus that evening to San Miguel de Tucuman in the Northwest where I would catch another bus 4 hours north of Tucuman to Salta to see the famed colourful mountains of Red, Green, Blue and Purple. Everyone I had met who had been has only spoken of wonder and amazement. I went expecting to encounter the same.

Fate? - Gualeyguaychú - March 15th-17th

Now, my bus from Montevideo had a destination of Fray Bentos, a town on the border of Argentina. Upon arrival I would need find my own way across the border to catch another bus at 12:35 at a highway stop just outside of Gualeyguaychú, that bus would take me for the next 15 hours up to Puerto Iguazú where I was planning on doing the only thing there is to do in Puerto Iguazú, see the Iguazú Waterfalls. One of the natural wonders of the world and coined as the widest falls in the world. I was looking forward to this major touristic hit to pull me out of my slump that had dampened my days in Montevideo.

Yet I explained this strange feeling that occupied my stomach and mind as I was headed for Fray Bentos. I was kinda hoping I could simply walk across the border.. well the bridge (Rio Uruguay separates the two countries, thus a brdige was built to connect the two sides). Although upon arrival I was told that the bridge was not close and that there was no commuting buses going across the border until the next morning, not an option, I had to arrive in under 3 hours. Thus the only option was to take a taxi for the 50 odd kilometers to where I would get the bus. This taxi turned out to cost 1600 Uruguayan pesos, thats around 75 dollar taxi fare! I didn´t have the money so I had to run 15 blocks to find an ATM, get food and rush back, time was ticking down, but I wasn´t panicking yet, I was more pissed off about the cost of the taxi, the inconvenience of it all, and the growing nervousness in my stomach. I had nothing to be nervous about, what was going on here?

Anyways I took the cab, arrived at the Gualeyguaychú bus station where I was supposed to change a piece of paper for my bus ticket at the Andesmar agency there. Upon arrival I am told there is no Andesmar agency in Gualeyguaychú... I´m thinking, ¨you have got to be kidding me¨. I get a second opinion (which is always a good idea) and he tells me that I have to go directly to the stop on the highway, there they will give it to me. A bit of relief but a part of me still feels impending danger. Somewhere in the back of my mind I was thinking ¨its not gonna work out, I´m gonna be sleeping on the damn ground tonight!¨ We arrive at the highway stop. A big store, restaurant, telephones, internet, souvenir shop, this place has EVERYTHING, minus an ATM. I only had equivalent to a few dollars left in my pocket, I literally couldn´t afford to miss this bus. As we pull in a saw the clear ¨Andesmar¨ sign on the front of the building which was a plus. I looked for an agency, nothing, I asked the people working the counter. They said ¨yeah you can get your tickets here, but we can´t print it, and there are no buses coming today, all the buses leaving Buenos Aires were called off. Only for the 16th. There was some strike called, just for that one day! I was in denial for a short period of time, making sure I had heard right, I forced all the information out of the guy that I could. He said I could call such and such a number in the morning and change it. I had no other choice but to wait the 24hours until 12:35 the night of the 17th.

I slept on the ground that night, in my tent, beside the building, farm feilds around, a strong smell of manure filled the air and a pack of sheep were contained behind a fence maybe 10 meters from my tent. I stayed up late and say the blues away, with the nightly janitor awkwardly doing his duties nearby.

I was awaken around 9am by the sound the turning of a large uncovered engine that seemed as if it was right outside my tent and .... getting louder, thus ... closer. I thought am I going to be run over by some bitter famer because I camping near his sheep, they told this place was tranquilo, no pasa nada!. I hurriedly opened the tent and looked outside, there was the farmer 5 meters away on his big green tractor. But he didn´t care at all so I lay back down. Shortly after I tried calling the such and such a number. They told me I needed to contact the people that isued the paper given. Another exterior company. Just adding another peice of paper between me and my ticket, the claimed efficiency that is added clearly isn´t worth it... I tried contacting them too, no luck. Sent them an email, no reply.

If it was not for the generosity and care of the people working at this bus stop. I would not have made it. They took it upon themselves to get me that ticket. I got to several of them by the end of that slow, painful 24 hours. They allowed me to make calls, use the internet both without charge. They were aware that I had no money and had no desire to spend more money on this unexpected stop. They worked relentlessly on the phones and by mid-day got my my ticket. I was overjoyed. Following that they offered to give me some food, for free, cause they knew I had only brought enough to sustain myself for an overnight busride. I was expecting a frugal sandwich or something. They bring out a pitcher of cold water, a bowl of breads, a full plate of rice, potatoes and meat. Again I was overjoyed... I couldn´t thank them enough, and they passed it off as nothing, ¨no no por nada, por nada!¨ I was amazed and extremely grateful. I waited until evening, reading, watching TV, writing, I became the bum of the bus stop it was hilarious. By the time night came around and the employees were off work some would come up and greet me or remark ¨whoa that guys still here!¨ I scampered onto the bus when it came thinking ¨finally¨.

I was on the road north. To the sub-tropical province of Misiones, the tri-border of Argentina, Brazil and Paraguay. The Iguazú Falls. The uneasy feeling in my stomach was non-existent.  :)

Tired... - Montevideo - March 10th - 15th

Like I said,

Upon arrival to Montevideo I was down and out. I was completely physically exhausted. Although through the next few days in Montevideo I would become mentally exhausted from a feeling of fatigue towards travelling altogether. As can be seen a considerable amount of time was spent in Montevideo, but a considerably poor mood and impartial attitude towards doing anything obviously left me doing nothing. But a part of me didn´t really mind. 

So I can´t say I saw a lot of Montevideo, nothing compared to the amount of exploring I did in cities such as Santiago or Buenos Aires. Although from what I did see it seemed to be a quaint little city. The center is considerably developped with a main road that leads straight down to the old city which is quite charming throughout the day. Around the entire old city is a sizeable port which destroys all view of the river and other sections of the city which is dissapointing. As I have described Uruguay to be one of the most tranquilo countries around the capital is similarly describable. Many parks and plazas dot the geography as well as beaches on the coast. In the evenings flocks of people go out to the parks or beaches and sit around and enjoy conversation over many matés while children play. Many fisherman dot La Rambla, a road that hugs the shore of the river and ocean all the way along the coast, and test their chances hoping to get the catch of the day. 

This was a small experience of the street. Unfortunately I was often trapped in Daniel´s apartment because of his random un-organized time scheduling and without a key to let myself out and in as I pleased I was completely dependant upon him which didn´t help my mood. They days were usually uneventful, spent sitting in front of the TV, reading or talking to friends back home, which only made me miss home more, also not helping the mood. Because I was so dependant upon Daniel and his disorganization and constant preoccupation over my ability to be independant my disposition towards him suffered. Around these days I began to seriously get tired of the constant work into starting and maintaining pointless relationships which I knew would not last or I did not care to last. This is the kind of thing that I have been going through and I think everyone goes through while travelling. After 4 months of the same crap in relationships I was just fed up and needed a break from people altogether. Likewise I was getting tired of the Uruguayan prices, being the most expensive country I have visited I can only appreciate the fact that I have saved lots of money on accomodation by camping, and Daniel (something I truly thank him for!) Nevertheless it did feel like kicking around there in Montevideo was spending a considerable amount of money on nothing in particular. 

So I looked forward to when the time would come when I would leave Montevideo and get back on the road more as a site see-er than the relaxed living that had occupied the last month or so through Uruguay and some of Argentina. I really needed that break from tourism and gringo but it has come to an end and I am glad. Time to start spending some money again and meet some other interesting tourists (whom I had hardly encountered in the last month either). I hopped on a bus on the 15th directly out of Montevideo. The bus was headed to Gualeyguaychú, just across the border on the Argentinian side, although for some reason I had an uneasy, inexplicable feeling in my stomach... 

On the Road Again - Uruguayan Coast - Mar 1st - 10th

Near the end of my stay in Melo I was beginning to get restless. With about a month of relaxed, slow-moving, slow-living lifestyle I was being to become a bit bored. I needed a change I needed some independance and personal space. So I took all my stuff and hopped onto the next bus out to the coast looking for my nice period of beach relaxation and sun. With Uruguay said to be the safest country in South America as well as one of the smallest it made me really want to try Hitchhiking, something which had been on my mind more and more of late. Arriving in Rocha I was exhausted from the lack of sleep on the bus overnight so I waited for a short 20 minute bus ride out to the ocean to a point called La Paloma.

The entire coast of Uruguay is packed with seaside resorts every 20 kilometers at least. Seemingly endless beaches run up and down the coast. Uruguay, a small country of 3 million people only, with 50 % of the populace living in the capital, Montevideo, leaves the rest of the country extremely unpopulated. Although through January and February hundreds of thousands of Argentinians and Brazilians flock to their beaches, masses of Uruguayans leave Montevideo and rent houses on the beach and stay there for at least 1 month of their vacations. January, the heigth of summer is a constant beach party of youth while February is a month of Carnaval at each different stop offering more legendary parties and music. All of this is what I missed. I did not arrive to the coast until March. By this time everyone was leaving and going back home, to their towns or to Montevideo to start school or work once again. Depending on ones preferences, I have either missed out on a great deal or was lucky. While there was no great parties I still got to know some cool people very well because of how tranquil and quiet the beach towns were!

Anyway I arrived in La Paloma feeling quite alone. I headed to the nearest campsite which lay only a few hundred meters from the beach and set up my tent. Within about 30 minutes I struck up a conversation with the neighbouring tent. (Which I strategically set up beside) The tent belonged to a Uruguayan couple, who had been camping out there all summer and working. They were attempting to live cheaply, save money and travel thereafter although Even camping can be an expensive lifestyle, with the inflated food prices, along with making 25$ in a days work of 8 to 9 hours! Anyway along with this couple was a German tourist, also camped nearby named Lucas who had spent the last week or so with this couple and was now preparing to move on. I did not like Lucas at first, thinking him rather annoying and out spoken although. The next 2 days were spent here in La Paloma with these 3 people. Most of the weather was aweful, serious pouring rain throughout most of it leaving me wondering how long I would last this lifestyle if the weather persisted. Luckily it did not and last day there the sun came out in full and Lucas and I spent the day surfing. My first try surfing was very interesting but seemingly impossible. Seeing a glance into the surf life was great. Camping out nights. Waking up to the beach and often sun. Surfing, Swimming, Working, Playing music. So basic, so relaxing, no worries. The 2 nights in La Paloma were spent eating considerably good food, playing decent music until early in the morning, drinking wine and beer and smoking. Lucas had a mini travel guitar, I had my guitar and we had 2 harmonicas. We had all the ingredientes for goodness. On the 3rd day Lucas and I went onto Cabo Polonio, a bit earlier than I was expecting although I sacrificed my plans to have a companion. We took a bus to Cabo, which was only 40 kilometers up the highway. I postponed hitchhiking once again to my disappointment. While hitchhiking in Uruguay would be the best, the buses cost lots per kilometer although the distances are never far so the amounts are never a lot.  Willpower is needed to hitchhike over turning down a 5 dollar bus. Although for me it is more about the experience and doing it rather than potential money saved.

Lucas and I arrived in Cabo after a short bus ride. Cabo is another point up the coast. Technically a national park although over time a small community has grown inside the park, probably numbering to be a few hundred permanent residents. There are no roads in the town, only dirt paths, no electricity other than rare solar panels. To get to the town, people pay to get a large 4 wheel drive truck to take them 7 kilometers out to the coast along a bumpy dirt road. Upon arrival I was smitten by the place. The place was absolute paradise. Sitting on a peninsula with spectacular beaches as far as the eye can see going north and south. In land there is only forest and sand dunes. The houses are small and basic. I was told before arriving that there would be not hot water, no place to buy food or anything although it was not this extreme it was still very interesting. With absolutely nothing to do throughout the day tourists are forced to relax about all day take in the sun and ride or attempt to ride the glorious waves that ride in all day from both sides. With nothing to do and trapped in a small hostel I met many cool people. The hostel was small and thus everyone got to know everyone, each night we would cook meals together and go outside and sit around the fire and just hang out. The age varied greatly me being the youngest, the oldest being around 50 but we all got on greatly no one pulling age or experience on anyone. I could have stayed another 4 nights there in Cabo or a week although I went into the place with little money and with no where to get out more had little option but to leave. On the way out Lucas went back south and I went north with a guy I met at the hostel, A guy from Belgium named Bram, a great guy who I knew was gonna be a good friend as soon as we met talking around the fire. Bram had come all the way from Ushuaia to Buenos Aires hitchhiking. Who better to break the curve with than with someone who has been doing it for the last several months.

Anyway before long we got a ride up to the next stop to Punta del Diablo (Devils Point). We got in late in the evening and found that the camping place was far away and being both exhausted we looked for a free place to set the tents for the night behind some trees. Anyway beside a soccer field behind a private house that was currently unoccupied we set the tents. These places on the atlantic coast are practically ghost towns throughout the fall and winter, then for around 3 or 4 months in spring and summer they reopen and house the craziest parties of the area. Punta del diablo is full of nice houses for rent but by the time we were there it was practically deserted, many hostels and stores simply close down and leave for the long off-season. Anyway camped out behind this presently unoccupied cabin in a copse of trees we put the tents. Once done we greedily sat down next to the house, in a spot half seen from the road and began to eat and drink our frugal dinner. Within 10 minutes a police truck rolled up with a large spot-light shining around and next thing we know it was on us! They must have recieved a complaint from a neighbour about figures making noise in the dark and disturbing the dogs and what-not. So we casually stood up and approached them, Bram led the way and started the conversation explaining in feigned broken spanish (Bram speaks perfect spanish after living in Spain for 2 years) about how we were foreigners. ¨Hello, no . spanish .   Belgium . Canada . Arrived Late . Cant find camping . I stood beside dumbfounded not sure what to do, probably ended up coming off as a normal stupid foreigner. To my suprise the cops were fine with it!   ¨Tents over there . Dinner . Ham . Cheese . Bread ¨ The cop then replies in slow comprehensive spanish with a waggling of the finger ¨No Fi - re¨ We replied reassuringly that we were not planning on making a fire and they (3 police officers) contentedly squeezed back into their pick-up with a amiable ¨Chao Amigos¨ to finalize it all. As they pulled away I was not sure how to continue, I was absolutely shocked and disorriented as if a bright light had suddenly flashed on. We went back to the same spot, kept on drinking the beer and finshed the sandwiches laughing about the event. Bram asked why I had been scared, for in truth I was rattled. I explained to him the relation and perspective that is held towards police officers from where I live in Canada making me always a bit worried about police taking advantage of youth to back them into corners. We talked for the next hour about policing and our various experiences and run-ins with the law whatever they may be or wherever they may have taken place. We concluded that the Uruguayan police in general were extremely lax! That traffic police kick back in a chair and sip at their mate on the side of the highway. Not to mention this was off-season in Punta del Diablo, imagine what they deal with throughout the summer. Streets full of drunk or drugged-up youths stummbling all over the streets day and night. They absolute shit they deal with probably made this basic trespassing offence nothing. They didn´t check us for anything, or any of the luggage that we had with us. This was my first and hopefully only police encounter in south america and it was a good one. It could have been much worse had I been in another country down here. Chile police are famed to very strict, while Argentina are said to low class and corrupt. Thats not even to note upon sure corruption in countries such as Brazil or Venezuela where they will stop a bus and simply search you and take what they want with rifles at their hips (A true story I heard from Venezuela). Anyway the next day Bram and I awoke and took to the beach, we spent the day there, relaxing and the afternoon walked a few kilometers up the coast to a National Park right beside the town. Parque Nacional Santa Teresa is large and has a considerable length of beautiful beaches as well as free camping. Upon waking up and taking down the tent he hit the highway again to fail all day at getting a ride, nevertheless there was some good musical moments singing on the desolate highway expanse, another good thing to have the guitar for! We ended up taking a bus for mid-afternoon, Bram went all the way to Montevideo and I went to Punta del Este, all the way back south. The major resort, the Miami of Uruguay. The point where on one side of the peninsula is Rio de la Plata beach and the other side is the ocean waves. It was nice to see the change in context although I would not spend a summer there let alone a week. It is too crowded and way to expensive. After 2 nights more or less alone staying in a hostel (because there is no camping) I took to the highway and after a few hours of walking and resting I got a ride with some Argentines. I stopped halfway to my destination to see go to an art museum and chill on the beach then got back on the highway again. This time a couple who were staying in the same hostel as me in Punta del Este stopped and took me to Piriapolis where I stayed in good campsite for one night, more relaxing and beaches the next day and for the afternoon a fisherman picked me up and took me to Atlantida. All of these stops are around 30 to 40 kilometers away from each other.

Atlantida is a small cute community where flocks of people from Montevideo go for the weekend because of how close and accessible it is. I did not want to pay the night or pay a bus to Montevideo so I waited til sun went down and walked along the beach until I found a good spot to put the tent. Along a small trail between the beach and the road was a little protective grove, perfect for the tent and not easily seen from the beach. The full moon was out and I walked down the the beach with the guitar and ran into some fisherman set up on the beach. We chatted for some time before I took to sleep. That morning I awoke early and hit the road again and quickly got a ride to Montevideo, where I  took a bus to Daniel´s apartment. Luckily he was there and awake and I was in and passed out on the couch without any problems. After 10 days of being on the road, changing places every day or 2 and walking kilometers carrying the heavy bag I was beat!

The coastal experience was very relaxing and enjoyable. I finally got my relaxing period on the beach that everyone including myself would be disappointed if I had not done. Got a bit of a tan which also is necissary in South American summer. I finally got into hitchhiking which was awesome, I may not have saved a huge amount of money although it was still fun! I spent several nights on end alone and was not abated by the lonliness which I had not expected would have been a problem for me throughout this trip but, to my surprise had a huge effect upon me throughout the beginning. I was becoming more independently capable. Being able to sleep, eat and get from point A to B without having to sleep in hostels eat in restaurants and take buses everywhere. This is what I have been working towards for the last 4 months straight with this outcome in mind. I was very satisfied with where I was at coming into Montevideo.

It was very cool seeing such a large amount of the coast and how much it changes from part to part. It seemed the Atlantic coast was much more frantic and full of youth similar to the crashing waves that hits all along the beaches of the east. While in the south, on the River the water is much calmer, and it is more communities or family abodes or vacation dwellings. At any rate I am surprised there are not more Americans and Canadians that travel down here for the summer the entire coast is beautiful beach all bays and peninsulas. Great spots for surfing and mild swimming. Warm ocean water. Extremely nice people and safe land. I believe people avoid South America in general because there is a general idea rather an ignorance to what South America really is. An idea is formulated, somehow, that South America is extremely dangerous everywhere, It is all underdevelopped and indigenous poverty, this simply is not the truth. Obviously if you have read any of the previous blogs regarding Chile or Argentina one would understand this to be the truth. That being said I have little doubt in saying these 3 countries of topic are the most developped and safest of the continent. I believe Brazil has its development (it is currently the highest currency in the continent) although the simple fact that crime is considerably higher there wards many people off, while that it is true that crime is higher in Brazil it is an enormous country and as always it depends on where you go and what you do. Everyone I have met has told me splendid things of Brazil, tales of falling in love with the land and the cities! At any rate I am presently falling in love with Uruguay in a way. It is a very nice country and very relaxed. There is large amount of field and farm land in land and the people only become nicer and nicer the further in you go! It is a flat country full of green palm trees and fields, rolling hills and farms. It is extremely similar to Argentina and thus famed arrogance of the Argentines naturally talk about Uruguay simply as apart of Argentina, nothing more. They do they same things, similar culture, practically the same accent yet I have noticed a difference. There is a different feel about this land and people than in Argentina, at least parts of Argentina for it is also an extremely large country.

Anyways I am growing tired here at my perch writing this endless blog... Long live Uruguay, Long live Forlan