A year later...

Here we are. A year later... I'm still walking the earth.

I'm about to embark on another adventure of grandiose proportions. This one with a bit more of a substantive purpose. Well, that's debatable.

A lot has happened during the last 12mos. Here are some of the highlights, many of them firsts.

• Latin America. That was stunning. First solo traveling experience and first time there. I'm not done with that portion of the world by any means.
• Poor planning trapped me in Peoria. I learned a helluva lot during those 3 months there. Reaffirmation of faith and practicing patience were among the many. First time really being broke with bills.
• Many motorcycle adventures
  • First time crossing state lines.
  • First time riding more than 300mi in a day.
    
  • First time riding in snow, slush, and ice; first time my visor froze over while riding–had to ride with it open; first time I turned around because it was so cold
    
  • First time laying my bike down on a road
  • First time crossing the US border
• Turned 30
• "Laid-off unexpectedly." I equate it to my first time being fired. Very humbling.
  
• Oregon's Willamette Valley Vintage 2008. Wine Harvest. Lots and lots and lots of firsts.
  
• First time dealing with some pretty intense emotions
  
• Saw salmon spawning. A first too. If you ever have the chance to see this, I highly recommend it. It puts a lot of things in perspective.
  
• First time making sweet potato pie
  
• First time I really figured out what I'm passionate about and wanna be doing with myself. Go figure, I'd been doing it all this year. It was so simple I'd been overlooking it completely.
  
• VA Hospital
  
• Envisioning a life plan longer than 12mos. That's scary shit for me.
  
• First time I've felt hopeful about this country in a loooonggg time
  
• Grand Canyon during winter. There were remnants of snow. I can only imagine what it would look like covered in snow. Must be breathtaking.
  
  

And now I'm about to leave the country again. It's pretty strange to me how it's almost exactly a year since the last time I left. Even stranger is the proximity of my departures to SuperBowls associated with Phoenix (last year the SuperBowl was in Glendale; this year the Cardinals were in the SuperBowl).

This time I'm going to New Zealand. I'm following this wine/winemaking path that I've put myself on and seeing where it'll take me. Hmmm...that could be construed as if I'm not a willing participant on this path. I am. Very much so. I'm not entirely certain that I'll wanna do it forever but I can see how it could be possible. It's been fun thus far. Continuing down this path is the only way I can think of to tell.

I leave on Monday for Christchurch on the South Island. About 15h total on a plane. It's so far away, I'll arrive on Wednesday morning. Heading to the Central Otago Wine Region to work in some vineyards and hopefully a winery. I'll be writing here so you all can follow along at home. Look for more slideshows or an actual flickr page this time.

Peace fam

Big Sur. September. On the way to Oregon

Willamette Valley. September

Maysara Vintage 2008. Moving Barrels

Willamette Valley, Oregon. December

Portland and Mt. Hood. December

Winter 2008 snowstorm.

Plastic Fork Garden. McMinnville, OR. January

Glamis Dunes. January. Medici Pinot noir at sunset on top of the trailer

Grand Canyon near Mohave Point. February.

"I'm on no sleep, no sleep!"

"You don't know what it's like in there, all night long things are creeping and cracking. and that red light is burning my brain!" Bonus points if you know where the quote is from.

I'm back in Phoenix now, my home for....well....as far into the future as I've thought ahead. But that's a whole 'nother topic for further down on this blog or another blog by itself. I came back 2days early. I'm tired. My wallet is flatter than I planned. I'm missing things I left with. I keep reaching for Spanish keyboard punctuation that isn't there (the keying is different is all I mean). And yes, I got basically no sleep on my overnight flight from Buenos Aires to Houston [spoiled by Semi-Cama night buses, or even a luxurious Cama bus, I was anticipating something close on the overnight flight, but then was brought quickly back to reality when I sat into my exit-row, bulk-head seat combination (should've been a tall-man's wet dream for flying coach) and I couldn't straighten my legs and the decline of the seat back goes from 90º to 87º. For reference, the Semi-Cama buses seat backs go from 90º to about 40-45º] and none on my flight from Houston to Phoenix. And man, I gotta tell you, what a strange place, for me anyway, Houston was to return to. Immediately those Texan accents and Texas people were everywhere. I'd gone from sing-songy, Italian-influenced Spanish to immersed in Texas in a heartbeat. Amazing. I took 3.5months to get to Buenos Aires from Guatemala City and then I was back in a matter of a half a day. Amazes me everytime I fly.

I gotta comment on my airport experiences for leaving Argentina/Latin America and coming back into the US. First the leaving process at Ezeiza (BA's international airport) was pretty involved. There was an interview before checking in at the check-in counter, check-in, security like we're used too, then a carry-on bag search before you reach the gate. I'm not entirely sure if this was because my flight was going to the US, but that's what my guess is. National flights, and international flights for that matter, within Latin America have pretty slack security measures in comparison. My favorite though, was when I had reached immigration/customs for the US at George Bush International Airport in Houston. My flight landed at 6:30am and I got to the female agent in her booth around 6:50ish. She was my age mas o menos 5 years, which isn't important other than we were likely true peers. She asked me 'how long have you been gone for?'. I answered in 'Buenos Aires specifically?'. She looked up from my passport and replied, 'yes' with a-don't fuck with me asshole. You want this to be easy or want me to ruin your whole US existance?-tone and look. 'About 10days' I said with a grin. 'Where else have you been?' was her next question. 'Guatemala, El Salvador, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama, Peru, Bolivia, Chile, and Argentina.' I answered. 'How long have you been gone?' was next still with a tick of the attitude. 'Three and a half months' I answered. 'So you're not working?' she asked. Ouch! I thought. 'Not now.' I answered amused. 'And what did you do before?' she asked. While answering her question, 'I was a chemist' I instantly thought of John Munger flying back from San Diego to San Jose, and thought 'Oh fuck. Trouble.' But Lil' Miss Early-Morning Attitude just stamped my paperwork and I was on my way through. The differences we have to go through being US citizens is astounding. They're pretty profound in the airport. I suppose I should be really happy that I'm not brown and foreign for that matter. I'll digress here before going any further into a rant.

Instead, let me tell you about Buenos Aires from my perspective. I feel compelled to qualify my statements here by saying that by the time I'd reached Buenos Aires, I'd pretty well surpassed my projected budget and I was tired. Like I said before, I felt like I'd just run a race or finished some huge project. I really hadn't anticipated feeling like this at all, especially in Buenos Aires, one of the party capitals of the worlds. But that was my state of mind on my first day. Regardless, I walked all over a lot of that city in the following days and did as much partying as I felt up to doing.

There's no real comparison that I'd want to make-Buenos Aires is like...Buenos Aires. Yes, it has an incredibly European feel to it, but I haven't seen enough European cities to make a valid comparison. I stayed at a hostel in the San Telmo neighborhood which is known for it antiques market, specifically the one on Sunday which has morphed into a weekly street fair, where the tourists as well as portenos (natives of Buenos Aires) flock to see the street performers including the street tangoers, old-time architecture, and cafes. It's a nice enough neighborhood, tree-lined streets, nice old buildings, some monuments, but it would be better if there was a couple of parks in the hood. There's also the Recoleta, where the upper class live, which I didn't visit really. Palermo, the yuppie hood (as I continue to label) with its trendy restaurants and bars. La Boca, the beginning of Buenos Aires and arguably Argentina, which is now a real artist hood, with its Caminito, which if the buildings are legit, is really, really cool, Club Atlético Boca Juniors stadium painted yellow and blue, and a bad rep for being dangerous for tourists that walk outside the tourist's streets. For the record, I walked through the non-tourist parts of the barrio (on a Sunday afternoon) and never thought twice about it. In fact, the barrio is really quite lovely. A real family feel as well as the feeling of any neighborhood that's in the shadows of a fabled stadium. There are government areas, the financial area, and the theater district. There's apparently a Chinatown and some other immigrant barrios. There's a metro and a legit bus system and taxis that use meters. There's some of the best cheap pizza around (cheap by US standards, ~$0.75/slice). Cafes on every corner that all serve these amazing facturas and medialunas. It's a legit legit legit city. I really really wish I wasn't in the state of mind I was in when I was there. Well, really what I wish I had there was some of my peeps, there with me experiencing it all. Shit, someone else there would really have been great when I went to La Cabrera to eat Argentine steak (truthfully, after I got past the first 5 bites, it tasted like pretty much any other really good steak I've eaten. More marbelization would have made that steak taste so much better. Really, what else makes red meat taste good? The fat, right?). Yeah, I ate the whole big-ass ribeye myself (at midnight no less. Nights get started late, especially weekend nights which is when I was there. People were still showing up at midnight to start eating.) but it would have been really nice to have someone eat it with me and drink a bottle of wine with me instead of me drinking the overly priced Johnnie Walker Negra. But that's for next time I suppose. What I usually think of when I visit a city is could I live here? Paris, Amsterdam, Miraflores Lima, Cusco, Santiago, San Francisco, DC, and Baltimore are all cities I know I could live in right now. I can safely add Buenos Aires to that list. Right now, I'm not a fan of the damn Italian mullets or the scruffy business look, the sing-songy Italian influenced Spanish, the very Western indifference to strangers that you can see in the peoples eyes, or the large amounts of carbohydrates that tempt me from every window. But that all would become part of the background fabric along with the street noise that seemed ceaseless. My favorite line from Argentina that I can remember right now was from John, the Irish guy I met in the Cordoba hostel, who said 'I fall in love every 4-5mins here.' I can understand his sentiments completely. I hope things went well for him with the girl he met in Cordoba.

So what now? Well, first I'm gonna go to sleep. Then tomorrow, I'm gonna upload my pictures and then hopefully work on getting this blog corrected with pictures and posts that have been written but not posted. Later in the week, I'm going back to the east coast for about 3weeks. During that time, hopefully it'll come to me how I'm going to make some money this summer so that I can continue to pay my bills while I go back to L. America. Yup. That's right. I'm goin' back. I'm not done with learning Spanish or checking out Latin America. Plus I think it's wise to get myself pretty fluent before I jump off to my next country.

Well. That's it for now. As you can see I've left it open for a sequel. I'll send out an email when I've perfected this blog the way I'd like it to be. Thanks for reading. Hasta luego peeps. I'm out.

Solo una semaña mas

I just arrived in Buenos Aires on another night bus. Just barely made it on the bus last night. Figures I'd meet people to hang out with at the hostel in Cordobá (Palenque Hostel-good people run the place) on the night I leave. Cordobá was chill. Much much bigger than Mendoza. The bus stations just keep getting bigger. Cordobá's was bigger than Mendoza's and Buenos Aires' is huge.

Cordobá is much more of a city. I couldn't tell this when I got there Sunday morning and it was dead. It remained that way the entire day. I think it was a combination of the end of S.A. Labor Day weekend, a big Argentine fútbol match in Buenos Aires televised nationally, and it being Sunday which are usually much more subdued in most of the places I've been. Made checking things out pretty easy. A city of 1.3million people and there wasn't too much to see in my opinion. Maybe I missed the big attractions. There are some nice plazas and monuments and green spaces. Actually there's a really nice green space around the arroyo they have running through town. I was trying to figure out that day how I could get to Montevideo or Colonia in Uruguay. It's possible but it was almost as expensive as taking a bus from Mendoza. I wasn't sure what to do. After making a plan for leaving the next day and going to Buenos Aires to take the ferries to Uruguay, I decided that with my dwindling cash supply that it would be best to go straight to Rosario for a few days before going to Buenos Aires or go straight to Buenos Aires for my last week. As you can guess, I chose the later. I figure if I want to go to some other places, I can do that from here.

So the last 2days I went to some of the surrounding towns/villages of Cordobá. I understand now that most travelers come to Cordobá as a jumping off point to go to these towns in the Sierras (no not the same Sierras in California. I think they're called Sierras Maestra). On Monday, which was way more bustling in Cordobá than Sunday-a magnitude more I'd say, I went to General Belgrano (I'm missing a word here) up in the Sierras. It's a this strange tourist destination (well it looks that way anyway) that has German store fronts everywhere. They have a big Oktoberfest Celebration in October (which would be strange to have since it's spring). No one was about but there are some nice areas to walk around outside. I did that as well as drank some decent Argentine, German-influenced beers. The scenery going out there was dope but I had the same problem I always do of falling asleep on any mode of moving transportation I get on. I slept a lot that day, but I also walked a lot.

Yesterday, I went to Alta Gracia where there's a fair bit of history unimportant to me but also a Che Guevara museum. Alta Gracia is a really nice town. I suppose it's a suburb of Cordobá and as with typical suburbs there were some massive houses everywhere. They were really nice houses though. Alta Gracia was very quiet too. I think it would be a nice place to raise a family. Probably another reason that Che's parents moved the family there (the other reason was Ernesto's asthma). The museum is actually pretty good. There's a lot of photos from his life and good explanations in English. They have a replica of the Norton bike that he rode with his friend (whose name I can't remember now, the one from Motorcycle Diaries). If you've got 4h to kill in Cordobá, definitely go to Alta Gracia to see the museum. It only cost $1.

From there I went back to Cordobá to wait to take a midnight bus to Buenos Aires. Now I'm here and everyone has already told me that a week isn't enough. Truthfully, I'm a bit ready to come home. I can't tell if it's because I'm actually ready, or if it's because I'm running low on cash, or a combination of the two. Likely the combination. I feel like I've come the end of a race, which I hadn't anticipated feeling. Next time, I suppose I should give myself more freedom to wander instead of moving methodically toward a destination. I'm not sure if that would work for me or not though...I'll try not to think about a week from now and try to concentrate on being here. So I'm off to find a park for a work out then do what I do...walk around and try to find mischief.

City of Indifference, Artist's Port and Mendizzle

I've been in 3 cities since the last time I wrote. Here we go.

I'm writing my impression of Santiago without acknowledging what I now know about the people of the city. Let's see how this goes. First of all, I rolled into Santiago on another night bus arriving around 8:30-9am. I knew where I wanted to go but I wasn't in a rush. What I really wanted was an Egg McMuffin. Yeah, I'm not a big fan of Mickey D's, especially since it's a constant reminder of many things wrong with the US....I don't know if I mentioned this before or not, stop me if I have...when I was in Lima, I was hanging out with 3 guys from Israel and this real cutie from Ciudad de Mejico. Well, first night we were hanging out getting setlahed and one of the guys got some KFC cole slaw out of the fridge for a snack. Really good stuff at the time and in general. I asked the Israelis if they had something like cole slaw in Israel-this is a premier conversation topic in hostels or for mochilereos in general; comparison of countries- they said 'no'. Next I asked if they considered cole slaw, mind you I said cole slaw, an 'American food'. The response given while smacking his lips, chewing a mouthful of slaw was 'Yeah. KFC. McDonald's. Burger King. Yeah. American food'. Good-fuckin'-grief. This is what the world thinks our contribution to international cuisine is? KFC, McDonald's, Burger King. We can't even replace one...or all 3 with In and Out Burger. I'd feel a thousandth of a percent better about In and Out being considered American food.

Anyway, when I got off the bus in Santiago, all I could think about was finding an Egg McMuffin. No luck in the largest bus station I've been in on this trip. Since I had no where to be really, I walked from the bus station to the closest McDonald's. This is a capital of a 2nd world country, of course they have a McDonald's. Why would you even ask?

Instantly, I was struck again by the differences here, especially among L. American capitals. No microbuses. A subway. Actual bus stops. Street signs. Street lights. Crosswalks with the hand and man. More than anything was the commercial area I walked through. Granted, it may have been the location in the city, but it was like an outside mall. I found the McDonald's here and ordered the equivalent of an Egg McMuffin (no muffin, that stupid white bread/bun thing that's everywhere and always at breakfast). I haven't said this yet, but of course this would happen. After not being able to eat anything, all I wanted to do was eat crap. The craving for an Egg McMuffin was incredibly strong. The first thing I ate in Caldera after feeling better was empanadas, fried dough around whatever filling you want and I actually was contemplating a completo.

Having satiated my craving, I moved on looking for the recommended Hostel de Sammy. Got there no problem and got a bed. They have cornflakes, wheat bread, real butter, 3 kinds of jam, OJ, milk, and yogurt for breakfast, which I was allowed to have. I didn't know cornflakes could taste so good! I was so happy to eat pretty healthy things that we take for granted. This was compounded from the last 48-72h where I was pooing my brains out. God, that breakfast was good! After some coolin' out at the hostel, I set out to find the CrossFit affliate in Santiago. A metro ride and 30-45min walk resulted in nothing. No one was home. I think it was Maipu, the neighborhood I was in, but I was beginning to think Santiago had a giant suburb feeling. Turned out to be the neighborhood.

After coming up empty, I ate my first completo on the way back to the metro station. A completo is a hot dog loaded with mayo, salsa, and I think cole slaw. You can get guacamole too, which I did. It's a disgusting beast to look at. I have to admit, the first 2 bites were good, but then after that, I think my brain realized 'this is just a damn hot dog with a bunch of crap on it we normally don't put on it'. After eating it I was pretty disappointed with myself as well as with the hot dog. The guacamole was good... Mine is better.

From there, I went downtown to have a look and ended up in BellaVista which is across their shit river (more on this in a bit). Crossing into BellaVista reminded me of crossing from Boston into Cambridge, lots of students, and things get more artsy and hip. This is when things started getting strange. I'd nod hello or actually say 'Hola' and people would just look at me. This happened a lot. In the states we don't say anything to one another on the streets in cities, but if someone gives you a nod or says hello they're usually acknowledged back, not just looked at like 'what the eff are you doing talking to me?'. Ate a real good cheap meal, thankfully with the help of an English speaking server....I mention he spoke English since Chilean Spanish is awful, in my opinion. Awful. It's fast, it's choppy (they drop off ses and shorten words) and they speak with a more España inflection, which means they speak with a lisp. The more I heard it, the more it would grate my nerves. I can't really say why this was such a big deal...well...actually, I can. I was really starting to feel like I was getting somewhere with the language and then I came to Santiago.
Full, but a little frustrated, I headed home. This bit is funny. I was standing on the metro which had 8 cars on the train. This particular train, and many like it, don't have divisions between the cars. So basically it's a giant tube filled with people. I was in the first car looking backwards. I could see 3 info placards that were all the same but then thought the others behind them were just a reflection or some optical illusion. Standing there, it finally dawned on me as the train was moving fluidly up and down and left and right like a roller coaster would, that I could actually see the end of the train! Eight cars and I could see all the way to the end. This meant 2 things, A) damn, I have good vision and B) everyone here, everyone, is short....Entire field of vision and not another head. Not even close. One outlier amongst an entire population of average. What's the probability? I really thought there'd be taller people here. In fact, I was hoping the women would get taller, especially in a country capital. Joke was on me I guess.

Next day, I reveled in eating the breakfast offered at the hostel again. When I own my own hostel, I'll probably do something like this. Seriously. What's the cost got to be? No preparation either since it was self-serve. Then I had to switch hostels since there wasn't any room at Hostel de Sammy. I didn't book 2 nights initially since I never know what I'm gonna be doing. No biggie, I knew of another good one and had de Sammy peeps call over and make me a reservation. If you're ever in Santiago, I'd recommend Luz Azul Hostel. Real swank decor and you can't complain about 2m beds. Juane, one of the owners, suggested I go to San Cristobal (or Metropolitan Park of Santiago). He gave me a map and told me how to do everything. Real good dood. So I went down there and got my exercise in the for the day walking around. Again, I had similar interactions with the people of Santiago. Say 'Hola' and just blank stares. It was crossing the river toward the park that I decided to call Santiago the City of Indifference. I don't know how they could have such nice parks, clean streets, a great transportation system (considering where I've been), have so many colleges and students and still have that shit-ass dirty river. Really, what would it take to clean it up? Oh yeah, on top of that, the smog doesn't help. I really don't understand how everyone is so indifferent to these things. But let me take off my judgement cap.
Climbing to the top of the park, which has 2 botanical gardens, this gondola thing on one side, these amazing swimming pools, and great views of the city (it'd be of the Andes too except for the damn smog. They have an inversion problem like Salt Lake City, the air can't go anywhere because of the mountains), I met Valentina. Let's just say I'm glad I decided to walk to the top that day.
From the top, I took the acensor down (the same things that are in Pittsburgh) back into BellaVista. Juane suggested I go over to the market to eat some great cheap Chilean food and seafood, but I got there and everyone was closing up. It would have been a great place to eat though. I bought some produce which is actually the same shit produce they send us in California when our produce goes out of season. I was so disappointed with the peaches that the vendor was raving about. Obviously they haven't had one of Victor's peaches from Modesto. I was beat, so I went back to the hostel to figure out some things about Valparaiso, where I was planning on going the next day.

Valparaiso is something to behold. It's sunny and it's maintained it's late 50's feel. Well the buildings make it feel that way anyway. I carried my mule packs for about a mile trying to get to Casa Adventura, which was full. The directions the Info kiosk chic gave me didn't make any sense, but they would the next day when I was in the right place for them to make sense.
Man what a lot of looks I got walking through Valpo! Height and a huge mule pack don't make for blending in. I got a lot of laughs too. In fact, Santiago and Valpo have been where I've been laughed at the most for being a mutant. Whatever. You all wish you had my genes.

Valpo is quite different for Chile let alone any other place I've been. The art is quite good. Street murals are everywhere. The views are real nice and there's definitely a less conservative vibe. The only thing I find strange about the place is that the container port is right on the water and the city climbs up the hills from it. I guess it didn't make sense to move the port when things changed to container shipping. It's a bit ugly and interesting at the same time. It's not too often, well for me anyway, that you can get an up close look at a container port in action. The street vendors were also selling some of the most interesting products I'd seen thus far. I was really quite happy to see some originality instead of vendor after vendor selling the same thing.
That night was full of activity. Lots of people out everywhere. I prefer to just walk around, especially during times like that. Helps me get to know a city pretty well pretty quickly. The next morning I did the same but the feeling was completely different. Since it was their Labor Day, no one was out and everything was closed. No biggie. I saw what I wanted to then went back to Santiago that afternoon. Santiago was strange though that day. Everything, I mean everything was closed. Very very strange feeling. I met up with Valentina again while I waited for my night bus departure to Mendoza. It was here that I learned about all the strange looks. She explained that Chileans are very conservative and very timid. So if anyone looks at them in the face/eyes, says hello, or anything, they start thinking what does this person want from me. She thinks they're really stupid for things like this. Again, I'm glad I decided to walk up that hill that day.

On the bus to Mendoza, I met this girl from Peru. She's a med student studying in Cordoba but was on her way to Mendoza to spend the weekend with her friends. She took me to the student house that morning where I left my stuff to explore the city. Yeah, Mendoza is not what I expected at all. First of all, there was a WalMart sign near the bus station, which now rivals Santiago as the largest bus station I've been in. Second of all, there are high rise buildings. Yeah, maybe only 15-20stories, but still not what I was expecting. Oh yeah, immigration was breeze (no fees, no nothin') except we crossed at 4 in the morning and it was freezing while we waited in line for the other night buses to go before us. We had to get out to get stamped. Makes sense it was cold though since we did cross the Andes and it is fall now. Caroline, one of the students in the house I went to with Victoria, told me all about how things work in Mendoza so I was prepared when I went out exploring.
Mendoza has these hugely wide streets that they've planted trees up and down (I think beech). I don't think there's a street anywhere here that isn't tree-lined. It was so nice to see. Also, the temp. came up about 10 degrees. Modern conveniences are aplenty and there are so many nice parks to hang out in. Mendoza is also in wine country (look at a map. I don't have time to spell out where it is geographically) so there are wine stores everywhere. On top of this all, there are beautiful women all around. Everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. Even the ugly ones were beautiful. I have to admit, I was giddy walking around.
I got my money changed and then the info office guy suggested this buffet where they have the massive grills of meat. I had to go. I gorged myself then set out to find a hostel. Here, it began to sink in that Mendoza is like many other wine country towns, touristy and a bit pricey. It's got a real nice feel to it but I'm ready to bounce. And that's what I'm doing. I'm taking another night bus to Cordoba which is much bigger and supposed to be filled with students. From there I plan to go to Montevideo for a few days and then I'm gonna end in Buenos Aires. Hard to believe I'll be back in the states real soon. I am actually excited for a lot of things that if I had more time I'd talk about now. Until then, the adventure continues.

Down goes Garbage Gut!! Down goes Garbage Gut!!

Did Joe Fraser get up when Ali got him? It's not that feasible for me to look things up at random like I would in the states or I would find out for myself. I got up....well, I'm almost all the way up again. I imagine that Fraser didn't see the punch coming either and when it connected it was instantaneous. Typically, I pride myself on my appetite and ability to eat just about anything. I'd been doing pretty well considering the places I've been and the hygiene I've seen (I'm not judging here, just stating a fact). But I might have taken this 'confidence' a little too far this past week. In case you're not following, I got a case of the liquid poo; at least that's all I think it was. It may have come from my Salar de Uyuni tour or maybe in San Pedro de Atacama. I'm thinking now because of the lack of length and quickness that it came on, that it was from somehow ingesting non-potable water in San Pedro de Atacama. (Oh, I'm supposed to describe where these places are geographically. The Salar is in the southwestish portion of Bolivia, kinda close to the border of Chile, up in the mountains. San Pedro de Atacama is in the northish part of Chile on the western side of the Andes. The Atacama desert is the highest desert in the world and also the driest in the world. One can cross the border of Chile and Bolivia and end up in San Pedro de Atacama as I did. There's the map.) All I know it's been one of the worst 36h I've had in my life. This has been much much worse than the gallon-milk challenge repercussions. Here's the scenario which illustrates my troubles as well as where I've been.

I finally left Uyuni on Tuesday after some more shenanigans provided by another tour company promising big things but not delivering. It was looking promising that Mark and I were going to be able to go on the 3d/2n tour of the area with only 4 people in the vehicle and at a bargain price. We had also gotten Mark all sorted out for getting back to the UK early. Well, Tuesday morning came up and the dood that booked us on our tour was nowhere to be found. He'd told us he'd find two other people to make up our truck and everything was going to be chill. When we went to the office that morning, the kid that opened the office had no idea what was going on. I didn't figure it out until much much later that the kid was just there to open the office and that it was the dood, Brian, that was responsible for getting us on the tour he had promised. Well, Brian had 'an emergency' come up that night and wasn't around in the morning. He eventually called in, but the plan he had for us wasn't going to go through because the kid in the office was resistant saying it was too late for the plan envisioned. After some deliberation, we were able to get our money back, again, and get a tour set up with Ripley Adventures. Me, Mark, and Laura, the other castaway from the 'Brian tour company' got a private vehicle, Mark and I paying much more for leg room.

Our tour was definitely last minute. The Land Cruiser that pulled up had seen better days. The 3 bald tires and the rust spots and parts held together with wire were scary signs. And that was just the outside. But we didn't really have a choice at this point. I didn't really want to spend another day in Uyuni and Mark needed to be off today in order for his travel plans to take shape. More about the setup--these tours typically have a driver/guide and a cook. Our guide/driver and cook was pretty much one in the same. Ok. Fine. Whatever. All part of the experience. We were off for the Salar de Uyuni.

The Salar itself is quite amazing! Mind boggling really how large it all is. It comes together when one gets to Isla del Pescado that this was a lake at one time. The salt hotel was strange and I couldn't ever imagine wanting to stay there or in a salt hotel, for that matter. Our first night was in San Juan, somewhere outside of the Salar, at this suspect residential place. Fortunately, Milton, our driver wasn't responsible for making dinner that night, but looking at the kitchen left hygiene being desired. I ate it anyway since I was hungry. Vegetable soup, baked chicken and rice. It was actually pretty good too. Soup was nice since it gets really cold out there. Really cold.

After an early rise suggested by Milton, which was followed by his getting up 45mins after he said he wanted to leave (he'd been drinking with his friends the night before, he's only 20. I can't blame him too much), we went off on to the second day. The stops we made were much less interesting to me than the Salar de Uyuni but the landscape around it all is something to behold. It's easy to see how Mars might be a viable planet for habitation when one sees the southwest of Bolivia. It really looks like an alien planet. Seriously. I think there might be hope if this exists on our planet. I might have picked up my parasite this day since we ate boiled hamburgers (a first for me. 'Using oil is better?' Milton asked Mark) and some form of pasta. Again, quite hungry I ate 2 burgers and lots of pasta, and, oh yeah, unpeeled tomatoes and peeled cucumbers. I'm not sure which of those 2 vegetables is more dangerous at time of consumption since unpeeled fruits and vegetables are supposed to be hazardous and Milton never washed his hands from...who knows when, and he was tinkering with the truck most of the morning.

That night we stopped in the park that holds Laguna Colorada, which is a red lake depending on how the wind blows. There are really really basic accommodations here and it gets effin cold as shit at night. I might have caught the bug here too. Don't know. Too many things to count. The first hospedaje had flies everywhere (we didn't sleep there thankfully). I've only seen more flies in one place on a pile of poo. We woke up really really early Thursday morning to go see some geysers as they're most active in the wee morning hours. Having seen Ole' Faithful, these are nothing. We ended the tour at Laguna Verde with it's shoreline of asbestos (or so said some Australians). An average pre-dawn temperature of -4.5C didn't help spirits. At the border, I had some difficulties b/c it was my understanding from Ripley Tours that I'd be taken to San Pedro de Atacama without any hassles. Turns out, all that was to be provided was transport to the border and from there I was on my own. Mark and Laura pitched in the B40 that I needed to get to San Pedro since I didn't have any other money.

Crossing into Chile was pretty easy and as soon as we got to the road from the border (an actual road after 5d) it was all downhill. Ears popping and temperatures rising, the passengers , including myself, of the new Mercedes Benz shuttle provided by Colque Tours, were brought into San Pedro de Atacama and through Chilean immigration. How! What a difference in the two countries just at the border crossing.

San Pedro de Atacama reminds me of some hippie town in New Mexico or maybe California or even Arizona. Immediately, it became apparent how much more expensive Chile is compared to any other Latin American country I've been in. San Pedro is no exception either. Extra pricey I'd say for my limited observations of Chile. I got a hostel dorm bed for about $18 but then decided, not knowing my bank account status,not to stay. Bought a night bus ticket for Caldera to go to the coast and the beach at Bahia Inglesa. Thought it best to keep moving closer to Santiago and the border I plan to cross than stick around.

I ate at some more budget places for lunch and dinner, and maybe I picked up the bug at one of these places or I got some water down my throat during my 2, 3min showers (water is very limited in San Pedro. I don't understand how so many people live there considering such. Horses too. Pretty strange.). Anyway, bus time rolls around and I'd bought some 'nutritious' snacks for the road (like bananas, yogurt drink-although it had sucrolose in it instead of sugar-and trail mix). Downed the yogurt in the first 30m and settled in for my ride. Everything was kosher until about midnight when the rumbles began. Thankfully I didn't have a seatmate. These all passed naturally but then the fever started up with the urges to empty my contents as quickly as possible. By the time I reached Copiapo, ~1h from Caldera, at 6:30 in the morning, I was in bad shape. The fever was in full affect and I had no real control. But, I must've empty thorough enough in Copiapo since when I got to Caldera I was able to walk the 5 blocks to the tourist office, translate for a just-learning-Spanish-English couple in the tourist office, and walk around to 3 different hospedajes before we all decided on a good cheap one (Residencial Milaray, next to the pharmacy and the police station). Even there I had something like a 15min conversation with owner Elisabeth and Sasha and Alex, the couple. After that, I passed out for the rest of the day, hoping that I could help things by sleeping the sickness out. I also medicated to break the fever and hopefully help my good bacteria. I didn't want to drop the Cipro bomb killing off everything since I know my boys can handle a lot.

After sleeping until about 6pm, getting up every so often to evacuate my system, I went to the market with Sasha and Alex to load up on liquids. Somehow I was able to get down 2 empanadas for dinner, including a seafood one, and then stayed up chatting with Sasha and Alex about possible itineraries in S. America and comparisons of countries, and a little bit of life mixed in too. That night was bad for the fever pains. Finally, I broke my fever sometime in the early morning. What a great feeling that was. I'd just passed a major hurdle, I knew it. Spent the rest of the day in bed though. Planning my last couple of weeks, and reading up on transport options. Drinking tea with an infusion, provided by Elisabeth. I tell you what. Chilean Spanish is so hard to understand. It's so much faster and messier, but somehow I managed to converse with her. Still abstaining from food, only Powerade and bottled water, I bought my night bus ticket for Santiago.

This morning. I felt hungry again and after a hot shower realized that instantaneous evacuation was just about over. Not leaving until 8pm tonight, I decided to go to Bahia Iglesia today to see the crystal clear blue water and maybe try a LP recommended restaurant. Bahia is nice. I'd imagine it's great during the summer especially if you have kids.

Came back about 4pm and had some more empanadas and am thinking now that maybe I shouldn't have. I think we're back up into the gaseous form however. Or at least I hope so or it's going to be another long bus ride. I'm off to Santiago. Good night and good luck.

The Wild West in 2008

I'm still in Uyuni. I was supposed to go on a tour of the salt flats and some other crazy places today but the plans I'd made with my friend Mark (who I met on the bike rides) fell through this morning. It's for the best though since the decisions I made yesterday went against what my gut was telling me I should do. We've got Mark almost all sorted out for his travel plans back to the UK and I'm going to spend another day here in Uyuni and go on a tour that I feel much better about taking. Let me rephrase that, we're going on a tour tomorrow, hopefully with two bangin' chicas since we've asked for the vehicle to only have 4 tourists instead of the normal 6 for the extra leg room. Mark is 6'6". I really wish more of the world were made for me. I hate having to pay extra because I'm a mutant.

A word about Uyuni...it's what I would imagine the Wild West would look like in the US if the Wild West existed in 2008. Not really a one road town with a brothel/bar and general store but not far from it. It's covered in desert dust and quite desolate when everyone is at a lunch. All the businesses close for lunch. One of the things that's quite different is the temperature. Man is it cold even with the sun out. The agent for tomorrow, who actually has an understanding of tourism, said it gets down to -20C in June and July. Where the hell am I? Mars? Maybe. I'll let you all know when I'm on the other side.

I'm editing this after going to the Train Cemetery. It's typically part of the Salar de Uyuni tour but since Mark and I had nothing really to do today we walked out there to check it out. The walk out to the Cemetery really shows one how much of the Wild West is here in Uyuni. I began to wonder why the hell this town is here at all. It's got to be because it's a jumping off point for tourists to see the Salar. I equate it to something in Siberia. I wish I had more faith in uploading pictures quickly (really I don't have the patience nor do I have my cord and I don't think I could really do it justice with one picture) to show you all how much of a desolate outpost Uyuni is.

Walking out to the Cemetery on the train track there's trash everywhere. It looks like there are rocks littering the landscape but they're really black plastic bags that are stuck on small bushes. So many plastic bottles on both sides of the track. I'm glad we got to see this instead of just driving out to it. Made the experience that much more real to see that the consumption and byproducts of human society.
After 25mins of walking we came to the Cemetery. Coming to the beginning there are piles of iron filings lying about. The 'entrance' starts with shipping cars which are just strewn about. We kept going to see the locomotives. They're about 200m from the 'entrance' of the Cemetery. They're the real old steam locomotives. Walking out to the locomotives, there are more and more and more piles of iron. The cash value of the cemetery in recyclable metal should be something. What's really striking about that place is the eeriness of it all. Just solidifies the feeling of being in a desolate waste land. A bit of a post-apocalyptic feel too. Utter silence drowned in cold sunlight surrounded by decaying beasts of commerce. I suppose the draw of this Cemetery is just the sheer strangeness of it all. I don't have the proper words to describe it all but I hope you get the idea. I think compounding this with the other things we're supposed to see on the tour will have a cumulative affect. I hope to have a good summation once I get to San Pedro.
Peace fam.

Lo siento

For those of you that still read this blog, I'm sorry that I've been really awful at keeping it up to date even though I was trying to write blogs after the fact. I was almost caught up with everything at the beginning of this month, well I'd written the old blogs and just had to type them. I was doing that while I was waiting for John in Lima, Peru. So I will put the old ones up when I get home and have time to type them, but since I have some time now, I'm going to write about my current situation. Well, first a little bit of a recap to give you a bit of an idea of how I got to where I am right now.

The last blog is from Nicaragua. After that weekend I spent a few more days there taking some Spanish classes. My grasp of it all was pretty good and then I left to meet Tiffany in San Jose, Costa Rica and from there most everyone speaks English which made it more difficult to be immersed. We got there the Thursday before Good Friday and knew ahead of time that Semana Santa was going to cause us some problems. Having booked a shuttle in advance, we were able to get to the Caribbean coast on Good Friday. In retrospect, we should've skipped Costa Rica all together. We left the next day for Bocas del Toro. Bocas del Toro was really nice, really really nice. It's a bit touristy but if you get out of Bocas proper it's nice. From there we went to Panama City from which we were both leaving. Saw the city (a US city if there ever was one), saw the canal, I chilled out on an island for the day (a bit of a story), and then I made it to Lima, Peru on my flight. Went to Miraflores, the nicest neighborhood in Lima, where I waited for John to show up. Lima was completely different than the Central American cities I'd been in. Well, let me rephrase that. Miraflores is completely different than any Central American city I'd been in. I think I could live there in Miraflores. John and I banged Lima for a day or so and then flew to Cusco. I'd have to look at a map to tell you where Cusco is in relation to Lima. We flew because the bus is 24h and supposed to be hell. First day, got acclimated to the altitude then we started trying to find out about what we could do there and how to get to Machu Picchu, since the Inca Trail was completely booked until August. When we got there, we got hooked into a South African family that runs 2 hostels, a restaurant, a mountain house, and a tour agency. If you're ever in Cusco, find the South Africans. Machu Picchu is fucking great! Seriously. Be there for sunrise. From there, I went to Lake Titicaca, Bolivia and stayed on Isla del Sol. Go here if you're ever in at Lake Titicaca. From there I went to La Paz. Fuck, was that a wild place visually. Imagine if they built a huge city in the Grand Canyon, and that's La Paz. Well, there's more than that, the altitude for one thing, but I'm summing now.

Ok. So since I left La Paz yesterday let me go into more detail. The bus from Copacabana (on Lake Titicaca) to La Paz was chill. Great scenery. I wasn't going to come to Bolivia, but I'm so glad I did. Isla del Sol was an absolutely amazing place. When my Spanish is better, I'm going to go back with someone that can really tell me about the place. It's the mythical birthplace of the Incas and you'll see why it could be if you go there. The 3h bus ride from Copacabana to La Paz was really 5h and we come through El Alto, which at first I thought was La Paz. Man was I wrong! We came out of El Alto and all of sudden there's La Paz. Massive massive massive. I wish we could've got the bus to stop so I could take a proper picture. But it really is like if we would build a city of 1.5million in the Grand Canyon. I'm having a hard time putting it into words properly. But just imagine brown brick buildings from the top of the canyon all the way to the bottom and then back up the other side. It's just massive. Bolivia reminds me a lot of Guatemala, which would make sense since both countries are the poorest in their respective Latin American locations. Bolivia seems to have a bit more infrastructure in my opinion though.

While I was in La Paz, I rode a bicycle down the World's Most Dangerous Road. This road isn't used anymore as a main route but when it was being used, on average, 350 people would die a year on the road. I went on this tour with Gravity Assisted Bike Tours which I highly recommend. Yeah, it's a bit pricey, but well worth the price. I liked the day so much that I signed up for one of their other tours the yesterday. The Death Road tour goes down the World's Most Dangerous Road. When we were on this road you could really understand how it got it's name. For the majority of it, it's unpaved with 400m drop offs that go straight down. It's easy to see how vehicles would just go over the edge. Compound this with wet weather, landslides, waterfalls onto the road, and crazy Bolivian drivers and it would be hard to imagine what the road would be like. I suppose the name says it all. The guy that owns this company (which was the first company to do this tour) started the tours when there was still trucks and buses using the road daily. In 2004 or 06, they opened a new road, so now there's less traffic. I couldn't imagine trying to ride down that road with more traffic. Just insane I think. So much fun though. It's like skiing and riding a motorcycle and so much fun. Like I said, I liked it so much, I did another tour the next day. It was called the Ghost Ride and goes through some more technical stuff like single track trails which are just what they sound like, a single track wide enough for the bike tire. There will be a really nice video of me falling when I put everything together when I get home. It's called the Ghost ride because it goes by an abandoned church, through an area that was so polluted by smelting that there are no animals or insects living in the area, and then ends at a haunted mansion that was built by a former Bolivian president that he's now supposed to haunt along with his lover. All in all both days were fantastic. The slow Irish chic yesterday put a damper on the speed at which we could fly along but still it was great. Mountain bikes have come a long way. Front and rear full suspension and hydraulic brakes.

The Salar de Uyuni is a major reason that I'm in Bolivia. Since being in S. America, everyone I've met said I have to see the Salar so that's why I'm here. Yesterday, I chilled out in La Paz and took care of some errands needed to be done before I left for Uyuni in the southwest of Bolivia. I'm in Uyuni right now waiting for my friend Mark (who I did both bike trips with) to get here so we can book our Salar de Uyuni trip. The Salar de Uyuni is a giant salt flat. One of the largest in the world, if not the largest. The bus ride here last night was one of the coldest things I've experienced since Salt Lake City last year. I thought me toes were frostbitten it was so cold last night. But that's the desert. Hot during the day, effin cold at night. Just like our southwest I suppose. But I don't know, the seasons here are all wacky to me, being reversed and all. All of you in the states are thawing out and I'm bundling up. I'm stoked though. It's supposed to be a great couple of days coming up. I'll try to blog about it when I get to Chile. Yeah, it's possible to take the tour of the salt flats and other stuff and then end up in Chile. San Pedro de Atacama to be exact. The Atacama is the northern desert of Chile. I haven't decided what I'm going to do once I get there, maybe chill out some more in the desert. I don't think I'll go much further south than Santiago on this trip. Couldn't imagine Patagonia going into fall and winter.

Ok. That's it for now. Like I said, I'll update this later on for Central America and the rest of Lima and I'll try to be better about updating this going forward in my last couple of weeks. Ciao fam.