Post 116: Last Stop - Georgetown, Guyana

Fellow adventurers,

Our last day in Georgetown was rather brief yet fulfilling. The Caribbean breeze runs throughout the city and reggae music pumps through speakers on all corners, reminding us of our days in Jamaica. The population of the old Dutch and British colony of Guyana is 770,000; less than that of my home city, Philadelphia. It’s primarily devised of people of African and East Indian heritages; the minority being those of mixed races. I wasn’t sure what to expect to see before arriving, and had heard from fellow travelers of all the trash in the streets.  What I saw were19th-century wooden houses supported on stilts, and charming green boulevards laid out along the lines of the old Dutch canals that give it a unique character. Where we stayed was surrounded by pretty colonial houses. While some of those canals did have lots of garbage, I was glad to be in the country where it’s said only the experienced, brave, independent travelers venture into, a country that is often mistaken to be in Africa.

The British built what used to be the world’s tallest wooden structure, the St. George Cathedral constructed of local wood which is dark and termite resistant. It was completed in the Gothic Style at 143 feet tall in 1899. We admired the clustered columns, flying buttresses and tinted, Gothic windows from the inside. The chandelier that was given by Queen Victoria still hangs.  Old emblems line the walls in memory of those passed, each one telling the brief tale of the role in the community the person played, as well as how they died. Some were stories of men going down with their ship while during battles in the Caribbean, brothers whom fought with Britain during the first World War, or sudden illnesses caught while at sea.  It was an unusual piece of personal history.

Gavin and I had read about a decent burger joint where they’re served topped with pineapple, so we enjoyed that for lunch in Guyana’s first and only mall. We then visited an old, bustling market, constructed of iron and steel by a company out of Delaware, USA in 1881. Inside a variety of goods were being sold, as well as the typical meat, fish and produce. I love to visit markets while traveling, as I’m always curious about the local foods and exotic fruit.  We’d stop when we saw something unfamiliar, such as cassava juice, which is typically used for coloring foods or a base for hotpot soup. We tried the unusual Awara fruit, which after the red or orange skin is peeled the nutty flavored fruit is eaten around the nut; and mamey fruit, large and brown with easy to peel skin, and a sweet orange flesh inside to eat. The vendors were kind enough to tell us what they were, and how to eat them. We stopped at a bar to drink some local brews and try the reputable rum. The people in Guyana were all very friendly and sociable to us, and we never felt in danger. After filling our bellies with delicious chinese food, we were content on our positive yet short experience in Guyana.

We left early Saturday morning, had a stopover in Trinidad before heading off the Fort Lauderdale where Gavin’s mother awaited our return at the airport.  The flight was smooth, but security in Guyana and Trinidad were tighter than expected.  However, we had a smooth, timely arrival and took comfort in seeing a familiar face to welcome us.These next few days I hope to post videos and audio recordings of our past travels.  I also plan to update on what I’ve taken from this trip, so please stay tuned.

June y Gavin

Post 115: The road to Georgetown, Guyana (Boa Vista/Bonfim/Lethem/The Interior)

Fellow adventurers,

The last 3 days have been spent traveling almost one thousand miles, from the shores of the Amazon in Manaus to the Guyana's capital city, Georgetown; our last stop on the continent. It was not an easy ride, but we have finally made it.

Our journey here began where our last post left off. After departing the boat in Manaus, we cabbed it across the Amazonian metropolis to the local bus terminal and bought tickets for the next bus to Boa Vista in the northernmost state of Brazil, Roraima. The only highway in this region, number 174, connects Manaus with the southernmost border of Venezuela. The ride itself was through lush tropical land, spotted with many cow pastures and an occasional small town. The bus stopped frequently, giving us ample time to stretch our legs and grab a snack or two. Oddly enough, upon our arrival in Boa Vista, we were a short 100 miles from where we had began our journey some four months ago in Canaima National Park. We arrived late, and the bus station was closed, so we wandered down the street until we found a suitable hotel and called it a night.

The next morning, I awoke early and purchased our tickets to the border town of Bonfim. The ride was easy enough, through grassy savanna land. Again the road was spotted with settlements and cow pastures, there doesn't seem to be much else out here. At the border, we were met by cab drivers offering rides to Georgetown, and obliged one who gave us a free ride over the border to the town of Lethem. After the Brazilian border, we crammed into a cab with a few others and made our way to the Guyanese side. As we crossed into Guyanese territory, the road split in two lanes and looped one over the other to make the correction for the roads of this tiny former British colony. We were amused and reminded of our time in Jamaica, navigating its similarly backwards roads and driving alignment.

Immigration on the other side was simple, and finally in English! Though the tongue they speak here is very hard to understand as it is heavily accented in the Caribbean styling of the West Indies. In Lethem, we relaxed at a restaurant slash bar slash quasi bus stop until the minibus was fully packed, supplied and ready to go. Our companion travelers were all Brasilieros, making there way to Georgetown for some reason or another, one even carried along a small puppy. We did not feel completely separated from our time in Brazil, everyone on the border seemingly speaks Portuguese and there are many signs are in both languages far into the interior of Guyana.

The ride for me was very uncomfortable to say the least. I had the pleasure of being crammed in the far back of the bus with three other skinny men who all fit into a seat meant for three average sized people. June was lucky to have a full single seat to herself, a pleasure no one else aboard had. During the first evening, I did my best to ignore this and watch the countryside pass by. Until the sun set, we rode through more savanna land filled with giant termite piles, some as tall as 7 feet, which dotted the landscape. The dirt road was rough and complete with many small primitive bridges crossing over little streams and embankments. After the sun set, we could see tons of stars above and the land filled with thousands of lighting bugs appearing to almost mimic the night sky. We enjoyed dinner at a small roadside canteen before our final stop of the day at a small alcove for hammocks right off the road. $1000 Guyanese dollars ($5 usd) bought us the use of two hammocks for the next 6 hours before we started down the road again. Overnight the temperature dropped drastically and we both became pretty cold. Our salvation was the use of one of our sleeping bags as a blanket and joining together in one hammock.

At 4 AM we awoke and all crammed by into the mini-bus yet again. The further we made it into The Interior (as it is called), the worse and worse the road became. Our driver swerved in and out to avoid the hundreds of massive potholes that dotted the road for hour upon hour. My head would occasional smack the side of the window when I was not paying enough attention. Another danger were deep pits of mud we would sometimes encounter, our fear was that the bus would not be able to navigate them and we would be stuck out here in the middle of no where. To add insult to injury, we were stopped every 50 kilometers for a police passport check. There we would all have to file out of the van and into a tiny municipal police station where a badly uniformed officer would thumb through our passports for who knows what. This happened at least eight times along the way. After one of these many checks, we had one of the most exciting times of the morning crossing a river via a ferry boat as we were leaving Iwok Rama Forest. After we crossed, we enjoyed some curried Chicken and coffee for breakfast. At another stop we had a chance to see some Scarlet Macaws and Parrots, along with a captive monkey while we waited.

The site outside of the jungle were very scant to be had. This is the only road through the interior, and is very sparsely populated. Not until we came to the town of mining town of Linden (formerly McKenzie), 100 kilometers outside of Georgetown did the road finally become paved. From there, we soared through tiny villages with funny English names like "Friendship", "Pearl". "Supply" and more until we reached the capital, Georgetown, our final stop.  We arrived covered in a residue of the red dirt that made up the roads; we were filthy, tired and hungry.  We settled into a small guest house and ate Chinese food for dinner, which tastes better here than it does at home.  Today we'll see some of the city.

Gavin y June

Post 114: Down the Amazon, from Belem to Manaus

Fellow adventurers,

Sorry for the long delay in updates, we have been on the move non-stop and without internet connection since our boat left Belem's port two Wednesdays ago. The ride down the river was a long and sometimes trying one. I wish I could report that it was the thrill of a lifetime, but to be honest most of it was spent in an on-board cabin watching movies and wasting time as the boat slowly made its way upriver to Manaus, the capital of the Amazonas region of Brazil.

We arrived an hour later than we had been told to the dock, thanks to some confusion in the local timezone and a recent switch in daylights saving time, but luckily had many hours to spare before the boat even managed to leave port. That time was spent meeting other gringos who we would occasionally share beers and conversation with over the next 6 days. Before completely settling into our bunk bed cabin, June managed to get us an upgrade to a suite with a private bathroom and double bed. While having a private bathroom was nice, it was rather rusted and smelly. The only source of water was from the river, leaving it a nice brown tint. The room took on a rather foul smell after a few days, leaving us wondering if we had made the right choice. The boat was more modern and much bigger than I had imagined it to be. I originally envisioned a wooden multi-leveled trawler, similar to those commonly seen on the Mississippi, but instead we rode something more akin to a miniature cruise liner. The boat finally departed late in the evening, and we celebrated with some beer as we watched Belem drift out of view.

Over the first few days we ate as the locals did, and enjoyed cheap, basic meals below deck in the canteen. That was until we both became slightly food poisoned yet again, and vowed not to try our luck that way again. The last 4 days of the trip we subsisted on snacks we had brought aboard, our trusty jar of 7 dollar peanut butter and a selection of Cup'O Noodles or Ham and Cheese grilled sandwiches from the 'Lanchaneta' at the aft of the ship.

We lazed about most of the days as the evergreen shoreline of the Amazon slipped by us, kilometers after kilometer. Little villages, cow pastures, homes, churches and schools teeming with life all dotted the riverside for our viewing pleasure. Occasionally the boat would dock in a town or city to drop off or pick up more people and goods. Sometimes we would even be greeted by locals who would incredibly attach their canoes to the moving vessel and board to sell fresh water shrimp or local fruit to passengers. We even caught a glimpse of some river dolphins swimming next to the ship. Some nights we enjoyed beers and watched the stars and full moon rise with our fellow gringos while chatting about our many experiences travelling. On the lower decks, hammocks lined 5 rows deep. We strung up our own in case we felt the need to relax and swing.

Along the way somewhere we became delayed and our boat did not end up arriving in Manaus until late in night of our expected arrival day. We had originally expected to be off the boat around 4pm but instead ended up spending another (our sixth) night sleeping aboard before finally stepping off into Manaus early Tuesday morning.

Gavin y June

Post 113: At the mouth of the Amazon

Fellow adventurers,

Waking up at 5:30 this morning gave us the opportunity to watch the sun rise, presenting silhouettes of the city and the mountains of Rio that lie on the coast. We had a bus to catch to the airport, but met an Argentinean woman who asked if we'd split the cost of a taxi with her. Our taxi driver sped to nearly 100 kph at times, winding past traffic and pointing out favelas and the Carnaval grandstand. Our seat belts were fastened tight and our hearts were in our stomachs, but luckily we safely made it to the airport.

After a 3 1/2 hour flight, we landed in the humid city of Belem, which lies at the mouth of the Amazon river. We managed to find a bus to our hotel, and after settling in we set off to the port to arrange transport for our 5 day boat ride down the Amazon towards Manaus. Surprisingly, the offices at the port were closed but that didn't prevent the ticket hawkers from trying to sell to us. We headed to the local market to buy hammocks, assuming we'd be riding hammock class and would need them for our journey on the boat. Along the way, there were many street vendors selling Brazil nuts, tropical fruits, wooden toys carved from the trees of the rainforest, and my favorite; ice cold coconut milk straight out of the fruit.

Our hotel receptionist insisted we try the local ice cream down on the river, inside a new shopping and restaurant complex. There were many different exotic flavors to choose from, most unheard of.  A popular variety though is of the acai fruit, which originates in this region and is more internationally known as a super food filled with antioxidants. The area serves acai as a street dish, whether served as itself, sweetened or as a dipping sauce for meats and such. Otherwise, it's typically used in smoothies. While I've had it at home, everyone urges me to try it while I'm here, which I still have yet to do. Though the ice cream we shared this afternoon was certainly thicker then what we've had elsewhere in South America, and some of the best yet, so maybe I will listen to the locals when they insist on acai fruit.

It's unlike me to say that Gavin and I were rather apprehensive on riding hammock class as the locals do down the river for 5 days, considering we're ones whom like to immerse ourselves. Sleeping in a hammock after 1 night gets rather uncomfortable, especially when you're crammed on a deck with 100 others in the humidity. Not to mention the lack of privacy or place to safely store your baggage while your in the dining hall. With all this in mind, we wanted to try for a cabin on the boat and decided to put our negotiating skills on the table. All in all, we managed to barter the cabin down from 900 Brl (about $510 usd) to 650 Brl's (about $368 usd) for the both of us in an air conditioned cabin, or a tiny narrow room with a bunk bed. Certainly not cheap, but a significant discount from the original price none the less, and the only means of getting to our flight from this point.

We awarded our negotiating skills with a beer from the Amazon Beer company down in the river complex with the sound of some live jazz behind us. On our walk back, we passed a kiosk selling  'sandwiches,' which really means burgers, hot dogs, pork, bacon and egg or a combo of all in one loaded with varieties of toppings. It smelled delicious and we hadn't eaten any Brazilian food as of yet, so we took a seat on one of the plastic chairs laid out on the side of street (but still in the street.)  We ordered a pork sandwich, served hot with lettuce, tomato, onion, fried egg, and ham topped with a slaw and shoestring potatoes. Those are the moments you have in common with the locals; the enjoyment of something delicious, where you sit and chew and smile at one another although your lives are world's apart. It's very ingenious how vendors come at certain time of day, choose a spot in the street to set up their food cart, lay out some simple chairs and little tables, hand out menus and serve decent food at a good price to a mass of hungry people. If only in America people were so free to do that without all the unnecessary bureaucracy involved. It's something I really like about South America, and travel in general, learning the many different ways one makes the means to survive.

It sounds unpleasant, but sitting in the street with the locals while the trash lies about and the noisy traffic drives by you, feeling the thick humidity in the air, hanging about and eating as locals do is something I never knew I'd miss. It's the unfamiliar that begins to feel more familiar. It's what feels like real travel, real experiences; the feelings you get from somewhere are the places you'll remember most. A young lady on the radio began singing a Bossa Nova version of "Fly me to the Moon" in Portugeuse when Gavin and I began to feel a little sad; we realized we hadn't the time we wanted in Brazil, and also that we were almost home. During our little time we've had in Brazil, we both determined it's someplace we'd like to return and spend more time in.

June e Gavin

Post 112: The Marvelous City - Rio.

Fellow adventurers,

Brazil. Finally. We spent 25 hours on a bus after being ferried over the border by a cab with an older French couple who was exploring the Brazilian side for the day. Goodbye Spanish speaking America, you will be greatly missed. I was just starting to get a handle on the language and now it is completely useless to us. The bus ride to Rio was one of the most difficult yet, and had us regretting taking the semi-cama option. Our bus was stopped several times along the way by the local, federal, and every other police in Brazil to check for drugs. The first stop netted a young women with a pound of weed in her baggage. The hours never seemed to end until we arrived yesterday in the Marvelous city, Rio de Janeiro.

We decided on staying in the neighborhood of Leme, just at the end of Copacabana beach. From the bus station we caught a local bus to Copacabana and hailed a cab for the rest of the short distance. Our hostel is at the bottom of a pacified 'favela', the Brazilian term for slum or ghetto. The road leading in is guarded 24/7 by a militarized patrol car, and overall, we have felt no real safety issues. On our first day we tried to rest and recover from some kind of cold that has been plaguing us for the last week or so, unfortunately to no avail.

Today we decided to try and at least see the famous Christ the Redeemer statue atop Corcovado in the middle of Rio. We had wanted to explore some of the beaches also, but our morning venture to the statue ended up taking the majority of our one and only day here in the city. We hopped on a bus which took us through the neighborhoods of Copacabana, Botofoga, and Flamengo before finally dropping us at the bottom of Corcovado. The site was packed full of tourists, and our tickets didn't end up being for nearly 2 hours after we had arrived. We wasted time in a nearby park, people watching and discussing the dynamics of Brazilian life before it was our turn to take the train to the top.

The train took us through a natural park, teeming with fruit trees, lush greenery, and even some monkeys. As we ascended to the top a band hopped on and serenaded everyone in the local stylings of the Samba. We finally arrived and hopped off making our way to the top, where we were met by hundreds of others wanting to see one of the 7 Man-made Wonders of the World. The third wonder we have seen, after Machu Picchu and the Colosseum. The statue itself was less impressive to me than the surrounding views which were fully encompassing and amazing. Though we did not have several more days to explore the city, we at least had a chance to view from a distance the sights of the Sugarloaf, Maracana, favelas, and the beaches of Copacabana and Ipanema from the skies above Rio.

Tomorrow we fly to Belem, at the mouth the Amazon River. Our first and only goal is to find a boat for Wednesday that will take us down the river to Manaus, from where we have to make our way to Georgetown, Guyana for our flight home next weekend. The boat ride is a full five days of nothing but relaxing as we pass through one of the biggest ecosystems on the planet. Our four month journey is really winding down now and our emotions are very mixed. On one hand we feel relieved to be somewhere familiar and with those we know and love. On the other we are going to miss the continent which has taught us so much and tested us so firmly.

Return we will, to Old Brazil.

Gavin e June

Post 111: Iguazu Falls

Fellow adventurers,

Once there was a god whom planned to marry a beautiful woman named Naipi, but she fled with her mortal lover Taroba in a canoe. In a rage, the god sliced the rivers condemning the lovers to an eternal fall. Legend has it that this is how the 1.7 mile wide waterfalls of the river Iguazu were created. Separate waterfalls and cataracts, as many as 150 - 300 depending on the water level, flow over the edge of the Parana Plateau. They vary in height from 200 - 269 feet high.

After a desperate attempt at turning in all necessary paperwork and about $300 to obtain a visa for our later entrance into Brazil, we caught a bus for a 20 minute ride to Iguazu Falls National Park. Entering the park we were greeted by a number of coatie's, a raccoon like mammal with a pointy snout, sharp canines, and long, striped tail. They rummaged around looking for food, not fearful of humans which made for catching close snapshots of them. They even tore a hole in the plastic bag we were carrying our packed lunch in. As we continued on, we crowded with many others into the rows of seats of a small open train which transported visitors to different parts of the park, where once there the option to hike to different viewpoints of the falls was available.

The train reached it's farthest point of travel at the Garganta del Diablo, or the 'throat of the devil.'   We fought our way through the masses of people walking slowly or occasionally stopping for a photo on the boardwalk that takes you over the rivers towards the viewpoint. It's amazing to me how calm the water seems to be around the massive waterfall, where most of the water flows.  It's no wonder Eleanor Roosevelt said "Poor Niagara" when she saw the u - shaped, 152 ft wide, 2,296 ft long waterfall. Gavin and I were in awe, attempting to snap what photos we could without getting to wet by the thick mist in the air.

All the trails in the park are constructed off the ground in order to not to disturb the natural habitat. Along them we saw many butterflies, some in groups whom would land on you; as well as some species of tropical birds and long legged spiders. The rain started to pour as it briefly does everyday in the tropics, just in time for us to board the train once again. This time we got off at a stop that took us along varying higher and lower points of interest, just as the rain began to pass. We continued to be impressed by the velocity of the falls, and just how many there were. Such geography is almost indescribable, and could only be understood by putting yourself there. I feel like no description or photos could do such justice.

Today we picked up our Visa's, and switched hostels as the one we were in seemed to have a problem with bedbugs that luckily didn't bite us, but others weren't so fortunate. It's 2 weeks until we fly home,  and tomorrow we set on a 25 hour bus journey into the giant nation of Brazil. Just as I was getting more confident with my Spanish speaking skills, I now must learn some Portuguese phrases.  I look forward to Brazil, but also to returning home, although I know once I settle in, I'll be anxious to get on the road again (Turkey and Jordan, perhaps?).

June y Gavin

Post 110: Our last days in Uruguay

Fellow adventurers,

Our last few nights on the beautiful coast of Uruguay were spent camping in Santa Teresa National Parque. During the day we were to leave for the park, we stored our bags with a friendly Canadian couple we had chatted with the night before. We roamed along the northern beach, famously known here as the "Window", for its rocky outcroppings and turbulent winds. The beach had few people compared to the more popular center beach in the city, but was full with a few adventurous sand boarders, and even a kite surfer.

In the evening, we set up 100 meters from the beach under some low lying trees with enough time to make our dinner before the light crept away for the evening.  We star gazed and caught sight of many shooting stars over the shore. Our night ended with a movie in our tent, with the ambient sounds of ocean waves crashing near by.

It turned out the next day that our worries about paying for the site were unfounded, as the park is mostly unmanned and no one comes to bother you about any fee. Our entire stay ended up being free. We roamed around during the early part of our last day in search of the Fortaleza Santa Teresa, but ended up going in the wrong direction all together. Unfortunately we never had a chance to explore the old Spanish colonial fort. Regardless, we enjoyed our time and relaxed. The park lacks any store, but luckly for us, it is full of friendly Uruguayans who were more than happy to help us with supplies as they departed. The owner of a 'kiosko' even gave us an entire bottle of cold spring water from his now closed store. We were here during the end of the heavy season, and the park seemed almost empty.

We had previously changed our return ticket from leave from Punta del Diablo, as oppossed to La Padrera to save the hassle of making our way back down the coast. We were saddened not to be greeted by our host Pablo upon returning to the Uruguayan capital, but took the time to finalize our plans before our departing bus to the northwest of the country. Our final day in Montevideo was bittersweet, as we had grown comfortable to the familiarity of the relaxed port city. Thankfully we had a chance to hang out with our awesome host before catching the midnight bus to Salto. Our bus departed right as an intense thunderstorm was overtaking the city. The plan had been to enjoy a movie before sleep, but the show outside our windows was much more of a draw.

The bus ended up arriving in Salto far before the sun rose, leaving us with ample time before our next bus and no place to continue our much needed sleep. After consulting a local wall map, we headed for a park a few blocks from the bus station, opting to some rest under a tree until the sun rose. When it finally did, we walked through the border city to the Rio Uruguay, from where we were trying to reach Concordia, Argentina for our bus north to Iguazu. The border crossing was one of the most unique we have taken in the last 4 months. With just enough money in our pockets to get across, we caught a local boat departing a few minutes later for the Argentine shores, a mere 5 minute ride away. Our exit stamp was given by a lady and her child, sitting in an empty port building above where our boat was waiting. Of the ten people aboard, we were the only foreigners. It seems as though this route is not very frequented by travelers from abroad.

The border point on the Argentine side was just as simplistic and fast. We were lost as we left the immigration office at the center of a Naval base, and without funds until we could reach an 'cajero automatico'. Luckily a local man kindly offered us a ride after we inquired about the direction of the bus terminal, which was many kilometers away. He was very jovial and we spoke to him in our broken Spanish as he ferried us through town. From there, we waited for the rest of the evening until we caught our bus to Puerto Iguazu, on the Brazilian border.

Gavin y June

Post 109: Vacation away from our vacation

Fellow adventurers,

Our weekend in Montevideo was pleasant and relaxing, aside from the intense heat.  We spent it exploring much of Ciudad Vieja, Montevideo’s old city.  We attempted to go in or tour many buildings, including the Teatro Solis and Palacio Salvo (once S.A’s tallest building) but being the weekend, surprisingly most everything is closed.  We had also wanted to go out in the evening to see some Carnaval festivities we heard were going on, but were worried about walking around at night even though Uruguay has a reputation as being one of the safest in S.A.  On Monday we were looking forward to escaping the city and traveling along the coast to take in some cooler breezes, so we headed to the bus station and set off.

As our bus approached La Pedrera, each campground we passed was filled to the max with tents.  They even lined the roadside. We learned after inquiring that most were full, and the only sites available were $50 dollars.  The reason for this was La Pedrera was hosting Carnaval festivities in the evening.  We decided to head out of town to look for someplace private we could set up, and ended up settling deep into some nearby woods of eucalyptus trees where the grass was tall and wet.

As the sun began to set, we headed back into town just as the vendors had finished setting up their grills and the parades of festive people, either dressed in various costumes, wearing masks or bodies painted, began to crowd in. The streets of sand were muddy and puddled from the scattered rains throughout the day.  We could not walk down it without being sprayed by silly string or white foam shot from aerosol cans that were being vended everywhere. Targets were indiscriminate though usually relegated for young woman. From the side of the street, kids threw water balloons and some people would randomly dump buckets of water on others. Luckily we made it through what was just the beginning of a chaotic night for many, and went over the beach where we sat for awhile.  It’s interesting to think some place so small and usually quiet turns into an absolute night of debauchery once a year, but it is Carnaval. Walking back, Gavin and I avoided the busiest of the crowded street by taking a side street. We ate a mediocre sausage sandwich and drank a beer while we watched the wild people party on the street before stumbling through the forest, in search of our tent.

We were rather glad we didn’t camp in town because their probably wouldn’t have been any sleeping, with the amount of noise and partying happening all throughout the night.  The following morning the streets were trashed and muddier than ever. People slept just about everywhere; in their cars, on cardboard boxes, or even on the side of the busy main road wrapped in a blanket. We were ready to leave and head for the quieter communities along the coast. After about 20 minutes of walking with our thumbs out on the only road that takes you North, we were picked up by a friendly, young Argentine; Gustavo. Our first attempt had proven successful and saved us 20+ miles of walking along the long road that stretched mostly across vast green acres of cow and horse pastures, sparsely shaded by scattered palms. The only road that connects you to the orange, sandy streets which lead into the many tiny, rural communities on the coast.

Gustavo dropped at the entrance of Cabo Polonia, a small hippy community of 72 inhabitants with no roads, no running water or electricity and where we had planned to camp one night. After learning there isn’t a campground, we decided to skip paying the 170 Pesos (about $8.50) for the ride in, and head further north. We caught a bus for about $4.00 that would take us to the beautiful coastline of Punto Del Diablo, where there’s plenty of campgrounds. We settled at a campground only about 10 minutes walk from the beach under pine trees and more screeching parrots before we explored the bohemian town with an eclectic mix of colorful cottages that gives it it’s rustic charm.

Wednesday was spent at the beach.  The waves were large, strong and constant which made for fun swimming but even better boogie boarding if I only had one. Then we shared a Caipirinha, the national drink of Brazil made with sugar cane rum, sugar and muddled lime served over ice.  It was delicious and refreshing, but more than one would have had me sleeping on the beach only to wake up looking like a lobster, so we drank it at the beach bar while people watching. Almost all of the woman on the beach, both young and old, wear bikini thongs or the like. While not accustomed to being surrounded to by so many practically bare bottoms, we weren’t sure how we particularly felt about seeing prepubescent girls as young as 10 walking around with their butts out. While socially acceptable here, it’s very taboo for us as North Americans to see, unless maybe you’re in Miami. Overall, I loved how lawless the beaches are here unlike the ones at home, at least in my home state of New Jersey. Everyone was harmonious, minding their own and enjoying themselves.  Traveling is beginning to make me feel just how little freedom we actually have in America.

As the sun began to lower, we took a walk on the sandy coastal trails that go over sand dunes and run alongside flattened boulders.  It led us to Playa Grande, an expansive, secluded beach (hence the name) which runs inland.  We also explored the wooded area behind where we will be camping the next few days beginning tomorrow.  The remainder of our time here will be spent camping, exploring Fortaleza Santa Teresa, and just going to the beach before heading back to Montevideo for one night. I hope the pleasant warm weather will hold out for our time here.  We can’t believe we only have 3 weeks left of our journey and we’re doing our best to save money in order to make it home. Our cash supply is running quite low. After Igauzu Falls next week, we’ll be on a journey through Brazil and Guyana not so much to see sights (unless they’re free), but to make our flight home.

June y Gavin

Post 108: Killed with kindness in Montevideo y mas futbol

Fellow adventurers,

Montevideo has to be the most welcoming place we have been yet. While in Cartagena, Colombia we hung out with guy at our hostel from Montevideo, Uruguay named Pablo who invited us to stay with him when we visited his home city several months later.

We were greeted as old friends upon our arrival and then taken on a driving tour of the Uruguay's capital city. Pablo showed us the Rambla (a 14 mile long boardwalk), the old city, and several other sites of interest. For dinner we had chivitos (a local sandwich comprising of sliced beef, ham, lettuce, tomatoe, and topped with a friend egg) and some beers. Later after a few more drinks and catching up we met with Vicky, a friend of Pablo's from his home town of Punta del Este. Oddly enough she went to college near my home town in Central Florida. It really is a small world.

The following morning we awoke and went to the local football ground to try and procure tickets for a match to be held that night. Though unsuccessful, we had a chance to explore the clubhouse and stadium. The clubhouse (Cristal Palace) was home to what must have been hundreds of domestic and international trophies from the 100 plus years of history of the club. The walls were lined with old photos and giant player banners commemorating all the victories of years past. Gran Parque Central, the clubs home field was built in 1900, and was also used as the stadium for the first ever World Cup match back in 1930. Uruguay won the cup that year, and again in 1950. The Stadium has been home to Nacional Club de Futbol for over 110 years.

Later in the day, Vicky and I went down to the stadium again to try to buy tickets off someone. Oddly enough, selling tickets is illegal and is treated by those looking to sell as one would a drug transaction back home, with complete and utter discretion. We were unsuccessful until Pablo arrived and was able to get two tickets after a relentless search. He insisted I be able to see this game. Afterall, how many times will I be in Montevideo. His last purchase was done with a sense of utter irony to an American. The seller was smoking a joint within 15 feet of a police officer, but was far more concerned with how to hide the plastic wrapped game ticket in his hands for the transaction. Unfortunately we unable to get a fourth ticket. June volunteered to stay behind. I was able to attend, but had to sit alone. Pablo was generous enough to give me the ticket to his normal seat, on the lower grand stand along the middle of the pitch.

At first I went to the wrong gate, and waited through the long lines of stoned, drunk and crazed supporters who were chanting and randomly firing off flares and fireworks in any and all directions. As I arrived to the ticket taker, he pointed me to another gate, away from the fanaticos. I was lucky to be at the wrong gate, because they were checking ID's at the first, and I would have easily been turned away, or worse yet, had to try and explain why I was there with my very limited Spanish vocabulary.

I arrived inside right as the game was starting. In search of my seat, I was surrounded by deep red and white smoke from the smoke bombs that had been lit off to show the supporters love for their historic local club in their battle up the rankings for the continental title of South America, the Copa Libertadores, or Liberators Cup. Everyone was smoking marijuana and drinking heavily, all in the presence of small children and the elderly. Fireworks rang out and all cheered as Nacional took to the field to take on Club Libertad, from Paraguay.

(Match highlights)

The game was fast pace, and fun to watch. Nacional led until well into the 2nd half, eventually losing the game after a major push from the opposing side. I took major enjoyment in the crowd around me, and surprisingly managed to blend right out. Not for a second do I think anyone took me as an outsider. Of course, I stayed mum outside of ordering a Torta with a simple "Una, por favor". This was by far and away the best game I have attended yet on the continent. A packed stadium, tons of adoring fans and an atmosphere of pure football insanity. It couldn't get much better than this for me, and in such a historic setting.

After the game, we met back up with June at Pablos and were joined by another of his friends. From there we went to a local bar for a round of drinks, which our host were insistent on treating us to. We all laughed through our many poor attempts to speak Spanish and enunciate in the proper way. We even dabbled in tongue twisters, non of which I had any success with. The kindness and welcoming attitude of the Uruguaynos was unrivaled by any of the locals I have met in our 3 months down here.

We have the weekend in the city and plan to take our time and see a few local sites. Our next stop is the coast of Uruguay, before we head onto Igauzu and Brazil. It is hard to believe we have less than a month left on the journey. Our ever gracious host will be gone for the weekend but left us a set of keys to inhabit his apartment. I hope one day we get to repay him for his great kindness to us.

Gavin y June

Post 107: Colonia del Sacramento

Fellow adventurers,

The trip across the Rio de la Plata was quick and forgetful. We did not even realize the boat had left until we saw the huge walls of ships parked in Beunos Aires port passing by us. Our Argentine pesos were traded upon arrival for Uruguayan ones when we crossed the river. Yet another set of numbers to exchange in my head for the next few weeks to come.

We eventually found a tourist office and inquired about camping. The only site to do so was 2.5 km out of town, and a good half hours walk away. I would become very familiar with this route over the next few days. It was located down a highway from the old port town of Colonia on the road to Montevideo. All roads in Uruguay, South America's second smallest nation behind Suriname, seem to lead to its capital city.

As has been done many times in the past few weeks, we set up camp and made plans to explore the area over the next few days that followed. Our site was located under a palm tree, within view of a practice sized football pitch. The campsite is on the training ground of one of Uruguay's many local football teams. The trees above had many screeching green parrots. We decided to go to the market and buy our food for dinner, but instead ended up spending the rest of the afternoon there to escape the intense heat. We enjoyed a movie (The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo) and much needed air conditioning until near dusk.

The next day we explored Colonia del Sacramento. The small city was one of the earliest European settlements in Uruguay, founded by the Portuguese in 1680. In its history it switched between Spanish and Portuguese control many times before the foundation of the Uruguayan nation.

We walked along the old city walls and streets, and through the many squares of this a-typical colonial town, who's grid and layout very similar to the many towns we had seen in the past few months. Of highlight was a lighthouse, built in the mid 1800s which we had the chance to climb for a modest $1.50 (30 UYUpesos). After a while, the heat and soaring humidity made us call it quits early. The search for shade was much more than we could handle after the very little sleep we had in the days prior.

My first impression of Uruguay is that it reminds me a lot of where I grew up. The intense heat and humidity, semi-tropical trees, and flat grassy terrain all made me think of my childhood years back home in Central Florida.

Next stop: Montevideo.

Gavin y June

Post 106: Buenos Aires pt. 2

'Fellow adventurers,

Yearning to explore the antique shops and boutiques around San Telmo, I set out yesterday leaving Gavin behind for a lackadaisical day to himself. The weather had only slightly cooled, and I wondered some streets I had not yet explored.  They led me to nearby park, where a cafe was hosting some tango, and I luckily caught the end of it.  There were some vendors selling mostly handicrafts, antiques and jewelry in the park as well, and it wasn't long before I was chatted up by a local jeweler, wishing to "accompany me to tango lessons, on my return to Buenos Aires".  Many boutiques and antique shops later, I found myself in the San Telmo mercado picking up ingredients to make dinner.  By this time the vendors recognized me, and happily greeted me as I walked by their stalls.

Today Gavin and I ventured out to La Recoleta Cemetary, Buenos Aires first public cemetery set on 14 acres and founded in 1822.  It is like a city within itself, filled with mausoleums of many architectural styles for the dead, including Eva Peron and many other notable characters of Argentina's elite past.  The cemetery is also filled with old dirty cats who seem to take up residence full time there.

As we wondered, I stopped and noticed a unique tomb done in a neogothic style, unlike the rest.  On it was a large statue of a girl in a long gown with her hand resting on her dogs head next to her.  There was also a plaque, with what looked to be a poem in Italian.  I overheard the story of the tomb from a tour guide, and after further researched learned that she had died in 1970, at the age of 26, while honeymooning in Austria by an avalanche that had struck her hotel.  The poem translates to:

To my Daughter

Only I ask myself why
You left and left my heart destroyed
That wanted only you, why?
Why? Only destiny knows the reason, and I ask myself why?

Because we can’t be without you, why?
You were so beautiful that invidious nature destroyed you. Why?
I only ask myself why, if God exists, does he take away that which is His name.
Because He destroys us and leaves us to an eternity of sadness!

Why? I believe in fate and not in you. Why?
Because I only know that I always dream with you, why is that?
For all the love my heart feels for you.
Why? Why?

Your Papá

After some further research of tombs we visited, I learned that each one has it's own interesting story,  as well as some mysterious urban legends which can be easily read about here; which I'd suggest you should if you're into that sort of thing.

On Sundays, San Telmo has a outdoor street market.  We didn't anticipate the sheer scale of it.  Man blocks are lined with people selling antiques (of course!) artwork, handicrafts, goods, baked goods, clothes etc, etc.  There's also live tango, which we thoroughly enjoyed watching the couples sensually move in synchronization with one another to the sound of an accordion and stringed instruments.  I couldn't help but stop to listen to musicians playing tango music all the while a young porteno let his deep, strong voice empower the him with it.  I wish there was a way to describe the feeling you get from the sounds and the sight.  Romantic, sensual, perhaps envious.  The want to learn to the tango the that seeps into the streets, and surround yourself with it.  When would the novelty of it be lost, I wonder?

With little anticipation, we leave the fair winds city tomorrow for an early 5 hour boat ride across el rio del la plata, or the river plate, to Colonia del Sacramento in Uruguay.  We will be camping there for two days.  Although I'm sure Colonia will be delightful, I was really beginning to feel comfortable in our little apartment.  It's nice to take care as if a place were your own home, and it never crossed my mind I'd slightly miss cleaning.  I also have gotten quite acquainted with the neighborhood.  Oh Buenos Aires, how you call my name.

June y Gavin

Post 105: Buenos Aires pt. 1

Fellow adventurers,

Gavin and I have an apartment in San Telmo, one of the oldest neighborhoods of Buenos Aires, the Argentinian Capital and port city which has a name that translates in Spanish to 'fair winds.'  The neighborhood has many cobblestone streets lined with wrought iron lanterns, and well preserved 19th century architecture.  There's literary cafes, restaurants, an open market, boutiques and numerous fine antique shops.  Our first day in BA was spent lounging around, and planning for our week spent here.  We did make it out to purchase groceries at the local Mercado San Telmo, built in 1897 with characteristics of an Italian style.  We wondered around a bit in the massive market after buying produce, admiring the artistic qualities of the glass and the strong iron structure of the ceilings.

The following day we walked along the docklands in Puerto Madero to purchase our tickets for the ferry to Colonia del Sacramento in Uruguay. Along the way we saw the recently built Women's Bridge (Puente de la Mujer), an architectural wonder. It is a swing bridge, uniquely asymmetrical. We were advised to purchase them as soon as possible, as it is the height of the tourist season.  Afterwards, we began our self guided walking tour through the city center visiting historical sites and landmarks.  Our tour began in a lovely, small city square of Parque San Martin.  It is surrounded by french style buildings overlooking Torre Monumental, or Monumental Tower, erected in 1810 as a gift from the British.  The world famous Teatro Colon was our next stop along the way, an opera house erected in 1908, said to be one the top 5 best concert venues acoustically worldwide.  Unfortunately it was not open at the moment for a tour, and the performance season has not begun.  How I would have loved to see a ballet in such a majestic theater!

The walking kept on while our skin began to soak from the high humidity.  We passed the Obelisk, similar to the one in DC.  We crossed the worlds widest avenue a few times, the impressive Avenida 9 de Julio.  This city block wide avenue hosts 7 lanes in each direction, with parallel streets of 2 lanes on either side, totaling 16 lanes of traffic.  Then on to the Metropolitan Cathedral and Casa Rosada, or Pink House.  This baby pink house is the official executive mansion of Argentina.  Outside it, a protest was taking place for the Malvinas. Gavin and I were quite hungry, sweaty and exhausted by this point.  Although there was more to explore on our tour, we decided to call it a day and save it for the next.

The tour was concluded along the Avenida de Mayo the next day, lined with an eclectic mix of elegant buildings of the art noveau and neoclassical styles; as is the rest of the city, although the architecture in BA is often compared to what you'd see in Paris or Madrid.  Our long walk down it ended at the Congressional Plaza.  It was suggested to us to visit Cafe Tortino along the Avenida. This cafe opened in 1858 and is Argentina's oldest.  Although quite touristic, it was quite lovely to sit in and enjoy a coffee and churros.  Afterwords, we headed to the Mercado San Telmo once again to pick up steak and produce to make for dinner.

Today Gavin and I took the subway to the bohemian, trendy neighborhood of Palermo. The tree lined, cobblestone streets of this neighborhood are lined with various boutiques, art galleries, bars, cafes, sidewalk sales, and restaurants.  It's known as the Soho of BA, and if you've been to New York, you'd understand why.  We also enjoyed cooler temperatures as I roamed the boutiques and galleries, telling myself I need to return to Buenos Aires, even if it is only to shop.   Dinner out was at an affordable restaurant, enjoying cold glasses of Brahma beer and slices of some of the best pizza we've had in South America (which is saying a lot, considering pizza throughout SA has been very good).  Afterwords, we treated ourselves to gelato, to further enjoy the evening weather.

Tomorrow, we are touring the famous Recoleta Cemetery, and the neighborhood.  There apparently is an open air market as well on the weekend.  Thus far, I must say the fair winds city has been my favorite all throughout South America.  It has all the characteristics I appreciate in a city.  Good architecture, friendly people, good public transit, boutiques, electic restaurants, cafes,arts and culture.  It is someplace I could see myself living, and I look forward to the remainder of our time here.

June y Gavin