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One day… you have to live your dream. Solo through South America
Just in time for Christmas I came home from an epic journey through South America. Riding my trusty DRZ400S through Argentina, Uruguay, a tiny bit of Brazil, Paraguay, Bolivia, Peru and the whole length of Chile down to Tierra del Fuego, I covered 23,517 kilometres / 14,616 miles in four months.
http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...7_gNNoK-XL.jpg This trip was everything and more I had ever dreamt of. In the weeks to come I am going to tell you all about it; here is just a little taster of my experiences: I saw fascinating landscapes - Cataratas del Iguazú, Argentina / Brazil http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...79_kNPAm-L.jpg Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...58_ajMSe-L.jpg Torres del Paine, Chile http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...83_hQ2Zy-L.jpg … and beautiful places – Machu Picchu, Peru (no, I didn't ride my bike along this path) http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Mach...93_dmBfH-L.jpg Arequipa by night, Peru http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Peru...97_8dMy9-L.jpg Cerro Fitz Roy, Argentina http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ruta...48_F5RzX-L.jpg I rode awesome roads – http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ruta...00_7R6EF-L.jpg Ruta 26 between Cuzco and Nasca, Peru http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...32_7pskU-L.jpg Carretera Austral, Chile http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...36_FgkmE-L.jpg Caught glimpses of history – Brachiosaurus bones in the palaeontological museum MEF in Trelew, Argentina http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...4_nSbtW-XL.jpg 7,000 year old mummies from the Chinchorro culture, San Miguel de Azapa, Chile http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...93_u5kds-L.jpg Ocotber 2010, Copiapó, Chile http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Chil...06_H8vE4-L.jpg Watched wonderful wildlife – Vicuñas in the Lauca National Park, Chile http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...32_fgfar-L.jpg Pelicans on the Pacific coast, Iloca, Chile http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...96_tYEpy-L.jpg Magellan Penguins, Patagonia, Argentina http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...13_2oe67-L.jpg Had a fair share of “Oops” and “Doh…!” moments – http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Chil...78_yPHWL-L.jpg Near Pucón, Los Lagos, Chile http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Chil...3_Bna4T-XL.jpg “Should I have listened to the GPS?” http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Chil...69_QH33X-L.jpg Learnt a lot about the mechanics of my bike – In the workshop of Motoservi in Sucre, Bolivia http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...12_JQVzG-L.jpg During regular maintenance days http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...79_XYhgM-L.jpg What a neglected sparkplug looks like after 22,000 kilometres… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ruta...2_r8DZV-XL.jpg Tasted delicious food – Llama steak, Uyuni, Bolivia http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...13_wPacd-L.jpg Trucha (trout), freshly caught from Lago Titikaka, Bolivia http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Lago...30_W5fgK-L.jpg Home cooked meals… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ruta...12_KrR5j-L.jpg And, best of all, I met amazing people everywhere. Here are just a few – Benita on the street market in La Paz, Bolivia http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...94_9W4BL-L.jpg Oscar and Julia in San Fernando, Chile, who let me park the bike in their dining room http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Chil...47_cxfjJ-L.jpg Jorge, Facundo and their friends in Otamendi, Buenos Aires Province, who introduced me to the pleasures of a proper Argentinean Asado (BBQ) http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...90_6KfKx-L.jpg As English is not my first language, it will take me some time to write the report but I hope you will find it worth the wait… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...74_j6PnF-L.jpg |
Wow cracking pics. i,m not jealous honest. I look forward to reading more Pumpy are you going to do a presentation at Lumb Farm?
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Tin Tin!:smartass:
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See you in June then! :thumbup1: |
A few background details...
... for the ones who don't know me:
Pumpernickel is the name of a distinctive black German rye bread and that’s what my English friends call me, subtly hinting at my origin. I was born and raised in Berlin, moved to Hamburg after the Wall came down and then on to the United Kingdom after meeting my English partner in the middle of nowhere in the Spanish Pyrenees. http://possu.smugmug.com/Motorcycles...83_ok9Lx-S.jpg I have been riding motorcycles for over twenty years and although I have taken every single bike I owned off the tarmac, I only seriously started trail riding when I came to the British Isles. Well, this enjoyable activity should have prepared me for the mostly unpaved roads in South America – that’s what I was hoping for anyway… http://possu.smugmug.com/Motorcycles...54_ZExtP-M.jpg Photo courtesy of Timpo Why South America and why now? It was in my revolutionary teenage years when I first heard of Chile: a nation that believed that socialism could be achieved through democracy and the sheer will of the people. I was fascinated and even the fact that a military coup ended Salvador Allende’s ambitious project three years later and led to almost two decades of one of the most brutal dictatorships of the twentieth century, could not deter my enthusiasm. There was so much more to Chile: its history, its people, its literature and above all its geography. Wedged between the Andes and the Pacific Ocean, never more than 240 kilometres (150 miles) wide, the country stretches over 4,300 km (2,670 m) and four climate zones from the Atacama Desert to Patagonia. One day, I wanted to travel the whole length of this amazing country. In the late nineties, I started to prepare my dream trip more seriously by learning Spanish and going on a sort of test ride to Spain and Portugal – six weeks with just my R80GS and a small tent. But life took a different course; in the Pyrenees I met an irresistible Englishman and moved to the UK two years later, trading one big adventure for a possibly even greater one of living as a stranger in a strange land. Settling in went really well though, I grew fond of my new home country and its people, and even after nine years I still enjoy the difference. However, in the back of my head there was still this dream lingering and the thought of “one day, yes, one day I will go… ” I might have woken up one day and realised that I was too old, too ill or too comfortably established to embark on this trip. But then, in October 2009 a big reorganisation was announced at work including the expendability of 50 employees. The months that followed were very unsettling; everyone had to apply for new jobs or, in my and my colleagues’ case, for their own jobs, which I found rather humiliating to say the least. Of course, I looked at the most interesting roles in the 'new' organisation, rewrote my CV, complied with all the required procedures but the risk of not making it through the selection process hung over my head day and night. “Don’t worry,” said the irresistible Englishman, “if you are made redundant then you can fulfil your dream and go to Chile.” Hey, that’s the right attitude – always see the opportunity in a difficult situation! It also helped that straight after this conversation I went to a meeting of motorcycle travellers who, naturally, all encouraged me to take the plunge. After working for the company for over seven years, I was going to get a generous severance package that would help me to fund the trip without having to sell house and kids. So when the application deadline came, I thought: “Why should I wait for some manager to make the decision for me?” and opted straight for the redundancy. Still, it was not an easy decision for someone with a Prussian upbringing and hence a strong sense of duty, an orderly life and job security. There were quite a few nights when I lay awake and thought: “Oh my God, what have I done?” My last day at work was the 28th of May 2010 and on the 31st I broke my foot whilst trail-riding... Still, I was determined to stick to the original schedule and fly out to Buenos Aires as planned on 17th August. A lot of things had to be squeezed into the time in between: surgery and bone healing, plenty of physio, preparing my bike and equipment, completing my qualification as a Business Analyst, getting CV and profile up to scratch, more vaccinations, and, and, and... http://possu.smugmug.com/Motorcycles...61_CNWR5-M.jpg Since this was going to be the trip of a lifetime, I extended the route a bit so that my journey would take me not only to Chile but from Buenos Aires through Uruguay to the Iguazú Falls on the border between Argentina and Brazil, across to Paraguay, Bolivia, Peru, from there into northern Chile, down to Patagonia and Tierra del Fuego, and then up to Buenos Aires again. Before I set off I was not sure what I would do after returning to the UK; travelling changes your perception of the world and the priorities in your life. I thought that I might miss all my colleagues too much and go back to my old company if there was an interesting vacancy. Or – having been a Youth Worker for over twenty years of my life – I might want to do something more meaningful in future. Well, I’m still busy re-adjusting to Europe; the journey has certainly helped me to get a clearer idea of what I don’t want to do. So at the moment I am living of my savings and looking what’s happening on the market. Seeing the conditions in which people survive in South America has put things right into perspective: I won't starve and I won't have to build a cardboard-shed on the outskirts of Oxford; there is work in this country and even if I need to do something below my qualification for a while, I am pretty confident that the right job for me is out there somewhere. You see? Nothing to be afraid of... :) |
What a brilliant write-up Pumpy, and the photos are amazing.
I must be twice your age and I keep thinking that I'd love to do a big trip, and what your story tells me is - why not? Your tale is what HU was made for, well done you for completing it and thanks for being an inspiration to those of us still here. |
Some wonderful photos there :yes: When I got to the one of you on your bike in the mud bath I suddenly realised that I had read about you before, which was again confirmed when I saw you in your cast. Then I realised that I had been reading your web site as you headed towards the end of your journey :rolleyes3:
That's another talk already on my list for Ripley :clap: |
The Bike
BMW GS's are really capable and versatile motorcycles, I had several models as my main means of transport since 1994 and I really enjoy taking my 1150 everywhere - but it is a bit on the heavy side, especially when you think about loading it up with camping gear, luggage, tools and spares for a four-month trip.
http://possu.smugmug.com/Motorcycles...11_J2nKL-M.jpg Photo courtesy of Clive So after quite a few people had pointed out that I might be better off with a vehicle that I could comfortably lift by myself should I drop it, the focus shifted to the little dual sports bike that I use for trail riding – a DRZ400S: http://possu.smugmug.com/Motorcycles...37_n7ZoN-M.jpg Photo courtesy of Louisdut The majority of the modifications necessary to turn the DRZ into an adventure bike was carried out by my wonderful personal mechanic - so I let Steve tell you about his work himself. |
We’d already decided that a Suzuki DRZ 400 S would be the ideal bike for Ela’s trip to South America as it was reliable, had good aftermarket support and was relatively light (in comparison to her BMW R1150 GS anyway…), meaning that she could pick it up herself if for some reason the bike found itself on its side... Despite already owning a DRZ, we decided to buy another one specifically for this trip, one that was newer, in better condition and with fewer miles on the clocks. Another factor was that in November 2009, the chain had snapped on the old bike, holing the left-hand crankcase in process and dumping most of its oil on the road.
As the bike had covered the best part of 20,000 miles already, rather than strip it down to replace the case, I simply filed a piece of aluminium to shape that filled the 25mm x 5mm hole in the clutch arm housing and had a friend TiG weld over the top. Prior to this, I picked out all the debris I could and then changed the oil and filter twice before running the bike as normal. Not wanting the outcome of Ela’s trip decided by what could turn out to be an unreliable bike, starting afresh with another bike was the best option in our opinion. Ela eventually bought a tidy, low mileage (2,600 miles) 2004 DRZ 400 S from MadMikey near Bridgend, South Wales that had been advertised on UKGSer* ::::* For BMW GS Enthusiasts. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...29_Um9pb-M.jpg The bike was standard with the exception of a DEP silencer, decent bashplate and handguards. Ela had already bought a second-hand 16 litre Clarke fuel tank in blue whilst the newly purchased bike was yellow. Swapping the panels between the older blue bike and the newer yellow bike achieved two things, firstly, the tank was now the right colour and secondly, the blue panels were scuffed from trail riding and once the graphics were removed, it made the bike look less attractive to thieves but more importantly, it also looked less “flash”, important in poorer parts of the world. I then drew up a list of modifications that were required to transform the bike from humble trailie to what could be termed an Adventure bike. I soon discovered that as soon as I crossed one item off the list, another idea or part cropped up and was added to the list, at times the list of things to do was growing faster than I could accomplish the tasks I’d set myself; what started out as base list of about 20 modifications ended up at just over 60 and that’s not including the little things that I did along the way that I never noted down. Most of the ideas were a combination of common sense, experience from 26 years riding and spannering and also reading DRZ related threads on various online forums such as Advrider.com and Thumpertalk.com. As a former DRZ owner myself, I had a good grasp of the basics anyway. Having worked on and serviced all of our bikes for many years, owning a double length garage equipped with an old lathe, decent pillar drill, MiG welder, tyre changing equipment and a good selection of power tools meant I felt confident in tackling just about every task on the list. For those tasks I knew I’d struggle with, I’m lucky enough to have a good friend in Simon Moore who I often run ideas past even when doing all of the work myself, just in case I was doing it the hard or the wrong way. Where I have what I term “hobby” equipment, Simon has industrial tooling to hand including a mill, lathe and all types of welding gear plus he’s into bikes big time, so could appreciate where I was coming from and what I was trying to achieve. Luggage Racks We bought a set of used tubular steel Givi pannier rails originally destined for an airhead GS. Once all brackets and mounts were removed, I was left with the hoops which are hardest part to manufacture yourself in my opinion. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...91_ufYvZ-M.jpg I bought several metres each of 25mm x 6mm thick flat steel bar and 16mm diameter steel tube with a 2mm wall thickness. It was always our intention to incorporate a 5 litre fuel can in to the left hand pannier frame, an idea shamelessly stolen from Louisdut’s BMW HP2. The fuel container was in fact from a boat and measured only 70mm wide which made it ideal. I started by bending lengths of steel bar to shape to form the support for the fuel can before welding them to the pannier hoops. Once completed, I lined up the pannier hoops on each side of the bike via brackets I’d welded in place and through an existing 9mm hole on each side of the subframe that I drilled out to 10mm. Once happy with the location of each hoop, I started fabricating the necessary mounting hardware to hold it all in place. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...00_9VbQK-M.jpg I’d already decided to weld a 6mm thick steel plate to each side of the frame above the swingarm pivot point to which the pannier frames would be mounted via steel tubes. The idea (not my own) was that additional bracing to the bike’s frame itself would also help brace the DRZ’s aluminium subframe and help spread the load. In addition to the 10mm mounting in the subframe, I welded a bracket to each side of the DRZ rear rack to provide another mounting point via a welded on steel tube and another 10mm stainless Allen bolt. From there, mounts were fabricated to fasten the frames to the footpeg mounts on each side and to the previously mentioned lugs welded to the bike frame. Finally, I added a removable crossbrace that ran across the rear of the bike, beneath the tailpiece and behind the rear wheel but positioned high enough so that rear wheel removal did not require removal of the crossbrace. This crossbrace would help strengthen the rear of the luggage racks. Extra lengths of flat bar were welded in place to protect the front leading edge of the fuel can in the event of a crash. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...66_oAs8t-M.jpg Whilst there, I incorporated a Tool Tube in to the left hand frame & tucked in tight to the bike to mimic the location of the right hand mounted silencer, this is to carry tools and tyre levers but was originally intended for a Tractor Operators manual and is a popular addition to this type of bike. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...55_8PMb8-M.jpg As Ela’s using Ortlieb soft panniers, I welded a steel hoop on to the top of each frame through which to pass mounting straps. All fasteners are 8mm and 10mm stainless steel Allen bolts retained with stainless washers and Nyloc nuts. Where fasteners screw directly in to the frame, longer bolts were utilised with stainless Nyloc nuts and washers on the back, locking the fastener in place to prevent it coming loose on the rougher sections of the trip. The complete rear rack and pannier frames were powder-coated black at Oxford Industrial Finishers for £20 and weigh just over 5kg including fasteners but not the fuel can itself. The end result is a rack system in three parts, each of which can be removed from the bike independent of the other sections, making it easier to remove and fit to the bike. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...54_wEE68-M.jpg Soft Luggage As mentioned above, waterproof Ortlieb panniers will be mounted on the racks themselves with Wolfman Expedition Dry Tank Panniers up front. Across the back of the bike are two 30 litre waterproof sacks from Motorrad Louis in Germany. A Kriega US5 pouch is mounted on the front mudguard to carry two spare inner tubes. I extended the Velcro crossover straps on the Ortliebs with lengths of the necessary Velcro riveted on to the standard straps. Slots were cut in the rad shrouds through which the tank pannier straps passed, in addition to straps around the frame above the swingarm pivot. Additional fuel capacity The 5 litre fuel can was sourced from an online marine chandlers; it came with a cap but no spout. Trying to pour a full can into the bike fuel tank led to us losing at least 0.5 litres each time as the fuel dripped down the side of the can. To prevent fuel wastage, I cut a hole in the centre of a spare cap and using silicon sealant, stuck the plastic spout from a 5 litre oil can to the cap; Ela just screws it on as and when needed. Chassis To keep the bike manageable for Ela, I fitted Talon lowering links to the suspension linkage to lower the rear of the bike. To maintain a level bike and retain decent steering geometry, the front needed to be lowered also, this entailed pushing the forks through the yokes but the position of the handlebars prevented me from doing so, a problem resolved by fitting Talon handlebar risers which allowed us to push the forks through by 20mm. We used the seat from the other DRZ which had already had about 20-25mm of seat foam removed by a local guy, reducing the seat height even further. The seat was topped off with a sheepskin Ela had given to me years ago but which I’d never used, so it was “appropriated” for the trip, cut to shape and held in place with Cordura straps. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...65_4DfVc-M.jpg Ela had always found it a bit fiddly to remove the DRZ front spindle as once it was pushed through from the left; there was only a short section of greased spindle to grab on the right. This was remedied by making a spindle puller for each bike. I started by cutting the hex spindle removal tool in half, drilling the centre out to 12mm to save weight and then drilling a 6mm hole near one end of each piece at right angles. Into this hole was inserted a 100mm length of 6mm round steel bar which was then welded in place before the whole thing was welded in to the end of the wheel spindle for ease of use and to save space in the toolkit. http://possu.smugmug.com/Motorcycles...31_gAPre-M.jpg Having experienced the trauma of a snapped chain, I doubled the thickness of the stock case saver to 6mm with the aid of a steel plate cut to shape and then welded to the standard part. Footpegs were also swapped between bikes as the older bike had significantly wider footpegs that offered greater support in the event of needing to stand on the ‘pegs for any length of time. I also cable tied every pair of spokes where they crossed over, hopefully preventing any broken spokes from catching in calipers and discs etc. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...21_6fYU2-M.jpg I also replaced the standard 5mm and 6mm screws that retained the headlight cowl as they were fiddly to use, especially the 5mm screw beneath the light that screwed in to the front of the top yoke. All three were replaced with long stainless Allen bolts with two Nyloc nuts screwed on to the thread and then tightened together before being fitted to the bike. These extended length fasteners made cowl removal and refitting a lot easier. One of the last things to be done on the chassis side was to weld a large diameter washer to the underside of the sidestand foot to increase its footprint, the idea being to prevent the stand sinking in sand or soft ground. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...42_XZwCR-L.jpg Consumables Not wanting mechanical issues to delay or even ruin the trip, the chain, both sprockets, brake pads and wheel bearings were all replaced with new parts. The stock rubber brakes lines were replaced with plastic coated stainless lines with stainless fittings from HEL Ltd. I also replaced the seal that sits behind the front sprocket along with a stainless spacer instead of the stock mild steel part that corrodes and then chews up the up seal, causing the bike to dump its oil with the inevitable consequences, a known DRZ fault… Replacement stainless rear wheel spacers were purchased online and fitted in due course. The matching front wheel spacer was no longer available, so Simon Moore kindly turned two up on his lathe, one for each of Ela’s DRZ’s. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...07_dCduN-M.jpg Another weak point of the DRZ is the brake pad retaining pins that are hard to remove and prone to either rounding out or corroding in place (both if you’re really unlucky). Stainless hex headed versions were purchased from Leisure Trail in Nottingham and fitted when the calipers were overhauled and new pads fitted, money well spent in my opinion. These pad pins designed for the Honda CRM250 which uses the same calipers as the DRZ. The bike came fitted with nearly new Michelin AC10 tyres, which although great for trailriding, were not ideal for the trip due to the limited mileage Ela would get from them; they were replaced with Pirelli MT21’s front and rear along with 4mm thick heavy duty tubes to hopefully limit punctures. I replaced the rear sprocket bolts with heavy duty plated steel items as the ones I’d bought from Talon were too short as they were intended for use with one of their billet hubs. I also used two nuts on each number plastic number plate screw, locking them together to prevent them shaking loose. The stock mirrors are not that great and screw directly in to the clutch lever and front brake perches. Dropping the bike can tear the perch clamps off, rendering the bike unrideable. This potential issue was resolved by buying a set of Double Take mirrors from Adventurespec.com. Basically the mirror stem is connected to the bike by a set of GPS RAM mounts each side, the idea being that in the event of a crash, the mirrors are pushed out of the way on the ball mountings. Fasteners As many as possible of the stock mild steel fasteners were replaced with stainless Allen bolts and Nyloc nuts where safe to do so. Stainless is strong but has a low sheer strength and is not ideal for mounting parts that are subject to high side loads such as brake calipers etc. Plenty of Copperslip was used as despite its low mileage, there were more than a few seized/corroded bolts on the bike, all of which took time and in some cases, brute force and power tools to remove. I also turned up a series of six aluminium top hat shaped spacers that were glued in place in to the rad shrouds, they help spread the load of the fasteners and the glue prevents them being lost if the shrouds are removed for any reason. Electrics Not wanting to overload the bike’s electrics or to complicate things for Ela, I limited the electrical modifications to relocating the fuse holder to beneath the seat for ease of access as the stock location near the battery would have meant stripping the left hand pannier frame from the bike to access it. I fitted a 12v cigarette lighter socket to a one-off steel bracket I’d made, mounted on the right of the headlight and fasted via the top yoke bolts. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...34_GgoSZ-L.jpg Ela bought a Garmin Zumo 220 GPS system that was powered by an internal battery that could be charged up by plugging in to the 12v socket. Having an internal battery meant that when the Zumo was not being charged, the 12v socket could then be used for charging other electronic devices on the move. Heated Grips from Oxford Products were fitted; these later versions are a massive improvement over the primitive items I fitted to Ela’s DR350 a few years ago although the mounting bracket supplied as part of the kit is next to useless. To remedy this, I turned up four aluminium spacers on the lathe to fill the recesses in the Talon ‘bar risers normally occupied by recessed heads of the Allen bolts used here and then mounted an aluminium plate across the riser mounts to which the heated grips switch was stuck on using the supplied adhesive pad. The control box was located beneath the seat with all wiring cable tied to the stock wiring harness. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...18_9iPae-M.jpg We thought that replacing the rear bulb with an LED equivalent would be a good idea, in practice it was a waste of time as all of the LED’s faced rearwards with no light aimed at the reflector, resulting in a small dim glow instead of the high intensity light I’d expected, a full refund was soon obtained... A cheap 12v compressor that plugs in to the 12v socket was stripped of its casing to save space and weight. All accessible electrical connectors were taken apart, cleaned and greased prior to reassembly to limit corrosion etc. The ignition switch bracket was disassembled, flipped through 180 degrees and mounted on the ‘bars using the original handlebar clamp tops that had been rendered surplus by the use of the Talon risers. Crash protection After rough jigsawing to shape, I turned up three round plates of differing sizes from 2.5mm thick sheet aluminium on the lathe and stuck them to the clutch, generator and starter motor covers with black automotive silicon sealant. As DRZ cases are not known for their strength, these will hopefully save them from being holed, similar parts on my KTM 950SE seem to have worked on more than one occasion... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...27_HY8LG-M.jpg Simon Moore then TiG welded an aluminium extension plate I’d made on to the bashplate, to protect the water pump and oil filter cover. A 1” cube of closed cell foam was then “siliconed” in place between the welded on plate and the oil filter cover for additional cushioning and to prevent the plate being pushed inwards in the event of a spill. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...30_qiNEf-M.jpg I was given a sheet of Perspex by Steve of UKGS’er from which a headlight guard was fabricated, held in place by two aluminium brackets and a few stainless Allen bolts and Nylocs. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...34_52K3Q-M.jpg Unabiker rad guards from the US were ordered and fitted, only requiring a minor mod with a die grinder to ensure a good fit. We’d originally ordered some UK made rad guards for the DRZ400E, thinking I could modify them to fit Ela’s 400S. Unfortunately there was no way they’d fit, they were then sold on to Timpo as he had a 400E only to find they didn’t fit his bike either? He thinks they’re intended for the very early 400E which is different to the later E versions and all 400S versions. An aluminium front fender brace was also fitted for protection and to provide a decent support for the Kriega US5. A Kriega Haul Loop was also fitted to the forks in case it was ever required. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...92_dBEfi-L.jpg Engine The valves were checked, with one exhaust and one inlet valve found to be tight by 0.05mm. Once shims of the correct size were fitted and the head reassembled, the spark plug, oil, oil filter and air filter were replaced plus an inline fuel filter was fitted in case Ela ended up buying dirty fuel at any point. The filter was sleeved in a block of closed cell foam to protect it. Although the DEP silencer was significantly lighter than the heavy steel Suzuki item, it was also significantly noisier. To resolve this, a length of 25mm OD stainless tube was cut to length with one end crushed in the 3-jaw chuck on Simon’s lathe to close the end up and hopefully reduce the noise level. Simon then TiG welded it in place, resulting in a quieter bike. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...84_37nFF-M.jpg Spares Spare tubes, levers, selection of fasteners and fuses, brake pads front and rear, spare throttle cables, lubed spare clutch cable with sealed ends cable tied in place for quick renewal. Tools Shortened Buzzetti style tyre levers, chain tool and 24mm spanner/ tyre lever combo from Motion-Pro, spoke key milled from 6mm flat steel bar courtesy of Simon Moore, a selection of spanners, Allen keys and 3/8” drive sockets plus an extension bar. The Motion-Pro spanner/tyre lever came with a hex insert that featured a 3/8” drive tool in lieu of carrying a ratchet or T-bar. Other items in the toolkit include stainless lockwire, emery paper, small Molegrips, various screwdrivers plus Ela’s Leatherman, tow straps and spark plug spanner in addition to small tubs of Copperslip and grease plus a small refillable plastic can of oil for lubing the chain. The Adventure Bike http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...43_RDoE7-M.jpg A very happy adventuress http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...55_Gwtth-L.jpg ... and her personal mechanic http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...42_nFb4v-M.jpg |
Brilliant pics, great mech write up. Fantastic, and looking forward to the rest of the report! :D
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Small world i suppose. I'm still at the farm where we met and still awaiting my new engine from the US. I hope that life is going good in London. It was very nice to meet you.
Chris Sorbi |
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Hope you will get your engine, a new bike or a donkey sorted soon so that you can continue your journey - fingers crossed! Please say hello to Jorge and Facundo (and could you please explain to them how an X-ring chain works? I'm still embarrassed that I couldn't... :blushing:). Here's another photo for you: http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...31_8ybPK-L.jpg |
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Just do it - no one has ever said on their deathbed: "I should have travelled less and spent more time in the office..." |
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The journey begins…
The weeks before departure were quite emotional and that’s not only because I was incredibly excited about the journey.
First there was my unfortunate off on ‘Dark Lane’ (how appropriate…) on the May bank holiday. I can still hear Possu suggesting just a few days earlier that I should take it easy in the run-up to August and maybe refrain from trail riding in the meantime. I also remember getting quite puffed-up about this patronising remark and replying that “I won’t put my life on hold just for this trip!” Famous last words… :rolleyes2: http://possu.smugmug.com/Motorcycles...06_pxJ22-L.jpg Three screws had to be inserted into my navicular bone… My sister came over from Germany to provide moral support. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...40_kVffP-L.jpg Steve was not particularly happy about this set-back which meant that he had to look after a handicapped person and do the majority of the house work and the bike preparation himself. He had intended to train me as much as possible on maintenance of the bike - but have you ever tried to change tyres with only one available limb? http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/stareup.gif Still on crutches I went to the Horizons Unlimited Meeting in June. I am still indebted to Dr JM who abstained from a nice bike ride up to Lumb Farm, gave me a lift in her car instead and even pitched my tent for me – thus enabling me to gather the last tips and tricks for solo travel in foreign continents and survival in the wilderness. http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/kissy2.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Motorcycles...02_jY55C-M.jpg In Ripley I also stocked up on equipment and made the final decision who I would entrust with shipping my bike to the other side of the world. http://possu.smugmug.com/Motorcycles...64_9iJZH-M.jpg At the end of July the plaster came off and I was officially discharged. I was still hobbling about with a Samson boot – but down to one crutch and doing loads of physio – and could finally focus on the important things in life. I had a wonderful send-off on 6th August at The Chequers with friends coming from all over the country – from as far as Benson (400 yards - Strobingred) to the Wirral (180 miles - Timpo). http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...35_hhsWf-M.jpg During the remaining ten days before I set off to Buenos Aires, friends and relatives kept calling, sending lovely messages, commenting on my blog and visiting me in Oxford - it was very humbling and I am very lucky to have such wonderful people in my life. They probably all thought they would never see me again… Bert and his kids drove up all the way from Belgium http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...75_anV8s-M.jpg Emma came from Herefordshire http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...66_Q8V79-M.jpg ... and Forry from (back then) North Wales http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...09_EFZQ4-M.jpg One day Chris JK called me and just asked if I had thought about getting a SPOT messenger (SPOT SATELLITE MESSENGER :: HOME PAGE) that would let my friends and family know that I was ok and still moving. Knowing that Tiffany uses such a device for keeping in touch during her travels, I had briefly contemplated the acquisition but then dropped the idea when I saw the price. :eek: Well, Chris insisted on giving me one as a present and I, my family and friends will be forever grateful for his generosity – we all could sleep better in the months that followed. Chris and his wife Mary http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...13_JZ6hc-M.jpg On 10th August we delivered the bike to James Cargo to be crated and shipped to Argentina. Giles and Steve http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...75_Burai-M.jpg Raring to take off http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...54_5edGn-M.jpg Then I spent a few days with Steve's side of the family in Kent for good wishes and big hugs. I promised that I wouldn't be doing anything (too) silly... The last week was pretty hectic with still a thousand things to do. Dr JM helped me sorting out my medical supplies but didn’t want to be photographed - so it’s just Berin looking nice for the camera here although he didn’t do anything, really… http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/Augie.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...01_3ar7z-M.jpg And then on 17th August I finally followed the DRZ to Buenos Aires! http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/bounce.gif Sharing the last cake with Possu at Gatwick... http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/frown.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...19_GouwL-M.jpg Leaving the British summer behind - ¡hasta luego, Inglaterra! http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...11_6BJhJ-M.jpg There was a three-hour stop-over at Madrid where I was lucky enough to snatch the last sandwich before the Bistro closed. The Duty-free shops were open the whole night though – priorities, priorities... :rolleyes2: Although I had booked a window-seat four months in advance, they gave me a seat right in the middle at the rear of the aircraft on the day - no Madrid by night, no brightly lit Canary Islands, no Amazonian rainforest nor the Iguazú Falls from the air, boohoo! But, crowded as that flight was, I should probably count myself lucky that they took me to South America at all. A brief glimpse out of the crew compartment showed that I hadn't missed a lot anyway: South America from the air... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...08_fFWva-L.jpg Going south, very, very south http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...GPu8k-XL-1.jpg After 13 hours we finally touched ground at Ezeiza International Airport in Buenos Aires. The sky looked similar to the English one but it was a lot warmer! Expecting the equivalent of February in the northern hemisphere in Argentina, I was accordingly dressed and too hot already whilst queuing for immigration. However, it didn't cross my mind for a second to complain... http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/wink.gif Welcome to Buenos Aires... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...63_GBzgJ-L.jpg The journey with the excellent Manuel Tienda León Shuttle Bus and the subsequent transfer to the hotel (5 Argentinean Pesos extra - less than a pound!), gave me a great introduction to the local traffic conditions - even the cars are "filtering" here and "lane-splitting" means that up to five cars/trucks/buses/motorcycles share three lanes between them. I was already looking forward to joining this chaos on my own bike the next day… :rolleyes2: An interesting mixture of architecture can be seen next to the motorway into the city centre. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...52_24cXB-L.jpg I could only hope that the slip roads were sign-posted correctly… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...44_MvnxC-L.jpg Eventually arriving at my hotel in San Telmo, I was looking forward to meeting my friend John “The Bede” Tremayne from the UK who is currently residing in Buenos Aires. Let the sight-seeing begin... |
Great pics and they bring back memories!
A question: In you first post there is a picture labelled Carretera Austral. It shows a set of hairpins. Do you remember if this section was about 45km North of a town called Mañiguales or about 100km North of Coyhaique? It looks like a section we struggled on when we were there as that whole section was being converted to tarmac. It was all loose earth and sand which was a killer after the hard-packed clay and ripio that had covered the Carretera all the way from Chaiten! |
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This section is about 50 km south of Coyhaique going down into the Valle del Rio Ibáñez - you can see the river in the background. The next settlement on the Carretera Austral would be Villa Cerro Castillo where the tarmac ends. The section 100 km north of Coyhaique or 45 north of Mañihuales is probably the pass road over the Cordillera Queulat, which is still quite challenging to ride. From the junction of Ruta 7 and SN 25 (to Puerto Cisnes/Piedra El Gato) the Carretera is almost completely paved now until Coyhaique. There is only a small stretch (22 km) of Ripio left, starting roughly 12 km after the Mirador Lago Las Torres. Did you ride the Carretera Austral till the end? |
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Regrettably no, we did not go to the end. Time for us was running a little short by then. Early on in our trip (the second day) we had ditched our planned route and travelling style. We had started staying for a few days in places we liked and so we did not do big miles everyday. The good side to this was that we got more of a taste of some parts we visited, but the bad is that we had to scrap some destinations. We had heard that the conditions were even more challenging South of Lago Cabrera/Buenos Aires. If I am brutally honest, it was partly the fact that the long 45km section of road works had really worn me out, and I guess I did not fancy another rushed 500km round trip to O'Higgins! Part of me regrets it, but I also know it was supposed to be an amazing trip (and it was) rather than a test of our mettle and endurance! So in that respect I think we made the right choice to head East from Coyhiaque. Our two days travelling the Carretera Austral remain one of the road going highlights of our trip To do more of what we wanted, another 6 weeks would have been ideal, then we would not have felt any need to rush either. Glad you did it and enjoyed it: the pictures do give me very itchy feet!!! |
Fantastic, thanks for sharing this!
Pictures are really wonderful, congratulations!!! |
The sights and delights of Buenos Aires
For all of you who know John 'The Bede' it won't come as a surprise that he is also a fabulous tour guide who is more than happy to share his wealth of local knowledge.
First we went into the city centre to sort out the insurance for my DRZ. John had recommended ATM (Asociación Mutual para Conductores y Asistencia Total de Motovehiculos – Base Sarmiento 930 2º ”A”, Buenos Aires, Tel/Fax: 0810-3456-286, atmotos@oaseatm.com.ar) who provided the legally required third party cover for four months, for all the countries I was going to apart from Peru, all the necessary documentation within 24 hours, a smart little plastic card for my wallet and all that for 200 ARS (Argentina Pesos), roughly £32, which I thought was a great deal, especially as it would be saving me the hassle of organising insurance every time I crossed a border. ATM also offers protection against fire, theft and total loss through accident but that would be more expensive, obviously. With the “To do” list completed, we went to tick the “Must See” boxes of Buenos Aires. Plaza de Mayo – the heart of the city http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...14_3bWVE-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...3_XtT6S-XL.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...35_P4sSu-L.jpg At the eastern end of the square sits La Casa Rosada (The Pink House), the official seat of the executive branch of the government of Argentina and the offices of the president, Cristina Fernandéz de Kirchner. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...24_7LDzK-L.jpg And here’s John doing his best “Evita” impression in front of the very balcony from which the former First Lady Eva Perón once sang Andrew Lloyd Webber’s greatest hits – “Don’t laugh at me, Argentina…” http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/Augie.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...76_KS8HQ-L.jpg It had nothing to do with John's singing but due to the many protests and demonstrations in the Capital Federal, police and water cannons are a common sight on the Plaza de Mayo. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...76_cTwaC-L.jpg After a long “stroll” through the inner city John finally showed mercy, gave my still hurting foot a break and also took care of removing the vacuum in my stomach. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...47_5aLwv-L.jpg Photo courtesy of The Bede, as it was taken with his camera The rest of the day was spent on the bare necessities – I caught up on desperately needed sleep for a few hours and then met John again to savour the culinary delights of the city. A traditional Picada Argentina pleases everyone's taste… http://s3.amazonaws.com/advrider/lickout.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...6_sN38z-XL.jpg ***** The following morning we already met at eight o'clock to free my bike from Customs at the airport. Taking the Subte (Subterráneo – the tube) was an experience in itself: now I have an idea how sardines feel in their can... :eek: The train spit us out at the upper end of the Calle Florida where the sun shines brighter on the rich and beautiful. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...6_msnMv-XL.jpg At Ezeiza International Airport we had quite a few procedures to follow before I was allowed to see my baby again: Applying for a visitor pass, finding the office of the airline to pay the airway bill, being let into the Customs area, starting the transaction in office 2, paying several fees in office 1, proceeding to office 3, back to office 2, etc, etc. John has actually posted an excellent write-up of the process on UKGSer* ::::* For BMW GS Enthusiasts which I would highly recommend to read if you ever wanted to ship your bike to South America – it is now updated with the 2010 figures. The process may sound very tedious but when it transpired that we both could speak Spanish, the officials were instantly warming up, showed an interest in my trip and treated us with great friendliness. It just takes time going through all the steps, especially when there is a lunch break in between. While waiting outside the cargo area, I tried to send my first SPOT message to the loved ones at home – it didn’t work but you can see that I made the effort... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...53_Y6TkY-L.jpg Photo courtesy of The Bede Finally we were allowed to enter the sacred customs grounds – it was a bit like Christmas: http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Buen...79_U84W7-L.jpg Photo courtesy of The Bede The following pictures are all shamelessly nicked from John, as I was too busy packing and getting the bike ready. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...85_T3rws-L.jpg Due to my injury, I hadn’t actually test ridden the bike with all the gear and luggage on. That's why my seating position may seem a bit awkward - which it was, actually… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Buen...75_Dknyh-L.jpg The last stamp http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Buen...73_muZhM-L.jpg And then it was off into the chaotic traffic of Buenos Aires – yippee! http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Buen...81_G2iqn-L.jpg I got back to the hotel in one piece but on the way from the airport I had noticed that the bike was leaking fuel; probably down to the new fuel filter we had fitted and which was not quite the right size. So it was already time for the first roadside repair. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...1_mSXbk-XL.jpg Fortunately, Possu had given me some slightly bigger filters at the last minute and a short while later I had fixed the leak - with my bare hands!http://s3.amazonaws.com/advrider/gdog.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...21_FiMjL-L.jpg Now there is a happy bunny! http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Buen...vWPnK-XL-1.jpg That evening John introduced me to two of his best friends who run a pub which was closed by the magistrate back then for some updating and refurbishing. We had a great time at their etablissement but for obvious reasons I can't provide the photographic evidence... ;) Thank you for all your help, John! Getting everything sorted on my own would have been a lot more complicated. :thumbup1: I still owe him a few drinks - but he didn't let me pay... The next day would take me to Sandra and Javier of Dakar Motos fame. Little did I know that the road to the district of Vicente López was a rather rocky one... . |
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Your Africa trip report looks great - good luck with the planning of your next adventure! :) |
Chez Dakar Motos
With the bike out of customs, the next day was dedicated to sorting the paperwork. Looking for stationery shops and having photocopies made of all the new documents gave me the opportunity to meet more of the helpful inhabitants of San Telmo.
Then it was back to the headquarters of the bike insurance company to receive the policies for the other countries I was going to travel to; not only Argentina but also Uruguay, Brazil, Paraguay, Bolivia and Chile were covered by the same contract. ¡Fantastico! On the way to the office near the Diagonal Norte I came across one of the many demonstrations that happen in the Argentinean capital. Taking photographs is usually frowned upon but John had told me that tourists are exempt from this rule - phew... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...72_GHSkM-L.jpg Buenos Aires is a fascinating mixture of beauty and decay which I personally like very much - here you see colonial architecture… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...5_imtbL-XL.jpg … and there ruins just at the next corner http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...61_NhFs2-L.jpg Parking in the city centre is difficult and not particularly safe, so there are lots of guarded car parks about. I was lucky to have one of these places right on the other side of the road from my hotel. This is Miguel who looked after my bike (and a few other cars, I think...) and who invited me to the first Mate of my trip. Mate is the Argentinean national drink and you should never decline if you are invited to share it. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...91_A9Vem-L.jpg Finally packed and ready to leave downtown for Vicente Lopéz, I entered Sandra and Javier’s address in the GPS - et voila: only 14 minutes to Dakar Motos apparently. Right, on the eight lanes of the Avenida 9 de Julio I already missed the first turning to the left. A local bus driver pulled intimidatingly close, opened the door and helpfully suggested that I should just ride over the traffic island. Mmm, with a fully loaded bike and my foot still weak and hurting, that might not have been a wise move... So I let the GPS recalculate and took the northern loop along the sea front and the Aeroparque, the national airport of Buenos Aires. Of course, it was just around five o'clock and the rush hour in full flow. As mentioned before, even the cars are filtering in this city, so there was no chance of slipping through with my big panniers. Coming to a hold was struggle enough, as I didn't dare to put sudden weight onto my left foot. While waiting in the stationary traffic I suddenly noticed a familiar smell: fuel... Oh no, not again! It didn't help in this situation that I hadn't filled up since releasing the bike from the airport (you are only allowed to leave less than a quarter of fuel in the tank). So I could only hope that I would still make it to Dakar Motos. Whilst crawling along together, many friendly drivers and riders pointed out that I was leaking - but what was I supposed to do? I was on the outer side of the road because I had to turn left soon and after that, stopping on a fast five-lane motorway without any hard shoulder in sight was just not an option. Literally on the last drop and one hour late I finally arrived at Calle Carlos Tejedor 1379 where I received a very warm welcome from Sandra and Javier. They introduced me to the already resident RTW travellers Adrian (from Australia) and Mick (from Denmark) and after a few hours of lively chat I decided to stay not one but two nights at this friendly place. Mick, Sandra and Adrian at Dakar Motos http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...58_rWq8N-L.jpg ***** The local supermercado nearby was open all day every day and sold everything we needed for a hearty breakfast the next morning. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...62_c8H8A-L.jpg This photo I took especially for my beloved Possu who swears by the original... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...3_UxpfT-XL.jpg Life is good at Dakar Motos http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...87_wyykA-L.jpg Breakfast in the sun http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...23_UxKZV-L.jpg The day was spent on bike maintenance and little adjustments. The previous evening Javier had stated that he doesn't work Saturdays, so here he is probably just enjoying himself fiddling with Adrian's KLR 650. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...92_qj6sG-L.jpg To avoid future fuel leaks once and for all, I replaced the old fuel pipe with a new one (which Possu had thoughtfully advised me to buy prior to departure) and fitted another filter from Javier's workshop. This bigger version would certainly be better suited for filtering dirty gasolina sold from rusty oil drums in the more remote areas of South America. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...35_JP7Rg-L.jpg Dakar Motos seems to be a popular meeting place for the local biker community. We were introduced to a wide spectrum of the moteros of Buenos Aires. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...89_4UGtJ-L.jpg Amongst them was Fabrizio who rides a restored 1949 Norton with all the trimmings. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...8_cNty4-XL.jpg He is also a very nice and helpful guy, here siphoning a spare litre out of his tank to enable me to reach the nearest filling station. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...5_sjfVM-XL.jpg Then, as the icing of the cake and to make my bike ready for the South American roads, Javier added his personal signature. Been there, got the sticker... ;) http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...45_fDXLc-L.jpg We really had a brilliant time together and it would have been so easy to stay another day and maybe another one after that - in the company of like-minded motorcyclists and in the comfort of this home-like place so far away from Europe. After all, I had already made the first step and travelled to a different continent; so what was another day which would give me some additional time to build up a bit more courage before venturing into the great unknown? “Don't be such a wuss”, I told myself off, “that's what you have come over here for and four months will be shorter than you think!” Alright, the decision was made and I went for a last dinner with Adrian. Nice guy, really, but you have to watch your olives - we shared a pizza and I dropped one of my olives. In a fraction of a millisecond Adrian's fork swooped down and before I could say "Oi!" it was gone. How we laughed... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...05_yVKYw-L.jpg Outside the pizzeria we found a look-alike of the famous Australian Postie bikes which made Adrian feel a bit like home. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...19_ikvyf-L.jpg ***** On Sunday morning I captured the last impressions of the empty streets of Vicente-Lopéz - Calle San Martin http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...3_rBgcN-XL.jpg Good idea: kill poverty - not the poor... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...00_RrqNF-L.jpg Then I packed the bike, waved goodbye to Adrian and Mick and hit the road... ***** By the way, if you want to know what these great guys are up to you can follow their trips on the following sites: Mick started his RTW trip in his home country Denmark and has been on the road since 2009. He has travelled through Europe and down the west coast of Africa. From Buenos Aires he will ride his VFR down to Patagonia and then up on the Pacific side. ATWJ - MHoey.eu Adrian was from Australia and just embarking on a RTW trip which would have taken him north from Buenos Aires to New York. From there he was going to ship his KLR to London and then head east to the next coast. Adrian's Motorcycle Diaries - Adriankemmis.blogspot.com. Sadly Adrian was killed five weeks later in a road accident in Brazil. He was only 30 years old and such a nice young man – full of enthusiasm, open and eager to learn about the world, just starting to live his dream and having the time of his life. A terrible loss. RIP, my fellow traveller... http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/bncry.gif . |
Into Uruguay
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The Ruta 9 out of Buenos Aires was long and uneventful - but the fact that I had finally hit the road and was riding the Pan-American Highway was excitement enough. Industrial areas changed to wide open Pampa and the traffic ebbed away kilometre by kilometre. I joined the Ruta 12 north near Zarate and crossed the Rio Paraná Delta via two impressive bridges. Autopista Mesopotamica http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...01_UkV5P-L.jpg At Ceibas began the Ruta 14 and I stopped after exactly 100 miles to check the fuel consumption - due to my broken foot I hadn’t test ridden the bike properly and only had a rough idea how long a tank would last me. But hey, just under four litres per 100 kilometres or 72 miles to the gallon (fully loaded on the motorway) was a result I can’t really complain about. The Pampa is mainly flat… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...5_9Qktz-XL.jpg But if you look around you can still find things worth seeing - vintage, beautiful and still in use (I'm referring to the truck, cheeky!) http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...68_J4PSi-L.jpg The GPS indicated a shortcut to Gualeguaychú and I had a quick look at a sandy dirt road. No, I was not ready for trail riding yet and so I continued on the highway until the official Ruta 136 branched off to the east. Over the beautiful Puente Internacional Libertador General San Martin I crossed the Rio Uruguay and arrived at the border between Argentina and Uruguay. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...67_uhpzh-L.jpg If you look closely you can spot the bridge in the background http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...2_ZF5EJ-XL.jpg Rarely have I experienced such an efficient border crossing: although having to pass through four different desks - pre-check and start of the procedure, personal details, vehicle documents, insurance and customs plus temporary import registration - everything was dealt with as quickly and friendly as possible. I think I needed less than 15 minutes and that included chatting about my trip, the bike and the origin of some of the officers’ German surnames such as 'Ehrhardt' and 'Schmidt'. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...21_D7cBH-L.jpg Whilst changing money and talking to Leopoldo, the nice chap in the tourist office straight after the border, I thought it would be quite appropriate for a vegetarian of 30 years to stay in Fray Bentos, the home of the Liebig Extract of Meat... ;) Leopoldo recommended the campsite at the Parador Playa Ubici and off I went to find an idyllic little hostel directly by the river. Hostess Antonela was just about to leave when I arrived but stopped immediately to show me the facilities and the rooms from which I could choose, as I was the only guest this Sunday evening. Well, for the equivalent of £8.00 I decided to leave tent and sleeping bag in the luggage roll. Parador Playa Ubici in Fray Bentos http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...63_FcXN3-L.jpg Antonela carried all my panniers upstairs and made me really feel at home. The travel guide hadn't exaggerated about the warmth, helpfulness and hospitality of the Uruguayan people. After transforming myself into a civilized, nicely smelling human being again, I headed into town for dinner, allegedly just a short stroll away from the hostel. Well, I won't bore you with the details of my odyssey through Fray Bentos but it was at least a three-kilometre walk until I found the excellent Pizzeria 'Los Immigrantes' in the lively town centre. Not a big deal normally but I was still limping! When I finally returned to the Parador after another 3 kilometres my ankle looked like a tennis ball. Maybe I should have splashed out and taken a taxi... :rolleyes: However, I found Fray Bentos a nice place with friendly and helpful people. Although I crossed a few rather un-touristy corners I never felt uncomfortable and my greetings were always returned with a smile. I was looking forward to exploring more of this likeable country the following day. Rio Uruguay by night http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...34_QbA4o-L.jpg |
New Berlin, first trails and the Rio Uruguay
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The next morning I was greeted with this view of the Puente Internacional over the Rio Uruguay http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...52_oDYFg-L.jpg The Pulp Mill on the banks of the river looked slightly less romantic than last night... These factories along the Rio Uruguay have been the cause of ongoing controversy between Uruguay and Argentina, although a series of constructive meetings between the presidents of the two countries have taken place at the end of July. If you are interested in more background information have a look here. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...24_AJjzr-L.jpg During my morning walk I spotted a lot of dead fish lining the shore, which was a rather sobering sight. Officially the fish mortality was caused by the freezing cold earlier that week, so hostess Antonela told me, but she thought it was down to the sewage of the manufactories further up the Rio Negro. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...3_jskQa-XL.jpg Breakfast in the sun http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...77_8dJyF-L.jpg The cat kept me company. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...60_r6Jij-L.jpg After packing up I went for a sight-seeing tour through Fray Bentos to find out where and how far I had been walking the night before and to appreciate the home town of the Liebig Extract of Meat Company - founded by the German organic chemist Baron Justus von Liebig in the 19th century - in daylight. Main Square of Fray Bentos http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...21_oW8XD-L.jpg The former plant of the Liebig Extract of Meat Company, shut down in 1979. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...75_Mysu4-L.jpg Then it was back to the Ruta 3 and heading north. Leopoldo had mentioned the village of Nuevo Berlin the previous day and I couldn't resist to make a detour to this new edition of my hometown by the Rio Uruguay. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...06_6hYiC-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...6_QnGsL-XL.jpg The city map looks slightly different... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...29_kxdmh-L.jpg … and so does the Kurfürstendamm…. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...3_4ov5c-XL.jpg I didn't fancy retracing my tracks and therefore took a dirt road leading roughly towards Paysandú, my next destination. The first attempt ended in a cul-de-sac, but as there was only a horse to ask for directions, I just tried another trail. It was bumpy, rutted and sandy but led me to a tarmac road which joined the Ruta 3 again after a while - voila! Paysandú http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...63_2KHN9-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...70_tJE2k-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...65_mm7DP-L.jpg To be perfectly honest - and I'd like to apologise to my Uruguayan readers - the Ruta 3 was not particularly exciting and when I spotted a sign to a 'Parque Histórico', I happily went on a little excursion to the Meseta de Artigas. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...87_mXseA-L.jpg The road was lovely http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...41_HrHeF-L.jpg Lined by orange groves http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0_qzHjJ-XL.jpg Supposedly it's winter over here... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...4_M6haE-XL.jpg I was even treated to a little trail ride when I entered the historical park. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...5_esTfM-XL.jpg ... where I had a fantastic view over the Rio Uruguay http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...42_8nTA4-L.jpg The bust of General José Gervasio Artigas, the national hero of Uruguay, after whom the site is named. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...1_4WuoH-XL.jpg Still life with DRZ http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...67_pXnL9-L.jpg I was not the only one enjoying the views... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...8_4XNJq-XL.jpg A last look north... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...98_Up729-L.jpg ... then I returned to the Ruta 3 again. The GPS showed a campsite near the Reservoir Salto Grande and so I rode past the Termas del Daymán and the beautiful town of Salto until I arrived at the lakeside. Only then did it dawn on me that the indicated campsite was actually on the Argentinean side of the reservoir (I had downloaded the map software from an Argentinean GPS forum). But I still wanted to stay a night in Uruguay! There were still signs to a campsite on the eastern shore of the reservoir and so I followed a little trail further north into the woods. Nada - nothing. It was getting dark and I still hadn't found a place for the night. Finally I pulled up at the Hotel Horacio Quiroga Spa Termal. “Lo siento, I'm sorry, the signs stand for day-camping only and the nearest campsite is at Termas del Daymán, 30 kilometres south from here,” I was told by the friendly receptionist. Mmm, that's where I just passed through an hour ago and I really don't like going back. “How much is a single room in your hotel? 139? US Dollars? Thanks very much”, - back to the Termas it is then. It was really getting late; against my usual behaviour (I'm German after all!) I broke the speed limit of 75 km/h and still arrived at the Termas del Daymán only after dark. No campsite was to be seen. But there - "Hostal Canela" said a sign, that's where I will stay the night! The land lady was welcoming and very interested in my bike. She helped me carrying all the luggage into my room and made sure I felt at home. For the equivalent of £16.00 I was given a whole apartment to myself. The photos are from the next morning but you get the idea how wonderful the place already appeared at night. Hostal Canela at Termas del Daymán http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...44_Fpjca-L.jpg The Foyer http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...2_FS8kC-XL.jpg My apartment… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...7_B4Fag-XL.jpg And another picture - just to show off a bit... http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/wink.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...3_pGWzN-XL.jpg Of course, when I walked into the centre of the village for dinner I saw the campsite I had been looking for in the dark and a lot more hotels on the other side of the main road... However, I was really happy with the place I was staying at and if you ever find yourself in the area, Hostal Canela can be highly recommended. The following day would take me into Argentina again. |
From Uruguay to Argentina
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The following morning the nice landlady at the Hostal Canela served breakfast in my room - did I mention my fabulous room? http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/wink.gif - with fresh media lunas (half moons - croissants), café con leche and zumo de naranja natural (freshly pressed orange juice) - hmm! http://s3.amazonaws.com/advrider/lickout.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...56_kJEyx-L.jpg I thanked her very much, promised I would recommend the place to everyone I know (done!) and everyone I would meet on the road, and set off towards Argentina. But no, I couldn't leave this lovely country without a Uruguay sticker for my moto! So I stopped at the next filling station in Salto. The guys were really friendly, offered me a sticker of their fuel company but unfortunately they couldn't help me further. But the shopping mall three blocks further down the road would certainly sell the object of desire. When I pulled into the car park, I was immediately approached by a security guard - of course, I had done a U-turn and was going into the wrong direction of a one-way system... No, he just wanted to point out that it would be much safer for me to park in the underground garage. Muchas gracias, Officer, and off I went into the underworld. Again, another security guard came over straight away, reassured me that his colleagues would have a close eye on my DRZ and then he accompanied me through the whole shopping centre on the hunt for a Uruguay sticker. Unfortunately no shop was stocking such a thing. I tried the motorcycle shop across the street, another filling station, the supermercado - but nothing. My security friend was really sorry and sent me into the city centre. We parted shaking hands: suerte y buen viaje - good luck and a safe trip. Great, I wasn't even aware that I had missed the actual centre of Salto the evening before. So a brief sight-seeing tour was on the menu. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...37_XE5JT-L.jpg I stopped at the Oficina de Turismo, the most obvious place you would think, but they didn't have any stickers either - a kiosco would probably be a better bet. So I looked for a parking space for my bike – “Over here, Señora!” and three young men busied themselves lifting and moving lots of motorcycles about that were already stacked in a tight row by the side of the road. But, oh wonder, soon there was space for my fully loaded DRZ. One of the guys, Nelson, offered to accompany me on my quest for a sticker and together we roamed the shops of Salto. Well, I should have come during the World Cup, then I would have been spoilt for choice but now? “Lo siento, no hay”, - sorry, we don't have it. Then, I had almost given up hope; we found a small and pretty unlikely shop that sold stickers of Uruguay - hooray! Nelson was obviously proud of our success and back at the bike I gave him one of my London pens as a little thank you. You know, the ones where a tourist walks over the Tower Bridge when you move it. Nelson was really pleased and again, we shook hands like old friends when I left. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...01_m2WiD-L.jpg Then it was off to the Salto Grande Reservoir and the dam that connects Uruguay and Argentina. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...98_8Te3Z-L.jpg The officials at the border didn't seem to know what they were supposed to do with me and the temporary import of a foreign motorcycle but after half an hour I was on my way again - not without asking this driver if I could take a picture of his peculiar truck. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...48_HRNoJ-L.jpg Back on the Ruta 14 the ride was pretty uneventful. The countryside was still flat, the corrupt police at kilometre 341 (who even have a dedicated thread in the South America Forum here on this site) had taken a day off and waved me through, and so I turned right onto the Ruta 129 towards Monte Caseros searching for more excitement. The road was dead straight as well but now I could feel a strong side wind, which made the riding a bit more 'interesting'. Shortly before I reached the town I noticed a dirt road branching off to the north (which was my ultimate direction). In Monte Caseros the tarmac disappeared and I ended up in front of some military barracks - probably not the best point to stop and look at the map. The road was so curved that I couldn't bring the loaded bike to a safe halt without risking falling over, and therefore I didn't consult the map at that point; otherwise I would have known that I should have searched for the Ruta 47 towards Paso de los Libres... But so I turned back to the gravel road that I had spotted earlier, the Ruta 25. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...36_8gP3N-L.jpg There I had my excitement - ruts, gravel, sand and corrugations... http://s3.amazonaws.com/advrider/rolleyes1.gif But the countryside was nice and everyone greeted each other when meeting on the road, which I liked very much. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...89_ytDs7-L.jpg After 25 kilometres I joined the Ruta 14 again and decided to stay in Paso de los Libres that night. As it would become a habit during this trip, I did a little sight-seeing tour of the town for orientation purposes and for finding a hotel. I asked a nice lady with her tiny daughter on a quad at the traffic lights and she pointed me to the Hotel Alejandro. Mmm, it looked pretty expensive - and so it was indeed: 180 Argentinean Pesos, which is roughly £30. Are there any cheaper hotels around? Yes, said the friendly receptionist, the Hotel Imperial two blocks from here. And he was right, bed & breakfast were only 80 Pesos (£13.30) there and aparcamiento seguro (safe parking) was available as well. Now I have to confess that I rode to the car park without a helmet and on the wrong side of the road (well, the entrance was on the left!) and of course, at that particular moment in time a police car came round the corner. http://s3.amazonaws.com/advrider/rolleyes1.gif Fortunately, they didn't even bother to give me a reproachful look... Showered, shaved and changed, I went searching for an internet café in order to upload photos, write an email to my one and only Possu and catch up with my blog, where I was still stuck in Buenos Aires… It was just before midnight when I left the place, realised that I had forgotten to eat dinner, that the streets were deserted and that I had lost my sense of direction. But I didn't feel uncomfortable at all in this friendly town. At a corner I saw two men standing around and when I approached them asking if they knew where my hotel was, they were very helpful, chatty and pointed me into the right direction. Tired and hungry I got back to the Hotel Imperial, hoping that next morning's breakfast would be plentiful... |
On a mission
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***** In the 16th century, priests of different religious orders set out to evangelize the Americas, bringing Christianity to indigenous communities. The colonial governments and missionaries agreed on the strategy of gathering the often nomadic indigenous populations in larger communities called reductions in order to more effectively govern, tax, and Christianize them. Reductions generally were also construed as an instrument to make the Indians adopt European lifestyles and values, which was not the case in the Jesuit reductions, where the Jesuits allowed the Indians to retain many of their pre-colonial cultural practices. San Ignacio Mini (minor in Guarani to distinguish it from its bigger homonym San Ignacio Guazú - great) was one of the many missions founded in 1632 by the Jesuits near present-day San Ignacio valley, some 60 kilometres south of Posadas, Misiones, Argentina. In the 18th century the mission had a population of around 3000 people, and a rich cultural and handicraft activity, which was commercialized through the nearby Rio Paraná. Nevertheless, after the suppression of the Society of Jesus of 1767, the Jesuits left the mission a year later. The ruins are one of the best preserved among the several built in a territory today belonging to Argentina, Brazil and Paraguay, and one of the most visited due to its accessibility. (Source: Wikipedia, slightly edited) ***** San Ignacio Mini was my destination that day, some 250 miles / 400 kilometres away, but first I had to find my way out of Paso de los Libres. The bigger towns in South America have a sophisticated one-way system, i.e. in one street you can go west and in the next, one block further, you can ride east. The same applies to north and south, with some roads being two-ways thrown in for good measure. This concept helps to avoid congestion, makes it easier for vehicles to stop and for pedestrians to cross but it doesn't necessarily assist the navigation for the foreigner. After several involuntary sight-seeing tours circling around the centre of Paso de los Libres, I finally pulled over and asked an official looking señor in uniform for directions. He sent me a completely different but actually straighter forward way which led me to the Rio Uruguay again, from where I could see the city of Uruguaiana in Brazil on the other side of the river. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...91_6SQRt-L.jpg The Argentinean-Brazilian border post ahead... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...75_PG7uk-L.jpg ... but Brazil would have to wait until the Iguazú Falls - today I wanted to go to the Argentinean province of Misiones. On the Ruta 14 I passed the town of Santo Tomé, another Jesuit reduction http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...58_ycQgE-L.jpg ... and then the notorious Ruta 40, which runs along the Andes through the whole of Argentina from La Quiaca on the border to Bolivia in the north down to the Atlantic near Rio Gallegos in Patagonia. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...16_ZS5Y3-L.jpg Of course, here in Corrientes we were too far east and the Ruta 40 was only a provincial road. The real thing would have to wait until I crossed the Andes from Chile into Argentina again... All over the country you can see richly decorated shrines by the roadside, most of them dedicated to Gauchito Gil, a legendary character of Argentina's popular culture. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...47_xUim2-L.jpg Inside the shrine http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...00_bXotV-L.jpg As John had warned me in advance, the landscape within a radius of 500 miles / 800 km around Buenos Aires is mainly flat Pampa but once I had passed that mark, the countryside became hilly and more colourful. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...16_QpUTy-L.jpg At some point I turned off the main road to have a closer look at the Tierra Colorada – the red earth. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...23_5APNd-L.jpg Near San José I finally entered the province of Misiones and left the Ruta 14, joining the Ruta 105 north towards Posadas. Only 325 kilometres left to the Iguazú Falls... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...87_5bWmg-L.jpg San Ignacio Mini lies 60 kilometres north-east of Posadas on the Ruta 12. I soon found the Campsite ‘La Familia’ and pitched my fabulous tent (a present from John as well as my MSR fuel stove). http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...36_XE9Jo-L.jpg My activities were closely watched by two little kids, Mati and Dante, who were asking lots of questions about my moto, the tent and why I was doing what in that particular way. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...47_6MYeG-L.jpg The two were the sons of Claudia, a Historian, and her husband Matias, an artist who makes jewellery and objects out of natural products such as seeds, potter's clay and semi-precious stones, and sells them to the tourists visiting the Jesuit ruins. The family lives half of the year in the province of Buenos Aires and the other half in a cabaña - a cabin on the campsite in San Ignacio Mini. Some of Matias's work http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...19_JwPCM-L.jpg They invited me to drink Mate with them and I learnt a lot about the Guarani culture, environmentalism in Argentina and the living conditions of the rather underprivileged people in the country. At some point I had to leave for the centre of San Ignacio to get some dinner and visit the internet café. Unfortunately I found the latter before the restaurant and when I had finished all the usual updates (Route-log, SPOT message, photos, emails to the loved ones, etc) I realised that the village had closed down in the meantime and it was going hungry to bed again! http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/11doh.gif At least I got a photo of the Jesuit ruins by night on my way back to the campsite. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...82_BEHm5-L.jpg Tomorrow - at the Iguazú Falls - I would eat a whole piglet on toast, so I promised my growling stomach... . |
A couple of falls…
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The next morning Claudia invited me into their cabaña for a coffee. So I went to one of the little kioscos on the corner that sell (almost) everything to buy bread, butter and cheese for breakfast. We talked a lot about the current economic climate in Argentina, the education system and her career perspectives as an academic with two young children, and then I suddenly realised that I was late for another appointment – Arriving at the campsite the previous evening I had arranged for my clothes to be washed and dried overnight by Carola, a lovely local lady who runs her business 'La Lavanderia Suave' a few blocks away from the main road. She had asked me to be at her place for 9.00 am and when I remembered it was already 9.20. So much for German punctuality… :rolleyes: And right, Carola already waited for me on her doorstep and asked if I could give her a lift into the town centre on my bike, as she was late now due to my delay. :redface: http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...04_gogFe-L.jpg No problem at all, just that the road was slightly curved and muddy and of course, the inevitable happened: Carola didn’t swing her leg over the seat, as I was expecting, but used the footpeg to mount the bike, putting all her weight onto the left-hand side of the DRZ where I had only a still weakened limp to hold the load. Well, after a fruitless attempt to save the situation, my foot gave way, all three of us went over and Carola, not wearing any protective gear, was buried under the bike – oh my God! http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/eekers.gif Fortunately, she was unharmed and just laughing about our stunt - but I wished the ground would open up and swallow me… And my foot hurt like hell again! Anyway, after dusting us off, I pushed the DRZ to the bank, asked Carola’s boys to hold the bike upright while she was getting on and off we went into San Ignacio. You bet that I used all the kerbs and stones I could get hold of every time we stopped on Carola’s round. She was obviously proud to be seen on such a ‘big’ moto and still laughed when we reached her final customer. She even gave me a pair of nice earrings as a token of our new – yet already tested – friendship. Still utterly embarrassed I returned to the campsite, packed my stuff, said goodbye to Claudia and the chicos and hit the road. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...51_fiqBT-L.jpg I have to confess now that - as it was already late, very hot and still 260 kilometres to the Iguazú Falls - I gave the famous Jesuit ruins a miss. Even though it meant that I didn't see Matias again who was already at his stall offering artesania to the visitors of the World Heritage Site. If you want to have a look at some images , please click here – otherwise you will have to go there yourself or wait until I return to Argentina one day… http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/wink.gif Heading north on the Ruta 12 I saw a lot of trucks carrying the main ingredient of the Argentine national drink – Yerba Maté http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...32_aT3Gh-L.jpg Stopping at a filling station near El Dorado, I met the third motorcycle traveller on my trip: Hans from Chile on his 650 V-Strom. He was roaming for four months as well and invited me to visit him in Viña del Mar when I would be passing by in a few weeks’ time. We exchanged tips about accommodation, services and sight-seeing and then headed off into opposite directions. I didn’t meet Hans again, as he was still on the road when I finally came to Chile. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...94_4EjUi-L.jpg Mid afternoon I arrived at Puerto Iguazú and did the usual city-tour for orientation purposes and to find somewhere to stay. The South America Handbook had recommended the campsite 'El Viejo Americano' (the old American) on the road to the waterfalls but I found that the camping fee was no longer US$ 3.00 as stated in the travel guide but a whopping US$ 15.00! http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/eek7.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...66_NJDND-O.jpg However, the facilities were great and in immaculate condition: clean and spacious bathrooms, hot water all day, swimming pool, supermarket, restaurant, internet, tourist information and a safe at the reception, the bus stop right at the front door, and the people working there were all very friendly and helpful. In good spirits and full of excitement that I was going to see one of the most amazing natural wonders in the world the next day, I started to pitch my tent. Oh no, how could that have happened? http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...31_eyB6q-L.jpg In the morning all had been fine still! No problem, I thought, for situations like this I brought the right tools: http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...24_onnzr-L.jpg But for some strange reason, things didn’t work out as they were supposed to – maybe because I had never used ‘Chemical Metal’ before or completely misunderstood the term ‘plastic padding’ or just didn’t get the proportions of the two components right or maybe the temperatures were just too tropical for the chemicals to bond properly. The result looked like this: http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/frown.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...41_4AGXU-L.jpg In the end I had to take drastic measures and smash the piece that was broken off the line, thereby shortening the pole considerably, and bandage the rest with duct tape… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...03_ejXzB-L.jpg Apologies to John for such an abuse of his generous present. Still, the tent was holding up well – if a little asymmetrical – for the rest of the journey. That evening I broke the rules of my vegetarian regiment of 30 years for the first time of the trip: starved after having missed dinner the previous evenings, I went to the campsite’s restaurant and ordered the Menú turistico with all the trimmings. I think the only dish that didn’t have meat in it was the dessert… No photographic evidence though, as I still felt a bit guilty at that point and didn’t want to tell Possu… http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/stareup.gif Despite my cardinal sin the sun set beautifully over the land… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...86_CxFAW-L.jpg ... and full of anticipation I slipped into my sleeping bag - tomorrow I would spend the whole day at the Iguazú Falls... http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/bounce.gif . |
A day at the Iguazú Falls
The famous Falls of the River Iguazú define the border between Argentina and Brazil and can be visited from both countries. Two thirds of the waterfalls lie in Argentine territory where a well developed infrastructure gives access to the majority of the 275 falls.
The previous day I had already ridden to the entrance of the national park to see if I could catch a glimpse of the waterfalls, but the only road available took me to a big gate where I was told that the entrance fee was AR$ 85.00 (at that time approx. £15.00), they would only be open for another hour and I should rather come back in the morning, preferably by public transport, as they couldn’t guarantee the safety of my bike in their car park. I agreed, it would also be much nicer to walk about in civilian clothes than in motorcycle boots and my relatively heavy suit. So after a delicious breakfast in the campsite’s restaurant, I just stepped outside to the bus stop and caught one of the colectivos that run every 30 minutes between Puerto Iguazú and the national park for AR$ 5.00 (£0.90). The park is open daily from 8.00 to 18.00 (8.00 to 19.00 1 Apr to 31 Aug) and the South American Handbook 2010 stated that the entrance fee can be paid either in Argentinean pesos, Brazilian reais or US$. Relying on this information, I had already reduced the amount of Argentinean cash to just a few pesos, as I was leaving Argentina the next day and could pay campsite and food with my credit card. But – when I finally reached the top of the queue, the guy at the ticket counter told me that they would only accept Argentinean pesos – no US Dollars, no plastic, which was all I had. Mmm, what can I do? There was a cash point inside the park and the rangers even let me in. Unfortunately the machine was out of order… Arrrgh, I had made such an effort to get up early and be here at 8.00 but now it meant that I had to go back to either the campsite to change money there or even to Puerto Iguazú to find another ATM. Hang on, didn't I see a MasterCard sign on the door of a souvenir shop? Could I buy something and have some cash back? No problem, señora, but you have to spend at least AR$ 40.00. Mumble, mumble, mumble, alright then. So I bought postcards for AR$ 40.00 (which I had to do anyway at some point…) and received my AR$ 85.00 for the entrance ticket. Phew. In. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Cata...94_VzDWK-L.jpg Due to my little mishap the previous day and all the limping around at speed, my foot had started to hurt again, and so I went into the visitor centre to enquire about the best routes through the park that were accessible for the handicapped. I was expecting some rough directions or scribbling in my map from the friendly advisor but no – he made a phone call and two minutes later a sort of electro mobile stood in front of the building, ready to chauffeur me to the station from which the train leaves for the waterfalls. Not that I really felt that bad but what a superb service! I chatted with my driver about self-inflicted injuries, our beloved hobbies – in his case it was football that had given him a damaged knee – and what a wonderful workplace he had. The ecological forest train took us to the Estación Cataratas first, from where the Upper and the Lower Circuits start, but I wanted to see the largest of the falls, the Garganta del Diablo, the Devil’s Throat, before it got too crowded. From the Garganta station a one-kilometre catwalk leads to the park’s centre piece – you can already spot the spray in the distance. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...36_zYxUT-L.jpg The national park is home to an abundance of wildlife – which can easily be watched from the walk-way http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Cata...6_aKg5u-XL.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Cata...50_N8A8Z-L.jpg Plush-crested jay http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...8_3vSdo-XL.jpg Getting closer… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...04_9DQw9-L.jpg Of course, everyone who was on the train had overtaken me by now – but there it must be: http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...25_TUygv-L.jpg The Devil’s Throat – La Garganta del Diablo! http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...94_c6T9y-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...17_4pQ3w-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...41_KAtGE-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...21_obxDn-L.jpg The mandatory tourist shot… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...69_Bn9HG-L.jpg And then I was just standing there, looking at the overwhelming power and beauty of the waterfalls and the tears were running down my face. How lucky was I to be here and see this wonder of nature with my own eyes… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...5_agWMs-XL.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...81_kxqPL-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...3_W4EeZ-XL.jpg A heron on the way back to the train station. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Cata...5_CAS8m-XL.jpg I have to say that the park’s infrastructure is well developed – each train is used to its full capacity (and they run every 30 minutes), access to the facilities like bathrooms and restaurants is nicely organised and sign-posted, but you also pay for it. Not only the hefty entrance fee, but for some strange reason I had forgotten to take water with me and had to hand over AR$ 12.00 (US$ 3.50) for a half-litre bottle! So if you go to the Iguazú Falls yourself, bring your own supplies… http://s3.amazonaws.com/advrider/rolleyes1.gif After returning to the Estación Cataratas I first walked the Upper Circuit (Circuito Superior) which takes you along the top of the waterfalls. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Cata...99_nBdvc-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...09_gJpHx-L.jpg Just see the tiny people at the bottom to get a sense of the scale. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...22_5fGxM-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...34_Xttyj-L.jpg And the wildlife... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Cata...27_c2sw4-L.jpg The flora isn’t bad either. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Cata...09_KLx3p-L.jpg The butterflies seem to be used to humans around here. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...86_KyFCe-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...37_bbyq2-L.jpg To be continued in the following post - too many pictures... |
Previous instalment continued...
On the way to the Lower Circuit (Circuito Inferior) I came across these little fellows – Coaties:
http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...68_merCR-L.jpg They are not shy… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...72_fAtZS-L.jpg … and for the protection of both visitors and animals, feeding the latter is strictly forbidden (as you can see in the third pictogram). http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...4_HrKQt-XL.jpg Then the stairs went down, down, down… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...95_t3ABY-L.jpg Along more waterfalls... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Cata...78_GahWK-L.jpg From the bottom you can spot the Garganta del Diablo in the distance – and the walk-way on the Brazilian side… http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/eek7.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...76_iSVfZ-L.jpg The crowd had spread out by now and I had the place almost to myself. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...79_kNPAm-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...14_JxyRk-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Cata...2_JyWfN-XL.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Cata...69_TS9xL-L.jpg … and the butterflies, of course. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...01_ieDuE-L.jpg Then I reached the platform that you have seen earlier from the Upper Circuit. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Cata...91_B8kvN-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...7_bzz4a-XL.jpg I carried on to the riverbank and the jetty for the boats that take you to the Isla San Martin, an island that lies right in the middle of the action. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...07_LVcJW-L.jpg Unfortunately and due to the low water level, the recommended tours were suspended for the day but I’m not sure if I had met all the criteria anyway… http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/wink.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Cata...30_Kn3H8-L.jpg It was nearing closing time when I made my way uphill to the train station again. I had been limping about for at least seven kilometres and ten hours that day but the pain was only a small price to pay for this awesome experience. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...09_JzkCx-L.jpg If you ever get the chance to visit the Cataratas del Iguazú then go. If you don’t – well, then you will have to make it happen one day... http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/nod.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Cata...59_TWBU8-L.jpg |
From Argentina to Paraguay through a tiny bit of Brazil
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Before I set off on my epic journey, I didn’t know a great deal about Paraguay - apart from: the country is sparsely populated (6.3 million inhabitants in an area of 406,752 km² / 157,048 sq miles – as a comparison: the UK has 62 million in 243,610 km / 94,060 sq miles), 30-50% of the population live in poverty, and it is more likely that the people you meet speak Guarani than Spanish. West of the capital Asunción towards Bolivia spreads the hot and semi-arid Gran Chaco which is rather remote and potentially dangerous but also home to a number of German-speaking Mennonite communities. Well, I travel to learn, so bring it on. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...63_5k7QZ-L.jpg To be on the safe side, I stock up on vitamins before leaving Argentina by devouring embarrassingly vast quantities of fresh fruit at the breakfast buffet - you never know when you get the next opportunity. Then I enquire about the border controls that lie ahead, as you have to cross a corner of Brazil if you want to go from Puerto Iguazú in Argentina to Paraguay. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...11_WxrHU-L.jpg I am a bit nervous because I don’t speak Portuguese. No se preocupe, señora, don't worry, say the nice people at the campsite, it’s all very straightforward. While packing my stuff on the DRZ, I chat to Javier, gardener, 24 years old and soon father-to-be of a little daughter. Motorbikes are such a great opportunity to start a conversation - wherever you are. I love it. The Argentinean border crossing is busy and efficient: I hand over passport, bike registration and temporary import documents – buen viaje, have a good trip, and through. Of course, I must stop on the bridge over the Rio Iguazú and a nice elderly señor takes pictures of me with one foot/wheel in Argentina and one in Brazil. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...78_ztLGA-L.jpg Welcome to Brazil http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...70_M8TGs-L.jpg At the Brazilian border post I just say that I want to go straight to Paraguay and get a simple transit stamp in my passport – without any further questions or fuss; it’s usual practice here. Shame really, as the rather handsome officer I’m dealing with is an absolute pleasure to look at (hope Possu doesn’t read this too carefully… http://www.ukgser.com/forums/images/smilies/augie.gif). Then I am in Foz do Iguaçu, the 4th largest city in the Paraná region and a rather hectic place. Mmm, there is no time limit on the transit, no one has explicitly told me that I have to go straight and immediately to Paraguay – and I would really like to see the Marco das tres fronteiras, the landmark where the three countries and the rivers Paraná and Iguazú meet. No one is looking, so I quickly turn left and ride down to the Triple Frontier: http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...1_DoAvW-XL.jpg Zoom into Argentina http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...81_46tiG-L.jpg Paraguay http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...73_FCLzo-L.jpg and Brazil http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Braz...17_ZgEsM-L.jpg Then I’m battling my way through the heavy traffic towards the Paraguayan border. Many people try to stop me but they don’t look official enough to get me hesitating. Hundreds of motos are whizzing past, I just follow the herd and then suddenly the lanes split and I find myself in a 20cm wide groove that leads the motorcycles through the border installations. There is no opportunity to stop and ask how this all works, if and where I have to show any documents and so I keep drifting along. We reach the bridge over the Rio Paraná where the two-wheeled and the four-wheeled vehicles meet again and I instantly become a mobile chicane – with my panniers I can’t just filter through and a massive queue of beeping bikes forms behind me. Fortunately the cars are moving a bit forward and I can slip into a gap to let the other motos pass. Phew. Right, are we there yet? This looks like we are already in Ciudad del Este (City of the East) in Paraguay. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Para...59_a9dFo-L.jpg But I surely need an entry stamp in my passport and temporary import papers for the DRZ? Ok, in Germany we have a saying: the police, your friend and helper, and so I head straight for the next officer who’s trying to install some law & order into the traffic chaos. Although busy, he takes the time to welcome me to Paraguay and point me to an inconspicuous white office block on the other side of the road – in the meantime, the local motorcycle taxi drivers will look after my bike and luggage. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...55_uYexJ-L.jpg An impressive female officer governs over the crew in the immigration office; we chat about my trip, she stamps my passport and sends me off – enjoy your stay in Paraguay. What about customs and the temporary import of a foreign motorbike? Not necessary in Paraguay, even though I ask several times because I find it hard to believe. When I come back to the DRZ, there are even more moto taxis and their owners, we chat and laugh and I have to answer many questions about the bike and my journey. Oh, and I need money but as it is Saturday, all the exchanges are closed. No problem, my favourite police officer speaks to a few locals and introduces me to a moneychanger who gives me a very fair rate for my US Dolares. http://www.ukgser.com/forums/images/smilies/thumb2.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...16_qSwJJ-L.jpg But then the culture shock of this giant shopping centre called Ciudad del Este becomes too much - I want to get out of this hectic place and into the countryside as fast as possible. It is hot and again, a lot of people try to stop me and shout their latest offers at me. I’m sure, if I was after cheap electronic goods I could grab some bargains here, however, I only have a small bike with limited luggage space – so which part of no gracias don’t you understand? http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/rolleyes.gif Finally I reach the city limit and join the Ruta 7 which leads to Asunción. The land is plain, grassy and pretty flat. For a long time the only hills around here are the termite mounds along the road. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...55_T7eRA-L.jpg Occasionally I pass a toll booth, but motorcycles are exempt and even have their extra lane to go round the barrier. http://www.ukgser.com/forums/images/smilies/thumb2.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...67_gwVUE-L.jpg After a few hours of uneventful riding, I spot green hills in the distance and decide to turn off the main road, heading south-west towards Villarrica. Immediately the journey gets more interesting when I run into the Paraguayan rush-hour… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...28_rTXuc-L.jpg That’s more like I expected the roads to be… http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/wink.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...76_zcNfS-L.jpg Arriving in Villarrica, I first do my usual sight-seeing tour and look for accommodation. The capital of the Guairá department is pretty big, boasts some beautiful architecture, plenty of parks and a university and is considered to be the second most important city in Paraguay from the cultural point of view. I stop at the Hotel Rowil which I instantly like - not only for the colour scheme… http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/wink.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...05_caRGZ-L.jpg I think there are only two other guests in the house and I get a lovely en-suite room in the attic... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...4_8LJAF-XL.jpg ... with a nice view onto the garden – including breakfast for £9.50. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...75_2hdZW-L.jpg It’s a Saturday night and the whole town is in party mood. Cars are promenading up and down the high street with huge booming stereos in the boot; drivers and passengers are laughing and cheering at the people in the streets. Everyone is friendly and greeting me; I haven’t seen any other gringos here so far. I walk around until midnight, savouring the atmosphere and the balmy air, chatting to the locals - and just enjoy being here in Paraguay. What a charming country; I can't wait to explore more of it! http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...85_YTBVB-L.jpg |
An odyssey and an unexpected history lesson
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The following morning I woke up before 7 o’clock and found that there was no electricity in the hotel – fortunately both my room and the bathroom had windows, so I could at least see whom I was washing. Breakfast was served in the dark and I was very happy to get a hot café con leche. Ronald and Angela from the hotel told me that the power cut had affected the whole town of Villarrica and would take a few hours to be sorted. Well, you can get by without electricity, I suppose… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...86_3iLpk-L.jpg Ronald and Angela helped me carrying the luggage downstairs and waved me goodbye. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Para...70_Y8mV6-L.jpg The Iglesia de Ybaroty, clearly influenced by medieval European architecture with its Romanesque and Gothic elements, looked great in daylight, too. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...56_zvWXX-L.jpg At this point, I should mention that neither my Paraguayan map nor the Argentinean mapping on my GPS were particularly brilliant for this area, but heading to the capital Asunción, there should be a cross-country road via Paraguari instead of having to return to the main, straight and uneventful Ruta 7. I only had to find it. After a pleasant, albeit not an entirely voluntary sight-seeing tour through Villarrica and asking a few locals for directions, I finally found a promising dirt road leading west and out of town. Even the GPS showed a thin line and so I was optimistic that I was on the right track. But the road soon bent too far south and I so turned off to the right at the next opportunity. Alas, the trail became narrower and narrower and eventually a single-track lane. But I still met friendly greeting people and therefore carried on until I arrived at this “bridge” over a little creek: http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...45_zyTKg-L.jpg Maybe I should also mention that deep inside I am a big chicken, really, and together with the fact that I was still unable to put full pressure onto my left foot there was no way I would be crossing those flimsy planks with my fully loaded DRZ. http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/eekers.gif I had already turned the bike round when a young family on a CG Titan 150 arrived. When they found out about my predicament, the driver quickly jumped off, stopped another motorcyclist and, before I could gather enough Spanish to explain why I couldn’t do this myself, they had already pushed the DRZ to the other side. My saviours – muchisimas gracias! http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...20_DAq5x-L.jpg In the meantime, I had caused a bit of a traffic jam… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...22_wuqFv-L.jpg … but also the couple you can see at the back stopped and we started chatting if it was wise for me to carry on, as the next stretch of the “road” would be muy feo (very ugly, literally), a bit tricky apparently… Meanwhile, the young family was waiting ahead to show me the best line and so I just had to go. The trail dipped into a steep riverbed which, although relatively dry at this time of the year, was very muddy and rutted. I almost made it through but then the back wheel got stuck. Oh, the embarrassment… :redface: Immediately the second driver was there pushing the DRZ out of the hole – I think, as a thank you for coming to my aid, I roosted him thoroughly. I felt really sorry but didn’t look back and just hung on to the throttle until I reached the end of the track another mile further down. Phew, I was glad that I hadn’t taken the GS for this trip! After waiting in the next village to apologise to my rescuers, I carried on into what I thought was the right direction but soon met mud, sand and finally a gate to a big ranch – a dead end. On my way back to the village I saw the young family again and they pointed me into the right direction to Itapé, which lay roughly on my route. How friendly and helpful the Paraguayans are! The gravel track soon broadened and became really smooth – they will probably pave it in the very near future… http://s3.amazonaws.com/advrider/rolleyes1.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...23_AsHrK-L.jpg Some “wild life” by the side of the road http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Para...32_KxLYH-L.jpg In Itapé I bought some water at a filling station and started a conversation with the attendant about travelling, life in Itapé and the road ahead. The latter would end at the river Tibucuary soon, she said, but apparently there were ways to get the bike over by balsa, a Spanish term I was not familiar with at that moment. When I arrived at the banks of the river, it became immediately clear what balsa meant – a raft! Oh no, I have had enough excitement already today, and without even taking a photo, I turned round and went looking for another option. There was not a hint of a trail along the river… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...89_r6YHq-L.jpg … but I met a group of Guarani people on the banks and watched them fishing. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...25_NfzKR-L.jpg According to them there was no bridge for miles, so I traced back my steps to the main road and took the diversion to Coronel Martinez which meant road works, sticky mud and sand again. Paddling along, I finally reached the village and turned west. I think it was there when I joined a wide tarmac road – of course, neither on my map nor the GPS – leading to Paraguari. The road was not completely finished, partially unpaved through the villages and it basically followed the railway line, which has probably seen better days since it was built in 1856… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0_NFAcs-XL.jpg The countryside became hillier... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...33_FKR5Q-L.jpg … and I finally reached the town of Paraguari – the cradle of Paraguayan Independence. As it was already a few hours later than originally intended, I didn’t have enough time to appreciate the place where the Paraguayan troops under General Manuel Belgrano defeated the Argentine army in 1811. So I just filled up with fuel and chocolate and continued the 66 km journey to Asunción on the Ruta 1. They really look after their busses here… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...13_WqirM-L.jpg La Muy Noble y Leal Ciudad de Nuestra Señora Santa Maria de la Asunción - the very noble and loyal City of Our Lady Saint Mary of the Assumption - is large, densely developed and busy, as you would expect from a capital where 30% of the Paraguayans live. It’s also not particularly well sign-posted, and so it took me a while until I found the centre and the hotel La Española that had been recommended in the South American Handbook. The receptionist looked very pretty but didn’t show a great deal of concern for the new guest who was limping up and down the stairs - she left it to a tiny old lady to ask me if I needed help with carrying my luggage. Of course, I declined. The young woman also forgot to mention that I had to switch on the boiler before I could have a hot shower… Never mind, including breakfast, secure parking and en-suite bathroom the hotel only cost me PYG 80,000, that was £11.00 at the time – just £0.70 more than the room in Villarrica – and we were right in the centro of the capital! Just two blocks further north lay the Plaza de los Héroes, the heart of the historic centre of Asunción. A big marquee sheltered a free art exhibition and I spent a while enjoying local craftsmanship, sculptures and paintings before heading to the Pantéon Nacional de los Héroes, the National Pantheon of the Heroes. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Para...45_fUy5i-L.jpg The Ministerio de Hacienda – the Treasury - next to the popular Lido Bar http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Para...50_7YczZ-L.jpg Talking of finances, the US$ 40.00 exchanged in Ciudad del Este wouldn’t last forever and I had to stock up on cash before entering the Gran Chaco the next day. Although you can pay for fuel with your credit card, I prefer to have some notes and coins in my pocket out in the wilderness. According to my travel guide there was a Lloyds TSB Bank nearby, and I thought I could save some administration fee using their ATM. Nice plan, but I couldn’t find the branch despite exploring the whole adjacent area… In the end I just approached a passer-by – and I couldn’t have made a better decision. Alberto was a presidential guard off duty, enjoying the mild evening, and he had nothing better to do than giving the foreign tourist a guided tour of the city. During the next two hours I learnt not only that the Lloyds branch had been replaced by HSBC, but also an awful lot about Paraguayan history, a history that is actually very sad and violent. The country has suffered long periods of political instability, dictatorship and devastating wars with its neighbours. During the War of the Triple Alliance against Brazil, Argentina and Uruguay in the 1860’s, more than 80% of the male adult population were killed. Then there was also the Chaco War in the 1930’s with Bolivia over the region of the same name, with a death toll of 56,000 people on the Bolivian side and 36,000 in Paraguay. I was shocked but also very impressed by Alberto’s wealth of knowledge and his balanced depiction of the country’s past and present problems; he showed me the slums as well as the presidential palace, the seat of the Paraguayan government and his place of work. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...7_WbHYf-XL.jpg The Palacio de los López – the Palace of the López, the name of two of the country’s presidents http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...13_MMTFa-L.jpg Nearby a memorial for the eight young victims who were killed during the events of March 1999 following the assassination of vice president Argaña, known as the Marzo Paraguayano today and considered a victory for popular power and a turning point in Paraguay’s famously Byzantine politics at the end of the 1990’s. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...38_tFu9h-L.jpg Alberto asked if I wanted to see more of the city but I was in quite a gloomy mood after hearing of all the bloodshed. Also, I would have loved to take Alberto out for dinner to thank him for his time and the valuable history lesson, but in his casual dress – T-shirt, shorts and flip-flops – they wouldn’t let him into a restaurant, he shrugged. What a shame! So we had to say goodbye but I promised to come to the palace the next morning when he would be on duty. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...3_DqrdP-XL.jpg After wandering around the city centre and finding most of the restaurants out of my price range, I finally ended up in the famous Lido Bar – an institution in Asunción in a great location right on the Plaza de los Héroes with loads of character. You sit around a circular bar, order your food from the menu on the wall and get served from the middle. I must have looked a bit lost when I entered the place, because one of the waitresses, Carmiña, took me straight under her wing, recommended a traditional sopa de pescado, a fish soup, when I asked for a local dish and suggested one of the delicious freshly squeezed juices for dessert. Then she passed by every three minutes to see if I was still enjoying myself and the food. It was great. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...76_oVVG2-L.jpg Fed and watered I then went looking for an internet café to upload more photos, update my blog and write emails to the loved ones at home. The young man at the counter tried out four different computers until he found one that accepted my USB card reader, served me a drink and let me make use of the unusual fast connection until long after midnight. To top it all, he only wanted £0.70 from me and even made me aware that I had given him a 50,000 Guarani note (£7.00) instead of 5,000. Wow, he could have just taken advantage of that stupid tourist and kept the money - but no… Completely swept away, I walked back to the hotel and couldn’t believe just how lucky I was to be here in Paraguay and to meet all those lovely people. Could it get any better? . |
Worlds apart...
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Have you ever had strawberry jelly for breakfast? And six different types of biscuits to go with butter and homemade jam? Freshly squeezed orange juice as well as whole fruits and bananas in all-you-can-drink-or-eat amounts respectively? Well, if this sounds like your cup of café con leche, then stay at the Hotel La Española in Asunción. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...81_rJ8mT-L.jpg A quick note on paying by credit card in South America – businesses may ask for a surcharge for this convenience. As it would have added 10% to my bill, I thought, good that I had gone to the bank the previous evening, and handed over hard cash instead. One of the impressively strong chambermaids and the hotel’s factotum, Gustavo, helped me carrying my luggage to the bike. Whilst packing, I had a nice chat and some Maté with Gustavo who could hardly believe that I was travelling through South America on my own... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Para...67_Md7Wy-L.jpg Then I hurled myself into the thick of the inner-city traffic, making my way to the Plaza de Héroes for a photo of the Pantheon of the Heroes in daylight. While I was standing by the side of the road, several car drivers stopped and asked if they could take a picture of me! There are not a lot of motorcycle travellers coming through Asunción, I suppose… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...70_JDXaB-L.jpg Somehow I seem to be attracted by old trucks… http://www.ukgser.com/forums/images/smilies/duno.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...56_2whKW-L.jpg Finally I got to the president’s palace and pulled over to take a picture. Immediately one of the armed guards appeared and told me to get moving again – no vehicle is allowed to stop in the security zone. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...84_d44PZ-L.jpg Mmm, do I look like the typical terrorist carrying a rocket launcher in her saddle bags? Can I not just take a touristy photo of this beautiful building? Later I learnt that during the 35-year long dictatorship of General Stoessner even looking at the Government Palace was at a time punishable by death. http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/eekers.gif Still, slightly miffed I carried on to the next corner, but then Alberto came over and everything was alright. I thanked him again for his time and friendliness, he kept emphasising how impressed he was by my courage to cross the wild Chaco alone (gulp…) and then we had to say ’adios’. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...1_qRTy3-XL.jpg I still looked at some of the capital’s monuments – the Cabildo de Asunción on the Plaza de la Independencia, which served as parliament, city hall and legislative palace in the past and is now a cultural centre and museum. Not sure about the colour scheme, to be honest... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...69_Yz9vn-L.jpg The Memorial of the Marzo Paraguayano http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...13_2YMk4-L.jpg The slums are right next to the government buildings, so that the public servants don’t forget this part of the Paraguayan people when they decide on laws and policies… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...21_bCwQG-L.jpg Finding out of Asunción was relatively easy following the excellent ConoSur mapping software from the Argentinean GPS forum – just the traffic was a bit crazy. It’s the survival of the fittest here or – in this case – of the biggest vehicle: as soon as I left more than 90 centimetres of a safety distance, cars pushed into my lane, colectivos just pulled away from the bus stop as soon as the last passenger’s feet were off the ground - without looking behind, of course; trucks bullied everyone smaller than themselves by simply ploughing their way through the chaos, etc. It really helps to have four sets of eyes… At the checkpoint before the bridge over the River Paraguay two cops stopped me and started an interrogation. One of them wanted to see my passport, international driving licence and vehicle registration; the other just wanted to know everything about my trip, the bike, the SPOT around my arm and how it all worked. The first officer must have felt a bit left out because he demanded more documents, but then gave up when he couldn’t think of any additional paperwork that a foreign traveller could possibly present. Anyway, I had everything in order – I’m German after all http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/wink.gif – and in the end he relaxed, started to smile and joined in the conversation. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...05_8oniY-L.jpg Then I was on the Ruta 9 – the notorious Trans Chaco. 744 km / 462 miles to go to the Bolivian border. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...27_DLXNV-L.jpg In the next village I stopped at a service station to buy water. They didn’t have any and also advised strongly against drinking tap water, but the team was eager to help me in some way. The only thing I could think of was to ask if I could lube my chain while I was there and immediately they brought me a little can of oil and a rag and lifted the back of the bike (with all the luggage!) to make it easier. In the meantime I answered loads of questions and an elderly gentleman told me about the history of the region, which was populated mainly in the second half of the 19th century during the construction of the Paraguayan railway. The descendants of the many migrant workers from France, England, Germany, Italy and other countries still live in the area and create an interesting multicultural mix. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...32_WykrT-L.jpg The Gran Chaco is a vast plain - sparsely populated, hot and semi-arid. The Ruta 9 stretches to the horizon (of course, it’s cheaper to build a straight road – even the old Romans knew that already…), bushes and palm trees dot the countryside with a few small-holdings and cattle thrown in between. The tarmac was fresh and the riding not particularly exciting, but I was aware that the conditions would change the further I got away from Asunción and so I just enjoyed what I had at the moment. The GPS indicated a filling station near Rio Negro (km 180 of the Ruta 9) but there was no electricity and so the pumps didn’t work. Mmm, I still had fuel for at least another 110 km / 70 miles and the next services were 72 kilometres away, so it should be ok. Bathroom, two bottles of water, a cold empanada – and off I went again. After a while the tarmac became patchy and huge potholes opened up, causing the traffic to meander around them. I had already been wondering why those trucks in the distance approached me on my side of the road… The trip counter showed 200 miles when I turned the fuel tap onto reserve. In Pirahú (km 252) they had petrol but not the 95 octane type I needed! My hopes were set on Pozo Colorado, a further 21 kilometres up the road. Finally! The attendant filled 14.2 litres into my 16 litre-tank… I would still have had my extra can of five litres in the worst case scenario, but there was a lesson to be learnt: when in remote areas in South America – stock up on water and fuel at every opportunity, even if your hydropack and tank are still half full. It was around 5 pm and I could have looked for accommodation in Pozo Colorado, but the South American Handbook had recommended the Rancho Buffalo Bill another 14 kilometres northwest. At km 283 I stopped in front of the hotel and – in anticipation of a nice shower and a good meal - walked towards the gate. After a while, an elderly, toothless señor answered the door, but only to inform me that the supply of both water and electricity had been cut off and that, therefore, the Rancho was closed. I could either return to Pozo Colorado or carry on to Fortin Rio Verde. Well, I really don’t like turning back and so I rode another 40 kilometres onwards. At this rate, I would possibly make it to Bolivia by midnight… http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/rolleyes.gif In Rio Verde I found a service station, a restaurant and a few cottages. From the air the place looks like this: http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...31_NNUSy-L.jpg Is there any accommodation around here? I asked at the guys at the pumps. At first, they shook their heads but then one of them pointed to the other side of the road. Over there, the señora rents out a room some times. Well, let’s hope she does so today… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...18_umspy-L.jpg A Guarani woman opened the door and then called the owner. Yes, she had a bed and if I would like to wait a minute, un ratito, she would prepare the room for me. While Norma was busy, I talked to the fine little lady sitting on the patio. It was actually her house where she was living with her son, his wife and their children; she was 78 years old, with an agile mind but suffering from an illness that made her frail and fall over. Still, she insisted on showing me my room – it was actually a small house - ¡Mi casa! http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...93_fSpiX-L.jpg Inside it was basic but clean. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...7_hwxYd-XL.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...85_8BesZ-L.jpg … and I even had electricity. Otherwise there were no modern amenities such as running water or sanitation on the farm. They had a well but the water had to be heavily chemically treated to make it drinkable. Apart from that, a tanker would come round once a week to provide the village with potable water. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...51_Bqh9h-L.jpg The family didn’t have a shower but Norma heated some water on the wood-stove, handed me a jug, a bowl and soap, and showed me their bathroom where I could have a wash. It seemed like travelling back in time and reminded me of my old student days when I lived in a tiny apartment which only had a toilet but no shower or bath tub. Here, the toilet was actually a pit latrine in the garden. Standing there in the dimly lit room, relishing the peaceful environment and hugely enjoying the whole experience, I contemplated the living conditions here in the Chaco in comparison to the standard I had become accustomed to in Western Europe. The family didn’t possess any of the technical comforts that appear so indispensable to me and still, they all seemed happy and content with their life. I was even more amazed when I learnt that Norma had grown up in Asunción, where she had also met her husband Joel. Only when his father died, his mum asked if he would move back to Rio Verde to look after her and the house. What a contrast it must have been for Norma and the children to swap life in the modern capital with this remote little village. And the family was relatively well off here in Rio Verde: they had a big house, a farm, a shop, the small guest house, Joel had a job in Pozo Colorado and they employed a Guarani couple to help them. Norma, Joel and his mother http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...17_Jvo5j-L.jpg I was wondering how life must be for the indigenous people around here. Joel actually warned me – I should not leave my bike outside and always lock the door to my room. The Guarani were so poor that they would steal anything, he said. Due to our own history in Germany I am very sensitive to pejorative comments like this and any racist tendencies but I didn’t know enough about Paraguayan past and present to argue and also couldn’t talk to the Guarani couple themselves, as they had retired to their room by then. So I just listened, asked more questions and gratefully accepted Joel’s offer to push my bike into my cottage and then, when it turned out to be too wide to fit through the door, into their own house for the night. Norma asked if I wanted to go to the restaurant or share their dinner with them. Of course, I went for the latter option. http://s3.amazonaws.com/advrider/lickout.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...39_kQfSB-L.jpg It had been a long day – battling the traffic in Asunción, the police interrogation, the pot holes and the solitude on the Trans Chaco, the hunt for fuel, the friendliness of the people and then all the things I had learnt about life in Rio Verde – there was a lot to digest and think about. What a multifarious experience this journey through Paraguay was. And it wasn't going to stop there. . |
"Willkommen in Loma Plata"
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Norma seemed really pleased that I was so interested in their life in the Chaco and made me a typical breakfast in the morning: tortilla, Quinoa pancake and a lighter version of yerba maté. It was a lot to eat but I made an effort to finish it all! http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Para...76_gCHqT-L.jpg It’s nice to know where your eggs come from… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00_vBADt-L.jpg I didn’t really want to leave this peaceful place where I had learnt so much, but finally I packed, paid less than £6.00 for accommodation and food, took some more photos and hit the road. This little boy is the son of the Guarani couple but I didn’t understand his name. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...01_VD42y-L.jpg Another little fellow... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...88_BsMy3-L.jpg The Ruta 9 was still long and straight… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Para...92_vYQV4-L.jpg Learning from yesterday’s experience, I stopped at the next filling station - but again, they only had 85-octane fuel and not the 95-variety. The onward journey promised to be interesting… http://s3.amazonaws.com/advrider/rolleyes1.gif The next garage was 100 km further north-west at the junction to Loma Plata. They had 95-octane petrol and while filling up I saw something very intriguing: road signs in German! In the midst of the wild Chaco! http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...23_6mhcP-L.jpg I hadn’t made my mind up how far I wanted to go that day, but there was surely time to follow those inviting signs to Loma Plata. Along the perfectly tarmaced road I saw more traces of German settlements. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...69_taUn5-L.jpg Yes, I had heard about the Mennonite Communities in South America but I didn’t know who they were, why they had settled here in the Chaco and how they were living today. So when I came to Loma Plata, amazed by the German street names, German shops and German tidiness, I stopped at the local museum to learn more about the history of the community. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Para...24_vvWPp-L.jpg That’s Franklin Klassen, the museum’s attendant, reflecting both the Prussian and the Canadian traces in his ancestors' history in his name. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Para...1_rtfvw-XL.jpg When I asked him in Spanish if I could visit the museum, he replied in German and then took a lot of time to tell me the saga of the Mennonite colony. In the 1760's Catherine the Great of Russia invited Mennonites from Prussia to settle north of the Black Sea in exchange for religious freedom and exemption from military service, a precondition founded in their commitment to non-violence. After Russia introduced the general conscription in 1874, many Mennonites migrated to the Americas. The members of the Colonia Menno (of which Loma Plata is the largest town and administrative centre), settled first in Canada until a universal, secular compulsory education was implemented in 1917 that required the use of the English language, which the more conservative Mennonites saw as a threat to the religious basis of their community. 1743 pioneers came from Canada to Paraguay in 1927 and turned the arid Chaco into fertile farmland over the years. Today Loma Plata is home to a thriving agricultural co-operative with an impressive dairy production. The main language of the community is still the German dialect Plautdietsch although everyone speaks Spanish, too. If you are interested, here is some more information about the Mennonites in general and about the Colonia Menno and Loma Plata in particular. The early settlement efforts are well documented. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...95_AYRfm-L.jpg A bible in Gothic print from the first pioneers – the Fall of Man http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...75_6z9r4-L.jpg A children's catechism http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...99_28kGJ-L.jpg Franklin Klassen’s parents both played an important role in the development of the health service in Loma Plata: his father was the first local pharmacist and anaesthetist; his mother worked as a nurse in the only hospital in the area; it was built in 1947 while the other Mennonite colonies Fernheim (Filadelfia) and Neuland were still reluctant to employ professional medical care which they regarded as interference with God’s will. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Para...47_7nufZ-L.jpg Although I found some of the rules and decisions difficult to agree with, I was amazed by the enormous achievements of these pioneers. The conditions under which they survived had been incredibly tough and still, their faith gave them the strength to endure all the hardship and pursue their visions until, after decades, they had transformed the desert into prosperous farmland. This sculpture commemorates their endeavours. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...6_EWC5H-XL.jpg I spoke to a few more people in the garden and then, although I had only ridden 130 km / 80 miles that day, the temptation of staying in a place where I could speak my own language for a while became just too much to resist. Usually I go home only once or twice a year so the prospect of a German environment was a luxury which I don’t enjoy very often. Herr Klassen recommended a reasonably priced hotel and a few minutes later I arrived at the Hotel Mora (Sandstrasse 803, by the way), being welcomed by the Sawatzky-family. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...61_sY5t8-L.jpg They had rooms for PYG 80,000 (£11) or PYG 120,000 (£16.30) but I was absolutely happy with the cheaper ones: en-suite, air-condition, breakfast and all immaculately clean. After fixing the internet connection I was even able to use the PC at the reception and inform Possu that I was still alive. While updating my SPOT message and uploading photos I got talking to Annette, a member of the hotel staff. She had grown up in Frankfurt am Main, met an Argentinean, moved to South America, got married and had two kids with him. Her problems started when they divorced and the father was given custody of their children – possibly because she as a foreigner couldn’t provide the support of an extended family over here. Annette’s ex-husband then moved to Paraguay and she followed to be closer to her children, who she only saw once in a while though. As she was not a member of the Mennonites and had no intention to become one, it was very difficult for Annette to find a decent job and somewhere to live in Loma Plata. Although she was a qualified banking professional as well as a management assistant for the hotel industry, she could count herself lucky to have secured employment as a chamber maid at the Hotel Mora. Her salary was correspondingly low and she wasn’t really integrated in the community. Her parents, although seasoned travellers, had not visited her once in the seven years she had been living in Paraguay. It was quite a sad story but Annette was still radiating the amazing energy of a woman who would never give up and always try to find a way. Annette helped me doing my laundry, even the inner liners of my motorcycle suit which, due to the high temperatures, really needed a wash. Showered and changed I set off to explore the town on foot. When I was about to leave the premises Juan Carlos, another guest of the hotel, tried to engage me in a conversation, but I couldn’t help thinking that he just assumed that I, as a solo-travelling woman, would be most grateful for some male attention. Well, I wasn’t actually and cut him short: sorry, daylight is fading and I still would like to take some photos. On my way into the town centre I met a lot of friendly people, more often greeting with “Hallo” than “Hola”. Although Loma Plata has 5,500 inhabitants, it seemed that everyone knew each other – rather like in a small village. In fact, the place still had a very rural feel to it. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Para...15_GVZKS-L.jpg And then there were those familiar street names everywhere – Hill Road… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Para...96_AKhDN-L.jpg Well-tended gardens http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Para...14_P9FKE-L.jpg … and interesting road signs using a traffic light scheme to clarify the rights-of-way. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...35_dzXdT-L.jpg Although a quarter to six, it was still very hot. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...93_3mhRJ-L.jpg In the supermarket of the Cooperativa Chortitzer, the main social, administrative and commercial institution of the Menno Colony, I indulged in the extensive range of dairy products, fruit and vegetables. Still, having only restricted luggage space, I restrained myself to the basics: biscuits to keep me going during the day, porridge for breakfast should I be stranded overnight (for dinner I had already bought spaghetti and tomato sauce in Buenos Aires), and a cheap toothbrush to clean and lube the DRZ's chain. I love supermarkets in foreign countries – you can learn a lot about the habits and preferences of the locals. Happily wandering around, completely absorbed by the variety of typical goods on the shelves, I didn’t realise that it was already after closing time until a polite shop assistant asked me if I was looking for something in particular… http://www.horizonsunlimited.com/hub...ons/icon11.gif It was still hot outside. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Para...79_QytG9-L.jpg Another testimony to the community’s past http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Para...8_97byT-XL.jpg On the way back to the hotel I met Juan Carlos again: would I have dinner with him? Not right now, I still had things to do on my bike and in my room, and he shouldn’t wait for me. The hotel owners, Mr and Mrs Sawatzky, were sitting in the courtyard and we started talking about their life in Loma Plata. They both had been born in the community; they had never lived anywhere else and didn’t have any inclination to travel – they learnt enough from the visitors coming from all over the world to stay with them. The two were quite doubtful if it was a good idea to travel through the wild Chaco on my own, as the road would become more and more remote and a lot of dubious characters would use the Ruta 9 being up to no good. Oh dear… http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/stareup.gif In the afternoon I had met Fritz, a waiter in a restaurant nearby, and he had suggested that I should come to dine at their place La Delicia, the delight, later. The menu looked good and Fritz showed me a nice table in the air-conditioned interior – it was still too hot to sit outside. Fritz was a descendent of Brazilian Mennonites in the 6th generation, he spoke German, Portuguese, Spanish, English and Guarani, and he was going to be a dad the next day! How could he still be so calm and continue doing his job?! http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/eek7.gif After I had finished a delicious meal, Fritz told me that “my friend” was waiting outside and that my bill had already been paid. No way, that’s out of the question, I’m paying for my food myself, thank you very much! Still, not wanting to be rude, I went into the garden after a while and sat down with Juan Carlos. It’s the custom in Paraguay that visitors are invited for dinner, he said, it doesn’t mean anything, honestly. Yeah, right… :rolleyes Juan Carlos told me about his job; he lived in Asunción, was employed by a big company and had to travel around the country solving issues with the labourers, especially with the indigenous ones. He spoke in a low voice, slurry and very fast, and although I repeatedly asked him to slow down a bit, I didn’t find out what exactly this problem management implied. Still, he as well warned me about the hazards of the Trans Chaco Highway and the people that I might encounter. Fritz helped translating and brought me a homemade Flan, a traditional Spanish custard, for dessert – on the house and to celebrate his impending fatherhood. How lovely. Full-up and tired of the effort to make sense of Juan Carlos’s muttering, who was by then pretty drunk, I got up to return to the hotel. Of course, JC wanted to accompany me, possibly because he needed someone to lean on on the way back. He let me hold his beer while he was relieving himself against a lamp post and then tried to give the conversation a more intimate tone. Of course, I was having none of it, kept waving my wedding ring at him and then thanked my lucky stars that Mr Sawatzky was still sitting in the courtyard. I quickly turned to him to ask further questions about the route to the Bolivian border. Alas! I heard more unsettling stories… In the meantime, Juan Carlos had fortunately retired to his room but I still passed a very uneasy night, envisioning the perils that lay ahead… Had I been naive and bitten off more than I could chew? . |
great trip report and fabuloius photos
what camera did you use on the trip?
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Thanks, DCrider!
I used a Panasonic Lumix DMC-TZ10. The main features were for me:
Or do I buy a compact camera which takes pictures of a lesser quality but can be carried in my pocket (or hang round my neck) all day, goes rather unnoticed and is easily ready for snapshots? Well, I went for the compromise, also because I couldn't fit a tank bag on the Clarke tank. Although images in poor light conditions or by night turned out a bit too grainy, I was very happy with the TZ10 over all. It even survived being thoroughly soaked on Chiloé (due to user error... http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/stareup.gif). . |
A nasty surprise...
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At the break of dawn I finally calmed down. Ok, there might be horrible road conditions, shifting sands, very few settlements, no services at all but smuggler gangs on the notorious Trans-Chaco, but I would just see how far I could make it this day. Maybe it was only from Loma Plata to Mariscal Estigarribia, 112 kilometres ahead, where I could get fuel and supplies and even a hotel if the road turned out to be too bad. Maybe I would meet other travellers on the way and could team up with them for the journey to the Bolivian border. Or maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all… A sumptuous breakfast buffet – Müesli, yoghurt, home-baked bread rolls, real butter, cheese, fresh fruit and delightful café con leche – lifted my spirits further. While I was packing, Mr Sawatzky came along and I told him that I had thought about the risks he had warned me of and that I would probably only ride to Mariscal today and continue to the border tomorrow. Oh, I shouldn’t worry so much, he said, I could at least carry on to La Patria, 116 km after Mariscal; there would be accommodation, too, and then I would have covered a large portion of the route already. I was relieved and really grateful for this reassurance. Annette gave me a big hug when we said goodbye and then I was off. Straight after Loma Plata I ran out of tarmac and rode sandy dirt tracks until I reached Filadelfia, another one of the German-speaking Mennonite communities in this part of Paraguay. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...50_CfBxT-L.jpg Filadelfia, the centre of the Fernheim Colony, looked even neater than Loma Plata. I could have stayed on tarmac from here but that would have involved going back a bit; so I took the shorter, more direct dirt track which was not necessarily faster, as you may have suspected… The road turned out to be sandy and slow but some times I could take my eyes off the track and admire the fascinating Bottle Trees. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...31_Jza8n-L.jpg After joining the paved Trans-Chaco again, I arrived in Mariscal around lunchtime. At the services I bought six litres of water and filled up the bike’s tank, spare canister and fuel bladder (29 litres in total), as there were no filling stations between this last outpost of civilisation and the next town in Bolivia, Villamontes, around 500 kilometres / 310 miles away. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...74_5jbff-L.jpg The attendant looked at me very sceptically when he learnt that I was going to cross the wild Chaco on my own, but when I told him a bit more about my trip, he willingly gave me some valuable advice on the route ahead. He wasn’t aware of the direct road to the west which was charted in my map but he confirmed Mr Sawatzky's view: I should carry on north; there would be another village half-way to the border, La Patria, where I could get fuel and accommodation. So after some chocolate, nice chats with the locals and a longish break to build up my courage, I decided to continue. It was 116 kilometres to La Patria, and every minute I expected a road sign Fin de pavimento, pavement ends. But no, the asfalto continued stretching to the horizon. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Para...47_6Ts9A-L.jpg Up to kilometre stone 550 that was (Mariscal lies between km 526 and 530 counting from Asunción, if I remember correctly). Then the Ruta 9 suddenly became muy feo, very ugly: the deepest potholes I have ever seen in my life opened up in front of me, requiring advanced slalom skills for the next 80 km / 50 miles – until kilometre 620, to be precise, when the tarmac smoothed out again. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...51_RmquC-L.jpg This rough bit cost me one of my precious water bottles and a few litres of fuel: it’s the custom in South America that the attendant fills up your tank rather than you doing it yourself. In Mariscal I hadn’t been quick enough and the otherwise very skilled and knowledgeable señor had ripped off the rubber seal of my Clarke tank lid by accident – to the effect that every time I hit a bump, fuel spilled over the edges. Great, especially as the petrol had to last me at least 500 km / 310 miles… There was very little traffic; I only met three vehicles and a few gauchos with their cattle in two hours, and just after 3pm I already arrived in La Patria. I rode through the village, as I had two options from here: following the Ruta 9 northwest to Boyuibe in Bolivia, a route mainly used by smugglers and the police coming after them, or heading to the border post of Mayor Infante Rivarola going slightly back south again. The Ruta 9 deteriorated straight after the village sign and so I turned round and followed the grey tarmac band, which was neither on my map nor in my GPS. However, the European Union had been here, supporting the improvement of the drinking water supply to the region together with Argentina, Bolivia and Paraguay itself. It’s good to know that my tax money is put to some sensible use for a change. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...56_GmsCA-L.jpg 114 km to the Bolivian border http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...29_vyB3j-L.jpg The only interesting things I saw for the next miles were more impressive bottle trees and the occasional entrance gate of a big ranch with a dirt track trailing off into the distance. The actual farm may lie hundred kilometres away from the road. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...58_b5y5R-L.jpg Oh, and there was, of course, a beautiful DRZ… http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/wink.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...23_eTWjZ-L.jpg I also met two heavily loaded bicycles coming the other way. A French couple, as I learnt later, on a round-the-world trip they had started four years ago. Really impressive, especially considering what a long and boring stretch of road they had ahead of them… After another 110 kilometres I stopped at a barrier where a soldier asked for my passport, international driving licence and V5. Everything was fine and he waved me through. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...5_hXSCj-XL.jpg Two kilometres further on I arrived at the actual border between Paraguay and Bolivia. It was now around 5pm and I was hoping to find accommodation here. I was greeted by a group of five border officials - rather casually dressed, all already a bit tipsy but in good spirits. With an average of three vehicles passing every day, I was a welcome diversion to their daily routine. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...78_zrbY4-L.jpg The customs officer was away but would return any minute, they told me, and so he did. Friendly and efficiently he processed my temporary import documents for the DRZ and sent me on my way. One moment, señor, excuse me, but where is the Paraguayan exit-stamp in my passport? Well, that you get at the immigration office in Mariscal. What? This cannot be true – Mariscal is 230 kilometres before the border! I could not grasp the concept behind of not being able to receive an exit-stamp at the border when actually leaving the country and was absolutely gobsmacked when I stumbled out of the office. What a nasty surprise… My new friends offered me some of their high-proof spirit (which I politely declined) and together we considered the options: I could ride straight back and stay in Mariscal but there was only an hour of daylight left – dismissed. One of them would give me a lift there and back for US$ 120.00 – also dismissed. I could carry on into Bolivia and bribe the border official on the other side. The men local to the area shook their heads: the Bolivian guy was a real hardliner and apparently showed no mercy; they had seen people reduced to tears having been sent back from the Bolivian border post in the village of Ibibobo (70 kilometres further on) to get their exit stamp in Mariscal. Ok, I would be thinking about taking this risk. However, with daylight fading, I had to sleep somewhere and asked if I could pitch my tent behind the barracks. No problem, but the ground was very hard and they had recently shot a caiman in the woods nearby. Mmm, were they pulling my leg? I could sleep with them in their barrack, they had a spare bed. Yeah, right… Then one of them, another Juan Carlos, stepped forward and invited me to stay with him and his wife in a separate hut for free which I gratefully accepted. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...06_PN66B-L.jpg This hut consisted of a bedroom, a bathroom with toilet and running cold water, and an office with desk and chair where I could spread my sleeping bag. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...59_dVDHi-L.jpg Yessime, Juan Carlos’s wife, welcomed me into their home and we immediately started chatting about the life out here in the wilderness amongst all the men, my trip and the destinations she also wanted to see one day. After a while the boys came over and invited us to have dinner with them in the canteen. They served a delicious stew with the meat of an antelope that they had hunted the previous day. Afterwards I was asked into the commander’s office and allowed to use the only computer to write an email to Steve telling him about my whereabouts and that I was well. The officer encouraged me to just try and get over into Bolivia without the exit-stamp – I might have to pay some US$ 20 as a bribe but that would be a lot cheaper and less time-consuming than going back to Mariscal. Well, I thanked him very much and went to sleep over the options. He might be right but then, he had only recently arrived from Asunción and didn’t know the officer on the Bolivian side. Decisions, decisions… What would you have done? http://d26ya5yqg8yyvs.cloudfront.net/ear.gif . |
Inspiration
Hey Pumpy,
Thanx for the pics, they are inspirational. How were those ortlieb saddlebags holding up? I'm planning to buy them to. |
Hello Pumpy i´m inspired to do the same thing, brillhant pics and story, i hope we can share some miles one day, here or in uk dont matter, warm greetings from Brazil!!!!!!! Rodrigo
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Thanks for the great pictures!!
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The Ortlieb panniers held up well, always waterproof, robust and easy to fix: when I laid the bike on its side in Bolivia (at speed... :redface:), one of the fasteners got ripped off. One visit at the cobbler's, a few stitches and the saddlebag looked like new. The Ortlieb's have a plastic shell inside to keep them in shape, make them more rigid and protect the content; on the other hand they don't expand a lot, which could cause a problem if you buy more stuff during your trip. I ended up putting things into my Wolfman tank panniers, as they are more flexible in that regard - they just build higher and as long as you can still fold the rim three times, they will stay waterproof. So you may want to look at the Wolfman saddlebags, too. Good luck with your trip! :thumbup1: |
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If you ever want to come to the UK let me know, there will be a space for you and your bike in our house and we can also show you our favourite places in this beautiful country. :mchappy: |
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Good luck with your own trip - don't forget to visit the Norton Rats in Cuzco to meet likeminded people and get lots of useful advice. And please say hello to John from me - thanks. bier |
Great read so far, looking forward to the rest of it. :thumbup1:
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ortlieb
Hey pumpy,
Thnx for the information and I checked your website. Hopefully I will be riding there next year, I don't have to take any pictures any more because of yours;-) I will be tracking your adventures, safe travelling. Enjoy! |
How not to enter Bolivia
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It was really interesting that the majority of people who replied to my question "what would you have done?" would have gone for the bribe. Personally, I find bribery wrong on so many accounts: corruption has been and still is destroying countries and societies, especially in the developing parts of the world; it undermines the law by exempting the rich from following the rules and it degrades travellers to cash cows who are only appraised for their milking potential. So I had taken a vow before the trip that I would not pay anyone for anything that should be free – such as crossing from one country to another, for instance. Also, I don’t like putting myself into a position where I am at someone’s mercy. The knowledge that my bike, my luggage and all my documents were in order contributed a great deal to my confidence and demeanour when talking to officials at borders, customs or police checks on the road. And even if I had considered bribing the Bolivian border official – he might have asked for more money than I would be willing to pay or sent me back anyway (because he could…); then I would have had to ride the 70 kilometres of horrible dirt track three times plus the 460-kilometre roundtrip to Mariscal and back on top, meaning that I would also lose another day in the process. That was not a risk I wanted to take. So during the night I decided to return to Mariscal to get the required exit stamp. I had enough fuel, could leave the luggage at the border post and, when I started as soon as Juan Carlos began his shift at 6.30am, I would also have enough time after getting back to Mayor Infante Rivarola to carry on to Villamontes, the nearest town in Bolivia. The morning did not start well though: we overslept and were only woken up by Gilberto, Juan Carlos’s replacement from the capital Asunción (the border officials work 15-day shifts at this outpost before they return home to their families). I had a few biscuits and water for breakfast, filled the content of my fuel bladder into my tank and set off just before 9am – two and a half hours later than planned… However, I made good progress, saw the French cyclists again (I wondered where they had slept during the night...) and arrived in Mariscal at a quarter to twelve. Finding the Oficina de Migraciones was not a problem; the official didn’t ask any questions, he only wanted to see my passport and added the desired exit-stamp; done. Stepping out of the building, I ran into a group of small Guarani kids who were waiting for foreigners to beg for money – an embarrassing and at the same time heartbreaking scene. I stocked up on fuel, water and chocolate and made it back to Infante Rivarola by 4pm. The soldiers at the military post already knew me by now and just waved me through. At the border, I quickly packed my luggage, said goodbye to Juan Carlos, Gilberto and the other boys, thanked them very much for their hospitality, gave them the rest of my Paraguayan cash and set off. It was still 120 kilometres to Villamontes and there were only two hours of daylight left. It was getting dark at 6.20pm at that time but a few minutes of riding in the night would not do any harm, I thought. Famous last words… Immediately after crossing the border with Bolivia, the tarmac ended and the road changed to a sandy, stony, corrugated dirt track. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...36_7WUq6-L.jpg Big trucks were coming the other way, driving without lights, creating lots of powder clouds, leaving me blind for a few moments so that I had to stop frequently to let the dust settle. Then I reached a Bolivian military control post where I had to show my passport and bike registration and explain where I was coming from, where I was going to and if I had anything to declare. A few soldiers proudly demonstrated their English skills and tried to engage me into a longer conversation - but the clock was ticking and I had to crack on. After 50 kilometres of struggling with ruts, corrugations and trucks, I reached tarmac and ran into another military post. Two hours to Villamontes, they said – what, for 70 kilometres?! I understood what they meant when, after only 500 meters of asphalt, the road diverted me on to the dirt track again. By now it was getting dark but I was still doing 45 km/h. Then suddenly I hit sand! Screaming but still upright I passed the patch. Through the next dodgy bits I tried different riding techniques and then disaster struck - I lost the front end and laid the bike on its left-hand side. There was no way that I could lift the DRZ without removing all the luggage. But the bike was lying in the middle of the road and I was fearing and hoping at the same time that another truck would come along. After five minutes I heard an engine roaring, so I switched the lights back on and flashed SOS. The truck stopped – but nothing happened. The driver stayed in his cabin and I had to walk towards him and ask if he could help me. He did - without speaking a word though. Only later did it dawn on me that he might have been wary of a trap and equally scared as me. After that incident I took it very easy, even paddling through the sand patches, as I could not afford to drop the bike again - the traffic had died down completely. It was pitch-black by now but I was approaching 70 kilometres and expected the Bolivian border post to appear around the next corner. Nada - nothing. I heard a few dogs barking, hoped again, but still - nothing. From every light reflection in the trees I drew hope but it was only my own headlight illuminating the leaves. Then the engine died. I had switched to reserve only a few miles back but for some strange reason the tank was already empty. In the dark I had to get the tools out and undo all the bolts from my luggage rack to remove the reserve fuel canister. Everything was dusty and caked and hence the can was a very tight fit - maybe also due to the fall earlier. I almost dropped the bike off its side stand during the effort of pulling the container out. Then - where was the funnel? Ah, in the tool tube, its lid also very sandy. After 20 minutes I finally had everything re-assembled (including myself after a short excursion into the bushes) and the trusty DRZ started straight away. During all this time I had not heard a single thing apart from some strange animal sounds. Well, I was down to between 15-20 km/h because I couldn’t see much and there was a lot of sand on the track. But I thought, ok, at some point I will arrive somewhere, so I just keep going. 50 kilometres to Villamontes equals 2.5 to 3.5 hours at that speed and it was 7.45pm. Camping in the wilderness was just not an option with the Rio Pilcomayo nearby, alligators and all the other animals around that the border guys had told me about. Slowly, slowly I made progress, after every corner I expected the border post, with every road sign I was hopeful I would be nearing civilisation - but still nothing... At least the GPS showed that I was on the Ruta 11, the main road between the border and Villamontes... Finally, after ages I spotted a pick-up truck with two men outside by the side of the road. They may be smugglers but more importantly they were humans, thanks God for that! Is it still far to Villamontes? No, just 20 kilometres and there is tarmac around the corner. Phew! I turned round the mentioned corner and yes, there it was - glorious asphalt! After a while, the road was even equipped with cat-eyes and I could accelerate to 45 km/h, as there were still the cattle crossing the road without looking to be wary about. At 9.05pm I rolled into Villamontes, the Promised Land. It was bigger than I had thought but I could not find the hotel I had planned to stay in. So I stopped in front of a restaurant and asked if they could point me to any means of accommodation. I must have looked really knackered and confused, because in the end, a nice young man jumped into his car and guided me to 'El Rancho', the best hotel in town - but I thought I had deserved it. The welcome was great - everyone at the hotel was truly concerned and did everything to make me comfortable, helped me unloading the bike, carried my luggage, said I should not worry that I was so dirty and didn’t have any local currency yet, and they even kept some dinner for me so that I could have a shower first. And the room was just heaven - spacious, clean, good quality furniture, big bathroom with all the trimmings, fantastic. I was so relieved and so shattered that I thought I would treat myself to two nights (even at US$32.00) to relax thoroughly. I also had to maintain the bike after this ride, get some local currency and sort my official entry into Bolivia out. Hopefully there was an immigration office in town and with any luck they wouldn’t ask too many questions… . |
Arequipa
Hi Pumpy. it looks as though they have re-built the bell towers on the cathedral in Arequipa. I arrived there 2 hours before the earthquake, I think it was 2001. It registered 7.5, what an experience that was. The cobbled road moved like waves on the sea, one of the bell towers completely collapsed and the other was hanging on by a thin vertical piece of stone, what a mess it was, but everything thing looke fine now.
I would love to go there again and see the town as it should be before the eartquake. By the way can't wait to read you report, best wishes Mike. |
I love the photos and the write-up. I wanna do that too. Someday i will. I have a dream...
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Arequipa looks fantastic these days, they have done a great job rebuilding the city - I didn't notice any damage in the parts of the town I went. Thanks for your kind words, Ela |
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In search of Ibibobo...
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After a good night's sleep I enjoyed a varied breakfast buffet in the El Rancho’s comedor. Jeidi, a cousin of Yessime, Juan-Carlos’s wife from the Paraguayan border post, who happened to work in the hotel’s kitchen, showed me what was on offer, how the Maté dispenser worked and just very kindly looked after me during my stay. The hotel owners sat down at the next table, asked if I felt better this morning (oh, yes!) and allowed me to wash the bike in their immaculately kept garden. The gardener was called to give me a hand and somehow the lovely man took over and cleaned the DRZ all by himself; I was hardly permitted to get near my baby. As a small gesture of my appreciation I let him ride the bike around the building to the front entrance. When he didn’t turn up at after five minutes, it suddenly dawned on me that I had forgotten to turn the fuel tap on. doh Quickly I limped round the corner and found José checking the bike over for possible faults. Sorry... Then some serious maintenance was called for: after the hardships of the last days I tightened all the nuts and bolts, adjusted and lubed the chain, shortened the luggage straps that had become loose, replaced the lost O-rings on my GPS cradle and fixed other little things – all under the benevolent eyes of the hotel owners who were happy to let me work in the beautiful courtyard of the El Rancho. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00057101-L.jpg Does anybody know what flowers these are? http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0057001-XL.jpg There is no immigration office in Villamontes; I could either go on tarmac to Yacuiba on the border with Argentina further south or return to Ibibobo, which I had missed the previous day. Well, with my passport showing the Bolivian customs' entry at Infante Rivarola from 1st September and the Paraguayan exit stamp from Mariscal on the 2nd, it seemed a safer bet to go back to Ibibobo - I would have some explaining to do how I could suddenly turn up near the Argentinean border – especially as there are only minor dirt tracks and, more importantly, no bridge over the Río Pilcomayo from that direction… And also, I wanted to find out where this elusive Bolivian border post was and where I had gone wrong during the night. With the bike looked after, I then went into town for a cash-point, as I still didn’t have any local currency in my wallet yet. Banco Bisa has reliable ATM’s that don’t charge you an extra fee and give you a maximum of 1,000 Bolivianos, about £93 at the time, which last you a long time in Bolivia. I refilled bike and fuel canister and made my way back to the Bolivian border post, hoping that I had just missed the turning to the tarmac in the dark. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...P1000557-L.jpg But no, look at the sign on the junction where I had emerged onto the paved road the previous night! http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...10005571-L.jpg Obligatory route to Ibibobo - so it was exactly the same dirt track I had to take... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...1000558-XL.jpg … a bit quicker though now due to daylight and carrying no luggage apart from the tank panniers with all my tools and spares. There were even road signs along the track - 13 km to Ibibobo, then 8 km, 3km... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...P1000559-L.jpg Interesting vegetation - http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...1000560-XL.jpg And a shrine – for the solace of the soldiers and something probably more serious than the shape of the bottle tree suggests… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00056401-L.jpg To my great surprise, the dirt track joined the tarmac again and I stood at the very same military check point as the previous evening. I limped down the hill for a second time and showed the officer the entry with my name in the book. When I asked for the actual border post, he pointed to the east – just 500 m further down the road towards Paraguay. ¿Qué? http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/s...50503/eek7.gif Can you imagine, I had passed the building the day before in daylight without recognising it as such! Ibibobo was only 50 kilometres from the border and not 70, as the Paraguayans had told me (or maybe I had understood…). I should really have asked the soldiers at the military control post - but in my hurry to reach my destination before nightfall I had missed the most obvious course of action... doh The Bolivian immigration office was just an adobe hut with goats, piglets and children running around. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...93_XvViZ-L.jpg Have I ever mentioned my fondness of piglets? http://www.ukgser.com/forums/images/smilies/augie.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...P1000561-L.jpg Anyway, the official was apparently having his siesta and harshly asked from the next room “what do you want?”. I did not explain anything, he had not seen from which direction I had arrived, and so I just said that I was coming from Mariscal and would like to enter Bolivia. He did not question the dates in my passport, just stamped everything and tried to persuade me to change some money with him. The ATM in Villamontes would not be working (yeah, right...), it was Friday afternoon and the banks were closed at the weekend and if I had any Paraguayan Guaranís or Dolares? No, I said, using an old travellers’ trick divulged to me by John, only my credit card. And off I went. At the military control they knew me in the meantime, even smiled and we started chatting. So I asked if it was possible to use the closed tarmac road (because it was still under construction), as I had already done the 70 kilometres of dirt track twice and was getting a bit fed up with it. Claro, there were some obstacles but they shouldn't be a problem on a motorbike; the sergeant was using the road on his commute from Villamontes everyday. Gracias, señores, have a nice day! Happily I carried on, enjoying the smooth surface, but soon ran into the first trouble: I took the wrong side along the construction site and ended up in lots of deep, soft soil, where I could only push the bike downhill but not back up onto the road again. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...13_kj9bx-L.jpg Probably not a big deal for many of you, dear readers, but I’m a bit of a chicken and with no one around for miles to help me out should my attempts of climbing back onto the road go wrong, it was reverting to the track. By now the official Ruta 11 didn’t bother me anymore, it seemed like a well-known trail and I started to enjoy the ride, testing different techniques through the sand and trying to identify the spot where I had taken my luggage rail apart the previous night. However, when I got stuck behind a slow-ish truck I took one of the service tracks which are used by the heavy plants to get to and back from the new road. And soon I was on the tarmac again. The next obstacles seemed a piece of cake, as I was in good spirits and full of confidence in my riding skills... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00056501-L.jpg I even got off the bike to check for an escape route before riding to a potential point of no return… http://www.ukgser.com/forums/images/smilies/augie.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...P1000566-L.jpg A few horses, cattle, sheep, goats and the occasional truck was all I encountered, no one stopped and questioned me what I was thinking riding on a closed road under construction; the workers even waved to me. Just visualise the same situation in the UK… http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/smilies/rolleyes.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0056701-XL.jpg I was wondering how the road works would be barred at the other end but suddenly I arrived at the junction with the “obligatory route to Ibibobo” sign and there had been nothing advising the public on a construction site at all! In a fraction of the time I was back in Villamontes. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00056801-L.jpg What an adventure! In future, I will read the travel guide properly, keep an eye out for buildings that could potentially host an immigration office within a 250-kilometre radius from any border and try to avoid night rides at all costs… . |
"Does anybody know what flowers these are?"
Thunbergia grandiflora (in spanish, common name: "tumbergia"). Great ride, great teller, beautiful pictures, congratulations! |
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If they grow in the UK I will plant one in my garden as a souvenir of the wonderful time I had in South America. |
More please
Pumpy,
Very entertaining, educational and enlightening read so far but we want more. There :mchappy:must be more. Please. |
Terrific photos and story.... but no updates here or on her web-site since May..?
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Thank you both very much for your kind words - I was just too busy during the last weeks, sorry...
But here you go! |
Between Rivers
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Before I set off on my big trip, I went to see my parents in Berlin. Together we sat in front of the computer and hovered over my planned route in Google Earth, admiring the features of the application, the landscape in the different countries I was going to visit and the pictures people had added to the various places. After entering Bolivia near Villamontes we got stuck. From there I wanted to go to Tarija but the suggested directions took me back south into Argentina and then onto a massive detour of 913 kilometres (567 miles)! http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...tes-Tarija.jpg This was a journey that should only be 270 kilometres (160 miles) on the more direct road through El Angosto, a gorge shaped by the Río Pilcomayo. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...a-direct-O.jpg Some of the photos of this gorge were subtitled Ruta de la muerte (route of death) and I was hoping my parents wouldn’t notice the resemblance to the Camino de la muerte (the road of death) north-east of La Paz, which I had just promised not to ride under any circumstances… So when I was packing my stuff in Villamontes the next morning, I was a bit apprehensive, to say the least. At breakfast Jeidi told me that her cousin Yessime was planning to come round and see me during the day but the two nights in El Rancho had already cost me £60 (including two three-course meals for dinner, drinks and laundry) and I couldn’t afford to stay any longer, sorry. By the way, did she know the road to Tarija? Oh yes, un camino muy feo – another very ugly (= bad) road… But was it doable? I really didn’t fancy the detour through Argentina, especially as I had been told some horror stories about several Gringos who had been robbed down to their underwear on the way to the border recently. Con mucho cuidado, with great caution I would have to ride, was the unanimous answer to my enquiry about the route to Tarija, regardless how many locals I asked… Wouldn’t I want to visit Santa Cruz instead? The city in north-east of Boliva is the fastest growing in the country, the one with the healthiest economy and providing the highest living standard for its inhabitants. Mmm, maybe another time, unfortunately Santa Cruz didn’t lie exactly on my route. Right, courage, let’s see what El Angosto will throw at us! I said goodbye to the people at the hotel, bought some water for the journey while a nice young security guard in front of the bank looked after my bike, and then said it was adiós to Villamontes. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00057201-L.jpg Smooth tarmac led out of the town; then a checkpoint: where to? Tarija. ¡Mucha suerte!, good luck, said the officer and waved me through. A tidy gravel road took me along the river Pilcomayo. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00057301-L.jpg Gradually the carretera was rising higher http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00057401-L.jpg … until you couldn’t see the water at the bottom of the valley anymore. At this point a one-way traffic regulation had been introduced to cut down on the casualties that the most dangerous bits of the Ruta de la muerte had claimed in previous years. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00057501-L.jpg There were still plenty of stretches where I had to pull in my belly when passing a truck but when the road led out of the gorge things got a bit more relaxed and I could even find some bushes... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00057601-L.jpg Rather randomly there was even tarmac in between – albeit not entirely gravel-free… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00057701-L.jpg Higher and higher the road climbed into the hills http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00057901-L.jpg Opening great views of the countryside http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00057801-L.jpg … and promising pure exploring pleasure http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00058001-L.jpg … if I had only given it some welly when pulling out off the lay-by… But no, the bike started to tumble in the sand and then, lacking the necessary momentum, assumed a horizontal position. http://www.ukgser.com/forums/images/smilies/doh.gif Well, while this was another situation where I was glad that I hadn’t taken the GS to South America, there was still no way that I could lift the DRZ with all the luggage on. I hadn’t seen any vehicle for the last hour and the chances of a pair of helping hands coming along were slim. So I started to unload the bike quickly, as the fall had ripped off the valve cap of my tank lid and fuel was spilling out in considerable quantities. I fixed this issue temporarily by corking the breather with a small pebble but still, the solution was far from perfect and the stuff in my tank panniers smelt of petrol for days after… I was just about to remove said tank panniers when I heard a car approaching. The friendly driver stopped immediately when he saw me waving and helped me lifting the poor DRZ off the ground. He was even going to wait until I was ready to go again to see if bike and rider were ok! I thanked him very much but it would take me a while to reload the luggage. Just when he had disappeared around the corner, another vehicle came along and I made a mental note that the next time I fell over I would just wait a little longer before unpacking… http://www.ukgser.com/forums/images/smilies/augie.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0058101-XL.jpg Anyway, there were still a few kilometres to ride until Tarija and I’d better got going. But when I pressed the starter button nothing happened… The prospect of a bump-start down this twisty gravel road and the subsequent U-turn didn’t seem overly appealing. Please, baby, don’t let me down! Fuel tap on, choke out, throttle on stand-by, starter - after what felt like ages the engine finally sprang to life – and died immediately again. On. Off. On – and gasss! Yippee, off we went! Progress was slow though, as the road was narrow with lots of blind bends, washed-out switch-backs and the abyss on the wrong side most of the time… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00058201-L.jpg Not more than 20 to 30 km/h (15 to 19 miles) were the riding average. On one corner I suddenly heard a loud horn and the next second a bus came round - at a speed three times more than would have been appropriate for the road conditions! The driver saw me at the last moment, braked hard and his rear-end swung onto my side – leaving little more than a metre between him and the steep drop to my right! Luckily I had already come to a standstill and the driver got his vehicle back on track just before touching the DRZ and sending us both down the mountain – phew! After crossing another ridge the drop was on the other side of the road for a change; I could relax a bit and admire the beautiful countryside. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00058301-L.jpg The road is actually in quite a good condition due to the country’s natural gas reserves of which 85% are found in the province of Tarija. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...P1000584-L.jpg Around three in the afternoon I arrived in the village of Supitum which instantly seemed very appealing to me... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00058601-L.jpg I chatted a while to the lady who owns the restaurant in the photo and made friends with her piglets. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00058701-L.jpg Living far away from the bigger settlements, the locals are largely self-sufficient in terms of agricultural produce. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00058801-L.jpg From a distance the landscape is stunningly beautiful but if you have a closer look you will see that fly-tipping is a problem here as well... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0058901-XL.jpg At four o’clock I was still 100 kilometres (60 miles) away from Tarija, following a sluggish truck through the bends without any chance of overtaking, and approaching the only town en-route: Entre Ríos. As I was pretty knackered by then it would have been pointless to carry on, so I was hoping that I could find accommodation here. I asked a young couple by the side of the road and they pointed me into the centre, where I found the Plaza Hotel on the main square (not really surprising…). http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00060201-L.jpg The place was fantastic; the interior nicely decorated, cool and clean. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00060101-L.jpg I could park the bike safely in one of the many courtyards... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0060001-XL.jpg ... and I got a lovely en-suite room with a view for less than half the price of the ‘El Rancho’ in Villamontes http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00059501-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0059401-XL.jpg The only nuisance was the man who you can just see on the bandstand in the middle of the square: for hours he proclaimed his faith and that the end of the world was nigh – until even the patient Bolivians told him unambiguously that enough was enough and that he’d better shut up now. I really don’t get it, what do these self-appointed preachers think they can achieve by shouting out their conviction for hours on end - apart from getting on everybody else’s nerves? http://65.38.186.190/forums/images/s...503/ne_nau.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00059001-L.jpg Anyway, showered and shaved I went for a sight-seeing stroll through this pleasant little town. Entre Ríos has a pretty market area with colourful stalls and evenly colourful vendors selling all kinds of products. There were no other foreigners around, I tried to blend in and avoid the “zoo-effect” as much as possible – so no pictures here, sorry, but taking photographs felt too intrusive to me at the time. Although I passed an internet café first, I acted sensibly that evening and carried on until I found a restaurant. A lovely young woman explained the menu to me. Mmm, I don’t fancy a three-course-meal tonight; could I just have some soup? No problem, with fideo? Sorry, this term is missing from my vocabulary, so the señorita went into the kitchen and came back with a handful of pasta – perfect, and great customer service, too! A few minutes later she brought me a big bottle of Fanta (600 ml), some maize salad and a huge bowl of soup with vegetables, potatoes, meat and fideo; basic, rich and flavoursome. The bill was then written by another waitress and showed the stately sum of 13 Bolivianos, around £1.20. No, no, said the girl who had looked after me originally, the señora had only soup and a soft drink, so it’s just 8 Bolivianos – £0.74. It makes you think – about the value of goods, of services, of smiles, about the cost and the standard of living in the places you are and the country you live your normal life in; it makes you question a whole lot of assumptions, your perceptions and priorities. What a humbling experience and still, this is what travelling is all about for me. Back in the market area, I found a stall selling watches and, having lost a small metal pin on my wrist band, I asked the elderly gentleman if he had a spare by any chance. He rummaged through little plastic containers for quite a while and then told me I should come back in the morning, he would have a look at home and return at 8 am the following day. I thanked him very much and wished him a good night: buenas noches y hasta mañana. Coming out of the internet café, which had a surprisingly speedy connection, I went back to the town square – only to see that I had missed a fiesta! The musicians and dancers were just packing up their instruments and utensils; what a shame! I was spending far too much time online trying to keep my photos, route-log and blog up-to-date instead of enjoying myself with the locals – something else I had to think about. How do other travellers deal with this problem? I have been reading amazingly elaborate ride reports written almost in real time but how do people manage to do this? You ride at least 8 hours, often longer, then you have to find accommodation and food, look after your bike, laundry, personal hygiene; you want to meet people and talk to them, you are tired, and then there are the loved ones at home who are waiting for a sign of life from you – how do you fit this all into one day? http://www.ukgser.com/forums/images/smilies/duno.gif . |
Thanx for the continued writing! I am planning a 9 week ride for 8 of us and looking for little out-of-the-way places like this! We would wind this into our Santa Cruz to Salta week. We LOVE the narrow dirt roads with challenging truck or bus-passing as we all grew up on dirt bikes in the jungles of Peru (as expats)!
Keep writing! We are hanging on every word! :D:D:D |
Thanks for your kind words, Toby.
The route gets even more interesting between Tarija and Villazon (which could be on your way when you go to Salta) crossing the Cordilllera de Sama. And Tarija is a very nice and friendly place to stay. Further details in the next instalment... ahem... :redface: Enjoy your trip! :mchappy: Ela |
It was great to hear your presentation at Ripley and I've only just found your trip described in full here - fantastic report and photo's. Glad everything worked out well and I may steal a few DRZ modification ideas for my old DR250 :)
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Adventures
Hey Pumpy,
I'm still keeping track of your great adventures!!! Keep on going!! Grz from Holland. |
The City of Smiles
http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...o-Tarija-L.jpg
When the Spaniards came to the valley of Taraxa in the 16th century they were delighted to find an almost Mediterranean climate in the area. By the banks of a stream, which they named Nuevo Gualdaquivir after the river in their far away homeland, they founded the city of Villa de San Bernado de la Frontera de Tarija in 1574. The region was perfectly suited for grape and wine production and soon commonly regarded as the Bolivian Andalucía. Tarija is alternatively known as la Cidudad de las flores (the City of Flowers) or la Ciudad de la Sonrisa (the City of Smiles) and has grown massively during the last three decades due to the natural gas development in the department, from 38,000 inhabitants in 1976 to over 214,000 today. To me Tarija seemed to be the perfect stop before climbing up to the harsh Altiplano. But before leaving the friendly town of Entre Ríos where I had spent the night, I still had some business to attend to. The ladies in the hotel did look a bit surprised when I asked for breakfast but then started to prepare some hot chocolate, bread rolls and jam for me. Maybe the normal guests just head for a café on the plaza? Well, I prefer to eat something before I face the outside world, but the next time in Entre Ríos I will do some research on the local breakfast habits. Checkout time in Bolivian hotels is quite generous and as there were only 70ish miles / 112 kilometres between Entre Ríos and Tarija, I was in a position to spend some more time in this friendly place. First I headed for the market area and the watchmaker’s stall again. And right, the lovely Señor had brought all his spare pins from home and within five minutes he had attached the wristband to my watch again. All he wanted for his efforts was one Boliviano – that’s not even 10p... I thanked him profusely, once again humbled by the helpfulness of the Bolivians and the income that people survive on in this part of the world. I really liked Entre Ríos and found it hard to leave – a phenomenon which I would experience rather often in Bolivia. But I wanted to be in Chile for the 18th September to join the bicentenary celebrations of its independence - a rather ambitious if not completely unrealistic schedule as it should turn out… Anyway, I managed to pack my stuff eventually, vacate my excellent room in the Plaza Hotel and hit the road. Straight after the Zona Urbana the Ruta 11 became quite spectacular – it was leading me through wonderful wooded hills… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...78_Pem6n-L.jpg ... over mountain ridges... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...47_LNGed-L.jpg … and along gorgeous gorges http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...96_4BJvn-L.jpg There was a lot of roadwork going on, occasionally the carretera was even paved - but after two kilometres it was back to dirt, gravel and stones. And sometimes you had to pull your belly in... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...7_qGsjJ-XL.jpg Rush hour in the village of Caraletas http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00060701-L.jpg The weather was just fantastic, the temperatures were ideal for riding a bike, and I felt happy to be alive and travelling through such a beautiful country. Some people had not been so lucky - as this shrine reminds the passing motorist. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00060801-L.jpg It wasn’t always easy to find an opportunity for a wee... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...47_43R6H-L.jpg No, still not suitable… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...77_qJYPE-L.jpg Ok, these old stable ruins will do http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...56_v4yAH-L.jpg Approaching “Andalucía” – you would probably have guessed even without me mentioning it at the start of the post, wouldn’t you? http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...91_VkUho-L.jpg The Taraxa Valley http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...75_jePgT-L.jpg Welcome to Tarija! http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00061601-L.jpg On the outskirts of the city I fuelled up and then started my usual orienteering run around the city – buzzing streets, broad boulevards, flowering trees, market stalls, and impressive architecture. The South American Handbook had recommended the Hostal Carmen and I even found it relatively quickly in the Calle Ingavi. The building looked quite welcoming but not so the young receptionist who didn’t seem particularly interested in my business; the price was considerably higher than stated in the travel guide and did not include aparcamiento seguro, the all important safe parking. Well, there is no shortage of accommodation in Tarija and so I carried on. Negotiating the usual one-right, one-left pattern of the urban road system, I passed the Hostal Cristal. It looked slightly out of my price range but it doesn’t hurt to ask. The young lady at reception was exceptionally nice, they had a good single room, at a cheaper rate than the Hostal Carmen, secure parking included, free internet, and when the deal was agreed, she even picked up my dusty luggage to carry it upstairs before I had the chance to stop her. Like many of the higher buildings in South American cities, the hotel had a multiple-use roof terrace... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0062301-XL.jpg ... which offered great views over the city http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00062101-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00061801-L.jpg Arty shot with DRZ http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00062001-L.jpg The church of San Roque in the distance http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0062401-XL.jpg Obviously, there was plenty to explore in Tarija and my first destination was the Catedral San Bernado http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00062501-L.jpg Then on to the heart of the city: the Plaza de Armas http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00062601-L.jpg Within the first hundred yards I had already noticed something very special: despite its size, Tarija still had this friendly intimacy of a small village – everyone looked me in the eyes, we all greeted each other and there were open faces all around. The City of Smiles indeed. Just one street away from the Plaza, in the Calle Ingavi, is the Casa Dorada, Tarija’s House of Culture. The Art Nouveau mansion was built in 1887 by Moisés Navajas Ichazo, a talented descendant of Sephardics Jew from Spain (Navajas) who converted to Catholicism, emigrated to Bolivia, and married a Tarijeña, Esperanza Morales Serrano. Both were very successful business people and, as they didn’t have children, commissioned a couple of impressive buildings which they would be remembered for. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00062801-L.jpg The Calle General Trigo then leads to the Iglesia San Roque – the church of the city’s patron. By pure chance I had managed to arrive in Tarija right at the beginning of a whole week of festivities in honour of Saint Roque. The biggest fiesta in the region starts every year on the first Sunday in September, and the streets were teeming with people. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0063901-XL.jpg Inside the church http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00063301-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0063101-XL.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0063501-XL.jpg Looking down the Calle General Trigo http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00063701-L.jpg At that point of my journey I was still hesitant to eat from street stalls to minimise the risk of food poisoning, so I left the fiesta and looked for a restaurant to have dinner. Fancying a nice steak but finding most of the excellent dining places out of my price range, I settled for the Bolivian fast food chain Pollo Crocan, where a lomito in a bread roll garnished with ham, egg, salad, chips, condiments and a large Fanta, cost me 20 Bolivianos, about £1.90. Who was I to complain? Back at the hotel, the lovely receptionist reminded me that I still had a bike to park for the night. Oops. And now I must confess that I broke another one of my principles - people who have known me for a while will be appalled, so please skip the next sentence: without fetching helmet and proper gear from my room, I set straight off for the designated garage. After I had circled the main square a couple of times, I stopped in front of a posh restaurant, La Taberna Gattopardo, in whose vicinity the car park was allegedly located. One of the waiters had already spotted the obviously lost tourist and came immediately outside and to my aid, pointing me in the right direction. The big courtyard that served as car (and bike) park was attended by two slightly handicapped young men who promised to look after my baby so that I could sleep easy. On my travels through Europe and South America I have often seen disabled people fully integrated in their communities, doing jobs they are capable of and thereby playing an equally important role, whereas in Germany or in the UK we tend to segregate them and keep everyone who does not conform to ‘normality’ in closed institutions. More food for thought… The walk back to the hotel led me over the Plaza de Armas again http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00064501-L.jpg … where a plaque commemorates the founder of the city http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0064601-XL.jpg Lying in my comfortable bed I realized that I had fallen in love with this beautiful city, the Ciudad de la Sonrisa. The prospect of leaving the next day didn’t seem overly appealing – but that was also down to the fact that I was quite apprehensive of climbing the Altiplano and up to an altitude of 4,000 metres above sea level. Also, my next destination was Tupiza, 290 kilometres / 180 miles away, and I didn’t have the slightest idea what the road conditions were like… Oh, by the way and talking of distances, do you remember the 1,000 km detour calculation for the route between Villamontes and Tarija at the start of the last episode? It’s down to lazy map drawing as it turned out: The missing link… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...missing-XL.jpg |
Thank you
Hi Pumpy
Just spent the last couple of hours reading your threads - fantastic! I'm off to learn how to speak Spanish. Thanks again Mike |
Climbing the Altiplano
From Tarija (1,854m / 6,083ft ) to Villazón (3,400m / 11,155ft).
http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...z%C3%B3n-L.jpg The sun shines through the light funnel into my room and wakes me up at 6.30am. While still thinking about turning onto the other side for another five minutes, I suddenly hear music from a marching band outside – of course, there is a week-long fiesta going on in Tarija! Out of bed and onto the roof terrace for breakfast – there is still a lot to see in this city before I head for the solitude of the Altiplano. Salón Bellavista they call their breakfast room… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...30_5Eq9u-L.jpg … which is a pretty accurate name. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...00_MwrpM-L.jpg http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...7_pikvk-XL.jpg The morning sky is deep blue and crisp again http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...45_vCkBZ-L.jpg While I scribble a few notes into my journal, the guy from the other table comes over and introduces himself: he's Uli from Münster in Germany, civil hydraulics engineer, who has been living in South America since 1986. He just bought some land and plans to build a new home for him and his Bolivian partner. Uli gives me loads of valuable information about the area: Tupiza would be doable in one day (well, we’d see about that…); and from there I would easily find the road to Uyuni and its famous Salar. On the Altiplano the people would become more reserved, accommodation would be scarce and the temperatures could drop to minus 15 degrees Celsius at night. http://dgrin.smugmug.com/photos/78326985-Ti.gif Uli also has a deeper insight in the country’s elementary problems, for instance that La Paz is depending entirely on the surrounding glaciers for its drinking water supply, and while the ice diminishes rapidly, the government hasn’t made the necessary provisions yet. Even more fundamental, the majority of the Bolivians live in the barren region of the high plateau, often at poverty level, while the fertile lowlands are rather scarcely populated. Still, if your family, language and culture have been rooted in the same place for centuries it’s certainly difficult to leave your traditional life behind and move away - even if staying doesn’t offer a great perspective and involves considerable hardships. There would be many situations in the coming days where I would wonder how people could survive in the remote villages I was passing through – with no visible agricultural production, very few animals and no obvious trade. Uli hands me his card in case I would get into trouble and needed help – how very kind. On the way to fetch my bike… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0065001-XL.jpg … I pass the Casa Dorada, the Golden House again http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0065101-XL.jpg Should I take the time to explore Tarija’s sights and delights a bit longer? http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0065201-XL.jpg I feel seriously tempted when I pop into the nearby tourist office where a lovely señorita tells me everything about the city, the surrounding villages, the valley with its vineyards and rolling hills, before she showers me with enticing brochures of the region. Still having this ludicrous idea in my head that I would reach Chile in time for its bicentenary independence celebrations, I decide against another day in the Bolivian Andalucía and collect my DRZ from its secure parking space. Back at the hotel, there is Uli loading his 4x4 and still happy to share his wealth of local knowledge with me. Now I am in a position to return the favour and hand him half of my brochures about many places he hadn’t heard of before. After making photocopies of all my new Bolivian documents, I load the bike and leave the City of Smiles. A last look at the beautiful Plaza de Armas - I’ll be back one day, that’s for sure. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00065301-L.jpg On the outskirts of Tarija I eventually find a shop where I can buy water – a task seemingly impossible in the town centre where there are rows of the finest shops, restaurants and historical buildings with no one catering for the bare necessities. The road heading to San Lorenzo is beautifully paved - but this indulgence is cut short when the Ruta 1 to Potosí branches off to the west after two miles. Rough dirt, gravel and corrugations are on the menu. At a police check point I have to explain my wherefrom and whereto, show my passport and documents, pay the stately sum of 3 Bolivianos (£ 0.46), get a stamp and am free to continue my journey. The road climbs up the hills forming the valley of Taraxa and soon I have a great view of Tarija http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00065401-L.jpg … and some not so nice view of littering and fly-tipping. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...42_r98Lj-L.jpg Like in the UK, where this is a common problem as well, I want to shout at these people: “Don’t you love your own country? Are you not proud of its beauty and don’t you want your children to grow up in a healthy environment? Think, for heaven's sake!" http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00065501-L.jpg And breathe… There are more than enough reasons to make you fret the whole day long - but, thank God, it’s not mandatory… ;) http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0065701-XL.jpg A bit higher up I’m granted a last look at the City of Smiles and the Río Gualdaquivir meandering through the Taraxa Valley. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00065801-L.jpg At the summit the GPS shows an elevation of about 4,000 metres (13,120 ft) – this must be higher than I’ve ever been before. In Iscayachi the Ruta 1 turns north towards Potosí. Although this town with its legendary silver mine is on my list of places to see, I will head for Tupiza and the Salar de Uyuni first. As the map doesn’t show a lot of villages along the Ruta 301, I’d rather buy some more water. The owners of the first two shops seem to be having their siesta, the third one doesn’t sell water, only sweet fizzy drinks and booze, but fortunately there is no shortage of suppliers and in the fourth establishment I finally get what I need. Iscayachi lies only 50 kilometres to the west of Tarija but about 1,600 metres (5,250ft) higher at 3,427m (11,243ft), and I notice the difference already: the people are rather taciturn, just as Uli mentioned, and a single woman on a motorbike gets some funny looks. I’m becoming even more self-conscious when I can’t see any facilities to answer the call of nature: there are just too many people, lots of houses built to a surprisingly high standard, big schools and community buildings, miles of cultivated land – but not a single bush! When I reach the Cordillera de Sama, a biological reserve at 3,800 metres (12,467ft) the human settlements recede… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...80_KoLTL-L.jpg … and the only living things I see for a while are these natives http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...80_YCtSV-L.jpg Why did the Llama cross the road? http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...57_G6Too-L.jpg … because it is a rather gregarious animal… :biggrin: http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...42_gSYU5-L.jpg Passing one of the lagoons in the nature reserve http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...18_FKbwo-L.jpg … a popular meeting point for the local cattle http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...27_h9cQ9-L.jpg Otherwise the area is pretty deserted http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...51_NXdJu-L.jpg Leaving the high plateau, the road gets narrower - and as so often, the abyss is on the wrong side… :rolleyes2: http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...00066801-L.jpg Ok, the route may not be as famous or as high as the Camino de la Muerte… http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...85_3NDhu-L.jpg … but if you go over the edge, I would imagine that the result is pretty much the same http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...64_S2Eqf-L.jpg View back up the mountain http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0067301-XL.jpg There may be a lack of safety barriers on Bolivian roads but some times they grant you a lay-by to recover from permanently holding your breath... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...P1000675-L.jpg Although the vastness of the landscape elevates your mind, it can feel quite lonely on the Altiplano. You may meet only seven vehicles the whole day long but you never know in which bend this will happen. After another close encounter with a coach, I feel the constant strain taking its toll and start to count the kilometres to Tupiza down. There lies a village in the valley below, pretty big and with well-built houses, but no road-sign provides the passing tourist with further information. Only when the settlement is behind me a name appears in the corner of my GPS - it was Yunchara. Phew, another 54 kilometres / 34 miles since Iscayachi. The road still heads downhill and I reach a fertile river valley, lots of green and trees but I don't stop any more, it's getting late. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...83_gxVUU-L.jpg The Bolivians are constantly improving their road network and I come across many construction sites. The workers greet me friendly and some even cheer when I pass them - I think that's because they are female, too. An oncoming truck flags me down and the three young guys inside ask if I knew where the road was leading. Yunchara, great - that's the place they want to reach today. Good luck, boys! Then the carretera raises again but this time it is a bit wider and I can finally stop by the side of the road, using the DRZ as a screen from other vehicles - even if you haven't seen another human being for over an hour, you can bet that someone will pass just after you have pulled down your trousers... :rolleyes2: Over some water and a biscuit I consider my options: progress is very slow, it's already gone 16.00 hrs and Tupiza is still 75 kilometres (47 miles) away. The next town is Villazón, a mere 32 kilometres (20 miles) to go, so I may vote for the sensible option and call it a day there. The junction shouldn't be far and right, after the next corner I can see a narrow track winding down into a deep valley - oh dear, this looks quite adventurous... Fortunately two elderly señores are sitting at the crossroads who I approach for advice. Oh, that one, that's just a camino a un pueblito, a path to a small village; the proper junction to Villazón is a bit further up on the Altiplano. One of the gentleman even draws a little map in the dirt. There should be a road-sign but many drivers miss it and carry on to Tupiza. Muchas gracias, señores, this was most helpful. I reach the Altiplano and the road broadens; it's corrugated but fast. The junction is clearly marked with obvious signs and after a while there is even tarmac! Still, the pista is not finished yet and the traffic has to divert to the dirt road again occasionally but the last seven kilometres are beautiful smooth asfalto. Fantastic, I had almost forgotten what a paved surface feels like! http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...14_EsSQe-L.jpg As Villazón lies on the border with Argentina near La Quiaca, where the famous Ruta 40 commences, there is the obligatory police checkpoint before you enter the town. After a little chat the officer waves me on and I can embark on my usual sight-seeing tour. Villazón is chaotic, buzzing with life, people and business, lots of traffic and noise. The sun is low and blinding, and I almost enter a one-way street in the wrong direction - sorry... The South American Handbook recommends the Hotel Center but unfortunately they don't have any vacancies - that's a first on my journey. Hostal Plaza on the other side of the main square should be good as well, says the young man at reception. Ok, but they have run out of single rooms at 70 Bolivianos (£6.50) and can only offer a matrimonio, a double for 110 Bs including breakfast - just over £10.00. It's already 18.00 hrs, it's getting cold and dark and I'm absolutely knackered - go on then, let's splash out! http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0068101-XL.jpg The receptionist helps me carrying the luggage upstairs, then he leads me to the secure parking a few streets away. Gracias. After a hot shower I feel a lot better. Relaxing on the bed I read the chapter about altitude sickness in Jim Duff's Pocket First Aid and Wilderness Medicine again: shall I take precautions or not? Villazón lies at 3,470m (11,155ft), Tupiza at 2,990m (9,810ft) and Uyuni at 4,400m (14,436ft). I have brought some acetazolamide with me but the drug has to be taken 24 hours before ascending to altitude and it can make you feel dizzy - not exactly what you want when conducting a motorcycle over the Andes. I will think about it one more day and possibly start the prophylaxis the next evening in Tupiza. Conveniently, the Hostal Plaza has a restaurant in the basement and although it is completely empty, the waiters busy themselves to make me feel welcome and comfortable. Sopa fideo, noodle soup, and Milanesa, a paper-thin breaded meat fillet, are on the menu. After dinner I head to the next internet café where I find out that the whole of Villazón must depend on one single dial-up connection - it takes forever to upload six photos (out of the 29 shot today...) and after one hour I give up and leave the crowded, noisy place. The neon display on the Plaza Mayor shows the current temperature: 4 degrees Celsius... http://dgrin.smugmug.com/photos/78326985-Ti.gif Off to bed, and quickly! |
Very enjoyable reading and great photo’s, keep posting like this please, it wet’s the appetite for s/a. :thumbup1:
Regards Mez. |
Thanks for the update! Just settling down to a final week of revision for my Latin American studies course and this is just the motivation I need to remind me why I'm doing it!
Steve |
Yay more adventures
Pumpy,
I have been waiting for this to continue. Too much other riding to do I guess? Thanks for the update and the photos. I feel like I am there. I will be one day, in 2014. Ross |
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When are you off to South America then? :mchappy: Quote:
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But hey, I look forward to your report in 2014 then! :thumbup: |
A fantastic trip report, thanks for sharing!
I agree with your comments on the bribing, it takes 2 to make a bribe work and both parties are in the wrong. |
Hi!!! Wow i just saw the pictures
of your adventure and seems awesome!! I would like to get in touch with you, i want to start my own adventure from Guatemala to Costa Rica by the end of the year, and i would like some advice . Tnx |
Travelling broadens the mind...
Thank you very much for your kind feedback, Majo.
I'm happy to answer any of your questions - if I can; my route was different to yours and I haven't visited Central America at all. Let me know. :) --------------------------- Not sure if anyone else still wants to hear about my trip but I've written another instalment - here it goes: http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...20Tupiza-L.png In the small hours of the night I wake up again because it's so freezing cold in my room. Lesson number one: if you make the effort to carry a warm sleeping bag on your bike, you are actually allowed to use it even if you are staying in a hotel room. At the very least have the silk inner liner to hand before you go to bed... http://www.ukgser.com/forums/images/smilies/doh.gif I stare into the darkness and wait for symptoms of altitude sickness to manifest themselves. After all, Villazón sits at 3,400m / 11,155ft above sea level. Maybe I am a bit paranoid about this but one of the problems with travelling on your own is that no one tells you when you start to behave weirdly... Breakfast is served at 7.00 downstairs at smallish tables among a lot of big guys who seem to be mainly truck drivers - we are in a busy border town after all. Despite the sceptical glances from every side, I enjoy my frugal meal consisting of a bread roll with butter and jam and black tea while trying to translate the Arabic proverb on the wall. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0680_01-XL.jpg I think it goes like this: Don't say everything you know, don't do everything you can. Don't believe everything you hear, don't spend everything you have. Because: He who says everything he knows, He who does everything he can, He who believes everything he hears, He who spends everything he has, Often Says what he shouldn't say, does what he shouldn't do, judges what he doesn't see, spends what he cannot afford. I'm sure there are a number of lessons that can be learnt from these pearls of Arabic wisdom. After packing my stuff, I head for the gated courtyard where my baby has spent the night, and arrive at 9.00 on the dot as agreed the evening before. A young man opens the gate but there is a big 4x4 blocking the entrance. No worries, the owner will also collect his vehicle at 9.00 hrs. 9:20 hrs and nothing has happened. I return to the hotel. What is this guy thinking? I ask for his whereabouts at the reception: Se ha salido - he's gone out. Great. Maybe I've missed him on the way, so I go back the two blocks to the parking site. The gate is now open but the 4x4 is still sitting there. I try not to get worked up about the delay, ask the young man if he has some old rags and start to clean my bike - mumbling all the Spanish swearwords I can remember under my breath... 10.00 hrs and no driver in sight... Once more I return to the Hostal Plaza, try to make use of the time by writing my diary but at some point I am so annoyed that I ask the receptionist if he knows of a locksmith who can help me open the car so that I can drive it out of the way. Silly, I know, and wasn't one of the objectives of this trip to practice a bit of stoicism and not getting stressed so easily? :rolleyes: It's no big deal, really, it’s only 100 km / 59 miles to my next destination Tupiza, and there is nothing the receptionist or the young man at the parking place can do (well, the latter shouldn't have let the guy park in a way that was blocking everybody else's exit route, inconsiderate hijo de p*ta). And breathe... Finally the receptionist reaches the driver on his mobile: the car should be gone by the time the fuming gringa has made her way to the parking site for the third time. I relax immediately and feel quite embarrassed now that I have let my anger take the better of me - and thus made everyone around me pretty uncomfortable. That's a lesson that will still take some learning, I suppose... With the obstacle out of the way, my mind is open again for the sights and delights of Villazón - the slightly moralistic street art http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0678_01-XL.jpg ... and the urban wildlife... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0679_01-XL.jpg The young man from the parking courtyard meets me halfway down the road to tell me the good news, we're both relieved and laugh; I collect my baby and thank him very much for all his help. Quickly I lube my chain, load the bike and set off. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...681_01-XXL.jpg After a nice chat with the female attendant of the filling station on the outskirts of town, I reach the border control-cum-tollbooth again, explain that I was just staying overnight in Villazón but had no intention of leaving lovely Bolivia already, pay my 3 Bolivianos (under 30p) and enjoy the new smooth asfalto. Gliding through the beautiful panorama of the Altiplano, it slowly dawns on me that my water bladder is almost empty. How stupid! Haven't I learnt the lesson yet to check my water supply every morning and stock up while I'm still within a human settlement? doh Oh well, only 65 kilometres / 40 miles to Tupiza left - I will probably survive. Shortly afterwards I pass yesterday's junction where the road branches off to Tarija in the east and the Ruta 14 carries on to Tupiza in the northwest. Again, all directions are clearly sign-posted and I'm a bit puzzled how anyone could miss these obvious crossroads unless seriously intoxicated... :confused1: The tarmac has disappeared by now but the Ruta 14 consists of nicely hard-packed, fast dirt. Blue sky, glorious sunshine, clean and fresh air, the absorbing solitude of a vast and seemingly empty landscape - I feel the morning's tension dissolve into the thin air and admire the mountain tops in the distance. Big mistake. All of a sudden the handlebars are out of control, the bike leans left, right, left, right and down in a matter of split seconds and I find myself in a heap of deep gravel, getting a final kick in the back from my own steed... God, I'm shaken - never take your eyes off the road, as the surface can change in an instant, is the fifth lesson today. http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0682_01-XL.jpg Fuel is dripping out of the tank, the GPS has a deep scar, there may be more things broken but I am fine, I think. Phew, sit down at the roadside, helmet and gloves off, take a photo, calm down, drink some water - damn, I really have nothing left, and if there is serious damage to the bike, I'm pretty scr*wed. That's the difference between important and vital lessons, dear reader... http://www.ukgser.com/forums/images/smilies/rob.gif A bus approaches from the north; I wave him down and a group of young men descends. They ask what happened and if I hurt, they help me lifting the bike, and one of them starts talking to me in English. That's not necessary, really, but somehow I feel strangely comforted by hearing the language of my adopted home country: Thank you for speaking English, señor. After my saviours have left I still rest a bit longer and assess the damage: mirror, GPS cradle and screen have scratches, the handlebar units are slightly twisted, the straps of my soft panniers are torn off - but I am ok, thank God and the Hi-Art Halvarssons suit for that! It may make my bum look big - but far more important, it just saved it! If that's not worth another lesson... http://ukgser.com/forums/images/smilies/biggrin.gif Cautiously I continue the journey - staying in the harder ruts made by previous vehicles and slowing right down at every dip and bump. From time to time I find a stretch of tarmac where the roadwork is already completed but soon enough there's a sign again: Fin de pavimento http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...1000683-XL.jpg ... and it's back onto the dirt track again http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...1000684-XL.jpg At least there is now some vegetation, so I can go into the bushes... http://www.ukgser.com/forums/images/smilies/augie.gif http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0687_01-XL.jpg Impressive heights the cacti reach here! http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...685_01-XXL.jpg As I come over the mountains towards Tupiza, the land gets a bit more fertile and agricultural http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0688_01-XL.jpg There is more water... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...1000689-XL.jpg ... I pass through little villages http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0691_01-XL.jpg ... and cross small streams that must be raging torrents in the rainy season (and not all of them can be crossed via bridges...) http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...1000692-XL.jpg Tupiza lies at the river of the same name which has created some gorgeous gorges in the area http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...693_01-XXL.jpg It's just after 3pm when I arrive in town, most of the inhabitants are still holding their siesta, but after the obligatory sightseeing tour I finally find the Hotel Mitru, warmly recommended in the South America Handbook http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...1000705-XL.jpg Yes, they have a single room, [I]con baño privado[/], secure parking, breakfast buffet - and all that for 70 Bolivianos, which is about £6.30... The room is delightful, airy, and spacious http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...1000694-XL.jpg There is a little desk, the bathroom has its own window - what more can the battered and bruised traveller ask for? :) http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...1000695-XL.jpg After a quick shower I explore the hotel's facilities - garden, pool and roof terrace... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...1000696-XL.jpg ... from where you have a great view over the city... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0698_01-XL.jpg ... and the dramatic red rock formations the region is famous for http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...1000699-XL.jpg Is there a cobbler nearby who can repair my soft luggage? Just one block down the road, advises the receptionist. The shoemaker understands straight away what needs to be done to make my panniers usable again. Give me until 7pm, señora. There is no rush, sir, I will stay another night in your lovely town – mañana is early enough. I like Tupiza; the climate is pleasant - we are down to 2,800 metres / 9,200 ft again, the people are friendly and helpful, and I hugely enjoy strolling aimlessly through the city, absorbing the ambience, watching the locals watching football... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0700_01-XL.jpg ... and admiring the somewhat fancy architecture http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...701_01-XXL.jpg The mercado is colourful and picturesque but I don't feel comfortable taking photos; I'm not in a zoo here and it feels disrespectful towards the market-people to point the camera into their faces while they are pursuing their day-to-day tasks. There are still enough inanimate objects worth photographing around http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0702_01-XL.jpg I call Possu, assure him that I am still alive and make light of the accident; then I walk back to the bridge and the railway crossing over which I have entered the town earlier - both look like they have seen better days... http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Ride...0703_01-XL.jpg Tupiza has surprisingly many Pizzerias - and a nice sense of humour: 'Your Pizza' http://possu.smugmug.com/Travel/Sout...XL/foto-XL.jpg ... and they all promote their vegetarian menu. I feel spoilt for choice - "are you decisive, Ela?" "Mmm, let me think about that..." - I've been known for almost starving while passing one café after the other on my trips, because there could be a better one around the next corner... :rolleyes: In the Pizzeria I finally settle for, I meet Ylon from Israel who has been travelling through South America for six months and is now in his last three weeks. We exchange recommendations: he must go and see the Iguazú Falls, I should not miss Northern Peru and Ecuador - which I probably will, as I have only 3 1/2 months to spare... After dinner I'm looking for an internet café, there are plenty about but they are all full - I try in at least eight places to get a free space but to no avail. It certainly doesn't help that the whole of Tupiza relies on one dial-up connection, or so it seems to me, after I have finally managed to upload one photo on the hotel computer - in 15 minutes... What an eventful day, lots to think about and digest into lessons learnt and others that will still need recapping for a while... Suddenly I feel very tired - and what prevents me from going to bed before 9pm if I feel like it? I'm on holiday, it's a free country and tomorrow will be another great day, I'm sure. ¡Buenas noches! |
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