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Life signs

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5 1/2 months have passed since I returned from my big trip. A lot of things happened in those 5 1/2 months.

Back home I noticed that not many things have changed. Ok .. there were quite a few things. Friends became pregnant, children were born, couples separated, new partners were found. But the „big“ picture remained the same.
Right after coming back I visited my colleagues in the company, where I worked before. It was like I had been away for just a week. A few employees are gone, new ones have come. But the cultural structure has not changed. I was assimilated immediately.

I have been back at work since August, in the same company, same position, same desk, same work .. more money 😉
Back in the old environment, I noticed all the other things that did not change. There is that quirky woman with her black ruffled Terrier – with whom she speaks – running through the roads. The two old retired men, who walk almost every day to a nearby supermarket in the morning to get a coffee. The old supermarket, where they went before, does not exist anymore. They built it new somewhere else some time ago. Now they have to walk a little bit further .. and there are all the other little things.
It’s so different to see this constant, compared to me, who was always on the move.

So I am back to “normal” life, or, what is understood as „normal“ by the majority of people. I’d rather describe it as „insane“ sometimes.

Well, it took about 8 weeks until my injuries healed. Some damage will remain. My left shoulder is shorter now, about 3-4 cm, because the broken part of the collarbone is overlapping. I don’t think I will win a beauty contest anymore. My right thumb will not gain its full strength anymore. But all I have to do at work is to hit the keyboard and as long as I can pull the throttle on the bike it is not a problem.

When my shoulder healed, I bought a scooter to be mobile again. When my friends heard that I bought a two wheeled vehicle again, they meant that my learning curve is pretty flat.

I was in Berlin. Twice. The first time, for a few days to visit my friends Esra and Paul and to meet Jamie, their friend who lived in Berlin for a year.

The second time, I went to Holland with my scooter to visit Renate and Bart. I was on the road for 12 days. Having stops in Regensburg, Hannover, Frankfurt, I first visited Kerstin in Berlin and then went on to Renate and Bart.

In Berlin I locked all my keys in the top case of my scooter. A locksmith had to open it. I paid 100 EUR for a, in my view, minor traffic violation, because I did not know a special case of traffic rule. In one of the hostels I met Chuck Norris. Of course it was not Chuck Norris, it was a young Canadian guy, who was really looking like Chuck Norris.
One of the hostels was close to the train station, the area was not very trustable. From the room on the second floor you could observe the prostitutes taking drugs.
It was an experience to be on the road for about 3,500 km with a scooter. I can take that from my bucket list.

For the next few years, long distance journeys are probably cancelled. I bought a property, with a very old house, in which I will never live and which I want to demolish soon, to build a new house.
Back from my trip, I thought about how to continue my life. I was thinking of moving back to Vienna for a while. But I quickly realized that I did not want to do that. And then there was this offer .. a property in the village Großhöflein, next to Eisenstadt, on the soft hillside of the beautiful “Leitha Mountains” .. I bought it. But .. there is much to do .. very much.

Every now and then I write a mail or a message to one or the other person I’ve met on the trip. I have to admit, too little. I communicated more when I was on the road. To some of the people I have not written for a long time, and I lost contact with a few people. But I already know from the past, that it is nearly impossible to keep in contact with everyone.

Life here in Austria absorbed me again .. work, my property, … . At the moment, on many days I am busy from the hour I get up till I go to bed. But there will be time again for other things.

I follow the messages, posts and blogs of my fellow travelers (Faizal, Eli, Mike, …) some are at home, some are still on the road and some started a new journey.

My bike finally arrived back home. When I think about, how much it costed and how much effort it took, it would have been better to have it left in Peru (Question to my English speaking friends: Is this sentence correct ? except all the other mistakes).

The re-import of my motorcycle was far more troublesome than some of the experiences I had at border crossings in Central America. I just wanted my own bike back!
Transport documents, passport, vehicle documents, driving license and the link to my blog – where you can find a lot of photos – were not enough to prove that it is my bike. That would have been too easy. It was a back and forth with endless e-mails. At the end customs in Germany requested that I send all available documents about the trip. What.The.Fuck?
I scanned about 40 pages of border crossing documents, bills, etc. Perhaps people at customs in Germany were just too lazy to get up from their desk and to take a look into the crate.

When I opened the box, it was just a bunch of iron .. dead and drained of blood (before transport they had to remove all fluids). There was dust from the gravel roads of Patagonia in each and every corner, sometimes as hard as concrete and hardly to remove. I started to clean the bike, I took apart everything I could, I cleaned it sometimes with a toothbrush. Emotions came back. The piece of iron has changed again. It again is My bike .. it will drive again .. and it will be ready for new adventures.

Jürgen.

September 19, 2014
to be continued …

Of course, I’m sorry that I had to quit my journey – but 8 1/2 months were anyway a long time. I really wish, I could have made it to Alaska and back to the east coast of Canada. There were so many things I wanted to do. But I see the accident and my sudden return not as the end of my trip(s), just as an interruption. And someday I’ll bring the tour to an end. Because, after a trip is before the next one. 🙂

By now I’ve visited a lot of countries. I was traveling alone or with friends, with a backpack, with a suitcase, by public transport or by car, rented or bought. But this journey was completely different from what I’ve done so far.
It was a whole new experience. I was exposed to the forces of nature like never before and I have come very close to the people. I experienced more than I ever could have imagined. I have met many many people and made new friends. It was not at all an all-inclusive cruise, very often it was a big challenge. It was a huge adventure – and certainly not the last one.
So many times I’ve driven through a landscape that I could not get enough, but it was especially the encounters with other people, who made my trip an exceptional experience.

Thank you for a wonderful time to

– Esra and Paul, my dear long-time friends in Montreal, who gave me a fun weekend at the amusement park and a picnic.- Tino, from Germany in Austin, still on the road around the world.

– Renate and Bart, with whom I had unforgettable experiences with (corrupt) police in Honduras and Nicaragua. We met in Bogota and, with Andi, in Mendoza again. It was not the last time.

– Tobias, from Germany, whom I met in the Hostel in Panama. Unfortunately, we missed each other in Argentina. I hope the troubles with his KTM are over.

– Carolina in Bogota, with whom I have spent a nice time and who told me a lot about life in Bogota .. and we went to a Cafe where they had Austrian donuts.

– Lauren and Adrian from Australia. I have “only” met them at the airport in Bogota, when we picked up our bikes. We were constantly in mail contact, but unfortunately we did not meet again as we were always 2 or 3 days apart.

– Maurico, Laura, Joaquin and Santiago near Talca. Maricio was a mechanic. After my battery broke down, they gave me food and shelter. It was a very special experience.

– Judy and Steve, a wonderful couple. I met them repeatedly in Patagonia. They made their trip with a Harley. Our time together was marked with breakdowns and struggles, but will never be forgotten. I do not regret a second that I was traveling with you.

– my dear friend Andi. Who went with me to the End of the World. With him, it were truly 2 1/2 adventurous months in Chile, Argentina and Bolivia. Poor Andi had 7 flat tires .. and I had none.

– Rosi and Alf, two really nice people. Andi and I met them first in Ushuaia, then by accident on the Carretera Austral. We traveled with them for three days and had a really rough ride on the Lago Buenos Aires to the Marble Caves. Last time we met in Cusco again.

– Hitch and Lee, the „crazy“ guys from New Zealand, which we met in Punta Arenas and with whom we celebrated the New Year in El Calafate.

– Steve Harpt, “Crazy Steve“, from Botswana. Andi and I met him for the first time on the ferry from Porvenier to Punta Arenas. He accidentally passed by, when Andi had his first flat tire. We will see you in Botswana again Steve .. or somewhere else.

– Marisol, Maria and all the others in the hostel in San Rafael – unfortunately I can not remember all your names. Thank you for teaching me „Truco“. It was one of the funniest nights on my trip.

– Eli, the poker player from the States. It was a really good time with you in Bariloche.

– Steve Knight, who lives on an island close to Vancouver, Mikey, who was most recently stationed in the US army in Alaska and Taylor, from Seattle. Andi and I where traveling with them for a couple of days in Bolivia to Lake Uyuni and a few days in Chile, to Santiago. Lake Uyuni is unforgettable, also Taylor’s crash – man was he lucky that he did not get hurt.

– Günther from Austria. I met him only for a few minutes in a hostel in Valdivia. He was extremely helpful, when it came to repair my radiator.
– Marco and Silvia, good friends of Günther. They are very nice people and gave me warm welcome in Santiago.

– Peter, from Germany, with whom I’ve spent some nice evenings in bars. We still “argue” who is to blame for too many drinks. I am looking forward to seeing you again.

A special thank goes out to the people who helped me after my accident in Lima.
– Humberto, in 511 Lima Hostel
– Bart and Faizal, who gave me the contact to Harald. Harald was extremely helpful. He organized to pick up my motorcycle from then police station and the transport home.

And last but not least Kerstin, who stayed at my side the day after my accident. She made me often laugh with her bright nature .. which was not always good for my ribs. 😉

Also thanks to all the other people I’ve met on the road, whose names I can not remember or that I never knew – there were so many people and places – for chatting only for a few minutes, hours, or spending a funny night or days in a hostel, in pubs or bars, … .

Thanks to my readers too, who have accompanied me on my journey. You gave my blog a life.

Well, so I finish this trip.
The next one is already in my mind.

To be continued …

Jürgen.

April 20, 2014
from Cusco to Lima, the accident

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29.03.

I drive 620km from Cusco to Nazca in one day. It took 9 1/ 2 hours. The road is definitely in the top 10 list. From Cusco to Abancay it is a little bit tedious because the road is very winding, but then it is another one of those motorcyclists dreams that came true. Along the Rio Labrama there are wide bends, almost no traffic and I have excellent weather. I let the bike run. It was an exhausting but excellent ride. In Nazca I stay in the same hostel as I did about five months before. Sometimes it is nice to come back to the same place after a longer time. You can see changes or things that have remained the same. The annex at the hostel is completed, the broken car is still in the same place outside on the street.

30.03.

Today I set a distance of about 400km. I wanted to drive around / through Lima and stop somewhere behind on the ocean in a suburb or a small village.
Lima has 9 million inhabitants. I have mentioned several times that I hate these big cities, because there are no traffic rules and everyone drives irresponsibly. Unfortunately, the Pan-American Highway is a main artery that runs through the city. When approaching the city, there are already a lot of crazy drivers, mainly in luxury cars, German brands, BMW, Audi, Mercedes. They are overtaking at very high speed and squeeze through the traffic, often on the emergency lane.
In the poorer suburbs, there are thousands of buses that stop in 2nd and 3rd lane and without even a glance in the rearview mirror enter the traffic again. I won’t start talking about taxis.

It is almost 4pm. I am in Puente Piedra, a suburb of Lima. It is only 10 to 20km to my destination.
I am between buses and trucks. Suddenly there is a car in front of me. It wanted to cross the Pan-American Highway and is standing with the rear part crossed to the lane. I did not see it and it was too late to break. I slam hard against the rear of the car. Dazed I’m lying on the road. Quickly, a crowd formed around me. I wanted to get up, but was pressed down by the people. My left shoulder hurts, I can hardly move my arm.

In the cities there are special insurance officials who are almost on every corner. Apparently, there is plenty of work for them. They are on site immediately. After only 2 or 3 minutes police and ambulance arrived too. Two other travelers, a couple, who were there by accident, were taking care of me. She was talking to me in English, calming me down, he pushed the motorcycle to the side. I sat down in the ambulance.
The police gave me the address of the police station, where the motorcycle was brought. I took my bag and the most important things from the bike, then I was taken to the hospital.

The hospital is only 2 blocks away from the accident site. There I got dropped off in the ER in a wheelchair. My personal data got written down, then I had to wait. On my shoulder I could feel that the collarbone was broken. I waited for a while. One of the nurses urges at some point that I get treated: One should finally take care of the foreigner or he will sit there until tomorrow. Next to me a drunken old man is snoring on one of the hospital beds. He started to breathe stertorously. The doctor took care of him, so that he did not suffocate on his own vomit.
In the hospital I got only a minimal treatment – foreigner, no domestic insurance. My shoulder got x-rayed and it just showed what was clear – that my collarbone is broken. They gave me a piece of paper with something written on it. I should buy the bandage as written on the paper at an orthopedic shop and come back.
It is almost 8pm, I’m hurt, on the outskirts of Lima and they put me on the road. I asked if there was a reasonably good hotel close, they didn’t know.

I had no idea where I was and where I should go. Painfully I took off my motorcycle clothes and put on more comfy things. I packed the most necessary things in a small backpack. Since I was not able to carry all my stuff, I asked the police if I could leave my things until the next day in the small police booth.
I knew that Kerstin, whom I met 2 days earlier in Ollantaytambo and whom I met again in Cusco, was in Lima.
Additionally to my shoulder, my left ribs and right wrist hurt too. They have not been X-rayed. Back in Austria it showed that a rib was broken too.
I was looking for an Internet cafe and asked Kerstin for help. She gave me the name of the hostel where she stayed, which was about 35 km away in the district of Miraflores. I took a taxi to go there. The hostel and the owners were extremely nice and I was glad that I was not alone in one of the hotels in the outskirts.

31.03.

The wonderful Kerstin remains at my side today, driving with me in old taxis and in very hot weather through the city. Even a hardened guy is sometimes happy when he is not alone.
We went to an orthopedic shop to buy a bandage, but we could not get the one I needed. I took the best I could get. We took a taxi to an orthopedic specialist who had a look at my problem. He gave us the address of another orthopedic shop, where I should get the proper bandage, but they had only size small available.

We went to the embassy. There I talked to an official. I wanted to know what I should take care of, when talking to the police. Then we drove to Puente Piedra to the police. We waited quite a while for a translator, who did not show up. Eventually, the driver of the other vehicle was called.
After the whole family had arrived, we were sent out by the police officers to have a view on our vehicles and to have a chat.
This is the usual way here – the parties may settle the matter themselves. If they do, the case is closed.
We discussed for a while about who is to blame. The main fault is on me, because I hit the other car.
The guy in the other car wanted to tell me that he took care of the traffic rules. Thousands of drivers who don’t give a shit and he wanted to tell us, he did not do anything wrong. He wanted nearly 400 EUR for the repair of his vehicle. We agreed at about 220 EUR – still too much. I did not have much choice. We could have gone the official way. But that would have lasted indefinitely.
In a small shop, a letter is written, that no further claims are made.
Back at the police station, they wrote a report with all the details and that we found an agreement. My bike and the vehicle of the other party were released.

01.04.

Today I tried to find someone to pick up my motorcycle from the police station and for a place to park it. I write to everyone I could find. Bart starts a call on Facebook, that an injured friend is stuck in Lima and needs help. Faizal from Malaysia wrote, he is in Lima and knows someone who could help. Faizal is on a world tour with two friends. They met Harald, when they took a break somewhere in Lima. Harald has a few motorcycles that he rents and he has a shop for motorcycle accessories in a shopping mall. With him, I got in contact.

02.04.

Harald organized a company that picked up my bike from the police with a minibus and took it to Haralds garage.
I sort out things, leave a few things behind and pack what I want to take home. Harald takes me to his house and gives me a suitcase for my stuff.
He offered to organize the transport of my bike to Germany. Thus, my presence in Lima is not necessary, Harald needs a permission of an attorney, that he can ship the bike. He takes care of that too. Harald invited me too a motorcyclist meeting in the evening, where I also meet Faizal and his friends.

03.04.

Waiting.
Those who visit Lima and stay only in the beautiful districts of Miraflores and San Isidro or in the historical center, did not see Lima. The accident and the many taxi journeys have led me through various districts.
Miraflores and San Isidro are the wealthiest neighborhoods in Lima. Situated near the sea, chic residential skyscrapers and restaurants, nice, clean parks and streets.
The outskirts are completely different. Thousands of buses and cars clog the streets, the sidewalks are full of people, it is noisy and often dirty. Shabby hotels, where you usually spend one or two hours, are sometimes lined up one next to the other.

04.04.

In the afternoon, I got a call from Harald, that the permission from the attorney is ready and that there is a quote for the shipping. With an employee of Harald I walk to a lawyer’s office and sign the permission. Then we walk to Haralds motorcycle shop, where I pay for the shipping.
After everything is done, I immediately call the air ambulance in Austria. They booked a flight for me, for the next day.

05.04. / 06.04.

I visited Harald in his shop to say goodbye. My flight is going in the evening.
It is my first long-haul flight in Business Class. I could get used to it. But I could have done without, if I just could continue traveling.
Next to me sits a Bolivian, who was flying to the international court in The Hague to discuss the situation in Venezuela. The political situation got pretty serious in Venezuela in the recent months.
I arrived in Vienna in the evening. I am back home.

07.04. until …

Torn out from my trip so quickly, I did not have time to think about the close future. I have to get used to the new situation of being home again. The healing of my broken bones will take 4 to 5 weeks. Time to think.

Thank you for reading, Jürgen.

P. S. Stay tuned, I have not yet finished writing, there will be one or two more articles.

April 13, 2014
accident with consequences

Well, that is not a late April Fool’s joke. My journey found an abrupt end.

On March 30th I had an accident, when I wanted to go through Lima on the Panamericana in the afternoon. I hit a car badly that had been standing cross to the lane with the back. For this you shall know, if you survive the rush hour here, you are lucky.

Result: left broken clavicle, ribs and left side at least bruised, I do not know in detail yet – it hurts, right hand thumb slightly bruised. I was in a hospital in the outskirts. There I had only minor treatment in the emergency room, clavicle was x-rayed. Then I was sent away to buy my bandage myself.

The front of my bike badly damaged. It has taken a few days to organize everything with the bike. But now I can finally go home. Sunday, about 19pm I will arrive in Vienna.

Details, as soon as I can write with both hands again.

Thank your for reading, Jürgen.

April 5, 2014
floating islands, Cusco, Machu Picchu and road blocks

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20.03., 21.03.

From Copacabana, in Bolivia, to Puno, in Peru, it is only a short drive. Peter and I arrive there at noon.
For the afternoon we booked a trip to the floating islands on Lake Titicaca. The floating islands are the home of the Uro people. As of their history, they existed before sun. They have “black” blood and are resistant to cold, could not drown and were immune to lightning. They have lost their status as super beings, because they were disobedient to the laws of the universe and have mixed with humans. The Uros were one of the first peoples in the Andes, long before the Incas. The Incas treated the Uros badly because of their simple way of life and saw them as lower class people. Eventually, they retreated to the water to escape the attacks.
Despite their simple way of life, the people of the Uros have outlived the highly developed Incas.

The islands consist of about two meters of tort and are covered with about one meter of reed. On the smaller islands live 5 to 7 families. One of these islands is perhaps 15 to 20m in diameter. An Island can last for about 30 years if it is well maintained. The islands close to Puno have a population of about 2,000 people. Meanwhile, tourism is a major source of income.

On the evening of the first day Peter and I went out in Puno. Too many mojitos force me to stay another day in Puno. I don’t want to drive about 400 km to Cusco in a doubtful personal condition.
Peter is doing better than me and is moving on.

22.03., 23.03.

Just 40 km from Puno is the big city of Juliaca. At the exit of the city the road was covered with smaller and up to football sized stones and partially with shattered glass. Every now and then something slowly on the street. As far as it was possible I drove slowly through the mess. After about 100m I got stopped by locals. A demonstration, apparently a bit violent. Soon I was surrounded by a whole bunch of people. But I am still 100 to 150 meters away from the mob. The locals told me to take a detour – for security reasons. It is only 15km more to drive. Apparently, the previous days the demonstration was at the other road. Again, the road was barely passable for 300 to 400 meters and also covered with stones and broken glass.

Cusco’s architecture is a real highlight, though, as almost all of South America, with dubious historical background.
Once Cusco was the center of the Inca Empire. The Spaniards destroyed many of the Inca buildings and sites and used the stones to build their massive huge religious buildings and there are many of them in this city.
In the evening I met Peter again, who took Maurice from Ireland/Australia with him – also traveling by motorcycle. The evening ends again very late, which prevents a sightseeing tour the next day. Peter has a bad influence on me. He says of course, it is the other way around.

24.03., 25.03.

I drive to Ollantaytambo, which is located only about 60km from Cusco. Early in the morning when I walk through the city to organize the tickets for Machu Picchu there are some streets occupied and blocked by people around the hostel. On the city exit road tires were blocking the street completely. Here the mob did not seem so angry as two days ago. Children were playing in the street and it was more cheerful. With the motorcycle, I can easily squeeze through.

Ollantaytambo was once also a very important Inca city too. It is one of the last villages where you can see the city planning of the Incas. Ollantaytambo is the gateway to Machu Picchu. Either by train or on foot on the famous Inca Trail. Although there are a lot of tourists, the small village is laid back.

The owner of the hostel, where I stay tells me about a back entrance to the main attraction. Close to the village there is the temple hill. There were large terraces to grow vegetables, but mainly it was a religious site. So I was able to save 70 or 80 Soles. I was lucky that there was no security guy there, when I sneaked in.

I met Peter for the last time here. He had already arrived the day before. A you already know the story of the wrong 50 Soles bill.

26.03.

I start early in the morning. First, with the train along the raging Urubamba River. A 1 1/2 hour ride, which ends in Aguas Calientes – named Machu Picchu village now. Machu Picchu village is located at about 2,000 m above sea level. From there you climb up by bus about 350 vertical meters to the Inca city on a steep, narrow, winding road. A sprawling large facility, nestled in the mountains, that rises around in the air. A city in an inaccessible spot. Everyone knows Machu Picchu from television and magazines. It is an experience to see it live.

27.03. / 28.03.

For two nights I came back to Cusco. I have to get some things done and for that, a big city is much better than a small village.
I almost need an organizer to get along with my appointments.
On the first evening I met Kerstin from Germany. We met in Ollantaytambo the day before.

At 28.03. in afternoon, Steve and Ollie from Botswana pass by at the hostel. Steve Harpt – one of the three Steves – who Andi and I met in Patagonia. Ollie, a good friend of Steve, came from Botswana for about 2 weeks to travel with him around Cusco. They were close to Cusco and it would have been a shame, if we had not met.

As I stroll through Cusco, I suddenly see Alfred and Rosi sitting at a table in a restaurant. Andi and I met Alf and Rosi the first time in Ushuaia and then again at the border to Chile at Chilecito. We traveled with them for three days on the Careterra Austral. We chatted for a while and made an appointment for the next evening.

I had a good time the last few days.
I have met new people, Peter, with whom I have spent happy evenings, the very lovely Kerstin and I met “old“ friends again.
There are days when homesickness disappears.

Thank you for reading, Juergen.

April 1, 2014
The short story of the wrong 50 Soles bill

During the last few days I have seen floating islands, Cusco, Machu Picchu and some other things. But more about that in two or three days. Here is the story of the wrong 50 Soles bill.

In Ollantaytambo I was eating with Peter, whom I met in Bolivia, in a restaurant. Here in Peru it is always good to have small bills in the wallet. In the small shops it is sometimes a problem to pay with 20 Soles bills. There is always a lack of change. The restaurant was upper middle class, a main course costs between 7 and 10 EUR. Anyway, our bill accounts for about 140 Soles. I have only 100 and 200 bills in my wallet. Peter put a bunch of 10s and 20s on the table. So I take his cash to have some smaller bills and pay with two 100 Soles bills. I get a 50 and 10 Soles bill as change.

The next day I was up early and was walking around in Ollantaytambo for a good 2 1/2 hours. About noon, I had already walked 7 to 8 km. I take a break and sit down in a restaurant at the main square. There I had a good chicken soup and I drank a beer. I wanted to pay with the 50 Soles bill and was immediately reminded that it is a wrong bill – now I was able to see it too. However, it was good enough that a tourist would not recognize it, if not looking very carefully. I did not pay too much attention to the bills – at least not until now.

I knew immediately where I had received the 50 Soles bill the day before. Was it intentional? Or was it just a coincidence? I did not know what to think. The 50 Soles remained in my pocket for now. I plot Plan A, to go to this restaurant again, have dinner there and to leave the wrong 50 Soles bill, where I received it.

The next day, when I came back from Machu Picchu to the train station in Aquas Calientes, I still had some time left. Since I had not eaten all day, I bought a sandwich and a drink and accidentally gave the wrong 50 Soles. They took it. I thought: Well, that was not my plan, but I got rid of it. 10 minutes later the employees from the Café were looking for me in the waiting area. I played stupid. Again they showed me that the bill was a copy. I want to avoid problems and take the bill back.

So, back to Plan A. Morally, I had some doubts. But now, since the forgery was detected in two different places, I supposed that the restaurant has given the wrong 50$ on purpose.

I will prepare the “crime“ to the last detail. I walk around the restaurant, looking for the best “escape way”. I think about what place I’m going to take in the restaurant, that I can get out fast, as long as the waitress is still on the way to the cash desk. I planned to eat for 60 Soles and I planned how to place the bills on the invoice – the 10 over the 50, so that you can only see the number 50 and to place a few coins as tip.
So in the evening I go back to the restaurant and sit down strategically. The food, without a doubt, tastes good. I have a steak, a beer and then a cocktail – in total is summed up to exactly 60 Soles.

Sitting on a large table – like in the evening, when I was there with Peter – sat a large group of 16 or more people. And then I was lucky. I was about to ask for the bill, as the large group began to pay – almost everyone individually. Lots of small plates with bills were given to the people. The people were chatting, so it took a while until they put the money on the plates and until then plates were collected. I used “chaos” and asked for the bill too. I placed the money as said on the plate. My plate with the money mixed with the other ones. I was quickly out of the door and disappeared around the next two corners, in the dark, narrow streets. The “crime” was successful.

I bet another tourist has to deal with the 50 Soles bill soon.

Thank you for reading, Jürgen.

March 27, 2014
no McDonalds in Bolivia

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„Here at Titicaca Lake,
my bottom needs a little break.“
Admirer of fine literature know … He’s a poet manqué.

13.03. / 14.03.

2 nights in Tupiza. It’s sunny and hot.
Actually, I wanted to follow the footsteps of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Reportedly, the two were shot in San Vicente, which is about 110 km from Tupiza, in a firefight with Bolivian soldiers. I stopped the project in less than an hour. The single-track winding gravel road leads through the mountains and I only made about 15 to 20 km. It would have taken 5 hours in only one direction. So I explore the surrounding area and spend a leisurely day. There is a bizarre landscape here too, free of charge, if you have a vehicle to go there.

15.03.

From Tupiza I go to Potosi. For the second time I torture myself through the horrendous traffic in the high-altitude city. This time I was lucky with the weather. The rainy season seems to have ceased. It still rains every day, but there are only brief showers in the afternoon or evening.

In the early evening I went for dinner with two Canadian girls and an American. Later in the evening again with a Belgian and two Swiss girls. We are moving within a few blocks around the hostel. After dinner we ask a few locals on the street where we can go for a drink. They tell us where it is safe and where not. On the main square a very drunken local person starts to talk in English with us, better dressed, around 30. He could not speak a straight sentence. We listened to him for a while. The Belgian guy in our group, I can not remember his name and simply call him B, is then pulled aside by another local person. I get suspicious. What is it, what can not be discussed in front of the group?

B then said to us, the local person can bring us to a pub. I do not trust him. We walk two blocks, then the locals, we met before, shout from afar. “Hey, Hey, No, No – Not in this direction, it is an unsafe neighborhood.” The other one disappeared shortly thereafter. We chat for a while with them and try the high percentage liquor they have with them. Then we visited a small, dingy but nice Hard Rock pub, where a few people were sitting in their black leather jackets and dark appearance.

16.03.

The ride from Potosi to Oruro is, again, a highlight. In cold but sunny weather, I drive most of the time over 4,000 m above sea level on a road through a wonderful landscape. It is a dance with nature.
Oruro, however, is not really a highlight. It starts raining and after having some food I stay in the hotel room and watch TV.
There is a monument at one of the city exits where you can see the dominant industry (extraction of raw materials) and who has influence on it (China). The monument is a huge miners helmet and before that there is a dragon.

17.03.

As beautiful as the ride was from Potosi to Oruro, as terrible is the ride from Oruro to La Paz. It is just a big construction site, as it is being extended from 2 to 4 lanes. Old heavy trucks and buses pollute the air with their stinking exhausts. The suburbs of La Paz are a true horror. La Paz is again one of the cities where traffic rules are not valid. Everyone is driving like he wants. You approach the city from about 4.000m above sea level, driving about 10km through the ugly suburbs, then you reach the edge of the plateau and you are really surprised by what you see.

You look down into a wide, deep valley. On all slopes, no matter how steep and high, nestle houses of red and brown bricks. At night, it seems like thousands of candles are lit.
According to Wikipedia, the deepest point in the city is around 3,200m and the highest is at about 4,100. According to my GPS device, the historic center is located at an altitude of about 3,600m.

When I drove through the suburbs, I had a negative impression. In the evening and also after it got dark, I walked through the city. Crowds of people throng through the streets, lots of cars are stuck in a traffic jam. The city is unique and has its own character and charm.

Someone told me that there is no McDonalds in Bolivia. First, I ate a salad in a restaurant. The salad was not enough and I went to one of the fast food restaurants to eat a burger. The ambience, setting, process of ordering food,.. does not differ from large international chains … and it also did not taste very different.

Back at the hostel, I looked up on the Internet. And here is a typical example of how media spread false information.

McDonalds has actually withdrawn from Bolivia in 2012, they could not make business here.
In the media, they told: The Bolivians “show respect for their bodies and are very careful what food they eat”, they were suspicious of the fast food, the local “fast food” such as empanadas are preferred, etc. Incorrect!
Here in the center of La Paz, there are at least five different fast food chains, working on the principle of McDonalds, Burger King, KFC. Almost on every second corner you can find such a restaurant.

19.03.

I leave the city and go to Copacapana on Ruta2. Man, was I glad when I left the traffic chaos behind me.
About 40km before Copacapana it is necessary to take a short distance by ferry. The ferries are very simple flat wooden boats. Fit to carry two cars or small trucks.
While I was waiting, Peter from Germany arrived. We went together to Copacabana, where we checked in in a nice hotel at the beach. The Peruvian border is only 9 km and we still have some Bolivanos left.
According to Wikipedia Copacabana was once an indigenous religious center, today it is primarily a tourist village, consisting of hotels, restaurants and souvenir shops.
Nevertheless, the area is pretty nice here, and Lake Titicaca is really big, water tips the horizon. So tomorrow I leave the next country behind me and visit Peru again.

Thank you for reading, Jürgen.

March 19, 2014
Farewell to Argentina

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It’s been a while since I wrote an update. Well, I am fine. I led a good life in Cafayate, Cachi and Salta.
Getting up late. Either walking around in the village or exploring the area by bike.
In the early afternoon I had a beer and was reading in one of the restaurants around the main square. After that I had a siesta and in the evening often ate steak and wine. And I was lazy working on my blog too.

06.03. – 09.03. + 10.03 / 11.03.

After 6 days I leave Cafayate and drive on the Ruta 40 north to Cachi.

Cachi is located at about 2,600 m above sea level. It is a small village of about 5,000 inhabitants. The core of the village is colonial. I stayed three nights. The daily routine does not differ very much from that in Cafayate.

In Cachi each evening a strong wind comes up. Near the village I climb up a small hill. The rock is furrowed and the stones are sharp, flip flops are certainly not the appropriate footwear.
From the hill you get a good view in both directions of the vast plane. The landscape is painted in gorgeous colors by the evening sun.
I curled myself into a wind protected corner and watched the sunset for a while. Sometimes I venture a look at the other side. Small stones are thrown in my face like needles. On the other side I can see large dust clouds being blown across the river.

My departure from Argentina is approaching. Two more days in Salta to do a few organizational matters.

12.03.

I drive a few kilometers to Tilcara to the Bolivian border, to make sure that the trip to Bolivia on the next day is not too far. Here I spend the last hours and squander the last pesos. In the hostel there is an asado – BBQ argentinean style. That means various kinds of meat and sausage. The roles are clear, while the men take care of the meat, the women prepare the salad and other stuff too .. that seems to be the same all over the world.

13.03.

The border is just 200 km away. I enjoy the ride. Argentina gives a sunny farewell. In the border town of La Quiaca there is no fuel available. I intended to spend the last pesos I kept, for that. No problem, I have enough fuel to reach my destination.
On the other side of the road there is an old red bus, which was converted into a small restaurant. Before there was a lot of smoke from a BBQ. I entered the bus and asked how much a meal costs. The answer is 50 pesos. I said that I’m leaving Argentina and have only 30 pesos left. The lady asks the boss. Yes, I can have a smaller meat dish.
And just before I left Argentina, I enjoyed once again the hospitality of the people. At the next table is a family sitting. The man listened to my conversation and offered me a glass of cola.

The border formalities are done quickly and before I disappear into the streets of the Bolivian border town of Villazon, I turn around a last time, throw a glance back and say goodbye to this beautiful country and the wonderful people.

Thank you for reading, Jürgen.

March 15, 2014
not everyone returns home

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25.02. – 26.02.

After I waited in Mendoza for another rainy day to get over, I moved on on Wednesday. As it turns out in the afternoon, it was maybe a good idea.
The weather is good today, it stays dry and I’m taking a greater distance of 400km to Villa San Augustin. Andi and I spent two nights there already about a month ago. Nice hostel, relaxed owners.
This time I took a different, direct route from Mendoza. My bike seems to be ok. On the last 150km through the pampa I meet very few cars. Due to the problems in the last few weeks, I still feel a bit uneasy to ride alone through such long distances.
In Mendoza, I’ve seen on the satellite images that the rain affected a wide range of the area. From Mendoza to Villa San Augustin, the whole landscape is soaked in water. The desert was turned into a muddy plain. The area around Villa San Augustin seemed to have been affected stronger. Although I am on a paved road, I had to cross small rivers several times. Twice the road was washed away.
Just before the village, a wide strong flowing river blocked the road. There were already several cars waiting. I drive slowly up to the water line. On the other side, a policeman waved that I should not cross. I did not intend to do that immediately. Buses, trucks and SUVs are allowed to cross. Small and medium-sized cars were towed with a community truck across the river. After a few minutes the policeman crossed the river and told me that I am not allowed to cross with the bike. Two days ago another motorcyclist was killed here.

I had to wait until someone came along with a pickup truck. It did not take very long. I took off the luggage and with the help of a few other people we lifted the bike on the car. The locals gained some extra money on taking some other motorcycles across the river too.
The operator of the hostel in San Augustin told me more. On Monday, a Chilean motorcycle traveler ignored the warnings of a campsite operator near the river. The unfortunate man was washed away by the water, while trying to cross the river and did not survive.

27.02. – 28.02.

Before I left the hostel, I was told to take care, as I have to cross two more rivers. Although they were deep, the water was not very strong. However, I had to continue with wet shoes and feet.

I stay in La Rioja and San Miguel de Tucumán. They are just stopovers. I do not like these big cities. It’s hard to orientate and the people drive like crazy.

01.03. – ?

Back to the countryside, back on the Ruta 40. The area here near the Andes is very beautiful. From Tucumán a winding route leads along a river through the mountainous Tafi de Valle. Two contrasting landscapes on the one and on the other side of the mountain. It’s raining slightly from Tucumán. The area is green and forested. Crossing the pass, the landscape of the Calchaquíes highlands is more bare, arid and cactus-covered.

Cafayate is a cozy little wine-growing town. Famous, or the hallmark of the area, are wines from the Torrontés Riojano grape, a white wine.
At the moment, I am extending the stay from day to day.

It is a bit hard to get food in the afternoon here. “Food? The kitchen opens at 9pm.“ Before that time you just get little things, like sandwiches, salad or empanadas.

On Sunday, a motocross race took place. I watched for a while, how the drivers were flying across the track.
There is also a wine museum, where they put up a small monument for the wine. The story of the origin, the grape varieties, the importance of soil and the scarce water … . Everything is explained clearly and in an entertaining way.

The north of Argentina has really caught me. The landscape, the sunny weather, the coziness … the good wine, the steaks. Actually, I wanted to be in Ecuador in the middle of March, but just today, I exchanged some money again. I will probably stay a few more days in the area.

Thank you for reading, Jürgen.

March 4, 2014