Like it didn't happen

It's dark when I wake up and go to work.
It's dark when I finish work and go home.
South America? It didn't happen.

What happened? After Ecuador I went to Peru to meet up with Karin, we traveled to Bolivia (had some fun and saw a lot of salt), went on to Argentina (saw some waterfall and did some tango in Buenos Aires), went on to Brazil (did some beach and island stuff and saw some Rio) and that was it. Flied home, freezed my ass of getting out of the plane, and took the train back to my beautiful city of Apeldoorn! Had some drinks and sleep and kickstarted my career when the weekend was over. That's it!



Well I wrote something when I was waiting at the airport in SP, and you can read it below between the photo's.



For the sake of writing a conclusion I will share a few thoughts with you concerning my travels:

• Try to like rice before you go to South America
• People from the US are the most screwed up people that I have met (in general, if you are reading this and you are aware of my blog you are most probably part of the non-screwed up part.)
• Speaking Spanish and being able to dance drastically improves your luck with the locals
  
• Try to like bananas if you head North and expect it to be part of your food. Always.
  
• Couchsurfing is a fantastic way if you want to meet local people
• It's also a fantastic way to meet total nut heads
  
• Colombia is the best country of South America, except that they put cheese in their tea and hot chocolate milk
  
• Rio has it all: beach, parties, nature, criminals and cops that want you to undress yourselves
• I'll definitely return someday
• Which is a standard expression for travelers who afterward start their career, get a family, and never return.
  

After leaving Ecuador I headed east towards the south of Peru to meet up with Karin and travel with her for a while through Bolivia. I took buses for like 3 days in a row, stopping only in Cuenca (south of Ecuador) and Puira (north of Peru) to spend the daytime and continue the body breaking bus travels towards Arequipa. In Lima I was easily convinced by some people to stay for two days instead of 8 hours. It was a great break, and I actually liked the city (usually people hate it). But there's a story to it! When I was young, my parents gave me a train and tracks that I could build throughout the room, keeping me from the streets at the age of 4. The brand of this train was "Lima". When someone told me that was actually a city far far away, the city of Lima was planted in my brain as a magical city where I would probably never go. Anyway, I did go, it was not magical, but still good. Didn't see any trains though.







Ok so after some 3000km from Quito I finally found Karin hidden in the dust and heat of Arequipa. I washed my clothes which dried in like 10 seconds, was showed around Arequipa in a few hours (thanks Karin, I like speed tourism now and then) and we set off to Bolivia. To cut things short, we spent some time walking and doing nothing at Isla del Sol, visited La Paz for a few days where we became short term friends of some Argentinians and Brazilians in an all Irish hostel (how did we get there again?) and then traveled, with the two, to the salt deserts. It's this white stuff you see i the pictures.







After the salt adventure our roads split, Karin discovering Chile, me discovering Argentina. First stop was Salta, where I met with Ramiro and his nephew. They showed me around the city, which reminds me most of Apeldoorn. It even had a C&A in the main street! Ramiro teached me "peddles", until then an unknown sport to me, but it seems like a fusion of tennis and squash. Ramiro plays it regularly, so in order not to hurt his feelings, I have let him win with 4-6, 6-4, 6-7.







Ok, then I went to Cordoba, Argentina's 2nd largest city. Was a bit bored there, but did see a little cute small village near the city. Wait, that was actually boring too. Well what did surprise me were the just made friends that were inhaling cocaine like it was oxygen, telling me it was not addictive at all while their hands were shaking, and at the same time asking me if I really wouldn't want to try as well.



Buenos Aires! To cut it short: beautiful city, and of all I liked tango the most of South America's dances. Because I understood.



Iguazu falls! At the border of Argentina and Brazil.





Then, just as the Spanish language was fluidly coming from my tongue after three months of practice, I entered Brazil. They (the Portuguese) say Portuguese is pretty much like Spanish, but it's not. Not really a problem: Ilha Grande and Rio de Janeiro were still a lot of fun. Especially Rio where people just go out every night and come back just in time to catch the bus to work. It really surprises me that Brazil has the best economy of South America.





Ah and I saw Sao Paulo FC win the Brasilian league, in Rio!







Last two days I spent with Maria, who I met in Colombia three months ago, in Sao Paulo. Finished off in style with a great Portuguese concert last night! Now, having a cold (how does my body know I'm going to Holland?) and a hangover, I'm waiting to catch my plane back home, contemplating life over there...

Chugchilan

It’s 9pm, it’s dark, and there’s nobody on the street, for as far as we can call it a street at all. It seems like this village is abandoned by all means of life, exemplified by the graveyard I’m just passing. The nearest light pole weakly lightens the poorly maintained graves. They produce strange noises, or so it seems. I decide to head back to my hostel. Dogs start barking loudly as I’m passing their territory, and one even comes up to me. I’m not afraid. The hostel owner explained me that carrying around a small stick is enough to keep dogs away, so since I’m carrying one, there’s no need to worry. Also, I am told, dogs in villages do not have rabies. The dog approaching me is different from the others, in the sense that he is not barking, just walking around me and following me back to my hostel. He is also different because one of his eyes seems kind of screwed up. Since the dog even follows me to my room, I decide it’s the hostels dog. I call him Cloud, named after my abandoned hostel Cloud Forest. Well, not entirely abandoned. I checked in today as its single guest.





I’m in Chugchilan, a village in Ecuador, just a few hours below the equator. Inhabited by some 30 people, it has three hostels that are all near to empty due to the low season. Chugchilan is part of the Quilotoa Loop, which forms a circle around a valley (hence the name). There are a few other villages like these around the loop, adding up to around 80 indigenous people living here, all seeming to know each other. Most are used to tourists -they mention money as soon as they see your camera- but that’s about it that connects them to the outside world. A volunteer tells me that the teenagers here don’t even know how babies are produced. Since they do know they like the local boys, most of the girls here are carrying around a baby on their back.





Two weeks ago I was still in Colombia, and that’s where the previous story left off. The last few days I exchanged my French/Colombian owned hostel for staying with the family of my local friend, and had a great time with (maybe) the nicest people of Cali. I think I even picked up some more Spanish. However, it was time to take off to the world capital of Spanish language schools: Quito! It also happens to be the capital of Ecuador, decided upon by the Spanish conquistadors some five centuries ago. Wisely against the advice of my South American lonely planet, I took the night bus from Colombia, arriving at night again in Quito. Interesting to note: the weekend of my arrival there was not a drop of alcohol available in the entire city, or even country, because on Sunday a referendum was held to change the constitution. It is –by the way- obligatory to vote in Ecuador. I think people here get repetitive strain injuries from voting here, since this country had some 7 presidents over the past ten years, and obviously, none of them finished their term.





Quito is a favorite destination for IMF-staff talking economics, but for me, Quito was all about my Spanish lessons. I had a great time staying at Merche’s huge house and exploring the city in my spare time. Compared to Cali, the weather sucked. Washing my clothes wasn’t such a problem, drying them in the morning sun of Quito was not a problem as well, but getting them of the washing line before the afternoon rain was something I managed only rarely. I guess that was the only serious issue I had in Quito, and it’s actually quite beautiful here and there. Well, next to the issue that half of the people I know in Quito were robbed or mugged in the bus, mostly at broad daylight. Who says Colombia is the most dangerous place on earth? However, nobody tried to rob me. And just as a message to all those full-time robbers out there: you are stupid you didn’t. Ok, so my cheap, ragged, and small backpack has been filled with mostly EXPENSIVE stuff, most of the days I’ve been walking around the old town or taking the extremely busy busses to school or home. Think about a big, brand new SLR camera, a mobile phone that works a lot better than the phones you usually steal, a cute small laptop that, I experienced, most girls would die for, a Dutch passport that works at every border, even though you threw away the official documents you really had to hand in at leaving a country, and a bunch of bank notes to get me through the next few days. Of invaluable worth to bad people: my 30 dollar cents note block. If you could have gotten a hold of this one, containing my most personal notes, you could have extorted me for the rest of my life. Anyway, you did not rob me. Too bad, you could have taken quite a sabbatical...





After a tiring but enjoyable week, with fast-track Spanish lessons in the morning (my iPod and spending time with the Colombians gave me a head start on the elementary level 1), homework in the afternoon, and Merche regularly refusing to talk with me in another language than Spanish, I left the city. Merche advised me to travel to Chugchilan, so I did.



The way from Latacunga to Chugchilan was quite an experience, with a road built out of bumps, measuring just about the width of the bus, a steep valley just beside it, and hearing even the local people sometimes gasping for air. I didn’t really notice that my legs were stuck between mine and the chair in front of me, I was just watching the road. I mean, I was just watching the valley. Did you know the lonely planet advises to travel on top of the bus? Don’t trust this guide. Anyway, what you would not think about at that moment is getting a flat tire, which, of course, happened. The bus driver happily drove on further, at a slightly slower speed and turned up salsa music, to the next village on the road to professionally change the tire.





The busses, by the way, are extremely cheap here, costing less than one dollar an hour. When you know the state of the busses, the salary of the drivers, and above all the gas prices in Ecuador, you know why. Let’s focus on the gas. Per liter, in US dollars (the money you pay with in this country!), Ecuador will charge you about $0.37. Compare that to The Netherlands, the most expensive country in the EU to get your gas, where you pay about $2.63. Or, if you really want to talk crazy gas prices with your colleagues, consider Venezuela: $0.05 per liter (these prices are from a few months ago, look here for a gas price map of the world).

That evening, cheering up the Cloud Forest owner by arriving at his empty hostel, I enjoyed being alone and decided to take a walk, where I ended up meeting Cloud. I made an exception in my not liking dogs. The next morning, waking up to explore more of this internet-less village, Cloud was already awake to greet me. The hostel owner ensured me it is not his dog. After wandering around on some long gone trails around the village (Cloud faithfully following me) I decide to check-in to the hostel next door called Mama Hilda, the same hostel my sister once visited, I found out later. This hostel actually had some other travelers around, the reason I moved. Unfortunately, Mama Hilda was not there because of travels to Quito. I hope she is doing fine.





The next day I took the 4am morning bus. Alone. Imagine taking the same bus I described to you earlier, but this time at dark. With the same music, but louder. It keeps the driver awake, I guess, although I didn’t like that he tried to save energy by turning his lights off now and then. Again, I had to think of my oldest sister, who would have loved sitting on the same bus. I was traveling to start of on the Quilotoa crater hike, where I arrived somewhere after 5, still dark. One of the locals near the entrance of the crater asked me in for coffee. Some people just wake up to early. As I entered his tiny house, I noticed his wife and kid did not really share his love for the early morning, greeting me from their bed that is standing in the same room.





The Quilotoa crater, once an up and running volcano, ruining itself 800 years ago by spitting some lava around, even reaching the Pacific, measures 3km wide and so far accumulated 250m of water deep. Walking the six hour trail past the crater and back to the hostel was amazing. After 3 hours I met some other travelers, but until then it was magically beautiful and quiet just walking there. I would really not recommend it to anyone to keep it this way.





Leaving Chugchilan, I was supposed to take the same 4am bus the next day, meeting two girls from England and the guy from Australia, that I met during the walk the day before, and that were staying just further on the road. The road decided otherwise by breaking down during the night, which resulted in the bus taking the other way on the loop, and me leaving without a plan and fellow travelers. I doubted on what to do. In Latacunga, I called my intelligible Ecuador specialist sister who was just traveling home in her town, and half an hour later I was on the road to touristy Banos (that’s Spanish for baths if you put a tilde on the n). Great town if you like day and sport activities. I stayed a few days, tried eating guina pig (cavia), took hot baths, and had a full day of level 4+ rafting in on of Ecuador’s rivers. The full day only lasted half a day, but it was certainly one of the best half days.





After Banos, I somehow traveled north first, and after a short time staying in this rainy town, continued heading south. I might come back one day to see these Galapagos things everybody is talking about.

The only risk is wanting to stay

Two days ago I was sitting on this bus on my way back to the center of Cali, with my friend next to me. I was on the phone with Michael, who might join us for some drinks at night. The bus was filled, and then this guy enters the bus that starts selling candies. He is probably one of the many poor in Colombia, and it’s just one of the ways to afford a living. The process of selling candy in busses is quite interesting. First, the guys walks from the front to the back of the bus, providing candy to everyone. You could get the impression that he’s just giving it away. But then, sometimes after a short advertisement for the candy from the front of the bus, he makes his way through the bus again, taking money for the candy, or otherwise getting his candy back. The latter happens the most often.







This time, after the candy seller left the bus, this guy behind us stands up and starts talking. I can’t understand, but since the whole bus suddenly wakes up and starts talking, something must be wrong. My friend translates. The guy behind us was also on the phone. Instead of being sold candy, he got a knife pushed to his stomach, and got robbed from his cell phone and watch.



Cali, Colombia is with about 2.7 million inhabitants the 3rd largest city of Colombia, after Medellin, and of course after Bogota (7.5 million). Cali is famous for salsa. For me, Cali is not famous at all. I thought it sounded like a cozy and small colonial style town, where people live in peace and harmony and earn their living by selling handcraft and growing their own vegetables. As you figured, it’s not! But I like it here a lot, since I’ve met some great people from here, and I’ve been at many good places so far.





I guess that for most people outside Colombia, the country is mostly known for guerilla organizations like the FARC and its main export products coffee and cocaine. And so it should be dangerous! Well except for the coffee. Which is quite good by the way. The main slogan of the tourist bureau of Colombia is “Colombia. The only risk is wanting to stay”. I don’t think it’s a good one. When your country is famous for risk, I would not recommend to mention it in any way in the main slogan. I’m not a marketing specialist, so if anyone has a thought about this… Anyway, it’s just not true! For example, until 2000, Colombia was regularly leading the world homicide ranking list. Since then, the number of homicides have almost halved. Still, it ranks 8th worldwide with 37 homicides per 100.000 inhabitants (for the Netherlands, this is 0.92, ranking 17th place from the bottom of the list of countries mentioned) [1]. Multiply this with an average life expectancy and you’ll find that there is a big chance that you know someone who once has been in serious trouble.





Some people blame Hollywood for the image of this country being the Walhalla for cocaine lovers. I think the main reason is that it actually IS the largest exporter of cocaine. An 80% of the cocaine sold worldwide is produced in Colombia, adding up to 6.5 billion of black US dollars. However, I have not met any people here using cocaine, at least not that I know. Police and military are actively searching for it, which might be the reason why it is not sold on every corner of the street. It might even be easier to get it in my country.





But as I said, I’m having a great time here! And I don’t feel to be in danger in any way. I think Colombia can be a fantastic country to travel around in, as I hear all around me from people who did. Many places are safe to go, and as I hear the safety is increasing by the day. The government is actively trying to secure the country, and it seems they are having success. As long as you know where to go, my guess is you can have a great time here. And there’s not a lot of tourists here!





Unfortunately I won’t be traveling much more in Colombia, and until now only been in two big cities: Bogota and Cali. So I can’t tell you much about the beauty of nature of Colombia.



In Bogota I was walking in this touristic place called Montserrat, which gives a splendid view of the 8 million people big city. I bumped into Carlos, a student from Bogota, who was just showing around the city to Maria, who lives in Sao Paulo, Brazil. Carlos invited me to join, and the next three days we hang out and saw many places in and around Bogota, at day and night. Lucas (Bello Horizonte) joined as well, and I thank him for advising me this two week itinerary through the south of Brazil. Carlos showed us his university in Bogota, which is the best looking university I've ever seen. We also met up with the parents and grandmother of Carlos. We had lunch, and I still have to get used to the gigantic lunches people eat here in Colombia. Dinner, on the other hand, is often forgotten.





Right now I’m in Cali, and spending here quite some time already. Not that the city is so nice. I’m staying in a hostel in a nice park with a view on the city, but you won’t like the center of the city very much. Today I was talking with my hostel owner, being French, and today he walks around in his pajama or something. He just tried to put a punaise (that’s both a French and Dutch word, no clue what’s the English) into the wall, but instead the punaise hit the water pipe. I learned that here, water pipes can break when it’s touched by a punaise.





So I like Cali for the people I’ve met. I’m mainly hanging around with Lorena, who conveniently lives near the center and near my hostel, and less conveniently always goes places that are at least an hour traveling by bus. Of course, I just follow. Last week this World Salsa Festival took place in the city. I’ve had some lessons too. I think a need a few thousand private lessons more to get something done.

I'm gonna get some coffee now. Hope you enjoyed it!