tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51926512189618157122024-03-12T21:08:53.673-07:00Männid kastanisAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-31749757655473320132018-04-18T05:56:00.000-07:002018-04-23T02:09:40.632-07:00The continent didn't want to let go of us a.k.a Arriving back home<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaaVbkPkVcKfyZByWvzLH2zFwTd7z2_XIZzhJq4I9pRDKCa_Te9RzTeq4_u5VORNKpplUz9IgwmZNPj5TUIk9_8X6YWrSOf_C85jQU52hh_LRV4ZMkLovG3vGM9EgzbV7W-AsmG4Ro33Q/s1600/DSC_0100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaaVbkPkVcKfyZByWvzLH2zFwTd7z2_XIZzhJq4I9pRDKCa_Te9RzTeq4_u5VORNKpplUz9IgwmZNPj5TUIk9_8X6YWrSOf_C85jQU52hh_LRV4ZMkLovG3vGM9EgzbV7W-AsmG4Ro33Q/s640/DSC_0100.JPG" width="360" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">Actually leaving my parents' house on this picture because we don't have any pictures of arriving (we arrived in different airports at different times)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">At
the time of writing the last post, we had already had our first
obstacles on the journey back which we thought that we had tackled as
best as we could. What was about to follow was something that we
simply couldn't have predicted. It seemed as it either the American
continent didn't want to let go of us or the European continent was
not yet ready to receive us back. Or maybe we had hurt the feelings
of Europe by staying away for a total of 21 months.</span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">Taganga, where we started encountering our problems in leaving the continent</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">We
were in Taganga (North of Colombia, on the Caribbean coast. A small
fishing village invaded by tourists) with the purpose of having a
week of rest and selling our motorbike. We had already bought our
tickets back to Estonia and didn't have much worries in our head.
Most if the flights going from Colombia to Europe fly through the
USA. So after a bit if research and finding out that Estonia is part
of the visa-waiver program we did not think twice before buying our
tickets through Miami and Providence. The visa-waiver program means
that even though you don't need a visa, you can apply for an ESTA
online, which is basically a fast and easy online permission to enter
the USA for tourism or transit reasons (yes. you still need it even
if you don't leave the airport) easy enough right? Well apparently
not.</span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">Selling our bike</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">We
applied for ESTA online and being from the Almighty Leader of the
Free world (can I please laugh), it demanded some pretty specific
information. I filled out most of it (didn't give them my social
media accounts that they also asked for) while Erik was a bit more
reluctant and filled out only the required fields. Because why should
he give them his former employer's phone number and address if it is
not compulsory.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">The
answer for the application came back within minutes and as it turned
out, I had been granted the permission to fly through the great US of
A but Erik had not. So at this point we (he) had two options. The
first option was to go to Bogota right away (a 16-hour busride) to
try and apply for a visa. That option would have meant that we
wouldn't have sold our motorbike, would have had to pay for the visa
even before finding out if there was a visa-interview time available
and then they still would have had 60 days to decide whether they
would give it to him or not. So wasting all that money and still
probably not getting the visa on time and having to buy a new ticket
(so actually probably spending double the money). The second option
was to spend the same sum as the visa-hustle would have taken us and
just buy a ticket that doesn't fly through the US. Which is what we
did and got a ticket from Bogota through Mexico (I was still flying
out from Medellin).</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">So
we stayed in Taganga and and extraordinary thing happened. We were in
the only club-like establishment that this little town has when
during a casual conversation (in Spanish) a girl asked Erik where he
was from. Erik's answer left the girl with such a surprised
expression and open mouth that we were both quickly weighing the
options in our head: is she Latvian? is she Finnish? But what had
happened was something that we had completely given up hope for. We
actually met another Estonian in South-America. Less that two weeks
before leaving the continent it finally happened :D So we could
actually celebrate my birthday speaking (part of the night) in our
own language. I just thought I'd bring out one positive thing about
our final weeks before I go on to the obstacles thrown in our way. We
actually did have a good time as well and did end up going to the
beach almost every day. Something that we hadn't done the whole trip.</span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS62tWajnxaZTb2URog03tYDJ0GVrpt_x4fKyPAv9UpB_xumiRm8bkg75KcjWo0m8_Kt9AVeYIp9k2JZMDvvqbeweUfYVH5tjzgD87QVaxfuRF03PviE2LtMRzTfzUFX08EQNgbYdzHqU/s1600/IMG_20180325_021143_HHT.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS62tWajnxaZTb2URog03tYDJ0GVrpt_x4fKyPAv9UpB_xumiRm8bkg75KcjWo0m8_Kt9AVeYIp9k2JZMDvvqbeweUfYVH5tjzgD87QVaxfuRF03PviE2LtMRzTfzUFX08EQNgbYdzHqU/s640/IMG_20180325_021143_HHT.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">Three Estonians in one picture in Taganga</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">Since
I had not been to Bogota yet and had kind of developed an obsession
of finding a nice warm poncho (so many cool ones in Bolivia and Peru,
only very thin warm-weather ones in Colombia so far) then we
attempted to buy two plane tickets to the cool and mountainous
capital of the country. That turned out as expected - the web page
announced that the "payment was not received" followed by
"the booking is canceled" but when I decided to check my
bank account on a hunch, the money had disappeared. I, of course,
sent them an e-mail trying find an answer. They managed to send me an
electronic, automated reply three days later. Another few days later
I was sent a form that I had to fill out with exactly the same
information that I had already given them. They literally didn't ask
anything that I had already told them. I sent the filled-out form
back to them almost immediately and have been waiting for either a
refund or a reply for six days already. Customer help my a**. If
possible, avoid VivaColombia, because I later found out that they are
known for causing problems. (after all the hustle, did manage to get
the money back)</span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH9C52UyG0Sa1v8Qvk0IITR8XvAVcTfwj8ZivM77VzhqYBRmSIVKr4ryRzr_8PNlUbWqP86dxodCWVEqMT9txXLwAPdK7KcTKLZ4vAcxURYc6wncgdRvrULTIWlxsKEG3t0xNLmu6Qe5w/s1600/IMG_20180326_224414.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH9C52UyG0Sa1v8Qvk0IITR8XvAVcTfwj8ZivM77VzhqYBRmSIVKr4ryRzr_8PNlUbWqP86dxodCWVEqMT9txXLwAPdK7KcTKLZ4vAcxURYc6wncgdRvrULTIWlxsKEG3t0xNLmu6Qe5w/s640/IMG_20180326_224414.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">Dancing on the bar did occur at my birthday party. Luckily Erik\s broken phone is hiding the rest of the pictures :D</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">With
that much money lost already I decided to go straight to Medellin to
wait for my flight. Now of course the trouble didn't stop there. When
Erik was trying to take his flight from Bogota, it was canceled with
not much information given for a very long time. When they finally
git him to Cancun (almost a day later), with a promise if a new
ticket to Manchester it turned out that they were not exactly keen on
keeping their word. With a lot if hustle, he did finally make it to
Manchester (kiwi. com does keep its promise and gets you to the
destination and even covered some food and accommodation so another
tip – feel free to trust them. They actually do keep their
promises) it was almost two days later. He also managed to drown his
phone in the hotel that kiwi had given him for one night and they
threatened to send his last plane to Riga instead of Tallinn because
of extremely thick fog (which they had done to all the morning
flights arriving in Tallinn) It took him “only” 5,5 days but he
did finally make it back to Estonia. </span></span>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">When
Erik had just finished arguing with different airport officials and
gotten a ticket to Manchester, I reached the airport in Medellin.
They scanned my passport through, immediately announced that "you
will not be able to fly through the US. not with us, not with anyone
else". They were unable to give any explanation but "the US
immigration has decided not to let you fly through" and "you
have to go to the embassy in Bogota to find out any information".
On the ESTA page, I still had "application approved" so I
refused to leave and demanded to see a supervisor. The supervisor
came, asked me quite a few questions, spent half an hour on the phone
with someone (presumably the US immigration office) but I finally got
on the plane.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">My
journey back was actually quite uneventful. They only confiscated all
my palosanto because apparently it was a threat to the nature of US,
when I carried it through their third-world-country airport.
Colombian and Mexican airports had functioning wifi. Miami and
Providence airports did not.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">On
the second night back home my mother came into my room and said “I
have someone in my ear. Come with me”. I got handed a pair of
tweezers in the bathroom and the chase begun. I managed to catch a
1-2mm black little insect from inside my mother's ear. Unfortunately
I didn't get a good and long look at it because when I caught it, it
was not very securely held with my tool, so I had an immediate
reaction of running the water tap and sticking the visitor under the
running water. </span></span>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">A few weeks earlier (if I should guess then since the night in
Popayan when we didn't get into our hotel for the night and ended up
sleeping in tall grass next to a park), I had had a tickly feeling in
my ear. I even mentioned to Erik after seeing that one of our friends
had caught an insect under his skin that “I should get a thorough
check-up when we get back because I have a paranoia that there is
someone living in my ear”. Although I did say that I was always
quite convinced that I had caught a cold or something like that. But
coming back to the moment of discovery, I still had a couple of hours
to wait until the morning (my mother is a doctor and actually shares
the cabinet with a nose-throat/ear doctor) and my mothers “Let's go
and sleep some more before morning” wasn't very convincing. Instead
I spent the remaining hours trying to google about insects in ears,
but the closest thing that I found were videos of an Indian woman who
had a spider pulled out of her ear. So I had these horror-film
scenarios running through my head, with a swarming nest in my head
with tunnels going into my brain and so on. But after all the tests
(including a small microscope in my ear and a pressure test) the
doctor concluded that even if there was something before, then my now
it is gone and there are also absolutely no signs of anyone moving
past my eardrum (the pressure test showed that) in the past few
months at least. </span></span>
</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0U8feETfboWPeyGzkPCb5CBdMO4ICcr4r4Xk1NSu-QB9ITc_HNnm8RrpoAt-h6EW9d9gJESaEt7BHtq2FFAQkr7l0ihtRWSBaZcLaOlvP_LsdNkcVZhJk-kFoyFUD551oCWoe8tfU8h8/s1600/DSC_0097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0U8feETfboWPeyGzkPCb5CBdMO4ICcr4r4Xk1NSu-QB9ITc_HNnm8RrpoAt-h6EW9d9gJESaEt7BHtq2FFAQkr7l0ihtRWSBaZcLaOlvP_LsdNkcVZhJk-kFoyFUD551oCWoe8tfU8h8/s640/DSC_0097.JPG" width="360" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">My "little" sister and brother</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhevM7_Vf7OTSjeKIhfGET5W6MSm69to8Q5iX2evxKPeGj5g5hrNzFVSjVIz6ACWtaV1npYg9Hp02t2uFVPQRq4IfyiD0TV7hdRKieRHyAZFlSHfzlznbkgRFRHclT7fdsowGUksjKrXb0/s1600/DSC_0087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhevM7_Vf7OTSjeKIhfGET5W6MSm69to8Q5iX2evxKPeGj5g5hrNzFVSjVIz6ACWtaV1npYg9Hp02t2uFVPQRq4IfyiD0TV7hdRKieRHyAZFlSHfzlznbkgRFRHclT7fdsowGUksjKrXb0/s640/DSC_0087.JPG" width="360" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">Had to pose for many pictures before we were allowed to leave Parnu</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbx4wa1-vr77CoKg-PvgcYUDWvPnyiqfZDgdWt9iSaLF68yGOQp3hbsTxD53LApGoTrGflniF-enq9s-HtnyKi17IqyB49OIOIkkNoBSzCnZaEVbCNqWY1AA8Ec_o2989-Nr4pu_YCL7I/s1600/IMG_20180407_213446_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbx4wa1-vr77CoKg-PvgcYUDWvPnyiqfZDgdWt9iSaLF68yGOQp3hbsTxD53LApGoTrGflniF-enq9s-HtnyKi17IqyB49OIOIkkNoBSzCnZaEVbCNqWY1AA8Ec_o2989-Nr4pu_YCL7I/s640/IMG_20180407_213446_1.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">My mother was in a happy mood :D</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAn9-0wmjo4bcCd7YcjSZJGK7s33iZgFu13M8SmBazElPZjlMIoXVgqyZ1k78alwfv8vE1q5mHU6Rxod_9dUhL5aVPOFuxF0y7KefNT52EIzZPhh__m4F0yvjNPuxAL1N7ZKF0knoGYNk/s1600/IMG_20180407_191430.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAn9-0wmjo4bcCd7YcjSZJGK7s33iZgFu13M8SmBazElPZjlMIoXVgqyZ1k78alwfv8vE1q5mHU6Rxod_9dUhL5aVPOFuxF0y7KefNT52EIzZPhh__m4F0yvjNPuxAL1N7ZKF0knoGYNk/s640/IMG_20180407_191430.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">A big part of the family</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">I
spent a few days in Parnu, visiting my parents, who had organised a
birthday party as well, as I wanted to see all the relatives and
friends of family and they wanted to see us as well. It is easier to
do the first meeting with a big group. Since we are only renting a
small room in Tartu at the moment, we are meeting all our friends
one-by-one which is better because we can actually talk to the one or
two people more but it is also tiring as we are meeting someone
almost every day. We are both also trying to find a job as the
mishaps on our way back drained us of a big portion of the money that
we intended to use for living in Estonia. Actually Erik already found
a job but I haven't found anything yet.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">Maybe
I am being a bit picky but I really want to find something that I
could enjoy doing for the next couple of years at least so I don't
want to settle for anything less than what I am looking for. It is
made harder because I am not entirely sure what I want to do. At the
moment I don't see myself going back to a big public school for
several reasons. The biggest being that I believe that Estonian
educational system is a bit too fixated on learning grammar and
instead of testing and ranking students all the time and giving too
much attention to grammar, the students are not developing to be as
good and confident speakers as they have the potential to. Other
reasons are not wanting to be in the same classroom five days a week
and not wanting by schedule to be that determined by the schoolbell
ringing in my ears. I would still love to work with young people and
language but I am hoping to find something where all my international
experiences would be useful (I have visited all the continents by
now). So if anyone has any organizations in mind, let me know. They
don't have to be looking for a worker either, I would contact them
anyways.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">So
what about first impressions since coming back to Estonia?</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">*the
first time I felt warm water coming out of a tap, I almost jumped
back. For nine months, the only place you SOMETIMES encountered warm
water was in the shower. Even if you did have the electrical warm
water shower, it was occasionally a good wake up call, when the tap
electrocuted you every time you touched it.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">*I
thought I would blend in a bit more, given that I now have a similar
skin color to the locals but not really. Almost everyone is wearing
black or grey colors and I am still at least as colorful as before,
if not more :D</span></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWCG0tnX9KE_VxDEkLBRxPl9zuDUxevc2HOH8PvLH-AGqkN0z71QIQXtv4lrSuTlRyqUxgp-CKQ6FqvbPjaHZrppjx9iDopAkV6ofvP3edLE4ogmuSuwA49QqcIRuo4y8nB7lONbfwWmA/s1600/IMG_20180405_103613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWCG0tnX9KE_VxDEkLBRxPl9zuDUxevc2HOH8PvLH-AGqkN0z71QIQXtv4lrSuTlRyqUxgp-CKQ6FqvbPjaHZrppjx9iDopAkV6ofvP3edLE4ogmuSuwA49QqcIRuo4y8nB7lONbfwWmA/s640/IMG_20180405_103613.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">First meal: buckwheat, black bread, kefir and sour cream</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkMcDwW_OlKHVSoZaSn3s0pCyLoccfC3b2xzNjuC7HZIl9_z8caP5I5TyPMbz756qqvV8TWwTgItR3fmdz8Oi_9cP_2YtZQGMmH-ePEmHNMoa3LTYf_e9ybde6Pn3B7GKx4UOrnM1S_pE/s1600/IMG_20180405_103340.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkMcDwW_OlKHVSoZaSn3s0pCyLoccfC3b2xzNjuC7HZIl9_z8caP5I5TyPMbz756qqvV8TWwTgItR3fmdz8Oi_9cP_2YtZQGMmH-ePEmHNMoa3LTYf_e9ybde6Pn3B7GKx4UOrnM1S_pE/s640/IMG_20180405_103340.jpg" width="480" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">...and more sour cream. Estonian sour cream is definitely the best. One thing that I didn't have false memories of</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0lHTdxqiAuPTpqvWKlAY5yke-eWElU9cF2jn4YVDZYBJGveLWtxxuexC6hnIujrU14jqjmkDV_YupeZ5zIOApxEzT50_CLJNhcu5DLkZLcqvdmZWdTnaeh-DJrv6m-heR5bOQjgfHzyM/s1600/IMG_20180405_100512.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0lHTdxqiAuPTpqvWKlAY5yke-eWElU9cF2jn4YVDZYBJGveLWtxxuexC6hnIujrU14jqjmkDV_YupeZ5zIOApxEzT50_CLJNhcu5DLkZLcqvdmZWdTnaeh-DJrv6m-heR5bOQjgfHzyM/s640/IMG_20180405_100512.jpg" width="360" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">Parents' fridge. A picture on the first day - look at all this food! :D</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">*The
other day we were driving past the most popular place where Estonians
go to downhillski or snowboard. When Erik finished the sentence “So
I guess that there is Kuutse mountain” we both looked at each other
and started laughing. Although the sentence was not meant like that
(to mock anything) it feels really strange to call any of these bumps
in Estonia “mountains”. The highest point of Estonia is 317m from
sea level, the highest we reached with our motorbike was 4600m. We
had a half-kilometre drop next to the road more than once or twice or
ten times. Estonia is so sweet and small.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">*It
is true that you could eat much cheaper in colombia, for example,
than you can is Estonia. But in Colombia it meant eating rice with a
little salad and meat. Even if you found a big supermarket, you
usually just had a lot of the same thing, sometimes by a different
company. And if you wanted to have anything different, then the
prices were ridiculously high. Over here, I can spend an hour in a
grocery store, exploring all the interesting things. You should see
the selection of cheese! And so much ready-made stuff (don't really
buy this stuff often. Maybe once a week but it is so good that you
have choice to buy something when you really don't have to time or
the energy to cook and can't afford a restaurant).</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">*The
spring is here but the leaves are not here yet. So it is strange to
see how empty and bare everything is. Strange to see through bushes
and trees.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">*The
technological advancement is loco. I only need my smartphone and I
have already done all my banking or other legal stuff. It takes me a
minute (maybe two the first time) to transfer money or check if I
have a valid medical check-up for my drivers license. And it is much
cheaper as well. I managed to get a deal where I pay 2.5 euros to get
a deal for my phone with 15gb of internet, 1000min of calls and 1200
messages. Beat that.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">*For
the last ten months my only electronic device was my phone (so all
the texts from South America were also written on that). When I got
back, it took me 1,5 weeks before I discovered that “Hmm... maybe I
can open my Facebook in the computer as well”. But now that I did
switch over (typing this text on a laptop already), I think I will
get used to it quite fast.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">*It
feels wonderful to have a home, although we are not at our home yet,
but are renting a room for two months until we can get to our home.
But just the feeling of not having to pack and unpack your stuff
every day. Wearing a new pair of underwear every single day is a
luxury. Having a frying pan that doesn't decide for you that “Nope.
You are not making an omelet today. You are making scrambled eggs”
(every single frying pan in the hostels looked like it had been used
to hit nails into the wall)</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">*Walking
on the streets and seeing familiar faces. My face lights up even when
I see a familiar bum begging money on the street :D And having actual
friends is a luxury. Some have moved on, some have actually done
something with their lives, some are still the same, some think they
have gone somewhere with their lives and feel like they are better
than the others because of that... we still have to figure out where
we belong. But before we begin figuring that out, the first aim is to
meet all the ones who want to meet us.</span></span></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">*Dressing
for the weather is impossible. It was 20 degrees one day, then
snowing on the other. You go out and it looks like autumn and then it
turns into Spring. Then you enter a bus and it is so unbelievably hot
that I don't understand how people can ride them without taking all
their clothes off.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">*The cars stop to let you cross the road. The pedestrians actually have some rights in this part of the world - like a right to exist, live and even cross the road. I usually stop to let the cars pass in front of the pedestrian crossings and then I am surprised when the cars actually stop.</span></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy8nDSQrBDnohpcaBzItUCv6hoNLfeRTEDOGD5HZGaVjTaeJq_i4wYOLp7_uTnC8qE0c2jaVwiaQZcI0eqSSHMVEC4iGORVfib3wfle0V2sQ7_wRjM5lITIE8AHQ-8UL-o6YUqJB2u8CM/s1600/IMG_20180411_172155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy8nDSQrBDnohpcaBzItUCv6hoNLfeRTEDOGD5HZGaVjTaeJq_i4wYOLp7_uTnC8qE0c2jaVwiaQZcI0eqSSHMVEC4iGORVfib3wfle0V2sQ7_wRjM5lITIE8AHQ-8UL-o6YUqJB2u8CM/s640/IMG_20180411_172155.jpg" width="360" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">Our house for the next two months and our new ride. A bit more comfortable than Starcraft</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: white;"><br /></span>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQqPpLdfrizs9XejrTchL4V341hHjVyfmg3wrED57RLVbtjZVwLyORk0y2NeL7KTnJxXZGzC4r-4BuX3Hh6UFy-6kYbCfyMAqnSWRgm2I-apfD3wA2kcZk6fXqi-rkEnLq95ipHx6hj8/s1600/IMG_20180406_143500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQqPpLdfrizs9XejrTchL4V341hHjVyfmg3wrED57RLVbtjZVwLyORk0y2NeL7KTnJxXZGzC4r-4BuX3Hh6UFy-6kYbCfyMAqnSWRgm2I-apfD3wA2kcZk6fXqi-rkEnLq95ipHx6hj8/s640/IMG_20180406_143500.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">Snow was threatening to cover the ground again</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMKpTEwixWO2h66q2BB3EXhvM9xtrAG0rhkRos1i5b95rF255MEfK5J92OO7k17J8KiiPK4rpNegt13De4Cy91lcoyp2UncJKLNSKxHfUy0edmrMHOF2TVrh7TVUOJ2SqjGvYu9Mt_ZJY/s1600/IMG_20180412_171803.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMKpTEwixWO2h66q2BB3EXhvM9xtrAG0rhkRos1i5b95rF255MEfK5J92OO7k17J8KiiPK4rpNegt13De4Cy91lcoyp2UncJKLNSKxHfUy0edmrMHOF2TVrh7TVUOJ2SqjGvYu9Mt_ZJY/s640/IMG_20180412_171803.jpg" width="360" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">New wall-art in Tartu</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoOPh0Th_QgjXa6rfqwdft411h-8nWS-qwipGtn7QVsQTVb8ooHLQX5Z9KWSxY4WD29xugCFVMj84cZ0ipq-Vkr7H2Fp2L94m3SiD2QdVrViiNWdi1njYiOpGXryFGB4xK4FhH1Ff4RNo/s1600/IMG_20180418_130018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoOPh0Th_QgjXa6rfqwdft411h-8nWS-qwipGtn7QVsQTVb8ooHLQX5Z9KWSxY4WD29xugCFVMj84cZ0ipq-Vkr7H2Fp2L94m3SiD2QdVrViiNWdi1njYiOpGXryFGB4xK4FhH1Ff4RNo/s640/IMG_20180418_130018.jpg" width="360" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">And some new walkways</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1M02Fy3Ohb3o6G-SWgLMZBBh60_UxtnCbJGjCAbjwA4BeB1f_eV9W9ter1nLhgqjGcCg4gxwEJXF5Voyjdv5O6eOoMO84YP8saIXYJL5_HDEx__b-lCMfNzHwNp99pi4g-MKPuErPGgk/s1600/IMG_20180418_103720.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1M02Fy3Ohb3o6G-SWgLMZBBh60_UxtnCbJGjCAbjwA4BeB1f_eV9W9ter1nLhgqjGcCg4gxwEJXF5Voyjdv5O6eOoMO84YP8saIXYJL5_HDEx__b-lCMfNzHwNp99pi4g-MKPuErPGgk/s640/IMG_20180418_103720.jpg" width="360" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">Leaves are ready to come out</span></td></tr>
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<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">Don't
get me wrong. I do not regret any part of the trip that we did. We
had so many cool experiences that probably for the next months and
years to come, many of our stories will start with “This one time
in Bolivia/Paraguay/Peru/...”. And there are many to tell. So many
that already now we have forgotten and rediscovered some of them. We
have both grown as a person and learned a lot about ourselves and of
course about the world. But the last few months were very difficult
because we were physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted. Now
we just need to rest and process it all because this was not one
trip. This was ten different trips coming right one after the other.
So we are just really glad to be back home as well. But the
travel-bug is still within us, hibernating for a while now. Although
it already woke up last weekend when we visited Latvia :D</span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTFOJdu3XjboqIgFe29O7b6l0uPmWXWA5zfy0ZVqsZ-Jdjy3pCoouLX7xjqDxcXXM8jv4jV7IpRUN9QSmeikLoRFlEyacRFZ54gm-Ew0a_egXFKmM_xadOm5QN7coHLWLwV50zJMaL1hg/s1600/IMG_20180414_163451.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTFOJdu3XjboqIgFe29O7b6l0uPmWXWA5zfy0ZVqsZ-Jdjy3pCoouLX7xjqDxcXXM8jv4jV7IpRUN9QSmeikLoRFlEyacRFZ54gm-Ew0a_egXFKmM_xadOm5QN7coHLWLwV50zJMaL1hg/s640/IMG_20180414_163451.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: white;">Visited a Latvian castle. Half of it had been carried away in the soviet times</span></td></tr>
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<div class="western" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">I
have been writing in English so far so that the people that we met on
our way could also keep an eye on how far we have gotten and so on.
And I am definitely planning to make at least one more big post in
English about South-America, where I compare the countries and try to
make an overview of what is similar and what is different (tried to
find something like that before the beginning of this journey but
didn't find one). But after that... how many people are there, who
don't speak Estonian but would be interested in reading about my/our
doings in English? Please let me know under the comments of this post
or write to me on Facebook. If there are enough of you, I will
continue in English (probably if 5-10 say that they would keep on
reading, I would already write in English). If there is not much
interest, I will switch over to Estonian after the next post.</span></span></span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-22558943513394427262018-03-23T08:15:00.001-07:002018-04-16T01:24:03.462-07:00Exhausted in Colombia<br />
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So we are at the end of our trip now. We are more exhausted than ever and really are not interested in seeing any of the tourist attractions anymore. We have literally seen two sights in almost a month in Colombia. But at the same time I don't feel too guilty because you see a lot of things about a country also when you just travel through it. Right? (ok. so maybe I do feel just a tiny bit guilty at the same time).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Bx7VfOydo9-IVF-EPGVI-UflhmjQ3cYTwejDi_2c1TM1NWDE-v14EFx288b6NY2Rly4fFy3ydipVL2BaDeQUyiOMzvdOzHVGbQKeMaa2SDTHGZMuFs3JroO3B2hpdpwGMkjbQREo9os/s1600/IMG_20180221_122145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Bx7VfOydo9-IVF-EPGVI-UflhmjQ3cYTwejDi_2c1TM1NWDE-v14EFx288b6NY2Rly4fFy3ydipVL2BaDeQUyiOMzvdOzHVGbQKeMaa2SDTHGZMuFs3JroO3B2hpdpwGMkjbQREo9os/s640/IMG_20180221_122145.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Things are made harder by the fact that we never seem to really fit in. We have actually felt it for most of the time since the beginning of our trip but it wasn't untin now that we really started to understand the reason behind that.<br />
It has been impossible to find the people that we really want to chill out with and the problem lies within ourselves. We are finding ourselves in a limbo between a European traveler and a South-American traveler. We don't really 'click' with any of the backpackers and tourists. It is firstly because they have plans and itineraries and time limits and that spark in their eyes that wants to visit every attraction possible - we have seen so many that don't really have it in ourselves to be amazed about many things because "there have been many waterfalls that were much cooler and many cities much more picturesque". And that is not really the best attitude for traveling because there will always be "better" things, you should just appreciate the moment at hand. But mostly it is because they live in the hostels that you find on <a href="http://booking.com/">booking.com</a> or bookinghouse or whatever they use (and they only leave them to take part of their excursions), that they pre-book in advance without ever venturing to the local hostels (that usually don't have a web-page at all) . The problem with these places is that the rooms are so extremely overpriced compared to local prices (local place is 5-10 dollars for a private room, a gringo place 6-10 dollars for a dorm bed, <a href="tel:2530">25-30</a> euros for a private room in a "cheap" place) and the food is also at least double price (but not two times better). So we just refuse to stay in these places (everyone looks at us weirdly if we mention that the prices are too high. for them they are cheap. for us they are ridiculous). Plus these places also only allow you to consume beers bought from their bar (also 3x the price of the shop). I guess the poorer kind of European travelers just usually don't make it over the ocean and head to a cheaper areas of Europe. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiRHwV-Yot39Zqe-b0kMhgT6srtEuJj-EKb46vhyi6NyR18LsKEaWTNlMS6hCYC9kKYaEHvUDgHcsmsVnDUwrGtSeQdYc4U-Z73zYtmbRo6E_NegXMxsWkVOFCCvE0HPpZHsasWfO877o/s1600/IMG_20180224_152639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiRHwV-Yot39Zqe-b0kMhgT6srtEuJj-EKb46vhyi6NyR18LsKEaWTNlMS6hCYC9kKYaEHvUDgHcsmsVnDUwrGtSeQdYc4U-Z73zYtmbRo6E_NegXMxsWkVOFCCvE0HPpZHsasWfO877o/s640/IMG_20180224_152639.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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We have a lot more common ground with the young South-American travelers, but the problem is that as soon as they start speaking to each other we are out of the conversation because they start speaking Spanish way too fast and with way too much slang for us to understand (not blaming them. I wouldn't like speaking Estonian in slow-motion baby language for the whole evening either). Plus they never have money (they earn enough to survive every day and not a dime more by selling their handicraft or juggling on crossroads etc) so everything we buy goes to sharing between ten people (they share everything they have with us so it would be strange not to share back). It is fine short-term but long-term we end up spending as much as we would at the "gringo-places". We, of course, feel an immediate connection with other bike-travellers but they are definitely the richer kind (have brought their big and expensive touring bikes from Europe) plus you don't meet them that often. But with them, the difference in wealth doesn't matter that much because we have so many similar experiences to bond over with. </div>
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So with all that put together we are more tired of everything now than ever. And we usually still end up chilling with the Colombians and Argentinians. </div>
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Now getting to Colombia. Even though we had chosen the small jungle-border for entering the country, they weren't really impressed with us not having any legal documents (same old story). So even though we were officially already in Colombia, we drove back to Ecuador and had a notaries office write us a document for 20 dollars that said that we have all the rights for the bike. It was as simple as that. No problems entering colombia the next day. Should have done that ages ago. Like 12 000km ago. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc97CZrSZgqgJf-3U-v3BCRGUu6IsWHXVqV1pRDjz8LbyqDcHyVaPO7I6KNEHOJ5LBRdhKpastWqigOggpHmZCK2mvP_g0RjUPqSG3xFeUGc31i3Z4KWdLpQXYH9K4TT29gqPpFtRQ7wc/s1600/IMG_20180223_172019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc97CZrSZgqgJf-3U-v3BCRGUu6IsWHXVqV1pRDjz8LbyqDcHyVaPO7I6KNEHOJ5LBRdhKpastWqigOggpHmZCK2mvP_g0RjUPqSG3xFeUGc31i3Z4KWdLpQXYH9K4TT29gqPpFtRQ7wc/s640/IMG_20180223_172019.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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So yeah! In your face, everyone who were laughing at us six months ago when we told them in Brazil or Bolivia that we were going to Colombia on our bike. Ok, so actually we didn't have much faith in the possibility of that journey either in the beginning. I think Peru was the first place where we actually dared to hope that it is possible to make it to Colombia. And it was. </div>
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Colombia for me is kind of like a mix of Ecuador and Brazil. Colombians love to party and love their drinks and drugs. The party starts on Thursday and ends early on Monday morning. They also love colours - there are many brightly coloured houses, clothes and bright-coloured anything anywhere. It has a very wide variety of people from descendants of Spaniards to Indigenous to descendants of black slaves - so a really colorful mix of cultures and races. Colombians are well-known for their incredible friendliness and welcoming spirit. We have not felt it that strongly because we already felt it a lot (if not more) in Ecuador. And Ecuadorian people were calmer and more reasonable while being friendly. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEYtROE2frdJFxFylBbmGi6snhpSkkRnRA5hQ0LhcnUeLsnnfMYdXPscb3AevgSiqzjtmSplnmE4T5rdzFdzWG-TfOnTnWfM6gl3jmxj_UwAZ0TfUwYdaZ5EtB7o9MRufuyktd4WjmySE/s1600/received_10156878495677289.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEYtROE2frdJFxFylBbmGi6snhpSkkRnRA5hQ0LhcnUeLsnnfMYdXPscb3AevgSiqzjtmSplnmE4T5rdzFdzWG-TfOnTnWfM6gl3jmxj_UwAZ0TfUwYdaZ5EtB7o9MRufuyktd4WjmySE/s640/received_10156878495677289.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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So what have we been up to over here? <br />
We visited San Agustin, which is a small town in the mountains. It is known for its ancient sculptures, which we visited mostly because we found ourselves staying in the town for almost a week. Didn't regret going to the sculpture park though. They were actually quite cool, most depicting some deities with a monkey-like face. The oldest ones were up to six thousand years old but most of them "only" one or two thousand. There was even an ancient couple shagging :D</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVHgqE6MFD1OoZrF7jeGjQF_925YTnSTTAb0vPiW6GagX7syPurIJVRuQ3ylOe8eyjxKfk-UQou81g5yq0_NJOLdOkMrMjtf6k7RzNaCspVnKoeu6hG79HAtuKqgJO9jMNeVfcldPGiHA/s1600/received_10156878495802289.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVHgqE6MFD1OoZrF7jeGjQF_925YTnSTTAb0vPiW6GagX7syPurIJVRuQ3ylOe8eyjxKfk-UQou81g5yq0_NJOLdOkMrMjtf6k7RzNaCspVnKoeu6hG79HAtuKqgJO9jMNeVfcldPGiHA/s640/received_10156878495802289.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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One day in San Agustin I looked at <a href="http://maps.me/">maps.me</a> and decided to just walk down a road that I saw on the map close to our hostel that seemed to go over a river. Well, about a kilometer in, the road turned into a narrow track which lead to an edge of a steep river valley. The view was just breathtaking, especially because it was very unexpected. I had no idea that our hostel was so close to such a spectacular valley. But that made me think - there are thousands of places like that. And for me it seems like a totally random choice, which ones have been marked on the maps and tourist guides as attractions and which ones are totally unnoticed. The waterfalls that just exist by the side of the road, with no name or any attention would be the biggest tourist attractions in another place (in Estonia for example). Thanks to that train of thought I know that our lack of visiting many of the "official attractions" really hasn't deprived us of much. as we have found heaps of breathtaking places just because we venture to unknown places on our bike. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQxrsRBFkLQTD76O4QXbKStmvXz3mf3sPZ-1TX3NwqNFI4RIRBUHq43VVVIklS0kmYZJ3TVEP9miGT-Att_2Dxg5uErAExUTqbzBE6RFEo7ZJDg9CaCPFgpvmKLQpA9qjrR8OBx9epR2I/s1600/IMG_20180228_161548.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQxrsRBFkLQTD76O4QXbKStmvXz3mf3sPZ-1TX3NwqNFI4RIRBUHq43VVVIklS0kmYZJ3TVEP9miGT-Att_2Dxg5uErAExUTqbzBE6RFEo7ZJDg9CaCPFgpvmKLQpA9qjrR8OBx9epR2I/s640/IMG_20180228_161548.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Accidentally found a view</td></tr>
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To continue our way we had to take a road that had 50km of the most horrible gravel in the middle of it. Most of it looked like it was old bricks kind of broken into pieces. Impossible to drive faster than 15-20kmph. The road led us to Popayan, which is a town on our way with almost all houses painted white and colonial-style. So the town itself was quite nice. Unfortunately the brightest memory of the town was not getting back into our hostel at night. So we ended up sleeping in long grass by a park and were woken up by rain. As a result, for about two weeks after that I was ill as well. It is strange to have a cold and a fever in a hot country, you can't really always feel the fever but just the out-of-breathness and chills. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1zWeW2y6QMYRUyn5tph_G6Td2jfT1j-2pckTvlHh29f1BNFSdSlHgRNd4rg9cunEWy3DX7s8Z_BvM9G-zIrNPbE1RhitjPLL-562YNJgGdSJAbbV2RbootQPncCq_5g7P_2WqWZMCl9Y/s1600/IMG_20180313_163856.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1zWeW2y6QMYRUyn5tph_G6Td2jfT1j-2pckTvlHh29f1BNFSdSlHgRNd4rg9cunEWy3DX7s8Z_BvM9G-zIrNPbE1RhitjPLL-562YNJgGdSJAbbV2RbootQPncCq_5g7P_2WqWZMCl9Y/s640/IMG_20180313_163856.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of those waterfalls that was way too unimpressive for people to appreciate </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsxEu7rT_wjw5r0tKZOMdMeBpIibeSJ_DAJrDQTSHTuTlvcCOn0Si0gqMRbpbYV9LMqZxS2k1J4KoB_4a0jBtNRVb7UnTLXDzdvNyyBc6BV5GLkfpyX4-mCI9uQpFPb3EYdr67v_mNkvI/s1600/IMG_20180314_090418.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsxEu7rT_wjw5r0tKZOMdMeBpIibeSJ_DAJrDQTSHTuTlvcCOn0Si0gqMRbpbYV9LMqZxS2k1J4KoB_4a0jBtNRVb7UnTLXDzdvNyyBc6BV5GLkfpyX4-mCI9uQpFPb3EYdr67v_mNkvI/s640/IMG_20180314_090418.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We also stopped in Cali for two nights but didn't even go to the center of the city. One of the reasons was probably because the traffic suddenly became horrible again. The buses and taxis are the worst. They just randomly stop in front of you, with no warning at all and block up the whole road. I think that they intentionally want to be assholes because to me it seems like a special effort to park diagonally across the road to block as many lanes as possible. Normal people are not that inconsiderate of other people. Unless you are a South-American. Then taking other people into consideration isn't even something that would cross your mind. (the friends that I have made in this continent AND are actually capable of reading this text, probably don't belong to that group, because with the language, they usually have obtained some understanding also of how the English-speaking world sees the world and a bit of the values as well) </div>
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Salento was also a sweet little town, very colorful and in a picturesque place in the muddle of valleys and hills. When we had seen enough of the brightly-colored houses we decided that we kind of have to go to the national park close-by as well to see a 'palm-forest'. A 'forest' is maybe a bit too flattering of a name for the sparsely located palm trees. But the views were quite spectacular and the palms were the tallest that I have ever seen. Two tourist attractions in Colombia. Check. More than enough. (actually if we count in the towns themselves then we have visited more).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5zqhuxAPctQZbjdr01Agpx-ZLVjU-Mf5Or1Ldy98myi5a3d6rLOfpvds68qL79jSDYyKF2-JHipX6Cz2fHfpmG55H6AaGCJkgzjDJrWaC0gTSa7f802l6lqFn4c4z_u977EeitD9D58o/s1600/IMG_20180306_121943.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5zqhuxAPctQZbjdr01Agpx-ZLVjU-Mf5Or1Ldy98myi5a3d6rLOfpvds68qL79jSDYyKF2-JHipX6Cz2fHfpmG55H6AaGCJkgzjDJrWaC0gTSa7f802l6lqFn4c4z_u977EeitD9D58o/s640/IMG_20180306_121943.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiCXJTu37GPkrjsgGq9rnWnkq1eUImM8hSPDUWR2RHjcNrEiUY1QNcKfnBLCzhghpcTnWG3qdpqIbngrH0R0y1XhGxsuqkgTLXtpTYfhNIHImKLnb2oM06fDlBy8wEdrRU4fefavSURoA/s1600/IMG_20180307_115458.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiCXJTu37GPkrjsgGq9rnWnkq1eUImM8hSPDUWR2RHjcNrEiUY1QNcKfnBLCzhghpcTnWG3qdpqIbngrH0R0y1XhGxsuqkgTLXtpTYfhNIHImKLnb2oM06fDlBy8wEdrRU4fefavSURoA/s640/IMG_20180307_115458.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coffee plantations</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYok2lrcvaD5l7j4S8Q_w8qKcF2vt_o7sx0IqgbVtx6sGZjJMAyStFn3AVMIxnS8gJI2NRPS41KDzUuI33lklBOWLLK0D_sW9sR77jaNhC0Jjb0JYPvz91U31lFhePNrAihCsLck8im4Q/s1600/IMG_20180307_113118.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYok2lrcvaD5l7j4S8Q_w8qKcF2vt_o7sx0IqgbVtx6sGZjJMAyStFn3AVMIxnS8gJI2NRPS41KDzUuI33lklBOWLLK0D_sW9sR77jaNhC0Jjb0JYPvz91U31lFhePNrAihCsLck8im4Q/s640/IMG_20180307_113118.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tree is slightly taller than me... </td></tr>
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We also spent a few days in Medellin. Over there we even visited the center and used a cable car to try to go to a park on top of a hill (Medellin is very proud of its cable cars and advises all the tourists to take a ride). The top half of the cable cars was unfortunately closed for maintenance so we didn't actually get to the park. As a result we found ourselves in a less-than-nice neighborhood instead. Most of colombia has actually been pretty clean with very little trash on the ground. But if you accidentally make your way to the poorest barrios (neighborhoods) then the amount of trash and the smell are pretty horrible.</div>
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One night, when we expressed our disappointment in the most popular party-zone of Medellin (super high prices, music from each bar so loud thet we didn't even want to go close to them and drunk gringos everywhere) we were taken to an alternative party zone. It was the kind of place where you wouldn't wander even one bock into the sidestreets unless you have a trustworthy local with you. It was exactly like in some movies - gangs on streetcorner doing their drugdeals, prostitutes with extremely high heals and extremely big bottoms (I am still impressed that you can naturally have a butt that big :D), reggaeton blasting from every gangsta's car window, no cops to be seen anywhere. We were invited over to a crackhead's apartment for a visit as well. I just hope I didn't pick up a horrible disease from there when I tried to use the glogged toilet that had human feces lying around it.</div>
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It is astonishing how there can exist so big differences within the same city - the part for the rich and the gringos and the part for the poor people.</div>
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Our next aim was to make it to the Carribean coast and find a town to rest for a while. When we started reaching the coast we suddenly found ourselves in Africa. The reason is that the descendants of the African slaves have mostly made their life in this area. In the small towns that we drove through, I got a real feeling of being back in Kenya because of how the streets looked and also because 90% of the people looked totally and completely African(the rest of them were a mix of Hispanic and black).</div>
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We wanted to stop in Cartagena as well, as the old town looks very cool, being the second oldest Colonial town in the whole South America (colorful houses again but with much older style). But because we couldn't find a cheap hostel (didn't want to spend hours looking either as we were only going to stay for one night) and because motorbikes were not allowed in the whole island of the old town (cars are allowed though, for some reason) then we decided that if the town does not want us, we will not stay.</div>
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At the moment we have made it to Taganga, which used to be a small fishermen's town. Nowadays, a big part of it has been taken over by tourists. There is actually nothing special here (the beach is small and unimpressive, the streets are horrible dirt and the houses are not picturesque either) but it serves our purposes well, as it is less crowded and cheaper than Cartagena, plus the location of the town is pretty nice - it is nestled between some cliffs. And the sun sets directly into the sea between the cliffs that surround the bay... well not directly, it kind of fades away before it can touch the water, as it does in most places on this continent. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnMDj73sXRzOYkyW1ISwVXKHJlc_UvA2YC7XHzSAwxin3Q3BATt_p_1X3rGItRolAw2WFdTQ8VqDklzIdy3fATD2TFrew9L95jpgCifTT5HHDYs1n0kxLZWuElivD7BdLC_5NeaVG7Xv4/s1600/IMG_20180316_122339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnMDj73sXRzOYkyW1ISwVXKHJlc_UvA2YC7XHzSAwxin3Q3BATt_p_1X3rGItRolAw2WFdTQ8VqDklzIdy3fATD2TFrew9L95jpgCifTT5HHDYs1n0kxLZWuElivD7BdLC_5NeaVG7Xv4/s640/IMG_20180316_122339.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The town of Taganga</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgogmfH1U0FrshbHeqIrWUah8IAfaGj1YLUkRCZlQW_D-e6rDF_MiqLKTVds-8JhdfcaqLKVxZtOPDZzNS07cF7RctZ5D-6OuQ4hyphenhyphenHjDoayX5RBnBXpVdMyMZ76d3r6wiD0Bf70mDE3geo/s1600/IMG_20180318_175511.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgogmfH1U0FrshbHeqIrWUah8IAfaGj1YLUkRCZlQW_D-e6rDF_MiqLKTVds-8JhdfcaqLKVxZtOPDZzNS07cF7RctZ5D-6OuQ4hyphenhyphenHjDoayX5RBnBXpVdMyMZ76d3r6wiD0Bf70mDE3geo/s640/IMG_20180318_175511.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We are here to rest for a week or so, sell our bike if we can and just chill out. Fortunately there is enough of the local people left that you can get a cheap lunch from the side-streets and the town is small enough to walk everywhere. The plan is to chill on the beach and read a book and rest before heading back because after getting back to Estonia we should probably find jobs right away as we don't have much money left. So resting and doing nothing for one more time before coming back to Estonia and trying to sort all my life out.</div>
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Of course before we get to the sorting life out in Estonia we still have to make it to Medellin/Bogota for our flights back which will be several days of different airports and planes and security checks and so on. So after our vacation it is a total of at least a week of hustle and inconveniences. </div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-48641041708764017742018-02-21T13:56:00.003-08:002018-02-22T05:01:33.291-08:00Life in Ecuadorian jungle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD6otl7FL_8PVaMiWIvt9ixqQpoTbllsS_YI-RvBzXtF88Co7k8eURHYCd7pcAKZQDaaJPyf3fx6wI-JRP_xUoSkN1X7MXiVMHZepCV5l5sPMpfzZuJNunH9l49iPVr4vCqodrLoO95VQ/s1600/IMG_20180217_135214.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD6otl7FL_8PVaMiWIvt9ixqQpoTbllsS_YI-RvBzXtF88Co7k8eURHYCd7pcAKZQDaaJPyf3fx6wI-JRP_xUoSkN1X7MXiVMHZepCV5l5sPMpfzZuJNunH9l49iPVr4vCqodrLoO95VQ/s640/IMG_20180217_135214.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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When we got to the border of Ecuador, we were first directed to stand in a queue to get the exit-from-Peru stamp and then to stand at another one, even longer, to get the entry-to-Ecuador stamp, the officials literally sitting right next to each other, behind the same table. All that done, it was time to get our bike's papers sorted. The only problem was that the lady at the transportation office didn't even want to discuss the possibility to let in a Paraguayan motorbike with no proper paperwork. So we were officially in Ecuador and the bike was officially out of Peru but not allowed to enter Ecuador. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_uiZ5G6RVqjOmiGU55Wi5kCJCe0aEj1RDHaoBJwqGdQ-iJdVXb0ft-75FidI5AhZC74l3-DOATaYF00MIohKErysztrABLtP1ro9esIRRb8Sr7Ib4ULor2aF-A-lLNGJl2FxaBFRDE0/s1600/IMG_20180208_122840.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_uiZ5G6RVqjOmiGU55Wi5kCJCe0aEj1RDHaoBJwqGdQ-iJdVXb0ft-75FidI5AhZC74l3-DOATaYF00MIohKErysztrABLtP1ro9esIRRb8Sr7Ib4ULor2aF-A-lLNGJl2FxaBFRDE0/s640/IMG_20180208_122840.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what 6.50USD gets you in Ecuador (twotmeals and a beer) </td></tr>
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We spent about a minute discussing our options:<br />
a) skip Ecuador, go around it and enter Colombia directly - no roads between the two countries, only rivers, so a bit difficult <br />
b) go to another border crossing and try our luck there - but that would have meant waiting the two lines again (to exit Ecuador and enter Peru) and get the entrance papers for Peru for the bike again (slim chances at the other border crossing as well) <br />
c) sell the bike. to who? in the border zone? we are not legally allowed to sell it so doing it right under the eyes of border officers was probably not really a good idea<br />
d) drive into Ecuador and see how far we get. there is always a possibility to pay off the cops... <br />
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Naturally we chose the last option, because we save a lot of money by traveling that way (5 dollars buys us 300km) and we don't want to give up our freedom just jet. Not before we absolutely have to.<br />
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We passed quite a few different check-points during the weeks in Ecuador, including the transport-office one right after tho border, and one where they were confiscating motorbikes for lack of paperwork, but luckily we have either been waved pass or we have sneaked pass behind a truck/bus. The fragility of our situation did make us cross through the country in quite a straight line, in order to minimize our possibilities to encounter any more police checkpoints than we had to. <br />
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Back in Peru (a few weeks earlier), when our clutch's cable decided to break just as we were hitting the road out of town, we were lucky enough to meet a fellow motorbike enthusiast on his way home from Dakar (the famous desert rally). He leant us a helping hand and while he took Erik to buy the missing part, he also invited us over to his place in Ecuador. So his house in the town of Cuenca was where we were first headed after our illegal sneak-in. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ_C9KzMycH1LzUEe-5e7UCeGGWP8WWiekan4Sbd2NPOB3acLMeCpsJU6tlVK7cI6xyWjU497Lgn-su1nqv1OWbgh2ymHzUWSMFt03n0Vr5_uidFInKg4bsi5lWnlb1QOW_5-G7ryNol0/s1600/IMG_20180131_181247.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ_C9KzMycH1LzUEe-5e7UCeGGWP8WWiekan4Sbd2NPOB3acLMeCpsJU6tlVK7cI6xyWjU497Lgn-su1nqv1OWbgh2ymHzUWSMFt03n0Vr5_uidFInKg4bsi5lWnlb1QOW_5-G7ryNol0/s640/IMG_20180131_181247.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The centre if Cuenca was pretty hip</td></tr>
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On our way to Cuenca (climbing up to the mountains again of course) we found a fairytale land - everything was incredibly green, from the lush tropical forest near the coast to the field- and meadow covered hills. All were dotted with houses that were not all rich, but all taken-care-of (some paint in the last 10 years and quite neat) and the fields had white and black cows who looked like out of postcards. Higher in the mountains, there were white foamy clouds forming different shapes around us. In addition to that, the wind wasn't freezing cold even at <a href="tel:3500">3500</a>m, which was pretty nice. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everybody put their best clothes on to go to the elwctions</td></tr>
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And then we were welcomed to Cuenca which was like a breath of civilization and European culture. The feeling was further enforced by the fact that we were staying with a higher middle class family (cleaning lady/cook, collection of vintage motorcycles etc), who of course claimed to be middle class. We felt very welcomed and at home both at our place to stay and in the town itself. There were some alternative people in Cuenca, clean and modern supermarkets (of course we still could not find many things we were graving for, but a few basics) nice architecture and many people who had some level of English. <br />
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After pampering ourselves for a few days, we started heading towards the jungle town Puyo, where we had promised to become volunteers for a while through workaway to experience something new and cut our spending for a while as well. Of course we had some tourist-stuff to see on the way as well - the incan temple of Ingapirca and the town of Baños, where I made us climb on a top of a hill in search for a nice walk. I hoped that the hiking track would be sometimes upwards, sometimes level... but it turned out that every single step was so steep and up that we couldn't even properly walk on straight ground after all the climbing. But we found some more amazing views and a swing at the end of the world. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_27cscm3knRtn9hgEr9P5f_-eAkqCwYmLb82QGMKRtw_XHR3XcVaDMUz5CcohqfDTF3yYgzfTdT3hUN89jpeADkHvb3Ym_Lb1FIntzoIZrpP0XegvsWPJnCB3YqArD_lDi34mTSmcsCs/s1600/IMG_20180203_140849.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_27cscm3knRtn9hgEr9P5f_-eAkqCwYmLb82QGMKRtw_XHR3XcVaDMUz5CcohqfDTF3yYgzfTdT3hUN89jpeADkHvb3Ym_Lb1FIntzoIZrpP0XegvsWPJnCB3YqArD_lDi34mTSmcsCs/s640/IMG_20180203_140849.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ingapirca - an aincan temple</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BañosBis surrsurrounded by waterfalls</td></tr>
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After the touristy stuff, we made our way down from the mountains on the western side, where the Amazonian rainforest starts. We found the house that we were supposed to be starting our voluntary workers career and talking to one of the volunteers living there, discovered that the conditions of work and living were less than perfect, to say the least. There were two shacks with bunk beds in them for sleeping (not better than a tent), a gas stove to cook on, an outside shower with no hot water (pretty standard here) but the worst part was that there was even no electricity. And for having the privilege to use all these wonderful facilities, the owner of the place expected us to work five days a week, four hours a day without providing any food, drinking water or anything else. And the work itself wasn't even for some greater cause - it was just this lady's garden (if it was for some local community or nature restauration project etc. it would have been different) . She had actually written about the living conditions on her workaway profile but since she was the one who offered us the position, I only read through the text that she had written me about the job in her e-mail, where she had conveniently not mentioned that we won't get much back for our work. In addition to that, she had stopped answering my e-mails just after I had asked her "is there anything else we need to know about of bring with us?", which we assumed was because of a bad connection (she did have internet at her own house. and electricity) or being very busy. <br />
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So we weighed our options for about half an hour in front of her house (luckily she wasn't at home at that moment) and decided that we will have the same (or better) living conditions camping randomly by a river... and we don't have to work 20 hours a week for it. Besides, the cheap camping options around here cost 2,5 dollars per person per night and for that price you already get electricity, wifi, proper kitchen and sometimes even hot water. So we did something that neither of us have ever done before. We just turned around and ran away from the promise we had made. So much for our careers as volunteers. But sorry lady, you have to give at least something back. <br />
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Instead, we chose a random town on our way north to stay for a few days to rethink our life and make plans. When we settled in our little hostel (camping for 2,50) in a small town called Puerto Misahuallí, it turned out that we were only one day away from The Carnaval and of course we had chosen the most famous town for the carnaval in whole Ecuador. A reminder: we have a history during this trip of accidentally being at the place where masses of people gather during some important celebrations. So unknowingly we visited the Iguazu falls during the first weekend of school holidays (you actually had to fight for a spot to see the falls); Alto Paraiso in Brazil during some big long weekend holidays, (half of São Paolo had invaded that small town); Cuzco during Christmas and New Years (the Inca capital - most famous place in whole Peru to be for New Years); the small coastal town of Huanchaco just before the Pope's visit and now Puerto Misahuallí for the carnaval. <br />
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Since we had found a pretty nice place to stay, we decided take our curse as a blessing and stay for the carnaval. Now what exactly is the carnaval? The most famous ones are in Brazil - the Rio de Janero one, with all the semi-naked people dancing in a big parade. We had the parade as well, although it was pretty small (the whole town is about three streets wide in each direction) and well... not so naked or so Brazilian (Brazil = showing a lot of skin, big round buts with not much cover, glittering make up and exquisitely big fancy head dresses). Of course you had food stalls, farmers market, bands playing, people drinking and dancing, some competitions and many other ways to celebrate. But the main object of all the celebration seemed to be to make each other as wet, colorful and messy as possible.<br />
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I happened to be at the beach during the main day of the carnaval (the celebration goes on for four days) and during that time I saw people splashing each other with water (followed by pouring flour over people in some places), throwing eggs, spraying special carnaval foam on each other, smearing different colorful or shining powders on each other's faces, throwing eggs and so on. Of course I was a special target with my blonde hair and white skin. It was all fun for a few hours but after a while I grew tired of it. Plus my Colombian companions started to get excessively drunk and repetitive, so I headed back to hide in the hostel for the rest of the carnaval. I still have some blue in my hair as a reminder of the celebrations, which doesn't seem to wash out as easily as I expected. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgPeG93j5ldqHFweaUhC9dMA2JJ5pIWgaQspCNanncKoUikhL38orjopI5LrNFxAKjGEI-618cbpB2DzDGWiHNWXSJsvZ40w0DgeUTrKParx5gzUfkDjhBqsOLQ2UADDuOUkv-F3L-rOU/s1600/IMG_20180211_125038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgPeG93j5ldqHFweaUhC9dMA2JJ5pIWgaQspCNanncKoUikhL38orjopI5LrNFxAKjGEI-618cbpB2DzDGWiHNWXSJsvZ40w0DgeUTrKParx5gzUfkDjhBqsOLQ2UADDuOUkv-F3L-rOU/s640/IMG_20180211_125038.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqxKA9ZWj1Y3vvfVwtjCtyLVmlwjyQ38VjSRk5zFpE7a1l3OK1x6dzT5Mc_nS5JjJYJ5f1qHrqwY7dcdVtK3vrZw5R8H-TMsTBd7y-dTtE8Nny5LIK7FzSFnN7ipvjC-iV-F9jGYavCE/s1600/IMG_20180211_132853.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqxKA9ZWj1Y3vvfVwtjCtyLVmlwjyQ38VjSRk5zFpE7a1l3OK1x6dzT5Mc_nS5JjJYJ5f1qHrqwY7dcdVtK3vrZw5R8H-TMsTBd7y-dTtE8Nny5LIK7FzSFnN7ipvjC-iV-F9jGYavCE/s640/IMG_20180211_132853.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Next, we headed just 30km away from Misahuallí to visit a local guy that we had met during the carnaval. He lived at a house, right at the edge of a jungle, which they had once used for organising jungle adventure tours and some voluntary projects. The house was right next to a river, surrounded by lush plants of the jungle with drinking water coming straight from the ground. So we decided to do our voluntary work there instead, as we actually had our own room with electricity and everything, plus a nice crowd of people (a Spanish girl and two Argentinian guys also visiting and volunteering for a place to stay) and a really relaxing atmosphere. We took turns cooking and helped around in the garden or building a cabaña for an hour or two a day. <br />
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The difference of jungle and other climates is of course the humidity. So after washing our clothes we had to wait for four days until they actually got almost dry. And of course there are more insects - trying to get a grasshopper out of your bedroom with a body as long as your palm is quite a challenge and meeting a spider of the same size in the kitchen can be quite startling. And of course the closest shops (5km) don't sell things like cheese or sausage... and the choice of vegetables was limited to onion, potato, tomato and capsicum. And of course there is a lot of what you would get in a RAINforest during the RAINY season. My helmet started molding after being inside a house for three days even though half of the walls were made out of nets to make the house breathe more. Nothing was ever completely dry in the jungle. But all in all, it was a nice and relaxing time. The barefoot local jungle people chilling by the roads already started nodding to us and got used to us as well. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRDTKwDiOJJiDJFT5Ro9EAuD_IWmcqG93CfRL6UjlSXLxHhee_G-SB-U_gihwWMq739Wt5xNNakT76QBsUJs8QfzUBmWTdJU5ZgQt8dJTqcqzE7EE2GaESqVcjJilutURakSl9GwEsoI0/s1600/IMG_20180218_130946_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRDTKwDiOJJiDJFT5Ro9EAuD_IWmcqG93CfRL6UjlSXLxHhee_G-SB-U_gihwWMq739Wt5xNNakT76QBsUJs8QfzUBmWTdJU5ZgQt8dJTqcqzE7EE2GaESqVcjJilutURakSl9GwEsoI0/s640/IMG_20180218_130946_HDR.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQkTjvmpfnJ5XC14xdtk4I9iCIaDfFWTAORN_TqfggN1kawZYJ3ZPxASUHKKViwCMOKllR2uPRY6WaAJ-IwbXp27KC03IaIJ7nbp-tukjEQNhpixT73SCSyfVQmzayUOaLje843yhlCM/s1600/IMG_20180218_132359_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJQkTjvmpfnJ5XC14xdtk4I9iCIaDfFWTAORN_TqfggN1kawZYJ3ZPxASUHKKViwCMOKllR2uPRY6WaAJ-IwbXp27KC03IaIJ7nbp-tukjEQNhpixT73SCSyfVQmzayUOaLje843yhlCM/s640/IMG_20180218_132359_HDR.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTa7LlYwM1a1t5X8bbI1AYe1AZMGJr-zSxNPZv5CFYq9IWjXO9NTIOCbVJKTTOerRumq45sBYKp6Q3a7QFlC5fjXqzYQBias9RfpPgrOqjVsrpGzHj1l5HJgW4Ut_BcPSR0xlwcPoOY9c/s1600/IMG_20180219_132940.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTa7LlYwM1a1t5X8bbI1AYe1AZMGJr-zSxNPZv5CFYq9IWjXO9NTIOCbVJKTTOerRumq45sBYKp6Q3a7QFlC5fjXqzYQBias9RfpPgrOqjVsrpGzHj1l5HJgW4Ut_BcPSR0xlwcPoOY9c/s640/IMG_20180219_132940.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prices for gallon in USD</td></tr>
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Ecuador left us with quite pleasant memories - the friendliness of people was a whole different world compared to Bolivia or the south of Peru. We actually felt welcomed in Ecuador. 5 dollars worth of petrol bought us more than 300 km and everyone was happy to sell it to us (another reference to Bolivia). The food still has a lot of rice and chicken but you have also some choices with a sauce instead of just meat and some inventive ways of preparing things (like making a sauce out of vegetables and meat, plus I guess we are getting used to the rice as well. Although we still try to avoid it, if possible because we know that in most cases it is not avoidable anyway. <br />
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But the biggest difference is the traffic. In Ecuador, they have the 'give way' and 'stop' signs in front of roundabouts and big roads. Ok, they are still South-American, so they may not always follow it, but they have an understanding of the concept that "sometimes I am not the most important one; sometimes I really need to give way to the person on the other road". And that changes so much. The roundabouts actually work around here (without having to install traffic lights both before and in the middle if roundabouts) and when you are driving on a big road, cars are less likely to suddenly appear in front of you so that you have just a few meters to stop or dodge them (again: still happens, but about ten times less likely). <br />
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In addition, Ecuador has such a variety of different climates on a relatively small territory. They love to say that you can have a breakfast on the beach, a lunch in the mountains and the dinner in the jungle. It would be a lot of driving for one day, but it is true - it does serve many tastes. <br />
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With all these positive qualities put together, if anyone told me that I have to choose one South American country to live in, I would choose Ecuador without even thinking about it. <br />
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But I don't think I have appreciated Estonia as much as I do right now ever before. <br />
-we have the freedom and possibilities to travel<br />
-our bureaucracy has been made much easier thanks to all this e-riik network - the fact that you can do most procedures of government-related stuff over the internet. we took part in the last elections while in Brazil<br />
-The supermarkets have such a choice of food (although in Ecuador, you have limes the size of melons and fresh lemongrass growing in the garden). so easy<br />
-people are more educated and know something about the world. even the ones that aren't the smartest ones have some wider knowing that there is a world outside our country and it is <u>different</u><br />
-people dare to be different from others - a lot of alternative culture<br />
-the houses have to be pretty-damn-well-built to keep the cold out and have a heating system. Everywhere all over the world, in the "warm" countries, they have to put all their clothes on when it drops under 10 degrees because you can see through the houses. And chilly weather is not something that happens only rarely<br />
-people respect each other, privacy and each other's time more. promises are kept more</div>
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-many other things as well</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-45459342346571954152018-01-29T14:51:00.000-08:002018-01-31T07:59:37.273-08:00On the beach, off the beach<div dir="ltr">
In Lima we had been thinking about going to Huaraz, since there were some recommendations both from the internet and from people. But after some research we found out that the only activity around there were long hikes to see the mountains and snow. But since we had experienced our share of hight (Huaraz was on <a href="tel:4000">4000</a>m again) and were not very keen to hike such long distances to see mountains and snow (too many close encounters with them while crossing the mountains anyway) then we decided to skip it after all.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEHjOlxKJ-aRDBooP6zarFIGA_SybyWucjDOTTbZ9RhsrZKngNFQfkhIYLyK2jIfJQSmhO2vrsAFVajPNPgpgC0_y1YZtIoay5UoEJbfAT_amZqGVwt9o3KdEI7X4tghSkTuDXZPE5F-0/s1600/IMG_20180113_104548.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEHjOlxKJ-aRDBooP6zarFIGA_SybyWucjDOTTbZ9RhsrZKngNFQfkhIYLyK2jIfJQSmhO2vrsAFVajPNPgpgC0_y1YZtIoay5UoEJbfAT_amZqGVwt9o3KdEI7X4tghSkTuDXZPE5F-0/s640/IMG_20180113_104548.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Packing up camp after our private-beach camping</td></tr>
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Our first stop was an amazing beach that had no roads going towards it, but luckily the sand dunes were solid enough to ride on them. Have to stay that nestles between the cliffs, with young eagles practicing flying and only a couple of people the whole day, this was the best beach of this trip so far. The only downside was the wind that made it very difficult to make a bonfire (but we managed). </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8J1F8kzUzmzvy-2jrVpvE5l2LH8YMpGCG-Tt_NydzSzLM1MWJhE7TMHLbJtRaP4qRlq-wbGrIER__rsyij3GolNONwimHF_4FhpX6AHBS880aSo7BO0MUdr5u_creujIPjj6yRPPssKM/s1600/IMG_20180113_161240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8J1F8kzUzmzvy-2jrVpvE5l2LH8YMpGCG-Tt_NydzSzLM1MWJhE7TMHLbJtRaP4qRlq-wbGrIER__rsyij3GolNONwimHF_4FhpX6AHBS880aSo7BO0MUdr5u_creujIPjj6yRPPssKM/s640/IMG_20180113_161240.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The roads on the coast</td></tr>
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We headed up the coast still to reach Trujillo (actually the neighbouring smaller Huanchaco). The last few hundred kilometers or so we had noticed that there must be a hole in one of the seals of our engine (losing oil and a new sound) but we decided to ignore that until Huanchaco, as there really were no decent-sized towns on the way. Plus there were many warnings about armed robberies in the area between Lima and Trujillo in iOverlander (which caused one very paranoid camping between sugarcane fields to keep away from beach, where tourists would be expected to camp) so we held our breaths to make it without completely breaking down before the town we wanted to reach. </div>
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The moment <u>of</u> complete breakdown came exactly the moment when we reached the center of Huanchaco. There we discovered again our bad timing of arriving in this town because the pope was coming for a visit in a week. In Peru, it is a huge deal: there are posters and paintings everywhere welcoming the pope, there are special TV programs on constantly - all about the preparations and expectations etc; since the day he arrived there seems to be an almost round-the-clock special program on the Tv about it and people are traveling from all ends if the country to see him. So since this little town expected three million people (population of the town 40,000) to visit, the hotel prices were through the ceiling.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi336qWs4Ldrbhn85Oqb3siCRPg7oT3O9sJ5iDD5HroRdIr8KuYYbh18LXoWMte8O0Rn7beXy7xgP0if-5SSKgk2Jg4aolr6yr2SGE7liJXCIwhQOlWIFG2Cpo180mUr4g3sY_Ew9-ZR6E/s1600/IMG_20180116_113945.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="928" data-original-width="1600" height="370" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi336qWs4Ldrbhn85Oqb3siCRPg7oT3O9sJ5iDD5HroRdIr8KuYYbh18LXoWMte8O0Rn7beXy7xgP0if-5SSKgk2Jg4aolr6yr2SGE7liJXCIwhQOlWIFG2Cpo180mUr4g3sY_Ew9-ZR6E/s640/IMG_20180116_113945.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We managed to negotiate a slightly better price for two nights saying that we won't stay for the pope anyway and we just need to fix our bike. Finding a mechanic, on the other hand, was much more challenging - after asking around from many people (you really can't take directions from only one person around here as they are rarely accurate or even correct) we finally found a... place. </div>
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A guy, who was supposedly a mechanic was building a restaurant for himself but promised to help us. There were no signs up about the place being a mechanics shop (because it wasn't) but since the bike had passed the point of starting, we had no other option but to leave Starcraft there to return at 4pm to pick it up. Of course when we got there at 4, the bike was missing the engine, petrol tank, seat and many things more. So we ended up staying there and helping the guy finish the work before dark.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqRUKpN8mzJApurUNjCgw7UZx0i8NmU92HcEtbw7GidKzxDcRpfD4F2XXim98WIDIlKoH4CEhQ7KwFKYy6eHUr1qslgc_qE1CkOjBHjlpHEvl-oUtP5BuYw1JcdP0JcFWYRAW5yXAVpjo/s1600/IMG_20180115_160651.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqRUKpN8mzJApurUNjCgw7UZx0i8NmU92HcEtbw7GidKzxDcRpfD4F2XXim98WIDIlKoH4CEhQ7KwFKYy6eHUr1qslgc_qE1CkOjBHjlpHEvl-oUtP5BuYw1JcdP0JcFWYRAW5yXAVpjo/s640/IMG_20180115_160651.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The guy did seem to know what he was doing, although we had to go to another mechanic in Trujillo the next day to change another leaking seal... Huancho didn't really have many options for motorbike parts so it just broke, but luckily it was a more easily-reachable seal than the big one from the previous day. </div>
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After Huanchaco we decided that the desert road didn't have that much to offer us, so we decided to make a small d-tour in the mountains (about a <a href="tel:1000">1000</a>km detour) so we headed towards Cajamarca. The road started out following a river towards the hills, with big patches of the road washed away, patches consisting of only gravel and occasionally the road being directly on(in?) the riverbed. Despite our expectations for the road to get better once we start climbing up, it soon became clear that the last patch of gravel was not planning to turn back into a paved road any time soon. The road was climbing up-up-up, the night was coming and there were absolutely no places off the road with a level place to pitch our tent and to top it all off, it started raining. Hadn't seen rain since leaving mountains the last time as it only rains around 4mm each year along most of the coast of Peru. </div>
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Luckily we found an abandoned house to hide us and our bike. We even met the neighbour - a very old grandpa was climbing up the muddy slopes beside the house and invited us over. We politely declined as there was no way of getting the bike up the hill, plus we were not up for the whole evening of deciphering an old version of Spanish mixed with Quechua to keep up the conversation.</div>
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The next day we continued the climb through the mountains and clouds and fog, and got some amazing views to make up for the the cold and occasional rains. And to our very pleasant surprise the road also became asphalt again. The villages on the way really didn't see "gringos" very often as was proven by the fact that when I walked into a store to buy bread, the lady could barely speak at first from the big surprise. The people in the small towns away from the gringo trail have rarely seen white people and are quite cheerful (a bit apprehensive at first but then they melt) . The more random the place we stop, the happier they are (Look, gringos sitting on a pile of dirt!) but oh, so sincere. Sometimes, when a cyclist (or motorcyclist) is almost twisting his head off to see us a bit longer, I wave to them so that they could turn their head back and wouldn't crash (but there have been many near-misses). </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOCC7RlqpGzTNfBEoTYJYV-P-qBcbVfK2a-fmNTcyNrm-vNK_AVqapWugXtiezcs6-Y3GOLR2RXcDg-TyBWMgkDQtP9ImR3JGloTY2B1bJZh7BF5hffvjvJxS1y4IQxUHq8aDB8c8aCjs/s1600/IMG_20180117_094244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOCC7RlqpGzTNfBEoTYJYV-P-qBcbVfK2a-fmNTcyNrm-vNK_AVqapWugXtiezcs6-Y3GOLR2RXcDg-TyBWMgkDQtP9ImR3JGloTY2B1bJZh7BF5hffvjvJxS1y4IQxUHq8aDB8c8aCjs/s640/IMG_20180117_094244.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These are some nice clouds, not the horrible fog that we encountered later</td></tr>
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Cajamarca has some cool archeological sites around it. We visited Cumbe Mayo, which is a very complex system of aqueducts (in perfect harmony with the nature) , built more than <a href="tel:3000">3000</a> years ago by the Incas, making it the oldest one in the word. Plus they are still using it! Of course Incas always found the most amazing places for everything so the site was between some amazing hills and rock-formations and many rocks covered with old symbols and messages (undeciphered, slowly being washed away by the rain and time). We also visited a complex of 'windows' carved in rocks, also almost <a href="tel:3000">3000</a> years old, which are believed to have been used for burial purposes. Both sights were certainly worth a visit and even despite the cold and rainy weather (it rains every day here because of the season) welcoming us in Cajamarca.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0X9FDbcyuNze1EjJ0EtjCD_pAf2AjBah5OPr4cNkLAZDYm6NJw5DUtpxboruEf2KGf_GF-onWu1npejxl9ZYO7xz-uMGvwd2WPcdeiX3nPuBnZiq16THvBgaDjKo6UmG6dsyMkZGXhfw/s1600/IMG_20180119_100030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0X9FDbcyuNze1EjJ0EtjCD_pAf2AjBah5OPr4cNkLAZDYm6NJw5DUtpxboruEf2KGf_GF-onWu1npejxl9ZYO7xz-uMGvwd2WPcdeiX3nPuBnZiq16THvBgaDjKo6UmG6dsyMkZGXhfw/s640/IMG_20180119_100030.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Incan aqueducts - over 3000 years old and still work</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whete the dead were buried</td></tr>
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We escaped the rain and cold once more to head to the coast. This time we encountered the worst road-conditions so far as we were crossing a double-hill, both peaks about <a href="tel:3000">3000</a> metres high. There were evidence that until recently it had still been a tarmac road, but the floods and landslides had done their job, so what was left was a 1-2lane track on muddy gravel. And just as we were climbing the second peak, we encountered fog like I have never before seen in my life. It was so thick that visibility was about 7m. My glasses were so foggy on both sides that I didn't see anything at all, no matter if I was wearing them or not. It was not exactly raining, but because the air was so wet, everything was still dripping with water. And at the worst moments, the road was covered also in a 10cm totally saturated layer of thick, semi-liquid mud (because of course noone will build any drainage on a temporary road. Why would you think ahead... a few rains and they will be lucky if they have half a lane of road left). </div>
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We still reached the coast alive and stopped for the first night in Lobitos - a town popular with surfers, as I had heard, so we went to check it out, hoping it may be the place for a little longer beach-side rest-stop. </div>
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What we found was a tiny little town, with half of the houses abandoned, so half of it was a ghost-town. There were tens of oil pumps on the road to the town already, we found a few more right inside the town and when you looked out in the sea, there were oil platforms in any direction you looked. We actually found a nice place in one of the surf-camps but decided not to stay in this town any longer than one night, the reason mainly being, as always, food. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nope. No food here</td></tr>
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Of course there were only two small kiosks (in place of a shop) in town to buy rice and oil but for any other groceries you needed to go to the next town. So we decided to explore the three 'restaurants' on our side of town. </div>
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We walked into the first one (the menu outside had about eight different meals on it, all basically still being chicken or fish with rice, cooked a bit differently, some with the addition of potatoes), started discussing that it would be nice to find something more interesting (without rice) and started leaving. </div>
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Man (restaurant owner) : What do you wish do have? <br />
Us: what else do you have, besides rice, chicken and fish? <br />
Man: We have anything you want, just tell us and we will make it. <br />
Us: and anything that isn't chicken or fish will cost more money?<br />
Man: yes, of course. what do you want? we can make anything. </div>
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It all ended with us going to the next place (looked like an abandoned boat shed with a few plastic chairs and tables), that turned out not having any food, when we asked what they could offer us(why are you open then? ). </div>
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The next place also looked like an abandoned surf-shed, but had a menu on the wall promising burgers and pastas and all kinds of good stuff. The few stranded surfers that we finally found in the huge shed said that they have no food. </div>
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So we arrived back in the first place, <u>greeted</u> by the wife this time. </div>
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Us:What do you have with any vegetables in them? <br />
Woman: Nothing - we have eggs, rice, potato, chicken and fish. <br />
Us: Ok, we will have potatoes with chicken/fish and... you really don't have any vegetables? <br />
Her: no<br />
Us: onion, tomato... anything<br />
Her: no. we don't eat these kind of things around here<br />
us. Ok. we'll just have the potatoes and chicken and fish them<br />
her: no rice? <br />
us: no rice. (they never eat anything without rice around here. we have tried ordering pasta, but then you get 1/3 plate pasta and the rest is still rice) </div>
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In the end we did get our food and from somewhere they had also managed to find two slices of tomato for us. But of course we had to pay extra... didn't even ask if it was for the tomato or the lack of rice. Should be called <u>whining-about-South-American-food-blog</u> already. So I shall first let you know that not all is bad:</div>
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The more north we go, the more common and cheaper are fruits and fruit juices. <br />
Chile had the best empanadas so far (Guanaceros with freshly baked seafood or mushroom-ham with cheese) and they often have on a table a kind of mixture of finely chopped onion, chili, tomato and something more. </div>
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In Argentina was the best barbecue (Asado), chorizo and a sausage that was a mix of black pudding and Estonian blood sausage (they had that in Paraguay and somewhere else as well). Actually I can't really comment on the food of Chile and Argentina - eating out was so expensive that we always cooked for ourselves. </div>
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Paraguay had also good barbecue and a kind of pay-by-weight eateries, where they had a wide choice of different options with plenty of different vegetables as well. And Erik is still dreaming about Lomito Arabica (the most tender meat in a wrap with nice creamy garlic sauce and <u>salad</u>) <br />
Brazil had mouth-watering pao de queso (cheese buns), ácai (a sorbet of a kind of local fruit) and maracuya juice. We also encountered some all-you-cat eat buffets, that had some choice of veggies as well but not often enough. </div>
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Bolivia - they say that Cocachamba has some good food. Don't know, didn't go. But sorry Bolivia... there really isn't anything good in the food (in the areas we traveled) <br />
Peru - cheviche (raw fish with lime juice, chile, cilantro and onion), fish stew, lomo saltado (a stir-fry of beef pieces and onion, paprika), stuffed paprika etc. </div>
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Anyway, in search for a town with a bit more to offer, we got to Máncora - a beach town where you go to party. We stayed two nights in a camping with at least 60 other hippies (mostly south-american travelers), found our first eastern european (a Polish guy hitchhiking south all the way from Mexico) in the whole South-American trip (such a shame he left the next day. there was finally someone who was in the same situation like us - white skinned, but not as rich or western as all locals expect us to be) and pretty fast discovered that the beachfront filled with nightclubs, each one trying to blast a reggaeton song a bit louder than the next one (it was horrible and deafening just walking past in a distance ) , really isn't exactly what we had been looking for. Plus we like less crowded beaches with less trash. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mancora camping life</td></tr>
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We tried the next recommended town (by the internet), found nothing there and kept driving until the evening was close and we just had to stay somewhere. So now we have been resting for a couple of days at a little hospedaje, that didn't seem to be what we were looking for in the first place (not near any areas with any shops or restaurants or other tourists and located right next to the highway) but actually... we pay the same as for our room in Cusco but for that we get a private bathroom with toilet paper (that's a thing here, that's usually not included in the price), almost private balcony with a view of the sea, soap :D, internet, a fan and even one towel. And we can use their kitchen (the town is about 3km for groceries), they insist on washing our dishes and feed us with mangoes and coconuts for free. So we are having a hard time leaving. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Drinking Terere and getting ready to cross the border</td></tr>
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There is one other thing that I have wanted to write about. Maybe it has come out in my previous writing as well, but what I find very strange is that everyone copies each other and nothing can ever be different than the neighbor . For example, we were driving in an area, where one person had at one point figured out that a lot of trucks pass the house and he has water so why not make money from it. The result was that on a 10km stretch of road there were 20 places that offered truck-washing service. At that point we were really hungry and would have appreciated a place to eat but unfortunately all the restaurants had been 20km ago where they had 15 of them right next to each other, offering exactly the same food. We have driven past whole towns where nobody sells anything else but lubricants (we were also looking for food) or anything else but baskets or anything else but watermelons or tin pots and pans (they don't even make them there... they just all copy each other). It is all very convenient as a buyer at a market (fifty shops selling tools next to each other) but it can't be good for a business. Who buys all the lubricants in your little town? Do you buy them from each other? </div>
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We now have two months to go (will probably reach Estonia at the beginning of April) and are thinking and talkung about it several times a day already.</div>
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Things that I miss the most:</div>
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*Having a conversation with someone without these questions: Where are you from? (that is so far! yes. I had to walk five days more than the germans to get here) How long have you been traveling? Where are you going next? So Estonian is like Russian, right? etc. There have been too many of them already</div>
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*Going to an atm, pushing the right buttons and as a result, getting money out</div>
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*Being able to just walk into a grocery store to buy whatever food you want (it took us about 8 shops today to kind of get what we wanted... not everything.) </div>
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*Black bread, sour cream, kefir, kohuke, curry paste, coconut milk, rice noidles, tortilla wraps, different kinds of rice (basmati!!), rice noodles, good cheese, good coffee (and I don't even drink coffee), good chocolate, sült, good cheese, pastries with vegetables</div>
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*Not packing and unpacking all the time</div>
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*People that keep their promises</div>
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*Traffic that is not constantly trying to kill you (using blinkers, respecting other people enough not to stop suddenly in the middle of the street) </div>
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*No piles of garbage everywhere</div>
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*Not being considered a gringo</div>
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*Not hearing reggaeton and cumbia all the time (hearing free different songs right now from the surrounding houses) <br />
*going somewhere with my life... maybe have an actual home and a career? <br />
*not being asked a higher price because of my skin/hair<br />
*Getting change back in stores faster than 2min (doesn't matter how big or small the bill, they never have change) <br />
*people thinking ahead. Ok. You are still waiting to get the bread (you just opened your restaurant. you were just sitting there and doing nothing, why didn't you get the bread then?) but that doesn't mean that you couldn't bring us the drinks or prepare other parts of the meal<br />
*people with a wish do be better. you see people doing things, that you know they have done a thousand times before but every time they are still eventing the wheel and have no memory whatsoever from the last time they dud it. no notes to themselves about what could be done better next time. no will to improve. <br />
*a respect for the nature. If a child is going around the park and beating all the bushes and flowers to shreds with a stick and noone in the whole family even blinks then I think there is a problem in the society (so random example but I get these examples every day) </div>
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#peru #travel #travelperu #perutravel #bolivia #paraguay #brazil #chile #argentina #motorbiketrip #motorbikesouthamerica #southamerica #motorbiketravel #outdoors #dravelgram #food #sourhamericafood #panamericana #panam #travelling #travelphotography #dotheyevenhasdagblogger</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-26145250392201626652018-01-10T18:53:00.000-08:002018-01-28T14:41:19.228-08:00In the land of Incas<div dir="ltr">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPurTqJIgjJhNsGJvUmwq5ZaeoCocOaEXpzVMZpwjR1ElHGlu4DTcCVBE2KhMJpu5UGz25GsfC1nAYiSIZrVoFuwSwWzJahe7HLtau4SR5O0R_ukDoPvxVz8GxUfwATw29O_OkTF2ZosQ/s1600/IMG_20171226_142632.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPurTqJIgjJhNsGJvUmwq5ZaeoCocOaEXpzVMZpwjR1ElHGlu4DTcCVBE2KhMJpu5UGz25GsfC1nAYiSIZrVoFuwSwWzJahe7HLtau4SR5O0R_ukDoPvxVz8GxUfwATw29O_OkTF2ZosQ/s640/IMG_20171226_142632.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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After successfully entering Peru on the 20th of December, and having been suggested by the border guard to fake ourselves a document that we have actually bought our bike (as we do not have any actual proof that we did, as we never even saw the "owner") because we will not be able to leave the country without that document, we headed towards Cuzco. I was a bit afraid to get there right before Christmas because it is not just another town on the road.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There are many ruins also in Cuzco and right around it. One of the ways of reaching them is on a horse. </td></tr>
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Cuzco is the biggest city (400,000 people, elevation 3,400m) close to the Incan ruins of Machu Picchu. And Machu Picchu, of course is probably the most famous sight that almost everyone who visits the continent feels like they can't do without. Because of that, Cuzco is literally the most touristic place you can go, so especially around Christmas and New Year many people want to be right in that city. So the first idea was to drive through Cusco before Christmas, visit MP and be close to the coast by New Years.</div>
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But when we got there, then we actually found such a lovely hostel (nice owners, wifi, kitchen, space for motorbike, private room, good price. the only downside being that the water was always kind of lukewarm, which is not ideal in the crisp climate of the mountains) and we also made friends with some people we liked, who were staying in the hostel for Christmas. So before we knew it, we were organising an Estonian-style Christmas dinner for most of the people in the hostel (there were only eleven in the whole hostel at that point).</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Christmas dinner</td></tr>
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Although there were some bumps on the way of making it - there was no oven for the pork roast, we accidentally bought sweet potato instead of the normal one for the mashed potatoes and I put the sauerkraut to marinate way too late, the end-product was pretty good and our international crew of judges, consisting of a British/Irish, an American, a Colombian, a Bolivian and an Ethiopian approved. The celebrations were quite long, especially because on the 24th they also have some fireworks at midnight and celebrations go on for a while.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjblHoMNDaZGUdQA_oGIYReDQKq6wBNq2lNi6tJCMQKHXKjxS1kh1lOwD4_MGEruMRU2KW-R-RoJCjNokq3jiARJ9b8f2a4IJPm8PxzSoOrUL4_ddj7a9nmmM0gG7aHThnbj8SR8-lA6VE/s1600/IMG_20171222_134558.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjblHoMNDaZGUdQA_oGIYReDQKq6wBNq2lNi6tJCMQKHXKjxS1kh1lOwD4_MGEruMRU2KW-R-RoJCjNokq3jiARJ9b8f2a4IJPm8PxzSoOrUL4_ddj7a9nmmM0gG7aHThnbj8SR8-lA6VE/s640/IMG_20171222_134558.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An example of Incan stonework.</td></tr>
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The next morning (after four hours of sleep) we headed towards Aguas Calientes, which is the small town that is directly besides the mountain on top of which lies Machu Picchu. Now, the tricky part is that there are no public roads going to Aguas Calientes. They like to make you believe that the only way is to no go by a (very scenic) train from Cuzco. That means 60 US dollars each way (on top of Machu Picchu itself also costing at least 50 dollars) which will add up to being quite a lot. And if you can not climb the 1,5km of stairs that take you 500m higher from the base of the mountain to the gates of Machu Picchu, you will pay an additional 12 dollars each way to go there from Aguas C. With these buses going up practically every 5 minutes... I really hope that all the money at least goes into making something better in Peru, not into some private hands. That is a lot. At high season there is a chance that you can't get into MP because they have already filled their daily limit, which is <a href="tel:2500">2500</a> people a day (most of them using the 120 dollar train and the 24dollar bus) </div>
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There actually are other ways to go to Aguas C. as well. You can take one of the multi-day treks that takes you over mountains and through valleys, but we didn't feel so sporty, so we took a 6-hour bus ride, that goes around all the mountains of MP (amazing views in the high mountains) to 'Hidroelectrica' , which is basically the closest spot that the public roads reach to Aguas Calientes (and Machu Picchu). From there you can follow the train tracks for 11km (walking) and voila... you have saved a lot of money (the bus to Hidroelectrica is 17 dollars for the return ticket).We could have gone to Hidroelectrica by motorbike as well but that would have meant leaving it in a quite random place for two days plus that would have been all days drive each way. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgngSK8NeHF4LVl3Q95DEZrtrzcn2Ts2EVFnHrYoB0ARBBCBxBC_eqksk7MlR2emZVxDgC84FuNoArxSSs2aFD2Sf4JkSFQBBv5GimHQ_K8XXyZ3L4DsJQeen4lzAILoqvJA2KgWeshorU/s1600/IMG_20171227_102017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgngSK8NeHF4LVl3Q95DEZrtrzcn2Ts2EVFnHrYoB0ARBBCBxBC_eqksk7MlR2emZVxDgC84FuNoArxSSs2aFD2Sf4JkSFQBBv5GimHQ_K8XXyZ3L4DsJQeen4lzAILoqvJA2KgWeshorU/s640/IMG_20171227_102017.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The walk on rails between Hidroelectrica and Aguas Calientes</td></tr>
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Now, as we were climbing the stairs up, to finally see the world wonder, I was preparing myself for a disappointment. I had read many articles about it being kind of disappointing and people expected more and also people talking about it being unimpressive and whatnot. At what point in their lives did these people fall from a very high place directly on their head? What does it take to impress them? </div>
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First of all, the location - on three sides it has 500m of natural straight cliffs going down, creating a natural fortress. On the fourth side it is a bit more easily reachable, but when it was built, probably still nearly impossible, as the current road for the buses is not something the Incas had. There are also two "inca trails" going up to the fortress (built as a place for the Inka elite to escape when things got bad) - on one side, the 'trail' runs along the side of the same 400m drop cliff and has a 'bridge', consisting of hole in the path that can only be crossed using the two planks going over it, that they could easily move if needed (making it impossible for anyone to enter their mountain fortress). The other path(s) leading in were also narrow and easily defendable. And of course the cliff-looking mountain that MP is on, is also surrounded by similar looking ones on the other side of Urubamba river which runs around the hill, which create amazing views. </div>
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Secondly, thete is the city itself - you can see a lot of the famously good Incan stonemasonry, when huge chunks of rock have been cut to exactly sit on top of each other, so that there is virtually no gap (corners cut into stones etc). And they had built steps out of stone for the fields and systems to direct the rainwater exactly where they needed it. So everything was very well planned and thought through. You could look out of the windows of the Incans and see the same view that they did. Plus it offered scenic views being on hundreds of different levels with stairs connecting them. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the trails into Machu Picchu</td></tr>
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And what is more amazing is that the Spanish colonisers never discovered the ruins while they were exploring the country and therefore didn't destroy them. Of course they were not in a perfect shape when the first whites "discovered it" (the locals of the area knew of its existence all the time), it was all abandoned and overgrown with the lush nature of the area (it rains a lot so the nature is very green), noone was living there except for one family (who had come quite recently) who were using some of the fields and buildings. It had almost become one with the nature before they restored it partly. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can't see it ion the picture but there is actually a trail that goes along that cliff - one of the entrance roads to Machu Picchu</td></tr>
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But I have to say that what is amazing, is not only Machu Picchu by itself, but it is also what surrounds it. It is in an amazing place, between green and lush mountains and valleys which contain ruins (Incan and even pre-Incan) everywhere you look. Such rich ancient culture behind every corner. Most of the other ruins are not very well-known unfortunately but there are said to be ruins just as impressive as Machu Picchu. The whole Incan kingdom area (stretching further than Peru's borders even) is a treasure chest of history, living in harmony with the nature, being build to blend in with the nature, and unique craftmanship with places with such a strong energy that I get goosebumps just thinking about it. </div>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
When we visited MP, we did miss a bit on the views, as it was the rainy season and there were almost constant clouds and fog between and on and around the mountains so we never saw the full 'postcard view' that you see when you see any picture of MP. And most of the time we didn't see the surrounding mountains or the ground. But it was still very much worth it. We went in and around twice, as there are some stupid systems, where they don't allow you to go back from some places - they have 'circuits' that you can take, but noone actually knows about them so you can easily discover that you have missed half of the whole thing (of course it happened to us as well) so we went in for the second time to see some more. On the second go, there were almost no people compared to the first time, so it was much more peaceful and magical plus there were chinchilla-like animals all over the ruins jumping around, who came out after most of the people had left. When you started looking around you could see tens of them in each direction minding their own business, in addition to the llamas and alpacas roaming around because lawnmowers would be quite inappropriate up there. </blockquote>
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After the excessive walking of MP for several days and a day of rest in Cuzco, we discovered that New Year's Eve was too close for leaving anyways. So we decided to stay in Cuzco, since we also had some old and new friends staying in the hostel for the celebrations. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exploring the colorful hills around Cuzco with some new friends</td></tr>
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On the 30th of December, our life took a sudden change and instead of living in a quiet and cozy hostel with just a few beds filled, it was suddenly full if people. Even our tv room had its floor covered in people on mattresses by the actual 31st. The party was big in Cuzco, with streets full of people with yellow accessories (it is believed that wearing yellow underwear on the change of year brings you luck. but everything yellow goes nowadays) and loads of fireworks. </div>
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When the New Year's fireworks had faded (they actually never did completely) , we decided to head straight across the country towards the sea for a change of scenery. By that point we had been up in the mountains for almost two months and the last time that we saw sea had been in the middle of July (I think it must have been the longest time in my life without seeing sea) so we were eager to get some warm weather and fresh seafood. The seafood thing goes mostly about me. Erik, being a former seafood hater, has had to suffer my seafood craziness going on since Copacabana, Bolivia. </div>
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Of course we had to climb up to more than <a href="tel:4000">4000</a>m three times more (each time dropping down to <a href="tel:2000">2000</a> in between) before we could get down from the hills. It was not just around the corner. At one point we had been driving at the hight of <a href="tel:4600">4600</a>m for almost an hour already, because we were on a sort of a plateau and getting occasional rain and hail; plus the wind is unstoppable on these high plateaus as well, so we were freezing, despite all the clothes we were wearing (snow on surrounding mountains). So we stopped the bike, climbed into a ditch by the road and pressed ourselves against the slightly warm concrete walls of the ditch just to warm up a little bit. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trying to defreeze</td></tr>
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But when we suddenly started going down from the ladt mountain, the weather started going warmer with every kilometre and the air thicker, so it was actually a bit strange to breathe a first - there was just too much oxygen in the air . The nature also changed, as now we were surrounded by rocks and sand everywhere you looked. All the way since leaving the mountains, the only green sections have been around rivers (every inch used for fields) , as it almost never rains in this area because of the same current that brings the dry winds to Atacama desert. We never would have believed it but Starcraft actually took us all the way over the Andes. We had almost no hope in him when we first bought him (and everyone were telling us that it is impossible to cross the mountains with anything that small) but he is tougher than he looks and he did do it. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">4600m meters from sea level - never thought that Starcraft would take us this high</td></tr>
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Nazca was the first stop back in warmer climate. The place is known for shapes in the desert made by moving stones from one place to another just after year 0. The shapes are generally animals and insects and have lasted in the area for all this time thanks to not really having rain to shift the ground around. They tell you that you simply must take a plane ride to even grasp them and anything else is pointless. The truth is that the watchtower built between three of the pictures gives you a pretty good idea of what the other ones would as well (in other words, we were too cheap to do the plane thing) . But they are very difficult to notice from the ground level, which is also proven by the fact that they managed to build a road through one of the pictures before their existence was even discovered. They just didn't notice a huge shape of a lizard drawn on the ground. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of Nazca lines</td></tr>
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We also visited Paracas, which is a little town on the beach, with prices quite high and the whole town living on tourism. It was nice to chill over there for a couple of days but since I get tired of going to beach quite fast and Erik doesn't care for it at all, we continued up the coast towards Lima. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixUtZh3wYup-s_ksYQ_gXFBwOulNemX83Zc1Y1x-lHdd8E5iOvJ53azR5Z0AOemzRysB7P8IrAWP1L4Ud1FMTQwGJPmh9zHwrTz3nI210nd8eCatGbV6gn4oyClXDSqwfN5p8KCXzBXdw/s1600/IMG_20180107_135028.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixUtZh3wYup-s_ksYQ_gXFBwOulNemX83Zc1Y1x-lHdd8E5iOvJ53azR5Z0AOemzRysB7P8IrAWP1L4Ud1FMTQwGJPmh9zHwrTz3nI210nd8eCatGbV6gn4oyClXDSqwfN5p8KCXzBXdw/s640/IMG_20180107_135028.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paracas beach</td></tr>
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The whole way up towards Lima was quite surreal. Everything was sand and dunes and small hills (virtually no trees or plants, except around the few rivers) . In some places there were villages in the middle of all this, made up from little huts that actually had people living in them, in some places, the fields were covered in small huts made of stone - maybe a maximum of two-three meters wide both ways. And the houses were empty of people with no facilities or anything. Don't get me wrong, we have seen similar failed attempts to re-locate in many more places and the failed ones are always at a ridiculous distance from any city or place of population (why even build these pointless houses there? ) . But these ones looked plain idiotic. Who would want to live on a field of sand, surrounded by only mountains of sand, far from anything? We also saw some areas of villas, that looked like white tumours on the side of the rock walls above the sea but the weirdest place we saw was where we spent the night.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTo_1T-hWVxPbsvCkU5sH1-7a9lo8yLrBLXtQb9BmfOqIkT5Szqeqic_UfG9BkPQSH9K9JGv6Qu5a78at03Ev_K5sefIie-Tz40TDh4CobT_4eNRSi6l_j3YwDWPpm3kvgxhUKHuH787U/s1600/IMG_20180110_205824.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="963" data-original-width="1600" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTo_1T-hWVxPbsvCkU5sH1-7a9lo8yLrBLXtQb9BmfOqIkT5Szqeqic_UfG9BkPQSH9K9JGv6Qu5a78at03Ev_K5sefIie-Tz40TDh4CobT_4eNRSi6l_j3YwDWPpm3kvgxhUKHuH787U/s640/IMG_20180110_205824.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Palpa lines - even older than Nazca lines (before Christ)</td></tr>
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We had found a place on iOverlander (irreplaceable app when traveling by moto/car) that claimed there to be a safe and free place to camp on a beach in a town. When we turned off the highway some time before our camping beach, we were first greeted by hundreds of white houses in rows that all looked exactly the same. There were playgrounds and roads, all very nice and clearly made for richer kind of people, with guards on gates and flowers between houses. But I repeat again - all the houses looked like exact copies of each other and a small handful of people lived in the whole complex/town. So it was basically an empty rich ghost town. </div>
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Close by, there was another town that we stayed in. This town looked more like a real tourist town - white sanded beach and the streets made up of only hotels and restaurants. Rows and rows of restaurants and rows and rows of hotels but... there were no tourists. None. Noone to buy their overpriced foods, noone to explore their streets especially built for tourists. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE1Xkbix_bOlHmkSkKBk_9oNcZRIZxIxx21wBrkj5o9IQ_49sRMGHOYRrpHgvzGOm9PsrjGRrPjlCQhBqQkDdaG991yhikmgri98Pol7qOTRTk60Lsv6cYh8RTPKvJuhxDVWD99UlezdI/s1600/IMG_20180109_183354.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE1Xkbix_bOlHmkSkKBk_9oNcZRIZxIxx21wBrkj5o9IQ_49sRMGHOYRrpHgvzGOm9PsrjGRrPjlCQhBqQkDdaG991yhikmgri98Pol7qOTRTk60Lsv6cYh8RTPKvJuhxDVWD99UlezdI/s640/IMG_20180109_183354.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lima</td></tr>
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Now we have made it to Lima where we stayed for a couple of nights to make some big fixes for the bike. We even visited the beach but didn't go into the water because it was dark red/brown with orange/yellow foam. Can't see it on the picture because the blue sky reflecting on it makes it look blue. But tomorrow we will continue up north, away from Lima. The problem is that everything interesting is back up high in the mountains... I am trying to speak Erik out of going at the moment because I have missed warm weather so much. </div>
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And we are still feeling tired all the time because of recieving so much new information every day and right now we are thinking more about resting than exploring. We'll try to find a balance</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv2VpZKtB7NG07eF7c_itZteGMT8ZclEisRgdk59k9iKiwCPGjdD-dfTwZ4h2nYTqdB-CxY2AZWQBumdONQpcq-aY6tFFckFkmEy_AlInsfyVOXrQSOmMnHE0OPyR7VzoOa9kvpp1i5Iw/s1600/IMG_20180110_123915.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv2VpZKtB7NG07eF7c_itZteGMT8ZclEisRgdk59k9iKiwCPGjdD-dfTwZ4h2nYTqdB-CxY2AZWQBumdONQpcq-aY6tFFckFkmEy_AlInsfyVOXrQSOmMnHE0OPyR7VzoOa9kvpp1i5Iw/s640/IMG_20180110_123915.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lima beach. Can't really tell the color of the sea from this distance </td></tr>
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Compared to Bolivia, the life is a bit easier - we can buy fuel anywhere we want to, the food is a bit more varied (although they still eat everything with rice) and the people a bit more polite.<br />
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#travel #lima #peru #latinamerica #southamerica #travelsouthamerica #travelperu #perutravel #motorbiketravel #motorbiketrip #motorbikesouthamerica #cajamarca #cumbemayo #cumbemayocajamarca #travelblog #highaltitude #perumountains #huanchaco<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-29937036820624443862017-12-22T05:51:00.000-08:002017-12-22T05:51:01.671-08:00The best and the worst of Bolivia<div dir="ltr">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMlxWXVJ_lGGikeVNksSi5wyevuC_ZUfXV8AXNuuBA-9HUBHMbiCuMowvMYFBT01O6e5I2s4MhyxChIa7iGtiKvSOFEq4Zv_hgpysECL1SNIxB_BtkpfL7gmJqJJo7-h570kPxNQ3JAM/s1600/IMG_20171205_185325.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieMlxWXVJ_lGGikeVNksSi5wyevuC_ZUfXV8AXNuuBA-9HUBHMbiCuMowvMYFBT01O6e5I2s4MhyxChIa7iGtiKvSOFEq4Zv_hgpysECL1SNIxB_BtkpfL7gmJqJJo7-h570kPxNQ3JAM/s640/IMG_20171205_185325.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Since we do have a bike we decided to go back on the salt flats once more to camp and meet Lucy. We stayed on a small private island and made bonfire of cactuses and small bushes (this has nothing to do with normal campfire as they contain some strange substances that burn very brightly, with high flames and with the smell of burning rubber) . It is quite amazing to see the sun going down behind other islands, changing the colour of the salt which looks exactly like ice, except it is is divided into six-sided shapes as far as you can see (and during the sunset all the edges of the hexagons are lit up) and it is incredibly dry there as well. But I do think it is the coolest place we have ever camped. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihhLkIrXq0mMgqzd2CpM3K0tei2kP57sZsOzXFNcHiMXJnSBQ0NWpAWdXneF7Ayx-5tFnsBaIaCD84OpvudUnkFK_NxWYzgt2cVHz36irfjf48eJgUklzqRC7lg-0NlrOVD7wtwGN37zE/s1600/IMG_20171205_152048.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihhLkIrXq0mMgqzd2CpM3K0tei2kP57sZsOzXFNcHiMXJnSBQ0NWpAWdXneF7Ayx-5tFnsBaIaCD84OpvudUnkFK_NxWYzgt2cVHz36irfjf48eJgUklzqRC7lg-0NlrOVD7wtwGN37zE/s640/IMG_20171205_152048.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our camp in the middle of the salt flat</td></tr>
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The next day we drove off the salt and took a small road around a volcano, called Thunupa, to get back to the main road. We had passed a few villages (most of the houses abandoned and roof-less) when we drove past a group of people in traditional clothes holding beer bottles who were waving at us to join them. The very traditional ones are usually not very interested in tourists so we decided to go and see what they want, thinking that surely it was a kind of market and they want to sell us something. But surprisingly that was not the case. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNUbxkUyUBF3IXzZdayXBt_OgrhWUSzfd0E7A3oEj3nFPZPCy2OW1pDNkphsYQi8IaeDiYZypEHY8UW03sBTDf4CxTluX1UMkQwN2hzgRNLe6QBb9wGFe543FXPXzh2n9KWgbd_XbYB4s/s1600/IMG_20171206_114434_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNUbxkUyUBF3IXzZdayXBt_OgrhWUSzfd0E7A3oEj3nFPZPCy2OW1pDNkphsYQi8IaeDiYZypEHY8UW03sBTDf4CxTluX1UMkQwN2hzgRNLe6QBb9wGFe543FXPXzh2n9KWgbd_XbYB4s/s640/IMG_20171206_114434_HDR.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The men's altar with the remains of the sacrificed sheep</td></tr>
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What we were invited to was actually a very traditional celebration (they claimed that we were the first foreigners who had ever stopped and taken part) of giving the power of last year's leaders to the next ones. So the most important elders of the area (of the Thunupa vulcano) spend a week each year walking from village to village to transform the power (cambio de poder). <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZGj8HS5mxPiAwhvenQ2Vwor0TBiBYQVnX-y2Q5-1Jba5JdPr4oyT1AH5rPIs3DGQej09U0RN8zUtqmzqh_m_w71yIKJQ9_rul430NRACx3nl8Jzbn0WpUa0c2LTjjkI2YEHTjWR2SKOI/s1600/IMG_20171206_130034_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZGj8HS5mxPiAwhvenQ2Vwor0TBiBYQVnX-y2Q5-1Jba5JdPr4oyT1AH5rPIs3DGQej09U0RN8zUtqmzqh_m_w71yIKJQ9_rul430NRACx3nl8Jzbn0WpUa0c2LTjjkI2YEHTjWR2SKOI/s640/IMG_20171206_130034_HDR.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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When we joined in, they had already sacrificed a sheep (it was cooking on the fire) and they were drinking to the Pacha Mama (mother earth), Thunupa and the milk of Thunupa (the Uyuni salt flat, which was called Salar de Thunupa by the locals). You were supposed to be poured the drink (beer at first) by someone else and every time before drinking, some of it had to be sacrificed to Pacha Mama and Thunupa as well.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWIyandbPX39HTGRdv4aopv90SfcXCSrVlDmedOiLxWBViaJWLxf-hj4eNtfPv8jVqmNaCDBfiWOI01WZWkyMoaKr-sSOhAgSugLRFo01z7J3MDTSsdBk9keu4-v12zh6-xuIsjoNC9r8/s1600/IMG_20171206_120857_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWIyandbPX39HTGRdv4aopv90SfcXCSrVlDmedOiLxWBViaJWLxf-hj4eNtfPv8jVqmNaCDBfiWOI01WZWkyMoaKr-sSOhAgSugLRFo01z7J3MDTSsdBk9keu4-v12zh6-xuIsjoNC9r8/s640/IMG_20171206_120857_HDR.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Smearing salt behind the ears, singing and dancing were also involved. And everyone had their own cannister of moonshine - drinking which was another part of the tradition - giving good wishes to others of course while doing so. Which meant some more pouring alcohol on the ground and drinking the rest of it. The elders also passed on good luck by slapping others on the butt three times with a cow's whip and then giving out candy. And of course the sacrificed sheep was eaten with rice and coca leaves chewed. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-QH8mnJYaxe7JueBZYLNVLPdkIwuVaMqRJNG8jWXFopWqcrcD7ACn1DQG3OvwFRBBf5W0mDn4yaQ26DLkxFON-T5yfW47QE6LydJWov5JE_GR_GGGvFn7JzthFvGcWChZXREYd_9yNJ8/s1600/IMG_20171206_113721.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-QH8mnJYaxe7JueBZYLNVLPdkIwuVaMqRJNG8jWXFopWqcrcD7ACn1DQG3OvwFRBBf5W0mDn4yaQ26DLkxFON-T5yfW47QE6LydJWov5JE_GR_GGGvFn7JzthFvGcWChZXREYd_9yNJ8/s640/IMG_20171206_113721.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In South America I am tall for the first time in my life</td></tr>
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After we had taken part in everything, we were obviously not capable of going anywhere by the bike (all the beer and moonshine) so after the elders left, we stayed behind in the small village of only five families and were hosted by the 'president of the village' who was extremely proud when he got a sound out of the didgeridoo we are traveling with. From him we also heard a lot about the attitudes towards Europeans, that I will talk about shortly. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Abandoned houses between Thunupa and the Salar of Uyuni</td></tr>
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I mentioned the elections and the president in the last post. When the results came out, about 85% of Bolivians had voted BUT over 65% of them had ruined their ballots to show their feelings towards the government. Now why did they do that? Evo Morales is the first Bolivian president, who is indigenous and that's why a lot of people actually support him (plus he HAS done good things for the growth of the economy in general) . He is a former coca farmer as well.<br />
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Now one of the problems is that he didn't stop being the head of the coca farmers' association when he became the <u>president</u>. And everyone knows that he is doing his best to develop the business of cocaine as well. For example he built a new 'international airport', but so far no international flights have gone in or out. Don't get me wrong - there are flights all the time, they are just not the most official kind, if you know what I mean. <br />
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When he came to power, the president was allowed to rule for just two terms. He is right now on his third term. Last year he organised a census to get people's approval to abolish these restrictions (so that he could be the president for even longer), but the people didn't give him the permission. So this year he changed the law so that he is also the head of the juridical system (the courts) and surprise-surprise, the higher court decided a few weeks ago that there are no more limits as to how many terms a president can rule. <br />
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There are other things that he has done and not done, so as a result people wanted to show their disappointment. Evo himself of course claims that this is all the work of the United States and the opposition (they were the ones who encouraged the people to ruin the ballots but well... the people ruined the ballots all by themselves) and did not annul the results of the elections (they were actually electing the jurors right now from the choice of candidates that Evo had chosen for them). So Evo is blaming all bad things on the USA, the colonists and the Europeans in general. <br />
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All over the country there are random walls and surfaces with writings like "vota SI" or "Evo Si", which are mostly done with the same shade of paint. There are many brick walls erected just for the purpose of this "election campaign", which is supposed to look as if common people have done it themselves to show their support.. There are also many places where the Si-campaign has been painted over with the no-campaign. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGwHXSKEI3VFE_KsLXrHfIWprbGjRkyly0ye2LJPXN5ef-6tiLEYtiFiP2NTFK769mNzkmoBMMTkF865_zjUHcIPOP9MXCWodjhIb8yoPazy4AioMVzUovwVqzmZQIsqTPTN27J9Zkq6c/s1600/IMG_20171208_113414_BURST1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGwHXSKEI3VFE_KsLXrHfIWprbGjRkyly0ye2LJPXN5ef-6tiLEYtiFiP2NTFK769mNzkmoBMMTkF865_zjUHcIPOP9MXCWodjhIb8yoPazy4AioMVzUovwVqzmZQIsqTPTN27J9Zkq6c/s640/IMG_20171208_113414_BURST1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Election campaign with additions</td></tr>
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Now traveling around here we have met several people who also blame all of the problems in the country on Americans and Europeans. And most people actually believe that - the Europeans and gringos (who are all one big gang with not many differences) are the main problem. The governments have done a good job brainwashing the people because of course the terrible corruption and laws that harass people on the day-to-day bases have nothing to do with the situation in the countries (remember how poor people are actually not let into schools if they don't have enough money for uniforms. they are not let into hospitals either, in addition to other laws that make sure that not everyone has equal rights). <br />
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Well... Estonia became independent much more recently than South American countries and had basically nothing to start with either (everything had been taken out to Mother Russia, many intellectuals killed or taken to Siberia) but <u>instead</u> of whining, they have actually become quite a good country (if only the salaries caught up with the prices). And it feels completely unfair that we are being punished for what some colonial countries have done to this continent (for example we are paying several times higher price for many things). But a white is a white and is a cocky, rich, colonising bastard for many locals. <br />
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What is even more upsetting is that we actually spent a whole year working our asses off in Australia , often doing 6-day work weeks with 12+ hours a day because we wanted to come and see the amazing South America. When we go back home we will be as poor as before, with nothing left, my most valuable possession being my 15-year-old bicycle. And now we get racism and horrible attitude towards us on a daily bases (in some areas more, in others a bit less) . No matter how much we explain, we will always be gringos (I, personally am offended by places with names like HolaGringo that have outrageous prices or restaurants with two sets of menus, according to your continent of birth and skin color). The fact that Estonia has been conquered and ruled by other countries for most of the history (and our culture or country has had zero effect on the troubles of South America) means nothing around here. And they do not even care. So why should we stay here and be punished day after day for our skin color? Most of the above is based on the attitudes in Bolivia, but also of Brazil and Paraguay. And for some reason I don't expect much better in the following countries - Peru, Equador and Colombia... if we don't get totally pissed off earlier and decide that, Fuck it - we have better things to do with my time and last money than to be mistreated every single day (on some days it bothers us more, on others, we manage to ignore it more). <br />
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I really do think that most of the problems come from within. People are rude to us (and each others), with service coming without a hint of a smile and doors being slammed in our faces. The people don't care about other people, the most obvious example being cars stopping/parking in the middle of the streets, blocking two-three lanes of traffic and making everybody wait for them. The same goes for service - you can stop for a chat with a friend for ten minutes even if there is a client waiting to get back the change from the buy that has already taken ten minutes (for one bottle of water). The poorness is no excuse, as we have been to South-East Asia and experienced that poor people can also be nice and friendly and cheap foods can be healthy and tasty. Bolivia (South America?) will not develop anywhere before they start looking at themselves and stop blaming everyone else. Yes, you had a rough past. Most of countries in the world have. Now start looking into what could be done to better the country in the present.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvqloQCnxqWoDnMwcdbAd-y_T5ZxgMWw24n5BQHYgwewzVW62Bo9XZ6fDWTowSOdiMmKCSdlOf_mFghbNMfufNoJ5h7SJL44Dc2oypNCeaKLvwHqLkxHJyB7D-_m3lIxjfMwQ9lihaQ3M/s1600/IMG_20171214_164051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvqloQCnxqWoDnMwcdbAd-y_T5ZxgMWw24n5BQHYgwewzVW62Bo9XZ6fDWTowSOdiMmKCSdlOf_mFghbNMfufNoJ5h7SJL44Dc2oypNCeaKLvwHqLkxHJyB7D-_m3lIxjfMwQ9lihaQ3M/s640/IMG_20171214_164051.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We finally made it to the capital of Bolivia (drove through a corner of a thunder/hailstorm with lightning repeatedly striking less than 100m from us to get there) which was called "The worst capital in the world" by Jeremy Clarkson and also badmouthed by many others (it is also the highest capital in the world) . But for us it was a breath of fresh air with all its opportunities like supermarkets for finding fresh refrigerated ingredients (usually the cheese and meat are just lying openly on benches surrounded by a mob of flies) and even restaurants with chinese food in addition to everything else that can be found in the city's big markets and endless streets.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhELe5M4KsWrRKqvuKvtRWHUCmzYnfS0NOcfu73omrHwghg0kSGd37RPMDvPcK7LtehbApFn1GOPJuxx9U-XTRiZEJG_U5JtwXOpv0NIpRvI2vfeB0u6OthlmNCkWwlJmqjcVySZQxUlBU/s1600/IMG_20171210_143005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhELe5M4KsWrRKqvuKvtRWHUCmzYnfS0NOcfu73omrHwghg0kSGd37RPMDvPcK7LtehbApFn1GOPJuxx9U-XTRiZEJG_U5JtwXOpv0NIpRvI2vfeB0u6OthlmNCkWwlJmqjcVySZQxUlBU/s640/IMG_20171210_143005.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The center of La Paz is located at a bottom of a deep valley (with quite steep sides), so the view over the city that you get before entering it, from the edge of it, is just amazing. It is a big valley filled with red brick houses on all the slopes. There are cable cars connecting many parts of the city, giving amazing views over the city and costing less than a dollar. Very soon, when they finish building the last few lines, you can go all around the city with them and also to the neighbouring city, el Alto (in translation the hight/high) that lies on the edge of La Paz. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnDwoZJn3iX6tWK3NCaYlS57CEv398KuGsb2hfiutfr2btbo4iK_j3TMmiUU-rhWqwfzd34-gzQ3mzHK7N-Uv-UCwsdQT8n6tjuNu3dMe1gkJmFNakmVdxU46fMEUyJ6NeYuzFOcUQsuA/s1600/IMG_20171216_103404.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnDwoZJn3iX6tWK3NCaYlS57CEv398KuGsb2hfiutfr2btbo4iK_j3TMmiUU-rhWqwfzd34-gzQ3mzHK7N-Uv-UCwsdQT8n6tjuNu3dMe1gkJmFNakmVdxU46fMEUyJ6NeYuzFOcUQsuA/s640/IMG_20171216_103404.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is NOT a market day in El Alto</td></tr>
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Now of course it is still Bolivia that we are talking about so when we first arrived, it was a big effort to get to the other wide of center to our hotel. The resin being that there was a big Christmas carnival happening on the day that we got there so all the centre was closed (we discovered that it was closed down for different reasons on exactly half of the days that we spent in La Paz). So all the traffic was directed to the small side streets , which were all pretty steep, going up and down, often covered in wet cobblestones (it was slightly raining on the day of our arrival). Of course all the roads are one way, usually going the wrong way for us and having hidden signs to indicate the direction. And the streets were full of market stalls and people and cars stopping in the middle of the road. Erik was signaling and cursing every time we had to stop again on these wet slopes every time a minibus decided to stop in the middle of the road again (even if there was time to get out of the way) to chat with a friend or pick someone up (which happened every 30 seconds or so) . They also drive out to the intersection even if there is clearly nowhere to go on the other side of it, blocking off all the traffic to everyone from the other directions as well. So when we finally made it to our hotel two hours later and brought our bike inside, the whole hotel was filled with the smell of our burning clutch.<br />
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We mostly avoided using our bike in the city after that so luckily we avoided being pissed off at every single imbecile driver (they really don't understand the concept of considering others in traffic). Almost the only time that we did use it was to visit pre-incan archeological site of Tihuanaku/Tiwanacu 40km out of town, where they have found pyramids and big monolith statues of Pacha Mama and other human-like creatures. Quite cool stuff that has been built really long time ago. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisNM0e43bPKIy0kZwIelzr6bOCqFjDvXCkLQqOwtQsDfvq8SCBVsOY7QfC-5D6FiwBKs91uiXu7H3RRD0QabmXVxkQoNoDI9rneXciu4emKyHqAdn3jVa1YvQB6yV3Kiqyg5DdCVZDWHY/s1600/IMG_20171214_121755.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisNM0e43bPKIy0kZwIelzr6bOCqFjDvXCkLQqOwtQsDfvq8SCBVsOY7QfC-5D6FiwBKs91uiXu7H3RRD0QabmXVxkQoNoDI9rneXciu4emKyHqAdn3jVa1YvQB6yV3Kiqyg5DdCVZDWHY/s640/IMG_20171214_121755.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Our last stop in Bolivia is at Copacabana, a small touristic town on the shore of Lake Titicaca (the highest navigable body of water, lying <a href="tel:3800">3800</a>m above sea level) which is also the biggest body of water we have seen since leaving Chile five months ago (and it is also the biggest lake in South America) . It is lovely, for some reason cheaper than any other, touristic town, were my my main aim is eating as much Trout as I possibly can during the time spent here (there are also many other choices when it comes to food AND someone has taught them about seasoning around here as well, which is great).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7AdVYTjP1WV-ZnR8ECwouCAoqEQ5FxwGLUdx0epD-zQnUFCebBxmiveq354XdmRjP4KYN1MfHAUwmut86Q9KJqUWFVx71VX6PqL02o8dtDoZpdIUoSdxLieq7ZNB3mG1_V9VIAfoQjvI/s1600/IMG_20171216_145658.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7AdVYTjP1WV-ZnR8ECwouCAoqEQ5FxwGLUdx0epD-zQnUFCebBxmiveq354XdmRjP4KYN1MfHAUwmut86Q9KJqUWFVx71VX6PqL02o8dtDoZpdIUoSdxLieq7ZNB3mG1_V9VIAfoQjvI/s640/IMG_20171216_145658.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Every vehicle going to Copacabana crosses water with one of those ridiculously primitive "ferries" </td></tr>
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The hillsides around the area have all been turned into steps to make fields by the Incas, which looks pretty picturesque. Right now only a fraction of the fields are being used for some reason, although the climate is the nicest we have met in a while (the air was really dry everywhere around the salt flats) and surely the Incas didn't go through all the trouble if the land was not usable for growing stuff.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZCtK749H1CFMC_xWV3psFZPgBKbGk5SSN26Cksvh2yzHxsEOlGz4u2WNNWfpXY4uXNbMXCcD1CQNqrvT4_0l2q4oVboVFIhv3ko14Nlj1seOlNEM79OErjZxaVoo0EU5wC6owIcTNOW0/s1600/IMG_20171217_113232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZCtK749H1CFMC_xWV3psFZPgBKbGk5SSN26Cksvh2yzHxsEOlGz4u2WNNWfpXY4uXNbMXCcD1CQNqrvT4_0l2q4oVboVFIhv3ko14Nlj1seOlNEM79OErjZxaVoo0EU5wC6owIcTNOW0/s640/IMG_20171217_113232.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We also took a boat trip to the two islands near here, also covered in the same steps. For anyone doing it in the future, I recommend skipping Isla de la Luna and instead spend more time on Isla del Sol as the boats are incredibly slow. When visiting both islands on one day (like we did) , you end up sitting most of the day in the boat and then running through the main attraction, where there is really a lot to see.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcAm4Uf5vFXyS1jlMZgu-AFL_lCf9YnPc6rR5AyL3z4gmAMzuiDcqy5X6h10bKt1sdrtoXZQvHHTHGicoaVlDAuFxsX0NRCrRMF3_7_OiiH37w6a0rPWbCQ3_A7921Gv-hU3GCTJXzUOw/s1600/IMG_20171218_162833.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcAm4Uf5vFXyS1jlMZgu-AFL_lCf9YnPc6rR5AyL3z4gmAMzuiDcqy5X6h10bKt1sdrtoXZQvHHTHGicoaVlDAuFxsX0NRCrRMF3_7_OiiH37w6a0rPWbCQ3_A7921Gv-hU3GCTJXzUOw/s640/IMG_20171218_162833.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think there were more boats for tourists to hire than tourists (low season) </td></tr>
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So the next step for us is to try crossing the border with Peru, which is always a gamble considering that our bike officially belongs to some Paraguayan dude. But if we do get it over, we might buy a bigger engine to get up hills a bit easier.<br />
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Update: We have successfully crossed the border to Peru despite all the inquiries about any proof of actually buying our motorbike. We have absolutely none. So in order to get out of Peru, we have to fake these papers (actual suggestion by the border-guy) </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-43861420019770867982017-12-04T13:04:00.002-08:002017-12-05T03:27:23.839-08:00The highest I have ever been<div dir="ltr">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhDUIs7SoquNpWUpqbuiXv812gYEP_LiH7ZXCaPYtoVUk7Z3VS9MDqFgZWLUB8dd2FfCb0ZxICJJgPARKBaVgHIEKB3u5XiOdiZsoABLFsMWehSy2QcgYti6Qcigo1wToL76NfBhGo8aU/s1600/IMG_20171125_140505.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhDUIs7SoquNpWUpqbuiXv812gYEP_LiH7ZXCaPYtoVUk7Z3VS9MDqFgZWLUB8dd2FfCb0ZxICJJgPARKBaVgHIEKB3u5XiOdiZsoABLFsMWehSy2QcgYti6Qcigo1wToL76NfBhGo8aU/s640/IMG_20171125_140505.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<u>So</u> we spent two weeks in Santa Cruz - the largest city in Bolivia, doing mainly almost nothing and resting. We did go to the center to find some "night life" twice. One of the times we ended up chilling with some homeless guys and chatting until morning, the second time we were just aimlessly walking with two British travelers that we had met until 4am, until we finally gave up. The reason? There are basically no pubs in Bolivia. The few that can be found (expensive and touristic) are open at odd times (close very early) and the alternative is a few discotheques (only found in a few biggest cities) that take a fortune to enter, a fortune to buy a beer and then you only hear reggaeton and cumbia blazing through the speakers in a near-empty club. In smaller towns... I'll get to that. </div>
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We were pleasantly surprised to find out that the odd bus-system of the city works very well. There are many microbuses that take 2bob (about 0,3 dollars) for a ride, take strange routes (it is still true here what I wrote about Brazil - the road systems are idiotic and almost all the streets are one-way with restrictions to where you can turn), they stop wherever you like (stopping traffic around them) and don't really have time - table. But we never had to wait for a bus and they were surprisingly fast - we once took a bus to the centre, went shopping there and took a bus to the other side of the city and it took us only 50min from stepping out of our house to reaching our destination. </div>
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We also found out why they give out warnings about the corrupt police around Santa Cruz - luckily this time we were not the victims. We warned a British couple who had just arrived in Bolivia that you probably have to carry your passport with you at all times. Since we were not 100% sure about it that time (that you are actually obligated to do that by law, as we carry ours all the time anyway to avoid trouble) , they decided not to take theirs when they went exploring the town the next day. Sure enough, the police stopped them, took them to the station, searched through all their pockets and bags and announced that the fine for not having an ID is the exact sum of money that they had on them (quite convenient after searching them). The money then found its way into the pocket of one of the police officers right in front of their eyes. But it's not just the foreigners, they do that to locals as well. So in Bolivia, you are more likely to be robbed by the police than by the criminals. </div>
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We also visited some sand-dunes just outside the city (cool and cheap place to camp for anyone in the area) and got a really good practice in driving on loose dry sand and ended up breaking one of the inner tyres by letting out too much air. </div>
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After Santa Cruz, our conquering of the Andes started. According to the plan, we will be up in the mountains for at least a month, reaching over <a href="tel:4000">4000</a> metres in Potosi (we will also go higher but probably with a tour, not on our bike) and then moving north to the capital of Bolivia before entering Peru to go to Cusco (all up high in the Andes). </div>
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But before we start moving along the alps, it is necessary to climb up and make some few-day stops on the way to avoid altitude sickness. You could also spend 24/7 with coca leaves in your cheek, but it will leave your cheeks numb and corners of your mouth brown eventually.</div>
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Our first climb was to a little village called Samaipata, which lies at <a href="tel:1800">1800</a>m above sea level. It did not come easy for the bike as we are still learning how to change the fuel/air mix in the engine (the air gets thinner at higher altitudes so the bike needs constant adjusting). The town itself is beautiful and has a <u>nice</u> climate, therefore many europeans have decided to move there and open their small restaurants or hostels there. So for a small town it has quite a good selection of food and even one pub. </div>
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We also found a very chilled out hostel/camping (locally owned and run) called Jaguar Azul and we really really did not want to leave (a room with a view of the hills for 12AUD) but we made ourselves do it anyways because we had just been resting in one place for two weeks (and regretted leaving a lot). </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Samaipata market</td></tr>
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Near Samaipata there are also ruins of a pre-Incan fort and the surrounding buildings, part of which is a huge stone with carvings on it (mostly shapes of animals). There are also tiny steps and tens of 'doors' that lead 'into' the rock. The doors made me feel like at some points there were actually some spirits living inside the rock or behind it, in another world. It is hard to explain but they were not just carvings on a stone. Most people are quite unamazed by the fort, but since we haven't seen the more magnificent ones (the most famous being Macchu Piccu), the visit was pretty impressive to us. </div>
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Our next stop was Vallegrande (altitude <a href="tel:2030">2030</a>m) - a place known as the last place where Che Guevara tried to lead another revolution, without success. During the year that he spent in the area, he was unable to break through the brainwash-power that the government had over the people. Right now Che is very respected and even worshiped in the area because now they actually understand that he had good intentions, plus he brings in all the tourists.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inappropriately cheerful at the place where Che's body was exhibited after catching him</td></tr>
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The place where his body was exhibited to the public, the place where they cut off his hands from his body and the place where his body was buried in a common grave (it took years of searching until the skeleton was found again and taken to Cuba) are just about the only things for tourists in Vallegrande. There are literally no pubs or bars (after cirlcling the center for 45min we literally found zero places to have a beer) and the only food options you get are (very greasy) rice with (equally greasy) chicken or very greasy burgers, even in the places that call themselves 'restaurants'. In other towns at least you can pay 5 times the price of local food and get some tasteless rip-off of some European dish. </div>
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By now the situation has gotten that far that eating has become the biggest burden we have (the second being that we can't just normally buy fuel) . Finding a place to eat always takes hours and even then we just don't want to eat whatever we find. Going to shops and cooking isn't much better because in most towns you just have the small corner shops that don't really sell much plus you are supposed to know what they sell there, as you can't get in (and people get angry if you ask them) . Market is another option, except most hostels don't have a place to cook or forbid cooking in them. By now I weigh less than I did in highschool. </div>
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Next we headed towards Sucre (altitude <a href="tel:2810">2810</a>m), which is called 'the white city' as all the houses in the centre are regularly whitewashed and it really does look lovely. But to get to Sucre we had about 80km of roadworks to go through (in addition to the paved road) . For a gravel road, it was pretty ok and the views were extremely scenic as most of the road is a preservation area for cactuses, some of which are probably up to 10m tall. </div>
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We were having some breakfast (biscuits and water) on the road, overlooking a river valley when we noticed that there was an excavator above the road that we were about to drive through and everything that he was excavating was falling on the same road that we were supposed to take. We observed some more, wondering how we were supposed to go through when we saw a car coming from the opposite direction and very slowly crawling along the mostly dry riverbed that was running parallel to the road . We also observed that the excavator driver did not stop when the car came through, or the second car or the third car. </div>
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So as we made our way towards the spot with the excavator, we noticed that many of the rocks rolled all the way into the riverbed, to the place, where the temporary 'road' for the cars was. We stopped in front of the place with the flying rocks and at the same time with us three other cars got there and stopped to wait for the machine to stop. The other drivers had not seen that the excavator driver actually doesn't give a fuck and has no intention of stopping - probably because an hour of work for the excavator costs more than human life around here. So after some waiting and seeing that he actually isn't going to care, I got off the bike, Erik waited for a moment when there were not that many rocks coming (not all of them made it all the way down to the riverbed, only some occasional ones) and drove through as he is slightly faster and maneuvers better with less weight. When he had gotten through, I sneaked through on foot from the far end of the riverbed, where the rocks didn't reach. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sucre</td></tr>
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In Sucre we thought that we might go and see some other travelers so we decided to go to a big and well-known backbacker hostel. We actually paid more for our dorm beds than we usually pay for a private room in local hostels (this was our very first dorm-stay during the whole 17 months of traveling). It also turned out that the food and drinks (which you were not allowed to bring in from outside) cost more than twice as much as outside the hostel. And for that price you didn't even get anything especially good. In addition, Sucre was having troubles with water, which meant that the whole town was without it for half a day every day. They just ran out. Every day. </div>
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I am not sure that I should focus that much on the negative sides of our travels, but you can see the good sides from the pictures (the incredible nature and other interesting things) and it would be quite boring to just read about good things. Sucre really was a picturesque city, as it was situated on a hill, surrounded by valleys and them some more hills. Driving into it was like being in a movie. I even made a video about it although I later discovered that my camera hadn't been recording after all. </div>
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Another interesting thing that I had read about Bolivia, but hadn't seen yet, were people dressed in zebra costumes organising traffic on pedestrian crossing - Bolivia's attempt in making traffic safer with dancing animals. The idea is good but how about educating people instead? The people around here really do not understand how traffic works. Stopping in the middle of the road, blocking two lanes and thirty cars? No problem. Changing lanes, blocking your way (without blinkers of course. you are weird if you use blinkers here) and then stopping in front of you? What's wrong with that? Passing other cars at a curb with absolutely no visibility, just hoping that there is no ongoing traffic? Of course. </div>
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Climbing higher and higher, all three of us were getting affected by the altitude. It was the worst for Starcraft who was really struggling because he didn't get enough oxygen to pull us up the hills. Huffing and puffing, so far he has still managed to get us to our destination, although lately we have learned to make our stops on top of hills, just in case Starcraft doesn't want to start. We are also both panting and gasping for air. I start my mornings with coca-leaf tea and chew them occasionally the rest of the day to deal with my altitude-caused headaches (and the leaves really do help). But we are pretty lucky because some people get so sick that they spend several days sick in hotel beds until they give up and head to lower altitudes. </div>
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Our next stop was Potosi. Lying <a href="tel:4090">4090</a>m above sea level, it is the highest city in the world. During the colonial times they found silver in the mountain Cerro Rico (The Rich Mountain), and the Spanish immediately made the <u>indige</u>nous people and slaves dig out the silver. When the people didn't want to work anymore (because of the working conditions) the Spanish made up a mountain god named Tio (comes from the word Dios, meaning god), which is a mix of the indigenous Quechuan Pacha Mama (Mother earth) and a devil-like creature, who will take revenge on anyone who does not want to work. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tio with the gifts that the miners have brought him in order to get protection</td></tr>
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So for years they pulled out the silver, making the ruling Spaniards richer and richer and killing 8 million (!!!) people who were working for the riches. The mountain is nicknamed 'the mountain that eats men' because the usual life expectancy of the workers is 35 years. At the hight of its riches at 1600, (150,000 inhabitants) the city claims to have been the biggest in the world. That may not be exactly true, but it was very big and rich considering the time and its location. </div>
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Now why would I use the word 'is' when I am talking about the past? Well that's because I am not only talking about past. When <u>the</u> mountain ran out of silver (not completely but enough to not be very profitable to mine it any more), the Spanish left, leaving behind a very nice center of a town and a mountain like a swiss cheese, but taking all the other riches with them - the wealth of the silver didn't make its way to the local people. </div>
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We went on a tour to the mines where hundreds of men still work now in the same conditions, using the same methods of work (drilling holes for the dynamite, blasting them and then taking the rocks out using muscle power) . When we walked through the low and dark tunnels, we encountered men pushing out trolleys on small rails (in many of the tunnels they use cartwheels instead), their faces covered in dust and cheeks full of coca. You could see that many of them hadn't slept (and probably eaten) in days. We could hear explosions coming from below us, in the deeper tunnels. We actually didn't go deeper than the ground level ( we saw one shaft that was going eight 'floors' down) but we felt the heat in the tunnel because the mountain is a former vulcano. The tunnels are full of dust and harmful substances like arsenic and asbestos. The salary for all that? Two to five dollars a day, depending on the day, as you only get money for the useful minerals, not by hour, so they occasionally have 24-, 36- or 72-hour days. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With our guide, before entering the mines. On the background, the miners' houses</td></tr>
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The most horrible thing though is that the youngest workers can be as young as ten years old. In fact, most of the men we encountered were barely grown up as well. The children that work there, do that usually because they don't want to work there in the future. What logic is in that, you may ask. But over here, when children want to go to school, they are literally not let into the school unless they have bought themselves the correct clothes for school and gotten a proper haircut (only certain styles are allowed), costing several months' weight for their parents. Now if the children have lost one of their parents (one reason for example that the father worked in the mines), they need to find ways to earn money so that they could get an education. For me the system is completely backwards because the poorest members of the society are actually cut off from having an education.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The fancy city centre of Sucre, built with the money from Cerro Rico</td></tr>
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The tourists that go to the mines bring them gifts like dynamite (you can buy it on the streets), soft drinks or coca leaves. Of course some of the tour organizers do it for profit but luckily we accidentally found a lovely lady operating a company called Amigos de Bolivia, who is genuinely worried about the children and for example on school holidays, when the number of children is the highest in the mines, suggests bringing notebooks and school supplies for the students instead of coca. I could write more and more about the mines, as it really left a big impression on me, and I still get goosebumps (not the good kind) when I think about it (2-3 miners die in the mines every month still) but I really recommend a movie they have made, following one of the 14-year-old workers of the <u>mine</u>: <a href="https://youtu.be/mZlpBQh_0jc">https://youtu.be/mZlpBQh_0jc</a></div>
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After leaving behind the sad (but beautiful) town in Potosi, we headed to Uyuni (atitude <a href="tel:3600">3600</a>m) which is the entrance to the biggest salt flats in the world. Having read innumerable lists of articles called 'The top 3/5/10/25/100 places to see in South America' and finding Uyuni at the top of every last one of them (ok, maybe it was in the top 3 in some of them) we just had to go and see what <a href="tel:10580">10 580</a> square kilometers of salt looks like. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In front of one of the salt hotels, where we had lunch. Could not keep my eyes open as everything was white and my sunnies had been stolen in Brazil</td></tr>
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Well, one thing is for sure - it is definitely very big and very white. People have gotten lost on it for days, which I have trouble understanding with the sun and the stars and the fact that you CAN actually always see some of the islands (it used to be a lake) or the edge. Not to mention the very new invention of GPS that almost every phone has...</div>
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We took a three-day tour as we also wanted to see some other sights, that were a bit too South of Bolivia for us to go there by the bike, considering that we are planning to go North after Bolivia. It is actually the first country on our trip where we have taken some tours, as it is quite cheap here. </div>
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We were sharing a 4x4 tour car with a local driver (of course only speaking Spanish), a lovely French-Austrian retired couple (English, German and French language for the wife, the same with much less English for the husband) and a couple made up of a 25-year old Brazilian girl who had altitude sickness half of the time (refused to use coca leaves; was always unhappy and whiny; spoke Portuguese and bad Spanish) and a 70-year old Bolivian man who insisted in taking 70 pictures at every stop with both his camera AND his girlfriend's phone in addition to making a video at each stop (spoke only Spanish). So we ended up being the translators of the trip. Never thought it would come to that. </div>
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All the natural wonders that we saw during these three days were breathtaking: The amazingly big and flat saltfield; the island in the middle of the salt, covered in huge cactuses; the mountains and the valleys; the colorful lagoons; the geisers at sunrise (4900m altitude, - 5c temperature) and the pools of naturally hot water and even the hotel made out of salt (actually a fake one, as the walls were stone, covered in salt), and the border between Bolivia and Chile, when we were less than 100km away from San Pedro de Atacama (we had been in San Pedro five months before). So the trip really was worth it, the only downsides being the fact that you had to pay a dollar for every time you used toilet (big signs everywhere threatening with a big fine if you should use the nature); you had to pay two dollars for using the shower in the hotel; our bit annoying strange couple (had to wait all the time for the girl to let us out of the car and for the man to finish taking all of his pictures) and the fact that in addition to us, there were also 25 other 4x4 tour cars doing the same route at exactly the same time. </div>
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We were finishing our trip on a Sunday that was unfortunately also the election day in Bolivia (this time they were not reelecting their drug-lord president but local government) which meant that the country was on a lock down. The people were not allowed to travel around, the purpose of that being that they would stay home and vote (we saw several faults in this logic such as what if you needed to travel to your nearest election office to vote) and that included us and our drivers. So when the first of our army of cars got stopped at a police checkpoint, all the others decided to detour through some small 'roads' to go around the checkpoint. The trouble was that we still had 100km of 'highway' before the end of our tour, and that part you apparently couldn't detour. So we spent half of Sunday getting into the cars, driving a few hundred metres, then someone stopping again (the drivers were scared because if caught, they would have lost their licence and car in addition to paying a huge fine), everyone else stopping, everyone waiting for 20min before getting back into the cars, driving for 200 metres until someone panicked and stopped... and so on. In the end we waited for the elections to end and we were the first test car to check that there were no more checkpoints (there weren't). </div>
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Before I came to South America the most impressing natural wonders I have seen were probably the fjords in Norway, the Great Rift Valley in Kenya and Uluru/Ayers Rock in Australia. Now I must admit that South America has totally taken over the top three. The Salt flats are definitely something very surreal just because of the size and flatness of it, in addition to the shapes on the salt and the islands. The Iguazú falls with the staggering amount of water falling down in one place is something that is impossible to imagine. And the Andes are breathtaking. I have seen only a tiny fraction of them (both now and five months ago when going from Chile to Argentina) but I have already seen an amazingly big number of different colours and shapes. It is as if every 50km you are in a completely new continent. The main colours of the Andes for me (so far) are bright yellows, oranges and purples and occasionally also greens, blues, reds and everything in between. And that is just the rocks themselves. At times it feels like a giant has lifted up whole mountains and turned them on their sides or broken them into pieces and tossed around or moulded statues out of them. And in the middle of these amazing hills there are also colorful lagoons, oasis' and plants, salt flats and different animals and birds. Words just cannot describe it so I added some pictures, which really don't do any justice to these amazing giants.
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-15577787386873583772017-11-11T13:17:00.002-08:002017-11-12T06:11:52.608-08:00From the centre of Brazil to the centre of Bolivia<div dir="ltr">
This is a real mammoth post and I do apologise for it but I did not have a phone for some weeks to write or add pictures or anything. So things that I want to share have been piling up.</div>
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I last stopped off where we had reached Catalão, which is a smallish town about 300km south from the capital of Brazil, Brasília. Brazil's futuristic capital was built in <a href="tel:1960">1960</a> smack in the middle of the country to aid in the development of the areas that were far away from the coast. Before that, all the money and activity had been mostly near the coast - in Rio and Sao Paolo and so on. The city centre, all designed by one architect, is made up of very scarcely located futuristic government and other administrative buildings (like the library, tv tower, bus station etc) on big empty fields between roads that had cars in 4-5 rows at least. The visual effect of the centre was quite cool as is the fact that they actually planned for the big raise in the number of cars, but for anyone who is walking... the distances are immense.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the house of Government of Brazil.</td></tr>
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During the week there we also visited another psytrance festival near the city, wandered into a higher-class house party and tried to see the National park of Brasília that is just a few minutes away from the centre of the city. On the gate we managed to negotiate the entrance price down to the price for Brazilians (because why should we pay double price). From the internet we had read about the multiple cool walking tracks where you are sure to encounter all kinds of animals and birds, so we managed to find our way past a big swimming pool with loads of people (of course there were no signs indicating the way or maps as to where the walking tracks or anything else is situated). We walked through a 1km track that consisted of thick quite boring bush with no animals or much to see. When we tried to get to the beginning of the other (presumably more interesting) tracks, we were stopped by the security guard who announced that the rest of the park was closed. So they have no problems selling you tickets when the park is actually mostly closed. That did not seem to bother the locals chilling by the pool, as they were apparently not interested in the rest of the park anyway.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu0jmJaX3PG-Ac6RIOzKndfyBLuEqjA2FYPlqym_9udcHaNwfmX7N5sQxb0lZMdPw2-MCauKQdiVrYZa4Karq-9AMul84pg4-PerKSB_dBLuE8pcg2O5yXAUPI3z-Xh3vT6rxxftqSJu8/s1600/SAM_5237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu0jmJaX3PG-Ac6RIOzKndfyBLuEqjA2FYPlqym_9udcHaNwfmX7N5sQxb0lZMdPw2-MCauKQdiVrYZa4Karq-9AMul84pg4-PerKSB_dBLuE8pcg2O5yXAUPI3z-Xh3vT6rxxftqSJu8/s640/SAM_5237.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging by a freshwater pool after not being let into the national park</td></tr>
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That is one thing that I have actually discovered in all latin america so far - people usually don't respect other people's time or well-being as much as they do in 'the western world' in Northern and Central Europe. They can be very loving, friendly, nice and so on, but making someone wait for hours is no problem (In Estonia you usually have a good reason if you make someone wait, if you see that you are not going to make it on time you actually let people know and you also apologise for it). Over here it is not even worth mentioning. Listening to your music on full volume in the bus is nothing frowned upon. In the beginning of almost every traffic jam you can discover a car that has stopped in the middle of the road because... well they wanted to, although there is plenty of room to pull over. Indicator lights were apparently accidentally fitted on the cars as they don't serve a purpose here anyways. And when you make plans with someone then they don't let you know when they change the plans or cancel them. Ant it is not because people are 'bad' or anything, it is just the normal way of being. It started bothering us especially in Brazil, but similar attitude is seen in most of the continent so far. At least in Estonia, the attitude is different and my own behaviour is very different (at least my aimed behaviour) - I always give my best not to cause discomfort to anyone else and try to be as considerate as possible.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunrise at a house party in Brasília</td></tr>
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Connected to that attitude and some of its consequences is why we left Brasília and in the end also Brazil without doing any capoeira and actually not even seeing any capoeira. We had this picture in our heads that there would be capoeira happening on street corners and parks everywhere we go but that is not really the case - you actually have to look for it. After a few failed attempts we were really not in the mood to search for it either so we decided that it will come to us if it is meant to be (it didn't).</div>
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After Brasília our original plan was to head straight towards Bolivia, although people were insisting that we simply can not leave Brazil without seeing the coast and the beaches and Rio and so on. We explained time and time again that firstly, it is not a small d-tour on a motorbike (a week to get there, a week to get back to the centre of Brazil and some time also staying there). Secondly, we are not that impressed by or interested in beaches, and thirdly, we are even less interested in big cities (the reason why we got Moto is because we wanted to spend more time away from cities). People were a bit sad and hurt by our unappreciativeness of their suggestions, but they said that in that case we at least need to go to Alto Paraiso. It was still 250km more north than we had planned to go but after many people insisting on us to go, we finally gave in.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On our way to Alto Paraiso was (one of the?) highest waterfall in the country</td></tr>
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Alto Paraiso (which translates to 'Highland paradise') is a small touristic town (or area) nestled between hills and valleys with hundreds of waterfalls. The town itself has a colorful vibe to it with hippies and bohemians roaming the streets - popular destination among Brazilians, not that well-known among foreign tourists. We unfortunately got there exactly when Brazil had a four-day weekend so the accommodation prices were way up and the town was full of people.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0FxapynEq82y8Q-DNE6dqdBuozbvGpG-mXVbLdM7m7BptBqjxsjUtADEYL5QkXdHwlDFYmhbXnz9vcPGDPOLXDwXPpyJJWedzJxLsa1h38bGt8xHR3HF2L6jE-ggsyr9aGV6NG7StoGA/s1600/SAM_5297.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0FxapynEq82y8Q-DNE6dqdBuozbvGpG-mXVbLdM7m7BptBqjxsjUtADEYL5QkXdHwlDFYmhbXnz9vcPGDPOLXDwXPpyJJWedzJxLsa1h38bGt8xHR3HF2L6jE-ggsyr9aGV6NG7StoGA/s640/SAM_5297.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With our newly found host in Alto Paraiso</td></tr>
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So far we had not paid for accommodation in Brazil or Argentina (except when we gave some money for the electricity and water that we used if we stayed in someone's place) but we were considering to pay for camping for the first time in Brazil in Alto Paraiso, before we found out the busy weekend price situation. So we asked a guy on a terrace of a bar, if he knows where to find a cheap accommodation option. He said that we can stay at his house for half the price of the cheapest camping option that we found (24 AUD for the both of us). In the evenings there was live music and busy nightlife in the centre of the town, during the day most tourists were out discovering the waterfalls so we did the same.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj8vLMlaqE7Qnc4xRKYOgaKvUN1bgTWOdbgxOOa35VLfw84b7eqlD7m3NOD_iGwZnIXcIAhZAxFmRw2FiEEt4NtFlOZSFOzexRnkDQR8hmyQng02F__lscNCToS7CVxIX4NC8pTlAo95s/s1600/SAM_5304.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj8vLMlaqE7Qnc4xRKYOgaKvUN1bgTWOdbgxOOa35VLfw84b7eqlD7m3NOD_iGwZnIXcIAhZAxFmRw2FiEEt4NtFlOZSFOzexRnkDQR8hmyQng02F__lscNCToS7CVxIX4NC8pTlAo95s/s640/SAM_5304.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was usually one main waterfall but before and after it, there were small waterfalls with smaller pools. </td></tr>
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There are dozens of waterfalls all in a 50km radius of the town, with walking tracks and waterfalls to swim in. The problem was that most of them were 20 reales (8 AUD) per person per entrance while our budget is 30AUD per day per person, which has to cover food and drinks, accommodation, petrol, unexpected expenses (motorbike repairs, stolen or broken phones or other things) and the tourist stuff, if we are doing any at that period. The waterfalls were very nice and lovely but not worth that sum for each fall. There were also other waterfalls that were free, but they were further away on a gravel road and needed a guide to get there (as we understood, the guide was free as well but did not have his own method of transportation, so that was not an option either).</div>
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So we ended up visiting four of the waterfalls in two days (managed to brake off one of the bike's shocks while driving to one), they were all very nice and you could swim in all of them (which some of the people used to wash their hair with shampoo in) but thanks to the big 'long weekend' thing, a bit overcrowded. So on a Sunday we headed to a neighbouring town with similar vibes, but smaller in size and with gravel streets. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCsAShO577rBb6_NZquYn2G7H6oJrq06BGrQqEVtJZGowceHfZrPaFYMWwBeG8-0YDAs6AV9-R1sxKbf8ZLCYJXYHhzDknGZP7JG3JI0QXumrBehzuZgAF-B7itW9sdzWnNUD_GRt-ges/s1600/IMG_20171107_085551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCsAShO577rBb6_NZquYn2G7H6oJrq06BGrQqEVtJZGowceHfZrPaFYMWwBeG8-0YDAs6AV9-R1sxKbf8ZLCYJXYHhzDknGZP7JG3JI0QXumrBehzuZgAF-B7itW9sdzWnNUD_GRt-ges/s640/IMG_20171107_085551.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The streets of Sao Jorge</td></tr>
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This time we found a bit cheaper option for camping and moved in in the morning when the majority of the people had already left to get home to Rio or were packing to do the same. We had not too many accommodation options as we had to stay in a camping place that accepts payment by card because neither Alto Paraiso nor Sao Jorge had an ATM to get any money out.<br />
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I put my phone to charge near the utilities block, as I had seen someone do a moment ago after which we met some people who were about to leave and chilled with them for a while. One of them was living in the tent that was right next to ours. After our neighbor had left to head home, my phone had also disappeared, leaving the end of the charger hanging sadly by the sink. Somehow my sunglasses had also run away from my bag in the tent, although they were prescription glasses and noone but me can see anything with them. I hope she was happy with the shitty phone and unusable glasses. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj52ufQEKD6v4EBw9jqTbjUlmMnJZAEkUWr38HVv8ur-ouQtPRtkHl1kfPaLH_sKyJwuWboQFG235DukI6usyNIyCCNWM7mcuF45-yy_Lv6kiyOvwsShMrV2XgFK8D4QxJqxRolJD_o-Jo/s1600/SAM_5351.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj52ufQEKD6v4EBw9jqTbjUlmMnJZAEkUWr38HVv8ur-ouQtPRtkHl1kfPaLH_sKyJwuWboQFG235DukI6usyNIyCCNWM7mcuF45-yy_Lv6kiyOvwsShMrV2XgFK8D4QxJqxRolJD_o-Jo/s640/SAM_5351.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We were in this kitchen, cooking, when my stuff walked away</td></tr>
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Before we actually reach the next state in the story, Mato Grosso, where we headed next, I can't avoid the big topic of Brazilian nature. Yes, I admit that I only saw five states and only around the areas that we passed but I do still feel that my criticism is justified and I will also tell you why.</div>
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Most of the first <a href="tel:2000">2000</a>+ kilometres that we had passed, after entering the country, were huge fields (later it was also mostly fields but maybe slightly smaller ones). And when I say huge, I mean that as far as you could see around you, all the way to the horizon, there were practically no lines of trees separating or segmenting the big empty wind-fields. The only trees were the ones that were at the most bottom bit of the valleys, because there was no point in making a field there anyways; or in the creepy eucalyptus forests, with trees growing in eery straight lines and no animals or birds, because no other plant could live there. And that was what we saw in the first four states, with only some small natural parks still having some nature to see (and pollute with shampoo and garbage) for quite an expensive price.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguA9No105C_Vk1vX9tZRaLRyNulvPiA4L7kkeaKHfd2tHkDmVH58kfOoQFlI6Px86_VWvj4HkllYY5eudpPRNmOGHuWCBbxAYGhO2HoV8r4RyeQNRYsmCMg9eIUxQVqhGMuhj9euHdisw/s1600/SAVE_20171110_172410.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguA9No105C_Vk1vX9tZRaLRyNulvPiA4L7kkeaKHfd2tHkDmVH58kfOoQFlI6Px86_VWvj4HkllYY5eudpPRNmOGHuWCBbxAYGhO2HoV8r4RyeQNRYsmCMg9eIUxQVqhGMuhj9euHdisw/s640/SAVE_20171110_172410.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">About the maximum amount of trees that was possible to see in the first two states of Brazil</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnlH7pirTwm6dy_nMCzWxia6yr3HJkyTwjv6cSBC8slm9gtaM8JELC209NN7SE6oXPHOnp9BunwzOHTDhasv-UXXDJdztHsDy8gxWUpXur9y5KImXoXlzT12LJ5ipzThgv2HlEXrByCk/s1600/SAM_5383.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnlH7pirTwm6dy_nMCzWxia6yr3HJkyTwjv6cSBC8slm9gtaM8JELC209NN7SE6oXPHOnp9BunwzOHTDhasv-UXXDJdztHsDy8gxWUpXur9y5KImXoXlzT12LJ5ipzThgv2HlEXrByCk/s640/SAM_5383.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spent a night by a sweet little (but full of trash) stream, where the locals were swimming in the evening. In the morning we woke up to the sound of it being destroyed</td></tr>
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Now you could say "but the other states are better! They have the whole Amazon rain forest, and Mato Grosso is not that bad and surely there must be places where you do have a few trees still left in the states you saw as well." but I say "So what? Everything is connected". On the big fields, the strong winds, that have nothing to stop them, take away the fertile top layer of the soil. There is no forest to keep the humidity so the air is dry and it rains a lot less every year as well, which further makes the soil more dry for the wind to take it away.<br />
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All that makes these humongous fields less and less fertile and people have to use more and more artificial fertilizers for anything to grow in the soil. So the fields are actually less and less fertile still every year. And this all means that new land is needed for growing different stuff and that means that more forests have to be taken down to make more fields. And the new land is being claimed right in the only places where there still is some forest to take down - the Amazon and Mato Grosso etc. </div>
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The nature changed when we got to Mato Grosso</div>
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So driving through Mato Grosso was refreshing, as there still was some actual nature left, especially by the road that we took - there were native people's protected areas that were hidden away from the road with signs 'do not enter' blocking every road. At least they have found their safe haven for now. Let's hope the businessmen don't run out of space to make fields and mines soon.<br />
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We had just two real contacts with wildlife in Brazil, both in Mato Grosso. The first was when we were having a stop by a small river, when we noticed a few monkeys climbing around the trees on the other side of it. Suddenly one of them noticed us and started coming towards us. The next moment there were at least four of them moving fast towards us along the branches while not letting us out of sight. Although most monkeys are not really dangerous, it was a bit scary how they rushed so we got up and got our stuff ready for leaving. Our sudden movements also frightened them so most of them turned back; only one lingered a bit more and kept a watchful eye on us. The second encounter with wildlife was when we were camping and making a bonfire when we heard someone walking in <u>the</u> dark behind us. It turned out to be a big hairy tarantula that made its way right across our blanket before settling in one of my thongs. <br />
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Our last 500km to the border were nice visually but the culinary side leads me to stop a bit longer on the topic of Brazilian food. Mostly because I have had stomach troubles after Alto Paraiso and I have been much more sensitive to what I eat (the 40+ degree days that we have had since then haven't helped either) . Right now I am not talking about big towns or rich people or expensive restaurants, where surely it is possible to find all kinds of options when you are willing to pay.<br />
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I am talking about the options that you get in the smaller towns where you might have two places to eat or thirty, but it does not matter as what you get from there is the same. And this is exactly what average people eat. From the early hours to late afternoon you could go to places called 'lanchionette' which is a place where you can get up to five-six different pastries( called 'salgados') - all deep fried, all filled with meat, some having mandioca/tapioca/yuca (the potato-like root that they loved in Paraguay) pastry instead of the normal pastry. Sometimes you got a coffee as well (premade, weak, with lots of sugar) and some soft drinks or candies. Some places sold only two different variations of salgados and had no coffee. <br />
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From eleven thirty, all the restaurants and churrascherias also served 'churrasco' (grilled meat) or 'marmitex'. Marmitex meant a big bowl of rice with a pile of barbecue meat and some beans, churrasco meant that you could put the same ingredients on your plate yourself. In bigger towns you had also places where you could add some salad or vegetables, in small places that was usually not an option or you had to pay extra, even if you wanted to swap some meat for salad. <br />
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The same ingredients were also sold in all 'supermarkets' in smaller towns - the only available vegetables were onion, potato and garlic (sometimes pumpkin, although I never saw anyone eating it) and sometimes you found a few bananas and oranges as well, if lucky (but usually not). </div>
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When we did find vegetables and fruits, the prices were actually cheap. And it was, in reality, possible to find them in every single town and village. But selling and using vegetables was just not very common. They were happy with their rice, beans and meat. They are just not interested in vegetables. And the difference between a 'churrascheria' and a restaurant? Can't be sure, because many 'restaurants' served a few hours of 'churrasco' during the lunch and all the rest of the time just sold 'salgados' (by my standards that is not even an 'eatery' and certsinly not a 'restaurant'. Jumping a bit ahead, I can say that Bolivians like meat, sweets and anything deep fried any time as well, before they even consider eating vegetables.<br />
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Before we actually cross the border, which we were, at that point, looking forward to doing, because of the food, nature and language situation (we did not try super hard to learn Portuguese as we knew that after Brazil we will not need it again in the near future), I have to bring out some more interesting things that we found in Brazil.<br />
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*Brazil is a very colorful mix of people - it consists of the Brazilian native people, Portuguese colonizers, black africans (originally brought in as slaves), and the later arrived European, Arab and Japanise people. So there is also a wide array of cultures, religions, traditions and celebrations mixed together. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWKds4u8I6v6cIngR7R71NlHEF8gmCIQ-JrvVkvp_EEkatfezkKkKPzqU8kr62DvQYF0jHMHmTYB4j-jLXqLzYqF7KmOaiovnjgUQkjg1UHyqQ6mpOT8N9Ss1uGNG13fyclHtaatK3yN0/s1600/SAVE_20171110_175322.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWKds4u8I6v6cIngR7R71NlHEF8gmCIQ-JrvVkvp_EEkatfezkKkKPzqU8kr62DvQYF0jHMHmTYB4j-jLXqLzYqF7KmOaiovnjgUQkjg1UHyqQ6mpOT8N9Ss1uGNG13fyclHtaatK3yN0/s640/SAVE_20171110_175322.jpeg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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The celebration of one of the religious holidays originating from Africa</div>
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*In Argentina I once heard a guy who was looking for a new house say "It is a good house, good walls". It took me a few weeks (or maybe even months), until I actually noticed why he said that. Over here (in Brazil) , a block of houses is one continuous wall with (always closed) doors, when you look at it from the street. The houses are close together but divided by walls. Inside the house and little yard, everything is made of or covered in concrete or stone (sometimes there is a tiny little flowerbed among all this concrete). If in Estonia there are big open windows opening towards the sun to catch every possible sunray, then over here 'shade' is the key word, because hiding yourself from the heat is the main problem.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sea of little concrete boxes behind walls</td></tr>
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*In Paraguay, most places looked poor and run-down so you did not have big expectations to them working. Over here, everything looks quite fancy, modern and developed (and of course many aspects of life actually are) but it is very deceptive because inside all of those fancy supermarkets and offices you still have the same people working, who are not really interested in being efficient or fast or better in their job. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brazilian cities look and are quite modern</td></tr>
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*I already mentioned that people don't really care about traffic rules here much, the same goes for people who organise traffic in the cities. They don't really care about it being easy or logical. Half of the streets are one way and on half of the intersections you can't go either left or right. When we were still quite new to Brazil and hadn't really tried driving in bigger cities/towns, we were in a car of a local and I could swear that the guy who was driving was just circling the same places to make us feel disoriented and then kidnap us. We later discovered that he was probably taking the best and fastest possible route. Because the traffic is organised as it is, you have to circle around and cross the same intersections various times until it is possible to actually go where you want to go. We had to drive 4km to get to a house less than 100m away in the ultramodern capital, where you could surely organise the traffic better, considering that the original architect of the town has given you at least three-four rows on each side of the road to organise the flow of cars. <br />
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About 300km before the Bolivian border, we found out that it was going to be 700km of gravel road until we get to the first big town and the start if paved road. Later it turned out to be 300 but because we had accepted that our fate was to do the 700, the 300km came as a very welcome surprise (although it was quite annoying still).<br />
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So we made it to the border on a Sunday afternoon to be greeted by some very friendly border-guards, who saw nothing wrong with us owning a Paraguayan bike that was not on our name. They just told us to get an exit stamp at the next building. Before we were able to get back on the bike, another guy showed up who stopped us. He told us that our bike actually needs to have papers of entrance to Brazil and an insurance as well, but it was too late for that anyways. The bigger problem was that the stamp that they had on the border, was not good enough for us, as we were from another continent, so we had to go 100km back to the previous town to the federal police.<br />
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So we drove all the way to the town and back, got pass the Brazilian Border and reached the Bolivian. They were busy searching through a car and didn't really care about us. They said that if we go back towards the Brazilian border, there should be a place to get the stamp if we wanted to. We only found some guys drinking coke and having a siesta in front of a mud-hut between the borders, so we entered Bolivia without any paperwork. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting our exit stamps from a closed Federal Police building</td></tr>
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We spent the rest of the day enjoying our first hotel room in the last two months since Paraguay had been the last place where we could afford them. The next day was Monday so we got stamps in our passports. The immigration lady was a bit suspicious at first when people from a country that she didn't know existed, claimed that they have a right to stay in the country for 90 days without a visa, but finally she found Estonia on her lists. Things were a bit less smooth at the aduana (department of transportation or something similar), as they actually didn't have Estonia or the make of our motorbike (Star) in their system. So Erik is now officially a Finnish driving a 'Starcraft'. Our bike already had a first name (Moto) so now we decided that it also deserved a second one - it is now named Moto Starcraft. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYDMn4pID_S2RMh-ZL74fFfvwRZpOoxvOIEcnUjI7WPigfu8kT2GLPjgFhvUAEG5z5H_H4KV9wdsbJi2N5FvGyBFfPCI-lToEnT59bDH8g9zhyphenhyphenn1nf7SiH5ldQkqeZOH8EE6pqvbXp2z0/s1600/SAM_5441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYDMn4pID_S2RMh-ZL74fFfvwRZpOoxvOIEcnUjI7WPigfu8kT2GLPjgFhvUAEG5z5H_H4KV9wdsbJi2N5FvGyBFfPCI-lToEnT59bDH8g9zhyphenhyphenn1nf7SiH5ldQkqeZOH8EE6pqvbXp2z0/s640/SAM_5441.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Visiting a local shop</td></tr>
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In the first few days of being in Bolivia (our way through the sparsely populated area from the border town to the first bigger one) we already saw much more wildlife than in Brazil. We saw a deer, a black jaguar, some capibara-like things (we saw capibaras only in cities in Brazil. They are world's biggest rodents and look like dog-sized guinea pigs), ostritch-like birds (got a video of us having trouble catching up with it with a bike) and also some dead crocodiles. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Capibaras</td></tr>
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We saw several indigenous villages on the way and visited one as well. Their houses were made out of mudd and wood, with grass roofs (as were many non-indigenous towns on the way) and they make jewelery out of seeds, but we didn't encounter many traditional clothes. They still have their own languages and traditions and they have communal small fields where they grow food for themselves. Some villages are probably more welcoming than others but they are all happy if a passing tourist spends a bit of money in their village. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting lunch in a village</td></tr>
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On the way to Santa Cruz, we also stopped by some towns founded by the Jesuites. They all had very lovely town centers with a central plaza (a nice well-taken-care of park with plenty of shade and places to sit), a beautiful church by the plaza, with carvings in wood and stone, and carved wooden pillars. The other houses and businesses around the central plaza follow the same style - wooden pillars and small painted decorations on the houses. I liked that even businesses like banks and phone shops had made their signs out of carved wood. Houses often followed the same style throughout the whole town, although the further from the centre, the less strict the style (wooden pillars and covered walkways seem to continue even into the biggest city of the country).<br />
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A bank has made an effort to blend in</div>
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On the 1. of November evening we were circling around San Ignacio and noticed that the center of the town was quite empty of people and most businesses were closed. During the day we had seen quite a lot of people around the graveyard and we noticed many people moving in this direction also in the dark. We figured out that it has to be somehow connected to All Saints day (Día de los Muertes around here or Hingedepäev in Estonia). </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Día de los muertes. Found the only small corner of the graveyard where there were a few graves without any people. Actually everything was full on people but it seemed disrespectful to start photographing them on this day</td></tr>
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My experiences with that day in Estonia are that some older people or people who have lost someone recently, do go to the cemetery as well to light a candle, but mostly in our house we just light a candle (if we remember that it is Hingedepäev) - so not a very big and important holiday. <br />
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When we made it to the graveyard in San Ignacio and parked Moto in the sea of motorbikes outside the gate, we realised that the whole town was there. All the graves were full of candles and flowers; people had come with chairs and snacks and drinks (nothing alcoholic) and were just sitting and talking to each other. And people of all ages did the same - from small children to teenagers to the oldest members of the family. Away from the graves there were people cooking and selling traditional food and drinks. That was quite an amazing experience and an amazing difference to the attitude in Estonia.<br />
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So now we are staying two weeks in Santa Cruz, which is the biggest city in Bolivia (but not the capital) to rest and organise some things. For example camping and living outside is starting to take a toll on all of our stuff - the wearing, the sun, the washing, the dust and ants chewing holes in everything. Everything we own is just falling into pieces faster than we can replace things. So we should deal with that a bit. <br />
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We also considered getting a new bike, as ours is a bit small for the mountains and needs more and more repairs every day. But since we entered with a Paraguayan bike, we have an obligation to exit with it as well. The only option is, when the bike is really really broken, but in that case we would have to give the bike away for free to the aduana. And we could not get the new one on our name anyways because we are foreigners. So for now we will probably just change a few parts and see how far we get with it.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fixing, fixing, fixing</td></tr>
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Since we have been so far off the popular tourist attractions, we have had a total lack of communication with others who are going through the same difficulties of being a European on this crazy continent. Before Santa Cruz we have had contact with Europeans on exactly five different occasions (in more than four months of traveling). Usually we try to avoid them as well (especially in Australia, where seeing another backpacker was nothing special) but for now we are happy to actually communicate with someone 'like us'. <br />
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The other day we were looking for a new phone for me when Erik decided to put his phone in his very loose pants' pocket. Clearly not a good idea while you are riding a motorbike. Long story short, a car drove over it and we were one phone down again (it is quite annoying because we don't have a tablet or a computer or anything like that). By now we are both proud owners of chinese smartphones.<br />
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Some things discovered so far about Bolivia:<br />
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*People seem to respect and value their surroundings and traditions more than in Brazil and Paraguay. The cities and towns and countryside are considerably cleaner of trash than all the previous countries. The city centers actually have a historic feel to them and have used traditional methods.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The church in Concepcion</td></tr>
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*There is a certain kind of 'shop ladies' who all look the same and act the same. They have a body shaped like a ball, they wear a short buttoned shirt and a knee-high (sometimes longer) skirt pulled up to the shirt and their hair is usually in two long braides (sometimes one). But the main thing about them is that they are absolutely not interested in selling you anything or even being nice or making eye contact. <br />
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So usually it goes like that:<br />
Me: "Tienes agua?" (do you have water?)<br />
Her (without standing up or looking my way or doing anything) : "Hay" (there is/ I have)<br />
Me: "Puedo comprar?" (can I buy some?)<br />
She remains quiet and as if I am not there. In 20 seconds she peeks up, sees that I am not leaving, sighs deeply and sends someone else to get the water. The sigh is especially loud if she does not have anyone else to send and she actually has to get up herself.<br />
I once wanted to buy something to drink but didn't really know what they were selling (second day in the country). The lady was getting more and more upset by my questions about what they had, so when I finally asked if I could see what she had, she said a very resolute and upset "no!" turned her back on me and walked away, although I was in the middle if buying other stuff as well.<br />
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*Before coming to Bolivia I had read about the fact that coca leaves are legal here to help against altitude sickness. What I did not know is that it is not the only reason they use it here. Most men constantly walk around with a big ball (from the size of a golf ball to a tennis ball) of leaves in one of their cheeks and you can buy it in every small shop. I suspect the shop ladies are the biggest consumers of the coca tea which is also sold everywhere<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A lady selling coca leaves - both of the white bags are full of them</td></tr>
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*The food is cheap, with the cheap everyday food usually being 2AUD for a big plate. It is still mostly rice and meat but there are also other options. For example there are 200 different varieties of potatoes in this country. And right now we are being spoilt by the choices of a big city (burgers, pizzas and shwarmas near our place).</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside markets are the places for the cheapest food</td></tr>
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*Some years ago Bolivia had a law that forbade selling fuel to any foreign vehicles. A few years ago it changed to 'you are allowed to sell fuel to foreign vehicles but you have to do so at double price'. That means that the rest of them still don't have to sell you. You can often get around it parking your bike a bit further away, borrowing a small fuel canister from someone (everyone with foreign plates or no plates has one on their bike) and taking the fuel to the bike. We once made it to a gas station with very little fuel and engine troubles so we decided to drain the fuel to clean the fuel pump. After we had fixed the problem, Erik went to get the petrol. When he spoke to others standing in the line with a cannister, he found out that this particular fuel station also requires you to have a local id-card. Because they had been speaking to Erik, the fuel station also refused to sell fuel to two other guys because 'they may give some fuel to us'. At this point we didn't have any fuel to take the bike anywhere else either. Luckily one of the guys with a cannister took Erik to the other station, secretly bought fuel to us and brought him back with the fuel. <br />
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*When for the Brazilians we did not look so special because all races are common there, then in Bolivia we stand out again because 60% of people are more or less indigenous. That means that we are considered rich tourists again. It is hard to explain to people the difference between a tourist and a traveller. Tourists are usually on their trip for a very limited time (usually a few weeks tops) so they sleep in hotels, eat in restaurants, buy souvenirs, go see as many tourist attractions as they can and generally have spare money to spend. We could not afford any of that, neither financially nor emotionally - imagine looking at tourist sites for eight months in a row every day or carrying around souvenirs from everywhere. We spend more time trying to figure out how the local life works and then trying to live that life. Waterfalls and touristic bars are a great refreshment but not why we are here.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-15347182462493968742017-10-03T09:28:00.000-07:002017-10-06T03:11:33.741-07:00To the centre of BrazilThe interesting thing about the Tres Fronteras area (where Argentina, Brazil and Paraguay meet) is that the only country that cares about who is coming in or going out is Argentina. So we got many Argentinian stamps in our passports after all the following: (1. Entering Argentina from Chile), 2. Exiting Argentina to enter Paraguay (when we went and asked ourselves our only Paraguayan stamp), 3. Entering Brazil from Paraguay (went to the Brazilian immigration ourselves for our only Brazilian temple) to get our local tax file number and entering Argentina again (to stay at Quiques place once more in Puerto Iguazú). 4. From Argentina to Brazil to buy our motorbike, to Paraguay to buy our helmets and then back to Brazil to take our borrowed helmets back 5. From Brazil back to Argentina 6. From Argentina to Brazil and then Paraguay to buy other necessary stuff for the bike (new tyre, straps for luggage etc) 7. Back to Argentina with a stop in Brazil 8. Out of Argentina for the last time. So eight stamps for Argentina and one for Brazil and Paraguay (which we only got because we demanded ourselves one just in case a very eager or bribe-hungry policeman takes a look at our passports and discovers that we have no proof of entering the country).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking off in the morning from our camping spot<br /></td></tr>
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Our first six days in Brazil were mostly spent on the bike, slowly covering the 1200km that were between us and Uberlandia. A couchsurfing host was really excited to meet us (had been writing to us periodically for a month already) so we made an effort to get there on the agreed date. This meant hours and hours of huge, windy, boring fields every day with main roads (we were taking them to make it there on the agreed date) full of trucks with drivers who had no manners (why they need to pass us from one metre distance if the other lane is free is simply a mistery to me). We found places to camp next to the fields, although it was occasionally difficult to find enough trees in one place (with no fence around it) to hide our existence from plain view.<br />
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We also had our first small crash - we found ourselves on a gravel road with large round loose gravel and tilted sides. So at one moment we found ourselves lying on our sides with our bike. Luckily our speed was about 15km/h at that time because of the horrible road. The fall was slow enough not to hurt us but the bike was heavy enough to bend or break off some of the necessary pieces on one side (the piece where I kept my foot for example). Luckily we were able to fix it all easily, the main fix done to us for free by some friendly local bike-shop guys.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiymVDHB5I67950QYWwqasGmDHaAn-7ka1pkFogy96h8zqMF3cn_qbFW8p_nNu-MBq4pkNTup1kv-m5W_RTvOIzsb3B0G_9lvs9nl3Ztdcp2FiPjdSicl-8GAyq-xTSQIc64Zkl7n4R01k/s1600/SAM_4841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiymVDHB5I67950QYWwqasGmDHaAn-7ka1pkFogy96h8zqMF3cn_qbFW8p_nNu-MBq4pkNTup1kv-m5W_RTvOIzsb3B0G_9lvs9nl3Ztdcp2FiPjdSicl-8GAyq-xTSQIc64Zkl7n4R01k/s320/SAM_4841.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting a free bike fix from some helpful locals</td></tr>
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Many (probably most of) Brazilians have not been very far from their city or state and it is extremely hard to find people who speak anything but Portuguese (oh how we miss Spanish now. We were already able to have conversations with people). So they have no idea what is happening in the neighbouring countries (or what their neighbors look like). So naturally, since we were on a Paraguayan bike and spoke a strange language, then many assumed that we were Paraguayans speaking Guarani.<br />
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Anyways, half an hour before getting to Uberlandia, it turned out that our very eager host couldn't host us after all. So we had spent six days on the most boring possible route to get to a city four days before needed (we were planning to visit a local psytrance festival, so there was no point in going anywhere else either), with no place to stay, the hotels in Brazil being way too expensive for us (sidenote: food and alcohol are cheaper than in other countries with much more choice and variety).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The celebration of a religious holiday in Uberlandia </td></tr>
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So we ended up trying to figure out our future at a local park, that was half covered with plastic chairs and tables from the nearby 'bars', half covered in people celebrating a kind of religious holiday. It was a mixture of african religions and Christian religion and mostly consisted of a very loud and extatic crowd of people with african ancestors making music with strange instruments and singing. Despite it being a Sunday evening, we saw at least one other festival-like event going on with lots of people who did not look like they had work the next day. We found out later that Mondays are for being at work, not actually doing work.<br />
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Through facebook, we ended up at the house of one of the previous owners of the psytrance festival, we were going to (Samsara). We were taken to the house/studio of some known dj's (we of course had never heard of them) and saw how the really rich live with their fancy houses and cars. The 'madame of the house' did not know how to work a washing mashine, how to cook, where juice comes from and probably has not touched a mop and bucket in her whole life. They were nice and friendly people but nevertheless, we headed to the festival grounds after one night.<br />
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Since we got there a few days earlier, we were immediately put to work, helping to build the stages and decorations. At first we did it just to feel useful and earn the food that we were also given 2,5 times a day (rice, beans and a potato salad two times a day. Also accompanied by a salad on the first days, which they seemed to run out later. Brazilian everyday food is mostly rice and beans). But in the end we also got free festival tickets and could have gotten food during the whole festival as well, as it turned out later.<br />
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When I think of Psytrance festivals then I don't really have much to compare to. I only know a small and very cosy one in Estonia that some of my friends are organising and a bigger Lithuanian one - Yaga festival. So I imagined a big group of hippies chilling out, taking part in workshops where you can make something with your own hands and enjoying the delicious artesan and healthy food choices, that have been chosen with care. The music has never been the thing that draws me there but generally I have found it mostly enjoyable, especially the stuff that is played at the chillout stage, which tends to be more experimental and understadable for me (I am beginning to sound old :D).<br />
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Brazil is a real country of Psytrance festivals. You have at least one happening somewhere in the country every weekend. That means that there are established groups of people who come and build it all - you have decoration teams, general amenities building teams and so on, who travel from festival site to festival site. Food and all 'souvenirs' sellers also go from festival to festival but arrive later. In the week that we spent at the festival site, we never saw anyone who was actually organising this festival (only different contractors) - each team was just doing their own thing.<br />
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The decorations of the festival were really amazing and there also was a number of hippies (or at least colorfully dressed people) and the music at the chillout stage finally turned into chillout on the last day. But there were also some considerable differences to the Baltic festivals: First, and biggest difference, was that people do not drink alcohol. They basically exclusively do only drugs. Drugs are cheaper than alcohol and more legal (you were not allowed to bring in your own drinks but LSD, mdma, cocaine and everything else were completely natural). That brings us to the second difference: the music was insane - a lot of the time it was so fast and 'full' that I did not even recognise any rythm in it. That goes especially about anything that was played after dark. And the chillout stage was not very chillout either for the first two days. (I did hear some music on the main stage that I also enjoyed on the third day, although it was still quite agressive to me) Thirdly, most people are not very interested in chilling out in the nature but going crazy on the dancefloor (with the help on the forementioned substances) so there were no workshops or anything like that. Fourthly, the food options were not similar to the carefully crafted healthy options of the festivals I know either. (There was one vegan place as well but their food was not very interesting or filling). It all does not mean that we didn't enjoy the festival, we just needed some time to adapt and realise what is going on.<br />
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After the festival we spent a week with one of the decorations teams of the festival. We stayed with one of them and saw the beginning of the construction of a new festival site. While staying with them we saw a closeup of how things are organised in Brazil (we also saw it before and after but we started understanding it there... so nothing personal).<br />
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Plans are made to be changed and then not shared with anyone so even if we had asked two minutes before where we were going or what was happening, there was a big chance that everything had changed already. When someone promises to meet you at 8 then by 12 you just stop waiting and leave (no need to apologize or feel bad because arriving late or not arriving at all really isn't something that is considered bad manners). Being efficient is not really a value here either (if you don't have a hammer for the nails then you wait for the hammer for an hour instead of doing something else that needs doing as well). The same 'speed of life' applies to anything from buying a loaf of bread from the store to doing official business in the bank. So I am not very surprised that South America has difficulties developing to be not a third world country - people are just way too relaxed to care enough. Everything I just described applies to all of the countries we have been in so far and it seems to get worse and worse the more north we get (and we still have a long way north to go).<br />
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But actually we are in the middle of Brazil to visit our Capoeira teacher proffesore Cocao. We had moved 260km away from his town by the time he got back home from his trip and now we attempted to cover the distance in one day. We also decided not to take the main road and chose a smaller route through some small mountains. We were very happy with the choice because unlike the big roads, we didn't have to stay near the edge of the road all the time to let all the trucks by - there were very little cars and virtually no trucks. But of course nothing can go smoothly without some adventures on the road.<br />
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Our first long stop was when we planned to have a 10-minute stop to see a cave on the way. We ended up having a 1,5-hour private guided tour in the caves. Our tour guide got carried away when he found out that we actually know and understand something about geology and kept taking us to new hidden parts of the cave.<br />
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When we first bought the bike we had a sure plan to strengthen our luggage rack a bit to carry the weight of our two bags better. Of course we didn't do it right away because it carried the weight well enough. Until it didn't. Luckily the thing broke of in a middle of a small town. Unluckily it was a Sunday. But with a help of some local guys at a pub we found a man who could weld and agreed to fix our luggare rack for us. He was a very idealistic guy who clearly had a plan to build our rack to be strong enough to never break off again. So after 1,5 hours of welding and bettering the system we were barely able to put the protecting panels back on our bike (the number of modifications is getting too high. I didn't mention that we also built a mobile charging system on our bike all by ourselves). After all this work he refused to take any money from us. That was the second time that happened in Brazil already.<br />
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The third longer stop happened when we were on gravel road up in the mountains with no real civilization close by. Suddenly something went wrong and when we got off the bike, we could see pieces of metal cought between the chain and the gears, the chain off and badly bent. At first view we were sure that this field was were we were going to spend our night (the sun was setting and we still had about 100km to go). Luckily we were able to get the pieces of metal out (still don't know where it came from because neither of us had seen it on the road) and bend and tighten the chain enough for it to work again (not working perfectly because one section of the chain was still bent) and take us to Cataláo the same evening after 12 hours of being on the road. So right now we are chilling in Cocao's farm with chickens and horses wandering around and trees full of fruits.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-77696772157106216222017-09-15T06:47:00.000-07:002017-09-15T06:53:32.194-07:00Life in ParaguaySo we spent a month in Asunción (the capital of Paraguay) doing literally almost nothing and resting. For the first four-five days we were only lying in bed and watching movies, only came out of our room to get and make new food. And we really achieved what we wanted: to be in one place and do nothing until you get tired of it.<br />
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Actually we sometimes did get out of bed for longer than it takes to shop and cook. Almost every weekend we went on some kind of trip with our host, Victor. If if wasn't for him (and the fact that he owned a car), then we mostly would only have seen Asunción in Paraguay. So we went camping a few times and visited a few of his friends as well. The nature in Paraguay is lovely - colorful birds and butterflies, plants that are quite different from what I have seen, large flatlands and wetlands often dotted with palm trees, a few hilly parts aswell, small waterfalls and lakes etc. There are no big, grand must-see natural sights that would evoke a wow-effect but it is 'muy lindo' (very nice, lovely).<br />
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Their capital is like a very big town, and does not really feel like a big capital city (2,000,000 people in 'Gran Asunción', meaning with the sorrounding urban areas). There is a lot of potential to be have a beautiful city centre - many houses from the colonial times with elaborate decorations and so on. The problem is that after the houses were built, no effort of trying to preserve them has been done. The beautiful architecture is just falling apart in most of the places. The city does not even care enough to tow away some burnt car wrecks from the streets (in their 'main square' for example or near the government buildings)<br />
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With all that said (the town looked a bit creepy with all the dilapidated and empty buildings) it was still interesting and relatively safe. As there are not enough tourists, there are not many criminals, who make their living off tourists (pickpockets and hustlers). And as the crackheads of the centre (can't get around them. They were part of our everyday life) had enough people to ask money from (and were very often given money by the locals) so they did not really have to rob anyone or take part in crimes that would hurt anyone either(surely not 100% true but mostly, yes).<br />
It turned out that Ernst (the crackhead living close to our house in an abandoned car) had stolen our host's car's tires a couple of times so they new each other as well :D<br />
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In the capital we also visited a few sights, like the train station (the first in all South America) and the zoo+museum and saw even further how much they care about their things. In the train museum, all the old paperwork, photos and equipment was just rotting there, where somone had put them when the museum was opened - under a coat of dust, unhidden from any influence of the weather or the traffic pollution. Old photographs curled up because of the humidity, pages of documents turning brown-black. In the zoological museum, the exaples of different animals that were put in jars and in a liquid to preserve them, were often half-out of the liquid, half of the animal remains decaying; most of the name tags or explanations gone. They also had the worst examples of taxidermy that I have seen. Not that I approve it in other situations but what I disapprove even more is stuffing a skin of animal randomly so that it locks like a bad mockery of a living animal.<br />
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Despite their inability or unwillingless to really care enough about many things, they really were lovely people (actually most people are very friendly, nice and helpful in any country we have visited). Paraguayans were sometimes a bit shy and afraid to start taking to us. But they were all actually extremely curious (because of the previously mentioned extremely small number of tourists) and interested in knowing more about us everywhere we went. At first it was quite difficult as our Spanish was quite basic. But by now we have improved a lot. So generally if the other person takes the effort to talk slowly and rephrase, we can manage (I recently had a successful 40minute conversation with a man who only spoke Brazilian Portuguese and I spoke Spanish. But I 'll get to that.)<br />
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If anyone has an interest in moving to a warm country and making an investment, Paraguay is your place. There are so many things this country does not have (in tourism sector or many others) that it is the right time to come and start them. Plus the relative simplicity to get residence and even citizenship.<br />
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Anyways, we left Asunción in a bus with a plan to spend 4-5 days going back to Ciudad del Este (a big shopping town on the border if Argentina and Brazil, where you can find anything pirated and cheap) through some southern Paraguayan towns. Method of transport: bus.<br />
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Our first destination was Villarica, which is 120km from Asunción. We reached Villarica 6 hours after the scheduled departure time. One of the reasons being that the traffic in Paraguay is as ill-organised as anything else. Everyone stopping at random places (in the middle of the road) and not really caring that there are other vehicles on the roads as well. The same width streets with the same number of cars in Northern Europe would definitely allow several times more cars through.<br />
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The other reason for taking that much time is that the buses stand and wait in every stop for a long time and pick up absolutely every person who waves their hand at the bus at random places as well (people wait 30m away from the station until the bus comes to them, instead of using the time that the bus is standing in the stop to walk to the stop). So there is not even room to stand and you are very lucky to get a seat even if you buy the ticket hours before departure.<br />
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That all brings me to the fact that travelling is not all fun. The pictures in Facebook show mainly the good and fun part of travelling. But there are also a lot of 'bad days'. The days when you are sick and tired of everything: nothing works properly, you can't buy the food that you would like, the stomach is constantly upset because of the local variety of bacteria, in every country/town there are new problems to solve, new systems of doing everything, different prices and/or currency. Not every day are you ready to deal with these problems. Sometimes you just wish that life was simple and straightforward.<br />
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The percentage of our 'bad days' had already gotten much higher before Asunción and we hoped that resting would solve that. But after we had spent most of our time of 'exploring Southern Paraguay' stuck in overcrowded and extremely slow buses, we discovered that we are still fed up with everything.<br />
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Our travelling had lost its purpose. It was time to stop and think about what we really wanted from this trip. It was immediately clear that we are not really that interested in the cities. But travelling with buses, this is what you get: going from the centre of one big city to the centre of the next one or you can also go to the small towns but then you really don't know where you end up in because there is no English information about them.<br />
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After considering different things, we decided that what we needed to improve our experience is to be able to see the nature and be able to stop anywhere we wished to. Depending on the public transportation set so big limits to us that everything had lost its value.<br />
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So our solution was to buy a cheap motorbike. That would also eliminate the husstle of walking around with our heavy backpacks trying to find a hotel (we have camping stuff so we can sleep anywhere we please) and give us a better opportunity to cook our own food more often (we could have used the gas cooker in cities as well... but we did not).<br />
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So we made as much reaserch as we could and decided to buy the bike in Brazil. We decided to base our search in Tres Fronteras- the place where three countries and three cities meet: the shopping town Ciudad del Este in Paraguay, Puerto Iguazú in Argentina (where we stayed the last time with our local friends and also this time) and Foz do Iguaçu in Brazil (short name: Foz). We spent the first day getting ourselves a CPF, which is like a Tax File Number that you need for buying anything from a phone sim card to festival tickets and cars-houses. You were supposed to be able to do it in a post office but when we got there we were sent (we had our bags at that day and it was abou 36 degrees) from the post office to the Federal Police, back to Post office, to Tax Office (and almost back to the Federal Police) but we finally got it.<br />
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We found a few Brazilians through couchsurfing who helped us with some advice so we finally found a used bike shop through the Internet who seemed to be offering what we wanted. So not really knowing how long it was going to take (days? weeks?), we headed to Foz one morning. Getting to the shop took us four hours. We discovered that the moto shop was owned and run by a very talkative guy, who only spoke Brazilian Portuguese but nevertheless he managed to explain to us that it is 4x more expensive to buy a Brazilian bike than a Paraguayan one (our first experience in how our communication with the locals in Brazil will be like).<br />
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So we chose a Paraguayan bike (400 Australian dollars - we still calculate mostly in AUDs), borrowed two helmets and rode to Ciudad del Este to buy our own helmets (helmets are compulsory in Brazil and we needed them immediately if we wanted to ride away from the shop with our bike). We did hold our breaths entering Paraguay again with a bike that was not really on our name. But none of the border guards or police even stopped us to check anything so that was a success. We found our helmets and immediately headed back to the bike shop because firstly we did not have a bike lock yet (didn't want to leave our new friend on the street while we search for other necessary things) and secondly we still needed some work done on our bike - it had a frame on it for towing things, that we did not need and a broken indicator light.<br />
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We held our breaths even more when we were on the Argentinian-Brazilian border. Argentina is the only country at Tres Fronteras that actually has an efficient (read:existing) border control. The guy checking our documents did not care the least that the bike was Paraguayan and not on our name (we had the documents of the bike) so that was a success. Time from bike shop to home: just under an hour (compared to four hours in buses in the morning).<br />
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So now we are really looking forward to continuing our trip because we expect it to be much more like we wish to travel: being able to see some amazing nature and stop wherever we want plus not depending on the local transport. Even if we can not take the bike over the Brazilian-Bolivian border (which we think we can) in 1,5 months, it is still worth it budget-wise because we are saving on bus tickets, food and accommodation.<br />
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We will have another shopping trip to Ciudad del Este (things are considerably cheaper there) to buy necessary stuff for the bike and ourselves but we will do it by bus as we do not want to take our chances with the extremely corrupt Paraguayan police again (if they had stopped us with a bike in Paraguay, it would almost definitely have meant paying bribes). And on Tuesday we will head North to the Samsara music festival and to visit our Capoeira teacher near Ûberlandia.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-80331497099449971092017-08-07T06:53:00.001-07:002017-08-08T07:46:15.195-07:00From Argentina to Para-where?<br />
So we made it to Puerto Iguazú (Argentina), which is situated in a very special place for two reasons. Firstly, it is at a place where the Parana river is the border dividing Argentina, Brazil and Paraguay (viewing platforms on Brazilian and Argentinian side, a muddy shore on Paraguayan... we'll get to that). Secondly, it is very close to the Iguazú falls which are the 'largest waterfalls system in the world'. The amount of water falling down is unbelievable. I can honestly say that was the god of all waterfalls that I have seen (being away from Estonia is getting to me. I am actually little-by-little starting to describe things by more than just 'all right' :D). Anyways, added a picture from the Internet because it is impossible to get a shot that would do this place any justice.<br />
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But sights are sights. What we actually will remember the most is the people we stayed at. So the guy we had met on a bus (coming back home to Argentina after living in different parts of the world for 15 years) took us to his friends' place where we camped in the garden for some nights. We were the first europeans (non latin-american) that they had ever had a longer conversation with and seemed to be pleasantly suprised that we don't bite. We had long conversations in Spanglish and tasted the best barbecue - asado.<br />
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Random facts about Argentina before moving on to a new country.<br />
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*They love their asado and they are very good at it (and are not shy to say it). There are grills burning on random streets and by the road (and under the bridges or in the middle of the road) from morning until evening.<br />
*They are crazy about their maté. Every morning every Argentinian takes his/her maté cup, fills it with the herbs, fills a thermos with hot water and walks around the whole day, pouring new water on the herbs and drinking it through a metal straw. When friends/family come out together, then they share one or two sets of thermos and cup.<br />
*Argentina is quite expensive, which is the reason why we spent so little time in this country. It had cut a bit of a hole in our budget (despite the fact that we had still not paid for any hotels-motels so far).<br />
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So we decided that we are tired and need a rest. After working our asses off in Australia (it was physically pretty hard and crazy hours) and then going from one place to another almost every day, solving random problems, not really eating properly and being a bit ill doing it... we decided to try to find a place to rent for a month. We knew that Paraguay was cheap, we didn't know anything else about it. We tried to find some couchsurfing places or Airbnb but there were not too many options... and hotels (especially cheaper range ones) were almost impossible to find online.<br />
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Paraguay is one mysterious country - noone knows anything about it. Years ago, Asunción was the first center of all the exploration of all the continent and they had the first railway the whole South America. Then they decided to fight with Brazil, Argentina and Uruguay (I have now heard at least for versions about the starting reasons), lost the war (duh...), lost 90% of their male population and have not really recovered ever since.<br />
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The country spends literally nothing on developing any kind of tourism (I believe that this is the official page for any tourists visiting the country. http://peltolaparaguay.weebly.com ) and there are almost no sights recommended anywhere. We have now spent 1,5 weeks in this country and we have seen four non-latinos, all here because of some (volunteering) project, not tourists. We have met one local person who speaks English. So I can not stress enough how un-touristic this country is. The only place you can buy souvenirs is the central square of the capital - they fill just a corner of the square because there are no people there to buy them anyway (I am sure there actually are a few in the capital... probably).<br />
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To top it all off, about half of the country is virtually uninhabited. In the western half of the country, the Chako, lives only 2% of the whole population of the country. If you have done something really bad, this is the dry forest, where you will never be found.<br />
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Already entering the country, there was no border control - we asked to be dropped off the bus by the border and asked to get stamps in our passports to show that we have entered the country legally. We also gave clearly not satisfactory answers to their questions about our plans in the country etc... but they let us go in anyway.<br />
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We spent a few days in Ciudad del Este and paid for a hotel for the first time (here we can finally afford the cheap ones). It is a crazy shopping town where you can get fake everything. The Argentitians have to take their fake CAT shoes over the river from Brazil in a boat (met a guy who was doing that) but the Paraguayans can just walk across the border. Right next to the border crossing are big fancy shopping centers and streets filled with makeshift 'shops' as well. This shopping jungle was where we probably saw a few tourists as well but they could also have been blonde Argentinians (a suprisingly high number of light-haired people in there).<br />
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Anyways, we were quite puzzled at first. We were still trying to find a place to rent over the internet but things do not happen through internet around here, especially through any international pages (and pages in English). Every time we were hungry and decided to go out to eat something, all the eating places seemed to be closed (and we had seen them open earlier). The set-up of any given street seemed to change according to the time of day, with businesses opening and closing at seemingly random times. And to top it all off, there was really noone to ask (and even googling gives little answers).<br />
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We finally found an Airbnb near Asuncion and although we had not planned to go to Asuncion at all, this seemed to be a place with a good price (and a 45% discount for staying the whole month) so we booked the whole month. We had a two-day stoppover in a town on our way before we finally got to Asuncion and got on a new bus to the location where the Airbnb app had directed us. We were a bit worried because we hadn't heard back from the host but since he had confirmed our stay then we were still optimistic. It turned out that the house did not exist. At least not where we were. And the host was not answering his phone either.<br />
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So being obviously pretty disappointed (as we had come from the other side of the country), we wrote to another Airbnb host with a bit more expensive price and asked if we can stay for a few nights (to make new plans), took a bus back to Asuncion, came off at a random stop (where was even the centre we did not understand ... not very clear from google maps) and sat down in a park. The following hours include a new friend crackhead, his friends patroling the streets, a 'hotel' that we paid for by the hour (complete with a used condom in the corner) and some scary and relieving moments. Nothing bad actually happened.. just quite a few 'what the...' moments in one evening.<br />
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The 'what the..' moments continued when we made contact with our new host and it turned out that he lived just a few blocks away from the adventures of the previous night. It is also quite a coincidence that our friend the crackhead (I never remembered his name but let's call him Ernest as I have a feeling that I will write about him again) lives right across the street from a local police station in an abandoned mercedes. And the said police station is our neighbour. I have passed his car and seen the light of him smoking from a can.<br />
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Our host/landlord Victor lives in a cool apartment with a big balcony with a view to the river (over a slum) so we'll stay here to rest for a month. We didn't want to live in the capital but we have a good deal with someone who can explain the local life to us in English. It would be extremely difficult to find anything like that in a smaller place. We also have three dogs living with us. The newest edition to the family arrived about the same time as us and is a funny little puppy called Pochoclo, who is so fat that he can't get up or down the stairs.<br />
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From what I described, it doesn't sound like a very nice neighborhood... well on the one hand, it is not. On the other hand, we are basically at the center of the city and there are safe routes as well (during the day, all routes are safe). In Asunción (and other Paraguayan towns), the city changes a lot also according to which corner you turn and the time of day. One moment, you have tens of busy normal people moving around and doing their thing, behind the next corner, there are wooden shacks built right on streets with people in rags, behind next corner, completely nothing, behind next corner ten bodegas (bottle shops) and fast food places.<br />
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In the same apartment that we live in, there is also a Spanish guy who has lived here for four months and he has never had any trouble. It is because despite the way the country may look, all the people are nice and friendly and very helpful and very curious. People here are a bit shy at first because they have most probably never spoken to any Europeans before but very welcoming and nice.<br />
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Some random facts about Paraguay:<br />
*People still love asado and maté, but Paraguayans drink even more of Tereré, which is like Matè but cold (you have ice in your thermos) and the 'cup' is made of cow horn. All kinds of different herbs are also added to the mix, which you can buy on street corners.<br />
*They are crazy about Mandioka. It is a kind of root which is usually boiled and then it tastes exactly like boiled potato. They use it like the rest of the world uses bread by the meal (you get a plate of boiled Mandioka with every meal you order) but they also make different bread-like products and other dishes out of it.<br />
*Riding a city bus is quite an experience (it is an experience the first time but a source of frustration all the next times). After you have flagged down a bus (it stops if you signal it) and are almost in the bus, the bus starts to move. The driver is selling you the ticket while at the same time picking up speed and dodging other vehicles. The bus also has stops but apparently you can get on and off wherever you want. Sometimes the bus stops every 50 meters. The bus starts to move and sometimes already 5 seconds later (and I swear I am not exaggerating) someone pushes the button, the bell rings and the bus stops.<br />
The buses go up to 40km out of the center of the town here so in order to get to the last stop in any reasonable time, the driver speeds up very suddenly and stops at the last moment before/after every stop. That means that all older people or mothers with small children are given seats immediately even in packed buses (it would be impossible to stay standing up with this crazy driving)<br />
*You know the 'first train in South America' that Paraguay boasted. It now has no trains or railway. Oh sorry. There is one freight train that very rarely brings some goods from Argentina<br />
*Audiotuning is very popular around here. Quite a lot of people who have money install soundsystems that are so big that they can't close their car trunks anymore. They all listen to the same (horrible) beat while they drive around (and around and around) with the music turned up so loud that the only thing you hear is the panels of the car and the windows of nearby houses shaking. Best place to encounter these species of Paraguayans that we have seen: Caaguazú<br />
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*The locals also have a few bars but it is very common (in some areas more common) to sit in front of bodegas. They will even bring you a bucket of ice for the beers (as there are special prices when you buy 3-5)<br />
*The traffic gets crazier in every country we get to (and the police more corrupt)<br />
*Some prices (we still think in Australian dollar so 1EUR = 1,5AUD). Hotel room (out of Asuncion) - 10-20AUD, meal in a cheap restaurant - 3AUD, bus across the country 20AUD, bus in Asunción - 0.75AUD, 1 litre of beer 3AUD, 0,7l bottle of local 'rum' Caña - 3AUD, a packet of cigarettes - 0,75 AUD<br />
*Most people speak Guarani to each other but most speak Spanish also<br />
*Doing anything takes more and more time in every next country that we go to. Simple things like taking money from ATM (longest time: an hour on Sunday evening and a wait of over an hour on Monday morning) or buying a bus ticket takes forever. This is probably one of the reasons why 'being late' has no meaning here. If you get where you planned to get on the same day that you planned, you are not late.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-60627275052081667902017-07-23T10:31:00.001-07:002017-07-23T10:31:58.091-07:00From sea to desert to mountains to other side of continentA few days in Guanaqueros easily turned into a week. But we managed to do other stuff besides resting and chilling as well.<br />
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For example we went kayaking on one day. I was quite grumpy about it at first because the idea of going on water and probably getting wet on a 13 degree cloudy day did not seem like a good idea at all. But we did get a whole new perspective on the area and saw some sea creatures. We also wanted to buy some seafood from some fishermen who were working on their boat nearby but ended up getting a big bag of oysters for free. We also bought some fresh clams from them and had a big seafood orgy back at home. And the next day we got fresh fish brought to our door by a motorbike so taking full advantage of the proximity of sea.<br />
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We also went climbing and hiking in the nearby mountains and visited a guy called San Pedro there. It was just a friendly and relaxed first hello but I have the feeling that we will encounter either him or his relatives again on our trip.<br />
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It was also quite cool to take part in a local birthday party of a friend of our host. That was pretty similar to Estonian parties with bonfire and getting home at 7am (never saw that in Australia)<br />
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Our original plan (or more like 'idea' because we still do not make plans) was to cross the Andes at La Serena and then head towards Uruguay through Argentina. But it turns out that most of the border crossings are closed for the winter (snow and ice etc) so we had a choice to turn back and cross near Santiago or head more north.<br />
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So we hitchhiked our first car (to be honest our host Juan found our ride for us when he was dropping us off to the edge of town) and got ourselves a new friend for almost two days. Our truck driver did not speak a word of English but that did not stop him from communicating to us for the whole 1200 km that we drove with him (75kmph because we had a load of AdBlue and batteries and other chemicals on our trailer). He also bought us all our meals and drinks on the way and had us pitch our tent on his trailer.<br />
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So after hitching another car in Calamá, we made it to the driest place on earth -the Atacama desert and into the most famous town called San Pedro de Atacama. Since the air is so dry, then the temperatures 'work' differently there than in other places (it is over 2km from sea level as well). In the daytime it is 12-15 degrees but in the sun it feels like it is at least 25. At night the temperatures drop to zero (or below, since it is winter).<br />
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The town itself is 'made out of desert' so most houses are made out of sand. It is quite touristic but at the same time there is quite a big community of hippies who sell stuff on streets during the day and make music together on the main square in the evenings.<br />
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The views around the town are amazing. There are snowy mountaintops all around (a big part of them are volcanoes) the valley where the town is situated. There is snow also besides the roads in some places but in a lot of the places there is salt instead of snow. So we rented bikes one day and went exploring with a Chilean guy that we met hitchhiking. After riding 12+ kilometres to the very famous 'valley of the moon' it turned out that we can not get in because we didn't have helmets or reflective vest. Apparently some tourists had fallen and hurt themselves because they suck at riding a bike and now everyone had to suffer.<br />
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Since we had come all this way, we turned off the road and just went exploring some nearby hills. We found amazing canjons and a cave with the whole floor covered in a thick layer of salt cristals. The boys disappeared into the cave and appeared 40min later at the top of the hills/cliffs. I was wondering how long I should wait before going back and callinh for help.<br />
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I went back to the town as I was not feeling very well (a bit of a cold from sleeping in the tent in these conditions) but the guys went exploring some more. While we were in San Pedro we stayed with some local hippies (one of them was Juan's friend who we had met in Guanaqueros) at the edge if town (with a view to the biggest volcano).<br />
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The next day we were even more tired (and a bit ill) so we wanted to take a bus over the Andes to Argentina. As it turned out, there were no buses on that day so we decided to still try hitchhiking. Things looked pretty hopeless since in the 20min that we spent by the road, only two cars passed us. Luckily one of the cars decided to turn back and pick us up. So we started our long drive over the most amazing mountain range that I have seen in my life with a lovely Argentinian-Equadorian couple.<br />
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The Andes even look big on the map but the real thing is huge. It took us about nine hours to go over them and they were not quite finished even then. In these nine hours we saw very many very different landscapes and views. You could see the different processes that had formed these giant mountains from the shapes and colours (many different and amazing colours) that they had. In many places you could see that whole hills had been lifted up and turned on their sides by some otherwordly processes (the colourful layers of sediment did not run parallel to the ground). In other places there were enormous platoos covered in plants or salt fields. There were glaciets and snow and lakes and big cacti and llamas (or alpacas) and some local people living in their stone huts. So nine hours of being amazed and suprised and having ears lick up tens (closer to hundred) of times. The Chile-Argentina border was 4,2km from the sea level but that probably was not the highest place of the road.<br />
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We had a big plan of finding a cheap hotel in the first big town that we arrive in and rest there for a few days since we were tired and had not paid for our accommodation since Moree (cotton picking). Our plan failed miserably because al the cheap hotels were full and the ones that had room were more expensive than a good hotel in Australia.<br />
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So we found an unused piece of land near the center of the town (it was too big to walk out of it) and tried to find a patch of land that did not have much garbage on it. While we were putting up our tent, a man appeared out of a makeshift shelter on the same plot(a few matresses, some plastic and cardboard) that we had not even noticed. Our neighbour approved of our camping spot and assured us that we had found a nice and quiet place to stay for the night (despite the traffic going past us). By the morning we already had two neighbors.<br />
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Dissapointed at the still expensive prices (and getting more and more tired and fed up), we decided to take buses to Paraguay, which according to our knowledge should be the first country that is actually cheap. In our first bus across the country, we met a guy who invited us to Iguazú insted, where he has a friend who would get us a cheap place to stay near the famous Iguazú falls. Since noone and nothing was really waiting for us in Paraguay, we decided to accept his offer.<br />
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Some very subjective discoveries about Chile and Argentina (can't tell yet which ones are true about all Latin America and which ones are not).<br />
*Cheese is eaten a lot as it is one of the main ingredients of Empanadas which are sort of pies/pirukad that are supposedly popular around here and have different fillings. The minced meat one is about is (traditional Chilean) about ten times better than the Australian meat pie. So we have been eating them every day. Other milk products are not very common though - milk is mostly bought in powder form or Longlife milk. Didn't even see fresh one in Santiago.<br />
*Traffic rules are recommendations only. Nobody expects anyone to drive in straight lines or use blinkers etc (surely it will get worse in other countries)<br />
*Most of the dogs that are on the streets (and there are a lot) have owners and are loved. They are just quite relaxed about them around here and let them run around freely<br />
*Throwing trash out of car windows is common. So is throwing it straight into rivers. Valuing their amazing nature is something that still needs some attention<br />
*The shops are open pretty late. Can't remember the last time we could buy beer in a shop after ten (even small stores)<br />
*Chileans and Argentinians really like their sweets. There is a big variety of different pastries availiable but since neither of us is a big fan of sweets then we haven't tried any.<br />
*Chilean language is quite different from the 'real' Spanish because they make all the words shorter. They just lose half of most of the word. In extreme cases only one letter of the word remains. So the rhythm of the language is very different and sounds like a whole new language.<br />
*Argentinian is a bit easier, as they use full words but it is a bit difficult still at first as they pronounce every 'LL' as 'Ž'<br />
*There is one bus station but in every station there are 10-20 different companies with their own office who only sell tickets to their own buses<br />
*Argentinian long-distance buses have 'catering' which means a variety of sweets and biscuits. We even got one sandwich once (not sweet. yay)<br />
*All the women are rather 'round'. Even the thin ones are not very close to my weight (and right now I am down to the weight that I last had when I was about 16 or17 years old because we often forget to eat and move around a lotAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-69610561142133133472017-07-11T13:40:00.001-07:002017-07-11T13:40:38.986-07:00Landing in a new continentOur leaving Sydney did not go as smoothly as we expected. After spending a night at the 'waiting area' - a small end of one of the halls, which was the only place were the people were allowed to be in the entire airport, we found our place in the waiting line for the check-in. But as it turned out, there were some 'technical' problems and our Sydney-Auckland flight was canceled. That meant that we (and about 30 other people) were not going to make our Auckland-Santiago flight. So we were taken by bus to one of the airport hotels, which was in a small 'airport neighborhood'. It was definitely the fanciest hotel that I have ever been to as we usually go for the cheapest one. But we got three free meals and the drinks were included which lead to meeting some local guys just out in a bar. And that lead to going back to the center of Sydney for another last night gathering with some new friends we had just made. Made it back in the hotel to sleep for a few hours.<br />
<br />
The rest of the way was pretty smooth. Except maybe the way from the airport to the city. Some hustlers managed to lie to us about the bus prices and take advantage of the fact that we had just stepped out of the plane and had not slept for over 24 hours. Before we even knew it, we were sitting in a taxi that we had paid about ten times more than we would have to pay for the bus. In addition, it was 5 degrees at noon on the first day so the mood of the first day was not the best.<br />
<br />
After that everything got better. We were staying (through couchsurfing) with a really nice couple in the center of Santiago. Danielo and William answered about one hundred of our questions about Chile and South America each day and helped us find everything we needed (a little gas cooker and other survival things for example). We even went out in Santiago a couple of times, which we have not done for months (working all the time and living in a small town). William could not speak much English, wich helped us start practicing our Spanish.<br />
<br />
I was quite confident that Spanish will come easily to me as I speak a bit of Italian. It does help a lot with understanding, especially with written texts. But so far every time I have opened my mouth, a horrible mixture of Spanish, English and Italian has come out. After a few (half-nonsense) sentences I get totally stuck because all I can remember are words in Italian and Russian (why Russian?). So Erik has done most of the speaking so far.<br />
<br />
Being in Santiago was very refreshing. In Australia, all the streets and buildings were relatively new (and boring) but now we saw a colorful mixture of culture around us. There were old, classical style houses with ornaments and modern highrises and small weird houses, each one different and special and a lot of graffity everywhere . Fancy expensive shops next to people sitting on the streets, selling things. You could get a meal from a flash restaurant or things cooked on street corners in modified shopping trolleys. So a lot of people from very rich to extremely poor were filling the street. Walking became more difficult because there were so many people moving around during the day that you constantly had to change direction and dodge people.<br />
<br />
We also visited Danielos mother. These kinds of visits, for me, are the most memorable moments of every trip. When you visit a home of a local person that you never would have visited otherwise. Of course we also visit the friends we make on the road or couchsurfers, but they are generally younger people and/or have a bit more modern way of life. But older and more traditional people/homes are usually more special because they are less influenced by the modern way of life. In this case, the low-ceiling wooden interior of the house together with a very nice (rico) freshly baked traditional cake made us feel very homely and cosy.<br />
<br />
Before coming to chile we checked some websites that compare the prices of different products in different countries and we were quite shocked to see that it was not that much cheaper than Australia. And it is true... if you want to continue living like you did in Australia. But what we have started to realize is that if you want to save money, you need to adapt to the local way of life.<br />
<br />
For example on these very smart web pages you can see that half a litre of beer is quite expensive. But you should realize instead that the wine is very cheap. Or if you want to drink beer, then the locals buy big bottles of beer (instead of half litre ones) and share it (considerably cheaper). Or buying your food from the market and butcher etc is a lot more reasonable than going into the stores. So it is very useful to pay attention and adjust... and possibly stop buying some things that you are used to buying (if poor people are not used to eating it, it will probably be very expensive).<br />
<br />
Anyways, we took a bus from Santiago to a random small town (Pichidangui this time) to get our first hitch-hiking experience. Since we had woken up very late, we got there just by the time the sun was setting. After getting some food from a local minimarket - (eggs, butter and onion), we made our way to a grassed area next to the town to camp for the night.<br />
<br />
The nature here has been amazing so far - the mountains are magnificent (you could see the snowy tops of the Andis in Santiago) and the colours are bright. At our first camping spot there was the sea on one side (although we didn't see it as we didn't want to be too open to the winds and tsunamis that apparently happen here quite regularly) and on the other side (over the highway and a few kilometers away) was a big hill. The clouds came from the other side of the hill, wrapped themselves around the hill and flowed down from our side of the hill like a big blanket of milk. And the clouds did that weird (and beautiful) thing for hours. Even when the full moon rose from behind the mountain, you could still see the fog rolling down.<br />
<br />
After our first night out over here (we survived and didn't even get cold at night... it is now about 17 degrees during the day and 7 at night) we tried to hacer dedo (hitchhike) with not much luck. After almost three hours we decided to give up and just take a bus this time. We are not giving up entirely though, we are just a bit rusty (haven't done it for a long time) and a bit afraid to just walk up to the truck drivers and ask, as we have heard is the most popular way to hitchhike around here.<br />
<br />
So we took a bus to Coquimbo, walked 30min up the hill to our next cs host, discovered that we are in the wrong town :D, walked back down to the highway, took two more buses and finally ended up in Guanaqueros, this time in the right town.<br />
<br />
We are staying in a small house with four other people (a french couchsurfing couple, our host and his friend). Will say here for a few days and then we'll see what happens next.<br />
<br />
Ps. I have now officially been to every continent of the world (that is not frozen over).Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-35048516472199573582017-07-03T05:36:00.000-07:002017-07-03T05:36:18.638-07:00Leaving StrayaSitting in Sydney airport 'waiting area'.<br />
<br />
By now we have sold our car and have semi-successfully gotten rid of all of our stuff. It is not the easiest of tasks to suddenly reduce a car full of stuf to two bags that we would be able to carry but that would still contain everything we need for living. I have gone through my bag three times (after having already decided that I had gotten rid of enough things) to throw away even more things to make it lighter.<br />
<br />
In one of the ceremonies that we had of burning our clothes (only a bit after I had posted a picture of it on facebook) Erik suddenly discovered that he could not find his phone. You can guess what happens if you don't check your pockets before burning your jacket. So a lot (most) of our cotton-picking pictures were destroyed.<br />
<br />
We replaced the laptops with better camping stuff and since now we are ok to sleep outside down to zero degrees and don't need car access, decided to save money and camp semi-illegally near a Sydney suburb in a valley.<br />
<br />
I am not exactly sure about will happen to my blog since now we don't have constant access to a computer but surely I will find a way to get something uploaded occasionally.<br />
<br />
The year here has been a big learning experience, of different industries, skills and customs but mostly about ourselves. We have met some great people and had good times. So thans to all for making our second trip to Australia so much more than the first one could ever be.<br />
<br />
New continent, new people, new adventures, new problems, embracing being planless and not being driven by a constant need to find a new job. The second year away from home begins.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-70685374370965245122017-05-27T23:40:00.000-07:002017-05-27T23:40:03.429-07:00The cotton harvesters<div class="MsoNormal">
As it seems to happen to
us this time in Australia, we found a new job quite quickly. As soon as we
decided that ’now we are going to start looking for a job seriously’, Erik
found an ad, that seemed to have something to do with his skills base and since
we did not have any direction or plans as to where we wanted to go next, we
decided to drive 500km to a job interviw in Moree. So the next day after
getting there, Erik disappeared for four hours for his interview and when he
got back, he said ’I basically took the job. I am going two hours south from
here tomorrow for an unknown period. And you have work tomorrow as well. The
future of whether you will get a job in the same place is uncler though’. So
Erik flew off the next morning (quite literally, as the new boss flew him to the other town in a small plane)
to start the job as a ’go get’ at a cotton harvesting company. On the field, he
is the guy who helps doing the maintenance to the huge picking machines and
supplies them with fuel, water, and whatever else is needed. while the picking
is going on, the people driving the pickers do not have time off during
daylight hours, so he often also does the grocery shopping etc).<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
About my first day of work... everyone who has been
in Australia, especially in rural or remote areas of Australia have encountered
big machines being transported from one place to another and they always have
the escort cars in the front and in the back with big signs ’oversize load
ahead’ on them. So on my first day I was the one driving the escort car on the
back, while one of the pickers (that covers two lanes of the road... which
means the whole road in these areas) was being transported from one town to
another. I guess they were satisfied enough with me (despite all the prejudice
looks that I got for being a small girl with dreadlocks) because the next day,
I was told to pack my things and drive to the same place that Erik was sent to
(near Walgett, who wants to follow us on the map) because they were putting me
in a tractor. I think I mentioned in my last post that I just recently started
driving a car.... oh well...<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyways, the pickers go
over the fields and spit out huge bales of cotton, which look like... you know
when you were a kid and there were no cotton pads in anybodies household. You just had rolls of cotton where you had to tear
a piece out of. Well the cotton bales are like that roll of cotton wool, only
they are 2,5 tonnes heavy and quite big. I bring them out of the field with a
tractor (and a ’bale grabber’attached to it) and put them neatly in rows by the
fields in sets of twelve bales.Before I even sat into the tractor, I had heard
from four-five people about eight times in total that ’whatever you do, do not
break the bales’. So on my first day I was quite worried about that. But so far
(three weeks and 900 bales later) it has been a clean run. When the picking is
going on then our work starts at 6.30 in the morning and goes on until at least
6-7... sometimes later.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our longest day so far
was quite a marathon. I started grabbing the bales at Walgett at 6 in the morning
(the pickers had already gone to the next place days ago with Erik and everyone
else. I was still there because my tractor had broken down and I had to wait
wor the spare part to arrive.) I knew that I had to finish the whole field on
that day and also drive the tractor to the next place on the same day. It was
going to start raining the next day and the farm I was on, really was not a
place that you wanted to get stuck in when it rains. Their soil is mostly clay,
so when it rains, the water stays on th ground for a while. The previous year
when it had rained they could not reach the highway by anything else but a boat
for three months. Of the 14km that separated them from public highway, 10km
were under water. So yeah. Since I did not want to wait for the rain and
tractors are not allowed on public roads after dark, I was whizzing around the
field the whole morning like a lunatic, not even stopping for five minutes. I
finished at 1pm, cleaned the tractor a bit (it was covered in pieces of cotton
plants and cotton) and hit the road. I drove all the way to the next place
(again without any stopping for breaks) on side roads, full of kangaroos, sheep
and cows but no people going max 40km an hour, because that was the fastest
that my tractor goes... which is quite fast for a tractor. I finally reached my
destination by six o’clock (I was guided to the field, where one of the pickers
from our company was, through a two-way radio because it wa alredy pitch black
by then). The only other vehicle that I saw on the last hour of my journey was
another tractor, with a guy in a cowboy hat waving at me. By that time I had
been working for 12 hours straight without a break. I even ate my sandwitch
while driving. So I casually started cleaning my tractor and was planning to
finish my day (the boss said that he would pick me up from the field soon). But
then I was asked if I could work some more, because everyone were afraid of the rain and wanted to get as much done as
possible before that (the quality of cotton deteriorates significally when it
rains and so does the price). So I spent another couple of hours grabbing bales
- I warned the boss that I was already seeing halucinations because of the
fatigue and I was planning to work the rest of the night in slow motion, just
in case. He was fine with that and said taht it was completely fair. So I
finihed the field at 10pm, called the boss to ask, if he wanted me to do
another field and got the orders to wait until I was picked up and driven home.
Ten minutes later the boss came and said ’guess what. Someone has broken a bale
and we have to pick it up today. So we drove to another farm (there were ten
picking machines on the field in the middle of darkness, each one as big as a
house). We picked up a bale, which is a very very sh***y job, because the only
way you can pick it up is to do it piece by piece by hand and feed the small
pieces of cotton back to the picking machine. And little pieces of cotton and
other plant parts and dirt keeps flying around you, so if you do it without a
face mask (which no one could locate in the middle of the night) then after you
are finished, everything in your throat and behind your nose is covered with cotton
fibres and much much more.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After we had done that, me and Erik were
allowed to go home fortunately (he had been on the big field with all the
pickers the whole day and pevious days), we were just asked to transport a big
water tank on a trailer back back to the workshop. So we got back to Moree at
midnight, after an 18-hour workday and decided to get something to eat. As it
happens, the only place to do that, is McDonalds. So we decided to go there.
After we had ordered, we encountered a small trouble. With our brains fried by
the overworking we had forgotten about the little detail of the big trailer
with a water tank behind our car. Well... we only got stuck for a little while
and had to reverse out and I had to explain at all the next drivethrough
windows, why I was not in my car (it is not allowed to walk through a drive-through
in Australia). In the end, most of the workers and other customers (who also
had to back out of the drive-through to let us out) were very interested in who
we were and what we were doing and in the end cheering for us when we got our
food.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After that day there have
been many days working in the workshop in Moree, as we can not go on the fields
when it is wet. By now we have cleaned and serviced all the machinery and have
started reorganizing and bettering the shed (covered from head t tow in
different oils and fuels at the end of the days) . We even went out to the
field for one day, before it rained again tonight. So now we are waiting for
the fields to dry out again (some more fixing stuff in the workshop) to get
back in the action. The time flies much faster on the field than it does here.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We also live at the
workshop (which is a big shed with lots of tools and parts and a break room,
shower etc.) We live in a tent and have put up a large tarp that keeps away the
rain. It is nothing fancy, but it would be stupid to pay for a hotel room or
sth if we only come ’home’ to sleep on picking days. Since there is not much
time to cook even, we have started to discover the world of frozen food. I must
admit, some frozen food is not as bad as I would have thought, but whenever I
have the chance (like the day off today) I still like making fresh food. Some
other workers live here as well, but thay are a bit better off at their
caravans.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We are counting the days
to going to the next continent. The job right now is a good money boost for our
travels and we do appreciate it a lot (in four days of working here I earned
the same money as I earned being a teacher in Estonia in a whole month... and
that was with all the bonuses and pay rises that I have gotten back there). But
a change of scenery and culture is most welcome. Everyone who has been in South
America is welcome to recommend any cool places and give other tips. We do not
really plan ahead, so all suggestions are welcome .<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ps. The pictures are of a
very bad quality because they are from my phone which is often covered in sand
and oil etc. But I thought taht you understand what I am writing about a bit better if there is some visuakl aid. We’ll get better ones before leaving here. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilnB1wxAd3mZnAwU6ckVaMXV_-MnL559VnvMtOzCau7HYmWh9nxXUbscErMYAxGk2_HWEwsPznyfeHvQNZ8JVgPXqePzj9mPPf8AsLea_3ewfyDrNx35B5LG3TcttTdbVwN4DpGsSIucE/s1600/20170507_142641.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="961" data-original-width="1600" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilnB1wxAd3mZnAwU6ckVaMXV_-MnL559VnvMtOzCau7HYmWh9nxXUbscErMYAxGk2_HWEwsPznyfeHvQNZ8JVgPXqePzj9mPPf8AsLea_3ewfyDrNx35B5LG3TcttTdbVwN4DpGsSIucE/s640/20170507_142641.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Transporting the picker</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpNjzVkPWZ6rOYP0igzQgzYNNCyb98lzjZfgrMUtD6JxgM8v-yDnuUwoNaoInb-AGlFcRhcFlDFP2uaMOb1BiKtt1Q_W8-mNPDGQKI4hyijpxs4ZYQ7pMV2XdcvPW8KsTcZ6jWOAlPx48/s1600/20170510_100446.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="961" data-original-width="1600" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpNjzVkPWZ6rOYP0igzQgzYNNCyb98lzjZfgrMUtD6JxgM8v-yDnuUwoNaoInb-AGlFcRhcFlDFP2uaMOb1BiKtt1Q_W8-mNPDGQKI4hyijpxs4ZYQ7pMV2XdcvPW8KsTcZ6jWOAlPx48/s640/20170510_100446.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My tractor with the bale grabber</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEKIHKAhpA4ZfVsDBXPJgznXAmKFuZd2Q3y-ZcwkO1Vpx6TYCYlOw8s-2VW6mzo3rxQIhl4zeyPWVlofBmQVQbilCrXOJwBb08X-T91K0KCBLB-HkC6RTBF-UMyjfhP5imRgW8KJ7NMlM/s1600/20170510_191050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="961" data-original-width="1600" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEKIHKAhpA4ZfVsDBXPJgznXAmKFuZd2Q3y-ZcwkO1Vpx6TYCYlOw8s-2VW6mzo3rxQIhl4zeyPWVlofBmQVQbilCrXOJwBb08X-T91K0KCBLB-HkC6RTBF-UMyjfhP5imRgW8KJ7NMlM/s640/20170510_191050.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fixing the picker in the dark</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOTgusJGxefX73gwipGJI-Qa0KFM4CUejZJzwLYWNoaBJoaLIXUysUPuqXMFZCXRv1Lu6EoyfW1egfk04fYa5rfGhfiQpbaqav3vk_fakonh9FF7UhZVIDJgVVBMYY8SUPHBgigqgzy00/s1600/20170512_135956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="961" data-original-width="1600" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOTgusJGxefX73gwipGJI-Qa0KFM4CUejZJzwLYWNoaBJoaLIXUysUPuqXMFZCXRv1Lu6EoyfW1egfk04fYa5rfGhfiQpbaqav3vk_fakonh9FF7UhZVIDJgVVBMYY8SUPHBgigqgzy00/s640/20170512_135956.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Erik helping to change the plastic wraps on the picker</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXviMM72S5_XAaKy9MuH51WH9Ka_X4ns44YhXwtJdZ3-rHYfA09obkfdtE-FaFltpuRZjKa8C5XoZbw3LcC8jV12Ulm3gF13QxtqmMb6t-j5pdIrgg9jPwEAs4dJP5ZjYE8VT06sD5_fA/s1600/20170513_065303.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="961" data-original-width="1600" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXviMM72S5_XAaKy9MuH51WH9Ka_X4ns44YhXwtJdZ3-rHYfA09obkfdtE-FaFltpuRZjKa8C5XoZbw3LcC8jV12Ulm3gF13QxtqmMb6t-j5pdIrgg9jPwEAs4dJP5ZjYE8VT06sD5_fA/s640/20170513_065303.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loading the picker on a seemingly tiny trailer</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitEoeJhVsjcEG6wo36Xi5rEK-n-hM0Mt4KHG987fMeMC0EYDJMfLCREAJI1rpyzDII1UgVuqJSyxRNrCqVLg8KyGHLFNBwfPOmqHvY8qUvIEQAsAcsIsl8Xxs6SFeILvR9_gAc9AjyC0U/s1600/20170515_164620.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="961" data-original-width="1600" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitEoeJhVsjcEG6wo36Xi5rEK-n-hM0Mt4KHG987fMeMC0EYDJMfLCREAJI1rpyzDII1UgVuqJSyxRNrCqVLg8KyGHLFNBwfPOmqHvY8qUvIEQAsAcsIsl8Xxs6SFeILvR9_gAc9AjyC0U/s640/20170515_164620.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our boss refuelling the plane before flying me to Walgett and landing beside a field on unsealed road after the sunset</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ4ySBPHINPxvPmyIdAgz5KcItKL_nZuja1udnJPKkpXMhQBycc9UiGtf4S-DdhprTXKWjeaRl3ilKLatyZ2pDbo58w7d5zYyw3-OpiAa1CACPUm74a4vtKl7gbhJB-FavFVpprnCJlb8/s1600/20170519_131941.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="961" data-original-width="1600" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ4ySBPHINPxvPmyIdAgz5KcItKL_nZuja1udnJPKkpXMhQBycc9UiGtf4S-DdhprTXKWjeaRl3ilKLatyZ2pDbo58w7d5zYyw3-OpiAa1CACPUm74a4vtKl7gbhJB-FavFVpprnCJlb8/s640/20170519_131941.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our camp</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY8ne-Ug2lA2S0r6Sz0vHqqZ8mRcAX6251mv_XLSI1qvSDjQnlUiqF055AdVbHZuardKvu3IHGwiRsBkJ1r3oqDAddS5F4eO5vjTNWoPYYwFa4UlBs1APTz3G3d0WWF1Vr6GeVTrET260/s1600/20170524_153833.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="961" data-original-width="1600" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY8ne-Ug2lA2S0r6Sz0vHqqZ8mRcAX6251mv_XLSI1qvSDjQnlUiqF055AdVbHZuardKvu3IHGwiRsBkJ1r3oqDAddS5F4eO5vjTNWoPYYwFa4UlBs1APTz3G3d0WWF1Vr6GeVTrET260/s640/20170524_153833.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big machines, big tools</td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-53967207479567563012017-05-05T22:28:00.002-07:002017-05-05T22:28:30.941-07:00Our life in Victoria (and travelling back North again)<div class="MsoNormal">
I have not written a blog
for so long that people are actually starting to talk to me on facebook to ask
me, what I’m up to. So it’s probably time to write something to avoid this
terrible burden. Just joking. I am still happy to talk to you... but you will
generally have to be the person to start the conversation :D Usually when I’m
travelling I just get so sucked in by the ’here and now’ that I just don’t
bother keeping in contact with anyone. So it’s definitely me, not you. So don’t
take it personally - I literally do not make the effort to write to anyone.</div>
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<o:p></o:p>Ok. So we have lived most
of the time since I last wrote in Kinglake
which is about an hour away from Melbourne. To get to Kinglake, which is
on top of a hill (about 700m from sea level), you need to take a very narrow
and winding road with some quite scary curves with a view straight down from
the cliffs. It is a tiny town, which has a shop (a really bad one with empty
shelves, no choice and high prices), a pub, a pizza place, a fast food place,
an op-shop (second hand), a petrol station and a library. We even met some
hippies who are building an earthship, which is the first of its kind in Victoria.
We occasionally tried to visit them and hang out, but they are always very busy
building. </div>
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Actually we lived about
5km out of town on Erik’s employers’ farm. We had an old small caravan, which
was inside a big shed, because it was so old, that it would have been leaking rainwater otherwise. The shed used to
hold 3000 rabbits, that our hosts used to grow. But now all the rabbits are gone
and it was occupied by us and about 30 round hay bales. So technically it is
the biggest place we have ever lived in. We had a little gas stove in the
caravan, a fridge and some kitchen space in front of the caravan and a sink
outside the shed. Our shower and toilet were outside so it was still a bit like
camping, but much more comfortable. The best thing, however was the view. When
you sit in front of our shed (which we very often did) you have a view over a
big valley, with mountains on the other side. In the evenings the whole valley
turns orange and pink, when the sun sets to the other side. In the mornings,
the valley is usually filled with fog, which slowly rolls away when the sun,
that rises from directly the
opposite side of the valley, starts
illuminating it with amazing colours.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I worked in a little eco-friendly
winery about 15km from where we lived. I was the only paid worker of the place
and spent my days doing various tasks in the vineyard or the winery. For
example in the vineyard I helped to prepare the vines before picking (moving
the wires that the vines lean against, tucking in the vines that had come out,
dropping bad fruit, cutting away the shoots, taking off and putting on nets).
In the winery I helped with the wine making, the majority of which is...
cleaning various containers. We move the
wine from big containers to barrels or sometimes smaller containers, from
barrels back to containers, from barrels/containers to bottles and so on. An
all the equipment needs to be hygenically clean after every use (with no
bacteria or other small creatures living there) because when you get someone
living in your wine that you don’t want there, then hundreds of litres can go
to waste. So pretty variable job actually with amazing views.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Most people probably
don’t know but I got my drivers license just before leaving Australia. And I
have happily let Erik drive the whole time, because I don’t really like driving
either. Or I have always been very insecure about it and not wanting to do it
at all. Well, on the cattle station I already had to drive a little. It was an
old ute, that didn’t have third gear, but it did not really matter because all
the roads were so sandy anyway that you would have gotten bogged if you tried
to use a higher gear. But it was a good practice for me, because I finally got
somewhat comfortable with using gears and driving in general, without having the
pressure of traffic. But when I started working away from where I lived, I have finally had to
start driving. It is still scary (although the road that I took to work is not
nearly as windy, narrow and steep as the other side of the hill), but I am
finally becoming a ’real grown up’ person who can drive a car, as long as I
don’t have to drive into a bigger town... I’ll get there but not just yet :D.
Anyways the views are just amazing all the way from home to work, with
vineyards and hills and fields and hot air balloons in the air almost every
morning.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Erik works in the forest
most of the days. He and his boss are doing forest regrowth surveys. That means
that they come back to the coup that has been harvested, about two years later to check if there is enough regrowth. That
basically means going up and down the coup, stopping every 20 metres and then
inserting the data into a gps-device, whether the spot is ’stocked’ or
’unstocked’, that means that they write down if there are enough of the
seedlings that they are looking for and if not, then what is the reason for it
(a quite simplified explanation, but he can tell you about it himself). I went
with him one day to see what he is doing and after two hours I was bright red
in my face and soaking wet. He did tell me in the beginning already that it is
not just walking back and forth, but I had to experience it myself to believe
it. Firstly, the ground is not flat or even reasonably semiflat – it is going
up and down steep hills all the time. Secondly, when a person generally walks
in the forest, he either has some small tracks of he will at least go around
bigger the objects. That is not the case here, as they went straight through or
over whatever they had in front of them. And thirdly (which I fortunately I did
not see), very often the plants are spiky and horrible and a much higher bush
than you are.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We were both very lucky
with our bosses . Mine were a bit posh
nature admirerers, who try to do things as naturally as possible. They have
travelled quite a bit (even had a very short stay in Estonia) and are sweet
people with a broad horizon. (it can sometimes be frustrating to meet the
Australians who have a very limited view of the world, eat only steak without
any seasoning and chips, and whose only
travels have taken them to Bali). Getting a bottle or two of good wine every
now and again adds a bonus (although, as I have mostly been more of a 5-dollar
bottle buyer, I feel like I probably can’t appreciate their 45’dollar ones
enough). Erik’s boss’s family, on the other hand, have travelled through almost
every remote place in Australia. They had a 4WD adventure company when they
were younger so they took people through the deserts and remote bushlands on a
regular bases. But they are not the kind of people who would just settle with
doing the same route the same way every time. So they always found challenges,
for example going to places during floods or driving 2WD cars instead of 4WD
ones on tracks (or very often without any tracks) that other people didn’t even
dare to take on. We invited our bosses and some of their friends to our place
for the independence day of Estonia and made them potato salad (the Estonian
version), sašlõkk, devilled eggs, lack bread with herring and offered them Vana
Tallinn (Erik’s bosses wife liked it so much that she ordered a box of it from
Estonia). So had a very nice night with bonfire and nice people.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And since we are both the only worker of our
place, it is very easy to arrange and rearrange or working schedule. We can
basically always take a day off or start when we want. That does not mean that
we barely work or take advantage of it too much. On most days we still go from
8 to 5 but we do use the possibility to have some long weekends when we want to
do something. For example we had a trip to go surfing and to the Grampians
national park with two other Estonian couples. And last weekend we had a trip
to Tasmania. We actually, at one point, had plans to go there in January and
find a job there. But since we do not think ahead much, we discovered that it
would cost us 800dollars and a month of waiting to get there with our car. But
since we had heard so many good things about it and it was the only Australian state
besides Canberra that we hadn’t visited then we decided to go there as well.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Since we are all about
saving money (we actually spend money on other things, so we’re trying to even
it out) we found a couchsurfing family, booked a rental car and were off. We
were staying with a 60-something-year-old couple (Chinese and Aussie) just
across the bay from Hobart. So we actually had a view of Hobart and mount
Wellington from out bedroom window. And our hosts were so nice, that when they
heard that my birthday was coming up, then we arrived back ’home’ to the smell
of Rhubarb cake, that had been done following the same recipe as Estonian grandmothers
do (our host had searched for the recipe on the internet).<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anyways, we discovered a
small fraction of the amazing island (we only had 3,5 days) in our little
rental car which was a very different driving experience - the car actually picked up speed fast and
didn’t rock, sway and rattle like our own car. Tasmania has a very diverse
landscape (already in the small fraction that we saw), with hills and bays and
peninsulas and rivers and lakes. There is a big part of the island (almost a
quarter) that is totally inhabited, has no roads going into it and no people
living there. The rest of the population of the island, is shattered around in
small towns and villages, the biggest one being Hobart, with almost 200,000 people.
There are steep rocks sometimes hiding
caves and beautiful beaches, the peninsulas occasionally look like you
are in Sweden. That is, until you start looking closely, then you see that the
plants are very different. The colours are much brighter and fresher than in
the mainland and the climate is strange. Since the biggest known hole in the
Ozone layer is just above Tassie, then it is hot there in 18 degrees already.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We had heard from a friend
of ours that Hobart has a pretty good live music scene and he recommended us
two punk bands to go and see, if we get the chance. We found out that one of
them was performing on the Saturday we were there, so having no knowledge about
Hobart nightlife, we headed to Bristol Hotel (where the band was supposed to
perform the net day) on the day before, hoping to find likeminded people. That
had been quite hard in our travels because we have mostly been in country towns
(or out of towns) with occasional visits to Melbourne, which has just been too
big for us to find our place. Bristol Hotel was a mixture of Zavood,
Genialistide klubi and Kroks. It had this unpolished and rugged look (many
Aussie places just do not have a nice atmosphere) but it was cozy. The floors
were a bit sticky, the people were a bit strange (a healthy mixture of people from
alternative styles), the security guard did not pay much attention to what you
were doing unless you were causing trouble and the atmosphere was to our
liking. One room had a black metal concert going on (faces painted white and
black and all) and the other room had live hip hop performances. We left just
before the bands were getting better because the beer was starting to taste too
good considering that we had come with our little car (it is theoretically
allowed to have one mid-strength beer an
hour is Australia). </div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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The next day we came back
with high hopes. The concert was taking some time to start. We took saw a band
come on and decided that it was probably not the band that we came to see,
because it was more of a college pop-rock band with slight hints of punk music.
And I thought I was being paranoid when people were gathering before the gig
and I didn’t even see even one mohawk (there had been at least one the previous
evening) and people seemed to be a bit too ’fashionably’ dressed. Well... it
turned out that the ’college rock’ band was the punk band that we had come to
listen. And the main performer, that I had been pretty excited about too
because they had been described as mixing punk music with country and emo music...
they were the living copy of Foo Fighters. Not that I have anything against Foo
Fighters... but that was not what I was expecting. It was still a fun night and
all but I was looking for something more raw. The night was still fun and
Hobart does have a pretty colourful night life and different options. I was a
bit annoyed by a gay guy, who was a bit too absorbed by being gay. I think it
is a bit sad, if your sexual orientation is the only thing that defines you
enough so that you have to mention in in every third sentence and only talk
about that. Yes, thanks. I already understood you are gay the first five times
you mentioned that, would you like to reply to any topic without bringing it
up.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Anyways, Tasmania is the
first and probably the only state in Australia that I would actually like to
live in. I am not saying that it is my favourite, because I still love the wildness of the North West
of Australia a bit more. But I would never want to live in the West for the
rest of my life. In Tasmania with its rugged and gorgeous nature and just the
right blend of culture in the Capital... I really would not mind.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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We planned to depart Kinglake
on the Easter weekend. I am actually glad that we didn’t because the roads were
just so full of people who were all going Easter-camping that the main highways
had the average speed of 20kph and all the lunatics with their trucks, boats,
caravans and different vehicles that did not even look like they were supposed
to be on roads. Anyways we had to postpone our departure mainly because a very
important bolt in our engine decided to break into two pieces and in order to
get it out, the whole engine had to be taken out. So while Erik spent 3,5 days
(starting with the sunrise and finishing way after the sunset) days getting out
the engine and putting it back (with the occasional help of his boss/our host)
and I drove around a rental car, earning just enough to cover our living-costs,
the repair costs and the price of the rental car while doing so.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Leaving Kinglake was a
bit sad because we had to leave all the
animals behind again (and well... the people also). We had a little (it took us
almost 24 hours) d-tour to buy some moonshine for the road from an aquaintance,
went camping on top of the Great dividing range (which we had to go over at least
five times on our way north), spent another night with our former hosts and
left Victoria behind us. We tried to meet some friends in Sydney (th guys that
we lived with when we were in Sydney four years ago) - started making the arrangements almost two
weeks beforehand and told them that we were only stopping in the city to meet
them. When we got there then the two of
them that we had managed to contact were out of town camping so we decided to
wait one more day. The next time we did not hear anything from them so we
decided to leave, feeling quite down.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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Moving up north we
visited some Estonian friends, Guide, Kaari and Raimond,who live currently in Tamworth
- gave them a call the previous day and just arrived the next...no problems. We
spent two nights at their place, catching up and just enjoying living in a real
house for a while.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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We met up Jaanika and
Karl near Byron Bay – they were renting a room in a very hippie house. I love
hippies and all but sometimes things can be a bit too much as well. In addition
to the three actual bedrooms, there were people living in front of the hous in
a van, in a ’room’ that had been crated at the back of the living room with the
help of some cupboards, one (in the end two) people were living on the terrace
under some mosciyo nets and all the children (at least four of them but you
never know), were sleeping on the living room floor , the door of which, that
was leading outside to the terrace was always open, even during the night, because
one of the head-hippies, who was also the mother of most of the children, said
that the energy does not move otherwise. Jaanika cleaned the house three times
a day (I can’t even imagine what that place looked like before she moved in and
started cleaning), if you left your food in any of the common areas (the
kitchen cupboard for example) then it had a big chance of disappearing. And
they even asked if we could contribute to make up for our living there (we
slept in Jaanika and Karl’s room, Erik made some video editing for one of them
and when we took J&K with us for two days then they also took new people into
the room that had already been booked for in addition to all the wine and other
stuff that we shared with them), which we really didn’t feel they deserved.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">But
near Byron we went surfing for the second time...the first time I probably didn’t
even write about.... But to sum things up: I managed to get one nice long slide
on the board a once each time of surfing but I was on my hands and knees... no
sign of getting up on the board. Erik got up a few</span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt;">times the first time already and therefore did
even better the second time. We visited Nimbin again as well and stayed a few
nights. Nimbin is the first and only town that I have been in during my life,
where the main place in the town that has any action (people and music etc) in
the evening does not serve alcohol. Imagine a place (a cafe? A bar?) in Estonia
that is popular in the evenings without serving alcohol... Nimbin was created
when in the 70s (maybe it was 60s) the local greenies celebrated the fact that
they had successfully managed to stop logging in the region and decided to
celebrate it with a festival. Instead of the festival ending, more and more
people came and in the end there were some people who decided that they will
stay for good.</span></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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We went camping again for
a few days with J&K. Of course we had to choose a camping place with
questionable road conditions as the rain clouds were gathering so we had to
pull their car out of the muddy road when we wanted to leave. Right now we are
in Moree caravan park and started looking for a new job. We are in a bit of a
hurry because our visa ends at the beginning of July and we do not have much
time left here.</div>
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By now we are getting a bit tired of the easiness and the level of control in Australia so we are already looking forward to South America a lot. Our second year in Australia has also been good because we already know how things work and it is quite easy to find our way here. I have learned about myself a lot and have learned to analyse myself and discovered some new things about me. I guess the relative easiness of our travels here have made it possible - there is no actual question of figuring out the society and life out around here. With that I am not saying that I would not like to discover Australia more There are surely more amazing places here that we have not seen . it is just such a big country. But South America will be full of challenges again. At first we were planning to buy a car in Chile but now we decided that we are distancing ourselves from the locals too much if we do that. Without a car we will have much less possibilities to discover some places by ourselves but I do believe that we will get to know the people and the culture very well and we will get to go to some places that we couldn't even find without some local tips.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-55349362364099704132017-01-20T15:53:00.001-08:002017-01-20T15:54:54.144-08:00End of the season in cattle station and journey through the Red Centre<br />
So a lot has happened since I last wrote (so I apologize in advance for the long post). I should start with ending the season at Kilto station – one of the experiences, that I know that I will always remember, because it was just so extraordinary for me. You don’t even have things like a cattle stations in Europe. Millions of acres of land (there are stations that are bigger than the whole country of Estonia in Australia), where the weather can be anything from desert-like dry to fully flooded. Wild cows and bulls roaming this rough bushland in herds, chasing the place with the best food and water. Then, in the middle of this emptiness, there is some action going on (the cattle stations). Since you are usually in the middle of nowhere, you have to be self-sustainable all the way. So there are generators going on 24/7 giving power to everything around and water is constantly being pumped up by tens of pumps trying to keep up with the water needs - giving water to the 3000 cows that are in the yards, and all the others in the bush and to all the hay that is being grown, for the animals on the huge irrigation pivots, to water the lawns and for people’s living needs. The only 'populated places' that you find inbetween towns in the remote areas are cattle stations and aboriginal communities.<br />
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Back to the last couple of months. It was the end of the dry season and „the wet“ was coming. So most days were up to (and over) 40 degrees, even the wind was burning your face, the cows had eaten anything that is eatable (even tree bark and small branches)from anywhere they could (it had been dry for months now) so it was all dusty and steaming hot. And then on some days,suddenly a cold wind came from somewhere and some clouds appeared. In a short while, it was pouring down the heaviest rain that I had ever seen (ok. now I'm lying, I saw similar rains in Kenya, when the wet season started) and the wind was tearing off pieces of roof and you actually got cold for these 30 minutes (or a couple of hours). But then you knew that the next day, all the water from the ground had to evaporate. So the next day, the air was wet and thick, and you didn’t even have to move to be soaking wet from both the sweat and the humidity, from head to toe. In the yards, since all the ground is basically covered in cow shit, all the steam was also a thick steam of ... well, the same thing. After a few big storms that we had, the small pond that we had in the middle of the station, started flooding and flooded all the roads around it. The pens, where the cows were, turned into a thick and sticky substance. In the end, when I was walking through a pen in my gumboots, I sunk into a 20-30cm deep stinky glue (still mostly shit) with every step.<br />
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But the whole experience was very cool – in all these circumstances I was chasing 600-800kg bulls (we mostly had big bulls), I got to be in a helicopter while my manager was mustering with it, I learned how to drive all kinds of loaders and stuff, even managed to unload a whole truck full of hay bales (it took me over an hour, because it was my first time using a tractor for these purposes), learned how to repair the cables in the yards, and in doing that learned how to use many tools that I had not used before, mustered cows on a quadbike and so on.<br />
<br />
Maybe the most eye-opening thing that I learned was about moving animals. At first I tried to use loud voice and all other things, but by the end of three months I actually had started to 'feel the animals' much more. I learned how to move them only by moving myself. So I did not have to scream or shout, I just had to move just a step or two in the right direction. The hardest part was probably to figure out in which direction you had to move. Because cows are different and situations are different, then sometimes what worked for one cow, ruined the whole situation for the other cow. It was all about giving and releasing pressure from the right direction. I guess it is one skill that I can never directly use again, because it is unlikely that I will ever need to move wild bulls again but I think that in time, I will learn how to apply it in some other situations as well (maybe even dealing with people?)<br />
<br />
In the end, the three musketeers (our three pet cows) turned into four musketeers, because Snowflake, the head of the gang, gave birth to a little red calf with blue eyes. Actually I did not see the blue eyes, because apparently cowboys see colours a bit differently that normal people do. For example, when I call a cow 'white' then they say 'grey', when I say 'beige' they say 'creamy', when I say 'brown' then they say 'red' and so on. So a red calf with blue eyes. A few days after the calf was born, Snowey started needing a lot more attention than before. That meant that all four of them came to the living quarters every evening to chill around there with the people. So the last few evenings at Kilto station were especially nice. For several evening we were just sitting on the grass with four of them, some other members of the cow-gang looking from the distance because they were not so fond of people. Peaches was getting even more scratches than usually, and if you scratched her, she would either lift her head as high as she could, so that you could scratch the skin on her neck better or would put her head on your lap. Even chockflake (she does not really like petting but she occasionally tolerates it to be part of the gang) was quite relaxed, seemed to enjoy her pets and even tried to lick me a couple of times. The Little Red (when we left, she did not have a name yet) was looking at us with eyes so big that it was probably impossible to open them any more and you could see it in her eyes that she was puzzled "Why is my mommy letting these two-legged creatures touch her? Why are we here? What do these creatures want from me?". And then there was Snowey, who wanted to be very close to people. She kept licking everybody, but she tried especially hard to lick my hair straight. She was quite sure, that if she licked enough, then my hair would get smooth again. And it probably would have, if I had let her continue. Have you even been licked by a cow? The tongue is at least 30cm long (and Brahmens, that we mostly had, have blue tongues) and it is rougher than the roughest sandpaper, so it actually works like a comb. Another thing that Snowey did was demanding alcohol - she really loves beer and rum. So one evening, as we were chilling there on the lawn with the cows and having a few beers, Snowey either on a quest to get some booze or to lick someone did not notice my foot (to be fair, it was dark and my foot is quite small). After three months of wearing steel-capped shoes for six days a week, ten hours a day, my foot finally gets stepped on a 700kg cow on one of the last days, and I'm not even working. Fortunately, I just had a big blue hoof-mark on my foot and no broken bones.<br />
<br />
We also had our end-of-the-season-slash-Christmas partly. Of course, since everyone was used to waking up at 5 o'clock, the Christmas party also started early - at 10 o'clock in the morning already. The owner of our station has a summer cottage by the sea, so we all went there and waited for the lagoon to fill up with water. The boss had also bought a jetski for that occasion so he was giving us all rides up and down the lagoon on two big tubes, while the others were using various floating devices (the fanciest of them had an ice box for keeping the beers cold) to chill in the water. We managed to lose at least two pairs of sunglasses (being towed by a jetski with your sunnies on is actually not a good idea) but overall it was one of the coolest Christmas parties, I have ever had, with free booze, jetski, sea, some Aussi barbeque, some cowboys and just chilling out in perfect weather (only if you stayed in the water or shade most of the time).<br />
<br />
<br />
But enough of Kilto (I could write ten more pages about it), much more has happened since that as well. We had an ambitious plan to go from Broome to Darwin and then down to Adelaide through the centre of Australia (the Red Centre) in two weeks. Who is not familiar with the geography of Australia, I recommend you take a map and while you are doing that, also look at the kilometres. It is about 5000km to go from Broome to Darwin to Adelaide (but we did a 1000km detour as well so at least 6000km). In comparison, it is 4500km from Tallinn to the place where Spain meets Marocco at the Strait of Gibraltar. So when we started our journey, I was ready for some unbearable heat and dryness, big deserts with no plants and lack of water, but only some of my expectations were met. <br />
Our first destination was Darwin and on the way there we were warned (multiple times actually) that there is a cyclone risk in Darwin. So when we got there, it was rainy, windy and not very hot. Now when I say rainy, I mean walls of water pouring down at times, the wind was so strong that it made the rain blow almost vertically under any shade you found (even if you were standing 5m away from the edge). But still, as soon as the rain stopped and the sun was shining through the clouds, it got incredibly hot. We stayed in Darwin for two nights - spend the first one in the car and got a room at a backbacker for the other one (this was the only time during the whole journey down that we actually stayed indoors for the night). We had not seen a normal big town for about five months (Broome was great and all, but between Perth and Darwin there actually are no big cities, where you can easily find anything you need and actually have a choice between stores) so we went a bit crazy and got ourselves everything that we had planned to get (like now shoes, a tent and so on) and started heading south. The storms and the winds were moving South with us (we realized that later) so it was constantly changing between cloudy and rainy. <br />
<br />
When we were conducting our usual morning oil-water-tyres check, we discovered that we had to add water to the radiator (Location - somewhere between Katherine and Tennant Creek). And then the next morning we had to add even more. We discovered that one of the hoses (the one that takes water from the engine to the heater) was leaking. After accidentally breaking off the hose, spending a few hours trying to get out the piece that had remained between the clamps and ducktaping it all, we moved on. We also discovered that another hose was leaking, but much less, so we did not worry about that so much. Did I already mention the dates? When we got to Tennant Creek on the 23rd of December, the only shop that sells car parts had been closed for the rest of the year so we continued our journey, hoping that Alice Springs (500km down the road, towards the Red empty Centre of Australia) would have some shops open... I'll get back to the car in a bit- that was only the beginning of the problems, but we did other things on the way as well.<br />
<br />
We also saw Devil's Marbles - amazing big balls made out of stone that are shattered around one particular place and decided to spend the night there (it was only 3.30 for camping... it was the second and last time we paid for sleeping on this trip). We also visited the UFO centre of Australia - apparently people see aliens around there very often and even the aboriginals talk about seeing 'strange people' around Devil's Marbles so maybe it is a UFO centre, after all we were getting closer to Uluru (Ayers rock) , which is sometimes thought to be an old space ship. And there are some thermal springs on the way, that have Flying Foxes living around them. We thought about taking a couple of beers to the thermal pools, at the springs. We almost did not do that, because there were big signs up how 'alcohol is not permitted anywhere in the park' (we decided to take one can then... as a compromise). Of course, when we got there, there were three groups of Aussies there with piles of full and empty cans. There is a strange thing that I have noticed about Australians - there are some rules that everybody ignores and noone even thinks about it. And then there are some rules that everybody follows (even though sometimes they might be silly, pointless rules). So one big part of learning to live here is to find out, which rules (the written and the unwritten ones) are worth following and which ones are not.<br />
<br />
<br />
Anyways, we got to Alice Springs and luckily discovered that the SuperCheap Auto (the best and the biggest shop for anything connected to cars) was open. The guy at the SuperCheap found us a hose (not the one made specifically for our car, but a general one, that would work as well) and we tried to get the other hose as well, but since we were not very good at explaining what hose it was (it had some strange connector in the end), the guy came to the car to take a look. Long story short: the hose that takes fuel to the engine was leaking (probably had been leaking for a while, because we noticed that the car had some trouble starting already at Kilto, so a few thousand kilometres back) on the heater hose and probably that had caused the heater hose to break. At that point we also discovered that the water had started leaking into the car again, one of the headlights needed a new lightbulb and the windscreen wipers were past their useful period of life. So we got some goo to put in the connector of the fuel hose and a new heater hose (decided to ignore the other problems for the moment), did our food shopping for the next couple of days and started driving towards the McDonnell ranges national park (the plan was to go to Uluru with a little d-tour to see the Kings Canyon and other stuff on the way) to find the first place to stop and camp and have our Christmas dinner. For those who are not Estonians - in Estonia, the evening on the 24th is usually the most important day of Christmas. For example in my family, we usually have a big Christmas dinner and gathering and Santa comes with the presents and everyone has to sing or read poems to Santa for each present.<br />
<br />
<br />
So it was raining a bit on our Christmas Eve (unfortunately not the whole time), we were fixing our car and making kangaroo meat, sauerkraut and potatoes on the fire somewhere in the bush, out of Alice Springs. The next day, our car seemed to be fixed and we spent a day looking at all the waterfalls, gorges and meteor-holes on the way. On our way to Kings Canyon was a 160km stretch of road (the Mereene Loop) that needed a permit to drive on, since it was going through Aboriginal lands (in the northern part of West Aus, the North Aus and the norther part of South Aus, there are big stretches of land that the white man is forbidden to enter, unless you have a special permit. The roads in the heart of these areas are unmarked and wild and unknown). So we hopped into one of the homesteads that was supposed to give out permits and got one. We also enquired about the possibilities of stopping for the night on the Mereene Loop road (as it was late afternoon and we would not have made through it before the dark). The young fella who talked to us said that there should be places for stopping but they will not have any facilities and he also warned us that the roads may be a bit slippery, because it had been raining for the last couple of days. So we were driving on the road (gravel of course) and tried to find the place, but there was nothing there. It was getting darker and darker and we needed a place to stay. So we found a place with some trees and bushes and drove into the bush a bit (it was maximum 100m, but we did not want to stay on plain sight on aboriginal lands). The ground was a bit wet, but it was not a lower area or a floodway, by the looks of it.<br />
<br />
It started raining again at some point at night. When Erik went outside for a moment he said 'there is water everywhere'. I just said sleepily 'put my shoes inside' (as I later found out, they were floating around in front of the tent). In the morning, when we woke up (it was raining slightly), there were a few small puddles of water (so I thought that Erik had been exaggerating at night) and everything we had left outside were muddy and wet. So we packed everything up, wet and muddy as everything was, did not even have breakfast, sat in the car and... did not move anywhere. The car was about 15cm in the mud. So we got our little shovel (almost a meter long and very fragile, not the best tool in the world), gathered some branches and were out of the mud in 15min. The rain got stronger. We started driving towards the road and... got stuck again. The rain got even stronger, we were soaking wet, muddy, digging and getting branches. All that was heppening was that the car was digging itself deeper and deeper until finally the bottom touched the ground. Our car is quite high, it is even made higher after buying it, but we were still on our bottom, so imagine the depth of the holes. So there we were, the puddles of water were getting bigger and bigger and kept joining each other until there was only water all around us, no dry ground to be seen, we were cold and wet and shivering in the car. In was raining and raining and it seemed that it would never stop. I started accepting the fact that we would probably be there for days and started calculating how much food and water we have, how long we could last. There were no cars driving on that road anyway (actually we saw 4-5 during the whole day) but even if we stopped one car, there was nothing they could do as they would get just as stuck before they even reached us.<br />
<br />
So I'll leave these two miserable creatures sitting in the mudd there to jump forward for a moment and give you some information about the situation that we did not know about at that very moment. Firstly, it was forbidden to spend a night on the Mereene Loop, it was 50,000 dollars fine for doing that (but that was the fault of the guy who have us the permit that we did not know that) and secondly the Mereene Loop road was closed because of the rains - so no cars were allowed to come on that road because there was too much water. So our chances of being rescued by someone else were even thinner than we knew it at that moment. And well... these were aboriginal lands, but we already knew that.<br />
<br />
So while I was depressed to the bone and thought that this may be where we will stay, Erik decided that we will not get out if we do not do anything. So he got out in the rain, got us both dry, rainproof clothes, put them on and headed outside to assess the situation. The rain got also weaker (and even stopped for some periods of time) and since Erik was being busy, I had to do something as well. So Erik was digging drenches to get the water out from under our car (as soon as the rain got weaker, the water started slowly-slowly disappearing as well but the ground was all very soft), to build put branches under the wheels etc. I started putting branches over the softer parts of ground where we would need to cross. We even took some of the heavier things, like spare fuel and water out of the car to make it lighter. But no matter what we did, we still needed to get the car out of the hole first so we decided to try the bushmechanics method. Out of our four wheels, one front wheel had traction - all the other three were going around in the air. We took a rope and a strap, connected them to each other, tied one end to a tree and the other end to the front wheel that was going around. The idea was to use the wheel as a winch. The first attempt was unsuccessful - the strap snapped almost immediately. The second time, we doubled up the strap and... it worked!! So the car got out of the mud-holes and... got stuck about 5m later. But now we were smarter - we started taking down the branches and digging right away (we were about 70m away from the road but it was all soft mud) and got out... and got stuck again... We were muddy and wet and tired; all of our stuff was lying beside the mudholes and branch-roads that we had left behind. So when we got stuck for the sixth time, I built a more proper road than the previous ones - over 5 metres of branch road, that would actually help to hold the car. And it helped - the short stretch of branch 'road' was enough to build up the speed and get through the last 60m of mud.<br />
<br />
So we gathered up all of our things that were spread out in the bush (all covered in red mud) and continued our journey, after 6 hours of building and digging. The rest of Mereene loop was... wet, to say the least. We had small lakes on our way that we had to go through and we just tried to keep to the centre and hope that the water had not taken a part of the road away (luckily it had not)and jokingly said to each other 'I think this road might be closed'. We got to Kings Canyon resort (and the sealed road started again, went to the bar, got ourselves a pizza and a beer and were happy that we were moving again. I asked the barman, where the actual Kings Canyon was. He told me that the road was closed. We were kind of relieved about that because we were not in a mood for any more adventures on that day anyway. So we started driving away from Kings Canyon when... there were signs on the road 'No access'. So I jumped into the local reception to find out, if there was any way that we could use for leaving. And that was when I found out about Mereene Loop being closed, about the 50,000 fine and also that the main road was under water and closed. We were trapped. We drove back on our unsealed road for about 20km and stayed in a free rest area. Over there we got our last big rains and suddenly the sun came out. It was minutes (even seconds) from the strongest rains to bright, clear blue skies. As we later found out, the same rains continued their way down south (they got ahead of us while we were stuck) and caused floods, panic and evacuations in South Australia (we heard about them in the news).<br />
<br />
So anyways... the weather was nice again, we did go to see the Canyon for a bit on the next day but we were not really in the right mood because of what we had to go through to get there. So we decided to go straight to Uluru instead. I had really low expectations, going to Uluru. People are saying that it is just a big rock. So when we saw it on the horizon, 50km away from it, I still did not think much of it. But actually it left a great impression. Yes it is a big rock. But it is a f***ing big rock. It is of a bright red colour which changes the red or orange depending on the time of day and the light. It is very important to the aboriginal people, because it gathers water and gives shade. We read the stories about the rock and went around it - and I can say it is so much more than what you can see from the picture. The pictures are all taken from one and the same side. Actually it has amazing shapes and waterfalls, and images and shapes on it (the blackfellas have stories and myths for all of the shapes), some areas look like illuminators of a spaceship (I really think it is a possibility that it was a spaceship), others look like there are people trapped inside the stone, trying to get out; it has caves and holes and amazing shapes and patterns on it. <br />
<br />
So that evening we had a sleeping spot on a sand-dune, where we could see the magical Uluru straight from our camp. Our magical evening was ruined a bit my the millions of flying termites who come after the rains. We finally had to hide in the tent. We didn't even have to put out our candle outside because it was so full of insects after a while that the light went out. So there we were, in the red centre; in a place that sometimes does not see rain for years and we were there at the time of the worst floods. But at least the nature was happy - the insects were going crazy and everything was green.<br />
<br />
I'll skip the next one thousand kilometres (and a couple of days of driving) because there was nothing there, literally. As soon as South Australia started, it was back to low bush... and there was only one town on the way - Coober Pedy where half of the houses are under ground and where they dig for opals. So we finally got to Adelaide to meet some of the friends that we had met on our Gibb River Road trip (I think I did mention them). We spent the days around the New Years in a farm, 10km out of a town called Mannum. We found out that South Australia is the weed capital of Australia, as far as I have seen. It is cheap around there and people are very relaxed about it as well. So when we were out at Mannum on New Year's (we were the only backbackers that we saw during these days, everyone else were Aussies) and the days around it as well, almost every person, from teenagers to older people (for example our hosts, who were 50-year-old farmer-motorcyclists) were quite openly consuming cannabis (although is is still illegal there as well). We actually spent most of our New Year's across the river from Mannum (there was a free ferry going 24/7), made some sašlõkk (marinated meat, the Estonian way. I wanted to make yoghurt marinade and accidentally bought the wrong kind. So we had mixed berry yoghurt sašlõkk), chilled and camped. Followed by a day of lying down in a big bus, set up net to our friend's house, that was rocking like a boat the whole day that we were watching movies and doing absolutely nothing.<br />
<br />
We spent almost a week going from Adelaide to Melbourne on the Great Ocean Road. The closer we got to Melbourne the more tourists we saw. We went to see the 12 apostles (formerly 12, now about 5,5 big rock formations in the sea) and were shocked - the parking lot was bigger than a big shopping centre and it was all full of people. But The Great Ocean Road was cool - winding up and down in the forests and mountains or cut into rock by the sea, with steep rock going up on one side and steep rock going down to the sea on the other side.<br />
<br />
We ended our journey in a house full of Estonians. So far we have spent most of our time in Australia with Australians (the cattle station life and chilling out near Adelaide for example) and had only seen a few Estonians in the six months that we have spent here. And now we lived with eight of them. Well... actually the house was full, which meant that we put our huge tent (a big 4-person tent - some beetles had eaten holes in the small one that we previously had, so we had to get a new one in Darwin and the 4-person tent had the best price-quality relation) in the back yard, which was tiny and paved. But that did not really matter - we had a lemon tree growing in the garden, access to shower, toilet and kitchen, and lived in Melbourne, so everything was perfect. Anyways, our friends from Estonia, Jaanika and Karl, were coming to Australia for the very first time and we wanted to help them get started with their travels here (get a bank account, TFN, phone number, car etc) and that was the main reason for being in Melbourne when we were there.<br />
<br />
So after a week of urban camping we moved up to the mountains to Kinglake (a bit over an hour out of Melbourne). Erik got a job here that actually has something to do with his studies, which is a good thing (I can't imagine even getting one myself because noone wants a teacher for just a few months) and I decided to find a job somewhere around here as well. Have not been so lucky yet, but I have had some promising replies from the local bars-cafès. So now we have our own caravan, a view over the mountains and quite good facilities. The small farm that we live in also has sheep, horses, dogs, rabbits and chicken (free eggs!). We are planning to stay here for a while so I will probably have time to write again a bit sooner. Probably when I actually get a job and we find out what our daily life here will look like.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-43298341342814797872016-10-29T15:28:00.000-07:002016-11-01T03:31:28.116-07:00Life with cows and the Gibb river road<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">So by now we have
worked here on the station for a month and probably will work for another one
and a half. As I think I already mentioned, we are working in a station that is like the
stop-off before the abattoir. So basically all the bush around the Kimberley
region is full of cows, who live totally free for whole of their life, very
often not even ever seeing a human being. Then they are mustered in all of the
stations. Mostly helicopters, motorbikes and quad-bikes are used for that, as
doing it on foot or even on horses would
be too difficult because of the large areas. So the cows come here in big
double-decker trucks, we unload them (they have usually been caught not even
a week before they get here) and then we process them. If the cows come from
tick-infested areas, then we dip them in water, mixed with a solution against
ticks. Then all the cows are drafted, which means that we sort them into groups
(getting to know some of the groups takes a bit of time, as they have a
different name for everyone - we have mickeys, heffers, pot pots, steer,
spadejobs, export cows and so on and so on... every category always has
sub-categories as well). The main part of my job is getting the cows and bulls
from their pens and chasing them down the lane-ways, keeping them moving (coming
through the gate one by one for example) and later, when they are all ready to
go into the pens (probably different ones that they were in before because we
have sorted into new subgroups) then I use the quad-bike to chase them back. For
example they may come in as one group but be taken back as four or even six
different groups to as many different pens. In order to do that a lot of
different gates have to be opened and closed because the yards are kind of like
a big labyrinth that can be changed around according to the needs. I also help to load the trucks, clean the
water- and feed draughts, bring hay for the pens that don’t have a feed drought,
fix the fences and basically do everything that is needed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">The cows can be
very smart sometimes. For example they figure it out very soon that if they brake
their water draught then they will get better water - we have automatic
systems in every one that have floats, so when the water level gets too low,
more water will flow into the drought. Of course the water gets warm in the 40
degrees that we have outside, so if they break the system they will get a
constant flow of cold water. But that means firstly that the pens of the cows
downhill from the ’smart ones’ will get flooded and if it happens more than
once in a short period of time then they get stuck in the deep mud and we have to pull
them out of it. Secondly it means that the pens that are further away from the
water pumps will not get any new water at all because all the water goes into
the water draught of the cows who have overflowing draughts. Whereas the cows
that are in the open paddocks have realized that they can go further away from
the water draughts (to get the good grass and stuff from the farther corners)
when it rains, because they don’t have to stay near the water anymore. Not to
mention the fact that some bulls discovered that it they work together to lift
up the pipe above their food draught, then they have enough space to go outside.
The latter resulted in us finding 30 bulls in a pen one morning that was
supposed to have 80. So they can be pretty witty sometimes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Another thing
that I did not realize before is that cowboys don’t have their cowboy clothes
because that is their style and they're trying to be fashionable. Everything actually has a point. For example, the
hat covers the face and neck and the dent in top enables you to grab the hat
with one hand to use it to chase the cows from one place to another. A 5-dollar
straw hat (that you could use for any fruit-veg picking job) breaks in a couple
of days if you try to use it like that. The small scarves are for the dust. And
I would not even dream of going to work without jeans (or any other long pants
that are made of a stronger material) because the fences are burning hot and
you will need to jump on them and over them for sure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">So most of the
cows that live here are big and wild and will not really let you go close to
them. But there are some of them that are pet cows. For example there is a
threesome – Snowflake, Chockflake and Peaches, who always chill around together
(outside the yards of course) and they love their scratches and pats. In return
they will lick you with their long blue tongues that are just about as soft as
sandpaper. And then there is Lenny, who is the sweetest big bull that I have
seen. He just came up to me one day when we were drafting (I had to stand in
their pen to open the gates and help the others form that side) and I was not sure how to
react at first, because as I said, they are usually not very approachable. But
later I found out that he will come and rub his head against you and is the
most gentle animal ever. And then there are the calves of course, who are the
cutest things ever. The newborns are cool as they are still discovering the
world. For example one discovered that it had a tongue and it was trying to
look at it from every corner for twenty minutes and looked very surprised that it was attached to
it and that it could move the strange thing. The same happened with one calf and his legs the other time (imagine someone walking and trying to stand up, being surprised and a bit afraid of their own legs at the same time).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">One thing that
bothers me is the concept of eco marketing, seen from this point of view. So
all our cows are being grown naturally and are very ’eco’ but that also means
that no additional vitamins or food supplements can be given to them to fight
some of the diseases. And when a cow is sick and you treat it with any medications
then the price drops drastically (even after the withholding period that most of
the medicines have - the period that it takes for the animal to get the
medicine out of this system). So as soon as you try to help the cow (and I am
not talking about injecting it with some hormones to make it grow faster or
anything like that), it is considered bad in the nowadays great ’eco-friendly
world’ and the cow is "not as good".<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Before Australia,
cowboys were something out of the movie for me. I did not really realize that
they actually exist. But it is a whole different world. They do actually listen
to country music and go to rodeos, catch cows with lassos (but only as a
competition). They have their famous bull riders and famous bulls (people
actually know some bulls all over the world by name). They have their own brand
products – you have like a „Prada“ of ropes that you use for staying on bulls
when they are bucking; you have the „Adidas“ of cowboy hats or an „Armani“ of clothes or other stuff that they use. So a whole new world in opening up to me (I don’t think
I’ll get too deep into that world, but is very fascinating to have some peeks)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">But speaking
about other nature around here, it gave me quite the scare once as well – I was
cleaning a big water tank a few weeks ago and opened the tap on the outside
bottom part that is used for letting water out, when I felt something weird on
my hand. It kind of felt like two or three ants had bitten me or getting burned
by a stinging nettle, so it was more of an uncomfortable itch than anything
else. So I went back to the tap and saw a Redback sitting on the tap (who does
not know, a Redback is Australia’s second most venomous spider and in top five
in the world according to any lists that I found on the internet). So anyway,
the skin was a bit reddish and there was a small drop of blood in the middle. I
thought that as soon as it gets worse, I will go back to show it to someone, but
it really never did get worse (so I was not sure if I had gotten stung by it at all). In
an hour, there was nothing else to be seen than a tiniest puncture mark, which
turned into the tiniest bruise on the next day. Well... after some more
googling, I found out that only 6-10% of all people have a reaction to the
bite, which means that I most likely was bitten
by one of the most venomous spiders in the world but just did not have a
reaction. (as the spider was sitting right were I had been bitten and it
definitely was not an ant, that leaves a mark like that).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">So yeah... the days
are long (start at 6am finish at 5-6pm), the temperature is hot (35-40 degrees)
the work can be very physical and hard but every time that I feel tired or fed
up, something good happens. For example you see some kangaroos hopping by you, while you go home at the sunset, dead tired of anyone or anything, especially
when you have had some d***head bulls who just will not do anything you want
them to. Or you pick up a newborn cow, discover that the shit on it is not dry
at all (and cover yourself completely with it) and you take it back to the
nearest pen (being frustrated that you did it at all because it probably isn’t even the right pen)
and then the next day you discover that the calf has found a mother (not
necessarily the right mother, but that does not matter, as long as it has a
mother who takes care of it). So little good things, mostly things that the
animals around here do, are the things that really make this job great.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">But we have not
been working the whole time. We had a plan to go to the Gibb River Road from
the moment that we bought our car. The Gibb is supposed to be a kind of a
must-do for 4WD cars in West Australia but it closes down during the rainy
season because you can’t really get over all the flood-ways and rivers plus the
rain washes some parts of the road away. But now we also had a job that we
liked... which was a bit of a problem. So we managed to talk the people in the
station into letting us go on a trip for a week - which owed us some jealous
and envious looks, because noone else was getting a week off and had to work.
But to be fair, we had planned Gibb for longer than we had planned to be
cowboys so we would have gone anyway... the difference would have just been
whether we came back or not. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">So just as we
started our trip, when we had driven for about 100kms (and heading off to 660km
of gravel road with no towns or mechanical services etc) we heard a loud pop
under our hood. When we stopped to take a look we discovered that one of our
radiator hoses had burst into two pieces. We used the cheap and horrible duct
tape that we had to patch it up and headed to Derby (the last actual town on our way to Gibb river road, where we were planning to get all the food and fuel etc from), very hopefully. As it was Saturday
afternoon, no mechanics were working and no shop or wreckers that sold any car
parts was going to be open before Monday. But we did find two guys just having
beers and chilling in a garage (that was actually also closed) and fixing their
boat or something like that. As it happened they had an old Pajero (the same
car that we have but a different model) in their back yard, that still had the
radiator hose intact and they were happy to give it to us for free as long as
we took it off and put it in ourselves and they even threw a bit of coolant in
our radiator. That was another happening in our „extremely lucky Australia“
series. In the same series is: 1. Getting exactly the car that we wanted on the
first day of arriving to Australia with less than a half of its market price 2.
Getting the jobs that we wanted without really going through too much trouble
3. Getting an optometrist in Broome to open a shop especially for me on a Sunday
(they are all closed on sunday)... three times, because I needed new glasses
and also wanted to order some prescription sunnies (the sun is really hard on
the eyes) 4. the Redback thing 5. We met some cool guys at a gorge, who pulled
up at the gorge at the same moment that we did (going the opposite direction on
Gibb), we gave them beers, they gave us other stuff in return and we had the
nicest chilled two hours before going our separate ways 6.I can’t remember them
all, but unbelievably good things keep happening to us on this trip.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Anyways, The Gibb
River road.... we were told to carry at least two spare tyres, 40 litres of
water per person and were warned that we should drive in a convoy as there are
no cars on Gibb and it is so incredibly dangerous. Well sometimes (read:all the
f***ing time) Aussies seem to make things worse than they actually are. Gibb
was just a gravel road – ok, the rains had washed some parts of it away a bit
and we had to cross water about ten times during the 660km but... we did not
break any tyres (nor did we meet anyone who had), there was water available in
at least three places on the road and we saw 6-8 cars every single day. And
people help each other... especially on a road like that, almost noone will
pass you, when they see that you have some trouble. It is remote, but people
behave differently in remote areas as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">We did see some
crocodiles and accidentally swam with two of them - we did not see them before
getting out of the water. They were freshies so they do not really attack them
unless you step on their foot or something like that. But even knowing that
they are quite harmless, I was not keen on crossing the water inside a cave in
another gorge with two crocodiles being next to the water and at last three
inside it. so we did not go to the end of the Tunnel Creek. We also saw a turtle
and loads and loads of kangaroos and cows. Plus some bigger and smaller
lizards. And I could also describe how amazing the nature was, but I am not so
poetic, that I could actually explain you any of this. We also discovered (not
the first time) that we are not really good tourists because after a few days
we stop appreciating things. If the gorges (even one of them. even the least
amazing one) were in Estonia I would tell every person visiting Estonia how
great it is and that you have to go there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Unfortunately the
wet season is really near so some of the gorges were already closed and we
finished the Gibb in just three days. So we decided to go and see the Bungle Bungles
as well, which was also very cool, except the drive into the national park
because the road was so corrugated that it took us more than 1,5 hours to drive
50km. the Bungle Bungles are basically these mountains that look like orange
and black striped domes. It is hard to believe that these things actually occur
naturally if you don’t see them yourself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">But now we’re
back in the cattle station to work some more. The weather has gotten hotter
since we left and the air is more humid, plus the mosquitos have also appeared.
So if I post anything else in the near future it will probably be about cows
(or other animals) because they are a cool bunch of animals when you get to
know them and we’re not quite done being cowboys.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">PS. I will not add pictures here right now, because the internet is even worse than it was before (it took me 40 minutes to add this post, although I had pre-written it in the computer), but I will add pics in facebook. If I feel incredibly patient one day, I might add them later.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-61681707451992485382016-09-28T21:35:00.001-07:002016-09-28T21:35:37.188-07:00How we became cowboys<div class="MsoNormal">
So when I last
wrote, we were about to hit the road to go through the Great Sandy Desert. I
must have remembered a different section of the Great Sandy (it continues after
Broome), because the part we went through was anything but sandy... or a desert.
The bush was very high and there were even quite a lot of trees. But it was
big, so we did not drive through it with one day, but stopped for a night.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">When we got to
Broome, we decided that there was no point in looking fr a job because it was
Sunday, so we decided to be tourists for a day. In Broome there occurs a
natural phenomena called The Staircase to the Moon (actually you can see
similar thing in other places in the northern part of Aus as well), which
happens on about three days of the month (and not the whole year) during the
full moon. The last time we were here, we got here on the second day of the
staircarse, but there were bushfires around Broome, so we could not see it
(plus we locked ourselves out or our car, hurrying to go and see it and had to
ask a former car-thief aboriginal guy to help us break into our car) and on the
other day that it was supposed to happen, there were clouds. This time we were
determined to see it. So this time we actually saw it on one evening (the
second one was cloudy again). The Staircase to the moon is basically the
moonrise (the moon is very big and orange and seems to be close) over the low
tide areas of the gulf of Broome. And when you are located in the right place
then the big pools of low water are lit up and they create an image which is
similar to... a staircase to the moon. So that was very cool, but I have so
shitty camera that I did not even try to take pictures of it so you can google
it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">The next day was
supposed to be our big job-searching day. We did apply to some of them that we
found in gumtree but we spent most of our day not doing much. So when an
Italian bloke that we met, saw us sitting in the caravan park, he was telling
us „I thought you were going to find a job. You are not going to find a job
sitting over here in the caravan park.“. Well... a couple of hours later, an
Aussie guy that we had had beers with the previous night came home from work
and brought us a piece of paper with an add „Station hands wanted“. I had
actually thought about working in in a station before (actual cowboys and
stuff) but I never thought that I would be considered for the job as I don’t
have any experience. So we called them immediately and they said that they
would consider us if we thought that we were up for the job. We promised to
rock up at the station to talk about it more specifically. After a 70km drive
(20 of which is not tarmac but sand, and it is used by heavy trucks every day,
so you can imagine the condition) we arrived at Kilto station, had a couple of
words with the manager and promised to come back the same evening to start the
next day, as we still needed some working clothes for the job - steel-capped
shoes, as we don’t want to lose our toes when half a ton of cow steps on them
and hats... I did feel kind of pretentious showing up with a cowboy hat but it
was the same price as the normal hay-hats plus my head is so big (because of
the hair) that I did not have much of a choice anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">So what exactly
do we do here? Erik is mostly driving around with a tractor and doing stuff (cutting
hay, meintenancing the machines and so on) and I am in the export yards. That
basically means that we have big yards with several different pens full of cows
and bulls (about three thousand of them at the moment) and we are chasing the
cows all day from one place to another. The cows have previously been brought
up in open paddocks (or completely in the wild... so they are wild, free-range
cows) and then brought to the yards. From here, they will either go to the
abattoir (a fancy word from slaughter house), to Indonesia, be put on more feed
(if they are not big enough) or to some open paddocks to wait for their time. So
we are sorting them according to their size, sex, if they are going to be
breeding more, if they need any medical attention, branding, cutting the tips
of their horns (mostly for themselves, as they like to poke each other. but also
for us, as they get stressed when we are trying to make them go from one place
to another and they try to attack us) and so on. So yeah... a lot of chasing
cows, climbing fences, opening gates and being chased by cows, all in quite a
heat (the fences are burning hot during the day but I can’t be a pussy and wear
gloves when noone else is wearing them), as the winter is ending now, plus we
are more in the north as well. So far I have liked the job, because it is very
different from what I have done before, the pace of working is quite relaxed, except
the running every now and then, and the people I work with/for are also nice.
You don’t have to worry about looking neat – I can be covered in cow shit and
nobody cares; you can swear and curse all you want, as your supervisors are
doing exactly the same. I wouldn’t even mind dragging dead cows away with the
car if the smell at the death-pit would not be so horribly disgusting and thick
(but that’s just one fraction of the job- usually 15min to 30min of the day)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">We live in a shed
(as everything is a shed in Australia) and we get fed every day so no cooking
after or during the long days of working. There is more wildlife here as well,
than in the towns. For example there are big lizard-like animals (goannas)
living here; the ones we have seen are about 1,5 metres long. A pink geko lives
in our room, although it does not want to show itself often. There are frogs
living i the bathroom-toilet shed. One time when I decided to go to the toilet,
I saw two or three frogs in the shower, two-three were on the walls and edges
around the toilet pot, and as I pushed one off the toilet seat (thinking this
was the last one), I saw three in the toilet, who did not care at all that I
tried to flush them off (they usually jump out when you flush). So I decided
that it is just so much easier to go behind the toilet. And of course there are
cows and bulls running around as well – the naughty ones who have escaped the
pens or paddocks and also some friendly pet-cows. There are also very cool
birds – many different colours of birds that I would call parrots, but also
storks, hen-like birds and so on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-43362575886282485532016-09-15T23:07:00.000-07:002016-09-15T23:07:10.782-07:00Pilbara bushlife<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">After the last
two days at work (Saturday was a full day, so 1,5 times eleven hours’ pay,
which was great) a good-bye gathering at our place and the Sports Club, and
cleaning up the house so as not to get fined for not cleaning up after all that
the previous tenants of the last two months had left behind, we finally hit the
road and left Onslow behind for good. The first drive to Karratha (3 hours)
seemed long and slow because we were not used to these long drives anymore. In
Karratha, I wanted to buy almost everything that I saw because firstly I could
(no possibilities in Onslow for any kind of equipment) and secondly, everything
was so much cheaper (sometimes 150% cheaper and other times 3-4 times or even 7
times cheaper than Onslow General Store). Did some illegal camping just out of
Karratha (can give tips if anyone needs to do the same in the future :D) with a
great view to the sea and mangroves to get all geared up on food -next shop
635km- and fuel -next, very expensive one 573km away, (if we would have gone
straight, which we did not). Our next stop was the Millstream Chichester
national park with an Oasis in the bush (some pools and rivers, great views
from lookouts) where we stayed for one night; did not pay entrance, but paid
for camping, which was enough for us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOddiHb3qC7qhWFRrfL9IeXvIK7-TK2PRLuk9_XV-i4vDa-iaQioCScj2lL9RbK225n1-HE9-E9K4RxAGgpGhfZ_1Md4sDE2FLvjxmrw9y2aD6TJ7oa-lE1GI4gnpymhxEVV3ggFh6Uuw/s1600/fSAM_2039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOddiHb3qC7qhWFRrfL9IeXvIK7-TK2PRLuk9_XV-i4vDa-iaQioCScj2lL9RbK225n1-HE9-E9K4RxAGgpGhfZ_1Md4sDE2FLvjxmrw9y2aD6TJ7oa-lE1GI4gnpymhxEVV3ggFh6Uuw/s640/fSAM_2039.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the road again</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3b50-00oMJTrI9kQV0SVCWxCNiRnWty4uQE3v3SvNAvf2etxqOoFol3D92LTTuDXED8GoPHgfZU-znbTIAOk0c9go6W1B7Ic9MSeYUHxrcNVPFGWLdfIxNHlE3BHizLHltrt-CIkQLS0/s1600/fSAM_2051.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3b50-00oMJTrI9kQV0SVCWxCNiRnWty4uQE3v3SvNAvf2etxqOoFol3D92LTTuDXED8GoPHgfZU-znbTIAOk0c9go6W1B7Ic9MSeYUHxrcNVPFGWLdfIxNHlE3BHizLHltrt-CIkQLS0/s640/fSAM_2051.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some aboriginal rockart</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP4y21_G-UteuJax2JQTo4a31Ib0XpF_vlpAaPK0z2p_8KpqS59DmMI-RrdgQ_4JTrQg3C2U5p1bfLQfz9CxLXQ4ly2mtUhS5SGSlYb80DZ0SlD1GyS0aKTF2feKIIT5bLrS71U8nn4qA/s1600/fSAM_2057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP4y21_G-UteuJax2JQTo4a31Ib0XpF_vlpAaPK0z2p_8KpqS59DmMI-RrdgQ_4JTrQg3C2U5p1bfLQfz9CxLXQ4ly2mtUhS5SGSlYb80DZ0SlD1GyS0aKTF2feKIIT5bLrS71U8nn4qA/s640/fSAM_2057.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Have to be careful while admiring the rockart</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhwHJDcT_r5McItvIGWBg0UXgsVmEirc-C4DtM7HbCCGzwiDey3CjOPiCbHWZfbJwONTW8-ajRaLl3bMLWYfkUvpXhTrEwAZ3tNsMWYawCg_adhS6csRmPGo7Q93HbZOlnIeHIN-es1Pk/s1600/fSAM_2059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhwHJDcT_r5McItvIGWBg0UXgsVmEirc-C4DtM7HbCCGzwiDey3CjOPiCbHWZfbJwONTW8-ajRaLl3bMLWYfkUvpXhTrEwAZ3tNsMWYawCg_adhS6csRmPGo7Q93HbZOlnIeHIN-es1Pk/s1600/fSAM_2059.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">For Vidrik</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTBiXZ7tsiqfs-WugZLY-H2wO8X3leriHbVfl4XxFlaQHSvZ-WmsuViwCe1WSth3f5qu2AIipOM-qXionR-MxmTi3Poq5fCBZSJJCXBVavljq0AttmV01dwBWXNi1f7PtbmVMXYzFfT8c/s1600/fSAM_2067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTBiXZ7tsiqfs-WugZLY-H2wO8X3leriHbVfl4XxFlaQHSvZ-WmsuViwCe1WSth3f5qu2AIipOM-qXionR-MxmTi3Poq5fCBZSJJCXBVavljq0AttmV01dwBWXNi1f7PtbmVMXYzFfT8c/s640/fSAM_2067.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just chillin</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3S1C0o27ruOqtsmPhwc2c4DCIV3SL3PpMFZEx48QuL6dAQdcxUv5KsKfYsOlKByXmX4XcBSfZvwIaDq3z7z7pv9mUOAwuI1e0st44Nn3dgjv1jhZEjwJZS94uotFNxX7kUS-7sz-xULo/s1600/SAM_2027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3S1C0o27ruOqtsmPhwc2c4DCIV3SL3PpMFZEx48QuL6dAQdcxUv5KsKfYsOlKByXmX4XcBSfZvwIaDq3z7z7pv9mUOAwuI1e0st44Nn3dgjv1jhZEjwJZS94uotFNxX7kUS-7sz-xULo/s640/SAM_2027.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The leaving party</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzsb6wBRvSZ6F5sKq0nUC1BYb2D5a8-xS1XgWz_mA7T5tLnx8k7sIbF2kloVi90QsvO11EvMelgPHj1z_7x5ZefOwcRSCIDAQTPSZ3Jm8o3Ht1W2rXjQdMqscmUaJRNrUBqc1kDBckuP0/s1600/SAM_2034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzsb6wBRvSZ6F5sKq0nUC1BYb2D5a8-xS1XgWz_mA7T5tLnx8k7sIbF2kloVi90QsvO11EvMelgPHj1z_7x5ZefOwcRSCIDAQTPSZ3Jm8o3Ht1W2rXjQdMqscmUaJRNrUBqc1kDBckuP0/s640/SAM_2034.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playing balls at Onslow Sportsclub</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGrR43TSfyGMwghFbmo8i3w6SL9sXASSGivjLFfkolsq6PwBmIcv26uWzXYdmV0XThpIcEvBDMkTMfvN3qXCdDjt70WD0pJHdcGftpsIsXKabU_lZBVYxmtkLXkDlb3JWe_-15EPl4-WI/s1600/SAM_2038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGrR43TSfyGMwghFbmo8i3w6SL9sXASSGivjLFfkolsq6PwBmIcv26uWzXYdmV0XThpIcEvBDMkTMfvN3qXCdDjt70WD0pJHdcGftpsIsXKabU_lZBVYxmtkLXkDlb3JWe_-15EPl4-WI/s640/SAM_2038.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Onslow Sportsclub</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ1TwsJnbINBd5719sZZwHpjRSrMDHzSQSQdXBNnymFkXOszlMWcwyPHTsib-vLzwoBCQEVHylKTTFO_6rL9VtMCU_cmzUacRbtQ975vqJT8E9CjvLhZlfZsPub9M7m0cwF-LMsUSr09A/s1600/SAM_2040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ1TwsJnbINBd5719sZZwHpjRSrMDHzSQSQdXBNnymFkXOszlMWcwyPHTsib-vLzwoBCQEVHylKTTFO_6rL9VtMCU_cmzUacRbtQ975vqJT8E9CjvLhZlfZsPub9M7m0cwF-LMsUSr09A/s640/SAM_2040.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNgLp1SyIQt2wXBh7YQ0aMieOzEB2GG9jKqvEihiW1b_ymsR382JDa-O2v67rXRYbbXN9ATRYbawqtW-bBRk2GQsSyYiKMWe2JznUtsJdEn-lFs5689lkNHG09PPm6viIdAj6Equn2W1I/s1600/SAM_2042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNgLp1SyIQt2wXBh7YQ0aMieOzEB2GG9jKqvEihiW1b_ymsR382JDa-O2v67rXRYbbXN9ATRYbawqtW-bBRk2GQsSyYiKMWe2JznUtsJdEn-lFs5689lkNHG09PPm6viIdAj6Equn2W1I/s640/SAM_2042.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our view at the illegal camping spot near Karratha</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZBY4-cib2SDfs8tiVDv6uieERkccHQMc8j-uegHCXm6U1hR7FUd2c2Ko8gwuKrBCazXxl1EIxTaTOFwz4k4aOZRPsK748O1FNJLLf7XKZeLhCB1KNL01RKD3EsoxriyThOKeJho3d1w/s1600/SAM_2048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZBY4-cib2SDfs8tiVDv6uieERkccHQMc8j-uegHCXm6U1hR7FUd2c2Ko8gwuKrBCazXxl1EIxTaTOFwz4k4aOZRPsK748O1FNJLLf7XKZeLhCB1KNL01RKD3EsoxriyThOKeJho3d1w/s640/SAM_2048.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some more rockart</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRj-Er2vB3u4cjb-MyXyGrCONQCHSmmvuUbSFJizZbTGj5B5mYJD7CZ0Z8zm2k54kMrmjgnQBJu8uUbC7P04HgFcyiVTxwwHBk3D83Witj6lpQaPGzgEfVgXBuPdHdbwbbloZs7-vQJJM/s1600/SAM_2060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRj-Er2vB3u4cjb-MyXyGrCONQCHSmmvuUbSFJizZbTGj5B5mYJD7CZ0Z8zm2k54kMrmjgnQBJu8uUbC7P04HgFcyiVTxwwHBk3D83Witj6lpQaPGzgEfVgXBuPdHdbwbbloZs7-vQJJM/s640/SAM_2060.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A wildflower</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOPQMAjmjzkSNnVr74N9jFH_Sy7pFeJRtzuAj784c8oTIqlWzdgPvAD_z80A_Y99Wfr1GyOrbQpedB_po8Pstp2u_YB_wwf7DTX7283XlmURfMpCI3Slqbuk6FyauIs9rHTBRa-q-fJTk/s1600/SAM_2076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOPQMAjmjzkSNnVr74N9jFH_Sy7pFeJRtzuAj784c8oTIqlWzdgPvAD_z80A_Y99Wfr1GyOrbQpedB_po8Pstp2u_YB_wwf7DTX7283XlmURfMpCI3Slqbuk6FyauIs9rHTBRa-q-fJTk/s640/SAM_2076.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Python pool</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpydPSxnHw1H_nHnaeof_sQfRRdq-jjcQXm5dvk4dHptmo552TeQr7rO5PHt2VL7PGAnGG8QzdqZuMkQyyCurg-IsATRjHF7miJZYJltxCXJBVUuz1YV1l_NsNhhLhWujq8qMK18RA_S4/s1600/SAM_2088.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpydPSxnHw1H_nHnaeof_sQfRRdq-jjcQXm5dvk4dHptmo552TeQr7rO5PHt2VL7PGAnGG8QzdqZuMkQyyCurg-IsATRjHF7miJZYJltxCXJBVUuz1YV1l_NsNhhLhWujq8qMK18RA_S4/s640/SAM_2088.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Next day we
headed for the Karijini National park. The main park is in the south, which we
already saw four years ago when we were also in this region. We decided to take
the northern road, because we had not been there yet, although there were no
roads on the map that actually lead towards the park. Actually there was
nothing at all on the map on this road except a town name „Wittenoom“, but we’ll
get to that. There was also a gorge that we had visited the last time on the
western side of Karijini (gorges are deep narrow valleys with steep sides,
which Karijini is known for) that was one of my favourite ones, and since it
was only a 30km detour, we decided to see it again. Nearing the gorge from the
exact opposite direction than we had done the previous time, we found ourselves
on a road that was less than two cars wide and had rock walls going straight up
on both sides. There were some wider pockets between its bending curves for
when you met another car, but as it happens often in the West, we did not meet
any cars. The last time we had been in the Hamersey gorge, the parking lot and
the facilities were still being built and we were able to swim and climb in its
pools alone for a long time before the next visitors came. This time,
everything was all ready and polished and we found seven cars in the parking
lot, German echoing all over the valley. The gorge still had its colorful wavy
walls – a psychedelic effect guaranteed- and the water was still pretty and
clean, with trees giving shade and so on, so despite all the people, it was
still worth the detour.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqkhIGKlBkTZhcqubh9DldONv4VGvxKfFyPZpp_cbl51yX98DA_xUShejiABAp1q8gq1PtXiKiuNrWRY2uu7rJZIgBss8NbEiL-J8FnZlDI3sfzLrsg2_2ePw3ePBuucGmH4qA_z583TQ/s1600/fSAM_2114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqkhIGKlBkTZhcqubh9DldONv4VGvxKfFyPZpp_cbl51yX98DA_xUShejiABAp1q8gq1PtXiKiuNrWRY2uu7rJZIgBss8NbEiL-J8FnZlDI3sfzLrsg2_2ePw3ePBuucGmH4qA_z583TQ/s640/fSAM_2114.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hamersley gorge</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgpZ6G5ykdHLs6Z9yDwkVwwYu4a_DOm39SVPnNyKRn0-kR6gipSq72wLgQymYcQZuWkXHyuqwEavMeOczjaPqs6GTeYFn0JJqPqRQGvqEiyViJgq6S0a2tUNgSedubCxa2O_RyovAGjFQ/s1600/fSAM_2130.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgpZ6G5ykdHLs6Z9yDwkVwwYu4a_DOm39SVPnNyKRn0-kR6gipSq72wLgQymYcQZuWkXHyuqwEavMeOczjaPqs6GTeYFn0JJqPqRQGvqEiyViJgq6S0a2tUNgSedubCxa2O_RyovAGjFQ/s640/fSAM_2130.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hamersley gorge</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzE_8eb_vIRfLiBtOj6YHwzSJQT8Q4O6FKXESIK-SnJE3QCSIU6XqHKpK__O4DVC9X6Yt4m04UeaiEKzbFDTCOr9LW2iAQuGiXIYH93MxaEKY95iUz0phFESYLr2XdSXsEAxsxmtglI4M/s1600/SAM_2110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzE_8eb_vIRfLiBtOj6YHwzSJQT8Q4O6FKXESIK-SnJE3QCSIU6XqHKpK__O4DVC9X6Yt4m04UeaiEKzbFDTCOr9LW2iAQuGiXIYH93MxaEKY95iUz0phFESYLr2XdSXsEAxsxmtglI4M/s640/SAM_2110.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunch break</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwxKhHXURr_jmameWg5xss85xWNc3d2UhcZ6wT7ScB2Y7xnoIZUYkWan4NDT1Pd4C2Kyh6ty3DM5e50_K61cDBlg5CQ04Aqx894o-Vu-l76aOPNb0jrheIcF93iym4pWGMBee13IfPIqY/s1600/SAM_2120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwxKhHXURr_jmameWg5xss85xWNc3d2UhcZ6wT7ScB2Y7xnoIZUYkWan4NDT1Pd4C2Kyh6ty3DM5e50_K61cDBlg5CQ04Aqx894o-Vu-l76aOPNb0jrheIcF93iym4pWGMBee13IfPIqY/s640/SAM_2120.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More of Hamersely</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2QT6GoxYRdIMSiDp6XzjL61glAoTtfhY3vQvpQMn6fgp2wmaLn5F-6enO49DrBLWzfuMV2J5bd2KOYbA6bxrQe-36BndI334MRtmXNyHN9PCi75P9LdbW3vDAzMro57c_Exvji1P9XZo/s1600/SAM_2135.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2QT6GoxYRdIMSiDp6XzjL61glAoTtfhY3vQvpQMn6fgp2wmaLn5F-6enO49DrBLWzfuMV2J5bd2KOYbA6bxrQe-36BndI334MRtmXNyHN9PCi75P9LdbW3vDAzMro57c_Exvji1P9XZo/s640/SAM_2135.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The road to Hamersely</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">When we headed
back where we were actually planning to go (the road going east north of
Karijini), we saw big signs about Asbestos danger in the area. As the map said,
there were no roads to be seen that would go left, and our necks were already going
sore from staring to the same direction. But all of a sudden, we saw an
asbestos warning sigh in the middle of the bush, and that would only mean a
side road. Sure enough, we found a road(-ish kind of thing), more of a path for
cars. The track kept following by the side of the road along the hills until it
finally disappeared between the hills, getting more and more 4WD as we went on,
with big stones paving the road, indicating that water must be using the same
road from time to time to escape the gorge. There were trees and bushes, in
contrast to the low bush that had been surrounding our way at the main road and
we moved slower and slower due to the ’road’ getting worse and worse. Suddenly,
when we were already anxious to find out where the road leads to (and well...
we were getting further and further away from the actual road and from any
possibility of help in case of breaking down), we found a car and a an offroad
caravan camping. It turned out that they had a map with even the offroad tracks
on it and the track we were on, was leading to the southern part of Karijini.
So we followed the road for another couple of kilometres and decided to follow the
other exporers’ lead – why not camp in a beautiful place with all the privacy
and freedom to run around naked and do whatever we wanted. The hills in
Karijini are not made up from your usual reddish layers of Australian rock. I
found stones on the ground that were ranging from bright red to yellow, from
deep purple to ink blue and many many that were like nature-made paintings
smashing all these stones together with tectonic forces. (I collected some
stones and tried to make a Rainbow Serpent – the aboriginal mythical creature,
who lived in the Dreamtimes and is responsible for most of the significant
geographic landmarks of Australia. The serpent was often helped by a giant mythical
kangaroo which I did not attempt to recreate mostly due to the sun setting). We
also had a campfire and were sorry that we did not have any kangaroo tails with
us because this would have been the perfect place for cooking one for the first
time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">The next day we
got back on the main road and after some driving found ourselves near some
houses. We found ourselves in a seemingly deserted town with beat-up houses and
smashed up cars. When we saw a man walking around and mowing the grass(?), we
decided to take the small road north, despite the fact that in some of the maps
there wasn’t even a road. There were more asbestos signs (on one, the word ’asbestos’
had been changed into ’zombies’) as we followed the road, which was partly
quite good asphalt, partly had more holes than there was asphalt, partly rough
4WD track and sometimes had pieces of it carried away by floods. At the end of
the road, we found what seemed to had been another small town, except this one
did not have any houses left. There were small roads and stone steps and some
plants that did definitely not occur naturally in this area. On the road, we
found a side of the hill that was quite bluish-gray and it seemed that someone
had been mining it. We decided that they had had an asbestos mine and a quite
lovely place to live until someone discovered that asbestos was bad for you and
there were health risks, which is why everybody moved away. Later, after googling
the town, we found out that we had guessed right and that there were three
people still living in the first town (the one with houses). So after visiting
one more unmapped road to another gorge, which looked pretty much similar to
the last one, we decided to move on. It is funny how you become immune to
amazing things after a while. You can look in awe for hours and wonder how such
beautiful things can occur in the nature. But when you see too much of it, you
feel bored about things that you would previously have been so amazed of. The
season of wildflowers was still going on in Karijini so the colours of the bush
was constantly changing... luckily I did not grow tired of that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPUbysI04gcgthM1NL4vNl6pqegT99iz44RSxWtUCEiVlZMD1dsC6Kk-rypqmVZK0yGK6cxeuC19UgGpcIqzCFhIL9Cyrz0LyWcXyKl2OS3CMgtRICiSnxCzEvUrOpD88dxGIVbBGOCfk/s1600/fSAM_2142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPUbysI04gcgthM1NL4vNl6pqegT99iz44RSxWtUCEiVlZMD1dsC6Kk-rypqmVZK0yGK6cxeuC19UgGpcIqzCFhIL9Cyrz0LyWcXyKl2OS3CMgtRICiSnxCzEvUrOpD88dxGIVbBGOCfk/s640/fSAM_2142.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCC5C5Rv8J8YTQj6szPnev5xCEfMJIHEYz2XinpD_1FX-nFOnndYF6OIz9TytvdA9w-_9qu4cxjfO7IdNjZWg7_V8gs3juh1JNAh11hVVHCbi_EnboIS5fjBK2FkTIQMvKK0bgFQqT7Fk/s1600/fSAM_2165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCC5C5Rv8J8YTQj6szPnev5xCEfMJIHEYz2XinpD_1FX-nFOnndYF6OIz9TytvdA9w-_9qu4cxjfO7IdNjZWg7_V8gs3juh1JNAh11hVVHCbi_EnboIS5fjBK2FkTIQMvKK0bgFQqT7Fk/s640/fSAM_2165.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The rainbow serpent that I made</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWcz2523k_YN_3juRp1_A3OpTqpY1pGuScMeAsKXX8sfH-rbRNvQ0yN5dwWN-jsPCTvGuMQuEgFI-aCM6hF5vrKiu60FRDlwfMlTIZCBs2eh_wKkAKTEHCZB_Yfiyg8K5QkcEX69LVYpg/s1600/fSAM_2168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWcz2523k_YN_3juRp1_A3OpTqpY1pGuScMeAsKXX8sfH-rbRNvQ0yN5dwWN-jsPCTvGuMQuEgFI-aCM6hF5vrKiu60FRDlwfMlTIZCBs2eh_wKkAKTEHCZB_Yfiyg8K5QkcEX69LVYpg/s640/fSAM_2168.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Camping alongside the unmapped track</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo5FrCBSVDU4MA1QBLX6chc7Asv_2NJfAfwR-eam0aX_ESPkZzOd4VEWZ0c4CMY3l3RYSMEBwsLogqOBjsIYuxk-Zx5_vU5mxlk-oDkHGEQ07RvxKFt3uBk1xO4pX9p2-fYcgVHGbaDhA/s1600/fSAM_2178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo5FrCBSVDU4MA1QBLX6chc7Asv_2NJfAfwR-eam0aX_ESPkZzOd4VEWZ0c4CMY3l3RYSMEBwsLogqOBjsIYuxk-Zx5_vU5mxlk-oDkHGEQ07RvxKFt3uBk1xO4pX9p2-fYcgVHGbaDhA/s640/fSAM_2178.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Asbestos warning</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA-uCnfRBfRTEdKQsB_d6NCa8ON75PnmXPdAN557S6TF7Qa5y_CwmXQ3K2qrrh2U9NZ90E0RTb324CXwzTyp4sk9YpBW4bnswpYJhOlEaRLTpX1RYYGU91jjgVR2jXBTVW_vNCgNzRiNU/s1600/fSAM_2203.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA-uCnfRBfRTEdKQsB_d6NCa8ON75PnmXPdAN557S6TF7Qa5y_CwmXQ3K2qrrh2U9NZ90E0RTb324CXwzTyp4sk9YpBW4bnswpYJhOlEaRLTpX1RYYGU91jjgVR2jXBTVW_vNCgNzRiNU/s640/fSAM_2203.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Psychedelic rocks</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf8yMe6GPjGjoFZu-JN6llme8KPLK6hPPqEEW_BF339QAk6Ov0TfMSTR8mlhyphenhyphenJB7ICOoqTk7DJ8_smR38jnxYYR2KaRBKVGRuKO_hVBYsGly37AnXEDt2KL1Hl9YYCxfBB-iyx7GJ7U_g/s1600/fSAM_2216.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf8yMe6GPjGjoFZu-JN6llme8KPLK6hPPqEEW_BF339QAk6Ov0TfMSTR8mlhyphenhyphenJB7ICOoqTk7DJ8_smR38jnxYYR2KaRBKVGRuKO_hVBYsGly37AnXEDt2KL1Hl9YYCxfBB-iyx7GJ7U_g/s640/fSAM_2216.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wittenoom church (everything is like sheds in Australia :D)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgn_iD7DSyH7RRv1gvDNYGBRBA3ZynywfEcAt33vwi7gPiYM0ed09goyqNWMNUKkpnP5aX1tfYCa2jwdz2sz-Urt-n1_IzoSlVxqhe1lfg_V0hSTEtsWAcKXI8uK9rlw7ccQWJ8DGb0ng/s1600/fSAM_2220.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgn_iD7DSyH7RRv1gvDNYGBRBA3ZynywfEcAt33vwi7gPiYM0ed09goyqNWMNUKkpnP5aX1tfYCa2jwdz2sz-Urt-n1_IzoSlVxqhe1lfg_V0hSTEtsWAcKXI8uK9rlw7ccQWJ8DGb0ng/s640/fSAM_2220.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No more fuel</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiFApP0HVnIXmFgoy8ESnXtCKgExSKVWcTqyT35d480_tyD3KNlee4jFHEicl1lB_uRycEdLzq7ZZqgYY6qs5eJiALKI5nHY5VQ2Q5J329D0EdsgMJJ48jbnpNpbx0K9fAEc7gJ4z1-cU/s1600/fSAM_2224.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiFApP0HVnIXmFgoy8ESnXtCKgExSKVWcTqyT35d480_tyD3KNlee4jFHEicl1lB_uRycEdLzq7ZZqgYY6qs5eJiALKI5nHY5VQ2Q5J329D0EdsgMJJ48jbnpNpbx0K9fAEc7gJ4z1-cU/s640/fSAM_2224.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what happens when you don't wash your dishes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">After leaving
Karijini behind, we got to Auski tourist village, which is an overpriced place
(well... the prices are the same as in Onslow), like they all are, to get a few
more litres of petrol (we did have some more in the jerrycan, but not enough to
get us to Port Headland, which was the next reasonable town) and we were
recognised by a girl, who had also worked in Onslow but had left a month before
us. Australia IS a big place, but there are only so many places where you will
stop so I guess that we will see more of some people that we have already met.
So right now we are in a Caravan park in South Headland to wash ourselves and
our dishes (which have been ’bushwashed’ for the last couple of days), freeze
the bottles of water that kept our esky cool for the trip and do some job
searching. But we will probably head on to Broome because there seems to be
more vacant positions for the kind of jobs that we are searching for. Luckily
we have our AirCon working now, because tomorrow, the Great Sandy Desert awaits
us with even lower bush and higher temperatures.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWSKEkPpylXcOlyaYCTQ2JkQP2E33BLwrU2uo52JDqD55fvGyhnoVi-xvqP268o6fKmT0b0DqLwlkWkAhHhRVpP-dU29u76B-mFlMAxUFRAw5H18wP9mem2fKojOnrP2Fqg14regOx6Hk/s1600/SAM_2156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWSKEkPpylXcOlyaYCTQ2JkQP2E33BLwrU2uo52JDqD55fvGyhnoVi-xvqP268o6fKmT0b0DqLwlkWkAhHhRVpP-dU29u76B-mFlMAxUFRAw5H18wP9mem2fKojOnrP2Fqg14regOx6Hk/s640/SAM_2156.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making bonfire</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiki6bCz-B4e2yPPdebtEq7vh0BKbjXjrCd0pL48O2tqjvxPFBTv3cQMqmtMfgqg8__XQW7vDbd23cVISuoxG52AW3h8MM2OwZzoncIuwHAPPmyvuvj6kJao0aK7ZvwugdKiq-W8wMh0gs/s1600/SAM_2171.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiki6bCz-B4e2yPPdebtEq7vh0BKbjXjrCd0pL48O2tqjvxPFBTv3cQMqmtMfgqg8__XQW7vDbd23cVISuoxG52AW3h8MM2OwZzoncIuwHAPPmyvuvj6kJao0aK7ZvwugdKiq-W8wMh0gs/s640/SAM_2171.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wittenoom petrol station and restaurant</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTdm80UkKmFtRZ4PFIo2D7vDFxtFypRwApQ7RkfI5i9jpXXOu_UMI3Q3aPo5xOf5AvzKXnx_OJROHoWEMNTghiuDC79wJjOyuHt1y5MdTswt91P_EQ5pzGlrwGWD7oXzXjZjJiApBnFRE/s1600/SAM_2175.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTdm80UkKmFtRZ4PFIo2D7vDFxtFypRwApQ7RkfI5i9jpXXOu_UMI3Q3aPo5xOf5AvzKXnx_OJROHoWEMNTghiuDC79wJjOyuHt1y5MdTswt91P_EQ5pzGlrwGWD7oXzXjZjJiApBnFRE/s640/SAM_2175.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wittenoom vehicles</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHLHyrVgmqTzbybdOQf2FtWfN0W6LtU2A3HFX0r2e_MVeyyvgln0191EFeuexUshx2nTffzeVLtGOI4KsEKJzoeWnPrsQGScLxFI4rY8N30yUkFiA0Y0Y3tqJ9R8nNywHP_iRUcNjSn1E/s1600/SAM_2184.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHLHyrVgmqTzbybdOQf2FtWfN0W6LtU2A3HFX0r2e_MVeyyvgln0191EFeuexUshx2nTffzeVLtGOI4KsEKJzoeWnPrsQGScLxFI4rY8N30yUkFiA0Y0Y3tqJ9R8nNywHP_iRUcNjSn1E/s640/SAM_2184.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Near the end of wittenoom road</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRUvIVKPhRqZ9KGu8tbgwhi1iMkQkGRdncaIN_uM6C-ttQmrdgIPJ5tvpsciVfesX1uI3ssB-tFsxxcclmrg7Ur86GGEa8bMwedNPmi3uYtALJMZ9A7hKaP-dL-aoWoU-57C_OhmvueOQ/s1600/SAM_2191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRUvIVKPhRqZ9KGu8tbgwhi1iMkQkGRdncaIN_uM6C-ttQmrdgIPJ5tvpsciVfesX1uI3ssB-tFsxxcclmrg7Ur86GGEa8bMwedNPmi3uYtALJMZ9A7hKaP-dL-aoWoU-57C_OhmvueOQ/s640/SAM_2191.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Asbestos hills</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjspFzezQ42tgkNr3w52zhVf90Mqnk9-G_dtlCqIQaoBNm1oriJ8wAXbKiYDY2Q8WVgH3jxDShvGf4iazxINsMJTuW1rVDH4dju-EnmTfbB2b8hXDJqD97NRIjrPKp2EnucM-dCVPi8w9s/s1600/SAM_2195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjspFzezQ42tgkNr3w52zhVf90Mqnk9-G_dtlCqIQaoBNm1oriJ8wAXbKiYDY2Q8WVgH3jxDShvGf4iazxINsMJTuW1rVDH4dju-EnmTfbB2b8hXDJqD97NRIjrPKp2EnucM-dCVPi8w9s/s640/SAM_2195.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Did not want to climb higher (as I was not sure about getting down)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGc3ADHze6xBcsmSIbnVqwSe-mQn2t0c6RqPyA4O-0LotPQC3BT5XQUev9Dj3EkhdjDY6B_xWoeb7-aYZv62G7EslzQcXyYiJD9uAm5kKhMyYlTzzGKznbb9WTwOy5AF2GgOMzRnblu-g/s1600/SAM_2198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGc3ADHze6xBcsmSIbnVqwSe-mQn2t0c6RqPyA4O-0LotPQC3BT5XQUev9Dj3EkhdjDY6B_xWoeb7-aYZv62G7EslzQcXyYiJD9uAm5kKhMyYlTzzGKznbb9WTwOy5AF2GgOMzRnblu-g/s640/SAM_2198.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ZJEh4nCTKkZbJwhdbTKSk7eaZWzaEh1QOhh6ZzfEV6MBGE4B5NjyrcR1s0pM_Pp59oJ-1Z6pXr_RvdbRnPaFL5JvD5FAa0BFOoBz35ocdnvIN1lgDzvV1t9qTTHA0AAqrNdALxYHMIc/s1600/SAM_2200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ZJEh4nCTKkZbJwhdbTKSk7eaZWzaEh1QOhh6ZzfEV6MBGE4B5NjyrcR1s0pM_Pp59oJ-1Z6pXr_RvdbRnPaFL5JvD5FAa0BFOoBz35ocdnvIN1lgDzvV1t9qTTHA0AAqrNdALxYHMIc/s640/SAM_2200.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgai-cm6fe_zZNkGJeP2pYZB9yHyidskbbcM0gRLT6bA4E7An6nvBUEnTEbUy8OaSSegZ6klTZVNzcdV0rEnR7PJTJCSr0nfWy8loGWDwChgpIHq-cyEcGD5zHkMWRTGhUfRFjtzDCoOEs/s1600/SAM_2205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgai-cm6fe_zZNkGJeP2pYZB9yHyidskbbcM0gRLT6bA4E7An6nvBUEnTEbUy8OaSSegZ6klTZVNzcdV0rEnR7PJTJCSr0nfWy8loGWDwChgpIHq-cyEcGD5zHkMWRTGhUfRFjtzDCoOEs/s640/SAM_2205.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A truck on the road</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCzdE9SbNlgL5q-iuPeRcnK-9F88YjSHOhv9tCf51OxeRPzwNBvEx8OJERY4Rtz6RZ5WhYr_5anFzJ5vWDs41MCHpq1GuC-vCZE30AS5dUgnw8tN216JsykzHZeylJMiJjQm8lp6KJAn4/s1600/SAM_2219.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCzdE9SbNlgL5q-iuPeRcnK-9F88YjSHOhv9tCf51OxeRPzwNBvEx8OJERY4Rtz6RZ5WhYr_5anFzJ5vWDs41MCHpq1GuC-vCZE30AS5dUgnw8tN216JsykzHZeylJMiJjQm8lp6KJAn4/s640/SAM_2219.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wittenoom</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-38035247971746624992016-09-08T20:11:00.002-07:002016-09-08T20:11:28.288-07:00Enough of Onslow<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">So the time has
come to leave Onslow. All the mismanaging and psychopathic behaviour of the
managers finally drove us away (the job itself was not actually bad... if only
they would have different managers). As it has become a habit of mine, I had to
send a letter to the owners of the shop explaining the situation as well (I
have already written it but I will send it when we leave. I still have three
days of working there to go. And now the managers are actually sucking up to me
because they need someone to do the last three days since one girl is ill. It is a shame, because I still really like
Onslow. The first time that we went to sports club (a bar with free pool, darts
and other sporty games) we did not know anyone. The last time we walked in, 6-7
people raised their hands to welcome us... so we have made some new friends. So
why did we leave? The last drop was when...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">When we came to
work here, we were promised 35-50 hours a week. I got about 33 during the first
weeks, then 38, so I was quite OK. Erik got about 34 during the first weeks as
well. Then the French couple was fired (they gave their notice two weeks ahead,
they came to work on Sunday and they were told that it was their last day of
work because a new guy was starting on
Monday; a week later Sharon came and gave us all a story about how it
was because of the French guy’s knee injury because it is not very useful for
them I we start going without any notice; not even the supervisor knew anything
about that excuse or the reasons for the firing; and the knee injury had healed
by the time they were fired) and all of the Sundays (we get 2x salary then)
were given to the new local guy although he is really not very consistent or
good at his job. So all the hours were redistributed so that Erik got even less
hours. So he started taking an interest in how many hours anyone had got and
was trying to understand the logic of distributing the hours. Then we made the
mistake of mentioning Sam and Sharon that Erik’s birthday is coming up and we
tried to get the hours rearranged so that we would have some time to cook some
Estonian birthday food (potato salad and so on). Their response was that for a
week they made it a point to mention every single day that we will be fired if
we do anything to the house during our birthday party (there were less people
in total at that „party“ than we have had living in this house together and we
tried to explain it to them several times that it is not that kind of party...
it is a few people eating and talking) and we both got full days on the day of
the birthday and the day before that. Generally traditional Estonian birthdays
are about people eating a lot and drinking a lot of vodka. If you don’t have
time to prepare the food then you can only concentrate on the second part. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">After the „party“
they came for an inspection and they were the friendliest people that I have
ever seen, taking interest in our life (generally that does not happen... they
do not really want to have anything to do with you) and saying that the house
looks very nice and clean. And the next day back at work we were called in the
office and what we got was something like that (with a hissing and very threatening
tone): „You have been harassing people about their hours; you are breaching
your contract; you should be fired right now and asked to leave; you are not
allowed to discuss your hours with anyone; we thought that we were doing you a
favour by giving you more hours; you stole the new people’s roster from the
office; we have it all on the video; we could call the police“. Yes, we have
talked to other workers about our hours but I do not remember signing anything
that had me promise not to do it (and anyway, they kept the only copy of whatever
I signed. Both the contract and about the breaks that we are allowed to have –
which I think they have been breaching themselves because we do not get four
breaks when we work more than ten hours). Yes, thank you for giving us more
hours on that one week but clearly you gave them more to disrupt with our
birthday plans. And the point was not that we want more hours or less hours...
we wanted the hours to be more fair and distributed between us in a logical
way. Yes, both of us peeked at the roster that was in the office which was
probably not the right thing to do. But we were just curious about the new
names and wanted to know who they were replacing. If we had any normal
communication in the store we would not have had to do that anyway. (that is
actually taken out of my letter to the owner... I just added a few details and
took some out. I did not write to him about drinking vodka :D)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">But before I
leave this chapter behind me, I need to describe some of the people that come
in (because I actually meet every single person in the town) I know the names
of most of them but I will not mention them. And I would really love to add
some pictures, but they (especially the aboriginal people) would probably not
appreciate it much.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">One of the most
colorful people is an old (aboriginal) lady who often comes in and is looking
for her „keycard“ (bank card) because she is sure that she left it in the
store. She forgets things so she has systems to help her remember them. All her
bags have „ME“ written on them in red. She always wears a big hat that has the
pin number of her keycard written inside it. She wants to take our previous
supervisor (whose partner is a local cop) somewhere in the bush with guns and
then they are going to... „...you know what we will do with them guns“. She is
quite fun to talk to except sometimes when she pours all of her coins on the
counter to buy something but there are several people behind her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Then there is one
(aboriginal) couple who are always bare feet and wear the dirtiest clothes and
have the dirtiest faces and sometimes have the dirtiest little babies that I
have seen. The man (eyes usually red and half-shut) has blonde highlights in
his hair and is quite big. They sometimes come in with purchase orders and
sometimes I am counting their coins so that they can get some diapers or cigs.
And then other times they come in with hundreds of dollars and buy alcohol and
sweets and sodas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Then there is one
(aboriginal) lady who has real trouble getting out of the car even, she is so
big. At first she was also rude with me but after some time she is quite nice.
The problem with her is that I can smell her presence when she is already in front
of the shop. When she walks through an aisle in the shop, you can smell it a
couple of minutes after she has left. And sometimes she comes in and buys a lot
of things as well and stays near the checkouts. Then I always try to escape the
register for a couple of seconds at the time to get some oxygen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Then there is a
white old man who comes in and buys at least one bottle of the same white wine
each day. So he may come in in the morning to buy the wine and some vegetables
and then again in the afternoon for just a bottle of wine and then again in the
evening for another bottle of wine and a bread.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Then there are
the Wheatstone people (they are building a gas plant outside the town and there
are about 7000 people living and working there) who always have several separate
orders of food. So other people in Wheatstone have given them money or a card
and asked for some snacks and stuff (they get their food straight from their
suppliers and it is cooked for them there so they only get additional stuff
from the town) and the people who come to the store then have sometimes 6-10
different orders that they want to pay for separately and packed separately.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">And so on...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Anyways we are
leaving on Monday and will first probably go to Karratha (a actual bigger
town). They have actual normal grocery stores with much lower prices and some
choice plus shops for clothes and electronics and so on. After 7 weeks of not
seeing normal shops, I will probably want to buy all the food that they have
and everything else as well. But we will still find a job for a month or so
somewhere between here and Broome because after Broome we want to take the Gibb
River Road (660km of 4WD road with amazing natural sights) but we’ll see what
happens. First we will rest from the work for a few days and then we will see
what happens.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq7SSXLkptgMnisZShCuBkXnHKUjX-q8q3JEHhQ__7D51DG8CSsBrGu42psLmv5fi8CGMgF2PK5ks57TVfn45V6h9SK7ekSLWhUHc-YPjfEFMVBinE00hLdEshcHufO2Ef_Exj38pGMsg/s1600/SAM_1947.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq7SSXLkptgMnisZShCuBkXnHKUjX-q8q3JEHhQ__7D51DG8CSsBrGu42psLmv5fi8CGMgF2PK5ks57TVfn45V6h9SK7ekSLWhUHc-YPjfEFMVBinE00hLdEshcHufO2Ef_Exj38pGMsg/s640/SAM_1947.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our bedroom with my additions to the wall</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIYHgYVsedbh9LZOa2KR8I_cR1HvI9wl0wO_h5LUkeseI_epJrpV45wnVPnIOp_E-vkk1i6nMPttkg5q2P82O0oY6U3pGyvNH2npz1hdFIChsWiOf0nSDuAQC8QUw_jLoltXSpY2Ti1DA/s1600/SAM_1948.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIYHgYVsedbh9LZOa2KR8I_cR1HvI9wl0wO_h5LUkeseI_epJrpV45wnVPnIOp_E-vkk1i6nMPttkg5q2P82O0oY6U3pGyvNH2npz1hdFIChsWiOf0nSDuAQC8QUw_jLoltXSpY2Ti1DA/s640/SAM_1948.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our living room</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe-1q6LRwORLBdbsUnhrTd8QJM74R6PAIxPyXwBL4KydGSpFZDCVqOTd_vxTel-KtzSJkvShpMVRRm8Tn2rSkNdhDfmHklInNu6fQVfcS99vf15cdVZjpA7tHgOQY2aEB-THRe3wQSQuU/s1600/SAM_1949.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe-1q6LRwORLBdbsUnhrTd8QJM74R6PAIxPyXwBL4KydGSpFZDCVqOTd_vxTel-KtzSJkvShpMVRRm8Tn2rSkNdhDfmHklInNu6fQVfcS99vf15cdVZjpA7tHgOQY2aEB-THRe3wQSQuU/s640/SAM_1949.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A small room that we have adjacent to our bedroom and a local aussie guy visiting us</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiplLESNdAHyfk0g2uc83j7qemtMb-XBzjH4iMjbP2ZvTLnY-BSZe652bGbsAZRhl6oJfPvAjIeD8X45_EIO8hr9-oZzelHvhMgB4_SI7EhUTQC5AkecN8oboEX5HvyPR7_ju9SBsdgSNE/s1600/SAM_1960.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiplLESNdAHyfk0g2uc83j7qemtMb-XBzjH4iMjbP2ZvTLnY-BSZe652bGbsAZRhl6oJfPvAjIeD8X45_EIO8hr9-oZzelHvhMgB4_SI7EhUTQC5AkecN8oboEX5HvyPR7_ju9SBsdgSNE/s640/SAM_1960.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Also our house</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXlwrUttLWyiDmwIn5MLBwdIt7zClxSvO2y88ZEP0s7i9fhNliLIzK9Ji2xssO_zGE4baLhdTqAvaCXb2FkCt0GbMmBGhPECADO18iuQv8PvtyUkQ-fZGEYnT3GMCSj5z7K60jdIZmIDs/s1600/SAM_1967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXlwrUttLWyiDmwIn5MLBwdIt7zClxSvO2y88ZEP0s7i9fhNliLIzK9Ji2xssO_zGE4baLhdTqAvaCXb2FkCt0GbMmBGhPECADO18iuQv8PvtyUkQ-fZGEYnT3GMCSj5z7K60jdIZmIDs/s640/SAM_1967.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Onslow General Store</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifETn_IJw1zngsLEJ88vr8Esa42WlfXh9ncCUrYUysetMr4a-j5gUM6vjCb47WaseERlPGJTQh6MmOV8uNJHHIcTSfA3yYaQLMVBmaZid6rvrV5ZmcLkK-ynvh69v_NXzpcYhEhf19oI0/s1600/SAM_1968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifETn_IJw1zngsLEJ88vr8Esa42WlfXh9ncCUrYUysetMr4a-j5gUM6vjCb47WaseERlPGJTQh6MmOV8uNJHHIcTSfA3yYaQLMVBmaZid6rvrV5ZmcLkK-ynvh69v_NXzpcYhEhf19oI0/s640/SAM_1968.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The area for breaks</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFiZsyvAmuwhF2mYjr6_R_IC1P9mNM_hyphenhyphenmU-bGOA0mw7n0WJfZDBH8rZixvp-skwTf_jl53Ome2Q03lTiTDoF-ligF1er-VzMk2FKiGLU5QRXsjAXDkmAoC0GNyAdEZPBYjLjn3SFGhLg/s1600/SAM_1996.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFiZsyvAmuwhF2mYjr6_R_IC1P9mNM_hyphenhyphenmU-bGOA0mw7n0WJfZDBH8rZixvp-skwTf_jl53Ome2Q03lTiTDoF-ligF1er-VzMk2FKiGLU5QRXsjAXDkmAoC0GNyAdEZPBYjLjn3SFGhLg/s640/SAM_1996.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A saltlake</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0NUHDNuzwVekAaaIyURdmW6DHEYGbj1ut6Zk1WdiA_82xblMUt2MJIKJLqE3veLGipeJZYWhqGwschyphenhyphen30YekHw5LlCR1NaF_foYOhhF0XDjtlahYx5Pfkk3IUoOOqhDncLgxnhVZgk0E/s1600/SAM_2018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0NUHDNuzwVekAaaIyURdmW6DHEYGbj1ut6Zk1WdiA_82xblMUt2MJIKJLqE3veLGipeJZYWhqGwschyphenhyphen30YekHw5LlCR1NaF_foYOhhF0XDjtlahYx5Pfkk3IUoOOqhDncLgxnhVZgk0E/s640/SAM_2018.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Checking out the sunset near the salt jetty</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicA9Ov7CL7edVDsXta-zb0UwG31OnFLSuB8QE_NVYrF3AmC97Oe8BsW_Kc_f1Gzfnqa1s48bSpt00oIQ-JS2TkMyg3gAm2m72E1ynEVHUtyrYE3mDldJqohYffN9uIaBXTgdLP54xKaW0/s1600/SAM_2020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicA9Ov7CL7edVDsXta-zb0UwG31OnFLSuB8QE_NVYrF3AmC97Oe8BsW_Kc_f1Gzfnqa1s48bSpt00oIQ-JS2TkMyg3gAm2m72E1ynEVHUtyrYE3mDldJqohYffN9uIaBXTgdLP54xKaW0/s640/SAM_2020.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Onslow salt jetty</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-59520373637507830202016-08-29T00:39:00.003-07:002016-08-29T05:40:31.160-07:00The world's greatest supermarket<div class="MsoNormal">
About life in
OnSlow and working in the world’s greatest supermarket<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">I already
explained that Onslow is far from everywhere else. In addition, there is not
that much to see and explore on our days of (one day per week) around here
either. Or so you’d think. Onslow didn’t always used to be where it is now. It
was first built by the mouth of Ashburton river (about 20 km from the current
location) but for several reasons, including the fact that cyclones and storms
kept destroying it, it was moved. So the old town site is one of the main
attractions around here. Basically it is a network of gravel roads (or gravel
paths) in the middle of very low bush (like the rest of the 100km radius around
here) with little notice boards beside the roads where you can read „This is
the place where that and that building was, this and this person built it and
later it was taken there and there“. So there are no actual buildings left and
the current Onslow does not have them right now either. Some material was used
in other buildings, some were (partially) restored somewhere else. But after
long driving and reading the unbelievable information about the buildings (and
seeing literally nothing) there are still 1,5 buildings left. But there is a nice picnic area on the way to
Old Onslow that actually has shade (there usually are some trees around
rivers), so we spent most of our trip out of town there and going to Old Onslow
was worth it despite the lack of things to see as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Everyone kept
telling us how this is the best time to see wildflowers. Generally about 7-9
months a year the northern part of of western Australia is dominated by sand
and yellow and brown remnants of plants. But during the winter, it turns green
for some months and at the end of winter, out of nowhere, fields of colorful
flowers appear. All thi is very great, but as we found out if the visitors
centre, the most amazing ones are mostly south from here or even more north.
So with only one day off, there wasn’t really a big chance for us to see them.
But we did go out of down to a gravel road (4wd access only) that went through
an area that was painted brown on the map, which indicates aboriginal lands. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">We did see some
small wild flowers as well (patches of yellow, purple and white) but we found
some much more interesting things. As soon as we turned onto that road, a big
4WD came, passed us, stopped, reversed, stopped right next to us and the people
in the car (aboriginals of course, two very ghetto-looking young guys in the
front, a young thin woman and a not-at-all-so-thin and not-very friendly-looking
older lady in the back, and a very big fella at the very back) wanted to know
where we were going and advised us not to get lost. After just a few hundred
metres we found an abandoned car by the road that was beaten up pretty bad
(probably just for fun) and went to see if we could get anything useful out of
it. we got one speaker but nothing else because we had left our tools at home. (we returned later for the radio and other speakers... luckily noone had burned before that) In the next two
minutes we saw two of three more abandoned cars, but they were already old and
burnt. In total, we found about 6 cars in the 30km that we drove on that road. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxfD1gzowc3rkiW65pjooggg_bqrDqVlgchoMFyDgNy3hPOVRhn-HfW0YFOGS5xtmGDC9H58AKzUZyVQWasxEjL45GByzknireUeqvFczeDzTZeh67zVD6m8lNWdfZV_TPbd67vc4hDQE/s1600/SAM_1856.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxfD1gzowc3rkiW65pjooggg_bqrDqVlgchoMFyDgNy3hPOVRhn-HfW0YFOGS5xtmGDC9H58AKzUZyVQWasxEjL45GByzknireUeqvFczeDzTZeh67zVD6m8lNWdfZV_TPbd67vc4hDQE/s640/SAM_1856.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The newest of the abandoned cars</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">After about 25km
we saw some tyres lying around on the field, and well... because we can drive
anywhere then we had to go and see. And what we discovered was not only a field
of tyres, it was field after field after field after field. And it was not
(just) a dumping point. Someone has clearly arranged the tyres – in most places
the distance between any two tyres was 2,5-7 metres, so someone had
intentionally been spreading them in seemingly random way, but definitely
spreading them, because they were not in piles or anything. Some where also
noxt to each other in a row, but that was the minority. So after drifting a bit
between the tyres we thought about going back but decided to go on for a couple
of more minutes. Suddenly there were trees and even a river appeared, with the
sign „Kane river“. Well... it was a river in the rainy periods, right now there
were just little ponds of water where the river usually was. After crossing the
river we saw a bush camp by the road. There were some sheds and shades built
from random pieces of metal and wood. When I saw the ’village’, I suddenly
remembered that I had seen the name „Kane river“ before numerous times and t
was one of the abo communities that sometimes came shopping in town and I often
had seen their name on the list of accounts (will explain about it probably).
The indigenous people around here are not particularly happy about being taken
pictures of so we did not go close or take any. But we did decide to drive up
the river a bit and saw some shades built by the riven that we caught on camera
because we were filming the driving. (by the way we will put together some
videos as well some day, because we have a lot of material... the first one is
almost ready). We also climbed a small hill on the way (of course with the car)
and saw fields on termites nests that were mostly higher/taller than a grown up
person is. The termites’ nests have actually been dominating the landscape ever
since we came north from Carnarvon. The other people that we live with with
were slightly surprised that we found things to see that they had not even
heard about (talking more about the tyre-fields and bush-towns than the
termites nests).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ocEKy9pcxyNLzW-LgK41jLvPziHnmqvuyzEFTJjVmBeFH8M1l9Y5Ja1NHSwUNYe2zeSg2Axk5KIbrJmczY5zL74fPd8yZsGL62CzJw7ghYPu_QJiRUhPUCIv7RkoiPqLNdJ_3O0W5xE/s1600/SAM_1731.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4ocEKy9pcxyNLzW-LgK41jLvPziHnmqvuyzEFTJjVmBeFH8M1l9Y5Ja1NHSwUNYe2zeSg2Axk5KIbrJmczY5zL74fPd8yZsGL62CzJw7ghYPu_QJiRUhPUCIv7RkoiPqLNdJ_3O0W5xE/s640/SAM_1731.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Causeway over Ashburton</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPevzgs1aGmBDjMtwD2jqb1LIjcOIp-S5Kh5U0k98sT6ophSgILAboqbGMv0s430ZCHAYcDDZVDZw03_7xdbALAvOPSfrZDJaAS1JuIpf4_3PPgyYrgt8KJvHmES0-o7_47lwcYdVx97U/s1600/SAM_1867.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPevzgs1aGmBDjMtwD2jqb1LIjcOIp-S5Kh5U0k98sT6ophSgILAboqbGMv0s430ZCHAYcDDZVDZw03_7xdbALAvOPSfrZDJaAS1JuIpf4_3PPgyYrgt8KJvHmES0-o7_47lwcYdVx97U/s640/SAM_1867.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the middle of tyre fields</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLd_HAamtWqRCwE2ej39pE6oAN5Go9Pf6ZOsQVqsbhNAcVwGjxuBZC9F9rkdIDpamdwAjYIu9ye44uYPq0uH_sgcbNxv6DqvJjonsHa3i4TjR7eI_8g8vxi-B1hkuAgUBsKK4_JVdqak/s1600/SAM_1885.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifLd_HAamtWqRCwE2ej39pE6oAN5Go9Pf6ZOsQVqsbhNAcVwGjxuBZC9F9rkdIDpamdwAjYIu9ye44uYPq0uH_sgcbNxv6DqvJjonsHa3i4TjR7eI_8g8vxi-B1hkuAgUBsKK4_JVdqak/s640/SAM_1885.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stubby holders are a must here</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihrJ6MLpj_WNAoyfVX9hTLdZFVtGa4CVHmfVmFhyl6q1VJy0RZhGbqKnxU9MKK4v0yhepjviHBdCRsa5pTLCIH0lwBRDZejSujwNypmw9YHyQq8rafoha-C_h2QuEvgEKazEJsNfdFFVc/s1600/SAM_1901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihrJ6MLpj_WNAoyfVX9hTLdZFVtGa4CVHmfVmFhyl6q1VJy0RZhGbqKnxU9MKK4v0yhepjviHBdCRsa5pTLCIH0lwBRDZejSujwNypmw9YHyQq8rafoha-C_h2QuEvgEKazEJsNfdFFVc/s640/SAM_1901.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cane river</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzf0V6GfZQV38-hz2om3gyLexp454ydTSMu9zqIC5C7sUALYH-FlIGShRpJNlNB52-a9kDcOCT9IIkfAGZGP-XDW15soCwNU2IMgiYOHpmFpqWh0dUXbuEu_xq6EiIcwDqiI62szmW0A8/s1600/SAM_1907.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzf0V6GfZQV38-hz2om3gyLexp454ydTSMu9zqIC5C7sUALYH-FlIGShRpJNlNB52-a9kDcOCT9IIkfAGZGP-XDW15soCwNU2IMgiYOHpmFpqWh0dUXbuEu_xq6EiIcwDqiI62szmW0A8/s640/SAM_1907.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Just another one...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWp7PTMyGuqy0EevMERiOiw9czWPK402fXw69YwNlzuuPCdgwMuXddFsytMlPsiI5cKJulngnyvoPbg7IUaXopkOOngglTt__w6tSxu86Y3h4EkJBjS0rKKare5wHRnveYdOFnb7MWTdw/s1600/SAM_1912.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWp7PTMyGuqy0EevMERiOiw9czWPK402fXw69YwNlzuuPCdgwMuXddFsytMlPsiI5cKJulngnyvoPbg7IUaXopkOOngglTt__w6tSxu86Y3h4EkJBjS0rKKare5wHRnveYdOFnb7MWTdw/s640/SAM_1912.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The home of termites</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Anyway... since
we do spend most of our time in the fabulous general store, then some typical
moments about that. Everything I write about is about the specific people who
go to our store. So when I say ’the caravan people’ or ’the aboriginals’ or
’the miners’ etc. then I don’t mean all of them but I mean some of the specific
ones that come to our store. but these are some of the most outstanding pople
from the general population. So I hope that they don’t take it personally. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Every Wednesday
afternoon and Sunday morning is delivery day. That means that all the people
work on that days because we have truckloads of stuff and practically no storage
space whatsoever. That means that all the aisles are full of boxes and ladders
and people running around. Plus we have more customers on these days as well
because well.. you know... it is delivery days and all the things that we ran
out of, will be in stock again. Or at least that is what they hope. Actually I
don’t know how this works but someone keeps ordering random things that we
don’t need and keeps not ordering more of the things that are actually popular.
So for example some breads run out the first day while there are huge piles of
other things. The same is with cigarettes - since I’m in the registers then I
have very close contact with that part of the store. A client comes in „Could I
have a pack of winny blue 30s?“ „Sorry, we’re all out“. „What about Winny gold
30s?“ „Sorry, no 30s. But we have one pack of 20s left“ „Naah... what about PJ
gold 30s?“. „Only have PJ red 30s“. „I’ll have the PJ blue 30s then“ (the
number indicates the cigarettes in one pack, it can be anything between 20 to
50 cigarettes... at least in our store)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">And then there
are of course those, who make the whole situation even harder by forgetting or
not understanding things: „Can I have a pack of PJ gold?“ „Sorry no PJ gold or
PJ blue“ „I’ll have a pack of PJ blue then“ „We are out of both PJ and Winfield
blue“ „I’ll have a Winfield 20s then“ „No winfield blue“ „A pack of Winnie 25s
then „ „No Winfiled blue in any size“ „Give me a PJ gold then“... and so on<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">In Australia,
people do not pack their bags themselves. It is the job of the person in the
checkout to pack the bags while the person is waiting and watching. The bags
can not carry a lot of weight and break quite easily (a bit bigger and about
the same strength, if sometimes not weaker, as the bags that you put your fruit
and veg in in Estonia) so I pack A LOT of bags in a day. Some people do not care
a all: „Just put the 2l milk on my cookies, no worries“. Some people are very
specific about how they want their things packed and they constantly keep
correcting you when you put something in „the wrong bag“. You can usually
recognize there people and then it is a matter of secretly learning to read
people's faces. So I take a juice, put it in a bag. Then I take the sugar and
start putting it in the same bag, if the eyebrows start to frown, I quickly get
a new beg and pretend that I was always going to put the thing there. One time
I put a small box of strawberries (6 strawberries in a box for 5 dollars) on a
bag of chips. And the lady got very angry at me because I was ’crushing the
chips’. When I told that to Erik, he started laughing at it, because he sees
how things are handled before they ever get to that lady’s bag where the
strawberries may break them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">A lot of people
have accounts in our store. They are mostly some workers that buy under the
account of a company or they are representatives of the abo communities. When
the workers come in they unload two-three trolley-fulls of stuff on the counter
(they have about 30x30cm of space for the stuff on the counter because our
wonderful managers keep piling boxes of different sweets on the counters which
I keep graciously knocking down every day) and spend thousands of dollars. And
I pack all the tings in about 20 different bags.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Since we are in a
town that has a lot of indigenous people in and around it, I can’t leave them
out either. There are some that are really quite nice (apart form the smell...
they are used to living in very different conditions than we are... and I think
that they either can’t smell themselves or do not care... but either way the
showers and them really are not the best of friends) and who I actually get
along with and chat. And then there are those who really don’t want to get
along with you. For example for a lot of the caravan people or others as well,
it happens that they already start paying, they remember something that they
forget, they apologize at least a few times and then they either tell me to
stop scanning their things or say that „I just forgot the milk, I’ll be back in
30 seconds“. Anyways they kind of feel bad about it and they let me know, how
long they’ll take.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">And then there
are those indigenous people, who want to make you feel like you are the worst
worker in the world. They look at you in an angry way and keep tapping
something on the counter nervously while you are serving the previous customer.
(I’d always like to ask „I will come and see how fast or good you are at your
job... if you didn’t just get money from the government“). And then when it is
their turn, they start counting the little 20 cent sweets, that have been in
front of them on the counter the whole time that they were ’In a great hurry’
and calculating (not actually calculating but having me calculate) how many
they will get for a certain amount. Or they will go and bring some more soft
drinks and have me wait for them again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">A lot of the indigenous
kids don’t go to school either. So there is a law around here that we can’t
serve any school-aged kids during school hours (unless they have a card that
proves that they are just on recess and are actually going to school). So the
local kids generally can’t read or calculate or, it seems to me, can’t realize
the concept of money at all. So I have little angry kids yelling at me every
once in a while promising that ’their mother will come and bash me up’... which
of course has never happened. I haven’t even met an angry parent yet. When it’s
not school hours the kids are not supposed to come in in groups, only one by
one... but that is something that the managers can do themselves if they really
care about that. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">At work we are
not supposed to ’stand around and do nothing’. Stopping for 10 seconds and
thinking about something counts as doing nothing, so we constantly have to be
in action. Our wonderful managers Sharon and Sam are looking at us from the
security cameras even when they have a day off or are at home. So generally we
either fill up the cigarette cabinet, clean around the checkouts, check the
trolleys and bring them back from the parking lot or organize things of do
something similar. And then there are days when all the cigarettes are filled,
everything is clean and there are no people in the store. When that happens we
just go around and try to look busy (very often actually doing random things)
once I asked my workmates how their afternoon had been and one of them said „We
have just been going around and touching things for hours“. It is usually not
that slow though. There are days when all the trolleys are randomly around the
centre of Onslow because noone has time for that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">But yeah... I am
more and more surprised every day how much junk people consume. It is no
problem for a person (both indigenous and white) to spend hundreds of dollars
on sweets and colorful drinks. And they don’t mind that the 0,2l coke is almost
the same price as the 2l one... they like the small ones.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">I know that it may
seem from my post, that I do not like Australia or Onslow etc. That is actually
not the case at all. Onslow is the friendliest place where I have ever been to.
The people all know each other and get along. I have had long conversations
with some of the indigenous people and get along with most of them quite well.
There is a community garden with a large wood-heated pizza oven which is free
to use; there are free workouts of football, basketball etc every week and so
on. I once saw a freestyle rap battle in the sports club (a bar in the midde
of the sports facilities) between a somewhat crazy aboriginal lady and a
white-haired old rich looking white lady. So Onslow really is a nice (and quite
interesting, considering the size) place. It is just a very different experience
to live in a place like this with people like this. And Australia as well...
apart from their food culture and their Aussie slang, that is often difficult
to follow, it is definitely a place worth visiting... why else did we come back
here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-45813622451009617752016-08-16T19:51:00.000-07:002016-08-16T19:51:35.252-07:00Life On-Slow-Mo<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Our caravan-park
life only lasted for a week. But it was nice – we already got to know our
neighbours (for example we had a very cool old guy with his dog living in an
old bus re-built for living. The bus even had ’an office’ and a built-in
washing machine in the side of the bus. the guy had been building mufflers for
motorbikes all his life. At the moment he was building a muffler for another
bus – a lady was living in a bus with a pink stripe with „attitude“ written on
it) and the workers an so on. But it was a bit tiring to live in a tent (sand,
grass, morning dew, passing cars, people watching tv with a very loud voice
etc...) plus only one of us had a job. Moreover I found out if I have work or
not the same morning. So two times I woke up at seven, showered (hot water,
cold water, hot water, cold water, cold water, cold water, cold water), ate
breakfast and made my lunch only to find out that there was no work that day. And
even on the days that I was working, it was often only 4-5 hours.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">So now we are living
in Onslow and both working at the Onslow General store. I am mostly in the
checkout registers and Erik is carrying boxes and doing other stuff. The job
seems reasonable enough and the money is quite good so we will probably stay
for at least two months because right now we’re running out of money (buying a
car and everything needed for travelling in Australia plus actually travelling
around Australia has taken its toll). Onslow is a town of about 700 people. The
closest actual town is Karratha in 321km. The main highway (North West Coastal
Highway is 80km away) The next closest thing is a roadhouse, a few hundred
kilometres away but well... it’s a roadhouse, not even a village (fuel,
20-dollar burgers, accommodation and a small shop). The weather is warmer than
in the south and there are crocodile warnings everywhere (because seven years
ago someone saw a crocodile here once. They are not really something that you
expect to see here). Onslow has one grocery store, a pub, a restaurant, a
library, a hardware store and a post office. In the shop you can buy frozen
kangaroo tails, for example (with hair and everything) but everything sold is
very expensive, especially anything fresh. The town is on aboriginal lands and
there are a lot of them is and around the city as well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">About a hundred
years ago it was still legal to hunt and kill aboriginals so the relationship
between the government and the white locals and aboriginals is a bit
complicated. Basically they are given houses and money to live on (rent for
using their land, paying out of guilt because of how they were treated...) and
they just do that. The problem is that they are not used to some of the things
that we have. Europeans have a long history of consuming alcohol and their own
traditions that go with it plus all the modern stuff, like junk food has come
into our lives step by step and we know that it is bad for us. Aboriginals
can’t really handle alcohol well and they just LOVE junk food. Especially
anything that is red (litres and litres of soda, any any kind of sweets) and
they don’t care much about vegetables, the main (olmost only) food that they
buy is meat (why waste money on grass, if ou have onough to eat meat, right?).
So right now there is a bit of a dilemma – the food and drinks of white people
are not doing much good for aboriginals but since they are considered to be
equal to everyone else now, they can’t be denied anything anymore either. I’m
sure that it’s even more complicated as that, but right now that’s how I have
observed it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">So we are living
together with other backpackers who work in the store (one German, two English,
one Scottish, one Italiano and two French, who are leaving today). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Anyways, there
probably won’t be much happening in the next few months but I will take some time
one day to get into some things that are different or strange in Australia (for
example, everywhere else in the world, they have ’speed bumps’ but downunder
they have ’speed humps’) and maybe soon I can get my internet to work enough to
upload a few more pictures (either here or to facebook)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-78711168633092436102016-07-20T18:00:00.002-07:002016-07-21T00:57:46.528-07:00Arriving and first weeks<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Finally I have
some time to write about how we have been so far (there has been either no
power or no time). I decided to switch to English because then I am not
discriminating any people who do not speak Estonian (and hopefully all
Estonians understand English).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">So to start off
we had quite a short flight to Istanbul followed by a 20-hour wait in Istanbul
airport. For anyone who will use Turkish airlines in the future to fly through
Istanbul, there is a great opportunity (if you have enough time in Istanbul and
both your flights to and from Istanbul are with Turkish airlines): You can
either get a free night at a hotel (transportation to and from hotel included)
or you can get a tour of Istanbul with meals included. Since Istanbul airport
had pretty good opportunities for sleeping (read: no armrests between seats in
waiting areas) then we decided to take the second option. We almost didn’t make
it due to the long wait in passport control. And I basically had a panic attack
when there was an old unattended suitcase waiting just where there was the
largest concentration of people – anyone who has ever been in an airport knows
the waiting lines where you just zigzag in one place in order to get somewhere.
Istanbul suicide bombers had just attacked the airport three days before we
were there so that probably triggered my panic attack even more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Well, luckily the
staff that organized the tour still took us although we were 15 minutes too
late. A little bit about the tour itself: There were armored trucks everywhere
around the city, the concentration of them being especially high around the
airport and soldiers and police with machine guns were also everywhere around
the cars. The tour itself included the Blue mosque (an amazing place, the
interior is entirely made of small tiles. Women had to have their head, arms,
feet etc covered and were not allowed to wear any tight pants. The men were
also forbidden to wear shorts), Hagia Sophia (a temple that has been both a
mosque and a church so it is a wonderful mix of both symbolics and even some
inscriptions from Vikings, although noone knows how it got there) and the
hippodrome. The meals were all wonderful, the lunch including four (!!) courses
which I was unable to finish.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6axnvFQHYJGxghbou5oim-thImcqIW_W3qoD59DMBdBNN3gnAcDwuwMwOnxE3NQWovpxGSpt4bFyYATP9XdZdGxDR8H4hXujv04_F2ZyzHtTqFleqkn6W3tyVpfSLFuojy8cMq3gKMRs/s1600/MSAM_0600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6axnvFQHYJGxghbou5oim-thImcqIW_W3qoD59DMBdBNN3gnAcDwuwMwOnxE3NQWovpxGSpt4bFyYATP9XdZdGxDR8H4hXujv04_F2ZyzHtTqFleqkn6W3tyVpfSLFuojy8cMq3gKMRs/s640/MSAM_0600.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The shortest guide in Istanbul (his words, not mine)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv3veCYOeCOAQuvQY5asqrDYHTZXqMyvf9yd2DtXquVw-FlN0JI2rRbybhBtQCOEWG9PCmjeW75NaB_WJEWhGcBTO_iWVMln5XgL9cvseEADh-egQlbfjsdJVcXRg80HJmh7tYu3chiC8/s1600/MSAM_0612.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv3veCYOeCOAQuvQY5asqrDYHTZXqMyvf9yd2DtXquVw-FlN0JI2rRbybhBtQCOEWG9PCmjeW75NaB_WJEWhGcBTO_iWVMln5XgL9cvseEADh-egQlbfjsdJVcXRg80HJmh7tYu3chiC8/s640/MSAM_0612.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The local Muslim couple </div>
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The restrictions for getting into the Blue Mosque</div>
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The tiled ceiling of the mosque</div>
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An example of the security measures in Istanbul</div>
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<span lang="ET">We then had a
six-hour flight in Kuala Lumpur, an eight-hour wait there (by that time the
local food, the free beverages and on the hindsight the water of emajõgi had
caused me to feel like food wanted to come out of me more than it wanted to go
in. That feeling continued for three-four days). In the evening we had another
six-hour flight to Perth (arrived at 1am on Tuesdays and we finally made it to
our new home for a couple of days – the house of a friend of a friend in Freo.
We even got our own personal house (a caravan) and very friendly hosts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="ET">The next day we
went to see two cars. The first one was from a car yard and it was horrible.
When we asked the oversized salesman with an oversized ego if he had any other
four wheel drives for 3000 or less he just laughed at us. We could still hear
him laughing as we walked away. That discouraged us a bit. But just until the
second car. We had an hour-long test drive (it was the rush hour so we spent
most of our time waiting at the traffic lights. The Swedish guy who was selling
us the car even called us to check if we were planning on stealing his car) and
bought it. So less than 24 hours after arriving in Oz we already had a car and
half of the equipment that we needed, as it came with the car. In addition to
having a full foldable sleeping area built in (with mattress and everything) we
also had dishes, tools for repairing the car, chairs, fins, fishing equipment
etc) and we even got 600 dollars discount for buying the car so fast (so we
spent 2000 in the end plus a new spare tire and a couple of small repair
works). During the same day we also got our phone numbers (mine is
+61498474079), bank accounts etc.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="ET">From Thursday to
Monday we had a little trip south to visit our friend Ahti and have the first
longer test-run to the car. It all worked out until, after a few hours of
driving and after Erik had wondered if our car is rainproof (our last
Australian car Buf was not, as we discovered after 6 months of having him. He
refused to be driven in the rain. Something in the wiring and battery
probably), it started to rain of course. Aaand... the engine worked fine. But
at first it started tripping water into Erik’s lap. As soon as I had stopped
laughing at him, of course the same happened to my side as well. And as we
discovered at night, when we were sleeping in our „brand new“ (25 years old)
car illegally somewhere near the coast, the back window was leaking as well. As
it was raining quite heavily (there was a temporary river flowing under our
car) then we decided to ignore the wet feet. Also, on the third day of our trip
we also saw kangaroos already.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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You have to climb into the engine to fix it</div>
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At first everything is new and exciting</div>
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Went to florida... passed Miami, Rome and Paris. You can also find places like Denmark and so on here.</div>
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When we first discovered the problem with rain</div>
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Our bed</div>
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A regular camp toilet with rainwater reservoir. And a Blackboy - these trees grow only 1mm every year.</div>
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Typical shed life (at Ahti's)</div>
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In the south there are a lot of plantations for different fruits</div>
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<span lang="ET">Everything has
happened vary fast so far as on the fourth day of the trip we already spent our
first night in a shed (classical, thin metal sheet walls, concrete floor
etc) when we reached Ahti’s place near
Donnybrook. After a short or long seeing-again party and a difficult morning we
headed south. I have to mention that in
Australia the time moves differently, as it is winter and it gets dark at six
o’clock an it is 10 degrees or less outside, people go to sleep early as
well... with that said Estonians still exist and stay up late in minus ten or
less. But it is a different climate and we also seem to adapt to the local
ways.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="ET">The most
memorable moment of the day was, for sure, climbing the Bicentennical tree. It
was a 65 feet tall Karri tree that had long pegs going up spirally around the
tree. The step between two pegs was almost half a metre and there was a safety
net on the side.... but nothing under or above you. It had been raining for the
last few days so the pegs were also a bit slippery. So with a sick feeling and
beating heart, we started to climb up. And when you know that there is a long
way to fall you tend to cramp up as well. But after the seemingly never-ending
climb we finally reached the top. And it was so worth it! It was one of the
tallest trees around, so you had a good view all around you. Almost so good,
that you forgot for a moment that this dreadful trip had to be done again...
this time backwards. And this time I HAD to look down to find the next peg
(climbing up, I wasn’t brave enough to do that). The next two days we were all walking like retards (pardon my french) and moaning and sighing all the time (super sore muscles everywhere)</span><br />
<span lang="ET"><br /></span>
<span lang="ET">We actually visited some more
places, including a huge rock (Mount something), salmon beach and so on, which
were all amazing... but very difficult to put into words. So after another
illegal camping we started heading back north again. We tried our first 4WD
track (didn’t even have to switch on the 4WD as the wheels are quite big) and
took Ahti to his first large cave (Piusa was the biggest he had seen so far)
the Mammoth cave. Travelling with Ahti
was fun because he was just as bad (or worse) as I am at giving directions but
in the end we got everywhere we wanted to go.</span></div>
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There was a village with very friendly (wild) kangaroos living among people</div>
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That's them chilling in front of someone's house</div>
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The view from the Karri tree (you really can't see the height from here but we have just climbed 65 metres)</div>
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The view down while climbing (I was quite low while taking the picture - I was too afraid to let one hand go when I was higher)</div>
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Climbing up (a staged photo after getting down. I was not that cheerful while first climbing up)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZmW4XTRUdEvHrLZLyWrCk9CZwXDmdfYsU38hIK6d09_uPrmLFpb4cwZwDYHbEGo3AUxhqC0ndjXRNG1QwN_Rq7zsMgmQgUTloZfDDjE-gHaLOOSuwIZDCK9XbjuyNL-7pCdfqwPnH4M/s1600/MSAM_0920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZmW4XTRUdEvHrLZLyWrCk9CZwXDmdfYsU38hIK6d09_uPrmLFpb4cwZwDYHbEGo3AUxhqC0ndjXRNG1QwN_Rq7zsMgmQgUTloZfDDjE-gHaLOOSuwIZDCK9XbjuyNL-7pCdfqwPnH4M/s640/MSAM_0920.JPG" width="478" /></a></div>
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On a big rock</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsc7j_jx_XU58fJfG3OJ16bMGnESey8zzAnHrOFHP-p4XlsmTENKaj0PLxpu0fDQ79h9A83FYAAzhdISoaacLGgtF8oZEYrTuVELLLJA4n1wuGhoj3hsGY6wbODx0P5Ane7nPFRlI1BJ0/s1600/MSAM_0967.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsc7j_jx_XU58fJfG3OJ16bMGnESey8zzAnHrOFHP-p4XlsmTENKaj0PLxpu0fDQ79h9A83FYAAzhdISoaacLGgtF8oZEYrTuVELLLJA4n1wuGhoj3hsGY6wbODx0P5Ane7nPFRlI1BJ0/s640/MSAM_0967.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Salmon beach (again staged photo)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBbXSdK2cVh9WvdybE1t7V37FcGz9NPugAJ54d2yIuHCtuKmfx-pWddfriyVTQZDn8NnJlQrVVgLWCW5rucEgkBmNAh7eIHY8FxsrX3mFt21anGHAevzz2ddErRqcGzW4JI-U3CytRPPg/s1600/MSAM_0977.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBbXSdK2cVh9WvdybE1t7V37FcGz9NPugAJ54d2yIuHCtuKmfx-pWddfriyVTQZDn8NnJlQrVVgLWCW5rucEgkBmNAh7eIHY8FxsrX3mFt21anGHAevzz2ddErRqcGzW4JI-U3CytRPPg/s640/MSAM_0977.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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The Estonian ghettos at Salmon beach</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTXozEHeKiPQRrPL2b4vDY6ZoxfFVTldc-leQV9m79PJ1QFPtmaEQV4yqNZD_WZkWSmvvUu9tssrX9i_RrVihrPEJMI_gnDk0cw5sChTbPDLwJcL4A2k4NyKJogDEKZyHZgFPby0XgQRk/s1600/MSAM_1018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTXozEHeKiPQRrPL2b4vDY6ZoxfFVTldc-leQV9m79PJ1QFPtmaEQV4yqNZD_WZkWSmvvUu9tssrX9i_RrVihrPEJMI_gnDk0cw5sChTbPDLwJcL4A2k4NyKJogDEKZyHZgFPby0XgQRk/s640/MSAM_1018.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Illegal camping - but it was raining a windy so we still decided to camp illegally</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhleGXM0dtHZ2CzYq23l78BUDYzjqo1NW_Cp8KqxK3TPMWo2LOY2L-ZMAFzUI357JVMcWBakmx5-WqYBa1FJasZQSANlZO0Z-LbDC_VkcWSyYBo2FPUAdeFyePIS_oAz4fQLDpIpq0BxDA/s1600/MSAM_1060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhleGXM0dtHZ2CzYq23l78BUDYzjqo1NW_Cp8KqxK3TPMWo2LOY2L-ZMAFzUI357JVMcWBakmx5-WqYBa1FJasZQSANlZO0Z-LbDC_VkcWSyYBo2FPUAdeFyePIS_oAz4fQLDpIpq0BxDA/s640/MSAM_1060.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Estonian mob</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWSB-dylp6PPsvNIuVBmEIE8jXa1hK3zdMusQAALWIWIYPcvsUcQew0lNZ5dbAUiK5rkNWuP__p4WodkyK4CTVMxDLwC8bgD6D41nZiKCLpAfUdfuIH-LmJ6NEE8-PgXb9P74sm8TCVs/s1600/MSAM_1122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWSB-dylp6PPsvNIuVBmEIE8jXa1hK3zdMusQAALWIWIYPcvsUcQew0lNZ5dbAUiK5rkNWuP__p4WodkyK4CTVMxDLwC8bgD6D41nZiKCLpAfUdfuIH-LmJ6NEE8-PgXb9P74sm8TCVs/s640/MSAM_1122.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bustleton Jetty</span></td></tr>
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<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="ET">By the way, can
you imagine driving on a road in a dark that goes straight for 25km (and I mean
straight – it does not go up or down or left or right at all)? We didn’t think
it would be anything special. But then a light started coming at us and we
could not understand what it was. At times it was like a motorbike 300m away,
sometimes it was like a bike with a huge lantern 50m away. Sometimes it was
like a car... but it only had one light. We almost stopped on the road because
there was something weird coming at us and very close to us. Or was it? In the
end, it turned out that it was a car. It was just so far that it seemed to have
one light. But it was really a weird thing to see.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="ET">I have to talk
about out car as well, because we are so happy about it. The name is El Bruto,
which means „The beast“ in Spanish (as
we are both learning Spanish because of our plan to go to South America in a
year). He is a 25-year old Mitsubishi Pajero with a V6 engine. And here ends my
knowledge about any more numbers to describe the car. You can find that out
from Erik. The cool thing is that we got it for a really cheap price, of
course, and it belonged to backpackers before us. That means that we have a
built-it collapsible bed with a full mattress (so the car looks like a normal
overpacked car during the day and a place to sleep at night). We also got
fishing equipment, tools, plates, cups and so on and in the end saved even more
money because of that. There are some weird coincidences though. The only three
cars that we have had, have been green (including this one). On the last car,
every time a CD didn’t play the radio would show th message ERROR 2 but on the
new one the message is ERROR 3. So an upgrade.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="ET">Anyways with
another pit stop in Perth (thanks again to the same hosts for having us again)
we headed north. But before leaving Perth we stopped by a place called the Job
Shop, which is a company that helps backpackers and employers find each other.
We described our perfect job as in someplace in the outback with a warm
climate, with nothing around and nowhere to spend the money and then stay there
for a couple of moths (and find out if we will go insane or not. but we didn’t
tell that to the lady in the Job Shop). She had just the job for us – in a
small motel in Leonora (a really small place) but it was not really north. In fact it was about 16 degrees in the
daytime and 0 degrees at night. We still decided to apply, since we had no
other jobs that we had applied to. We then waited in and around Geraldton for
two days for the answer but when nothing came, we decided to head more north
(it was still cold in Geraldton).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="ET">Even before
Geraldton but even more after it the part of Australia that I actually missed
started. It is a funny part to miss (ant it certainly was not the only one)
because at first glance, it does not seem to be something worth missing. I just
loved the straight roads that go between the bush. Don’t get it confused with
the one near Donnybrook, that was just plain weird. But the straight roads that
go up and down and sometimes do not bend even one degree in any direction for
half an hour or more. And 90% of the cars on the roads are made up from
roadtrains (trucks that can be 50 metres long, carrying 3-4-5 trailers behind
it), 4 WD trucks, caravan people (I’ll get to them soon) and some backpackers
with their minivans. On the sides of the road you have bush – sometimes as low
as your knee, sometimes up to your waist, sometimes as tall as you. The only
places that have a bit more trees are the billabongs – the dried up river-beds
that only have water during the rainy seasons.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs91X_oO-gWWG5OL8oVn4hno8BAjvEyV8viaM501gJyKjzH61npulTl3GxvQwO-1b8yyCWUzCLMm4luf6ePy9MwrpADItH4lr1fgSLHIMmQgo7gFWtth3B8OEKamOzGjZNZdL-MrrqQdY/s1600/MSAM_0776.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs91X_oO-gWWG5OL8oVn4hno8BAjvEyV8viaM501gJyKjzH61npulTl3GxvQwO-1b8yyCWUzCLMm4luf6ePy9MwrpADItH4lr1fgSLHIMmQgo7gFWtth3B8OEKamOzGjZNZdL-MrrqQdY/s640/MSAM_0776.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A road train</td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">But the caravan
people – what many Aussies do, is when they retire (or sometimes earlier), they
sell their house and all their things, buy a caravan and start moving
somewhere. Some have gone around Australia many times but some of them take 5
years to cover 1000 kn because they find a caravan park that they like and they
live there for a while. Now when I first mentioned Caravan, you probably
thought of something that you can find on the roads in Estonia. Some of them
are like that as well. But some of them are as big as houses, some are
essentially a huge bus (like the one that would go from Tallinn to Moscow),
some fold open into a house. If they have the bus version then they most likely
have a small 4WD that they tow after them. Many of them have boats (even small
„ships“), normal town cars, bikes, scooters
and so on attached to them. I will try to get a good picture of a really good
one and then show it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">Anyways right now
we are in Carnarvon (that is the first town that I stayed in the previous visit
to Aus) and we are living in a caravan park in our tent. The last time that I
was here, you could only wear a sweater at night and it was fine. But last
night the temperature dropped to 4 degrees, so it is not as warm as we hoped.
But since it is not normal that it’s that cold, then there’s a chance that it will
pass. On the first mornings we got awaken by some very cheerful guys from Vanuatu. They were our neighbors, living in a cabin that had its windows (open)
towards us. So the Vanuatus woke up before 5am in the morning and started
speaking to each other very cheerfully and singing little cheerful songs. And
they did that until 7am, when they left for work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="ET"><br /></span></div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="ET">I am working
right now in housekeeping in a nearby motel. The work is not really that I had
hoped for (I would rather pick some fruits or something like that), but at
least I have a job (Erik has not found one yet) and the salary is good so I
guess that I’ll be here for a while. More about the life in caravan park and
Carnarvon in the future. </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5192651218961815712.post-25189261518589869262016-07-01T13:58:00.001-07:002016-07-01T13:59:04.904-07:00Reisi algusPaljud on uurinud, et kas on võimalik meie reisil kuidagi silma peal hoida. Kuna ma oma vanasse blogisse (mannapudrukauss) enam sisse ei saa, siis ma olin sunnitud uue looma, kuna igaühele ükshaaval ma kirjutada niikuinii ei viitsi. Kes on käinud varem Aussis,need teavad et seal ei ole intaernetiga kõige paremlug.Aga ma proovin siiski.<br />
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Praeguse plaani järgi astume homme õhtul lennule Istanbuli (ma just mõned päevad tagasi avaldsin arvamust, et Istanbuli lennijaama on natuke jube minna, kuna see võiks olla üks oluline sihtmärk kõigile neile, kellemeelt ta mustaks ajab). Veedame seal 20 tundi, kõigi eelduste kohatselt veedameöö lennujaamas ja siis päeval saame tasuta istanbuli Ekskursiooni Turkish Airlines'i poolt. Pühapäeva õhtupoolikul liigume Malaisia poole, kuhu saabume hommikul et siis sama päeva õhtul Perth'i poole liikuda.</div>
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Sellest kuidas see plaan juba läheb, kuuleb hiljem. Aga praegu tahaks tänada kõiki kes meie hüvastijätupeole jõudsid. Ned inimesi oli kokku ligi 40, kellest viimased pidasid vastu kuni järgmisel lõunal kuni kella 12'ni. Tervitan kõiki ks ujusid, kes jõid jõe vett, kes käisid võsas, kes viitsisid liha grillida, kes tegid hundirattaid üle(läbi) lõkke ja sealjuures ennast korralikult ära põletasid, kes jõudsid kohale hommikul (ja said selle eest pudeliga vastu pead), kes viitsisid laulda kõvasti ja valesti, kes magasid pool pidu maha, (aga sellegipoolest pidasid kaua vastu), kes käisid hommikul poetiirul ja kõiki teisi, kes veel ennast puudutatuna ei tundnud. Mulle veel praegu ei ole jõundud kohale, et ma teid kõiki nüüd enam tükk aega ei näe, aga see jõuab vst kunagi hiljem kohale,kui ma kunagi mõnes pisikeses lääne-austraalia linnas olen, kus üldse kultuuri ei ole. Põjus on tõenäolises seles, et mavalin oma sõbrad üldiselt ikka selle järgi, kui kiiksugainimesed on. Seega hindan ma teis kõigis seda, et te olete imelikud. Kõige paremas mõttes :)</div>
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Soovin hüvasti neile, kellel olid ees kohustused või kes mingil muul põhjusel ei leidnud teed meie viimasele peole. </div>
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Ma ausõna üritan blogi pidada aga kindlalt ei luba ma midagi.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14062639830416813118noreply@blogger.com4