The Pantanal – Tropical Wetlands of Brazil

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So Adam’s upbeat attitude paid off and we made it to the Pantanal as planned. We arrived 3 hours late and a man was there to greet us as planned: he only had to stand there for a few hours!
  Our tour group had apparently already left for the jungle, but the guy who greeted us said “no problem” he would just drive us the 5 hours into the middle of nowhere himself, then drive back to Campo Grande alone (yes, he is that nice). He said it would be no problem, because if we left right away he would be back in time to have a nap, and then head out to the clubs with one of his 7 girlfriends. Excuse me?

 

So pretty much immediately after getting off 18 hours of busses, we hop into his beat-up Fiat van and drive through the wetlands towards nowhere. We make excellent time because there is no traffic on the road, stop for lunch and make it to our checkpoint a good hour before schedule. From there we were herded into the back of a pickup truck (exactly like the death cab in Kao Sok for those of you in Thailand with us) and continue for another hour, off-roading through the jungle, towards camp.

The camp is very well put together, and much more luxurious than I would have imagined. There are tons of hammock circles covered by thatched grass roofs, a little swimming pool, beach volley ball court, a small bar, a big dining area, bungalows with dorm style beds and even a soccer field (which is totally unusable because it is filled with cows and bulls). There are a tonne of noisy parrots and unique looking birds (we even saw a great horned owl a few minutes ago). Weird looking little pigs keep roaming around our hammocks and the bugs, of course, are endless.

On our first night, after a wonderful buffet dinner, we went on a “night safari”.   We all jumped into the back of a large truck, our guide Paulo held a huge spotlight, and we drove through the jungle in search of animals!  Before we even left the camp a giant bug hit one of the girls in the chest and fell onto her lap. She started screaming and jumping around, so everyone’s flashlights quickly moved to see what was happening. There on the ground was the absolute LARGEST beetle I have ever seen in my LIFE.  The thing was a little larger than the palm of my hand, with giant pincers and thick, pointed legs! It scuttled around on the ground, freaking even the boys out, until the guide picked it up and tossed it off the side. I’m pretty sure that made everyone a little itchy and squeamish for the next hour of our excursion. Adam and I faired the best, but even the Israeli boys were a little jumpy as every few seconds another beetle hit one of us in the face or leg.
  The jungle was full of life we couldn’t see at night. Frogs, bugs, birds and what sounded like a loud dying cat filled the air with a deafening noise that almost drowned out the sound of the truck we were in! We managed to see quite a bit of wildlife in the short hour we were out. Apart from the bugs, obviously, we saw a whole load of caimans in the ponds. Their glowing eyes were actually really freaky, a good dozen of them staring back at us into the light. Next we came across a family of capybaras, the largest rodents on earth.  They are just like gophers, but are larger than most big dogs. Very weird. Then we saw a Toco toucan in one of the trees, which was really exciting. We saw a bunch of them in the bird sanctuary in Foz Do Iguassu but it was really fun to see one in the wild. We also ran across a deer (yes they are even in the Amazon!) and a fox!

 

The next morning we had breakfast bright and early at 7am. We then went horseback riding all morning! The horses were younger and had a lot more energy than the ones in Uruguay, so we had plenty of chances to gallop along the open meadows, and canter into lakes deep enough to get our feet soaked. The horses seemed particularly thrilled to run into the lakes and splash around for a while. We didn’t see a lot of wildlife, but the ride was amazing and we were out for a couple hours, messing around through the jungle.

After a short siesta and a wonderful lunch, we set out, in the back of the pickup once again, and towards the Parana River for a boat ride through the wetlands. We didn’t see as much unique wildlife as I had expected. Families of capybaras were fun to photograph, and the occasional caiman, but we did see ENDLESS species of birds. So many I can’t remember even a quarter of their names.  However, even though we didn’t spot the elusive jaguar, or catch an anteater, the scenery was beautiful, and the sunset on the way home was spectacular!

The next morning we were up bright and early for a 3-hour jungle trek. Honesty, I should have stayed in bed. I got very little sleep because Adam and I stayed up late drinking beers with the most interesting man in the world, and so, I was already not looking forward to a three-hour excursion. I also was NOT prepared for the number of mosquitoes that would be out at that time of day!  In the end, we didn’t see any wildlife because three of the guys we were with were so noisy. So instead of a wilderness trek, we hiked it through the dense jungle (at parts literally fighting through with a machete) and I was DESTROYED by mosquito bites. For all of you present for the bug bites Caitlin and I had in Thailand… This was worse. Fortunately, we made it home, and I cheered up a bit after a nice shower and a hearty lunch!

For our afternoon activity, we went piranha fishing! This was by far my favourite part of the Pantanal. We trucked out to one of the near by rivers with some bamboo rods and set up camp with a bucket full of raw steak! 
The piranhas at this time of year (end of the dry season) are starving, so it’s very easy to get a nibble. It is more difficult to pull one out, since they are very smart, and very quick! We were told to stand right up close to the river’s edge, which was slightly unnerving for a couple of reasons. Firstly, one of the guides apparently went into the river a couple years earlier and had a cut on her leg. The piranhas instantly started attacking her leg and she was lucky to get out before losing it. We were apparently fine, because they only attack open wounds, but I didn’t particularly want to push my luck.  Secondly, there were several caimans just a few feet in front of us that smelled the meat and wanted some food. Apparently, the caimans wont attack us, but this was told to us by our guide Paulo, who was making the caimans snap away at dead piranhas he held above their heads… and Paulo was missing a finger. So I’m not sure if he is the most trustworthy source.

Nonetheless, I stepped up to the water, Marcello baited my hook, threw it in and said “when u feel a nibble, pull straight up very quickly”. Before he even finished his sentence I said, “like this?” and jerked the rod straight into the air. The hook, with the meat still attached flew about 12 feet into the air, and a piranha, NOT attached to the hook flew right along side it. I’m pretty sure I must have shrieked a little as both of them flew towards me at a considerable speed. I let the hook swing past me, and the piranha landed at my feet. Everyone looked a little stunned. My memories of fishing in the past have been a lot of waiting around, and not a lot of nibbles, but this was VERY different. Turns out the piranha I caught was a baby, so Marcello kicked it back in (with flip flops on) and we tried again. All of us caught several fish in the short time we were there. I only caught the baby ones (and a tree at one point), and Marcello joked I was the worst fisherman he’d ever seen! Adam turned out to be the hero of the day and snagged two big ones to take home and grill up!

Ultimately, fishing was my favourite part of the Pantanal. If you ever get the opportunity to fish for piranhas DEFINITELY do it. It’s a little difficult to try to fish, while watching for flying hooks, trying to avoid the wasps that want the meat, and keeping an eye out for the caimans that will sneak up within a meter before grunting and giving away their position (and scaring the hell out of the fisherman) but it’s totally worthwhile. As Antoine, one of the French guys, put it “there are too many dangerous things all around!”  
At the end of the afternoon, Marcello and Paulo cleaned the fish, and we headed back to the pousada. For dinner that night, on top of the buffet, we were presented with a huge platter of BBQ piranhas! We each took one and they were pretty delicious! It’s a tasty white meat, but very bony. Kind of reminded me of crab, because it was difficult to get into, but worth the fight! Most of the meat was in the head, which freaked out Antoine and Francois when we ate the eyes and brains.  When in Rome, right?

Our final morning we went trekking through the forest again. I was unenthused to be eaten alive by mosquitoes again, but our guides ensured us we’d see more animals because the noisy Israeli boys had left.  So we dragged ourselves into the truck and drove out to a new trekking area. I came prepared with my bottle of mosquito repellant in hand, the longest pants I own, a long sleeved shirt, AND Adam’s long sleeved shirt on top of that (because he is impermeable to mosquitoes. Jerk.). It was so unbearably hot in the sunshine I could hardly handle it, but I then remembered how itchy I was and powered through. We did see more animals this time, including monkeys, coatis and hyacinth macaws (which are endangered, and only 4000 exist in the Pantanal) among many others. Day 2’s trek was much more worth it.

That afternoon, we packed up our things and headed back to Campo Grande. We waited a few hours at the hostel and caught the 23:25 bus to Curitiba. I took a Gravol about a half hour before the scheduled bus time, because the meds take so much longer to hit me than Adam; however, when our bus left 45 min late I was a total zombie. I could hardly stand; I dragged my feet towards the bus and climbed the steps. The whole bus wreaked of urine, but I didn’t care, I snuck in beside a random man, managed to put together my elaborate sleeping arrangement (the only way I can sleep on the bus) of a sleeping mask, sweater, coat, blow up neck pillow, sarong as a blanket, footrest down, purse tied around left leg, and water by my side. Finally, I don’t have to move for hours!  
We got no more than 10 minutes into the trip before the bus stopped for gas. Everyone had to get off the bus and wait at a checkpoint. I unhappily dragged my ass off the bus and found a bench to sit on to wait. My vision was almost blurry at this point I was so exhausted. I folded in half sitting on the bench, let my head hang between my legs and was half in and out of sleep while Adam watched for the bus. The blood rushing to my brain from being upside-down didn’t help with dizziness, so thankfully the bus came back only 15 minutes later. After setting up camp again, I passed out so fast. I woke up 8 hours later at a breakfast checkpoint and was the only person on the bus. My eyes were stinging from dehydration, and I guarantee I looked like a train wreck. So I washed up in the bathrooms and felt a little more human. It was 8:40am local time (the time zones in this area of Brazil are very confusing) and according to our tickets we got off at 9:00am. This was a pleasant surprise, because we thought it would be longer. Then a man came on the bus and announced in Portuguese that we were making excellent time, and we would arrive in Curitiba at 6:00 PM tonight. Excuse me?  Looks like our ticket was wrong: only 10 hours to go.

Transportation Adventure

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Well, everyone should be happy to hear that my travel luck has moved from horrendous airport fiascos to endless bus rides.  Adam and I have been trying to get to Campo Grande for 2 days now.  We told our hostel 3 days ago that we wanted to book a bus right away. They ensured us that busses go several times a day, so to check back with them the morning we wanted to leave and they could book us a ticket.

So the next morning, our receptionist Clei calls up the station and books us on the 5 pm bus. We paid for our ticket, went out to see the bird sanctuary for the afternoon, grabbed our bus snacks (because god knows I’m not eating that bus food again) and make it back to the hostel a couple hours early. 
”Bad news” says Clei. The bus is full. Not just ours, but ALL the busses. No more leave until the following night! So, we book the next day’s bus, stay at the hostel for one more night, make it through the day at the giant Paraguayan/Brazil dam and head towards the bus station (finally).

Our bus is supposed to leave at 18:00.  We are fairly on time and leave at quarter after instead.  No big deal. The scenery in Brazil is surprisingly stunning! It reminds us a lot of driving through the Okanagan with rolling hills of green and fields of crops. Other than a little bit of construction on the highway, we are making good time. Which is really nice because we have to switch busses in a city a couple hours up the road in order to continue North. We have 2 hours on the first bus, 13 on the second. Makes for a long night. Unfortunately, just when everything seems so great, our bus gets stopped for a random drug check. Police come on board with drug dogs and search the isles. Our bags are all taken off the bus, opened up and searched through. A couple people are asked to step off the bus and be checked, but in the end, nothing is found and we all continue. We are now another 25 minutes late.  
I start to wonder if we are going to have issues catching our connecting bus. Thankfully, Adam is the voice of reason and ensures me that the bus system in Brazil is probably like airplanes, and they will let the other bus know we are running behind. This satisfies me enough to stop worrying; however, when we arrive at our random town in the middle of nowhere, our bus has already left. One of the employees at the bus station checks our tickets and writes 22:00 on it. “This your new time, 22:00”. Okay, we have an hour and 15 minutes to wait. Not to worry, we will play a couple games of crib and the time will pass. At 10 minutes to, we head out to where our bags are all stored. A few others join us, but there is no bus. So we wait. At 5 minutes after, we are all asked to move BACK into the terminal to wait. No one is allowed to stand in the loading area anymore. Then they close all the exits but one, set up some ropes and a podium at the only open door, and wait. As busses start showing up around 10:30, crowds of people start huddling around the podium trying to get out. We do the same, as we see someone moving our bags (which had to be left outside) towards a bus and loading them on.  No one is allowed outside. The attendants have a GIANT list of names printed off on some old school printer paper from the 90’s (the one where all the pages are in one long row and you have to rip the holed edges off in order to get a normal sized page). The attendant then starts at the top of the list and works his was down the pages (at least 4 long it looks like) reading one name at a time for passengers on 3 different busses that are parked outside. From the absolute zero Portuguese that I understand, I realize something is not working with the system.  Everything has to be done manually, one person at a time. 
Unlike if this happened in Canada, where people would be unhappy, but quietly brood away in their heads, Brazilians are much more verbal. Everyone is yelling at the attendants: “Dios a mio” (oh my God) is heard repeatedly.  The ruckus is making all the names harder and harder to hear! We push our way to the front, and get on our bus relatively early, which is perfect, because it’s 11:00 and I want to take a Gravol to sleep with on the bus. I was worried about taking it before, incase the bus never came and we were required to function. 
So, much later, after another manual seat check on the bus, we pull out of the depot and continue our journey.  At this point, we are 5 hours and 15 min into our trip.

Total kilometers traveled: 100.

Normally this would be a non-issue. Time is time, who cares, EXCEPT, this is the only place in our trip that we actually have a tour guide waiting for us on the other side. This poor man is going to be standing with a sign that says “Adam and Hilary” and we will not be getting off the bus! We are supposed to be starting our 3-day tour, right as we get off the bus, and head deep into the Pantanal. So, since our bus didn’t wait 20 minutes, I have a hard time believing a tour guide with a full tour of people will be waiting around for 3 and a half hours instead of continuing their 5 hour journey to the Amazon. Adam is still optimistic, which stops me from panicking too much. I don’t particularly want to stay 2 more days in what people keep referring to as “a shitty city” before being able to book another tour.

So this is where we are! I’m on the bus and it’s quarter after midnight. I have supposedly 12 more hours on this bus and the guy sitting in front of me smells like he hasn’t showered in a month. I could smell his body odor LONG before he reclined his chair into my lap, held his arms up above his head and had his hands touching my bent up knees. Luckily, we are right next to the bathrooms, so the sour body odor smell is occasionally masked with the smell of bus toilet. (If you’ve never experienced this scent, it’s a must!). I have no idea where we are, or when we’ll be getting off, but Adam hopes that when he wakes up, we’ll be lucky enough to “just be there”. At least one of us is optimistic! Here’s to hoping he’s right this time 🙂

Iguaçu Falls: An Incredible Wonder of the World

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The day after our long overnight bus trip was gorgeous: possibly the hottest day of our trip so far, although I never actually saw what the temperature was. Adam and I walked through town and down to the river so that we could get our first glimpse of Brazil (everything on the other side of the water). It was fairly uneventful, we just snapped a photo and then trudged our way back up a steep hill in the scalding heat, but, we were excited at the prospect of having a 3rd country on our list. Our hostel had a really nice pool with hammocks and lawn chairs around it, so we took it easy for the rest of the evening.

The next morning we were pumped up for the falls! I woke up, showered (carefully, since it appears ALL the showers this far north are suicide showers) and headed outside to breakfast… As I got outside, I realized it was not just raining, but pouring down in a torrential monsoon only possible in tropical rainforests. Thunder boomed and the heavy-duty waterspouts on our building were having trouble holding in all the rain. 
However, the weather was not about to deter either of us from enjoying this wonder of the world, so we grabbed our raincoats and headed for the bus stop!

As we arrived at the falls, the rain calmed down a bit. We were still soaked within minutes, but the rain was warm and it wasn’t very foggy, so pictures were not a problem.
 I wish I could describe the falls and surrounding area properly, but I suppose wonders of the world are called that simply because they are too great for words: and Iguaçu Falls is precisely that. 
 On the Argentinean side of the falls, there are several waking trails (each around a km in length) that lead to different parts of the falls. We started on the Superior Trail, and found our first view of the falls to be directly on top of them! We stood above some of the smaller falls, and looked towards San Martin Island (a small island at the foot of the falls that we explored later in the day) and were totally taken aback. Both of us at the same time thought “Jurassic Park”. The place looked exactly like some giant T-Rex should pop out of the thick jungle and terrorize both the people and the boats around the base of the falls. Of course, to our relief, this didn’t happen, but it gives you an impression of what we were overlooking. Another thing we were surprised about, was how GREEN the falls were. The water was still a sparkling white, but green grasses and exotic plants clung to the rocks of the falls, making an even more beautiful panorama.

We continued through all the other trails (and San Martin Island) for the rest of the afternoon. I think we managed to see the falls from every angle possible by the end of the day. It was absolutely mind-blowing how much water rushed over the rocks and down into the river. Iguaçu Falls is the largest waterfall in the world in terms of water volume. There are a total of 275 waterfalls and each one bigger than the next!

For our last stop, we took the train up to the “Gargantua del Diablo” or “The Devil’s Throat”. This waterfall was by far the most impressive. It is one giant, semicircular waterfall that is absolutely unbelievable. We stood right on top, in the deafening roar, and looked down over the edge. From the top, you can’t even see where the water ends, due to the amount of steam and spray it gives off when it hits the river below.

The day at Iguaçu was epic to say the least. We managed to stand on top of the falls, look up from the bottom and even take a boat ride right through them (Which soaked us to the core completely as our boat crashed through the spray and right under the rushing water). In the end the weather was refreshing, and it made for a quiet day at the park: no lines, perfect views! 
The next day, the sun was up and we headed over to Brazil. We checked in at a hostel and headed back to the falls to see them from the Brazilian side! The Brazilian side was much less interactive than the Argentinean side. There were no path to walk through the falls, and it was impossible to get up close and personal; however, it did offer amazing chances for photos from a wider perspective. The weather was perfect and the falls were just as beautiful! It is definitely a two day event and a must see wonder from both countries. Unfortunately, the only way to really understand how amazing the falls are, is to make it down yourself. Because no amount of photos or words compare…

Rosario: River Life at its Best!

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We ended up in Rosario for the sole reason that it was “in the right direction”.  A city 4 hours North of Buenos Aires, Rosario was a great way to split the long haul up to Iguazu.  Maybe it was because I had absolutely zero expectations, but I actually really enjoyed this place! It had the perfect amount of “big city” to keep things interesting, but lacked the overwhelming feel that larger cities like Buenos Aires and Montevideo have. To me, Rosario is the most “livable” city I’ve visited in South America yet.

My favourite thing about Rosario is the nightlife on the river. The whole city stretches along the big Rio Parana, and, while the downtown core remains practically empty on a Friday night, the river swarms with thousands of people! 
The first section of the river we waked through was upscale restaurants. At 11:30pmthese places are hitting prime time for dinner and drinks. Large outdoor areas are set up with tablecloth-covered plastic patio furniture so that groups can enjoy the still stifling temperatures with a cooler river breeze.  As we continued along we discovered the BBQ pit. Far below the walkway – which is several meters above the river level – are row upon row of picnic tables (all completely full with families, friends and good food). There are hundreds of BBQ pits set up along one wall for people to grill up their own food and have a meat cook-off! People brought boom boxes to blast tunes and everyone seemed to be enjoying the evening. Even further along we reached some stairs that brought our path down to water level. Couples lined the giant staircase, hiding in shadows, embracing one another and watching over the happenings below. At the bottom of the steps there was even more to do! Giant, graffiti-filled skate parks were packed with young kids trying out new tricks and showing off to their friends. Families gathered on blankets or lawn chairs on the grassy fields and caught up on their week. Everyone from young babies to grandparents were awake well into the morning, enjoying the lively river-life.  Many people fished off the edge of the walkway (on clearly marked no fishing zones) and EVERYONE shared mate with each other.

Even though I’ve been getting used to the late dinners, the mid-day siestas and having NOTHING open on Sundays, I’m still amazed by the late social aspects of South America. I can’t think of one place in Canada where thousands of families, young and old, friends and lovers will gather around EVERY night and socialize until well after midnight. And although this is still so foreign, I actually am really enjoying it!

We ended up spending 3 days in Rosario altogether. The first evening we went down to the water and joined in with the local nightlife. On the second day we had a “historic” day. I was a little disappointed in seeing Che Guevara’s birthplace. It was one of the top things to do on my list in Rosario, and I couldn’t believe all they had was a red sign outside the building he was born in that read “La casa natal de “Che” Guevara”. The building has now been turned into a bank. No museum, no plaque with something historic written on it… just a street sign.

The creator of the Argentinean flag, also from Rosario, was a completely different story. He had a huge 2 block squared monument for him! Giant columns with a huge, eternally burning, cauldron stood in front of a marble courtyard. On the other side of the courtyard was a massive building with larger than life statues of angels and warrior motifs along the walls. For 75cents you could take an elevator up the 20-story building and get a great view of the city and surrounding river. Worth it for photos for sure!

Our third day was a beach day, the temperature finally cooled to a MUCH more comfortable 33 degrees and was overcast (which tricked me into burning again, even with loads of sunscreen on). It was a perfect way to spend the day after a little too much beer, vino, cards and dancing the night before; also, it was a relaxing way to spend Nikki’s last day with us (so sad!). 
We took it easy that night to be up early for the bus this morning.

Adam and I had no clue this morning where we would be sleeping tonight. We figured we’d just head to the bus station and look for another city north of here. When we found out at 10:30 this morning that the next bus headed in our direction was at 4:45pm we were slightly deterred. We had hoped to spend the night somewhere near Posadas, but to no avail! So we found a bus at 2:30 to Iguazu Falls and picked that one.  We then spent a few hours in the air conditioned McDonald’s across the street, played a few games of our 4-month long crib competition (Loser buys full steak dinner in Buenos Aires at La Cabrera on our last night) and then hopped on the bus… for EIGHTTEEN HOURS!! Looks like “where I’ll be spending the night” is in this chair, with a baby behind me, and the worst movie choices in the history of the world. On the upside, we have been fed dinner, which was a total bonus! Unfortunately, It was a strange mix of what I think was a chicken breast with lemon (Nikki will get a kick out of this – “when you’re really craving a sandwich, get a piece of chicken with lemon”) and a weird slice of a wrap with cheese and ham.  Maybe it was an olive: something salty anyways. Then there was a stale bun with a slice of ham stuck to it, but the ham tasted like it was doused with sugar. Not sure why. There was also another rock hard bun, and a strange cookie that was dipped in yogurt? White chocolate? Not sure, nothing had any flavor in it. Adam swears the cookie was the best part, but I took one bite then passed it over. To compare, I would eat airplane food everyday of my life rather than look at that meal one more time. Needless to say, I’ve called dibs on the bathroom first when we get food poisoning, so Adam’s shit out of luck on that front.
  Anyways, I’ve now been on the bus for a little over 8.5 hours and I really think my years sitting in a car, working at BC Ferries, has prepared me well for South American bus rides! Unfortunately, sleeping on moving vehicles is NOT my forte, so Adam has promised to drug me up with sleeping pills so I can function tomorrow when we are dropped off in Iguazu at 9am.  These falls better be all their cracked up to be…
Wish me luck!

(As a side note, the bus took 20 hours, but we arrived safely!)

El Galope: Uruguayan Ranch Life

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Adam, trying to escape the heat of the countryside

After a couple busy days in Montevideo, checking out the city and enjoying the beach, we decided it was time to escape civilization. We found an ADORABLE hostel inland called El Galope. El Galope is a little farm-home turned guesthouse that holds about 10 people in several rooms; this place was UNREAL!

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 After my slightly challenged directions to the place, we picked up some wine, cheese and grapes for an evening snack and set out on the bus to km 114.5… Not a bus stop, but literally just the side of the road. 
 The woman who ran the place picked us up from the side of the highway and drove us along dusty dirt roads until we pulled up at the ranch. The temperature must have been close to 38 degrees and we were all very thankful to run into the shade of the building.  The place had a cute little shaded patio, fully equipped with hammocks and comfortable beanbag chairs! 
After checking in, we grabbed an icy beer and hopped in their little pool! The water only came up to my waist while standing, but it was the perfect size and temperature for sitting down and cooling off from the heat of central Uruguay. Even the owners joined us for a dip and caught us up on the happenings of the ranch and the history of the area.

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El Galope hostel

Once we were cooled off we decided to go for an evening horseback ride with a friend of Miguel’s (one of the owners). So a half hour or so later, this truly traditional Uruguayan “gaucho” named Hugo picked us up and drove us towards his ranch. It was a 25km drive further inland to Hugo’s ranch.  We crawled along in his beater of a van that clunked and jolted over the dirt roads. We passed through gorgeous expanses of countryside and through traditional little towns along the way. The towns were incredibly simplistic: definitely no extravagant European influences that are so prolific in the major cities down here. All the shop owners sat out front of their stores with their mate tea and their thermoses of hot water (just like every single other Uruguayan in the country) and each person gave a wave to Hugo on the way by.

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Getting all saddled up!

Hugo’s ranch was much larger than Miguel’s; they had several dogs and cats that roamed freely on the property and a bunch of horses in the fields. Three horses were already saddled up and ready to go for us when we arrived. So we set out into the countryside just the four of us! It was clear Hugo spoke almost zero English, but after a week in South America our Spanish was good enough to have conversations about the animals, our homes, jobs, and of course, the wonderful mate tea we were quickly getting hooked on!
  We rode for about 45 minutes before we came to a quiet river and a pool of water that looked so refreshing! Unfortunately Miguel had forgot to mention to bring our bathing suits, or we would have gone swimming.  Nonetheless, we had a lovely time dipping our feet in and watching Hugo swim around with the dogs to cool off.
  The whole trek took a little over two hours and was endless amounts of awesome! When we got back to Hugo’s, we were greeted with a pitcher of icy lemonade and Hugo mixed us up his special mate frio – a cold version of the traditional hot liquid with lime and lemon juice added. Needless to say, it was beyond delicious! We all shared the drink, then began the trek back to El Galope.

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Hugo, our guide, taking a refreshing dip in the lagoon with his dog.

By the time we arrived it was dinnertime! Miguel’s wife cooks dinner every night for the guests of the hostel, and that night it was a Uruguayan meat pie with mashed potatoes and coleslaw – with chocolate ice cream to top it off for dessert. The unique aspect of this hostel is that all the guests eat together at the same time. The long wooden table in the kitchen was set for the 9 of us; wine or beer was available, and everyone got to catch up on their day and meet. It was a bit unusual, but such a wonderful way of meeting the other guests!

When dinner was over and dishes were washed, we had showers and set up for our evening of stargazing. This was my first experience seeing stars in the Southern Hemisphere and I could not have asked for a better place to do so! Adam, Nikki and I dragged bean bag chairs out into the field, brought a couple bottles of wine, some cheese, grapes, and a baguette and studied the constellations that Miguel had briefly tutored Adam about. It was a PERFECTLY clear night with a bunch of shooting stars and an unbelievable view of the Milky May (having no cities around for kilometers). 
Hands down, this was my favourite day of the trip thus far. We could have stayed at the hostel for weeks, but there’s more world to explore, so we had to head out the next morning. According to the owners, a young girl from Vancouver came for just a couple nights last year.  Turns out, she ended up living and working on the farm with them for over 2 months! This does not surprise me in the slightest.

Anyways, after a small extravaganza trying to catch a boat back from Colonia to Buenos Aires, we did make it! And we are now en route to Rosario, a small city, 4 hours north of Buenos Aires and the birthplace of Che Guevara! Pretty exciting!  More on that later I’m sure 🙂

Colonia Del Sacramento: Three Days in Paradise

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Wow, where do I start?  Colonia is amazing! A little beach town in the West of Uruguay, Colonia is the perfect mix of touristy relaxation and local flavor. We came to Colonia on the 1hr boat from Buenos Aires and planned to stay for 1 night… Now here I am, three days later, writing on the bus to Montevideo! 
 Our first afternoon in Colonia we spent walking through town and checking out the long stretch of quiet beaches on the southern coast. Finally a taste of REAL ocean and not the decaying fish-infested waters of Buenos Aires.  After a stroll in the surf, it was wine time!  We chilled on the patio of this quaint little pub, looking out onto the ocean and watched the sun set on our first evening. 
 After a late sleep-in from too much vino the night before, we decided to have a beach day.  We walked through the cobblestone streets, checked out the more historical side of the town, then found a nice beach to suntan, read and listen to tunes.  What could be more relaxing?  It was such a great way to spend the day after the hustle and bustle of Buenos Aires. After the beach, we found a trendy lounge that had a beautiful shady deck out back that hung over the water, and we worked on our wine log once again – a Uruguayan Sauvignon Blanc that totally hit the spot after escaping the heat! 
 We then grabbed a late afternoon snack of cheese and baguette, picked up a few litros of beer and spent the evening playing cards on our hostel patio.  After several too many beers and being destroyed by Nikki at 27 holes of “Golf” (cards), we figured 11pm was an acceptable time to eat dinner.  So we dressed up and stumbled our way to a local all-you-can-eat Uruguayan BBQ where we stuffed our faces with all sorts of food for the next couple hours.  
Day 3 in Colonia was arguably better than the other two combined.  We met some fellow British Columbians at our hostel who had met a young local guy named Mattias who wanted to show us Colonia from a local point of view.  So we rented bikes, grabbed some cold Pilsen and trekked 4km out of town to a beautiful, and essentially deserted, lagoon. The cool water was MUCH needed in the heat!  We then found our way to a secluded little beach just a short walk from the lagoon and spent HOURS lying in the sun, playing Frisbee and getting to know our new-found friends. When I finally turned into a lobster around 6pm we decided to head back to town. Apart from the burns, we couldn’t have asked for a better day! We enjoyed our last evening over a couple drinks and our first home (hostel) cooked meal of the trip! 
It was definitely bittersweet checking out this morning, but it’s time to check out what the rest of the country has to offer 🙂

Buenos Aires: When in Doubt, A Bottle of Vino

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Well, I finally have friends! Adam and Nikki have successfully joined me here in Buenos Aires and we’ve had numerous cultural experiences: some successful, others not so much.  
Adam and I explored the gorgeous Teatro Colon and the cementerio where Eva “Evita” Peron and Jim Morrison were buried. We walked around the city, stopping for ice-cream at the famous Freddo cafe, and then stopped along the river for happy hour and shared a bottle of Argentinean Malbec. The wine here is so amazing that our new motto is “when in doubt, a bottle of vino;” and so, whenever we find ourselves exhausted from walking, we stop at the closest cafe and expand on our newly founded wine log.

The next day we toured again; we saw some beautiful churches, visited the presidential palace and explored the San Telmo district – by far my favourite in Buenos Aires! It is filled with quaint little cafes, cobblestone streets and European style architecture! I could stay there all day, just sipping on coffee in one of the plazas!  We carried on from there to this giant park on the other side of town.  We figured, if we crossed the whole park (5-ish km) then we would have our first taste of South American OCEAN! I’m so excited about this! So we trekked through the park, which to me felt strangely like a slightly greener African safari than a park in the middle of a metropolitan city, and made it to the first beach of the trip! 
Definitely NOT what I expected. Giant dead fish lined the tide line, the place reeked of decay, and the water was a sludgy brownish colour. There were a few people hanging around, but NO ONE was interested in touching the water. Naturally, I felt the need to put my foot in the ocean, but I could possibly have some strange disease because of it. I’ll keep u posted 🙂

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After our failed ocean attempt, and a 5km walk back to the city, we stopped at a mate bar for some traditional Paraguayan tea.  The locals here drink mate like a fat kid eats cake; it’s EVERYWHERE.  However, when we ordered the tea, instead of each getting a cup, we were given: a 1/4kg of loose tea, a thermos of hot water, a pitcher of cool water, a spoon, several packets of sugar, some biscuits and one cup with a cool straw to share. Needless to say, we were slightly confused at how to put everything together.   So we mixed a spoonful of the tealeaves in the cup, added the hot water, used the straw to stir and began drinking. Minutes later the waitress came over and started laughing at us. Clearly we weren’t doing this right.  She poured out our sad mixture and did it for us: half a packet of sugar at the bottom, fill the cup half full with the tea leaves, add the other half of the sugar, fill the rest of the cup with tea to the brim, add hot water, enjoy through straw.  At first it was super bitter and very strong. The caffeine went straight to my head within minutes and I was unsure whether I wanted more. After a bit, however, we both grew very accustom to the taste and we ended up sitting for a couple hours sipping at the tea and enjoying the patio!

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After the tea we figured we would go back to the hostel and wait for Nikki. But what to do while we wait? When in doubt, a bottle of vino! Nikki arrived fairly soon after we got to the hostel, so the three of us sat out on the second story terrace and sipped on wine and caught up. After that, it was dinner (it being 11pm, and that being the acceptable hour for south Americans to eat dinner). So we went out to a local milonga bar to have pizza and watch locals tango dance late into the night (over another bottle of wine of course). The tango is SUCH a beautiful and sexy dance to watch! Definitely another bucket list crossed off my life’s to-do list.  “Tango show at a local milonga in Argentina sipping wine with good friends” – Check!

La Bombonera!

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The Boca district, on the west side of Buenos Aires, is home to the famous Bombonera (chocolate box). La Bombonera is the home stadium for the world-renowned Boca Junior Football team (soccer for the confused North Americans out there) and is home to HUGE names like Diego Maradona – who played with the team throughout his career and who is arguably one of the greatest football players of all time. 

 Two days ago, I had the pleasure of touring the Bombonera stadium and was amazed by the feel of the place.

The blocks surrounding the stadium are fully dedicated to the team.  Bars, restaurants and souvenir shops, all painted in the infamous blue and gold colours, sport flags and signs and give the neighborhood an exciting, but focused, atmosphere.  Even without a game on this month, you can feel the craziness; broken beer bottles line the sidewalks for blocks, and with the small, windy streets you can see how a crowd would be pushed through the area.

Inside, the stadium is tiny. At first I was shocked by how intimate it all was. Don’t get me wrong, the place still holds 50 000 fans, but I guarantee safety regulations in Canada would half that number. The fans are divided, not by priced sections, but instead, by how crazy they like to party. Any actual seat in the stadium is considered “preferred seating”. Because the field only meets minimum size requirements, every seat has pretty much the same view. So fans that prefer to sit and enjoy the game quietly are placed in the seats along the length of the field; whereas, the fans that want to riot while watching the game are placed behind the goal, on the second level, next to a giant painted number “12”. These fans are considered the 12th player of the game. They will literally involve themselves within every call, every kick, and every move a player makes on the field. They will shout obscenities, call out to their teammates and personally attack a referee for making a bad call by shouting about his mother or his sister!

The lower level of the arena offers a standing room only section: one on each end of the field. Each space was apparently meant for 2000 fans (although I can’t imagine how). Turns out, the areas each fit 5000 standing fans: 2 1/2 TIMES the original capacity. No wonder people are trampled to death when riots break out!  Of the 50 000 fans, only 3000 seats are allotted for the opposition. They have to sit on the top floor, and are denied any and all luxuries; they enter from a separate door; they have no shade, no hot water nor any of the amenities granted to the home team fans. Their section is surrounded by giant walls of glass, topped with barbed wire and chain-linked fence to separate the two groups. The entire debacle is absolutely insane.  
Just standing within the stadium walls one can imagine how moving, and passionate, and out of control the big games against Boca’s arch enemy River would be. The stadium is clearly Argentina’s pride; that much is evident in every detail put into the stadium (and the museum that sits in the lobby).  
I am definitely lucky to have stood in the stands where so many fans have cheered for Boca, and I am hoping so much we get to catch a game there in May on our way back through Buenos Aires!

Suicide Showers

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For weeks now people have been telling me to be careful in South America. “Watch out for thieves,” ” be careful of your purse,” ” don’t turn your back on drinks at the bar,” “be wary of sketchy characters,” ” look both ways before crossing the street;traffic is nuts”.  People have come up with a plethora of safety tips and things to watch out for, but no one prepared me for what will ultimately be the death of me down here… Suicide showers.  
Although I briefly read about these 3rd world contraptions, I never really knew what to expect. Suicide showers are a home-installed, water heating system, where the hot water for a shower is heated inside the actual showerhead.  A combination of stray wires, a lot of insulation tape and a sketchy combination of water and high voltages of electricity and VOILA! You’ve got warm water… sometimes.  Occasionally, botched installations mean sparks flying from your showerhead: a “shocking” experience to say the least.

So I jumped in the shower yesterday morning and turned on the hot water.  As I touched the knob, it felt like my hand had fallen asleep. I shook it out, figuring I’d slept on my arm wrong and tried again. This time I felt a major electrical shock go through my whole arm! I yelped, pulled away and tried for the cold knob: same thing!  At this point, I had successfully turned the shower to scalding hot and couldn’t touch either knob.  So I tried with a towel, but the shock went right through, causing my hand to seize and grab the whole thing tighter. I feebly attempted to change the water temperature for another couple minutes until I had to suck up my pride and ask Connor, a guy I had met only hours earlier, to come help me. “Hi, I’m the dumb blonde you met, and I can’t figure out how to work a shower without electrocuting myself!” Embarrassingly, He felt nothing… I felt like an idiot
.  Luckily for my pride however, when he tried the shower later, the same thing happened to him!  Is it sad this makes me feel better?  Since then, each time I’ve showered, different levels of electric currents have shocked my arm.  Even flushing the toilet this morning I got zapped!  Does this seem safe so close to water? The little I remember about electricity, is that it does NOT mix with water. If I wear rubber flip flops will that help? 
 Either way, I suppose I will continually play Russian roulette with my life every time I bathe for the next 4 months. And to everyone giving advice out there about safety… Forget the harmless homeless people, and beware of cleanliness!

Arriving in Buenos Aires: Not So Bueno After All

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I successfully made it on the plane to Chicago, and I found myself sitting there, thinking “What in the world am I going to do in Buenos Aires for 4 days?” I’d spent so much time getting organized for Brazil, figuring out what major cities I should visit, Carnaval reservations, etc, that I actually have no idea what the capital of Argentina has to offer. I figured I wouldn’t worry much about it on the plane; there was really nothing I could do until I got there. So I picked up my in-flight magazine, flipped it open, and read “Three Perfect Days in Buenos Aires,” a 4-page article, detailing step by step, what to do in the city if you only have 3 days: right down to the last cafe and ice cream stop! 
Just goes to show I’ve still got lucky traveler’s syndrome even without my dearest Caitlin by my side! *Knock on wood*

Okay… The knocking on wood didn’t work. It has been almost a full day since I was joyfully on the plane to Chicago and thanking my stars that I’ve still got luck on my side. 

My luck continued for a little while, I must admit. I got to Chicago without a hitch: had a perfect view of the city skyline with a sunset backdrop! I even arrived at the airport a FULL 30 minutes ahead of schedule, and easily found my gate across O’Hare’s oversized airport. A minor glitch in the system meant we had to be moved to another flight to DC, but that left me with, not only a whole row to myself, but the entire back half of the plane! 
Once again, I arrived 10 minutes early in Washington, caught my connecting flight with practically no wait time, and set out towards Buenos Aires.

I didn’t sleep a wink on the entire 11-hour flight. Nor did I on the previous 8 hours of flights and connections. By the end of the 19-hour journey I just wanted to go to crawl into bed. My eyes were burning from lack of sleep and recycled air; not to mention, I was at that beyond-tired stage that leaves u feeling physically ill. When we landed in Buenos Aires safe and sound, I thought, “At least I’m only tired; overall, I think I’ve done pretty well on my own. I’m so glad it’s all over and nothing horrendous happened”

That’s when everything went horribly wrong.

..

The plane landed at 9:30am; however, we were left stranded on the tarmac for some unknown reason. So we sat… and we sat. People were itching to get off the plane after such a long flight, and I thought I was going to be sick from the heat and exhaustion. At 10:10, 40 minutes after landing, they allowed us to begin unloading, and only then did they inform us what the problem was. Apparently, the ENTIRE Buenos Aires airport was malfunctioning and there was zero electricity! Not to worry, we were told, the immigration and customs offices were moving “just a little slower”. 

So we all walk off the plane into a dark airport. Luckily it was morning and some sunlight could come in, but, as soon as we shuffled downstairs to immigration, only a couple small overhead lights, from a backup generator, lit the path. It was 33 degrees outside, but with all the bodies and no AIRCONDITIONING, it was many degrees hotter in line. The escalators and elevators were out of service and flight crews had to try to carry people in wheelchairs down the large flight of stairs. Soon, more planes began unloading from other berths. This caused a rush as people from all directions started pushing their way haphazardly to the front (The “front” being the top of the broken escalators where guards stood to prevent people from going further). After about a half hour I pushed my exhausted body to the front of the line and made it down the escalators. I was lucky. The Aussie guy next to me had been there for 3 hours and had missed his connecting flight in the next terminal over. 

 At the bottom of the stairs, we had to wait in a line to pay for our visas on arrival. This process was excruciatingly slow considering all the computers were down. From there, I was pushed into another 2-hour line up, to make it through what I assumed was customs. We waited in a long hallway, in the dark, all squished together in the scorching heat of the EZE airport. My line, which was all foreigners from Canada, the USA and Australia, was pretty tame. Not much you can really do I guess! The Argentinean line, however, was in an outrage! Everyone was pushing, shoving, and shouting louder than the person next to them. It was chaos (and their line was twice as long)! After finally collecting my backpack (thank God it was there), I turned the corner towards the exit; there, I was faced with 3, GIANT lines for customs. You have got to be kidding me! 
Luckily, it wasn’t as bad as it appeared. Maybe 10 minutes and I was through the real exit. At this point, I have been on the ground for over 3 1/2 hours.

Hours awake: 24.

The rest of my dilemmas could have been avoided by three simple things: planning ahead, listening to my mother, and my following my experienced traveler’s voice. Unfortunately, I decided I was either too busy or too lazy to make it to the money exchange in Vancouver and get Pesos at a better rate. As well, I was too focused on booking flights and hostels that I didn’t really think about HOW to get anywhere. On top of that, I knew Adam would have my back when it came to a guidebook, so who really needs one in the first 4 days of the trip, right? 
So I walk out of the airport, into freedom, with absolutely ZERO Argentinean pesos. I have $11 American, 15 Brazilian Reais (thank you Cathy) and about $15 Canadian dollars (thank you mom). As for directions to the hostel, I have AN ADDRESS! That is all. No district, area, bus route, taxi cost, approximate distance from airport by car, nothing. 

But this is not an issue, because I know that I can go to the currency exchange or the ATM at the airport and grab some cash. Then I can flick on my iPod, connect to the free wireless Internet the EZE airport has so kindly offered, look up hostel directions, and then be on my way! Only problem: You need electricity for ALL of these things. All the staff at the currency exchanges were just hanging around with nothing to do. Computers were down; Zero exchanges were being made in any currency. ATMs: completely turned off without power. Wifi? Haha, forget about it! 
I don’t even know what the exchange rate is remotely CLOSE to! I thought of even finding an American who would switch me a dollar for some Pesos, but I had NO clue what I’d be getting.

So I go to the information desk and tell them my dilemma. Will the bus take Reais or Dollars? Can you give me a terrible exchange rate just so that I can get on a bus and get the Hell out of here? His response: “Hahaha! You’re fucked!” …Thanks buddy. 

So I’m sent to another terminal to check there. No luck. So I walk to Terminal C: nothing. Then, BEYOND Terminal C I see a bank, and it’s got power! Success! However… There is a line longer than rides at Disney land and by the time I wait five minutes, the whole bank is out of money. Is this really happening? 
 Then I think my luck is changing when some guy tells my there’s one exchange place open at the back of Terminal B. When I find it, I ask to change in the 10 American dollars I have and the attendant agrees! I’m ecstatic. I blabber on about how thankful I am, because I’ve been wandering through terminals forever now, when his computer shuts down too and tells me I’ll have to come back later. What! When? “I don’t know, an hour, maybe two, it’s hard to tell”. Jerk! Finally, I find this tiny coffee shop in the back of Terminal C that is using an old school cash register and has a chalkboard sign with the exchange rates of US Dollars, Euros and Reais. The girl behind the counter looks bored, now that the whole airport has essentially shut down, so I go talk to her. She speaks absolutely zero English, so I ask her in my best Spanish if I could buy a bottle of water and pay with American money. She says yes, but the change will have to be in Pesos… YES!!!!! 
I get some change, run out to the bus stop JUST as my number 8 bus arrives. How far is it to the center of town? I asked some guy in the airport earlier, “40 minutes, give or take, depending on traffic”. Not bad. AN HOUR AND FORTY-FIVE MINUTES later all I want to do in life is get off the goddamn bus! The map I grabbed at the airport is all gibberish to me, the streets all look the same, and the bus is so hot and crowded I think I’m about to die. Ironically, however, the first song that plays on my Ipod is Aloe Blacc’s “I Need A Dollar”. I’m so out of it, I find this hilarious and literally laugh out loud on the bus! (Thanks for the song suggestion Adam. Who knew it would be so appropriate!)

Hours awake: 28.5

I met some Japanese girl on the bus who made me feel slightly better about my predicament. She has been traveling for a year and a half now. By herself, she managed to bus from Bangkok to Turkey in an epic 10-month journey. From there, she made her way down through Africa and into Cape Town, South Africa: another 6 months by bus. She then flew to Morocco, made her way by boat to Italy, and hung out in Naples for a little while. Three weeks ago, two men ran up behind her, slashed her backpack off her back with a machete, and stole all her worldly belongings: clothing, toiletries, laptop, diary and photos! 
 As much as I can complain about electricity, things could have been a lot worse.

Hours awake as I’m writing this: 32.

Anyways, I’m surprised I’ve written out so much after such little sleep. I’ve now been awake for 32 hours and haven’t eaten in 12 (I’m on a roll!). So I’m off to find some food 🙂

To conclude: after a fantastic All-You-Can-Eat-Meat BBQ and a bottle of wine with my roommate Connor, I managed to get some shut-eye after an epic 40-hour day. As for the Japanese girl: back at the hostel, her new friends pulled together to donate as much as they could to her; hand-me-down clothes, a sleeping bag, a new backpack, the whole works. She then flew to Buenos Aires and has a further 7 months of traveling to go. Down through Patagonia, and then busing back up through South and Central America to San Francisco (Wow).