tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52221756654689713232024-03-13T20:12:55.741-03:00Handful Of ThrottleMark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.comBlogger243125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-71912386286504472022015-02-05T02:54:00.001-03:002015-02-05T02:54:21.063-03:00Last Days of The Trip...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Sanne</i><br />
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And so it came down to the final 2 weeks of our trip. After 5 continents and 42 countries we found ourselves in what was to become our last destination: California.<br />
As to not spend a lot of money we had become members of HelpX, a website that connects hosts and volunteers, similar to woofing in the sense that you work for board. We had arranged to do this on a horse ranch just north of LA in Tujunga Canyon. Our host was Barbara, a sweet, older lady who had been running The Lipizzaner Connection for many years. The ranch used to breed and perform Lipizzaner horses, the white horses they use at the Spanish Riding School in Vienna. She no longer breeds but still has horses on the ranch, a mix of Lipizzaners and other peoples horses.<br />
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Barbara picked us up from Burbank Train Station and took us straight to a supermarket where we were given $100 to do our food shopping. Without a shopping list or the faintest idea of what to get we had to think quickly and managed to hit the mark very closely - the bill rang in at $103.<br />
Afterwards we drove to the farm where Barbara took us to the cozy cabin that was going to be our home for the next 2 weeks.<br />
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The next day we started working. It wasn't back breaking work by any means; the work consisted of raking leaves, feeding horses, driving a tractor etc. Barbara kept reminding us "not to work too hard" and was really sweet. Sadly, her friend of many years and partner in the ranch had just passed away a few weeks beforehand of cancer and you could tell it was hard for Barbara to carry on without her friend's death so recent. We talked a lot, the three of us, of her friend and life and death and she told us she was grateful that we were there to help out and take her mind off things.<br />
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Life on the farm was good. We only worked 4-5 hours a day and had two days off a week. There wasn't a whole lot of work to do there so we did whatever we could see needed work, like cleaning the pool and sanding down and painting the sign out in front of the ranch. Barbara had a Mexican worker, Manuel who lived on the ranch with his family. They invited us to a Mexican fiesta one night as they were celebrating the birthday of his son. It was nice to get a chance to speak a bit of Spanish again although I can feel it disappearing quicker than I expected from my vocabulary. I think I will need to join a Spanish course upon my return to Oz in order for it not to disappear completely.<br />
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We enjoyed being in a country setting and were surprised how remote the ranch felt although it was just outside of LA. The ranch was situated in a canyon in the Angeles National Forest and when we weren't working we would go on day hikes on the trails in the area. It was a really relaxed, healthy lifestyle we had there. Pure and simple. It was also nice being around animals again, whether it was the horses, the donkey, the cat Mango that came to sleep with us in the cabin at night or the black labradors Willy and Holly, Holly that was just a big pup and waaay to excitable and Willy the older dog who after spending his whole life among horses now thought of himself as one and if you squatted down over his back he would start walking and grunting like a horse! There was also lots of chickens running around freely, some nights a coyote would come and take one and you would hear the commotion.<br />
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While we were here we contacted the shipping company to get an update on our bikes. They got back to us to tell us that the bikes were being held up in customs as they hadn't been given all the required paperwork from us; they needed a temporary import form that we should have been given in Miami but never received. Now they needed to create a temporary import and then cancel it straight away in order for the bikes to leave the country...bureaucracy! All this meant that the bikes never went on the ship they were meant to go on and so shipping became delayed. After all the times we have shipped the bikes, more often than not shipping is a headache. It just never seems to go after plan. Who knows when they will arrive in Australia as we do need them there for transport. <br />
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After two weeks the day had come when we had to leave the ranch and head to the airport for our flight back to Australia. Our looong flight that is. We had booked the tickets back in Colombia in October and had forgot how many hours of travel we had to do. Turns out it was around 35 hours! We could have chosen a much shorter direct flight from LA to Sydney but that would have been much more expensive and we simply couldn't afford to choose. Our flight route was: LA-Tokyo-Singapore-Sydney. I'll never do that again. It was horrible.<br />
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We landed in Sydney in the evening on January 16, feeling a little worse for wear after the long flight. Most of Mark's family was waiting for us in the arrival hall with hugs and kisses. It was absolutely fantastic to see them all again, all these people we had been missing for so long on the road, and we all went back to Uncle Colin's house near the beach where we spent the weekend eating, drinking, sailing on Sydney Harbour and swimming at Bronte. The sun was shining and the water was warm and I thought to myself: life is pretty good still...<br />
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As I sit writing this I am sitting on the couch in Mark's sisters home. We are back to reality and it's a strange feeling knowing that this is the very last blog post on Handful Of Throttle. The blog that I never wanted to start with but ended up enjoying to write. So, I feel that now is the appropriate moment for me to sum up the trip. To write a grand and poetic ending... But how do you summarise 4 years of travel? Two months shy of 4 years to be exact. 200 weeks and 3 days or 1403 days or 33,672 hours. That's a long time to be on the road. Some might even say life-changing. Well, yes and no. Mark and I are in many ways much the same people we were when we left, yet in other ways we are forever changed...<br />
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<em>"Once you have travelled, the voyage never ends, but is played out over and over again in the quietest chambers. The mind can never break off from the journey". </em></div>
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Our thoughts on life and how we see our future has changed. We both have new goals that we want to achieve (for once non-travel related) and we are going to give it our best to make it happen. The trip definitely contributed to this "clarity of mind" by putting everything into perspective and making us realise that we are the creators of our own luck and designers of our life. So why make life an average one? Why not try to make it the best life we can get? We already made one dream come true: to travel on our motorcycles around the world. Now we can tick that one off the list, it's time for the next dream. <br />
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I want to finish this blog by sending out a huge thank you to all the great and amazing people we met on the trip. You changed our trip for the better and made us see the world through someone else. <br />
I have learnt that the word 'Stranger' can so quickly turn to 'Friend'. People whom we would have probably never socialised with at home, unexpectedly became our comrades on the road. For when we travel, we become free to be who we really are. We start to live by a different set of rules somehow and all the irrelevant clutter that we worry about at home disappears and after a while living on the road we just...are. <br />
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The challenge for now for Mark and I is to adjust to "normal life" although I'm not so sure I know what that means anymore. One thing is for sure, travel is in our blood now and we will never stop travelling. And we will stay true to the motorbike as our mode of transport because travelling in a car is like watching a movie but travelling on a bike is like being<strong> in</strong> the movie.<br />
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Have a nice day. <br />
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<em>The Handful Of Throttle team - Mark & Sanne</em><br />
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List of countries visited:<br />
<ol>
<li>Australia</li>
<li>East timor</li>
<li>Indonesia</li>
<li>Malaysia </li>
<li>Singapore</li>
<li>Thailand</li>
<li>Laos</li>
<li>Cambodia</li>
<li>Nepal</li>
<li>India</li>
<li>Pakistan</li>
<li>Iran</li>
<li>Turkey</li>
<li>Greece</li>
<li>Bulgaria</li>
<li>Romania</li>
<li>Hungary</li>
<li>Austria</li>
<li>Italy</li>
<li>Slovenia</li>
<li>Croatia</li>
<li>Bosnia-Herzegovina</li>
<li>Switzerland</li>
<li>Monaco</li>
<li>Spain</li>
<li>Andorra</li>
<li>France</li>
<li>Belgium</li>
<li>Luxembourg</li>
<li>Holland</li>
<li>Germany</li>
<li>Denmark</li>
<li>United Kingdom</li>
<li>Argentina</li>
<li>Brazil</li>
<li>Uruguay</li>
<li>Chile</li>
<li>Bolivia</li>
<li>Peru</li>
<li>Ecuador</li>
<li>Colombia</li>
<li>USA</li>
</ol>
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Mark cleaning the pool in Tujunga Canyon</div>
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Me raking leaves in front of our cabin</div>
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Looking up Tujunga Canyon</div>
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Mark with Willy and Holly</div>
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Mark getting a ride from Willy</div>
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Then it's my turn!</div>
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Young Lipizzaner horse (they don't turn white until they are older)</div>
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And donkey</div>
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The "king" of the ranch - the stallion "Gunner"</div>
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Our house cat - Mango</div>
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Hiking in Tujunga Canyon</div>
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Mark driving the tractor in one of the arenas</div>
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Barbara with Holly and Skippy</div>
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Waiting for our flight in LAX</div>
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Back in Australia!</div>
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Good times!</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-38604746156586361242015-01-13T22:19:00.000-03:002015-01-29T20:40:40.882-03:00San Diego<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Mark</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
After Adam dropped us off at the bus station in what seemed like Little Mexico we waited patiently for our bus to arrive, within minutes we were bored of this charade and were already missing the bikes. Over an hour late we boarded our bus (we were the only non-Mexicans on board) for San Diego where our next ADV rider host was awaiting our arrival. After a long bus ride for the distance we were in San Diego. Our host Keith came to pick us up at the terminal.<br />
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Straight away he had us sightseeing, driving up around through the suburbs in his big bad arse Ford F350. It was dark when we arrived so Keith thought he should show us the Christmas lights that have been a favourite for the locals to visit for many years. My word - they were over the top! I am sure that they could be seen from outer space. They do not only put up lights here but they also make Christmas themed displays in the windows of their house, like something you would see in a department store. It was so busy navigating the busy streets so we decided it was time to head out for some dinner at one of the many local Mexican restaurants.<br />
Sitting down to dinner with Keith we got to know one another well and quite quickly as he likes to talk. After dinner he took us back to his humble abode, a 36 foot cruiser docked at the San Diego Yacht Club. What a great place to stay, we had access to the hot tub, sauna, swimming pool, bar and restaurant and gym (not that we ever used the gym). The best thing was the view, every morning waking up on the water was awesome, I could not get sick of that. The mornings were always still and calm and the sunsets were just as impressive.<br />
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Over the coming days we started to get a bit of a feel for San Diego, I really liked the whole laid back feeling to the place, especially around where we were staying and Ocean Beach. We went to check out the front of SeaWorld to see if there were many people rallying out the front but it was quiet and free of protesters. After the release of the movie Black Fish, SeaWorld has seen a massive decline in visitors to their parks around the USA where Orcas are being kept in very small confines. If you want to know more click <a href="http://www.seaworldofhurt.com/features/blackfish-documentary-exposes-seaworld/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
We had access to a couple of bicycles that Keith loaned to us so we also rode around the bay area, through the city and also Balboa Park which had some beautiful buildings and gardens. We also went to La Jolla where Keith showed us around the gorgeous coast line, parts that were lined with seals and Elephant seals. The tour finished of course with a few cold beers.<br />
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Our Christmas was a quite one, we were still with Keith and had been invited to one of his friends homes for lunch and meet up with some others later for dinner. Keith and I started pretty early with a couple of beers before we walked up to EJ's house who was holding the get together. Andy his wife put on an incredible spread which we gladly tucked into, including a few more cold ones to wash it all down with and not to forget dessert. EJ was a great guy, a 51 year old professional paddle boarder who puts many a young guy to shame out on the water, he also builds custom paddles for a living and he gave us a tour of his setup that he has in his garage. After a chilled afternoon hanging out with Keith's mates we headed out to dinner with Rick, Tamara and Rick's two kids Mo and Matt. We were still so full from lunch that we just had a snack for dinner and a few more beers. There was not too much drinking involved as I had been invited out to the desert the following day to go riding with Keith, Rick and his two kids along with another of their friends and his four kids. It had only been about one week since we had said goodbye to the bikes but I could not wait to throw a leg over a bike again, especially a dirt bike.<br />
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I woke to a stunning sunrise on the boat on Boxing day, Keith and I shot off early to get out to the dessert which was roughly a two hour drive away. When we showed up everybody else was already there. In total there was close to 15 bikes including quads to hoon around on. Most of the bikes were mini bikes for kids but there was also a Yamaha banshee quad, a YZ250f and a KTM200exc and of course Keith's WR250. I had a ball on the banshee hanging out sideways everywhere I went, it was so much fun but really I needed to be on 2 wheels! After a quick spin on the WR250 I got to throw a leg over the YZ250f, boy was that fun. It had been so long since I had been on a dirt bike, let alone one with no panniers or all that other unnecessary stuff. I did only have jeans, hoody and cons on so I had to take it easy but the bike begged to be ridden hard so I gave it some and the smile just got bigger on my face with every twist of the throttle. We were not alone out here though, being the day after xmas everybody had made their way out to try out their new xmas toys. Wow, was there some money out there. People were showing up in huge RVs, huge pick ups with toy haulers as they call them here. Luckily enough there is plenty of space to ride and not have problems with other riders, the same can not be said for Glamis dunes just down the road.<br />
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We also had the chance to get out onto the bay of San Diego for a bit of light sailing, I mean light because there was not much wind which made for easy sailing all the same, there was quite a few people on board so many hands to do the hard work and well my hands were left free to drink some rum!<br />
The time had come to part ways with Keith and head onto our next hosts, a younger couple than us who also ride and are part of ADV riders tent space. Funnily enough Keith said to us before we left that if we had any problems we could always call him and he would come get us and we could stay with him. So we met up with Anthony and Chelsea and they were a lovely couple if not a tad quiet. The next few days saw us heading around a different part of town, but by foot now. There are many cool places all over San Diego but we were now staying in enemy territory, the mighty hipsters were in high numbers here and well it was not a place for me to want to stay to long. As nice as our new hosts were it was so difficult to get any conversation going and with our time up here we called Keith and asked if we could stay with him until we left San Diego. Thankfully it was not a problem and the following morning he was parked out front ready and waiting in his big truck to take us back to his cosy boat.<br />
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Straight away we felt so comfortable being back in his company, the conversation flowed freely and it was all smiles and happy times, even more so knowing we had another chance to get out onto the water which Sanne passed up after a few too many beers on New Years eve. It was also a quiet affair. We started the night drinking with Keith on the boat and I cooked us all dinner before meeting up with some more of his friends on their yacht before later crashing the yacht club's new years shindig. It was funny to see how quick the place emptied out after midnight, the oldies just could not take too much partying and we stayed out until about 1.30am.<br />
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Well Sanne did not miss out on too much on the boat. It was a nice day out on the water but the wind was dead and we were meant to be participating in a friendly race. There were no shortage of others out on New Years day and in total about 50 boats were going to compete. We were the last to leave after some problems on the start line and by the time we got up the bay the decision was made to pull out and go eat and drink. I like that idea much more.<br />
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Sadly our time was drawing to a close so we made the most of it with a ride over to Sunset Cliffs to watch the sunset for our last night on the coast. It was just what we needed to wind down our past twelve days. We were so lucky to have gotten into contact with Keith and all his friends that all made us feel so welcome. Keith is such a great guy and we so hope to see him in Oz in the future, if not I am sure we will be back to crash on his boat again in the not so distant future. For now we have horses to attend to.<br />
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Chilling out looking over Sunset Cliffs, San Diego</div>
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Surfs up in OB</div>
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This big guy was hanging out around the local fisherman waiting for a little fish</div>
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Downtown San Diego</div>
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<span style="background-color: yellow;">USS</span> Midway, retired aircraft carrier</div>
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Balboa Park</div>
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Could not ask for a better view, and this was taken from the boat we were staying on</div>
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A few seals hanging out in La Jolla</div>
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The surf was going off on Christmas eve, here a few body surfers taking advantage of it</div>
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It's a hard life but someone has to do it.</div>
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La Jolla coastline</div>
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Ahhhh, sunshine</div>
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Hanging out at San Diego Yacht Club</div>
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Keith's boat</div>
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Sunset from our boat on Christmas eve</div>
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Sunrise from our boat</div>
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Desert riding time</div>
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My first ride on a Banshee and it was fun, I must say I prefer 2 wheels</div>
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I think it's this way back</div>
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This is a sign we came across in the desert for the Mexicans crossing the border into the USA illegally</div>
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Time for some sailing</div>
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Sanne with our awesome host Keith</div>
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Not a bad day out on the water to take in the city skyline</div>
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And we are sailing</div>
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Enjoying a meal with Keith on his cosy boat</div>
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Sunset Cliffs<br />
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-85766562888560554012015-01-09T23:02:00.002-03:002015-01-09T23:02:28.710-03:00LA LA Land<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Sanne</i><br />
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We left Nicole's house on a grey, rainy morning. Then a few miles down the road the sky seemed to be clearing up a little and we silently rejoiced. Then all the skies opened up and it started raining like there was no tomorrow... We were on the freeway and the rain was so heavy that the water couldn't drain off fast enough which resulted in us riding in water several inches deep...on a freeway. This was fairly unpleasant riding conditions and it was one of those times where you just think to yourself: Why oh why am I on a motorbike when I could be sitting in the warm, DRY confines of a car?! It sucked, no doubt about it. And this was our second-last day on the bikes on the entire TRIP! Surely if there was a God, he would have granted us some nice weather to finish on, but evidently there is no God or if there is he is relentless!<br />
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We eventually made it to the coast and the Pacific Coast Highway and started heading south. By then we were pretty much drenched and the rain barely stopped. Under normal circumstances we would have probably called it a day and found shelter in a motel but we really didn't have any time up our sleeves as we had to be in LA to clean the bikes before shipping them. Despite the weather we did however still manage to get some good views of the rugged coast and the road, all the while thinking how great a road this would be to ride...in the summer! We had decided to stay in the the same town that we stayed in on the way up, San Simeon and the closer we got the heavier the rain came down. By now we were already riding in the dark and the last 10 km's before town we were being blasted by the rain so much that it felt like the whole Pacific Ocean was coming in upon us. We could barely see a thing; the only thing we had to guide us in the right direction was the tail lights on the cars in front of us, and even they were hard to make out because of the heavy downpour, however the cars were soon pulling over on the side of the road because it really was that impossible to see anything to drive safely. It was by far the most rain we had experienced on the entire trip...and all that on the second last day! We arrived at the same hotel we had stayed at before, drenched and in need of a hot shower and dry clothes.<br />
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The next morning we set off for Los Angeles and the weather gods seemed to be more forgiving than the previous day so we rode most of the stretch without rain. We stopped in at Solvang, a small Danish city founded in 1911 by Danish settlers who wanted to establish a Danish colony far from the midwestern winters. It was funny enough to see a Danish-looking town with its very specific architecture and all , buuuut I really was there for one reason and one reason only: liquorice! As I am a liquorice addict and seeing as the only good liquorice in my opinion can be obtained in Denmark or Holland I have been severely starved of my vice for a long time. And whenever a shop calls themselves Danish it is usually very far removed from anything actually Danish. So I was skeptical when I walked into the candy store <i>"Ingeborg's". </i>However, to my surprise it was almost exactly like stepping into a candy store in Denmark. Except the prices were highly inflated and so I had to limit what I could purchase and bought only a few items which I carefully selected as this was my Xmas present!<br />
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Then it was on to LA and then the fun started; riding down the road I all of a sudden feel my rear tyre wobbling and getting out of shape and I quickly pull over and realize my tyre is completely flat. Great! The 2nd puncture on the ENTIRE trip and I get it on the last day of the trip! It was already late in the day and we still had about 100 km's to go so we (and when I say we I mean Mark - come one, I give credit when credit's due!) quickly replaced the tube with a new one and jumped on the bikes again. Our plan was to follow the PCH all the way down past Malibu but a few km's down the road we were met with a Road Closed sign. Awesome! Now we had to backtrack quite a way out to the freeway which was heaving with traffic and of course it was already dark by now. We stayed on the freeway for a while, then got off it and onto a road that took us over the Santa Monica Mountains. It was a great, windy road and would have been even better in daylight so we could have actually seen something, but it was small and barely any cars on it and we were much happier just being away from the freeway. Then, as we are descending down the mountain towards Malibu incident 2 happens: my rear brake is gone. Like, completely gone, nothing. This had happened once before, a week prior in Death Valley but we had somehow got it working again. Now here we were on a mountain top outside LA in complete darkness and with no back brakes. I had to ride with just my front brake to the bottom of the hill where oddly my back brakes returned. Hmm... Christine at her best! We are still no wiser as to why it did that; could have something to do with the cylinder...? Anyway, we were now officially in Malibu back on the PCH and we rode along the coast through the beach suburbs of Santa Monica and Venice; our old friend the rain had by now returned, just to make sure our very last km's on the bikes were nice and memorable! We passed LAX and arrived at Adam's place in El Segundo sometime in the evening. Adam was yet another ADV Rider who had been so kind to host us. This was to be our first time sleeping in a garage! Because living costs are so expensive in LA a lot of people live in garages converted into apartments. Adam's place was cozy and had everything we needed and he even gave up his bed for us and went to spend the night at his girlfriend's.<br />
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The next morning was cleaning the bikes time! Before we got started though we decided that we would go for a 'short' ride up to Malibu and back, seeing as we had come in late the previous night and not seen a thing. On the map it really didn't look that far from where we were so we figured we could go for a quick blast up there and come back in a couple of hours and then start cleaning the bikes. Well, it might not have looked that far on the map but we clearly hadn't taken into account how spread out LA is and how much traffic is on the road... It took us two damn hours just to <b>get</b> to Malibu! At least the weather was nice.<br />
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On the way there we stopped in at Deus Ex Machina in Venice Beach. We had been to the Deus showroom in Bali and had met the owner and they had been really good to us, sending a guy out to find a battery for my bike which took him several hours and they only charged us for the cost of the battery (our post about that here: <a href="http://handfulofthrottle.blogspot.com/2011/10/deus-ex-machina.html" target="_blank">http://handfulofthrottle.blogspot.com/2011/10/deus-ex-machina.html</a>) So we were really looking forward to checking out their showroom in Venice Beach. Well...was that a disappointment. Deus Ex Machina, Venice Beach is surely where hipsters must come to die. It was not so much a motorcycle store as an allround hipster <i>scene</i>. The store was full of pretentious hipster douchebags who all looked like they had never been atop a motorbike before. But you could kind of understand their confusion - it didn't look anything like a motorcycle store. There was maybe three bikes in there, only one of them for sale, the rest of the store was apparel, and I'm not talking motorcycle apparel here, just hipster fashion, oh and not to forget - skin care products for men! I mean, seriously? I have yet to meet a straight man who cares about toners and moisturizers let alone someone who would buy them at a motorcycle shop. It was a confusing place, half store-half cafe and all these self-proclaimed cool kids (who again I'm sure do <b>not</b> ride motorbikes) hanging out, drinking mocha-frappe-latte's while updating their Instagram with an impossibly cool photo of said latte, hashtagging like crazy. I was half surprised not to see anyone typing away on an old-fashioned type-writer (they all had mac's) but there was definitely no shortage of hipster beards. I'm pretty confident to say that we were the only motorbikers in the store and yet not a single person approached us to ask if we needed anything or even acknowledged our presence. Our un-hipsterism must have been an offense to them and a stain on their uber-cool space. Or maybe they took one look at Mark and decided that he was probably not going to buy any skincare products. I have never in my life felt quite so snubbed before and this by people 10 years my junior. Anyway, we both found it kind of hilarious the whole pretentiousness, and we departed the store, sorry <i>space</i>, and vowed to never, ever step foot inside that horrible place again.<br />
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Once in Malibu we rode up the mountain road we had come down on the previous night but we really didn't have the time to spend around here as we had to get the bikes to the shipping warehouse on the Friday and this was Wednesday and we had a big job ahead of us to clean the bikes. It also would have been cool to ride further along the coast in Malibu but as it was we turned around and rode back to El Segundo, stopping on the way to take photos of the coast line and Malibu beach houses (although the real nice ones are mostly hidden away so no celebrity spotting!) We didn't get back to El Segundo until mid-afternoon so we got stuck into hosing the bikes down and cleaning them. We did that for a few hours until it got dark and Adam came home. Adam then took us out for dinner at a local restaurant Rock & Brews which is owned by the guys from KISS. It was a pretty cool place which lots of nice beers and thankfully they had veggie food!<br />
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The next day we spent ALL day cleaning the bikes religiously. The reason for our obsessive cleaning is that when shipping the bikes back to Australia, they have to be immaculately clean, like new. The Australian quarantine is very strict and if they find a bit of dirt left on the bikes they will steam clean them and charge $175 per bike for doing it! So we worked very very hard to clean them the best we could, taking many parts off in order to get to hard to reach areas. We think we did a pretty good job, I seriously hope we did anyway! Time will tell... Friday morning we finished off the cleaning and borrowed Adam's pick-up truck to take them to Schumacher Cargo's warehouse. There we said goodbye to the babies and were given a little tour around the warehouse which was full of bikes and cars - lots of them expensive and vintage - Elvis' old limousine was even in there. This made us feel a bit more reassured that it was a well-established company to go with, unlike the arseholes we chose to ship with in London! It was kind of sad and weird saying goodbye to the bikes but it didn't really feel like it was the end of the trip (even though it is). I guess since we'll still be using the bikes for transport when we get home and still will be travelling a little bit on them in Australia, it's not really the end...right...??? Or maybe I'm just delusional and don't want to think about going back to "reality". God, don't you just hate that word??? Reality. Pfft! Give me illusion any day I say!<br />
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Since the bikes were now at the warehouse and we had spent all our time in LA cleaning, we really hadn't seen any of the city yet (apart from hipster central Douche Deus). So Adam was so kind to say that of course we could use his car to drive around the city as he was usually using his bike everywhere he went. So on the Saturday we drove up to Venice Beach, parked up and walked along the famous promenade along the beach all the way to Santa Monica pier. We sat and watched the skaters, surfers and freaks and weirdos (of which there are a-plenty here!) Venice Beach seems to be a melting pot of freaky people which makes it a great spot for people watching. We even saw a bearded lady there and a werewolf...and I'm not even joking!<br />
From the 90-year-old bodybuilder pumping iron at Muscle Beach to the eclectic street vendors where you can fish for a bag of weed, this place is really something else! Definitely worth a visit if you're in the area. We walked back along the canals set a few blocks away from the beach.<br />
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Next stop was Beverly Hills where we definitely felt out of place! Driving up Rodeo Drive in Adam's old beat-up truck with rust holes we were definitely the Beverly Hillbillies alright. All the cars around us were either Lamborghini's, Ferrari's or some other fancy car costing a fortune. Very flash area indeed. Then we went to Hollywood and cruised down Sunset Boulevard, past famous bars such as The Viper Room (where River Phoenix OD'd), Whiskey a Go Go and The Rainbow (where apparently Lemmy from Motorhead is a regular at the Keno machine!) Unfortunately we didn't have the time to say hello to Lemmy, maybe another time. We did the touristy thing of checking out the stars on Hollywood Boulevard and saw Alan from The Hangover posing with a baby. Kind of weird.<br />
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We then drove up to Mulholland Drive to get a view of the city. By now it was already dark so couldn't get a good photo of the Hollywood sign but we did get a good photo of LA by night. We then drove west on Mulholland all the time wishing we were on our bikes as this road is very windy - perfect for a motorbike! Oh well, next time... We took a wrong turn somewhere on Mulholland and realized after a while that we were in fact heading north, not west. We eventually made it back on the right track but now we found ourselves on the dreaded 405 Freeway which even though it being a Saturday night was as busy as was it peak hour.<br />
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The next day we said goodbye to Adam, our brilliant host, and left for San Diego. We weren't too sad to see the back of LA. It is a complete clauster f**k. Too many people, too big a city and it takes forever to get anywhere. The City of Angels...well, I didn't find it to be that exactly.<br />
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The Pacific Coast Highway</div>
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The rain clouds were chasing us all day</div>
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Ecstatic joy that I found actual Danish liqourice</div>
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Loser, I know...</div>
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Puncture with impeccable timing!</div>
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The road over the Santa Monica Mountains leading down to Malibu</div>
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Malibu</div>
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Adam's garage in El Segundo</div>
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Busy at work!</div>
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Bye bye babies!</div>
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Venice Beach</div>
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Lots of surfers in the line-up!</div>
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Venice pier</div>
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Skaters at Venice Beach</div>
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I want his shoes</div>
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The "Green" Doctors</div>
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Baywatch anyone?</div>
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Mark at Santa Monica pier</div>
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Selfie time!</div>
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Route 66 ends here</div>
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Mark refused to pose as Mitch so you only get the car</div>
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I on the other hand posed as Pamela (except I'm missing my swimsuit and two other biiig assets!)</div>
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The Venice canals</div>
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Rodeo Drive, baby!</div>
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Julia Roberts fans might recognize the Beverly Wilshire Hotel from Pretty Woman</div>
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Street in Hollywood</div>
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Walk of Fame on Hollywood Boulevard</div>
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The Chinese Theatre, Hollywood</div>
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It's Alan!</div>
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LA seen from Mulholland Drive</div>
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Saying goodbye to our great host Adam!</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-12251088051470424962014-12-27T23:44:00.000-03:002014-12-27T23:50:05.196-03:00The Pacific Coast & San Francisco<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Mark</i><br />
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Before we parted ways with Tolga and Caglar we pulled out our maps of Sth America and showed the guys some good places to visit and roads to take when they start heading south. As we mention to most people we also told these guys: learn as much Spanish as you can. The more you can communicate with the locals the better your trip will be. Sadly having a deadline for one of the first times on the entire trip we could not hang around any longer in Death Valley. We parted ways with the boys and headed west for the Pacific Coast and San Francisco.<br />
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After leaving late in the day we found ourselves riding through some beautiful and quiet back roads of California headed due west. We had plans to stay at Miracle Hot springs and when we arrived we found all the campgrounds were closed for winter already. Being so late in the day we were not going to start riding into the night to find another place so we set up camp all the same down by the river. The following morning after another cold night's camping we went looking for the hot springs but we worked out how the place got it's name, it would be a Miracle if you could actually find the hot springs!<br />
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We wanted to hit the coast and make our way up the famous Pacific Coast Hwy 1 and spend a night camping up in Big Sur but we under-estimated the distance and hit the coast later in the afternoon than expected, we also learnt that the whole sth coast was expected to get hit with high winds and torrential rain. We opted to spend a night in a motel room as there is nothing we hate more than waking up to the sound of rain and then having to try and pack up a tent in it. That night we kept a close eye on what the weather was expected to do over the coming days and it was not looking good for our visit to San Francisco, the bay area was to be hit the hardest. Apparently this was going to be the worst storm to hit Caifornia in years. The following morning we contacted our next host Nicole and she informed us it was not looking like a good day to be on the bike so we bunkered down one more day in the motel room.<br />
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The following morning it was still raining when we got up but luckily by the time we jumped on the bikes it had stopped. We headed north up the coastline and after only being on the bikes for no more than 15 minutes we pulled up on the side of the road to check out an incredible sight of Elephant Seals all hanging out on a patch of beach by the road side and some were swimming in a fresh water hole. It was fantastic to be so up close and personal with the fascinating creatures. We have seen them before on our trip down in Argentina but we never had the opportunity to get as close as we did here. They were so curious of us which made for many great photos. We both had to drag ourselves away from them as we had a big day ahead of us and we still did not even know if we would have problems with road closures from the storm the previous day.<br />
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Another 15 minutes later we came across our first road closure; we ignored it and rode on around the barrier, to back track now would have seen us arriving at night in San Fran. We rode slowly to check out the scenario but the roads had been cleared from the previous night's land slides already, they had just not got back to move the signs so we continued on. The road was built for a bike, in places it hugs to the edge of the mountain-side twisting and turning along the rough coast line with everything of beautiful green pastures, rocky coastline and then into the tall forests of the Big Sur. By this stage the rain returned and we had to just keep motoring on through. After another road closure or two we had finally passed the best of what the Highway 1 had to offer. We made our way up to San Jose stopping briefly at the loacl BMW dealer to pick up a part for my younger brother;s next motorcycle project. They were quite surprised at how far we had come on our little Suzukis and suggested the 1200 GS, I just laughed at the guy and told him never in a million years would I buy such a bike! He was not too impressed but I told him it is just not needed, such a large bike.<br />
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We arrived in San Francisco to a cold, grey afternoon and our host Nicole was home to welcome us. This was to be our first female ADV rider host and we were looking forward to get to know her. It turned out she was an awesome chick and we sat chatting all evening having a few drinks and eating some nice Indian food and planned what to do over the next few days. Nicole assured us that we could stay as long as we wanted but as we had that stupid deadline for shipping the bikes we really only had time to spend a few days there. Saturday morning Nicole's friend Robin came over with her car and she and Nicole were our tour guides driving us around town, starting at the local pub where they made some great local beers where we got to sample each one for free before deciding which one we wanted. Not a good way to start the day as I just had to pee constantly for the rest of the day. As we were staying in Alameda we had to cross the Oakland Bay Bridge to get to San Fran, we thought being a Saturday afternoon it would not be too busy but the traffic was absolutely heaving. It took us a long time to cross the city and head over to the Golden Gate Bridge to get the obligatory photos but it was all worth it when we saw the iconic bridge. It really is a beautiful structure and its red colour stands out like a stark contrast to the surroundings. It was late afternoon by the time we left Golden Gate and the mercury was already dropping fast, thankfully we were being chauffeured around in a car and not on our bikes!<br />
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We headed back to check out the city and the centre was overrun with Uni students dressed up as Santa for the yearly "Santa Con". They must have started early as it was only just after six and there were already a few who could not keep the pace and had emptied their stomachs onto the sidewalks to keep on going. We also came across an old homeless woman taking a sh*t on the street which was something I could have done without seeing. With all the drunk santas out in the street, most places were super crowded so the girls took us to China Town for a look around, stopping at a couple of bars before heading back over the bay to Alameda for one more stop at another pub, Lucky 13. This was my kind of bar; good beer and good music all spent in great company with Nicole and Robin who were keeping us entertained with their hilarious banter like were they a comic duo..<br />
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We were in two minds if we should have left the following day as it was sunny and dry and would have made for a great ride back down the coast. But since we had not really had a chance to see much of the city we decided to stay and headed into the city again, this time by ourselves. We took the ferry across the bay into town and then proceeded to see as much of the city as we could. We jumped on the first tram we could and headed up the hill from where there are many spots to take in the sights over the entire city before walking on down to the old hippy area of Haight Ashbury, a real hippy scene back in the sixties, it is now home to all sorts of people and has a pretty laid back feel and relaxed laws as there was many a person smoking up and openly selling weed on the street. This is also the first place we came across where you can get your Medical Marijuana card, the laws on the possession of weed in America are changing rapidly and is very different from state to state so I will not go into details here, although I will say that it seemed to be very tolerated in this little part of California, although at the moment it is only marijuana for medical use that is legal. In other states like Colorado, Washington and Oregon marijuana has been fully legalized to include recreational use and people say that California will probably follow in the next few years.<br />
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After spending a little time here we took off to Alamo Square, one of the most photographed areas in all of San Fran and admired the view over the city. Again not having enough time up our sleeve we were on a mission to get over to the other side of the city to check out other places. Having a deadline to get on the ferry back to Alameda we power-walked our way around the city, visiting windy Lombard Street which was indeed very windy but also very touristy and when we got there after walking for miles it was a bit like:<i> OK, it's windy. Now let's go</i>. We finishing the day on one of the traditional trams. While we are queuing up to board a tram, an older Asian man blatantly jumps the queue and board the already full tram together with his wife and child. Surprisingly nobody in the line says a thing so not being one to stand for it I pipe up! <i>Hey hey hey, what do you think you are doing?!</i> This guy actually thought he could just jump the line. I said W<i>hat do you think we are all doing here in line?</i> <i>Man, just get off and get back to the end of the line!</i> He was not too impressed and pretended not to get the whole idea of a queue, he was like <i>I don't understand?! </i>but he got off all the same. I was met with a few thank you's from the surrounding people who were all too polite to stand up to the queue jumper. Well, not me!<br />
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After our tram ride through the city we ran for the last ferry where Nicole picked us up. For her very warm welcome into her home and for hospitality I cooked up a big feed of Mexican to say thanks. We sat up late chatting before retiring to bed. We awoke the following day to rain once again, another wet day and another wet ride for us, on our second last day of the trip. Awesome! San Francisco is definitely a place with a very cool vibe that we would both like to go back to...in the summer.<br />
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Miracle Hot Springs...apparently</div>
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Newspaper stands</div>
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The article about the storm that was hitting the coast named The Pineapple Express</div>
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Driving north on the Pacific Coast Highway</div>
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The group of Elephant Seals lounging in the sun</div>
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Think this big guy was the leader of the harem, just compare him to the size of the other seals around him</div>
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There were a few biffs happening too</div>
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Curious little seal with big eyes</div>
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Hanging out in San Francisco with Nicole and her friend Robin</div>
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Golden Gate Bridge</div>
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Santa Con taking over the streets of SF</div>
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China Town</div>
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On the ferry from Oakland to San Francisco</div>
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The Oakland Bay Bridge</div>
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Had to get a photo in of the silly little postie vans they use to deliver the mail here in the US, look just like Postman Pat's car</div>
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Haight Ashbury, hippie mecca of the sixties</div>
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Something we started seeing a lot</div>
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Very colourful houses in this area of SF</div>
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Alamo Square, the famous row of terraced houses with the SF skyline in the background</div>
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Retro tram still running</div>
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The streets here are very steep!</div>
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Windy Lombard Street on a 27 degree angle with 8 hairpin turns</div>
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On the tram!</div>
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Oncoming tram seen from aboard our tram</div>
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Hanging on for dear life</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-24211529071226525772014-12-27T00:07:00.001-03:002014-12-27T00:11:08.034-03:00What happens in Vegas...we blog about!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Sanne</i><br />
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I never thought I would say this, but here we go: I LOVE Vegas, man!<br />
I have never understood the fascination of throwing my money at pokie machines or roulette tables etc. Hence why I was never really that excited about going to what ought to be Mecca for ludomaniacs worldwide - the City of Sin. But I figured that you can't go to the US and NOT go to Vegas so here we were, riding into this dessert dustbowl.<br />
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First though we made a stop at world famous Hoover Dam, about 50 km's south of Vegas. Completed in 1936 on the Arizona-Nevada border on the Colorado River it provides power for Nevada, Arizona and California. It is a major tourist attraction - nearly 1 million people visit the dam every year. The highway used to go over the road on the dam until 2010 when a bridge was built to make a bypass.<br />
As with most dams, the construction of the Hoover Dam has had a large impact on the ecosystem of the Colorado River with many species now considered endangered.<br />
Seen from an engineering perspective the dam is impressive. Lucky for us it was free to visit and ride and walk over the dam. The water level was pretty low and we understood that it has been declining every year.<br />
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We rode the last 50 kms into Vegas and on to ADV Rider Matt's house. Matt is an airplane mechanic for the army and had not long ago returned home from the Middle East. He turned out to be an awesome guy, super helpful and fun. We had ordered new rear tyres to be sent to his house but they still hadn't arrived so instead we took out Mark's rear shock which had had it's seal blown and lost its oil and replaced it with a new one which we found through one of Matt's contacts. Matt was indeed The Man. Any little thing we needed, he always seemed to know someone who could fix it. Like my jacket which hadn't had a functional zipper in it for about a month and which could only be closed with the 5 or 6 safety pins I had pinned though the textile - total povo style. I tried to get it fixed in Austin, Texas but they either asked for a ridiculous amount of money or a ridiculous amount of time - 1 week to do a 15 minute job, come on. But enter Matt, he takes us to a guy he knows who does upholstering on old cars and he sew a new zip in for me on the spot for $10. Sweet! I felt like a had a new jacket!<br />
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Matt took us downtown to see Vegas. He showed us the main strip but instead of going out there we went to the more local part of Vegas called "Freemont Street". Here he took us to a very em... <i>interesting</i> bar called Hogs and Heifers. Now, if you've seen the movie Coyote Ugly, this is the bar the movie is based on. The girls in there are super rude to the not surprising dominantly male clientele. They would regularly grab the megaphone and proceed to humiliate any given man for no particular reason. As marginally fun as it was to see the girls swear and carry on in between downing multiple shots, what let the place down was it's choice of music. It was <i>country</i> time indeed. And if there is a genre I just really can't stand - it's country. Most of the people in the bar did seem to like the music however, not surprising really as they were cowboys. Turns out we had timed our visit to Sin City to coincide with an event someone described to me as "the olympics of rodeo". The streets were full of cowboys, and these looked like they just stepped off the prairie, minus the six-shooter. They were wearing Wrangler jeans tucked into cowboy boots and big, wide-brimmed hats and that silly little string they tie around their necks. It was textbook cowboy-style. Yee-haa indeed.<br />
They seemed to all have a jolly good time, so when the bar girls at Hogs and Heifers were pulling up girls to dance on the bar (<i>just like in the movie!</i>) I wisely declined as I wasn't nearly drunk enough for that kinda stuff. Luckily one of the older cowboys' middle-aged wife was drunk enough and up she got on the bar and the next second she had her fairly massive bosoms out in the open as she took off her bra and swung it over above the bar to where all the other bras were hanging (that's a thing here, they have hundreds if not thousands of bras hanging above the bar). As I said - I wasn't nearly drunk enough.<br />
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The next day our tyres arrived and once they were fitted we embarked on yet another visit downtown with Matt in his huge truck - the motto in the US when it comes to cars definitely seems to be "Bigger is Better"! This time we went to the main strip where all the big casinos such as Caesar's Palace, MGM Grand and The Bellagio are. I felt a bit like a stunned deer in the headlights. There are <b>sooo</b> many lights. I don't know if it's true that the lights from the strip can be seen from space but I am sure that the electricity bill would have to be huuuge here. Not that I think money would be an issue as there were plenty of people out and about. We first went to The Venetian which is probably my favourite. It is decorated like Venice with canals and gondolas and even has a copy of the Rialto Bridge.<br />
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We left The Venetian and walked further down the strip while admiring a fake volcano spurting out lava and fire, The Eiffel Tower, a giant roller coaster running on the outside of a casino and of course the famous Fountains of Bellagio. Then we headed to the casino The Cosmopolitan to do what Vegas is all about - to gamble baby! Matt's housemate had given us some vouchers so we didn't have to spend any of our own money to gamble with which was good as we didn't have any! We sat down at the pokie machines and started pushing the button over and over again, and who would've thought - I actually won something! OK, it was just $71 but for someone who NEVER wins anything I was delighted with my win and bought us all dinner. Mark didn't win a dime but at least we got a couple of free drinks out of it as the thing in Vegas is that you get free drinks while you play, so I had the world's smallest Cosmopolitan and the boys had some other fancy cocktail...when in Vegas...<br />
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The other thing I observed on the Vegas strip was the amount of...freaks. You have the people who get dressed up as Playboy Bunnies or Transformers and that sort of thing and you can a photo taken with them and you pay them which is how they make their money. But then you have the weirdo's who look like they should be locked up in a mental institution instead of flaunting their stuff on the streets of Vegas. Among others we saw an old man wearing nothing but his underpants, an overweight dude in a Playboy Bunny costume and then there was the young, fat girl being topless and wearing a tutu skirt dancing around like a ballerina. Not pretty.<br />
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Vegas was exactly what I imagined Vegas to be: WAY over the top and party 24//7. But I loved that it was so unashamedly...Vegas. I definitely want to come back. This would be a great place to come with a bunch of your friends and just party it up! And no, we didn't get married :)<br />
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After leaving Vegas and bidding farewell to Matt who we hope comes to see us in Oz, we rode to Death Valley, California. Here we had arranged to meet up with Tolga and Caglar, two Turkish bikers.. We had met Tolga back in 2012 when we couchsurfed at his place in Istanbul. Back then he was dreaming of going on a big bike trip and now he was actually doing it which was great to see. He has been sponsored by pretty much every company you can think of and even got a free bike from KTM Turkey.<br />
Mark and I arrived in Death Valley in the afternoon and found a small track where we set up camp. We had already had dinner and gone to bed when the two others arrived after dark. They had ridden 600 km's that day, half of it in the dark, just to get to us.<br />
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The next day we were interviewed for the Turkish television show that Tolga and Caglar were shooting for. It has been a while since we were last interviewed, I think last time was in Bolivia, but as most people tend to ask all the same things we usually have the answers on autopilot. After our 15 mins of fame the four of us rode to Titus Canyon and on to Panamint Springs where we set up camp. Here we met a group of dirtbikers who invited us for some drinks in their camp and we spent the night chatting and drinking rum and coke which I usually don't like, but hey when you're in good company anything tastes good!<br />
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Entering Nevada!</div>
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Hoover Dam</div>
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The Hoover Dam Bypass</div>
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Matt and Mark changing the suspension on his bike</div>
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Nice and bald tyre in desperate need for a change!</div>
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Mark on Matt's Bagger...</div>
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The famous Las Vegas sign</div>
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The Vegas Strip</div>
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Paris, Nevada</div>
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The Arc de Triomphe</div>
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The giant Harley store in Vegas</div>
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The Venetian</div>
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This is<i> inside</i> The Venetian</div>
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Some of the more interesting "shows" in Vegas are out on the streets</div>
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And then of course you have the god-botherers...someone should tell them they're fighting a lost cause in Vegas</div>
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The Fountains of Bellagio</div>
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Stoked with my win!</div>
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This one is just drunk</div>
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Aww..someone didn't win???</div>
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Creepy Asian dude at the craps table</div>
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Another casino that is decorated like NYC streets</div>
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And a fairytale castle...</div>
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Statue of Liberty</div>
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The Thunder from Downunder!</div>
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Outside Vegas on the way to Death Valley</div>
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Death Valley, California</div>
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Tolga and Caglar</div>
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Looking out over Death Valley from Dante's view</div>
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All of us</div>
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Titus Canyon</div>
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Mark and Tolga riding together</div>
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Camping at Panamint Springs</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-79101309922002440822014-12-11T17:03:00.002-03:002014-12-11T17:03:41.796-03:00New Mexico and Arizona<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>By Sanne</i><br />
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We were officially in New Mexico, the state of the first nuclear bomb, aliens and Breaking Bad.<br />
After having ridden through a nice bit of dirt ranch roads that took us from Texas to New Mexico we arrived at White Sands National Monument. White Sands is an area with sand dunes as white as snow rising up in the middle of the dessert. We got in for free, I think because it was late in the day, and had a wander around. We met a really cool local family with the two funniest boys who talked about how creepy Ronald McDonald was. White Sands sits right next to a missile testing range and nearby is the spot where the world's first nuclear bomb was tested in 1945.<br />
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The woman at the park office told us about a free camp spot only a few miles up the road and as we are ever trying to save money we took the opportunity to camp there. There wasn't much there but it was free and no one around except prariedogs bustling around after dark. Prairie dogs aren't actually dog for those of you who don't know, they're a rodent who looks a bit like meercats. <a href="http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/z/prairie-dog-2407534.jpg" target="_blank">This</a> is what they look like.<br />
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Next day we rode further west to the town named: Truth or Consequences. The story goes that this small town used to be known as Hot Springs but changed its name after a radio show named Truth or Consequences did a competition to see if they could get a town to rename itself after the name of the show. Here we decided to stay in a motel for only the second time in the US. We were lazy and though we needed a treat basically which I guess we deserved after freezing out butts off so much lately. It costs about $45 so it wasn't massively expensive anyway. After a nice and warm night's sleep, only interrupted by the rants of some crazy woman in the hallway, we left Truth or Consequences to ride through Gila National Forest which proved to be one of the most scenic rides so far in the US. The road took us up into pine forests and was so windy that I actually became motion sick! In my defense I had already been a little nauseous in the morning but this road did definitely not make it any better! So I was glad when the road turned into dirt and started stretching out a bit more. The weather was great, blue skies and the sun warming our skin under our heavy motorcycle gear. That was until we hit the snow line and the road in front of us was ice. We rode carefully over it and luckily the ice didn't last for long as we started descending again. This was thanksgiving weekend and many hunters were out and about, always dressed in top-to-toe camo gear of course. We took a small track off the road and set the tent up next to a firepit and then started collecting a massive pile of firewood to last us through the cold night. We ended up needing less than half of what we had collected but at least there will be more than enough for the next person who comes through!<br />
We woke up in the morning to shots in the distance from hunters but we're pretty used to that by now, having camped in so many forests and it being hunting season. We just hope they don't mistake us for deers!<br />
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We crossed the state border to Arizona and rode to Grand Canyon. We always imagined Grand Canyon to be a giant hole in the ground in a big flat landscape but we were surprised to see thet it was surrounded by mountains and forest! We came in late in the afternoon so we camped just outside the park boundary and came back the next morning to take a look around. And it really is a stunning place. The sheer scale of the Grand Canyon is quite overwhelming. Carved by the Colorado River the canyon is 446 kms long, up to 29 kms wide and nearly 2 kms deep. If we had had more time there I would have liked to go down into the canyon and camp down there. Inside the canyon it is about 10 degrees warmer than at the top.<br />
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After Gran Canyon we rode south again to Flagstaff which was freezing, did our shopping at the local Walmart (which by the way has been very disappointing in the <u>lack of</u> freaks as seen on <i>People of Walmart</i>) and then on to Sedona which we thought was going to be warmer but sadly wasn't. It was getting late and so we pulled in to a campsite next to the road and found out it was $20 per night for nothing more than a spot to put your tent. We were about to head off to find another place to camp when the woman running the camp offered to cough up $10 to halve the fee. We declined but she insisted - she did not want to see us riding into the night (it was already dark by then) trying to find a place to camp. So because of this kind woman, Steph, an astronomer from New Mexico, we had a place to sleep for the night. Here we also met a really cool couple from Colorado, Jamie and Lea who were there to ride their mountain bikes around the Sedona area which is meant to be a great place for mountain biking. We all kept warm in front of the campfire of two Texans who invited us all up to have a "Dutch Oven" which we found out has an entirely different meaning here than where we come from - here it simply means baking a cake in a casserole on the fire...so instead of getting high we had a bread and butter pudding! We had some interesting discussions on guns (what else!?) and I was glad to finally have met some Americans who are anti-guns (not the Texans obviously) as travelling through the South you can be forgiven for thinking that <u>every</u> American is pro-gun. It seems that the closer we get to the coast again people's attitudes are changing slightly. Which is good! It was a really cold night again and Jamie and Lea very kindly gave us some heat packs to keep us warm which I have tried before. Well, now I wish I knew about these things when I was in Ushuaia! They are awesome. I stayed warm and toasty that night and Jamie and Lea gave us another six the next morning to take with us that's how cool these guys were!<br />
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Sedona was a nice area but because the weather wasn't the best we didn't hang around too long and started heading north west towards Vegas where we had an ADV rider to stay with. We rode a bit of the Route 66 which is now split into other roads so it's not the easiest to find but we did manage to get a photo taken of the Route 66 painted on the road. We were headed for Vegas, baby...<br />
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White Sands National Monument, New Mexico<br />
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Some hilarious kids we met</div>
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Another free camp spot</div>
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Yucca plant, very common in the dessert</div>
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The oddly named town 'Truth or Consequences'</div>
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Gila National Forest<br />
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So who's idea was it to travel through the US in winter anyway???</div>
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Setting up camp</div>
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Thank god for firewood!</div>
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We never saw the sign when we entered the state so this is actually taken as we leave New Mexico</div>
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And then we cross into the next state: Arizona!</div>
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Grand Canyon</div>
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Camping outside Sedona - here with Jamie and Lea</div>
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A cold and grey day on Route 66</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-58362256000241402602014-11-30T01:58:00.001-03:002014-11-30T01:58:15.505-03:00These colours don't run<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Mark</i><br />
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After crossing into Texas the weather deteriorated even further with the mercury dropping with each mile covered until we had just had enough. Our plan was to camp in a state forest but it was not going to happen in this weather. So we headed straight for the nearest motel. We were wet all the way through and were in need of warming up. We found a cheap enough motel with a big warm comfy bed and endless hot water!<br />
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After making good use of all amenities we stuffed our faces with snacks and enjoyed the comfort of a warm dry place to lay our weary cold bones. Our neighbours seemed to be the local drug dealers with cars coming and going all evening even to the point of being woken up by them at 4am the following morning. We did however wake to lovely blue skies but the temperature was low so we rugged up for our ride to Austin.<br />
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The ride to Austin was noting noteworthy, we left too late from our motel room wanting to get our monies worth but it back fired when we arrived smack bang in the middle of peak hour traffic in Austin. We had lined up another place to stay through ADV Rider Tent Space and were met by Paul, the friend of our host Luke who was also visiting. Sorry for taking your bed Paul! Our time in Austin was spent getting some new spares for the bikes, a new water proof jacket (could have done with that the day prior) and changing brake pads. Sadly we did not get to see much of the city but our host said that really there was not a whole lot to see and being mid week no gigs to go to either which Austin is meant to be well known for - its live music. We enjoyed Luke and Paul's company and of course Bruce, Paul's very friendly dog. We had decided that we would keep heading south west down to Big Bend National Park after Luke saying it was well worth a visit, that and also because it should be much warmer.<br />
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After two lovely warm nights in a dry warm bed we were out on the road again finally finding some twisty sections of road. As far as the riding here in the southern states goes it has been kind of boring with long straight stretches that have been wearing us down and our rear tyres very quickly. Finally we were in the Texas Hill Country with a few twists and turns to keep us happy for a lovely day's ride. We have been using another website lately called <a href="http://www.freecampsites.net/" target="_blank">www.freecampsites.net</a> and it has become very helpful so we put it to good use staying at a 24 hr rest areas among other places. At this one particular 24hr site there were a few signs saying that you can stay 24hrs but there is to be no erecting of any tents or shelters, great! Well we paid no attention to it and went and set up camp behind some trees way up the back and had a peaceful night's sleep apart from the local police doing a lap of the rest area shining their flood light looking for anyone who might be up to no good or soliciting of one's body! We we were doing neither.<br />
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We kept heading south and were happy to keep getting beautiful blue skies where ever we went including our next stop just outside a small city, Del Rio on the border with Mexico. Just outside the town was a free campground by the lake, well it used to be by the lake but as the years have passed the level has dropped to the point you can no longer see the water hence the reason it is now free to stay. It was a well set up place and we had it all to ourselves bar a few local deer wandering through. We had ourselves a lovely camp fire to keep ourselves warm that night and we also got a visitor by a local cop. He was friendly though, just wanted to check out our fire was OK and to ask a few questions as to what we were up to. We went to bed with clear skies and awoke the following morning to what one could only describe as being right in the middle of a huge cloud, at least it was not raining. One thing we have noticed since getting down near the Mexican border is the amount of border patrol vehicles patrolling the roads along with a few border patrol check points which we always have to stop for and show our passports.<br />
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After more long boring rides in outback Texas we finally made it to Big Bend NP. Little did we know we had arrived at one of the busiest times of the year, Thanksgiving! Many people take a long weekend or the whole week off and even some schools even give kids the week off. So trying to get a campsite was not so easy as many of the campsites were already reserved. We intended on going bush and staying in the back country camp spots but were hoping for a shower first. Little did we know that was not an option so paying $14 a night for a patch of grass was a joke really. That night we met a young Aussie, Dan who arrived just after us on his ole XL600 loaded up high. We got chatting about his travels and he was on a mission to travel through all 50 states and had only been on his bike for the past 4 days but seemed to be loving it. It was great meeting and chatting with him and we exchanged places to stay and possible routes to take. He had met some locals a couple of days earlier who had taken him under their wing, also trying to convert him into getting rid of his bike and buy a cruiser, we warned him against such a thing and glad to hear that he also was not interested. I must say that I am so happy to be here on this trip with my best friend and girlfriend but boy, after meeting Dan who's travelling at a tender age of only 19, I really wish I was out in the world at his age. I wish him all the best for his future travels.<br />
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After our first night in the 'organised' campground we headed for the ranger station to get our 'back country' camping permit. This is where we learnt you cannot just go pick a place to camp and set up. You have to pick a place, reserve it and hope that it is available. Well we had no idea of where to stay or how long we would stay. After a little help the ranger sorted us out with a few places but was very sure to warn us of the many dangers in the park, was it the chance of being eaten by a bear, ravaged by a mountain lion or poisoned to death by a rattle snake but the most dangerous thing? The Mexicans! Transporting drugs and guns. He really made it a point to tell us that we had to be extra careful in these back country camp spots as they run along the Rio Grande which divides the US and Mexico. We were also told to contact authorities if we saw anything out of the ordinary. Well, lucky for us we had no such problems. Unless we had to watch out for the 'Mexican Singing Jesus' sitting on his rock on the other side of the river singing to the tourists on the American side. We did see a few Mexicans crossing the river on a regular basis to set up their little 'stores' so to speak selling hand made souvenirs of local fauna etc. They sit on the other side keeping watch somewhere in the bushes and just leave a small container as an honesty system to potential buyers. There are however many signs in the park telling visitors NOT to buy these souvenirs. But everyone needs to make a living some how right?<br />
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We finally did get our shower, or one could say a sand blast type shower where it feels the skin is being ripped from your body from the high pressure of water streaming out from the shower head. At least it got rid of the worst of the smell. We set off on the back roads for the next 2 nights of blissful camping away from the hoards. We were on the look out for the <i>dangerous</i> Mexicans but had no run ins with them. Our only problem was not treading on the cute little Kangaroo rats running around our camp looking for food. Later in the night we were awoken by the howls of Coyotes, but again no <i>dangerous</i> Mexicans. We hit up the local hot springs to soak the weary bones before heading further west into the park on the 4x4 roads. It was a nice change to the long straight roads we were getting used to here. Even better there was no traffic out here and the weather was beautiful. We had another peaceful night's sleep right out in the middle of the park with a spectacular view over the mountains and not a soul around for miles. No mountain lions, no bears and no <i>dangerous</i> gun toting Mexicans.<br />
While there we met a couple from Houston on their two BMWs and we had a good long chat with them and hopefully we inspired them to take the jump and go for a big bike trip, they seemed pretty keen when they heard our stories anyway. As always we got asked: Do you carry protection? Our answer as usual was: No, we don't need a gun! They seemed puzzled by this. We asked them if they were carrying a gun with them right now; Yes, they had one handgun in their panniers and another one back at their tent! They somehow thought that a day trip in a national park required a gun! Better watch out for those Mexicans...which they warned us about too. Further up the road we stopped at a small store and the second Mark stepped in the door a little boy looks at him and says: Don't shoot me! He thought Mark looked like a special forces soldier! It's all about the guns...<br />
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With time running out every day to get to the west coast we gave up our last night stay in the park and instead started heading north west again. We had a great time in the park and would recommend anyone heading by that way to check out Big Bend. We had heard about this town Fort Davis that was meant to have some old buildings to check out from the old wild west days. Well, we were quite disappointed when we arrived in town as there was not much to see at all, at least it was on our route and there was no detour just for that. We had noticed however the considerable drop in temperature as the day progressed and the further north we travelled. We had another free 24hr rest area to camp in that night and oh boy was it cold! We froze our arses off just trying to cook and went to bed early wearing numerous layers which still was not enough. What made it worse we were camped in a small valley so we would not even get the sun on us until after 9am. After a very restless sleep we dragged ourselves from our sleeping bags to see what it was like outside as it had been of of the coldest night I can remember on the trip. No snow but all our water in our water bottles and camelbaks was frozen, the alcohol for our stove would not even light so we could make a cuppa and with no sun it was misery with my toes frozen and with each step I took it felt like they would snap off my feet. Thankfully the water in the bikes was not frozen. We later found out that the temperature had been -4 degrees Celsius!<br />
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We also checked the temperature of all the other places we were headed and it was not looking good. Every place showed the temp to be below 4 degrees at night. Not so good when you are camping in a summer tent. We checked this at a McDonalds where we sometimes stop to use their free wifi to keep up to date and plan ahead. We got chatting with a woman who was on her break and she talked about how she liked motorcycles and that her husband used to take her for rides on the back of his Harley but not any longer as she is now too big to get on the back. She then mentioned something about some new super pill that is meant to help you lose weight by turning your fat into something else! Maybe her maccas supersize meal might have been a good place to start with loosing weight... Afterwards she dropped her head and started praying before eating her meal (Dear God, please don't let me get any fatter from eating this Big Mac!)<br />
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Well we are pretty tough and just realised that from here on in when camping we will have to wear everything we own when we camp each night. This was not so much the case when we went to Guadalupe Mountains NP. This is where the highest point in Texas is, thankfully not where we would be camping but we were surprised at the change in altitude to the campground where we were also hit with high gusty winds and we were happy that the mercury did not drop too low. Thankfully our faithful little tent held up to the battering and we awoke to a still calm sunny day for our ride to our next state New Mexico. Texas had been great with its vast dessert landscapes mixed with forests, its gun-loving residents and not to forget the ever so <i>dangerous</i> Mexicans!<br />
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Hanging at Luke's house in Austin</div>
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Not a bad place to stop for lunch, Texas hill country</div>
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Sunset stroll</div>
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Our campsite outside of Del Rio</div>
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What we awoke to the following morning</div>
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Beautiful clear skies</div>
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Part of the Chisos Mountain range</div>
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It was great to be back in the hills again</div>
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That's Mexico on the other side of the river and some of the Mexican souvenirs for sale</div>
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Boquilla's Canyon</div>
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A close up of the Mexican's handmade souvenirs</div>
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Sierra del Carmen mountain range in the background</div>
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Dan and his mighty XL600</div>
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The Rio Grande running past our campspot</div>
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Lovely bit of back country camping and riding</div>
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And not to forget the HOT springs</div>
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A Mexican on his way back to Mexico after setting up shop in the US</div>
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My mighty steed still looking good after so many kilometres</div>
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Looking over the Chisos Mountain range</div>
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Another day another campspot</div>
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Trying to wake up (and warm up!) after a cool night</div>
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Wish we had more riding like this in the USA</div>
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Nough said!</div>
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This photo does not show how cold it really was!</div>
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Camping in the Guadalupe Mountains</div>
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El Capitan, Guadalupe Mountains</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-44170934083022710872014-11-17T12:04:00.002-03:002014-11-17T12:04:53.448-03:00Another Day, Another State<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Sanne</i><br />
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After leaving beautiful Grayton Beach heading west, the weather just got colder and colder. We found out that the reason for this was a massive cold front that was affecting the US, covering many states in a thick blanket of snow. From what I could piece together, a typhoon in Alaska had managed to disrupt the jet stream and was now pushing cold air from Alaska and Canada down into the US. Most states were affected and temperatures dropped way below average. The Mid-West seemed to be the worst hit but it reached all the way down to where we were - in the Gulf of Mexico! We rugged up and pushed on through, covering the state of Alabama in half a day or so; not too much to see on the coast apart from big apartment buildings. Then we crossed into Mississippi. It was quite late in the day and getting dark. We had covered much less miles that day than we had expected to as we had deliberately stayed off the freeway and taken the Highway 90 which we thought would be more scenic. It wasn't. Instead it was just littered with traffic lights hence the reason that at 6pm we found ourselves riding in the dark on a busy highway not having a place to camp. We knew there was some sort of state forest ahead but we were completely knackered after our long ride and tired and grumpy so we found this little dirt track off the highway that lead into some abandoned land. It was not very scenic but it was free - all that matters really!<br />
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We have now been in the US for 25 days and have only paid for 6 nights accomoodation so far. The rest has been a mix of staying with couch hosts, ADV riders and bush camping in forests. Luckily you can camp for free in state forests across the US. You just have to be careful there's no hunt on at the time. Like when we rocked up in a forest and found the so-called hunt camps full with camo-clad boys looking like they were going to war. I'm not joking, they had trucks like the military uses to carry soldiers! I wouldn't call it a peaceful-looking camping setting by any means! But people in this part of the world take a lot of pride in their camouflage clothes; they wear it everywhere, to the shops, to McDonalds...you name it. It seems to be just their daily uniform really.<br />
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Other oddities we have seen include a man carrying a cross down the road. I'm talking about a big-ass cross made out of wood. This man was just dragging it down the road in the middle of nowhere - like a present day Jesus! It is pretty obvious that this is the bible belt that we're riding through here. There are loads of churches, many of them with signs saying stuff like: God Is Awesome! When I went to Walmart one day to look for a new book to read I was overwhelmed with so-called "inspirational choices" such as <i>God what can I do, Talk to me Jesus, Jesus Calling, Illustrated Guide to Biblical Battles </i>not to forget a<i> Sarah Palin </i>biography.<br />
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Seriously though, although people here clearly have very different lifestyles from us, I can't understate how friendly folks are here. Several times a day people come up to us and start talking to us about our trip and so forth. Everywhere we stop, be it at a petrol station or a supermarket, we always get a <i>"Where are y'all from" "How are y'all doing"</i> and <i>"Y'all have a good day now!"</i> and if we're really lucky <i>"God bless y'all"</i>. But always, <u>always</u> the <i>y'all</i>! I have taken quite a likening to the word y'all, so much in fact that I might just start talking like a southerner myself!<br />
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Anyway back to the story. After our stealthy camp next to the highway we awoke to a grey, cold morning. We packed up the tent in a hurry and stopped down the road for pancakes. Then we crossed into the next state Louisiana and onto New Orleans where we had arranged to stay with an ADV rider. What ensued was 3 awesome days in the company of Ceasar. On the first night we went out to Bourbon Street, the famous drinking strip in New Orleans. Because of the before-mentioned cold front the weather was absolutely freezing and we struggled to keep warm as we went from bar to bar.<br />
The next day we went to do a favourite American pastime: going shootin'! Ceasar took us to a local shooting range with all his own guns, 1 riffle and 3 handguns. The riffle was the easiest to shoot with, the handguns had quite a bit of recoil, especially the Colt .45. Safety was quite good in there, we had to watch a video first and wear glasses and earplugs (it's very loud in there!).<br />
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It was a fun experience but I don't really see the fascination of it. After about an hour I was ready to call it a day. I had a chat with the old boys running the joint and they asked me about the gun laws where I come from. I told them that in both Denmark and Australia people generally don't keep guns unless they have a hunting license. I told them that in Australia there was a mass-shooting in the 90's and after that the government put in place a national buy-back scheme for guns which was successful in eliminating lots of guns. The men's response to that story was: <i>What a shame one person ruins it for everyone</i>. I was like, <i>ruin it? </i>His friend cracked up laughing: <i>I don't think she sees it like that!</i> I told them that in Australia we don't fell like we need a gun to protect ourselves. Their response: <i>Here you do! </i>These men echoed the paranoia we have been hearing ever since we've been in the States. People here really feel like they <i>need</i> a gun to protect themselves. They are afraid that with more restricted gun laws, all the guns will be owned by criminals and they won't be able to defend themselves against them. Also, they believe it's their right because it's in the constitution. We have been asked by people here if we carry a weapon while travelling and then get a surprised look when we say no...<br />
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We left New Orleans and rode all day to Lake Charles where yet another ADV rider, Darrell, had set us up in his dive shop. We slept on the floor in the pool house and was trusted with a key to the whole place without even meeting the owner until the next morning! We have come to really enjoy this ADV rider tent space site, where you can look up other riders all over the US who can host you. It's worked brilliantly for us so far and we plan on keeping on using it for the rest of the trip.<br />
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The next morning we left Lake Charles and rode towards Texas in heavy rain and it got worse the further west we got. Crossing the state line to Texas a sign greeted us saying: <i>Welcome to Texas - Drive friendly, the Texas way</i>. Straight after another sign states: <i>Deaths on Texas roads this year: 2781.</i><br />
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Y'all have a good day now!<br />
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Sweet Home Alabama! </div>
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Mississippi</div>
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Our camp next to the highway</div>
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Louisiana</div>
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Typical style raised houses out in the bayous</div>
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Morbid reminder of Hurricane Katrina: </div>
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The number at the bottom stands for the number of dead people found in the house by the military</div>
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Out and about in Bourbon Street and freezing!</div>
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With Lynn and Ceasar</div>
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Time to go shootin' some sh*t up!</div>
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You can choose from several different targets to shoot at</div>
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Zombie Osama anyone?</div>
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Mark having a go</div>
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We had quite an arsenal to choose from</div>
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Then it was my turn</div>
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The famous Mississippi River, running through New Orleans</div>
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Mark and Ceasar enjoying a fantastic local beer called Arbita (it's brewed with raspberries!)</div>
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A walk around the French Quarter</div>
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This is apparently one of the oldest pubs in the US and it only uses candles at night</div>
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The famous Bourbon Street</div>
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Street music</div>
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One of the oldest cathedrals in the US</div>
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Leaving New Orleans and Ceasar after 3 brilliant days</div>
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Ridiculous wheels!</div>
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Texas!</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-22904948738628407972014-11-14T22:18:00.003-03:002014-11-14T22:30:30.544-03:00Florida<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Mark</i><br />
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After one hell of a hangover from the Halloween party I
managed to don my helmet the following day to make our way south for Key West.
On the way though we had a rendezvous with Albert on the Dolphin expressway to
pick up Sanne’s sunnies that Albert took the previous evening by mistake. Well,
we made the next mistake and missed our exit point all together off the
freeway. Ten miles later we pulled off to try and find a way of contacting him.
Good old Maccas and their free wifi came in handy so we tried contacting him
via skype, yes we were miles from him but he was a champ and drove to us.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After picking up the shades we finally got away from the
expressway, I hate expressways especially on our under-powered bikes. Thankfully after many warnings
about Miami/Florida drivers we had a safe ride. We were told stories of how bad
they all were but after nearly 14 months in South America we found it very safe
and comforting and at no time thought we were in danger. To us most drivers
were doing the right thing, hell at least they stay in their own lane here
which is a rarity in South America! Can't be too bad when all the motorcycle riders here are all riding with no helmets and the usual attire consisting of no more than shorts and a t-shirt. I will never get my head around the no helmet idea. I am not prettiest of people but I like my head the way it looks - not what it could look like after some gravel rash!<o:p></o:p></div>
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The road for the most part was straight and boring, that was
until we started heading onto the keys themselves via the oversea highway. The
building of this road is some feat in itself. I am sure there would have been a
lot of landfill used to support such a road on marsh type land and sand. On top
of that the numerous bridges that take you from one island (key) to the next,
the longest bridge at 7 miles was a sight in itself and made for a scenic ride.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We had done some research into where to stay in Key West but
our meager budget did not allow for even a single night down here. All campgrounds,
well not really campgrounds but <i>RV parks</i>
as they call them here were charging $70 US dollars a night for a patch of
grass for our tent! A complete rip off in our eyes. Then if you have an RV you
are looking at $100 a night, then on top you have to pay to dump your waste
water etc. With the amount of huge RV’s heading south the owners of the parks
are making a killing. The RV owners loosing but with the size and cost of these
things I don’t really think money is an issue to many of them. So where did we
stay? Well after looking online and finding a website called freecamping.net we
were headed for Sugarloaf Key. We read that if you pull off Highway 1 onto the Old State Road and follow it down until it says no entry. We ignored this
sign and followed down the old abandoned road until you come to an old burnt
out bridge, here there are a couple of spaces on each side of the old road.
Plenty of space for us, our bikes and our tent. We only had to share the campsite with the local mozzies and midgies. It was free, it was quiet, just the way we like it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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From here we hit the road south down to Key West which was a short 30 km ride. Key West is by far the most beautiful looking key, very green and of course up-market. The homes are all well kept in a good state, lovely white homes with perfectly manicured lawns. Key West is also only 90 miles from Cuba. We were well out of place in our dirty bike clothes and since it was warm I stripped off out of my gear while Sanne decided to stay in hers. It always makes for a good laugh to see people checking out Sanne giving her a good look up and down wearing her big bike boots. We enjoyed strolling around the streets and the wharf but did not find the need to hang around that long and the beach was calling us.<br />
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We headed off to find a beach to have some lunch. Here we had a strange encounter. We found a nice shaded spot on the beach with a picnic table and shelter, there was a bunch of beach gear belonging to someone but we could not see who it all belonged to. We thought if they come back and they ask us to move on it would not be a problem. This is when some woman arrived and asked what we were doing, it was quite self explanatory with all our food on the table and with me a mouthful of food I answered her all too obvious question, we are having lunch. The woman in question goes onto ask about her friend and where he is. I reply that I have no idea of who you are talking about. She replies with, oh well so you find it ok just to make yourself at home here then? Me: well yes, is there a problem? Her: oh no problem and starts having a little fit and pointing and carrying on as if we should just leave. She keeps going on with her pointless questions, so how long have you been here and I reply: oh about 3 minutes, she asks again and I reply oh ok maybe 4! She does not find it to amusing. Really I could not care less for this woman. Shortly after another fellow turns up on the beach and takes a seat where we are. He says hi and has no problem with us being there. This is when the woman starts carrying on like a mental case asking where the hell so and so is. The other guy replies with I don't know, he left early this morning and that he had not seen him since. This goes on back and forth with this idiot of a woman asking the same questions over and over, not a bright human being. Basically she had brought with her another guy she found somewhere down town and was looking to score weed! She starts acting like a right brat and the poor guy sitting beside had to put up with her endless shit and stupid questions, I commend him for not getting up and smacking her in the face especially when she starts screeching that she just wants to buy some f*#king weed and everybody on the beach is looking. Nothing like keeping a low profile. This continued on for some time until she finally gave up and left. I had a headache after listening to this woman. With that we were finished packed our stuff and moved on further down the beach. Not the best place to be hanging around especially if it was the local place to buy weed.</div>
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Well I never got in the water nor did Sanne, it was actually really cold the water and not as nice as I had hoped it would have been. All the same we enjoyed chilling out on the beach as there would not be much more of this once we leave from here to go to California. That afternoon we were back on the road to sleep one more night at our little campspot.</div>
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Our next stop from here after back-tracking was to finally start heading west and make our way through the Everglades. The ride north-west was a long and dull one with long straight roads. Thankfully the roads were pretty quiet but the weather had taken a turn for the worse and we found ourselves gearing up in our wet weather gear. We were headed for a campground on a scenic loop road but when we arrived it was locked, however the beauty of the bikes is we could just ride around the gate and let ourselves in. Being in this part of the world has its downfalls and in this particular place it was the mozzies. On night fall they came in droves. We quickly tried to escape them and jumped in the tent, many followed which made for a restless night of constant buzzing in our ears. The following morning there were so many surrounding our tent but thankfully they were not so interested in us.<br />
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After packing we made our way back out to the highway to go for our first ride on an airboat. This is where we met Kevin, an IT guy from California who runs a small cafe by the Everglades for passing motorists and tourists. He was quite the character telling us about how he and his wife ended up there. Next interesting fellow we met was Dave, a local who used to be an ex-factory rider for Yamaha riding speedway in his younger days. He had a story or two to tell and it would have been fun to hang around all day with these guys but we had miles to make after our boat ride. We enjoyed our ride out on the airboat but it would have been more fun if I was the one at the helm! A big problem in the Everglades is phyton snakes. Lots of people release them into the Everglades when they get too big and now the pythons have become a problem as they kill a lot of the alligators.<br />
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After our trip we hit the road and rode back past where we had camped the previous evening to ride what is called the loop road getting you up close and personal with the Everglades, we also wanted to see more alligators which are meant to line the road and they didn't disappoint. There were many along the roadside, some would hear the bikes and run quickly off the roadside splashing into the waterway as we rode by, others including one mum stayed very still as we approached and did not flinch as we pulled up beside her to take a few pictures of her and her young ones. We were both surprised that she was not more territorial about us being so close. We left her alone and enjoyed the short loop road before joining back up onto the highway a few more miles down the road.<br />
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Since we are on such a meagre budget for the remainder of our trip we have been trying to use couchsurfing as often as possible but we have found the advrider tent space a much better option and our next stop was in Punta Gorda with a fellow round the world biker by the name of Doug who is a member on advrider. We actually first heard about Doug back when we were planning our trip. He does not ride the typical bikes around the world but he chooses to ride old Harley's and Indians. He loves bikes so much and his entire house is a dedication to them. Anything and everything is bike related from his towels to bed spreads. I should also mention his collection is now at about 35 motorcycles. I could not help but keep drooling over his bike collection including an old Danish Nimbus, to Triumphs to Nortons and of course his old Indian and Harleys he has done his bike trips on. Staying with Doug and his girlfriend Polly was great and we had many tales to talk about our travels, It was a shame that when we were back in Bulgaria we did not stay with them at their biker hostel 'motocamp' but we were very happy for their warm welcome into their home in Florida. After a couple of nights refreshed and with the comfort of a bed we made tracks north to head up and around into the Gulf of Mexico.<br />
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The next few days were a repetition of getting up in the morning and drying the tent out from either the previous nights rain or just from the condensation built up from the cold nights followed by riding most of the day and repeating all over again. It has been great though meeting so many locals along the way always happy to have a chat with us where ever we seem to stop. After a few days of bush camping in state forests we came to a beautiful beach and also a state park by the name of Grayton Beach. I spoke with the rangers and found the camping to be a little more than we wanted to pay but since we have been getting a lot of free accommodation we took it up, the idea of a hot shower was too good to pass up. When I went back into the office to pay they suggested another option which was to camp in another area where we had a great open patch of grass by a lake and was half the price of the other campsites, I think they realised we were on such a small budget and were looking out for us. After setting up we hit the beach thinking of going for a swim but the water was a little cold so instead we enjoyed a really nice afternoon stroll up and down the beach until the sunset. Grayton beach would have to be one the most peaceful nights we have spent on the trip and with the gorgeous white sands it reminded us off the beaches around Esperance in Western Australia. All good things must come to an end and we had to hit the road once more to keep making miles west.</div>
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Crossing one of the bridges heading south to Key West</div>
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Our free campspot on Sugarloaf Key</div>
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Peaceful, quiet and a beautiful sunset to boot</div>
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Hemingway's home in Key West</div>
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One hell of an eclectic car</div>
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Ugly car with big ridiculous wheels</div>
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Another lovely home with lush green gardens</div>
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The famous key lime pie</div>
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As I mentioned, beautiful kept streets and manicured lawns</div>
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Our campspot in the Everglades</div>
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Luckily we didn't come across any of these guys</div>
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An old school airboat</div>
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This guy was just hanging out waiting for someone or something to fall in so he could have a feed</div>
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Feed me!</div>
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Ready to ride</div>
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Sadly we did not see as much wildlife here as I would have liked, </div>
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may have had something to do with the V8 engine of the airboat!</div>
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A patch of grass was no problem for the airboat</div>
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A beautiful still morning after a wet and rainy night</div>
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No really, we were all having fun, even the captain!<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KKKQQ4rTqpU/VGTlA-9kYNI/AAAAAAAAKwc/cwHOgCO6Ni8/s1600/SA061859.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KKKQQ4rTqpU/VGTlA-9kYNI/AAAAAAAAKwc/cwHOgCO6Ni8/s640/SA061859.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Enough said</div>
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Kevin and Dave</div>
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On the loop road</div>
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If you look closely you can see a bunch of baby gators on the right hand side of mumma</div>
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Also a couple in the water, I was very surprised mum let us get as close as we did</div>
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Doug and his early 1920's Nimbus</div>
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Doug in his workshop</div>
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Watching the sunset from Doug and Polly's backyard</div>
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Sanne trying out Doug's confederate flag helmet</div>
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Saying goodbye to lovely Doug and Polly</div>
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A wet nights camping in Goethe State Forest</div>
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Having some fun in the sand trying to find a campspot</div>
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Beautiful little frog</div>
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The beautiful white sands of Grayton Beach, FL<br />
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Stunning clear waters of the Gulf of Mexico</div>
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Sanne testing the water</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-81881241016140870102014-11-07T20:39:00.001-03:002014-11-07T21:02:17.779-03:00Miami<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Sanne</i><br />
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We arrived in Miami in dismal weather. Everything was the colour grey and it was pissing down rain. It had been a bumpy 4-hour flight from Bogota flying almost the entire way immersed in clouds. As we approached Miami we flew over the eastern end of the Everglades and it was nothing but a vast expanse of flat...and of course grey. Not exactly the Miami you see on postcards.<br />
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Getting through immigration was super easy, much easier than we had expected. We had been quite paranoid and thinking they might not let us in unless we have everything in order. So we were armed with everything they might ask us for such as printouts of bank statement (where we had gotten Mark's mum to temporarily put in extra money so it looked like we were not too poor), an onward flight ticket out of the US, contact details of people we were staying with...you name it, we had it. And guess what - they didn't ask for any of it! The officer simply asked how long we planned to stay in the US and that was it. He gave us a 3-months stamp (we don't need a visa) and we were officially in the US of A. Even customs were easy; we decided to declare the few foods we were carrying and we were allowed to keep all of it. So all our paranoia had been for absolutely nothing!<br />
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We took the airport shuttle to Miami Beach which only took about 20 mins and it dropped us off almost on the doorstep of our hostel The Freehand. We had been unsuccessful in finding a couch host in Miami Beach so we had to stay in a hostel, and because we're back to Western World prices we had to stay in a dorm which we've only done once before on this trip - in Rio de Janeiro. But although I'm not a huge fan of hostels, this one was without a doubt the nicest hostel I've ever stayed in. It's in an old Art Deco building with really cool courtyard and pool, just a shame the weather was so horrible. Miami was getting a low-pressure system from Mexico so the next 4 or 5 days were a mix of wind and rain, with little bits of sun in between, not allowing for much beach time. It didn't matter too much though as we spent most of the first couple of days in the room making skype calls to insurance companies and the bank which we still had issues with over the money that had "disappeared" from our bank accounts in Colombia. In the end we found a cheap motorbike insurance through Progressive ($99 for two bikes for a year!). The medical insurance was much more expensive (medical insurance goes up astronomically when you add US onto your trip) and we just had to swallow that expense into our meager budget.<br />
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Our first impression with Miami was: <i>Does anyone speak English? Are we still in South America? </i>I'm not joking, walking around Miami Beach all you heard was Spanish! I had heard that apparently more English is spoken in Panama City than in Miami. Even all the shops you go into are run by Spanish speakers (I suspect mainly Cubans?). It was quite fascinating and made the transition into US very easy! The second impression was:<i> There's a lot of money here!</i> The amount of Lamborghini's, Ferrari's, Bentley's and Maserati's we saw was insane. But in a place where valet parking costs $40 you gotta have money. Despite the weather we both really enjoyed Miami; the Art Deco buildings were really cool and it had a nice, relaxed atmosphere. We met some cool folks at the hostel too which we hung out with.<br />
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We found out that our bikes had arrived in Miami the same day as us and so we went to the airport to pick them up. First we went to Centurion Cargo where they had all the paperwork ready for us, they then sent us to Customs which was a short <i>1 hour</i> walk each way (we were told it was not far so we walked there, which we quickly came to regret). We were in and out of customs in 5 minutes, again super easy and they didn't even want to check the bikes. Then back to Centurion where we had to pay $50 in money order and we walked to the warehouse where our bikes were waiting for us. We freed them from the tonnes of cling wrap that had been wrapped around them, pumped up the tires which were at 0 psi (apparently the Colombian police let the tires down to see if you have hidden any drugs inside them) and then it was off to a petrol station to pump some American <i>gas</i> into them. They were pretty rough, especially Mark's bike that needed the new slide for the carburetor but we made it back to the hostel and parked them out front on the street. A stupid thing: even though the hostel had lots of space for parking it was policy not to allow guests to park their vehicles there in case it gets stolen and we sue them! Welcome back to 1st World Country rules and regulations that cannot be bent!<br />
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The next day we packed our bikes and left Miami Beach to drive up to Fort Lauderdale, just a little north of Miami. There we had been invited to stay with couch hosts Derek and Iwanka, a Polish couple who work here on super yachts and regularly sail to Bahamas and the Caribbean. Tough life indeed. When we first met Derek he wore a shirt saying Redneck and I had my fears, but they were totally unfounded and we immediately hit it off with him and Iwanka and their whole crew of friends who always hang around their house which they call HQ. And it really is. That first evening we had a big BBQ, meeting loads of cool and funny people and we all had such a great time. The next day they took us onboard "their" luxury cruiser which <i>only</i> costs $122,000 a week to hire... I've never ever been on such a flash boat before and probably never will again. It's basically a floating 5 star hotel. There's a spa, jet skis and all the amenities you might want. But what I really couldn't get over was the amount of TVs. They were everywhere, apart from your usual spots, they were in the kitchen, in front of the spa and in all the bathrooms! The master suite bathroom had 2 toilets (don't know when you'd want to go to the toilet with someone else but anyway), 2 showers and 2 flatscreen tvs in front of each toilet. That way I guess you can watch The Kardashians while taking a shit!<br />
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Then it was off to Pompano Beach where our next host was Hendi, a fellow motorbike rider who's actually French but lives in the US. Not for much longer though as he is planning a big motorbike trip with his wife Elisa start of next year. The part we had ordered had already arrived but much to our dismay when we tried to fit it - it didn't work. This was extremely frustrating and I must commend Mark on his numerous attempts at working it out, but in the end we realised it must be the part that's something wrong with; this was an aftermarket part so we tried to order the original part which was slightly more expensive. When the new part arrived the next day thankfully it worked and we breathed a sigh of relief! Hendi was a great host and helped us a lot and we really enjoyed our time with him and his wife. He told us a lot of interesting stories about America and they way of life here and it was quite an eye-opener...<br />
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We had to move on after a few days as we had a Halloween Party to go to back at HQ. First though, Derek took us to the Fort Lauderdale International Boat Show where we got in for free thanks to his passes and we also sneaked in to have a fancy lunch for crew members only; we just had to say what boat we were working on and our position there, so I was stewardess and Mark engineer on the Silverado which is 35 metres long! All totally made up of course and it worked. Good scam!<br />
The boats at the show were unfortunately just a tiny bit out of our price range and we forgot our credit card so we had to resort to window shopping which is a lot cheaper than spending $50,000,000 on a boat.<br />
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The whole crew got together for the Halloween party which was held at another CS'ers house. Everything was for free from the food to the booze and I can safely say that everyone got quite drunk! I almost got my ass kicked because I asked a lady if she was dressed as a Sasquatch. Apparently she wasn't. So she wasn't too happy with me and didn't like that I kept yelling out Sasquatch every time she walked past. Oh well! It was a great night and the very first Halloween party for Mark and I. I must say I think that is one tradition we should adopt from the US! It's so much fun!<br />
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The next day everyone in the house just slept all day long but in the evening the house was full again with people and we cooked for them all. We had such an awesome time in Fort Lauderdale with these people and we felt like we were saying goodbye to new friends when we left. Derek and Iwanka are actually planning a RTW motorbike trip themselves and I so hope for them that they make it happen and I very much hope to see them in Australia someday soon!<br />
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Miami Beach - Art Deco District</div>
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Lots of cool cars around this stretch of road</div>
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Art Deco cool</div>
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Miami Beach in some shitty weather...good for kitesurfing though</div>
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Miami by night</div>
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Freeing the babies from their clingwrap hell</div>
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Yep, we're in gun country now!</div>
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We suspect our friend Flanders has been here...</div>
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Seeing how the other half lives</div>
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Just a wee tinny really...</div>
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Derechek and Iwanka</div>
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Making myself at home in the luxurious bathroom of the boat...</div>
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Mark in the hot seat as captain</div>
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Enjoying the sun on Pompano Beach</div>
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Mark's bike in pieces</div>
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Hendi and Mark</div>
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At Fort Lauderdale International Boat show, mingling with millionaires and wannabees</div>
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What's a boat without a private helicopter?</div>
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The Ebola panic even reached the boat show...</div>
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Notice the price tag for this boat...</div>
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Turkey Boy getting ready for Halloween</div>
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Happy Halloween!</div>
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The Honey Badger crew (they don't give a sh*t)</div>
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Who's the weirdo in the left-hand corner???</div>
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Good times!</div>
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Morning after Turkey Boy didn't feel so flash</div>
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Our bikes and Derek and Iwanka's V-strom</div>
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The Polish Body Building Champion '89</div>
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Honey Badger (he doesn't give a sh*t) Click <a href="http://youtu.be/4r7wHMg5Yjg" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-20483461011941106222014-10-30T13:22:00.000-03:002014-10-30T13:22:01.445-03:00Goodbye Colombia and South America<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Mark</i><br />
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While working on my bike a local guy came to check out what I was up to and when I told him I needed to find a truck to get to San Gil he appointed himself to this job. Straight away he was jumping up on trucks as they passed by. I should explain that we were parked right beside a road toll so all vehicles were at crawling speed as they passed. Most drivers were not interested but some were so keen that they were willing to even lift the bikes up high and put them in the back of the semi trailers full of gravel. After looking there was no way I was going to do that, I also had no idea how we could even get it in. Then came along a car carrier with more then enough space for my baby. After a bit of negotiating on the price it didn't look like it was going to happen and the driver pulled away. Next thing he stopped and realised it was easy money so agreed to the price. In no time the bike was on the truck, I paid my self appointed helper a small tip for getting me the truck and in no time I was sitting up in the cab of the truck while Sanne was in front of us riding her bike.<br />
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San Gil was only 60 km's away but it was a twisty narrow mountain road all the way with a high volume of traffic headed there for the long weekend. The truck crawled its way up and up the mountain taking over and hour to travel just 30 km's, from the top it was mainly down hill into the town of San Gil but that also took another hour. Sanne was waiting on the outskirts of town for us. She had had enough time to find a hotel for us and also a place to take the bike for further inspection. We unloaded the bike, said farewell to the driver and I was on my bike rolling down the last 1km into town. After checking into the hotel we were straight off to the mechanic. After telling him about the problem we started pulling the bike apart. We took the head off and straight away noticed the problem. Two valves were jammed shut by a foreign piece of metal, WTF? After closer inspection we found that it had come from the carb, the vacuum release plate had given up and snapped into three pieces, one of the pieces had jammed shut two of the valves while the larger piece was still in contact in the carb. Now to inspect the real damage to the head. Luckily enough there was no further damage. The main problem was that we were unable to get any spare parts for the DRZ400 in Colombia. Bugger!<br />
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We only had to ride another 250 or so kilometres to Bogota before shipping the bikes to Miami so I suggested to the mechanic that we should try to make something to get us there. In Miami I knew we would be able to get whatever we needed to get it running properly. It was late in the afternoon and were told to come back the following day. The following morning the mechanic had come up with a reasonable looking homemade plate. After fiddling around we got the bike running, not great but it was running. The bike was horrendous to ride at low speed and there was always the risk that the home made plate could give up but we were going to go for it. First things first we had to pay for the work. Not having enough cash we were off to the bank. This is where things went wrong. Each and every ATM I tried using would not dispense any cash to me, everybody else had no problems just me. Great. I went back to the hotel and checked internet banking, My transactions were showing up on my statements that I had recieved the money but I had nothing to show for it. Over and over this happened. Six times in total. I could not even call the bank because of the time difference.<br />
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So with a heavy head I walked back to the bike store to tell them what was happening and that I could not pay them. They did not really care so the bike was staying with them until the bill had been paid. Finally in the afternoon I could call the bank. On their system it was showing no faults. No fraud problems no credit problems, nada. So where does one go from here? Firstly, dispute all supposed transactions which was one very slow process. Next, how do I now get money? The hardest thing to deal with was that we had money, but could not access it. Our other bank cards had just expired one month earlier and we had no place to get them sent to. I was a victim of credit card fraud a couple of months earlier too, so I could not use that either. My only choice was to go through Visa and request an emergency payment. This was fairly easy and straight forward. The problem was getting the money. It was a long weekend so the banks that were affiliated with Western Union were closed so that left us with trying to find a small Western Union office. We found this difficult as they were not even called Western Union but Effy! When asked if we could get money it was a straight 'No' and they would send us onto the next office where we were told the same. Surely there has to be a place we can get money?!<br />
Yes, at the Western Union office. So we actually manage to get directions to the office, closed for refurbishment and so the day continued on like this. We then had to go and explain this to the mechanics again, they didn't really care less. No money, no bike. We then had to tell the managers at the hotel we could not pay for our room and they were totally fine telling us it would be OK and even asked us if we needed any money to get by for food etc. Just pay us when you get the money, it was not a big problem to them. It wasn't like we were going anywhere. They were very friendly and helpful thankfully.<br />
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So we ended up back at the first EFFY office where we begun earlier in the day and asked about receiving money but asked the question differently and they said Yes, god damn things can be difficult. There was another problem however, the computer system was down, it had been all day. They said come back and try tomorrow. What a headache, I wonder why I like to drink sometimes. So we planned to leave the next day for Bogota not expecting to get any money after all the problems that day but we were hoping for the best. Surprisingly we got our money. What a test in one's patience. So with cash in hand and a place to stay in Bogota with couch surfers we hit the road. I was so worried the entire ride that my bike was not going to make it, gently applying the throttle and trying to keep it at one constant speed, not an easy feat with everybody heading back to Bogota after the long weekend, on top of that the road was still in the mountains and twisted and turned for the next 250 to 300 km's. The entire ride the bike just didn't feel right, at speed was the only time the bike felt it could make it.<br />
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Finally after a downpour along the way we were on the outskirts of the city with every other person from Bogota (roughly 7 million people). I kept calm and managed to navigate our way to Juan's apartment, our couch surfing host who was so kind to leave his keys at the front reception for us to let ourselves in until he came home the following day. Our first 2 days in Bogota was made up of cleaning the bikes and preparing them for flying to Miami. The cleaning part took a long time, then organising what we needed to keep with us and what we needed to send with the bikes. The next day we were off to see our agent, Lynn Cargo, before heading to the airport. This was all very straightforward as we had been in regular contact with our agent and she made it all very easy. So off to the airport we went. Like all shipping, we had to have our patience about us as we would be in for quite a bit of waiting around.<br />
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First thing we had to do was drain the fuel from our bikes, or should I say really just mine; since I have a clear tank the agent that came with us said all fuel must come out, well I could leave no more than 1 litre because of my transparent tank while Sanne's bike went under the radar because she has a black tank. Draining fuel by the door to the warehouse caught the eye of a passing security guard. Just what we needed, the security guard was not impressed and called the top dog to come and have a word. This just had to happen as we were about to load the bikes into the warehouse for storage, final weight check and measurement for charging. The guards wanted our particulars but we refused and told them we were just doing what we were instructed to do by our agent. Some how we got around it and they lost interest and moved on after about an hour. The head guy in the warehouse was an arse and our bikes were promptly whisked away from us before we even had a chance to load our bike gear into our panniers, this then caused a problem for him. I tell you, things were all too difficult for this guy. As the day dragged on we finally had access to the bikes and then had another hour plus wait until the police arrived to check our bikes and contents.<br />
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We have shipped a few times now, crossed many border crossings but the Colombian police have by far been the most thorough when checking over our bikes. Every single item was inspected, nothing was left and if I had anything wrapped in a bag it had to come out so all the previous day's work of neatly packing the bikes was undone. The policeman, since he did not have a sniffer dog took on this role himself opening many items and having a good whiff of the contents, it was ridiculous. I had had enough by this point and the officals including my agent were not too impressed when I threw all the belongings from one bag all over the ground. I was told by my agent to keep calm <i>"tranquilo, tranquilo"</i> and that it would be all over soon. After all this we were finally free to go, we then had to head back to our agents office to pay.<br />
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With all the shipping out of the way we were free to explore Bogota. Our hosts Juan and Gina were a great couple who we enjoyed having dinner together with and going out for drinks and even to the cinema (where we saw the most boring movie known to man). Gina was our self appointed tour guide one afternoon who showed us around the colourful suburb of La Candeleria. Gina knows her home city well and told us many interesting facts about Bogota. We even visited the local police museum to find out more about the notorious ex drug boss Pablo Escobar. Gina also introduced us to a few local treats and so forth before heading home to Juan's apartment. Juan was such a great guy to sit and talk with and we talked of our plans for our last days in Colombia and invited us to stay until we flew out for the US a few days later. Our time in Bogota went quickly and we never really got to get a good feel for the city but we had a good experience here and it was nice to get a bit of cold weather again after the heat of the coast and knowing we were headed for more warm weather in Miami..<br />
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I don't even know where to start to wrap our experience in South America. The experience we had with Juan and Gina was just one of many great couples we had the pleasure to meet while in South America over the past 14 months. It was with a heavy heart that we had to leave South America and trying to recall everything we had done, what we had seen and the friendships we had made was all too much to take in. South America was everything and more than we had expected. It has it all, from the vast spaces of Patagonia to the forests, the stunning beauty of the Andes, the Caribbean coast of Colombia, the Amazon jungle, the cultural rich countries of Bolivia and Peru. I could go on and on. The thing that makes it so great of course is the people, the daily interaction we had with the local people who were always willing to help us if we were lost, needing a place to sleep or just genuinly interested in what we were doing. For that more than anything we will miss. To all our new friends we have made, to the strangers in the street who greeted us with a smile, thank you from the bottom of our hearts for everything, we miss you all but we hope to see many of you in the not so distant future, we may be gone for now but you will never be forgotten.<br />
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Loading my poor baby</div>
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Safe and sound and ready to hit the road for San Gil</div>
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The vacuum release plate that my engine ate and caused it to stop</div>
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Waiting patiently for my bike to be put back together</div>
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Draining the fuel before shipping the bike</div>
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All my fuel that caused the problem with the security</div>
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Our bikes ready for flying, well almost</div>
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La Candaleria, Bogota</div>
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Our host/guide Gina and myself</div>
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I am so going to miss the cheap street food and drinks of South America</div>
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A Harley Davidson that Pablo Escobar gave to his cousin (now the property of Colombian police) you cannot see it but there are gold inlays over the engine casing and petrol tank</div>
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Pablo Escobars jacket, a little strange thing to have in a museum as it is nothing noteworthy, there was also a bloody tile from the roof where he was shot plus the phone he had used to make a phone call to his son on his birthday, which lead him to being caught</div>
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A very common sight in Colombia - police with machine guns everywhere</div>
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A weird Colombian treat, Chocolate Santa Fereno, you actually dump the cheese into the hot chocolate...</div>
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Having dinner with Juan and Gina</div>
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Fire water (literally) Aguardiente</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-75268802990938219492014-10-19T17:28:00.001-03:002014-10-19T17:33:05.719-03:00The Caribbean Coast<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Sanne</i><br />
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We were more than ready to leave the stinking hot city of Cartagena behind. As beautiful as it was, it really was quite unbearable to walk around in that heat. We knew of a small village in the mountains just inland from Santa Marta, Minca, that was meant to be a bit cooler so we headed for there.<br />
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We bypassed the huge city sprawl that is Barranquilla further east on the coast and eventually found the small road leading up to Minca. Sitting at only 600 metres above sea level, to our disappointment there wasn't that much respite from the heat, however as soon as the sun went down it did become pleasantly cool. We stayed in a little guesthouse right next to a river and the first thing we did when we arrived was to jump straight in for a refreshing dip. It was here Mark got absolutely slaughtered by mosquitoes and when he got out of the water his back looked like it had been pelted by a pellet gun!<br />
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Minca is a really quiet place, not a whole lot to do there but it was just what Mark and I needed. We spent the days swimming in the river, going for walks and lying in the hammocks reading. While we were here we started talking about how to get from Colombia to Panama. Because there are no roads linking the two countries and the Darien Gap is an impassable wilderness most people opt to take a sailboat from Cartagena to Panama. This would cost us US$2,000 which is quite a lot for such a short distance. As my history with sailing and boats in general hasn't been the best I was considering to fly to Panama City while Mark would go on the boat with the bikes. At this point I threw into the conversation the idea of shipping to either Mexico or Miami. We couldn't find any info on Mexico but quite a few people seemed to have shipped to Miami. We contacted a shipping company that had been recommended on Horizons Unlimited, Lyn Cargo, and they replied back to us really quick with information. First of all they shipped mainly via air as this was the most cost-effective way due to big port charges at destination. The problem was that they did not ship out of Cartagena, just Bogota. Well, Bogota was a 1,000 km ride south from the coast where we were so it was a bit out of the way. Despite this, the idea really appealed to us for several reasons:<br />
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1. The price of shipping to Miami is around the same as shipping to Panama.<br />
2. The bikes are starting to get tired and developing a few quirks here and there - shipping to the US would have the benefit of being able to get parts easier (and cheaper) than in Central America.<br />
3. WE are getting tired! After 3 1/2 years on the road we are starting to loose the passion a bit. It's not like we are not enjoying ourselves - we are - but not as much as we once did and we're becoming a bit jaded as in we don't see or appreciate the beauty so much of the places we are going through. I think we have been spoiled by TOO much beauty since we have been in South America! Also, if we were to go through Central America we would be faced with 8 border crossings. 8 very corrupt and time consuming border crossing. And we just don't feel up for that.<br />
4. We need a change of scenery. We have been in South America now for over a year and we have loved it! But moving from hotel to hotel and eating the same foods can become a bit monotone and we want to see something completely different and be excited about travelling again! We were thinking that Central America wouldn't be that much different than what we have already seen so far.<br />
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We still hadn't made up our minds yet but this new change of direction gave us plenty food for thought. Part of us were wondering if we were missing out on something great by bypassing Central America. We both had wanted to see Mexico especially. With all these thoughts in our heads we left Minca after 4 days and headed to Costeno Beach which is a surf camp owned by two Canadian brothers. It's only been there for about 4 years but already has become quite popular with travellers. It's a very chilled out spot right on the beach with cute little beach huts amongst tall coconut palms.<br />
We camped here as it was the cheapest option. The surf here was not great so you had to walk down the beach a good few kilometres to catch some waves. To swim wasn't great either as the ocean was very rough. Not the best spot for a surf camp. Despite that it was a nice little spot to hang out for a few days.<br />
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Next stop was Palomino, a wide sandy beach which is really quiet and underdeveloped, which is something we have noticed along the Colombian Caribbean coastline - it's very underdeveloped - which is great! The beach here was much more swimmable than at Costeno and the surf was better too. We camped here as well at a nice place called Finca Escondida right on the beach. Super nice place in beautiful grounds but with one major drawback: a massive amount of mosquitoes and sandflies! We were constantly spraying ourselves with mossie spray and slapping our ankles to no avail - it was supremely exasperating!<br />
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Colombia has been the country in South America (together with Brazil) with the most amount of street dogs. And a lot of these dogs are in really poor condition. But the worst cases I have seen was in Palomino. Imagine a dog with its hind legs broken and destroyed, dragging itself by its front legs up and down the street. It was a horrible sight and no one seemed to pay any attention to it. I mean, this dog really would have been better off dead. On top of that it was all bones and obviously had some kind of skin condition. When I asked around to find its owner no one claimed it and when I asked the police if there was anything they could do i.e. put it out of its misery they said they were not allowed to use their guns. With no vet in town they promised me they would see if they could contact the vet in the next town to come and take care of it, however I don't hold many hopes that anything will actually happen for this poor mutt.<br />
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Then there was this puppy...an exuberant little puppy who hung out around the beach where we stayed. Severely malnourished and underweight with a really bad skin infection with open wounds which sandflies were feasting in. It also had worms. Basically it was in a really bad way. In spite of all these ailments it was the best-tempered dog I've come across and clearly all it wanted was a little bit of love. But no one wanted to touch it because of its skin. We wanted to help it so bad but knowing there was no vet in town we didn't know how we could help. If I was in a car I would have taken it with me but on the bike it's not so easy. One evening as we're sitting in the restaurant we hear this loud slap and a yelp and everyone turns around to see what is going on. A man is chasing and belting the puppy with a stick down on the beach. Well, I can't just stand by and watch an innocent animal being beaten so I approached the man and asked him what the hell he was doing. This was all in Spanish and at one point I may or may not have called him "Puta" which translates to "Bitch" or "Whore". Maybe not the best choice of words bu it was the only swear word I knew! Well, he wasn't too impressed with being called that so he started waiving his stick at me sort of to say "No no, no Puta". I asked him if he doesn't have a heart and he flatly replied: "No, I don't have a heart". I replied that that was pretty obvious and turned my back to him.<br />
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The next day we met an American girl with her Colombian boyfriend. They also had sympathy for this dog and had contacted a shelter in Santa Marta where they were going to take it. We gave them a lift up to the main road on the motorbike (with the puppy in a cardboard box!) from where they were going to hitch a ride on the back of a truck to Santa Marta. We never got their details but I hope they made it there and that the puppy is recovering so it can have a good life as someones pet. All this confirmed my belief that nothing will ever happen unless you take matters into your own hands. You can not expect anyone else to care and do something (because most often they won't). Kindness is worth NOTHING without action.<br />
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As we were almost at the Venezuelan border and the end of the Colombian coast, it was time to make up our minds about where to go from here. Should we go back to Cartagena to catch the sailboat to Panama or should we ride south to Bogota to fly to Miami? Weighing up the pros and cons we landed on the Bogota-Miami option. Now that the decision was made we quickly booked our flights as there was a good deal on flying with LAN in two weeks time. Then we had to register online for an ESTA (Electronic System for Travel Authorisation) which is required when you travel via the Visa Waiver Program which is something we are eligible for, it basically means we don't need a visa. We had a couple of questions related to this so we emailed a few offices to get some answers...well, that didn't get us anywhere. I don't know why they have help centres for these things because they are certainly not interested in helping! The answers we got ranged from giving us addresses of websites which we already had looked at and found nothing to this cryptic answer<i> "A law is a law. You must comply with our immigration law all the time".</i> Jesus! All I asked was if I needed to purchase a return ticket! Very helpful. This did make us wonder if we really wanted to go to a country with such an unwelcoming attitude but we hoped it was just a case of unhelpful authority figures.<br />
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After a few days we could stand the onslaught of mosquitoes no longer and now we had a deadline to be in Bogota in a weeks time as we had to be there one week prior to flying out to sort out the shipping. It was a slow ride south on a small road with nothing but trucks. That night we stayed in a hotel in the small "town" of San Roque, really it was just a gathering of trucker hotels on the side of the highway. Shortly after entering our room the heavens opened and the rain started pouring while thunder and lightning were vying for attention. Then the rain started entering our room from underneath the door and the room started flooding. The young girl who came to mop up the floor thought we had had a very enthusiastic shower!<br />
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The next day our aim was to make it to San Gil, the adventure capital of Colombia, but halfway in between Bucaramanga and there Mark's bike just gave up and stopped. We were on a steep hill so had to turn around and roll all the way back down to where we had come from. Here we had to spend the night in a small hotel on the side of the road worrying about the bike. The next morning Mark went to work trying to diagnose the problem. He tried swapping numerous parts between the two bikes but nothing worked. In the end he put it down to be a problem with the valves. For this we had to get the bike to a workshop. We had to hail down a truck to take us to San Gil to get the bike to a mechanic. From here followed a time of extreme nuisance...stay tuned!<br />
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Santa Marta as seen from Minca</div>
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Swimming in the river</div>
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Bringing Sexy back....not!</div>
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View from our guesthouse in Minca</div>
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The garden had an interesting selection of plants...</div>
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The countryside around Minca is really beautiful</div>
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Costeno Beach Surf Camp</div>
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These hammock sheds are used a lot by travellers on a budget...<br />
I have never tried them but doubt they are very comfortable to sleep in for a whole night</div>
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Lots of driftwood on the beach here coming from the nearby rivers</div>
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Palomino Beach</div>
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The little puppy dog that was taken away to a hopefully better life</div>
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Looked quite comfortable as a biker dog!</div>
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Chicamocha Canyon, around the spot where Mark's bike broke down</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-57368530617830788902014-10-12T14:56:00.000-03:002014-10-12T14:58:55.512-03:00Medellin to Cartagena<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Mark</i><br />
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Before taking off for Medellin we rode down to the river to
take a photo, Rahul followed a little after, along the way he tried to the test
the limit of his suspension and his bike failed. I was walking back to my bike
and hear the sound of a bike horn, I look up over the river bed and see Rahul
looking at his bike lying on the ground wondering how it ended up there. I go
over to help pick the bike up and one pannier falls off. I really don’t know how long this bike will
last after Rahul dropping the bike the previous day. After a giving the clasp on the pannier frame
a good whack with my hammer we mounted the pannier back on plus a strap to help
keep it in place. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As we set off back onto the main road Rahul follows me
straight out onto the road and almost got cleaned up by an oncoming car, after
another near brush we made our way back through to Guatape and stopped to take
a few more pics at El Penol. For a
change Sanne and I did not have to think about navigating into a big city as
Rahul has a GPS (worth more than his bike) which made negotiating the traffic a
little easier, not so for Rahul. Since he has no handle bar mounts for his GPS
he has it sitting in the top of his tank bag. To check where he is going we
both find him constantly looking down and taking his eye off the road but
managing to keep it together, that is right up until the point of entering into
Poblado which is a very nice neighbourhood of Medellin. As Rahul tries to keep his
unruly beast under control while riding through a quiet intersection, he stalls
it and drops the bike. A few locals run over to help him pick up his bike while
Sanne and I move off the road and park up. All of this happens to take place
right out of the front of the hostel that we were actually looking for. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It turned out that the hostel was full so we had to walk
around to try and find another place. This is where we met Albert from the
borders in Scotland. He just happens to own the first “fake” Irish bar in
Medellin. He also happens to have rooms for rent upstairs above the bar and
parking out the back of the pub for 2 bikes. After much messing about we
finally checked into our humble abode, we were just not sure how much sleep we
would get being a Saturday night and the bar not closing until 4am!<o:p></o:p></div>
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With that we decided it would be a good idea to go out.
Being tight arses now that we are even poorer than ever we never actually made
it into any bars or clubs. Luckily enough the streets come alive on a Saturday
night and with no shortage of corner stores selling booze for much cheaper than
the clubs we opted to stay on the streets until Rahul wangled his way into a
bar and asked a local for a dance. When I tried to get in (climbing over a
small fence) after hanging round out the front for the past 15 odd minutes I
was caught quickly and asked to leave. Had to try even if it was a poor
attempt. We were not quite taken with the night scene here and headed off back
to our rooms at about 2am. We did not drink much but the late night was
the hardest to deal with the next day. It was a very lazy day spent lying around
and eating mainly. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We did manage to get out and have a look around the centre of Medellin. Well all I can say is that we were very protected staying in El Poblado. The city centre is like being in another city all together. We went down town for some lunch and while walking around we see numerous hookers hanging out around many small casinos that seem to be in a high abundance around this part of the city. All I can say is that you must be pretty desperate if you are after one of these 'ladies of the day' They came in all shapes and sizes and ages. I guess something for everyone? Later we met up with a lovely young girl for our free walking tour of the city that Rahul was able to get us squeezed onto. We all met up beforehand and off we went. We didn't go far but we did learn more about the city and how it has been transformed into the city it is today. Back in the nineties however it was known as one of the deadliest cities in the world with many murders taking place on a regular basis. Luckily for the locals the city became safer after the death of Pablo Escobar. He used to pay his people $1000 per head for each policeman shot dead. There are mixed feelings for the ex kingpin of the cocaine trade, some people liked the guy for his generosity in helping some less fortunate souls and also putting money into the building of churches and schools.<br />
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Churches, well the crowds around the churches within the city centre are not the typical crowd. If the hookers are not out the front of the casinos, they will be found out the front of the churches along with the drug dealers and addicts in the parks neighbouring the churches. It is believed that if they are going to go commit a sin then they can go ask for forgiveness first or after, makes sense I guess.<br />
I must say that you would not want to be hanging around this part of town after dark. Along with all the friendly locals you do also have a lot of people you would not want to associate with and could find yourself with all your valuables gone quickly.<br />
After our walk which was good, a little long I must say however we jumped on the metro to head back to the safety of El Poblado.<br />
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The following day was bike maintenance day. We needed to give the bikes an earlier service than usual after the head work that was done in Quito. We found a local bike store who was willing to let us use their workshop after purchasing the oil etc from them. In no time we had done a once over on the bikes and things were looking good. Sanne's bike is no longer using any oil and mine a small amount after I stupidly ordered the wrong parts and could not fit the 3 rings for the piston. Rahul's bike was not as easy. Firstly he went to change the oil filter, there wasn't any! Then the guys at the shop had troubles finding the original. We all took off with Rahul returning later to pick up his mighty stead.<br />
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Next thing we had to do was speak to Rahul. We had really enjoyed our time travelling with him but just needed a few days travel by ourselves. Sanne and I have travelled together for so long now and have a good routine, when you throw a third person in, things change and we enjoy our routine. We do also enjoy travelling with others. We spoke to Rahul who was not 100% sure of his plans also as he had commitments back in the US. Rahul was fine when we spoke of our plans and it turned out that he was thinking of heading east again and we were headed north west close to the Panama border and of course the Caribbean! We had spoken to a few people and all thought we were a bit mad to be taking the route we were headed for. We bid farewell to Rahul with the promise to keep in touch and maybe ride together again in Colombia when he returns from the US if our plans match up.<br />
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We hit the road the following day with no real idea of where we would end up. After a busy escape from Medellin we found ourselves back in the mountains, riding through the lush green valleys. The roads were quiet, just how we like them. We originally had in mind to make our way for Turbo but that was never going to happen. We stopped early in the afternoon in a little village where we seemed to be the centre of attention. Especially when a parade came through town, all the young children were more interested in us and the bikes parked on the street. Just another day for us, something we will miss when we return home.<br />
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After a noisy night from all the trucks coming through town all night we hit the road for the coast. The scenery was spectacular, starting the day riding down a beautiful green valley, the road twisting lower and lower down the valley all the time following alongside a full flowing river. The landscape changed from mountainous to flowing hillsides covered in jungle, to farm land and some of the most basic houses I have ever seen since being in South America. We could really feel we were almost down to sea level as the air had changed from a clean crisp fresh feel to a heavy wet and hot feel and along with that the temperature had risen sharply along with the humidity. With that the traffic had become heavy and congested the closer we came to Turbo, we didn't have to go through this place luckily and we had our minds set on Arboletes, a small town on the Caribbean coast line.<br />
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Arriving early afternoon we found ourselves a cheap hostel on the waters edge and cooled down with a cold beer. Lucky for us an evening storm rolled through and the heavens opened up and it poured down raining cooling us off completely. We had Cartagena in mind so we were on the bikes the next day still heading north, firstly we had to stop by a volcan de lodo (mud volcano) for a refreshing all over mud mask straight from the volcano itself! It has to be one of the strangest feelings I have felt trying to swim through this thick mud. Just stop where you are and that's it, no sinking no putting your feet down as no one really knows how deep it even is, all the time in the centre mud is bubbling and spewing out keeping the volcano full with mud. After a long and exhausting effort of trying to get all the mud off our bodies, we geared up and hit the road for Tolu, another beach town which seems to only get domestic tourists so we were basically the only gringos in town.<br />
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After a couple of relaxed days on the beach, enjoying the warm weather we made our way for Cartagena via a stop at playa Blanca (white beach) which is known for its beautiful white sand and turquoise water. Anyone going here, DO NOT GO ON A SUNDAY! We arrived to a fully crowded beach, both in the water and out. Beach huts everywhere, highly inflated prices along with an even higher temperature and humidity that was stifling especially in our bike gear. No surprise that after a cold drink we were back on the bikes. We had really hoped that we could have camped somewhere on the coastline but was just not going to happen.<br />
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We rode into Cartagena on a Sunday afternoon which was a good decision as it was pretty quiet. We made our way straight into the old town where the majority of hostels are. Boy was it hot, being inside the walled area of Cartagena was nasty with no fresh sea winds to cool you down. The next thing was to try and find a cheap hostel which seems to be lacking here in the centre of town. We did finally find a place with air conditioning, we needed a treat after the past few days on the road. Before we could get in and have a shower though we had an interview with a lovely American girl, Casandra who we got talking to out the front of our hostel. I must say that I am sorry Casandra for how bad I smelt, polyester and man made fabrics don't smell too good after sweating in it all day, ok well it was not just my clothes that smelt, I was stinking!<br />
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After a well deserved cold shower we hit the streets and went for a short stroll around the streets of where we were staying. Being a Sunday evening it was busy and it felt like there was a bit of a buzz in the air. On many street corners there would be locals asking us if we were wanting any coke, and I am not talking about the cold beverage! I guess that is why I could pick up on the 'buzz' in the air. With such a big police presence on the streets I was surprised at how open these guys were being. We did later see a few guys being bailed up by the cops out the front of a hostel. Even though it was dark out it was still almighty warm and not a single bit of wind in the air to cool us down. Being within the confines of the walled city has its downfalls and one is that you do not get the benefit of an evening sea breeze. We admired one huge beautiful yacht sitting in the harbour and thought a ride across to Panama on it would have been very nice, probably a hell of a lot more expensive though than our possible boat ride to Panama.<br />
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The following day we walked further around the old city taking in the sites and enjoying the many colonial style buildings that are so colourful and well kept. We did however have to keep going from park to park and walk in any shade we could find. It was hot here but the humidity was what made it even worse. We found oursleves sneaking into air conditioned shops so we could cool down. By early afternoon we were shattered and were needing a break from the relentless heat. We headed back to the confines of our cool air conditioned room. Well, first surprise was that we no longer had our room and all of our stuff had been placed into the another room the size of a shoe box. No air con or door to the toilet. When we questioned the guy about it he made out as if we were all keen on the idea and that we should be happy to have a room now with a TV, bathroom and air con for the same price as a room without all the extras. We have found more and more lately that the Colombians like to save money on the building of hotel rooms, almost every time we get a room with private bathroom, the walls never reach the ceiling and you usually will not get a door and barely ever a toilet seat! Great for when you are not feeling so well. The managers were super strict when it came to the aircon and only had one single remote for all the airconditioners in the hostel which you had to ask for to change the temperature etc.<br />
Some where along the line Sanne upset the poor guy trying to run the place so next time when we returned after being out he thought it was his duty to turn the aircon off while we were out, so when we returned it was like an oven in our room again. All quite childish really but with a guy like that running the place we thought when we return to Cartagena we would stay somewhere else.<br />
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We had got to see a good amount of the city in the 2 nights we stayed but it was hot, really hot and I was wanting sun and surf and a nice quiet place to hang out. I was not going to get it in Cartagena so we decided we would hit the road the next day for Minca and the small coastal towns further north and return later to ship the bikes to Panama and see more of the city then.<br />
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Medellin</div>
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Sculptures by Botero</div>
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This Botero sculpture has a big hole in it from when someone planted a bag of dynamite inside it and blew it up</div>
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In some small town we stayed, the children had a parade but we were the main attraction</div>
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Chatting with a couple of local boys</div>
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Volcan de Lodo</div>
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Somewhere by the road headed for the coast</div>
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Prime cattle country here</div>
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The Caribbean sea at Tolu</div>
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Playa Blanca aka Hell on Earth?</div>
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Cartagena</div>
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Lots of street art around, this was one of my favourites</div>
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Funny enough these cannons do not even face the sea</div>
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Our first sighting of an Iguana, and of all places in the middle of Cartagena in a park</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-6262401234683672242014-09-24T01:54:00.001-03:002014-09-24T10:56:27.140-03:00Colombia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Sanne</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
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After crossing the Colombian border we went to see a church
we had been told about that is built in between the rocks in a narrow gorge -
Las Lajas Sanctuary. It was pretty impressive and while we were walking around
we discovered that Colombians are very much like Brazilians and Indians – they
love to take photos! I think we had photos taken with almost every single
person there and children were placed on our motorbikes as well. Everyone were
really friendly though and it gave us a good first impression of Colombians.
Because it was late in the day we decided to spend our first night in Colombia
in the border town of Ipiales. It was a fairly dull city and quite cold and
miserable as we were still up in the mountains. We found a cheap place to stay
with parking for the bikes and then had the meal of kings: chips for dinner as
we couldn’t find metholated spirits anywhere for cooking with.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The next day we rode to Popayan on a spectacular bit of road
that took us from the cold and wet mountains through dry and hot desert scape
for thereafter ending up in Popayan which was still very hot. We arrived in
Popayan in rush hour traffic and the small colonial streets were clogged with
cars. This wasn’t helped by the fact that Colombian streets have no names, only
numbers and there is no order in the numbers so it’s really hard to find the
address you’re looking for. In Popayan there was an abundance of machinegun
toting military in the streets but we found out that was because the president
was in town. We met a local policeman there who had a son who collected foreign
coins. We had a few coins from different countries so we contributed to his
collection and he brought us breakfast the next morning. He made us slightly
paranoid as he constantly jumped up and looked out the window to check on his
bike. He told us to be very careful in Colombia when it came to our bikes,
especially in the bigger cities like Cali and Medellin. We stayed in Popayan
two nights and left for Cali. On the way there we passed many military check
points but they mostly waved us through except once when they stopped us and
wanted to see our papers for the bikes, then proceeded to look inside my helmet
lifting up the inner liner and cushions to look for what I assume to be drugs.
Of course they didn't find anything and we were on our way. A funny observation
was that at most of these checkpoints the soldiers are giving thumbs-up to every
vehicle who passes. Apparently it means that it's all safe to pass.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Cali is a big city with just as indecipherable street numbering. After a couple
of wrong turns and having a group of black guys do an impromptu dance
performance for us at a traffic light we managed to find Hostel Casa Blanca
which used to be a biker’s hostel but it has just been sold so is now in a new
location and no longer has secure parking. We could park our bikes outside
though which we usually don’t do because of safety, but we couldn’t be bothered
to look for somewhere else so we did it. Here we met a French couple on a BMW
and an American on a shitty little Chinese bike. In Cali we tried
unsuccessfully to find a roadmap of Colombia but we did have success finding
SOAT, the required motorcycle insurance. Apparently if you don’t have it and
get stopped by the police they can confiscate your bike. We quickly discovered
that Colombia is expensive. Long gone are the low prices of Bolivia and Peru.
We have landed in a western world prices country. That really sucks for us as
our bank account is starting to get dangerously low. So we have to seriously
watch our money here where accommodation and food is that much more expensive.
Thankfully beer is still pretty cheap - phew!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Another observation we have made in Colombia: the Spanish they speak here is
like a different language altogether. By now I consider my Spanish to be fairly
good (although still far, far from fluent!) and in previous countries I haven't
had many problems making myself understood and having conversations with the
locals, but here... I feel like I'm back to square one. They speak super fast
and the words come out all muffled up, what's more is, they don't understand a
word of what I am saying either...it's really quite bizarre! Apart from the
language difficulties it must be said that the reputation the Colombians have
as friendly and warm is absolutely true. Many will go out of their way to help
us if we need anything or are looking for something. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We stayed in Cali two nights, big cities just don't agree with us, and I think
Mark feared being forced along to a salsateca (salsa club) so we left town to
ride to the Zona Cafetera - coffee country. As neither Mark nor I are coffee
drinkers we stuck to admiring the coffee plantations that spread out on either
side of the road while riding towards Salento, a small town in the Valle de
Cocora, a green valley with tall palm trees and coffee plantations all around.
Here we camped at a hostel just outside town and went for a bit of a dirt ride
the following day, which was nice until my battery decided to die and my bike
wouldn't start anymore. We bump started it and kept on riding but as the track
narrowed in and became increasingly steeper and more difficult and my bike kept
stalling it just made for a really difficult ride and so we turned around to
ride back to our camp. On the way there my bike stalled numerous times for
unknown reasons and we had to push it up hills to bump start it again and again
and in the high humidity it was hard work.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In Salento we were joined by Rick and Rahul, both Americans, Rick living and
working for a motorcycle tour company in Cali and Rahul was the guy with the
shitty Chinese bike (which actually later turned out to be shitty American
bike) we'd met in Cali. He decided he wanted to ride with us for a bit and so
after a few days in Salento we set off for Pereira, a nearby larger city to
look for a new battery for my bike. Pereira was a particularly rough-looking
city and the area where the motorbike stores were located was as rough as it
gets. While waiting for a new battery to be sourced, we had time to observe the
people around us and many of them seemed to favour the past-time of
glue-sniffing, quite openly as well. I saw junkie prostitutes being pulled
along by their pimps and a variety of other dodgy characters. Hence why we
didn't leave our bikes and stuff unattended for one second. We were in luck and
left with a new battery in my bike and the three of us left Pereira, quite
happy to see the back of this place.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We ventured onto a beautiful windy road, again through coffee country riding
east towards Honda. Well, we never made it that far. Because of the battery
stop in Pereira it had been quite a late start to the day and combined with the
very windy road, we didn't manage to get many kilometres under our belt and so
found ourselves riding in the dark. We therefore decided to stop in the town of
Fresno, another not so nice looking place, and found ourselves a cheap hotel.
It was while looking around for a hotel that my bike aka 'Christine' decided to
stop and not start again. This is just when a couple of dodgy looking
characters are walking towards me and there is me, stranded on a dark street
with a bike that doesn't want to start. Christine and I remained unharmed but I
had to walk her to a hotel not having a clue as to what the problem was as the
bike had been running fine all day after the battery change. The next morning
Mark had a fiddle around but could not find the problem. Adding to the
confusion was that at one point it did decide to start! Then trying once more:
nothing. Again another bump start was required and we were on our way again.
When we hit a traffic diversion later in the day (caused from a horrible
incident where a woman had been standing on the back of a moving truck and
fallen off and been decapitated) and rode over a bridge with the traffic
crawling, my bike once again stalled and there was I stuck on a bridge in 40
degree heat with hundreds of trucks behind me! This was starting to become
really frustrating and when I failed to bump start the bike rolling off the
bridge (the only "hill" for miles) Mark lost his sh*t and we had an
argument so stupid that resulted in us not speaking to each other for the rest
of the day! Oh the drama of it all :) Then Mark's clutch cable snapped later
on. Great day!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Our destination that day was the man-made dam of Guatape, 2 hours east of
Medellin. But again, a combination of bump-starting, windy roads and lots of
trucks meant that we only made it to El Penol which is just 12 km from Guatape
anyway, but we were all exhausted and it was late so we bunked down in a hotel
here for the night. The next morning Mark tried putting a new stator coil into
my bike and...voila! It fired up straight away! We rode to Guatape, climbed the
740 stairs to the giant rock that is El Penol and admired the view from the top
all over the dam which has created a stunning archipelago landscape for miles
and miles. Mark and I both agreed that we could see ourselves live here on a
little island in the dam. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Riding with Rahul was fun however at times a bit nerve wrecking! As he just
learnt to ride his bike a month or so ago in Ecuador he is still quite new to
riding and so still has a lot to learn about safe riding. Mark and I do our
best in teaching him not to overtake on blind corners etc and there have been
quite a few spills and close calls with other vehicles. However he is a very
willing learner and I think he will only improve with time. But he needs to get
himself a proper bike as the one he has now is not so great to put it
mildly. <o:p></o:p></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
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We spent a relaxing few days in and around Guatape and nearby San Rafael where
we camped for very cheap. It poured down with rain every afternoon and night
which seems to be the pattern around these parts. After this we felt we had
recharged our batteries enough to hit the big city of Medellin.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Bienvenidos a Colombia!</span></div>
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Las Lajas Sanctuary</div>
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From afar</div>
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Llama dressed to impress</div>
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The landscape from Ipiales to Popayan was dry, sun-scorched and very hot!</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Popayan</span></div>
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Lots of police presence</div>
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Odd street-art</div>
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Kids smoking pot right next to military and nobody seems to care...</div>
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The nice policeman who brought us breakfast</div>
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Mark playing up his alter-ego as a hairdresser, Rahul not seeming too relaxed about that</div>
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In front of Casa Blanca, Cali</div>
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Our trusty lunch-food-friend: Bandeja Paisa - it's very yummy!</div>
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Coffee and banana plants in the Zona Cafetera</div>
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Sweet little kid we met on a motorbike - he was riding up and down the road collecting wood</div>
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A friendly young boy we met when my bike battery died</div>
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The colourful houses of Salento</div>
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Valle de Cocora</div>
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Crazy dog we met in Salento - had an obsession with water</div>
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Didn't even know dogs bent that way</div>
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Riding with Rahul and his beast of a bike</div>
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Guatape</div>
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El Penol</div>
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And the crazy stairs climbing it</div>
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The pretty cobblestone streets of Guatape town</div>
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Odd hotel-sign featuring a slutty stewardess, a jumping fish and a helicopter carrying a truck...?</div>
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Colourful Tuk-tuk</div>
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"Don't go straight ahead here" Mark giving Rahul some riding instruction</div>
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Rahul and his unique riding pants</div>
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Camping outside Guatape</div>
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Siesta time!</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-60211325409808874372014-09-10T11:37:00.001-03:002014-09-10T11:37:27.657-03:00Ecuadorian Delights<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>By Mark</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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After the disappointment of Canoa we decided it would be
best to head back to the mountains and for the town of Banos which is
famous for its thermal baths and lush valleys topped off with its own active
volcano.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The ride there was going to be long, around 500kms which is
more than we usually like to ride in a day, but with not much in between we went for it.
The other reason was that if we arrived in Banos on a weekend all prices rise
in the hotels by 50%! So were going to make sure we had at least 2 nights
before the price rose. Soon as we left the coast the landscape changed
dramatically from a sunburnt, brown backdrop with the odd palms to lush green
hillsides and small winding roads. The road was littered with speed humps and
potholes but to take an eye off the road meant there would be the odd pothole
or two that you were sure to always hit. After the back roads through the hills
we came back out onto the main ‘highway’ east which was a much smoother
surface to ride on. Now we didn’t have to worry about potholes anymore, it was
just the stupid drivers instead. After negotiating our way through the first
sizeable city, we had problems again with Sanne’s sprocket coming loose. Luckily
I noticed it quickly, the main tell tale sign was engine oil over Sanne’s rear
wheel. Not the safest thing to happen. We were looking forward to getting
to Quito to get the bikes fixed but we were still awaiting parts, and now we
also needed new seals on the output shaft to stop this oil leak.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I tightened the nut that holds the sprocket on as tight as I
could and hoped that it would see us through to Quito, or at least Banos. Our
biggest problem was other road users this day. Their utter stupidity, ignorance
and lack of respect towards motorcyclists are outstanding. On one occasion as
we were headed down the road stuck behind a large vehicle a guy from way back
decides to overtake all vehicles in a procession in front of him as he was
headed towards a blind corner! No worries for him, I am sure he thought 'ah
there are only 2 motorcycles stuck behind the truck and I can force them off
the road as to not have an accident myself' and so he went about his business
not expecting me to hold my line and turn to verbally abuse him. In return I
got a mouthful of abuse and the middle finger for my troubles along with him
tailgating me until he could have another shot of getting around the ‘slower’
vehicles. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We were headed for more back roads to get away from the
madness on the main roads and this is where we started our steep ascent winding
back and forth up into the cloud forests and above. The surrounding landscape
was so beautiful with so many cacao plantations spotted along our route - that
was until we were high up into the mountains and everything became brown again.
Finally we popped out back onto another highway hoping to just cross it and
continue on through the back roads. Well our map was lying to us, there was a
road printed on our map but after asking around all the locals it has not been
built yet. Great, our so called short cut was not going to happen and now, and
was going to extend our trip by 50+ more kilometres. Not only this but we had
to keep climbing higher into the mountains and before we knew it back into the
clouds and freezing our arses off. Usually we are always prepared but this
particular day we left it too late to try and rug up, we stopped and added more
layers and put on our winter gloves, it never really worked and we found it
difficult to get warm so we just had to push on. As we got closer to Ambato the
sun was getting low and the traffic was picking up. There were not many signs
to Banos so we found ourselves stopping constantly to ask for directions which
slowed us down to the point we had no choice but to ride the last 40km’s in the
dark. It probably wouldn’t be so bad if our headlights weren’t so horrible.
They are fine if we are in the middle of nowhere with no traffic but we pushed
on finding ourselves squinting the rest of the way hoping for a safe arrival in
town.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We made it safely enough and were knackered after our long
eventful ride. The following day we headed straight for the thermal baths to
ease our aches and pains from the previous day's ride. We were not alone as
everybody else in town had the same idea. I couldn’t really say it was fully
relaxing as the pools were full of people and children screaming and so on, it
was nice at least to be in the beautiful surroundings with 2 water falls on
either side of the baths. It was also too hot to stay in for any length of time
so we thought we should check out the town and the many other things to do. <o:p></o:p></div>
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One of the activities is the bridge swing, somewhere between
50m to 100m above the fast flowing river
below is a rope hooked up to the bridge, then attached to some mental punter
who thinks it is a good idea to throw oneself over the edge superman style. I
am not usually bothered by heights and the like and thought at first when I saw photos
that I would be keen to give it a shot. Well that was short lived, soon as I
stepped onto the bridge I knew it was not for me. The operator tried to get us
to have a go, when we asked if he had ever tried it he answered with a NO, what
you think I am mad type of answer!<o:p></o:p></div>
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While in Banos we were really hoping to get a good view of
the volcano Tungurahua but the whole time we had nothing but cloud
surrounding the volcano. We decided we should push on since the weekend was
upon us along with the rising prices. We headed down the spectacular valley known
as the Via de las Cascadas (road of waterfalls) towards the Amazon basin and the town of Puyo where
many tourists head for treks into the Amazon. We came across the concrete
jungle known as Puyo and decided we should just keep going. So on the edge of
the Amazon we turned north for the town of Tena, known for its white
water rafting. The road twisted and turned all the while with the jungle
surrounding us, a great back drop to an uneventful ride through to Tena. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Our first observation of Tena was the huge amount of police
presence in town. Everywhere you looked on the street there
would always be at least 3 officers walking together down the street, we would
cross the road and then there would be the same amount or more again. They were
also very young which made us think there was some kind of police academy
there. After talking to the hostel owner he told us that it was to do with
drugs and that the police here don’t do anything and that they turn a blind eye
to most things, especially road/traffic violations, which of course we already were well aware.
There was not a whole lot to do in Tena, we decided not to head deep into the
jungle on a tour, for one it was expensive and we never like to go on ‘tours’
anyway but to always try and go the independent route. We spent our time
checking out the local protected forest in the middle of town and chilling out
by the river which ran right by our hostel room.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Our plan was to head for the Quilotoa loop and from there
to Quito. Again our map was lying to us and the road we had intended on taking
up a valley back into the mountains was non existent! We had heard that they
started making the road and only made it 20km’s before they decided to stop. We
never like to back track but we knew it was a scenic ride back to Banos so that
was where we headed. On the way back we stopped in Puyo to visit a monkey sanctuary there which was a nice experience. It was now Sunday, the prices were back to normal and we found
a great little place to stay after we managed to get around all the traffic
trying to get out of town. So happy we were not here for the weekend and the hoards
of domestic tourists who make their way here for just the weekend.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We were hoping to sneak a peek at the Volcano but it was
once again covered in clouds as is most of the sky in Ecuador, we did get to
see some smoke coming out quickly before the clouds rolled in once again. We
decided it was time to move on and check out some more of Ecuador including the
Quilotoa loop just south of Quito. It was not a long ride from Banos but the
weather turned for the worse for us not long after leaving, fortunately you
usually only need to travel another 30 minutes and the weather will change
again and it did. No rain but the higher we climbed the colder it became.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We were headed for a volcanic crater where there is a lake
inside. After passing by a large military group (no idea what they were doing
there) we took the very short walk to the rim of the crater. Sadly the sun was
not beaming down upon us and showing the beautiful colours of the water down
below but it was impressive all the same. <o:p></o:p></div>
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While we were taking pictures we noticed someone calling to
us, not having any idea who it was I turned my back and kind of ignored them,
it wasn’t until they were closer that we noticed it was some friends who we had
met back for the first time in Salta, Argentina. Mathias and Maria have been
travelling in their van all over South America and the last time we saw them
was when we had them over for dinner in Sucre, Bolivia. It was great to catch
up with them and to meet their travelling companions who are also Argentines.
We were invited to have lunch with them which was great. It was cold up at the
crater so after a great meal with good company we parted ways to find a hostel
for the night which we did in the village of Chugchilan.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After a cool night we had ourselves a short easy ride to our
next destination on the loop, Isinlivi. We had first heard about this place
after meeting a couple of Aussies on a motorcycle earlier this year who had
volunteered at this hostel. We liked the look of the place so we thought we
would check it out. It was a really chilled out place, expensive but nice. The
hosts, a Swiss couple made us feel very welcome and we hung out for the most of
the afternoon talking about our travels. As nice a place as it was we both agreed it was overpriced and we
probably would have went mad volunteering there for a long period of time, the
owners usually expect you to stay 2 months!<o:p></o:p></div>
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The time had come to move on but again we were taking only
small steps toward Quito as we had a place to stay with a fellow biker who runs
a hotel just south of Quito in the country side which is stunning farm land
mixed with parts of what used to be jungle. The hotel was once the family home
until Raul turned it into a hotel. Beautiful place that was quiet and Raul
cooked some great food. Just very lucky to have gotten the room for free!
We talked that hopefully we could take a ride together once we had our bikes
fixed and with that we were off to Quito and straight to Ecuador Freedom Bike
Rentals who we used to get our parts sent from the US. We made our way into
Quito easily and met up with Court and his partner Sylvain. Within minutes I was on the
back of a scooter and was taken to the post office to pick up just one of my
parcels as the other had yet to arrive. Court tried to stress us out telling us
over and over that UPS who had originally sent our parts were terrible and they
can take up to 3 months to deliver goods. We really hoped that this was not
going to happen.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We parted ways after meeting Diego their mechanic who was
going to help us out with our bikes to then meet up with Mateo, well his
brother anyway. We met Mateo back in Vilcabamba and he invited us to stay with him and his family in Quito. So we met up with Tomas his brother since Mateo
would be out of town for another day and we were shown to our room at their huge home in Guapulo. Well when I say room I actually mean a 3 bedroom apartment all to ourselves. We had landed on our feet again! It was not so close to the
centre or the old town but the taxis here are dirt cheap so that made life easy
to get around. The following day we received a message from Court telling me
that our other parts had arrived. Sweet! We met up with Diego again to organise
the work on the bikes including a new rear tyre for me now that my old tyre was completely bald.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This is where things started going down hill again. We were
meant to meet Diego at the workshop at 10am, Diego showed up 2 hours later with no
apology, he had been out in the hills riding his dirtbike... When inspecting the bikes there were a few other jobs that needed to
be done including machining 8 new valve guides, finding shims for the valves and
new gaskets. This was not going to happen over the weekend so we did what we
could and met up again on the Monday. On the Sunday we headed out to see some
of the city including the ride on the Teleferico up towards Volcano Pichincha which gives you an awesome view over the city. It was cold
and windy so we did not take the walk the rest of the way to the volcano, we
just took in the sights and marvelled at the 3 other volcanos that surround the
city. Next stop was the old town where there is a famous street, La Ronda. It
was nice walking around the old town but Quito was not really doing it for me. To top it off, I got pick-pocketed for the first time on this trip while on a crowded bus. They took the ipod which annoyed me not so much for the value, but more for all the music w had on there, photos and the map function on there that we would use in big cities. While in the old town we were looking for a place to spend a couple more nights as sadly
our apartment had been rented out. We spent the last night having dinner with Mateo
and his family which was great. We had not spent any time with many other
families for a while so it was a nice change.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After the weekend we were back at the mechanics to only be
told the machining of the new parts were going to take longer than expected.
Diego was quite blasé about the whole thing and we never quite knew where we
stood with him. There was another problem, this time my fault. When getting my
brother Callum to order the parts for me I made a mistake and ordered the wrong brand of rings for my piston and only 1 out of 3 fitted. Awesome, all this time spent to
get this fixed and I have the wrong parts. We left feeling a little deflated by
it all and tried again the next day. As the story goes we were delayed yet again,
while another company were looking after the machining of the valve guides they
snapped one while fitting it. Another day set back! Diego did little bits of
work here and there on the bikes while awaiting the top end but I was never
100% comfortable as to what the outcome on the bikes would be. He was not organised
and left everything to the last minute so the following day when we were meant
to get the bikes by early afternoon it became close to seven in the evening and
that was with my help putting the bikes back together. Diego also snapped a
bolt on the throttle cable when fitting it again to the carbie, again no apology
or that he could sort something out or pay for a new one, not that he could get
one in Quito anyway. There was also bolts missing when putting the bikes
together and he would look at me as if I should know where they are.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In the long run the bikes were put back together and started
fine. That was until the next day when leaving Quito after being there for a
week. I started my bike and a plume of grey smoke comes bellowing from my
exhaust. Great! After some time however the smoke stopped and we made our way
back to Diego. He was not around so I spoke with him on the phone about the problem, he
reassured me all was ok so we hit the road keeping an eye on the bikes
performance. Because of the hold up we never ended up getting to take that ride
with Raul sadly.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We were headed for Mindo, a small village in a valley
surrounded by lush green mountains, on the way we had a quick stop at Mitad del Mundo, the equator monument to take a
picture or two of crossing the equator. There was some small village set up for
tourists to take it all in, very cheesy in fact and we went and took the
obligatory photo before high tailing it out of there. Sadly the bikes did not
get in the shot. Twice we have now crossed the equator on opposite side of the
globe and no photos to prove it on the bikes.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We headed to Mindo on a roller coaster of a ride down into
Mindo, a sleepy village that attracts a few tourists with tourist prices
for accommodation. After searching around for a while we finally found a place
to call home for a few days. We spent our time strolling around town and the
rivers and topping it off with some more zip lining. It was fun to head up into
the cloud forest and check out the surrounding countryside with a view from a
cable as we sped across it. As good as it was it was nowhere as good as the one
we did back in Bolivia. After a couple of days chilling and trying to forget
about the previous problems with the bikes it was time to move on and we had
just one more night in Ecuador and that was in the market town of Otavalo. The
ride there was a perfect way to end our ride in Ecuador, nothing beats riding
dirt back roads with stunning nature all around you. Our last night was spent
camping on the outskirts of town where we enjoyed having the place to
ourselves.<o:p></o:p></div>
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All in all Ecuador was another great country to travel
through, even better if there were no other cars on the road. Having a little
bit of everything in such a small country the people of Ecuador should feel
very lucky for the beautiful country that they live in.<o:p></o:p><br />
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Where's Wally?</div>
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Can't you just see how impressed I was?</div>
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At least there was a lovely waterfall to look at while having a dip</div>
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The main river running past Banos</div>
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We came across some youngsters doing some dance show at half time of kids football in Tena</div>
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The tranquil view from our hotel room, Tena</div>
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Where 2 rivers meet</div>
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This guy enjoyed baring his teeth to us, at the monkey sanctuary Puyo</div>
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While this little fella probably would have preferred to be on the outside of his cage</div>
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Laguna Quilotoa</div>
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Sanne with Mathias and Maria</div>
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Having a tasty lunch with the Argentines</div>
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Chillin at llullu llama hostel in Isinlivi</div>
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Room with a view, this particular room is the toilet!</div>
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This 'friendly' cat thought I was its mother!</div>
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With Raul at his hotel, Sierra Alisos</div>
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Street art, Quito</div>
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The babies getting some much needed attention</div>
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Sanne thought this was pretty!</div>
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Volcano Cotopaxi in the distance overlooking Quito, we are standing on Volcano Pichincha</div>
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My Something About Mary moment?</div>
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La Ronda, old town Quito</div>
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Iglesia Guapulo</div>
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Mateo next to Sanne and his welcoming family</div>
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Tomas giving me a little gift of vegemite that was given to him by his girlfriend, needless to say the whole family hates it</div>
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Basilica del Voto Nacional</div>
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I like to get the most out of my tyres</div>
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The view from our room in the Old Town, looking at La Virgen de Quito</div>
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Same again but in the daylight</div>
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That's me looking totally excited at the Equator</div>
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While Sanne was ecstatic about being there</div>
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Obviously the excitement was too much to handle for Sanne</div>
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This cat was loving Sanne's bike to the point it still would not get off when we tried to leave one day for a ride</div>
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Zip lining fun, not sure what I was trying to do there</div>
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In a slightly compromising position, 'superman style'</div>
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A few shots from Sanne after visiting the local butterfly farm</div>
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We loved the scenery throughout Ecuador</div>
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We stopped at this waterfall for a quiet break for lunch</div>
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Didn't know what to expect when taking a detour around road works, It wasn't this that's for sure</div>
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Great little tracks to all but finish off our time in Ecuador</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-13568748300822197902014-08-24T00:01:00.001-04:002014-08-24T00:07:23.217-04:00A Muddy Welcome to Ecuador<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Sanne</i><br />
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So, our time in Peru had come to an end and we found ourselves at the border to our next country: Ecuador. We were crossing over at the jungle border crossing of La Balsa which basically consist of no more than a couple of sheds that houses immigration and customs and an 'international bridge' across a river that divides the two countries. We pulled up to do the formalities on the Peru side, geared up in our wet weather gear as it hadn't stopped raining since we woke up that morning, and from what we were told the rain is pretty much a constant here - even though it's the dry season. In this part of the world where we are now getting closer to the tropics, dry season simply means LESS rain.<br />
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You know you are at an outpost border crossing when there is a frickin' chicken wandering about in the immigration office. The immigration officer didn't seem to care that a chicken was scurrying around his feet so it's probably part of the furniture by now. We got our obligatory exit stamps and within minutes we were done with the customs procedures as well. Love it when border officials are so quick and efficient. I should mention that we were the only ones there so it's not like there was a big queue.<br />
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We rode across the 'international bridge' which is not as grand as it sounds - about 20 metres long and right on the other side were the offices of the Ecuadorian border. Immigration here was swift as well and we got a 3 month stamp in our passports. Then it was off to customs... Well, I can't blame the guy really, it can't be that exciting to be stationed here as a customs official, which is probably why he welcomed the chance to keep us there for company... First, Mark didn't have the THREE required copies of our drivers licenses and passports, and the only photocopier was across the river on the Peruvian side, so Mark and the customs guy walked back into Peru to make some copies! When they returned the painfully slow process of punching our data into his computer began, while we patiently sat on the opposite side of his desk and waited... After he was done and printed out some documents for us to sign he realized he had made an error on my form so he had to do it all over again! In between the paperwork, he would tell us about places to see in Ecuador and tales about other woeful travelers who had overstayed their visa and had to pay thousands of dollars in fine. One of the documents we signed it mentions that for each day you overstay, the fine is $318! So Ecuador is not a place you want to overstay your welcome.<br />
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I'll give it to the guy that he was really nice and friendly but his faffing about meant that we didn't leave there until 1pm, after two whole hours. On the road we had ahead of us, we weren't sure we could make it all the way to Vilcabamba that day but we were going to push as far as we could. We had heard it was muddy and the reports were right! As it rains here every day of the year the road never really has a chance to dry out so it's permanent state is a sloppy mess. The road started climbing immediately after leaving the border and we had to navigate some really steep switchbacks up the hill which were very slippery. The scenery was absolutely stunning. The greenest, densest rainforest spread out all before our very eyes, and what is it about a dirt road that makes nature all the more beautiful? I've often wondered about that. With all the mud we kind of had to keep our eyes on the road though, especially when we came to a steep descent down a slippery hill. It was long, it was steep and it was slippery as hell. I followed a few metres behind Mark, just rolling down in first gear, not touching the brakes and just hoping that the bike would stay upright. They both did and about a hour later we arrived in Zumba, about 25 kms from La Balsa. After here the road improved a little...then deteriorated a little. As it is the plans of the Ecuadorian government to eventually seal this whole section there is quite a bit of roadworks going on, and on these sections of roadworks the road was quite a mess. The constant running over the mud with heavy machinery has resulted in a soup-like surface which is like nothing I have ever seen before. Think what diarrhea looks like and that's what we rode on. So it was pretty slow going and the rain that had been a constant drizzle all day had now become heavier. We arrived in the small town of Palanda by late afternoon and really had no choice but to stay here the night. We found a cheap hotel with a friendly owner who had safe parking for our bikes nearby. A nice touch was that his brother left his own house to go and sleep in a small room next to the bikes for extra safety.<br />
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The next morning we set off on the last stretch to Vilcabamba which was mainly all tarred, so we got there pretty quickly. On the way we stopped to chat with a couple in a sidecar that were heading the way we had come from. When Vilcabamba came into view it wasn't quite what I had expected in that it wasn't nearly as green as I had thought it would be. It is set in a valley surrounded by mountains but most of the mountains have no more trees on them as a result of logging. The town itself, like most other South American towns, was pretty ordinary and as it was a Sunday it was full of people, all Ecuadorian tourists, lunching in cafes on the main square. We had heard of a nature reserve out of town where you could camp so we headed there. Rumi Wilco reserve is a beautiful government protected privately owned nature reserve on 30 hectares. The camping was down by the river and nice but it was via a walking trail only so we took a room instead. It was a great little place just a short walk from town and we ended up staying there for three nights. Here we met Mateo from Quito who I later got an email from inviting us to stay at his house when we get to Quito, which we're looking forward to. While we were here we ordered parts for our bikes (pistons and rings) or rather Callum, Mark's brother did it all for us from Australia. Hopefully they'll arrive in Quito not too late so we can get them fitted and our bikes can stop using oil.<br />
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From Vilcabamba we rode to Cuenca, the third-largest city in Ecuador and with the reputation as the prettiest. On the way here we had our first real flash of what Ecuadorian drivers are like... And we thought Peruvian drivers were bad. There is a very real chance of me kicking in someone's car door while we're here. It was all in all a pretty shitty ride, it was wet, cold and then all these fucktards on the road to deal with. Not only are they horrible drivers but they are also quite aggressive, drive really fast and have no respect for motorcyclists - a pretty dangerous combination. It was move over or become part of the bonnet. We didn't see a whole lot on the way there either as we rode in a perpetual cloud from all the rain. But we eventually arrived in Cuenca and found a hotel with a garage for the bikes across the street. Cuenca is a beautiful city as we learned when we walked around it the next day in our search for third party insurance which we were unable to get in Vilcabamba. This turned into quite an ordeal and we ended up walking all over the city to find where we could buy this bloody insurance which is apparently a requirement in Ecuador and our Mercosur insurance we purchased back in Buenos Aires doesn't cover these next countries. After having been into numerous banks (where locals can buy it but foreigners can't) and after numerous insurance companies who all seemed to have some lame excuse for not being able to do it like: having run out of the paper forms and not being able to put our plate number into the computer, we finally found an insurance office that could do it for us, just before they closed for lunch. It was super cheap: $3 per bike for a month. It's probably not even worth the paper it's written on but now we've got it.<br />
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After two nights in Cuenca we wanted to go to the coast for some sunshine so we headed west across El Cajas National Park which is a cold moor-like mountainous area. Again here it was quite foggy and there was lots of riding around in clouds not being able to see a damn thing. That is what it is, but when on top of that you also have to deal with Ecuadorian drivers...well, that makes it all the more 'fun'. You cannot fathom the stupidity of these drivers and the chances they are willing to take in traffic. The overtaking is the worst. They will overtake usually on a blind corner and then when they are about to have a head-on with an oncoming car they rapidly swerve into your lane with no regard for a motorbike. This makes it really difficult to be able to enjoy the ride as you have to watch in front of you as well as behind you at all times. The stupidest thing I saw that day was a long truck going full speed down the hill right at our wheels while we're riding through clouds in basically complete blindness, only able to see a few metres in front of us. The truck must have thought we were holding him up because he floors it past us into the oncoming lane, around a blind corner and in total blindness. They must put their lives in the hands of god like they do in India, because that is the only explanation to this madness! Is it wrong of me that I sometimes wish they have an accident? Anyway, somehow the truck escaped unscathed, nothing less than a miracle I tell you, on this busy road.<br />
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Almost off the hill we pulled into a rest stop for a break off the bikes. While Mark is inside I notice a drop of oil underneath my bike. I kneel down and discover that everything from the engine and swing arm to the tyre, rim and bash plate is completely covered in oil. Hmm...that's not good. I signal to Mark inside the shop that something is not good out here and when he comes out he sees what I mean. He pulls out his tool bag and starts dissembling the bike after cleaning the oil off it. He immediately sees that the sprocket is really loose but it started raining so we had to look for cover which we found behind and below the building. So the sprocket was loose, and Mark manages to track down the oil leak to here. It doesn't make sense that a loose sprocket should cause all this oil to have leaked out (it had lost almost all the oil in the engine! good thing we stopped when we did) but after Mark had tightened it and taken it for a ride it stopped leaking. By this time we decided to set up tent here for the night, behind the petrol station. We considered asking for permission but we worried they would say no so we just did it anyway.<br />
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The next morning we headed towards the coast where we had to navigate around the biggest city in Ecuador, Guayaquil. Lucky for us we were helped by a local man and fellow biker who rode in front of us in his car with his hazards on so we could follow him. He made it super easy to get around this big city and waved us goodbye as he continued on his way. Soon after we were on the coast, and headed north on the coastal road towards Montanita. Well, what can I say about Montanita? Schoolies on the Gold Coast comes to mind. We left it behind and kept heading north through several little villages, none of them really appealing to us. Then, after riding through blue skies, the climate all of a sudden changed and we had gone from dry coast to rainforest within a few kilometres. The winding road lead inland through this cloudforest for a bit before we again were on the coast and in the surf village of Ayampe. It was beautiful here, albeit not sunny, in fact quite wet, but we agreed that this was the best we had seen so far so we found a lovely little Swiss-owned hostel where we could camp in the garden. We stayed here for two nights but unfortunately the weather was so miserable the entire time that we never got in the water. Apparently it rains here year-round, now that it's winter it drizzles all through the day whereas in the summer it rains heavy during the night but the sun shines during the day.<br />
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From Ayampe we rode just 20 kms to Puerto Lopez from where we boarded a boat to go see some whales. Humpback whales migrate to here every winter to mate and sightings are practically guaranteed. Mark and I have both seen whales from land before but never up close on a boat. As per usual I popped a seasickness tablet which was good I did because it was pretty choppy out there! Within long these magnificent animals showed themselves and started popping out of the water all over the place on each side of the small boat. First we followed a family with a little calf for a bit before we left them to it and started looking for another group. While looking into the distance trying to spot signs of life, in the distance I see this giant thing rising out of the water followed by a huge splash. I have just seen a whale breaching and I am very excited by this fact. We head towards the splash with the boat and find a group of males chasing a female (or so we're told by the guide). These whales were huge, about 14-16 metres in length which is as big as they grow. It was an absolute pleasure to watch them frolicking about and see their big barnacle-covered heads when they popped up for air. I saw one more whale breach which was really cool. After all the whale watching was done the boat pulled up in a cove and whoever wanted to could jump in for a snorkel which we did but it wasn't that great really, not very clear and because the sun wasn't shining it was quite dark. But the water temperature was surprisingly nice.<br />
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We made it a whole 10 kms more up the road where we camped in the hotel grounds right on the beach. The following day we went to the beach of Los Frailes which is within a national park and really unspoilt. The sun was 'kind of' shining so I took the opportunity to get my tan on in my bikini which has seen very little use here in South America. We had a laugh watching all the locals get smashed by the waves which they would just stand and look at while they came rolling towards the poor buggers; they would cop it right in the face and go down like a deck of cards! I'm sorry but it was really funny.<br />
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From here Mark and I were at a bit of a disagreement of where to go next. I wanted to head inland again to go towards the mountains, but Mark said he desired a bit more time on the coast; I think he was hoping to get some good waves somewhere which hadn't happened yet. He wanted to head north a couple of hundred kms to Canoa, a surf town. I had a feeling that Canoa would be a let down and to be honest we had a bit of an argument about this. In the end I relented and Mark got his way and we rode to Canoa which was actually a nice ride, again through numerous changing micro climates, from arid to lush and back to dry again. There were boabs in bloom which I have never seen before which was quite a sight, never took any photos though as we were on a highway.<br />
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Canoa was, as I predicted, a total letdown. The town as well as the beach was ordinary and the surf was all blown out. We spent a night there and left the next day. The Ecuadorian coast had been frankly a bit disappointing. I hope Columbia can deliver on this when we get there.<br />
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La Balsa border</div>
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The start of our muddy ride</div>
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There were some fair size water crossings to traverse as well</div>
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Beautiful green countryside all around</div>
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Palanda</div>
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The goop we had to ride in</div>
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Rocks ahead</div>
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Rumi Wilco Nature Reserve, Vilcabamba</div>
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Looking over Vilcabamba from Rumi Wilco</div>
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Cuenca</div>
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Lots of pretty old buildings in Cuenca</div>
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Riding in clouds...</div>
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Side of the road workshop, trying to fix my oil leak</div>
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Ayampe</div>
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Not a bad place to hang out and check Facebook!</div>
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Whale watching at Puerto Lopez</div>
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Our view from our campspot</div>
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Los Frailes beach</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-77614784803704442402014-08-21T20:45:00.000-04:002014-08-21T20:45:28.964-04:00From the mountains to the coast and to a back water border crossing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Mark</i><br />
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After a long day’s ride crossing over the Cordillera Blanca
the previous day we decided it was time for some warmer weather, so we were
headed for the coast. We had one main intention outside just wanting to be warm
for a change; Sanne’s tyres were now balding on the rear and the front and with
now some 30,000km’s it was due for a change. We were headed for the big city of
Trujillo on the coast where we had heard we had a good chance of finding tyres,
however since every other place we had been to in Peru had nothing we were not
holding our breath.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The ride there even without finding tyres was worth every
minute of it. The road we took is known as the ‘Tunnel Road’ which has about
30-40 tunnels that have been carved out of the mountains. It is also one of the
most dangerous roads we have ridden. In this case it is not the Peruvian
drivers who make it dangerous but the road itself. The condition is quite good
but when you have a nice layer of small marble type rocks that cover over the
hard asphalt surface it makes for some sketchy riding, not something you want
to have to concentrate on when you have many one-way only tunnels that you
cannot see through to the other side and when outside the tunnels you have
crazy drops off the side of the road into the gorges below with a torrent of
water flowing hard you would not stand a chance of surviving, all things said,
it was a great ride and when riding in these sorts of conditions - it makes you
feel alive! </div>
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It took us a long time to head down this road, firstly leaving too
late, stopping to take numerous photos and of course stopping for a good long
lunch break. This used up a good chunk of the day so we decided to have
an easy day and not make it to the coast, the sun was shining, the weather was
warmer now we had dropped down low into the valleys and we had a great day enjoying
the changing scenery with some of it reminding me of northern Argentina and the
passes we had taken over the Andes in the South. As the valley opened up, the
landscape took on a lush green look from all the farming that was being done on
the river banks. This was the opportunity we were looking for - a great bush camp and I found a great spot.
Right on the edge of the river with the perfect spot on sand to put the tent, a
few bushes for hiding us out of sight and a tree for shade and a spectacular
view of the surrounding mountains, what more could you want? Well a cold beer
would have gone down a treat but that would have to wait.</div>
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The following day saw us ride into Trujillo and with little
signage and no map of the city we had fun trying to navigate our way around the
city, the best thing was there is no shortage of taxis and traffic lights so we
found ourselves constantly asking the taxi drivers for directions. I finally
managed to find a bike store up a side road and slipped inside to enquire about
tyres expecting to hear the usual ‘no hay’ (don’t have) but to my surprise they
had what I was looking for: a new set of Pirelli’s for Sanne and at a nice low
cost of $120 for the two tyres. When I walked out Sanne was very happy to see
what her baby would be getting fitted that afternoon!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Just north of Trujillo is a surfing village by the name of
Huanchaco. This was our destination. We had barely spent any time on the coast
all the way up through Peru so now I wanted a piece of the action and with some
nice waves to throw into the mix, I was chuffed. First job though was to change
the tyres, Sanne had the job of changing the front and I drew the short straw
and had to do the rear. My love for changing tyres has not grown more fondly
over the years and when I get right into the middle of changing the tyres I
wonder why the hell I don’t just pay some other poor bloke to do the job! Well
after only just a little swearing this time I got it fitted but who needs to put
them back on the bike when you are not going anywhere the next day. So we
headed to the beach but not before a quick stop at the shop for a few cold
beers to take with us to watch the sunset. When I say sunset I mean watching
the sky go dark. All along the Peruvian coastline, well actually when you get
between 30 to 50 km’s away the entire sky becomes hazy, hiding the glare of the
daytime sun. So we enjoyed the beer and hoped for a good day to follow.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We were in luck and after getting Sanne’s bike back together
I hit the beach! I got myself a body board for the day and went about
destroying myself in the waves. It was the first time in many many years I have
been out for a good surf and this day was turning out to be a good one. I had a
short break for some lunch to recharge my batteries before heading back out for
an afternoon surf. By the time I was done for the day, I wished that I had just
stayed in after lunch. I was a mess, I could barely walk after being pounded
into submission time and again out in the surf but I loved every moment of it,
just not the next day when I struggled to get out of bed. Yes, I finally now
realise how out of shape I am. <o:p></o:p></div>
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After my frolic in the waves and Sanne happy to be warmer
again where else to go but back into the mountain. This time headed for
Cajamarca. This city is well known to be the end for the Incas and where the
Spanish killed the last reigning Inca Atahualpa. After a long day riding up
steep mountain sides with deathly drops, stopping in small villages and
chatting with locals, some which were a little drunk but very friendly giving
us some free pineapples to take with us we decided to call it a day about
30km’s outside Cajamarca where I found an outstanding place for a wild camp.
Nothing better then camping in the nature and when there is no one around, well
there was this one guy that wondered back to his motorbike with a shotgun
parked not that far from where we were camped but it was all good.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We arrived in Cajamarca early hoping to check straight into
a room but that was not going to happen, we had to wait 2 hours for our room
but it was well worth it. We had a large room overlooking the main plaza in
town and what a great spot to sit and people watch. We have noticed the further
you travel north in Peru the change in hats people wear, they have gone from
being smallish, similar to the hats in Bolivia and what the Cholitas wear to
these enormous wide brimmed hats with very high tops in the hats, they look
very cool but on a small old Peruvian man they are hilarious being so over sized
but cool all the same.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We spent a little time looking around but with our minds on
Ecuador and getting North we didn’t hang around that long. There was another
thermal baths just outside town and we stopped by to check it out, but after
seeing the size of the queue to get in we thought better of it and hit the road
after chatting to some cyclists from America who gave us a little heads up as
to what we should expect of the road conditions in Southern Ecuador. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We were headed for Kuelap, a pre-Colombian citadel situated
on a ridge overlooking the Utcubamba Valley in northern Peru, it is roughly 600
meters in length and 110 meters in width. Radiocarbon dating samples show that
construction of the structures started in the 6th century AD and occupied until
the Early Colonial period (1532-1570). However, through the pre-Columbian, conquest
and colonial periods there are only four brief references to Kuelap. In lieu of
newly discovered documents, there exists no other testimony concerning the site
until 1843. The site is impressive sitting high up on the ridge consisting of
over 400 buildings and used to home approx. 3,000 people. The best thing about
going to visit these old remains is that we didn’t have to do any stupid climb
early in the morning to try and beat the hoards of tourists like at Machu
Picchu. It is hard to compare this place to Machu Picchu, they are both quite
different in style and in appearance and nothing can match the landscape of
Machu Picchu. There are also families living right beside the remains in houses
and working the land to survive. This would never happen at Machu Picchu. I
enjoyed the place immensely, wondering around the perimeters and enjoying that
it was a little less manicured and left as it was found. It was also great
because there were not so many tourists. Here we found many more domestic
tourists than foreigners.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After our little detour up the sketchy mountain roads and
back, which we managed to survive, we headed onto Chachapoyas, a small town
sitting up over a valley which is home to more ruins and no shortage of treks
and waterfalls. After finding a place to sleep which took a while to find safe
parking for the bikes we headed out to a vegetarian restaurant where we made
friends with the young daughter of the chef. She was quite happy to sit and
chat away to us even after her mother told her to leave us alone. As we got our
food that didn’t stop her and she kept going telling us what her favourite food
was and after asking her what her favourite subject was at school she replied
with saying ‘my friends’? Well I guess she is the one who is the most social in
her group. We did finally kind of get her to leave, this was after I took her
very small pink scarf and beanie and put them on. The look of horror that came
over her young face at the sight in front of her, some dirty gringo with
knotted hair wearing her beanie and her scarf. She was not so keen on me after
that and took it and put it away somewhere I couldn’t get to it until we
finished our very cheap and very big meals and said goodbye.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We still had a few more miles to make it to the border so we
stayed only one night and kept heading North through an ever changing
landscape. All day we would see huge changes in the landscape from riding by
rivers, winding our way through deep valleys to open rolling hills with a very
dry hot and arid feel to finishing off the day in beautiful green cloud forests
of San Ignacio, our last port of call in Peru. We found a quiet place to bunker
down for the night, not always easy to find in Peru before heading to La Balsa,
and the border of Ecuador. That afternoon like the previous we were befriended
by another young curious girl. We were
sitting in the plaza taking in the day we had just had, enjoying a cold beer
when the young girl starts approaching us, firstly hiding behind a post until
she slowly builds enough courage to come talk to us. She went from being very
shy to being BFF with Sanne after only five minutes. She even had Sanne running
around and playing hide and seek.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We awoke the next day to rain and decided what’s one more
day in Peru, so we had a chilled out day, I found myself wandering around
getting many strange looks from the locals, it is a small town after all that
sees only a small amount of tourists as it is a little out of the way for most
backpackers all the while Sanne wrote and updated the blog. We awoke again to
much the same weather as the day before and decided we should leave as we had
heard that the weather is pretty much like this every day. We headed off for
the border and took in as much as I could of what remained of Peru. After
spending nearly three months in Bolivia and just five weeks in Peru, it felt
like I could have stayed longer but we were so happy with what we had seen and
all that we had experienced. Apart from the drivers what is not to love about
Peru? The ever curious locals, rich and interesting cultures, fascinating
landscapes from the jungles to the mountains to the sea.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The start of the tunnels</div>
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Thought this was a cool image hooning through one of the many tunnels</div>
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Towards the end of the road the valley closed right in around us</div>
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There was a big mix of tunnels, natural hand carved to these cement ones</div>
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Sanne chillin out after some lunch</div>
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Another day another great wild camp with a backdrop to match<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CeV_Zuk2RsU/U_Z4ECfahSI/AAAAAAAAJ0k/yoWo51vvOEY/s1600/SA309432.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CeV_Zuk2RsU/U_Z4ECfahSI/AAAAAAAAJ0k/yoWo51vvOEY/s1600/SA309432.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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Huanchaco beach</div>
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No shortage of Pelicans around here</div>
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Blue footed Boobie</div>
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Feeling buggered after an awesome day of catching waves</div>
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Our incredible ride to Cajamarca was full of great views including this one, and that is a sheer 200m+ drop on the left</div>
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Peru has it all when it comes to the best scenery and backdrops for riding</div>
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Love stopping in small non touristic villages and talking with the locals</div>
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Another free camp up in the mountains, bliss</div>
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The cool view from our room in Cajarmarca</div>
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Another view back towards town. See, just over there is our place</div>
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The latest in cooking equipment, the wheel barrow?</div>
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The Cathedral in the main square</div>
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Beautiful by night</div>
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More deadly drops</div>
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Kuelap ruins in the north east of Peru</div>
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It is now home to Llamas</div>
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Would have been an incredible looking village back in the day</div>
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The short walking trail along the ridge looking back across the surrounding mountains</div>
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You know you are getting further north when you come across rice paddies</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-64058814698973563712014-08-08T19:08:00.002-04:002014-08-08T19:08:45.464-04:00Video Game Rides<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Sanne</i><br />
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<span lang="EN-AU">So as it were, we were unable to go to
Huaraz via our planned route because of these damn road works. Peru has without
a doubt been the country with the most amount of road works. The upside of this
is that the government is committed to building better roads for the people,
the downside is that it means long holdups for drivers, in most cases the road
is closed for an entire day from 8-5 and as these roads mostly are in the
mountains, there are no alternative roads to take; all you can do is wait.
Instead we now had to do a 500 km detour out to the coast to get back to the
mountains when the original route would have been half that. From Huanuco we
rode south to the village of Ambos where we turned off the main road and onto a
small dirt road that was going to take us through a valley alongside the
Cordillera Raura. In Peru there are all these Cordilleras (mountain ranges)
that run east to west from inland and to the coast and they are all stunning. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">In the beginning the road was pretty rough but it gradually got better and we
were happily surprised to learn that it took us through a beautiful valley with
next to no traffic on it. We stopped in the village of Yanahuanca to buy some
food for lunch and within minutes we had a small crowd of locals around us, who
were curious about us and our trip. We have found that as much as we HATE the
Peruvian drivers – we adore the people (when we’re not sharing the road with
them!) They have got to be some of the nicest people we have met in South
America and very curious and talkative. Many times we have been approached by
strangers asking us if we need any help or just simply asking us about our
trip. In this particular little town Mark was lead by a local female police
officer to the market to buy some vegetables – apparently there’s not much else
to do there for the police apart from escorting gringos around buying tomatoes!
The locals told us a quicker road to take from there which shaved 2 hours off
our trip which was nice. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">The ride took us alongside a river and eventually up
into the mountains and over a 4737m pass, the whole time the sun was shining
down on us and there was barely a soul on the road. That was until we got about
50km from the town of Sayan; we rode past a long queue of trucks, buses and
cars and when we came to the front we realised why. Surprise, surprise: f..king
road works! We were told by the other drivers that it was 50kms of road works
and that it had been closed all day and would open at 6pm. Well, as annoying as
it was, luckily it was already 5.30 so we only had half an hour to wait. However,
as the locals told us, be very careful when they open the gate, people will go
very fast! Some people would have been here for up to 10 hours, so one can
maybe understand their eagerness to get moving, but one would maybe assume that
most people would drive with a certain amount of precaution on a stretch of
road like that. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">Well, as Mark would say: assumption is the mother of all
f..k-ups! As the clock inched closer to 6pm, people were starting up their engines,
beeping their horns and yelling at the man with the lollipop stick to let
people go. Luckily for us, lollipop man signalled that motorbikes could go
through and off we went. We were really giving it some in order to beat the 1.
Fast approaching sunset and 2. Fast approaching drivers behind us. We had 5
minutes on them and we knew the craziness that was going to ensue as soon as
they were allowed to go, it would be like someone dropping a chequered flag and
waving a thousand dollar bill in front of them; we didn’t feel like being part
of that race. So with a <i>handful of
throttle</i> (see what I did here?) we rode as if we were in our own little
race, trying to ride as fast as we could on this wet and bumpy road work
section, all the while keeping an eye in the side mirror for headlights
catching up to us. As the sun slid behind the mountains and the sky darkened,
the first lights appeared in the distance...from behind <i>and</i> from straight ahead. None of this one direction at a time crap,
no we’re gonna let everyone go at the same time on this one-car wide road, just
to see what happens! </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">As the cars caught up to us, they flew past us with only
inches to spare, leaving us covered in dust and mud. We knew better than to try
and race them, we would always come out the loser as the drivers here are just
willing to take risks that we are not, such as overtaking on plainly blind
corners and just narrowly missing head-ons with oncoming traffic. Especially
after my recent incident where I had chased down a car and almost gotten killed
for it, I had realised: no road rage is worth dying for. By now, we were riding
in complete darkness and it was like being in a video game. With our visors
caked in dust we had to ride with them open which meant our faces were caked in
dust, but at least we could see <i>some</i>thing.
Cars were whizzing past us left, right and centre and here were we just trying
to stay upright... and alive. All we could really make out was the headlights
from other vehicles, the road surface we couldn’t judge before we rode over it
which at times made for some slipping and sliding across wet mud, but as
exhausting as it was to concentrate so much on the road we kept it upright and
powered on! After having ridden in the dark for about an hour we finally
arrived in Sayan, completely pooped after this crazy ride and stumbled into the
first hotel we saw and crashed onto the bed. Thank god for the hot shower and
cable-tv!</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">After a much needed sleep, we woke up the
next morning to a cloud-filled sky. It seems that here in Peru, as soon as you
get within 50kms of the ocean, you encounter the FOG. I’m sure there is some
natural, geological explanation to this phenomenon, but frankly I can’t be
bothered looking it up. If someone knows the answer, let me know, OK? We did about 50kms on the PanAm before we
gladly turned off and went towards the mountains again. From here it was an
enjoyable 200km ride to our destination of Huaraz in the middle of the
Cordillera Blancas. As we were stopped by the side of the road taking some
photos, another motorbiker pulled up on a Vstrom and removed his helmet. Turns
out it was Marius, a German lad we had meet way back in Uyuni, Bolivia. We had
a quick chat with him and the three of us rode into Huaraz in the early
afternoon. It quickly became clear to us that we had arrived in Huaraz at the <i>worst</i> time possible. Turns out it was a
national holiday in Peru for the Independence Day. Today was Friday and people
had holidays until the following Wednesday. Not just that, but Huaraz seemed to
be the place most people chose to spend this holiday as the Independence Day
collides with the anniversary of Huaraz. Long story short – it was <i>impossible</i> to find a place to stay.
Everywhere was booked out, and the places that weren’t, didn’t have parking. We
were about to give up when we finally found a hostel called Jo’s Place that
also was full but had camping in the garden. We were just happy to have found a
place to sleep! </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">There’s not a whole lot to say about Huaraz, it’s not a particularly
interesting nor pretty place. We tried to look for tyres for me but no one had
what we wanted so I just had to keep on rolling on my increasingly bald tyres.
We spent 4 nights here, one night more than planned because of cloud, but as we
headed off on the 5<sup>th</sup> day the sky was ever so blue and the view over
the mountains was marvellous. Our agenda on this particular day was to do a
loop through the Cordillera Blanca that crosses over two passes and links back
onto the main road again. On the map it looked like an easy little ride of
maybe 300kms or so, a mix of asphalt and dirt. It was a beautiful ride.
However, a lot longer than we had imagined. The whole ride took us about 9
hours. That’s right, 9. The asphalt part was easy enough, very windy but smooth.
But the dirt section, man, it was pretty rough! Within long we both had lactic
acid building up in our arms from all the bumping around on rocks and our asses
felt like they had been spanked with a baseball bat. Up and up the mountains we
went, for what seemed like forever, until we got to the snow covered pass where
we slipped and slided through the slush before setting off on the descent from
the pass. Here our preferred method of transport might have been a boat instead
of motorbikes, as this road was really more like a river from all the melting
snow from the mountain. Like our other recent video game ride, this time we
were also racing against time to get off this mountain before the sun
disappeared completely and like the other time, we lost. It seemed to take just
as long to get off the damn mountain as it did getting up. </span>I was so drained of
energy that I seriously considered sliding off my bike onto the road and just
sleep wherever I happened to fall. Around every other corner we were met by yet
another rabid dog to bite at our ankles, however by now we carry rocks in our
tank bags and we are not afraid to use them! Lucky for the dogs though we’re
not great shots. We finished the day in Caraz, too tired to cook, shower or
anything, just sleep was on our minds. We both conceded that we could easily
live without any more of these wild video game rides...</div>
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In Yanahuanca with new friends</div>
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Having lunch in the beautiful valley</div>
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Another pass, another herd of llamas</div>
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Mark getting some assistance from a young girl to buy sweets!</div>
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Impressive rock overhangs that you hope won´t collapse while you´re underneath!</div>
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There´s not much room for error when coming across vehicles this size</div>
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On the way to Huaraz</div>
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Meeting Marius</div>
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Love the taste of strawberry flavoured fanny!</div>
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Cordillera Blanca - the start of the loop road</div>
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Turned up at this bridge and for some reason all the timber was missing! We made it across though.</div>
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Stunning!</div>
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The river-road</div>
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Slowly disappearing glacier</div>
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That was a great but long ride!</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-46903759750268165852014-07-27T18:57:00.000-04:002014-07-27T18:57:30.707-04:00Cusco to Nasca and beyond<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Mark</i><br />
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After a relaxing afternoon at the hot springs in Santa Teresa giving our aching muscles some much needed attention we left for Cusco again for a quick stopover to get the usual washing and so forth done before making our way to Nasca which would take us a couple of days.<br />
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The road to Nasca is a great road for bikes, shame we had to share it with all the other trucks and buses. In the morning when we first found ourselves heading down into a deep valley we constantly had kamikaze truckers riding our arses less then 2 metres from our rear tyres breaking heavily just before corners and even swinging out beside us through corners before pulling back in behind us before they cleaned up some other poor soul coming the opposite direction. We kept at it until we came across road works which has become a very common occurrence now in Peru and we snuck all the way through to the front. Like always they never let bikes through so we had to sit in line as everybody around us got more and more agitated waiting for the road to open. This when we realised we should have just stayed at the back. When we were finally allowed to go it was every man for themselves and watch out bikers because if you get in the way you will be run down as one particular car driver came ever so close to Sanne and I. I was pissed off but not as much as Sanne who chased this one car down the road constantly honking her horn and trying to get his attention, in all of this frustration Sanne took her mind off the road and next thing I see her trying to take a sharp bend but she was never going to make it. I looked ahead and see a bus coming the opposite direction and all I could think of was the worst possible scenario, Sanne going straight under the front wheels of the bus. Luckily for her the bus driver was on his game and had slowed and pulled over as she went straight off the side of the road. Still shocked I spoke with her and tried to calm her down at the same time hugging and kissing her and was very happy I still had a girlfriend.<br />
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A few more kilometres down the road we took an early lunch break (Mary Jane popped by as well with a calming word or two) and talked about what we needed to do to survive the horrible drivers here and to also let all the other traffic pass us. This is where my bike started to want to play funny buggers and blew a fuse for no apparent reason then going on to not always wanting to start. Great, now I have a starter motor problem. Luckily the bike starts 95% of the time and the other times a light tap on the starter motor and Tortuga fires into life. Yes, I have now finally got a name for my bike, after so many years and kilometres on the clock I have decided to call my bike La Tortuga (the turtle)<br />
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The lunch break was the best plan of all as after we finished, the road was much quieter and we had an enjoyable ride from there on in stopping late in the afternoon at a great little spot by the river to camp. Thinking we would be OK there the night we set up camp, cooked dinner and retired to bed early thinking how great it was to have this place to ourselves, that was until about 9.30pm when a truck drove down to where we were and started digging up sand from beside the river and loading the truck. We both thought great and what are the chance of this happening. I stuck my head out of the tent and said hello but they were not interested one bit, just said <i>"Buenas noches, amigo"</i> and went back to digging, well at least it was not a grave they were digging for us, half an hour later they were done and gone thankfully.<br />
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The following day saw us climb up and down the mountains again reaching above 4000m which just seems to be the norm these days. The only difference was the landscape slowly changing to a drier and more arid landscape and by the end of the day I found what has to be one of the best wild camps we have ever had. We set up camp on a sand dune over looking the rolling mountains only 30kms from Nasca. It was quiet and nobody around, no late night visitors until Sanne got paranoid thinking she could hear someone or something walking around the tent, it wasn't until the next morning she worked out that it was just the tent making noises in the light breeze!<br />
We rode on down into Nasca and was surprised at the fertility of the soil as there were all sort of crops growing everywhere through the valley which changed the landscape enormously from its barren brown and grey colours to rich bright greens which casts a huge contrast to the backdrop of the mountains and the worlds largest sand dune, Cerru Blanco at 2078m.<br />
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After getting another flat tyre the day previously I stopped at the first bike store to pick up a new tube. Ever since I bought the damn second hand tyre in Chile and fitted in Argentina I have had nothing but problems and constant punctures, something that was wearing very thin with me. We booked straight into a very basic room in town, fixed my tyre and booked a flight to fly over the well known and famous Nasca Lines. We had read that there had been problems in the past with flights going down and also that if you have a problem with motion sickness then this would not be highly recommended so Sanne was sitting this one out. We also read that you should not take a flight that costs under $80 but our hostel was selling tickets for $70 and after looking up the company's history it looked like I should be safe, cannot say the same for my stomach.<br />
Early next morning we were off to the airport, for the first time I can remember I felt a little nervous before the flight but I had nothing to worry about really, it was all just a question of when are we actually going to take off, so after about an hour or more we were off to board our new plane. The plane I took was actually one of the largest in Nasca seating 12 passengers, yes huge I know but considering most planes are only 4 seaters this was much bigger.<br />
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We took off for our 30 min joy flight banking to the left and right so that passengers on both sides could get a good look at the lines. The first thing I noticed was the amount of lines, they are everywhere criss-crossing the land in numerous directions not really making any sense of it all, the next thing is trying to spot the actual formations which at times was not very easy, then getting a good photo was even more difficult. In no time at all we were headed back to the airport and well, I felt a little disappointed in it all. Basically you take off, go straight to the images in the dessert, fly by twice to get a really quick look and move onto the next and behind you the next aircraft is doing the same thing. Five to ten minutes more would make a big difference to the experience. The best thing about the flight was that all the noisy Mexicans that were on board had all gone very quiet after about ten minutes in and you could actually take it all in with a little more peace and quiet. One thing to report at least that there was luckily know one throwing chunks while on board.<br />
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After my flight we headed back to the hostel, packed our bikes and headed just up the road to what is meant to be a nice relaxing little oasis in the sand dunes which surrounds a lagoon, Huacachina. Well it was not the quiet haven we were expecting with V8 dune buggies hooning around the sand dunes killing any peace and quiet that we were after. With no decent camping options and the sand dunes way to soft for our heavily loaded bikes we opted for a hostal for the night.<br />
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From here we wanted to head back into the mountains and we had heard about a beautiful mountain range we wanted to ride through, of course our lazy arses were not going to hike through them. We stopped by one last town on the coast which was meant to be a nice little haven but we did not get this feeling at all and with the heavily overcast and hazy day we headed back inland for the mountains. We could not wait to get off the Pan American highway, it is so boring and monotonous and we do not understand why anyone would want to ride the entirety of this road. We have now been on it three times and each time we could not wait to get off of it. Enter more road works which ended up delaying us and we had to ride into the night to our next destination which ended up being in some small town where we set up camp in the grounds of a hotel.<br />
The next day was still hazy but in no time as we climbed up out of the town we finally were able to see the landscape again including a beautiful mint green coloured river running down through the valley. I was riding along enjoying it all until I started to feel a very slow and heavy feel in the front end, great just F@#King great! Yes you guessed it, another puncture. I completely lost my shit by the road side throwing my gloves and kicking anything that was in my way. By this stage it was no longer funny and I have all the experience I need now in fixing punctures. So after my huge dummy spit which I think Sanne thought was over the top and uncalled for, (well she doesn't ever get flats or has to fix them so I think it was completely called for) I finally got around to fixing it. Back in La Paz I bought a new tyre which was meant to be for Sanne's bike but with the on going problems with my crap-tastic tyre I took it and put it on my bike leaving the old tyre by the road side for some other unlucky fellow to think he has scored well with a good tyre, huh, never! While repairing the tyre three young guys from Lima stopped by to ask if we were OK and needed help and proceeded to hang out with us until we were done and back on the road. We spoke to them about the horrible drivers here and they just agreed, good. At least it is not just us who thinks it is bad. They also gave us some bad news that the road would be closed in an hours time for a car rally.<br />
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Well, the road closure was a blessing in disguise as we found a great place to sit by the road side and have lunch and wait for the rally to come through, three long hours later and they were through and we were back on the road. One problem, so was everybody else and it was wacky races time again. The real problem was that we were on a very small road where most of the time the road was only wide enough for one car so at every corner you are honking your horn like mad to let other drivers know you are coming. A few close calls later I had found another wild camp by the river and we sat and chilled by the river for the rest of the afternoon.<br />
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The next day we were headed for Huanuco, nothing of any real interest here but just a place to sleep the night and look for new tyres for Sanne's increasingly worn tyres on her bike. The ride to Huanuco was awesome. Riding through the valley that just kept closing in on us all the time until we were riding through what felt like natural caves ever climbing up the mountain until we hit over 4300m before descending again and onto a main road which was chaotic and heavily potholed. Late in the afternoon we finally arrived and straight into peak hour traffic grinding us to a halt. Well at least we found all the bike shops easily, shame the same cannot be said for finding tyres. We were the talk of town and had many locals stopping and chatting with us. We might go as far as saying we hate the Peruvian drivers but off the road they have to be some of the nicest people we have met on the trip. They always want to stop and talk to us and ask what we are doing and where we are going, always happy to answer any questions and help us where they can. One guy gave is directions to a hotel that he knew had parking and was cheap so we headed there after having problems in the city to find a hotel with parking.<br />
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We really didn't think much of Huanuco so we left the following day for a possible 2 day ride to Huaraz, trekking capital of Peru and known as one of the best places to hike outside of the Himalayas. Well we didn't make it far, we got about 50kms out of town where we were stopped once again by road works. This time it was going to be a long wait. We arrived at 10.30am and the road was to be closed until 5pm! All for a 2km stretch of road. Ridiculous! We spoke with the locals and the road workers but there was no way they were letting us through and there was no way we were going to wait until 5 and ride in the night again as we had no choice as there we no villages for quite a distance. We checked the map and with no other choice than to go back to town, that's what we did! At the hotel that night we figured out a plan of which way to go. Instead of the direct ride of 350km's we now had a detour of over 600km's to get to the same place - great!<br />
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Part of the Cordillera Vilcabamba just outside Cusco </div>
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Another beautiful camp spot, however some strange goings on in the night</div>
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While stopped waiting for me to repair my puncture we had some curious on lookers</div>
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Cerro Blanco, the worlds highest sand dune</div>
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30km's outside of Nasca we found another incredible spot to camp</div>
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Nasca city and one of many replicas of the Nasca lines</div>
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30km's south of Nasca we visited an open gravesite where many of the bodies, whats left of them are mumifed</div>
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What I would look like mumified!</div>
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One of many lines I saw on my flight, this one is the Colibri (Hummingbird)</div>
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Known as Manos (hands), not sure what the rest is meant to be</div>
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Mono (Monkey)</div>
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The noisy Mexicans, love the pose on the guy?</div>
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Enjoying a cold beer at sunset in Haucachina</div>
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These mad hatters were doing a marathon through the sand dunes while we enjoyed our beers</div>
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The eerie haze we woke up to after pulling up to camp in the night</div>
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My discarded tyre</div>
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Our view after having to pull up to wait for the rally to come through</div>
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Creative selfie</div>
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This landscape reminded me of riding through the Elqui Valley in Chile</div>
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This is how much the valley closed in on us as we climbed up towards the pass</div>
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Awesome rock formations</div>
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It got slightly chilly up over the pass</div>
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No shortage of these guys around, I don't know how they handle the cold!</div>
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I guess if I had a coat like this I would be pretty warm</div>
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This is part of the Cordillera Yauyos</div>
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Looking back down the valley towards Haunuco</div>
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The end of the road for us, a LONG wait for everybody else</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-46794634916489406782014-07-23T22:19:00.000-04:002014-07-23T22:27:53.384-04:00Machu Picchu<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Sanne</i><br />
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Of course we couldn't come to Peru and not visit the biggest draw card that Peru has to offer: Machu Picchu. It is visited by approximately 2,000 people every day so we knew to expect a very touristy place, but we hoped that that wouldn't take too much away from our experience.<br />
Because Machu Picchu is cut off from all roads, the only way to get there is by train. A very expensive train. The Peruvian government has instated a special 'tourist train' which takes tourists from Cusco to Aguas Calientes (aka Machu Picchu village) which costs over $100. Tourist have no choice but to take this train as they are prohibited from boarding the local train. However, people in the know (which includes us, obviously) can take the backway which involves taking a road from Cusco that loops to the north of Machu Picchu and finishes in the village of Santa Teresa. From there you have to walk 10 kms along train tracks to Machu Picchu. It takes a bit longer doing it this way, but it is a hell of a lot cheaper, and well, it's actually a really nice ride.<br />
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We set out from Cusco and passed by the village of Pisac which is meant to be some kind of 'alternative, new-age haven for foreigners'...sounds horrible doesn't it?! We had planned to stay here a night but the sight of the hordes of tourist vans and the try-hard hippies wandering around was just too much to bear, so we continued on the road towards Santa Teresa, thinking we would maybe find somewhere to camp along the way, but we didn't. So without having planned to we actually made it to Santa Teresa late in the afternoon after having crossed a pass over 4,000 metres and then dipped into an almost sub-tropical climate. Bolivia and Peru have both fascinated me with how often you go in and out of different climates simply by the change of altitude. Coming from Denmark which is as flat as a pancake, I love being in these mountainous countries - it's so much more exciting than just flat! Especially when the last section of the road was on another 'death' road with sheer drops off to the side, but so stunning. The whole ride was worth it just because of this road!<br />
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In Santa Teresa we checked into a hostel which was owned by a sweet elderly couple. The next morning we left our bikes behind parked in the foyer of the hostel and with the very few belongings that we could carry, we began our trek towards Machu Picchu. First part of it was actually in a taxi to the hydro-electric station where the very last bit of road ends. Another 'death' road. From here we walked 6 kms along the train tracks surrounded by beautiful lush forest to a little guest house right on the side of the train tracks half-way in between Santa Teresa and Aguas Calientes, that we had had recommended to us. It was a lovely and quiet little oasis set in green gardens. Very much an antithesis of Aguas Calientes, the Machu Picchu village 4 kms further on which is where the hordes of tourists get unloaded off the trains and if there ever was a place whose raison d'etre is tourism this is definitely it! After unloading our bags at our hostel we walked to Aguas Calientes to buy our Machu Picchu tickets - $50 per person.<br />
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The next morning we got up bright and early and started walking the 4 kms to Machu Picchu. Now, I know that might not sound like very far, but when the last 2 kms are on an ancient and extremely steep Inca stair case, I promise you it's a workout. We were shattered by the time we got to the top! Sensible/spoiled tourists take the tourist bus up but at a price of $10 each way for a 10 minute bus ride we chose the economical option. Besides, we're really tough you know? Because there were only a few other nutters walking up it was quite tranquil...which made for quite a shock when we made it to the top and were met with tourism inferno. We squeezed past the hordes of khaki-clad tourists at the entrance only to find ten times as many inside the gates, most walking around like chickens following their guide. Mark and I gave each other an exasperated look and then pushed our way through this snails pace parade. If we hadn't we would have still been there now, waiting for some fat American to move over. I might have 'accidentally' elbowed one of these specimens in their side while squeezing past but I assure you it was just an accident...<br />
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We hightailed it to the top of a hill to get a good overview of the place and here we sat contemplating this very special place. So now is as good a time as any for some background info about Machu Picchu:<br />
This 15th century Inca site takes its name from Quechua and means 'Old Mountain'. It was unknown to the outside world until 1911 when American historian Hiram Bingham came across it on a trek. Although situated only 80 kms from Cusco, the Inca capital, the Spanish conquistadors never found it and consequently did not plunder or destroy it, as they did many other sites. Over the centuries, the surrounding jungle grew over the site and few people knew of its existence. Because of this, it is a relatively intact archaeological site, although many of the buildings here have been reconstructed to give people a better idea of what the original structure looked like. It is thought to have been the home of the Inca emperor and is believed to have been a very sacred religious site for the Incas.<br />
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How Machu Picchu was constructed is one of the most interesting things. The Incas were masters of a technique in which blocks of stone are cut to fit together tightly without mortar. Many places here are so perfect that it is said that not even a blade of grass fits between the stones! How they moved and placed the enormous blocks of stones remains a mystery, although the general belief is that they used hundreds of men to push the stones. Makes me exhausted just thinking about it!<br />
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As touristy as it is, you can not deny the uniqueness of this place. It is truly one of a kind. The setting on a mountain ridge surrounded by towering lush mountain tops all around is awe-inspiring and very deservedly it has been named as one of the 7 Wonders of the World. It is one of those places which you can sit and stare at for a long time, just taking it all in, all while you're contemplating how the hell the Incas managed to build this phenomenal place using only man power. Incredible.<br />
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When we returned to Santa Teresa, we both felt like we were about 100 years old, that's how our muscles were aching. Those Inca steps were a killer! So no better place to be than a hot springs, one of which we found a couple of km's outside Santa Teresa. This place was way more tastefully designed than the other one we went to in between Puno and Cusco and also not at 4,000 metres which made it much more pleasant! It was pure bliss to float around in the crystal clear water which had a perfect temperature and on top of this we could camp there for free, which we did. It was a perfect way to finish off our little Machu Picchu trip, and although our sore leg muscles dissipated after a few days, the memories of Machu Picchu will stay with us forever.<br />
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On the way to Santa Teresa</div>
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The last 25 kms before Santa Teresa is a beautiful stretch of 'death' road</div>
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Walking on the train tracks from Santa Teresa to Machu Picchu</div>
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We had to step aside for the odd train once in a while</div>
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Splitting rocks with my hammer... The local workers invited me to try!</div>
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On the tough, tough walk up to Machu Picchu - check out those steps!</div>
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First view of Machu Pichu in the morning light</div>
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And here it is folks...Machu Picchu</div>
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Look carefully at this photo... notice the human face?</div>
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The 'Inca Bridge' which is an insane path along the rock side...! For obvious reasons closed to the public!</div>
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Looking down into the valley below</div>
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There are a few llamas hanging around too</div>
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Extraordinary craftsmanship</div>
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At the wonderful hot springs just outside Santa Teresa</div>
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The water was crystal clear and ooohhhh so warm and nice....!</div>
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They had these awesome showers too with hot water straight from the hot springs</div>
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Finishing off with this oddly named dish we saw advertised...</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-58219789329834984672014-07-14T13:42:00.003-04:002014-07-14T13:42:42.433-04:00Peru<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Mark</i><br />
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We left La Paz thi<span style="display: none; mso-hide: all;">______________________________________________________________________________________________________________</span>nking
it would be an easy ride to Puno in Peru. Well it was easy except for the
slight detour we took trying to find our way out of El Alto! What should have
been an easy exit from the city ended up being a right pain in the arse. I have
become much better and relaxed riding in large cities but when there is not a
single street sign and road signs for directions I tend to become a little
pissed off and sadly that’s how I ended up. Not the best ending to our awesome time in Bolivia. After riding around the city for a
while and with the help from some locals we were back on track.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The ride across to the border was not so bad, not a lot of traffic but had the same usual landscape that the Altiplano offers. We arrived at the border town of Desaguadero around lunch time and were happy to find the customs office empty which meant a nice quick and easy exit from Bolivia. Luckily also for us the Peru border was just the same. Just before we took off I got talking to a guy from Ecuador warning me about the corrupt police in Peru, just what we need. So with this in mind we hit the road and one of the first things we noticed was the large police presence on the roads but all the way to Puno we were not pulled over once. I think it may have just been friendly rivalry between neighbouring countries.<br />
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Arriving in Puno we were taken back not in a good way, we thought to ourselves that we should just keep going but we were here for one thing and that was to head to the floating islands otherwise known as The Uros. We had heard how touristy it was here so we decided to head to the islands independently. It was also a cheaper option and we thought doing it this way would give us a better insight to the islands. Boy were we wrong! As soon as we got off the boat we were greeted by some locals, or so we thought who gave us a low down on island life, how they make the islands and the up keep. We were then taken into one young lady's home and showed their basic and simple home being all of one room, smaller than most peoples bedrooms! Then the sale pitch of selling goods to fund their way of living which we accepted and jumped in and bought something. Next thing we know we are being whizzed off onto a small traditional boat to be shown around the islands but without the opportunity of getting off until we get to the "capital" which has a hostel, post office and restaurants. Sadly this is where we then have to spend the majority of our time until our boat departs back to Puno. We wandered round until it was time to leave feeling a little put off by the whole experience. Maybe if we took more time to look into things we could have had a better experience and have found a more traditional island that is not built solely around tourism. The most hilarious/weird part was when the women started singing the famous pop song "Vamos a la Playa"! All things aside it was still interesting to check it out.<br />
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After our lack lustre experience of the floating islands we were hoping for greater things in Cusco, but we had one more stop along the way. Aguas Calientes, was to be our first experience of thermal hot springs since being in South America. On the road from Puno, Sanne had the lucky experience of having rocks thrown at her as she passed by, not being the first time we had experienced this in Peru, Sanne was having none of it and turned around to abuse the young boy, the young kid looked like he had no idea what was going on, I sat back watching it all thinking of the time I did the same thing all the way back in Turkey! After a right good bollocking we took off for the Thermals. The location of these thermals also happens to be the place of the smallest volcano in the world, quite a novelty! We decided we would camp the night since it was so cheap, if only we had had some hindsight as to how cold it was going to be. At least the water was warm, in fact it was hot and so good to have a dip on a cold afternoon. At 4000m it was already cold when the afternoon sun was fading so we made the most of it. There was also a makeshift steam room that we tried out and was happy to be inside out of the cold wind. After a relaxing swim and steam bath we were hit with the reality of the coldness outside.<br />
I cooked dinner quickly and we jumped into the tent to warm up. As the time passed it got colder and colder until Sanne had had enough and went into the Hostel and took a big thick blanket to keep us warm. Luckily we had this, early in the morning it was bitterly cold inside the tent and we were both looking forward to the sun rising and to get back into the thermal pools. When we did get up the entire tent was white, including the bikes and grass from a large frost that night. We were both not keen to camp at 4000m again anytime soon.<br />
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After another dip we hit the road for Cusco and the closer we got the worse the traffic became. We both now have quite a hatred for Peruvian drivers and their utter lack of responsibility on the road and for their obvious dislike of motorcyclists!<br />
We found a great hostel to stay in Cusco, Hostel Estrellita, which had been recommended by many a motorbiker, and we went out and hit the streets. Straight away we noticed the huge amount of tourists here, well it is the gateway to Machu Pichu afterall. The historical centre of the city is quite nice with great architecture and a never ending supply of churches to visit. As you walk around the city you can still see the remains of many Inka ruins along with many buildings with footings from Inka times. There are so many ruins to visit but all at a cost. Either a very large entrance fee or you can buy a ten day ticket that allows you into many ruins. After so much sight seeing of late we just stuck to doing what we could for free, which consisted of a lot of walking. I never really had a good feeling for the city, way too touristy, but was happy to come and visit all the same. We did have other intentions by coming here and that was to try and find parts for the bikes, well we lucked out here. Nothing in Cusco or Lima! We now need to plan ahead to see what we can do. Next Stop, Machu Pichu! </div>
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Our first stop on the Uros islands</div>
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Even though there are some motorised boats out here, many people still get around by row boat</div>
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The home in the middle is the traditional style with the two others the more modern style </div>
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Our lovely host talking to us about the islands</div>
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This young lady took us into her very basic home</div>
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We also got a fairwell song as we sailed off</div>
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You can see here the depth of the reeds that keep the island floating</div>
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Drying reeds before adding a new layer on top of another island, this needs to be done every 2 weeks!</div>
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Tradition meets modern technology</div>
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View of the floating islands with the city of Puno in the background</div>
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A beautiful Peruvian day on Lago titicaca</div>
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Sanne made me do it!</div>
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Sanne sitting on top of the smallest volcano in the world, Aguas Calientes</div>
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And here's the crater...</div>
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Oh the joy of warming up in the thermal baths after a cold night in the tent</div>
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In Cusco</div>
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The workmanship of the Inkas is incredible</div>
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This is a 12 sided rock, doesn't look like much but when this work was done it was all by hand!</div>
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We were lucky to have another festival to check out in Cusco, with more colourful costumes similar to Bolivia</div>
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Shake them skirts</div>
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Roasted guinea pig anyone?</div>
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Plaza de Armas, Cusco</div>
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View over Cusco</div>
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Baby got back!</div>
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More Inka ruins in and around Cusco</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-85760581932471591372014-07-02T22:43:00.000-04:002014-07-07T10:50:09.300-04:00Lake Titicaca (Bolivia)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Sanne</i><br />
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We left Coroico on Saturday morning when it seemed like all
of La Paz was descending on the sleepy
little town for the weekend. We were headed for Lake Titicaca but to get there
we had to go back through La Paz. This didn’t worry us too much but on this particular
Saturday, the council of La Paz had decided to dig up the whole one side of the
main avenue in the city centre. This meant that all the traffic going in that
direction was being redirected into the narrow side streets. Long story short,
the half hour it should have taken us to get through the city turned into two
hours. But this is the only time we have had problems with the traffic in La
Paz. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We made it onto the autopista which took us up to El Alto
and onto the altiplano. El Alto is the fastest growing city in Bolivia and is a
massive sprawl of mostly half-finished buildings which spread into the almost
dessert-looking landscape that is the alti-plano. The highway to the lake was
really busy and the drivers were driving like lunatics, with one 4wd actually
swerving at us on purpose because we flicked our lights at him, just barely
missing us and forcing us out into the gravel. <o:p></o:p></div>
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After only about 40 kms or so outside La Paz, we saw the
lake. But we still had another 100 kms to go to get to Copacabana as the road
wound its way around the lake. To get to here we had to cross the water at one
point with a derelict-looking old barge. But we saw that trucks and buses went
on them so we figured it would be pretty safe. 20 mins later and 40 pesos poorer
we were on the other side and rode the last 30 kms to Copacabana. Copacabana is
a small town nestled in a little bay right on the lake. From here people go out
to Isla del Sol, one of the islands in the lake.</div>
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The day after the next we took a boat to the island and got off at the northern
end as we had heard that was the nicest. There are no vehicles on Isla del Sol
so we had to leave the motos on the mainland and pack our needed belongings
into whatever bags we had. This 70 sq km island at 3800m has several
traditional, indigenous communities (around 800 families) which are distributed throughout the island
from the northern settlement of Challapampa to Challa in the centre and
Yumani in the south. The Incas believed that the sun god was born here, hence the name. There are over 80 ruins on the island with most of them dating back to the Inca period circa 15th century AD. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Two words describe this island: beautiful and
tranquil. As you walk along the trails you can observe how these people go by
their daily routine of working in the fields and taking their donkeys out to
pasture. Isla del Sol must have the largest amount of donkeys I have ever seen!
That same day we walked to the northern tip to the Inca ruins of Chincana and
climbed the nearby Cerro Tikani from where we got a great view over the ruins
and the lake that seems more like an inland ocean than a lake, as it just seems
to go on and on forever. The lake that is shared between Bolivia and Peru (we
will visit the Peru side later) is the world’s largest high-altitude lake at 8400
sq km and at 3800m above sea level. The backdrop to this vast expanse of water
is the snowy peaks of the Cordillera Real. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We spent the first night in Challapampa which was a lovely,
quiet night, The following morning we started walking south; a dog joined us
and stuck with us for the whole day. We don’t do many hikes, mainly because our
hiking boots are Converse shoes so not really built for hiking. Neither do we
have the right luggage for hiking so we carried our stuff in an old rucksack
and a cloth shopping bag! But we managed. It was only about a 5 or 6 km walk but
the trail was up and down mountains all day and the high altitude and the harsh
sun made it quite exhausting. We made it to Yumani in the afternoon and settled
into a guesthouse that the dog chose for us and the next day we took a boat
back to Copacabana. Here I was hoping that there would be an email waiting for
me saying that my new passport had arrived in La Paz, but nothing. That was a
little frustrating as we didn’t really know what to do with ourselves until my
passport would arrive. We had kind of seen everything there was to see around
the area so we had to find a cheap place to hang around until then. We didn’t
want to go back to La Paz as the accommodation there is more expensive and we
could risk having to be there for a whole more week. We studied our map and
found that the semi-tropical town of Sorata was just a short ride north of
Copacabana so we headed there. Sorata is a picturesque colonial town, perched
on a hillside beneath the towering snow-capped peaks of Illampu and Ancohuma,
which are part of the Cordillera Real. Apparently this small town used to
compete with Coroico for weekend visitors but that’s not the case anymore and
the only visitors now tend to be hikers. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We found a nice, cheap hostel where we met fellow Aussie Tim
who is one of those few people who really ‘rough’ it! He had just come back
from 5 days in the mountains with only basic provisions and a donkey, and the
donkey ran away from him after 2 days! He does not have a tent but simply camps
under a tarp! I was very impressed as I doubt I could do something like that, I
would be way too cold! We also met ‘illegal’ couple Christophe and Michal,
illegal because when they crossed into Bolivia from Brazil in the middle of the
jungle, they never got stamped out of Brazil and into Bolivia. We strongly
advised them to get this sorted at the immigration office in La Paz before
leaving the country as it could possibly land them into big trouble. I hope
they have worked it out! There’s not a whole lot to do in Sorata but thanks to
these guys we spent a good couple of nights there cooking dinner for each other
both nights. On the Saturday, I checked my emails and was over the moon to see
an email from the Danish Embassy in La Paz, saying that my passport had finally
arrived after three weeks! So on the Sunday we rode to La Paz, checked into the
same hotel as last time, Residencial Sucre, and I picked up my new passport on
Monday morning.<br />
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Wednesday we were off and rode to the border with Peru at the town of Desaguadero. It was with sadness that we said goodbye to Bolivia. It has been one of our favourite countries so far on the entire trip, which was a bit of a surprise as we didn't expect much from Bolivia. That is probably due to the fact that it gets quite a bad rep from a lot of travellers. We were told to expect shitty food, unfriendly people, roadblocks and no fuel. Well, I don't know if we have just been insanely lucky or what, but we have experienced none of that. The food has been great (and we're vegetarian), the people super friendly and helpful, we have not encountered a single roadblock and we have not been denied fuel even once. The fuel situation seems to worry many motorbike travellers as supposedly some petrol stations refuse to sell fuel to foreigners. There is also a higher price of fuel for foreigners, which is approximately 2.5 times higher than what the locals pay, but again we paid the local price 50% of the time. We found it helpful that in the case we were asked to pay the foreigner price, to say: "sin factura" which means without receipt. When you say this, they are usually willing to sell the fuel to you at a price in between the local and foreigner price, and they then pocket the difference themselves. Hey, whatever works!<br />
In short, Bolivia is an amazing country which I genuinely hope to re-visit in the future.<br />
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On the barge over to Copacabana</div>
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Lake Titicaca with the Cordillera Real in the background</div>
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Copacabana</div>
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The cathedral</div>
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Vehicles get blessed outside the church on the weekends</div>
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An old LP cover we spotted in a local cafe...HOT!</div>
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On Isla del Sol, connecting with the locals</div>
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Walking the stony trails along the deep-blue water was very peaceful</div>
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Next to an old sacrificial table</div>
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The labyrinth-like ruins of Chinkana</div>
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A moment of reflection, sitting on a hill-top, overlooking Titicaca</div>
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Looking back over the village of Challapampa</div>
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Woman on her way home from the fields with her donkeys and llama</div>
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View from our room</div>
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Another woman with her animals</div>
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Our walking companion</div>
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There is a huge presence of donkeys on the island</div>
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Not a bad lunch spot</div>
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The Inca Stairs</div>
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The sun sets over Isla del Sol</div>
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The mountains around Sorata</div>
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The whole valley was covered in a cloud blanket - it was like a Bonnie Tyler music video</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-42799475088897923912014-06-29T21:41:00.004-04:002014-06-29T21:41:46.937-04:00Zip line (flying fox) In Yolosa, Bolivia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-83515380334330718362014-06-29T21:33:00.001-04:002014-06-29T22:17:39.736-04:00‘The Death Road’ (Camino de la Muerte) & Coroico<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>By Mark</i></div>
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We left La Paz bound for Coroico, a small village 100kms
north of La Paz, via what has become known as ‘The Most Dangerous Road in the
World’ or ‘The Death Road’. The road is now less dangerous as the road is only really
used for tourists doing mountain bike tours and the odd motorcycle. A new
highway was built about 9 years ago that now by basses this road. Before this
however this was the only way into the Yungas from La Paz.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The road was built back in the 1930’s by Paraguayan
prisoners caught in the war between Bolivia and Paraguay. The width of the road
ranges from 2.9m to 3.5m with sheer vertical drops ranging in height from 280m
to 800m. It is also the only road in Bolivia where you drive on the left hand
side and you have to giveway to traffic heading up the mountain. When the road
was open to all traffic before the new highway was built, there were numerous
accidents with as many as 200 – 300 people losing their lives each year. Hence
why it became known as The Death Road. But as I mentioned, the road now has
many guard barriers and is mainly open to descending traffic, however we did
just hear that a mountain bike guide was killed just the other day after a head
on Collision with a car coming up the mountain.<o:p></o:p></div>
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As we dropped down from La Cumbre at about 4700m we
descended into one big cloud filling the valley. It started with just a bit of
cloud but the further we descended we became completely engulfed in thick fog to
the point that we could not see more than 10m in front of us, it became very
cold and quite wet at that point. We made it to the turn off for The Death Road
where we ran into at least 3 mountain bike tour companies who were about to
descend into the abyss. We quickly took some photos and shot off ahead off them
as to not get caught up with them all the way down to the town of Yolosa at
1200m, which marks the end of the road.</div>
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As we made our way down the wet and muddy road a feeling of
disappointment rushed through me. I had known about this road for years and
know how perilous it is and how well known it is for the sheer vertical drops
lining the roadside... and all I could see was cloud. A complete whiteout
everywhere we looked but as we descended the eeriness of it all took over and I
took it for all that it was worth. Along the road we also came along a few
waterfalls that actually fall down onto the road, it is in this particular
location where many lives have been lost. The road is narrow and with water
falling constantly on the edge of the road and the weight of a vehicle passing
by on the edge it has been known to collapse and take many lives. All along the
road side are crosses and memorials to all the people who have lost their
lives. A somber reminder to all that travel this road. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As we slowly descended out of the cloud we were greeted with
extensive views of the beautiful lush green valleys of the Yungas. We hoped
that we had left the cyclists behind but each time we stopped to take photos
they would catch up to us. Well at least we had the engine between our legs to
pass them over and over, however it made it harder to get good footage to make
another short film. The further down the mountain the temperature started to
rise and we were looking forward to hanging out around here for a few days.
Towards the bottom of the hill the road became a lot less dangerous and the
vertical drops of the road side became smaller and smaller. The road became
dusty and we arrived safe and sound at the bottom in the village of Yolosa. To
be honest, I was never scared of this road. We have ridden many more dangerous
roads in Bolivia and other countries such as Nepal. I was however very happy to
have had the chance to ride it anyway. We watched the hordes of tourists load
their bikes back onto the roofs of the buses before we took off to our next
destination of Coroico. We had heard good things about this place but as we
arrived the town looked a little run
down and in need of some TLC. We rode around looking for a place to stay and
finally decided on a cheap little place just up from the plaza. What the town
lacks in good looks is completely made up for in surrounding beauty. The town
sits high overlooking numerous valleys with incredible views back up towards
The Death Road and also the new highway and numerous mountains lurking behind
in the distance.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We decided to stay a few days after all. It was my birthday
while we were here and with not many other large towns around, this would be the
best place to celebrate. Our days were spent lazing around town, taking in the
scenery and also sadly watching Australia be defeated by the Netherlands in the
world cup and in all places we watched the game in a Dutch run bar!<o:p></o:p></div>
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The day of my birthday was kicked off just right with
breakfast in bed, then we looked outside and found the entire town engulfed in
one big cloud, looked like I had been a bad boy with weather like this. Luckily
as the day warmed up, the clouds separated and we were off for some zip lining
(flying fox) fun across the valleys. We got a lift in one of the local mini
buses for the very rough 20 min drive back to Yolosa where we would take
another vehicle up to the start of the the Zip line. There are 3 lines in total
measuring a distance of 1555m, at heights up to 250m above the ground and of
speeds up to 85km p/h. I Can’t remember the last time I went on one of these
but it was definitely not this long, high or fast. The zip line passes over the
last bit of the death road before Yolosa and a large river that many locals are
trying to find their fortune in as it is meant to be rich in gold in this
region. It was great fun but the down side was that it was over way too
quickly. Would have loved to have had another go but with our ever diminishing
bank account we have to watch what we spend. Time to head back to town for a
few beers instead.<o:p></o:p></div>
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While waiting a very long time for a minivan to take us back
up the steep and bumby road back to Coroico we got chatting to a local coca
farmer. At first we were speaking Spanish to him and then all of a sudden the young
guy breaks out speaking to us in perfect English, not something you find
everyday in Bolivia especially in small villages. He openly talked about coca
production in the area and how much he earned per kilo, he also basically told
us that all the coca produced in the area would go on to be turned into
cocaine. As far as I am led to believe that for all the coca produced in
Bolivia 60% will be used for the manufacture of cocaine.<o:p></o:p></div>
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My birthday ended with more beer and pizza, but nothing too
rowdy as we had decided that if the weather was good we should go do The Death
Road again. The following day did not disappointing, the sun was shining and
there was not too much cloud about. We hit the road early to make sure we would
be in front of the mountain bikers. Halfway up the new highway however I
managed to get another puncture, again on the front tyre! Again Sanne was not
looking in her mirrors and left me behind again to change my tube by myself. Sometime
later she realised and came back looking for me fearing the worst, that I had
been in an accident, no just the usual flat tyre! In no time we were up and
running and sitting at the top of The Death Road, this time with not a tour bus
or mountain biker in sight, YES! Also the road and valley was clear of fog and
we were off again. The enormity of the depth of the valleys never really became
apparent until we were here second time round with clear skies! The riding was
easier as it was not so wet and also the filming was more possible as there
seemed to be nobody else on the road except for us. We did pass a few nutters
on mountain bikes who for some reason were riding UP the death road. That is
one tough slog!<o:p></o:p></div>
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We managed to get some really awesome pictures second time
round and found we made our way down much quicker also. As a motorcyclist in
Bolivia we are exempt from paying road tolls, except on The Death Road where there
is a 25bob ($4) charge to use the road which is only paid by tourists to keep the
upgrade of the road. With the barriers in place to save lives we found this to
be less dangerous than previous roads we have ridden but good fun all the same.
<o:p></o:p></div>
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With time still to kill awaiting the arrival of Sanne’s new
passport we left the valleys and jungle of the Yungas behind and made our way
for Lake Titicaca, the largest lake in South America.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Looking down the valley towards the Yungas from La Cumbre pass</div>
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The sign says it all</div>
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Our first time down we were engulfed in a thick cloud</div>
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Looking into the abyss, chicken dance style</div>
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If the thick fog didn't make it feel eerie enough, the many crosses definitely did</div>
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The point of the road where most deaths have occurred</div>
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Finally a view of the valley</div>
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The town of Coroico</div>
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Beautiful and lush and thankfully a little warmer for us</div>
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One happy birthday boy, one not so happy worker!</div>
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Flying fool</div>
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Another happy punter, and a still unhappy worker!</div>
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Locals attempting to strike it rich panning for gold in the river</div>
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Second time round on the death road and this time we had perfect weather</div>
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This time we could actually see what we were riding</div>
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There are still the odd few trucks that make it down the old road, but not a lot of space to pass these guys</div>
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Sanne being brave and taking in the scenery of the valley</div>
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That's me trying to be brave</div>
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There is a few waterfalls by the road and this is where most accidents happen</div>
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Not an easy place to be building a road in the steep mountain sides</div>
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An incredible view from Coroico. Overlooking the new highway in the centre and the death road running up the left valley</div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5222175665468971323.post-27248602224500046762014-06-26T14:08:00.002-04:002014-06-27T08:23:06.674-04:00La Paz<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>By Sanne</i><br />
<br />
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<span lang="EN-AU">We entered La Paz from the north via El
Cumbre at 4700m<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"> </b>and descended into
the steep valley that La Paz sits in at 3660m. It is a city of gothic
proportions and it is an impressive sight to see this giant sprawl with the
medieval-looking buildings sitting haphazardly on the steep slopes while to the
south snow-peaked mountain Illimani (6402m) watches over the city. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">It was a Sunday afternoon and the city was
surprisingly quiet. That combined with our new Polish aquaintances’ GPS meant
that we found our hotel super easy, but even without GPS it would have been pretty
easy. I have definitely ridden in far worse cities before. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">We checked in to Residencial Sucre which is
a nice and central hotel located on Plaza San Pedro right across from the San
Pedro prison which was made famous in the book <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Marching Powder</i>. The owner of the hotel, and older man, is super
nice and let us park the bikes right in the foyer. With our two bikes caked in
dust from our ride and the Polish guys’ bike caked in mud from their ride, I
was surprised he let us take them inside, but no problem at all. We met up with
the guys later to go out for dinner at a nearby Indian restaurant, Star of
India, which we had heard was really good, but it was overpriced and the food
was pretty ordinary. I have found that, especially here in Bolivia, whenever I
go to more expensive restaurants and restaurants caterering to gringos, the
food is usually really ordinary. However, when I go to<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>a local market or small local restaurant and
eat a $2 meal it is super tasty and I walk away from there satisfied. And
anyway, I much prefer to eat my food in the company of locals than with
gringos. Lunch (almuerzo) is the biggest meal here in Bolivia and even in the
smallest towns here, we have been able to get something without meat
(although<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>we have to help them along a
bit by suggesting what they can serve for us, if you simply ask for ‘algo sin
carne’ = ‘something without meat’ – you’re sure to get a No!)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">Monday morning the first thing on our
agenda was to go to the Danish Embassy to hand in my application for a new
passport. After 3 years of travel I have collected a huge amount of stamps from
various countries, non the least from crossing the Chile-Argentina border
numerous times, and am now completely out of blank pages. In the email
correspondence I had had with the embassy, they told me it would be an
approximately 10-12 day turn-around to get a new passport. Then when I was
there I was told that it can take up to 3-4 weeks! I told them that I only have
limited time left on my Bolivian visa and really would appreciate it if it
could be done faster. So they put ‘urgent’ on the application and sent it off.
The passport is being printed in Denmark hence the time, but I really hope I
won’t have to wait 4 weeks! Fingers crossed I won’t have to. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">That afternoon Mark and I went on a free
walking tour of the city which was really well worth it. The tour meets every
day at 11am and then at 2pm on Plaza San Pedro and is very popular with
travellers. We usually don’t do touristy stuff like tours and the like but we
thought ‘heck it’s free, why not?’ Well, it was so enjoyable. The two guides, a
young Bolivian gay guy and a young Kiwi girl who now lives in La Paz were so
entertaining and really funny as well. We cracked up several times of the guy’s
stories of how flirting works in Bolivia (apparently Bolivian men like a nice,
brown, juicy calf of a woman) and of how he fancies Prince Harry! They started
of telling us about the San Pedro prison, which is unique in the way that it is
run almost entirely by the prisoners themselves. Inside the walls, it is its
own community with even families living there including children. Each prisoner
has to actually pay for their room in the prison and the more money you’ve got,
well, the more comfortable digs you can buy; there are prisoners in there who
live in appartments with jacuzzis,; on the other end of the scale the have-nots
have to share a room with maybe 10-20 other prisoners with only a soddy
mattress on the hard floor to sleep on. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">You can also conduct business in there,
again if you have money you can rent additional space to open up a restaurant
(of which there are several inside the prison) or you can continue doing
whatever you were doing on the outside, there are shoemakers, hairdressers,
dentists and doctors in there – all prisoners themselves. About 80% of the
inmates are there for drug-related crimes, but hey, don’t let prison get in the
way of that! So cocaine production is thriving inside the walls. In fact rumour
has it that it is the purest cocaine in Bolivia. We were told that whenever a
batch is ready, it gets hurled out of the prison roof and right into the arms
of their contact on the outside who is waiting on the street. Definitely not
your average run-of-the-mill prison! The building which was once a monastery
was only built to house 500 people max. At the moment, 2500 souls live in
there. It is an incredibly cheap prison for the government to run as the only
expense is the wages of the guards on the outside. The inside guards are
prisoners and everything else, people have to pay for themselves. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">We were told
that the minimum sentence for drug possesion is 8 years, and in Bolivia you’re
not ‘innocent until proven guilty’ but the other way around. The judicial
system here is also not the fastest, so it might very well be a few years
before your case makes it to court, all the while you’re stuck in for example
San Pedro prison. Then when you finally get sentenced to say 8 years, the time
you have already done, does not get subtracted from that, so you have to do 8
years from that moment on, even though you have already been in prison for 3
years! Not fair? Well, that’s life in many aspects of Bolivian society. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">The nearby Rodrigues markets is a massive
market that stretches for 12 or so blocks where you can find everything from
apples and onions to lap tops and stolen goods. We managed to find a cheap
external harddrive there as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">someone </i>(not
mentioning any names <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Mark</i>) broke ours
in Sucre and hence all our gopro footage from South America is gone. We need a
new internal part of the harddrive replaced, a part they don’t have in Bolivia
but we’ve been told that it can be done in more developed countried like
Australia so here’s hoping! </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br />
Another more interesting market in La Paz is The Witches Markets. There you can
find herbal and folk remedies for curing everything from headaches to
impotence, powder to put a spell on people, oh and llama fetuses! The fetuses
are used as an offering to Pachamama (Mother Earth) for when people build a new
house. The fetus is burried underneath the foundations of the building. Now,
that’s the offering for a small house...if you’re constructing let’s say a multi-story
building, well, Pachamama wants something bigger than a small llama fetus,
something like...an actual person! Yes, tradition is to find a homeless person,
get him stupidly drunk on a drink that is spiked, kidnap him and bring him to
the building site after which you bury him under the foundations. Nice, huh? Although
no one will ever admit to doing this, everyone usually knows someone who knows
someone...</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">While we were in La Paz we took the new
cable car that just opened earlier this year to El Alto. El Alto is a city that
sits right above La Paz at 4100m and from there you get a great view over all
of La Paz. It is really cold and windy up there and not a particularly nice
area as it’s very poor (and a little dangerous apparently). They have a huge
market up here on Thursdays and Sundays and as it was a Thursday we wandered
around the market where you can buy all sorts of things like parts for cars like
diffs, brake calipers, carburettors right next to bananas and shoes. They love
markets in Bolivia.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">We were incredibly lucky to be in La Paz to
experience the annual festival of La Fiesta del Gran Poder. El Gran Poder is one of, if not THE
most important festival in Bolivia throughout the year. During this festival, which is a homage to Nuestro Señor del Gran Poder (Our Lord of Great Power) tens of thousands of people parade through the streets
dancing and playing music.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span>The sight of grown adults dressed in outrageous costumes, drinking and
dancing their way through the city could seem like an odd form of religious
devotion, but the participants (and spectators) don´t seem to see any contradiction in
combining the sincere expression of religious belief with a riotous
party – indeed the act of dancing nonstop for several hours at high
altitude in a heavy costume can be seen as an exhausting form of
devotional sacrifice! It was nothing less than spectacular to watch and a great experience.</div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">The Sunday before we left, we again
ventured up to El Alto, this time to watch the spectacle that is: Cholita
Wrestling. Yep, Bolivian ladies who wrestle! Oh my god, was it entertaining!
Incredibly amateurish but...entertaining. The ladies come into the ring wearing
their traditional big skirts and bowler hats and then proceed to “pretend” to
kick each others arses. There are male wrestlers as well, one was dressed as a
clown and another was acting totally queer and was kissing on all the other
male wrestlers, even the referee! How can I best explain this Bolivian
wrestling? Imagine American wrestling D-grade and you might get the picture.
The locals were getting really into it, heckling the fighters and hurling stuff
into the ring like oranges and rubbish. Afterwards we were able to jump into
the ring and pose for photos with the cholitas which was fun. Definitely a
worthwhile experience to be had while in La Paz, if for nothing else than for
the bizarre factor! </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">We enjoyed La Paz and felt safe there,
despite the fact that it is known as one of the most dangerous cities in South
America and we found the people here to be just as friendly as in the rest of
Bolivia. As I was still waiting for my new passport to arrive, we decided to leave
the city and tour around the Yungas and Lake Titicaca in the meantime, but we
would return to the big smoke after that.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">Women gathering on Plaza San Pedro, in front of the famous San Pedro prison </span></div>
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Llama foetuses...a bizarre sight</div>
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Just like christmas decorations! </div>
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Plaza San Francisco and San Francisco Cathedral </div>
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At Mercado Lanza, the main food market in La Paz, </div>
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at one of the many hole-in-the-wall almuerzo (lunch) restaurants </div>
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A shoe polisher at work - this is considered the lowest profession in Bolivia, hence why you see many of them wearing a mask to cover their faces, so no one will recognise them </div>
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Saw this fellow strung up on a lightpole in El Alto - it says: </div>
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´Thief who is caught will be lynched and burned alive´... Consider yourself warned!</div>
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Overlooking La Paz from El Alto - mountain Illimani in the background <br />
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Selfie time! </div>
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The cable car that takes you from La Paz to El Alto</div>
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Welcome to the extravaganza that is El Gran Poder! </div>
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The outfits were nothing less than spectacular! </div>
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Lots of smiles from Cholitas! </div>
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And lots of lady legs!</div>
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That´s a bit cheeky...</div>
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A very traditional Bolivian indigenous outfit </div>
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They say you shouldn´t judge someone until you´ve walked a mile in their shoes...</div>
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I doubt I would even make it a mile in these ones! </div>
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Really lovely photo...but Mark close your fly for christ sake! </div>
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And it´s clown versus clown at the Cholita Wrestling! </div>
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It was intense! </div>
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Wouldn´t want to mess with this Cholita </div>
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Fierce</div>
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Then there was a bit of arse-slapping! </div>
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And some arse-sniffing </div>
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Not even the referee was safe from the fury of the Cholitas</div>
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They´re small but strong </div>
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It´s a sandwich! </div>
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This dude posed like this for about 5 minutes... </div>
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Mark´s dream came true - being in a headlock of a Cholita!</div>
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My new pals and I </div>
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Mark and Sannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18424781241491201250noreply@blogger.com0