The wing and a prayer tour

The Frelisher team attack the USA, Mexico and Canada
February/March 2011

Sitting back in the light of an early morning in La Paz, Bolivia, praying that my wallet was still in 'missing' status within the confines of the Wild Rover hostel room and wondering what the hell my next move was going to be, I never quite imagined that it would lead to this.

Making my way back over the Pacific in early December I traced through a whole passage of events that had led me away and that had led me back home, all of them good decisions and all of them having lead to some interesting and wonderful experiences. Unfortunately my journey to South America had been gazumped at a critical junction. Bolivia had not quite squeezed the money out of me as much as it disappeared literally like a thief in the night, never to be heard of or seen again. As I've mentioned in earlier posts, the plan was to get into Peru at some point and then in the final stretch of the journey head into Brazil with Rio de Janiero being the final destination. At that time the idea was, or rather what I had intended to do, was catch my friend Jet in Rio for one last wild throw of the dice, experience what Rio had to offer and 'review' carnivale for whatever it was that it could possibly offer a gringo crew like us. That ofcourse did not eventuate.

Fast forward a few weeks and I'm back in Sydney, lazing around generally, not really wanting to go out and find work at the moment as theoretically I should still have been out on the South American continent macheting my way through the Amazon somewhere near Iquitos or wherever else it was that I intended to catch some tropical disease. My great mate Jet rolls up one afternoon and conjures up his own plan to make an attack on some of the lands that make up the continent of North America. 'Ok' I said, 'I'm listening, please continue!'. As Jet therefore goes onto explain, the fact that I came home early and he didn't make it to South America to catch up with me obviously left a burning hole in his calendar that could only really be treated by heading off to another destination that he was interested in conquering. Whilst his idea of taking on the USA, Mexico and Canada sounded moderately appealing, they weren't destinations that were residing high on my 'to do' list (please see Peru, Brazil, Cuba, Oman, Yemen, Turkey, Nepal & Mali for upcoming A year full of Saturdays adventures) but.....but....the fact that I'd be travelling with an awesome friend sold me on the deal quite easily. The fact that in his infinite kindness and generosity that he found it in himself to actually pay for me also, well that something that's unheard of. So to Mr Jet Frichot I say this, thank you pendejo, for all your Aquarian quirks you're still alright by me, no matter what anyone else says either to you or behind your back!! 'Oh yeeeeahhh'!

So the idea was born and the little seedling rattled around our heads for something like two months until somewhere at the start of February Jet said to me, 'You know, I've already booked my leave, are we actually going to book some tickets and sort our visas now? And hey, what about money?' All this coming a week before 'showtime'. A few G'nT's, a few tequila bombs mixed with God knows what and a little internet activity had us booked, locked in with visas, fully funded and had JJ a bet down promising to wear a tutu, comboy boots and a Stetson (if I could find one) at our next sojourn to a whiskey sour Wednesday at the Shady Pines Saloon.

...and so it came to pass. On Friday, February the 18th, 2011, the 'Frelisher'  touring party lifted off from Kingsford-Smith, hangovers in hand and with an insignificant 13hr flight across the Pacific to the City of Angels. What happens now is really anyone's guess!

Europe-Morocco-South America wrap up

It's a wrap - Europe/Morocco/South America

24 June 2010 - 02 December 2010

 

 

As has become standard for me when I've ended a trip I've taken to doing a last summary or a 'greatest hits' review whenever I managed to complete the final entry on the 'how, why, when and whatever else may have been alcohol related' blog series of my most recent escapades. Sticking with tradition and therefore adopting the same template that I've used in the past, see also;

[Morocco-Europe wrap - June/July 2008]

[Laos wrap - April 2009]

[Vietnam-Malaysia wrap - December/January 2009/10]
 

I bring you the close out of the Europe-Morocco-South America experience within my still continuing domain of Life in a year full of Saturdays, which unfortunately is also quickly coming to an end but still has a little life in it still.

Europe-Morocco-South America - 'The Final'

 

Favourite places:

 

1. San Sebastian (Spain) - this place contains everything that is good about Spain. Beautiful scenery, fantastic nightlife, great people and attitude, most restaurants per capita. It's unbeatable. Had a fantastic time here with Jay and Dina plus my favourite band rocked the Anoeta stadium for which I was fortunate enough to have been front row!

 

San Sebastian - Spain

San Sebastian - Spain

2. Madrid (Spain) - It runs a close second behind San Sebastian. Whilst there's a lot of competition between Barcelona and Madrid as to who 'owns the rights' to being the best city in Spain I think Madrid beats its Catalunyan cousin by a fair margin. Style, sophistication and a great sense of fun, Madrid is the place to be!

Just off Plaza Mayor - Madrid - Spain

3. Buenos Aires (Argentina) - It takes a little while to get the hang of BA, to figure out what it's about and how it operates but when you did it just suckers you in whole. It is a vibrancy and feel that is infectious. While some towns may have looks to die for this place has character, charm and more importantly, soul.

Buenos Aires - Argentina

San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina

4. Marrakech (Morocco) - I told my parents before they arrived here that they would hate it initially but that when they'd left they would end up loving it, and they did. This place is a cacophany of sounds, smells, sights and taste. It's in your face all of the time and it's brilliant!

Overlooking D'jemma el fna - Marrakech - Morocco

Marrakech - Morocco

5. Chefchaouen - This is a great little town in the Rif mountain that lies in the north of Morocco. On first viewing it feels like a town in the Greek islands has been transported to somewhere in the Alps and then you realise that you're surrounded by an all sorts mix of Arabs and Bedouin. It's chilled, relaxed and very unique.

Chefchaouen - Morocco

Chefchaouen - Morocco

Most Surprising:

This is a close call between Tallinn (Estonia) and Riga (Latvia). The old town in both cities are listed as UNESCO World Heritage sites and both are filled with bars, good vibes and all things surprising. For me I think that Tallinn might have to shade Riga, just by a whisker.

Tallinn - Estonia

Coolest place for a night out:

1. San Sebastian (Spain) - it just has everything you could possibly want in a relatively small area.

2. Buenos Aires (Argentina) - it's just cool, end story.

3. Paris (France) - The City of lights has it all, bars, restaurants, galleries, great Summer evenings...

Favourite Hotel:

Not that I stayed in too many on this excursion but the Riad Boussa in Marrakech easily won the day. It was sea of tranquility and calm in a town that is chaotic and hectic. I will never forget our first night of arrival and the panic stricken faces of my parents that all of a sudden disappeared when they passed through the doors of this place.

Riad Boussa - Marrakech - Morocco

Nightview - Riad Boussa - Marrakech - Morocco

Best place to get totally lost:

1. Amazon jungle (Bolivia) - this one is a 'no-brainer'. If you want to get totally lost then just walk into the jungle and see how well you'll do once you're off the marked trails!

2. Fes (Morocco) - About 9000 small streets and alleys in a space of 19 squares kilometres, keep walking, take a few turns and you're away to losing yourself in a spectacular town.

3. Marrakech (Morocco) - Not quite as difficult as Fes but it can pose problems for the navagationally challenged!

Amazon basin - Bolivia

Find your way out! Go on, do it! - Fes - Morocco

Best place to drink and get totally lost:

1. Riga (Latvia) - I had one 'special night' in Riga where I lost something like 4-5hrs one morning. I left the bar at close to 3am and walked into the hostel at between 7am & 8am. It was a 15 min walk back to the hostel, albeit a convoluted walk. Still, Riga is a great place to have a drink and if you want, a great place to get lost in!

This is my last known location on that fateful night - 4hrs later I made it back - Riga - Latvia

2. Santa Maria (Bolivia) - This place is 9kms from Parque Ambue Ari in the Amazonian basin. I didn't actually get it wrong here but there is potential to get things awfully wrong and you don't even have to try.

3. Barcelona (Spain) - Drinking and then attempting to walk through the Barri Gotic is a rewarding challenge, you can lose yourself in the maze of the Gothic area for hours and have a lot of fun!

Best drink:

1. The Tio Tio - Captain Hook's bar (Barcelona - Spain) - not sure what was in it but damn it was good.

2. The Boliviano - Locot's (Sucre - Bolivia) - it's a traditional mojito but with a Bolivian twist. Infused with cocoa leaves, have a few of these and you'll be swimmingly dialled for a while. A must have!

3. The Whiskey Sour - Yono's (Paris - France) - Nowhere near as good as the Shady Pines Saloon bar in Sydney but when you're operating on happy hour convenience and are just about to have the best meal of your life, well yeah, it works!

Best Meal:

1. Chez Robert & Louise - Marais - (Paris-France) - hands down the best meal that I have had in my life and now provides me with the answer of what I would order for my last meal on earth if I was at anytime required to do so. Blood sausage, pork pot belly and the greatest rib steaks that you can EVER imagine. A place only for a 'meatatarian' ofcourse!

The rib steak - freakin' LEGENDARY - Chez Robert & Louise - Paris - France

Old school - Chez Robert & Louise - Paris - France

2.  Dar Damana - (Fes - Morocco) - This was another return for me. The last time I was in Fes Khalid picked me off the street and I ended up having tea with him and then returning for dinner. This time I took the parents and JJ for a Moroccan feast. Khalid was again there and strangely remembered me! Typically Moroccan food in a great setting. You can't beat that!

3. San Telmo - Buenos Aires - Argentina - I'm not sure of the name of the place that Dina and I stumbled into but the beef was incredible!

Best video:

Well, I hardly took any video footage on this excursion but the Swedish dynamic duo, Frida & Jenny, put together a string of highlights that came out very well - *Spoiler Alert*, watch out for the incredibley handsome guy that starts appearing from around 3:28.

[Frida & Jenny's trip]

Favourite/best photos:

It's all very subjective when it comes to any sort of artistic endeavour. There's a few photos in many that I took that I really like. They may not be the best of the bunch but here they are.

1. Bono - Anoeta stadium - (San Sebastian - Spain)

My favourite shot of the trip for many reasons. It was such a great night and San Sebastian was a fantastic place and I was fortunate to have shared my time there with two cool people.

2.  Koutoubia mosque from Cosybar - (Marrakech - Morocco)

Marrakech is just so full of colours and I think this shot to Koutoubia mosque does it justice.

3. JJ in some random bar - (Paris - France)

I think this is a pretty cool portrait...and she doesn't think that she looks good in photo's!!?


4. Eiffel tower - (Paris - France)

It's iconic and to tell you the truth I have a preference for catching things in black and white these days.

5. Meteora (Greece)

Meteora is a remarkable place. I think there are probably better shots but for some reason I keep coming back to this one!



Best shot taken by someone that's not me!

JJ just took the camera off me, pointed and took the shot from the second level of the Eiffel tower. It turned out to be one hell of a shot!

Coolest moments:

1. U2 @ the Anoeta - San Sebastian (Spain)

[U2 in San Sebastian - link to previous post]

2. Being in Barcelona when Spain won the World Cup for the first time, what a great night!

[Spain win World Cup! - link to previous post]

3. Rage Against the Machine - Endesa Costanera - Buenos Aires (Argentina)

[This night in Buenos Aires - AWESOME - RATM 13 OCT 10]

Sketchiest moments:

1. Dicing with Yuma - Parque Ambue Ari (Bolivia) - having a puma rip into your leg and then thinking that you're throat may be next is probably the sketchiest moment I've ever had in my life!

2. Taking goods out of San Pedro prison (La Paz - Bolivia) - having fun with inmates and then have your mates walk out with some prison made goods was kind of odd, and a little sketchy.

3. Crossing up on the Death Road (La Paz to Coroico - Bolivia) - for one brief moment I thought that my breaking technique was going to have me imitating super man for a good 50mtrs.

Uncoolest moment:

The moment that I actually realised that I would be heading for him. Sitting in that hostel room in La Paz as it me was an awful experience.

Best comeback:

Vladimir waking up at 4:30am with a severe hangover after a big night out in Stockholm. Not only did he manage to recover but he managed to drive us all the way from Stockholm to just outside of Bratislava before finally having a rest, some 25+hrs of driving. It was insane and it was a hell of a comeback.

Most random ...but still cool event:

I had been telling Janelle about this shady character called Abdul that I had met in Fes two years earlier. He and his cousin had guided me around Fes before setting me up for a bit of a fall, or so I thought. I told JJ that I'd love to see this guy again but that it would be more than unlikely in a place the size of Fes, and I was right...however...as we were awaiting a bus in Chefchaouen, on our way to Tangier, Abdul appeared out of nowhere! It was completely random and to see a guy that you had met two years earlier in a completely different town was bizarre and strangely cool!

Total flights: 13

Bus rides:  13

Ferries: 3

Trains: 1

There we have it, Europe/Morocco/South America all wrapped. I look forward to delivering you more when the Frelisher tour (On a wing and a prayer) of the US-Mexico-Canada (2011) kicks off on February 18th, 2011! Catch you then!!

Buenos Aires - Quelle belle mort

Buenos Aires (Argentina)
30 NOV - 02 DEC

Some people say that life is what happens around you when you're busy thinking or perhaps it may lie in the existence of time where you as an individual spend thinking about things that you may say or may not say, things that you may or may not do. There's a song by Dave Matthews called the 'Space between' that seems to echo those sentiments, '..the space between the bullets in the firefight is where I'll be hiding waiting for you...the space the wicked lies is where we hope to hide safe from the pain'. I guess in the same manner it's been the personal goals or checkpoints that I made for myself in the last few years that gave me enough leeway to not really consider the life or the time that took place between those points. The last 5-6 months on the road thankfully gave me enough time to be able to reconsider that mentality.

Whilst the way that I had arrived back in Buenos Aires perhaps should have made for perhaps a disappointing or sad occassion, it's not the way that it turned out. Dina and I spent our last day once again enjoying our time and experiencing once again those places that made BA special to us. I know that both of us felt that in coming back to Buenos Aires we were in a way coming back home. It was comfortable, familiar and it had such a good feeling about it that you couldn't help but have a smile on your face as you were sitting on La Avenida Boedo consuming your third or fourth glass of malbec as the rays of the afternoon sun caught you in its warm embrace.

Late afternoon shower - Buenos Aires

Later that evening we headed down to San Telmo in search of some good 'ole Argentinian beef, not really a challenge. I had myself a brilliant morcilla and enough BBQ'd beef to satisfy my carniverous craving for weeks...and then just like that, it was all over...

Nearly six months after having headed out of Sydney on the back of a wicked whiskey sour Wednesday I was commencing my final day on this fantastic journey. In almost a homage to all things early morning related and the way that we had travelled around for the last two months, D inevitabley was running late for her connections to the airport. As she furiously packed, looking in dismay at all the items that remained outside her bag and in turn wondering as to how she would be able to fit them into her already bursting breaches, I strolled down to the local cafe and ordered up a couple of cappucino's "Dos cappucino's para llevar por farvor", "Si senor, uno momento". There's something cool about this place and I still haven't been able to put my finger on exactly what it is. Ofcourse there's the language,culture, spirit of the people, food and a way of doing things that's uniquely Argentinian but then again I've been to quite a few countries that have these unique qualities than in turn haven't affected me in the same manner. As best as I could figure it, the place has soul and as a 'gringo' I'm happy to have had the opportunity to have experienced that for a while.

Urban art attack - near Plaza Mayor - Buenos Aires

As 10am rolled around I did manage to assist in getting Dina to the airport express bus station via Retiro station. Typically she was cutting it fine and it was probably the last bus that she could have jumped onto whilst still making check-in for her flight to Auckland. As the bus rolled out of the station and we pulled faces at one another I reflected a little on the last couple of months. Travelling with D had been somewhat of a 'happy fluke'. We'd known each other for about fours years but hadn't seen one another for four years, we were acquaintances and nothing more. Before heading to Europe this time around I had it in my mind that I'd stop in on D in Berlin, have a few drinks and have a laugh, and that certainly happened, but when D decided to join me on my South American adventures it kind of came out of left field. It's then very much in the hands of the God's has to how you work out as travelling partners once you're committed. I've had instances where I've travelled with friends where being in each others company for a large portion of time has caused immense friction and has resulted in a request to draw swords at dawn, this experience however just worked. We got along really well, it was absolutely cruisy and I've got to say that I feel really fortunate to have shared my time in SA with someone as cool as D. I guess I just got lucky :)

It was a beautiful morning in Buenos Aires as D's bus rolled out towards the airport. My flight wasn't leaving until much later that evening (actually 1am the next morning) and hence I had BA to myself that day. I walked down from the bus station near Retiro via Plaza Mayor to San Telmo. I must have walked around San Telmo for hours. It was one of those days that just felt right, a fitting way to part company with such a great place. I didn't feel sad or ripped off by the, it actually felt good, I had a smile on my face and I knew inside myself that sometime in the near future I'd be back to finish off what I had left behind.

Making my way back to the hostel in Boedo I picked a couple of bottles of the local brew, Quilmes, and hoped that I'd be able to catch Jorge before he took off to whatever he did in the afternoon. Jorge was a Colombian guy that we'd met at the hostel a month earlier. We still hadn't quite figured out what he was doing, about as much we could figure was that he was a student that had spent time studying in the US and was now studying in Buenos Aires. Fortunately I caught him just as he was walking out the door and I said, 'Hey man, I was hoping to have a drink with you, can I convince you to hang around?'...his response was 'Sure man, I'll just go across the road and get another bottle'. So there we sat for the afternoon hours, drinking away, enjoying the sunshine and each others company. It was a great way to finish up my time.

Somewhere approaching 8pm I made my way back to Retiro train station and then jumped a bus for the airport. My time in Argentina was up and the adventure that I had commenced months before was now hours away from ending. It had been a hell of a ride and one hell of a rare opportunity that I'd been presented with, one that I was thankfully smart enough to have accepted. A few hours later as Aerolineas Argentinas flight 1182 disappeared into the night sky over Buenos Aires, banking to the left and heading west towards Australia, I wondered how long it would be until I made my way back to this beautiful place. Knowing me and my restless nature I could be fairly certain within myself that it wouldn't be too long and what's more I could be fairly certain that the next adventure was sure to be just around the corner.

It's always Quilmes time in Argentina!

D with our buddy Mafalda - San Telmo - Buenos Aires

 

La Paz to Buenos Aires - Shaken, not stirred

La Paz (Bolivia) to Buenos Aires (Argentina)
27 NOV - 29 NOV

"You are honest but have no scruples. Your instincts and intuitiion are more powerful than your intelligence, which is far above average. When you get afraid, you don't panic. Danger acts almost as a stimulus to you. You think more clearly and make better decisions when driven by the survival instinct"

What's written above is a description by G.M. Stuart of Belgrader Dusan-Dusko Popov (1912-1982), who was Ian Fleming's real life role model for his spy hero James Bond (Mr 007). So, what has this got to do with anything that I may have to offer? Well, I have kind of an amusing story to tell which isn't actually mine but is the 'real life' account of my travelling partner Dina Jezdic who found herself in an amusing predicament whilst attempting to make her exit from Bolivia. I'll write the account in same manner in which is was told to me at about 2am on the 30th of November when I arrived in Buenos Aires after bouncing across the dirt roads of South America for 60hrs. To get to the story however I need to provide just a little background as to my own path and the state I arrived in upon making my return to Buenos Aires.

Two days prior to leaving La Paz my intention had been to head north to Lake Titicaca and then onto Machu Picchu, that was until some kind opportunist lifted my wallet from the room in which I was staying. Several phones calls, a Western Union transfer and 48hrs removed from the incident, I was in the main bus terminal of La Paz with Dina and Nick both of whom were also looking for a way out of their own. Dina had actually planned to leave La Paz on this day and was heading to Santa Cruz in order to catch a flight to Buenos Aires, Nick on the other hand was taking the planned route that I had just given up. My intention was therefore to jump a bus ride south from La Paz and then catch Dina in Buenos Aires two days later. As fate would have it we were going to find ourselves arriving in BA on the same day and more than likely leaving for home on the same day also. So almost as quickly as I had entered the bus terminal I found myself a ride south within 15 mins that was heading out immediately. I said my goodbyes and I was gone.

Now from what I could figure out the planned duration of the ride was going to be between 48-50hrs. I know that it sounds evil but for some reason I have the capacity to both sleep excessively and read excessively on bus rides. I just zone out and really don't find them to be too much of a chore. This journey however was to be the exception. The ride surreptitiously unfurled into a painful, mind bending expedition of mental endurance that in its last hours had me rocking back and forth in my seat and pounding on the windows in the hope that my internal cauldron of molten frustration would somehow psychically spew over and transfer itself to the driver in order to aid him in getting his expedience on!

The backwoods of Bolivia - on the way to Vilazon

The first signs of what would become my future of anguish and frustration arrived when the bus from La Paz sidled into the border town of Vilazon an hour late. The 10am connection to Buenos Aires had already departed and the next ride out, I was confidently advised, was going to leave at 2pm. For some reason I trusted the assessment and hence in my gringo naivety found myself sitting in a small office until 5pm waiting for the '2pm' connection. When we did actually depart our first exploits was a short drive,  all of 500mtrs to the Bolivian/Argentine border, what I assumed to be a relatively simple formality as Dina and I had crossed into Bolivia at this very same point a month earlier in just a few mins. On this occassion, with half of the Bolivians on this bus for 'some reason' not carrying adequate ID, the crossing took 3hrs! It was PAINFUL! At sometime nearing 9pm we were herded back onto the bus and were allowed to proceed into Argentine territory. The ride however did not improve. With a sissy little toddler seated across the aisle that cried and screamed whenever someone sneezed, to the 40kph limit that the bus driver stuck to for hours upon hours, to the endless Argentine patrol checks, there was no fluidity of movement, it felt like an endless lesson in the art of patience. Both a lesson and a battle that I was certainly feeling myself beginning to lose. As the arrival time in Buenos Aires came and went without so much as a courtesy apology I knew that we were still  literally hours away from making our destination. As the afternoon sun dropped out of sight the night set in and the shitty kid across the aisle wailed incessantly, it felt like she had been put on this earth with the soul objective of breaking me. Somewhere close to 1:30am the bus rolled into a northern BA bus terminal, 12.5hrs later than I had expected to arrive. I immediately jumped a cab and made a b-line for the hostel in Boedo where D and I had commenced our adventure two months earlier. As I walked into the room I looked at D, threw down my bag and explained my soul destroying experience - the response that I received from her however just blew me out of the water. The story of which goes a little something like this....

This border crossing took 3hrs!!! Have a look - Argentina near side, Bolivia far side...and 3hrs for what!?

A few hours after I had left La Paz Dina had managed to find herself a connection to Santa Cruz upon where she would be catching a plane to Buenos Aires in two days time, at roughly the time that I should have been arriving in BA. The ride from La Paz to Santa Cruz is approximately 18hrs worth and for the first 14hrs had been relatively uneventful. At some point along the road however there had been a patrol stop/check and the bus was searched by armed police and sniffer dogs. As the police boarded one of the dogs stopped close to D and she gave him a little bit of a pat before moving on. I'm not sure if this was seen as suspicious or not, and not that it mattered in the end as further up the aisle an Australian traveller was now becoming the target of the dogs sensitive detection device. With a brief search of the Australian's belongings it seemed that something suspicious was found and he in turn alighted from the bus with a couple of spritely Bolivian police to keep him company. The way Dina explains it, once he was off the bus simply pulled away and the Australian was left on the lonely desolate roads of Bolivia with what seemed a certain amount of explaining to do. The directors of Banged Up Abroad will be making a visit soon I'm sure!

So really, what's in the bag Dina? What kind of spy gear do you have?

Now Santa Cruz is neither an aesthetically spectacular or stimulating city. Even though it's the most populous city in Bolivia the feeling that you generally get is that someone has painted over it with a large pallette of shadiness and sleaze. It sits on the edge of the Amazonian basin and seems to constantly be inundated with heavy, humid weather. As Dina passed her way through the bus terminal on arrival she headed out into the constant throng of people and traffic that occupy pride of place at the terminal entrance. Making her way to a line of taxi drivers she found to her dismay that time after time they were turning her down for a ride into the city. It was only the last driver on the rank that accepted her fare and obviously the accepting party had to be the one had a large dose of crazy emanating from his pores. As they sped out of the bus terminal D was thinking as to how strange it was that it was only this driver that had wanted to accept her fare, that was until the point in time that she also realised that this guy was now breaking land speed records through the streets of Santa Cruz and could quite easily have them killed with a false move on the road. Asking the driver to slow down on several occasions seemed to have no affect as the lunatic just kept on moving like a man posessed. The only point in time that he stopped was the point in time when he was forced to stop by the direct result of an accident that put his vehicle out of commission. The police of Santa Cruz were then called to the scene and Dina in turn was taken down to the local station in order to provide a statement, or so she thought.

In disguise, obviously!

Down at the police station however the questions that Dina found herself fielding were not those she expected to be answering as an innocent party that had just been involved in an accident. Three 'police officials' made there way into a holding room where D was seated and proceeded to question her as to where she was going and why 'she' had been wanting to get there in such a hurry. When she explained that the taxi driver had undertaken the 'dangerous driving' course off his own bat they dismissed the reasoning outright and prompted her again for a better explanation. They then moved to the 'coincidental' circumstances by which she had found herself on a bus with an Australian that had been caught out by a patrol for carrying drugs (aha, so that's what happened to the guy - surprise). She explained that she didn't know the person and that it was just purely a coincidental. It was a coincidence that the police were certain would point to much bigger things. This line of questioning continued until they asked her as to whether she had been travelling alone, which ofcourse she hadn't, and how again it seemed very convenient that her travelling partner (aka me) had taken a totally different route to Buenos Aires. This wasn't suspicious at all they said.

As the questioning continued the police decided to sift through her belongings and came across two passports. One being her predominant New Zealand passport and the other being her unused Serbian passport. Ofcourse this drew even more attention and raised eyebrows from the Miami Vice boys of Santa Cruz who felt certain that they'd just trapped someone of note in their poorly maintained fishing nets.The legitimacy of having dual citizenship  just didn't strike a chord with the CSI troupe who pushed the questioning behind her need for two passports until such time that they decided to press Dina on why she was actually in South America and what she had been doing prior to turning up in their country. Dina explained that she had been a Phd student studying in both Prague and then Berlin before deciding to make her way back to New Zealand after falling  for a Kiwi guy that she had met in Berlin several months earlier. Not unexpectedly the police said that her 'cover story' of being a student that travelled in Europe and to the US for conferences to be extremely convenient and somewhat of a 'far-fetched' story that was neatly packaged for her benefit.

Conducting covert operations in Colonia with her 'contact'

During the time that D's belongings were being investigated her phone was also seized. In another string of coincidences the police found that there had been only two people contacted on the SIM card she was using, a 'contact' from New Zealand and a dealer in Santa Cruz that had been picked up by the police in the last 3-4 days. The dealer in Santa Cruz had in fact been the 'guy on the street' that Dina, Nick and Jade had found 10 days earlier to supply our Parque group with some party time goods. The New Zealand 'contact' was in fact her boyfriend who was only able to call/text on a Bolivian acquired SIM. As she explained the situation to the police and advised that she had no idea of who the dealer was (and I'm sure that at point in time she didn't) they pressed her on the 'cryptic' text messages that had been sent to her so-called boyfriend and put forward the hypothesis that the intimate nature of these texts were actually a code that she had organised with her 'contact'. If things were looking bad at the start of this inquisition know they were edging over the bounds of reasonable doubt, well, the South American version in any case.

Expert navigational skills - the hallmark of a great spy!

It was at the point in time that the police stipulated that they would be conducting a strip-search.  Dina obviously flipped out at the thought of a six foot stupid Bolivian hick 'conducting' a search and called for an abogado (lawyer) to come in, which thankfully she was able to find. At this point it seems that they all went through the details of the story once again before the Bolivian police came out and put to her point blank what their 'skillful' detective work had managed to uncover in the last few hours. It appeared to them that all the coincidences boiled down to one of two certainties, that she was either a DEA agent or a spy! As Dina looked incredulously at all parties they put the hypothesis to her again and waited for her to make an admission, which ofcourse was not forthcoming. At this point the lawyer asked the 'investigators' as to whether she was actually being charged with anything, which ofcourse they were unable to do with just purely coincidental circumstances. The lawyer then put it to them that if that was the case then she was free to leave. As D left the premises the main 'investigator' made a comment to her in a manner that shecould only characterise as equivalent to being something out of a C-grade Hollywood movie, something akin to 'I'm sure we'll be meeting again very soon!'.

Irreverent or DEA agent? You be the judge!

That evening Dina spent a very sleep deprived night in a very dodgy Santa Cruz hostel, hoping and praying that her progress through customer and her flight out of the city in the early afternoon the next day would be uneventful. Thankfully, to a certain extent it was, although she was actually strip searched after clearing customs by a female officer, a hassle which apparently she didn't have too many any issues with but something I kind of flipped out over when she told me.

As she concluded her story we kind of sat in silence for a few moments. I shook my head and said something close to  'Well makes my bus ride sound like a kiddies party doesn't it? It's a hell of a story though, you'll be laughing about this in a few months time'. Dina kind of shook her head in the manner that one does when they've just been put through this kind of surreal situation.  We sat back for a while and continued to chat about what had happened  for sometime and as we did my own mind raised that little bit of doubt as to whether the Bolivian police hypothesis was actually correct. Dina couldn't be a spy, could she? Then again, I'm sure that many people dismissed Dusan-Dusko Popov as a spy also, to their own peril - those bloody Belgradese, with them you just never know now do you??!!!

La Paz - You're worth what you've got

La Paz (Bolivia)
20 NOV - 27 NOV

That line can be taken to mean quite a few things and hence if I attempt a Copperfield and use poetic license to convey some artistic slight of hand then it might just fit in with how my days in La Paz came to an abrupt end. It goes a little something like this...

La Paz had become the solvent upon which the bonds of the 'Parque Ambue Ari travelling crew' were quickly dissolving. After having survived the Road of Death the day before I had initially convinced myself that the following day would be the ideal time to head out of La Paz solo and make my way to the salt flats of the Salar de Uyuni. A 3500mtr drop in elevation, a 64km ride (albeit all downhill as Nick kindly noted) and a fairly active day out put paid to that idea. Simple fact of the matter was that I was getting irritated with the indecisive nature of everyone involved and hitting the road solo was really going to be the only suitable remedy me. Mentally therefore what I decided to do was that I would stay in La Paz for an additional 5-7 days and undertake the Spanish course that I had initially wanted to complete in Sucre. Post curso de español the plan was to head a short way out of La Paz to Lake Titicaca and then make my way to Cusco in order to get to what I imagined was going to be one of 'the' highlights of the trip, Machu Picchu.

It was at this point in time that I started to get particularly excited about heading north and making my way into Peru. I still hadn't made my mind up however as to whether I would continue on the northerly vector after Cusco and line myself up with Ecuador and Colombia or whether I would make it to the Amazonian port town of Iquitos in north-eastern Peru and rent myself a slow swaying hammock on an equally slow moving boat down river to the mouth of the Amazon in Belem. I had time however, it was still all in front of me.

Near the Witches Market - La Paz - Bolivia

An actual 'Zebra crossing' - La Paz had a few of these - obviously someone has a sense of humour

The days that I spent in La Paz were actually quite enjoyable and relaxing. During these particular days I found myself alone more often than not which I have to admit was something that I had been craving. Dina had made her way north to Lake Titicaca with Frida and Jenny for a few days, Gado was busy preparing himself for another Amazonian jungle ambush and Nick & Jade were planning there own way into Peru, well that was in the space between the constant fire fights they were having. This time to myself actually allowed me to develop a bit of a routine in La Paz whereby each day I'd make my way to the bar for breakfast at the Wild Rover, dose myself up with the requisite amount of caffeine and then lock myself into Spanish study for a few hours whilst intermittently checking in on the news of the world via the BBC at the other end of the bar. I'm not sure why it's the case with me but for some reason I always feel better or more satisfied with my being when I'm studying or taking on classes, I guess 17 years at university will do that to a man, it's called classical institutionalism. Heading out from the Wild Rover each morning I'd make the 20 min stroll across town under the typically thin, transparent and refined blue Andean sky to calle Sagamama. Quite often I'd get lost in my own thoughts, enjoy the surroundings of a still very unfamiliar town or self monitor in relation to how my altitude adaptation was going. After 2hours of Spanish I'd drop down into the Cuban restaurant next door, have myself lunch with a classic Cuban mojito and then browse the small shops in the area near the witches market before heading back to the Wild Rover for an afternoon in the sun and a book in hand, Rusty Youngs' Marching Powder more often than not being the book of choice on most occasions.

Nightfever at the Wild Rover

Jenny 'trying' to be awesome like me but not quite making it!

With my days in La Paz winding down and the time quickly approaching for me to head off I decided that I would more than likely wait for Dina to get back into town from Lake Titicaca so that we could at least have a few drinks together with the rest of the crew before bidding one another farewell and godspeed on our respective journeys. Somewhere about the 25th of November Dina had made her way back to base quite late. Jade, Nick and myself had been out at a half decent Mexican restaurant that evening and Gado had 'I assume' been getting his gear together for his Amazonian escapade. By the time D had made her way into our room at the Wild Rover we were mostly on our own journey into a high altitude dreamland but never the less did still have the presence of mind to confirm that we would all be up for one last throw of the dice the next evening, and with that sleep came swiftly.

Swiftly to sleep with the aid of the local brew

For some reason this night of sleep was quite fitfull and progressed in an odd fashion. I distinctly recall that at one point a drunk couple managed to fumble their way into our room and then stumble out but on questioning the crew in the morning nobody could quite put their finger on how long they stayed. Later in the morning Gado was up at somewhere close to 4am getting his gear ready for departure. For most of the next hour all I recall is the light of the room being switched on and off a ridiculous number of times as Gado made his way too and from the common bathroom (or so I assume). It was like a really bad highschool disco and in turn it seemed to trigger a dream-initiated lucid dream, one in which I actually dreamt that I had gotten out of my bunk bed and turned the light off and then realised in turn within my dream that I had in fact been dreaming, I mean seriously, I know in myself that I'd actually be too lazy to do that.

Somewhere close to 8am I woke with the assistance of a few rays of Andean sun hitting my face. Taking in my surroundings I noticed that the rest of the crew were also starting to stir at about the same time. As I looked aimlessly around the room my eyes stopped at some errant shampoo and conditioner that had somehow made its way from being zipped up in my bag to taking pride of place on top of one of the locked up cupboards. After a moments thought I assumed that Dina had obviously had a follicle emergency the evening before after having endured the torment of Lake Titicaca and in turn raided our Ambue Ari stash of biodegradable hair care products. Not that in itself that was something to be alarmed about but I did remember that in my moderately tipsy entry into the room the evening before I had placed my wallet on the exact same pocket from where she had pulled out the items. For reasons that I couldn't quite pinpoint at the time that simple act had made me feel a little uneasy but as you do with trivial events such as these you completely disregard them and move on.

We all met up in our own time at the Wild Rover bar for breakfast at close to 8:30am, mostly just an excursion for the sake up dosing up on caffeine than actually acquiring any sustenance. As had come the custom in the previous few days I was lost in bit of Spanish study for the morning and didn't really take notice of what was going on around me. I recalled something about perhaps catching up later in the afternoon but that was going to be dependant upon 'so and so' getting back from 'who knows where'. You see, I really wasn't paying attention this morning.

After breakfast we headed back to our room, my intention was to grab a few items and be out of there relatively quickly in order to make the walk to the other side of town. I opened the pocket of the bag where I had left my wallet the night before and rummaged around for a few seconds without my hand touching anything that I thought was a wallet. With that failed attempt I went back in and rummaged for a little longer, this time with both hands. After coming up short on both occasions I stopped and mentally retraced my steps from the night before, reassuring myself in the process that I had in actual fact left it in this specific location. As I went back into the bag pocket for a third attempt I both diligently and specifically started removing the large items in the pocket that I assumed the wallet could be very well hiding behind. It was at this point that I kind of half mumbled out aloud, 'Hmmm, can't seem to find my wallet'. I think it was Jade that said 'Don't worry, I'm sure it'll surface soon enough', and at that point in the search I was 100% confident that it would. As I continued however and my search area broadened from the pocket of my bag, to the entirety of my bag, to the floorspace around my bag, a tiny strand of doubt entered my mind and the whisper started to become more audible with each passing minute. As I methodically took every single item out of my bag and then repacked them on three separate occasions, it started to dawn on me that something else may have actually happened in this room whilst we were out. Over the next hour Nick, Jade, Dina and myself covered most of the space in the room until at one point we all stopped and someone put the pointed and unfortunately blunt question to me, 'What are you going to do?'. It was at that precise moment that I realised that I'd just stepped over the boundary for the end-point of my journey and as my heart sank the only realistic option for me was outlined in the response I provided, 'Well, I think I'm going to have to go home'. I don't think it was the response that anyone was really expecting to hear from me. I guess the frustration, anger and helplessness of the situation just manifested itself in the idea that a homeward journey right at this point would be the best thing for me. Dina suggested that I just take a few days out to relax, get over the anger and disappointment of the situation and make a decision that was rational and not rash. I knew that as perfectly reasonable as that sounded in myself I was convinced that the end had hit me squarely in the face and that in all likelihood within 4-5 days I would be back home in Sydney. Machu Picchu and Rio de Janiero were now unfortunately going to be left being. Places that were to be more than just the highlights of my trip but also realisations of lifelong dreams now departed from the forefront of my mind with the onset of severe disappointment.

The hassle of cancelling cards and checking with your credit providers that nothing untoward has happened from the point in time that you realised that your cards were stolen to the point in time that you make the call is one of the most tedious, irritating and disappointing things that you need to do in a situation such as this. Not to say that I wasn't offered options either. My family told me that they were quite willing to front me with the money that I needed to continue my journey and both JJ and Jet stated that they would also quite happily come to my rescue and assist with the continuation of my South American fix (thanks guys, your generosity and selflessness was more than greatly appreciated and will always be remembered!!). Unfortunately that's just not me. I'm not the type of person that at all feels comfortable with borrowing large sums of money and in addition the hassle of having to make it to a Western Union to pick up $ intermittently was just not going to be conducive the where and how I wanted to travel for the rest of my time in South America. Last drinks on this journey had unfortunately been called before what I thought was closing time and that's something I needed to accept. Over the next few days that I spent in La Paz organising my way back to Buenos Aires and in turn a way home I came to terms with the situation and eventually became a little philosophical about what happened. I was just going to have to head for home and allow myself the time to dream it all up again one day.

Siga de suenos - follow your dreams...So I guess if as the title of the post suggests, that 'you're worth what you've got' then I have to say that right now I'm worth a bucket load of dreams that are just waiting for the right time for Dr Destiny to knock on door and provide me with the opportunity to follow them once more, and I will, I know that I can count on myself to do that. As Che was once quoted in saying within the context of his restless life of exporting revolution, 'Many of us wish to die the death that we wish and to live the life that we dreamed', well, I have plenty of dreams and I'm happy to wait for the right time for me to be able to live them out :)