Brazil: hammocks down the Amazon, indians along the river and artificial wings of the capital

kovo 25, 2013 • EN • pagal
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Miegas degalinėje. | Sleeping in a gas station.

Right after we got into Roraima, the first district close to Venezuela, we sighed. We finally got rid of all the ´be safe`, ´it´s dangerous` and all similar warnings. And even though closer to Rio de Janeiro ´Vaya con Dios` will become much more of a frequent blessing, but in the North we somewhat wanted vacations from all the warnings. And true, the first night we finally camped in the area which looked neglected but didn’t belong to anyone. Finally our tent fitted much better to the scenery of mountains in comparison with the gas station´s lights. So we are safe, aren’t we?

In the morning, when we already got on the road, the army vehicle stops us. `What are you doing here?´ ´We were camping on that hill` we showed. Well, I know it, he showed binoculars. And that unpleasant feeling that he might have seen everything even the part of a outside toilet matters. Why on earth people like to be part of reality shows? ´I know you have camped here, but it´s dangerous here´. Jeez, here comes again. We didn’t want to hear any of that anymore. ´The Indians might be pretty aggressive here, its their territory´. He just tries to scare us off. Well, apparently later we got to know that in the local areas its not advisable to stop, as the indigenous people can be pretty territorial, and there are cases that they were violent with obtrusive tourists. One driver, who was going through Waimiri Atroari area was very much in tension, and told he is not going to stop for couple hours at all as bad things might happened. We saw kids on the road dressed in a western style, but couldn’t tell much more about whether its truth or not. Well, they are local they know more, especially that indigenous here have their own laws and the police wouldn’t be able to help in the case of violence – you risk at your own risk.

From Boa Vista to Manaus

Naujas ilgiausio laukimo rekordas - 13h. | New longest wait recored - 13h.

To Boa Vista those couple hundreds kilometers we got pretty fast. But the thousand km to Manaus it felt like we are going to get stuck in some village for ages without getting any step forward. Its hot and dusty, and despite the fact that the drivers are all smiling and show ´duckling mouth`with their hands, we are not getting any further. The final option that we were happy with was going slowly from one little village to another. But that’s a great experience after all as we are getting a chance to feel the ambience of the local life – kids playing football as they would be professionals, someone taking to cook a turtle for their dinner. Our tent suits pretty well in the football field close to all the others simple houses. The next morning one smily kid brings a basket of fruits. We just couldn’t help but give him a hug – he was kind of hope in our slow progress. That day we got into Manaus.

Manaus – dormant city with its glorious past

Turėjome progos nemokamai stebėti klasikinį konsertą. | We had an opportunity to go to a symphonical consert here.

Manaus, the city in the middle of the jungle would sound like a very romantic place. Maybe it was with its glorious rubber tree business past, and you can witness it with some buildings which are ok copies resembling old town somewhere in Europe. But otherwise the down town streets are dirty and damp, the homeless people found their places close to the port.

We got a chance to visit Marcelo, our couchsurfing host, who works at INPA (research institute of Amazon). He has got a dream job with his office in the leafy park (a wonderful oasis in the middle of chaotic city). It is open to visitors too, and this is one really worth place to visit. Teatro Amazonas is pretty impressive too, and we were delighted to hear Mahler symphony in it. For free. Brazil can be really great offering all those cultural opportunities for free.
Marcelo also invited us to his friends party, and the Brazilian music that we heard that afternoon really made our spines go chilly. In a very positive way. Their voices – and they are not professionals at all – made us shiver. Then the songs at church later in the evening – how can you not fall in love with Brazilian music.
Upon our arrival we hear news – there is no more road down south, so we ought to take a boat from Manaus to Belem. To be honest, we were pretty happy with that. Something we cannot avoid, and to be quite pleasant too. So the next week we will be following the stream of Amazon, seems the most voluminous river in the entire world.

Down the Amazon

Piranija! | Piranha!

When you enter the ship – and Anne Katherine II proved to be a cozy one – the first floor was already filled with local people hanging in their hammocks. The second floor was slightly more spacious. So we bought the hammocks and hung them there – that´s going to be our seats, rooms, eating and meditating places for the following two days. Hammocks are like art here – some are plain and budget one, but some are with some knitting or some fancy patterns done, some of them are even family ones – so you can see a mother with a child or a couple swinging in them.

Those who are complaining about little action on this road are perhaps those are scared to meet themselves whilst their letting their thoughts flow down the river. Besides, there are always interesting life situations to be observed performed by the local – from those, who are simply meditative in their journey up to those who in the evening dress their smartest attire and sprays their perfume, and goes for some serious action which never seems to be exciting. But the life is there – just catch and observe it.

Daugybė valčių iš džiunglėse gyvenančių žmonių priplaukia ir prašo numesti jiems kokio maisto. | Lots of little boats come to ask for food from passing ferries.

And the river is impressive after all. And not only because you can see some pink dolphins making salto over the waters. The rainforest might be slightly far away – the river is really wide, but closer to Belem it looks much cozier – the banks of the river are very close. It’s a rainy season, so the ode to the rain should be told on its own. It comes with a huge force, and the dark horizon turns into a total gray matter covering everything. You feel you are going to disappear yourself.

There are some interesting happenings on the way too. From Santarem to Belem (which is another piece of Amazon oddissey) you can observe tons of small boats approaching the big ship waiting for something to be dropped. Some boats are with a motor, some with kids all smiling and waiving like Queen Elizabeth. And someone from the ship actually dropping some sort of plastic bags with something in it. SO some are luckier as the others, but the sharing system is unclear. It doesn’t matter its raining or not, the small boats waiting for something to get to them. It seems that the civilized world attracting them loads.

Evelina

Amazon´s problems cannot be talked enough about. The problem is not only for Brazil, but for the entire planet. We don’t think we will be able to look at soya products with the same look anymore. Deforestation is a massive problem here. The native forest people are moved and squeezed into the little houses outside the city with the promise they are going to watch tv all day long. But the issue much more grand than that – they don’t have their usual way of life. But how they agree to leave their homeland? They lived there for ages, but never had any documents. So the smarter ones – the greedy farmers – come threatening to expel them as they have legal documents and the native don’t. So there is only option and that is – to be moved out in peace.
You ask whether there is any evidence of the harm? If the drought in the rainforest is not a problem, then what? Not only plants are affected, and the climate, but the people with floating houses too, when they get stuck for long times without the opportunity to move forward.

Alter do Chau is a beach town close to Santarem it is indeed a perfect stop. The islands are of white sand, and the views are breathtaking too. SO why to rush to Belem so fast, if you can enjoy that pleasure a bit longer.

From Belem to Brasilia – gift kings

Vieną naktį miegame po tiltų, kitą.. | One night under the bridge, another..

We have experienced good people all around the world. Some countries seem to be more hospitable than others. Brazil goes on the top list. Particularly that part from Belem down to Brazilia. One young rich farmer Bruno offered us a good hotel so we can have a good rest as he said. We looked a bit like natives who haven’t seen the civilization and not knowing how to behave with a porter who was ready to help us with umbrella or with a trolly bringing our stuff to our room.
And then the superdriver Josiel, who not only gave us a lift for 1400 km but also made sure we will get a hitch to Brasilia too. He cooked us dinner on his truck stove. In fact being with him, we experienced the massive storm too, which tossed our just cooked steak on the floor. Sitting in the swinging truck cozily didn’t want to imagine us standing outside in that rain.

Brazilia – the artificial city

Planetariumas. | Planetarium.

The capital of Brazil is a piece of art. Or can we call it that way? One way or another it has been planned by one architect who had high ambitions. It was planned neatly and from above looks like an airplane. In front at the cockpit there is governing part – parliament and senate, president palace and all the ministries, the industry at the tail, and the residential areas at the wings. Thanks goodness that Brazil doesn´t have enemies, otherwise it would have been too easy target for any attacks. Otherwise, there are no skyscrapers, and all the architecture reminds a bit of socialist buildings. The church is super modern with its glass dome above, and some buildings like theatre, the museum or even the parliament with senate looks a bit futuristic knowing the fact that they were designed in seventies. The entire city seems to function in some sort of artificial way. But there is a feeling that you need a bit of chaos in all that. Otherwise its all too perfect. Thanks to couchsurf hosts Joao and Tiago in Brasilia, it all made sense here.

Rio de Janeiro

Team LT.

And Rio seems to be a perfect opposite to Brazilia. The endless homelessness, favelas and slight chaos all around makes you feel you are alive. Maybe a bit too much. The Christ Redeemer statue seems to be blessing this all containing city. The urban beaches are definitely not our travel destination but the mountainous sight with sugarloaf mountain and Corcovado mountain seem pretty spectacular giving an image of impressive city which used to be capital in the past.

But maybe it’s a good chaotic intro into what is awaiting of us in the next continent?

Venezuela – fuel for free, the dollar maze, gold mines and (un)safety in the country

kovo 17, 2013 • EN • pagal
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The fountains of fuel, potholes on the roads and antique automobiles

Hugo Čavesas - buvusi tėvynės širdis. | Hugo Chavez - the heart of the country.

Near the border stops an old ford-ship. Perhaps a forty year old vehicle we can call it old. Not patched, like hundreds of neighbouring cars. There is a feeling, that someone has brought all the antique cars from some USA old fashioned dump here. But the reality is opposite. There was a time when Venezuelans had good life. Everyone remembers it with nostalgia, when people were able to buy good cars and live a decent life. Those who worked, lived. Now, nobody can live, neither those who work nor who don’t. The corruption is the same as before, but now it cannot be covered. Bolivar (Venezuelan money) is worthless.

Pritrūkus benzino, teko jo medžioti iš motociklininkų. | When we ran out of the gas it was necessary to buy it form the motorcyclists around.

So the driver picks us up to his old school car. This time he wouldn’t dare to ask to cover his fuel costs as for instance somewhere in Uzbekistan. Well, mainly because the fuel here is a present from government to people. Ok, not entirely free, but the price is ridiculous. The fuel calculated here not in liters or gallons, but in tanks. So for a tank (let’s say 80litre) you will pay 8 bolivars, or 2dollars – if calculated officially. But in reality, it would cost you half a dollar. For a tank. Half a dollar. So no wonder why everyone even having a skeleton with some metal sheets covered, is able to drive.

You can only guess, what a temptation to share such a gift with a neighbour. Not for free of course. The roads in Colombia are covered with all sorts of tanks and bottles with fuel from Venezuela. It’s cheaper than the local. You would think that the government should stop the flow. In theory there are some measures taken. The roads, particularly closer to Colombian border, are densely populated with police, army checkpoints. You would think that the sieve should prevent the fuel flow to neighbours. Not at all, even the trucks manage to pass without being noticed. Of course. not for free.

So the government tries another way. In the petrol stations close to Colombian border only the locals (meaning from that district) can fill their tanks. Your car will be ‘chipped’ and that’s how you will be recognized and granted with the necessary (80 litres per day) fuel. Our driver was not from the region. So when he ran out of fuel, he had to stop and beg others for a litre to spare. Surely, not for that ridiculous price.

Benzinas čia beprotiškai pigus. Už tuos 58 litrus jis sumokės maždaug keturiasdešimt lietuviškų centų. | The gas is increadibly cheap here, even cheaper than in Turkmenistan. for those 58l of gas he will pay just half a dollar.

But if you give away your fuel cheaper than the salt, would you not calculate your resources, and fix those potholed roads. The same system in oil giant Turkmenistan, where the cars – old they or new – have to ride over those roads and sweat and curse. Who can explain the logic here? Not the locals. Well, we can go and pass it, but the locals have to live with that.

The safety in Venezuela

Police and army checkpoints will be follow us all the way till Brasil. That Colombia is not a safe place to travel we have heard lots. But we didn’t expect Venezuela to be apparently worse. The kidnapping is a usual everyday reality for diplomats, businesspeople, tourists. Caracas looses a hundred inhabitants each week.

Policijos ir armijos gausu - kas keliasdešimt kilometrų, o ties Kolumbijos siena ir tankiau. | On a two hundred kilometer road from the boarder there are round twenty police posts stoping cars and looking for illigal stuff.

Whilst going with one driver we looked at the mountains with amazement how beautiful they were, when the guy said that he was kidnapped for three days, tortured and his family was asked for a ransom. He got out alive, but his friend’s destiny wasn’t as bright. He lost his life not being able to get money on time.

A lot of drivers were complaining, that now none wants to work, and such robinhoods who try to equal the inequality are indeed lazy to work but want to get money as fast as they can. There is even a profession – a bargainer with kidnappers. ‘Thanks Hugo Chavez for that’ the driver talks. He is Portuguese, living here for long time and remembering with nostalgia good times.

Kai kurios mašinos atrodo subyrės vien nuo prisilietimo. Kuras pigus, todėl net ir neturtingesni gali važinėtis. | Some cars look like going to break at any moment, but as the gas is cheap even the poor can have a drive.

And only one driver with sympathy talked about Hugo as he helps poor too. He showed Petare, the biggest shantytown in Caracas. A real beehive with tons of coloured houses, but living so densely that privacy is not a question here. Exotic to see, but when you have to live in the conditions as such. But Chavez built them a metro. And he provides houses to some. And he is generous to those who are loyal to him. But why there are still lots commoners who adore him wearing red t-shirts and baseball caps, its not sure.

The corruption is high in every country, if you speak across the world. But here is obvious. Despite the fact the police and army are checking your luggage and cars for possible drugs or any illegal load, they are willing to accept the fee to let you through. Like one driver has filled six tanks to be ready for his journey to Brasil and sell it over there. ‘Do you know how much will I earn?’ he was open. He was giving them small gifts, and they were greeting and smiling at him like he would be his old good friend. Even for us, when a police wanted to check our bags, we willingly gave them, then all of a sudden they changed their mind. The driver explains – why bother. They see that your free offer to check your luggage means you have nothing illegal here, so no ‘fee’ will be necessary.

The dollar trap

Tranzuojant. | While hitchhiking.

When we just arrived to Venezuela, we almost got a shock. When we checked on the internet the official exchange rate bolivar to dollar, it meant 4 bolivars to one dollar. If we calculated prices accordingly, the milk would cost us 10 dollars, a bag of crisps 20$. How to live with a budget of 5$ per day? But then we realized, that its only if we calculate in official way. In reality, meaning, black market, the dollar costs 18 bolivars, and NOBODY (luckily, neither us) exchanges dollar officially. So all of a sudden the live became possible here too. But that is because the government tries to control the dollar rate, and it doesn’t work. There are no dollars left in the country officially, and the bolivar is close to nothing.

Venezuela is just a country of contrasts. Very rich in resources, but with no logical way to manage them, it’s a ridiculous economy example so far. People are miserably unhappy, still with the recent memories of bonanza, when the president was different, and things were far better. Apparently, Chavez likes to evict foreigner companies from the country too, so to invest here is a huge risk. In the past, when the strikes were apparent, instead of solving the problem, he dismissed the fuel refineries, so the specialist went to other countries. Country with lots of oil, was left without refineries. So huge debts despite the fact how resourceful this country is.

The travel through the country

Petare - neturtingųjų rajonas Karakase. | Petare - the poor people area in Caracas.

Maracaibo bridge seemed longer than the longest bridge we’ve been. You are going, and the other bank seems like a good distance away. It got dark, and as soon as we got out on the other side of the bridge, we asked an old lady whether we can pitch a tent in her garden just right on the bank of Maracaibo lake. Now, tired from the city chaos and unimaginable heat, we were sitting and looking at the caravan of the lights, and enjoying the peace.

But to hitch the next day was a challenge. It was hot, dusty and nobody was willing to stop. Maybe the carnival was responsible for full cars, or maybe – as one local said – the attitude of Venezuelans, who are not ready to help each other. Nor to foreigners.

Mus priėmusi venesueliečių šeima nepaliovė stebėtis mūsų kelione, kuri mums - tai jau gyvenimas. | One nice family accepted us for a nights stay.

And then hitching near Caracas was sort of a real nightmare in the eyes of others. ‘Its CARACAS’ police huge eyes and a surprise in the voices. It’s very dangerous here. Surely it is, but we have to pass it somehow. So thanks to good people, like Carlos and his family, we not only passed the scary bit, but also had a cozy night with their family talking about our travels. Carlos wife couldn’t believe we are on a journey like this. ‘Not a week I’d be able to do like this’ she sighed.

Ok, some countries are easier to hitch. We still have fond memories of Asia, Alaska, Canada or Central America, where you don’t have to think of whether you will hitch anyone, it’s only matter of minutes. But here, in South America we learned another thing. Good people exist everywhere, only here we have to wait for them a bit longer. But the patience is greatly rewarded.

The confession of a gay person

Edgar at first looked sceptically at our ‘kola’ (hitching idea). He thought we will contribute to the journey. But after hearing of our journey, he was excited. And started to pour his heart out about the hard homosexual life in Venezuela. He has a partner for twelve years, but unfortunately this partner has got a family as a cover for his different sexual needs. ‘I know at least eight of my friends who are in the position as this. They lead a bisexual life only to pretend that they are normal in the society’s perspective, but generally they cheat on their wives to be what they are. ‘In Europe it’s different I suppose’ we could hear the jealousy in his voice.
So after this conversation he perhaps felt much lighter at his sorrow and even bought us some bread with cane sugar – a local delicacy. That’s the hitching life. At first, you have to somehow convince on the road a driver to change his mind and instead of him going alone for a good number of hours, he would choose a company of strangers. Or even squeeze his family, to locate those foreigners. But then we have to calculate whether it’s pretty safe too. And then the discussion in the car often completely changes the attitude of the driver.

To Brazil with the vehicles carrying illegal loads of fuel

Kartais dušas būna - pratrūkęs vamzdis. | Sometimes the shower is a leaky water pipe.

Chuan, with a baseball cap and tracksuit, felt like a trusted person. At first, he only took for some kilometers, but after hearing our plans, he said he is going to Brazil tomorrow. So we could stay in his ranchito until we leave. Until then he had to load immense quantities of fuel – a way to earn those extra dollars.

The little farm was looked after an old local lady with his son. At first his son in all possible ways tried to cheer us up, despite the fact we were happy just stretch out in the hammock and enjoy the rest and peace. After all, he made us interested too. ‘There are lots of gold mines here. The gold is everywhere. But I’m not going to work in those mines, as the dengue virus is very dangerous. Besides, bad people kill each other here. But I can show you how does it look like’. He brought a tiny pebble with some gold dust and tiny pieces in it. The stones then normally are crushed, milled and the dust in reaction with aluminum separate, and the pure gold extracted. Incredible, how many lives were given away for pebbles like that.

Apsistojame pas Chuaną, kol jis suveš benziną į vieną vietą misijai į Braziliją. | We have stayed at Chuan, who was taking the cheap Venezuela's gas to sell it later to the black Brazilia's market.

Eldorado – the gold city, or maybe a little town, despite having a royal name, its suburbs with houses built from metal plates didn’t look royal at all.

So we are leaving Venezuela. That continuous warning that is unsafe here got us too, we frequently chose safer (meaning closer to army posts) places to sleep and to hitch. Well, locals do the same. So it seems we got into a belief, the same as everyone, that only army can prevent us from the evil. But the army was corrupted too. And if we didn’t look so shabby and not rich, who knows, if not the same army could have got in touch with those kidnappers. You see where we are going? We are getting paranoid, and truly unsure what is safe in this country. We are only happy to have met the nicest collection of people, and be hosted by those too.

Ūkį prižiūrėjusi moteriškė svetingai mus priėmė. | The lady that was looking after the farm took us welcoming.

Now we are enroute to Brazil. We sigh, as we think it will be safer. The huge country is awaiting, and no more Spanish spoken, meaning we will have to start learning Portuguese. Lost of questions, let’s see what is awaiting there.

Colombia – passing the roads of coca and the philosophy of (un)richies

kovo 6, 2013 • EN • pagal
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From Puerto Obaldia to Capurgana, the small port in Colombia we arrived pretty early. Not early enough to catch the last our boat in this intercontinental water maze odyssey.

Kėlimasis jūra į Kolumbijos miestą Turbo. | A boat to Columbia, Turbo.

Capurgana is a very touristy place, and it almost seems you need to stay there for a reason so the town would have business. It’s small and cozy, but most people are in transit so they would not allow themselves to stay there. But there are budget options for sure – we actually spent 2$ each for a hammock in El Descanso hospedaje – a bargain for a clean lovely place with a view to the sea.

In the morning already there was a good crowd of people impatiently waiting to get into one boat. The first and the last in the morning. There is a light noise among the people – the overweight will be charged. ‘What’s the maximum allowed?’ 10 kg. Ouch. its like half of our backpacks’ weight. Ryanair (cheap flight company in Europe) taught us how to reorganize yourself when the same situation occurs. You have to quickly hide some things in the pockets – so in the end you look like a princess with a wide hips, maybe put some extra clothes on yourself, and wear the heavy boots despite you are sweating like in hell. All in all, we are lucky to pay for us both 8$, I guess it’s pretty good knowing the fact that others with far smaller bags paid the overweight too.

The horror districts

Plytų sunkvežimyje kratantis dulkėtais keliais. | In the back of a brick truck.

Colombia has already been having nearly a half century melting boiling pot of drug lord feasts, left-wing FARC guerrilla fighting pro-Colombia poor people as they call it, then UAC – self defense armed groups, often funded by drug lords. Both are infamous for terrorism and drug trafficking acts. Then there are still caravans of coca products traveling through Central America to states, still top leading in cocaine consumption. So all this I guess gives the idea of being quite unsafe place to travel. As people say. But then Lithuanian travelers’ account even some years ago gave quite a different impression. But let’s try ourselves. People say that situation improved significantly since the last ten years, and that coincided with the president Alvar Uribe arrival, apparently heavily fighting against the drug mafia with the USA support.

Dulkėti dulkėti keliai. | Dusty dusty roads.

But the hitchhiking was far more difficult than let’s say Central America. It’s not true they do not know what is all about it. Iran doesn’t but still helps every foreigner with the free lifts. Colombians (the same as Venezuela) have even the word for it – kola. It’s a key word to explain your travel mode.

So the road besides the Caribbean coast is bumpy and awful at times, also proves to be quite neglected (hence catching a lift might be a challenge) but also according to the drivers, it’s a hot spot for all sorts of crimes. Our truck driver in the first hours of hitching doesn’t help to stop worrying either.

Naujas rekordas! 7 val. laukimo.. nieks nestojo.. o taip baisiai karšta.. | New record! 7h of waiting.. in a boiling sun :/

‘You see these farms on the left and on the right. You think they are in order, but that’s only on the outskirts. They are massive, like 10 000 acres, so far away in the mountains the owners grow money plants – coca. And the products transport easily along the Caribbean sea up and down the shore. Things happen here. My brother was killed, and the next time you are coming, I’m sure I won’t be here anymore. You see that bridge over the stream? There was a man with the cut intestines thrown over. And if there are 5 people killed in your country, the police obviously do something about it. But here – they don’t interfere much. And if you try to tell them what’s the situation like, you are likely to be eliminated soon. You see the house, I’ll let you off here. It used to belong to a gringo (white person referring to USA citizen). Nobody knows where did he disappear. But be careful, don’t stay in this village, it’s a dangerous place. Try to get away from here. If someone tries to take a picture or talks on the phone while looking at you, be careful. You might be in trouble. Good luck!’
Nice one. Good luck. With a shiver or two on the back we walk through the village. We stop to buy some buns, and carefully look around. Do people stare? But of course they stare! Like everywhere else! The foreigner in such a place – a truly rare occasion. We eat the buns while walking though until we get an offered ride by a moto driver until he drives us away and says ‘now it’s safe’. So I guess we will be continuously wondering about the safety stuff here in Colombia.

The sleep: hell and paradise

Kolumbijos maistas kiek priminė lietuvišką, mėsos, sriubos... | Food in Columbia remainded us of Lithuanian cuisine a bit.

In some other places when we a see a decent place we pitch a tent and lay our heads down. But here we constantly passing fenced haziendas. Maybe to climb over? Just that mad idea of an angry farmer (coca farmer, too) standing right beside you with a gun or so, doesn’t allow to relax. We asked few people around whether we could pitch in their gardens – no chance. They look either terrified.

But we are dog-tired and we desperately need to lay down. It’s dark, and we see a shelter with a heap of rotten banana skins. Let’s just pitch it here.
The heat is unsupportable, the last drops of fresh air disappear quickly in our tent, and the sweat washes our sleeping mats. And add some stomach issues on top, you will get a non-sleep night with a few chances to breath. Waking up (was any sleep there at all?) with a massive head. No, no need anyone now to talk to…

Papūga! | Parrot!

But of course, in the morning whilst sorting our things, the farmer comes to see who are those unwelcomed visitors on his land, doesn’t matter that close to the road. ‘Oh yeah, it’s fine fine. It’s my farm, but that’s no problem you have stayed here’. A deep sigh. ‘Maybe I could help’, so he brings the water. A guess then that he is one of the good ones. Or maybe the situation is not that so terrifying anymore. Or maybe stepping over yourself and being nice to the landlord might fix the situation despite that still big fat head after a sleepless night.

The fuel station for a sleep it’s not an option anymore. ‘Will you make a bonfire?’ the worker asks. Well, such an idea didn’t cross the mind, but obviously we didn’t sound very much convincing so our further sleep place hunting reaches the road building site. Another refusal – guards don’t think the fields are good option. But maybe somewhere there, in the park.

The park it is then. But the only possible couple squares meters to pitch a tent is exactly beside the massive electrified fence of a very rich guy we guess. That night every ‘turn on the other side’ move causes a good portion of dog barking. We should rather breath more shallow then too.

Chuako

The hitching progress is slow. The well neglected roads prove to be more successful than the busy multi-option highways. Maybe people feel obliged to help in the countryside, and the shared responsibility ‘oh the other will take them’ makes us wait for seven hours – our record break. Maybe to make it more attractive? Let’s pick a random town on our route, maybe people will be tempted to pick us up after recognizing their town. Bingo!

After seven hours, Quaco and his friend stopped us. The paradise begins. He invites us to stay in his finca and holiday house.

Quaco has got couple fincas (farms) and a lovely house at the front of Caribbean. But not this that impressed us most. It’s the philosophical approach he has about life. ‘Even if you didn’t have all the cows, the cars and the property, will you still be happy?’. The most important thing in my life, he says, my family and books. Take away everything else, I will still be happy. And just in the morning near the water pool we have been sitting wondering what exactly do you need to be happy. So far our backpacks with the necessities were ok to make us happy. Or maybe not them, but not having many things and lots of space to talk, think, meet people and enjoy life were actually the real happy factors.

But the rest at his summer house near the sea was a true paradise. We had a good rest, met his sister’s family and they took a full care of us and provided with tons of positive emotions.

The stroll through the old cities

Kartagena | Cartagena

We do not aim for cities. Tourist destinations are not on our travel list too. But sometimes we stop by and have a look particularly if the travelers we trust recommend the sight. Cartagena was told to be the most beautiful city in the South America. European style old town, that is what attracts everyone. The renovated blissful town is a nice stroll. You look at those walls and think that lots of things pass through it. And finally, not only silver and gold port it was, but the only official (together with Veracruz in Mexico) for slave trade too.

Šiuo metu visur vyksta karnavalai, tad visos siuvėjos ir parduotuvėlės pluša. | At this moment there are carnavals everywhere, so everyone is busy making the costumes and other atributes.

Santa Marta a much older town too, a gateway for conquistadors. The sugarwhite church is attractive, but that’s about it. The majority go straight to Tayrona park, part of Siera Nevada, which is so proud of the having the title of the highest mountains close to the sea.

But in Santa Marta accidentally we make another acquaintance. Pascal is a blind American, who has achieved in his live so much, that anyone who is complaining lack of confidence or opportunities I guess would be left at shame. He lost his sight when he was still 19 years old, but his career was only going up. He is a psychology professor, having worked at USA defense in Siberia too. His hobbies – skiing and water skiing almost feel like an impossible thing, but he says that feeling his body he doesn’t need the sight. In fact, many other having clear vision are not able to control their bodies very well. It was quite an inspiration for us.

We are en-route to Venezuela. And when we expected this ‘it’s dangerous, be careful’ to end, we in fact are only in the mid of it. Venezuela – a country well known for kidnapping – is awaiting.

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