Back Home in South America

I have never been so thankful to be here in South America. After two false starts that almost left me off my flights over here, I have sailed through Chile immigrations and customs checks without even stopping. What a difference to the letter-of-the-law hurdles I needed to jump over just to get here.

Waiting for a toilet to be fixed
Waiting in Brisbane for a toilet to be fixed.

Leaving Australia
First event was in Australia as I tried to leave Brisbane. With my return ticket to Chile I was almost stopped from boarding the plane because there was no proof of an onward journey. Fortunately I was able to argue that since my ticket left me in New Zealand for a couple of days first, that they could let me on for this part of the flight. They agreed and issued me a boarding pass, but it left me concerned about how I would get on with my next flight.

To allay these concerns I quickly visited the LAN Chile airline office and asked their opinion about my predicament. Basically they said that it was illegal to board a passenger who did not have proof of passage out of the country and the airline would be heavily fined if they let me aboard. The important piece of information that they gave me was that their responsibility lay only for that particular leg of the flight, and if I fulfilled this requirement then their legal requirements were satisfied.

Waiting for buses to come and take us to the terminal building.
Waiting for buses to take us to the terminal building in Auckland.

This meant I needed some sort of ticket, but to where. Buying a return ticket would leave me with the same problem as right now. A one-way ticket would also cause lots of problems too. So I first tried to find a more expensive ticket that I could cancel for free, but after looking around there was no such thing as a free lunch. In the end, the cheapest ticket to Buenos Aires one-way served as my sacrificial scape-goat. Instead of seeing it as a lost ticket, I try to look at it as the cost of my visa to enter the country.

Leaving New Zealand
So with ticket in hand, I turn up at the check-in counter in New Zealand and try to board the plane. Again I am met with the same problem. Even with my ticket they tell me that I cannot board the plane because Argentina has the same requirements. Everything looked dim at the moment, until I remembered what they had told me at the LAN Chile office. On presenting my case, that all I wanted to do was board this particular flight and deal with further problems when I get to them, and stating that their only legal requirement was seeing that I had this onward ticket, they finally agreed to let me on board.

Sunset as we takeoff in Auckland.
Watching the sunset as we take-off in Auckland, NZ.

Then came the baggage problem. Qantas shows in all of their documentation that flights to and from South America allow two checked bags of 32kgs each. So like a good traveller, I filled my two allowed bags with 31.8kgs and 31.6kgs and boarded the plane. This worked fine in getting to New Zealand, but now it was a problem. Apparently only flights continuing through Santiago to another destination are allowed 32kgs. My flight, that terminated in Santiago itself, had a baggage restriction of 23kgs per piece.

Once again there was another discussion explaining the differences between the Qantas policy and the LAN Chile policy which ended up including one of the supervisors. After seeing my dilemma this kind man waved the penalty fees for overweight baggage and allowed them through. Getting that boarding pass in my hand had never felt better.

Almost back in South America
Aboard and traveling home to South America.

Just as I was about to leave the counter girl asked to weigh my hand luggage. Gulp. That too was overweight, coming in at 9.3kgs for a 7kg limit. I started to sweat and ran through my mind all of the things that were in it and which things I may be able to get rid of. She then asked me, “Do you think you can reshuffle some of the things in there to reduce that weight to 7kgs?” I just smiled and said, “sure!” And I walked away.

Getting to Chile
With all of the difficulties in getting onto each plane, something inside me started to believe that the same thing would happen when I got to Chile. I started to imagine being pulled aside into a room to account for why I have two laptops, four telephones, dozens of books many of which I have several of the same title, and lots of other electronic gadgets and gizmos. It also seemed highly probable, after my Aus/NZ treatment that perhaps they would stop me from entering the country.

Back in Chile again.
Tasting freedom – back in Chile again.

After landing in Santiago airport, I wandered through the glass-walled corridors looking out at a land that I was starting to consider that I may never be able to enter. How wrong I was. The immigrations never even asked me for an onward ticket. They circled and stamped my paper as though I was a local and let me pass. Simple.

Customs was the same. Straight through after sending my bags through the x-ray machine. Never have I retrieved my bags so fast as I did today, but there were no problems, no questions, no issues, no fuss. I was back in South America again. My home. The land that treats people as people and not as numbers, that looks at the spirit of the law and not the letter, the land that I have grown to love.

Sunset in Santiago, Chile.
Enjoying the sunset over Santiago city, Chile.

Loving South America
People have asked me various times about what it is that I really like about South America, what it is that draws me back. I like that people here are allowed to use their common sense, to take risks, to be who they are. The governments here have not yet wrapped people up in cotton wool so tight that they cannot move in the guise of trying to protect them. Life here has a lot less rules, and I guess that is one of the reasons why I like it so much.

The Journey Home

Chilean flags
Saying farewell to Chile as I head toward Argentina.

Snowy border crossing
Heavy snowfalls covered the mountains between countries.

Argentine Immigrations
Passing through the Argentine border was painless.

Reaching Bariloche
Reaching Bariloche city, the last stop before home.

The bus home
The last bus heading back to Puerto Madryn. Only 11 more hours to go.

Puerto Madryn to Santiago in Chile

After an early start to the day, a cold snap caused snow on the road to delay my bus for an hour and a half. Wandering down to the beach to watch the whales play in the water seemed the best way to pass the time at this hour of the morning. A further delay in Cippoletti made it likely that we would arrive very late at our destination, but some fast driving through the night delivered us only one hour behind schedule.

In Mendoza, after purchasing my ticket for Chile, I heard of some other YWAM staff heading to the same place as me. So rather than try and find my way alone, a second ticket put us all on the same bus. Sandra and Marcela were heading to a seminar held by YWAM Chile for the weekend and had brought Lorena with them, a friend from church. It was not long before we were all well acquainted and chatting and laughing our way over the Andes mountains.

Our journey was not quite as simple as that however, as it had started to snow in Mendoza and the bus companies were beginning to cancel their scheduled journeys. Our company decided to continue onward, and after a break-down stranding us along the side of the highway for an hour, we climbed into the majestic mountains to be welcomed by bright sunshine and clear skies. It was hard to find better conditions than these.

A short delay of about an hour in the border crossing, with the compulsory luggage checks, and soon we were easing our way down the steep razorbacks winding their way into the valley below. The setting sun cast a beautiful pink glow over the powerful snow-capped peaks surrounding us, before slipping away into darkness through a variety of crimsons and reds on the horizon. It was night time in Santiago city when we finally disembarked from our minibus and wandered into the terminal to grab a bite to eat.

It would be a late night before we finally got to sleep in our new quarters on the YWAM base here, but our travels were now over, our main concerns gone. We had made it.

Hours Waiting for a Visa

The 3rd of March was three months since I last entered Argentina. According to the visa laws here I needed to leave the country today, or pay a fee of $100 pesos for another three month extension. Here in Puerto Madryn we are 18 hours by bus from Uruguay and 14 hours from Chile. They are the closest countries to us, and the bus costs range from $110 pesos upward for a one-way journey. So I opted for the extension.

Since Carol also entered the country at the same time (we were returning from Colombia) so she came with me. So too did Maricruz and Amelia, both of whom also had to renew their visas shortly. Well, Amelia had actually outstayed her visa and needed to fix this up too.

So early in the morning, Argentinian time, which is to say it was almost 8am, we headed down to the local Prefectura where you can renew your visa. A short wait of about half an hour and we were allowed to enter the gate and head towards the Migrations Office.

Continue reading “Hours Waiting for a Visa”

Vacation Time

At 2pm we loaded the truck and climbed in. Final goodbyes and we were off, the adventures had begun. The long straight roads through the Patagonian desert with views of unending plains of tiny thorn bushes provided little to break the monotony of our eight hour journey to Maca’s farm in Neuquen. It was here that I was catching up with Brodie and where we would be spending Christmas.

Christmas Eve
Carol was still back in Puerto Madryn, a decision that we had made together beforehand. This would be the first time that she and I would spend so much time apart, but with a lifetime together ahead of us it did not seem such a difficult decision at the time. Now, during Christmas celebrations with Maca’s family, it seemed a lot harder.

A complete goat was cooked up on the Asado (BBQ) and then devoured on Christmas Eve between us and the two families present. A small dish of lettuce and tomato accompanied our meat meal. At the arrival of midnight we toasted our glasses to Christmas and gave everyone a big hug, wishing them a happy day and God’s blessings. Then came the part we were all waiting for.

Fireworks
During the afternoon we had driven around town, buying up bunches of fireworks in preparation for this very moment. Now we were ready to see the results of our choices. With lighters in hand we grabbed our bags of pyrotechnics and moved away from the house, pulling out the smaller ones first. They were of all sizes and although we had no idea what they did, we were pretty convinced that the more they cost the better would be their display. So the expensive ones we left for last.

For the next forty minutes the skies were lit with dancing, exploding, and multi-coloured lights. On the ground there were three of us running in and out of the danger zones to set up the next rocket or bomb or whatever happened to come to hand at the time. Loud bangs and clouds of smoke surrounded us. Some of the dogs had scurried as had some of their owners, but mostly we had a crowd of very happy onlookers. And we were right – the bigger and more expensive fireworks let off the best displays ever.

Christmas
Christmas day dawned for us at sometime around midday, awaking to the smell of lamb being cooked on the asado. It too was complete, and provided us with far too much meat to finish even between the two families and us. The salad this time had been reduced to only lettuce, as there were no more tomatoes available. A lazy day out by the lake, throwing myself into its freezing cold waters and then warming my icy body in the rays of the sun filled the afternoon. The remaining hours of daylight (until around 9pm) spent in the plaza of the nearby local town. Dinner was all of the meat left over from the previous two asados. No salad was left by now.

On Tuesday morning we farewelled Maca, loaded up the truck, and headed west. It was just Brodie and me now, and we were looking for adventure.

A 17 Hour Drive to Puerto Madryn

After our final week in Buenos Aires, we packed up our truck, piled in and trundled off towards home. It was 6.30am when we finally hit the road, and after many bumps, trucks, turns, and tolls along the way, we finally rolled into our home in Puerto Madryn at 11.30pm. Seventeen hours of journey along the road, although not all of it was driving.

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Yenny and Maca on the wall at the beach of Las Grutas.

Breakfast
It was sometime around 8.30am that we rolled into a small town looking for breakfast. Nothing moved fast in this town, not even the traffic lights. Bicycles meanded at a tottering pace in front of us in the middle of the road, people scuffled slowly across the road blissfully unaware of all approaching traffic. Even the bicycles stopped and waited patiently at the traffic lights, with not another vehicle in sight. It was as though time did not exist. Needless to say, that our breakfast was very relaxing once we adjusted to the fact that it was going to take a long time to be served.

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Our road-trip crew. (L to R: Me, Carol, Maca, and Yenny).

Lunch
We ate lunch at a big service station at sometime around 3pm when we needed to refuel. Before this nobody felt very hungry. As usual, each meal was accompanied by a large cup of coffee, just the juice to keep me going. The only driver, I had been exhausted all week, so grabbed an early night last night to try and recover for today. It worked well, but the coffee was also helping to ensure that I remained alert for the entire journey. That too was working well.

So after some coffee, a meal, and various chocolates which of course were purely to help the coffee in its effects, we refuelled and hit the road once again. Each tank of fuel costs us $120 pesos and takes us about 400 kms. Not a great economy, but where we live the cost is subsidised by the petroleum companies in our state and costs us considerably less.

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Carol standing on the cliff watching the fishermen.

Las Grutas
In planning the journey, we had thought about stopping at various places for the night and enjoying the local beaches. That was until we discovered that the local beaches did not exist where we had friends who could host us for the night. So instead we planned to stop in Viedma and enjoy the beaches nearby, but once again a missed turn along the route meant that we were a long way from Viedma, and the sun was starting to quickly run out.

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Finally at the beach at Las Grutas.

Looking at the map once again, we saw that the next beach that we would pass by was at a place called Las Grutas. This is very close to Puerto Madryn (about 2hrs) but is also a very popular place. Having never visited here, and hoping that the late setting southern sun would hold out long enough, we pointed our noses towards Las Grutas with the hope that we would arrive in time to see something. We did.

We arrived just as the sun was setting. So heading to the beach, we sat down in a small kiosk and enjoyed icecreams and watched the beautiful views of the setting sun. It was a perfect way to end the daylight hours.

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Our vantage point to watch the final moments of the sun.

Arriving Home
Finally, with the sun set but still with a lot of twilight, we headed home. Another two hours on the road and one state crossing and we are entering into Puerto Madryn. Over the city are fireworks which we can see from our vantage point as we descend from the plains of the highway to the coastal township we call home.

It was 11.30pm exactly when we finally made it through the doors, and although my three companions for the journey had been able to sleep along the way, I was exhausted. Bed had never felt so great. Even better though, was that here there are hardly any mosquitoes, no humidity, and no heat. Sleep came very easily indeed.

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Sunset over the beach of Las Grutas.

Colombia – First Impressions

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A welcome sign and committee was present for us when we arrived.

It is now one week since I arrived in Colombia, and although it still maintains the feel of South America, it is very similar to Australia in many ways. The traffic however is not.

The Traffic
Many have mentioned the reckless way that people drive in Buenos Aires, and having lived there for some time I can agree that they are reasonably reckless. Here in Bogota however, they are completely wild and there seems to be no order other than to squeeze into any available space during peak hour traffic. To tell the truth, I actually quite like it, as this is how I always wanted to drive. In Australia it produces extremely angry drivers, but here it is the norm and what most people do.

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Stuck in yet another traffic jam amongst the foothills of Bogota.

The In-Laws
Alright, the real reason for me being here is to meet my future parents-in-law and to place before them the idea of marrying their daughter. In Latin America, there is a much stronger relationship between the father and daughter and sometimes letting go can be dramatic. Many people had told me stories of father-in-laws that tried all they could to stop the wedding from happening, so it was relieving when I finally arrived and discovered that God had already paved the way.

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(L to R) Carol’s Dad, Carol, Jorge, Carol’s Mum, Me.

One of the wisest things that happened, was that Jorge my leader in YWAM Puerto Madryn, came with us for the first part of our stay. His presence and (good) opinions of me helped to greatly calm and assure Carol’s dad that I was a good guy after all. We spent some special moments full of tension as I broached the important topics of already being engaged to Carolina and then later on, about how and when we would be getting married.

With God forging the path, everything went very smoothly and I have been accepted now as part of the family. In addition, friends and family have offered to help us out with the wedding preparations, including all of the paperwork that I need as an Australian before I can marry a Colombian girl.

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Together now with the approval of the family.

Enroute to Colombia

Yesterday I was in Puerto Madryn.
Today I am in Buenos Aires.
Tomorrow I will be in Colombia.

Two weeks in Colombia actually. To get to know Carol’s parents and family and to see a little of her country. Our flight stops in Peru and Ecuador on the way, so we get to see the main cities from the air.


Flying over Ecuador
Looking out as we fly over Ecuador

Ayer estuve en Puerto Madryn.
Hoy estoy en Buenos Aires.
Mañana estaré en Colombia.

Dos semanas en Colombia de verdad. Para conocer los padres de Carolina y su familia y para conocer un poquito de su país también. Nuestro vuelo parará en Perú y Ecuador antes de llegar en Colombia entonces podemos ver estas ciudades del aire.

Peru – The Diary Notes – Getting There

The story below is taken directly from my daily journal with a few modifications to clarify anything that may not immediately be clear.

Monday 10th July (Argentina – Buenos Aires)
It is 5.30am and we are still traveling. Arriving at the Liniers terminal in Buenos Aires early, we waited 1.5hrs for our pickup to the Ituzaingo YWAM base. A shower, some emails, lunch and time with friends and we are soon back in our bus on the way to the airport.

Waiting at the airport
Waiting at the airport

Now we are in the airport – early, waiting for Lloyds of Bolivia to open their counters. Oops. We were watching the wrong counters. They were already open but their computers were down. This meant that we were all scattered over the plane with nobody together. I could not change the date on my ticket either, with my return still set for the 26th July instead of the 5th September.

Customs and security completed, I am still with my scissors, but our plane is delayed and we don’t depart until 4.30pm. Now we are on our way in an old Boeing 727-200.

(Bolivia – Santa Cruz)
It’s a shambles. Nobody knows where we are going or what we are doing. We thought we were in transit but suddenly everyone has to enter into the country though customs. Bewildered we fill out the paperwork, then pass through.

Mari, one of our team, is detained. Bolivia requires that people from her country obtain a visa to enter. She does not have one as none of this was expected. We are distraught, but after consultation it is agreed that she will be escorted to the plane just before departure. We leave, still wary, but unable to change or do anything about it.

Now we are officially in the country. I try to adjust my ticket dates again. They confirm that the dates are fine in the computer, but a dispute remains as to who pays for the changes. It as the agency’s error, but in this part of the world that may mean nothing.

Next, we are told to line up at the check-in counters again, but nobody is attending us. Jorge finally finds a person working there on other things who tells us that we can go straight through to the gate as we already have our boarding passes for the next flight. It is a national gate.

Crowds in Santa Cruz
Crowds of people waiting to go through security checks.

Arriving at the gate we encounter a mess. It is like a herd of cattle all trying to fit through one tiny gate at the end, and indeed between 100 to 150 people (a rough guess) are all pushing in a group towards a tiny door (I find out on my return to Argentina that "Miss Bolivia" had just arrived moments before us and this was the contingent that had been traveling with her). We join them and move slowly toward our goal. Thirty to forty minutes of waiting sees us finally inside and waiting at our gate.

There is no Mari. While we wait, we send out a search party to find our missing group member, but with no luck. A second attempt encourages a guard to console us and he tells us that she will be escorted directly to the plane at the point of departure. After further questions we also discover that we have been waiting at the wrong gate, but our plane has been delayed again.

Finally we are on the plane. An announcement while at the gate scared us all. They told us that our existing seat allocations were null and void. Suddenly everyone was up and pushing into an anxious line, as many of us were now concerned that there could well be insufficient seats. With this airline very close to the point of closing down, anything was possible. We all made it aboard however, and there were plenty of left-over seats. To our relief we also see that Mari has also boarded this plane.

(Bolivia – La Paz)
After a short 45 minute flight we stop in Cochabamba at 10.15pm. This time we were able to stay onboard. After another short flight we are in La Paz, flying low over the mountainous edges of the Altiplano. Once landed, I get to exit the airplane by the rear tail-steps which brought back memories of my childhood flying days in Australia.

Our old Boeing 727-200
The old Boeing 727 allowed us to leave by the tail steps.

Once out, we all gather together in the terminal as a group and prepare to go through customs to leave the country. Mari still does not have her passport however, as it was taken from her and given to a flight attendant on the plane. She does not know who has it either, so I go with her to help sort all of this mess out. She is understandably quite concerned and worried about it all.

After finding an official person from the plane, we then seek another, until finding the man with her passport. He tells us to follow him through the checks into the common areas of the airport. Mari was even more stressed about doing this, but I reassured her as best as I could. Soon we were before another official who then took charge of the situation. She led us to customs and immigration and arranged with the officer there to allow Mari to pass through without a problem, after standing with everyone else in the line.

Once through, she was safe once again, and visibly relieved, although quite exhausted from the experience on top of all of the traveling. This was not the end of our dilemmas however. Katie, another of our team, considered her boarding pass old and used it to wrap up her chewing gum and throw it away. When she discovered that this was the very piece of paper that she needed to board the next plane, there was more rushing around between officials until somebody could replace her boarding pass for her. Soon enough however, she was passing through the security checks.

After safely making it through two previous security checks, my scissors were finally discovered and removed from me here in La Paz. Katie too, discovered that she had scissors in her hand luggage. Finally, at 12.30am in Bolivia (1.30am in Argentina), we are on our way again.

Flyng over La Paz
Flying over La Paz city in Bolivia.

Tuesday 11th July (Peru – Lima)
After a 1.5 hour flight we arrive in Lima very late, at almost 3.00am Peru time. I sleep most of the way, exhausted. Surprisingly, when we get there the pastor that was going to pick us up is still waiting. We pour out of the main doors of the airport as a group, pushing two loaded trolleys filled with our luggage. As we leave the lobby, we pass through lines of taxi drivers, all looking for customers.

The airport here has a very modern feel, recently built by a German company and complete with electronic eye bathrooms where everything is automated without touching a thing.

Two cars carry us all back, six in each car with four in the back as is common here. We pass through an area that looks like Las Vegas with all of the lights and casinos lining the street. Nobody feels like talking, but as I am in the front seat, I try. It was hard work trying to clear my brain of enough of the tiredness to think conversationally.

Traveling late at night
Late at night, everything seems like a blur.

Finally we reach our destination. A large house that is also used as a mission base for a church. I quickly find my bed down in the basement and within minutes am in and asleep. Exhausted. It is something like 6.30am in Argentina. 4.30am here.

The journey is over, I have finally reached Peru.

32 Hours in a bus non-stop

I left at 1pm yesterday. It is now 5pm the next day and I am still traveling, destination Corrientes. This sort of travel in a bus is not fun at the best of times, and on your own even less so. When I left Corrientes back in March this year, some of my stuff remained there and I am heading back to pick it up and to catch up with my friends.

In total I will have been traveling for more than 32 hours to arrive at my destination. Two days there and another 32 hour return journey adds up to around 3.5 days of travel, for a 2 day stay. Does all of this sound crazy to you? It sounds crazy to me too. Maybe a flight would have been better.

in the bus
Looking down the bus from my seat.

So what do I do during a journey like this? Having left my phone back at Puerto Madryn by accident, and forgetting to bring my mp3 player has certainly cut down on my options. But I have brought a great book and my Bible to read, a daily diary to write, and the occasional movie that is shown on the bus. Some hours are also easy to pass, by watching the changing countryside as it moves by my window.

During the early days of traveling, be it by bus or by plane, I used to simply sit and stare out of the windows until I was too tired to stay awake. I still enjoy watching the world go by, but am learning to make my travel times more productive. Carrying my laptop gives me almost 2 hours of time to write a story or perform some other activity, but that is only a drop in the ocean compared to most journeys.

the never ending road
The never ending road that stretched out before us for 32hrs.

Sleeping is not always easy either. Air conditioners that are too hot or too cold, noisy passengers, late night movies blaring, and streetlights flashing through the windows all work against a good nights sleep. Not to mention the positions needed to try to be comfortable without crinking your neck and yet be in a position where you are not rolling about with every corner. The odds are stacked against a decent sleep.

Last night I was fortunate to have an empty seat beside me where the armrest moves out of the way. Somehow, my whole torso fit into the space of these two seats, giving me the luxury of some form of "bed." It afforded me a better sleep than any previous bus trip. The only trap to this is that people can board at crazy hours during the night, causing a further disruption to sleep. Most trips the seat remains occupied.

the second sunset
Watching the last sunset as we race along the road.

My seat looks as though it will remain empty for the entire journey though, which is a luxury. At 9.30pm my bus arrives in Corrientes. It has been almost 6 months to the day since I left the YWAM base there on my Siambretta motorbike in search of adventure. One month in Bolivia, two in Australia, two in Peru, and the remaining weeks in traveling between each place. Time flies.

Unless you are in a bus 32 hours non-stop. 🙂