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I have officially survived my first 24 hours in Manhattan. I moved into my dorm yesterday, and met my new roommate, Christie. She's a sweet girl, so it won't be hard for us to get along, provided that we can keep our tempers under control in the shoebox we're sharing. I've lived in dorms before, I spent 3 years on campus at OkState, so I knew what to expect. My first roommate, April, and I shared a single room our Freshman year, and I was thinking that this dorm would be a lot like that. And, to be fair, it is...except that it's 1/4 the size. That's really saying something. My college dorm was 4 times as big as the one I'm paying $1,100/month for.

Now, when I say small, I mean tiny. The room consists of a dresser, a set of bunk bets, a mini fridge and a microwave. If we're both standing on the floor, there isn't enough space to open the door. Instead, we play a fun game of climb into/onto bed to let someone leave/enter the apartment. This also means that there is no room for storage, so we have all of our food items balancing precariously atop the microwave, and all of the bathroom essentials on top of the dresser. It's cramped, to say the lease. But, I guess that gives us the real NY experience! None of the glitz and glamour of an apartment with room to move that come with the comforts of outer city living.

All that said, I'm already really enjoying my time here. NY is enchanting to say the least. The people are rude, and downright crazy, things are more expensive that anywhere else I've ever lived, and it's a filthy, crowded stinkhole of an amazing city. You just have to look at that skyline to fall in love. And, because it's so crowded, you can find anything you need within a 4 block radius. I needed to drop off my watch at a Swatch to get it refitted, so I planned my day around the Times Square location. 2 blocks later I came across a fedex office where I needed to get some things printed/scanned, then as I started meandering towards the Chrysler building to get some photos, I found a Best Buy where I was able to get my camera looked at. And, just as I was leaving I had a thought that I would like to get some Indian food, when a man dressed as a menu walked up to me, and handed me a takeaway list for and Indian restaurant. It's like the city knows what you want!

I haven't quite figured out how I'll adapt to the crazies though. This morning I sat on the subway, when a homeless Schizophrenic man, toting a large trash bag full of cans sat next to me, and lit up a cigarette. While enjoying his illegal smoke, he crushed a coke can under his foot, lifted the can to his ear, and proceeded to have a conversation with Coca Cola through his can-phone. I got off at the next stop. I also saw two of NYPD's finest, lounging against an illegally parked car, having their morning coffee and donuts, when the car owner came out and shouted at them for sitting on his car. They had a full-fledged argument about who did the more illegal thing, before parting ways. The car owner didn't get a ticket, and the police officers finished their breakfast before walking off.

And then, of course, there was this:

I'm not certain, but I think I won at crazy-people-of-NYC bingo today.

How we finally made it to Bolivia

Our decision in Cordoba to go to Santa Cruz together was a bit of a relief for me. Bolivia is South America's poorest country, and I was a bit worried about crossing the border and taking night buses on my own. We've heard plenty of stories about night buses being hijacked, passengers being robbed, or buses going over cliffs in the night...even though all the stories seem to be at least about 5 years old.

We caught our bus from Cordoba, and arrived in a small town in Northern Argentina, called Metan, at 6 in the morning where we needed to wait for 3 hours to change buses. Rich and I had decided in Cordoba that we should use up all our Argentinian pesos on a nice dinner, so we only had a small amount left for breakfast, but it turned out to be just the right amount for 2 coffees and two tostados. We sat in the only cafe and watched Argentinian news for two hours, which was mostly about a competition between two cities to build the largest chocolate Easter egg. The footage ran on a 4 picture loop while newscasters tried to make a 15 minute story out of, which was repeated every hour.

When our next bus arrived, we hopped on board and were treated to a series of really bad movies, one of which was called "John Carter" and was basically a Star Wars meets Civil War film, via time travel. Prior to our trip, I had a visa consultation to get all the necessary paperwork in order for our trip. I got my Brazil travel visa, yellow fever shot, travel insurance, and all the other necessary fees ready for payment. I knew that I had to pay a fee in Bolivia and provide my yellow fever vaccine confirmation. Our bus pulled up at the border town of Yacuiba, and we queued to get our exit stamps from Argentina.  Stamps received, we re-queued for the entry into Bolivia. One Bolivian border official asked me if I had my visa. When I said no, he told me it would be $135 USD, which I informed him was fine as we had the money, so he sent me to another official. The next person told me I needed several other documents, including 2 ID photos for my visa. We argued back and forth for a while, and he provided me with an informal list of things I would need before I could enter Bolivia, and sent me into Bolivia to get these things done. I was told the bus would be waiting an hour as the road was closed to vendors until 6.30, and which time the bus would leave.

Rich and I ran through the streets of Yacuiba, which is a stark contrast from it's Argentinian sister city on the other side of the border. The streets are flooded with vendor stalls, selling anything from fruit to fake Nikes. Our first stop was a money exchange to get some Bolivanos, then we headed off looking for a photo stall. We asked a policewoman who sent us to the plaza, and found a small, doorless shop. The shop was set up in between two buildings as an afterthought and contained a red screen, and a man with a digital camera. He took my photo on a red background, and gave me four copies printed on glossy paper. We were about to go to an internet cafe, when we realized we only had 15 minutes left, so decided it would be better to go back and see if what we had was acceptable.

On our way back, we ran into our bus, which was leaving. We told the driver we needed out bags, and were waiting for someone to open the door, when a man who had been helping our bus passengers at the border approached me and told me it would be no problem to get my stamp, he could do it, and we'd catch the bus in time. Rich was skeptical, so we told him we'd get our bags and come back to the border. We again tried to get our bags off the bus, but the bus driver simply opened the door to get on. We jumped on the bus, and deliberated what to do next, deciding that it would be better to stay on the bus and just go to the embassy/consulate in Santa Cruz with all the documents and explain the situation. The border town, after all, was chaos. And who knows when the next bus will be? Our plan worked for a full 5 minutes, until the man who we left earlier jumped on board the bus and made us get off. He again reassured me that the bus would wait for us, but when I asked the driver he told me he had a schedule to follow and couldn't wait - fair enough. We grabbed our bags, and headed back to the border.

I gave them the documents I'd pulled together and told them about our internet cafe woes, where he still refused me entry, and told me I could come back, when I had the remaining items they wanted. Additionally, he now wanted a copy of my passport and my credit card. We walked back to the Argentinian border, explaining that I couldn't enter Bolivia, and we would be re-entering Argentina for the night. They told me I couldn't get a new entry stamp into Argentina, because I needed a Bolivian exit stamp before they could give me one, but they'd let us enter for the night anyway, and in the morning we wouldn't have any problems.

We wandered around the border town, before it became apparent that there was no way of getting money there, and we didn't have enough money to spend on a hotel for the night. The receptionist at the hotel did tell us that the nearby town of Tartagal had all the things we needed, and he found us a taxi driver that would bring us there, knowing we didn't have the money yet, on the promise we'd go to a cash point first thing. In Tartargal we found all the things we needed: a cashpoint, a hotel for the night, dinner, and an internet cafe with a printer to get the documents ready. We unsuccessfully tried to relax for the night, and then returned to the border the next day.

As I already had my Argentinian exit stamp, they sent me over to Bolivia to get my entry without further questioning. I handed all my documents to the Bolivian border officer, who looked at my passport, pointed out my previous days exit from Argentina, and told me I couldn't enter Bolivia because my exit stamp wasn't the same date. I argued with him about the previous days events, and he sent me back to Argentina. The Argentinian officials looked at my passport, and I explained again what had happened. Unfortunately, their protocol is that they can not give another re-entry stamp, unless I have an exit stamp from another country. I explained that I understood, but currently, I was in no country, and couldn't get a stamp to either exit or enter either country. This also meant that if I went to another port of entry, I'd have the same problems. The female officer explained that I needed to go back to Bolivia again and try harder. I could hear her and her colleagues talking about the situation as I started to walk over to Bolivia, and she called me back. She took all my documents and went with a male colleague to the Bolivian border to argue on my behalf. After about 20 minutes she came back and walked me to Bolivia.

The new Bolivian border officer told me "The problem stops with me", and started getting my paperwork ready. I thanked Argentina for their help, and when they laughed Bolivian man no. 2 handed me over to a woman. I gave her my documents, and the money, $135 USD. She sat counting the money, and held up a $20 with a tiny tear on the crease, and then a $5 with a black mark on the corner, and told me Bolivia couldn't accept money in bad condition, we would need to get money in better condition. We again argued that it wasn't possible. Where could we get USD in Bolivia? After a few minuted of back and forth, she sent Rich to the money exchange, where he traded all the money we'd taken from the bank last night for Bolivianos, and we paid the $25 USD of damaged funds to Bolivia in their own currency.

Finally having my visa and stamp in hand, we walked through the chaotic streets once more to take a taxi to the bus station. A $1 taxi ride later, we found plenty of offices offering trips to Santa Cruz. The only problem was that it was 10 AM, and every bus left at 8 PM. So, we'd need to wait 12 hours longer in this town before we could escape.

How we ended up in Cordoba

It´s no secret that travel plans tend to change... the weather, illness, and bad luck make sure of that. Rich and I seem to have run into a bit of bad luck lately.

Our plan was to go from Argentina into Chile for about 3 weeks, travel to Patagonia, back up to Santiago, and then cross over into Argentina once more to experience Mendoza. While in Patagonia, Rich finally found an affordable ticket to travel back to the UK for his grandparent´s 60th wedding anniversary. So, we decided that after Mendoza, we would travel to a Northern Argentinian town called Salta. From there, Rich would bus to Santa Cruz, Bolivia to catch his flight, and I would slowly work my way up to Santa Cruz to meet him upon his return. What we weren´t expecting, was Easter. My mother always says that Easter is the highest holiday, and that definitely seems to be true in Latin America. It´s celebrated from the Thursday- Tuesday, and there is a lot of travelers, both nationals and foreigners, visiting their families and beautiful cities.

Before our last day in the park with our new friends in Mendoza to drink out enormous wine, Rich and I stopped by the bus station to purchase some tickets for a bus to Salta that evening. We´ve been buying tickets on the same day, and sometimes 1 or 2 days in advance for our whole trip. We bought two nights in a hostel in Salta that morning, so everything was in order. We went to Andesmar, one our favorite bus companies to get our tickets, and were told all the buses leaving today were full. We tried a few other vendors, and found this to be the case everywhere. Unfortunately, because of Easter, Mendoza was also full, so staying an extra night wasn´t possible. Going back to Andesmar to reconfirm, the ticket salesman told us that yes, all the buses are full from Mendoza, however there are lots of seats leaving from Cordoba. Cordoba is only about 10 hours from Mendoza on the bus. Given our predicament, Rich and I decided that the best thing would be to buy an overnight bus to Cordoba, sleep on the bus, see Cordoba for a day, and catch and overnight to Salta. We bought our tickets to Cordoba leaving at 9PM that night, and headed back to a call center to call our hostel in Salta to change the booking.

I called the google provided number, and was told that this wasn´t the phone number for a hostel any longer, but the man provided me with the number of a hostel. I called that number and was told that was not the hostel where we made out booking. We checked online again, and I called a third number which was disconnect. After scanning various websites, we learned that our hostel had shut down several months ago, and had not yet been removed as an option on the hostel booking website. No other options were pulling online, so we decided to get to Cordoba, and find a hostel there, as we´d run out of time in Mendoza.

A quick overnighter later, we were in Cordoba. I spoke to the tourist information who gave me a list of hostels to call. I went to a call center to try out a few of the recommended ones, and quickly learned they were full. I called all 25 hostels in the list - no one had availability. We looked online, and there was nothing hostel/hotel, nothing in Cordoba, nothing in Salta. When I started to look for camping locations, Rich suggested we catch a 36 hour bus from Cordoba to Santa Cruz in Bolivia. I´m not one for long bus journeys, but even a 36 hour bus ride sounds better then sleeping in the bus station, so we bought tickets for a bus leaving that night. We spent a day walking around the city center, checking out a few museums, and spending the last of our Argentinian pesos on a few good steaks. Then, we went to hostel and asked to pay a small fee to use their internet and showers for a couple of hours, before catching our bus to Bolivia. So, maybe things didn´t go to plan, but it turned out to be a good day in Cordoba, and we have a new plan.

How we ended up with a 5 Litre bottle of wine

We arrived in Mendoza after a quick couple of days in Santiago. Beacuase of Easter, there were only a handfull of average to poorly rated hostels available, for higher prices that we expected. Our hostel was decent. The beds were terrible. The breakfast was low quality white bread with some sort of jam, and bad coffee. But overall, the hostel was clean, and fairly quiet. We got into Mendoza around 1 in the morning, after crossing the border from Chile, and went straight to sleep in order to wake up at 8 AM the next day to head to Maipu. Maipu is where the vineyards are. And, to make things more interesting, you´re permitted to rent bicycles, and ride bikes from one vineyard/brewery/absynth house to the next, tasting as you go.

We met some other tourists on the bus, and joined up for a day of wine and fun. The bike rental people sent us to the olive oil factory first, where we had a quick 2 minute tour of their lone, 2 yr old olive tree, and were told that their rel trees are some 15 km away. However, the tour was concluded with a tasting. At the first table we sampled olive spreads, balsamic vinegar, and different oils on fresh bread. At the second table we tried their jams/dulce de leche on more bread. And, at the third table we each received two shots of liquor. I´m not entirely sure why the olive oil factory has a liquor section made out of everything except olives, but they do. I was told that their Absyth was made with wormwood, which is no longer used in European varieties, so I tried it. It succeeded in burning my chest enough that I had a minor cough for the rest of the day. For my second shot I tried a rose liquor, which was much more delicate (as you would imagine) and much tastier.

From here, we rode our bikes about 8km to the first vineyard, Familia di Tommaso, which was an older, traditional style vineyard. The tour was significantly longer, and we all learned something new about wine. After the tour, we received 4 tastings, a Sauvignon Blanc, a Malbec, a Cabernet Sauvignon, and a sweet dessert wine with a savor of walnuts. They were all good, but the dessert wine was what struck everyone´s fancy, and we bought a couple of different bottles to enjoy later together. Later came much sooner than we expected, since we soon discovered that Rich had a flat tire, and we needed to call on the hire place to swap bikes. We went to the patio of the vineyard to drink a bottle of wine while we waited, and were told that we could only drink bottles bought through the waitress there, so we´d need to bring our shop purchased wine to the picnic area. The picnic area, about 100m from the winery was a couple of logs sitting next to random decaying bits of metal scrap. Nevertheless, the wine was just as tastey the second time around, and when we went back to our bikes, a fresh bike had been left for Rich.

We rode 3km back up the road to the next winery, Mevi, which was a small modern vineyard. At this point, we figured we´d already been to a few tours that day, so why not just buy a couple of bottles of wine between the 5 of us and drink them there? It´s much more cost efficient that way. So, we bought a Torrontes first, and when that had gone, a good red. The wine seemed to be getting better and better, and we savored our drinks for a full 1.5 hours at the second vineyard before we realized it was getting late, and we needed to make it to our last location before they closed at 6 PM.

The last location was just a quick 2k down the side roads to the beer garden. After a full day of drinking wine (in the sun), and riding bikes (in the sun) it was nice to sit in the shade and eat some pizzas, a few empanadas, and have just a quick one or two beers. Stuffed, hot, and very happy, we rode our bikes back to the rental place, with the intention of turning them in and going straight back to Mendoza. However, Mr Hugo´s bikes turned into a patio party with all the different groups mingling in the evening. We sat around for a couple of hours meeting new people and talking about our trips. Someone on a bicycle said something to one of the guys at our table and gave a thumbs up. Rich gave a thumbs up back, and the guy returned with a 35peso (6 USD) 5 litre bottle of wine, that we apparently (mis)communicated wanting. Mr Hugo quickly came by to pop it open, and it took me 10 minutes to chase him down to put the cork back in it. And so, at around 10:30 PM that night, the 5 of us parted ways with promises to meet again tomorrow in the park, to drink the jumbo wine.

Dangerous Items

After many weeks in Brazil, we've arrived in Argentina! I'm in love with Argentina, and am now trying to make a plan to move here some day. We crossed the border at Iguacu/Iguazu after spending a day on the Brazilian side of the falls. Beforing arriving, I asked a lot of people which side of the falls was better, and most people say somthing along the line of "Both sides are great, just different." While I agree that they are both nice, I'd say the Argentian side is better. The park is much larger, and you get the same spectacular views as the Brazilian side + close up views of smaller waterfalls.

Before leaving the states, I made sure to pack several essential items. I have my waterproof jacket, malaria pills, a bikini, and (because of experience living in Prague) a 6 month supply of tampons, with applicators. My supply is made up of a hodge-podge of random sizes and brands, collected by my sister who gets free samples in the mail, and leftovers from my parents house - stuffed into a gallon-sized ziploc bag. What I've learned in my travels is that most of the world either doesn't use tampons, or doesn't use tampons with applicators. And, to be honest, I have no idea how to handle one of the applicator free variety. Unfortunately, just before our arrival at the falls, it was time to break the supply out of the bottom of my big bag, and keep it in the day pack. Rich has had an obsession with getting down to one bag, while I seem to be gathering more and more stuff, so we'd been using his rucksack as the day bag during out tours of Iguazu. 

We had a great time in Iguazu, and I still can't get over how beautiful and impressive it is. We left Iguazu for Buenos Aires, using our favorite mode of transportation - the night bus. We're experts at the night bus now. Armed with snacks, the sleeping bag, a film on the laptop, and spare toilet paper, just in case, we boarded for the 18 hour bus ride from the falls to the big city. We watched "City of God", which is a great film, and settled down for some terrible bus sleep around 11 PM. The next morning, after having our bus-provided breakfast, we stopped at a securty check point, and two policemen boarded the bus. The did a quick scan for suspicious looking persons, and approached us. One policeman asked to see our passports, and then, deciding that we were very suspicious indeed, asked to see the contents of our bags. Rich, being the aisle seat, handed his over first. The policemen riffled through the bag...and that's when he pulled out a gallon of tampons. He opened the ziploc bag, and began to investigate each perfectly sealed packet. Then he turned to Rich:

Policia: Que es esto? (What is this)
Rich: Umm... para ella. (For her)
Policia: Que es?
Rich: (Looking at me in desperation)
Me: Son...algunos productos femininos (They are some feminine products)
Policia: (Calls for his comrade, holding a fistfull of tampons up in the air, shouting across the bus) Sabes que es? (Do you know what this is?)
Policia 2 : (picks up tampon and begins to look it over, feeling the shape of it through the packet.
At this point, everyone in the bus is looking at us. The woman in front of me, gives me a knowing look, and laughs a little under her breath at the genuine ignorance of the policemen, and Rich is frozen in his seat.
Policia 2: AH! (whispers to his comrade) Para Mujeres... (for women).
Policia: (still confused, begins to smell the bag and the individual packets)
Policia 2: (whispering...as if everyone else on the bus hadn't already figured it out) Tampones...(tampons).
The first policemen is still skeptical. "Why are they in his bag?" You can see him wondering. Policeman no. 2 walks away, after giving me a little nod. Suddenly, policeman no. 1 realizes there is an applicator device.
Policia: Ususalmente son pequenos, no? (They are usually small, right?)
Me: Si.
Policia: (smells another one) Y tienen olor? (And they scented?)
Me: Si.
He hands Rich back his bag, and reaches for mine. Upon opening it, bars of chocolate spill out into my lap, followed by two more tampons.

Policia: "Porque tiene muchos?" (why do you have so many?)...

Joao Pessoa

Today, were sitting in a glass walled dining room, overlooking the beach. The doors are open to let the breeze in. A cook brings us grilled cheese sandwiches, eggs, couscous, fruit, cereal, milk, juice, and coffee. After a few weeks of long bus journeys, and quick stopovers it feels really nice to be spoiled. Rich's friend, Rafael, comes from a nice family in Joao Pessoa. His mother, Rafael, and both his brothers are doctors. His father owns a dairy farm outside the city. They've just built this beautiful, open floor plan house on the ocean.

Rafael has taken some days off of work to show us around his city, and to take us to some of the countries nicest beaches. His family tells us that Joao Pessoa doesn't get many tourists, especially not overseas travelers, and they accept us warmly into their family for our stay. Mariana, Rafaels girlfriend, has taught me the basic steps for forro when they took us out for a night on the town. It's been really nice to stay with a family, and I hope that they all come visit us one day.

The Siren Call

Our guidebook accurately defines Jericoacoara as "A very lazy place". Jeri is by far the laziest place I have every seen, with the most active residents being the stray donkeys that wander around the beach village. We met a couple of travelers on our bus journey to the nearest town, and shared a buggy ride with them down to the village. Arriving in the heat of the day, we quickly abandoned our plan of wandering around the town to barter on room prices, and decided to get a room for the four of us to break up the costs. Our pousada had a nice family vibe, and a good breakfast, so it was a good choice.

Stores in Jeri open around 10 AM, and then close again from about 12 - 3 for the siesta/lunch time, and then open again from 4 - 12 AM. It takes no time at all to adjust to the schedule as the heat in the afternoon is unbearable. We didn't take the heat seriously enough one day, and all ended up with sunburns - Rich had a minor bout of sunstroke. It's east to fall into the schedule of the other residents: wake up around 9 for breakfast, nap until about midday, get your washing down and rest until the heat subsides, go to the beach for a few hours, then up to the dunes for sunset, home again for showers, dinner around 8 PM, and then to the Caipirinha carts to listen to the night's choice of music.

We stayed for 8 days, but like most people who go to Jeri, it was longer than we expected. Some people go for a week and stay for a month. And, by the look of it, some people go for a month and stay forever. If it weren't for the fact that we were on a deadline to make it to Salvador for carnival, I'm not sure we would have ever left.