20 January 2011

After a few prayers and persistent turns of the key, the engine finally started. I had given up for the night and pushed the car further off the road so I could sleep. But I also really wanted to make it to Posadas.

I had to slow down for a car and this caused the engine to die again. Not wanting a repeat of that and risking the car not being able to start again in the middle of nowhere I decided to pass a semi on a curve. I moved to the left just in time for the oncoming semi I didn’t see to ram my side and send me bouncing into the guardrails. The airbags deployed with a stunning violence knocking me senseless. It was all a blur. The kind of hackneyed blur you always hear about from accident victims. I was very upset that my adventure had come to such a foolish and sudden end. I almost cried on a bare chested truckers shoulder.

The semi that hit me and the semi I was following both stopped a few meters off. The trucker I was following was shaking his head and calling me stupid. I kept asking what we should do. Should we call the police? A line of cars was forming behind my broken automobile which was in the middle of the road. It started right up and I drove it to the dirt. A group of truckers who were parked not far away sleeping had come over to gawk.

One tire was wasted, the other was flat as well. I changed the worst looking tire, drivers side front, and filled the passenger front tire with fix-a-flat. It filled right up but I heard a hissing. I didn’t have much time. I took off as fast as I could. Everyone had abandoned me. No one had called the police. I was on my own and I needed to get to the next police station before my car completely died.

The car was already dead. The passenger side was smashed in, glass was everywhere, and strange clicking noises were emanating from the motor. I couldn’t believe I was driving the car or still alive. I hadn’t even checked my face for cuts and blood and bruises but the shirtless trucker said I looked fine and I didn’t feel any blood running down my chin. I as more concerned with the journey and my car. If the car was going now then I maybe I could still drive it back to the states. All my delusions were exposed when the car finally died and wouldn’t restart. Now I was completely devastated.

I was going to start walking but thought the better of it and was able to flag down a car to call the police. It was the fifth car to pass. While waiting I took out my guitar and played a song called “I’m Glad I’m Not Dead Cus I Should Be”. Made it up on the spot. I should be dead.

The cops came and we loaded up their truck with some of my more important things. While heading into town they got a call that the tow truck was on its way so we turned around back to the car. I gave two of the cops my California license plates. They were gendarmes, national police. There was a lot of small talk I had a bit of a time following.

The tow truck was a pick-up with a platform. We pushed my car onto the platform and headed into town. Alvear. The same place where I had just had my exhaust fixed. Both of the hotels we drove to were full so I slept in the dorm at the Gendarme’s office. One of the cops said he would drive me around to customs in the morning. Customs said all I needed was a detailed note from the Gendarmes detailing the accident and that my car was junk.

I bought a bus ticket to Buenos Aires for 7:45 pm. It’s time to fly back to the states. I’ve been hanging out with the Gendarmes all day. I even had lunch with them. The ladies cooked some rice and meat in the kitchen. There is a small vegetable garden and a few cats. I ended up giving away a lot of things I don’t need, can’t take with me, and shouldn’t have brought in the first place. It was very hard to pare down my possessions and even now I know I have too much stuff.

Aside from the pain in the left side of my neck, I don’t feel any hurt or pain from the accident.

In Alvear the aduana is right on the Rio Uruguay which separates Brazil and Argentina. There was a ferry floating a single car across to Argentina. I took a picture of the skyline, the steeple poking through the trees. This is the closest I will come to Brazil.

There's Brazil on the other side of the river

I walked to the bus station around 5:30 tired of sitting in the Gendarmes office all day. I had watched two movies on their T.V., Catch Me If You Can and some skateboard movie with Hilary Duff. I took out my guitar to play and the guy running the ticket booth came out to listen. He also played pretty well. All of a sudden his friend sped up, got out of his car, and began playing samba and singing. He was excellent. A girl in a sundress rode by on a scooter. The sun was bright. Two horses were wandering around town and had started grazing near the street. Two children from next door came out to listen to the music.

After the musician left, Edgar, the Gendarme who had provided so much assistance showed up with his girlfriend. The girl in the sundress was with them. She took several pictures with me. In one she was holding my guitar. She wanted me to play some Bon Jovi. I told her I didn’t know any. She and Edgar’s girlfriend were sipping maté brewed with cold orange juice. I had a sip too. Before they left Priscilla, that was the young girl’s name, said, “I love you.” I said, “Te amo.” Everyone had a laugh. No one else stopped by to talk or play guitar.

19 January 2011

It was raining when I woke at 9am. I should’ve bought an alarm clock. I was hoping to leave around 6. The rain and clouds followed me for a few hundred miles. Then it became blue with no grey at all.

 I hung out at a gas station on wi-fi, drinking coffee for a good half hour. When I left I forgot to turn on my headlights. This lapse earned me a ticket from the cops at the checkpoint a few meters ahead. I told them I had no money to pay. They entered everything into a computer and said I could pay at the border In Puerto Iguacu. I watched them stop several cars with their headlights off. They let them all go with a warning.

I got pulled over a few hours later. Pulled over isn’t accurate at all. The lady cop in the road motioned for me to pull over. She wanted my insurance so I gave her my New York insurance like I did in Peru. Worked like a charm. Then she asked if I had a fire extinguisher and a triangle. I did not so I got another ticket. 

In her office while she was typing the information into the computer her boss wandered in and I asked him to show me the law. He showed it to me. I protested that no one had ever asked about a fire extinguisher or triangle. She printed out the information and told me I needed to show the paper to customs when I exit the country. I am definitely not going to do that. If they look me up and find that I owe two ridiculous fines I will do my best to get them dismissed. I’m not going to help them out.

Neat cloud

There is a lot of construction along Ruta 14 because they are expanding the road to four lanes. I almost wrecked when a car trying to pass me and a bus cut me off because he did not have enough space to pass and there was an oncoming car. I got ran off the road because I wouldn’t let him in.

At one point in the road there was a huge smokey grassfire and we had to wait about twenty minutes at a roadblock before the cops escorted us through. Later I saw a larger grassfire but there were no cops stopping traffic. The moon loomed large on the horizon as it rose. A pale red.

Grass fire

There are several new forests along the highway because there is a lot of logging.

I stopped to get gas and saw my phone was back in touch with the satellites. It was showing the time once more. Now I can set my alarm. It’s been a hassle ever since the battery popped out in Ushuaia. I had dinner at the restaurant next to the gas station. The owner is Ukrainian. 

Thirty miles after dinner my car started stuttering and the check engine light began flashing wildly. In a panic I pulled over and rummaged for a flashlight and popped the hood. I decided to head back to the gas station I saw on the edge of the town I had just entered. The car died on the way so I pulled over again.  But it started right up.

At the gas station I checked the oil and everything else. A man came over asking questions and helping me check. Everything looked okay. I did’t understand what happened. On my way to the bathroom to wash my hands a very fat man said “Hello” and asked if I spoke English. H said he had been a commercial diver in Houston for the oil industry. His name was Juan Carlos. He called a mechanic friend and gave me a beer.

The mechanic showed up with three other guys  in a crazy looking dune buggy. It looks like he dismantled a few cars and put them back together. He didn’t see any problems but he said he could fix the loud exhaust problem. He said he’d do it for 100 pesos more or less. That’s $25!! We went back to his shop. All the bumpy roads and my fast driving had disconnected the exhaust pipe. He had to cut it off so he could weld it together.

We did a test drive and he heard the problem. The pistons, he said. He sent me to another mechanic with a guy who was helping him. This mechanic said it was the oxygen sensor. He said I could probably make it to Posadas or Puerto Iguazú with no problems.

My car died just before the bridge on the way out of town.

18 January 2011

The line outside the U.S. embassy was quite long. Many people want a visa. I was able to get in right away though because I am a citizen. I was there to add pages to my passport. I could not come yesterday because the embassy was closed for the Martin Luther King holiday. They told me to return at 2:30 to pick up my passport. That means I have to hang out in Palermo for 3.5 hours.

I walked down to Oui Oui Café on Nicaragua for a late breakfast. Eggs benedict. It’s on a very busy and noisy street corner. There is construction going on and cement trucks are idling loudly. The table with the English or Aussies, and really who cares which, is also annoyingly loud.

Last night I was using my laptop outside at a cafe and two older men walked up and said I shouldn’t use my computer outside because someone could snatch it and run off. Not impossible but highly unlikely and patently paranoid and ridiculous. The only people who came up wanted money not my laptop. One guy had a laminated sign in perfect English. Why would he have a sign in perfect English in Spanish speaking Buenos Aires? Because its a scam.

I returned to the embassy a half hour early and they told me to wait outside till 2:30. I asked if I could use the bathroom.They let me in. I didn’t get my passport until 3:15. I was pretty angry for having to wait. I hightailed it out of there and caught the subway to San Telmo and walked around Plaza Dorrego and down Defensa and back to my hotel.

Some part of Buenos Aires

I did some research about Brazilian visas in Puerto Iguazu and went to get some passport sized photos. That took a lot of time and effort but I found a place to do it for me. He even cut them so the Ak-47 on my shirt was cropped off. I cannot wait to leave Buenos Aires tomorrow. A lot of things here have been disappointing but its an enjoyable city. I could live here.

Walking back to the hotel from San Telmo I saw a car on fire on Ave 9 de Julio. High orange flames and thick black smoke poured out of the car. I thought it was going to blow at any moment. Traffic was backed up and a lot of bystanders were snapping photos and taking video footage. The fireman arrived and doused the flames before the car could explode.

17 January 2011

Last night I kept hearing applause so I went to search out the source. There was a large group gathered around two guys lip-synching a drama as a man and a woman. Later more of them were dancing a la Michael Jackson. One was even dressed like Michael circa smooth criminal.  They danced to a medley of MJ songs and did some of the dances in the videos.

Today has truly been disappointing. I walked all the way to the Venezuelan embassy only to learn that despite what the USA state department website says, I don’t need a visa to enter Venezuela. I did not understand what the lady was telling me at first so I sat back down watching other people do paperwork. Then it dawned on me that I probably needed to give her copies of my documents so I asked and understood nothing in response. Finally I was told in English by another worker that I did not need a visa. Thank you state department website for the misinformation.

On the way to the Brazilian embassy I witnessed a horrible car accident. Two cars. One veered off the other over the curb and across oncoming traffic lanes of traffic which were empty and into a large tree with exposed roots.  All I heard was the squeal of tires and the thump as the car ran over the roots. I don’t think anyone was hurt because I saw everyone exit their cars and walk around.  A jogger also stopped to help out.

At the Brazilian embassy I was told I needed to make an appointment but the next available date is January 26th which is too far off. I was told I might be able to get one at the border at Foz do Iguaçu. 

I headed over to Clasica y Moderna, a highly recommended cafe/bookstore which I had attempted to drink at twice yesterday. It’s not a cafe. It’s a high priced fancy restaurant with a tiny bookstore in the back. So once again I can drink a coffee here but this is no place to hang out or read.

After that I walked probably two miles to the Che Guevara museum.  It’s not really a museum.  It’s a shop that houses some of the artifacts from the the museum after it closed down. There was a sign posted on the shut metal garage door: “Cerrado por vacciones”. What a let down. I took the subway back towards the hotel. With its wood paneling interior and tiny ceiling lamps and open windows it was pretty quaint. Tomorrow I will take the subway to the U.S.embassy. My feet are tired from walking all day but I got to see a large swath of downtown and Palermo.

Che Guevera museum

16 January 2011

I thought someone stole my iPod. The light in my car was on and my iPod was gone. What a bummer. It was under my jacket on the backseat. I blasted The Dodos’ Visiter twice plus two William Shatner albums. I drove until almost 2 am. I finally pulled into a closed gas station and climbed in the backseat to sleep.

I woke at 7:30, filled up the tank, washed my face, and was in Buenos Aires by 10 am. Just before the two lane separates into a four lane autopista I drove past a sexy photo shoot at an old gas station. I followed the signs for Centro. There wasn’t much traffic downtown. I consulted my guide for a good cafe but the one whose review I liked was closed. So was the next one I went looking for. Both hostels the guide recommended were full. The largest hostel in Buenos Aires with 300 beds was full until Thursday. I did not think well of this situation. I took my laptop and when for a stroll down Florida Ave, a pedestrian mall, looking for a cafe with wi-fi.

Lots of vendors and street performers. Tango dancers and musicians. Blankets spread out with all kinds of trinkets. Instead of a cafe I found a cheap hotel for three nights. 60 pesos a night. The receptionist said I should park in a garage. Two American girls checked in before me. The place is a bit rundown and almost seedy. Reminds me of the hotel in downtown Portland. The plaque out front says “Hostel Touristico”. There’s wi-fi.

The internet said the second cafe, Tortoni, was open so I walked on over. It still looked closed: door shut tight, windows covered, no outside seating, but the door was actually slightly ajar so I poked my head in. I was seated right away.

I’ve been ordering cafe con leche because coffee and milk are what I like.  But in this part of the world a cafe con leche is more like a cappuccino. Scouring over the menu I saw they had cafe con creama and something in my brain clicked. I ordered a cafe con creama and apple pie a la mode. The waiter returned with a tiny espresso shot and a large bowl of thick cream. With a dab of cream the coffee was perfect. This is what I’d been searching for and not just in South America but in all my coffee experiences for the past five years. I was instantly transported back to Adrianna’s and playing cards with Jenni. No more cafe con leche for me. But a cafe wasn’t going to be enough for me so I ordered a cafe dobla and mixed in the rest of the cream. Two old couples were seated at the table next to me. One of the men had a baseball cap from Port Lockroy Antarctica. Cafe Tortoni is very old and beautiful but it’s not a place to hang out all day.  It’s a restaurant not a cafe.

On the walk back to the hotel I saw an edition of Borges’ complete works in a bookstore window and the urge to read his poetry suddenly and irrationally overtook me. No bookstore I’ve been to has Borges in English. It started raining.

I used the wi-fi again to plan my route to the embassies of Venezuela and Brazil tomorrow. I also discovered El Ateneo, a bookstore with a cafe. It’s in a refurbished theater and is listed as one of the most beautiful bookstores in the world. The cafe is on the stage. The first cafe I went to was listed as opening at 5 on Sundays so I walked on down but even at 6 pm it was still closed. El Ateneo however was open.

El Ateneo bookstore

I imagine Buenos Aires will roar to life tomorrow but for the moment everything is closed and traffic is minimal. There’s a large obelisk in the middle of downtown. Either there is no defined skyline or I haven’t seen it from the right angle yet. All the buildings are dingy off white and old. It seems like an exciting place.

This morning a man trying to lure customers into his store asked a passerby, “Would you like to see a leather jacket?”  It was very funny.

15 January 2011

I slept in my car last night. The previous entry was written in a sleepy whirl. The road turned to dirt again but only for a few miles. From Malargüe onward the road was paved. I ran out of gas a mile outside of Malargüe when I stopped to take a picture of a sign. I filled up with the spare gas.

Saw this early in the morning

In town I hung out at the gas station using their wi-fi and having a coffee. I was on my way out of town when I spotted a Goodyear. So I changed my tire rather than risk breaking down on the way to Mendoza.

While waiting for the tire I walked into the AT, looked for a new funnel because the one I have spills the gas everywhere (no one had one in stock and I searched every store in town), and bought a new side mirror. It took me a while to figure out how to attach and I had to go to a hardware store I was at earlier to buy some screws and nuts. The owner helped me put it together. Outside the city I bypassed three girls but turned around to pick them up. I saw someone else had stopped so I continued on down highway 40 to Mendoza.

Up the road I got stopped by the cops. He asked if I had drugs or weapons. He also informed me that just around the corner route 40 turned to gravel and dirt for 70 miles. So I took the paved detour for route 40 up 144 towards Mendoza. That’s when I decided to skip Mendoza and just head for Buenos Aires. I only gave one guy a ride today. Drove him for about 40 miles.

After Malargüe the land changed considerably from bleak sandy semi-desert to arable pasture land to bountiful flourishing green farmland. I saw fields of corn and sunflowers today. Northern Patagonia is quite different from the southern pampas wasteland of shrubs and guanacos.

Roadside memorial to someone

Yesterday I saw a lonely mountain way off in the horizon like Mt Fuji or Mt Hood. Same kind of slope. It was Lanín Volcano. Now the land is rolling plains like Iowa or Wisconsin.

Field of sunflowers

I am quickly running out of money. It will be a miracle if I can get out of South America with my car. When I get back to the states I will be heavily in debt all over again but it will have been worth every dime.

The guy I picked up told me today was Saturday. I had no idea. I can’t get a visa until Monday. I still have a lot of work to do. My trip back home will be truncated but these outrageous repairs ($100 for a tire!!!!!!!!!! $100 for a tire is extremely outrageous) are bleeding me dry.

Long days of driving are causing me to rush past tiny exciting details when I write. I get so tired and feel rushed. I have a long way to go. I stopped at a shell gas station to shower. I will drive for a few more hours and sleep in my car.

14 January 2011

I left Lago Puelo in a rush this morning, eager to be alone on the road once more. I didn’t even pick up the two backpackers outside of El Bolson. I felt bad a little but they would survive.

I got to Bariloche around eleven. I stopped at a mechanic/gomeria to see about the crack in my window but he said he couldn’t do it and recommended someone else whom I couldn’t find. I parked and walked downtown in search of chocolate and wild boar. I also took my laptop in case I found wi-fi as well.

I bought a few tasty chocolates at a confectionary called Mamuschka. There was a matryoshka russian doll motif. The decor and employee dress was very European. Not Russian at all. I bought several samples of rich delicious chocolate and they went down fast. They were wonderfully delicious.

I walked around a bit down the tourist strip. Tourism is the main source of income for Bariloche. Wealthy Brazilians and Argentines vacation here in the summer to ski on the beautiful lake and in the winter to ski on the beautiful mountains. There is a wall with two arches which encloses a small area with the bronze statue of a horse and rider. I found a cafe with wi-fi.

Finding a restaurant with wild boar, jabalí, proved difficult. I wandered the streets for about half an hour before I entered the first place I saw that had it on the menu. The waiter said they were out but as soon as I got up to leave he shouted at the cook to ask if there might be any wild boar remaining and thankfully there were two orders still in the fridge. It turned out to be not so great. Pretty ordinary actually. It reminded me of dinners my mother used to cook when she boiled the meat and it would curl up and little pools of meat water juice would form in the cup.

I read a few passages of “In Patagonia” while waiting for my food. I finished the book sitting on a low wall overlooking Lago Nahuel Huapi. While being an entertaining read, it sure wasn’t “On the Road.” So I read “In Patagonia.” Great.

The gas station only allowed me to fill up 20 liters which was a 100 pesos limit. A little worrisome. The odometer messed up when I tried to reset it which was a pain. My gas gauge does not function so the odometer is very necessary for alerting me to when I should fill up the tank.

I bypassed two backpackers and instead picked up a single guy with a small bag. His name was Julio. I dropped him off at the intersection of highways 40 and 237. Almost immediately I picked up another guy hitchhiking. I drove him about thirty miles.

Volcano Lanín? 

Approaching Zapala there were all kinds of bicyclists and joggers. A bit strange to see. I got gas and gave a lift to a man and his son thirty miles up the road to Las Lajas. In Las Lajas the road turned to dirt in a neighborhood but almost immediately reverted back to pavement when I crossed the river.

Vote for the Moustache Party

I stopped to take a picture of a dead cow. The animal was completely hollow. There was a large circular cut on its anus and its underbelly was also sliced open. All the guts were gone but the bones and hide remained. I kicked it and it was very stiff.

This is when I noticed my rear driver side tire was completely ruined. There was a cut and a large air bubble on the sidewall. It’s only a matter of time before it goes. Probably from the  hundreds of miles of gravel roads in the past two days. The mood immediately turned somber. Julio said it was all pavement between Bariloche and Mendoza. There is only providence on which to rely. I also noticed my right headlight was out. More problems.

At Chos Malal the police stopped me to check my papers while about ten other cars and trucks sped on by. I saw a sign for Route 40 and got out to take a picture. That’s when I saw a little bit of light emanating from the dead headlight. I popped open the hood to have a look and saw the light had simply slipped out of place, again probably due to the gravelly, bumpy roads. Putting it back in place took no time and I was soon back on the road.

The roads were good for about 150 more miles then there was 30 miles of dirt. But it was better than the previous gravel and dirt roads because it was smooth with no large mini boulders and some of the pavement was still on the ground. It was bumpy but all in all it was quite smooth. No problems with the bad tire yet but it is a ticking time bomb and I hope it holds until Mendoza.

In Bariloche I saw three girls who were friends with Jordan and who had been at Onda Azul. We ate dinner with them. I did not stop to say hello. They were at a table drinking coffee and smoking. I wonder who else I will run into. I wonder if I will see Jordan again.