A big welcome in New Zealand

Perhaps we had gotten so used to being easy-going, laid-back, South-American nomads that we didn't see any of it coming. Our first day in New Zealand was one in the airport, and it was quite a long one after a total of 24 hours of traveling and an 8-hour time difference.

We managed a soothing concerto of "Oops" and "Really?" and "Is that so?" sounds when the customs lady informed us that we needed an outward ticket in order to enter the country. Despite our charming personalities, she sent us into a waiting line in order "to have a conversation with the customs officials", who informed us that we were a special case because we should never have been allowed to board the plane without an outward ticket. We became discouraged as the long line of problem cases from mostly South-America, Africa and Europe dissolved before our eyes. With the help of our airline we eventually managed to book a ticket to Australia and we were on our way.

Confused passenger

Wait a second. Of course our luggage was not on the conveyer belt anymore and Graham experienced a mild panic when his bag appeared to be missing. We searched all over, in our minds already cursing the customs desk for keeping us up so long and eventually realised that for some strange reason Graham's luggage had been kept apart behind a counter in the luggage area. We grabbed our bags and we were on our merry way again, we thought.

We smiled at the officer with the drug sniffing dog as he passed by. Maybe we smiled too much because the dog took an immediate liking into Graham. Our smile turned a little bit awkward and we were taken aside for questioning. This is where thoughts run through your mind like "Wait, why was Graham's bag really behind that counter? Did somebody put drugs in it?" but we friendly answered all their questions. We were questioned separately but both our conversations went something like this:

>"Where are you fellas flying from?""Santiago de Chile, but via...">"Please just answer the question and let me do the talking.""Yes sir.">"Have you been traveling around South America?""Yes sir.">"Do you have any drugs on you?""No sir.">"Did you do any drugs in South America?""No sir.">"My dog seems to like you/your friend.""Yes sir.">"I'm not interested in recreational use of drugs so just answer honestly: did you use drugs in South America?""No sir.">"You went to South America and didn't do any drugs?" [disbelief]"No sir.">"Do you smoke in Belgium?""No sir.">"W0000T?"

And so on. Eventually they recognized us for the honest and friendly non-drug-using gentlemen we are and we were on our way, we thought.



Next we were sent to a customs check where we were asked to show our hiking boots for any rural remains. Dimitri's eyes widened as he stood beside the officer and watched his bag pass through the x-ray machine. His machete was clearly visible, a huge chunk of metal distinguishable in the middle of his bag. This conversation went something like this:

Officer: "Weeeell, that is a huuuuuge machete in your bag!">Us: Uncomfortable laugh.Officer: "What are you gonna use that for over here? Slicing coconuts are we?>Us: Uncomfortable laugh.Officer: "Well on your way you are then, have a great stay."

We took our bags and got out of there as fast as we could.

D&G

P.S. Contrary to what we thought beforehand, WIFI is in most places either not as widely available as in South America (whaaaat?) or extremely expensive. If you see less blog posts passing by, then you now know why.

The South American Dream

So I did it! After some incredible hardcore trekkings (horse riding, climbing,...) with Lola, a Belgian friend living in Chili, and a quick visit to friends in Buenos Aires, it is time to look back.

Some photographs resulting from the amazing treks near Cochamó

I lived it. The dream to conquer the South American content, to dance salsa, to swim around wonderful islands, to dive, to sail, to ride horses, to do amazing treks in the Andes, to speak Spanish, to live the caliente way. All the way from Nicaragua, the Corn Islands, crossing through Costa Rica, meeting up Graham in Panama, sailing via the San Blas islands to Colombia, Ecuador, Galapagos, Peru, more Peru, Bolivia, a small split up with Graham to check out Chili and Buenos Aires,... an endless list of wonderful moments and pure passionate pleasure.

I did not plan many things. We drew a line on the South American map, asked around and started the trip with a well prepared bag. Now (see right) the line we drew fits pretty well with the line we had in mind. Of course we could have done more. Travelled faster. Visited some countries more. But instead we sticked to places we really loved, we enjoyed the moments as they came and were never ever stressed about busses we could miss or anything like that. It was travelling the "tranquilo amigo" way.

Right now, we are heading for the next best thing, the next season of our series of adventure: as you are reading this, we are sitting on an airplane to New Sealand.

Take care,
Dimitri

Carnavals, mines and loooots of salt

Since our last post about La Paz, so much has happened that mentioning every single thing would lead us too far, but we wouldn't be engineers if we didn't serve you with a few facts. Since La Paz:
- if one combines the amount of kilometers we have both traveled, it roughly amounts to 6430 km
- we have saved 5.49 GB of pictures, and this after Dimitri spent late nights making a best-of selection
- we have gone up to 5200 meters altitude, with temperatures below freezing, and we went down to 0m altitude, with tropical 35+ degrees Celsius.
- the trip amazingness factor has multiplied by three.
 What on earth have we been doing? I'll try to summarize.

 First off was the Carnaval in Oruro, which despite apparently being legendary among South-Americans, is little know among Western tourists. Since all buses from La Paz were completely packed we decided to split a three hour taxi ride with two sympathetic Frenchies, François and Anouck, and ended up paying the equivalent of only 15 euros each.

The carnaval was amazing. One group after another performed traditional dances in simply spectacular outfits with tunes by large marching bands. The crowd went wild and joined in the festivities as Bolivian beauties in short skirts and machos in impressive outfits walked by. As we were some of the few "gringo"-looking people around we were frequent targets for kids armed with foam sprays and extravert locals wanting a photograph with us. We had so much fun that, together with the Frenchies we went out clubbing late into the night and had the time of our lives.

After Oruro, we stopped by in Potosi, the highest city in the world. In Potosi we decided to finally take on Carcoke's mission to descend into a mine. It turned out to be one of the most memorable and exhilarating things we did so far. Let me tell you about 4090m altitude: it is hard to breath up there. Now imagine what the breathing was like when crawling down three levels of a mine shaft on your stomach with temperatures rising up to 30C. This one was definitely not for asthma patients nor claustrophobics. Nor for people that mind a rod of dynamite exploding 15 meters further down a narrow mine shaft.

Down in the mine we met two Belgians from Ninove, Davy and Bert. Their sense of humor was so delightfully Belgian that we couldn't resist traveling onwards with them, and we didn't regret it for a minute. Well, maybe when the four of us were forced to hitch hike because the second bus in a row in Bolivia had a part of it exploding. Two is just a more convenient number to hitch hike, but then again we eventually made it to Uyuni, where we went on the spectacular Salt flats tour, leaving us breathless at the Bolivian landscapes and had us overnighting at 4800m altitude.

At the end of the tour we reached San Pedro de Atacama in Chile. A relaxed little city with lots of fun activities. We went sandboarding, mountainbiking for a disputable 50 km, and last but definitely not least, we participated in a memorable astronomical tour, exposing amazing sights of the milky way which cannot be seen from the northern hemisphere and providing an astonishing look at Saturn which left us awing in amazement for a large part of the late night.

In the lunar valley of San Pedro de Atacama

As you all know we take the missions you send in very seriously. Even though we aren't able to perform all missions successfully, sometimes due to weather circumstances, itinerary differences or just shameful forgetfulness, we do make an effort. This is also the case for the mission of Carcoke which demands an itinerary that forms a huge smiley with at least 100 km diameter. Well, Carcoke will be pleased to see that we have decided to split up in the next two weeks, in an already infamous attempt to create a huge smiley with an estimated diameter of 1100 km. Have a look for yourself.

Legend-wait for it and smile-dairy

Salar de Uyuni

The AC in Bolivia

After some great days around (Puno, Copacabana), above (Islas Flottantes, Isla del Sol) and in (Dimitri went for a cold swim again) the Lake Titicaca, we ended up in Bolivia's capital, La Paz. We both felt like hitting the unpaved non-touristy road and decided to go and hit a ball on the highest golf court in the world.

We bought two baskets to re-work our swing, and went for a dozen of high-holes.

The views on those courts were amazing, as well as a (very) few of our second-in-our-lifetime swings. Our caddies provided us with some sneaky tricks, which actually allowed us to finish the most difficult and most infamous hole, where the green was litterally separated from the hole by a canyon, with a splendid 'on the par'. True story.



After completing the golf game, we found a DVD with the footage of two odd dutch-speaking guys (see below), apparently biking down the most dangerous road in the world, another strenuous activity which can be done around La Paz. The after-bike is crazy, with some swimming pool activities and after-bike drinking in the bus. Or so we have heard because we would of course like to stress that we would never participate in this kind of dangerous activities!!



Since one of the biggest carnavals in South-America is about to happen in Oruro, we decided to skip the rainy jungle with its pleasant mosquitos and head directly to the loco carnaval. More about that one later.

Hasta luego,
Graham & Dimitri

Indiana Jones meets Machu Picchu

As our parents asked us to not do anything stupid and to preserve everything we had accomplished in our lives, we generally try to avoid extremely dangerous activities. This stopped us from jumping of a 15 meter cliff in Galapagos, just like we decided not to bike down the most dangerous road in the world. That's right parents, we have taken your words into serious consideration. Admittedly that didn't prevent us from visiting Colombia, diving with sharks, and riding on horses, and so on.

But we really thought about it. As all the financial experts know, an extra risk often brings an extra reward. The most unforgettable moments are sometimes the unexpected, unprepared and adrenaline-pumped moments we never dreamed would happen. Being attacked by a huge sea lion. Getting robbed by armed gangsters. Traveling in a 600 horsepower boat. Horse-riding at full speed through the wild mountains. Crazy treks next to cliffs. Those are the best moments.

But it is nothing compared to what happened to us when we were heading to the Machu Pichu. What perspired there forced us to expand the upper limit of our perceived "danger scale" from 10 to 20 and will no doubt require countless hours of therapy in order to regain our sanity. Forget about sharks and armed robbers, read on for some of the most shocking revelations of our trip.

Seasoned travelers that we are, we decided to avoid the crowded tourist trails and trains leading to Machu Picchu. Our source in the tourist information office assured us it was a smooth and easygoing trip: 6 hours of bus to reach Hydro Electrica and a 2-hour walking trip from there. The first 4 hours of bus were without incidents.  Until suddenly our collectivo was forced to stop as a major mudslide was blocking the road. We made a quick calculation: the road was relatively highly-frequented and we were the second van to be blocked by the mudslide. We estimated we had missed it by no more than 15 minutes. Big tractors came to clear up the road and several hours later our driver attempted a crazy acceleration through the mud that was still flowing down and we were finally on our way again. Little did we know that we had seen nothing yet...

This time we were the fourth van in the row. Not sure what was going on, we descended to take a look around the corner. To our horror we were greeted by a major rock avalanche. Flows of rocks came tumbling down and covered the road. Locals were taking pictures as if they had never seen anything like it. We suddenly found ourselves in somewhat of a crisis situation: no vehicles could pass, the way back was still blocked by a mudslide and we were running out of time if we wanted to be able to visit Machu Picchu the next day at our assigned hour, early in the morning. Our bus driver explained it quite simply to us: our only option was to run through the rock avalanche and carry on by foot.

We would like to point out to our parents that we would never consider such a reckless stunt unless we felt like we had no other option. That being said, it took us a while to summon the guts to run. Also, since the lonely planet doesn't seem to offer any advice in this type of situation we put together a small how-to in case any of our readers ever find themselves in the same situation, God forbid.

If you did it right, it should look something like this:

Avalanche runner in action.

Thinking that we had passed the worst was our next mistake. For the sake of brevity let us summarize: 1. we passed two more rock avalanches, 2. the taxi we found afterwards couldn't pass the bridge in the valley because the water level had risen above it, 3. we found a pedestrian bridge further up, 4. however we were still forced to wade through a part of the river because it had more than breached its benches, 5. we had to walk for two hours in the dark over train tracks as it was considered safer than the mountain pass. The locals who told us that no more trains were driving at that hour were proved wrong but thankfully we heard it approach behind us on time. If some of you are having trouble visualizing this crazy day, we made a small reconstruction in the video below of some of the more impressive events.

All the emotion would almost make us forget to mention the amazing Machu Picchu site we visited early the next morning. Amazing views, Inca ruins in impeccable condition, impressive pre-Colonial engineering and some nice hiking up Huaynapicchu and the adjoining mountain. We won't bore you any longer, enjoy the pictures!

At such great heights

Having extensively enjoyed exotic beaches and temperatures in the past months, it was about time for a new challenge: the Peruvian mountains and highlands. The low temperatures at night and the early mornings imposed a significant wardrobe change but luckily the sun often followed us to our desolate locations.

In Huaraz, situated at about 3km altitude and surrounded by the Cordillera Blanca y Negra, we made a one-day mountainbike trip to acclimatize to the lack of oxygen. Deciding we were ready, the next day we left on a four day trek leading us to stunning views up to 4800m and amazing high-altitude lakes. One of the mountains we passed, Artesonraju, is rumored to be the inspiration for the Paramount pictures movie starting sequence. Oddly, the following stunning photographs still fall short of describing the whole experience...

In an attempt to spread the fame of Belgian travelers worldwide and in order to push the limits of what might be accepted as sane behavior, Dimitri decided to change into his bathing suit and jumped into an ice-cold lake at 4450 meters. It cannot be proven whether it was a coincidence or whether it were the screams of this self-inflicted torture that caused the sudden stream of avalanches on a nearby mountain-top, however we are certain that the story of the agonizing 60 seconds and the crazy Belgian who endured them will be told among travelers for generations to come.

Insane Belgian

South of Lima, close to Arequipa, awaited our next challenge, the deepest canyon in the world: the Colca Canyon. On our first day, we were somewhat worried about the views: we descended the canyon being completely surrounded by white clouds limiting our view...

Artist rendition of the view during the descent

Our worries soon were replaced by wondrous joy when we entered a local village, Cosninhua which happened to host their annual traditional feast. As we entered the village, as if on queue, the local band initiated the melody which would last throughout the afternoon and night. A non-stop train of dancers, males and females in traditional dresses, enticed us to join them on their quest of honoring Maria and asking her to bless the village.

This amazing experience came with a vengeance though: hangover or not, the next day we had to climb from the depths of the canyons to the very top. As we kept looking up to the top, it never seemed to come any closer. The effort was absolutely worth it though as we consider the trek, more in particular the traditional feast to be a highlight of our trip, never to be forgotten.

Graham