Palegoldenrod

(Please prepare yourself once again for a flurry of posts in an effort to catch up on the last month of my travels).

Puerto Iguazu is a town in Northeastern Argentina – the Argentine town at Iguazu Falls. After farewelling the guys in BA I jumped on a Crucero del Norte bus (cama, of course) for a 17 hour overnight solo busride and a chance to catch up on some sleep.

I didn’t realise that the bus was so cold until I stepped off and into humid 35 degree heat and full midday sun. Looking around, I was already starting to appreciate the town – green, quiet, wide streets with parks and cafes and not much else. After a week of party in BA, the town was looking perfect.

I had selected a random hostel from hostelworld – Puerto Canoas – because it was in town and it wasn’t the HI hostel. I wanted quiet, not more parties… and anyway, the HI Hostel was out of town. I took a taxi to the hostel which turned out to be a whole 3 blocks away (I didn’t care, I was tired and hot). The owners there spoke no English, I realised immediately – as I walked in the door another Australian guest was trying and failing to ask (in English) how he could wash his clothes. Excellent I thought, more opportunity to practice after having travelled with English speakers for a few weeks

After dumping my gear I decided to go for a walk through the town and then along the river. As usual I was unprepared. I had not researched Iguazu much, except how to get to the falls themselves. While walking along the riverbank I discovered that there is a place there where two huge rivers converge. From the top of the hill there you can see the two other points of land – Brazil and Paraguay, each with an obelisk and their national colours. The convergence of 3 nations. Very cool to see.

I walked back and spent the rest of the afternoon in a hammock at the hostel, soaking it all in. The courtyard with strange and unusual plants overflowing the garden borders, the humidity; the terracota tiles on the ground and the brightly painted walls; the blue sky; the sound of the birds and the breeze in the trees. After dark, the sound of heavy rain on the tin roof. It was wonderful.

The next day I jumped on an early bus to the falls themselves, to arrive shortly after the park had opened. I decided to go by myself rather than with a tour – it was cheaper, I could stay as long as I wanted and move at my own pace. I’m glad I did it that way.

I really wish I could upload my photos for you right now, because I don’t think that anything can explain the falls except the photos. Actually, not even then. You really need to be there, to see the whole thing… to turn around 360 and see the sheer size of it all and feel like you are (in the words of Kimya Dawson) “a speck of dust inside a giant’s eye”. Especially at one place where there is a boardwalk that takes you right up to a wall of water from a huge fall. Standing there with that vast amount of water falling from such a great height behind you – when you turn to face it there is nothing but a wall of water filling your vision… the deep rumbling blocking out everything else and the water spray, cold and fresh, drenching your clothes through. It is definitely an experience.

There is an island there too which looked really cool and is accessible only by boat, but because the river was up so high no one could go across that day (d’oh).

I walked around the falls (the Argentine side only) for the whole day and finally went back to the town for a coffee. I then booked my ticket to Salta and then spent another relaxing evening at the hostel.

I wish I could easily write in mathematical notation on this blog. I’d write a formula for my contactability inversely proportional to my immersion in Bolivia. I’d write a formula defining the limit of z (where z is my Spanish speaking ability) as x approaches infinity (where x is the time I have spent travelling with non-spanish speakers or perhaps more accurately, native English speakers – damn you Pommies) and factoring in y which would either be the number of non-spanish speakers I have spent time with, or some measurement of my laziness. I would attempt to write a mathematical explanation for my desire to be incredibly nerdy right now…. unquantifiable maybe

Anyway, here is a bunch of news / info which will hopefully tide over those who have bombarded my delicate little inbox with (initially) polite enquiries after my health and whereabouts, but finally degenerating into name-calling, bribery and down-right skullduggery in a vain attempt to get me to communicate. My lack of communication, I assure you, is not deliberate. It has been thrust apon me, unwanted though not entirely unexpected. It is South America. (Funny though that even Branxton has better connection than Cochabamba, lol).

• I am in Cochabamba, Bolivia
• I am fine. Cochabamba is quiet, safe, and appears to be likely to stay that way. If it looks like it won’t, I’ll leave for Peru via La Paz (which is the opposite direction to most of the trouble, if you don’t know yet).
• I am staying with Cristhian / Figu and his family while I am hunting for an apartment here to stay for a few months. I think we have found a nice one.
• I am having extreme internet problems which prevent me from doing almost anything except responding to emails. I am in an internet cafe now just so I can write this for you all.
• If you want me to be able to respond, for now you can contact me via: my contact form on this site; skype; direct email; or my Bolivian mobile phone. (The latter is on my facebook profile)
• Yes, I am still playing the Mandolin.
• Yes, my cough has finally disappeared and I am able to once again speak without sounding like an 80 year old
• Yes, I have a pile of photos to upload and I am not sure when or how I will be able to do it. Hopefully when I have internet connection at my apartment. Fingers crossed…
• No, fortunately I have yet to fall ill due to food or water, but I have been affected by altitude (a story for a better blog post about my travels, when next I have time). Luckily Cochabamba is much lower and I can actually breathe / move / function properly here.

OK, time for me to go… I love you all. Please let me know what is going on with your travels or back at home, I do miss my stories!

Hugs!

Carly

More junk from the mind of a travel-maddened, exhausted, over-partied, distant chica wandering lost and in a daze through South America. I think I have hit a point where my thinking is becoming seriously affected by this experience and has yet to settle down. Its an odd experience.

Anyway, as usual, an apology and a reminder that this really isn’t here for you. Its here because I can. hugs to all my homies in da big hizzouse of da world

He called out over the noise
“hold on to each other!”
afraid we would lose each other in the press of people.
I was afraid
I would lose myself

“HOLD ON to each other”, I thought.
Profound.
I, who had never really held on to anyone
There, with strangers
Wanting to hold on
to HOLD ON!

“Who are strangers,” I thought
“but friends we haven’t yet met.”
An old saying that made me smile.
One I usually scoff at -
I hate that shite.
But not that night.

I held on
With every part of me.
I asked them to carry me gently to the places where the poets are
so I could stroll once more with Clare and Cohen and Shelley
like I used to when I was young
when things felt more real

I almost found it again
that place where I could see and taste and touch and smell
and love
where I could breathe and know I was alive

Then the crowd was gone
and the stranger-friends dispersed
scattered in the four directions
and I’m on the road again
a long bus ride with time to ponder
the nature of love and friendship

23 hours of uninterrupted road
to hold on to

A full week in Buenos Aires, especially in the Milhouse Hostel, may be enough to kill some people. It is quite possible to inadvertently party yourself to death in that place. I think I came close.

Brad and I arrived at about 10am after an interesting taxi ride from the bus station where I took the opportunity to practice my spanish and essentially unravel the taxista’s life story as well as grab some tips for nightlife in BA. We couldn’t check in until 1 so we sat internetting in the foyer for a few hours where I got talking to Jay (England).

I quickly determined that Jay was indeed not a freak (remembering a certain crazy Isreali at another hostel) but instead quite cool, if a bit too witty for his own good. After meeting up with Brad’s sister Aline and her friend Sharni, we all agreed to head out that night. We hit the Bahrein for some drum and bass and while the night was still quiet at 2am by 3 it had picked up and we let Brad loose on the dancefloor with us where the statue made its famous appearance once again. A good time was had by all.

Over the next few days and nights we explored Palermo, La Boca, the centre and Recoleta, some restaurants, the movies, as well as checking out a hip-hop / reggaeton club called Lost with some more of Aline’s friends. After Lost, Jay, Brad and I wandered over to club 69 for “electronic music and a tranny show” which instead turned out be a sex show and the first time I have seen a completely naked woman on stage. It was an interesting night. Also Carly’s lesson #1: do not accept a smoke from a cute Argentinian. Especially not in a club like that. But never fear, no harm befell me. My boys (ever my heroic protectors) and I made it home safely even if we were generally a bit disappointed with the evening.

Brad, Aline and Sharni left us towards the end of the week and Jay met two new incredibly cool people: Zac (Australia) and Charlie (England). On my last Saturday night Jay, Zac, Charlie and I booked a trip to the Pacha Club via the hostel (a bus straight to the club, access to the VIP room etc) and off we went. Best night ever in South America so far, hands down, hard to beat. Do it. There was an English DJ playing (sorry guys, I can’t remember who, but the boys were excited to hear about it) the music was good, the company was great, the vibe was unbelievable – there were a few thousand people on the main dance floor. All round awesome. Never did find the VIP room though, haha.

We were there until close at 7am and eventually managed to find a taxi back home where we had some breakfast. Some of us decided to catch a few hours sleep while others wanted to push through to the afternoon when we had a soccer trip planned. We again booked with the hostel because we were lazy (it is much more expensive than buying the ticket directly from the stadium – the only convenience is the bus… don’t buy through the hostel unless you are as lazy as us).

The football game was a disappointment, and no it wasn’t just because we were feeling seedy. The talent (or lack thereof) was, as Charlie declared, “meh”, but the crowd was loud and passionate and singing a lot, and the day was nice so that was OK.

My last few days included eating the best steak ever which was stuffed with cheese, ham, sundried tomato and god knows what else, and which practically climbed into my mouth to be enjoyed. When I remember the name of the place I will let you know, but it is in Palermo. I also spent some time at the Ecological Reserve with Jay, and wandering some more through the city to see the Cathedral near Plaza de Mayo and some shops.

Finally I sadly had to say goodbye to my new friends in BA and jump on my bus for Puerto Iguazu. I really wanted to hang around a bit longer with Charlie, Zac and Jay – three of the coolest people I have met on the road, and who I dearly hope I will see again. I really had the best time with you guys, especially Jay who I was lucky enough to spend a whole week with (thats a record on my travels). Much love to you all on your travels and take care.

I don’t really have much to say about my few days in Cordóba – they seem like a dim memory now, though it was only a week ago.

I was lucky enough to (once again) meet cool people in the forms of James, Brad and Vik and of course we went out drinking and dancing. Tequilas made a reappearance with the expected effect – a somewhat tipsy Carly but a good night.

We stayed in Baluch Backpackers Hostel (I’ll review it for you later). It was a nice enough hostel though it was away from the hopping part of town which upon arrival I realised was Nuevo Cordóba and not the centre. The city generally felt sort of dead, despite the fact that we were there on a weekend. The locals at the hostel told us that the after-parties were better than the actual clubbing, but that said after-parties started at 6 or 7 in the morning. WhatEV0R. We went out at 12am and were tired and in bed by 6.30. That was good enough for us

James realised that he liked my mandolin and had some fun with it (he can play it better than I can, though that didn’t surprise me as I think everyone can play it better than I, lol) and Brad and I discovered that not only were we headed to Buenos Aires on the same day, but we planned to stay in the same hostel. We quickly decided to book tickets together on the same bus and spend our last day horse riding.

We went with the hostel’s horseriding tour which turned out to be a 2 hour ride to the place, then 2 hours of horse riding (most of which was on a dirt road to get to the “cool” part) and then a 2 hour bus ride back. The scenery was not as spectacular as I had hoped, but the bus ride itself gave me an opportunity to see some parts near Cordóba that I hadn’t laid eyes on yet – there is some beautiful country out there.

My horse was a bit feisty and insisted on a bit of a pace most of the way, which was a pleasant change from the trudging whore-horses I have been riding since I arrived. Brad was not so lucky and was reduced to plodding along far behind the guide Maxi and I. Suffice to say that Brad and I agreed that this particular horse riding tour did not deserve to be rated.

So went my time in Cordóba… on to Buenos Aires!