Taatoos Of The Malegentales

British

British Aaah! The Medellin cartel drug traffickers and the FARC, its bomb, bomb Shakira, Bogota, Cartagena, coffee ... quite a rich folklore for travel brochures!

I'll give you my personal vision. Since it takes to start somewhere, talking about my "entry" in Colombia. The last city on my way to Ecuador, was San Lorenzo (photo above. We must enlarge by clicking). Descending from the bus, I speak with an Ecuadorian, who said: "You go to the end of this street, there is a pontoon, and lanchas (boats) leaving for Colombia. "

Ok, it seems simple ... Three minutes later, I paid my ticket and I'm at the end of the pontoon with Colombia and Ecuador.

For me, una lancha is a relatively large boat, so I'm surprised a kind of large boat dock that comes ... I cast an eye on luggage, the number of passengers ... and I say it's a bit of adventure compared to the size of the boat!

While loading the bags on board, an obese black clear his displeasure! She finds, too, that the lancha is too small. This proves one hand, I had judged correctly, and secondly it is fully aware of its body volume ...

The "pilot" told me that the crossing takes about 50 minutes, but the big said that normally, the boats are bigger and faster! By dint of living with Latinos, I learned not to ask questions that require accurate answers too ...

It is so loaded that the first acceleration, the passengers in the first half of the boat are copiously watered ! The pilot we spend a huge black tarpaulin, which ultimately serve to everyone, because of the sun.

I'm sitting next to Marta (obese) and his son. She is super nice and explains how to do a little at the finish. Good thing it's not very clear to me ... It is accompanied by two cousins, so that this "small" family alone accounts for almost half of the boat. We sail in the middle of the mangroves under a blazing sun. The banks are very wild, very handsome, but splashing me from doing more pictures.

L’arrivée en Colombie est assez originale. On s’amarre à un ponton perdu en pleine forêt, où une dizaines de jeunes se chamaillent pour porter nos bagages. A quelques mètres de toute cette agitation, des gosses nagent tout nus dans une eau trouble.

Le ponton donne sur un escalier en bois, qui monte à pic sur une vingtaine de mètres, et se termine sur un chemin de terre. Marta me fait signe to follow. The fact that there have no checkpoint does not escape me. She said there was a "further" ...

is loaded an old 4x4 NissanPatrol, and we all piled up, I wedged between the driver and Marta (argh!). To save space inside, all bags were installed on the gallery, and my camera in one of my bags ... So no picture of this part. We are moving in a shining sun, which runs a red dirt road, surrounded by vegetation with a very light green. The beautiful light and color contrasts, give the impression of editing in Photoshop!

20 minutes later, still on the same track, a group of soldiers we signaled us to stop. I expect an identity check, but none of this is the drug of interest! Each bag is down, and meticulously researched. But not us! not infallible, their system ...

Colombia, Peru and Bolivia are the main suppliers of cocaine the globe. Drug traffickers install laboratories farms clueless, and organize convoys by all means: air, river, sea, earthy, and all sorts of "carriers" of the poor who serve as "mules" (they ingested capsules of cocaine and emerge in a natural way ...), large quantities hidden in legal transportation, or simply by travelers. So, the military could not care less that I'm French or Nepal, if I have a passport, or that I'm wanted by Interpol! Only the contents of luggage interest.

is finally back on the road, which 5 minutes later ends before another river arm. It should come down the luggage, take a boat to cross a few minutes down the whole and take a van. All in total precipitation, with carriers who jump on luggage in the hope of a for-drink.

I installed back in the open air, with two cousins. We pass through a village with wooden houses, places much bewildered and poor. Then we take the first paved road, direction: Tumaco!

I think back just supervise met since leaving Ecuador, and I think their real borders are sieves! If I had drugs on me, they would never have seen ...






I look at the time. I boarded in San Lorenzo (Ecuador) to 14.30, and it enters Tumaco to 18h. Many of transport, the scent of adventure, but still no passport validated! And then we is not in the European Community, it does not pass the borders lightly. And as far as I know, no authority knows that I'm British ... I found a hotel, put my things and drove to the police station to explain my situation. The cop told me that I must go to the DAS (Departamento Administrativo de Seguridad). But it is too late, it will be for the next day.

Tumaco is a small tropical city, quiet, the black population to 97%. It's like réellemen T in Black Africa! People are radically different stature of Peruvian small: they are all tall and muscular, and girls especially beautiful. The night has fallen. I eat in a neighborhood, when suddenly "cut! "Blackout! The whole city in darkness. It is in these moments that is truly aware of how cities use too much energy. No, no joke, it does very well like this! Well, the climate is to many, but I have great memories of the atmosphere that night, or all public places to work the candle, creating atmospheres sieved.

I arrive at my hotel, the receptionist gave me a candle and a lighter. In cross-storey passenger, happy smile that illuminated by orange light. To complete this picture, a tropical rain fell on the town!

The region is known to be one of the wettest in the world. It rains all night and when I get up at 7am, it's still raining ...





for reasons quite mysterious, the country is full of old Renault, lost among the modern Japanese and American brands ...

The unusual story of the morning is marked by the following fact: I have to change my last dollar Colombian pesos. Like the day I could not find a casa de cambio (because of the darkness), I asked the receptionist where I can find. He calls me and the porter told me that he will accompany me ! Eh, why it's dangerous? "No, no! "He hastened to answer me! So tell me where the casa! Nothing doing, the guy takes a big umbrella and go up a big shopping street.

The power outage has not yet been fixed and each store operates with a generator, which produces background music throughout the city unbearable. It was the most romantic day! Reached the height of a pharmacy, my "guide" between demand and the dollar to an old white coat. What, the pharmacist is currency exchange?! The rate is correct, I give my dollars to the white coat, which Trampe his fingers into a jar containing a white liquid, and quickly rub the tickets to verify its authenticity. I'd really seen it all ...

Above: In a park, several people have their noses up to the highest branches. Small iguanas roam and eat vegetation.

All this est bien beau, mais je suis toujours un voyageur clandestin en Colombie ! Je prends un taxi et fonce au DAS sous une pluie battante. Quand j’explique ma situation au seul agent présent, celui-ci me dit que le problème, est qu’ils n’ont pas d’électricité (oui j'suis au courant...). De plus, il faut attendre le chef qui est partis prendre un petit déjeuner... Okay ! le moindre magasin de chaussures du centre à un groupe électrogène, mais pas le service des douanes qui préfère se tourner les pouces en regardant la pluie tomber...

L’agent feuillète mon passeport et me fait remarquer qu’il no exit stamp from Ecuador. Say that I liked, must still cross the border! "Wait for the boss! "I repeat there. That is the phrase of the morning ...

Waiting on a large terrace, watching the rain that did not finish. Behind me, a dimly lit room (and for good reason) with 3 offices and computers off ... Not take much to cripple the country!

Twenty minutes Later, the Chief finally arrived! It is a great white without uniform, under a little jaded. I feel it's gonna be tough with him. My smuggling in Colombia do not pose a problem to him, since I came to my case report. But the fact that I got out of Ecuador without validation, is problematic. "You can hear a very high fine! "He said. Slight feeling of déjà vu ...

Moreover, they, as the authority customs, can not bring someone which is not officially released in another country. Yet I am here! In fact, if British stamps my passport and I returned to Ecuador, he sees that I have no "exit" and that the British did not consider. So I risk a fine, but the SAR will be slapped on the wrist!

He asks me questions open, and said that ideally, I would have returned to Ecuador me to validate the output (without being seen by returning So! it is grotesque). I play back my way and told me that it will not be possible ... The leader is absent a few minutes, returned and said: "So what do we do? "I understood from the beginning, a below-the-table would settle the matter, but I am one who does not understand. Moreover, it proves that there is a way out, but he uses the situation. So I play the guy not in a hurry, who did nothing wrong.

Very quiet, I summarized the situation : " Listen, I know that as a traveler, I'm supposed to do the customs formalities, but I did not hide when leaving Ecuador! I went to the end of a street, I took a boat and at no time have I been tested! It is not for me to follow the border in search of a post-control! "This does not really laugh.

I told him I was a journalist, this kind of info is not verified. I did it on purpose, I know that certain nationalities or professions, influence authorities in Latin. And a French journalist, that's good 'leader disorders. Sometimes it is good to have the reputation of French protesters ...

As he did not respond, I read i said that if I did not return to Ecuador, nobody will see anything! And no problem for them or for me! Besides, I do not INTENTIONS return to Ecuador, I continued north. His bribes is far away and he pulls a bit of cum ...

Without saying anything, he phone at a DAS another city (which has access to electricity) to verify my identity on computer ... Ten minutes pass and he hangs up a little tense. I guess that phone, an officer reported that he was "clean" and that he had let me pass. The head stamps my passport limiting myself to 30 days in the territory, and said to me in the eye "Do not go to Ecuador! "He lets me leave without greeting me and I'm outta DAS!

I beloved Tumaco, and if I go, not because of rain, or administrative complications, but because it takes my point!

I take a bus to Cali, a city that lacks the international reputation of Cartagena, Bogota and Medellin, but who is the 3 rd largest city in the country . The road is long, it must then follow the Andes to reach the Panamerican. In Colombia, the Andes were formed in somewhat different from the South. There are 3 large beds, separated by a river, creating differences significant climate relatively short distances.

example, in Bogota, located at 2500 m altitude, the average is 14 degrees, but it can get very cold! Just 60km from here you can find deserts and tropical forests.

In Cali, there is no winter, it is always hot. The city among the first cities in America Latin in terms of miscegenation and black population (also known as Afro-Colombian). As usual, I went everywhere: in markets, streets remote, bus stations, major pedestrian streets, I went out at night and nothing happened to me! Well, I saw some dirty cum, but must recognize that Colombia is not more dangerous than any other neighboring country.

must also confess there are cops on every street! And they are not there for nothing ...

You now understand that to spend some borders is quite complicated, not impossible, because of terrain or vegetation. Although there are tracks, it is mainly the boats or planes that serve as transportation.

In my case, to connect Panama, it is necessary that I travel to Medellin, and Turbo. Then it was like to go adventure from Ecuador to Colombia: boat, bicycle, boat ...

I calculate how long it would take me to this route, and what is the cost hotels + bus + boat. I realize that if I take a plane to Cali, I'll pay about the same thing! And I will put qu'1h30 to arrive in Panama. I have rolled my hump for 2 months, I move like I did from the beginning, but now it seems clear to fly.

The owners of the hotel in Cali are nice. And rather than negotiate a taxi (I could write a special chapter on taxis!) Father and son invite me to take me to the airport for a very reasonable sum.

For the first time in 14 months, I'll fly ... After countless kilometers in buses, trains and boats!

continued: Yugoslavia! No, I'm kidding. Panama, of course! ;)

Funds Of Blood Donetion

The Road to Ecuador


I am at the pier of Iquitos, a massive strike on a gentle slope. board the lancha, I readily binds to know my neighbors hammock. I arrived several hours before departure (unofficial because the captain does what he wants) to get a good spot before the tangle of hammocks.

I am surrounded by "old", which means it's me who installs their hammocks, as even those who accompany them are too small to reach the overhead handrail ...



This fisherman takes a fish every 30 seconds, and is attracting young people.


One of my neighbors, Andres, accompanied by his family, came to say goodbye (the despedida). I spoke with her daughter, Emily. She is 22 years old, she is very pretty, with her restless son of 5 years. In Peru, like Bolivia, the majority of teenage girls are mothers, which provides components worthy of sociological study. Par exemple, une fille qui a eu son enfant à 16 ans, peut être facilement grand-mère à 35 ans ! Et potentielement, plein de grands-parents aux réunions de famille (jusqu’à 12 si je ne m’abuse...)


Quelques heures avant le départ
photo prise au même endroit, mais le lendemain.



Pendant que la lancha se remplie, je discute avec Emily. Elle passe pour une rebelle dans sa famille, car le père de son fils est américain, mais elle l’a largué (ou lui l’a fait, va savoir...) et ça, ça passe mal auprès des parents, pour qui un gringo représente toujours le bon choix ! Elle ressemble à Angelina Joly (version latina). Mieux vaut être belle et rebelle, que moche et remoche :o) Elle insiste plusieurs fois pour que je reste à Iquitos !! Ouais, bien sûr... Les filles de la selva ont plus de fougue que de bon sens (il n’y a qu’à voir le taux de natalité...)

Le soleil vient de se coucher et le capitaine de la lancha décide que finalement, c’est le bon moment pour lever l’ancre. Mon voyage jusqu’à Yurimaguas dure 3 jours. Les vieilles à ma gauche, s’inquiètent en pensant que je vais m’ennuyer. Mais j’adore ce genre de voyage ! J’alterne avec some fun discussions and quiet moments of reading in my hammock, taking a look from time to time on the Amazon rainforest that runs ...

As on previous pictures of villages (the ride Pucallpa / Iquitos) you may notice the large majority of children. Above, the 2 large waving and are now selling a parrot to a moron who does nothing to shake the bug, but wants to make a profit selling it in town ... a Another moron who will buy the same purpose. Or will the bird cage.

We sail on a river other than the go: the Marañon. As the Ucayali, we will make frequent stops in villages, many more on this river.
I meet a little less of people on the trip Pucallpa / Iquitos; probably because there are less than 1 day shipping and a little less crowded. But the discussions are rich! Two people invite me to sleep at home in Yurimaguas, and one invites me to Tarapoto, the next town. We'll have to make choices ...









The three days passed quickly and pleasantly. We arrive at dawn to Yurimaguas, and I decided to "pass" the city by jumping directly into a bus to Tarapoto. I buy my ticket rapidos, but Manuel, who invited me to sleep with him, it is too late (ah those Latinos!) And will have to take the next bus. In an emergency, it leaves me son n° me disant de l’appeler en arrivant, ou de le rejoindre à une adresse qu’il me griffonne sur du papier higiénique...




Nous sommes toujours dans la région tropicale, et la route entre Yurimaguas et Tarapoto grimpe dans la montagne luxuriante.




Arrivé à Tarapoto, Manuel ne répond pas au téléphone. Je prends une moto-taxi en direction de l’université, qui est notre point de rencontre. A l’ombre, adossé à mes bagages j’attends... 1 heure passe. Je tente une dernière time to join but without success.

I decide to leave and at that time, a man me: "You're French? He looks a little hurry, I did not even see it! He had to be dropped. "I have a message for you." He said, looking very serious with his little bag. It's like a bad spy movie ...

short, I understand that Manuel arrived earlier than expected, and he sped home to wait, asking a teacher at the University of spinning the news to me. This is surprising anachronistic, but I usually ...

An old Chevrolet. It's like "The Racers"

indication of teacher was a bit too short, and I find myself lost down a street in ground under a blazing sun. I am seriously thinking to take a hotel, a shower, a meal ... I looked around for a taxi, when suddenly I hear: "Eric! "Right behind me on the terrace of a large house, I see the Manual, all smiles ... The large house in question is actually shared by different tenants. I have 24 hours Tarapoto. Manuel makes me discover the city, his parents, his girlfriend, his neighbors, his favorite retailers ... in a short time I am the most famous French city.

Manual

view terrace

Manual is super friendly, but you really my point! I want to be in Panama late January, and if I accept all the invitations, I can not do. For those with whom I could talk on Skype, I must say that I set myself a goal: I want to go to Panama, a place of convergence of all boats, and embark on a sailing ship set sail for the Pacific Islands ... the boat-stop, in fact!

anticyclonic season, between January and May, is recommended for this great journey. After it is harder to find a sailboat, longer, more dangerous. So I come over early in Panama, the better.

Look what carry the kids ...

Chance encounters is something fascinating! At Tumbes, the last major town before Peru Ecuador, I recognize a French teenager who takes the same bus as me. It was in Iquitos, but not anywhere! At the same festival as me, December 31, at Roy! It is accompanied by a French couple, who themselves were not at that party. We did a little knowledge.

When we arrived in Ecuador, I will help to retrieve a bag that the porters refused to give him ... well, we must clarify that the French had lost his ticket, said the luggage ... Briefly, I digress!

On the map below, you can see sidebar, almost every city where I went (and stayed at least overnight). Cities framed in red, match my route to Iquitos, Ecuador.

On leaving Peru, I get stuck at the border post by an agent who told me that I exceeded the time allowed in Peru. It's a bit long to explain, but basically, the law changed on 1st January and I am subject to a fine. The agent wants me to go to town on a motorcycle taxi, to pay this tax to the Banco de la Nación "and come back so he could stamp the passport. The driver of my bus, he does not want to wait that long! (We started with 45 min late and now it is pressed).

A wholesale uniform is useless (except for that moment!) Beckons me. He is so relaxed it does not seem to be part of the movie we ... He told me that there is a way to fix this. I see it coming ...
I've never been confronted with this kind of problem, but I'm in Latin America long enough to know that corruption is rife. A $ 20 bill given to the customs chief, removed the formalities and you can leave ...

Why did I dollars on me? Just because it is the new currency of Ecuador since 2000! Before that date, the country had sugar as currency, which has nothing to do with 'sugar' in French, which says "azucar" in English. This name was given in honor of Antonio José de Sucre, who had distinguished himself in several battles in Peru.

dolarisation This has provoked in 2000, violent protests, which culminated in the overthrow of President! But without restore Sucre (currency, you follow?). Even if the cost of living is lower than in the U.S., the transition to the dollar is felt. We can say that the disappearance of sugar has made adding more salt ... A bit like France and the euro (but then, I do not teach you anything).

So Ecuador rolls green dollar, and it is quite difficult for me to pay all , 2 times more expensive than in Peru!

During my stay in Ecuador, I would have seen the sky with clouds. It is certainly hot, but when it rains, the rain curtain ... If it's a little frustrating for me is happiness for the banana. It's everywhere along the roads, out of sight!

The country is the first world exporter of bananas, and throughout the American continent, that the label "Ecuador", which is still stuck on the fruit.


I finally saw a UFO! I expect the expertise of UFO

Turning from Bolivia to Peru, there was no difference in the appearance population. Although crossbreeding has existed since the arrival of the conquistadors, Bolivians and Peruvians were "preserved" genetic heritage of the Incas: little, big head, lots of hair and skin color very recognizable (especially at altitude).

ago shades of course! For example, in big cities or in the Peruvian Amazon, where the human comes origne Indians of the great forest, so different morphology. In Ecuador, people are physically different from Peru. Some blacks, whites and skins more reminiscent of the Creole Caribbean.

I arrived in Guayaquil at night around 20h (map above). I negotiate my taxi (in dollars so ...) and asked him to drop me off in town, in an area where I can choose a hotel. I ended up finding a room at a reasonable price and I go to bed soon. The next morning he I sometimes something very stupid:

Wasting no time, out of bed, I decided to go buy my bus ticket for Esmeraldas, my next destination. I leave the hotel and take a taxi a bit further. Installed at the back, I watch the streets, people ... when suddenly I realize I do not know the name of my hotel, or address!

Usually I spot, but my arrival the previous day, tired, and my hasty departure this morning, made me forget to write anything! I asked the driver what's his name the street where I went, but he does not know the guy! Immediately, I look at the name of the avenue where we are: Raphael Ximena. OK, that's my only reference ...

Fortunately I speak English because for the return, when I have to explain to the taxi I go into the avenue Raphael Ximena, he said, "Okay, but what cuadra? Avenue is super long! "I try to remember some details, and I ended up giving a pseudo management. Arrived in the famous avenue, I get off the taxi and the treasure hunt begin!

The capital is Quito the country, but the largest city is Guayaquil, and its port is one of the largest in South America! You know what I mean ...

The city is large, modern, urban architecture more American and European or Australian. Having arrived at night, it complicates the matter, everything looks the same. The streets are clean, there are quite a few well-dressed pedestrians, some in suits and ties. A cosmopolitan blend.

I'm looking for 10 minutes, trying to find my way, but without success. I decide to walk at random from the street Ximena, and the miracle work! 5 minutes later I find myself in front of my hotel, a place I would not imagine ...

The same day I left Guayaquil for Esmeralda in the north. I really liked take longer, but making a point, it seems obvious that we must speed up my pace a nomad. It's a shame, Ecuador offers contrasts of giants! I learn by example that there are two volcanoes, which are among the highest in the southern hemisphere: the Chimborazo 6,310 m, and the Nevado Ojos del Salado at 6,891 m! Cotopaxi, is not a drug, but the highest active volcano in the world (5897 m).

All that to say that there are no bananas to see ...

Click on the map. Esmeralda is north on the coast.

I arrived in Esmeraldas with 4 hours late! were first rolled slowly along the contours of the coast, stopping at any guy who raises his arm, even if it just wipes his forehead ... then took the bus to the inland, borrowing chaotic tracks. And of course it rained!

It is 23 pm and I'm so exhausted, I spent a night in a cheap hotel and save myself the next morning for San Lorenzo, near the Colombian border.
And that is where the adventure begins!

Soon: you discover how I was smuggled into Colombia, and how I failed to return to Ecuador ... But more importantly, why should I avoid to go back! : O)