A Jolly Good Trip

As I am sitting in our estancia’s lounge, I am listening to breaking news on the BBC – gunmen opening fire in several areas of Mumbai (Bombay) India, killing at least 78 people, with ongoing gunfire and explosions. Also, a hostage taking situation at the Taj Mahal Hotel (where I used to go for the all-you-can-eat American breakfasts when I was there in ’90). Moments earlier, the situation in Bangkok was broadcast, with news that the airport was closed and a travel advisory was put into place. This will undoubtedly be affecting many travellers in southeast Asia.

I must admit Fred and I are in a lot less of a predicament – we have just left the beautiful pool we have been enjoying all by ourselves for the past couple of days, and have had to head into the main lodge as the sky has darkened, the winds have become fierce, the power has gone off a few times (hence, I am on battery in case it zaps my laptop) and the rains have started. The owner has just told us a small tornado touched down ½ hour away, heading in our direction. I guess it’s not a surprise since we have been in 35 degree C heat the past few days and they haven’t had rain here for a long time.

To back up just a bit, from the town of Colonia, we headed north enjoying the scenic route along the river. It wasn’t long before we realized that our rental car had NO air conditioning. We took it for granted that all new cars automatically came with air-con. We momentarily forgot, I guess, that we are in South America. Despite the unbearable heat inside the car, with windows opened all the way, we continued forward. After four and a half hours, we came upon a sign “Estancia Touristica” along the side of the highway. We headed down the gravel road for 5 km before arriving at Estancia La Paz. (“estancia” is the spanish word for farm).

The tree-lined entrance way opened up into beautiful, colonial era buildings surrounded by fields of charolais cattle and criollo horses. We kept our fingers crossed that they had room for us and were relieved to meet the owner/manager, Anne Wyaux. We were given a tour of the property and a very comfortable, private room (with bath and breakfast for $88/night). There is an old water well with the incscription 1883 on it across from the entrance to our room.

Inside the communal lounge area of the lodge (complete with satellite tv, fireplace, playing cards, etc), a coffee table book of Estancias in Uruguay caught my attention. The following article is taken directly from “Antiguas Estancias del Uruguay” Edicion Javier Irureta Goyena Gomensoro, 1996, about the property in which we were staying:

“The English immigrant Richard Bannister Hughes founded in 1856 the farm La Paz, where he found the ideal environment to develop his rural activity. His business instinct led him to take advantage of the depression that affected the countryside. After the Great Civil War (1839 – 1851) the number of bovines in the country had greatly diminished. Several landowners had to sell their estate, thus causing more than a 50% slump in the price of the land. Hughes bought the fields of La Paz, considered to be among the best in the department of Paysandu. In these fields grazed the first Durham animals that were brought to Uruguay from England by the Hughes brothers to be further crossed with the existing cattle in the country.

This sophisticated farm employs 24 people and is complemented with agrotourism, which combines the use of natural resources with the beauty and history of the place.” End of article.

Apart from one couple who came late the first evening and left early the next morning, Fred and I had the property to ourselves. We enjoyed the refreshing swimming pool, games of tennis (Fred beat me 5 – 2), and delicious, gourmet meals (pricey at $15/meal, each). Our wine of choice was Don Pascual’s Tannat 2007 from the Juanico Region of Uruguay. Other services available that we didn’t use included a hot tub, sauna, workout room, and massage. We also enjoyed a scenic ride through their grass fields, cattle pastures, and along the pine bush amongst the roaming charolais cattle. Alongside the road, we saw a dead armadillo which are common in the area, but usually come out at night. We also saw many interesting birds at the estancia, including hummingbirds, larakeets, green parrots, scissor-tail birds, egrets, and red-headed cardinals.

The land here is predominantly flat with some rolling hills. The fields of wheat are ripe and are being combined with the latest of equipment. While we were at the pool yesterday, there was a flurry of activity as all the farm employees jumped on tractors with water tanks hooked up behind them to put out a fire on the adjoining farmer’s property, only about a half a mile away. We also saw the flashing red lights of a small fire truck which also responded to the scene. Apparently, the cause of fire was a spark from a piece of machinery, however, it wouldn’t surprise me if it was from a farmer’s cigarette. It seems everyone smokes here, and we even saw our horse guide throw down his cigarette butt when he was through (it did look like he smoked it right to the tip though so may have extinguished itself out – but still . . . ) In the surrounding eucalyptus forests, there are signs indicating the danger levels for fire, which when we past, were pointing to the highest level.

One morning, we noticed the tail of an iguana on the lawn by the tennis court. Apparently, when iguanas feel threatened, they “drop” their tail so their prey goes after their tail and not them. This 18 inch piece of meat was later seen being eaten by another iguana later that afternoon (see above photos).

After three peaceful, relaxing days, Fred and I have decided to move on. I have read about an authentic gaucho ranch 30 km outside of Tacuarembo in northern Uruguay where we hope to experience the real gaucho life. We figure it will take us another 5 hot hours in the car, but we hope it will be worth it 🙂

Lisa n Fred

Uruguay is now country #6 on our travels and we spent our first night in the historical district of Colonia Del Sacramento. We had our accommodation already booked at Hostel Viajero ($40 for a private room, with bath and satellite tv) and had no problem following the signs as we carried our backpacks from the ferry terminal. We were pleasantly surprised with the 31 degree C heat and sunny skies after visiting the patagonia area with its cooler temperatures and high winds.

Uruguay is the size of North Dakota and has a population of @ 3.5 million, and 80% are descendents of European immigrants. Approximately 90% of its citizens reside in urban areas, which are located mostly along the Rio Uruguay or the Atlantic Coast. For those of you who remember the 1993 film, Alive, about a team of young rugby players who in 1972, survived an air crash and over two months of subzero temperatures in the Andes mountains, they were from Uruguay.

Since Fred and I had read an article in the Globe and Mail Travel section a couple of years ago about the beaches in Uruguay, specifically Punta Del Diablo, we set off the next morning in seek of sun, sand, and surf.

Our first 2.5 hour bus ride took us to the capital city, Montevideo (population @ 1.3 million), where we purchased another ticket for a 4.5 hour bus ride to Punta Del Diablo (in English, “Devil’s Point). Most tourists head to the much closer, Punta Del Este, but after seeing postcards of the city on the beach with skyscrapers, luxury hotels and restaurants, etc., we opted for the fishing village with a population of 700.

On arrival, we followed several hand-crafted, wooden signs to Hostel del Diablo Tranquilo. Since it was now 6 p.m., and quite a hike along the sandy roads, we were relieved when manager “Heidi from Minnesota” had a private “suite” room with bath and fireplace (for $60). It had a spectacular view and balcony overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. This is THE hostel to stay at in Punta del Diablo and it seems like they control the market. Even though it was not high season (Dec – March), all 53 beds were occupied. Their services included wi-fi, 4 computers with internet for the guests to use free of charge, free breakfast, book exchange, games, surf boards, communal fireplace and hammocks. The young owner, Brian, from the U.S., invested half a million into the hostel, as well as a 3-story restaurant with an extensive deck right on the beach. Even the restaurant was full after 9 p.m at night. The selection of wines were limited to those bearing a label from Uruguay but we did enjoy a bottle of 60% Merlot and 40% Tannat.

Our finest meals, however, were enjoyed at Ernesto’s (El Viejo y la Mer), or, The Old Man and the Sea. A very quaint, authentic restaurant serving excellent seafood, chicken, and steak, with a very limited, but good, selection of wines. We settled on a bottle of Merlot from Argentina ($15 because it is “imported”). Even this restaurant was filled to capacity after 9 p.m. (all 6 or 7 tables).

We spent 5 days/4 nights in Diablo. Unfortunately, the hostel was booked the last night so we had to repack and find another accommodation. Luckily, we found another guest house, right on the beach, for $60 including breakfast (La Posada). Our second story view was spectacular, however, the fierce Atlantic winds would not allow us to fully enjoy the balcony. We did meet an American guy, from Alaska, who rented a cabin for just over $10/night, complete with bathroom and kitchen. There are Se Aquila signs (For Rent) on most places in Diablo, but unless you go around knocking on doors and are able to speak Spanish, they are not so easy to rent.

Our stay in Diablo was cut short by the weather. Although it was sunny each day, the wind got progressively worse, to the point that after 5 p.m., I was wearing my winter coat. Apparently, this is what the Atlantic coast is like in the springtime for the most part (similar to the weather we had in Puerto Madryn/Peninsula Valdes). We had a couple of two hour walks along the beach in each direction, as well as a terrific 4 hour horseback ride to Santa Teresa National Park (controlled by the army). Although our guide spoke very limited English, he took us through some spectacular sceneryi ncluding sand dunes, eucalyptus forests, botanical gardens and a colonial-built greenhouse with flora growing from around the world, as well as a lagoon area teeming with bird life.

On the way back from the park, we trotted along the beach and stopped to see one of the several washed up penguins. Apparently, they get caught in a bad current, we were told, and that’s what kills them. In September and October you are able to see whales along this beach, but they have moved south towards Patagonia.

Our 4 hour ride ($35 each) was definitely our highlight at Punta del Diablo. The horses are the local “Criollo” breed which he explained first came from Spain (a mixture of Andalusian and Arab). Mine was a 12 year old grey/white pinto with a fresh vampire bite on his hip from the night before, and Fred’s was an 8 year old buckskin. When I asked the guide what the horses’ names were, he said they didn’t have any (reminding me of Neil Young’s song, “A Horse With No Name”).

“On the first part of the journey
I was looking at all the life
There were plants and birds and rocks and things
There was sand and hills and rings
The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz
And the sky with no clouds
The heat was hot and the ground was dry
But the air was full of sound

I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name
It felt good to be out of the rain
In the desert you can remember your name
‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain
La, la … “
Even though it is springtime, they had not had any rain in 10 days.

Had we been fortunate to have hot weather and calm seas (like it is supposedly December – March), we would have then visited the very remote village of “Cabo Polonia” – a half hour or so west of Punta Del Diablo. In season, there are sea lions on shore and the village has no electricity – just candles and generators between specific hours. Similar to Diablo, there is a hostel (although not of the same calibre), cabins to rent, and a sprinkling of local restaurants. However, Fred and I wanted to return to the warmth and decided to return for a night in Colonia, then rent a car and venture off in search of tourist ranches called Estancias.

We spent another day travelling by bus the 7 hours back to Colonia and finally arrived at 7 p.m. Since we had only decided the day before to head back to Colonia, we did not have any accommodation pre-booked. Arriving on a Saturday in this tourist town met with challenges. I stayed with the luggage at an outdoor cafe (enjoying a 1L bottle of Pilsen), while Fred walked all around the historical district with map in hand. About ¾ of an hour later, and asking 30 – 40 hostels, hotels, and inns, Fred was only able to come up with Hotel Royal, just down the street, at a whopping $90 (we had to pay the triple rate, even though there was just two of us, because the room had 3 beds). Given it was the last available room in the town, we took it for the night. This “3 Star” Hotel was the worst accommodation we had to date. The room smell of cigarette smoke and looked like it hadn’t been remodelled in 30 years.
Deciding to spend another night in Colonia, we immediately went out and booked a nicer accommodation at El Viajero Suites ($65 with bath and tv). A big step up from the Royal, with wi-fi. We booked an economy car from Thrifty first thing in the morning, and since we had booked it for 5 days, they gave us a 6th free (worked out to be $37/day). It was a brand new compact car with only 200 km on it. We drove to the beach area (on the River de la Plata) and we were surprised how far out you could walk and still only be knee deep in the brown coloured (but apparently clean) water. We enjoyed a Heinekein at a riverside bar and headed back at sunset to go for dinner.

In Fred’s and my opinion, Colonia Del Sacramento is the nicest city/small city (@ 21, 714) we have been in so far (in South America) – and rightfully so, a protected by UNESCO . Moreso than Buenos Aires, Cusco, Mendoza, and Copacabana (Bolivia). We love its wide, mature tree-lined, cobblestone streets, parks and gardens, and slow pace of life. There are very few vehicles driving around the historical district but do include tourists driving around in rented golf carts, dune buggies, and motor scooters. They obviously do not have helmet laws, nor age limit requirements on motor scooters (we saw a boy about 12 driving down the road on a motor scooter). Plus, it is common to rent bicycles since the area is relatively flat and the roads are very good, with a long, wide boardwalk along the river. It feels a lot more European (well, it was founded originally by the Spanish and Portuguese) and you feel safe walking along the streets at night. There are lots and lots of quality restaurants, reasonably priced (@ $30-40 with a bottle of wine), with outdoor seating by candlelight, at night.

*** news report from BBC *** a young person in Latin American is 30 more times likely to be murdered than in Europe. (Fred is watching BBC while I am writing this blog). According to our Rough Guide, along with our own experiences, Uruguayans are among Latin America’s friendliest peoples.

Monday morning we headed off early (well, 8:45) to go riding ($20 each for 2 hours). We had a very good ride on, once again, horses with no names (just named by their colour). Our guide didn’t speak any English, so we just took in all the sights. Half of our ride was spent riding through the wealthy residential area (always an advantage being on horseback to look over their flowering shrub fences and into their gardens) and the other half was spent riding on the beach alongside the river. It was really neat riding beside the racetrack and watching the jockeys training their horses (quality looking quarter horses! a.k.a. “quarta de milla”).

After our ride, it was back to the room to shower, pack up, and move on. Destination(s) unknown. Stay tuned!

Lisa n Fred

From Mendoza, we travelled by bus 13 hours to Buenos Aires (6:15 p.m. – 7:30 a.m.). It was actually quite comfortable, with seats that reclined completely horizontal which allowed for a decent night’s sleep. We were also able to watch a couple of action flicks which helped pass the time until midnight.

On arrival at the busy Retiro bus station in Buenos Aires, we took a taxi to a suggested bed and breakfast in the Rough Guide Travel Book, in the district of Palermo. Unfortunately, when we finally arrived after a 25 minute taxi ride ($8), there was a sold sign on the building. Obviously, our 2005 edition is outdated. We carried our luggage around and tried several hostels/hotels before finding a vacant room at a hostel ($35 without private bath) which ended up being a dump, so we moved the next morning to Borjes Design Hostel ($50 with private bath) which was excellent. Clean, friendly staff, large rooms, with large windows overlooking Paraguay Street.

With map in hand, we started navigating the streets towards the Polo Park in hopes of being able to watch a polo match. Unfortunately, there was no action on the field so we continued exploring the city. A third of Argentina’s population reside in Buenos Aires (13 million) so it is quite expansive with wide boulevards and tree-lined streets and several boroughs.

Over the next few days, we toured the Eva Peron Museum, saw her burial site at the Retiro Cemetery, checked out the shops on busy Florida Street, shopped at a couple of markets, and walked around the Palermo district. We had a great steak dinner at a very popular, local restaurant called Don Juan’s (4699 Guatemala Street) so we went back a second time. Since the weather was warm, we were able to enjoy our meals, sitting outside on the quiet street. We decided we’d take in a tango show on our last couple of nights in Buenos Aires in a couple of weeks. After 4 days of walking around, I treated myself to a pedicure ($10 for the hour) and got my hair done (highlights and bangs cut, and a trim for Fred, for only $30) and he did an amazing job. Fred said that was the first time he had his hair cut with a straight razor!

Our highlight of Buenos Aires was attending a futbol (soccer) match between River Plate and Huracan at Monumental Stadium. The local home team was River Plate (Petrobras) and they quickly went down 1- 0 within the first 5 minutes of the game. This did not put a damper on the fans’ spirit as they continued to sing, chant, and cheer. Two more goals were scored against River in the first half, leaving the home team down 3-0 at half time. Half-time was very uneventful, with 6 girls in red outfits and matching red umbrellas standing poised in the centre of the field – motionless. River came out very aggressive in the second half, and unbelievably, tied the game with three straight goals. Very exciting.

It was interesting to note that all the fans from the opposing team sat in one section at one end of the stadium with a police line down both sides. They were all contained within the one area, and once the game was over, those fans left first with a police escort. The home team fans had to remain in the stadium for approximately 20 -25 minutes with a line of 10 police officers blocking each exit of the stadium. In total, there must have been at least 100 police officers present – a riot squad, canine units, and uniformed officers. Fortunately, there were no incidents at this match, but I can imagine what a major international match would be like.

The day before we were to head south to Puerto Madryn, Fred and I decided to lighten our loads and mail a package back to Canada. Since it was being sent internationally, we had to mail it through the customs’ office which was at the far end of the city. Given the distance, we decided to save @$12/taxi ride, and take the subway, or Subtle, as it is called here.

*** See Fred’s previous blog, “Pickpockets on the Buenos Aires Subway” for our one and only experience riding on a South American subway.

After we located the correct building with the aid of a helpful man who spoke some English, mailing the package was quite easy (7.8 kg cost us just over $100). It was supposed to arrive within 10 – 12 days but that remains to be seen.

*** Just got an email from Mom – the package arrived intact (with just a chip off my hand painted Eva Peron wooden box I purchased to hold my playing cards). What a relief!

Buenos Aires to Puerto Madryn

Fred and I decided to leave the big city and head south to Puerto Madryn, in the upper Patagonian region of Argentina. We purchased another sleeper bus for the 18.5 hour overnight trip. Once again, we watched a couple of action flicks in English (with Spanish subtitles). The drive was unbelievably flat and for hours after leaving B.A., the grasslands were pasture fields dotted with horses and cattle. The terrain when entering the patagonian region changed to scrub bushes (called steppe) and we saw a few sheep ranches, small towns/villages, but nothing more.

We arrived around 2:30 p.m and had pre-booked our accommodation at Hostel Viajeros (private room, bath, wi-fi, and satellite tv for $60) since we were discovering it was difficult to expect a private room with bath at hostels without booking in advance. With hostels hosting free internet, plus internet cafes everywhere, and specific websites which cater to booking hostels in advance (www.hostelworld.com is one), it has made our usual way of travel (just show up) much more challenging. We have always found accommodation everywhere, even in the high season. We prefer this method as it doesn’t tie us down to being anywhere at a certain particular time. As well, we like to see the room and the location before we pay for it (websites make you put a 10% down payment from your credit card to book it). Even though high season is not supposed to be until December, and more so January – March, we have been surprised at how booked everything is. I can just imagine what it will be like in the next few months!

We walked around the small city of Puerto Madryn and were surprised at the quality of the shops and restaurants. Apparently, cruise ships dock here enroute to southern Patagonia and Antarctica, so they cater to a different crowd. After enjoying a delicious pizza and bottle of Malbec, our next item on the agenda was booking a car for a few days to see the wildlife on Peninsula Valdes (@ $100 day with Budget). We ended up with a station wagon since the 2 smaller economy size classes were unavailable.

We headed out the next day, about an hour and a half and 100 km later, to the village of Puerto Pirimades. We drove around and found a room for $50 – it had two bunk beds and a private washroom, and included breakfast. After a beach-side hamburger n’ fries, we walked along the coast and saw “Southern Right Whales” spraying and breaching in the bay. We later drove down the coast and watched the whales, close to shore, at sunset.

We enjoyed a great dinner at a paradillo (grill house), with Heicki from Germany, who had been on the same bus beside us all the way from Buenos Aires. She films documentaries all over the world so was very interesting to talk to.

IT COULD HAVE BEEN WORSE – PART 3
(Part 1 – Theft of Fred’s daypack, Part 2, Theft in the B.A. Subway)

Well, let’s just say I never had to sleep in a bunk bed as a kid, haven’t since, and hopefully, will never have to again! Fred and I each decided to sleep on the top of our bunk beds since the mattresses appeared firmer and less-used. At around 4 a.m., I decided to use the washroom. The room was pitch black, but I knew the light switch was on the wall, directly across from me, about 4′ away. As I sat up and reached for the light, I went crashing to the floor, landing hard on my right side (hip, arm, and head). I startled Fred awake and managed to get to my feet and turn on the light.

After assessing the damages (a scrape on my right elbow, a goose egg forming on the right side of my head, and a big, red mark on my right hip), apart from my pride, nothing seemed too injurious. Since I still needed to use the washroom, off I slowly went, and somewhere thereafter, blacked out, crashed down, and hit my head on the bidet.

This time, I whacked the left side of my head, enough to leave a “big, gaping gash with blood coming out” as described by Fred. He wanted to take me to Emergency, but with my previous experiences with emergency rooms in Canada, I didn’t figure a village of 300 and 3 streets, would even have a doctor on call at 4 in the morning. Plus, I had sworn in the past, that unless a bone was sticking out of me, I was never going back to the hospital for an injury.

To make sure I was in my right mind, I started doing math facts in my head (e.g., 6 x 9 is 54. 7 x 8 is 56). In retrospect, I could have been answering myself wrong and didn’t know it! I knew from previous head concussions, my sister Caroline’s, not mine, that I should stay awake for an hour to make sure I didn’t vomit or pass out again. Nevertheless, I went back to sleep after a while with Fred watching over me.

In the morning, I had Fred look at my wound and it was open and gaping with my hair inside. Fred pretty much insisted that I go to the doctor’s office since he didn’t want to be the one treating it after it got infected. I relented and we arrived just after 9, when they opened. There was a receptionist just inside who didn’t speak any English so I just re-enacted banging my head on a sharp object. She went and got the male nurse, who also didn’t speak English, who then had me accompany him a room at the back. I re-enacted again to him what had happened and he looked at my wound and got the doctor. It turned out she didn’t speak any English either, but with my knowledge of Italian, I understood that I should have come in right after it happened and now it was going to be more difficult to stitch.

I had to lay down on a hard table, face first, while they squirted lots of what appeared to be iodine on my head. As I lay there, it came down onto the table, and onto my nose and mouth. I lay motionless as they applied more, then dabbed at. The doctor was trying to tell me what was coming next, but I didn’t understand, and at this point, I didn’t care. I just kept saying “Si”, “Si”, (yes), and hoping that whatever they were going to use, it was coming out of a new package. I then heard the scissors, snipping away at my hair and watched as it fell to the floor, beside me.

When I felt the first needle, I was hoping it was a painkiller, and not the needle to stitch me up. I have never had stitches before, but could imagine how painful the process was going to be. After a couple of pricks, I figured it must have been the painkiller as they then left me alone for a few minutes for it to kick in. Then came the stitches. Fortunately, she gave me enough and hardly felt a thing. Afterwards, she prescribed me some antibiotics and ibuprofen which I was to take for 72 hours. She indicated she would like me to go to the hospital in Puerto Madryn for a head x-ray but I figured I’d be okay and said I wouldn’t be going. To appease her, I agreed to come back 2 hours later in case I was throwing up or having dizzy spells. There were no directions as to the stitches though, which are still in my head. What surprised me the most about my visit was that there was absolutely no paperwork! No need to see my passport, my health card, plus, it was free!

Although I felt like I had just gone a round with Mike Tyson, I told Fred I was up to travelling in the car to the far east of the peninsula (1.5 hours on a wide, gravel road with many washboards). Here, we saw lots of sea lions, penguins, and elephant seals lazing about in the sand along the Atlantic coast. Off in the distance, we spotted a mother whale and her calf, swimming in the ocean. It was unbelievable windy!

The following morning, we took a boat cruise out to see the whales. They are named “Southern Right Whales” apparently because whalers found them to be the easiest to harpoon since they would come up right alongside their boats (hence, they were the right whales to kill). We must have seen at least a dozen and were able to come within 30′ of them. We did see one mother whale who had 2 calves which was very rare. Either she had twins, or more likely, the mother had adopted one. Also, the whales had barnacles on them.

After our few days on the peninsula, we headed back to Puerto Madryn and back to the same hostel. After returning the car, we purchased our 18. 5 hour bus tickets back to Buenos Aires. Unfortunately, this company had a different definition of “cama” and instead of getting the fully reclining, 6 foot space, we only had semi-reclining seats. Something we would make sure to ask, in the future.

On arrival, we took a taxi to Buquebus Terminal where we caught the 11:30 a.m express ferry (1 hour – $25 each) over to Colonia Del Sacramento in Uruguay. At this point, we had been travelling almost 24 hours straight. Luckily, I had booked a hostel over the internet from Puerto Madryn for the night which was in an excellent location in the historical district and only a 10 minute walk from the bus station (El Viajeros Hostel & Suites $60 with private bath and tv).

We will be spending about 12 days in Uruguay before heading back for what I’m sure will be more unique experiences in Buenos Aires December 1 – 3.

PICKPOCKETS IN THE BUENOS AIRES SUBWAY

One of the concerns about travelling is the fact that you have to carry all of your valuables, money, credit cards, and important documents on your person or in your luggage. Being a tourist in foreign lands also makes you stand out and makes you a target for thieves. As you have already read, Lisa and I were victimized in a Peru bus station when my knapsack was stolen under my nose when our attention was momentarily distracted.

Both of us are clearly tourists travelling in South America: we’re both tall, blonde, wear our North Face clothing including cargo pants (that can be un-zipped and made into shorts) and carry a knapsack and other luggage around airports, bus terminals, and city streets. We also frequently look lost and can be observed consulting city maps while looking around for street signs. Lisa’s baseball cap and my Tilley hat are also dead giveaways. Very obviously, we are GRINGOS and it’s written all over us. For some, this means that we are obvious targets.

Stories of victimization are common amongst travellers and there are also plenty of warnings in travel books and on the internet in individual travel blogs. It is clear that as a traveller, you have to be cautious and diligent. At the same time, one does not wish to become nervous and paranoid or unfriendly (or even worse — rude) to all the locals who approach you. Most of them are just being helpful and friendly and the experience of travelling is enhanced by these encounters. In fact, hustlers are relatively uncommon in South America and most people who approach us are genuinely friendly and only wishing to be helpful.

After the lost of our bag in Peru, Lisa and I became more vigilant and careful about theft and losses. For instance, we check our rooms thoroughly and make sure we don’t leave our jackets or sweaters behind in a restaurant or our luggage unattended or unwatched.

Even though this becomes almost second nature after awhile, it is tiresome and begins to wear you down. We are always making small decisions about where to sit and place our knapsacks and ensure that one person watches over our possessions if the other goes window shopping or off to the toilet. Given the fact that we are constantly in public places, you can see that this is a continual effort and hassle. Travelling means that you constantly have to keep your guard up and be vigilant and suspicious.

On crowded streets and other public places, I typically walk behind Lisa to ensure that she is not hassled or grabbed by any perverts. This can be a problem in certain countries and I feel better if I can keep an eye on her. In addition, she normally carries her knapsack with the camera and laptop and I normally leave mine behind in the room.

Travellers also have to make a number of other decisions regarding security. Since we are constantly staying in hotels and hostels, we have to leave our luggage behind as we go out for tours, walkabouts, dinner etc. Both Lisa and I have locks for our suitcases but this will not prevent any determined thief from walking off with them or from searching their contents. We also take a chance when we leave the suitcases in the secure rooms of hotels after we have checked out but before we catch our next bus or plane out of town. Often these rooms are not very secure at all and other travellers and staff have free access. It is not uncommon to hear from travellers that they have had money or cameras stolen from their hostel or hotel room or from their storage room.

This means that one has to decide what to leave behind in the suitcase and what to carry on one’s person. When I travel, I always carry my most important valuables on my person. This includes our passports, plane and bus tickets, credit and ABM cards, my driver’s licence, and all of our cash. My reason for doing so is that these items are typically what thieves are after and they are the most difficult to replace. In particular, I am most concerned about passports, credit and ABM cards, and driver’s licence. I can replace any cash that might be stolen or lost but I can only imagine the problems Lisa and I would have trying to replace passports and bank cards in places like Peru and Bolivia.

One of the assumptions that I work on is that I am less likely to be robbed in person than have my personal property stolen from my hotel room. By the way, robbery is defined as a crime of violence and theft where the offender confronts the victim and uses violence or the threat of violence to obtain property from the victim — ( Please see and purchase my book Force and Fear: Robbery in Canada for a thorough discussion of definitional issues and other interesting stuff).

Most of the victimization we hear about involves theft and not robbery. Robberies are likely to occur in remote or out-of-the-way places such as parks and underground parking lots after dark. Lisa and I are very careful to avoid making ourselves vulnerable to robbery.

Theft is the most common problem and we are also alert to this. Vigilance is most important in busy places like public transportation hubs — subways, buses, trains, and airport terminals. We watch our luggage carefully and never leave it unattended.

We are also alert to the possibility that there are pickpockets about. A British girl we met at Lake Titicaca in Bolivia described how her camera was stolen out of her pocket as she and her boyfriend walked through a crowded restaurant in Peru. Lisa has even read about thieves who use razor blades to slice open sealed pockets to get at someone’s money or wallet.

We have been to several restaurants in Lima, Santiago, and Buenos Aires who have straps with snaps on the chairs which allow you to secure purses, handbags, daypacks, etc. While enjoying a nice lunch at a downtown street cafe in Buenos Aires, young roma-type children (@ 6 and 4 years) were working their way through the restaurant, obviously looking to take something.

Since I carry most of our money, bank cards, passports, and other papers and documents, I am very careful to keep them in the sealed front pockets of my trousers. All of my cargo pants have several pockets all with velcro or zipper sealed pockets. I keep the passports, large amounts of local currency, and other papers in my sealed left pocket. I keep a small wallet with bank cards etc. and our emergency supply of US cash (about $600) in my sealed right pocket.

I also keep some local currency in my right unsealed pocket since I am constantly in need of money for small items such as water, restaurants, taxis, newspapers, etc. Having this cash readily available means that I don’t have to open my sealed pockets in public places. Keep in mind that I sometimes carry a small knapsack when we are about and this leaves me with only one hand free and means that I am vulnerable to distractions and possible theft.

All of this leads up to the subway incident. On this particular day, Lisa and I were on our way to the central postal station in Buenos Aires to forward a package of souvenirs, books, and some clothing back to Canada. We had most of our stuff in my knapsack and a few items in a plastic bag. I carried the knapsack and Lisa carried the bag.

We had decided to take the subway for the experience and also because it was close to our hostel and the post office was miles away. Before going down the subway, we stopped at an ATM to obtain some Argentinian pesos. I took out several hundred dollars and forgot to split the money and place the large bills into my left sealed pocket for safety. Instead, I put all the money into my open right hand pocket.

This was clearly a mistake but as I mentioned before, it is difficult to keep your guard up constantly since we never have to act this way at home. It’s hard not to make mistakes on occasion when it comes to security issues. This was one of those times. I was too distracted thinking about how we were going to manoeuvre our way through the subway (everything is in Spanish and it seems that hardly anyone in Buenos Aires, or South America, speaks English).

In addition, I did not expect the crowding and chaos we experienced in the underground. The last time I had been in a subway was in Berlin two years earlier, and London 4 years earlier, and their systems were relatively uncrowded and peaceful. Before that, I had not been in a subway in more than 20 years.

Descending into the subway system of Buenos Aires was fine and we were able to quickly determine which train to take. There were only a handful of passengers waiting on the platform but I was soon shocked when the train pulled up. All cars were packed and no one was getting off! Instead, the passengers on the platform were forcing their way into the train as those within attempted to move to accommodate them. Lisa and I also forced our way on and the doors closed behind us.

We were packed in there like sardines and it was difficult to reach through the crowd to grab hold of the metal bar. I was carrying our knapsack in my left hand but had to put it on the floor on my feet because of the weight. I used my left arm to grab the post as the train took off.

I also became suddenly aware of the fact that I had a lot of money in my right open pocket and dropped my right hand down to protect it. Suddenly I remembered and became concerned about the passports in my left sealed pocked remembering what Lisa had read about the razor blades. Lisa was also concerned about our circumstances and reminded me to watch our for thieves.

I wanted to remove the cash from my unsecured pocket and place it into a sealed one but I didn’t want to do this in such a public place. We realized that we had to travel eight stops before we got off and had little choice but to stay put. Unbelievably, the train added more passengers at each stop and we were pressed closer and closer together.

Finally we arrived at the main terminal and we were able to get off without incident. We moved over to the side wall and tried to figure out where to make the next connection and were assisted by a kindly Argentinian who spoke English. The exit was only a few steps away and down a short set of stairs. I was still very conscious of the money in my open pocket and wanted to move it but the station was still very crowded and we were on the move again.

When we got to the bottom of the stairs, we checked the subway directions on the wall and determined that we were on the right platform. Everything had moved very quickly but so far, it had all gone smoothly. There were only a handful of passengers waiting as the train pulled up. We had been waiting less than a moment and I had not had the opportunity to move the cash out of my pocket.

The train was again packed but since this was the main terminal, almost all of them were disembarking. We stood back as they got off and Lisa stepped onto the train. I was right behind her holding the knapsack in my left hand and protecting my pocket with my right hand. As I placed my first step onto the train, I felt someone’s hand slip into my right pocket — the pocket with all of our unprotected cash!

I don’t know whether or not I would have felt this intrusion if I hadn’t been so vigilant and slightly paranoid. But there was no mistaking it — someone had slipped their hand into my pocket. I didn’t feel them take the money, however, and was surprised that they were able to get it so quickly and almost effortlessly.

Without thinking, I began yelling “HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY! ….” — I don’t know how many times. I also wheeled about to my right still conscious of the knapsack that I held tightly in my left hand. When I turned, I expected to confront a man or male thief but instead was face to face with a 40 year old woman whose arms were covered with what appeared to be a white sweater. I realized right away that she was the only person who could have done it and I instinctively grabbed her left arm under the sweater with my free right hand.

I realized immediately that this woman was using the sweater to hide her arms and that she did this so that other passengers could not see her hand in someone’s else’s pocket. Even though I could not see the money (I didn’t even realize she had taken it — I thought it was still in my pocket) I knew she was the culprit. Her proximity, the sweater, the look in her eyes. I just knew it.

She was only about five feet tall and looked up at me in shock. I had her by the arm and I was still yelling “HEY! HEY! HEY!”. She was staring me in the face and her eyes were bulging huge and she suddenly threw all of the money on the subway platform.

I didn’t actually see her throw the money since both of her arms were below the sweater. I only saw the sweater move under her right arm and the money was flying everywhere.

It’s clear now that she knew she was caught and this was a ploy to avoid capture. Being a criminologist, I know that skilled thieves have a number of tricks up their sleeves including the use of diversions and partners who can intervene to help in an escape. I don’t know whether or not she worked with an associate but her quick reaction in dropping the money worked and she made good her esscape.

There was a crowd of passengers around us trying to get onto the train when all of this transpired. They no doubt heard my yelling and witnessed what happened next. I dropped to the platform on my hands and knees and began to scoop up the money with my free right hand. All I could see was money everywhere and the legs of passengers.

Several people stepped on some of the bills since they were blowing about slightly. I saw a few hands reach for the money but they were prevented from scooping them up by people who stepped on the bills. I even saw someone’s hand point to me indicating that it was my money.

I stuffed a fist full of bills into my right pocket and grabbed the rest with my right hand and stuffed them in my left pocket. I could hear Lisa behind me asking what had happened. I didn’t have time to answer.

As I moved to pick up the money from under the passengers feet, each one of them lifted their feet to allow me to pick up the bills. It was a strange experience to be helped by people who I couldn’t even see. I only ever saw their legs.

As I grabbed the last bill and stood up, one man indicated to Lisa that one of the bills had fallen down onto the tracks. I told Lisa to forget it and to get onto the train.

Fortunately, the train was less than half-full and we were able to sit down opposite one another. All of this had taken only ten seconds or so and Lisa was still unsure what had happened. I told her that a lady had tried to pick my pocked but had thrown the money on the platform when I grabbed hold of her. Lisa heard me yelling and had turned around to see me on my hands and knees picking up the cash. She didn’t see the woman but saw one man stepping on some of the money. Her first thought was to grab the guy by the throat (Lisa is a former police officer). He was probably one of the kind persons helping me so thank God, she didn’t assault the poor guy.

Everyone in the subway was looking at us and a couple of passengers asked Lisa in Spanish what happened. No one probably saw the woman put her hand in my pocket but they would have all heard me yelling, seen the money everywhere, and witnessed me scrambling to pick it up.

Lisa indicated through hand motions that someone had put their hands in my pocket and everybody nodded knowingly. A few people began speaking in Spanish but we could only speculate what they were saying or what advice they had to offer. Everyone looked sympathetic and concerned just as the passengers in the Tumbes bus terminal in Peru had been after I had my knapsack stolen.

While we waited for our stop, I pulled the crinkled bills out of my right and left unsecured pockets and stuffed them into the velcro secured pockets. People on the subway watched and I was very conscious of this but I was taking no more chances.

Once we arrived at our destination and got out of the subway onto the street, we hailed a taxi and took it to the central Post Office. We took a number and a seat and waited our turn. When it became apparent that it would be awhile, I decided to remove the crinkled bills, count them, determine our losses if any, fold them, and place them back in my sealed pockets.

I was not entirely sure how much money I had to begin with but it did not appear that there was any money missing. I may have lost one $100 Peso bill under the tracks of the subway but not much more. This would have been worth about $30 US.

Lisa and I were a little upset by the incident and for having made yet another mistake regarding security. We also realized that these thieves were good, that it is difficult to always have your guard up, and that it could have been much worse. We also know that in travelling for eight months to so many different countries, we are likely to experience problems of various sorts. In the grand scheme of things, this incident was relatively minor and we are still upbeat but cautious. We find most people extremely friendly and helpful and we don’t walk around paranoid and suspicious.

By the way, we spent the rest of the day exploring downtown Buenos Aires and took a taxi back to our hostel. Not the subway.

Mountains, Malbec & Menoza

After spending a couple of days exploring Santiago on foot, and staying at the beautifully restored colonial “Happy House Hostel” (Author’s Choice from the Lonely Planet – double bed with ensuite bathroom, plus sauna, $62/night), Fred and I decided it was time to head east to Argentina.

We booked a semi-cama (reclining seat) on Tur-bus for the 6 hour bus ride to the city of Mendoza. Since our bus ride was during the day, we were able to relax and observe the terrific scenery of the Andes mountain range. We could easily see the snow-capped mountains of Mt. Aconcagua at 6959m as well as many others. We climbed steeply the meandering mountain roads with dozens of switchbacks, each view appeared better than the last. A few of the mountains had ski lifts which were closed for the season.

The bus drove into the customs building where we got off the bus to get our passports stamped by both Chilean and Argentinian customs. After a search of our bus, we were back on the bus to continue on our way.

Soon after leaving customs, we started our descent into the famous great wine region of Mendoza. While enroute, we past through the spectacular countryside of the Sierra de Uspallata, where the movie, Seven Days in Tibet, starring Brad Pitt, was actually filmed. Majestic mountains, fertile valleys, and lush pastures surrounded us. For the next hour or more, the bus followed the River Mendoza and the scenery gradually turned to vineyards (called bodegas in Spanish).

Upon arrival in Mendoza, we were met at the bus terminal by a gentleman representing Hotel Condesa. After showing us a brochure and offering us a discount ($40/night), we decided to check it out. We were pleasantly surprised once inside our room that we were able to get BBC. We hadn’t watched any television or read any news for at least 3 weeks (except in the hostel lobby in Santiago the night of the US election).

We were very impressed with the city of Mendoza. It lies in a wide valley and with its clear, blue skies, the snowcapped mountains are visible from downtown. Although its population is around a million, there are very few high rises (in case of “The Big One” – a major earthquake since the city has had to be rebuilt a couple of times already). The streets are wide and lined with bushy sycamore and plane trees. There are several plazas (small parks) surrounded with excellent outdoor restaurants, pubs, and ice cream shops. A big bottle of Braham beer (600ml) was only $2 and a bottle of Norton Classic 2006 Malbec only $9.

When in Mendoza, going on a wine-tasting tour is a must. Luckily for me, the tour didn’t start until 2:30 pm since I was still recovering from over-indulging on Malbec the night before! It was one of those hot summer nights, enjoying dinner outside on the promenade, and the wine was going down so smoothly . . .

We were a small group of 8 (2 fellow Canadians from Victoria, 3 Irish girls, and a Frenchman). First, we went to a state-of-the-art bodega called Lopez. The guide took us through the whole process and showed us the equipment involved. Apparently, the wine is the same each year since the weather conditions are always optimal and consistent. The Mendoza region only gets 5 days of rain a year, and with its hot days and cold nights, this conditions are perfect. We then went to a traditional, family operated bodega called Cavas de Don (somebody – I forget the last name). Most of their vines were 40 – 60 years old but they did have some 100 year old vines also. She advised they didn’t use machines to remove the grapes, but did it by hand using scissors. We tried a couple of Malbecs here, but preferred the Lopez Malbec.

We also toured a family-run olive grove farm. She explained there were two kinds of olives – one for eating and one for oil and that there are 200 varieties of olive trees. On their particular estate, they had 5 types of olive trees and most are around 100 years old, but they can grow to be 400 years old! The colour of the oil is dependent upon the kind of olive tree. Also, the acidity of the olive oil determines whether it is Extra Virgin, Virgin, or Regular. As the olive matures, it goes from green, to purple, to black. Once it is brown, the olive is spoiled. When sampling olive oil, the guide explained you need to smell the aroma and not to worry about the colour. After the tour, we sampled olive oil on bread (with sundried tomatoes) and olives. Fred would have purchased a lot had we not had to carry them for the next 6 months.

FRED’S ASSESSMENT OF THE WINE

Since I am sitting here enjoying a delicious bottle of Argentinian wine, Lisa insisted that I describe its taste, texture, etc. I am not a wine connoisseur but I do know what I like and what I don’t like so I suppose I am qualified to assess and critique the wine. Please keep in mind that I have already begun drinking this wine as I assess it.

As I lift the glass and swig (perhaps this is not the proper phrase) the wine in my mouth, I detect a distinguished floral great mouth feel loaded with earthy notes and soft red fruits of white cherry, cranberry and plum.

But wait! I am getting ahead of myself. You probably wish to know the name of the wine and what it looks like. The wine is made in the famous wine region of Mendoza Argentina by FINCA BELTRAN duo and it is a Malbec, a variety of wine for which Argentina is famous.

It’s a red wine but as I shake the glass, I can see that it is a bright red ruby colour with a slight hint of yellow and violet hues. As I swish (this is also probably not the right term) the wine in my glass, I can see that the wine clings to the wall of the glass and drips down the side slowly (this is supposed to indicate a quality wine as was explained to us on our earlier tour of a winery),

Now back to the taste. First, let me have a drink. Okay, I can say with great certainty that this Malbec has a soft and bright entrance with coca-cola flavours, earthy notes, sweet ripe red fruit, with sweet notes of chocolate and a little tannin. A floral, great mouth feel that is very yummy.

I’ll try another sip. Yes, I can also say with certainty that in mid-palate, the wine picks up with a bit more tannin, spicy tobacco, and almonds. I also detect something else. Let me drink a little more. Oh yes, the mid-palate also delivers a little spice of cinnamon, minerality, citric notes, and a pleasant grassy feel on the tongue. There is also a big fruit concentration in the middle palate. Very ripe but not over-ripe.

This wine is not the least bit stuffy or overpowering. On the contrary, it is very smooth and offers a gentle entrance along with a velvety texture.

I’ll try another glass. This Malbec has excellent integration of Oak with a floral structure that compliment one another. It’s a bit hot on mid-finish but begins the finish with a bright entrance, sweet notes of blackberry and gooseberry, a hint of guava, and a bit more tannin and acidic fruit.

Another dink. Oy yes, there is also a taste of current and spice, mint, and a touch of alcohol on the nose.

My last glass! I am happy to say that the finish does not disappoint. The supple tannins and buttery and oaky notes provide a nice lasting finish.

My last sip. I must say that this wine has great depth, balance, and structure and is a good value at 9 Pesos (about $3 US) a bottle. Give it a try.

Cheers 🙂

Fred n Lisa

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Happy Trails,

Lisa n Fred

Ola! We have just spent a relaxing 10 days on Easter Island (a.k.a. Rapa Nui in Polynesian). This is one of the most remote places on earth – the nearest inhabited island is Pitcairn which is 2,000 km away. It was a 5 ½ hour flight from Santiago (Easter Island has been a Chilean territory since 1888) but the time flew by, since everybody had their own audio visual set in front of them (I watched 2 movies – Oceans Eleven and Troy).

Upon arrival, we had many hostels (called residenciales) vying for our business. Although we had a special one in mind from the guide book, we couldn’t resist looking at one offered for a quarter of the price (since we were going to stay for 10 days, a deal at $25/night). The photos looked nice and the location seemed perfect, so we decided to give it a try. Another Brazilian couple (mother and daughter) also decided to check it out, so all four of us squeezed into the back seat of a jeep.

Within a few minutes, we arrived at Residential Apina Tupuna (www.apinatupuna.com). We checked out a room and concluded that we would try it for a night, but would still check out some others while walking around later that day. The view facing the Pacific Ocean was perfect, it was just the room itself was a little dated, to say the least. It seemed like they had put it together with whatever materials they had laying around (e.g., bathroom tiles on our porch, porch tiles in the bathroom, two different types and colours of tiles in the bedroom area, plain wood nailed on the inside of the room, a colorful sarong nailed up on one side of the room, etc). I didn’t see any cockroaches, but presumed they would emerge come nightfall. At least the sheets and towels smelled fresh n’ clean.

Within minutes of walking along the coast to the main town of Hanga Roa, we were thrilled to see our first moai – giant stone statues. These impressive statues, as we later found out, are located all around the island. Out of a total of 887, 288 are standing upright (and I think I ended up taking photos of almost each and every one of them!). The rest were either toppled over in tsunamis, knocked down by rival tribes, or remain unfinished in the volcano of Rano Raraku, the quarry from which the moai were cut from the hard “tuff”.

As we continued through town to check out other lodging possibilities, we finally came upon the small guesthouse we had originally planned to stay at. Even though we were in low season, the rate was $125 US (up from $75 as published in the 2006 Lonely Planet guidebook), so we decided to stay at our original residenciale, and with the money we were saving, rent a 4 x 4 jeep for our stay ($40/day).

Now, we had wheels, an oceanfront room, plus 10 days to patiently tour 117 sq. km. (Easter Island’s maximum length is 24 km and its widest point is 12 km). There are only a couple of main, paved roads – one of which leads to the very north of the island to Anakena Beach (about a 20 minute drive). The other paved road leads southeast beyond the airport, along the coast to the volcanic quarry, as well as to the famous site of Ahu Tongariki. This impressive monument is the largest “ahu” (stone platform) ever built and 15 moai are erected upon it.

Having the jeep gave us lots of flexibility. If the weather was overcast in town, we’d hop in the jeep and drive north to the white sand beach where it would be sunny and clear. Although a volcanic island, Anakena and the neighboring beach, Ovahe, have beautiful white sand. Given Easter Island’s location just south of the Tropic of Capricorn, the sun’s rays were very powerful so the waters of the Pacific Ocean, although refreshing, were welcoming.

The weather was okay during the 10 days we were there – between 21 and 23 degrees Celsius, a mix of sun and cloud, and only a few rainy spells. Since it is in the southern hemisphere, it is their spring (during our fall). The horses on the island still had their “winter” haircoats since they are just coming off their winter season.

Speaking of horses – there were horses everywhere!!! If they weren’t sporting a brand, that means they were wild. We did see many wild horses on the island roaming freely. Several times, we had to give way to horses crossing the roadway. Mostly bays with white, but some sorrels, chestnuts, and roans. They were between 14.3 and 15.3 hands high. On our second last day, we went horseback riding for almost 4 hours ($45 each). We rode to the top of the highest point on the island – 510 metres. I had a sorrel mare and Fred rode a great, bay gelding. I couldn’t believe how well-mannered the horses were. There were 10 of us on the ride (5 French, 3 German, and the two of us) with the Rapa Nui guide, Pantu. None of the horses spooked, kicked one another, or misbehaved. Fred and I were the only ones with experience, for many, it was their first experience on a horse and Pantu had them trotting most of the way. It was no easy ride either, since it was either uphill, or downhill. I didn’t quite catch the names of our horses, I just remember them each being 2 syllables and Polynesian.

Other memorable highlights of Easter Island include:

– beautiful sunsets over the Pacific Ocean
– celebrating Fred’s birthday with a barbeque chicken lunch and a couple of Coronas at the beach, followed by a swim in the ocean
– hiking up to a crater lake in the volcano
– hiking up to the most eastern side of the island in search of, and finding, “Poike“, the smallest moai at 1.13 metres
– figuring out all the different petroglyphs in the volcanic rocks
– watching kids gallop their horses up and down the main street, bareback, with just a rope in the mouth for control
– watching mens’ competitive soccer matches from the balcony of our restaurant
– visiting the museum and learning about the island’s rich, and mysterious history
– knowing that Thor Heyerdahl (author of the book: The Kontiki) helped erect a fallen moai at Anakena Beach
– having the time to revisit the sites, especially Rano Raraku and seeing “The Giant” moai
– experiencing an election (for Mayor – on a Sunday – so they closed every restaurant serving alcohol which was pretty much, every one) so we had to eat at a local’s corner shop and we finally got served after at least an hour and a half.
Now, we are back to Santiago, staying at the “Happy House Hostel” which was Lonely Planet’s “Author’s Choice”. Once again, the price has gone up since time of writing from $50, to $62/night for a double room with private bath. But, it is in a great location, in a beautifully restored 19th century building, has Cable TV in the lounge, and Wi-Fi (hence, I am able to upload this blog as well as photos to Flickr and prints to Walmart).

Tomorrow, we are off to Argentina. We’ve booked a semi-calma (reclining seat) to Mendoza ($35 each) and it is a 7 ½ hour journey. Looking forward to Mendoza – home of the best Merlot!

Until next time,

Lisa n Fred

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Cheers,

Lisa n Fred

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Lisa n Fred

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Corioco, Bolivia.