Kategorie-Archiv: holar-ENGL-io

342_The Gate

Don´t count your chickens before they are hatched. Or in words a bit closer to a “professional” cyclist´s life: Never be too enthusiastic about a country before reaching the border! Because what I met there was nothing less than a professional idiot…

Want to hear the whole story? Ok: I reached the migration office after something like 3 km cycling out of town. To be informed that I had to pay a fine for having stayed too long in the country. For leaving my money in restaurants, hotels and hostals, in city centres and souvenir shops for 2 weeks longer than the immigration officer at the airport of Lima did allow me. I mean officially I have 90 days, right? So what exactly is the reason for receiving 30 days only? Those of you who think they know me might now think they know what happened there in the office. But no, you´re wrong: I didn´t say a word! I just asked the officer where I have to pay that fine of 14 US Dollars. “Over there” he pointed with a stretched out arm. But when I was outside where more or less his finger had pointed to I didn´t see anything but some wild dogs having street sex. I went in again to – still very kindly – ask again. When then I heard that “over there” would be back in town! Ok, now you know me…

“Que mierda aquí” I said loudly when leaving the office. And outside again. In all the languages I know by now. And come on: It´s true! Not only they steal money for already having spent and left more money in their country. They also steal my time and my energy by expecting to do these 3 km again. Twice! Well, but what choice did I have? I got on the bike and looked for the “Banco Nacional”. Finding it in the corner of the first Plaza but not being able to pay with credit card. Nop! I had to go to the Atm – and thank God they had one! – and withdraw. Meaning that after having went back to the counter and payed the fine in cash I had some coins left that later I wouldn´t be able to change into Bolivian currency. So of course I also had to drink a coffee in order to not waste them.

Well, finally after being back at the office and also after having decided to just take it easy that I had lost one hour of my beloved lifetime I got the extended version of ridiculousness: “I will not proceed you!” – “You will not… sorry, what?” No, he would not proceed me. The official reason I got was that I had offended him. Which is simply not true! I didn´t even look at him criticising only the insolent process. I had almost left his office when I did say all these things to myself – loudly, ok, but definitely not to him! Because I knew that he was not responsible for the process. He was just the one to follow it. (I will not talk about these people who just follow the order. …compared to people who have a certain feeling for “Service at the client” who would have tried to get a credit card reader to the counter.) I did try to explain that nothing of what I said was personally dedicated to him, still having something like a neutral sympathy for him. But when he just didn´t want to accept my explanations and excuses for a potential misunderstanding I had to get helped by the police officers next door. I told them what had happened. Telling them openly what I had said. And they were really friendly! I could feel they did believe me and would help me. In the end one of the police men went over to talk to the migration officer. But when he came back and told me I would have called him a “Hijo de Puta” (sorry but I don´t even know how to translate that into English, not to think of saying that in Spanish to an Official!) I forgot about my guilty feeling. The fact that he had to invent that to give the whole case a more serious character did nothing but confirm that what had really happened was actually not enough to not do his job!

Well, in the end the policemen arranged that a colleague of the idiot´s would process me. Of course making himself a bit more important before doing that by telling me: Please take a seat and wait. …I was the only one in the queue! Then he continued being important and finally told me that now I would need 3 copies of the passport and the receipt of the fine. …then 3 more copies of the backside and 2 more of another piece of paper. It´s because they don´t have a copier in the migration office! Actually he deserved… But I stayed calm. Just looking at the police officer still waiting in the frame of the door. And silently starting to cry after having turned.

Making 8 copies meant going back into town a second time in order to withdraw in order to pay the copies in a copy shop – that at least was close to the migration office. It was just about the way a normal, civilized tourist is being treated by these nobodies having received a little bit of power over others… But I was lucky to have the 2 police guys! They already knew why my eyes were under water. “Need copies?”, they asked me immediately. I only could nod. “Don´t worry, we will help you!”, one of them said to me. They were great people! And they kept their promise to help me even when being quite surprised that it was 8 and not 1 or 2 copies I needed.

Well, finally I passed the border. But feeling so, so, so disappointed that this will be the last experience in Peru. Can you tell me why they always find the worst characters for the border counters? Actually there you would need the most professional and warm and human types as it is a border is the Gate of “Welcome” and “Good-bye”. But as long as we keep on placing the most ignorant ones at the service hotlines there isn´t any big hope that this will ever change. Just one thing is sure now: Definitely no Tattoo. My butts will stay White!

 

 

Copacabana, Bolivien (Hostel)

Tages-Km: 17,23km / -Zeit: 1:25h / -Höhenmeter: 200m

Gesamt-Km: 21.092km / -Zeit: 1.442h / -Höhenmeter: 191.789m

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341_Hasta la vista, Perú!

Long, long time ago I remember I promised to write more often and more regularly in English. Well,… it was simply impossible. You know: After the middle-sweet experience in Central America I finally found a new love. Peru!

First it didn´t look like the rocks and tree trunks on my way would have stayed in the stretch from Guatemala to Panama: The flight from Panama City to Lima was more a nightmare than a short trip to South America. Still in Panama it took me half a day to find a bike shop that would sell me a cardboard-box – or actually two – to pack the bike. Another half day to bring them to the hostal which without the help of Johan, Kim and his car would have been almost impossible. Then packing the bike and the bags, finally closing well the cardboard boxes, bringing everything to the little airport again with Kim´s help where the first order at the check-in was: open the boxes! Boxes open, inside checked, but how to close them now? Luckily there was still Kim who helped me with various equipment from his tools box of the car to finally get on the plane. Without my pink knife and my fork of course as I´ve forgotten put them out of the hand luggage… first tears.

Transit stop in Bogotá, Columbia: Leave the plane, pass the immigration control, wait at the baggage reclaim – of course oversize baggage takes quite a bit longer – leave the airport on level “0”, rush up to the first floor, re-enter the airport, wait for check-in (first me, then again the oversized boxes), safety control where they found the little lighter (and of course kept it), finally on the plane to Lima. Being up since 5 a.m. I set the first step into Peru´s Capital when it was already dark… with an opened and completely messed up luggage and a with purpose damaged helmet. Columbia seems to have some serious problems with drugs when the security even estimates the magic powder hidden in a simple bike helmet… Well, most important thing that evening was to have a place to stay: I was thinking of a simple hostal close to the airport. But do you think this was easy going? I understood the trouble with the taxi driver (who absolutely didn´t want to drop me there) and later at the check-in only the next morning when my body and mind had been re-united by some nice hours of deep sleep. Now negotiating with the lady owner the cost for one more day that I would need for the unpacking and bike mounting I realised that usually there you pay 3-h-wise! And I remembered an actually nice moment of the last night: There finally had appeared a young guy who solved the problem of a “girl with a bicycle wanting to stay in a hostal” with the following simple words: she only wants to sleep! – “Yes, exactly! What else do people want to do in a hostal?”, did I agree. Well, … in the following days I could hear what was the alternative purpose to stay there!

“The following days”? Yes! The pure moving from Panama to Peru was just part 1 of the whole stress. Step 2 was the bike: Still in the hostal I broke one of the screws fixing the excentric that´s giving the chain it´s perfect length – took me two days to solve it! Then fighting through the crazy traffic out of Lima I broke the most sensible part of the front rack… and now? Weld it? But where? Ah, forget it: better improvise! But until I could finish (or actually start) the improvisation the spokes of the front wheel had “eaten” the lower distance stick of the mudguard, as that was fixed at the same – broken – part of the rack. Making necessary an extended version of an improvisation! When also this had been done and I had left behind the dirty and ugly stretch from Lima to Nasca I sent a prayer to heaven to finally be back in nature and in my own personal rhythm. Hell, aaahm, no: God, I only want to cycle! From now the big climb up to the 4000+ high peaks of the Andes would expect me. And to be honest: I couldn´t wait for it! All I needed was a bit of a nice landscape and a trouble-free time! I allowed myself one day off in Nasca to fly over the famous “Nasca lines” and to let settle down and leave behind the stress of fixing bike stuff. And as soon as I had left Nasca – thanks to God – I finally got payed! Beautiful rocky desert right after exiting the town and the longest climb of my lifetime waiting for me.

I calculated 3 days to arrive on the first peak of 4300 metres above sea level. But on day 2 there was no village to provide me drinking water. I only could buy it from an old lady keeping it in some plastic gallons… ending my thirst and dry throat but starting some nice stomach cramps followed by 24h feeling sick and un-well. By that time at least I had already done the steeper part and was moving on a nice flat and curvy road towards the highest point. When suddenly the shifter blocked. That was not a good sign! Because in all that time it never had blocked completely. And a checking look at the Rohloff confirmed that my worst expectations had come true: the thin cable responsible for the shifting was completely damaged and had blocked the whole system. From now I was stuck on gear 3 to do the flat! Or actually I better write “to NOT do” the flat. It was simply impossible to ride it. I had 2 choices: stop one of the passing pick-up trucks and ask for a ride into the next town where I would give it a try to repair it. Or second: walk. I remembered the frustrating downhill by car in Guatemala when all my tubes where out of order. And decided for No 2. And this is why finally I had a very, very intense first climb as walking the mountains of the Andes is offering you an even closer contact with nature and people than cycling them!

Well with the help of all my guardian angels I found one cable that was just an idea thinner than all the other normed ones and so I could fix also that issue. And from then I should have one of the best times of the whole trip! The landscape up there, the atmosphere, the energy is just breathtaking. So special and unique – never before I have seen something comparable. If you can ever visit it: Just do it! I took me two weeks to arrive in Cusco. 2 weeks, 4 passes and 4 different valleys, 15 days of fighting but also 15 days of complete freedom and pure happiness. I was just a time of my life there in the arms of the beautiful Andes!

Then I got caught by the hands of the Machu-Picchu-Mafia. Or in official words: Peru´s concept of making money by sucking travellers and tourists. I chose to lose 2 days by reaching the old famous Inca site by an affordable bus instead of paying 120 US Dollars for the faster train – one way! In the end I spend 7 hours in that Van plus 2 hours of walking to Aguascalientes, which is the town close to the entrance of Machu Picchu. Feeling like a cow following the rest of the flock having been dropped there by other 10 vans at least. And 2 days later: same procedure. Just backwards. But ok: the site in the end was absolutely worth all the effort. And I´m happy that I did it. Although I still sharply criticise Peru´s attitude regarding the conditions for a visitor of that beautiful place…

But what do I complain about: I could just grab my bike and escape from that machinery. And this is what I did. Having another week of not the same beautiful nature but al least of having another great time that finally made me fall in love with that country. Peru´s nature is overwhelming and absolutely worth to be visited. By bike if you can! Because only then you will be able to fill all your canals with strong energy. You will not only see the mountains, you will hear and smell and breathe and feel them. You will fulfill and satisfy all your senses believe me! …and even the stomach-sense will not be disappointed by simple but good food. Peru is a country made for cyclists. Well, this is my opinion at least. I did feel fantastic here. I felt treated fair by the locals. They were absolutely honest and friendly, just a great people and a pleasant experience. I will remember Peru as a kind of a pink bubble on my road. Beautiful enough to seriously think about a red “P”-Tattoo on by butts…

 

 

Yunguyo, Peru (Hotel)

Tages-Km: 102,36km / -Zeit: 5:54h / -Höhenmeter: 443m

Gesamt-Km: 21.075km / -Zeit: 1.441h / -Höhenmeter: 191.589m

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The Trip to Panama

After the up and down in Guatemala – geographically as mentally – I was hoping to find back into my beloved flying-feeling I had felt when I was cycling down the West Coast, the Baja California and the beautiful Pacific coast of Mexico. I now reached Balboa, a suburb of Panama City, which for me will be the final station of Central America. And reflecting that part of the trip now I know: The ups and downs didn´t end. I didn’t get the real good feeling, I didn´t get the flow. I will not remember that stretch as a bad time! But I will remember it as a hard time: High mountains to climb in Guatemala, heat in Nicaragua, strong winds from the front in Nicaragua and Panama, the “Gringo-feeling” that continued being just sometimes very friendly and at least half of the time not very welcoming. Then the bed bugs that kept me running until Panama. Plus being on main roads most of the time, accompanied by dirty, noisy, dangerous traffic… Central America is not a part of this world I would recommend to someone to visit with a bicycle. Except from Costa Rica which with its beaches, it´s small and so often naturally shaded roads, it´s clear and clean rivers, it´s environmental consciousness and it´s noticeable friendly and open spirit surprisingly was a cyclist´s paradise!

The rest of the central American countries is maybe difficult on a bike, but definitely worth a trip with a backpack or a mountain bike. Or just a lot of time to meet and chat with the local people. That´s maybe the thing I was missing most as my schedule to reach Rio on time is quite tough. But whenever I dedicated some time to the people here, to ask them about their lives, their conditions and their visions and to also tell them about life in Germany I felt we could transcend the huge gap between our so different lives – the gap between rich and poor, the local and the Gringo. If you have the time and the linguistic ability you will manage to make them understand that just the fact of having a nice bike or equipment is not the proof that you´re super rich and come from the land of milk and honey where it´s raining coins and dollar bills instead of water drops. They maybe will be surprised but happy to know that also in Germany people have to work quite a bit and safe their money if they want to travel the world. And you will feel when they start recognising that you also have a heart and feelings and not just a “thick” wallet. There definitely is a chance to approach each other. It takes time but it was always worth it.

Nevertheless it´s not a place for the bike – in my opinion. When I´m cycling I want to get lost in the beauty of untouched nature. I want to be taken away by it´s magical spirit and it´s overwhelming energy and not by a big truck overtaking me way to close! I want to feel a relaxed atmosphere of people who are well balanced inside and not to be stressed up by busting city life and traffic. And unfortunately from Guatemala to Panama – excepting Costa Rica – I haven´t been offered these conditions. But don´t think it was a lost time or a waste of energy! …Janosh can tell you best:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NW8sUHfQkZs

 

Balboa, Panamá (Zelt im Hostal Amador)

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Guate-up, Guate-down

So what to say about Guatemala so far? Well, did I write I love the up-and-downs? I better do as that´s what Guatemala is: Up and down! Not only talking about geography which leads me up to 3000 metres above sea level and drops me down to 1500 to the Lake Atitlán where I´m right now. There´s a huge climb almost every day and with it my body is exposed to a change of temperature of more than 20 degrees Celsius sometimes: On the peaks it´s wintery cold, I´m wearing long pants, T-Shirt, long sleeves, Pullover and down jacket and still shiver. But as soon as I´m back at the bottom of the mountain, just on the other side, I must be careful to not getting burned by the sun. (Today maybe I might not have been careful enough…).

But there´s also the mental up and down: Since I crossed the border I hear people calling me “Gringa”. Gringa here, Gringa there, Gringa shouted at me from adults, children and trees even. Another Italian cyclist once told me that this is not the nicest way to call an US American. So after 2 days I started to feel a bit uncomfortable because wherever I appeared I heard people talking about me by hearing that word. And as the Gringos have plenty of money – that´s just a fact here – I always pay twice, 3 times, 10 times more than the locals do. For fresh orange juice, for apples, for bread, for the entrance to the Maya site… for everything! I can´t help but how can I feel welcome here? I tried but I just couldn´t. Until I decided to give freedom and voice to my inner frustration about this behaviour and to tell 2 teenagers at the gas station. “Oh no!”, they said, “Gringo just means ´tourist´ and most of the time people use it in a very positive way! They are happy that someone from far comes to visit Guatemala and that´s why the shout ´Gringo, Gringo!!´ It´s like giving alarm so that everybody can take notice!” Well, as soon as I heard that I realised, that people mostly have a bright smile on their face when they call me Gringa. And I feel very comfortable with it – peak!

But still I pay a lot more than the locals: valley. And when 2 days ago I urgently needed water people didn’t want to fill up my gallon for a few Quetzales because they think that Gringos must buy the expensive bottles: valley. They sometimes wanted to be payed for a picture I wanted to take of them: valley. But of course: Ther´s still those who treat you as a very welcome guest, try to make your stay as pleasant as possible, give you a lift with their cars when your wheel is broken and even offer you a fresh beer for the ride: peak, peak, peak!

Valley: I imported some extremely aggressive bed bugs in my sleeping-bag from Mexico. They almost kill me at night! My legs are bitten over and over and swollen and just hurt. And one more valley is the fact that yesterday I finished my last good German tube! The valves broke, 2 times, 2 days in a row! Man if only I wouldn´t already know that most of the cheap tubes will break right there with the load I carry! Am I thinking black if expecting a lot of repairs in future? Valley. Definitely!

But tomorrow I will climb up again, don´t worry. Next destination: Guatemala Antigua. More or less 800m of pure and steep uphill is waiting! So, you see, next peak is already to in line. And if the washing saloon did a good job with my sleeping-bag and if I did a good job with the tube-stuff today I will maybe have some peak-feeling in the next days. Let´s hope so!

 

Panajachel (am Lago Atitlán), Guatemala (Zelt auf Zeltplatz)

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Mexico, mi Amor!

Time has come. Time to look back as ahead of me there are only 3 cycling days left for Mexico. So what do say? Let´s go back to California: “Girl, you cannot go to Mexico! A woman travelling alone – they will rob you, rape you, kill you!” Mexico is wild, Mexico is dangerous, Mexico is corrupt, Mexico is not where you want to go! Now close your eyes for a minute and think of all the bad things you can imagine about a country and you will have a light idea of what I did hear before crossing the boarder.

But thank God for my wooden head: I had the time of my life here! Mexico is paradise! Thinking back of the deserts of cactus in the Baja, the beaches and the fresh, green, tropical forests I crossed between Mazatlan and Acapulco and the cute city centres of Mazatlan, Puerto Vallarta or San Cristóbal…it was amazing! But by far not everything that made me feel so, so comfortable here. Next plus point is definitely food! No matter if you eat tacos, tortillas, tortas or burritos on the street or compose your own tortilla with fruit and vegetable from the market – you will always find something your stomach really likes. If only you avoid ordering pasta… let just do the Italians! (or me) And then the little snacks…everywhere…anytime: pineapple, melon, papaya, mango, guayaba, guanabana, bananana and however they are all called… as fruit cocktails, shakes, juices, ice creams. Or right out of the just opened coconut. It´s how I imagine heaven!

And now most interesting, most important: The Mexican. The Mexicans, no matter if man or woman, boy or girl, grandfather or uncle or aunt… all the people along my way they were friendly, hospitable, sunny and shiny and anything but dangerous! All along my way I was always treated like a most welcome guest. And it was their bright smiles, their waving and their whistles – by mouth or by special car horns – that made almost all of my days. Mexican people as I could know them are extremely good buddies with a huge heart and maybe sometimes a bit of a naughty head. But who´s not… I absolutely like them. I liked them all. And some I will definitely not forget and hopefully see again one day.

Mexico is a place where for sure a lot of things still go quite wrong, thinking of only one of them: waste production and waste recycling. But a lot of things still go very right! As they don´t seem to be ruled by their own created rules. If you need help on the street they simply offer you a ride on the back of their pick-ups and don´t hide behind the excuse and rule that this is not safe or that the car is too small. When you´re tired and exhausted from cycling and looking for a Hotel the policemen tell you to go even against the one way as this is the fastest way for you to find rest. And if there are still guests in the restaurant of course you can already pinch your tent on the terrace as long as there is enough space for it. To all the people who do still think with their hearts and put their common sense over impersonal laws: Thank, thank, thank you! Thank you for keeping this world human! Here in Mexico I found that. And I love, love, loved it!

For me Mexico was two months of …well, yes, there was also some cycling. But I´m about to say it was just the background-choir in the song. The front was sung by feelings and emotions, from highly happy to deeply down sometimes, as you always will find them when you approach your own personal limits. But who loves the mountains must also love the valleys. I love the mountains. I love the up-and-downs. I loved Mexico!

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Puerto Escondido

In Puerto Escondido I was invited by Jim to stay for 2 nights and to have a bit of a rest. Well, still there where some things to do: let sew a linen from the fabric I had bought a few days ago, go to the bike shop, wash my cloths, dry the tent, un-smell the air mat and sleeping bag, and of course blog writing. But also there was enough time for a real life: going to the beach with Jim and Davide, having a wonderful evening in the amazing water and the sunset. Cycling back home, having a nice fresh water shower and just sit and wait until Jim and Davide had prepared our dinner. Then watching a movie with tasty hot peppermint tea and honey. In the morning Jim prepared a fabulous omelette with bacon for us. While the humming birds were humming around the little tanks with sugar water in front of almost every window of the light and classy arranged loft-appartement with the beautiful bathtub in the corner – with fish of course!

I had a good time there and want to thank Jim for his amazing hospitality, for pumping up his bike for me and doing the cooking: Salads, omelettes, pancakes and coffees will be unforgotten! Thank you for offering me a home, Jim!

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Acapulco

It´s already 3 days that I´m here in Acapulco and I still don´t feel ready to go back on my bike tomorrow. So much is still undiscovered! For example the thousand little bays and beaches right next to the city centre and all around the “Bahía of Acapulco” with their clear, blue water and the soft sand. But I just didn´t have enough time to see or live them! Because Ana had some other plans with me that were absolutely worth to be seen and visited!

We enjoyed the beautiful evening view from the old Fort, walked up to the famous and legendary “Hotel Mirador” to enjoy the sunset and the incredible jumps into the water which is the unbeaten show of the Hotel since years and years! I could hardly breathe when the joung guys climbed up the rocks, up to a height of 35m above the water, kissing the Madonna for a last time before flying down into the rough water of the Pacific Ocean. It was incredibly impressing! For me these are the true heros of our times!

But not enough: Early the next morning Ana took me on a snorkelling trip with her good friend Ricardo who picked us up with 2 kajaks and showed us around in the amazing water world of Acapulco: We watched the colourful fish, paddled to a romantic little beach and visited the best and most exclusive hotels from their seaside. Moments and impressions I will never forget!

Thank you Ana for your amazing hospitality! And feel welcome to my home whenever you need a place to stay in Germany! Muchisimas gracias!

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We found your keys!

Some kilometres after Puerto Vallarta we – I say „we“ as I am still travelling with Davide the Italian – so we met Holly and Karl from Canada. They are bike touring, too and on their way from Canada to Panama. We already celebrated the day when we first met with 20 bottles of beer and hundreds of little boccadillas in the restaurant called “El Brasil” where we also could camp that night. The next day we travelled all together and as these 2 guys were amazingly fast on their bikes it was them to navigate us to the “points of interest” that day. Which were nothing less than two fabulous beaches: One for lunch and one for a nice shrimp-coconut-pineapple-dinner!

“Unfortunately” the next day they wanted to take it easy and stayed in a nice little town only 20 kilometres after the beach where we spent the night. And I write “unfortunately” in quotation marks because in the end it appeared to be more fortunately than un-fortunately for me! As Davide and I had decided to reach Manzanillo that day we had to hurry up a bit after saying good-bye to Holly and Karl: still 60 kilometres had to be done and it was already early afternoon! So when we had lunch we tried to keep it simple and quick. But of course we didn’t really succeed… We went to the bank, from there to the big Plaza to eat, then to the Oxxo in order to buy a cold coke, to the churros-bank for a mandatory desert and to the local bike shop as Davide needs a new chain. I used that moment for a quick visit of the public bathrooms, knowing that now we really had to speed up a bit if we still wanted to reach the city! So I ran!

We did a good job that afternoon and reached Manzanillo quite on time. After we had checked in at the hotel in the old town I had that nice relaxed feeling of having done well. …until I realised, that forgetting the keys for the bike in a public bathroom in a town which is something like 60k back is not “doing well”!

Adios feeling relaxed: from now on I had to get active again! I first tried to call the local police to ask them if they could give me the number of the police office in that town. To ask them if they can give me the number of the lost-and-found. But that brilliant idea died when nobody in the local police office picked up the phone. And neither when I called the emergency number. So at least we know one thing now: you better not have an accident or emergency here!

Well, next brilliant idea was to call the little supermarket right there at the corner where the public bathrooms were. Or the little bike shop. But no chance to find one of them in internet. The last brilliant idea I could pull out of my tired and exhausted brain was: shower first! And then think again. But the Italian was faster: Why don´t you write Holly and Karl? They tomorrow will come here and they will have to pass that famous public bathroom. No doubt that this was the real and only really brilliant idea in that situation!

We wrote the 2 Canadians and immediately received their answer: of course we will see if we can find your keys tomorrow. Now slowly, slowly the relaxed feeling came back. But it was only complete again when this morning I got a message from Holly: Hey Angela, we found your keys!

Man, Holly and Karl, I thank you so, so much! And Davide, too for the brilliant idea of course. So the today´s blog is dedicated to you guys! And I just wish you will always find a helping hand, too whenever you need one!

 

Manzanillo, Mexiko (Hotel San Jose, mit Davide)

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241_Kackadies

Since more or less one week I´m travelling with Davide, the Italian. And still we didn´t argue. Or…let´s say: we almost didn´t! Well, no, let´s say that yesterday doesn´t count. So we didn´t!

He actually would be a bit faster than me. But he acts like a real gentleman and most of the time stays behind me so that I can go by my own pace. But still I sometimes feel like I should force myself so that we don´t move too slowly. Like yesterday: We had the idea of staying on the beach of “Punta Mita” that night. And although that idea was something like 100km away from the point where we had left in the morning I had decided to make it! Until the back tyre of Davide´s bike had decided to have a better idea…

When the whole in the tyre was big enough to already let exit some liquid we had to stop and think of another plan – 16km before reaching “Punta Mita”. Maybe he could still have made it. But maybe not. In the end we followed an old, tanned, Canadian half-local who spends his winters here in Mexico and who had told Davide to bring him to a nice and close place where we would be safe at night. After only 200m we left the paved street and ended up pushing the bikes on a narrow, sandy, rough and steep foot path through the Mexican Jungle, crossing dry palm leaves and millions of thorns and spikes. I started to boil! Because none of the 2 gentlemen had answered my questions when I wanted to know where we were about to go! The just ignored me and kept on going…

Well, ok, I can do that, too! When we finally arrived I threw my tent into the sand and started to prepare for at least a nice bath in female isolation. I was so angry! The whole day I had fought against my own limits, pulling the last few Joules of energy out of my tired muscles for what? For exhausting them for “an adventure”? Adventure, adventure, why do they always need adventure? I just want to live my idea of a simple life! That was what I had in my mind. But I didn´t say a word and started to run away towards the water… when Davide grapped my hand and asked: “Oh, but can you tell me what I did do to you?” I could! I could tell him everything, believe me! I told him about my limits and the way he was exhausting me. And that I trusted him. But he, what did he do for me? Bringing me to this place here? I pointed towards the beach. And he started laughing: “Well, you can´t say that this isn´t a real paradise here!”

True. (Un-)fortunately.

 

Puerto Vallarta, Mexiko (Hotel mit Davide)

Tages-Km: 64,34km / -Zeit: 3:59h / -Höhenmeter: 463m

Gesamt-Km: 14.684km / -Zeit: 999:40h / -Höhenmeter: 130.988m

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