Galeria 23 (Canada)  -  Circulo Ártico (video)  - Caminos Alaska (Video)  -  Recepción (Video)

 
Wednesday October 15th of 2008, with 264 days traveling, almost 80,000 kilometers through the American continent which is the equivalent of going around the world twice, eighteen thousand (18,000) liters of gasoline both cheap and expensive, 36 border crossing proceedings, twenty thousand (20,000) pictures taken of almost 200 towns and cities visited, and with many more statistics that for the moment escape my mind, RoverTa crosses the border in Nogales, AZ, to set foot on her home, her city from which she left 9 months back destined to return; at 18:20 hrs. she is greeted by the City Mayor, friends, family, firefighters, policemen, the press, among many others in the Flags Plaza in Nogales, Sonora, Mexico.

Today in the quiet setting of my home, which after a week I still have trouble getting used to, it seems incredible to see some many pictures of places that I only knew from magazines or the television, and to think that RoverTa took me there so that I see them in person. It seems unbelievable that I crossed the Amazon, the Andes, the South Pole, the Arctic Circle, thousands of kilometers without pavement, cold nights of -20 degrees Celsius and hot days of up to 45 degrees, mosquitoes, wolves, borders, historic places, wonders of the world, tribes, neighborhoods, jungles, deserts, mountains, rivers, volcanoes, channels. It seems incredible that RoverTa was able to do it when I see her so quiet parked in her house; I also can’t believe that in addition to all these pictures everything is in my memory and my heart has a space for all the people who participated in this ambitious adventure.

The City Mayor, Marco A. Martinez, gave us the keys to the city; he never forgot about us and he helped us financially so that we could get here with a little more meat on our bones. Thank you very much! It is a great honor to receive them in the setting of a city festival, northern country music, a parade with baton twirlers and marching band; a great event that was planned for us and made us feel very happy and even more so because in the crowd you could find the faces of our loved ones, friends and acquaintances. The following days were of interviews, radio, television, pictures in every spot of the city where someone recognized RoverTa the hero, weekend of conferences in Hermosillo, Sonora, where I continued what I felt was the essence of the trip, meet nice people and make close friendships who you miss the moment you say goodbye but now with the great advantage that they are only 3 hours away and not thousands of kilometers like the rest of our other friends. We returned to the normal life and I am now lost in my thoughts as usual but immobile and in my hometown.

It seems life hasn’t changed, I feel the world moving forward and restricting me to do new things because I feel it will leave me behind; the same conversations, the same life, identical routines, I get barked at by the same dogs that did so when we left, as if life entered into a freezer in our absence and everything is the same except for some changes in the city infrastructure and a psychosis in the people living here because you cannot find positive stories in the press lately because there is no room for them, or so it seems. Nothing has changed, but what about us! How much have we changed?

I remember that leaving Anchorage, Alaska, I had in my mind how wonderful the southern part of this state is. After so many lakes, glaciers, the fall colors that never ceased to amaze me, I felt the desire to return one day and practice extreme sports because the options for activities are endless. A state with little population and very quiet compared to the rest of the country; of course the prices are higher as well. After 100 normal kilometers the snow was waiting for me again but now in Polar amounts, since between Alaska and Canada we drove almost 900 kilometers in snowy roads, which gave me a severe back pain and eye strain because of all the tension while driving, so here my thoughts changed and again came the anxiety of getting home, the exasperation of asking for the snow to suddenly stop so that I could feel safe territory again and free of risks for the safe return to our Mexico.

I entered the Canadian Yukon again, we had to cross in order to reach the British Columbia which in turn would need to be crossed making a stop in Vancouver, take pictures and return to the USA. During all these moments where there was hardly any contact with people the recurrent thought in my mind was that I was headed towards the end of the adventure and that almost nine months of unexpected events would end soon. This made me realize that what I would miss the most would be not being able to tell stories and that there would be no more world to know and show it to you with words and pictures. But I think that I still have lots to talk about, and when I run out of anecdotes, I will begin a new trip so that we can continue discovering the world together, so that we can continue discovering the people, the countries, landscapes and customs.

Thanks to America and its inhabitants who allowed us to get home in one piece, thanks to every one of the people who offered me their friendship, their care, to those who robbed their bank account so they could drive me when it was necessary, thanks to those who posted things on the website for so long because they were fuel for my soul in countless occasions, thanks to those who included me in their prayers, thanks to the ones who inspired me and motivated to continue, thanks to those who never told me to go back (I wouldn’t have done it), thanks to the love that moved me nonstop, thanks to those who shared this dream, thanks to RoverTa who lost several parts and even her vanity in order to fulfill what seemed so complicated. Thanks to everybody.

On the next chronicle our pass towards Mexico through the West of the continent: Vancouver, Oregon, California with stops in San Francisco and Los Angeles, Arizona with stops in Phoenix and Tucson.

Galeria 22 (USA – Canada)

RoverTa has stopped her legs……. She has turned her high heels, with a bleeding mouth like Jose Alfredo’s white horse, towards the warmth of her home land, with the memories and the melancholy of everything that has passed before, proud of having ridden the entire continent and even though from the start her final destination was always Nogales, after so many months she realizes that in fact in only a couple of days she will cross the border of her town, so the anxiety makes her heart beat stronger.

Spring went by while we were crossing the southern US. Autumn received us in the Northeast and Canada, and as if it were a date where one should be there on time we arrive to the Arctic Circle in Alaska on the day of the first winter snow storm. The road had been long, for days we had been sleeping in places where the pine trees could protect us from the weather, with some wolves that every day sang to us in our sleep or didn’t let us come down from the tent, even though they smelled Roverta’s legs to recognize her, so between buffaloes and bears who came to see and check out the foreigners on their land, at last we slept comfortably under the parking lot lights of a Wal-Mart in Fairbanks Alaska to continue the next day and return to the inhospitable and reach the North of the world.

There are one thousand miles back and forth from Fairbanks to Prudhoe Bay, where only the first 70 miles give a breath of tranquility because there is pavement, which gets very complicated with the snow! I was later wishing for the dirt road because Roverta’s high-heel shoes have a better grip; some of the trucks carrying oil or supplies waved at us greeting the strangers on the tundra territory. The color of the sky is different, the sun is always on the south rising on the southeast and taking a ride towards the southwest never reaching a middle point in the sky. With additional gasoline on the roof, water, charged batteries for the equipment and a small engine oil leak we reach the Arctic Circle after eight months, 20 hours and 28 minutes since the moment we left from Pirinola Hill in Nogales, Sonora.

The sky ceases to send us the white storm and the stars come out, an excellent opportunity to see the aurora borealis or “northern lights” and have this daring feat rewarded with such a marvelous celestial event; we waited even with the howling of the wolves close to us but it never came to our unscheduled visit. We spent the night at -17 degrees Celsius, which according to the local folks is not that cold and we should feel lucky for having a favorable weather for this time of year. The water inside the car and all the liquids and medications have frozen, even the car’s CD player is having trouble to sing us a melody. We were looking forward to seeing the Arctic Ocean but we couldn’t because due to the weather we weren’t allowed to pass even though we insisted.

Never before had I felt anxious to get home, never before had so many memories come to my mind, never before had I been afraid in a difficult time, that day everything was part of the landscape and the bad weather was making things worse. Being isolated by days we knew that if something happened over there no one would find us quickly and we were worried about not being able to send life signals to the south towards where the sun always tries to keep us a little warm.

We have arrived at Anchorage, the state capital of Alaska. We crossed the tundra, the snow storms, the Denali and 800 miles of roads. The desolated landscapes and Northern plains had only changed to snowy mountains; at last the cell phone rings telling us that we have a signal, that we are once again in civilized territory.

We must leave Alaska and we believe that by mid-October we should be back home.

Goodbye and until next time when America allows us to meet again.

Galeria 21 (USA – Canada)

The mechanical faults happened on the East coast; maybe they were not willing to present themselves on the lonely roads of Lewis and Clark or in the faraway Yukon or the deserted Arctic Circle. Several surgical interventions were necessary so that RoverTa could continue her march feeling like new, the way she was accustomed to; by the way she also looks fine with her new look of reinforced suspension and new tires (F) thanks to some sponsors. Now with more robust airs and that adventurous look, she readies herself with her best condition to reach the North Pole, and from there to go back home.

Still with the fear of another mechanical fault, my ears were looking for any strange noise; the radio was in low volume to identify any unfamiliar thing that could appear. I traveled this way for many kilometers until I regained the trust again in the vehicle; the paranoia was gone and again with music in the car, seeing the future through the windshield and the past through the rear view mirror, the march wouldn’t stop until I reached my final destination.

A few miles before reaching Boston there was a noise like the humming wind, I didn’t imagine that it could be related with a mechanical problem. Later on the dashboard the light of the transmission temperature came on, something that had never happened before; I knew that the light existed because the manual mentioned it. I stop on the side of the road to check underneath and see if I could find something; I see oil around the transfer but it doesn’t leak! After half an hour I start the car again and the temperature light had turned off. We reach Boston calmly, a 3 day stay and on the way to Vermont again the same symptoms. The oil level was low and I filled it to its normal level.

In Vermont there is Rovers North one of the biggest distributors of original Land Rover parts in the USA, and oddly enough in Peru on the road to Machu Picchu I met Andrea (F), who is the owner of such a successful company, so in this leg towards Canada the idea was to stop and say hi. They gave me a warm welcome (F) and gave me a new “heavy duty” suspension for free and they also installed it, this because with so much weight I carry, the back-side airbags were not working and the springs I had installed were not for rough terrains which made the car look too short for the territory that awaits. After the installation they completely checked the car and there was no apparent fault, only the small noise coming from the transfer but they told me that I was going to be fine.

And now finally, the last country to visit, Canada. A quiet border (F), only one car ahead of me to cross the line, routine questions and without checking the car everything was set to head towards Québec. All the road signs in French; restaurant menus, gas stations, everything in this Napoleonic language. The afternoon color, the highway, the constructions and what I said earlier made me feel in Europe, even though I’ve never been there. It was a unique feeling for the first time on the entire trip; I could smell kindness and a calm atmosphere.

With a full gas tank I crossed into Canada, and it was enough to reach Québec, where after seeing the gas prices to fill it up again, my calm was the one that disappeared, prices of almost 6 dollars per gallon; after that, and little by little, I discovered the beauty of the city and how expensive it was as well. Castles in the middle of the city (F), and from the highway I could see many more on the outskirts, churches (F) and buildings that seemed from the middle ages, all made of stone and with animal skins for sale hanging from the windows in downtown (F). The surroundings are entirely different, modern-day buildings where there seemed to be no people, as if no one else lived there (F). Could it be that because of the arriving winter many people move to other places? The center is filled with tourists (F), but the neighborhoods seem abandoned.

The road now pointed to the Niagara Falls, going through Montreal and Toronto, places where we were only passing by because the weather was still bad alongside the whole East coast of the USA, and with that same rainy weather Niagara was now under RoverTa’s tires. This time we didn’t want the weather to stop us (F) from admiring such a marvelous natural scenery (F), and it looked like thousands of tourists thought the same way as they were walking on a Saturday afternoon admiring the falls under their umbrellas or wrapped in plastic to stay dry. This is a city that lives from tourism, with 3 taxes for each item one buys or for each time one eats at some place, making it more expensive than the rest of the country, which is already expensive to begin with. A common meal can cost up to forty percent more of its value when you add up the 3 taxes plus the tip. On a side note, beer is not sold in every place, not even in Wal-Mart; you can only buy such famous liquid in the so-called “Beer Stores” that are like the Mexican liquor stores, and a 12-pack of Corona is worth $35 dollars, so drinking in this country is a very expensive luxury.

The next day, the sun finally came out, so the chance to take pictures with good colors had arrived (F), once again I walked by the place and then to the US side to take pictures from other angles (F) , and unlike in Canada here one is on top of the falls (F) and in the neighboring country you can see them up front (F); and there is another incredible difference, Niagara Canada could look like a small Las Vegas, with casinos, big hotels (F), famous restaurants and Niagara USA is a ghost town (F) where you can find the poverty of the most powerful country in the world.

The road awaits for us and the next destination was none other than the North Pole, and for this it was necessary to cross the whole continent going West, up to Alaska with a 4-hour difference in the time zone, but before that we had to round the great lakes to return to the maple leaf country and passing through Ohio again the car failed but this time it was a done deal, the transfer had burned!

The budget was limited, the fault was big, the options were repair it and go home from there or pay no attention to these obstacles that seemed like they were determined to not let us reach the end and continue to trust in luck and in the good will of friends and acquaintances. A little repair shop in Ashtabula, OH, that like a thing of fate stood right where the car stopped; in Ken’s auto repair (F) they took the case as if they were responsible for completing this mission, they looked for the transfer, they had it sent (I don’t know form where!), they installed it (F) and they checked every screw in the car (F), with such emotion and dedication that it was amazing to watch. On top of that, they let me use a pick-up truck so that I could move around town those days during the surgery; I lived for almost a week in a 32-foot boat (F) that the owner had on the river, and I’m not going to lie, I rested, slept properly and took a bath every day. We came out like new from that place with new friends (F), good memories from the kindness in the Northern US, recommendations and an 1892 one dollar coin in my pocket given to me by Derik, one of the mechanics go gave it to me for luck so that I can finish the adventure successfully; the best part about this coin is that his grandfather gave it to him 20 years ago and he is only 22.

The old west was waiting for us before the Rocky Mountains, and no two things are more similar to Patagonia in Argentina than Montana and the state of Alberta Canada, the topography is identical to the south of the world (F), with the Pacific Andes in the south and to east the great pampas, and here up north with the Rockies on the Pacific side and the great plains (F) to the east of them; I was amazed at how similar they are, with the big difference of the paved roads. The roads (F)  of Lewis and Clark were now behind leaving me with the memory of the worst electric storm I had seen in my life, now the mountains await as an obstacle to cross into Alaska, I have to go alongside them from south to north and cross them from east to west.

Calgary and Edmonton are only a bearing point on the map and we go deeper into the British Columbia and Yukon territories, and on the latter you can feel the loneliness, thousands of kilometers without cities in sight and only little towns with 2 or 3 houses where you can find gasoline but with prices of up to seven dollars per gallon. The weather is against us once again, and this makes me sad because I have a great desire to take pictures of one of the best sceneries in the world; I reach the halfway point, in Dawson Creek begins the famous Alaska Highway (F), after a couple of hours the sun shines again and follows me for two straight days. Each kilometer is a picture (F), every instant is beautiful, lakes (F) , mountains (F), wildlife (F), snowy peaks (F), the beautiful colors of autumn are present in every corner, incredible!

Three days were required to reach Alaska from Montana, a road filled with turns (F), narrow highways (F) , almost no civilization and terrible cold weather; during the mornings when I closed the tent (F)  it was necessary to warm my hands in the car’s exhaust every couple of minutes to continue working, and not even the extreme-weather sleeping bags gave me the necessary shelter against this incredible cold, for moments even with gloves my fingertips were aching incredibly when I was doing the morning chores before leaving the place where I had slept.

The Arctic Circle waits for us with unfriendly roads, and we are preparing to face it.

Goodbye and until next time when America allows us to meet again.
 

Gallery 18 (Miami – Washington DC) Gallery 19 (New York) Gallery 20 (Boston – Canada)

I have crossed the border from Mexico to the USA and the border with Canada; the East coast of the United States is behind me, leaves fall from the trees and you can smell winter in the air; there are temperatures of 7oC and I think I didn’t arrive in time to see the summer, the winter will accompany me even though the plan was to go up before it came because of the extreme conditions that can come with it; almost 10,000km will be needed to travel from Québec to see the North Pole in the West, the highest point you can reach by car, Prudhoe Bay, Alaska.

The beard and the hair have grown, the belly has shrunken, the kilometers on the car continue to pile up and RoverTa is beginning to look tired. Four mechanical faults only in this period of time (suspension, alternator, battery and transfer) on the best highways in the continent, maybe she relaxed too much or it is just that these terrains are not for her, or the fatigue is also showing up on this brave traveler. The trip continues to be a total extreme, marveled by what I see and worried when I think of the money I need to go back home!

Esteban Quijano (Villahermosa), Manuel Molera (Arizona), Erick Montaños (Arizona) Mariela (Texas), Santiago (Miami), Jorge Valdez (Miami) , Rodrigo (Washington DC), Rogelio Perea (NY), Rovers North (Vermont) and the City Council of Nogales, these friends have me here in the North, they have supported me with their friendship, economically, morally and spiritually. Each one of them has a story in this trip, one that I will talk about in the future. Until today I have travelled more than 60,000km in the last 7 months, a trip that was forecasted to be completed in six, there are still at least 20,000km left and I have to make it before October because Alaska can get complicated as the winter moves on.

It was a dream to travel around the world to take pictures of it, to get to know it, to taste it, to talk about it. I haven’t written things on the site for a while, time has disappeared, it has vanished like in the everyday life of the city I tried to escape from, worries catch up with me and problems are harder to solve from a distance; at times what looked like a trip of adventure and pleasure, is now a game of survival and readiness to solve both worlds, the one on the road and the one back home. And besides all that I need time to observe, to get to know and tell you about things through my eyes about the world on the other side of our window.

San Antonio, New Orleans, Miami, Washington DC, New York, Boston, Vermont, Québec Canada, those are the destinations that kept me absent from this virtual space, with lots of things to talk about and to show you about them there will be chronicles coming from every specific site with their respective main characters.

The car is broken, the transfer will need a replacement, a costly repair that has to be made for the trip to continue; the budget was forecasted to last so that I could reach Alaska thanks to the help of my friend Esteban, now everything changes; now RoverTa has to be in optimum conditions before thinking of the next destination, and again I can’t stop thinking about the winter in the North Pole, even before thinking about finding sponsors to continue.

For many readers it will seem rather incredible to see how a traveler with an adventure of this magnitude and such a long distance travels without monetary resources! In the beginning the challenge was planned in a different way, the car was equipped with support from our friends at Alex Tires in Nogales, AZ, and from Expeditioneers in Phoenix, and economic sponsorship was also found from several companies to make the trip possible, and so with this settled nothing more was required for the feat, but since plans always change, the economic support was the one that failed, it never arrived! This gave the project a different touch, now it was not only about traveling and gathering stories, now it was about finding a way to survive in unknown places, to sleep where it looked safe, and to continue so that one day all this could come to an end and the first trip around the continent by car could be completed.

The most common fears of any person have been experienced: not having something to eat, not having a place to sleep, not having money, being lost, not having a house, living by asking for favors, thoughts that if we put them in the mind in any normal situation could terrify any of us and make the world come tumbling down on us, now experiencing them all at once is even more complicated. In the real world, if we can call it this way, there comes a point where there are no more options, those problems are all there waiting in line for me, I treat them as if I don’t care looking for a solution and surprisingly there is always a way or a person that will help us, there will always be a solution for a problem and it is then when the small things we have every day that we see as normal gain and immense and immeasurable value.

The best part of the continent is definitely the human warmth and caring, the new friends and the new families; they have made possible the telling of this story until today. Those people that have given me their love, their home, that have invited me to their table, they are part of this feat, they drive it from any place I arrive to and I know that they will take me back to Nogales.

I’ll see you soon with the pending chronicles and lots and lots of new pictures from North-America.

Travels instruct, so they say lots of books and people; travels give you a lot, but they also take something away, they separate the person from the social, professional and family circles and other small circles are made in different places, and sadly one cannot make them bigger; traveling fills you with memories, experiences and loneliness, lots of stories to tell, lots more to omit, and other to erase, the ones behind the real life. Traveling like this is a fantasy and living in it is incredible, some admire it, some criticize it and I just survive, for some an irresponsible, for others a good example and I just survive. I know my world and feel the strong change this beautiful continent has made in me.

Mexico, missed for so long, receives me just like before, nothing has changed, all is the same and that is the good thing about it, just the fact of being in my country, even in cities and roads I’ve never been on, makes me feel comfortable, safe, as if nothing will happen to me. Why? Because I’m home, even though I have been away for so long and lost contact with television and news agencies, so I don’t know what is happening with my country, but everything looks as I was wishing it to be.

Our food, culture, customs, colors, traditions and our attitude as Mexicans makes it really hard not to miss the land, a country with almost everything including the most expensive toll highways and after Colombia the one with the most military posts on the roads, and even after that it looks beautiful to me; I don’t think I will ever complain about my country again, it gives us everything, and because we are used to having it we lose the sense of its value, and like a song from the Yonic’s used to say, nobody knows what they have or what they want until they lose it.

Again on the radio there are stations with “grupera” music, and even though I accept it is not my favorite kind of music it brings back memories, it tastes like my culture; and incredible change on the road accompanies these songs, four lanes and finally one can drive faster and even though it is dark I don’t feel scared nor tired to continue on the trip from Tapachula to Cancún to begin in the Mayan Riviera my way up to Québec, Canadá, and then really wander through harsh roads, and an important thing to add: unlike Chile, we have the best highways with an added plus, we have the option of toll-free roads something you can’t find in all the other places; in the rest of the continent either you pay or you don’t travel.

I spend the first night in Chiapas alongside the highway and at sunrise without much rest I continue the trip up to the Caribbean beaches, and so on the next night Cancun appears, the first city where I will stay after yearning for such a return, and to my surprise in Cancun I forgot that I was in Mexico and continued to feel like a foreigner until I remembered that this beautiful, advanced and expensive city is in my country. Impressive constructions, world-class hotels, shopping malls, restaurants, a world of fantasy for all ages. It’s not Disney! It’s not Las Vegas! It’s Cancun, Quintana Roo…

Chichen Itza (F) while passing through Yucatan (F), as a marvel of the world, Tulum (F) and the best beaches I have seen on the entire trip, a sea of an amazing blue (F), white sands (F), beautiful sunsets, lots of tourists and a strong heat. Now, without any real sense of urgency I travel along the coast of the Gulf of Mexico enjoying the scenery, the afternoons (F) and chatting in every military road post that I encounter on the road, most of them kind but I waste a lot of time in them. Villahermosa, Tabasco awaits along with and old good friend, Esteban Quijano whom I met in the time of Internet businesses some years back when we thought that everyone who got into the .com craze would get rich overnight, and as we know now in time that didn’t happen. I am welcome in his house with all the attentions and believe it or not up to that moment I hadn’t eaten tacos yet so our first stop to talk was in a popular taco place (F).

A party to celebrate his girlfriend’s birthday on Sunday at noon (F), some beers, seafood, dance music aaaah how I missed a party like this one, good friends of Esteban who ended up being my friends arrived, like Pedro Agüera, from Mexico City and Alejandro Llaneza from Argentina, who passionately helped the xAmerica project in an incredible way by coordinating interviews with the written press and T.V. in Villahermosa, Tabasco and in Coatzacoalcos, Veracruz (TVT, Televisión Olmeca and El Heraldo “daily”) (F) and if that wasn’t enough I reach Coatzacoalcos and one of his friends, Luís Zaldivar, receives me and takes me to travel around the city (F), to eat, to the television station and as you can see my road through Mexico continues to be an extraordinary one. We enjoyed traditional meals, walked on the pier with the sun hitting hard (F) but even with that we got to know this Veracruzan port before heading on to Catemaco.

Catemaco, Veracruz is known in all of Mexico and maybe by many foreigners as the place of magic, both white and black, as the place of wizards and witches. Upon arrival I see it in my mind but I concentrate more in taking pictures of the town, its lake (F), the colorful shops along the streets (F), the little fishing boats and I get to taste the Tegogolos (F), snails that live in the lake; I have some with chipotle in corn tortillas. After such a good meal on the street a couple reaches me leaving me instructions about what to see in town; they were tourist guides. We kept talking and I learned about local stories, the history of the old rich families that I really don’t remember all that well because the chain involved lots of names that my mind began to mix-up with some many intertwined stories.

White magic wizard he called himself and his wife a devote follower of these kinds of magical Powers, they invite me to camp in their backyard and even though I resist a little because I had already made a deal in a local hotel that would let me camp near the lake and enjoy a cool night. I end up sharing stories, dinner and cups of coffee with some drops that would protect me against any black magic that someone could try to wish me by way of food (F). Tacos for dinner that they invite me along with their 3 sons (F) and lots and lots of explanations about how witchcraft and energies work, and speaking of which I am told that Catemaco is the world’s center of energy! The talk went on and on, they make a prayer for me so that the trip is successful, I pray with them, and now they explain the power of the herbs and they give me more potions now for insomnia so that I can sleep well without worries. I was getting sleepy and they kept talking! So I had to excuse myself and leave to the tent in my car with them still wanting to talk; at the end we agreed that the next day we would go to a waterfall where he usually makes “detachments” and cleansings. So it happened, the next morning, they didn’t take long to give me breakfast with the early mist and invite me to this beautiful waterfall where there is a fountain of gasified mineral water (F), which I tasted over and over; of course there had to be more drops that would protect me from more things. I observe the cleansing he does on his wife (F), they explain me the process and I say goodbye to them to travel now to Veracruz. By the way, they also took me to meet another wizard (F) who prays for the holy death.

With my mind filled with horror stories, energies, and my belly filled with several potions for my wellbeing (now I suppose that I can eat anything!), mi trip to Veracruz continues, where again a friend of a friend is waiting for me, in this case Mario Gordillo, friend of Esteban Quijano in Villahermosa.

Before doing anything I go directly to Land Rover Veracruz (F) to see its Director Leopoldo Buchanan, a man with a passion for adventure and motorcycles who treated me incredibly, and supporting my Project the car enters his shop to receive maintenance service (F), repair faulty issues and many more things, leaving Rover-ta like new and with a few years less so that she can have the pleasure of seeing Alaska and return home (F). Many thanks to Polo and to Land Rover.

Mario receives me in his apartment, on the famous and historical port of Veracruz, the one that won many battles, where you can find the first Light tower in America, where everything started for this beautiful continent. We walk around its boulevards (F), on the pier, we remember the history of San Juan de Ulua (F), feeling the cold and the fear when you see the ancient prisons in that place (F), we had lunch and I enjoyed some calm days in this beautiful city which is also both modern and classic at the same time. Mario (F) also helped me with my visit to the Dictamen (F) the first newspaper in the continent so they tell me, were they kindly published a note about the trip on Monday when I left the city, which by the way is the first time I can bring with me the newspaper where they talk about me, because most of the time the news come out when I have already left town, and this time an employee in a toll both says to me “are you the one who went to Argentina?”, a question that surprises me and he gives me the newspaper so that I can have it a souvenir. I leave Veracruz towards Reynosa Tamaulipas but not before being vaccinated (“being asked for a drink” as we say in Mexico) by the port’s transit police; I had a clean record in Mexico, but I couldn’t make it out intact. After that as if bad luck is on my side I get asked again for “a drink” in Monterrey, Nuevo León, where obviously I had to kindly cooperate. Mario continues to support me from Veracruz looking for media that can give a space to this adventure and with the website hosting.

In Reynosa, Tamaulipas, my family on my mother’s side (F) is waiting for me; my grandmother, aunts, uncles, cousins and my mother fly from Sonora to Monterrey to greet me, and for that I make a small trip to the airport and I come back quickly to Reynosa, on the border with Texas. Great Mexican food waits on the table for me, and some nice cold beers with my uncle Javier, Light beers as a matter of fact to maintain my slender figure. Family reunion that was many years in the making, a visit from my family in Texas, Mariela and Adriana, and with everybody gathered we decided to celebrate such a lucky encounter, buried cabrito (F), barbeque (F), and more beer; such delicious food was prepared by my aunts Rosy and Miriam along with my grandmother Maria, a little smoked from the fire but happy to make it, and my mother was only enjoying the family reunion (F) with a smile on her face. From Monday night until Friday I stayed with them, and there was always an advice for the care I should have on the rest of the trip, blessings and so much more. Uncle Javier helped me to check the car, and even though it had been checked by Land Rover we still needed to make some changes and corrective service and after those were made, can you believe it, we had some more beers with some friends (F) and my other uncle, Beto!

Incredible days in México, delicious food, tacos, barbeque, spicy food and now I prepare myself for the country with the biggest highway infrastructure in the continent so I’m ready for the USA border.

Right now I am in Miami, soon I will tell you about my trip thru the United States.

I like the smell that morning brings, I like the first sip of coffee, to feel when the sun shines through my window and fills my sights with a beautiful sunrise… nice Colombian vallenato that makes me feel that country every time I hear it, and my mind is filled with memories.

Cartagena, Colombia, the South American odyssey to send the car back to Central America, to Panama to be precise. The Pan-American Highway that covers the entire continent from Alaska to the Patagonia is only interrupted in one part of America, between Colombia and Panama; between these two countries there are no highways and there haven’t been, and because of that the only way to cross to the other sub-continent is by using some sort of maritime transportation.

Monday morning and I reach Cartagena de Indias again, a very nice city, with the old walled (F) quarter and built by the same architect who designed the old Panama city. Beaches, modern buildings on the other side (F), the Colombian city with most tourist attractions and maybe the most expensive one. Besides the beautiful architectures there were also long procedures waiting for me to export the car; first I needed to find a shipping company who had a boat that was leaving soon to the north, then I had to make all the customs procedures which were simple really but overwhelming: 3 days to obtain all the paperwork, the anti-narcotics revisions and the customs ones. All in all I stayed 2 weeks in Cartagena, one of those only waiting and the other one in said procedures.

Colombia fills my senses and always amazes me, from trees that fall on the road causing nice surprises to friends that will stay with me forever (F). Upon my arrival an angel gave me company, gave me hope, strength, dreams and desire to continue north. Now I hope this angel can stay with me to end, whispering words of support to my ear.

The surprises continued and they made the procedures easier to swallow. Paolo, Luisa, Juan Pablo, and Juliana welcomed me and included me among their friends in Cartagena (F), always with an invitation for me, either for an activity, dinner or simply to enjoy a cold beer. Paolo, “Chilean” with the soul of a jipié (F), and his Colombian wife Luisa (F), with the will of a leader, Juan Pablo (F) from Cali with an adventurous spirit and maybe a future travel companion and Juliana from Cartagena (F) with always a smile on her face and injecting joy to the group of friends; warm, kind, always willing to help. Nights in Santo Domingo  (F) Square, jazz concerts and beers in the park  (F), just like in Sonora, as simple as finding a place to park the car, turn on the music and drink among friends talking about our lives and passions.

Weekend with the new friends and it is time to cook (F). Something Mexican that surprises their senses, what could it be? Of course it has to be spicy so they feel the taste of Mexico! Salmon with spinach and habanero cream, quesadillas, guacamole and steak (F). A few red faces because the chile is not part of their everyday menu, other amazed with the guacamole and the delicious quesadillas that are so easy to make. We end the day in the newlyweds’ apartment pool, those being Luisa and Paolo (F).  

Wednesday of the second week in Cartagena, at last, all the paperwork for the car is ready and all set to travel without me through the Caribbean seas to Panama. The car would reach the port of Manzanillo on Saturday, but it would leave the dock until Monday, so on Thursday when I was sure that the car was on its way, I spend the night in Paolo and Luisa’s house and wait for Friday morning to take the flight. After traveling for so long and being always in different places every day, without course, without bearings, for a moment one forgets the calm that comes with visiting a common place, and this is what I felt in Colombia: a familiar place and something that my mind recognizes after so many kilometers on the road causing me a sad and beautiful nostalgia while I fly back to Panama to reunite with my travel and adventure companion.

Friday morning and in one hour I am in a different place, I am in Central America again (F), and now what? Procedures to take out the car! I do what I can to have everything ready for Monday and everything turns out to be easy because the people knew me from when I was going south. Evelyn from the shipping company who always made more than she had to in order to help and the very kind Mrs. Aleida from Panama Customs helped so that the procedures only took a couple of hours. I look for a cheap hotel to spend the weekend walking around the center of the city when the rain comes again. It didn’t abandon me since Northeast Brazil, and since then it was part of my everyday life. Soaking wet I find a hotel for a good price that had parking space, necessary for that day when I would receive the car, although when I asked at the front desk if they had parking space I caused a couple of smiles in the employees who saw me arriving on foot and looking like a bum.

Aleida, who hasn’t stopped worrying about the trip and always writes on the website, receives me with her family and they include me as another member. She recommends me with her daughter’s husband, Melquíades, on Saturday morning so that he can show me the city; he turned out to be a real connoisseur of the Panamanian history and he explained me the country in detail and made me understand it and see it with a bigger emotion, aaah and at last I know who Morgan the Pirate was, I only knew the Mexican wrestler and my friend Ricardo; it turns out this pirate burned the city in the XV century so that he could steal the gold. The city was completely destroyed and had to be rebuilt to almost identical what it was before in what is now the old Panama quarter (F).

I accompany Mel on his work day Saturday, and while he worked he told me about history, about how good his work on the street is, and he showed me every place in detail. At night at his mother in law’s house there was a meal being prepared for the traveler: patacón, sautéed meat and chicken (F), and there I had the privilege of meeting Mrs. Aleida’s family, her sons and grandsons; by the way her son Aurelio, who is a colleague of mine, had tires the same size as my car, and I was incredibly happy to hear that he would give me one, since I am traveling without a spare tire from Patagonia in Argentina because I couldn’t find one in size “R18” and here by chance there were 3 at my disposal, but I only needed one. Great dinner, nice talk and the affection that the family showed me without knowing me that well, without knowing who I was, compensated the weariness I was feeling.

Everyone I have been fortunate to meet during this trip, they all commonly make my day and they make me feel both nostalgia and happiness. They have made possible for this trip to still have a story to tell, they may not know me but they help me in every way possible, they motivate me, cheer me and make me discover other facets, thanks to each and every one of you.

Another goodbye, now from this great Panamanian family, a goodbye with tears and words I still remember, I know that now I am not a traveler for them, but another member of the family (F).

Central America awaits, with the car again with me after missing us for 4 days we are ready to cross it with my angel by my side. The adventure to see Mexican territory begins. Costa Rica and its beaches Manuel Antonio and El Tamarindo(F) (F) see us pass again, the old city of Granada Nicaragua, although Honduras takes only about 130 km. to cross it, the car procedure is the most expensive, 40 dollars plus the tourist fare. In El Salvador, even though it is not recommended to travel through it by night, I do it because of the impatience of reaching Aztec territory soon; no delays, and a surprise with the good state of the roads and the free highway around the capital. Guatemala is the last temporary importation procedure of the car, at last, no more paperwork, from now on I can enter freely to the remaining countries, but since goodbyes have to be good ones, when I reach the border Saturday night I’m told that I can’t enter with the car because the bank is closed and the customs office doesn’t receive payments, and this time no words and no experience asking for favors were effective to convince the customs officer to accept the payment, leaving me no option but to wait. The tent goes up between Guatemala and El Salvador to spend the night. Old Guatemala (F) this beautiful colonial city says goodbye with lots of rain and good moments.

Mexico before my eyes, and although my eyes are tired because I once again reached the border at night, they magically open wide just by thinking that my country awaits after almost six months; tacos, tortas, tostadas, tamales and gorditas appear in my mind. At midnight in the customs office they receive me in the same place where I left, with a seal dated on July 22nd of 2008 I enter into Mexico again and I stop being a foreigner to turn into a Mexican again, with the same car, less weight, 50,000 kilometers on the road but with lots of good memories, love and close friendships.

Goodbye, and until next time when America allows us to meet again.

Persistent rain on the road towards Maracaibo, the last stop on Venezuela, and it is impossible to see beyond 5 meters due to the amount of rain falling nonstop. Memories, goodbyes, joys, phone call to my hometown receiving not so good news and the first 500 kilometers traveling alone. A new feeling, filled with mixed emotions, with the music and the car as the only companions.

Memories of 16 countries, 43,000 kilometers and 160 days of travel rush to my mind almost at the same time, complementing the flood before my eyes.

January 26th of 2008, a small but warm farewell in Nogales, Sonora, to 3 young men who were going out to conquer the American continent with their eyes and be the first ones to travel around it by car. Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panama, Colombia, Ecuador and we were feeling at last like true travelers, but in reality the budget was not enough and, on March 12th after a month and a half traveling, Abraham Guzman, one of our team members, says goodbye to us in a bus terminal to go back to Mexico and lighten the costs so the project can become a reality. Heading towards Ipiales on the border with Colombia his bus leaves us behind with sad eyes; Abraham hasn’t returned to Mexico, we believe he is still in Colombia.

Problems to obtain the Peruvian visa, an excellent friend and restaurant owner who lent us his hand in that country, “Don Clemente” is an extraordinary person, Machu Pichu, the Andean plateau that takes us to Bolivia where we made incredible friends that we will visit one day, Chile welcomes us with its desert, volcanoes and high cost of living, the beautiful lakes between Chile and Argentina, the desolated Patagonia which wrecked havoc to our tires and for the first time we had a problem with the car, something that was fixed soon and the bad moment was compensated with the beautiful snowy mountains and the Perito Moreno glacier, the Magallanes strait to reach the end of the world where a cold snow storm was waiting for us, Buenos Aires an incredible city that I will never forget, where we leave great friends who made me feel as if I was at home, the national press who treated us marvelously and has made us receive lots of e-mail messages from every

 corner of the country, messages that I will answer one by one to thank and to help every one who wishes to travel around the world, Rio de la Plata that takes us to Uruguay and Montevideo which brings back sweet memories, the tropical Giant that with its size and the gasoline at 6.50 dollars per gallon we thought would never let us leave, Rio de Janeiro and an incredible week to recharge the internal energy, beautiful coastlines, nights at truck stops, the rodizio, the churrasco, constant rain storms, 8 days and 8 nights to cross the Amazon in a raft, with beautiful sunsets and lots of mosquitoes, the Gran Sabana in Venezuela, with the best waterfalls we have seen on the trip, gasoline at ridiculous low prices, only a few cents per gallon, saying goodbye in Caracas to Ulises who writes so well and always made this site have such a good account of things, and the rain with its bad visibility causes a car to enter my lane and makes me get out of the road and bring me back to reality.

Luis Manuel (P) would wait for me before crossing the bridge to Maracaibo (P) on Thursday afternoon to show me the city, and with the rain that continued they closed the bridge because strong winds come from the coast and it is dangerous for cars on the top part of the bridge. Luis Manuel, architect, guided me through the city and explained me some of the history, architecture, customs and way of life in Maracaibo. Modern city, regionalist and with big oil fields.

We wandered around most part of the city making the best of the night and the rain, combination that produced zero traffic, a strange thing in a Venezuelan city; delicious dinner courtesy of our friend, cathedral of the Chinita of Chiquinquirá (P), Bolivar Plaza, City Hall, Legislative Palace (P), shopping malls and important sites of interest in the city were showed before my eyes. It was late at night and I spend the rest of it in Luis’ house.

Six in the morning of Friday and we are ready to get to know more about Maracaibo. We begin early because that same day I would leave Venezuela to enter Colombia once again and we were hoping time would be enough to visit the oil wells and to reach a country house in Colombia with daylight to camp beside the beach. We visit the bridge, the wells (P), we have delicious little cakes of meat, cheese and chicken for breakfast, walk around the city talking, laughing, learning the Venezuelan language and listening to Latin music, something Luis is a big fan of, in fact he knows about the music of Northern Mexico perfectly.

I say goodbye to Luis around midday with my sights set on Colombia, little gasoline in the tank and lots of lines in Maracaibo to buy fuel. I continue on the road and matters get worse as I am getting closer to the border, and with no option I decide to get back in line in a service station where there were taxi drivers for the most part, but the military man in charge of the pump and the people who were also waiting to stock up, kindly invite me to move up front when they see my foreign license plates. Between jokes and smiles I was the first one to receive fuel, and even though it is not allowed they filled the cans that I carry on the car’s roof, which was great for me because it would allow me to reach Cartagena with cheap gasoline. All in all I paid six dollars for all the fuel.

Venezuela-Colombia border, the famous Guajira, women with colorful dresses (P), food stands, intense heat and once again border permits. Seals from Immigration (P), payments and I am set to enter the neighboring country, where it was actually the anniversary of the DIAN, Colombian Department of Customs, and even though it was only four in the afternoon they were not providing any kind of service for the admission of foreign vehicles. For a moment the idea of sleeping right there crossed my mind. By chance they opened the office door and in a discrete way I entered to speak with the Customs supervisor and I tell her that I’m coming from Mexico and that I need to enter her country. She thought about it for a few minutes and decided to help me.

Once again Colombian highways, military posts every couple of kilometers, almost memorized answers to their questions, tolls and the beauty of the region. Night came in unwanted fashion because I didn’t remember exactly where the country house was. Moving slowly and looking carefully, I try to find the entrance, which appears almost thirty kilometers before Santa Martha. Then, for the first time a country repeats itself, for the first time there is the same stop on the trip. It was a great feeling to see familiar faces and to have a place to sleep after traveling almost always with no course set; it was almost like getting home. Delicious fried fish and patacón (fried banana) were waiting for me in the Los Angeles country house, a nice beach, coconuts threatening to fall on top of the car and the excellent company of the owners.

Weekend on the Colombian Atlantic, waterfalls (P), jungle, white sand, visit to the Tayrona (P) park with the guidance and invitation of Nohemi Ramos, owner of the country house, a person always ready to assist travelers and tourists with her best spirit, willing to unselfishly help whoever needs it and provide certain peace of mind and calm which is so necessary when one feels lost in the world amongst the roads of America.

After a nice weekend, waking up with the sounds of the birds, dreams on a hammock and lots of new friends (P), in the early hours of Monday I go out with my sights set on reaching Cartagena to begin the search of a boat that can send my car to Panama.

Goodbye and until next time when America allows us to meet again.

To my readers, an apology for the delays in writing this chronicle. The loss of team members in this trip has affected the rhythm and state of mind. From this point on I will try to tell you every 3 or 4 days about things that America shows and gives me. Thanks a lot.

We docked in Manaus Sunday night, but we could disembark until Monday morning because nobody was working at that moment. Last night on the balsa; these days have come and gone in a blink of an eye. All that is relative to time, its relation with human acts, nature and the nothing-everything that surrounds us, has been proved during the opening and closing of the eyes before Monday’s dawn. Usual maneuvers to disembark, sincere goodbye from the crew; again on dry land.

Accompanied by Everton, (P)a member of the personnel of the shipping company Sanave, we were able to see some of the port: the fair, the market where, (P)we would know later, we said goodbye to the churrasco, the Amazonas Theater (P). Walls, oil paintings hanging from the vaults; spices that confuse your sense of smell (P), giant fishes, headless chickens, dead pigs with a smile on their lips, homeless people who look for life’s leftovers, women that nobody wants on their bed; delirious substance of Amazonic confusions.

After a brief stop in Presidente Figuereido to update the web page, we head on towards Boa Vista, very close to the Venezuela border, through a road that is destroyed (P)and practically impassable. This road crosses the Wamuri Atroairi Indian Reservation, over which we had received several warnings. The townspeople have defined a schedule from 6 AM to 6 PM for people passing through the area and it is not recommended to stop at any time during the trip. Some of the recommendations seemed exaggerated, some of the stories seemed ridiculous: kidnappings, reduced heads, I don’t know. At the end we decided to avoid proving the degree of veracity. The myth hunters pass using a different path.

Crossing the border turned out to be relatively simple (P). The penalty we had talked about was applied, but it can be cancelled if you go back to Brazil. We suffered a big scare, because by exceeding the valid term of the car permit, they wanted to charge us another penalty fee that was 10% of its value. For an instant everything collapsed inside of us (as Manuel Alejandro would say), but finally it was all settled among sad faces and pleas in Portunish.

On the Venezuelan side, first surprise, roads in perfect conditions (P). We had to find gasoline in Santa Elena and, second surprise, here it is very cheap: full tank for 4 dollars. After traveling through Brazil, this was a happy place for our eight cylinders. There we met brothers Victor and Moises Torrealba (personnel from the local government’s social communication department), who selflessly helped us find a place to spend the night, find economic food and have some cold beers (P). Also thanks to their help we avoided long lines to find gasoline, a problem directly related to the cost-benefit proportion of the gasoline between Venezuela and Brazil. We say goodbye to the Torrealba brothers, convinced that things would turn out well in Venezuela.

“The horse is given savanna because it is old and tired…” This verse is part of a typical song of the region known as Gran Sabana (Great Savanna), located in the state of Bolivar (P). It has an abundance of waterfalls to which you can get from the road, after traveling a few kilometers. (P)

If you have read “The Lost World”, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (better known for his “Adventures of Sherlock Holmes”), or have seen the movie based on that novel, you must know that both were inspired by the physical geography present in the Roraima Park, (P)located in the surroundings of Gran Sabana. Pushed by the bad weather, we were forced to satisfy ourselves with a panoramic view, from the closest point you could get to on four wheels. It is possible to guess the mystery hidden by the mountains that guard clean water, gigantic ferns, (P)interweaved vegetation, natural and maddening silence. This combination of elements could make us remember, if memory wasn’t a human invention, a time without men, without names, without words.

The journey continues and guarded by the Orinoco River we resume course. In Bolivar city we made contact with Maru, Venezuelan friend who had followed our adventure with lots of interest since the beginning. At last, having Puerto Ordaz as scenario, we meet personally. Maru is a resourceful girl, determined. There are no obstacles between her and her goals for every day, every instant of an existence filled with sweet novelties.

With a temporary member of the crew we head towards Maturin where Ronald, friend of Maru and immediately friend of ours, showed us some of the city attractions: cathedral, parade grounds, shopping center, etc. All this while enjoying refreshing drinks of various brands, colors and tastes. Greetings to Ronald and his brother Olivier. We will see each other in Mexico, maybe. (P)

After enjoying a concert and an exhibition of photography, (P)paintings and sculptures in the La Llovizna park, we set camp in Playa Colorada following the instructions of Ronald, and on the next day we reach Valencia, the hometown of Maru and her family, where we were kindly received.

Under the guidance of Belky, a girl from Caracas with quick phrases and unbeatable willingness, we visited the Venezuelan capital, located two hours from Valencia. Bolivar Avenue, National Cemetery (P), Silence Towers (P), Government Palace, El Hatillo neighborhood. Caracas dazzles by its chronological mixture, ethnic combination that makes it set itself on the broadest of cultural spectrums. But it also suffocates with its terrible vehicular traffic, the city paranoia, fear lurking over every home (P). Perpetual claire-obscures of the Latin-American micro-history.

Good luck seems to reach us in Venezuela. We were interviewed by an important local newspaper, El Carabobeño (P), and a local TV station (P). We thank them for their interest and hope for positive results to our voyage. (P)

We also want to thank, and very specially, the Lozada family for all their attentions. Chatting with them meant recovering regional customs, family traditions, past times that take root in the deepest part of a genealogy of hospitality and good treatment. Part of our odyssey stays here, in the company of Maru, Mrs. Dulce and Mr. Pedro (P). Memories will travel frequently towards these hot corners of the Venezuelan soul.

We will be in contact soon. Goodbye, and until next time when America allows us to meet again