Leaving Brazil and going up towards the north...

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Under a lot of rain, with our heads dazed with thoughts, we headed towards Avaré, Campo Mourão, and then Foz do Iguaçu. It was a long way, but not as long as the at least four months to Alaska would be. Thoughts jumped from one side to the other and we remembered our gas station attendant friend who asked "What time would we arrive in Alaska". No one had the dimension of what our trip was. And neither did we, at that moment.

            

That's when we decided to enjoy every minute as if it were unique. With this idea in mind, we went to visit the Falls in the Iguaçu National Park. The Devil's Throat is a show within the spectacle of the falls. We visited Ciudad del Leste, Paraguay, crossing the Friendship Bridge on foot. The heat was unbearable.

 

On the way back, already on the Brazilian side, we took a bus and witnessed the action of a smuggler hired to cross goods. The computer boards were stuck under the seats, including ours. Without the slightest embarrassment, he asked us to get up and remove the goods. Incredible!

            

We were already about to leave Brazil. We went to fill up the car and talked to the gas station attendant, who was born right there in Foz do Iguaçu, we asked him how often he went to Paraguay. The bridge was just a few meters away. And he replied that he had never crossed to the other side. We were surprised and thinking about how people are so different. Our anxiety to see the world contrasted with that boy's lack of curiosity to know the other side of the bridge. We concluded, at that moment, that it was exactly this difference that instigated us to travel. To see the differences and their contrasts.

 

So, it was there that, in fact, our story and our "Alaska Expedition 2001" began. Fear gave way to an unforgettable adventure. On March 12, 2001, on a Monday at 10:00 a.m., with the odometer of our Defender 110 showing 110,110 km, we crossed the Brazil-Argentina border, heading to Alaska.

            

The border situation is always a bit tense. We did all the procedures in an hour under the curious eyes of the guards who wanted to know a little more about the expedition. And finally, we enter Argentina.

 

Crossing this border was our option, as we already knew the region further south, during the Tierra del Fuego Expedition the previous year. We prefer to continue from this point towards the city of Resistencia, in the province of Chaco.

            

On the road, we were stopped by the police six times. The last time, almost in the city, the policeman asked for the documentation. Seeing that everything was in order, he decided to pick on the towing of the car. Although there was nothing about this ban in Argentina, this was the argument of the local authority. We understand the good old "pick-up" of bribery and decided to end the party. Helinho took the tools and started to remove the trailer. The policeman was distraught and ordered "Adelante" to continue.

 

It was in situations like this that we collected stories throughout the way. But, always with good humor and common sense, what made this expedition a great story of our lives...

 

Faced with the "Paros," the heat, and the damn pernilongs...

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The next morning, we headed to Sáenz Peña. It was a nice little town to stay in, not far from Resistencia. Around noon, with the sun at its peak, and the car's thermometer reading 40 degrees, we saw a line of trucks stopped on the road. There were only 20 km to go, but there was no way to get through. It was a "Paro", a blockade made by rural workers. We tried to continue, but we were barred, interrogated, and decided to go back. We learned that that blockade had already been going on for two days, with no forecast for the opening of the road.

            

The way was to stay there, waiting. It was rumored that the blockade would be lifted at 8:30 p.m. With this expectation, we found a shadow in an abandoned campsite. At dusk, the mosquitoes attacked in bands. Even with the strong heat that it was, we were locked inside the car to avoid the bites of those damned people. It didn't take long, we started to hear a "buzz, buzz, buzz" that the road wouldn't open that night.

            

We remember seeing a small hotel on the side of the road, a few kilometers ago. We returned and, luckily, there was a room where we stayed. The road towards Resistência, just after the hotel, also closed. We stayed halfway through, but luckily the hotel was nice and clean. We ate something and went to rest.

            

Early in the morning, there was a movement on the road. In a jump, we get up and leave towards Sáenz Peña and Salta. We feared that the road would close again. And that's what was to come. Further on, another blockade began. This time, with the help of police and some local drivers, we took a narrow and dusty side road, in the middle of plantations. We were startled when we saw an armed man at the top of a tower. But we continue to accelerate hard with the others.

 

The car's radio was tuned to a station that commented on the roadblocks in the region. And more roads would be closed. Arriving at a bridge that would lead to the main road, already after the blockade, we were told that our car was too heavy for that doomed bridge. We don't think twice and accelerate. We crossed the bridge by force and took the main road. We went faster, without stopping to the city of Salta. Phew! We arrived safe and sound!

            

It was quite an adventure, but stressful. There we rested and enjoyed the place, which is beautiful. It is no wonder that the city was nicknamed "Salta, la Linda".

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The "Lhama Lele"...

            

The next day we prepared to cross the Andes at almost 5 thousand meters of altitude, towards San Pedro de Atacama, in Chile. We headed towards San Salvador de Jujuy, still in Argentina, on a very beautiful road. On the way, we came across a new roadblock. Unbelievably, it was the third. And this time, it was a protest by an Andean community. We waited a long time, which delayed our trip a lot and began to worry us. We were going to cross the Andes and we didn't like to drive at night.

            

First, because we wanted to see nature and then because of the risk due to the altitude. There were hours of waiting before clearing the road for ten minutes. We followed a dusty path, with rocks and many holes. Finally, we started to climb the Andes. The look was beautiful and intriguing. An inhospitable place and houses in the middle of the mountains, without any access to cars. Our destination was the border of Paso Jama, which is at an altitude of 4,200 meters.

            

We did the procedures at the Argentine border, along with a Brazilian truck driver who was heading to Peru. When we entered Chile, the road was already paved. The landscape was the same: volcano, snow-capped peaks, immense "salt flats" and giant cacti. We continue to climb up to 4,860 meters in altitude. Attention needed to be redoubled. The thin air brought the feeling of tiredness, drowsiness, and difficulty breathing.

            

We had not done any kind of acclimatization and the difference in altitude was very large. The snowy peaks, which we had previously seen in the distance, were now very close. The clouds seemed to be within reach. The shadows looked like large lakes. They were true mirages. An incredible natural beauty. We stopped to enjoy that moment. We tried a little run to cross the road, but fatigue prevented us. Everything was in slow motion. Time seemed to be stopping. So, we decided to move forward.

            

We started to descend the valley and suddenly we arrived in San Pedro de Atacama, which is at an altitude of 2,400 meters. We did customs before entering the city. Chile is very strict about the entry of food. No fruit and fresh food. We already knew the bureaucracies. With that, we had no problems. The police searched the car and we entered the city.

            

It hadn't rained in San Pedro de Atacama for more than 45 years, according to residents. And, just before we arrived, it rained very hard. The streets were flooded and with a lot of mud. The roads were impassable. With that, the campsite was closed and the way was to look for a reasonable "hostel" with a fair price. The only problem was the lack of electricity in the city and, consequently, the lack of hot water. The city was not prepared for rain and, therefore, was somewhat chaotic. But even so, it did not drive away tourists.

            

We went out for a walk through the streets and the smell of incense in the shops, patchouli perfume, candle lighting, and the songs of Ravi Shankar and Bob Marley in the bars, made us go back in time.

            

We rested, and the next day, we started exploring the city and the must-see spots of the desert. The Valley of the Moon got its name from its resemblance to the lunar surface. It does not have any kind of life and the rock formations, which reach up to two hundred meters in height, are the result of the winds in the region. The Valley of Death was a place where ancient people took their sick and old people, with their belongings, to die there in peace. Mummies have been found and some are in the city's museum, which is worth a visit. Both the Valley of the Moon and the Valley of Death are on a salt ridge. But it was Death Valley that impressed us the most. The nearby canyons and dunes caused us a very strange feeling. It gave me goosebumps.

            

Another attraction, Pukara de Quitor, considered a national monument, is a pre-Columbian archaeological site that is said to have served as a fortress for the Atacama people against Inca attacks. Even more interesting is to visit El Tatio, where the Geysers explode, raising more than eight meters high, jets of steam and boiling water. They are located at an altitude of 4,000 meters and are almost 100 kilometers from San Pedro de Atacama.

            

With the rains of the previous days, the roads were impassable at some points and the local police did not recommend alternative routes to visit the Licancabur and Lázcar volcanoes, the Peine pools, the Flamingos National Reserve, the Salar de Atacama and the cities of Toconao and Socaire. We were frustrated, of course!

            

The Lázcar volcano, which can be seen from San Pedro de Atacama, is still active and is always shrouded in smoke, with a strong smell of sulfur. The Licancabur imposes itself by its beauty and height, which attracts the most curious mountaineers.

            

Before continuing our way, we enjoyed the city a little more and saw the car of a Brazilian, who had an accident in the region. Due to his bad luck, there was a hitchhiker, who died. The boy was detained. We never knew what happened to him again.

            

The "hostel" where we stayed was owned by a very nice native, who had a 2-year-old daughter named Leslie. Every day we had our breakfast in the kitchen, with Leslie and a cousin who helped with the household chores. With that, we ended up getting fond of the little girl and she was with us. On the day of our departure, Leslie cried a lot, which left us heartbroken. It was then that we realized how many meetings and farewells we would have ahead. We were sad, but at the same time, we learned the inevitable, goodbyes would be difficult. We got a cloth llama from Leslie, which was her favorite toy. We named it "Llama Lelé". We still keep it with us. It is a memory that was given to us with detachment, by a 2-year-old child. Even today, when we look at "Llama Lelé" we remember that little girl fondly.

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And at that time there was no cell phone, no social networks...

            

During the planning of our expedition, we tried to get some sponsorship. We contacted a satellite phone company, which at that time had a huge phone that could fit in a suitcase. Unfortunately, we did not get the sponsorship. So, the bulletins we sent to a radio station in São Paulo were the most fun way to send news to Brazil. For this, the reports were recorded and sent from a public phone, with a "collect" call.

 

Communication with family and friends was done by e-mail. In the countries of South America, Central America, and Mexico, the Cyber Café was the best way out. In the United States, it was easy to get great internet, free of charge, in public libraries and universities.

 

Even without an easy connection with Brazil, this long trip to Alaska had everything but loneliness. Many people were curious and always stopped to talk, see the car, and exchange information. For example, on the way to Iquique, still in Chile, we met a French family who had been traveling for six months. Then we met four Brazilians, who were going to surf in Peru. In Iquique, a Chilean who had lived in Brazil, approached us when he saw the car parked. And, as there are Brazilians in the four corners of the world, we were also approached by a Brazilian who lived in the city. Other than that, at gas stations, on the streets, on beaches, and anywhere, people wanted to know about our expedition.

 

Sometimes, we were gifted. And, in Iquique, we got a super car wash. In addition, as the city was large, with good infrastructure, we decided to change the bearing of the car's engine, a breakdown that was generated by the poor conditions of the roads and the wind with a lot of fine sand that we faced along the way.

 

Anyway, the review was done, we took the opportunity to send the radio reports and it was time to leave. We resumed our journey, along the Pan-American Highway, towards Arica, which was only 20 km from the border with Peru. We stopped to see the city that was known for its surf beaches and crossed the border of Peru.

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Peru and its differences...

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The road was dangerous, with many curves and canyons. The carcasses of the vehicles at the bottom of the canyons were exposed, as well as the crosses and pieces of cars on the side of the road demarcating the places of the accidents. Given this, we proceeded with great caution to Arequipa, a city we already knew.

            

It was déjà vu. When we were there, for the first time, the president of Peru was Alan Garcia. And this time, we arrived right on the day of a rally of this same politician. The former president was running for president again. From what we noticed, his promises were no longer as enchanting as before, but the "showmício" left the crowd of Peruvians very excited.

            

We decided to explore other places in the country. So, we went to Nazca. We had to stand still, once again, waiting for a peasant demonstration to end. It was our fourth roadblock since we left Brazil. A long time later we arrived at our destination.

            

We could not miss the famous "Nazca Lines", the main attraction of the region. These geoglyphs, which are lines that form several figures, can be seen from a distance or by flying over the region.  But the city, that seemed like a crazy thing, literally. Just to give you an idea, a loudspeaker in a tower in the central square was playing very loud music. In stores, the volume of the music was also deafening. This is not to mention the public television that was in the middle of the square with the sound at the highest height. And finally, the cars honking non-stop. We wanted to get away from there to anywhere. And we fled to the silent desert knowing that we would still have a lot to see and feel ahead.

            

With no commitment to physical time, except to arrive in Alaska in the summer, we did not deprive ourselves of getting to know all other places quite calmly. After Nazca we headed towards Pisco, but not before stopping in Ica.

 

Ica reminded us of India. The dusty streets, with a lot of people, and chaotic traffic shared the space with cars and rickshaws or tuc-tucs, very Indian-style. This city lives from the production of grapes, planted in the middle of the desert, in irrigated sand forming immense green fields.

            

Fleeing the chaos, we went to Paracas, where the Paracas National Reserve is located. This is a protected area where we saw sea lions, condors, and fantastic geological formations such as La Cattedrale. We stayed the weekend to get to know the region and the Islas Ballestas, a true ornithological reserve, with colonies of birds and sea lions. It was a well-deserved rest, with the right to enjoy the beach, under the scorching heat.

            

We met a fisherman, who had already lived in Brazil, and explained that Paracas was a paradise for millionaires, businessmen, and politicians. The region is fascinating, with the desert and the sea meeting. In addition to the natural beauty, the city's museum shows a little of the Paracas culture.

 

As we had already visited the central part of Peru, on another trip, we decided to visit the coast. The departure from Paracas would have been normal if it had not been for another demonstration of rural workers. It was our fifth block since we started the trip. We were already smart about these blockades. Therefore, when the police warned about the protest, we followed, with about ten other cars, alongside the roads. We had done this before and we didn't hesitate. It felt like a rally because we learned that the bridge we would have to cross to return to the road, after the blockade, would be closed.

            

This time, we passed between cotton and sugarcane plantations, finding cars coming in the opposite direction. Luckily, there were no accidents and we arrived, again, on the main road, the Panamericana. Some time later we were crossing the chaotic Lima.

            

Our destination was Trujillo, but we couldn't get there, due to setbacks. So we decided to sleep in Casma, a small town, in a region with the pre-Columbian Chimu culture. We left early, the next day, and decided to go to Piúra where we stayed in a very nice "hostel", with the right to the best apartment for a much lower price. It was a generous offer from the owners. There we talked for long hours about our trip and about Brazil.

            

There the landscape was of rice paddies, banana trees, and coconut trees. Sometimes it reminded us of the Brazilian northeast, but with the sea to our left, not to the right as in the Atlantic, since our direction was to the North. After all, we were seeing the Pacific Ocean. The heat became unbearably humid.

 

Despite the location and nice people, it was time to cross the border from Ecuador. But the images we saw on television were not very encouraging. The rain had punished the region. There were many fallen bridges and the river that crossed the border was very full. At some points on the road, the help of tractors was needed to get the cars out of the mud. The cities were flooded. Fortunately, they had some deviations, which was what we were counting on at that time. Thus, very early in the morning, we left for Ecuador, our new destination.

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Shipping the car...

            

By then we had already traveled 10,000 km. The Ecuadorian border looked more like the Ciudad del Leste border in smaller size but with the same volume of people circulating. We did the bureaucratic procedures and headed to Machala, a city 60 km from the border.

            

We arrived just in time for the football match between Brazil and Ecuador. And, worse, exactly at the time of Ecuador's goal, which gave the team victory over the "four-time world champion". Our car all stickered with Brazilian flags drew attention and the result was a "honk" behind us J  

            

After that, do you think we had peace? Of course not! We heard a lot of mockery from the police who stopped us to check documentation, from hotel and store attendants... Anyway, we had to join the game because, let's face it, it was a good "icebreaker" in many situations. We even got a general car wash. But what impressed us the most was that two hours after the game there was already an extra edition of the local newspaper with the following headline: "We beat Brazil. We changed history."

            

Our idea was to go from Ecuador to Colombia, but we were advised against crossing the border because, at the time, the FARC was very active, practicing kidnappings, and we would be a very easy and precious target for the guerrillas. We gave up and went to Puerto Bolívar, an international port, to understand how to ship our car to Panama. This is because there is no overland passage from South America to Central America since the "Darién Gap" is a large hydrographic basin, forests, and mountains, with no roads built.

 

We were well received by the agents of the Port Authority, in Puerto Bolívar, and informed that only in Guayaquil could we board. Guayaquil was not exactly the city we would like to stay in for a long time. It was a very large and confusing city with a bustling commercial center. The traffic was chaotic. Pedestrians crossing in front of cars, just like that. The horn was a fundamental accessory. The traffic guards were true "kamikazes". They stayed in the middle of the intersections, without any protection, trying to organize the traffic, in a very fun performance. The luxurious condominiums were located in an area they call La Puntilla, far from the city center.

            

At that time, Ecuador was going through a difficult economic situation, due to its dollarization. Sucre, its ancient currency, ceased to exist. The conversion was 25,000 Sucres to 1 dollar. As a result, there was a general impoverishment and, consequently, a significant increase in urban violence. The contrasts were enormous and the social problems, ditto. We were impressed by the ostensible armed surveillance, with machine guns and shotguns, inside and outside shopping malls, hotels, parking lots, cafeterias, and restaurants. But some people told us that four years before our time there the situation was much worse.

 

Given the situation, we opted for a hotel far from the center, avoiding greater exposure to the car.

            

Anyway, we had no way to escape the processes and procedures of customs and the loading of the car, which were complicated and time-consuming. We researched the shipping companies, and customs brokers and there were several trips to the port to sign documents, photocopy, pay fees, etc., etc... All this, with the help of the Port Authority. Although very well received, unfortunately, we had to face scams and price lists for foreigners. After everything was ready, we heard that the car would not board on the agreed day.

            

Simply the browser company hired had not reserved the space for our container. The next day, we woke up at the office and had a heated discussion in "Portuñol", which did absolutely nothing. We had to look for another company that was able to ship the car at a closer date. And so we did.

 

But, in addition to all this, there was still a pending matter. At that time, a visa was required for some Central American countries. And Panama was on that list. We called the Consulate and were very well attended. In half a day we already had the visa, upon payment of one hundred dollars, of course! That's because, the local "authority" had lived in Brazil and blah, blah, blah...

 

Well, while we were waiting to board the car, we decided to relax and get to know Salinas, the "Ecuadorian Guarujá". The city had a large tourist structure, with tall buildings, and was busier on weekends. The heat was scorching, and just by staying in the shade of the tent we acquired a beautiful tan. There we took the opportunity to eat a "ceviche", typical of the region, and other seafood and fish.

 

We returned to Guayaquil and it was time to board the car. We went early to the port. When we got there, we had the first surprise. The dispatcher said that we would have to pay an extra amount for the car to be inspected. We said we wanted the receipt from customs. The matter died right there, without payment. We were already smart. This was another attempt to "bite some money".

            

The container was finally released, after an hour and a half of waiting. The car was ready to be shipped when the second surprise of the day came. It was necessary to tie the car inside the container, as a safety measure, so that it would not be thrown from one side to the other. So far, so good. But, we had to shell out more money. The extortionate practices, common in the ports, were already known. It is no wonder that the name "gang" is used by themselves. A very appropriate name to define these service providers.

            

After this saga of boarding the car was completed, there was no point in running out of there. The car would take a good few days to Panama. So we went to Cuenca, the third largest city in Ecuador.

We bought our tickets to Cuenca from a bus company that offered "air-conditioned buses, on-board television and piped music." But the television was the landscape seen through the window. The air-conditioning was the windows fully open. The ambient music was the bus radio tuned to a station with loud music that mixed with the noise of the bus engine and the wind. But all this was part of the trip and did not make us lose our good humor. The landscapes were beautiful, despite the somewhat "failed" roads, because of the recent rains that fell in the region.

            

Cuenca is a city with colonial architecture, many churches, and large squares and is culturally very active. It is located in a valley, despite its 2,500 meters of altitude, surrounded by high Andean mountains, with a lot of greenery. It is considered a World Heritage Site by UNESCO. There is a modern part active, but it has not interested us.

 

The city was celebrating the commemoration of its foundation and the celebrations that precede Holy Week. Palm Sunday was special. The city's Cathedral was packed. And it was interesting to see the various indigenous, mestizo, and white peoples together, shaking their branches, inside and outside the Cathedral. The streets were decorated and after mass, there was a parade with a military band and many fireworks.

 

We learned about the various indigenous peoples of Ecuador. In Cuenca, we saw the Otavalos, who come from the north, the Saraguros and the Cañarejos. For us, they differed, mainly, by the clothes and props. Saraguro men wear shorter pants, looking like shorts, their hair tied in a "ponytail" and a black hat. Otavalos women, on the other hand, wear long dresses, white shirts, and many golden necklaces around their necks. The cañarejas wear colorful clothes, full skirts, a hat, and a shawl on their shoulders. These indigenous peoples, in addition to Spanish, had their native language, Quechua, with slight variations between each people.

            

Cuenca was a very interesting city and we, already relaxed from the stress of boarding the car, decided to call the navigation company on the expected date that the car would depart. That's when another surprise came. The car had not been shipped on the scheduled date. After another discussion, by phone, we returned to Guayaquil. The explanation was that they had a "draft problem", that is, the river was not full enough to allow the ship to enter the port and no cargo was loaded.

 

Now we have other problems. Our flight to Panama was already booked and customs had already marked in our passport the name of the ship that the car would be transporting, which would change with this cancellation of boarding. And, finally, leaving the car at the port was a risk because the containers were constantly violated, according to the shipping company itself.

            

Our first step was to try to talk to the Brazilian Consulate to know exactly what to do in that situation. At the consulate, they said they didn't know and suggested that we call the Ecuadorian Embassy in Quito. Those who answered at the Embassy did not know what to do either and asked to call the Panamanian Consulate. As we already knew this Panamanian "authority" in Guayaquil, who granted the visa, we went in search of the information.

            

Calmly, everything was settled. We were able to exchange the tickets at no additional cost. At the shipping company, we asked them to check the seal of the container and everything seemed to be fine, but, incredible as it may seem, the company was not responsible if there was a violation. The head of the company's export only told us that she asked them to put another container next to ours to make it difficult to open the seal. All that remained was for us to pray and try, once again, to relax. As there was no point in staying in Guayaquil, we decided to visit Quito. At least the trip would distract us from our worries. We followed for eight hours, by bus, on a trip between the mountains, in the middle of an incredibly wonderful forest.

            

We arrived in Quito, which is located in a valley, located at an altitude of 2,850 meters. The green predominates and the houses and buildings are built up and down the hill. There is a very old colonial part, with well-preserved houses. Its narrow streets and slopes predominate in this part, reminiscent of Ouro Preto and also living up to the title of Historical Heritage of Humanity. The other side of the city is modern with grand boulevards, buildings, and luxurious homes.

 

We stayed in a very nice place, with many tourists, bars, restaurants, a real party. And more, a place where you could walk and return at night to the hotel, very different from Guayaquil. Quito is truly an amazing city.

            

We visited two interesting places, which were close to Quito. Otavalo, 100 km to the north, is a city with the highest concentration of indigenous people, which bears the same name. On Saturdays, this small town is transformed into a large fair, with handicrafts, clothes, carpets, decorations, and also a part of fruits, vegetables, and legumes from the region. All are very colorful.

 

The other place we visited was Mitad del Mundo, where the Equator passes. It is 22 kilometers away from Quito. There we put one foot in the north and the other in the south of the world.  

            

We took advantage of the time we had left in the city and decided to stop by the Embassies of Panama, Nicaragua, and Honduras to better understand the issue of visas and advance the "consularization" of the car's documentation.

 

At the Panamanian Embassy, while we were waiting at the reception, we looked at the bulletin board and came across a piece of information that surprised us. There it said that Brazilians no longer needed visas to enter Panama. We didn't understand and told an employee that we had paid for the visas and showed them the passports. At that moment, the Ambassador came to talk to us.

 

This was not the first time this had happened. Because of this fact, the Ambassador asked for our collaboration to prove the fraud. We thought long and hard and decided not to get into this mess. As travelers, we resolved not to get involved with the country's domestic and political problems. We had a long way to go in Panama and we preferred to travel quietly, without worries. Well, the story is a bit longer and more complicated, but we prefer not to make it public, for obvious reasons.

            

After this "imbroglio," we returned to Guayaquil. The shipping company reported that the car had shipped and would arrive at the port in Panama on the scheduled date. Finally, after 20 days in Ecuador, we were able to continue our journey to Alaska. Staying in Ecuador longer than expected, due to the delay in boarding the car, at first was a nuisance, but it was compensated by the trips where we could get to know that country better.

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