The road chose me

For my final night in Peru I camp on a hill overlooking the mighty Lake Titticaca and after dark I clearly see the lights of Copacabana in Bolivia, less than 50kms away.
In the morning I arrive at the Yunguyo border, a very relaxed place, and chat to anyone and everyone waiting for it to open at 8am Peru time. I get a stamp on my Tourist Card from the Police, then walk next door where the Immigration guy takes the Tourist Card and stamps my passport out of Peru. Just over the road I hand in my Aduana (Customs) form for the Jeep, which gets a couple of stamps and I’m clear to leave Peru.

Camping by Lake Titicaca

About 200 meters along the road I arrive at the Bolivian side and get things moving. At Immigration I fill out a Tourist Card and am stamped in for 30 days. Next door at customs a friendly guy takes a copy of my passport and registration, types up the Jeep details, has me sign my copy and I’m all done in less than 5 minutes – a new record.
I ask about required insurance and am told I absolutely need it by law, but can only buy it in La Paz, about 150kms away. I should drive very carefully from here to there though, because there will be serious problems if I get in an accident without insurance. To ward off Police bribes I should just show my Peru insurance (actually from Ecuador), because they won’t know the difference!
I leave smiling and shaking my head at the same time.

Welcome to Bolivia

At the actual boom-gate two customs/military guys look over my papers before we walk together to their office to stamp and sign things before they’ll let me through. One of them is not happy about the crack in my windshield, telling me it’s illegal in Bolivia and he simply can’t let me pass. I explain I’ve been trying to buy a new one ever since Ecuador, but can’t find just the right glass. The Jeep needs a perfectly flat piece of glass, you see, and they just don’t have them around here.
He’s quite shocked by my completely made-up explanation and can’t do anything other than let me through.

I’ve been playing this game so long, I think I’m getting too good.

I drive ahead into Bolivia, without the border guards so much as glancing at anything inside the Jeep. Just past Copacabana is a Police checkpoint where they “register” vehicles by checking that papers and drivers licenses match. After stamping my papers the officer says I need to pay 10 Bolivianos (about $USD 1.50), which I’m of course happy to do, if he’ll just provide a receipt.
Surely, you guys are the Police, this is an official charge, there must be an official receipt?
He mumbles something to himself, so I take my papers and walk out.
I do, however, pay the 20 Boliviano “Copacabana Tourist Fee” that I’ve been warned about, which does come with an official receipt.

The floating pile of boards I caught across Lake Titicaca

By the second Police checkpoint I’m already familiar with the process, and it is reassuring that if someone stole the Jeep they would not get far at all. Interestingly a couple of the younger guys point out a sign showing I need two emergency triangles, a first aid kit and fire extinguisher to drive in Bolivia. I genuinely think they’re pointing it out because they want to make sure I am somewhat prepared for the roads that lie ahead, not because they want to bribe me.
When I’m about to leave the older officer says I can pay a “voluntary” charge of 10 bolivianos for the stamp he just gave me. He says this in very roundabout Spanish, so I play the “I don’t understand” game for a minute or two before he is so sick of me he shoos me out the door in disgust.

A little further on a huge group of Land Cruisers, Pajeros and Pathfinders with lift-kits, big wheels, spotlights, winches and more lead me to think I’ve bumped into a 4×4 club on a tour.
On closer inspection it turns out they are just taxis waiting for a fair. Oh.

Something tells me I’m about to find some pretty serious roads…

-Dan

I wind my way along a very remote dirt road, and find myself at a military checkpoint on what could easily be the top of the world highway. After the friendly guys check my paperwork and point me in the right direction, I drive along the top of a ridge-line, forested mountains visible in all directions.

Military check-point on top of the world

The little town of La Balsa itself consists of a handful of buildings sitting immediately before the bridge to Peru, again blocked by a ‘boom gate’ made from a tree trunk. The immigration guys are having breakfast, so I wait half an hour and chat to a lady about exchanging some money. The exchange rate doesn’t appeal to me, neither do her stories about how dangerous it is to travel (in general), with many a story about this and that person getting mugged.

The international border at La Balsa

Once breakfast is finished I hand over the paperwork for the Jeep to Aduana (customs), get a stamp in my passport and drive under the gate in about three minutes flat. The immigration guy did carefully check my visa was still valid – I’ve heard it’s a USD $200 fine if you over-stay.

On the Peruvian side, about 20 meters away, I park in front of a very similar gate and start the process of entering the country. I’m the only ‘guest’ for miles around and so am immediately helped by everyone. I fill out a tourist card at immigration, walk down the hill to get it stamped by the police and wander back to immigration to have it finalized and my passport stamped, good for 90 days. Next door at customs I hand over a copy of my license, passport and registration and the slightly deaf guy on duty has me fill out my own paperwork, with all the mundane details about the Jeep (color, year, make, VIN number, etc.). Half an hour later we stick a giant customs sticker on the windshield and I drive under the gate, officially permitted in Peru.
An extremely simple and friendly border crossing, and free across the board to boot.

Waiting patiently for a ride at the border, I pickup Fabricio, a friendly french guy who made the trip down to extend his stay in Peru. It’s always nice to have someone along and his stories about what to see and do in Peru keeps us chatting in Spanish for hours. The road gets worse and worse, turning from an extremely potholed mud pit, into very flat and slick clay and mud. At one particularly steep hill all the vehicles without 4×4 are stuck at the bottom or waiting at the top, too afraid to try and come down. Just to make things interesting, one large truck is stuck about half way up, right in the middle of the narrow road. I don’t have too much trouble with grip in 4×4, although going around the truck means I put two wheels into the sloping ditch on the side. It’s not a huge problem, going as slow as I am, and the locals are delighted to watch as I slide sideways up the hill with my front wheels on the road and rear wheels in the sloping ditch, all four wheels spitting mud the entire time. Coming down the slick parts reminds me a lot of driving on snow and ice, something the locals have obviously not had too much practice with, evidenced by the number of abandoned vehicles in the ditches.

Looking back to Ecuador

Somehow this part of Peru feels very much like parts of Central America, maybe southern Mexico or Panama. The cities we pass through are very dilapidated, dirty and packed with busses, trucks and thousands of tuk-tuks. The countryside is very tropical, with bananas, pineapples and even rice growing in the fields surrounding the road. It seems like another place where everyone is going to stop and stare as I move past, and the men again feel the need to shout something at me, just to maintain their dominance. After crossing into Colombia I immediately noticed a stark contrast to Central America, a theme that continued right through Ecuador. It’s hard to pinpoint, though I think it’s mostly about complete buildings, concrete footpaths, vehicles that look relatively safe, (somewhat) sensible road intersections and things like that – maybe I’ll sum it all up as ‘more developed’. It’s a really strange feeling to go back to ‘less developed’ again, almost like I’ve progressed backwards, not forwards at all.
I had thought more or less developed was a South America vs. Central thing. Obviously not.

Forward, into Peru

Hours later, after dropping off Fabricio at a bus terminal I’m winding along a beautiful river when the Police pull me over. The three of them are obviously excited to see me and clearly think they are on a winner. Nobody mentioned insurance at the border, so I completely forgot to ask if it was mandatory. These Police are straight onto it, not letting my Ecuadorian papers pass. Quick as a flash one of them whips out the law book and even has the passage highlighted and underlined:
“If you are a tourist traveling through Peru, you must have insurance… If you do not, the penalty follows…”
I’m happily conversing in Spanish, forgetting my usual routine of not understanding (oops). Eventually we wind up over at their car, where one of them has an ‘infraction’ sheet and is about to start writing it out. All three of them are trying to convince me I really don’t want him to write it out, though I say it’s OK, I’ll take the fine down to the next town and pay it, buy some insurance and get on with things. “Oh, no”, they say. “You have to pay it here”. (surprise, surprise) Not phased at all, I explain I don’t have any money on me, only credit cards, my protection against being robbed, you see. This comes as a huge shock and they don’t hide their disappointment one bit. “No money?!” they all exclaim and burst out laughing while handing back all my paperwork and wishing me a safe journey.

New country, same games

-Dan

We’re up early and move south through Ipiales, arriving at the border just after nine in the morning, which is quite busy with a long line of trucks and cars moving quickly through. We park on the Colombian side and take our paperwork to customs who keep a copy and give us the all clear. After standing in line for five minutes our passports are stamped and we are officially out of Colombia. Haggling with the money changers is fun and I get everything changed over with no problems.
Ecuador is another country that officially uses the US dollar so it’s nice to be back on familiar ground in terms of money.

The hedge garden in Tulcan

We drive under the obligatory “Welcome to Ecuador” sign, flanked by about ten impressive looking Police in full riot gear. We park, fill in an immigration form and wait in line for about twenty minutes to be stamped into Ecuador for 90 days. In a small, clean office just around the corner we hand over copies of our registration, passport and license and half an hour later the friendly guy has everything typed up and we are on our way. Interestingly, I’ve been using my Canadian drivers license for the entire trip. I do have an international drivers license, though I’ve never been asked to show it once.

This is by far the friendliest, easiest, cheapest border crossing of the journey.

Dan in the hedge garden in Tulcan

-Dan

I originally toyed with the idea of sailing from Panama to Colombia through the San Blas Islands, a stunningly beautiful trip by all accounts.
A number things made it not work out that way:

1. Sailing is about $375-$400 and takes 3 – 5 days.
2. We couldn’t leave Panama City until the ship with our container departed allowing us to collect our “original” Bill of Lading. This makes timing difficult and we would have to pay for container storage if it sat in Colombia more seven days after arrival.
3. Sticking with Vince and Marie wasn’t 100% necessary, though it kept things a lot simpler.
4. We got plane tickets for $150 each (inc. taxes), see http://www.aires.aero/Home/Default.aspx

Late in the afternoon we catch a city bus for two and a half hours through downtown Panama City rush hour traffic. It’s obvious everyone else on the bus makes this trip daily and they zone out after no more than two minutes. Security at the airport is similar to elsewhere I’ve been in the world, and we soon find ourselves loaded into a little dash-8. I haven’t been in a plane with a propeller for a long time and I somehow feel like I’m back in small town Australia.

The flight itself feels like it’s over before it even begins, barely an hour in total. I step off the plane onto the tarmac with an enormous grin on my face as do Vince and Marie. We’ve made it to South America and couldn’t be happier.
The guy at customs is very friendly, simply asks if I am on vacation and happily stamps my passport and waves me through.

The old "walled" city of Cartagena

We find a cheap hotel in the Getsemani neighborhood of Cartegena and head out to explore. Immediately things feel different than in Central America – it’s very busy and more motorcycles and tuk-tuks give an Asian/Indian feel. Wandering into the old walled city is really cool, the whole area is very clean, well patrolled and heavily touristed making it feel very safe. Outside the old city is a lot more raw and dirty, though I have no reason not to feel safe and quickly get the hang of things.
Cartagena is a very beautiful city.

Buildings in Cartagena

When my friend Mike’s trip to South America was unexpectedly cut short his ‘wish list’ of activities sat uncompleted – until now.
I’m not going to make this the focus of my journey, though it will be fun to see how many I can complete along the way:

• Bathe in the Amazon (but do not get a parasite).
• Have a fresh cup of Colombian coffee.
• Go to Carnival in Rio.
• Go to a soccer game in Brazil (but do not die in a riot).
• Visit the ancient ruins of the Incan city Machu Picchu.
• Stand on the Equator.
• Find penguins at the southern tip of Argentina.
• Ride an alpaca.
• Shear an alpaca.
• Eat chili in Chile.
• Learn five new swear words and say them to people.
• Spelunking.
• Go to a beach in Argentina.
• Helicopter tour of the Nazca Lines.
• Go to Lake Titicaca.
• Visit the Galapagos Islands (swim with iguanas).
• Visit Iguaçu Falls, if possible kayak or barrel roll down them.
• Visit the Patagonia glaciers.
• Meet a gaucho.
• Eat a guinea pig (Jess Baran highly disapproves of this).
• Eat world’s hottest pepper from Chile.

Feel free to leave a comment with your own suggestions

Castillo do San Felipe in Cartagena

-Dan