The End

It is difficult to conclude such a great adventure. That's why I took so long to post this last message. I would have liked it to continue. But now, all is over. The circle is complete.

As during the Oscars ceremony, I want to thank you all. A big thank you to those who helped me financially or logistically (sometimes even both!). A big thank you to those who helped me during my journey: they hosted me or taken a ride, or just invited to eat or drink a beer, gave contacts, wrote comments on this blog or Facebook or sent emails. A big thank you also to those I met, with whom I traveled a day, a week or a month. You helped a lot.

I come back, probably a little different, probably more aware of cultures across the Atlantic, probably more open to diversity, certainly more prepared to the unexpected. I remember a discussion with FX, a French guy who hosted me a few days in Tucson, Arizona. We agreed that traveling requires to accept losing control of everything, losing our cultural landmarks, language, etc. We are faced with ourselves, having to find our own resources to deal with all these changes, these little daily challenges. And I come back with the certainty that nothing is insurmountable.

It is with emotion that I close this chapter of my life. Thank you for having shared it with me, by my side, physically or mentally. And after that? Well I take some weeks off to see my family, get to know two new nephew and niece, meet up with friends. Yes but then what? After that, I have other travel ideas... but I keep them for later.

Far South

Even when it seems to be the end, there is actually a bit more! Argentines are proud to call Ushuaia, the southernmost city in the world. In itself, this is true if city means more than 5,000 inhabitants. But on the other side of the Beagle Channel, a string of Chilean islands and islets were appealing. On the programme: the southernmost village, tourist office and hiking trail in the world! And to top it all, when you take this adventurous path, it exceeds 55°. No, not talking about the temperature, but South latitude.

So I spent a week in Puerto Williams on Navarino Island. A dream weather for the season. No other tourists/travelers since I took the last boat of the season. An immersion into the world of sailors who choose this small protected harbor to recharge the batteries. And superb views of the Beagle Channel and Ushuaia off and on islands around the Cape Horn. Even if I couldn't see the Antarctica, only a thousand kilometers away though, I've never been that close.

And then I came back to Punta Arenas, on a ferry for two days in the canals that surround these small islands at the tip of the continent. And from there I fly to Santiago where I'll spend my last evening and night of traveling with Ines and Lukas, two Germans I met in Torres del Paine. Then I'll head back to Paris! ...

Tierra del Fuego

Tierra del Fuego. Land at the end of the world. Land referred to as the ultimate human living place before the immense “White Continent”. Land that seemed unreachable to me a little more than a year ago, while I was still lost in the Far North.

Tierra del Fuego (“Land of Fire”). No, it is not for the temperature that this name has been assigned to this archipelago. But because Yagans (indigenous people) used to light fires on the coast like so many lights for boats on return from fishing in these regions often cloudy and rugged.

I reached the end of my trip in this area that I've been dreaming of discovering for such a long time. Thus I offered myself a treat. Stefan, a Swiss met on the trails of Torres del Paine, and I rented a mini-van (equipped for sleeping and cooking) to better explore the Greater Island of Tierra del Fuego for four days.

In Punta Arenas, we first crossed the Strait of Magellan (another mythical name in my imagination!). Then we started our trip anti-clockwise on the Chilean side: West, South, North, before to return to Punta Arenas. From there, I then took the bus to get to Ushuaia, in the Argentine Tierra del Fuego.

Distance with the mini-van: 1,285 km (800 mi)

Distance between Punta Arenas and Ushuaia: 625 km (390 mi)

The photos are going pretty well without comments. Landscapes: the colors of the autumnal forests were already mixing with snow capped peaks in the South of the island. And the vast prairies of the northern steppe provided a nice golden contrast with a particularly mild sky.

The Chilean side of Tierra del Fuego is a desert: some 7,000 inhabitants for an area the size of Belgium. But we met a few foxes, lots of ducks and geese, guanacos (not much smarter than their cousins the lamas), some rabbits and emus, and a colony of king penguins in Bahía Inutil (“Useless Bay”). I learned that the king penguin is a cousin of the emperor penguin. While the latter lives exclusively in Antarctica, the king penguin is smaller and inhabits sub-Antarctic territories: Tierra del Fuego and southern islands such as Kerguelen, Crozet and South Georgia.

A small anecdote peppered our journey to the land of adventures. Refueling on the island is not the easiest. But with a little planning and organization, it is usually fine ... except when the attendant reflexively put diesel instead of unleaded. More than an hour after refueling, the mini-van made its stubborn. Impossible to drive a meter further, this is when we realized the damage. In our misfortune, we still had the chance to be at this time on the shores of Lago Blanco, 100 meters from a club of amateur fishermen who helped us. And in the middle of this nowhere, to loose only 24 hours to repair and restart is to be doubly lucky.

Argentina occupies the eastern part of the Greater Island of Tierra del Fuego, where there are the two main cities of the archipelago: Rio Grande (65,000 inhabitants) on the Atlantic coast and Ushuaia (50,000 inhabitants) along the Beagle Channel. Ushuaia, which is pronounced u-sua-ya, has the distinction of being the only Argentine city geographically across the Andes and also the only one to bathe in the waters of the Pacific.

So here goes. Tuesday, April 9, 2013, at 6.10pm local time, I set foot in Ushuaia. I've reached my goal, at the end of the world, at the end of the road. Emotion and happiness to have met the challenge of connecting Fairbanks, Alaska, near the Arctic Circle, this city turned towards Antarctica. At that moment, I saw all these faces and all these landscapes, throughout 60,000 kilometers (37,300 mi), 19 countries, in 15 months. I would have liked all those who have supported me to be here at the end of the world. We would have had a toast and I could have thanked them/you once again.

Like me, you know that Ushuaia also means end of the trip. And of course, I'll be happy to be back home and meet family and friends. But let me enjoy for a few more days these southern lands, around Ushuaia (Argentina) and Puerto Williams (Chile). After that, I promise, I'm going home!

Torres del Paine

Not too much to tell, but a lot to see. A hiking week in total autonomy in Torres del Paine national park, in the Última Esperanza province ("Last Hope"!) in the extreme south of Chile. Even after a year traveling, I keep being amazed by the beauty of Nature. I let you discover.

El Chaltén, Ruta 40 and Perito Moreno

El Chalten, self-proclaimed youngest village in Argentina, was founded in October 1985. The Argentine government's strategic vision was obviously to occupy this geographical region where the borders are still the subject of disagreement. In fact, here, Chile and Argentina are in agreement that there is a disagreement. That's a good start!

This little village of 1,000 inhabitants off tourists is also modestly call National Capital of Trekking. Okay, there are beautiful walks nearby in the foothills of Mt. Fitz-Roy and Mt. Torres, one-day or several-day hikes. Fitz-Roy, what a funny name down her! Not very Hispanic! In fact, this rocky peak was named in honor of Sir Robert Fitz-Roy (1805-1865), commander of HMS Beagle, which travelled up the Santa Cruz River in 1834 and charted large parts of the Patagonian coast.

After a few days in El Chalten, I hit the road again: Ruta 40, the equivalent of the Carretera Austral on the Argentine side. The road is better paved, but absolutely no village, unlike Chile. It is a true desert, a windswept plain, large expanses of burnt grass. For example, between El Chalten and El Calafate (my next step), there are more than 200 km (125 mi), with just a small inn and restaurant in between. Considering that, it is easy to imagine how difficult it is to find people to hitch-hike. Either take the bus then.

In El Calafate, little (actually nothing) to do. It's a dead place. And it's actually here that died former president Nestor Kirchner (husband of the current president). Except from learning that, I went 75 km away (50 mi) to visit the famous Perito Moreno Glacier. You also want to know where the name comes from? Perito, which means specialist or expert in Spanish, is a term often used to describe Francisco Moreno (1852-1919), director of the Museum of the Argentine Scientific Society and a great explorer of the southern region of Argentina (who played a important role for the defense of the Argentine territory in the border conflict that opposed Argentina to Chile. Well, well, again!). He also established Scouting and Guiding in Argentina.

The glacier has a 5 km curved front (3 mi) to an average height of 75 meters (250 feet) above Lake Argentino, the equivalent of a row of 25-storey buildings. Glacier spreads to 30 km inland (18 mi), covering more than 250 km2. We understand that this ice mass pressures and makes the glacier advance (even if it is a rare phenomenon apparently). Its estimated average speed of progression is 2 meters per day, 700 m per year. So it creaks, it groans, it rumbles, it breaks down constantly.

The Perito Moreno looks a little like a meringue pie or a floating island (well, it was long ago since I last mentioned food in a post!). It moves in one leg - the Brazo Rico - of Lago Argentino, until it reaches the opposite bank (where visitors observe the glacier) and separate the Brazo Rico from the rest of the Lago Argentino. In this new small "lake", water can rise up to 30 meters above the rest of the Lago Argentino. This pressure on the glacier gradually hollow tunnel, which turns arch and eventually collapse. And the process begins again. Cycles can last two years for the shorter, up to 16 years for the longest recorded. Have to be there at the right time to see it all collapse. The last time was last year. But otherwise, every day swathes of ice break off. In a deafening noise, so it is the equivalent of a 25-storey building which collapsed and plunged into the water.

This is what is most impressive about this glacier, in the end. It is not necessarily more beautiful or more majestic than another. In fact, I almost preferred the glacier O'Higgins (see previous article): fewer tourists, more isolated, more difficult to access. And it was my first of its kind. However, the region and the glacier still worth a visit. You can judge for yourself...

Carretera Austral (4/4)

Wanting to cross the border with Argentina in this windswept region is a challenge. But with a little motivation, sufficient time ahead and enough battery for the camera, it is doable. And I don't regret anything.

The journey begins early in the morning on the shores of Lake O'Higgins, near the village of Villa O'Higgins, at the end of the Carretera Austral [editor's note: O'Higgins (first name, Bernardo) is a hero of the Chilean independence]. The three-hour boat ride leads on the other end of the lake. There is a possibility to extend for five hours to admire the glacier O'Higgins. The weather is clear, slightly cloudy, I'm going! So much for the schedule, I will camp en route if needed.

Navigating in another branch of the lake to the glacier. This is beautiful: the blue-green lake, snow capped mountains, hanging glaciers around and, at the end of Lake O'Higgins, here is Glacier O'Higgins (him again!). Patagonia as we imagine! Two crew members make their way through the icebergs to get ice and offer us a glass of whiskey with ice from this multi-millennium glacier.

End of fun for today, now begins the real work. There are 35 kilometers (22 miles) to cover before seeing the road: 20 km (12,5 mi) to Lago del Desierto, 15 km (9,5 mi) along the lake. Arrived at port at 5pm, I can only hope to arrive at the lake. Useless, I arrive at the border with Argentina, at kilometer 15. Never mind! I sleep there, under the stars, before the frontier sign, feet in Chile, head in Argentina. We talked about border in the previous article. I suspected Chile clinging to hers (you can refer to the history of the Pacific War, which finally deprived Bolivia's access to the sea). In this corner of Patagonia, even some trees are stamped with a panel looking like Chilean flag. And a small airstrip was built just before the border. In Chile, a square foot is a square foot, and it's worth defending it!

The next day, I walk closer to Mount Fitz-Roy. I even managed to capture its reflection in the Lago del Desierto in the morning. I finish along the lake. On the other side, Natalia and Max give me a ride to cover the 40 km (25 mi) separating me yet El Chalten. And here is a memorable border crossing in a remote area, probably the most adventurous of my trip, but not the last. I still have a few steps in Argentina, Chile and then again Argentina, ending in Ushuaia, Tierra del Fuego. I can truly feels that the end is coming soon. Another month to contemplate this wonderful nature.

And here is the whole "Carretera Austral" slideshow.

Carretera Austral (3/4)

Tuesday. A new day starts... a little late though. I slept badly, it was cold that night. Anyway. At 10am, I'm buying my bread-rolls for my sandwiches when I meet two French. Good news, bad news. The bad news is that it's been two hours since they started trying to hitchhike, without success. The good news is that I did well not to get up so early after all!

They abandon the idea of hitch-hiking to take the mid-day bus. I hit the road, while hoping the passage of a car (or the bus). After two hours of walking along the lake, only one car passed. And it was full. But eventually a truck stops. Milton transports soil for the maintenance of the Carretera Austral, a few kilometers away. He offers to drive me. I agree, saying that anyway the bus is not passed yet, so I can keep going. We discuss work on the Carretera, trucks, football, etc.. When I left him, a deliveryman (in contrast, not really talkative!) takes me to Cochrane. I'm happy. And as I am a lucky, I would still try my luck. This is a bonus, I'm not late on my program, but I want to move forward, and try to visit Tortel. Fifteen minutes of waiting and Carles, Esteban and Rosario stop their jeep. After making room for me in the car, they almost apologize telling me they are going to Tortel and not further!

Tortel is a unique place. A wooden walkway along the fjord, others on the slopes leading to the houses. The whole village is made out of wood, wooden streets, wooden houses. It is far from everything. The village has been connected to the mobile network for 6 months only. It's pretty funny because everyone walks around with his/her cell phone, like children showing off their new toys. Otherwise VHF radio is always used to communicate from house to house. The electricity comes from the North. And the village is connected to the Carretera Austral by a 25-km dirt road. As you can see, very thin connections to the outside world.

The next day, Wednesday, I walk again nearly three hours before, again, a construction truck stops. I cross the Río Bravo by boat. On the other shore, there are still 100 km (60 mi) before Villa O'Higgins. But the more I advance on this Southern Route, the fewer vehicles there are. Fair enough, it is a dead-end road. In Tortel, I might have taken advantage of the departure of five jeeps I've regularly seen for three days (and I'm rather proud to successfully keep their pace). But it would have been too easy! I therefore prepare myself to camp there in the middle of nowhere, and wait for the passage of the bus the next afternoon. But luckily enough, while I thought all the cars on the boat were full, the last to leave the boat beckons me. What a luck! They go to Villa O'Higgins.

I arrive at Villa O'Higgins, the end of the Carretera Austral. From Bariloche, it took me 8 days to cover these 1,400 km (870 mi). Again, in Villa O'Higgins, it is far from everything. At 500 km (300 mi) from the “big” city by a dirt road, a day walk from the village of El Chalten in Argentina. No access to open sea by boat but a small airfield. I suspect the Chilean government to subsidize the village to "mark his territory". As everywhere in Latin America, there are many areas of territorial conflict about borders. Regardless, I'm here and happy to be here.

Finally a small anecdote, I came face to face with Simon in the hostel that I have chosen. Simon is an Australian I left around a breakfast table in my hostel in Santiago, two months ago! I was leaving, he was arriving, but we got along well together. Since then, we each made our way and we are happy to meet again completely by chance, to tell our adventures and to give some recommendations for our respective developments, he is going North while I'm continuing South.

What's next? I'll be crossing the border with Argentina over the week-end. This is probably the most adventurous border crossing of my journey: a bus, three hours by boat five hours of walking, the border, the new boat (or 3 hours walk) and bus. And I'll be in El Chalten, Argentina. But that will be for the fourth and final episode of the series.

Carretera Austral (2/4)

Sunday morning. Fog banks are still struggling to completely clear the fjord. I wake up smoothly, with the smell of toasts. Don Luis, the owner of this small hospedaje (bed & breakfast South American version) is already in the kitchen. Homemade bread, homemade jam, scrambled eggs, and good coffee. What a great start to the day! The rain even finally stopped. During breakfast, I question Don Luis on life here in Puyuhuapi before and after the construction of the Carretera Austral.

He tells me how this little village, founded in 1935 by Germans fleeing Nazism, was completely isolated at the very end of the fjord, waiting patiently for supply boats fortnightly or monthly. It was doing as it could and was autonomous. Then the Carretera allowed more regular supplies. It also allowed the development of tourism. Yet, this is not Disney-World though, but some influx of people keen of outdoor and adventure, crisscrossing the southern route in one direction or the other, by car, by bike, in motorhome, by bus, or even hitch-hiking. Many Israelis, a lot of French and Germans too, and Chileans from the "North" willing to explore the boundaries of their own country.

And then at least two Belgians also, to my great joy! Jerome and Emilia decided to stop in front of my thumb up. Immediately, they make room in the minivan and Emilia moved to the back alongside their little Mateo, a year-old blonde face with a big smile. After several years on a mission in Central Africa, they are waiting for a new position for Jerome, in the field of forest management. The three of them left from Santiago late February. They will roam Patagonia for three months, along the Carretera Austral on the Chilean side of the Cordillera, then back from Ushuaia by Ruta 40 on the Argentine side.

In this quiet and peaceful Sunday, with warm little breads in my bag for lunch, I was rested and motivated after this two-night step in Puyuhuapi. And learning that Jerome and Emilia were going to the same destination and planning a short stop to take a look at the Ventisquero Colgante glacier, I was thrilled! So we spent the day together, a small hike to the glacier in the morning and drive in the afternoon under the rain again. The road is long for the driver: the rain and potholes demand attention at every moment.

After a very pleasant day of sharing experiences, we even realised they knew my blog. They visited it while preparing their own road trip in Patagonia. They dropped me in Coyhaique, the uninteresting regional capital. I stayed in a small hospedaje a bit peculiar. The owner never wanted to sacrifice her home to large distribution. Result: the big block store that occupies the entire block surrounds her house on three sides!

Monday morning. The day will be beautiful. It was announced several days ago and forecasters were not wrong. But I would not be French if I do not complain a bit: the wind is cold this morning. To avoid dying freezing on the roadside, I walk and put thumb up every time a car passes. After four rides of 5 to 10 kilometers each, Daniel stopped to offer me to go to my destination for the day. I was no longer believing. Two days in a row riding more than 200 km, nice performance on the Carretera Austral! I hope I can carry on this way. I must be on Friday at Villa O'Higgins, at the end of this Southern Route, and it's still 350 km away (200 mi) in even more remote places.

Few dozens of kilometers before Coyhaique, the landscape began to change. After the valleys and forested fjords, we arrived in more open places, dryer also, with less trees. The colors are beautiful: blue and white slightly cloudy sky, gold grilled grass, green groves, turquoise lakes and rivers, black summits, and white glaciers.

Few hours with Daniel were a good opportunity to discuss the project of hydroelectric power station (a series of five dams) where he works in the Cochrane area a little further south. For now, the government has approved the construction of the plant as such but not its connection to the rest of the network via a power line that will traverse the wilderness and inaccessible Patagonia. Opposition to the project is fierce. Environmental NGOs denounce the move of 19 families and flooding of different eco-systems impacting wildlife. And others such as Douglas Tompkins (founder of American clothing brands North Face and Esprit who acquires huge territories to help conserve the natural heritage of Patagonia) are concerned about the environmental impact, aesthetics and tourism.

By mid afternoon, I arrived at Puerto Río Tranquilo, on the shores of Lago General Carrera, beautiful blue-green lake in this mountain setting. I missed the boat ride to see the creeks but I still spent the night there. Enough road for today. I will continue tomorrow!

Note. Meanwhile the traditional slideshow (to be published in the last article of the series), you can click on the pictures to enlarge.

Carretera Austral (1/4)

It's 7am on Thursday. The clouds are still hanging to the surrounding mountains. In a valley of the Cordillera, the small village of Futaleufu slowly wakes up. Smoke from the wood stoves is escaping from the small wooden color-washed houses. It is not cold as such; it is just very humid. Leaning over my steaming coffee, I regularly take a look out the window. The rain has not stopped since late yesterday afternoon. Clouds do not know borders; I arrived in Chile but nothing changed. Instead, with the weather coming from the Pacific ocean, I do not expect changes today or in the next days.

It's been two days since I left Bariloche. In Argentina, I hitch-hiked with uneven success, but thanks to Cesar, Carlos and Pedro I managed to reach each of the steps set (Esquel, Argentina and Futaleufu, Chile). It makes me remember when I was hitch-hiking in the Northwest United States, and specially on the wonderful and wild Pacific coast.The climate is probably helping. But the traffic here is even less dense. On the Chilean side, there is a car coming every hour and a half! Fortunately, there is a 95% chance it stops and picks me up. Hence, the average waiting time is just as good.

Click on the map to enlarge

Today's program: join the road No. 7, the famous Carretera Austral (the southern route). From Puerto Montt, the terrain becomes increasingly hostile to human settlements. About 1,600 km (1,000 mi), the Andes ends in a succession of mountains, lakes, fjords, rain forests, glaciers, until Tierra del Fuego. This area is difficult to access. At least it benefited from a "positive" outcome of General Pinochet's dictatorship: a road (sometimes asphalted) going south to Villa O'Higgins. I can not go further and will be forced to return to Argentina, El Chalten.

Between Futaleufú and the Carretera Austral I was led by Walter, happy to present the region, to name lakes and streams, to describe the colors of the water and its incredible transparency also. Not going through the whole way, I then had to walk two hours before joining Villa Santa Lucía, on the Carretera. En route, I crossed a jeep camper. Far, I don't know what intuition convinced me that they were French. The closer they drove, the more I recognized a European plate with a French flag. I stopped them and there we go: Patrice and Véronique, two smiling and enthusiastic Normans, told me about their road-trip throughout South America for two or three years. Having already spent six months doing what I intend to do on foot in one and a half months, I understand they have planned much longer!

Arriving at Villa Santa Lucía, on the Carretera, I thought and hoped there will be more traffic. No. I had to wait an hour, still in the rain, before Lucas stops. As drivers decide to stop or not, when you hitch-hike, you also have a second and a half to decide whether or not to get on board. Twice in the US, I went saying to myself with uncertainty "let's go, it should work!". Lucas had an strong accent that I could only from time to time understand and a strange behavior. Anyway, the incessant rain and the prospect of arriving safely at night made me jump in. He begun by sharing his sandwich with me. NIce. But then he also shared the bottle of Vermouth (Martini kind of)! Here I begun to understand why I couldn't understand everything. With alcohol, articulation was not his best asset anymore. Once driving his van, Lucas was dreaming himself as Sebastien Loeb [the nine-time French rally world champion]. After two days hitch-hiking in the rain and wind, I tried not to see that very nearly bumped into a goat, a public work truck, the back of a cow and a number of potholes. Instead, I even managed to escape my attention and sleep a bit thanks to the heating of the van.

Arrived safely in La Junta, I left the next morning. Patrick and Rose dropped me in Puyuhuapi where I stayed overnight. It is a charming little village on a lake with a small "Danger Tsunami" sign... oh yeah! In fact, the Pacific reaches the bottom of the small fjord. Very remote village which horizon is blocked by clouds, it really looks like the end of the Earth. It is far and wild, but it is beautiful! It is cold and wet, but this is adventure!

Nico el Patagónico

Hey! This is it, you can now call me El Patagónico (the Patagonian in English). Indeed, with a certain emotion, I arrived in Patagonia. San Carlos de Bariloche (or simply Bariloche) is my first step in the Argentinian Patagonia. Emotion and pride also, I admit, to succeed in reaching the Great South from Alaska safely, in time and (almost ...) in the budget. Finally I am there! And that's what moves me from the start: to discover Patagonia was the original idea around which I then built my Pan-American route.

Patagonia, what is it? where is it? For me, this is a wild land to explore. For geographers, this is the most southern region of the world, except Antarctica. For politicians, it is five Argentinian provinces and five Chilean regions. For some of you, it's only a clothing line. And for nature lovers, these are mountains, glaciers, lakes, trees, condors, penguins and southern summer sun that still shines enough to warm us ... but for how much longer?

I will spend a month and a half going down the 3,000 km (2,000 mi) that separate me yet from Ushuaia, crisscrossing the Argentine-Chilean border from time to time. My first step, accompanied by Aïssata and Jack (two very good friends from France), made me stop in Bariloche on the shores of Lake Nahuel Huapi. And here I fell in love almost instantaneous. I certainly rank the lake among the most beautiful ones in the world. I'll let you discover in the photos.

On-site program: a lot of hiking in the mountains, on the shores of the lake, on a day or for several days, and generally under the sun. Also my first rafting experience (you'll see in the gallery of portraits to the Photos page). Very good restaurants with beef to die for. And good Argentine wine, unsurprisingly never bad. All this bodes well for the rest of my stay in the region!

Buenos Aires

To be honest, I've been stuck on writing this 100th blog-post for two weeks now. I don't have all the pictures I wanted to take for various reasons. And I don't want you to overwhelm you with all kinds of explanations in the city.

So let's do simple, just some pictures. You'll see mainly the popular neighborhood of La Boca, where Italians started to migrate, very colorful: once boats were completely painted, they were happily doing the same on their house with the left-over pots of paint. For soccer fans, Diego Maradona originally from Buenos Aires played a season in the club Boca Juniors. Finally, Buenos Aires is where we traveled directly to Bariloche, the gateway to Patagonia!

Buenos Aires will remain for me a city with very European architecture as I had not seen since the beginning of my journey. It will remain as the city where I welcomed my friends Aïssata and Jacky from France and spend a fortnight with them, and the city where I said goodbye to two of my greatest traveling buddies: Kati is heading North to Brazil where she will fly to Galway, Ireland (via New York) and Henning ends her stay in South America before returning to Cologne, Germany. It was a real pleasure to meet them (in the Costa Rican mountains for the first, in a bus to Cuenca, Ecuador for the other) and travel that much with them.

Uruguay

Brief summary of the previous episodes. After hitch-hiking the north-western Argentina with Fred, I joined Henning, my German traveling friend, in Asunción. We spent a week in Paraguay, then a few days in the South of Brazil to visit the Iguazu Falls, before heading to Uruguay.

Uruguay is a geographical dwarf, sandwiched between Brazil and Argentina (nearly two-thirds of South America). Its level of wealth per capita places it between Chile and Brazil, which is not nothing (especially when trying to travel cheap!) And a nice human development index: second of the continent between Argentina and Chile.

I saw the Atlantic coast for the first time since last September in Cartagena, Colombia. It was full of vacationers coming from southern Brazil and Argentina and pseudo-hippies who don't seem bothered by the high standard of life. After a night in a tent, just behind the Uruguayan border, Henning and I landed in Valizas from southern Brazil. It was carnival week, so holiday for everyone, people from everywhere. We only stayed a short day just to say we did dip in the Atlantic.

And then we went to Montevideo, the capital of the country, on the banks of the Río de la Plata, the same vast estuary that goes along Buenos Aires, 200 km to the west. Relaxation, cooking, great time during two days, hosted by Alejandro, a CouchSurfer, and time to stroll around the city emptied of its inhabitants due to Carnival (public holidays). Montevideo, a strange name: the Spanish settlers had named the place "Monte VI De Este a Oeste" ("the sixth mount from east to west") navigating Río de la Plata from east to west. Regardless if it is true, in any case Montevideo has the distinction of being the southernmost capital city of the Americas. In the world, only Wellington, New Zealand and Canberra, Australia do better.

Henning and I ended our too short week in the charming small Uruguayan town of Colonia. We strolled in the oldest city in the country (1680): a piece of wall, a mini-lighthouse, narrow cobbled streets, charming houses and beautiful flowers. Buenos Aires is in front (well, 50 kms anyway!). We took the boat and arrived in the vast metropolis, four times more populous than the entire Uruguay. The contrast is striking. There I met with Aïssata and Jack, my friends just arrived from France who will spend two weeks discovering Argentina with me.

Iguazú Falls

Well, I'll let you look at the photos of Iguazu Falls. But just before, without flooding you (oh! what a funny wordplay!!) here are some pieces of information ...

We talk about Falls, or more technically cataracts. In Spanish and Portuguese, they are called also "cataratas". And the name of Iguazú comes from the Guarani (local Amerindian language) "big water". So original!

They are beautiful, powerful and impressive waterfalls. It's a lot of water. I do not know who counted the drops, but it seems that there are 6 million liters of water drop in the falls every second.

So, it gives a beautiful collection of 275 waterfalls (90 meters for the highest), nicely spread over a front of nearly two miles. And the little man that I am, accompanied by hundreds of his peers, can move fairly move around, along or above the impressive water curtains, on the Argentinian side one day, on the Brazilian one the next day.

The falls are located on the Río Iguazú, which materializes the border between Brazil and Argentina. The orientation of the reverse J-shaped system gives technically 80% of the falls to Argentina. On both sides, national parks were created to protect this exceptional natural site and are listed as World Heritage by UNESCO since 1984 (Argentina) and 1987 (Brazil). And it is not very far either the Triple Frontier between Argentina, Paraguay and Brazil.

Finally, for those who want comparison, the Niagara Falls on the border between the United States and Canada are spread over a little more than a mile (320m on the U.S. side and 790m on the Canadian side) for 50m high are therefore less important. In contrast, Victoria Falls (between Zambia and Zimbabwe) are higher than Iguazú: about 110 meters, but only 1700 meters wide.

From Iguazú, Henning and I had planned to rally the Uruguayan coast, via the South of Brazil. We spent two days in Porto Alegre at Betsy and Enderson's. Two very friendly CouchSurfers (she is originally from the US and he is Brazilian) in this quiet town with plenty of parks. Then we reached the border on the coast. Large distances, again we failed at hitch-hiking. That said, we were happy to see again the Atlantic Ocean.

Unexpected Paraguay

Readers of the first hour, I owe you a little explanation. Indeed, Paraguay was not in my list of countries to visit. Worse, I was even condescending enough to consider it as a "useless" country, where there was not much to do or see.

All I knew of Paraguay, was the name of its capital (Asunción or in its longer version: Nuestra Señora Santa María de la Asunción!) and the fact that last June the right-wing opposition had cleverly hidden into a destitution what was in fact a coup to get rid of the former bishop who was elected president four years ago. Obviously, with this level of knowledge, I only had my prejudices on which to base my opinion.

Then I recalled the advice of three cyclists from Normandy, France with whom I had exchanged email when I was in Portland (Oregon, USA) last March. My ex-colleague and friend Antoine also warmly recommended me to go see what's going on on the other side of Río Paraguay. Finally, Nina and Steve with whom I shared a 4x4 to discover South-Lipez and Salar de Uyuni (Bolivia) in December had convinced me that I was missing something if I did not add that country in my list.

Finally, it happens that two very good friends are planning to visit me in Argentina from mid-February. So, between the departure of my parents in Santiago and their arrival to Buenos Aires, I had three weeks to fill in. Thus gradually came to my mind a stay in Uruguay, then a detour by the Iguazú Falls and finally a week in Paraguay. For obvious reasons of geography, I eventually reversed the order.

So I spent a week in Paraguay, where I left Fred with whom I had hitch-hiked the northwest corner of Argentina and I met Henning my traveling companion of November and December (Peru-Bolivia). And finally, like Panama, I was captivated by the Paraguay and promised myself stop being a dumb ass who thinks he knows and can judge without knowing.

And since there was supposedly not so much to do, what have I finally got up to my program? Lots of things! I started by visiting Asuncion. This is a sweet mix of colonial architecture and decrepit buildings straight from the 1960-70 (questionable aesthetics!). It is a gentle atmosphere of tranquility despite the size of the city. It was two nights in a family pension recommended by Nina & Steve and whose manager was very sweet and as talkative as interesting. And finally, we took greedy pleasure without shame or restraint: empanadas de jamón y queso (turnovers stuffed with ham and cheese).

In Asunción, I also met Rosa, an interesting personality recommended by my friend Emilie. Rosa opened the feminist cultural centre called Serafina eight years ago. It is above all a place and an association that helps lesbians (and to a lesser extent gays and transsexuals). But it is also a structure that advocates for the rights of lesbians, whose work was recognized in December 2011 by the French Republic’s Human Rights Prize. Interesting exchange on the situation and the rights of homosexuals in Paraguay, especially when they are put into perspective with the debate in France about same-sex marriage.

With Henning, we decided then to go visit the Mennonite communities of the Paraguayan Chaco, in the great North-West of the country. Mennonites? Yes, it is a religious group from Northern Germany and the Netherlands, following the precepts of a certain Menno Simons (1496-1561). Chaco Mennonites settled there in 1930, after being expelled from Communist Russia (where religious freedom was gone). In this particularly arid and inhospitable, environment, they mainly live on cattle (dairy and beef) and a bit of agriculture (peanuts and sesame). The community is divided into three colonies of fifteen villages each. At first, about 25 families made up a village. Today, they are 18,000 living in the Paraguayan Chaco. They speak a dialect German (the Plattdeutsch) and have their own educational system, German and Spanish, enhanced by the Paraguayan State. The reason for their presence? Mennonites generally look for places where they can be both guaranteed religious freedom and at the same time enjoy a certain autonomy vis-à-vis the welcoming State. Given the isolation of the Chaco, one can easily understand that the region met their criteria. So for years, Mennonites were exempt from military service (now abolished in Paraguay), not paying taxes and obeying no administrative authority from Paraguay. How does one survive in such an environment if it is so inhospitable? You adopt first a motto: "Gemeinnutz vor Eigennutz" ("The general interest before self-interest"). And then more concretely, you create cooperative, you help each other, you are disciplined and you all have the same ideal. And obviously, it works! Again, I'm glad to have dipped a little in this world that I knew by name only. I had some prejudices: people living and dressing as in the eighteenth century, etc.. No, we do not speak of Amish. Mennonites are just white men and women who speak German in the heart of South America!

We managed to hitch-hike back to Asunción, which left us naively believe we could easily hitch-hike to explore the south of Paraguay. Nay! It is a mode of travel that is not so widespread as that. Drivers made back strange signs, like raising the thumb also (saying “thanks, I'm fine!”) when they did not lift another finger! So we ended up in a bus after waiting (too much!) at the roadside.

We visited an old Jesuit mission in Trinidad. Rather than writing too much, I lazily suggest you read the very good Wikipedia article. And finally, we ended up visiting the Itaipú dam (not to be mistaken with Iguazú Falls which are not far away). For 30 years, it was the largest dam in the world before the coming into operation of the Three Gorges Dam in China in 2009. The dam is built on the Paraná River between Paraguay and Brazil. A bilateral treaty signed in 1973 allocates half the 20 turbines to Paraguay, the other half to Brazil. But as two turbines are sufficient to meet 80% of electricity demand in Paraguay, it leases its other eight to Brazil that can thus satisfy a quarter of its electricity needs with 18 turbines. And these are not small turbines! By comparison, all the water from the Iguazú Falls (you'll see pictures soon) would have the capacity to feed only two generators!

What I liked in this country in the end? First, the fact that there are very few tourists or travelers. After that, people are very friendly and very welcoming (except for hitch-hiking). And the country is beautiful: arid and flat in the vast northern region, more hilly and green (with a very red earth) in the south. But let's be honest, the cities are pretty ugly. And last prejudice, Paraguay is not a poor country, not super rich neither, but pretty well developed. The standard of living is quite high and people seem happy to live there. I eventually understood that!