Mount&blade Actİvatİon

Chile, photos, captions ... (17)

Santiago


I chose to refer to the Chilean capital through a small photo essay in black and white made Sunday, December 10, 1989 at about 11am. It seems necessary to give these details because this was a historic moment not only for all but Santiago Chile. That day in the park O 'Higgins, stood the closing speech of the campaign by Patricio Aylwin, the Christian Democratic candidate for president who would be held four days later. The first elections "authorized" by the dictator Augusto Pinochet since he took power in September 73. Patricio Aylwin, proclaimed candidate of the consultation was then the leader of a somewhat heterogeneous as it included no fewer than 17 parties, labor movements and pressure groups sometimes very distant from each other on the ideological level. But Communists, Christian Democrats and liberals "moderate" conscious of the urgent need to shelve their old divisions formed but for the fact that a single coherent front against the dictatorial regime in place. Four days later, the results would also be no appeal since Aylwin would win the elections with 55.2% of the vote against the candidate of Büchi UDI (supported by Pinochet) with 29.4% and 15.4% for the candidate Errazuriz. An independent candidate is proclaiming Centre - belonging to one of the oldest and richest families in the country, the owner of an incredible number of companies and mines. Patricio Aylwin's victory certainly did not radically change the life of the Chilean economic or social development, especially that Pinochet had taken care to name for many years to come his cronies to key positions, especially in the judiciary and the army, but In any case, this election was going to breach the symbolic and allow democracy to repoint the nose. And that's what you could feel this Sunday, December 10 in Park O 'Higgins, where nearly a million people had made an appointment for a giant feast, moving and hopeful. He also seemed to evoke this symbolic piece of history today as Chile in two days, June 26, 2008, we celebrate the centenary of the birth of
President Salvador Allende.


"Workers of my fatherland, I think in Chile and its destiny. Other men will overcome this gray and bitter moment in which treason seeks to prevail. Be aware that much sooner than later, great avenues will open up the pass by which the free man, to build a better society. Long live Chile! Long live the people! Long live the workers!
are my last words and I am certain that my sacrifice is not in vain. I'm sure that at least it will be a moral lesson that will punish felony, cowardice and betrayal (last words of Salvador Allende, 11 September 1973)

Gift Family Member Property

Chile, photos, captions ... (16)

Rodeo Campo de Ahumada (2 / 2)

The first candidates have just arrived at the rodeo. They are a little ahead. They are also very young. Some have only twelve or thirteen. Their mount is well maintained and the habit of the great days gives these riders look a singularly serious and haughty. All donned the poncho (the manta) ceremonial, gaiters leather-finely-wrought and silver spurs on wheels. A straw hat with wide brim completes the package. This is maintained by a thin leather girdle that youth "centaurs" squeeze between their teeth.

Of all the roads surrounding this convergent other groups of competitors. This time it's grown men. Huasos the face brown and weathered by the sun. Globetrotters shaped by weather and a lifetime devoted to rides in the mountains.

Now you can hear in the distance a heavy pounding: the trampling hooves cracked the runway. The arrival of the herd is imminent. The conversation fell silent and everyone has abandoned its task to verify the rumor. In fact, fifty cows and bulls gleaming carried by six men have just appeared. The corral is barely opened nervously rushes into the cattle. Now everything is ready for the meeting.

on the register provided for this purpose, an officer advises carefully the names of participants and the amount paid for each registration. This Sunday will be 25 in total, ages 12 to 65 years to compete for this friendly game. Friendly, because the points that each contestant will garner today will not be considered for the national finals of Rancagua. No matter, everyone is here for fun and about thirty spectators ran from the immediate vicinity will be well enough to create an atmosphere worthy of the biggest competitions.

The principle of the Chilean rodeo, to be simple demands no less from the teams involved a fair amount of skill and great speed of action. Each round takes place on the same ritual. First, two riders, partners for the occasion arise front of the jury before running the first lap as a hello to the public. Once this formality, the bovine - cow or bull is finally introduced unceremoniously in the center of the arena through a narrow corridor connecting it to the corral. Without further ado, team members begin to pursue him and then try to immobilize it in a specified time and a specific point in the chamber, where it was padded so as not to injure the animal .


The first beast committed this afternoon is a young bull and nervous especially nimble. After a couple of minutes it will reach to escape, leaping nimbly over the enclosure and face brushing against the passage of one of the few spectators leaning on the wall of protection.

A little later, after a series of rounds of excellent craftsmanship, provided that a neophyte can tell, it was the turn of an ox a moving placidly to pitiful posture in the team. Neither huasos howling or the neighing of horses nor the whip violently firmly told not managed to remove the animal from its torpor and veal. He had also the combined efforts of four or five men to hunt the unworthy animal from the enclosure.

Apart from these two games somewhat comical throughout the day, ran without a hitch and the sun in the late afternoon, began to raise the mountains surrounding beautiful colors purple and ocher.

A detail perhaps might tarnish this Sunday and it felt festive break from the organizers a vague uneasiness. He murmured in fact that the orchestra would not come.
It even came to send a jeep with a winch if the vehicle musicians would have fallen into a rut. After one hour, the jeep came back, but still no new artists.

Although there was one, the party should continue at all costs. Already, the paper plates were responsible for grilled meat, salad peasant Coriander and consistent flat bread baked in the oven. Empty bottles began to strew the prairie and around the tables, the first unsuccessful applicants justify in great detail why they were disqualified. At one

GameCafé where we had been invited to share the cup of friendship, someone we explained that there were more than five or six years more than any gringo was spent at Campo de Ahumada, at least to attend the rodeo. The mere fact of being here so much we thought was worth "admiration" as affectionate hugs. Several people had even offered to host us for the night.

Among the organizers of this tournament, there was also the one that everybody familiarly called Don Segundo. He was officially appointed to introduce us to his friends and huasos each table, a round of beer or wine was offered in honor of these foreigners come so far to applaud the exploits of cowboys Cordillera!

Don Segundo was not really an authentic huasos and perhaps he had never ridden a horse, but its function as a paramedic in the region had led to bond with everyone and it seemed better than anyone about the lives and customs of the peasants a little forgotten. You

-go account, he kept repeating like a mantra, that is for us a festival like this?
- Formerly (at the time of Pinochet) a Such an event would necessarily have the endorsement of the police, municipal authorities or of any provincial representative. ... Sometimes the paperwork did derail the project or else they would lead so late that it was impossible to organize the rodeo ... Don Segundo
And, after each "discourse," to raise his glass to the health of this country finally free.

Even if these words cast a doubt left in the eyes of some, everyone agreed, however, raise a toast to the reborn democracy that some seem to learn through one of its most tenuous.

The moon had just appeared between the peaks when finally arrived the orchestra. There were three musicians - an accordionist, a guitarist and a bassist to get everything stiff a break winded and dilapidated.

Without delay, we hastened to install the generator. The dance-clay, immediately lit up and the trio was beginning, in the greatest indifference, a directory of cuecas particularly confusing. Not that the musicians were poor or uncoordinated but the generator, located behind by his chaotic din, instruments and melodies rendered hopelessly unrecognizable.

Anyway, the dance in time was not interested yet grnad world and he would have had to divert more of the manly bar its entire public conversations full gallop, fury and dust.

In fact, the biggest challenge to overcome for small orchestra was likely to face an audience with the gender distribution was so unfair.
There were about fifty men for four or five shy female partners! And they were obviously very latest contribution. Just a dance she had ended the breathless rider had to rush back with another boy. Male partners, who for the most part, had kept their boots and gaiters. Others had not even taken the precaution of withdrawing their spurs jingling wheels which also merrily to the rhythm of rumba and other zambas.
When I asked why Don Segundo huasos these wives were so rare, he replied with disarming aplomb he had to have someone take care of livestock and children ...! And for that, there was no Sunday ! The hours passed

happy and carefree. At our table the conversation took a turn increasingly lively and drink followed another with a regularity bordering on saturation.

Like wine, pisco and beer began to take effect, we began to worry about the state we would finish this evening and especially how we would make our way back to our tent .
Don Segundo, always in good spirits and never caught short, a moment of imagined us back to our camp on his own moped. The idea was generous, but judging by his approach and his eyes flickering slightly blurred, I think it would have been unable to differentiate its machine of a nag. As I told him about my fears of falling into a ravine, Don Segndo burst out laughing and said solemnly: "If
such a disaster should happen, I can promise you that we would make every effort to make our annual rodeo when your name is in memory of your passage.

More seriously, the paramedic finally admitted he was no longer in its best form and he would not insist further. He escorted us, however, some hundreds of meters on the way home, just like one of those housewives escorting their guests to the edge of the property.
These few steps away from the atmosphere would also become loud, he said, recovering his spirits somewhat.

We stopped at the edge of a pen, this place was an old almond tree instead of terminal. Don Segundo had decided to leave us there. But before we part, he insisted on giving us a gift to say the least unusual.

From his pocket he took out what I thought was a piece of cardboard oily.
-This is for the road. That's what I better to offer. It's called the "jerky". It's smoked horse meat. All huasos outweigh it in their bags when they go through the mountain ... ..



Unbeknownst to everyone, the way back had turned into a snake light. Intense moonlight had snatched from the abyss. This was not the summary track this morning but a long casting phosphorescent unwinding at the option of chaos and our steps become uncertain.

Sorority Initiations Rules

Chile, photos, captions ... (15)

Rodeo Campo de Ahumada (half)


The bus has just left the terminus of El Cobre, the last hamlet served by the rural line from Los Andes. From here, he does are more than rely on our good fortune - or our feet to reach Campo de Ahumada. As the driver advised us we crossed the little bridge over the river to wait for a vehicle that we care and we do browse the last 20 km ... And an hour ago that we're already there. So far, only a man passed that way. A man already old, white hair, slightly hunched and panting under the weight of two heavy suitcases. I recognized him. He was among the passengers on the bus from Los Andes and was down two or three stops before us.


Larger Map

The man stopped a moment at our height, to chat a bit and probably also to catch his breath. For many years he scoured the region to sell from door to door, fabric, a bit of haberdashery and household linens. Her clientele was mainly composed of farmers. At Campo de Ahumada, however, there 's going again. He said there were too few people there and that now the age, he had no strength to climb up there on foot.
The merchant left us these words and wished us "lucky".

Rather than wait for more of a hypothetical vehicle, we finally decided to start despite the oppressive heat.

At the end of each curve, we hoped that the relief would flatten out, if only a few hundred meters back story some strengths, but each time the road straightened more. Despite our walking shoes, our ankles were twisted more often on rocky ground and scree.

Then a little girl, emerged from nowhere, appeared hopping merrily to meet us. As we asked if the road was still long, she replied that she did not know exactly, but then disappeared, as if to apologize for not being able to answer us, she handed us that one of two oranges held in his hands. Probably a gesture of good omen, since this is when, like a mirage, that far-below-a volute dust rose into the sky. Disappearing and reappearing constantly around every shoelace, the cloud grew larger and finally, the rumor of an engine became audible. The mechanics had to suffer. The vehicle must also be old or very responsible. When the little red truck passed close to us, it turned out he was not only very old but also very busy .... This did not prevent the driver and his wife to slow down and we cry if we wanted to climb back, he had to act quickly because the engine had a tendency to if "suppress" and no longer to restart. Just stuck between two bags of cement and other building materials, we restarted without delay.

After an hour's drive abominable, as painful for the axles of the vehicle to the kidneys of passengers, the van finally coming to a stop. The shed
before which we were arrested was owned by "our" driver. It was a rather crude and rustic building that was acquired along with the vast land on which it was erected. This old barn they would soon act as a secondary residence. The surrounding land would be for their shortly planted with almond and olive trees. At least that was the dearest wishes of the bus driver for whom Santiago pollution and stress of city life became intolerable. He also intends, upon the retirement time came, to devote part of his estate to the establishment of a campsite. Our presence here was perhaps a good omen for a successful future business. In any case, we would be today the very first campers to enjoy this wild and bucolic landscape tenderly.

-course, a serious improvement of the road accessing the site would be an additional guarantee success, but in this area, nothing is yet planned for several years lamented the future boss of camping!


Throughout the conversation, our guests had yet to inform us that the Rodeo Campo de Ahumada this hard-to-mountain hike really was not extraordinary.

"You know, this is really" wild "there. There are even some who never descended to the city all their lives. By
-cons, if you really want to see beautiful rodeos, that he should go ... Rancagua

This phrase we'd already heard the watch in Villegas would remain intact, however, not our spirits. We would go at any cost, and on foot, because nobody wanted us there. The couple agreed, however, that we planted our tent in the garden.

After an hour's walk on the steep foothills of the mountain, we ultimately arrive at a sort of vast grassy dotted here and there with groves, scrub and wildflowers. In looking more closely, we saw a few houses, a small school, barns and corrals scattered without any concern of urban organization. Each owner seemed to have obeyed the rules intuitive consisting not to invest but a landscape to blend in him without disturbing the original balance.

In fact, this Sunday, the real heart of Campo de Ahumada was "media-luna (half moon). An arena rustic, semi-circular made of stones, pebbles and mud. It was closed by a slight wooden fence behind which was a corral where soon would be grouped cattle selected for the competition.

For now the hour was still in preparation: here, the farm boys moisten the soil before the test. Further, a peasant was testing one by one the bulbs that illuminate the chain of the ball tonight. Meanwhile, women in charge of the grill vigorously fanned glowing embers. A little apart, two goats butchered waiting at the end of a rope attached to a branch. The dogs, well trained, would pretend to ignore the temptation to close at muzzle.

There again, a small group of burly ended tension of the sheet in which the musicians would just now animate the evening. Tables, for now still scattered in the meadow had been borrowed the nearby school. Moreover, we were told, if the rodeo this Sunday engendered some profits, they would be used to buy school supplies and to renovate the school as much as possible.

For now, only the bar and put a board on trestles, was already operational. Since the years that this rodeo is held, it was always the same person who was responsible. Suffering from stomach ulcers, he was alone among his peers that they can not absorb every drop of liquor. The ideal bartender, after all!

(based travel diary from December 91)

Lifetime Fitness Membership Dues

Chile, photos, captions ... (14)

Three small steps on the road to Santiago (3 / 3)


Los Andes is a pretty village perched at 700 meters above sea level on the foothills of the Cordillera, and crossed by a torrent - Aconcagua-.
In the surrounding countryside, much land is devoted to the cultivation of grapes and peaches. Here and there, one can also notice some plots dedicated to the almond and olives. To some extent, although this is not noticeable and no-guide does not mention it exceptionally healthy climate of the region also allows marijuana to develop an entirely correct.

But despite some buildings with colonial architecture, beautiful tree-lined streets of plane and a lively Place d'Armes, nothing really remarkable incentive for the traveler to extend his stay here too much. Especially since this region is described as unstable in terms LBS. The reputation of Los Andes in Chile even be one of the cities of more vulnerable to earthquakes. This also requires local architects for their buildings to provide a dedicated network of steel beams designed to increase cohesion.

And this is the home of Villegas, our guest tonight. A family of Calama an engineer, met earlier, we had recommended.
The letter delivered by the engineer of Calama for Mrs. Villegas was also very helpful and although we never saw the content, we won this letter to be received in real friends. For

the first time since the beginning of this trip, we were greeted by a relatively wealthy family. The only father's salary had been purchased this small but comfortable house and a small car. Lada a gray-green.

The three boys in the house, they followed their studies successfully. One of them, even the seniors begin university next year in Santiago. Ms. Villegas

addition, playing, as the saying goes the role of housewife , a sixth person shared the life of this family, "The Grandpa" as everyone called him here. He was the father of Mr. Villegas, a former lieutenant commander in retirement. His main occupation was to listen at full volume it maintained its transistor moreover glued to the ear. It was a little dull because the frequent gunnery exercises he had damaged eardrums. Today, it was imperative not to disturb him because it was the retransmission of an important game. Colo-Colo-the team "fetish" national-was apparently once again demonstrated its superiority to judge by the hysterical comments presenter whose "Gooooooooooal!" reverberated throughout the house.

The head of the family would soon return, and in the meantime, Ms. Villegas evoked the work of her husband to "Minería Andina. A copper mine owned by Codelco's powerful, proprietary consortium, in particular, of the Chuquicamata mine in Calama.

For over ten years Jaime Villegas occupied a position of responsibility in service "maintenance of cartage. Like liked to emphasize his wife, this job was not only well paid, but in addition, as all employees and workers in this sector benefited Jaime significant benefits including the granting of mortgage loans at very advantageous rates was not the slightest.

The door had just opened and already the youngest son would run to his father to drive it bluntly in the living room where we were staying.

Jaime was the epitome of good living: Just the usual introductions completed, it urged us not wait any longer to toast new friendships Belgo-
Chilean! The bottles of Pisco and Coca-open soon and mixed- would soon seal the friendly encounter. Meanwhile, Ms. Villegas had seized the box where she kept her family photos and postcards that she regularly received from parents and friends of expatriates in Europe.
"Look" she said, I've even some of your country! "

It was, for most, views of Brussels. Pictures taken a little outdated in the late sixties, judging by the line of cars or cut clothing from people in these pictures.

At the request of our guests we will try best to comment images, especially those where one could see, in the words of Jaime's younger son, "an incredible place to architecture fairytale."

Suddenly, the hostess arose and, looking somewhat embarrassed, said it was time to think about serious things. Our impromptu visit was somewhat upset the plans of Mrs. Villegas and culinary latter confessed that she had much left to make a meal worthy of the occasion. Despite our protests, it was decided, with authority, that we would travel together to the supermarket.

soon once said ... crammed into the small of Lada Villegas. God thank you, neither the youngest nor the grandfather, the ear still glued to her transistor, had wanted to accompany us. The supermarket

Los Andes, with rare exceptions, like any other large surface: Even prescription products, even soporific music, even commercials, even garish lighting, ... To pass the time, I tried to unsuccessfully to flush out some food a little bit exotic. Only an unfortunate pan filled with lemons Pica distinguished labels and bottles of wine at a pinch could prove that we were Chile. And yet.

is leaving the shop he had to seek local peculiarities. Just after the boxes, there were a dozen children aged eight or nine years, bringing the dust with the logo of the store, which was busy. Some packed up customer purchases and others were proposing to carry packages to cars in exchange for some coins. Outside, other kids still running in all directions, helping motorists to park in their designating slots.

In the crush, a farmer on the blue Work and straw hat was busy pasting posters on the window outside the store in general indifference. It was a small notice, awkwardly calligraphy and photocopied on poor quality paper where you could read a "Grand Rodeo followed by a fiesta huaso be held tomorrow night in the hamlet of Campo de Ahumada" . It was stated that "The atmosphere is warm and free admission.

When I asked Jaime where was this village, he replied, with a rather disdainful pout, that this place was not very away from Los Andes, only 30 or 40 kilometers, but the road was in such a state that no more buses only went there. Even the taxis were refusing the race so far.
- In any case, "said Jaime, the finest rodeos are held in Rancagua, south of Santiago, at the end of January. If you're still in the area at that time, I'd be happy to take you there. But Campo de Ahumada, there is the bush, I really do not want to go.

(A Campo de Ahumada)

Sample Of Vote Of Thanks For Wedding

Chile, photos, captions ... (13) Failure of computer

Three small steps on the road to Santiago (2 / 3)


The episode of the destruction of our tent by mysterious and invisible assailants forced us to spend a day in the seaside town of La Serena. A day devoted to repair our equipment and especially to sew up the tent. The very next day we took the road and leaving La Serena, always stop. This is not easy. We're loaded like mules and drivers do not really want today to clean up their vehicle to accommodate two backpackers lost and disheveled.

A first vehicle, however we charge for a tiny path to the exit of the city, a second to the port of Coquimbo (just 15 miles away), then a third to a place called "Termas de SOCOSE . With the fourth car of the day we travel the longest stretch, about a hundred kilometers to the village of Huentelauquen. It is a messenger of the army with carrying two military-looking affable. They quickly engage the conversation with banal subjects. When we ask what is our country and we tell them the Belgium, one of them exclaims. "It's amazing, my maternal grandmother is Brussels, and to clarify ... it just Schaerbeek! . His companion nods and adds that there in the region "a lot" of people from Belgium. Somewhat naively perhaps, we will respond there is also a lot of Chileans in Belgium and particularly in our region, near Liege. That's when, suddenly the tone of the conversation turns sour. One of two soldiers began to get angry, and almost-screaming-tells us that these Chileans installed in Europe and especially in Belgium are the shame of the country. "Those who are with you, the rabble. They are all communists! This category of Chileans who misinform you and peddles falsehoods that damage the reputation of our beautiful country "

Sensing that the tide is turning, the other soldier, more diplomatic, decides to move to another topic and, to lighten the mood, put a tape in the drive of a local singer.
And Chilean music, you know a bit from you, we request the troufion? . Marie-Helene replied, yes, we listen well enough to Chilean songs at home '
-Oh, "replied the other, and what do you listen to in particular?
"Well, we like singers such as Victor Jara, for example.
The soldier remained impassive and without turning loose "Ah, I do not know .... "

I feel at this moment, soldiers are getting fed up and we regret that we have loaded.

Moreover, as we approach the next village-Huentelauqeun-a tiny hamlet on the edge of ocean, the driver tells us bluntly that we will have to leave here.
matter. There is nothing to see or do here, but near the beach and wild enthusiasm deserted us. We drive through the dunes to the ocean and drawn up there, in a hollow our camp until tomorrow. There are twigs and shrubs in dry sufficiency, fire in the evening will be provided and we have a little food and water. The evening will be good!

Polaris Wiring 425 Magnum

Computers Off! resume activities as soon as possible!

Cogat Test Preparation

Chile, photos, legends ... (12)

Three small steps on the road to Santiago (third)

From Calama and "Northern oasis" mentioned above to the coastal city of La Serena where we arrived yesterday, there are a thousand miles. Given the length of the country, this distance is not great but we have more than ten days to travel by hitchhiking. Not that "travel to the finger" does not work well here, but an unexpected problem has forced us to stay a week stranded in Taltal. A port where there is shabby, I think there nothing else to do than watch the pelicans idlers on the pier in the best-case or worst-in-, to get drunk with nautical Unemployment in greasy spoon along the bay. For my part, I have done neither the one nor the other, since I stayed in bed for a week in the first pension came due to a terrible dental abscess. A period necessary to bring down the fever resulting from this problem and wait until my jaw can again function normally and that the gum a little deflated (Marie-Hélène compared me to Elephant Man ") I could not open his mouth and the only food they can still swallow me were yogurt and packet soups that I absorbed in straw. God thank you, Chilean pharmacists are competent people who examined me and advised me to Taltal antibiotic radical. It must be said that here, for obvious economic reasons, most people usually resort to the pharmacist rather than a doctor. Pharmacists can also deliver virtually all drugs conceivable without any prescription. Chile is why a true kingdom of self-medication.
That said, and after some minor adventures along the way (an encounter with a suicidal young motorist who told us, just returned to his vehicle, that if his wife does not soon regained the marital home, he jeterait him and his car, the top of the cliff came first!), here we are at the Serena. From here you can venture easily by bus in the hinterland, to small villages perched on the foothills of the Cordillera. Among those villages, those of Vicuña and Pisco Elqui are interesting. Vicuña is even a small town. It is nestled in the Elqui Valley and the climate is almost Mediterranean. It cultivates a very sweet grape variety whose flavor is reminiscent of Muscat. It is also with this grape that is manufactured alcohol national: Pisco. Purists and Peruvians claim that this is wrong because according to them, Pisco is an alcohol what is most Peruvians. But here we tell you otherwise. Moreover, the peasants believed the state that if the neighboring village called Pisco Elqui, not a chance. What we will not tell you is that this village was renamed after the alcohol it does not too long ago for obvious reasons of "marketing". Anyway, visit a Pisco distillery is always worth his weight in peanuts. The explanations of business guide Capel is certainly very technical and tedious, but the part reserved for the tasting of various products leaves a pleasant memory because there are many things to test: Pisco young, half old, very old-aged in barrels oak, the special wines, not counting the "mixtures" ready to use as the wonderful Pisco-Sour (with lemon juice, sugar cane, etc ...). In short, this afternoon, we were more extreme freshness to plunge us into the life and work of one of the greatest writers of the country (Price Nobel Prize for Literature in 1945), namely the poet Gabriela Mistral was born here and which can still visit the house in the heart of the town.


(The birthplace of the poet Gabriela Mistral Vicuña)


Following the upstream course of the Elqui a distance of about 40 km is therefore village of Pisco. Significantly smaller than Vicuña, this entity has maintained a beautiful seal rustic. The agricultural activity is of course especially fruit. Besides the vineyards that still occupy the foreground, there are also crops of plums, apricots and guavas. These are usually dried in the sun on rooftops to get the "huesillos (dried apricots).
In the streets and alleys between the orchards, the scents are divine and smells of various fruits mingling produce a single heady fragrance.

Today we planted the tent near a stream in a place planted willows. The weather suddenly became uncertain. We suffer a few showers and the sky remains covered much of the day. This is the first rain since the beginning Our journey into the lands of the north. One can hardly distinguish the snowy peaks encircling the village. We found refuge in a cafe run by Don Barboza. An old buccaneer that Don Barboza. Originally from Argentina, he has a lot of land in the corner and has always tried to monetize every square meter. Moreover, to get to the point where we make camp, you must pass by a road owned. To borrow we were obliged to pay us a right of way 800 pesos! This represents about renting space in a campsite ordinary "in the region. But Don Barboza also cultivates a form of nostalgia . To enliven his old cafe, when customers sit down, he likes to spend old 78 rpm Carlos Gardel on an authentic gramophone with horn struck with the effigy of "The Voice of his master!

is beautiful than watching the rain fall on the countryside while listening to tango!


This morning it's still raining and everyone in the village is concerned about these late rains. Once again, we put it down to the "Bolivian winter" eternal "cream pie" weather, because of all the disturbances of the sky.
matter. We take our courage and our shoes walking boots for the day from the surrounding countryside.

Back in the early afternoon, a nasty surprise awaits us: we find our tent in a terrible state, but was defeated and downtrodden. The canvas is largely torn in several places .. It's a real mystery because nothing was stolen and the food was untouched. There are two horses in the vicinity of our camp, but it seems unlikely that they were those responsible for this carnage. Little encouraged by the prospect of a possible attack at night, we broke camp and decide to join the coast and continue our journey south.

(based Travel Diary December 91)