Immediately after my last post, I went to the hostel in Curitiba to get warmer clothes. By the time I returned, all of the buffet places were closed. I ended up eating 2 moderately nasty street hot dogs. Then I was directed towards one of the nightlife areas. As I walked up the hill, I came across an Italian place and thought it might be a good idea to load up on pasta as there was a small place in my stomach for more food. I somehow ordered a spaghetti-like dish for two people and killed it. I ruined myself this night and waddled back to the hostel. For the first time of this trip, I was the first in the room to be in bed.
Some cool building in Curitiba
When I get up in the morning, both of my tires are flat. They are able to hold air so I just head out and hope for the best.
I see this on my way out of town. I am not sure if this is inspired by Tron or what.
These guys were on the freeway. They basically played leapfrog and slowly crawled over each other. I have no idea what they are, but they were clearly on a mission.
This is an easy decision.
When truck are flipping over, it is clear that the road is not an easy one to ride.
I took BR-277 from Iguaçu to Curitiba. I am now taking BR-116 to São Paulo. The road is more mountainous, but I feel that it is actually less difficult because the road is dynamited. After 4 refills of air for the rear tire, I decide to replace the tube and tire. This is the last of my supplies as well. About midday, I am thinking, ´it is so cool that it is overcast all the time and does not rain.´ About an hour later, I get some drizzle. 10 minutes of drizzle later, I am thinking, ´it is so cool that it does not pour.´ About 15 seconds later, it begins to pour. I put on my pancho that was acquired in Iguaçu and continue. I am pretty much soaked, but the weather is warm and humid so I am not cold like the time in Mexico. I start to climb up a mountain and the rain stopped. I take the time to nicely fold up my pancho and put it back in my bag. As I am drying off ascending up the mountain, I ponder where is the Southbound lane.
Oh, there you are. Nice and low.
As I decend out of the mountain the pouring rain comes again. I stop at the toll booth to re-put on my pancho. As I am in this process, a bus comes though the via facil lane http://www.viafacil.com.br/. A large water puddle has accumulated and the bus relieved the puddle in a huge splash that completely covered me from my waist down. Sometimes I get frustrated during this trip, but this time I can´t help but laugh.
I ride until sundown and end up in a tiny pueblo. There is no hotel, but I end up spending enough time at the buffet that I make some friends and am offered a place to sleep. It is one of the most terrible places I have stayed, and I was sure the Blair Witch was going to come find me in there.
As I am climbing a mountain the next day, I came across this banana stand. For all of my life, I have been undecided where or not I like bananas. After eating 5 of these, I am official a fan of bananas. They are small and sweet. As Drake says, ´The best I ever had.´
I have never actually seen bananas grow on a tree, but here is what they look like. There are about 40 or 50 of them growing at once with a long phallic tentical with a red bulb at the end. I walked in there and pulled one off the tree. After having the best experience with bananas, I just had the worst by putting this foul pasty thing in my mouth. You really do have to wait until they are ripe.
Huge expanse of banana trees. Even the moutains a few miles back that you can barely make out are covered in banana trees.
I rode right up til nightfall and stopped at some town 120km from São Paulo. This town actually had a hotel. I use the term hotel very loosely here. I am the only person that is staying there and probably the only one in a month. The hotel is basically a huge floor with rooms and beds all over the place. It was built to house 30 or so people. There is no key so I had to leave my bike unsecure when I went out for dinner and in search of an internet cafe. When I went to use the shower, I was electrocuted by the knobs. Worst than the electricity running up my arms was that I got shocked for no reason because the heater was shorting out. I managed to leave my towel in Curitiba so I end up drying myself with dirty clothes and a fan that is surely going to swivel itself out of its socket and crash into the wall. As I stroll around town in search of food, water, and the internet, I figure 2 out of 3 ain´t bad. The internet cafe does not open until 1 the next afternoon, and I plan on arriving in SP around that time.
Some more scenery on my last day into São Paulo
Coming down Faira Lima which is one of the major thoroughfares in SP. The Google office is on this street. I also manage to drop my camera immediately after taking this photo, and I literally drop my bike in the middle of the street and sprint back to swipe my camera before it is crushed by the speeding cars or stolen by a theiving hand.
It turns out that I arrived in SP on the last Friday of the month. This is the day for Critical Mass in San Francisco and SP as well. I´m in!
Getting ready to ride with Jackie.
SP has amazing street art
La massa critica
The largest population of Japanese people outside of Japan reside in SP. This Japanese girl takes biking to the next level.
Lunch the next day was even more amazing. This is a traditional dish called feijoada, pronouced like fesh-watta. It´s similar to Jambalaya but better (sorry if this is blasphemous to my Louisiana brethern).
Random Samba practice. Also they do have sports of than futebol in Brasil; however, you can see that the court is being used for their primary sport.
More amazing street art
Sunday futebol match between São Paulo and Corinthians. On the car ride there, I was informed that the Goalie of São Paulo was sitting on 99 career gols. I thought I misunderstood.
Home team crowd
Some of their typical chants
I did not misunderstand. The goalie goes on to score his 100th career gol. This is monumental, and I and my camera were witness. The post gol celebration went on 15 to 20 minutes even when play had resumed.
Some very proud SP fans and my hosts for the day.
The parking lot is total gridlock. Let´s throw a party here. Ok - done.
This bar is called Wall Street. Prices of beer change throughout the night based on demand. Really awesome. SP you rock.
I am riding 20 km through SP after midnight. First, I have no good idea where to go. Second, I don´t speak the language. Third, I am going on streets and tunnels with speeding cars in lanes that have no biking signs. All in all, not very smart, but I made it.
This the world´s second largest bus terminal. There are 75 spaces for buses to park, load, and unload. 81 Reais and 6 hours until Rio.
I have decided to quit riding in South America for several reasons. 1) I ruined my gloves drying them in Curitiba. 2) I have no supplies in terms of Tubes and Tires. 3) I sheared off my air pump shaft so have no way to inflate my tires. 4) My butt is really sore. I rode 22 out of 25 days for 8 to 10 hours a day.
Thank you very much for the hospitality Jackie! São Paulo sort of has a bad reputation, and even I was nervous heading in. Besides the buses that were not gunshy to cut me off, I loved every second of SP. Actually, I do like the aggressive drivers as it motivates me to be even moreso. The food, the people, the weather. Everything was absolutely wonderful.
I am in Rio now, but I will save a post on this amazing place for later.
I left Cascavel and came across a Finnish cyclist fixing a flat on the other side of the road. He looked in dispair, but I think the presense of another cyclist brightened his day. We shared 20 minutes of war stories then went our seperate ways. He also advised me that there is a campground 30km from Iritiba.
I saw distance signs for Laranjeiras do Sul and thought this sign might be a typo. I realized that the name of this town was on the other fold of my map so I pressed on. I should have stayed here since I rode for 30 minutes in pitch darkness.
In Laranjeiras do Sul, I stopped at my first Brasilian buffet. I had a ball, but I thought the bathroom was more intesting. This is a good use of waste water.
Laranjeiras do Sul was pathetically boring. The city was fairly large, but there was nothing open. The bank ATM´s closed at 10pm and the only place to find a Caiparina was at a bakery. I have decided to try to find the best Caiparina in Brasil over the next month.
On my way out of Laranjeiras do Sul, I saw a trampolene. This would never happen in the US. Brasil 1 - US 0
Some random landscapes
I thought these plants were only in the desert. I like that they represent the colors of Brasil well.
I took this photo to show the corn kernals all over the ground. Trucks with cloth covers will pass me and corn comes flying out accumulating on the shoulder. I figure Brasil has corn subsidies coming out their ears much like the US. However, Brasilian coke is still made with sugar unlike the US´s version with corn syrup. Brasil 2 - US 0
By the time darkness hit, I realized I had 13 km to the next city, Guarapuava, which has a red dot on my map meaning that it will not completely suck. I got very lost trying to find the centro as there are no street signs to be found. I saw no street signs for the 45 minutes it took me to find the centro. I would later find them in the day light in the middle of the road on lamp posts.
I now have about 30 minutes before the ATM machines will close. I go to 3 different banks and they do not accept my card. I am really worried that I will be in trouble without access to my cash. I find an HSBC and my card works. I try to withdraw too much and my card is returned to me. I put my card back in the machine, then it will no longer work. I go to the next ATM, and it does not work. The last and 4th ATM in line accepts my card, and I reduce the requested amount to 500 Reais and walk out very happy.
I find a hotel for 15 R, and this is the scene right outside. The towns people drag up and down the street.
While eating at a burger joint, I saw groups of guys wearing pink. Some had pink pants and some had pink hoodies. In these groups, about 75% were in pink. Many of them also had fur in their hoodies. These guys would come in and open the unmarked refrigirator to buy some bottle. I wasn´t sure what they were drinking so I checked it out to discover it was just a wine cooler. Now I am not sure if there is some pink wine cooler drinking gang in Brasil, but I will try to find out more.
Why is there fur on their hoodies? It is brutally cold. I had always thought Brasil was hot, but it is not. Not only is it cold, but it is windy. I have had headwinds the entire way in Brasil, and they blow even harder in Guarapuava.
I can´t accept that the only thing to do is hang out of your car and gawk at the people loitering, so I find a resto-bar. At this establishment, word spreads quickly that there is an American that doesn´t speak Portugues. I get interviewed by almost everyone there, offered to try native Brasilian cocktails, and given a discount in the end. I also find myself invited to a karaoke bar. Are you kidding me? Brasilian karaoke. Sign me up! Highlights of the karaoke include this lesbian who kept stealing my chair then a creepy old guy pilfering beer off my liter.
As the night was long, I was late to get on the road. I knew I had been at a higher elevation then when I left Iguazu and was waiting for my payoff.
I had about a 10 minute payoff. I was passing cars and semis and peddling in my highest gear didn´t provide any resistance. I now know coming the other way is why Lukas was hating Brasil.
I ended up finding the campsite mentioned by the Fin. My first night camping in Brasil.
This is the town of Irati that I never got to explore. It looked pretty cool and also had a red dot.
I planned to ride to Curitiba (pronounced Koo-Ree-Chi-Ba) on the day which is the capital of the state of Parana. I fell about 70km short and ended up in a pueblo called Palmiera. I find a hospedaje and an internet cafe. As I am leaving the cafe, one guy trys to talk to me in his broken English. We talk about the fun things to do in town, then he offers me a tour of the city. We get in his car, then drive in up and down the same 3 streets for a while. The only thing cool we pass is an above ground graveyard between the churches he is trying to show me as he broached the topic of religion with me. This makes my interest wain quickly so I tell him I am hungry. He calls his mom. I am dreading a team of them trying to convert me, but fortunately, she does not answer. We end up at a burger stand, and I eat my standard, twice what a normal person eats. I get back to my place only to realize that my clothes are starting to decompose. My room wreaked of the worse smells I have ever produced. All of my clothes were dirty, and I must have left some wet ones sit around. Airing them out in the room was a bad idea.
In the morning, I give the whafting sniff test to my clothes and put on my clothese inside out. At least the ride is short so I don´t have to smell myself too long. On the way to Curitiba, I get stopped by a car. I thought at first the driver needed help with directions. I quickly realize that he is inviting me to his church to rest and get a meal. I take his literature and carry on. I have been in Brasil for 6 days and have now been approached about religion 4 times. The Korean ladies in Iguazu, the Arab in Cascavel, the Baptist Brasilian in Palmeira, and this `New Age`Brasilian in Campo Largo. I guess I have a beakon on me that I am alone and need to be saved.
The skyline of Curitiba.
Really cool bus fare system. You pay to go past turnstyles, then you wait in these tubes. You board the bus from inside the tube a few feet off the ground in one of 4 entrances.
The standard 4 Axel - 14 wheel bus. This one is leaving so you can´t see how high the entrances into the bus are.
Respect to the guys that made this trip possible
A church in the pedestrian square
While I took this photo, there was a big group of people to my left chanting, singing, and bowing a lot who were following a guy with a cross and some candles.
I did the last post in a rush and did not upload the videos of the falls. I don´t know how to do justice to the size and power of them, but videos capture them better than stills.
I had my second flat of the trip. Immediatly after posting last night, I found my front tire completely flat. I guess that explains the weird noises from my front time. I found a hostel with a pool, then set out for my first real Brasilian dining experience. The service and variety of food was fantastic. However, the price was much higher. The number on the bill was about the same as in Argentina, but the exchange rate just went from 4 Arg Pesos per Dollar to 1.6 Reais per Dollar. I will have to watch myself more carefully going forward.
During today´s ride, I realized that the Reais to Dollar conversion is the same as KM to Miles. I am already an expert at that conversion so mastering this one should be cake.
I got an early start and was on the road by 7am. I was told by some that the terrain is very flat. It has been nothing but rolling hills. There was even one very long climb, and I think that I am still waiting to get my downhill payoff. I am hoping my pace for the rest of the ride is faster, but I am not holding my breath.
Ethanol is cheaper than Gasoline but more than Diesel.
Brasilians are very proud of their country. Or at least this gas station is.
Evidence that the ride is not flat. Vasts rolling hills of farmland looking to the South.
I thought I would be okay with my Spanish here, but I have no idea what this sign says. I translate is to mean ´Crying Nebulas Never Ultrapass´
In Cascavel, I found a cheapish hotel for 45 Reais. I went to the grocery store and was very happy to find peanut butter, Nutella, and spicy potato chips. I was in heaven or likely Brasil. On my way back from the supermercado, I found a Shwarma place. I stopped in and promptly ate two beef Shwarmas. The owner of the place must have taken a liking to me because he laid down an earful. He is an Arab and wanted to talk about Michael Jackson. He asked me how MJ died. My misuse of drugs answer was wrong. Apparently MJ had changed his name to Muhammad Jackson and was murded for converting to Islam. He then went into reasons that the Grand Engineer called Allah sees everything. 1) Why does the hair on your head grow long while the rest of your body´s hair is stops short? Allah´s design. 2) Why do trees not catch fire after being in the strong sun all day? Allah´s design. And why are leaves green? Allah´s design. He then picked up a order slip made of paper and set it on fire. To contrast it, he picked up a green leaf from outside and tried to light it on fire but from a greater distance, and shockingly it did not catch fire. Just to make sure paper will still catch fire, he lit a second order slip. He harped on the fact that men and women are completely equal. I must not understand the Arab definition of equality.
I am not likely to pull an MJ, but I told him I need to think about what I just learned and ran back to my hotel.
After posting my last blog, I went directly to dinner. After consecutive long rides, a small mountain of meat, and some cheap Argentine beer, I was ready to pass out. However, I still wanted to see what this small town was about. I went to the hotel to change clothes only to wake up at 6am in the morning when my AC quit working. Some Devil Lady was banging on the door at 10:15 because check out was at 10am. I had no idea it was so early, but the raps got me back on the road sooner.
As I was leaving town, I stopped at this place with a rotissere chicken spit. I went in to order a chicken but they were not for sale. Frustrated, I ended up getting some cold chicken thing they had next to the raw chicken. As I was standing in front of their establishment spilling chicken and bread on the ground, a girl comes up and gives me a free Sprite. Then the boy who took my order early came to give me 5, 2 Peso bills. I took the drink but refused the money.
The ride was hilly, and I was pretty tired, which combined to slow me down. I made it to San Ignacio and found a hostel. This hostel had a pool, but it was green. Since I felt like the pool was already dirty, I had no qualms about jumping right in. San Ignacio has some semi-famous ruins, but I have never heard of them, nor was I interested in paying 50 pesos to go see them. I have waterfalls to go see!
Leaving San Ignacio
The next day, my stomach is turning during my ride. I feared I was about to get another case of food poisoning. I was struggling to have much power in my legs, but I just kept eating and drinking. As the sun was setting, I realized that I was in the middle of nowhere, actually between Puerto Rico and Montecarlo.
This guy gave me 2 free oranges because I looked pitifully tired. When he was giving me the oranges, he went into his private stash. I was reminded of the scene in Pulp Fiction where Travolta gets upgraded to the Madman. He also pointed me to a campground that also had a dirty pool.
After waking up from the campground, I had 140km to Iguazu, and I was determined to make it. My stomach was still a mess, but I had not thrown up.
I stop at a YPF gas station to fix my stomach, and I see this thing. It was like being in Taiwan again. Using them is like playing skee ball but without the prize at the end.
I made my commitment and was nearing Iguazu. All of the following photos are in chronological order.
Map of the Argentine Side Park
Inside the park. 100 peso entrance fee.
I don´t know what you call this animal. Leemur?
Double Rainbow - are you for real?
The ironic thing is, that I actually had to take a bus then a tram to get to the falls.
The mist was blowing my hair like mad. I was soaked for much of the remained of the day after standing here for about 15 seconds to take this photo.
My new buddy
There were a ton of these guys eating something from the tree then throwing the remains on the gawking people below.
Devil´s Mouth
I had to switch rooms at the hostel, but I knew I would be in Brasil soon and could leave Argentina in the dust. Thanks for everything, but I am ready to move on.
My much anticipated Visa!!!
Crossing the border was funny. The lady took 15 minutes and consulted with other people because I look so much different than in my Passport photo. I guess 6 years, long hair, and a psuedo asian beard will do that to a person.
Goodbye Argentina, Hello Brasil
I really rode me bike here, which was a mistake. It was about 30 km extra of riding on a day I was planning on resting.
Views from the Brasil side are different but equally (maybe less) awesome.
I am getting pretty soaked here. It´s really hard not to smile when the mist is all over the place.
View from the top lookout on the Brasil side.
I will hit the road tomorrow and am shooting for Rio by March 27th.
