Death Road Adventures

Before I start this blog I'd like to apologize to each and every one of you (Todd) for the lack of blogging in the last few days. Internet in Bolivia has proven difficult. 

Now let me tell you about Sunday, for it was quite a day. 

Sunday morning we spontaneously awoke at 6 and decided it was about time to mountain bike down the Death Road. And so we set off for breakfast before loading up into a bus full of adventure seekers from around the world and two awesome guides. 

A little over an hour later, when the guide called my name first to get my gear and bike, I realized what I'd signed up for. As I test rode my bike around the parking area and remembered that I hadn't ridden a bike on anything but flat desert road in over two years, and mentally smacked myself. 

Once we were all set up with equipment, we set off in a single file line down a slightly wet road nearly entirely covered in fog and true to form Jeannie seemed cool while I reevaluated my life choices and tried not to scream. 

The first 22 km were paved and without many obstacles. We took several breaks to check in and rest and after about an hour, I was beginning to feel like perhaps I wouldn't hit my front breaks, flip over my bike and break my jaw on six places. I was nearly certain it would only be four places. 

Of course this was when we made it to the actual Death Road, entirely gravel and not entirely friendly looking. As the guide asked if we were ready to get going, Jeannie mounted her bike and declared she was. The guide then looked at me and I made a series of noises and mumbled to myself while getting on my bike. He looked worried for a moment but Jeannie explained,

"She's fine, just dramatic,"

We took the road in sections, stopping every twenty minutes to regroup. We encountered waterfalls and the constant reminder of a very steep edge that would likely bring...well, death...if we got too close. 

When we finally made it to the end, beer was waiting for us. We all enjoyed and shared our experiences and thoughts before being ferried to an animal reserve where we had lunch (not the animals) and hot showers before getting back on the bus and riding the three hours back to La Paz, tired but happy. 

Yo <3 BA

Sometime yesterday afternoon Buenos Aires started to feel a bit too much like a post (zombie) apocalyptic wasteland. The ceaseless rain and wind was definitely a contributor, but the nearly empty streets were the most confusing. Add to that a weird group of people drumming, dancing and yelling with no explanation and you'll arrive at our confusion conclusion. 

I can tell you one thing for sure: today we tried to see the San Telmo market but didn't get to do so thoroughly because of the storm, we were cold and wet and even a little hangry and still We think this city is the greatest. 

Even as I sit watching the Atlantic swirl in angry storm waves from the airport, I'm listing the glorious things BA has to offer in my head:

The cutest accent ever

General friendliness toward strangers but within personal boundaries

Delicious tasty meats and fantastic wines (chorizo from a food truck anyone?)

Leather goods and adorable clothing in boutiques that look like sunshine and happiness

A million cute cafes with high quality coffee

Books. Everywhere. Cheap books, big books, red book, blue books, old books, new books. 

The fact that I can count the number of times I've been whistled at on one hand. 

Tango

Open wifi network almost anywhere (even on some public transit)

The fact that I've yet to be arrested by Interpol

In short, Buenos Aires is the bomb (dot com). We're headed to Iguazu Falls in northern Argentina this afternoon and spending a few days exploring there before returning to BA. I've heard the waterfall is "unbelievable" and "unreal"...I don't know, sounds like a rouse to me, we'll see. 

"Who Cares?" with Taylor

Though this is my first formal piece for the newest, shall we call it, quaint travel blog hitting the web, the questionable adventures of jean and jenn, many of you may know me as the "hot one" in nearly every photo on the blog. Recently I had the opportunity to sit down with the blog's creators and try to figure out why the hell they think anyone cares about their travels, their thoughts or their very existence. 

Taylor: tell me the inspiration behind this blog

Jeannie: so it all started when we left our fancy hotel and went to sleep in the airport. We'd awoken that morning to the jarring realization that we're poor so instead of shelling out for a real bed like fools, we decided the benches at a cafe in the airport would suffice. 

Jenn: as it turns out the waitress at said cafe disagreed. She violently shook us on multiple cc assigns noting our sleepy state and lack of shoes but never kicking us out. She repeatedly reminded us that "this is a restaurant" as though we'd forgotten. Finally we did what all the greats do we slept on the floor of an airport post office. 

Taylor: ok, while this a gripping tale, it has nothing to so with my question. How, or really we're all wondering why, did this blog come to life?

Jeannie: oh right, so we woke up a few hours before our flight and made our way through security. I went through with no problems but things were a little more complicated for Jenn. 

Jenn: on a scale of one to awesome, it was not. While most people went to the desk, showed their documents and moved along I was stopped and told "you're a problem for Interpol" not "this is a problem for Interpol" but me personally. 

Taylor: look I know you really want to tell your airport story but I'm interviewing you about the blog's birth, can we stay in track ladies? Specifically Jeannie can you please help me get Jenn on track. 

Jeannie: speaking of getting Jenn on track I was waiting on the other side of immigration as I watched two large men escort Jenn from Interpol to a back office. She made a face at me that said "fuuuuuuuuuuuuuu...."

Taylor: Jenn can we get Jeannie on track?

Jenn: speaking of tracks, immigration officials were really going off the rails trying to simultaneously deport and hold me. And I don't mean cuddling. I was told that I could pay to go through, just a cool $800. So I finally broke down and sent Jeannie running toward the ATM to pull out money. 

Jeannie: between two ATMs I got $400, 400 soles and winded. Unfortunately none of this was enough. 

Jenn: I handed the money to the woman and she looked at me and simply said "falta"

Taylor: we're seriously falta on you answering the right question. Come on I'm begging y ---

Jenn: speaking of begging while Jeannie was running the ATM gauntlet, I was given the stellar advice to beg for the money from my "countrymen"

Taylor: wait, she told you beg? What the f---

Jeannie: Taylor please, can we get back to what's really important? I completed a marathon on my forth lap back to the terminal to try and change our flight

Jenn: meanwhile I'm being told that Jeannie can only leave the airport in a plane so I try to buy her a ticket from Lima to Lima but no dice. 

Jeannie: we eventually work things out with two different sets of documents saying that we are, in fact, allowed to leave the airport.

Taylor: where are the documents that allow me to leave this conversation?

Jeannie: Taylor...ok? ...just, c'mon. 

Jenn: fast forward a number of hours and we find ourselves back in the airport somewhere between security and immigration...again. A nice guy had helped us get plane tickets several hours early despite being on standby, and my passport had a freshly stamped visa. Apparently, though, it needed a different stamp.

Taylor: what's with Peru and stamps?

Jeannie: so this one we stick together but lose more and more hope with every passing second until we are sitting in a back hallway in immigration wallowing in a pit of self despair.

Jenn: while we are trying to figure out how to say "skrew it" and leave the airport, Jeannie made a face at an old man that even broke my heart.

Taylor: but you don't have a heart.

Jenn: exactly.

Jeannie: in a last ditch effort, we follow this old man to a desk where he passes is of to another old man and this younger dude who was super cool.

Jenn: then, suddenly, like a lady stallion of justice, comes our savior. She forcefully tells the other two, "these are volunteers, we have I let them pass no matter what. Just do it"

Jeannie: after a few breathtaking moments where the exit stamp almost touches the passport, Jenn finally is free. We go to our savior, and she says, "go girls,run!"

Taylor: omg did you guys, like, hug and kiss and cry???

Jeannie: you know, Taylor, you can really be a bitch sometimes. 

Jenn: kind of like Peruvian immigrations

Taylor: well, there you have it: the senseless ramblings of two people who probably belong in an insane asylum.

Jenn: but this really happened--

Taylor: sorry, Jenn. Go put your shoes on, you can't sleep here, this is a restaurant. Folks, if we have learned anything from this, it is that you probably shouldn't run through airport security and that making sad faces at old men can sometimes help.

Jenn has thoughts about having feelings

First I think our story requires a little background. This blog is starting to feel like when you strike up a conversation with someone at a bar, have a few laughs and a good conversation and then realize an hour in that you don't know their name. 

Or whatever social people do. 

So since September 2012, Jeannie and I have worked as health volunteers in Peru for the US Peace Corps. She served a small town in the mountains while I worked in a larger community in the northern desert. It was super rewarding blah blah blah. 

Now we've decided we're over it and recently closed our service and started our glorious South American adventures. 

Now onto Jenn's thoughts about having feelings:

I wish I had feelings about the end of this magical era in my life but I feel absolutely nothing. I think it's probably because none of it seems real at this point. It feels like a vacation. 

But I'm not going back to my site or my host family or my students. And yet no matter how many times I tell myself that I don't believe it. I guess the feelings will come later, I'll keep you posted. 

Until then we're chillin in a fancy ass hotel with a view. 

Jeannie Has Emotions

As we sit here, on the verge of COS, I find myself with a lot of emotions.  Let me tell you about them.

1) Frustrated that Jenn has done NOTHING to plan this trip.

I'm going to be honest, that's really the only emotion I have right now.  I'll tell you some more in the coming days.

At this point, we've (I'VE) planned everything for our upcoming adventure.  Except the minor detail of a visa to get into Argentina.  Oops.  About a month ago, we ran into this random guy in Lima (let's call him Adam) who told us a horror story about not having a visa and getting thrown in Argentinean prison.  Adam was also not... shall we say... completely "with it".  But we've taken Adam's advice to heart and gotten all our ducks in a row (you know, mostly).

Quote of the hour: "You literally do everything for me.  I'm like a hospice patient." --Jenn Hanson