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The cold, wind, rain, snow ... It's summer!

El Chalten - El Calafate - Puerto Natales - Torres del Paine - Punta Arenas

The Photo: La Cumbre, park Torres

It's like a refrain I hear now from a dozen times ... enough in any case well known. It begins: First the leaves rustle and then, inevitably, the wind becomes the thud, full and powerful. It is now all the trees that bend strongly to undergo the new burst. Then wind down, my tent a bit agitated, and after a short pause, the strong current of air is over me. In a reflex although I do not hold out the bottom of my sleeping bag hoping that my little tent will cash without breaking the new breeze. The poles are bent, canvas crashes ...

I wake up a bit after the day the wind fell, my tent is still standing and the sun shone brightly but my first night in the park of Torres was short.

But I've not said where I was. After rejoind Chile Puerto Natales, I went for 8 days and 150 km walk in the big park of Torres del Paine. This place is just amazing as we came across a surprising variety of landscapes, which a priori has nothing to do together. It must be said that the place is special, on the north, Argentina and the area of Fitz Roy and glacier on the west end of the 500 km of ice aptly named Campo de Hielo Sur. Beyond the Campo, Only few kilometers are the channels of Patagonia, hall pacific finally, to the east stretches the great plain of Argentina and south, the long steppe Fugen.

In the northern part of the park stands a massive and sudden abrupt burst of the last mountain range before diving between the Atlantic and the Pacific. Going through the park, navigating between these lakes or deep turquoise blue sea that montonnent downwind. In small trail-like roads of customs there are those scents of spring at Belle-Ile, but it looks up and faces a fine waterfall with a height impressionnnante or before the crossing of a steep gorge. The path changes again and winds in a small bush when the sun returns. Farther it overlooks and along the Glacier Grey seems to be a raging sea or a torrent raw, frozen by a sudden ice age.

The meeting, a few kilometers from here the two oceans is a wind of power sometimes phenomenal, coming from the west on the lakes of lifting columns of spray, pulling the fresh snow slopes to the most exposed and the return of peaceful clouds simply unimaginable proportions ... All in this atmosphere of sheer cliffs, vertical and surprising colors. And climate side, you understand that here the word does Summer not the same thing here in the park with the minimum of 2 up to 13 degrees all complemented by rain, wind, snow, grain ...

But all this does not cooled the ardor of the crowds internationally. The Park and Southern Latin America is indeed on the road all tourdumondistes. While in camp, when we give ear is almost always hear this international English so much that I once asked if, during one of my night, Mars would not have teletransporting in Yellowstone Park. It lacks a little charm.

That also about fifteen days I find that my journey to lose its Authentic hand encounters with less local color and the feeling of following a tour in a giant amusement park. I regret my little parks, or further north, being almost the only tourist I was worth a warm Hospitality. However, I continue to meet people, they are just another type well and sometimes I fall. As with her 2 nice french who were beginning their trip here 15 months between Andean summits, New Zealand and the Himalayas. We exchange travel dreams, we imagine the new ...

But I would have my last meeting with Chile. After a short day's journey, I arrived at the camp Italiano or I found Fanny, a strasbourgoise of eternal good humor, traveling alone and who had crossed the border by Lago O'Higgins.

The night rain has started again to fall (original!) 2 Sister, and Kansas have invited me as their shelter of branches to able to cook my dinner. Then what happened Nikolas, the gardaparque who was had to do a little pity. The wind came back and we were squatting under the branches, protecting small flame stoves with our hands. It invites us to share a little tea in his hut. This is not very big, there is the room where the big wood stove. It is warm, dry and can hold 6 or 8 with shaking. On the other side of the corridor, a bathroom and close the small room with 2 guards park. They live without Line current, working 12 days and then resting 4 to Puerto Natales. It is pleasant to sit in the corner of the stove when almost everything in the tent is as humidity! In addition to the music coming out of the two small speakers cell delighted my ears. Tea and password, as he gets along well mate then becomes cider and dinner arrives, a big chicken that was cooking for two good hours in the pan. There were thus two sisters from Kansas, Fanny, our two gardaparque and myself. We share So this simple but delicious dinner, offered with such good heart and accented with red wine! (A real Christmas meal with 3 days late) If the first Gardaparque, Lucho (Luchito said) is kind of quiet, Nikolas his colleague is kind of energetic, good actor and good mood after sharing dinner, he launches into an incredible show with my zigomatiques still remember. So here he is transformed in turn into a magician, photographer missed or stunt before our very eyes. There is even a small interval when Martin knocked at the door, a poor German hiker, soaked to the bones that came to ask to boil some water and dry. During the second act, Nikolas unabated and now he is dancing Hip Hop, Ninja, diver, percussionist, completely mastering his show is very interactive. You will understand that the evening went quickly and made us forget the rain drummed on the roof. We all ended up dancing to get cramps in the belly that had strength to laugh before returning to our tents in the rain which had still not stopped, his heart warmed by this unforgettable evening.

A camp below, it is 4:30 when the Canadian Alec Ontario just waking up. We climb to see the sunrise over the impressive towers that give the park its name. Their formation of granite and their orientation can take the colors of raising a beautiful way. Unfortunately for me, the show will be limited because this morning the sky is overcast and the sun is not coming we decided to offer the show for which we walked one hour, eyes still half asleep, hands and face numb by cold. Surprisingly and for the first time since I'm in the park, the wind dropped, everything is calm. I went down to the park entrance, crossing all those who see the towers went up, cursing the luck that had deserted me for this morning crucial. But as I turned I saw this huge cloud that has made all disappear in a thick fog and did not delay us Copisa water.

I finally had much better luck than I imagined, I could now return Natales to enjoy a good shower and a comfortable bed, protected from rain and wind ...

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In the realm of the rain ... From funny

Chaiten-La Junta-Puerto Aysen Coyhaique, Villa O'Higgins, Cochrane, El Chalten (Argentina)

I was not lied to me, but now I My eyes saw the kingdom of rain that is the long and laborious southern route. But how to describe it as it is multiple? All
starting to Chaiten, after a magnificent voyage law on this huge volcano whose head is lost in the clouds, gliding slowly over a glassy sea ... The Carretera Austral

, had done much to dream and I was not disappointed! So, sure, there are these long hours of stop infructeux with my harmonica only companion, the icy rain that you slap in the face when they are accompanied by strong gusts of wind, hours of walking in the middle of this wrong track or it goes sometimes nothing for hours and hours. The wet and cool nights, waking to the sound of the drops crashing into the tent ...
is, despite all this a wonderful place that begins with this long valley that extends over 200 km, seeming to have no beginning or end, just this slow breathing when the forested slopes away or closer. Then there is the neck, or the impressive track becomes a track on which the vegetation, boosted by the endless rain would take its place. These majestic fjords, surrounded by curtains of rain and inaccessible mountains, great plains beyond Coyhaique ... It descends again along the huge lake of General Carrera and the track becomes mountainous after Cochrane. Along the carretera fast flowing waters and almost white-green of the Rio Baker. The last 200 kilometers
struck me as particularly long, probably because I was in that truck of cement, heavily loaded, was not moving quickly. We drove for hours along the lakes that seem to never end, down the mountains standing on the hump to avoid the truck s'embale. When night fell, the driver was deemed more prudent to stop there. So I pitched my tent in front of the truck for a short night. We are left with the east, around 5am. 8 hours for the 200km road and finally arrived at Villa O'Higgins, the end of the Carretera Austral in the early morning or I feel a strange relief ... The southern runway

spans more than 1000 kilometers thus links the villages and hamlets, some of which have no more than 9 houses and farms appears to have been placed randomly in the middle of nowhere. Previously there were only horse tracks and one hours sailing on the lakes along the ... and the old gentleman told me that before the carretera, he left over 20 days on horseback, with his wife to sell his cattle to the nearest market! But the villages themselves are not old, for the most part they were created in the 60's, linked to the country by airfields, ports and small horses in this track. And the arrival of men in the area of dense forest has not done without "collateral damage".
Newcomers, for many, cleared by the fires that sometimes escaped them.
is how, 30 years ago about a huge fire devastated two years in an area 300 km long and 70 km wide from a native forest. And all along the road you can see, than young forests, charred tree trunks, still standing and impressive size, after 30 years have witnessed huge fire!

And almost everyone here, this road is in any case that's built on General Pinochet. It is in this sector has many admirers which are apparently not aware of anything that happened during the dark years of dictatorship. And the subject is not easy to address because people here are more divided than I imagined on the subject. Thus, his death seems to have been more celebrated than mourned. At the announcement of his death, have been able to see, in Santiago, people take to the streets singing while the other headed for the military hospital to give him a final "tribute".

There were not many votes in Chile for regret that a dictator may have died without having known or benches of the courts, or prison, or exile, he who made assasinner, tortured, exile so many of these people.

They are against many who thank him for being the one who transformed Chile into a modern country and the economy healthy. These people do not visit the same country as me and they have not seen those Chileans who kill themselves to the task, working over 45 hours per week, under conditions that would innaceptables home to pay their can feed their families because the economics of doing good works. I am not having to acknowledge that general when you see what countries or gaps between the richest and the poorest are so important.

From my side, I left Chile by Lake O'Higgins, joining Argentina and leaving the forest to the west of the Campo de Hielo Sur and in this country s'émmiette multitudes of islands surrounded by channels of Patagonia. I go down to Argentina to return to Chile in a few days in Puerto Natales ... admit that it is entirely appropriate to spend Christmas.

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lives ...

Curacautin-Villarica-Temuco-Puerto Montt-Futrono-Chiloé.

The picture, a house so far away on the Pacific coast.

After a final ride on the side of volcanoes, which led me to heart of a forest of incredible wealth, bathed in streams, lakes and waterfalls, the landscape changes again. On a leap of 150km to the south, I found the sea in Puerto Montt. In fact, sea there is a gulf, protected from the Pacific by the Big Island of Chiloé. Gulf opens to the south while to the east, the Cordillera them with brutality and throws in a few hundred meters, the peaks still bear the whiteness of the recent winter dip in the small sea that whitens, she, as a result of a powerful blow south.

Chiloé is a long island that makes the round back on the ocean side, as if to absorb the deep depressions peaceful s'abatent violently on it year round. This coast is virtually deserted and covered with a forest millennium. Deserted, not quite, it can be accessed by Cuaco, 30km after a bad track. Going back then to the north by the beach (the path disappears, swallowed by the dunes), we discover, throughout the coast, spreading over 20 kilometers of isolated houses that form an indigenous community of some forty families who live here without running water or electricity for generations, with the only resources algae and their small herds. I had the chance to make a long way with Adonis, her sisters and friends. They are between 7 and 10 years and come home from school. This is not the first time I've a long way with kids and that's always a pleasure. Adonis is particularly curious to the point that it's hard to be able to ask questions too. But the exchange is valuable, they will have learned that you can not come from France to their homes on foot, we talk with us a language other than English and we do not really need us Tigers wary of when we go home at night! He tells me bird hunting which, when successful, allows you to vary the dishes and the long rainy winters.

the other hand, is all Another thing, the island displays its cultures and the many villages that are facing a multitude of islands scattered in the Gulf.
It's not a lot of miles to live in the Pan-American South when we fork left to do the 8 miles that separates it from Dalcahue. 15 minutes ferry enough then to reach the island Quinchao. At the end of this island, there is a charming little port but particularly stirred for its size. In the axis of the main street is the long thin wedge that amaris are no fewer than 12 boats, couple, 6 on each side.

Under the small hall, the market is in full swing, do not stop to return and out of this small restaurant or s'échape a good smell of grilled fish and pushers of carts, themselves, never make a trip to empty. At first I thought a return to fishing, but on closer look, these boats are not fishing boats. The agitation continues and it goes up and down on the boats. On hold, people start to ask the time and then load everything from flour, chipboard plates, beer, pipes, sheets, rolls of wire, potatoes, packages of diapers ... And as all boats are a couple, it spans, we hold out my arms, we throw, you catch up, it pulls on the Amar! So I end by engaging in conversation with one of the boat skipper, that he had with the head might as well be able to skipper Guilvinec!

Every Monday and Friday he explains, a boat of each of the islands which lie opposite just to Achao. It sells is being done on the island, we buy what is not, it makes the papers for mayor, we touch the pensions of former ... This is a good friendly time and it allows to keep the news. The only thing that can disturb the ritual is a big blow north, but otherwise, every Monday and Friday, Achao, a small port to a small island in the Great Island of Chiloe becomes the center of all these little bits of land scattered in the Gulf. And when the time approaches to leave, this happy stratagem takes on a lot of fun. We send the kids to look for stragglers while loading the latest accelerating. Those who were on time or ahead pati lend a hand to this poor little grandmother who has a little difficulty raising your leg high enough to board. The poor is not the end of his sentences, his boat is the third from the hold.

A first boat horn, pigweed and returned a few minutes later, a first small group of 4 boats left Achao before slowly separating it a bit further. And each returns to his small island to live quietly until the next visit to Achao ...

He saw himself decidedly strange existences on Chiloe ...

As for me I embark tomorrow for 5 hours crossing between Quellon, south of Chaiten Chiloe and at the foot of the mountain range and the thick clouds that washed me well for 2 days and 2 nights are me- Do we say that a nice preamble to expect that the Southern Highway.

soon, a little further south ...

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meetings, even meetings and two beautiful hikes.


Constitution - Chanco - Tregualemu - Quirihue - Design - Tucapel - Antuco - Los Angeles - Curacautin - Malalcahuello.

My journey thus continues to be a sort of waking dream that distills the dropper unforgettable meetings and fabulous scenery. My beautiful drive along the Pacific and bounces on the green hills with vast forests on one side and the ocean on the other, the ocean which spreads its intense blue of sight.

Meetings have not missed the point sometimes make me forget that I travel alone.

First there was Neil, American fiftieth anniversary bike, too, taking his time traveling. Chance has put in my way to 5 days and 200km apart. Both times it was the same pleasure to share the tea by candlelight, talking travel under the stars.

A little later, Fernando, the ranger took me out of the impasse on a road decidedly uncrowded. As a bonus I win a dinner with Max, a Chilean writer who cooks for us this evening a barbecue of the sea dressed in Parisian chef. The house, almost as surprising as its owner, a cliff overlooking the impressive recent blushed peaceful daybreak. Jorge

it is an agricultural engineer and the State the burden of flush in strawberry plantings, insects with bad intentions. He was also found twice on my way (or me on his own, it depends!) And the second time, I found myself in his cousin to share a delicious chicken with all the family.

Erwin and Miguel are two of them young and enterprising commercial atypical selling small furniture. They invited me to spend the evening at home after having taken a ride in their combi WV. We pride ourselves head first into the nearby river and then I meet with other youth of the village during a football match to remember!

Then there was Alvaro, the beekeeper descendant of Basque, Daniel, thrilled to practice her French learned in Paris in the 70s in the service of Baron Empin! Finally the man who went back to Santiago and I totally left his home for holiday one instruction to put the key under the woodpile.

A Design my road leaves the coast line to the east and found the Cordillera, Mendoza and Santiago left in one day in October. I found here, a little lower, more accessible and above all ... volcanic. Tomorrow I attack around the Antuco volcano and see the colors he dons tonight, it promises to be something. My trek will eventually shortened by thick layers of snow and bad weather threatens. But in a day and a half, the volcano could have offered me fabulous scenery, crossing a lava field and the small red stones, and black yellow night in a circus with steep slopes which escaped 1000 waterfalls. This awakening in the morning and the sun that lights a fire to one of the ridge. Finally the splendid vision of near-perfect cone volcano lit by the pink glow of sunrise and shy. The rain that threatened to fall but it finished by the turn of Ruth and her family to open up their doors. Rain, far from ceasing, stepping, drumming the corrugated iron roof. Once assured that a bucket was well under each flight (which is no shortage) we eat delicious sausages, grouped around the stove watching the rain fall from the window.

Southern must begin here, or rather, the vision I had is there before my eyes. It is a small quiet village which bears the pretty name Malalcahuello (Try you'll see it sounds good. Cahu-My-lal-yo). Behind the old disused railway station, a short grass prairie of this and yellowed by snow, wind, cold and the sun dance today under the caresses of a current of air. In addition, small colorful houses with roofs sharp shake against each other in the narrow valley. So by the time my second hike that will leave just to mess with another volcano, beautiful too, the Lonquimay. Unlike the above, it is him surrounded by a thick forest of Araucaria, the conifer to the local side which impressively large, our most beautiful pines would look like matchsticks. This forest, bathed in sunshine, reveals an incredible number of shades of green and open occasionally to offer a beautiful view of the volcano. Again, a rise in the morning to contemplate the light that slowly increases while a fine mist floats, slightly above the village like a veil covering the last moments of sleep men.

What happiness that whole days spent outside show up in the evening, the limit of darkness and light up slowly the mountain as we turn the page on a beautiful picture book ...

Finally a big thank you for all your comments make me happy and with me here as a firm discrete and light on my shoulder ...

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Change of scenery ...

Mendoza-Santiago-San Antonio-Lago Rapel-Pichilemu-Bucalemu-Boyerucca-Llico-Douao-Constitution.

From the window the night falls slowly Santiago. The lights come one by one and the Plaza d'Italia agitated loudly does not seem to realize that the day ends ... Under my eyes, the same restlessness, the buses that pass crazy on the boulevard to the look impressive, the sounds of car horns, these pedestrians running to avoid these four cars running around the front .... And yet, I feel good here.

Santiago, journey's end for aircraft Aeropostale there are still a few decades ... and I find myself dreaming of Mermoz, landing a few miles away, his face frozen in a rough crossing of the Andes ... the guys who unload the sacks of mail, St Exupery, stroking cabin its Latécoère before returning to Buenos Aires, Natal, Recife, St. Louis and Toulouse finally ... By looking carefully, I wonder if these readings are not the first who called me here ... Santiago!

But I digress and the waitress brings me my empanadas is responsible for me from my reverie.

For the umpteenth time since the beginning of my journey, I pull out the map of the right pocket of my trousers and spreads it on the table in search of a starting point to begin the descent towards the south. Those with whom I have spoken knows how this descent to Earth of Fire made me dream and nurtured my imagination all these years.

It was in San Antonio that I jump on the bus, grabbed my bag and put myself on the road. But what a shock! A good breeze slaps my face like an old friend I would tap on the shoulder to ask me to walk a little. The air is crisp and fresh, the sky filled with these fair-weather cumulus, and beyond the port basins and breakwaters, the clear horizon let me enjoy the curvature of the earth. The port is agitated and I love the atmosphere; cranes are working to unload tons of sand from the Giant of the Sea, the Atlantic Morning which is released here takes care of him I do not know what, but voila two tugs coming out of the harbor at high speed, a door-contenaire is approaching ...

Across the pond, gulls agitated and discuss farm prices the last fishery. Weary sailors, spoof multicolored boxes while two old smoke their pipes and chatting ... it is good that fresh air from the sea, I leave my bag with my fleece and am happy to nibble a corner contemplating my picnic this joyous agitation ...

So here begins my long road to the south and all these names that resonate in my head as much appeal to travel ... Puerto Montt Castro, Chiloe, the Gulf of Peñas, The Messier Channel, Punta Arenas, the Straits of Magellan ...

On the road out of town, four men discussing in front of a grocery store, the shop owner sits on a stool under his banner, while others are standing there, arms crossed or impossible to describe shapes with their hands. My time is stop everything and after riding double, I hear them call me. I turn around, take a few steps back and find myself among them. Immediately the faces light up and it asks me to accept the best place on the stool. I was please tell where I am and where I intend to go. One of them is particularly expressive and heart takes over, slapping his leg, a response in two. For not only my throat dries up and shortens the story, it gives me a bottle of water out of the grocery store refrigerators. When I saw their eyes at the moment to announce my final destination, I understood that I was not alone in dreaming of Tierra del Fuego. It might have ended there and stay as an encounter quite a few others but no sooner had I finished my story that the situation is reversed. And here is my four snowmen that began to tell me a trip that Eric, one French, one bike there. He also put his butt on that stool, here just a year and spent two days with them here. The best stage of his tour of South America are reported to me my greatest happiness ... Almost out of breath, they end up ... and it just arrived in Buenos Aires, the end of his journey ... I've been everywhere!

No doubt, they are fans of that Eric, the French cycling. I'm leaving by walking very glad of this good break and they seem happy, they made two nice trips to the grocery store this afternoon.

I put my bag on my shoulder after having asked a few days Pichilemu. This city is the capital of Chilean surfing for nothing. The wave is awfully good, and I must admit that despite two days of hard, I could not find the entrance. This wave is beautiful kind of powerful and very fast, a little too much for me. I surely will try again on the way home because once inside, it looks really good. So I put my bag on my shoulders in good shape after this short break. My route along the coast to Design. On Road still a lot of meetings and two days in a charming family who invited me to his house for Halloween festivities. When leaving, they offered me a wonderful gift in telling me a shortcut through the hills to join my next step. The forest trail is proving to be one of the most beautiful I've done until today. It rises gradually from the village that lies at sea level, it goes hard but if you take the time to turn around, it's worth it ... Behind me, the lagoon Boyerucca spread, between the peaceful and beautiful wooded hills and dunes which separated from the ocean. She extended by an area of saltmarsh. To my left, the Pacific Ocean sent a nice little wave that breaks at my feet. The horizon is vast and splendid colors despite an overcast sky. On the other side lies a rolling plain and green at the end of which appear in the distance, massive and snow covered Andean peaks ...

I walk between the Andes and the Pacific!

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On my way ...

Villa Giardino Cruz de Eje-La Rioja-Aimogasta Chilecito-Union-Villa-San Juan-Mendoza

These small pieces of selected days between Villa Giardino and Mendoza.

A detour to the English countryside:
I walk along a pretty road, shaded by tall trees, which is nice because, despite the hour rather morning, the sun is already fierce. The road winds through a lush and rolling countryside. Behind large gates, one sees towering houses with various charms and uncertain: Swiss Chalet?, Mas Provencal?, Family house in Deauville? Percheron longhouse? And always, freshly mown fine turf on which you could plant out his tent. It's a bit chic and shock but very nice and relaxing, and most is green, which feels great after the long runs dusty in the region of La Serena in Chile. At the turn of a village, I met a retired couple more too young to be walking with his arms crossed behind his back and nose in the air. The man makes me stop and sign. He asks me where I'm not listening but my answer, I am convinced that English anyway, and too happy to excercer his talent in the language of Shakespeare, explains in perfect English that he must always, when walking along a road, dealing with cars coming ... Thank you, but I knew this morning, I seek the shadow instead (which was to the other side) and it happens here a car every 30 minutes.
- "Goal where are you from, in England?" wonder there.
- "I am French, from Nantes"
- "In French!" Then, turning to his wife.
- "In France, Nantes ..."
And the eyes of the old woman lighting:
- "To France, Paris, Montpellier, Nice, Charles Trenet" ... and a thin voice to sing with me a beautiful accent, "Douce France, dear country of my childhood ..." and two verses after the amusement of her husband.
I have not had the courage to go into long explanations to come to the sad conclusion that today, unfortunately, my beautiful country is that much more deluded recklessness tender, time progressed, and I wanted to enjoy this beautiful road that reminded me as the English countryside ...

The road is nice but ...:
The next day there I was for three hours of unsuccessful stop at an intersection to direct sunlight (photo), where, by chance, pass the whole village, creating a little animation. Before me, the road from what I've been told is a long ribbon of asphalt burning of 250 km in the desert. It is therefore unnecessary to proceed by walk away. Here I am at least the thin shadow of the pole supporting the traffic light. Finally, a truck takes me to La Rioja. The type is nice, not too early cause but when it comes to talk about work he discovered that I work in transportation, it becomes more Locace. This road, in fact, is impressive. It's a long straight line with each side, 50 meters of fire are cleared and beyond, a low and sparse vegetation emerges from the sand.
It comes therefore to discuss the working conditions of my driver I do not always come back. He arrived alone in Buenos Aires, he went last night (and it is 18h), it has made little bits of things break, but not great, it's Saturday night and he still bounds to do so. And that's all the world like it. There is no regulation of working time, whereas here, we die a lot on the road. Truck accidents, and even since, (whose drivers work in much the same way) are very frequent. Often the driver falls asleep in a line a little too straight ("Like this one?" I said making sure that the eyelids of my drivers are always open) or exceeded a little bold ...
I let my chauffeur Patquia, glad to still be around, and wish him a lot of courage for the 3 remaining hours, without pause and provided with nightfall the program ...

Moving on tour :
Sunday, I leave the city of La Rioja with a long road that goes to the mountain. Small break in the shade of the final tree before attacking the coast. I rush in the sweltering heat of the morning after to the mountains promise me a little more fresh for tonight. As it is Sunday and Mother's Day, families are united in the gardens in the shade of a tree or a canvas for the occasions. We share here a grill, a few drinks and feel of a good meal. I welcome the passage of these joyous GameCafé.
At the second, we stopped to drink a glass of chilled Fanta! My throat could not expect better!
the fourth, it gives me a bottle of water actually come out of the freezer especially for me.
"Hey, it's french!" and comes to kiss my daughter
"bring him a sandwich and a Fanta, I think sauccisse left there is well done", and just shake hands with my son,
"look son, c 'is a french ... ". When pressed, I tell a little of my journey, and I still being discussed. Further, it gives me more water. The after noon
advance (and me too quickly unfortunately) tables are more joyful. People I greet or gives me a little something to me never let go without encouragement:
"Suerte, That you will have good, buen viaje ..."
Is Fanta that rushes to my head, but the further I go, the more it encourages me, the "Suerte" are More and more, we stop again for giving me a helping fleet, in cars that double me, kids stick their heads out the window "Suerte". It ended up having a euphoric effect and helping the imagination, I'm transformed into Raymond Poulidor, yellow in the ascent of the Tourmalet. The difference lies in the fact that here, the weather was not the same value and that when someone offers me a drink, it takes a little time. Discus are very nice, the kids can not believe my bag, there to sleep in a tent in the mountains! And eyes to open even bigger. I'm
carrement standing on the pedals, the nose to the grindstone, according to the motorcycle RTF file to the top, the pack is far anyway, the crowd m'aclamme when, after a tight hairpin, more person, large plastered walls, behind a closed gate, there are the blue pool ... My Tour de France breaks off here, but the encouragement of early morning after I can easily take until evening .
Well I added a little late but I like the book I felt.

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He leads and is not quite talking, she is professor of biology and more of a chatterbox. The road is breathtaking. The red dust is raised gradually as we advance on the track. At the bottom, much more down, a stream. The valley is almost a cayon, the different sedimentary layers form emplillements twisted, bent by the telluric forces and the wind and rain have finished the job. Awesome! In talking with the teacher, she confirmed what I had heard in other cars.
last over several decades, climate change has hit here is felt, the winter months lesjours no longer bring freshness and summer, which is normally the rainy period, became completely dry. This year, on this area, not a single drop of rain against a little over 10 days earlier. Streams dry up and the fragile equilibrium that can live in these semi-arid areas is seriously threatened. The leaves of the trees become thinner is the less nourriturres for animals that live in
ect ... The water problem arises here seriously, already some villages that did just streams must be delivered to water tank ... According to some, there are some villages that exist over here a few years ...

And just for fun ... :
The evening air is sweet is sweet and once again, here I am on the edge of the road, thumb raised. An old Chevrolet pickup stops smoking. It is led by a young guy in the head with a sympathetic friend to look good punk! I sit on the bench with them at the front. A little later, another car stopper joins us. We are now four in the front seat, a bit tight but who cares, we advance a little faster than walking and that is the main ...
50 km / h (the motor does not seem to do better and given the state of the car, it is also much like that) on a completely deserted road, we go down south. The sky is clear after this hot day, on our right, a few miles away, stands the imposing Andes Cordillera and its snowy peaks. To our left, a little closer, the pre-mountain range, lower but so beautiful, adorned the glowing sunset ... Between the two, the low vegetation gives the impression of bodies of water when you look away ... A magical landscape and colors ... In the car, not a word, each contemplating the scenery through the windows, faces are illuminated by the colors of the sunset, all with music by Elton John tragic
I the impression of being in a road movie of the 70 American
When they dropped me off, the car 615 325 km! Calle and does not restart. Are sprinkled liberally engine blow bucket of water, still trying, discussing, making predictions ... So we are pushing this huge car, which eventually smith in a blackish cloud. Through the smoke, the smiling face of the driver, always lit by the red sun greets me, a hand through the window, greet and go pitch my tent in the moor ...

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things come ... Small

A little later: Ovalle-La Serena-Vicuña and Santiago-Mendoza-Argentina-Cordoba-Villa Giardino.

finish so the march to the Pacific, the appointment was deferred. I go to Argentina in a few days after a detour to the Elqui Valley, which, according to many opinion is really worth seeing. In addition, at the bottom of the valley, my map shows a hill from where I could reach Argentina. A sudden stop and I go back to Vicuña. The car goes through La Serena, and after four days of intense work to reach peaceful without success, I see three rays of the sun plunge into the ocean from the back seat of the car. Three red and burning rays, intense and beautiful ... A wink of adventure! Thanks to stop, my first evening in the valley happens in a very warm house, clinging to the hill Mamalluca. It celebrates here birthday, 50 years a Belgian, arrived here after a lifetime of travel ...

Leaving home later that night, I feel like being in a dream! Thousands of twinkling stars, illuminating the sky or a half moon scorches before being bitten by an invisible cloud. In the valley, the air is humid and the village glows like the embers of a fire that would slowly let out. The air is sweet and in the darkness take shape in the hills which enclose the valley. Flowing in my ears a strange silence ...

The valley is pretty, but it is ultimately aligned huge explotation VIGNICOLE surrounded by steep mountains and arid. The sky at night is beautiful here, but it is sorely lacking in greenery. Apart from the bottom of the valley and its cultures, everything is really dry here.

inquiry, the Agua Negra Pass on which I intended to return to Argentina is closed. From its 4800 meters, Col taunting me when I watch it. The hook by Santiago will be long but who cares, I have this luxury of time!

Back La Serena or, as I imagined, the waterfront is ugly and Santiago, where the bus to Mendoza on the other side of the Andes. Long Ascension on the potholed roads by freezing and thawing, the wait at the border in a long line of trucks. Finally, the road back down to Argentina, we leave the mountains to the plains.

Mendoza is a very pretty city that has the air of Paris during the 60/70 (which I knew well as you know) probably due to the presence of watches Renault 12, Peugeot 504 was smoldering desire. Plaza de Arma breathe the sweetness of life among its trees and fountains. But there are those lovely places, cafes boisserie plentiful, waiters dressed in ancient pedestrian streets ... how to say ... something in the air I can not tell you describe.

Two bus trips later, here I am at Villa Giardino-rated Cordoba where I found Amelia, a friend I had left some years ago and I found here, the mother of a little blond boy all that is easily identified in the court of the creche.

So where I am at the end of my first month of travel before leaving tomorrow for the north of Argentina.

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complement

Sorry, I'm a little fast, so this time, there will be no image, there are spelling mistakes and text will not be justified (holala!!). Promised, the next time I take more my time and I send you a nice picture.

Otherwise thank you very much for the comments to me all very pleased. I see that readers are waiting for you. I'll try not to disappoint.

Meanwhile, bring yourself and pamper yourself ...

Benoit

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Achieving peaceful

2nd week: Illapel-Combarbala-Monte Patria-Ovalle-Fray Jorge.

reach the Pacific ... how to get her face in beauty? As I
lack of gas for my stove, I am a priori condemned to Meet in La Serena, or one city, I am told, I find this kind of charge. Too bad, I'll discover the ocean behind a concrete embankment which passes a way Santiago Blvd. Finally, I find the precious little has Ovalle gas refill. So I am back in my card in order to find a small coastal village much more friendly than this great city of La Serena! This will Fray Jorge, whose rating is more a natural that I wanted to visit.

On my calculations, and after a bit of luck in stop, I'll be tonight!
did not count on a good dose of luck! Night falls and my legs are tired. I find a little corner for the night and contemplates a blazing sky before going to bed. The next day was rainy, I leave, confident, and now it's on, I am there. The trail that leads to Fray Jorge is hardly frequented, but never mind tonight I sleep on the beach.
5 hours of walking later, I took a ride by a guard of the national park. I hesitate a bit because normally, the ocean is there, just behind the neck and so has to walk five hours to get there ... Because can not imagine the odds so easy to access. The Andes stands there, in a burst of pride, before plunging into the Pacific, the mountain range of the score that sometimes actually drool. I finally get in the car or I learned that Fray Jorge is not at all a village and at the end of this road, only the Park. Whatever, I would spend the night there and will go watch the Pacific tomorrow.
The next day I leave, always cheerful towards the coast, I spend a pass, then two, the sky is clear. When I finally get the last pass, I finally discovers ... a thick fog that forms in contact with moist air from the Pacific and burning mountains and arid on which I am ... Move along, nothing to see.
So goes the adventure, the one who decides when things will happen ... and it's so much fun like this!

For the Pacific will be seen later as I'm leaving to go to the Andes in Argentina.

Here everything always go as well, the last weekend, I was invited in people very hospitable. I ate the equivalent my weight in meat ... Amazing what they could make me eat. Before leaving, they even managed to serve me a grilled rest of the weekend with my tea. The day before, it's a gold digger who is occupying me. He took me in his mine! Veins enormous, as big as my arm who run the gallery. But do not imagine a small gold miner with a pick skinny al'epaule and four teeth. Mine were so big that it could not put his belt in his car and that his employees would take her shoelaces. Yesterday I met some french sympatic living in Santiago for a year and a half and that gave me a lot of pipes for my Travel ... And what a pleasure to share a beer around a campfire with the stars for ceiling ...

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Lyzanxia: anxiolytic ...

... of the benzodiazepine family, used to treat anxiety and anguish. It increases the action of gamma amino butyric acid, a neurotransmitter that inhibits brain activity. It can be addictive. This seems to be everything I need right now (with a bottle of vodka, of course) ... And although ... Here are two new video, produced for the group Lyzanxia (melodic thrash), announcing the upcoming release of their third album, the first version, software, released in Japan in October. The second, meanwhile, is publishing European and American. The European version will be published in two parts digipak together with a 16-page booklet, with, of course, some beautiful photographs complementing the coverage ... To better monitor the theater of operations: www.lyzanxia.com or www.listenable.net !

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There's not that smack get lost ... The Baphomet

The digipack PHAZE I came out ... and I'm not happy at all (the word is weak). Especially against these big idiots who think they are designers who are not fucking read correctly plan! The CD should be in the middle, not a must! Apart from that all is well ...

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A new small image, modest interpretation of the pattern of Eliphas Levi (1810-1875). It was alleged that the Baphomet was a representation of the primordial androgyne principle, which will best serve our cause in the near future ...

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PHAZE I

Officially announced on the website of the Italian label Scarlet Records www.scarletrecords.it here's the video (as expected it seems) of the next album Phaze I.. . In stores May 22, 2006!

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Blowin the spring ... and flies back! The Production Guide

After several months to bear (more or less complete hibernation, irritability, unusual, untimely grunts, and so on ...), not ripe now the sun finally decides to show the tip of his nose and do a little job! So, I commend myself too, with a small production next season by announcing (to May 22 this year) the album of Phaze I (the first version will be a digipack 3 parts), produced in Scarlet Records ... And to learn more: www.phaze-1.com