Gays Mejicanas Folladas

La Paz - Parinacota - Arica - Tacna - Arequipa - Lima

Well I'm not going to make tons and it did not come, it does not come! I have the ideas and images in mind, smells, colors and even the air we breathe too rare up here but impossible to make a beautiful phrase that stands upright. Less pleasant to read but also informative style will then stripped the case this time, unless the writing inspiration comes as Appétit man comes ... Sucks! J'vous book therefore words as they come.

But yet what a beautiful road between La Paz and Lima, is first above this deep crater in the pit and on the edge of which extends to La Paz. The impressive view of the South American megalopolis, asphixiée by pollution, paralyzed by traffic jams but despite that saw ten times more than any European city I have ever visited.

The road runs to the south first and then heading west, right on the mountain range to attack the pass that leads to Chile, at 5000 meters. The scenery altiplano are really special and I lack the words to restore its unique colors. The blue sky, brown sand interspersed with clumps of this lean and flush vegetation low and yellow, white snow eternal volcanoes ... wonderful colors, a super highway.

A border post later I'm back in Chile with a funny feeling to be back at home. I would stop near the border in a small village for a short hike, one last breath the air of the altiplano. My visit was very welcomed by the Lamas, Alpacas and their cousins vicuña among whom I walked and I enjoyed my night in the Parinacota small village, the small white houses clustered around their churches, trying to brave the cold polar entire reign on the altiplano as soon as the evening does the sun disappear in the distance below ...
Low, much lower because 40 kilometers west of here in this vast and crumbling altiplano plateau that extends far up the vast Amazon forest, fall into 100 km of the 4,000 meters altitude at sea level! After briefly lost track of my steps, I rediscovered the joys of stop clinging to this outstretched hand and hoisted myself into the cab of the semi-trailer to carry the famous 100 km with Miguel, truck driver and Chilean altiplano kid who knows the road between Arica and Santa Cruz as the lines of his old hand. The road is steep but the man knows his business, not a brake too, nothing wrong, a professional on Miguel. Loosen his tongue in my right to life story of a boy born up there, fed the little land that is willing to offer such a high altitude, bitter cold winters too long, live so far from all, the intimacy of a village microscopic years of the Pinochet dictatorship from above ...

A final yaw and the Pacific appears to us, bleached by the sun already low. I love the stop! I jumped from the truck at the location Pan American or just rub in Arica, a frontier town, the last port in northern Chile. Still 1000 km to the northwest and I am in Lima.

Peru I attack from the south on a train bringueballant who snorts on a bumpy road amid a virtual desert sand, bordered by the Pacific in the distance lost in the mist. A train that I say, a small motor car windows disjointed, uncomfortable at possible ... but what pleasure, what joy these 60 kms in the early last century! Charm, a poetry rail in two hours of travel time enhanced by the decor unreal.

Lima here I am, I almost reaches the 12th South, but almost does not matter, I would climb no higher. I sleep in the old city in a unique hotel. Charles V would come in person to claim his share of gold in the colonial gouveneur we would not be surprised. It seems that Christopher Columbus had landed last week!

Under the window is a brass band and a few streets away the Panamerican goes on, day and night. The spine of Latin America vibrates a continuous hum, lights yellow and red cross in the night, trucks anonymous and tired but not as much as the men who lead them. America Latin killed at the spot along this ribbon of asphalt that now caress the ocean, sometimes the mountain range, draining misery of men, women and children, filthy, carrying meager annual harvest of potatoes for a family of altiplano to end or 4x4 made in japan, without respite, no Sunday night hours, no holiday.

Lima, his great and beautiful Plaza de Armas, the end of the climb to the north that began in early January against the Cape Horn. It will conclude, it will replace the one I is not found ... Be well

Benoit