I didn't expect any problems on the border. I personally didn't have them before, but I met people who did and went through cross questioning. This time it was going smooth, the World Cup was already on and Brazil was trying to impress the entire world. Immigration officers were like robots, stamp and next, stamp and next.

The day was hot and humid, the air was filled with this suffocating but in the same time exciting smell of the tropics. I was told there was no bus from the border to the city centre, and I didn't want to pay for a taxi, so I stuck my thumb up on the speed ramps just at the exit from the border terminal. In a minute I had a lift with two women from Paraguay on their way back home. Foz do Iguaçu was a triple border so there were plenty of cars with plates from all the three countries. It looked like Paraguay wouldn't be that hard place to hitch in the future, but now I had to cross a large part of Brazil to get to Rio. And I remembered very well how hard it was, how much time I had to spend on posto BR in order to find a lift. Now I had to find one such posto, Hitchwiki had no info about Foz.

As soon as I got to one petrol station an intense storm broke out and stopped me for a few hours. It wasn't a good spot at all, it was not the end of the city yet and mostly locals were refilling their tanks. The staff was cool and explained me how to get to a good posto on the motorway. Once I got there it was almost dark. A whole day wasted just to get to a right place. There were plenty of trucks parked around and with a bit of luck it was possible to find an overnight lift straight to São Paulo. From there I would have only four hundred kilometres to Rio. I had a great chat with many truckers, but most were either going to Paraguay or heading towards Curitiba but only in the afternoon of the next day. Got stuck at posto BR again?

I crushed for the night on the car carrier trailer of one truck, obviously with the permission of its driver. By now I resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn't make it to Rio for my birthday and the match of Chile against Spain. Well, there would be other matches and other birthdays. I only hoped that Francisco would still be there when I arrived.

I woke up early and after a row of strong coffees that most stations offered for free I located myself at the exit from the posto. Nearby there was a large U-turn which on Brazilian motorways worked as a junction, so people weren't driving that fast. Maybe I'd find a ride straight from the road? Hours were passing and only around midday I was finally picked up. Joys of hitching in Brazil. It was a convoy of two lorries going all the way to São Paulo. The guys were talking on the radio most of the time and I was listening to this smooth music that Brazilian Portuguese was and reminding myself many words that I already forgot. We were driving the whole day, stopped for the night and continued the next day until late afternoon. I was dropped off close to the city centre. Now I had to get out of this eighteen million inhabitants madness.

I hitched through São Paulo once and I didn't have a good recollection of it. This time I searched the maps and other websites in advance to be ready and skip it fast. I went straight to Tietê Terminal and got on the bus to Jacareí which was already behind the metropolitan area of São Paulo. Just before the exit to that city there was a petrol station with large restaurant that looked very good on the Street View. Only a mile behind it there was also a toll station and I really wanted to try them out. I couldn't find any info about hitching on tolls in Brazil. In case it wasn't allowed to hitch there I could always go back to the station.

In the morning I went to the tolls with a sign where I wrote Rio de Janeiro and put a big smiley face. After a minute one of the workers started to approach me. Will they kick me out? No, I just had to move further out. Fair play. It wasn't maybe as good as tolls in Poland or France, there was no parking or toilets, stopping was officially not allowed and the marginal lanes were for the electronic toll collection, so higher speed on them. But it still did the job. In just five minutes! I had a lift straight to Rio with a private car. What a change!

I arrived in Rio a few hours later welcomed by a pissing rain. I got off quite far from the centre, but just round the corner there was a station of suburban train so getting there was easy. After another bus ride I ended up almost at the top of Santa Teresa, a quiet neighbourhood near Lapa, the central part of the city.

It took me a while to find the house of Daniel, Monika's boyfriend. The place was full of instruments, the drum set was occupying large part of the living room, guitars were left in the corners. Daniel, whose big eyes had this friendly spark, was an English teacher as well as a musician and singer. His roommates were also into music, some tunes were constantly on. That night I sent a message to Francisco, but didn't receive any answer. Pancho where are you?

The next day the sun came out and we went for a walk with Daniel. He helped me to buy and register a new sim card, my old one after one and a half year without a top up was disconnected. Gee, a year and a half passed since my last time in Brazil. And I spent most of that time in Chile. I would never imagine that. Being a long time traveller means that one day you will run out of your savings, no matter how much you save in advance. I always wanted to live in Chile, but one of the reasons I stayed there for so long was money. And I actually didn't save that much, it was not like Ireland, the salaries were low. So my budget was tight. I started to realise that in order to continue this trip I had to take any opportunity to make a few bucks. And it looked like such opportunity existed in Rio.

Celebrations on the streets of Rio

On my second day I went to Copacabana to see the Fan Fest and feel the World Cup vibe. While the beaches of Rio were always full of people from all over the world, this time it was really packed and all the people were proudly displaying where they were from. The colours dominating in Copacabana were actually blue and white, the place was filled with Argentines, they were even camping on the beach, something that normally wouldn't be allowed. Now police didn't care and in the same time their presence made the place very safe. Many Argentines were selling either food or beers on the beach and after a little chat with one Porteño* I realised I could do the same. And I saw a styrofoam box in the house of Daniel. Fuck it, let's try!

Before hitting the beach stuffed with beers I wanted to celebrate my missed birthday. I was hoping to do it with Francisco but he was already in São Paulo. What a pity we couldn't meet. But, I'd found out that Greg who was working with me in La Valija was also in Rio and we soon met up in the place where he was crushing. There were other English lads and a group of people from Cape Verde. What a mix. After a few we went out to Lapa and soon after lost each other in that endless crowd. I didn't manage to find him, but I still had an interesting night.

'Good luck!' told me Daniel patting my back.
'Thanks man, I will need it' I replied grabbing the portable fridge full of beers and then headed to a bus stop. I had to take a bus and then metro to get to Copacabana and I was afraid all the beers would get warm by then, but the ice was still on top of the blue cans when I got to the beach. I remembered my first time as a beach vendor many years ago in Poland. It was actually my first job ever. The first word didn't want to pass through my throat for a few good minutes. And now I was about to do it in Copacabana, in Rio de Janeiro, in Portuguese. One big breath... cerveja!** The first sale was in ten minutes. A group of Brazilians couldn't believe that one Pole was selling them beers. From that moment on all my shyness and anxiety was gone. I was walking around with a big smile excited as hell. What an experience!

More people were coming over as another match was just about to start. I couldn't sell inside the Fan Fest, but the screens were really huge and well seen outside of it and many people preferred to watch it without entering the Fest. Every time I sold a beer I felt free to enjoy one as it was covered, so I could be on the beach all day long, watch the World Cup matches and have some beers without spending my savings. It costed me only a bit of the effort. At the end of the day I even had a few reais left in my pocket. Cool.

Daniel was very curious how it went when I came back. We had a great connection from the very beginning and Monika was so happy about it when we talked on skype. One evening Daniel was playing a gig in one bar in Santa Teresa and I was invited. That night he played many covers, mostly Brazilian tunes, including Novos Baianos which I liked a lot. The bar was small so no crowds but people seemed to enjoy it. I did.

On Saturday Brazil was playing the round of sixteen match against Chile and some kind of tension could be felt. Chile did very well so far and most Brazilians weren't happy with their team. They were afraid of losing it. I obviously supported Chile and was very curious what it would be like if Brazil really lost it. How would the streets and the beach look like. After exciting match Brazil won and every corner turned into a party. I thought I would do well with my business, but it was quite the opposite, I was struggling that afternoon. The last few beers I just left for myself, no point to push it too hard. Rio, soccer and samba... and I was inside of it.

I stayed in Rio a few more days and some were better some worse for my business. I saved almost nothing, but I didn't have to touch my savings which was good enough. During these couple of days I also did some more sightseeing and visited places I didn't have a chance to see before, for example The Sugarloaf Mountain. We also went out once or twice with Daniel to Lapa to grab a few drinks. After Monika I was the second Polish he met and that probably made our conversations deeper. He missed her a lot and was a bit worried about how would it all turn out. Monika bought a house in Ecuador and wanted to run a hostel and live there together with Daniel. He liked the idea, but in the same time he loved his life and career in Rio. When he'd found out that she booked a flight to Rio he was all radiating with happiness.

'Hey, you wanna impress this chick when she arrives? Learn this tune!' I showed him a song called Whisky Moja Żono by a Polish band Dżem. He started to work hard with it and I was surprised by his ability of pronouncing Polish. The fact that he was Brazilian was probably helping him, both languages had similar sounds. Maybe that's why Portuguese was so easy for me?

After a goodbye hug I went to the bus stop in front of Daniel's house.
'Are you heading downtown?' I was asked by a guy putting some stuff to a car.
'Yeah I'm going to Central.'
'I can get you to Lapa if you want.'
'Yeah sure, why not.' Sweet, I had a lift in the city centre of Rio de Janeiro. Some strange change again. After a long bus ride I left all the skyscrapers and favelas of the city far behind and got to the tolls on BR-116. This pedágio*** looked very well, there was a bus stop with a lay-by just behind it as well as shops and restaurants.

'Hey, do you think you will still be in Brazil in September?' I saw a message on the screen of my phone after finding a wifi. 'Today I will book a flight and I want to go there for three weeks, I'll go alone and I would like to meet you in Brazil.'
'Wow, wow, Aileen is going to travel! But I think I won't be here. Two months, a lot of time. Maybe in September I'll be in Ecuador or Colombia.'
'Other option is Tumbes, it's in Peru and only thirty kilometres from Ecuador. I would go in the second week of September. But I want to know where you will be before buying the tickets so we can meet. I'll have three weeks of holidays. I have to buy tickets until tomorrow.'
'Okay, Peru is much more likely than Brazil. And why until tomorrow? Any offer?'
'Yeah...'
I was chatting with Aileen quite often, but this message completely surprised me. She told me she got motivated and started to save money, it seemed they weren't just empty words. She was thinking about flying alone to a country she'd never been to before. I was really happy to see that.

After the night at one station I walked back to the tolls. Again a sign with a smiley face and tah dahm... a lift straight to São Paulo. In less than a minute! Have I found a Holy Grail of hitchhiking in Brazil? This time I was picked up by a truck driver from Nordeste, a region I haven't been to so far. Maybe on my third visit to Brazil. Now I was heading back south. I wanted to see Florianópolis about which I heard so much. The driver after listening to my travel stories invited me for lunch and on our way back to the lorry put twenty reais into my hand saying: 'grab some nice dinner tonight, you look skinny.'

In São Paulo I watched another match in a porter's lodge of one company. I was just passing and guys invited me over and offered a coffee. 2-1, Brazil won against Colombia. After the game I went to Decathlon shop to buy the camping gas and then to Tietê Terminal which was just round the corner. This time I made a mistake, I forgot to check when was the last bus to Embu das Artes leaving. I arrived too late. After a bit of asking around I found a bus that supposedly could get me close enough. When the driver dropped me at some junction I realised I had like ten kilometres to Embu. And it was almost midnight. The area didn't look too bad but I didn't feel comfortable walking there by night, so when I found the first petrol station I stayed there till the morning. I woke up early and with two more bus rides I arrived at another toll station really far away from São Paulo. A piece of cardboard, a marker, a smiley face and the first truck pulled over. Holy shit!

I was dropped at one posto on Curitiba's bypass. It was dark already so I sit near a socket and started to browse the web totally chilled out.
'Where you headin' to?' a mid age man asked me suddenly when I was reading the Polish Newsweek.
'To Floripa.'
'I can give you a lift later, now I'm really tired, I need a nap. I'll be in my car, that white one over there. I'll let you know when I'm ready.'

It didn't feel like Brazil. No, it actually felt like perfect Brazil. I loved this country, the people, their vibe, the only thing I didn't like was that terribly slow hitchhiking. But now I was being offered lifts even when I wasn't asking for them. It was one of my favourite countries and I would love to stay here longer, live here for a while, polish my Portuguese. Not now, not now... I knew I had to go, still so many countries ahead of me, I couldn't stay in every place I liked, I would never finish this trip. And Brazil? It should still be here.

A few hours later we started to drive down south. The guy lived in the north of the country and was on his business trip. In Brazil it meant a few days drive. When we were close to my destination I was really tired, my head was falling down, but I forced myself to not sleep because it looked like my driver was falling asleep. Every time he got quiet I started to talk something, anything to keep him awake. I got off his car around 3 a.m. in the suburbs of Florianópolis.

Back to Pelotas! With Martha, Gabi, Átila and Bruna

In the morning I checked my email. No news from CS, so I decided to find one nice beach and camp for a night there. Florianópolis, also called Floripa, was located on an island and it had beautiful beaches all around. It was a popular tourist destination, but this time of the year the beach in Barra da Lagoa was really empty. This part of Brazil had already temperate climate and the winter was just beginning. It wasn't really cold the day I arrived but the next morning a strong wind started to blow from the Atlantic and I had to dig for the jacket in my backpack. It wasn't time for Floripa's beaches, so I headed on.

First there was this short and quick lift with one girl to the city centre. She told me that she'd never hitched in her life, but was always picking up and according to her Floripa was the capital of hitchhiking in Brazil. After a short bus ride I had the next lift very quickly again from one posto to the tolls thirty kilometres south. I was going to Capão da Canoa where I wanted to visit Natalia, Roger and Marcelo, the guys who gave me a lift in the north of Chile. Capão was not on the main road so I wrote Osório instead. It wasn't a big city, maybe it would be better if I wrote Porto Alegre, but I didn't have any cardboard left. After an hour I went to a restaurant nearby and very quickly found another lift with a trucker.  After around two more hours I ended up at a tiny station in a tiny town.

'The flight booked! For the first day of September :)' Aileen informed me that night.
'So you'll arrive in Peru on 1 September? I have to set up the alarm for that day to not arrive too late.'
'Hehehe yeah I'll be in Máncora on the first, you can't come too late.'
'Well you never know when you hitch. I will put my alarm for a week before and if I'm still far I'll start hitching planes;)'
'Hehehe you silly!'
'You wanna hitch, move around or stay on the beach all the three weeks?'
'My plan is to come to Peru, meet you, hitch together to Ecuador and then go back to Chile.'
'And what if I arrive late? Do you have a plan B?'
'Sit down and cry hehe.'
'Okay, so I have to find a map that shows runways.' It looked like I had a deadline.

In the morning I couldn't find a lift for a while so I scribbled 'Next station' and began to hitch at the entrance to the motorway. It worked very well, I had a few short lifts jumping from one posto to another. When I sit down for a second at one station I saw a bus turned into a camper van. It had Argentinian plates and was painted with Brazilian and Argentinian flags, faces of Neymar and Messi and a phrase 'A hug of the goal.' I exchanged just a few words with the driver and I was in. They were five friends from Rosario and they prepared the bus just for the World Cup. Now they were heading to Porto Alegre for another match. Cool guys. They dropped me off at the exit for Capão and after another quick ride I ended up in front of the shop run by Roger and Natalia.

That day they closed earlier, most businesses were doing so when Brazil was playing. Surprisingly one supermarket was open so we went shopping. There was one TV turned on. Suddenly we heard a groan of disappointment. Brazil - Germany 0-1. Soon after another groan and another and another. What the hell 0-4? After the fifth goal some people started to shout: 'come on Germany, one more!' And soon they got what they wanted. 0-6, 0-7 and finally one consolation goal that no one cared about anymore. We drove through the city and it was absolutely deserted, not even one person. On the faces of Natalia and Roger I could see more of a shock and disbelief than sadness. I couldn't believe it either. Later on we started to joke about it, the internet was already full of memes. That was probably the most sane reaction to such a disaster.

I stayed in the house of Roger and Natalia for a few days. They were great couple, both very smart and spiritual. Their clothes shop did okay, but because it was wintertime they obviously couldn't sell any bikinis, so they were thinking of going to Nordeste and sell clothes there from their hippie kombi. I thought it was a great idea, it would be holidays and business combined together. One day they brought me to Mata Atlântica, the Atlantic Forest that was covering nearby hills. Marcelo and his friends had an organic farm there. They were growing loads of food, they had so much avocado they couldn't eat it all. For me the most interesting were the juçara palm trees. Their tiny berries could be turned into nutritious and tasty pulp just like similar berries from the north called açai. The pulp served with granola was becoming a popular breakfast in Brazil and Marcelo was selling juçara as well. They needed volunteers from time to time and I thought I would stay there for a bit, but once Aileen booked her flight to Peru, I had little time. Marcelo was constantly coming up with new ideas, he was overwhelmed with them sometimes, joking that he would need two lives to realise them all. His latest experiment was juçara cheese. It's so great to see people really into something.

From Capão da Canoa I went a bit more south to Pelotas. I couldn't leave Brazil without visiting Martha again. Getting there was so easy, for the first lift I didn't wait more than fifteen minutes and the second one, from the tolls near Porto Alegre, was in just two minutes. On the way we were listening to the radio transmission from the World Cup final. So this time Germany. Martha was already awaiting me in the same apartment on Osório Square. She lived with her new boyfriend Átila who played in a band called Barrio Sur.

Martha as always was involved in so many things, now for example beside preparing for her thesis defense she was recording a video describing in sign language how to bake bread. Me and Átila took a little part in this project as well. She knew how to get other people involved. The first time I visited her we were spending most of the time in Munaya, the artistic collective run by her and her friends. Unfortunately the collective didn't exist anymore. She said the last time I arrived was probably the best time to visit her. Munaya was on, it was a summertime, but for me it didn't really matter, I still felt great in Pelotas, it still felt like home. Actually now Brazil started to feel like home, it felt so familiar, I felt like I knew this country, like I understood the people. And I never really lived there, I spent there altogether less than five months. Quite strange.

After a few days of preparations and many rehearsals made at Martha's apartment came the day of the defense. We went to one of the buildings of the Federal University of Pelotas where some friends were already awaiting with their fingers crossed. We entered a classroom and when all the professors arrived Martha started to present her thesis. It was called The paradox of the author-producer. Difficulties and possibilities of making theatre in the southern part of the state of Rio Grande do Sul. The professors had many questions after and in my opinion it only meant they were really interested in the topic of her research. It all went very well. Congratulations!

The same evening Martha and Átila organised a churrasco, a typical barbecue in a house of their friends to celebrate the defense. First Átila and other band members had a rehearsal so we had some live music. I could call their style Panamerican. After that we began to enjoy great food and cold beers. Arthur and Francesco turned again into Barbra and Beth in their cabaret show, at the party there were also Gabi and Bruna, people I met a year and a half before. In the morning our heads were a bit heavy, but it was worth it.

After doing nothing for a day in the apartment we went the next day to Laranjal on the coast of Lagoa dos Patos with Martha and Átila. It was a warm and sunny afternoon and we were enjoying chimarrão sitting on the pier and taking pictures while Átila was playing guitar. On my last night in Pelotas we went out and while Martha and Átila wanted to go back home early I stayed with Arthur, Fransesco and Gabi and we soon moved to an after. For Arthur and Francesco it was a goodbye party. They were going soon to Portugal for their student exchange. So it was a kind of a goodbye night for all the three of us.

In the morning I had a short visit to the renovated Mercado Central where Átila was having a jam with other local musicians. After lunch Martha and Átila brought me to a bus stop on the main street. Another goodbye in this trip, but I didn't feel sad, I actually felt happy I had friends in this part of the world. And it all started in Ireland so many years ago. I knew we would see each other again, I was back and I would be back.

I found a lift straight from the road just before it got dark directly to Porto Alegre. I wanted to meet up there with Alex, Martha's ex who moved out from Pelotas some time ago. Unfortunately his phone was off for most of the day and after a few more tries to contact him I decided to grab the last subway and head to the outskirts of the city. Maybe some other time Alex. I spent another night on posto BR, but this time they were more like my hostels rather than places where I got stuck for hours.

After breakfast I started to head to my final destination in Brazil, the same place where I began my second visit to this country, to Foz do Iguaçu. Hitching was usually easy, only at one point I waited for like two hours. First I was taken by a family with kids, then by students and finally by a truck driver. Again it was a convoy of two lorries and the guys were chatting on the radio a lot. They dropped me some forty kilometres before the city in the early afternoon the next day. An hour later I was already in the city centre after two more lifts. The landscapes were changing all the time in those two days. Pampa near Porto Alegre, Araucaria forests in the interior of the state of Santa Catarina and finally the jungle of eastern Paraná.

'Take the bus to Vila C,' I read the instructions again sitting at the bus stop. Soon after a hard bench turned into a comfy couch on which many couchsurfers crushed before. I was in the house that three students of anthropology were renting. Taisa and Effy were Brazilians, though from different parts of the country and Maite came from Ecuador. They called their house Antro C and it was a place full of recycled furniture and an orchard where bananas and coffee were growing.

Iguaçu Falls

Taisa was of Polish origin and grew up in a Polish-Ukrainian village in the state of Paraná. It was interesting to listen to her stories about how her granny was cooking meals I actually knew. Effy was from the capital city of Brasilia and did some backpacking and hitchhiking in other South American countries. Maite as an exchange student from Ecuador had some tips for me about her country. I wasn't the only couchsurfer in the house. Fausto and Ana were from Colombia almost finishing their Brazilian adventure. Pretty much everyone spoke both languages so we were switching between Portuguese and Spanish in a funny way.

One of the main attraction of Foz were obviously the waterfalls and I couldn't miss it. I decided to see them only from the Brazilian side even though many people claimed it was better on the other side. After the recent floods some of the trails in Argentina were still closed though and including the prices of buses it was more expensive. I also didn't want more stamps in my passport I needed space for other countries. I went there with Fausto and Ana and it was absolutely worth it, especially the last part when I could nearly touch this roaring wall of water. Depending on the movement of the clouds rainbows were drawn and erased on the background of the furious river by invisible artists. Stunning view.

Antro C was such a chill out house that I actually stayed longer than I planned. And I'd love to stay more with that positive and intelligent people, but I had to go. I didn't have many deadlines during this trip, but Aileen now created one. I had to hitch well over five thousand kilometres in just five weeks if I didn't want to leave her with her plan B. And some beautiful places were probably on the way. After a bus ride to the main road I started to cross another natural border this time called River Paraná. After a year and a half spent in now familiar Chile, Argentina and Brazil I finally entered the territory of the country I knew almost nothing about. Welcome to Paraguay!

___
* Porteño - colloquial name for someone from Buenos Aires.
** Cerveja - beer in Portuguese.
*** Pedágio - in Portuguese toll.

I forgot how heavy all my stuff was! I did a few hitching trips during my time in Valpo but never fully geared. They were short trips so I didn't need it all. And now, after more than a year I had even more things. My spine wasn't too happy, but I knew it would get used to it again.

Hitching was easy, as nearly always in Chile. With a few short lifts I ended up at the station on Panamerican Highway from where I was picked up before the sunset. The truck was going to Los Vilos and after 10 p.m. I ended up at the same Copec where we camped with Aileen on our way to Elqui Valley. There wasn't much movement, but I still decided to hitch for an hour or two, and only then give up and pitch my tent. After around two hours, when I was ready to call it a day another lorry stopped. Straight to La Serena.

I crashed for a few hours at the bus station and at dawn started to look for a good hitching spot. The morning was freezing, maybe three, four degrees, but with that breeze from the Pacific it felt so cold I had to jump to warm up. I checked my map, there was a petrol station a few miles up the road, but according to the locals public buses didn't go there. At the place where dual carriageway was turning into a regular road a traffic jam started to build up so I quickly scribbled 'Copec' and in a minute got a ride with a four wheel drive to the station.

The plan was to get to Antofagasta in three days and it still seemed possible. In that city two girls from couchsurfing were awaiting my arrival. From La Serena I had a lift to Vallenar, then to Copiapó and finally to the famous Bahia Inglesa, all of that with private cars. It was getting drier and drier, I was entering Atacama Desert, the driest place on Earth. There was something in deserts that really attracted me, but in the same time after a few days I felt like running away. It just seemed so inhospitable. In Bahía Inglesa I was hoping to camp on the beach, especially that it wasn't cold, but it was invaded with Portuguese man o' war - a marine creature looking like a blue jellyfish. All the beaches in the area were closed, as its venom caused severe pain. In this case I camped at the outskirts of the village near a nice viewpoint.

Many people were recommending me Bahía Inglesa and it was a nice village with white beaches between rocks. Unfortunately at this time of the year it was chilly, cloudy and empty. There were more dogs on the streets than people. I haven't seen any blue creatures in the morning, maybe the alarm was over, or maybe they would come up again with the tide. After a short walk I was brought quickly to the nearby town of Caldera where I could hitch further north.

Around lunchtime I had a lift with another truck to Chañaral. Most truckers I met told me that they really liked to pick up hitchhikers, as this road was boring to drive through. Total emptiness, not even one straw of grass. Just stones, sands and dust. Different planet. The fact that Chile was such a long but narrow country was helping hitchhikers, in most parts there was only one main road connecting the north and the south.

In Chañaral I had a lift after maybe an hour and the guy told me he could bring me only to the junction with C-13, a regional road leading to Diego de Almagro. My first question was: is there any water and food? I didn't want to end up in the middle of the desert without supplies. He said there was a restaurant, so after a second of thought I jumped inside. When we arrived there all the clouds and mists of the coast were behind us. Even though the Panamericana was not in the motorway standard here, the junction was grade separated, so I had a high speed traffic to deal with. Not good. I went to the mentioned restaurant and there were two trucks parked and one police car. I asked the drivers for a lift and heard they were not allowed to pick up hitchhikers in this section of the road. Strange, I never heard of that before.

The fact was that for around four hundred kilometres, beside some mines there was practically nothing, until Antofagasta not even one village. And most trucks were going to those mines. Being dropped off at the exit to the mine road could be dangerous in the driest place of the planet. Cars were passing so fast. After nearly two hours of no luck I decided to go back to Chañaral and hitch in a place with some speed limit. I was always wondering why the same people driving slowly could pick you up and driving fast usually didn't care. They must think: 'oh too late, someone else will pick him up.'

It was late afternoon when I finally found a lift to Antofagasta. The car driver worked in the field of heavy industry. We were going through the darkness talking constantly and at some point he asked if it was okey to stop for a moment to stretch the limbs.
'I always do it when I drive through the desert by night. Just stop, turn off the lights and smoke a cigarette staring at the stars,' he said taking out a lighter.
'I would probably do the same if I lived here. Well, beside smoking a cigarette, I never liked them.'
We stood silent for a moment. And the stars... If I was a bit taller I could stand on tiptoes and peep through one of those innumerable holes to see what's beyond the universe. Transcendent moment of silence. We arrived in Antofagasta around 11 p.m. and my driver got me all the way to the northern outskirts of the city where my hosts lived.

When I entered the apartment of Nathy and Clau there was another couchsurfer called Alex. One of the first questions I heard was: 'are you up for a party?' Sure! Soon we moved to the city centre to catch up with girls' friends and then we enjoyed some beers either at the Huanchaca ruins where all the students partied or on the beach. Everyone was surprised that I could deal so well with the Chilean slang and accent and I was just joking that I'm actually Chilaco*. It was bright when we got back home. Another great carrete** in Chile.

Both Clau and Nathy were students and they were smart and cool girls to hung around with. I felt absolutely comfortable at their place either when partying together or just having a quiet movie night. Alex, who was from France was a great lad as well, he was also on his trip around the world and in the same time inventing his own imaginary universe with different planets and languages, something like Tolkien's worlds. A man of amazing imagination.

It was hard to leave this cosy and friendly place, but finally one afternoon I gave a big hug to everyone and started to walk towards a junction next door. It looked like a good spot for hitching. After maybe fifteen minutes it started to rain. A rain in Atacama Desert! Wow! It actually helped me to find a lift, this time with two ladies going to Mejillones. One of them was originally from the south of Chile and she was so happy to see the rain, she missed it so much. A proper rain in this area was a rare phenomenon happening once in a few years. Most of the precipitation was in the form of drizzle or from the condensation of the coastal fog known as camanchaca.

I was dropped at the toll station on Ruta 1, the coastal road connecting Antofagasta and Iquique. Normally it wasn't possible to hitch just near the booths, I always had to move further out, but because of the rain the security guard let me stay under the roof. I could practically talk to people paying the toll. Great because it was already dark. In a few minutes I had a lift straight to Iquique with a 4x4. Middle age man who picked me up was on his business trip. Iquique was a duty free zone so it had a lot of commerce. There were only two places like this in the country, here and in Punta Arenas in the extreme south.

We arrived in Iquique late in the evening and I went to the bus station to grab a nap. On my way I noticed cracks in the asphalt and many destroyed buildings. That was the effect of strong earthquake that hit just a month earlier which epicentre was at the Pacific, less than two hundred kilometres away from the city. It had a magnitude of 8.2 and caused tsunami that damaged many fishing boats. In the morning I quickly popped in to a duty free shopping mall to buy a new waterproof backpack cover and then took a bus to Alto Hospicio, Iquique's suburbs. The view from the road connecting the two areas was amazing. Iquique was founded on a coastal platform at the foot of six hundred metres cliff on which Alto Hospicio was built.

After a quick lift to the junction with Panamerican Highway I was picked up by a couple going to Tacna. It was their first trip to Peru. I must say I was tempted to go with them but it wasn't time for Peru yet. My plan was to get to Arica, located only twenty kilometres from the border and than head back southeast to San Pedro de Atacama. I could go there straight away, but I wanted to get to the northernmost city of Chile first and have all Chile done by hitchhiking. After that I wanted to go to Argentina and Brazil again. I couldn't leave South America without revisiting my Brazilian friends. And the timing was perfect, the World Cup was about to start soon.

There was an open wifi at a Copec in Arica so I let Natalia know that I already arrived. In a few minutes I was picked up by her and her mom Gloria and taken to their beautiful house near the city centre. Natalia didn't have any references on CS but her profile was very well done for a newbie, so I decided to write to her. She quickly explained that her brother was hosting loads of people before moving to the US. Now she decided to sign up as well. She wasn't a newbie at all.

Invasion of Portuguese men o' war

I spent in their house a few days and it felt like visiting an auntie and a cousin I haven't seen for years. With Natalia and her friends we were partying all nights, usually on the beach, and after coming back home Gloria was waiting either with yummy breakfast or fantastic lunch for a hangover. Such a relaxed auntie! One day we went to the valleys Arica was famous for and it was surprising view. Thanks to the irrigation the valleys were green oasis cutting the desert. For that reason Arica was called the city of eternal spring. There were tomatoes, mangoes, cherimoyas, olives and many more fruits and veggies grown all year round. And I'd never seen so many hummingbirds flying around.

After the northernmost city of Chile I headed back south again and the first lift was with a group of Brazilians travelling in the classic Volkswagen Kombi. It was actually a funny coincidence as the night before we watched with Gloria and Natalia City of God, a film from Brazil. The guys were from Rio Grande do Sul, the same state where my beloved Pelotas was located and were on their way back home after visiting Paraguay, Bolivia, Peru and now Chile. We had a great chat even though my Portuguese was half gone. Natalia and Roger, who were the owners of the Kombi lived in Capão da Canoa on the coast. Marcelo had an organic farm in the Atlantic Forest with his friends and told me to pop in once I was around as they sometimes needed volunteers. Sounded great, especially that they were growing juçara, a southern type of açai***. Its fruits were used to produce probably the most tasty pulp I had ever tried.

After a night spent on the desert at the outskirts of one town it took me the whole day to get to Calama where I finally found a wifi. There was a new message from CS. Cool, I had a couch in San Pedro de Atacama. It was very popular destination, so I was afraid it could be hard to find one. Now I had to get there and the sun was already getting red, but luckily half an hour later I didn't have to worry about that anymore. Together with an old man who owned a hotel in town we started to climb up the Cordillera Domeyko, named after Polish geologist who migrated to Chile in the 19th century. A pity it was getting dark as the views were astonishing.

From the town centre I was picked up by Yerka who just finished her work in one of hundreds of tour companies operating in the area. After a quick refreshment in her house we went to visit Luis, her Argentinian friend who also worked in tourist industry. San Pedro had this chilled out atmosphere which was attracting many foreigners and some of them decided to settle here for a while. But it wasn't only the town that was bringing so many visitors, but the breathtaking nature around. I couldn't wait to see it by daytime.

The first thing I spotted leaving the house of Yerka the next day was the snow-capped Licancabur. This symmetric volcano was dominating in the landscape. The mornings were really cold in San Pedro as it was located on a plateau at altitude of 2,400 metres above sea level, so leaving without a warm sweater and a jacket was impossible. But then, during the day it was getting quite hot and I had to remove it layer by layer. I spent the day wondering around town and trying to figure out what could I see without spending a fortune. Unfortunately most tours were too expensive for me, even though I could get a discount thanks to Yerka or Luis. So I had to skip the salt flats, lagoons with pink flamingos or geyser fields. I wouldn't have time for that anyways as I had to leave the country in a few days.

The next day I jumped on the bike Yerka lent me and went to the famous Valley of the Moon which was about ten kilometres from the town. And it was like a trip to the moon! I had never seen such a landscape, it was so picturesque I could take thousand photos and it still wouldn't be enough. The texture and the colours were changing constantly depending on the angle of the sunlight. And the best show was just before the sunset. It was like a culmination of the spectacle repeated day after day by nature, spectacle that will last even when all the viewers, us humans, will be long gone.

During my stay in San Pedro I received phone calls from Tami and Josefa from La Valija and from Aileen. They knew those were my last days in Chile and soon my Chilean number wouldn't be active. It was nice to hear their voices, I already missed them. Before starting to hitch I went to speak with PDI, the investigation police which was also responsible for immigration. I wanted to confirm which was my actual last day to cross the border and where to get my stamps, as there were two control points, one in San Pedro and one at Jama Pass on the other side of the border. In case of going to Argentina all the paperwork was done at the latter one. I was also told that during the winter the border crossing was open only between 7 a.m. and 7 p.m. and most trucks were leaving San Pedro as early as 5 a.m.

I left Yerka's house around four thirty and went to the junction where the road 27-CH was beginning. Surprisingly there were only two trucks, but the drivers told me that everyone always waited two kilometres further up the road. Once I arrived at the spot I saw a queue of maybe ten lorries, two buses and a handful of cars, all of them full. Most truckers told me they couldn't give me a lift as they were transporting dangerous goods and the Argentinian Gendarmería didn't permit passengers. My best bet was a Paraguayan truck bringing cars from the duty free zone in Iquique, but there was only one such truck, already with three passengers inside. It looked bad and it was fucking freezing.

After opening the border, which was later than supposed I spent hours near the junction and only a few cars and lorries passed. The last hours in a baking hot sun. Was the traffic always so scarce here or was there some kind of emergency, I didn't know what to think about it. Finally in the afternoon a firefighters car passed and a minute later came back to tell me the border was closed because of the weather conditions. The cops who were closing the border saw me hitching there and didn't say anything. Bastards! Luckily I left myself one extra day for such a case. After all, this road was reaching the altitude of 4,810 metres above sea level. Things like that happened.

I showed up at the same spot the next morning and the queue wasn't any longer. Soon the border was opened and I was left alone again. After five minutes I saw a truck in the distance. It looked like it had some pipes on its trailer. Argentinian plates. And it started to slow down. Yes, I got you! We started to climb up and up and up. I saw some geysers on one side, some llamas on the other and finally leftovers of snow after a recent storm. The driver offered me coca leaves to chew in order to survive altitude sickness. And I must say it worked, my dizziness soon diminished. When we were close to the border he told me he had to wait for papers till the next day, but I could cross the border on foot and find someone on the other side to get me down to San Salvador de Jujuy. Unfortunately he wasn't right.

Soon after getting to the Immigration I was informed by the Chilean officer I couldn't cross the border on foot for the safety reason. The temperature by night could drop down to -20° Celsius. Even by day it was very cold, the wind was mental. I was told to find a car driver willing to give me a ride first. The problem was there were almost no cars. After an hour I went to the other building where truck drivers did clearance. I was immediately asked by the Gendarmería how I got here and where was the truck that brought me. They looked like they wanted to punish the guy rather than help me. I was sent back to the car drivers' office. I got stuck at the altitude of 4,000 metres.

'Hey and you, what are you doing? Are you ok?' I was asked by an Argentinian Immigration officer that I haven't seen before. He must had seen me going round in circles.
'Well, I'm trying to cross the border, but the PDI says I can't do it on foot.'
'Are you hitchhiking?'
'Yes, I was brought here but now I can't find anyone.' He nodded and then went to speak with the PDI and with other Argentines.
'Come with me' he said after a moment. We went to the truckers' office. Again PDI, Gendarmería, Argentinian Immigration. The PDI officer said he couldn't let me go without writing a licence plate number in their electronic form.
'So what should I do,' I asked the Argentine, he looked like the only person willing to help.
'Wait here, I'll find you a driver.' After a few minutes he showed up with one Paraguayan. 'He'll take you.' Only now the PDI wanted to see my passport.

The officer started to flick through the pages.
'You've been in Chile for a while,' said the policeman still flicking. 'Hey, what were you doing here for so long?'
'Em...' I couldn't say I was working, 'I met a girl in here.'
'Ha ha ha, one Chilean chick got you!' they all started to laugh. One stamp, another stamp. Sorted! 'Go to the petrol station and wait for him there. Or find someone else.' Now I could cross the border on foot. What a bureaucracy. At least I didn't lie. Thanks Aileen.

There was a wifi at YPF so I checked a few things and soon one Chilean truck driver asked if I needed a lift. We drove for hours and hours chatting and chewing coca. There were moments of driving down and climbing up, but for most of the day we were going through quite flat desert plateau, the Andean altiplano. Late in the afternoon we crossed Salinas Grandes del Noroeste, large salt flat that the road was cutting in half. The snow white salt contrasted with black asphalt and the blue sky that in the mirror was actually purple.

When we reached the last mountain range before heading down towards the valleys it was already dark. On one of the last turns before reaching the top we saw a truck parked on the side. It looked like it needed a tow. When I jumped out the cabin my head was blown away by extremely strong and cold wind. A night spent here could be lethal. It took us three tries in order to bring it to the top, from where it could do alone. After receiving a big thanks we started to climb down through endless switchbacks and after around two hours of constant descent we arrived in Purmamarca where I got off. Warm breeze welcomed me. The altiplano was behind me.

In the morning I went to see the town and after breakfast started to hitch towards San Salvador de Jujuy. It was so nice to see trees again. It took me only one lift to get to the city and with every kilometre the yungas, a subtropical forest, was getting thicker and greener. Even though I sent many requests no one from Jujuy responded so I decided to continue towards Salta, especially that I didn't have that much time. Francisco from Hostal Barrio Paraíso was going to see the World Cup as well and we agreed to meet in Rio. He would be in Brazil for only ten days, I had to speed up in order to see him.

Floods in the region of Entre Ríos in Argentina

There wasn't any good hitching spot in Jujuy so I took a bus to one of satellite towns where I spent the night. I arrived in Salta around midday the next day on the back of an old rusty truck. I sent a message to Gabi from CS and went to see the city centre. It had many historic buildings and it was called by Argentines Salta the Beautiful. Unfortunately the day was grey, heavy clouds were hanging low. In the afternoon I sent another message and later also tried to call, but there was silence. I started to worry. Not about the night, I could always camp somewhere, or find some cheap accommodation, but I was worrying about Gabi. We had a nice chat the night before and now I could see that she didn't use whatsapp since then. Maybe something wrong happened. In the morning I did some more sightseeing and since there was no news from her I decided to continue travelling. Maybe she just lost her phone. Never heard from her again.

I quickly found a lift to the junction near General Güemes and maybe half an hour later to Rosario de la Frontera where I stayed for the night at one YPF. After breakfast I was picked up by a driver who was going almost all the way to Córdoba. Nearly eight hundred kilometres with one car. He chose an alternative route via Santiago del Estero, but soon regretted it. The road was empty, but full of potholes. The landscape started to change, yungas first turned into monte with large cacti and then into wet pampa full of tall grasses. I arrived in Córdoba early in the morning after being dropped for the night at one station close by.

In Córdoba I stayed at Samuel's, a local who accepted my last minute couch request. He was working all days long, but there was a spare key, so I could freely move around. I heard a lot about Córdoba while working in La Valija and that was one of the reasons to come over. The old town had a nice atmosphere especially now when it smelled with autumn and the trees were dropping their yellowed leaves. On my last night I went to a couchsurfing meeting where it was always possible to meet interesting people and then some of us went to a club. It was a cumbia night, not really my kind of music, but I ended up on the dance floor anyways.

I woke up later than I planned and just before hitting the road I received a message from Monika, a Polish girl I met in Valpo. We saw each other only once but chatted a lot on facebook after that .
'So what's the plan for your route? Dorota sais you're going to Brazil' she asked at some point.
'First Rosario and then all the way to Rio!'
'Wanna stay at my boyfriend's in Santa Teresa? He's a musician.'
'He's got any room? Where is it?'
'He has a house on the top of Santa Teresa with a bunch of musicians. I'll ask him in a second.'
'Santa Teresa, sounds familiar...'
'Above Lapa.'
'Ah, in the city centre!' I started to get excited.
Monika travelled a lot and she was such a crazy girl! After Chile she went to Brazil where she met her boyfriend and right now she was in Ecuador with her friend Dorota, who also visited me in Valparaíso. Maybe half an hour later it was all confirmed. I had a place in Rio!!!

Rio was like a magnet, I really wanted to go back there, but I was worried about the prices. I checked some hostels on the internet and most were charging so much during the world cup, even six times the normal price. Finding a couch also seemed impossible, they were all probably booked way in advance. I wanted to go there anyways maybe just for one day to see Francisco and watch one match in the Fan Fest. I wasn't into soccer really but the World Cup was a different story. I could leave my luggage in some locker and stay awake all night. That was my plan. Now, thanks to Monika I could forget about that plan.

I checked the dates to see when Chile was playing. Getting to Brazil for their first game was impossible, but their second match was in eight days and it was on my birthday. I had three thousand kilometres, seemed doable. Francisco, prepare a beer! After all that great news and replanning I arrived at the station near Córdoba's bypass late in the afternoon and couldn't find anything until the end of the day. Seven more days, I still should be fine.

After breakfast I was picked up by a truck driver going to Rosario, at least that's what I heard at the beginning. Later he said he had to unload somewhere off the main road and then we realised it was like hundred kilometres off the motorway. Unloading took a lot of time and even though Paula, a friend from Valpo, organised me a place to crash for that night in Rosario, we didn't get there that night. The driver was really tired and had to stop for a nap. I slept in the cabin of the truck and lucky me I didn't have to camp. It was freezing.

We arrived at 8 a.m. and I just went to have a quick look in the historic old town where celebrations of the Flag Day were taking place and then kept on going. I crossed a long hanging bridge over Paraná River on foot and arrived at the peaje. I was told there by Gendarmería that I couldn't walk any further and that hitching was not allowed there actually either, but they would make an exception. I had no idea why. Soon after I got a lift to Nogoyá. We entered Entre Rios, a region between two massive rivers, Paraná and Uruguay. All that area was heavily flooded, many cattle herds were trapped on islets, a lot of cows drowned. Some farmers were trying to rescue them with boats. I could see it all from the car purring along the road built on a causeway.

I arrived in Nogoyá exactly for the game between Chile and Australia which I watched at the petrol station. 3-1. Chi chi chi le le le! After the match I stuck my thumb up again even though it was dark and managed to get to Villaguay where I spent the night shaking in my tent. I got the first lift in the morning quickly, but for the second one I had to wait a few hours and only early in the afternoon I was picked up by a girl going to Concordia. I was a bit confused which route to take. There were two options: via Uruguayana and Porto Alegre or via Foz do Iguaçu and Guarapuava. The problem sorted out itself when I found the next lift. That truck was going to Posadas which was close to Foz.

In the evening the driver stopped to buy one thing in a small village. His shopping was a leg of capybara, world's largest rodent that lived in that area. The leg was huge and unfortunately it was raw and frozen. I was really curious what it tasted like, trying exotic food was that part of travelling I liked a lot. Maybe some other time. We came to Posadas at 11 p.m. and I went for a desired sleep. I knew I wouldn't shake that night, the air was warm and filled with the scent of the tropics.

The next day with three lifts I arrived quite early in Jardín America. There were many patches of jungle we drove through, I was so close to the border. In the afternoon my winning streak was over, suddenly hitchhiking just stopped working. I knew Argentina was playing that night, but there were still many cars and trucks on the road most of them covered in national flags. When the time of the game arrived I just sit inside the petrol station and watched it as well, trying to hitch would be pointless. The town just stopped, the road was completely empty. After the match celebrations started and I gave up and jumped into my tent.

After waking up very early I had a lift straight away to Puerto Iguazu. I was finally on the border. The day was hot and humid. I spent the last pesos on food and went to the parking lot near Customs to ask around. Most drivers advised me to cross the border first and try to hitch on the other side, as the majority had to wait for documents and that was taking forever. After obtaining the exit stamp from Argentina I marched to the other bank of Iguaçu river, which turbid water had a colour of coffee with milk. A few miles up the river there were famous Iguaçu Falls, but I didn't intend to see it yet, especially that some viewpoints were still closed after the flood. I would visit it later, now it was time to run to Rio. I had just two and half days. Hard, but spark of hope still existed.

___
* Chilaco - a mix of the words Chileno and Polaco, Chilean and Polish.
** Carrete - Chilean slang word for party.

'Have you heard this tune?' Gabriel asked me typing something in the search bar.
'What's that?' I asked curiously.
'Great song about Valpo man.' I started to listen a bit surprised.
'It's like samba, why?'
'I think Joe's father was Brazilian.' I quickly checked it out and it was truth. Joe Vasconcellos was a son of a Brazilian diplomat married to a Chilean woman. The song was actually a cover of other song called La Joya del Pacífico, but most people knew it by its chorus Valparaíso de mi amor - Valparaíso my love. This tune was fitting perfectly to the feelings we both had about the city.

Life in La Valija changed only slightly, Josefa and Tami had more extra shifts for both of us, Gabriel also started to do some night shifts in another hostel so he couldn't complain economically. I was doing okay, maybe not saving much, but buying a few beers on a night out wasn't a problem. One evening I received a message from Couchsurfing even though I wasn't using it for a while: 'hey if you're still in Valpo and would like to grab a drink and practice your Spanish could be fun discovering some nice bars. Greets. Aileen.' Discovering new bars? Always up for that. And I could afford it!

On the next Saturday after a little chat on whatsapp with Priscilla who moved from Brazil to China to study, I put my new jacket on and started to walk towards Plaza Anibal Pinto to meet Aileen. I was a bit hungover after a crazy night, but if someone invites you for a beer it's hard to say no. I wasn't sure what to expect, her profile didn't have much info, on the road I was usually picking people with lots of description about themselves, but this time it wasn't me who arranged the meeting. When I arrived, a bit late like a typical Latino, Aileen was already there. After exchanging his and hellos we started to walk towards a bar called Pajarito, recommended by Aileen. Like most Chilean girls she had long dark hair and wasn't too tall. Her eyes had this Mapuche* look, but were bigger, really big and shiny. And her name was so un-Chilean, it was actually Irish. I liked it!

Straight from the beginning we had some things to talk about as she studied geography for a while just to exchange it later for pedagogy. She was also very curious about CS because she was still quite new to that. But the thing we were chatting the most about were travels. She wanted to change from being a tourist to a traveller. With my Spanish I felt completely comfortable and while it was still full of errors I wanted to avoid, some people thought these mistakes were cute. Aileen was one of them.

After a few rounds she invited me to join her friends and move to another place. In the same square we met earlier we joined her housemate Oscar and two friends from Santiago, Marina and Pauly. It was Saturday and Pauly's birthday, so it was time to have some fun. First we went to a club called La Sala where we stayed till the end and then the guys mentioned something about an afterparty in Morgana. The place was an illegal club with a bouncer opening the door after knocking, a bar and a dance floor in a normally empty old building. When we arrived there it felt like entering some secret club, place known only by locals, probably only some locals. When we finished dancing and went outside the sun was already up and shining. It was 9 a.m. Fantastic night!

Saving some money was possible those days, but it was slow and I wanted to either find another job or start busking with something. Pantomime was out of the question and giant soap bubbles, which I experimented with a bit in Poland and Ireland, were too unreliable. It was hard to prepare a good solution, even harder to travel with it and the bubbles were really weather dependent. Luckily Gabriel brought me a new idea: contact juggling. When I heard juggling I wasn't too sure about it, but when I saw some videos I wanted to give it a try. It was so different than traditional juggling, it looked unreal! I started to save money to buy a crystal ball, it wasn't cheap.

A few days later Aileen invited me to see Laguna Verde, a village not far from Valpo where we spent the whole afternoon on the beach, looking at the cliffs and chatting over a few beers. The other day I invited her for a movie night in La Valija, then she invited me to her place for dinner and we started to see each other again and again and again. And after meeting her mother twice, once in Valpo and the other time in Santiago where Aileen was originally from, we realised we could actually start calling ourselves a couple. Una Chilena y un loco Polaco**, quite exotic. None of us was actually looking for a relationship, but when you feel comfortable with someone, why not?

Santiago, which I visited for the first time just to buy a juggling ball, wasn't too impressive for me. It was a modern, developed city with a good subway system, great roads and generally good infrastructure, but it lacked that unique vibe Valpo had, it was grey, almost as grey as Warsaw I remembered. When I was there I met up with Aileen who went to see her family and we ended up in an Irish pub called Shamrock. It was the first proper Irish pub I went to in such a long time. I was hoping I would find draught Guinness, but the lads working there told me Guinness didn't sell tap beer to South America. Well let's try some local stout then! It wasn't bad but... after Guinness there was always but.

Santiago

From Santiago I brought two juggling balls, a cheap rubber one for practising and one made of acrylic for the future. The acrylic one looked like made of transparent crystal and it was easy to scratch, definitely not for the beginners. I started to download videos and books about contact juggling and for the first few days the ball was all I could think of. I saw some lads busking at red lights in front of cars with traditional juggling, but never with contact. It was so much harder to learn, but performed properly it seemed much more magic, much more out of this world.

Winter months were passing by and sometimes the temperature was dropping a lot by nights, never below zero, but without a proper heating it felt cold. With Gabriel we were collecting wood from old burnt buildings or renovation sites to make fire in La Valija. There was only one small stove for the whole hostel, so we were closing the doors and staying all close to the reception looking at the hypnotic fire like at some guru. There weren't many guests at this time of the year, there was even one night when we had no one beside the staff. The way to survive for La Valija was to accept big groups of students coming for conferences. They were not as much fun as travellers but bills had to be paid.

On the beginning of September everyone started to talk about the eighteenth, the awaited Fiestas Patrias, national holiday commemorating the beginning of the independence process, which started in 1810. I remembered Aileen and Pauly talking about it the day we met, saying I had to stay till the eighteenth as it was a mental party all over the country. At that time I said I would probably be back on the road. Many weeks passed and I was still in Valpo and it actually felt like we met yesterday. It's so easy to get stuck in a place you enjoy.

The celebrations unofficially started at the weekend before the eighteenth and in La Valija we put national flags all over the place. Girls bought loads of meet for the barbecue, the fridge was also full of booze. Aileen's parents came from Santiago with her little brother Jorge, as well as Pauly and other friends from the neighbourhood and they were also throwing a barbecue every evening. The most popular drink during Fiestas Patrias was terremoto, a strange mix of sweet white wine, grenadine syrup and pineapple ice cream. After a few glasses I could literally feel an earthquake in my head and that's what terremoto meant. One evening Aileen, her parents and friends came to La Valija so I could celebrate with my two new families at the same time. Then we all went out to ramada in Playa Ancha, a site full of tents selling food and drinks with live music and dance floors. These venues were the places where most Chileans enjoyed their national holiday, drinking unbelievable amounts of terremoto and dancing cueca, their traditional dance. It didn't seem too easy, but after many earthquakes everything was becoming easier. Maybe beside coming back home.

When I had a few days off I was sometimes disappearing from the hostel and staying in Aileen's house which was a nice change. We both loved to watch The Big Bang Theory cosied up with blankets with her cat Pascual warming up our knees. When one day Pauly popped in we went for a short trip to Horcón, a fishermen village fifty kilometres north from Valpo. A small beach in its centre was filled with colourful boats, the coastal mountain range was blending with a blue haze of the ocean far up north, the day was fresh but sunny, it just felt perfect. After grabbing yummy empanadas filled with cheese and sea food we wanted to go to another beach, but Pauly's car suddenly didn't want to start. At the end she had to call her insurance company which sent a tow truck and because there wasn't enough room for all of us in the cabin I came back sitting inside the car on top of the truck, holding confused Pascual. Perfect day!

'Let's go to La Campana again' Gabriel came up with an idea one afternoon.
'Actually why not,' I said. 'I'll ask Aileen, maybe she wants to go with us.'
Aileen arrived in the morning and after another sip of coffee we went to the station to take a subway to Limache. Beside the three of us there was Anne-Katherine going, a German girl staying in the hostel. Aileen was excited and worried in the same time as she never climbed any high mountain and La Campana wasn't the easiest trek. We were warned again that the final trail to the summit was closed for the winter, but we ignored it just like the first time and now we had much more daylight than in June. I had to wait sometimes for Aileen, it was a bit hard for her, but when we reached the top I was really proud. This girl had more than twenty pairs of shoes in her wardrobe, but none of them were proper for trekking. This time we could see not only the mighty cordillera, but also the ocean on the other side and the cargo ships in Quintero Bay.

'Can I ask you something?' Aileen broke a moment of silence while walking through the streets of Cerro Concepción the other day.
'Yeah?'
'What would you say if I liked to travel with you?'
'Em...' I wasn't expecting that question at all. 'Well, we could try, but it's not always easy.' I said diplomatically. I wasn't really sure about this idea, in the first moment it felt like someone was trying to take away my freedom. 'Maybe we would have to first try if you like it. We could go somewhere for a short trip.'
'Would be great. You know I really want to travel, but I'm afraid to do it alone.'
Aileen visited some beautiful places in South America, once with her cousin, the other time with her brother Freddy, but she wanted to do something more wild, more independent, not the typical tourist stuff. That was great, but deep inside I was afraid of losing my independence. I never really travelled with someone for longer, the maximum was probably two weeks and I really loved to be alone on the road. So many crazy situations happened on my way maybe because I wasn't part of a group, which usually is more closed to others. And the best was that I could always change my plans without discussing it. I really needed to think about it.

A few days later Gabriel asked me if I wanted to work in another hostel as they were looking for a receptionist and he had already two jobs. I was absolutely up for that, so we went to the place straight away. The hostel was called Barrio Paraíso and was just two blocks away from La Valija. Francisco, the owner of the hostel was a young lad, maybe in late twenties and he seemed really chilled out, fun guy. After a little chat the deal was done, I would start the next day. Perfect! Barrio Paraíso was more like a small hotel with only six private rooms. When I arrived there on the following day I was surprised that there was no proper booking system in a computer, just a good old copy book and pen. I didn't have to worry about online reservations, Francisco had mobile internet so he could manage it and call me to note it down. The place was very quiet, most of the guests were couples staying in their rooms when not sightseeing. There was actually nothing to do sometimes so I could watch documentaries and films or read books. On my second shift there I flicked through one of the guidebooks about Chile and after some recommendations from Fransisco I had an idea for a short trip with Aileen.

We wanted to start hitching early, but somehow didn't leave her house until midday. Aileen's backpack was full of nice food we prepared earlier, well it wasn't her backpack actually, she borrowed it from Gabriel. Her previous trips were made with a suitcase on wheels, she was diving into the world of backpacking and hitchhiking for the first time. We took a bus to Viña del Mar and on the way to the same spot I was using to hitch to Mendoza we popped in to one shop to buy a camping gas. I finally bought a tiny stove and could now enjoy hot coffee even in the wild. I took out a sign saying Los Vilos, our destination was Elqui Valley in the north, famous for the production of Pisco***.

'Hold the sign, it's your turn!'
'No, I feel embarrassed.'
'You wanna hitch and you're shy to do it? Come on Aileen!'
'Not yet, not yet. Ah, I feel so shy about it!'
I started to laugh, it's funny how we react when we try new things, sometimes in a completely different manner than we imagined. It took us more than half an hour to find a lift to the peaje in Quillota and slightly less to catch another ride. The family of three was going only to La Calera and at first I wasn't sure if I wanted to end up there as there was no station, just a motorway junction of Ruta 60-CH and Panamericana. We jumped in anyway and these good people did a detour to bring as to a Copec. For Aileen it was a new thing to see that someone wanted to do such things so selflessly. At the station I started to look around for a quiet spot to camp, it was getting dark, but a few minutes later we were sitting inside a truck.

We had a lift to La Serena, the truck was going far up north, but the driver told us he would stop for a nap in Los Vilos. When we arrived there we asked if we could camp beside the station and as always there was no problem at all. We warmed up some food, prepared a beautiful salad and some tea. If I wasn't invited for a meal I usually wouldn't eat that well on the road. Having a stove was definitely a change and having Aileen on the side was even bigger change. She cooked really well. My tent was a bit small for the two of us and all our luggage, but it didn't feel cold and the night was freezing. So far only pros.

At 4 a.m. we started to continue and by eight we reached La Serena. We couldn't see the transition of the landscape, once it got bright we saw semi desert around. In La Serena we took a bus to the airport in the eastern part of the city and then stuck the thumb out again. It was my thumb, Aileen still couldn't do it. With one quick lift we arrived in Vicuña welcomed by the heat and the blue sky. So nice. We were both tired after so little sleep the previous night and it was hard to motivate ourselves to move our asses from the town plaza, especially after a few beers. At the end we took a bus to Pisco Elqui where we decided to stay for the night. We pitched the tent at the top of the village in a place suggested by the locals. We had a fantastic view of the green valley surrounded by desert mountains. All the agriculture could exist there thanks to the irrigation system and we had one ditch with clean water next to our tent. A few more beers and we went for a desired sleep.

Elqui Valley

The next day we spent wandering around the village, sipping coffee in a lovely café and taking pictures, and in the afternoon we started hitching back. We both had to go to work. Aileen just found a job in a restaurant after spending the last couple of months on the dole. There wasn't much traffic, so I was practising contact juggling on the roadside and after around two hours without any luck we jumped on a bus to Vicuña. From there we quickly hitched a ride with one woman going a few miles down the road and just a second later with a guy driving to La Serena. We spent the night at the bus station where we managed to have some sleep. In the morning, after ten minutes at the traffic lights near the bus station we got a lift all the way to Santiago. Nearly five hundred kilometres with a huge Mack style truck. In the capital city we stayed at Aileen's family house in Maipú and the same evening went out with Pauly to see the concert of Miami Horror, a band I never heard of before, but girls loved it. From the road straight into the crowded live show.

The winter was over, the days started to be warmer and longer and it was time for me to renew my visa again. Mendoza for the third time. Aileen had never been there so we decided to hitch together and Deo was happy to host us in her new apartment. Once we left the coast it started to be hot as hell. It took us only a few lifts to get to our destination, all of them with Chilean drivers. Aileen even showed her thumb once! The heat in Mendoza was terrible, even worst then in San Felipe or Los Andes and it was just the beginning of December. I knew the city already and as we had very limited time because of our jobs we did very little sightseeing. Aileen preferred to look for Christmas gifts, especially for books which were really expensive in Chile because of the tax. It was nice to see Deo again and even though she seemed always happy, this time she was flying. She was getting ready for her Euro trip, something she was dreaming of for a long time. We came back to Valpo very late at night, but not because of slow hitchhiking, but because we left Deo's place late. It was hard to wake up early after a night out.

With the beginning of the summer we had more guests and Gabriel was really happy about it because he started his own business beside working in La Valija. As a surf lover he began organising surfing classes and trips for people staying in the hostels around. I went with him once and it was just as hard as I imagined. The waves twisted me so many times, it was like being in a giant washing machine. I didn't manage to stand on the board for more than two seconds and after a few hours spent in the water I was so wrecked I almost couldn't hold a cup of coffee in my hand.

Shortly before the Christmas time I got really sick with a strong fever and I wasn't sure if I would spend it in Santiago with Aileen's family. Luckily the infection lasted only for one and a half day. When we arrived in the house, beside the little Jorge there was Freddy, Aileen's second brother who lived with her in Valpo, as well as her grandparents and obviously her mother and father. Jorge couldn't wait for the arrival of Santa, he was talking about it all day long and it reminded me my nephews when they were younger. Santa finally arrived in the evening on the back of a pickup and went through all the neighbourhood, kids were in heaven. One of the gifts Aileen received was strange, it was an email. In the attachment there was a map. It was titled: Adventure 2014 - probable route of Aileen and Paluch. That was a present from Polish Santa. When Aileen saw it she started to cry and it really touched me. I didn't expect to see it, but I was sure I wanted to give her exactly this gift. By that time I was sure I wanted to travel with her. Later on came Pauly and Mary, the family good old friend and we had a couple of beers, loads of meat and Bison Vodka with apple juice, a cocktail from really exotic and far away country called Poland.

December was about to end and that meant everyone was preparing for the New Year's party. Most hostels weren't selling rooms and beds per nights but in packages and the prices were in my opinion way to high. The city was preparing a fireworks show, and it had ambition to be one of the biggest shows in the world. Geographically Valpo was great for that kind of stuff, lots of hills with great viewpoints. I watched it from the terrace in the house of Tami and it was really beautiful experience. The fireworks were brightening the sky above the ocean not only near Valparaíso but also Viña del Mar and far away in Reñaca. It lasted for nearly an hour. The party was everywhere, people were filling every corner, every staircase and that night drinking on the streets was officially allowed.

In the summer La Valija had much more staff than before and it was sometimes mental, especially when we were fully booked. Earlier we had our own space with Gabriel in the attic we adapted, but now the attic was full of mattresses and backpacks, it was hard to get a bit of privacy. There were up to seven staff members and it meant we were throwing a lot of parties between us. Only me and Gabriel were there for longer, most people were coming and leaving. We had some personalities from many countries for example Lisa, Sophie and Pierre-Jean from France, Tania and Greg from England, Felix, Anna and Alina from Germany, Greyson and William from the US, Rebeca from Sweden or Angelo from Brazil and Paolo and Elisa from Italy. The walls of La Valija had seen a lot, the best saying we could apply to our hostel would be 'what happens on board stays on board!'

With the summer passing by the good vibe between me and Aileen also started to pass by. Somehow the things started to go down. I made a mistake, she made a mistake, than me again. I was trying to fix it for a while, Aileen also gave it a chance, but after some time I realised it wasn't possible. A relationship is not some kind of device where you change a part and it works again. Sometimes the only solution is to break up. And that's what we did.

Soon after the break up I had to go to Mendoza again and decided it would be the last time. I would have three last months to spend in Chile, maximum two to save more money and the last one to see the north of the country. By that time I pretty much gave up the idea of busking with the contact juggling, at least for a while. With two jobs and so many things happening I couldn't find time for it and maybe it was just a flash in the pan, I had it with other things in the past. It seemed like the only thing I was really devoted to was hitchhiking. I never got bored with that. In Mendoza I was hosted by Deo's friend Natalia, as Deo went to Europe. Together with her friends we went out one night to an open air club in Cacheuta higher up in the mountains, where we could dance looking at the stars. Lovely place. Hitching through the border was very easy again and to come back to Valpo I needed only two lifts.

A few weeks after our last chat I received a message from Aileen. She was wondering if I was doing okay. Yeah I was and I was happy to receive that message. I didn't want to throw away our friendship to the rubbish bin only because we broke up. So many couples are unable to speak after they finish their relationship. I couldn't understand why. That message showed that both of us still could have a chat over a coffee or beer. It's better to look into the future than get stuck in the past.

I began to feel that these were my last weeks in Valparaíso and I wanted to enjoy them to the full. I started to go out a lot especially that we had an expert of night life working and living with us. Rebecca, who soon after moving in became Gabriel's girlfriend, was hired for the summer by Josefa to organise night fun for the guests. After some problems with neighbours we couldn't throw crazy parties in La Valija anymore, so we were motivating people to go out together to one of the clubs. One of our favourite was Terraza Mimi. It was probably the cheapest option to have a crazy night. There was usually good electro music and even though there was an entrance fee, everyone was allowed to bring own booze inside.

After one night out I was walking back home happy drunk and when I was close to La Valija I was suddenly punched in my head without any warning by three motherfuckers. I ended up on the ground and while the two of them continued to beat me in my head, the third one robbed everything from my pockets. Cerro Concepción was always a safe place and even though there were some assaults in the last week I thought it was just a bad luck. Now I was the unlucky one. After waking up the next day I fainted walking down the stairs. A minute after getting better I fainted again. The girls called a taxi and we went to the hospital where after many hours of waiting my brain was scanned. Doctors said everything was ok and all I needed was some rest. The same evening Aileen popped in to see how I was feeling. Everyone in the hill knew about it because both Josefa and Francisco spread the news so people could be more cautious. More or less in the same time Francisco's girlfriend Luisa and her friend Paula, who was living in Barrio Paraíso were also robbed by three guys, maybe the same ones. Carabineros were receiving reports but not doing much more about it. We all started to be quite paranoid those days.

Valparaíso on fire (source: www.servicioweb.cl)

One afternoon on my way to Barrio Paraíso I saw really dark cloud above one of the hills. It looked quite unnaturally. Soon the sound of sirens was echoing in the city. I turned the tv on. Forest fire spread with the wind and many houses were burning. The wind was mental that day and it was really hard for the firefighters to put the fire down. A few hours later the cloud covered all the sky, ashes began to cover the streets, the air was filled with smoky smell. After work I came to La Valija and there was no good news. It was still spreading, gas tanks were exploding, power outages were affecting all the city. I woke up in the morning and everyone was talking only about it. It was already certain that it was the biggest fire in the city's history. And it wasn't over. The state of national emergency was issued, soldiers were all over the place, many streets and roads were closed and fire engines were rushing up one by one. Helicopters were soon brought, but the fire, fuelled with strong wind wasn't giving up for many more hours. It lasted for two days and the first estimates were saying about two thousand houses burnt to the ground and at least two people killed. These numbers were rising.

It was amazing to see how quickly the citizens organised themselves, not even waiting for the official help from the government. Centres of support were quickly established and everyone rushed to help. Students and workers who received days off went up the hills to remove the rubble. In the centres volunteers were collecting and organizing gifts that were being brought by private cars and trucks sent by many companies. In Centro Cultural Trafon which was turned into one of those centres I managed to get dust masks, gloves and a shovel and I jumped on the first truck that showed up. When we arrived at one of the affected hills the view was shocking. It was like post nuclear war zone. There was so much rubble to be removed, immense work had to be done to rebuild the area, but with more and more volunteers walking up the hills with shovels in their hands it was going fast. The sense of solidarity was unbelievable. Sometimes I had goosebumps when shovelling.

After volunteering for a few days I had to take extra hours in Barrio Paraíso, Fransisco wanted to help some families he knew whose houses were destroyed. Aileen popped in to the hostel to talk about all that craziness. Everyone was affected by that situation, even foreigners who were just visiting the city when it happened. After some chat about the fire I told her I was about to leave in two, maybe three weeks. It was time to be back on the road. Her eyes turned sad and she started to cry. Again I wasn't expecting that kind of reaction. We agreed to go out soon and have some longer conversation. I was working a lot, but she was working like crazy. We didn't have a proper chat for a while.

Two days later we met up in one of the bars in Subida Ecuador. Our conversation quickly moved to travels.
'So are you planing any trip soon? Saving anything to make it happen?' I asked her.
'Actually no, I didn't save anything.'
'Why?'
'I don't know, somehow I didn't.'
'So what's your plan and what you do with your life then?
'I work a lot recently Paluch.'
'And still don't save. And in your free time?'
'I go for longboard sometimes.'
'And watch TV?'
'Yeah as well.'
'Aileen, I'm a bit disappointed. I thought you wanted to travel, to do something great with your life.' She didn't like these words, but I think she had to hear them.
'With you everything seemed possible, but...'
'Because it is possible, not only with me, there are so many women travelling alone, or with friends.'
'I'm afraid.'
'Fear is a natural feeling in life. I was afraid many times, I told you that. And I told that you have to treat it like an insect, confront it and kill it.'
'Yeah you told me. I don't know...' she seemed lost.

Aileen was one of the people that needed to be pushed. The fear of unknown was paralysing for them, while for me unknown was like a drug. I was always curious what was behind the next corner, but not always wanted to check it out. Sometimes I was too afraid. But it changed, partly thanks to other people. Now I was trying to push people to step out of their safety zone and start living. Life is now not tomorrow! I changed so many things in me and my life in the past. It was a process, but the most important was the first step. And sometimes we need someone to show us where to put our foot first.

After that meeting we started to speak more often with Aileen. One weekend Pauly came from Santiago, she wanted to say goodbye and we went out together with Oscar. We started to remind ourselves the way we met and the crazy parties we had. The other day I went for the last time to Santiago and stayed at Aileen's mother house. There was also her cousin Claudio and we were chatting for hours over a few bottles of wine. She was a trade unionist, really strong woman. She told me crazy stories of the fights she had with police during protests on the streets of Santiago and Valparaíso. I received a goodbye gift from her, a book about Salvador Allende. The next day I went with Freddy to their grandparents' house for lunch where I had a chance to say goodbye to their father. Then we hitched together with Freddy back to Valpo.

I was getting excited when thinking about being back on the road, but in the same time it was the hardest time since the beginning of my trip. I was about to leave behind so many fantastic people. Some of them I knew for a year. Yep, I spent a year in Valparaíso, it was hard to believe. My goodbye party was already planned, Fransisco offered to organise it together with Tami and Josefa in his mother's gallery Belle Epoque, which was just in front of La Valija. All the staff from the hostel was obviously invited, as well as all Francisco's friends I met in his hostel and all the people from Aileen's house.

During the barbecue party in the gallery we were reminding all the craziness that happened during the last year. It was so funny sometimes when I was coming to work to Barrio Paraíso. There were days I was showing up in the reception and Francisco after a quick look into my eyes was saying: 'oh man what happened the last night, throw yourself into the hammock upstairs!' and I was doing it, lying in the hammock in his room and watching TV trying to recover. The other time it was the other way round, I was coming fresh and he was hungover as hell. Or Tami and Josefa laughing of me coming back to the hostel at nine in the morning still slightly drunk repeating: oh what a great after it was. And probably the most funny was the question repeated so many times: 'Paluch when are you leaving?' And the answer always was: one more month and I'm gone! 'Or maybe one more year?' some were asking at the party, some still didn't believe I would leave. Eh Valpo, what it does with people! After the barbecue we went out dancing to El Playa and I came back home at... nine. What an after...

I had a goodbye gift for Aileen so I went to her place one evening. In La Valija I found a camping gear left by some guests and I thought that would be a great present for someone who wanted to travel. Aileen didn't have any stuff like that. She was happy to receive it, but in the same time tears started to run down her cheeks. I wanted to give her something that would motivate her, I believed she would find the strength in herself to overcome her fears and do what she wanted to do. It's easier to believe you can do something when others believe in you.

On my last shift in Barrio Paraíso Aileen popped in.
'Read it later,' she passed me a card with handwriting.
'I will!' I put it on the desk. I wanted her to stay for a cup of tea or coffee but she didn't want anything. After a few more words she gave me a big hug.
'I have to go, I'm working now. And if I stay any longer I will start crying again.' I looked deep into her big Mapuche eyes, they were wavering like in Japanese cartoons. Then she turned back and disappeared at the bottom of the stairs. I started to read the card: 'There are people who changed me, but no one as much as you...' My eyes were probably wavering as well.

In the morning I went to Barrio Paraíso to say goodbye to Francisco, Luisa and Cristina who was doing early shifts, then went for the last walk in Cerro Concepción and Cerro Alegre and came back to La Valija. My backpack was lying ready on the couch near the reception. Before the hug and the last photo I played the video prepared by Paula from Barrio Paraíso, which had a compilation of my pictures from Valpo and a familiar tune: La Joya del Pacifico. Faces of everyone were so sad. I was repeating: c'mon guys we'll see again, I'll be back one day, but soon Tami and Josefa started to cry, then Tami's daughter Kata and Rebecca. Only Gabriel was trying to animate the mood. After endless hugs I put my backpack on and started to walk down the Papudo Street still hearing the tune in my head and thinking: Hasta la próxima Valparaíso de mi amor!****

___
* Mapuche - group of indigenous peoples from central and southern Chile.
** Una Chilena y un loco Polaco - a Chilean girl and a crazy Pole.
*** Pisco - strong liquor made of grapes.
**** Hasta la próxima - till the next one.