The squiggle is (not) round

Dear future me,

It took a while to answer my own question: what’s next? Well, I mastered the art of keeping myself in the dark, so I just kept on going to enjoy my time with my preciouszzzz exploring the mountains of South Brasilia. As a Dutchie I got no idea when to call something a mountain or a hill, but as soon as it is cold on top and warmer in the valley, it is a mountain for me. The first one I encountered was Serra do Rio do Rastro. That really sounds Brazilian, doesn’t? The Brazilians in Brazil and outside Brazil do like that too, so I met a lot of them on the viewpoints that give you a wide panorama on the zigzag roads leading into the depths of the valley. They love it so much, that it was just crowded on another viewpoint that I visited a few days later called the lookout on the Rota do Sol. Maybe they think this is the only place where you can actually see the sun, but I saw it everywhere on my route through this gorgeous area of Brazil. Except of course when you need the sun to marvel on the colors of the deepest gorge of the country (apparently) in National Park Aparados da Serra. I had sun towards the gorge and on my way back, but on moment supreme it held a siesta behind the clouds. Lucky me! Although it probably helped not to succumb to the heat, as the sun has a lot of power here and wrecked my whole definition of what a mountain is. Anyway, the yellow god in the sky kept me company cruising through this part of Brazil where Italians and Germans left their marks in cute little villages that are crowded with home made tourists that have the money to visit these places. I spend hours and hours behind a lot of big cars, motorcycles and trucks over one lane small roads curving through hilly country with vineyards, Italian food, beautiful views on valleys and lakes.

It still felt like I was in the middle of my road trip through South-America, but there were signs on the walls that it wasn’t. My body has been letting me down the last month, which normally is a forebode for emotional discomfort ahead of me. To make it more significant, the weather gods thought it would be a good idea to literally build some dark clouds above my head to emphasize the coming adieu. By the time I reached the (tropical!) jungle of Foz do Iguaçu at the border of Brazil, the rain showered me with tears. A lot of them. And yes, Winter is Coming on this side of the equatorial, but that doesn’t mean the temperature has to drop to freezing point (for me that is at 10 degrees Celsius). Suddenly the whole leisure time of travelling around on a bike ended and got me into the saying farewell mode. In the rain I did manage to visit the second biggest dam in the world: the Itaipu Binacional. It connects Paraguay with Brazil and the big tubes and the overload slide are impressive to watch. To my surprise the tour was also in English and Spanish, two languages that most people in Brazil never heard of. Because these wonderful three weeks I spend in this country sometimes brought me back to pure sign language to make myself been understood. Since my whole surrounding by now colored deep grey and very wet, I decided no to go to see the water infrastructure that nature has built from this side. So I skipped the Iguazu waterfalls and visited the much more colored Bird Park next to it. Wow, this was the cherry on the cake, watching all kinds of tropical birds in their natural environment as this park truly embrace the idea that birds need space to fly and walk. However at the end, the picture didn’t quite feel right: where I was soaked and cold, I watched birds sitting comfortable underneath their umbrella’s looking at me with pity in their little eyes. Okay, time to go home.

Home at this point was Paraguay and to be more precise the home of Margot in Asuncion. The rain forced me not to spend some time dwelling in the south of Paraguay, but to move directly to the main capital. There I could not only warm up while the temperature was rising again, but also warm up from true Dutch, of should I say Twents, hospitality. Margot just got back from her zoepvacation in Holland (read: spending nice time with here friends) and took me out for a true Sunday Churrrasqueria experience. Here in Paraguay, people love to take their family and friends out to lunch at buffet restaurants where waiters come by with all kinds of meats on a spit. It is a real happening, even for me as a semi vegetarian. I did manage to say yes a few times and a big yes to the grilled pineapple. I loved this and realized that although Paraguay doesn’t have a distinct culture or landmark that make people want to visit Paraguay, I do feel happy to be here and spend my last days on this landlocked country. And it seems like the feeling is mutual as Paraguay is doing everything to keep me from going home. First, I was ordered to show up in court to explain the reasons why I wanted to leave the country again. As I speak Dutch and they speak Paraguayan, we didn’t get to a resolve. Thankfully Margot, who happened to be there as well to act as a witness in her own court case for the theft of her cows, managed to finally get her process started after 3 years of cancellation, postponing, bribing and some more postponing. Welcome to the vague and treacherous dealings of the Paraguay way of (not) legally dealing with daily life. I was glad I could witness the start of this trial and see Margot very happy to get it over with.

Side effect to this all was that Margot couldn’t get to her farm all this time and got to see up close what this Nennie is like when the end of her trip is near. Sad to have to sell the bike, happy that so far nobody wants to buy the bike. Happy to know family and friends await at home, sad to the prospect of ordinary life again. My mind was like a tornado, going round and round but staying still in one place. Should I keep my plate as a souvenir? Will the Kawasaki dealer buy my bike in the end? Finally, as a deadliner, I had to make decisions and they felt good. After a farewell tour on Saturday in the Cordillera east of Asuncion, I cleaned my bike and left it at the Kawasaki dealer. They will guard it and try to sell it for me in the next months. In the end, Paraguay surrendered and signed a permission to legally keep my bike on their grounds for a little bit longer and stamped an exit in my passport as I boarded my flight home. After 11 months my travels are over and my drawing of a mountain goat who is leaping from one mountain to another (just look at my map) is complete. The circle is round, but my squiggle is not. As it will never be, as long as my heart keeps longing for new adventures.

Is this my last blog? No, I will need some time to get back to earth again, work on my photos and videos to let everything sink in. After that it is time to reflect and I hope to hear from you, my dear future me, what lies ahead of me.

See ya later,

Annemieke