The Pesos Controversy

Even if you're back, you stored you backpack away, you pretend everything is ok, being back brings its share of problems. Some of them are really obvious.

The  "principal" problem until now is to change my cuban convertible pesos (CUC) and my argentinian pesos.

In fact, it seems like it's an impossible mission. I went to the only official currency exchange center in town. I was told that nobody would buy that money back because they are not supposed to leave the country where they were emitted. I was told they MUST buy them back at the airport of their respective countries.

About the cuban pesos, I was told that Canadians usually leave for Cuba and exchange their money at the airport when they get there. They do the same before they come back.

In my case, I tried right after I payed my exit tax of 25 CUC. In spite of the illuminated sign that gives the exchange rate for around ten currencies, the canadian dollar being one of them, they told me it was impossible to buy my CUC back.

I'm sorry. What? After having crossed the border, they said.

Same thing after crossing the border. The currency desk, which has no use from what I understood, refuses to exchange my money. What's the use of an exchange desk if they refuse to change the money?

Maybe I should have tried to get american dollars. But with the number of flights going to Toronto, it's inexplicable that they don't have canadian dollars.

Anyway, I advise you to get rid of your CUC as fast as possible before you leave Cuba. I, for one, an trying to sell them to people who intend to fly to Castro's country.

About the argentinian pesos, I found myself with too many of those after a guided tour I signed for was canceled. They gave me my money back a few hours before I left the country. So I couldn't spend it all. And I didn't think of changing them at the airport.

Again, when I got to Cuba, they refused to take my argentinian pesos. The same when I got to Toronto.

Again, I'm trying to sell those to some people who are planning on leaving for Argentina... Traveling friends are my only hope to get some of my  money back.

Services

To conclude, in the "problems" category, I realized that getting the phone, cell phone, cable, internet services back is not that easy. Even more after six months. Not only did I phone to remind everybody that they promised me I could get all the services back without having anything to do (had to call up to five times in a precise case), but I needed to fight to get a discount for the service I didn't get.

For example, I spent 52 minutes on the phone before they transfered me to the satisfaction department, before they finally agreed on giving me some money back.

After a long trip, if you haven't canceled all your services, plan on losing a lot of time on the phone while they tell you that your phone call is "important for them".

A Round-the-world trip in numbers

About ten days after coming back home, I thought statistic fans would like to put some numbers on the experience I lived.

First, including the day I left and the one I got back, the trip will have lasted six months, or 183 days.

Chance was on my side, since I estimate the number of days lost because of the rain to three. Clouds broke more often, especially since I was in south-east Asia during the rain season, but it never stopped me from visiting. Chance being on my side, bad weather usually appeared while I was traveling from a city to another one. Sun or not, it wouldn't change anything.

The only time I saw snow was on top of mount Tangariro, in New Zealand, but it was in the southern hemisphere summer.

I crossed the border of 20 countries (USA, New Zealand, Australia, Hong Kong, Macao, China, Japan, Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand, Jordan, Greece, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, Finland, Portugal, Brazil, Argentina and Cuba), excluding Canada, to reach the objective I set at first. That means taking 28 different planes, which brought me in five more countries (Fidji, Taiwan, Egypt, Czeck Republik and Panama) where I only got down of the plane for a transfer. I will have needed seven visas to be allowed in the same amount of countries.

I had to cross two countries from my list (Uruguay and Paraguay) because of some unforseen events, deleted three more (Sweden, Denmark and The Netherlands) because I ran out of time, but got in two I didn't expect to visit (Greece and Cuba).

I estimate to 72 the number of cities I stopped in, slept in 58 hostel/hotels, most in nice enough conditions, and took more than 16 500 pictures. I learned and spoke few words in at least seven languages. But don't ask me to remember them all. I used 16 different currencies and I probably have some coins left from most of them.

My Facebook account has about 115 new friends. It seems impossible to keep in touch with all of them, but I wish the links I built stay as strong as possible. And there are those who don't have a Facebook account.

I will have gone all the way with only one pair of shoes and a pair of flip flops. But I used six pairs of sunglasses and four pairs of headphones for my iPod.

In the same order of business, I broke two cameras, the third one, which I bought after a lot of efforts, survived by the skin of its teeth (!). I also learned to use carefully my second razor, trying not to break it, after I killed the first one. I bought a good old hand razor to make sure I wouldn't have problem with the 220 V power.

My luggages got lost once, but ended up coming back to me.

I visited two hospitals, took at least six different kinds of medicine, and have been traveling on three different animals (horse, camel and elephant).

I rented a car, a motorcycle and an ATV, driving on the wrong side once with the car and having broken breaks on the ATV.

I missed home once, thought about restaurants from home between five and ten times, lost about 10 kilos, celebrated a birthday and got nostalgic for at least a whole week toward the end.

I took 31 trains, 7 of them at night, at least 8 boats and an incalculable number of buses and metros.

I published 12 articles about my trip in the local newspaper.

Clothes wise, I kept everything I brought from the start but I was forced to buy two pairs of shorts, a t-shirt and some underwears. Thanks lost luggages.

I published at least a hundred posts on this blog, wrote more than 230 pages on my computer in a very short summary of my trip. 

About the amount of kilometres I traveled, I have no idea. Same for the money spent. I estimate I must have spent at least 20 000 $. But the experience was worth any amount of money. And what I take out of it will stay for me longer than anything I could have bought.

Back in the 60's

Habana

It was the last destination of my trip. Travelers who I asked about my dilemma between Cuba and Puerto Rico all said I should go with Cuba.

True that I felt like I was in another world when I landed on the island. Cuba, its summer heath, was so different from the cold in Buenos Aires.

As soon as I got out of the plane, they asked for my visitor's card and they sent me to security without asking questions.

For security, it seems the country you're from is more important than the luggage scan. When I said I was from Canada, they chose not to open my bag.

Same for another control, where a threatening woman, sitting on a small chair in the middle of the room, asked where I was from. Canada was the magic word.

I waited forever for my bag, but it finally came. I said Canada a third time to get out without any problem.

Before calling for a cab, because it is not too tempting to take public transportation in Cuba, I changed all my euros and part of my american dollars in cuban convertible pesos. Because they refused to change my argentinian pesos. And I wasn't sure I could find some ATMs.

For people like me, note cuban convertible pesos (CCU) is for tourists, with an exchange rate of one for one american dollar. After, you can exchange CCU for national money (1 CCU = 24 pesos in national money). So we need to make sure the change we get is in the correct currency.

I was told a taxi from the airport would always cost 25 CCU. What you discover afterwards is it is possible to negociate. When I left the island, for the same trajectory, I paid 20 CCU.

Anyway, like I said, I felt like I was in another world. From the backseat of my taxi, I felt like I was filming an episode of Pan Am. The roads looked like they were  made at another time and they are not well maintained. Houses and buildings, half built, are frozen in time, like all those cars which probably only have the body from the past. And there is all those people, waiting for a bus where it doesn't seem like there is a bus stop.

For the first day, I couldn't miss the Capitol, some colorful little houses, those people who literally live in their doorway, sitting on the side of the road.

I went to an official cigar store... and the appartement of a stranger who sells cigars, real or fake, with a discount.

I went through an endless rain, supposedly rare... and the beggining of a cold which I started to fear considering I needed to take a plane a couple of days later.

In Cuba, I found great people. People who always have a father, a cousin or a brother living in Toronto. They ask for our name and offer to share a coffee, a beer, to find a woman who does bang-bang. Sometimes, it feels like Thailand...

Having a clear deadline, I didn't want to exagerate. I walked Habana from the old town to the Revolution place. I visited the Necropolis, a cimetery, and the Cuban Arts Museum. I can't forget the fortifications on the other side of the bay, where I was told how they work in the control tower.

"If it's a Canadian boat, we say welcome. If it's a French boat, we say welcome. If it's an American boat, we get the canons and we say boom!" 

At least, that is clear. 

Chance being on my side, I could see the last day of Habana carnival.

Six months are gone

It's done. For six months, I ate, slept, explored outside of Canada. The assessment of this sixth mont is really personnal because I knew it was the last stretch.

The sixth month, it's starting to come back in our head. It's preparing to avoid going crazy at the airport. It's stopping the screensaver, too, because we know there is no more tickets to buy and there are only a few cities to visit.

The sixth month, it's having a deadline. Feeling flexibilty slipping through our fingers because that 15th of August, we must be on a plane leaving Habana. No choice! 

At least, after all that time on the road, it is getting accustomed to any unforseen event. We can't call them all "unforseen"... because we stop planning. We live. That's all.

In those last weeks, I went back in holiday mode, knowing the mess in my luggage didn't matter anymore. Knowing that after August 15th, there was no other destination on my list. Nothing to get excited or to look forward to like in the past five months.

After all that time, I reached a state where I can accept goodbyes, leaving sad people without being over-depressed myself. Towards the end, the nostalgia came back, forced a last look behind before boarding that last plane.

I had to realize the wheel keeps on turning. When time comes to make an assessment, we meet people who just jumped in space, leaving for six months themselves, while they are excited about those first days on the road. We can see in them our naivety, six months earlier, in a hostel in San Diego. We feel like we need to pass the torch.

It also took six months to meet someone who would judge me. Someone who would insist to say six months are too short for what I wanted to accomplish. To say I've seen nothing, lived nothing, and that I can't pretend I've seen the world if I only spent a couple of weeks in each country. Like if there was a minimum time to live, feel other cultures. That "man" didn't make a lot of friends around the table we were eating at. Still, irony of fate happened three days before the end... And for those who are wondering : he was from Paris.

Here are the cities I visited in the last month :

Portugal Lagos, Lisbon
Brazil  Stopover in Recife, Rio de Janeiro, Paraty, Sao Paulo, Foz do Iguaçu
Argentina Puerto de Iguazu, Buenos Aires
Cuba Habana

Welcome in Canada

Done! Six months later, I came back in my own time zone, back on canadian ground.

Don't be mistaken, it is not the end of my blog. I still have some time to catch up. So stay tuned.

Here is how it went to come back home.

My flight was leaving at 9:20 from Habana, Cuba, for Toronto, where I would take one last plane before getting home. Without any access to the internet to choose my seat and not knowing if the plane was big or not, I decided to get to the airpot two hours and a half before take off.

I got in a taxi at 6:30 thinking I would eat breakfast while waiting for the plane.

Habana Airport : you need to pay a 25 CCU tax before going through immigration.

After, I tried to get rid of my cuban and argentinian pesos, but the change office refused.

Once in the international zone, I tried to find something to eat. Surprise! No real food even if there are some stands (closed). Plan B : a granola bar bought at the tax free store.

Thanks to the entertainment system which was working, unlike the one in TAP planes, I could watch Hunger Games before landing in Toronto.

There, I had to cross the border. The good news : I wouldn't have to wait for immigration in Montreal. For a strange reason, Canada is one of the only countries where I needed to recuperate my luggage at the stopover to check them in again. At least, they have no excuse to lose our stuff. We are doing all the work.

Since I was on a stopover, I could jump the line and meet the border patrol fast.

« Wow, you've been everywhere! » he says while looking at the stamps in my passport.

« How long have you been gone? »

« Six months!»

« You went to get some experience? »

Well, listen man. One, you're probably younger than me. So for the experience, we'll talk about it when your hair turns grey. And two, thanks for the conversation, but the question "tourism or work?" would have saved us a lot of time.

Being very honest, I checked the box on my declaration to say that I sent some stuff from oversea. Because I couldn't bring everything back in my luggage.

What do I get for my honesty? Lots of drawings on my declaration. And a woman a little too nice saying : use that line please. We have some more questions for you.

Don't know why, that nice tone sounded like the dentist saying "it won't hurt". We don't really believe it.

Of course, I waited on a small chair to have some back pain while I watched them search through the bags of mostly people of colour. Don't call me a racist. I'm not the one who have sent them there.

I was telling myself I had so much trouble closing my bag it wouldn't be nice to open it... I was seeing myself trying to close it back, with the duct tape supposed to hold it all in place breaking under pressure.

And it took a long time. Everybody was going in front of me. Until I lost patience. "I have another flight to catch, Mister."

"We're trying to find the man responsible be we can't find him", the man says.

"But if you miss your flight, we'll put you on the next one..."

"What? No! I have people waiting for me in Montreal. I don't want to waste my time waiting in Toronto for three or four hours while the patrol is taking a break to eat." (I might have change that quotation.)

"We're doing what we can!"

In my head, "what we can" is a way of saying "blah! blah! blah! We don't care about your plane..."

In the end, all they wanted was for me to fill a form to say what was in the packages I sent home before coming back. But it was too difficult to give it to me so I could fill it while I was waiting. Of course it was. I needed to watch the patrol fill the form in front of me while I was spelling the words in french for him.

I might look angry, but know I didn't miss my connection.

After throwing myself on food like a hungry seagull, I took my last flight. The one in which me ears hurt so much I thought my eardrums would explode. Intense pain (thanks to my cold which ALWAYS appears before I take a place). When we landed, I was sweating trying to fight the pain. 24 hours later, I still feel it.

The strangest is, while I was expecting loads of emotions before leaving, I felt nothing at all when we landed. Emptiness. Resignation. A defense mechanism probably, as if the last six months never existed. The brain is strong when it doesn't want to accept a situation.

The best thing is, after that, I had a nice conversation with my favorite godson.

Very calm, in his car seat, he talked to me.

« Godfather? »

« What? »

« I love you! »

It makes at least one good reason to accept to be back...

Last stretch

Here I am, in the last strech of this trip of a lifetime. In a few hours, I'll fly to Habana, Cuba, for four days.

Putting rosaries on the clothesline, we make the sun dance, and we blow wind against possible hurricanes appearing in the Atlantic. Four days with good weather, or no hurricane, is all I ask for.

To take no chances, I found a book in english (it's not easy to find in Buenos Aires). I was told I wouldn't be able to count on my computer to keep me busy there since technology is slow on the island.

So I spent six days in Argentina's capital. Other than my problem with the coins, I could reunite with Kelly, an Australian I met in Vietnam. Thanks to Facebook, I knew she would be around and we could arrange our schedules to meet.

Like anticipated, for a strange reason, the link between travelers gets strong fast and it doesn't need a lot of work to remain intact. So I was under the impression I reunited with a friend I had known forever. Again, the world, it gets smaller when you explore it.

Two days later, I reunited with Martin, a friend I met in Jordan. Same feeling.

One cannot say Buenos Airest has a lot of attractions. But I must say I didn't get a lot of information about it. I just wanted to feel the european atmosphere, the colors in La Boca, the modern side of Palermo.

I was hoping to add the 20th of 21 countries on my list, but it seemed I needed a last obstacle before flying home.

On that last day in South America, I expected to discover Colonia Del Sacramento, a small town in Uruguay, one hour away from Buenos Aires. I needed to make sure I would come back on time for my shuttle to the airport.

It seems like Colonia Express, the company with which I tried to book, is the TAP Airlines of the ferries. Problems with the bookings, no hablo engles, and no as an answer to my attempts to find a solution.

Angry, because it wasn't possible for me to take the tour another day, I walked from the port to the hostel, something like 45 minutes, to calm down. Especially after having paid a taxi to get to the port.

Good news is my hostel, which was my "travel agent", not only refounded the trip but offered me a free dinner.

So hang on friends. I'll be back home in five days.

Setting things straight

Okay! We'll set things straight. Because some problems happen everywhere in the world and they seem too complicated to be fixed. I decided to say "It's enough!"

It's enough closing the information desks on Sundays. It's nice to have a day to rest, but travelers don't disappear on Sunday. For an unknown reason, it's always on that day we have questions. Must be possible to find someone somewhere who is willing to work on Sunday.

It's enough asking if I have change. If I give you a note of 100 pesos, it is because the ATM gave me notes of 100 pesos and I need to break them. You have a business. YOU should have some change. And yes, you insult me if I give you a note of 10 pesos and you still ask if I have smaller notes.

In the same matter of business, why, oh why are the coins so rare in Argentina? Everybody is searching for them to pay for the bus. But apparently, nobody has coins. Must be some coins somewhere. Instead of giving you some, the taxi drivers will ask you to give them enough money so they can give you change in notes. We must be direct and say no. That way, they need to give coins.

It seems it is too complicated to pay with notes in the buses... or to make more coins.

Okay, and after a few minutes, you can stop laughing at my accent while I'm trying to speak your language. Try to recognize I'm making an effort. I'll be happy to laugh with you, but I don't always have some time to lose.

18 hours on the bus

Like most tourists visiting Argentina while running out of time, I had no choice but to take the bus between Puerto de Iguazu and Buenos Aires, a beautiful adventure of 18 hours.

To find the appropriate bus, I used the website www.plataforma10.net. I was suprised to learn there is  a bus every 15 minutes to Buenos Aires.

The only problem I saw was I needed to leave from the argentinian side, while I was staying on the Brazilian side. That meant I had to leave my hostel at least two hours ahead of time to cross the border without problems.











I chose the company Crucero del Norte, which offered reclinable seats to sleep, with movies and food too.

I admit I was a little scared to spend 18 hours on a bus. But considering the comfort of the seats and the time of departure, it wasn't that bad.

We were served an aperitif and candies to wait for the dinner. After, they showed a really bad comedy in spanish and american movies with spanish subtitles.

Of course, the sleep helped pass the time. But one needs to have warm clothes. Because the air con is really cold.

The next day, we got a breakfast and another american movie dubbed in spanish.

Astonishing fact, even if the road was all in Argentina, we stopped often for security controls for which military men got on board to check the bags and look at the passengers.

For one of those controls, I played stupide like a guy who doesn't understand spanish. Everybody had to stand up and open their bags.

In the end, I arrived in Retiro Station, in Buenos Aires, where I needed to be creative to find my way to my hostel. The directions I got were telling me to take the metro. But guess what... the metro was on strike. Still have to understand that in spanish. Fortunately, I could catch a cab with a honest driver who dropped me at my hostel. Because in Buenos Aires, one must be careful about the taxi drivers.

Two Falls, two countries, two days

I admit it, I lied in the title. A tad. Because there are more than two falls.

I took my 40 $ flight from Sao Paulo to Foz do Iguaçu, on Webjet, a good and cheaper decision.

What is the best way to know we're flying with a low cost company?

When the boarding pass is nothing more than a simple paper bill.

When you walk from the boarding gate to the plane door, on the tarmac, with minimum control.

When the stairs to board the plane are moved by the airport employees pushing them with their own arms.

At least, the flight looked secure. Flying over the border of Brazil, Argentina and Paraguay offered a great view : forest, river and the famous Iguazu Falls.

The city itself is pretty calm. Nothing to do if not in the national park where the falls are. So it was my first stop.

It was my first encounter with coatis, some sorts of south-american raccoons. They are everywhere, and they won't hesitate to go through your backpack if you put it on the ground. But you gotta be careful for bites and claws. 

The falls themselves offer a 2,5 km panorama of water falling from a cliff. On the Brazilian side, it is possible to get into the Devil's Throat, a walkway at the bottom of the falls which guarantees you're gonna get wet... Unless you bought one of those ridiculous and expansive ponchos. Which I didn't do. But the sun, in the brazilian winter, will dry it all very fast.

Outside of the national park, I went to the Bird Reserve. Hundreds of birds are kept in cages for the visitors to enjoy. Since I don't really like zoos, I can't say I liked it. In there, we can meet people with no common sense of respect.

Only thing I liked : the possibility to see a toucan from up close.

On the second day, I decided to follow the other guests from the hostel to get on the argentinian side of the falls and to come back on the same evening.

For that, we needed to catch a first bus which would leave us at the border with a transfer ticket in hand. There, we got a stamp on our passport. From there, we had to wait for 30 minutes for the next bus from the same company. And stop at the argentinian border. We needed to change some reais in argentinian pesos to pay for the entrance fees at the falls.

After, we get in another bus, or the same one if we're lucky, or we take a taxi. And you do that all over again to come back.

I prefered the argentinian side, even if the entrance fees (130 pesos, or 40 $) are higher. We can get closer to the top of the falls and board a boat which gets us totally wet.

Paraguay

From Foz de Iguaçu, it is possible to spend one day in Paraguay, in Cidade del Este. I was told it is not necessary to show a passport to cross the border. Paraguay is supposed to be the China of South America : a place to get cheap electronics.

A traveler in my hostel spent half a day there and got intercepted trying to come back to Brazil. Since she didn't get a stamp while leaving Brazil, she couldn't come back in. She got out of Paraguay after a few hours with the authorities. 

To avoid problems, I gave up on the idea of crossing the border there. I will have to go back to Paraguay in a more official way. I also gave up on the idea of visiting Itaipu Dam... not enough time.