Kids Are The Same Everywhere - ITAIPU Binacional Hydro-Electric Plant - 23 April 2018

 23 April 2018 – I woke up this morning and quickly wrote a postcard to a former co-worker of mine, Frank. I worked with him for 7 years and considered him a good friend. I wanted to surprise him with a postcard from Brazil. Anyway, once I finished it, I was off to the post office to mail it. It didn’t take me to long because I knew where I was going, unlike the other day. Now we get to the scary part. I walk into the lobby and of course everything is in Portuguese. They have this kiosk which you have to select from 3 buttons the type of help you require. Well………..I can’t read any of it so, I just pick one and hope for the best. Your ticket tells you which window to go to but you have to wait your turn by sitting in the waiting area and watching the monitor. There are no lines in front of the window. When the individual who is being helped is finished, they push a button for the next number to come forward. If you miss seeing your number, you're passed over and the next number / person goes forward. Well, I didn’t miss my number and went to the window. The postal person looked at me and said something. I didn’t understand a word. Then I got the look like “Oh no, I don’t need this trouble / crap today.” When she found out all I needed was a stamp she became a little more friendly. She understood I wanted to send the postcard to the United States, put on the correct postage and pitched it to the correct holding bin. When I say pitched, I mean she turned about 90 degrees in her chair and just flicked it like a frisbee. Kind of like when you're dealing cards. The bin was 6 – 7 Feet / 1.5 – 2.25 Meters away. I said to myself, god I hope that doesn’t get lost and makes it way to the United States (USA). 

I hiked it back the way I came and stopped at the soft ice cream vendor. I purchased a vanilla / chocolate ice cream cone again and sat outside on one of the blue tiled square concrete blocks. You kind of had to hurry to when you ate it because the heat of the day would cause it to melt and cause a mess. You were only given a single thin napkin to wipe up any mess. I was not the only person eating an ice cream cone. A young father and his 4-year-old son were sitting on the next blue concrete block over from me. These concrete blocks were 4 Feet / 1.25 Meters square and about 18 Inches / 45 Centimeters tall. They had finished their cone and were resting. The 4 year old son decided to jump off the block down to the sidewalk and was having a great time doing it. He had a few near misses where he almost bumped his knees. His father had warned him he was going to get hurt. That did not deter him. He also had an audience that was all smiles as he was performing his antics. The more they smiled the braver he got and then the big crash. He must have turned his ankle or skinned one of his knees and was crying. The father wasn’t exactly giving him the attention he wanted. A well-meaning stranger offered to console the young lad and the volume went up. She gave up as the child was not quieting down but getting louder. Another well-meaning person offered to console and the volume hit a new fever pitch. He was beet red from the screaming. The lad was near a melt down and a larger crowd was gathering. All the well-meaning people were whispering how sad, to see the young lad screaming with such intensity. The father, being annoyed with the son’s antics, called grandma who arrived on the scene in minutes. She got out of the car with a small baby blanket and wrapped it around him. In one fell swoop she grabbed and whisked him off to the car. From her arriving on scene to their departure was less than a minute. I left the area when grandma sped away.

I continued on to the hotel and started preparations to leave tomorrow. I needed to decided my route to Telemaco Borba. That will require me to search out this route on my computer. I wish I had a map that would show the different routes I could take instead of looking them up on the computer. Route planning is much easier when I can do that. Well anyway, I’ll get on Google Map and start my search. I decided to make my trip in two days and stick to the major highways. Sometimes in leaving a city where I have stopped and rested for a few days I’m slow to get motivated and usually have a late start. So, the first night I will stop in Laranjeiras do Sul and second night I will stop in Imbau. I can get my route numbers and cities written on my gas tank's masking tape. I also can get my Gps / Blanche programmed. I also need to know my route out of this city. With all of the above pretty much completed I got myself ready for the taxi ride out to the Itaipu Binacional hydro-electric power plant.

I needed money to pay to get in, cell phone, camera and my motorcycle riding boots. You can’t go on the tour into the plant with open toe or tennis shoes. I went downstairs and told the front desk I will be waiting in the lobby for the taxi cab driver which they acknowledged. They also asked if I had the correct shoes on to get into the plant. I drank a Coke while I waited and right at 3:00 p.m. the taxi cab driver walked in the front door of the hotel. The front desk called me over and we settled how I was going to pay for the taxi fare. The taxi cab driver also checked to see if I had on the correct shoes to go into the hydro-electric power plant. I checked out ok and we were off.

On the way to the power plant the driver attempted to speak with me. I couldn’t understand a word. When we arrived, he made a strong point with his watch that he was leaving and would be back to pick me up at 7:00 p.m. sharp. He then directed me to the ticket office and then reminded me again that at 7:00 p.m. he would be back. I assured him I would be waiting. I purchased a ticket for a plant tour which included an English speaking tour guide. That was helpful and nice. I was off to the waiting room where people congregated before the video was shown.   

It demonstrated and showed how the hydro-electric plant was built. The room had a cutaway of how the water flowed through the turbine and various pictures taken during construction. Most of the pictures were sequential showing the start of the project, earth moving, pouring of the concrete, the 1st turbine and generator installed and an aerial photo of the completed plant. The video was also in English. We English speaking people were the last tour of the day. 

In the video it said ITAIPU Binacional Hydro-Electric Plant was the largest in the world. As of 2012 the Three Gorges Dam in China took over the #1 spot of the largest hydro-electric plant replacing the ITAIPU Binacional now in 2nd place. Anyway, you look at it……..it’s an impressive place. Here’s a little more info about the ITAIPU Binacional. The ITAIPU name comes from Guarani language and means “The Sounding Stone”. It’s constructed on the Parana River located on the border between Brazil and Paraguay. ITAIPU Binacional is owned by Brazil and Paraguay. Each country receives 50% of the electricity produced from it's 20 generator units. The daily flow of water for two turbines / generators is roughly equivalent to the daily average flow of water over the Iguacu Falls. That’s the same falls I toured yesterday. That’s an impressive amount of water passing through those 20 turbines / generators daily. When the video was over, we were direct out to the tour bus. But before we can get on we must be checked for weapons. Guess what? I had my Swiss Army knife with me and security found it. Immediately they said I had a switch blade and it had to be confiscated. My blood just boiled. After the ruckus settled down, they said they would hold it till the tour was over and then I could reclaim it. I didn’t say anymore and got on the bus. Had they truly kept my knife I would have left the tour and asked for my knife back. There was no joy here. 

We did tour the hydro-electric plant. It’s huge, and I mean huge. The concrete in the whole plant had a low-level vibration in it and you could hear a slight sound of rushing water. We toured past the control room where they monitor the rpm’s / revolutions per minutes of each generator. The rpm’s must be maintained otherwise the 50 Hz / 60 Hz (Cycles per Second) will vary affecting the operation of electric clocks, electric motors and all other sorts of other electrical devices. Clocks will slow down or speed up and electric motors will speed up or slow down. This will also affect their output power. I’m sure that it’s only one of many things that is monitored in there. In the hallway outside the control room was a yellow line and it divided the hallway. It’s the International Border between Paraguay and Brazil. On one side you’re standing in Paraguay and the other you’re in Brazil. I took a picture of my feet one on each side of the line.  

  From there we took the elevator down to one of the generators / turbines. We could see the spinning shaft between the turbine and generator. I would say the shaft was 1 Yard / 1 Meter in diameter. I steadied myself and looked at the spinning shaft to see if there was any visible run out in it. I didn’t see any and the finish on this shaft indicated somebody had their feeds and speeds (machining terms) correct when the shaft was turned. I asked the tour guide who did the machining work for the power plant and he said the Germans did. I would guess not all the machining was done outside the country, just the work that required large industrial lathes, milling machines and grinders. I just had a feeling Brazil didn’t have this equipment or capability. I think someone asked how often the bearings were changed in the turbines and generators. I think the reply was something like X amount of 1000’s of hours of operation. There are 8766 hours in a year. They keep two generators shut down and ready to operate when maintenance is preformed on any of the 18 other generators or turbines. I’m sure the control room keeps track of this and schedules regular maintenance. A German lady asked a real good technical question about the maintenance of the turbines, generators or something. I can’t remember what the questions was, but I said to myself I got to find out what she does for a living. 

If you look at the large red circles on the floor in the pictures, underneath each of these red circles is a turbine and generator. If maintenance is required on a turbine or generator a hoist is position over the top of the opening and can lift out the generator, turbine or both. The tour continued on to the outside of the plant. I had an opportunity to talk with the German lady (Michaela). She said she was a surveyor and didn’t go into any details at the time we spoke. When we walked outside, I had my picture taken under the sign of ITAIPU Binacional. It looks pretty good.   We could take more pictures of anything outside on the backside of the dam. You can see the water pipes that feed the turbines of the power plant. They're huge.  

 We got back on the bus again and we toured around the spillways and back waters of the dam. This whole dam operation employs over 3000+ people. I know if I was looking for a job, I would want a job working in that hydro-electric plant. It’s clean and I’m sure it provides a steady income. While touring around with the bus I had another opportunity to speak with Michaela. This time she told me, she works as a surveyor in some capacity on the Brenner Base Tunnel. This tunnel is to reduce heavy-load traffic (i.e. truck traffic) off the roads going over the mountains to rail traffic going through the mountains. It will be constructed between Innsbruck, Austria and Fortezza, Italy. It will become the second longest tunnel in the world with a planned length of 35 Miles / 56 Kilometers. We eventually returned to the tourist center and one of the tourist people came running over to give my Swiss Army Knife back. I thanked her for the return of it. I’m glad they remembered.

I asked Michaela if I could take her picture. She said yes. I took her picture by the sign which says, “Amaior Usina do Mundo” / “World’s Largest Power Plant”. She was one of the first English speaking people I talked to since I left Ushuaia, Argentina. She also had been traveling in Argentina and Brazil. We were laughing about some of the experiences we encountered in our travels. We were mostly laughing about our language problems and you really can’t understand it till it happens to you. Anyway, I saw the taxi cab arrive. We talked a few more moments, shook hands and I was off to my taxi. It was nice to speak to someone in English. 

 

 

I arrived back at the hotel and set about getting myself ready to leave the hotel tomorrow. I checked over my motorcycle and loaded up anything I could put in my boxes. I then hiked over to the convenience store where I bought water, apples, and candy bars. I needed to resupply my water for my trip tomorrow. While in the store, the store keeper's son was there. When he found out I was from the United States (USA) he started speaking English to me. His English was American English not the Queen's English (England). I asked him where he learned to speak English. He said, his father and he were Lebanese and that he learned English from the American G.I.’s that had a base near his home. They immigrated to Brazil in the not too distant past. We were talking and they wanted to know where I lived in the United States. I took out my United States map and showed them. Then I showed them a picture of the house I lived in. I showed his father first and then the son. Guess what the first words out of the father’s mouth was? You have no fence around your house! People can break into it and steal your property! All through Mexico, Central and South America, if you own a nice home you have a brick wall / fence with concertina wire and broken glass on the top of it to keep the bad guys out. Some people even have live electrical wires running through the concertina wire. He assumed all houses and businesses must have security walls, but that was not the case in the United States (USA). I left there with my water and went back to the hotel to finish packing for tomorrow's departure. I also notified my friends in Telemaco Borba that I was departing Foz do Iguacu.

Here are some pictures from my hotel room. 

 

Fantastic Falls, Iguacu National Park, Brazil - 22 April 2018

22 April 2018 – God how I hate getting up early. It’s time to get mobilized. I got my walking clothes on, water, camera and cell phone and headed to the lobby. I got my wrist band and was herded to the shuttle bus. It made a few more stops before we departed for the park. One thing I noticed was that none of the passengers commented on how rough the roads were and how fast the guy was driving on these roads. I know in the United States the passengers would have been making a ruckus about how they were being bounced around in their seats. These 50 and 60 year old women took it in stride not blinking an eye. 

We were dropped off at the main gate of the Iguacu National Park / Parque Nacional do Iguacu and
loaded on to yellow Volvo buses.  These buses transported us to a start location / trail head that you could walk to a point where you could see all the different falls. It was located near a pink tourist hotel in the Park/ Parque.  Some of the falls were small and others very large.  There were many different phot stops where you could take man different pictures of the falls.  It was nothing short of beautiful.

At the beginning of the walk they had all kinds of signs with pictures not to feed the 

animals but that didn’t stop the people from feeding the critters. 

Those ring-tailed critters were into 

everything. If you had gum or crackers in your purse they were into your purse. They had a really good nose on them. When you look at the pictures you will see how mischievous they are. They actually are nothing short of pains in the ass.  

 When you reached mid-point along the trail there was a small fast food eatery / restaurante. I decided to stop for a break and bought a bottle of water. Those ring tail critters infested the whole eatery / restaurante. Every morsel of food that touched the floor was theirs. It took one employee with a stick in one hand and a broom handle with a soda can on the end in the other to drive off the critters. They would drag the pop can on the concrete which would scare off the critters. You couldn’t keep ahead of them. The employees were actually fed up with them. They were into everything. While I sat and watched the show, the butterflies would keep landing on me. I had three or four of them at a time landing on me. I must have tasted better than most people.

 

 

 Eventually, the entertainment went away and I moved on to the big water falls. I believe it’s called The Devil’s Throat Gazebo / Mirante da Garganta do Diablo. I walked up to near the falls and then saw there was a walkway where you could get into the mist created by the falls. I hiked down there with the masses of the other people and had my picture taken there. I was glad I took the pictures but didn't care for the mist on my camera and cell phone lens. Along with my tour package came a lunch. I struggled to find the restaurant, but eventually did. It was a buffet with all kinds of food for one hungry gringo. I ate my fill and then shopped all the tourist shops. I bought an Ink pen for Mary and a postcard of the water falls for Frank. I went from there back to the gathering spot for the bus. I suppose we waited an hour for the shuttle bus by the park’s main gate and eventually were returned to the hotel.

Once back, there was one more arrangement I needed to make. I wanted to tour ITAIPU Binacional Hydro-Electric Plant. I can ride my motorcycle out there or take a taxi. So, I set up a taxi. It would arrive at 3:00 p.m. and I must wear closed toed shoes. No tennis shoes. The tour would start at 4:00 p.m. I would be taking the English-speaking tour. I decided I would walk down to the small convenience store and by some apples, water and bread. The older guy in there realized I was American and tried to encourage me to buy more of everything. He was always disappointed when I purchased only a few items. I then hiked it over to the ice cream cone store and bought myself one. I ate it at the store in their outside sit down area and watched as the people walked by. The street was lined with trees which were in bloom and the whole picture / scene was quite beautiful. When I finished, I went back to the hotel and called it a day.

Exploring the City, Foz Do Iguacu, Brazil - 21 April 2018

21 April 2018 – I was in no rush to do anything today but knew I had to get out and find some (Money) Brazilian Real and see if I can find the Post Office. This hotel had three elevators. One of the elevators was attached to the outside of the hotel. You had a full view of the city skyline, houses and shops around the hotel. It was nothing new but could take your breath away as you ascended or descended from the top floors. I went downstairs to the lobby to ask the front desk if they had tourist map of the city or downtown area. I also needed to ask for directions to an ATM and the location of the Post Office. They graciously provided all three. I got my walking clothes on, water, shoes on and took off. Before I lost sight of the hotel, I made sure my map and the streets were in agreement. I did not want to get lost. My calf muscles were still sore from the walk I took to the 3 countries corner monument when I was in Argentina. Anyway, a good walk would probably strength them up.

It seemed like I walked about a Mile / 1.6 Kilometers by the time I reached the Post Office corner. I walked the sidewalk back and forth looking for the Post Office before I realized I was standing in front of it. It wasn’t well marked. Then I had to find the door…….what looked like a service door was actually the entrance. I couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t get in because I was on time to get in. After standing there looking dumb……I looked at the open hours. Open five separate days M-T-W-T-F and closed on Saturday and Sunday. I checked my watch, shit it was Sunday. So, I’m a dork and everybody who looked at me knew it. Who keeps track of the days? Well, let see if I can find an ATM. I back tracked to the ATM street marked on the map. I found the first ATM and my card wouldn’t work. The second ATM was locked and I couldn’t get in without some type of password. The third one took a little hunting and was in a bank. The bank was not well marked but I found it and was able to get in. It had a bank of 8 ATM’s. I tried my card while holding my breath it would work. It worked and I was able to get enough Brazilian Real to last me a week.

I walked back to the hotel and when I passed a soft ice cream vendor I bought a chocolate and vanilla swirl ice cream cone. I made a mental note not to forget where to find him. I also passed a pizza joint which I may return to at a later date. I’m still on track to get back to the hotel. I took a slightly different route back because my map and streets were agreeing with each other. I also wanted to do some downtown sightseeing. When I get back to the hotel, I need to make arrangements and purchase tickets to tour the Iguacu National Park / Parque Nacional do Iguacu tomorrow. The big attraction is Iguazu Waterfalls / Cataratas del Iguazu. This is a huge tourist attraction and many foreign dignitaries visit it during their stay in Brazil. My calf muscles are still killing me. I’m not walking very fast. Anyway, I’m back at the hotel. I give my motorcycle the 50 cent look over and I see a drip of red oil near the front tire. It looks like one of my front fork seals are leaking. It’s about the size of a pencil eraser. I will have to keep and eye on it. I purchased the tickets to tour the Iguacu National Park / Parque Nacional do Iguacu. I had some problems with language but stumbled through ok. The tour agency made a real big point that I be in the lobby by 8:00 a.m. to be picked up by the shuttle bus and that I needed to get a wrist band. So, tomorrow I must get out of bed early.

Crossing From Argentina into Brazil - 20 April 2018

Remember my 2017-2018 trip from Minnesota, USA to the tip of South America and back?  I am now able to tell you the rest of the story.  Enjoy....

20 April 2018 – I was up early this morning because I wanted to eat the free breakfast at the hostel. I rose so early that the breakfast wasn't prepared yet. So I gathered all my stuff together, got my paper work in order for crossing the border, and started to load my motorcycle. This will be the last country in South America I will be crossing into. If everything works out, I will fly out and ship my motorcycle back to the United States from Brazil. Well that’s the plan anyway. I see the hotel staff milling around the breakfast area meaning preparations are complete and you can come and eat. I hurried in and picked through their toast, fried eggs, fruit and dry cereal etc. I usually eat two or three serving of dry cereal. Kind of trying to fill myself up. I finished up there, made sure everything was out of my room, returned my key, got my coat on, got my GPS on the right route and said good-bye to the hostel employee. He loved the thought of traveling by motorcycle. 

The entrance into the hostel is blocked with two steel vertical posts to keep the cars out. The side walk went through the middle of these two posts and my motorcycle barely squeezed through. There was about 1.0” inch / 26 millimeters on each side of my saddle bags and the posts. I squeaked through the posts and out onto the street successfully. I double checked that Blanche, my GPS, was following the route I planned. She was on track and off we went to the Brazil border. I had to find Hwy 12 to the Argentina Aduana and then onto Brazil’s Custom and Immigration. 

I arrived at Argentina’s Aduana in less than 15 minutes which shocked me. I thought it would take longer. Argentina processed me out of their country so fast I was afraid I missed a step or something. I remembered asking several times if all the processing out was complete and always yes, yes, / si, si. I got on my bike and drove slowly out of the Aduana / Customs and Immigration area. I was expecting an employee or Customs Official to ask me for some customs or immigration form which I didn’t have and then get redirected back to go through the process again. Well, that didn’t happen.

I continued on Hwy 12 till it crossed Rio Iguazu’ River which then turned into Brazil Hwy 469. I continued to follow the highway till I stopped in Brazil’s Alfandega e Inigracao / Brazil’s Customs and Immigration. I parked under the roof in a spot that was open. No one walked up to help and all the people were in offices. Scary, which office do I pick? A woman walked out of an office and I spoke in English to her and she spoke back to me in English to me. Good English too. I felt lucky and she told me she wasn’t part of Brazil’s Alfandega e inigracao / Brazil’s Customs and Immigration. She was preforming some kind of study involving that border crossing. I am not clear on the area of study. However, she walked around with me till we found the correct customs official to help me. He was there, but only after we checked several offices did we finally find him. I thanked her for her help and the guy proceeded to get started processing myself and my motorcycle into Brazil. It might not have been his day but he had problems with forms and he hated to wear glasses. I understood that, and we laughed together about the glasses. He asked that I check all the forms for correctness and I found a few mistakes which I corrected. All and all, I was out of customs and immigration within an hour. Technically that wasn’t bad. I gathered up all my paper work and put it in my top box. A couple of guys came from customs and immigration and talked to me about my travels. They also commented how much they liked my motorcycle. 

So, I was off to seek my fortune in Brazil. I was going to stop and get some water or food at a gas station and when I stepped on the brakes all I heard was metal on metal scraping and grinding away. I couldn’t get my foot off that brake pedal fast enough. The longer it rubbed the more damage to the rotor. The softer metal of the steel brake backing pad would weld itself to the harder disc rotor. I quickly pulled into a vacant parking lot and stopped. I was pondering my situation and where I could repair / replace my brake rotor pads. I looked up and, lo and behold, I saw a Shell gas station about 100 yards / 100 meters away. I decided if I needed help that would be the best chances of finding it.

I entered the gas station and parked near one of the shops that sold car and motorcycle insurance. The gas station had a small strip mall attached to it. It had two levels: the top level which faced the gas pumps and the lower level on the backside which you enter the shops from the other side of the building. Directly behind my motorcycle was a staircase which went down to the lower level on the backside of the building. It had an extended roof out over the stairs and side walk in case it rained out. It was perfect for me to change my worn out brake pads. I backed up against the curb and parked my bike. I blocked it up nice and secure to prevent it from falling over while I worked on it. First, I checked my water supply because I might be here a while. I shed my coat and started to unload my bike. Everything I took off my motorcycle I put under the roof. That included my helmet, coat, spare tires, my bags off the seat and my right saddle bag.
 Everything I needed to change my brake disk rotor pads was in my right saddle bag which meant I wouldn’t have to dig in my left saddle bag. I started digging in my right saddle bag and it looked like an explosion took place. The people who walked in and out of the mall thought I had a major problem with my bike. It was just everything strewn around. Actually, there was order, but only I understood it. Several people stopped by to tell me if I needed tools I could borrow some from the Shell station. By and by my buddy showed up.
She was a skinny young black cat. I wanted to give her some food but I had none and felt bad about it. She came and went during the couple of hours I was there. She was a professional moocher and had it perfected. Most people just petted her but mostly she ate the scraps out of the trash cans and off the ground. Anyway, changing the brake pads were pretty straight forward. The most difficult part of it all was cleaning all the dirt and grime out of the disk caliper. I assembled everything and blue Loctited all the nuts and  bolts in place.

During my brake pad replacement, a gentleman from the next door insurance agency stopped by to look at my motorcycle. We talked some about my travels and I asked him whether he sold motorcycle insurance. He said he did. I told him I would come talk to him when I finished with my motorcycle. He said “all right”, and left. He was a buddy of the skinny black cat too. 

I was in the process of wrapping up re-assembling my motorcycle when another gentleman stopped by to have a talk. He was curious about my motorcycle and my travels. He spoke excellent English so it was very easy to communicate. Because I was new to Brazil I needed to pump him for information, especially about motorcycle insurance. I asked him where I could purchase motorcycle insurance for a motorcycle from another country. I told him that my motorcycle was from the United States.  He said he didn’t think that it was possible to purchase insurance in Brazil on a motorcycle from outside the country. I told him the insurance agency next door told me they could insure my motorcycle. He said he would check. He came back from the insurance agency and told me that they could insure motorcycles only purchased in Brazil but not from outside the country.
 I was bummed. I had another agency I was going to check with about insurance. He then called around and asked friends he knew if they knew where I could insure my motorcycle. All his contacts came back saying the same thing. You cannot insure an out of country motorcycle or car in Brazil. I asked him to call one more insurance company for me. I found this agency on the internet. He called and spoke with their representative and got the same reply. In fact, the representative told me in English that if your vehicle motorcycle / car / truck is from outside of Brazil it can’t be insured in Brazil. After all the calling this man did for me and every return reply was “no” I dropped the issue of having motorcycle insurance in Brazil. I resolved myself to the fact that if my motorcycle was stolen it will be gone and everything lost forever. No compensation for anything.

I had my motorcycle all put back together and Luiz invited me down to his office to meet his IT staff.

They were really interested in meeting me. He told me to ride around the end of the building and park by his office. He would let me through the gate. I did and then went into his to meet his office staff. I believe Luiz has 4 men working for him and most of them ride motorcycles. We talked motorcycles and I shared some of my 1941 Harley-Davidson Knucklehead pictures with them. I also gave them my blog addresses if they would like to read about my travels. Luiz recommend we go out for dinner. So we all packed up and left for a nearby restaurant.  I ate Brazilian beef, potatoes and beans. It was a tasty meal for someone who has been living on Snickers candy bars, peanut butter and apples. When we finished we departed for the office again. We talked more motorcycle stuff and took some more pictures. 

I gathered my stuff and prepared to leave, thanking everyone for being such great hosts.

Two of Luis' men agreed to guide me to my hotel deeper into the city. I asked them before we left that they drive slowly so as not to lose me. I was able to keep them in my sights and arrived at the hotel safely. I thanked them again for helping me out, shook hands and they left for their job. I went into the hotel and secured a room. I was able to park my motorcycle around the corner from the front door. The perfect place. It was still early in the afternoon but as always crossing borders into a new country, dealing with customs and immigration ratchets up the stress level. I just wanted to hide in my room. I ate in the hotel that night but for what it’s worth it wasn’t worth the price I paid for the food. So, went today.

Here are a few more pictures.  Carlos customized his bike into this chopper, and he and his girlfriend rode their motorcycles to Ushuaia in 2019.  He sent me these pictures.

Here is my cat, Hiss, at home defending Mary against a red squirrel