So here we are at an internet cafe with a bunch of strangers, and yet so comfortable. We have been here once before and so we now have a sense of comfort and familiarity with this room. The smell of smoke is in the air and the gentle humming of the 10 or so computers is interupted by the taping of fingers on the keyboards. I have often thought about how the trip would end, and this wasn´t really what I had in mind. We are patiently waiting for the mechanic to fix my ( liz ) bike so we can fly to New York, but when that will happen is out of our control. From new york we bike the 900 kms home and thats the end of this chapter.

Our Hostel is filled with youthful travellers who like to drink and party all night, which isnt our scene but these are always the cheaper places to stay. Everyone speaks english there, making it easier to communicate, but at the same time I want to keep struggling through spanish so that I can continue to improve my third language. Its funny how people get home sick and desperately want something familiar, but when its available its less apealing. I have never done a big trip like this before, its been the most undescribable experience of my life... to date. It seems that the more things change and become foreign to me, the more comfortable I am and the happier I get. I have snapshots in my head of all the things I have seen and places I have been, but there really is no way of acurately describing them. It is going to be frustrating being home and telling friends and family about the hairy donkeys in Ecuador, or the funny reed  boats in Peru, I just dont think they will be able to grasp what I am saying.  I can still smell the garbage burning on the side of the road, a subtle hint that a town is nearby. I can hear the megaphones blaring with the good news of banana sales at 6am. I can feel the sand whiping my skin and the rain filling my boots. The most intense memory I have is that of Junior, the 6 days and 6 nights of near death. I will never be able to share the full experience with anybody that wasnt there, and it saddens me.

We chose the hostal we are in simply because Jeffrey was staying there. He is a fellow biker from new york, and he was on the boat with us. We saw him over the past weekend, and though we would never be friends with each other under normal curcumstances, we now share something that most people would never understand. I remember listening to calebs stories of his visit to costa Rica and Panama 4 years ago. He insisted that he could never describe the situations well enough, but I would be on the ground in pain with tears in my eyes from excessive laughter from the tales he told. I had no idea that he was seriously not describing things well enough, I was sure I had a good picture in my head, but after creating my own experiences I finally understand what he was saying. There is a point when nothing makes any sense any more and the world that I knew is a place I wont recognize anymore. I see things everyday that I would never see in canada., but after this long I dont even notice the family of 7 on a 50cc scooter barelling down the 8 lane highway.

We just had dinner at a nice cafe, it was quiet looking on the inside with few people and signs posted with sales on raviolli and coffee today. once we got settled we noticed there was alot of commotion all of a sudden, tables being moved around and fancy looking people everywhere. Everyone seemed to be on a mission and then the cameras came in and the lighting, a whole crew of people and half the reastaurant was intantly transformed into a tv set. We sat through the filming of a russian soap opera being fimed in Buenos Aires and had our coffee and hot chocolate while we watched. I know its not unusual to film things like that in restaurants, but what I found to be strange was the fact that it was 2 russian women, trying to speak spanish for the scene, and it was business as usual in the rest of the restaurant. customers comming and going and nobody seemed to notice the huge set up. I think if you have grown up in Latin America you really dont notice anything as unusual, because nothing is. a good example is: I would say that riding a motorcycle on the sidewalk would be completely normal, almost expected, and I have only been here for 6 months. Try that at home and you have people yelling at you, others on their cell phones calling the authorities and you would be fined for something absurde and so on.

I have noticed a huge diference in cities vs smaller towns. Each has an appeal to it, but also its disadvantages. Cities are always cleaner and have less obvious poverty, where as towns are usally smelly and money seems hard to come by. Now on the other hand, in the city you typically can´t safely walk the street at night and in the towns its never an issue. I think that the smaller communities have a much more welcoming atmosphere and are generally more open to strangers. There are always people who want to talk to you and truely concider you a friend from Hello. In the cities you can get the same warmth, but it takes longer. Latin America seems to have sorted out how to be happy with what you have, even if its very little and worthless to most, something we can all learn from in North America.

I will be glad to be home and with the ones I love again, but wherever I go and in everything I do I will always take what I have learned here with me. I am anticipating having a tough time adjusting to the high prices and strict rules, but I think that a little less chaos will be good for me aswell. If I could do the whole trip ove rknowing what I know now, I would change very little, but more time and money is always good.

Liz Wilkinson