spange, spange, spange.

well, mike, 46, british skipper, isn't leaving until march. and won't be going much further south than mexico. oh, snap. but he assured me he would listen to the net every morning and transmit my information if someone mentions needing a cook or any kind of crew on board going south, which is nice of him.

the cops keep being annoying and kicking me out of the spots i try to go sell in. next time, apparently, they confiscate my wares. that's a good 200-250$ worth of stuff made, so i need to lay low these days, which sucks because I have a whopping 15 pesos to my name, i can maybe get 2 tacos with that. and i still need to pay for my hammock space. argh.

so this is me saying BE KIND, PRESS MY BUTTON, SEND MONIES.

it's almost xmas, after all.


***EDIT***

Dear Santa,

This year, although I am lacking a chimney and milk and cookies to give you (how does Pacifico with a lime sound?), I would like to say that I'm sorry I have been such a bad spender. That having been said, I would really like it if you brought me the following gift, for which I promise to... get a job upon my arrival which would not involve me sitting on the ground in front of really crappy jewlery made from marijuana fibre.



So Santa, please remember me this year. I will leave out a lime, a knife, and a fresh Pacifico on the porch for you. Please come early. I have a duck to cook for Carry.

Love,


Cat.


p.s. Sorry for that one thing I did. I know you know what I'm talking about. No one else needs to know.

un dia si dios quiere...

well. a bunch of things.

the other day, after having spent some 8 hours parchando, no money in pockets. i got on the boat back to my island and sat down to write when a man named Montana came to sit and talk with me. finally he offered to go smoke a joint, and as i got up to follow i noticed a piece of paper on the ground. i picked it up.

"Cat

Buen viaje
Vaya con dios!"

inside the note was 10$ and 50 pesos.

O_o

no name. no idea where it came from. the american couple who had just left chabela's? christophe? the nice dutch lady from the boat who i spoke to the same day? it could have just been placed on my bag, which i had just manipulated, or could have been in there for a while. so strange, so cryptic, but welcome as i had only 7 pesos left, enough to take the boat back to mazatlan but not back to the island if i didn't make any money the next day.

yesterday i went to the marina and dropped off a note on the bulletin board announcing that a young girl with no sailing experience but mucho enthusiasm, very versatile and fast learning was looking to work, cooking or cleaning or any odd job, in exchange for a trip to central america.
today i got an email back! so i'm going to hop over there tomorrow and talk with the guy and see where he's going and if we get along.. as Scott pointed out, once you get on a boat, there's no getting off until you get to port.
i hope this works out. it would be so incredible to work my way to panama on a boat!



aaaaaaand, new living situation! and pictures!

mi hamaca is now installed on the roof of this very sweet man named John's house. i wake up every morning looking at this:







this is me waking up.




begin jealousy... now. hahah. personally i've been living on or around beaches for almost 2 months so now it's just same old, same old. i will admit that going to sleep and waking up listening to the sound of the waves is very nice, though, and it's great for the dog because he loves the water, the dead fish, and he can run to his little heart's content.



tiago likes beaches. what a lucky bolivian, most never see the beach.



look at how cute and big he is.



Now, pictures of the author, because it has indeed been a long time, hasn't it?



deep in conversation. hrm.



making jewlery in mulege, a few weeks back.



gratuitous myspace shot! nah i needed a good picture of my eyes for someone who asked for it.



a girl and her dog...




... we wander together.


more when life gets exciting again. ie: having no stress. have no money, but have beer and lime, and can find fish on the beach. yay, fresh dead fish.

isla de la piedra

as predicted, i ended up spending saturday night on the beach. i found a gazebo near a bit of a grass patch so i put my stuff down there, and walked across the street to see if i could find some cheap food. as i made my way back on the sidewalk, three young girls stopped in their tracks.

"OH!"
"Wow!!"
"Look at her hair!"

one of them ran up to me and started stroking my dreads, the two others grabbing my pigtails and putting them on their heads. one of them looks up at me with big brown eyes and asks if i`ll give her my hair.

"Well i can`t really just pull it off..."

"Oh please! just this fuschia one!"

i rummaged around for my scissors in my bag and cut it off, she held it up to the other girls.

"she gave me one! look at how pretty it is!"

the two others demanded they get one too. i figured it wouldn`t be fair, so i cut off a purple one and a pink one.

they ran off after their mothers, each proclaiming her dread was prettier than the other´s.

it was cute.

found my way back to my pack and tiago, and set up camp. about 15 minutes later `m pulled out of sleep by the sound of my alarm - tiago is barking. i wake up and see five policemen.

shit.

"uh, what the hell are you doing, girl?"

"um. sleeping?"

"where are you from?"

"france."

"why are you sleeping outside?"

"the only hotel i can afford won`t let me stay with my dog. i do have to sleep somewhere, don`t i?"

"i suppose. well. it´s ok for tonight. but find yourself a room tomorrow. it`s dangerous out here."

strangely enough everytime i opened my eyes i saw a cop standing nearby. cant see how dangerous that is, unless of course you consider my cops-stealing-my-monies-in-tijuana experience.

yesterday morning i was wandering off to the market to get a bite to eat (and a banana papaya milkshake, man i love those things) when a man painting a sign on a store stops me in the street.

"is that a chucho?"

"beg your pardon?"

"your dog. is he from mexico?"

"no."

"oh. he looks like a mexican chucho, where did you get him?"

"bolivia. he`s a callejero"

apparently this little thumb thing he has on his front paws is a sign of being a street dog, and a lot of mexican ones (chuchos) have them. i ended up talking with him, oscar is his name, and he asked where i was staying, i told him what had happened the night before.
he shook his head. "you should go to chabela`s on isla de la piedra. she won`t mind our dog, and if you have a tent i`m sure she won`t even make you pay 50 pesos."

well i have no tent but i have my trusty hammock.

i jumped on the lancha (boat) to isla de la piedra and started walking. turns out that chabela is actually isabelle, an artisan from montreal who specializes in making stuff out of coconuts, and she agreed to let me put up my hammock for 45 pesos a night, including use of shower, kitchen and bathroom.

and she lives right on the beach. it costs 15 pesos to go to and from the island, so basically it`s a 5$ a day deal. not so bad.

i went to hunt my first coconut by kicking the tree a couple times. i can`t climb a tree with no branches to save my life (something i need to learn, note to self) so it was pretty comical.

then someone tapped me on the shoulder. i turned around. in his left hand, a machete. in his right, a cocount.

he showed me how to open it to get the water out. i drank half of it, and gave the other half to tiago. then i hacked away at it to get the flesh out. once again. half for me, half for tiago.

it was delicious.


i met my upstairs neighbours, bud growers from grass valley. their kush knocked me out and sent me reeling back to my hammock, where the gegenas ("no see ems") ate me alive all night. apparently they also lay eggs under the skin, which uh, sucks cause i'm covered in bites.
must change hammock`s location from bamboo grove to somewhere far from annoying bugs. that, or buy a tiki torch.

but for that i must get to work, which is what i`m going to do! wish me luck.

goodbye baja, hello mainland

so much stress for nothing! i got tiago on the boat without a problem. and he put up with the 18 hours in a cage pretty well, he didn´t cry, didn´t have any accidents.

such a good boli, yes you are.

i feel like my blog has become overstuffed with my stress, i mean.. i went to some of the most beautiful beaches in la paz and didn´t even mention them. then again what´s the point of mentioning "white sand, clear, turquoise water, bright sun..." cause i mean, a beach is a beach, right? the boys (ale and mau) tried to get me on a surfboard but that didn´t work out too well. i wish i had pictures of that.

in the meantime, here are some stolen pictures of baja beaches, where ale, mau and i spent a lot of our time.




el tecolote. gegena free.




balandra bay. famous place, full of gegenas.




balandra, again.
somewhere, in pachuca, there exists a phone belonging to a certain alejandro in which there is a photo of a cat and a mau hugging in front of this beach.
hurry up, mamon, i want that picture.



anyway so la paz is behind me now, snif, kind of, now i´m alone again in a new city. i met some people on the boat, a francophone from Switzerland named Christophe (OMG FRENCH IT´S BEEN SO LONG) and some Mexican guys who were a hoot. One of them offered to come around later on to find me and he´s going to try and find me a place to stay, which is cool, but for some reason I have an aching feeling I´mma be sleeping on the beach again. 18 hours on a ferry is looong, but we got dinner and breakfast, and everyone kept buying beer for me so that was cool beans. not quite worth the 85$, although that ferry was the most luxurious ferries i´ve ever seen, then again i´m used to ones that take a few minutes to a couple hours at most. i still feel like i´m on it, still feel the rolling of the boat.
so just got into mazatlan about an hour ago, tried to find the spot where the artesanos go but apparently i need a permit to sell on the street here which makes me angry cause in order to buy said permit i need to sell said artesanias, it´s like a snake biting his own tail thing. ugh.

some days i feel like my expectations are too high, that i´ve set the bar too high for myself and i´m sinking, other days i feel like everything is riding high and i have luck on my side. today i´m a little from column a, a little from column b. just feels like the universe is trying to tell me something. something along the lines of ...

"hey you, yeah you, the freak with the 50 lb backpack, bolivian canine and travel cage on your head, you heard me, what the hell do you think you´re doing?"

umm. fufilling my destiny?

"bullshit! you´re digging your own grave! hello, reality check!"

umm.

i think my energy and my force of will to survive and overcome these obstacles should be stronger than all of these things. after all this is only a test.

it´s weird, there´s so much i want to see and do and right now i´m just stuck in a rut of i can´t do this when the entire point of this trip was proving to myself that i can do this, but it´s just getting harder and harder as time goes on. there were days in venice beach (LA) where i wouldn´t make a dime and people flying a sign that said "FUCK YOU" could make 40$ in 10 minutes. that used to depress the hell out of me. i´m sitting here knotting away and trying to make an honest living and i have to be thigh deep in a dumpster to eat (and what terrific dumpsters) and these dudes run around and say "fuck you! i´m hungryy, gimme some cash!" and make more than i do. jesus christ what is wrong with the world.
or maybe it´s what i make? granted i´m not very good yet, well i´m good at the knots that i do know and people seem to like what i do, but i´ll admit it´s not yet varied. i really want to be working with leather more than hemp but i do what i can with what i have and i think that´s the important thing. when i get to d.f. i´ll stock up on stones and seeds and leather so i can start making other stuff to add to my puesto de venta.


it´s the first time in a week that i´ve woken up to something other than mau saying mija come smoke a joint, wouldn´t mind the joint right about now, wouldn´t mind getting my morning hug either. need to find me some new friends. shouldn´t be hard. i´m a happy shiny bouncy ball of joy with multi coloured dreads and a nicotine stained smile that will melt your heart or make you want to buy me a different brand of toothpaste.

off to find the artesanos and figure out where the loophole in the system is, hope i make some $$$, hope you all are safe.

i am.

incoming grey hairs! zomg!

"Catalina."

"Catalina."

"Catalina."

"MUUUUUH?"

"Wake up and come smoke a joint with me, mija."

"Muh."

(for those who know me, you know that MUH is morning speak, especially when following a night of tequila shot upon tequila shot upon... good gracious Natalia! You are my new hero.)

I woke up and went in the kitchen and smoked a joint with Mau. So last supper style.

"I`m sad you`re leaving. You`re a nutcase, but you`re also a great person. You always have a home in La Paz, if you ever come back. Will you ever come back?"

Biting my lip.

"Maybe. I don`t know."

"Well if you do, you have a home with me. Don`t ever hesitate, my door is always open for you. And maybe you won´t get out today, La Paz has a funny way of keeping people stuck here."

No mames!

And then something really funny happened but I`m not going to broadcast that to the world. A hug, a kiss, a cuidate mucho, and goodbye.

Poof. Goodbye, Mau. You´re beautiful. Really. Maybe in another life.


---

Ok. Day on. Run to Baja Ferries, buy ticket (85$ what!) ask woman at counter if dog can come, she says yes in cage. Run back to Mau´s, get stuff, get dog. Run to buy cage, go to bus station, but ticket for Pichilingue. All is good. Look at ferry ticket. Oh noes.

"NO ANIMALS ALLOWED."

oh. god. no. que pinche pedo.


So. I´m freaking out. 30 new grey hairs have elected my head as place of residence along with the other 500 that have popped out since I started this trip. Stress! ARGH! OUT OF MY LIFE!

Options? Get ticket paid back and prey that I can afford a plane ticket from San jose del Cabo to Guadalajara? Hitchhike back up to TJ and go down through Mexicali?

Hop a cargo? Seems like the best option. Cargo. Yes. Cargo. There is always cargo in a port, right?


In other news that isn´t cat`s raging case of stress (tm), i`ve found an artist for my next skar (if i can afford it) who also offered to do suspensions in some pyramids out near oaxaca. QUE CHIDO! especially since the skar i want to get is the symbol for caminante del cielo which is mayan, so having it done in such an incredibly spiritual place and on mayan land would just be so beautiful.

que buena onda.


alright. bus leaving in 30 minutes. in one hour my fate is sealed... let`s hope tiago doesn`t fuck up yet another thing (i love my dog, but damn it`s difficult.)

tacos for breakfast

"Good morning Catalina"

"Good morning Mau"

"You hungry? Want breakfast?"

"Sure... what do you suggest?"

"Tacos."


(●ω●)

eeeh... what?! tacos... for breakfast?!

crazy mexicans.

Still no bag, probably not until tonight, anyway. Dammit. I walked around for a few hours last night, and finally this cute little mexican girl with a mohawk (!!!) comes up to me and says, "you´re so beautiful! I love your hair! Where are you from girl?" and turns out she works at a bar, so she called me in and gave me some free shots cause no one was in there yet. Her name is Natalia and she´s originally from TJ (tijuana), and I stayed and chatted with her for a good 2 or 3 hours until I figured I should probably haul ass back to Mau´s and feed Tiago. She told me to come back tonight cause it´s free tequila for girls, I asked what kind of music they´d be playing and she rolled her eyes.

"Reggaeton"

I am SOOOOO there, girl. See you tomorrow.


Got back to Mau´s, he kept trying to force feed me an omelette cause he says I don´t eat enough, which is probably true but then again i´m used to eating a meal a day from being dirt broke. I conceded and ate the stupid omelette (which was full of garlic mmm, garlic, stop feeding me aphrodisiacs, fool!) while he howled away making the dogs go crazy (El cantador de perros oue), i swear that man is crazy. I made a few necklaces cause I have hemp again (yay), listened to him screaming over his video game "A HUEVOOO!!! CHINGOOOON!". I fixed a necklace for him, something a Japanese friend gave to him which didn´t look like it needed to be fixed but he´s been asking me to make a new braid for it so I did. He seemed really happy with the result and gave me a bone crushing hug saying, "Now I have something to remember my cosita francesa!"

Awww. At least everything is less.. awkward than it was. Cause it was awkward for a few days. Now it seems like it´s back to normal, minus a few things, ha.
This should be a lesson to me.. like a crash course in Traveling 101:

"Never sleep with the people who are letting you stay with them, even if they look like they walked out of a Calvin Klein ad when they`ve just stepped out of the shower, even if they have the most amaaaaaazing dark green eyes and cheek bones you could cut yourself on, even if they have lips like whoa and pretty dulce de leche coloured skin, even if they smell like lavender and pepper, and ESPECIALLY even if they say, you can sleep on the floor or with me."
Hrm.
Bed versus cold tile. Gorgeous Mexican surfer boy versus hairy Bolivian canine. Hrm.

Hard to pick which sounds more appealing.

Ever been to an all you can eat buffet chock filled with all of your favourite foods, and have your mouth screwed shut? I haven't, but I have had to sleep in the same bed as a Mau and not be able to touch the Mau, and that is torture.

So the floor it is for me.

/end bitterness. Not really bitter. But still. I`d have preferred a different ending. I WALK OUT ON YOU, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND. GRR.

And speaking of endings...

I know I keep talking about leaving people behind and such but it is something that´s been on my mind for a while. There are so many people who I love and care for immensly and I haven´t seen a lot of them in a long time. My mother, for example, and my father, but there´s also all of my wankers back in Montreal.. I feel so selfish for having taken off the way I did, but I think I need to elaborate a little on why I left so abruptly.

"So I’m up at dawn putting on my shoes
I just want to make a clean escape
I’m leaving but I don’t know how soon
I know I’m leaving but I don’t know where to"

First, imagine going from the Amazon to concrete jungle, fluorescent lighting, traffic, white skin. Shock, complete and utter shock. Imagine going from living day to day to stagnant sedentarism. It´s like an iron fist to the jaw.
I broke down. I spent 2 weeks crying. I spent 2 weeks bashing my head against the wall wondering why the hell I´d gotten on that plane, why I didn´t stay. So I left for the West coast and tried to make money but failed. I got bored. I wasn´t getting any news from Montreal, and all the news I was getting kept breaking my heart, over and over. I miss my family, really, but all I could imagine going back there was not being able to find any work, being miserable, and having to go through another winter too cold for people of sound mind.

"it only gets worse when i´m stuck in one place.. i´m always pacing around or walking away..."

So I went south, and kept on going. And I´m going to keep on going. Even though I miss my parents, my friends, my family, even though with every new city I love and lose, even though I hate saying goodbye, I am going to keep on going until I get tired, until my feet are bleeding and broken. like they sing in my favourite song..

"Je ne sais pas ou je vais, oh ca je l'ai jamais bien su,
Mais si jamais je le savais, je crois bien que je n'irai plus..
Aujourd'hui je t'aime, oui mais demain, on ne peut jamais etre sur de rien, on va toujours seul sur la route, je continue coute que coute.."

I feel like I need to apologize for living my life this way, because when I left I left a lot of things untended. My apartment is gone now, my stuff is at a friend´s (merci crevette), but I left without saying goodbye. I left without saying I love you, take care, I´m sorry I´m so unstable and can´t live like this anymore. I´m sorry I want to walk alone with my dog, and be myself, and wander through this life like the mayan caminante del cielo. That is my purpose, and it was my choice, but that does not mean that it doesn´t hurt me every time I have to say goodbye.

"and it all boils down to one quotable phrase ´if you love something, give it away´"


But I shouldn´t have to apologize for wanting to live my life the way I live it, for loving people, for loving cultures, for loving seeing something new everyday, meeting new faces, speaking another language than my own, and wanting to discover the world.

" "if you're still free, start running away... cause we're comin' for ya!"

I´m sorry that I haven´t seen my mother in almost a year, and that the last time I saw Sarah was for her mother´s funeral; that Amelie and Crevette are stuck in Montreal when I´d rather have them here on the road with me, that Niko needs to go back to France and I don´t know when I´ll ever see my big brother again (on a eu nos differences mais dans mon coeur, tu es et sera toujours mon hermano), that Aprille is going to Thailand and not Buenos Aires (HERPASSO SECORRO).


Anyway. Thought I should clear some things up. And I leave you with Bright Eyes, Landlocked Blues. It´s a good summary. That, and it will always make me remember Aeon and Courtney who picked me up in Garberville one rainy day, and who I left in LA two weeks later. Hope you guys are well.



(quotes from Landlocked Blues (Bright Eyes) and Ou je vais (La rue Ketanou))

p.s. this blog entry was edited 10 000 times. Hope you like it. I think it´s very entertaining.

la concha de la lora....

universe, please stop sending me signals that force me to stay in la paz. please stop, ok?

now that i´ve found a cage (within 3 blocks of the bus terminal, oh thank the lord), i left my bag at a friend´s house and he was supposed to bring it back around 2 but didn´t. so i have to wait to get my bag so i can leave. what the hell, man!

anyway! last night met a bunch of great people, pedro and renée, awesome people and we sat around while ale played some traditional mexican songs (la llorona goes on and on and on...) and drank a shitton of mezcal and i ate the worm and now i think i am the worm, or that i have an amoeba or some intestinal parasite.

enough about bad things my god! i´m in mexico! it´s hot out! there´s no snow! yay.

well i guess if i manage to get my bag back tomorrow i´m off to pichilingue and then mazatlan... makes me sad, kind of. ale left this morning and invited me to come see him in pachuca, and tomorrow i´ll have to say goodbye to mau who has been so good to me, cooking for me, and never letting me buy my own beer.

i wish things had been different. we don´t have much to say to each other these days, but it´s also cause i´m always running around trying to figure stuff out and he´s always passed out from smoking too much weed and cause he gets up at ungodly hours for his school (marine biology go figure). in any case i hope he hasn´t minded having a crazy french girl and her even crazier dog in his house for a week.

now just cross your fingers that i manage to get my bag, the cage, and on the ferry for mazatlan before i do something stupid.

puto boli

tiago decided to escape on me for 4 days, leaving me in a state of shock, which lead to complete despair and finally me trying to beat the shit out of a banana tree.

needless to say the tree won.

so this is me wandering through la paz at 7 am, at noon, at sunset, in the middle of the night, barefoot, whistling. crying hysterically, calling out to my dog. tiago. tiago. por donde andas amorcito?

this morning when i heard something fidgeting with the front gate, then the sound of something metallic, and a run. i lept out of bed and ran out the door and lo and behold, was the puto boli himself, tiago la terreur. a little burnt on his nose but other than that he`s fine. i`m so happy he came back, i couldn`t imagine life without him. in fact, life without him was terrible. he`s annoying as all hell but i wouldn`t give him up for anything.

the past 4 days haven´t been so great, therefore, what with me looking for my dog and not noticing the situation with m. going from whee! to meh in .5 seconds. we had a little chat last night which ended with me saying something along the lines of, such a shame, you`re a pretty little thing, but i`m used to it by now, i always end up leaving, so i try not to get too attached. it`s cool man, no worries. i`ll be out tomorrow, to which he said no no, it`s cool, you can stay.
i wonder if this reaction(*cough* rejection *cough*) came from me being a wreck or if it`s because i´m leaving...
or that i`m trying to, anyway, cause everything seems to be holding me back these days.

now i have to buy a transport cage, but i can`t afford the cage and passage to mazatlan, so i`m not sure of what to do. i am going to need a cage. this is fact. however, a 200$ cage is not necessary. in fact, i could buy the 200$ cage but then i`d have all of 2$ to my name and that won`t get me to mazatlan.
a vet has an old beaten up one for 70$ but it has no door, but she said she could fix it up for me. the thing is i want to leave like, now, right, cause i`m not sure how much longer i want to stick around. actually, i have 30 days to get to buenos aires, so that doesn´t give me much time to hang around staring at the ceiling, or walk around this boring city that i know by heart now.

i leave you with this heartwarming self portrait taken 2 months ago, the day i embarqued on this crazy trip, in rock island, washington.
´



we`re just one big happy family.

te deja con buen sabor en la boca oue

ahhh, peace at last.

now i`m living in a cockroach and meth free environment with a guy from michoacan so it seems like a more mexican deal than the previous one which was living with a gringo in a meth motel (what else were we expecting for 25$ a week?).

the story as follows:
i got rid of the gringo and got the hell out of the motel inhabited by cockroaches and methheads.. the gringo was talking about robbing some old man and getting tons of money so i walked out, sorry man but i can`t be around someone like that. took tiago for a stroll on the beach and there i met two artesanos (WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL WEEK?!) who i hung out with for a while until they brought me over to mauricio`s where i`ve been living ever since. he heard about the gringo and the hotel and asked me if i was ok and i said not really, i want to leave la paz, so he offered a place to stay so i`d change my negative ideas about baja.
and now i feel like this huge weight has lifted off my shoulders, no more brad, no more meth neighbours, my stuff is in a secure spot and tiago is happy cause he has a new friend named kaiser (yet another pitbull). and mauricio is a really nice person, in fact he`s a beautiful person with a lot of heart and he`s radiant, he just has this crazy glow and amazing energy flow. and just as beautiful to look at, man how do i find these guys i´ll never know, but thank whichever god you pray to, cause i`m not complaining.

which gets me to my next topic: the bane of the traveler`s existence.
the thing about wandering around is that you meet a lot of wonderful people, a lot of assholes as well, but let´s focus on the positive. and i´ve met a lot of incredibly kind people, interesting conversations and fun times were had. and i´ve had to leave all of them behind me, which is always sad. it breaks my heart everytime when i have to say goodbye to them ..this means you, arica, and you, buenos aires, and you, lima, and you, ushuaia, and you, samaipata, and now it also means you, la paz. so many friends, travel companions, lovers, i miss them all and this time i know it´ll be no different.
i guess it´s just the way it goes, i always end up leaving wonderful people behind me, never knowing if i´ll ever see them again, or what could have been.

màs alla del sur!

(sorry Diego, I stoled your book title)

HI!

I´m alive!

So where to start? Cherry season ended and I found myself without a cause. What to do? I chased BC around for a while and then finally hitchhiked down to California to a festival to see my sister, and then hitched up and down the coast until getting to Venice Beach where I stayed for 2 weeks, making necklaces and hairwraps to survive up until Halloween, when I found a ride that dropped me off some 300 kilometres into Baja California. Between Venice and San Quintin my wallet disappeared, so although my bank card is no longer in my possession, donations are still appreciated and will always find their way to me, so please guys, remember your favourite adventurer cannot survive on filtered water and tacos alone.
Since parting ways with the ride, I´ve been hitching through the desert, accompanied although I would rather be alone, but here is our last stop together - he goes back to Alaska and I go north, which should put a stop to creepy guy staring at me when I wake up. We´ve been sleeping in abandoned ranches, behind Tecate factories and for a week in a palapa on the beach where I met Giulia, a wonderful woman, ageless, who´d been living on this beach for a few months. She inspired me to keep on going. If you read this contessa, I wear your strachi with pride (and the Mexicans love it, skeezes), I hope you love your tresses still, and that they´ll still be in when we (inch´Allah) meet up in Colombia.

Now I´m in La Paz, Mexico. It´s beautiful, it´s sunny, it´s hot, i´m browner than brown, but no one will buy anything from me, and it seems like hair wraps went out of fashion along with dayglo spandex. I also have a wisdom tooth making kits way through my cheek which always makes for great times, thank god for penicillin.

The adventure, hopefully, should follow to Puerto Vallarta and from there... a boat to Costa Rica? A bus to Tapachula where the Ticabus will take me to Panamá? Continue hitchhiking through such hair raising places as Nicaragua, Honduras, El Salvador? I hope not. I like adventure, but I like being alive too.

Maybe if someone sponsored me I´d do something crazy like that, maybe even go through the Darian Gap like this dude I met who is doing it on a bike (but am i that crazy? I´ll leave that to the next blog entry....)

In the meantime I continue attempting the life of an artesana so that I may one day see the Buenos Aires penis once again (the Obelisk, you perverts) and that Tiago might one day see his birthplace once more and happily frolick through heaps of trash with his parents.

More to come soon from the crazy chick with the crazy hair, crazy love to all and remember... DO WHAT YOU´RE AFRAID OF!