Writing the news of the day is an exercise in memory of past weeks. Place names, people, what we ate, experienced, seen.The news of the day TODAY is what I remember, and often after clicking "send" I remember other things in mind. So much to share!
I open my eyes and try to remember my dreams that I could then share with Ollivier. The sun illuminates the tent already, it's time to leave. In the distance a rooster sings, dogs barking, a car passes over the stone path not far away. Our camps are often near water, lake, river.
We dress "in our cycling clothes," the morning dew wet our tent, we dry it over the sun. Folding sleeping bags and mats, we take chai, bread or cereal. An hour and a half later after waking up we take the road. Often we go to say goodbye to family who welcomed us that we rent a space to sleep. We take coffee and bread, honey or cynerhodon jam we love! Passing, we collect mushrooms fell from the tree, digüene, we eat in an omelette. At every turn the way offer us a different view, snow-covered volcano or cultivated valley, villages, herds of horses, cows, sheep or goats.
On the road we take, the few cars klaxon us,we wave. We often take the time to talk on the way, with the Mapuche, native people of Chile. They raise chickens for decades, eggs which are blue. Blue as the sky of spring!
We plant the rice in Parral with our friend Agustin, we slept in Mormon incredible, we mounted a hill without a path, pushing and carrying the bike and the trailer , we bathed every night in a lake or a mountain river, Elsa caught bugs in his sleeping bag when we stayed in a host place. We drank engindado, a very strong frut alcohol . Share two days of riding with Polish and Dutch globe trotters in their honeymoon, Magada and Walter!
I open my eyes and try to remember my dreams that I could then share with Ollivier. The sun illuminates the tent already, it's time to leave. In the distance a rooster sings, dogs barking, a car passes over the stone path not far away. Our camps are often near water, lake, river.
We dress "in our cycling clothes," the morning dew wet our tent, we dry it over the sun. Folding sleeping bags and mats, we take chai, bread or cereal. An hour and a half later after waking up we take the road. Often we go to say goodbye to family who welcomed us that we rent a space to sleep. We take coffee and bread, honey or cynerhodon jam we love! Passing, we collect mushrooms fell from the tree, digüene, we eat in an omelette. At every turn the way offer us a different view, snow-covered volcano or cultivated valley, villages, herds of horses, cows, sheep or goats.
On the road we take, the few cars klaxon us,we wave. We often take the time to talk on the way, with the Mapuche, native people of Chile. They raise chickens for decades, eggs which are blue. Blue as the sky of spring!
We plant the rice in Parral with our friend Agustin, we slept in Mormon incredible, we mounted a hill without a path, pushing and carrying the bike and the trailer , we bathed every night in a lake or a mountain river, Elsa caught bugs in his sleeping bag when we stayed in a host place. We drank engindado, a very strong frut alcohol . Share two days of riding with Polish and Dutch globe trotters in their honeymoon, Magada and Walter!
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