After an odd hour of shoveling in Jeroen’s garden, we finally hit the road. It feels like old times to travel in Pino Blanc. The sound and vibration of the engine, all your stuff with you (hopefully) and only the road between you and where you’re heading, want to go to, or can go to. Continue reading “To the ferry”
Though two months later, we have just passed the border into Peru. What made us stay in Bolivia for so long?