Since Santa Cruz is an almost faceless 1.5 million city and we are full of big cities somehow the nose had (we have enough already, that we are here permanently and breadth circled the city rings), decided we to do without a more extensive tour of the city. We had the kind offer of a local resident, we have encountered in Samaipata to provide us with his small town car fit for a private tour. However, we have, because of the unbearable heat, easily dispensed with. Now that we had left Santa Cruz, we came back in a different world. Chiquitania is the land of Chiquito Indians, is about the size of Germany, goes into the marshes of the Bolivian Pantanal and then bordered by Brazil. By and large, the landscape of unspoilt wilderness, but is also characterized by huge haciendas. Another special feature is the so-called Jesuit reductions , which I shall return later. But first we fought our way out of the city of Santa Cruz. Long since we were already in place with another name, without ever having noticed that Santa Cruz had ended. Then, the settlement becoming thinner and we crossed at Puerto Pailas the Rio Grande , who here makes his name before all the glory. After 180 miles we had reached San Ramon and after 50 kilometers San Javier . Since it was late, we had to first take care of a parking space. We saw a reference to a Hacienda campsite at Laguna Soroboqui . The gate was closed, however, and far and wide to see no one. At first we were worried, but then we just went to the site. After more than half a kilometer and a lagoon a few buildings came into view. One worker told us that there is no camping here for a long time more. Coincidentally at the same time went before us, the new owner. Now that we were already there, he allowed us to stay. If we would like to request the same for several days without electricity and a penny for it. Sky was the beautiful here. A place on the lake, all to ourselves alone, only sows with cubs, chickens and roosters, horses and cows around us. All the land as far as the eye belongs to the Hacienda.
The lake itself was a bird paradise. For hours we watched herons, cormorants or these beautiful Jacanas Sudamerican . However, the camper interior, for even the common mosquito here had their paradise found.
We know that is the rainy season, but because it had just rained that night so miserable a lot and long? Although we enjoyed the early morning, the sight of this water pig, which was grazing in peace without being just a bit too interested in us.
Then there was a premiere of a special kind first, we were still the meadow, although with lurching and spinning tires high. At the gate but had to stop and Bernd ground was so extended that nothing went on. Burro in the mud was no support and we were stuck. Stubborn as a tank Bernd tried for half an hour with planks and wedges from the Mess to come. Only when he was silted up and down (and the camper with like him), he won support among the workers. But the tractor would not start. Since then had yet to make a car jump start. However, there did not have the appropriate cable. Bernd could help out, jumped on the tractor and we were just after the hour, free from our predicament. A good had the whole thing, we now knew what to expect muddy slopes on us.
Now it was time to visit our first reduction. 1690 Jesuits have founded these missions. They settled living here Guarani Indians of the reductions, which employed them in agriculture, taught them crafts and converted them to Christianity. The English government fell from grace, they had to give up all the reductions in 1767. Contrary to those in Argentina and Paraguay, where the Guaraní immediately disappeared into the woods and the reductions have fallen, the indigenous people were based here in the places and the churches are well preserved, especially as it around the year 2000, almost all have been renovated completely, the direction of architect Hans Roth and mostly with German donations. Another characteristic is that the churches and the Seminary of stone not as usual, but were made of wood. Today, the reductions are a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The beautiful facility in San Javier we could initially only be seen by outsiders as just a trade fair and the church was packed.
Unfortunately, elsewhere in the city was closed everything, including the museum. There was neither Sunday or Monday, we asked the police what was going on? Yesterday we had a big party and now have to recover all. As simple as that here. We stayed only the view of the courtyard of the mayor.
Even the scattered stones of the Apostle Los we had to tell their own story.
70 kilometers to, mostly by jungle and savanna, we reached Concepción . Here we had around the Plaza immediately ripped open all the roads and he was left because of the soggy soil almost not drivable. The beautifully painted church was locked and we had to again settle for an outside view. Besides, it was not possible for us to find a good spot here. Although there was a beautiful lagoon, but there was no security and what is desolate as water in the rain?
This is really very strange. Although it rains it is so hot that you sweat profusely. It So, whether you are walking around with or without an umbrella, wet one way or another. If only the ubiquitous sludge were not! The gas station owner is a nice guy. When we ask him whether we can probably stay in the parking lot, he takes us out of the mud and leaves us to the meadow behind his house. He also gives us more power and all for free. It rains all night and next morning he will not let us go. The next 180 km are dirt road in the rain and without four-wheel allegedly not passable. There were a few German here in town that we should wait and see until it is dry again. The man has really nervous. Depressed, we retreat to the camper, so had we not know, either. Bernard sees a truck with a Brazilian flag and asked the driver about the condition of the road. Comes straight from San Ignacio, our next target and thinks the road is passable. So nothing away as. As soon as we drove 20 kilometers, the rain stopped suddenly and everything is bone dry. So dry that we must close the window so as not to get everything in the interior. Are we glad we do not let us have intimidated. We see again a lot of animals. It starts with a dead rattlesnake, a huge tarantula crosses our path, birds of all kinds and thousands of butterflies swirl around us.
Chiquito Small villages tucked along the way and even these have chapels in the style of the Jesuit missions.
The distance is really hard. We are shaken and not shaken more like a long time. Entertainment is no longer possible, because we can only shout at loud against the noise in the cab. No part of the interior is gone where it was. We have now reached the 38 ° C mark. Then comes a downpour and everything around us is the lake. Soon the water is gone and it dusted the window clean. Only the beautiful surroundings and an increasing number of wildlife we still hold upright. Toucans fly by
and wood storks fill dead trees.
Then, finally, after 5 ½ hours and hours we reached San Ignacio de Velasco . Here we find the Pension Casa Suiza a really nice home for the next few days. We will stay here longer and had a number of reasons. First, we have not succeeded in the 06th before the presidential election to December and is out of the country, as was our original plan. We would have to hurry up and that would have been really bad now. Multiple was confirmed that Evo Morales won the elections and it certainly will not come to bloody riots like last year. Only on the day of the election, we should not go with the camper on the road. A better place than here, we would not find. We had a real family connection. The owner of Selva and Pepe are being locals and the previous owners, Christine and Horst just to visit. There was a single day boring, because it was always talk and we were able to bring much good stuff about life in Bolivia in experience. I also had to go back to the times of tooth, but this time just to check and I could do that here. And by the way, there were also visited another reduction.
even open this time and finally we were able to marvel at once at rest the magnificent interior.
striking in all missions is the large plaza, which are always filled with the beautiful old Palos Boratchos (drunken trees). The are called different, but this name has stuck from Argentina.
Saints' Day was also, and we had a day the dubious pleasure of pure music reproduction.
Selva us with homemade items such as butter, yogurt, Cheese and fresh fruit from our own production spoiled. In the guest book we found the names of old acquaintance and Christine and Horst have also done their best to us to sweeten our stay. Evo Morales won the election and my tooth is initially calm. The internet works anywhere, the blog is finished and can not be sent. Bernd has no pain in my arm out of sheer Lenkradrüttelei, so it's time to move on.
Another great piece of vibration track ahead of us. But this time interspersed with short breaks in further reductions. Oppressive heat, then torrential rains and the butterflies are our constant companions.
Even after 45 kilometers, we reached Santa Ana . For us the most beautiful on the Church of Palo Boratcho.
In San Rafael we can the church not only from the outside
but again visit from the inside.
Then finally we have reached San José de Chiquitos . The gas station has no gas for us, it stands for days on dry land and the gas station is no diesel to foreigners and then but, but only with strong charge. Somehow we have the feeling of having arrived at the end of civilization. But this time the church is looking stone
and the pastor in preaching to the angels.
Here are to live in the surrounding villages Mennonites, but we do not get to face, although they are very easily recognized by their old-fashioned clothing and their language. On Balneario y Cabañas Qebrada we do not fit through the gate. So keep the camper in front of the entrance and there are current through the fence. Another option we have not. The gas station has the next day no gas and the internet does not work either of course. After an hour of time we give up annoyed. But now the road is paved again. What a feeling! In any map, brand new and not the least nasty potholes and almost no vehicles registered outside of us on the road. Now and then a donkey cart, and only the cows and horses on the street just a short time a problem because they remain basically where they are. Well, they are just here at home. Burro purrs really and we can again talk while driving. After 120 miles we reached the hamlet Chochis . Here at the Ecoalbergue we want to stay. Since then comes times again a bit of adventure for us, because a washed-Lehmweg, a river crossing and a mean, have deep grooves PROVIDED increase first be overcome. There is then here but also very beautiful. Right next to the camper is a toad which we are really impressed because of their size. For comparison since Bernd wallet is next to it.
It is so hot, the walk to the Torre de Chochis is only moved once. There is a mosquito-proof room with hammocks. It lures us immensely. Relax and read is called for. Then comes the storm. It does not rain, it pours. First, we can not impress at all. Only when it rains the whole night through, it dawns on us that we somehow have to get out here. There is no executor is not here. Clock in the morning at 6.00 we have no peace, we just want to get away. That would be really a joke. Now that we have made it onto the paved road to get stuck because of one kilometers washed out track. But it is slowly but still good, even the now swollen creek makes no problem. At Burro is, after all rely on. In the village we do first time coffee break. We take a look at the scoring and annoy us that we were so lazy yesterday. But since it is still raining in torrents, remains us just one photo from a distance.
The next 260 km are kinda boring. Smooth road, beautiful landscape, not a challenge. Because of our early start, we have reached that morning Puerto Suárez . Bernard sees a gas station with infinite queue. He immediately turns and moves to the other side and asks a police officer if that is the last gas station before Brazil. It is the last before the border. Everything wants to fill up here, in Brazil the Diesel is so much more expensive. Whether because foreigners have to pay the same price Bernd want to know. Yes, they make no difference here. I groan, but because of the cheap Sprits I will not be at the end of the queue and wait for hours. Bernd makes dachshund view, the policeman stops the car and we are the fourth in the series. In Germany they would have stoned for it, here are excited to no one. It takes but half an hour until we finally have diesel. First, everyone here fills up with countless additional canisters and secondly, the gas station was temporarily out of juice. Bernd happy as a lark but that he had refueled twice as cheap.
Because we do not know how long we stay the border formalities, we want to have a stopover in Quijarro , Insert the border station. We have in fact so remarkable detail on the entry. The stamp will come only in the next town at the bus station and on the importation of Burro we know nothing. The search for an accommodation space created at first a bit difficult. The selected Hotel of us would take us, but wants 120 Bolivianos outrageous of us. We are not prepared to pay these exorbitant price and can not negotiate with them. We try it in a restaurant where we eat first of all wonderful. But who have not closed at night and no guard. So again nothing. The five-star resort hotel El Pantanal has no problem so, leave us for 70 Bolivianos to his place and power they give us. Well, it works anyway. You have to be patient. But then the end is funny. The next morning it's pouring with rain, yet it is glaring hot. The departure from Bolivia is relatively easy, even though they make do with the camper rather complicated. Meanwhile, the road is under water and there is no end in sight to the rain. Then comes the Brazilian border. Nobody wants to stamp our passport, the importation of all times understood apart and do it ourselves anyway. So what can we do? We go to the large Brazilian city of 100,000 inhabitants Corumbá and try our luck Polícia Federal in the bus station. We've just got lucky. Because in Brazil there is a time change, we have here an hour later. It is 11.45 clock and close at 13:00 the clock here, since today is Saturday. We must be classified into a snake and actually get the stamp with the stay of 90 days in the pass, we learn that we are because of the camper to aduaneiro Fronteira on the back, just need where we can get the necessary papers. Cursing, we are moving again and make our way back. We could turn around their necks which, because they've just sent off there. In the pouring rain, not the hand in mind we are looking back at the border station at. There is still no charge. It's just the weekend and the clerk is not there, maybe tomorrow morning at 8:00 clock. We have never experienced. Because there is no importation weekend. So we go back to Corumbá. Because of the illegal stay of Burro we make no head, it do not so different. We shop, dine and wine at lunch here and finally the Internet works fine. The long overdue blog has sent nothing in no time. We even find a hotel, which allows us to its parking lot, as we on the road quite aggressively hit on by children and adolescents. They constantly knock on the door and begging. Even keeps complaining they do not abstain from it in the half-hour cycle to try again and again and while pressing their noses on the windows platform. Even a stone, they have to put in so they can better see the start. Under the motto constant dripping wears away the stone. But on the large parking lot of the Aguas do Pantanal Palace Hotel we finally left in peace. On Sunday morning the sun shines from the sky, the customs officer is on time, speaks English and we get the import license, and many good wishes for the journey. The Food and Drug Control also looked away and only 1 km away at military posts, we are waved through. It all goes back around, Brazil we are now officially here!
The view of the Río Partguaí still lures us to risk a trip to the Pantanal. Let's see if it works yet.
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