The locura, the craziness, I'm referring to started in Santiago de Chile and only ended in Quito, a little more than a week later. I said good-bye to my Austrian homeboy Matthias, a friend I made before New Year's Eve in Pichilemu and who was a big help in my ATM- and VISAless time, and boarded, in lack of reasonable offers on part of the flight companies and a lack of general reason on my part, one of the many buses that would take me to Quito. I won't go into details on the rides, since it won't surprise that bus rides are boring and wearing. Just some facts: my first ride was 32 hours to Arica, I coastal town I visited on my way south before. Crossing the border: 2hrs in a crappy collectivo which
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