Who cares Burundi?
"We saw many men carrying the fruit of the oil palm excessively on their bicycles, as if they arrastrasen your destination, his penance. On the flip flops they seemed to push a punishment of wars and genocides."
What the hell am I doing here?
What the hell am I doing here? es la pregunta que todo viajero se hace cuando está perdido, inaccessible, en un lugar remoto. Cuando el viaje es de verdad interesante.
16 articles
It all starts at Jericho
We were in the desert of Judea, in the month of July, visiting the oldest inhabited city in the world. Water gives life to fruit trees, trade, to the life, in this unbearable desert, where everything is sand and sun.
The last intifada in Jerusalem
It is where flows the love of the gods and the hatred of men. It is the city of cities, maze of creeds, origin of all that we are. It is the wall that contains the holy war, the sad song of the muezzines, assault rifles and the Garden of Gethsemane.
The island where dogs go crazy
Today only twenty people walking off the green water and blue beach Tean. There are some modest houses between vegetation, where some elders who have seen their children live.
A Day in the Death Road
Bolivia is full of cliffs, carriers and unpaved roads. Poor mixing. The crossing guard one of the most breathtaking trips in America and his name does not help to relax the gesture at the wheel. The Highway of Death is a path of mud and stone that wind through the foothills of the Yungas.
The hidden city of the Maya
Almost in whispers told us that the Mirador was the greatest legacy of the Maya, that beyond Tikal, hidden in the jungle are the ruins swallowed by weeds, a city larger than Chichén Itzá, Palenque oldest, most forgotten that all.
Bloukrans: a jump of 216 meters
"They are 7 you 8 seconds of free fall, "he tells me a bald guy with hands in pockets, as he tells me the direction of a pharmacy. “Ah, Look how well, and gives me time to remember all your family "I think, already affected by nervous tension.
A boat from the fjords of Alaska
We decided to take a trip to the spring. We wanted to leave behind the ice, night advanced to the desktop, the slap of the morning wind, sea of fir: Alaska. After six months of cold, we escaped south, as winter castaways looking for a shore with palm trees.
Diomedes: The Island at the world
Little Diomede Island has a habit of punishing the visiting, is usually a bad mood, with twisted gesture on ice, polar winds puffing claiming his desire to be alone, lost to follow one of the corners of the world.
Canaima at ground
Down there, in the dense forests, rivers make watermarks on the rock. Down there, between tropical trees, Jade's roads, pools as glass, burgundy waters, snakes emeralds. Down there I heard a song of exotic birds and the sound of waterfalls.
Canaima from the air
If the elves would inhabit this planet, home would Canaima. In the Gran Sabana of Venezuela extends this territory that some locals compared to a woman. But you need to get on a helicopter to understand that sometimes the world go crazy and explode the waterfalls and landscapes impossible walls.
The pissed off a crocodile attack
Happened on Bocas Dzilam, north of the Yucatan Peninsula, in a place that is neither coast, or forest, or mangrove, but has a bit of everything, as if the chaos outside its natural state.
Vladivostok: away from the rest of the world
A 9.288 kilometers-Moscow, a teenage couple kissing in front of a frozen beach where the Pacific breaks its last waves. Russians drink vodka soldiers in the trendy, women walk with the same grace that inthe Square Rojay children play on the waterfront
Siberian: a journey of tundra and vodka
Around the world was divided. My co-expedition were about to cross Russia by car, across Siberia under the threat of an impending winter. I would do the same trip aboard the "Moscow-Vladivostok train", known here as the Siberian.
An accident in the heart of the Gobi (Part II)
I just heard my own breath as he ran with no plan to the car. Alfonso was behind me. scared the image of chaos: a computer that had come out fired, unrecognizable car parts, smoke ... the screams of my friend.
An accident in the heart of the Gobi (Part I)
The pleasure of nowhere. In Mongolia it is possible to drive with your eyes closed for a while. We had left Ulaanbaatar and I only had a clear horizon ahead, an empty landscape and a sense of unbridled freedom.
