Julie and Arturo
I met Julie and Arteur…Arthuer…Aurxtheourx…
Sorry, how do you spell “Arthur” in French? Nevermind, I’m in Latin America.
I met Julie and Arturo on the morning of the volcano hike (though I had noticed them the night before, cooking their spaghetti on a backpacking stove, like real backpackers, while I sauntered down to order a banana milkshake).
Julie was brushing her teeth above the bug apocalypse, and her eyes shone as she asked if I had hiked the volcano. (I soon realized that her eyes just always shine.) They were hiking it that day too, without guide, and would see us up there.
They are a hardcore pair, and we never saw them en route, but there they were at the big scenic mud puddle on top, relaxing in the sun, not looking particularly tired.
|The sinks in the morning,
where we were brushing our teeth.
They are seven months into a thirteen month trip that will take them from Patagonia to California. They were the type of chill folks who never brag about their trip, but in legitimately linked comments I got the impression they’ve had quite a time.
Me: “How was your guys’ bike ride today?”
Arturo: “It was very nice, beautiful. Difficult though, with lots of hills.”
Me: “Not too scary? No cliff edges?”
Arturo: “No, not really.” (While wearing that shirt in the picture, for the “Death Ride” in Bolivia.)
Me: “Not like the Death Ride.”
Arturo: “No, that was scary. We did it for my birthday.”
Arturo: “These tortillas are good.”
Me: “Yes. You know who else likes tortillas are the drug runners in the Guatemalan border town I found myself stranded in, see what happened was…”
Unfortunately, they are headed north, while I am heading south, buuuut, they will eventually end up in San Francisco, so if any of you SFers want to give them your phone number/email and maybe get burritos or let them couch surf with you, they come with my fullest recommendations. (I am carrying a massive karma debt for all the hospitality I’ve received, so while I can’t pay it off myself yet, I feel a desire to facilitate other people’s payments.)
Oh, and Mom, I already gave them your number.