Dealing and Road Trips: South America, 1984-85 by James May

After the crappy fall and winter I'd had, 1984 would be a much better year, putting me on the road I wanted to be on and and culminating in a trip starting in Nov. that would be a really fantastic experience, going deep into 1985.

I lived in a third floor 1 bedroom apartment in a big, old building from the 1920's that are quite common in South Minneapolis.

I didn't keep a journal during this period, not until my trip started on Nov. 5 and I remember little of what I did on a day to day basis in Minneapolis. I spent the time trying to figure out a way to get out of Minneapolis and back to Rio, South America and Guatemala and I was pretty determined to do it. Not winning a artist's grant this year left me with only one outlet for getting several thousand dollars and that was my comic collection. I had a great collection of Marvel Comic books that retailed for about $11,000. In the days before the internet there were few outlets for selling an entire collection of comics at once. There was a tabloid devoted to selling comics however that was national and I put an ad in it. Eventually I sold the collection in the late summer for 5 grand with little time to spare. I had saved some money as well and so I was set to go by the fall and really excited and happy about the prospect.

That collection would be worth many tens of thousands of dollars as I write this in 2009 but one can't put a price on what a great time I had on the coming trip and I have never regretted it. I loved those comics and had read and reread them many times but it was time to put them to a better use. I would turn 30 before I left and those comic books that had held such a wonderful spell over me when I was 15 had faded. Spider-Man and the Fantasic Four, Captain America and The Hulk would work their super powers on a more mundane level but which would provide me with a lifetime of fantasy come to life which memories would serve me in good stead for the rest of my life.

The most notable event that year that I can remember was the beginning of my relationship with a woman who would be my lover and close friend for several years, that girl Winnie. I say that girl because Winnie was unique; she was also outgoing, friendly, compassionate and a really fun woman to have as a lover. Winnie was just what I needed although I'm not sure I realized it at the time. It's that 'you don't always get what you want but what you need' type of thing.

I have mentioned Liz and Andy and Kevin several times. Andy and Liz were a couple I'd met around 1981 when they'd come over to buy some weed. At this time in late 1983 and 1984 I'd grown closer to Kevin and Liz and Andy. Liz was moving into a house in South Minneapolis around 34th and Fremont. I helped Liz move in and Winnie was Liz's roommate. Winnie was attracted to me right away and soon developed a crush on me. Winnie didn't have a lot of self-esteem then and was someone who could be and had been taken advantage of. After what I'd just gone through I was not going to be a son of a bitch to anyone. I was always nice to Winnie and we had a really crazy love life. My own apt. and the duplex where Winnie and Liz lived were only a few blocks apart.

Winnie had a one in a million personality and could be quite eccentric. I remember one day early on in our relationship, in the summer of 1984: Liz and Andy and I were sitting around the dining room table and Winnie came out of her room to join us. She was wearing only a skirt, totally topless. Winnie used to like to push boundries in those days and shock people a little and maybe herself too. Winnie was in many ways almost the complete opposite of Linda who I felt had done me so dirty when I'd returned from Latin America in the late summer of 1983. A lot of women become a little high maintenance just because of the fact that men chase them, never realizing that men will fuck anything that move. Linda was like that and Winnie was not. When you were with Linda you got the feeling that she was doing you a favor but with Winnie it was a natural thing without a lot of ego involved. Winnie was also lively and a lot of fun. I don't neccesarily hold being reserved against people but fun is fun.

Although I am getting ahead of myself, Winnie was very nice to me when I came back from South America. Unlike Linda, Winnie meant every lovely thing she wrote in the letters she sent to me in South America and though she may have taken a lover or 2 when I was gone she was happy to see me when I returned and there were no shit sandwiches to eat on the occasion of that return; completely the opposite from 1983. 7 months is a long time and I wasn't stupid enough to expect either Linda or Winnie or myself for that matter, to abstain from love but I did expect people to be nice and sensible and to dance with the one that brung ya'. Lovers sometimes behave as if they suddenly have to go somewhere and they don't give a shit if they have to run right over you to do it. Like I wrote earlier, this type of thing smacks of desperation and there was no place I ever had to go in such a hurry that I would leave behind a broken heart, never. When it comes to those types of situations the word "no" is not in my vocabulary. Where are we rushing in such a headlong fashion that we cannot afford to say "yes" and take care of each other and live up to the whispered promises in the dark? As the years passed I learned to stay away from people like Linda but unfortunately some people are very,very good at disguising themselves until that moment comes when they want something very bad. In that moment they'll get in a truck and run you over if they have to and that is exactly the type of person Linda was and Winnie was not. There was a heart inside Winnie that you could reach, that you could call on and there was nothing like that in Linda; I know because I tried for 2 1/2 months and there was nothing there to reach. Winnie was not capable of such cruelty.

Winnie had such a crush on me that it was kind of scary at times. She always told me how much she loved me and sometimes, out of nowhere, she say something like she didn't know what she'd do if I ever left her and that was the scary part. Winnie had enough feeling for the 2 of us and that was why I would never tell her I loved her, simply because I was a bit put off by the intensity of her feeling for me. But Winnie was my best friend and my lover and I know now that I loved her very much.

Like I said, I don't remember much of what I did in that Spring and Summer of 1984. I hung out selling weed, having friends over, having Winnie over, working in the darkroom at the Minneapolis College of Art and Design where I graduated from, going out and doing night photography with a 6x7 Pentax which I loved, going to parties, going to movies, art openings, the normal stuff that people do. Although I remember a residual of gradually fading hurt and anger it eventually went to that place where all pains of the heart go and turned into a deep scar. Like Linda, Winnie had a cat which she dearly loved, George the cat. For some odd reason every women I have been close to has had 1 to 3 cats they loved very much: Debbie, Linda, Winnie, Wendy all here in Minneapolis, Sylvana in Rio, Stephanie in New Orleans. I don't know what that means; maybe it means that I should stay away from such women since all of the relationships ended badly and with hurt. Maybe those women should have stayed away from me; I have no answers. I would have stayed with all those women if it had been up to me. Everyone of them turned their back on me except Debbie who I separated from because I'd felt I was holding her back from a better life; had she wished it I would have stayed but though Debbie was very hurt she never asked me not to go. I would never have said no to a woman I was close to who asked me not to leave; I don't do that - I relate too much to the pain and feelings of abandonment.

I make it sound as if I am the ideal man and this far from the truth. I have a bad temper although I have never once been physically abusive towards women nor threatening except for ons sole instance during a telephone conversation with Linda. I am cocky, arrogant and can be somewhat dismissive and I have often been desribed by others as intense. Women have told me on several occasions that they felt as if they had to stay on their toes around me. This makes me sound like some kind of jarhead drill instuctor and I am much more laid back than that though I guess I do have kind of a type A personality and I can be somewhat driven at times as well. I do not have high expectations of people other than loyalty and honesty. When it comes to professional accomplishment I expect people to police their own shit and not to take claim for accomplishments they have never done. Words do not replace years of work towards a goal nor replace having the intestinal fortitude to do extrordinary things. I've known too many people who want you to worship them because they put their shoes on in the morning of who use cheap talk to come even with your years of hard fought accomplishment.

Although many women have told me I am handsome I have never felt that way and am very accepting of other people; I am not a high maintenance guy. I do not feel like I am God's gift to women when it comes to that sort of thing and have always been happy with whatever woman I was with at the time and did not set my sights beyond who I was with at the time. That doesn't mean I never had 5 lovers at the same time but that was more when I was in a place where I simply didn't trust women very much and was in no committed relationship. In all the years I was with Debbie who was my first love, I never had another lover and didn't even think of stuff like that. If a woman really wanted monogamy with me it was not hard to get; I would keep such a promise.

The occasion when I left for Latin America is hazy in my memory when it comes to what Winnie and I discussed about how things would be between us upon my return. Although I don't remember specific conversations with Winnie about what happened between Linda and I when I returned from my last trip I'm sure they took place. I was resolved that I would not leave my heart out there dangling in the wind on this trip. Whatever happened when I came back to Minneapolis this time would be something I would try and be totally indifferent to. No matter what was said in letters from Winnie I would take it with a grain of salt big enough to choke a horse. Despite this, in the back of my mind I recognized the fact that Winnie had a totally different vibe about her while with Linda it was hard to shake this here today, gone tomorrow feeling which is evident from my very first entries in my journal upong arriving in Rio de Janeiro at the very tail end of 1982. Winnie never felt she had to reassure me that she wasn't a shit while Linda said exactly that. I learned from Linda that when someone stresses, 'I am not a shit', it is like Hitler saying, 'I am not a racialist' or Nixon saying, 'I'm not a crook'.

There is a lesson to be learned there and it has to do with paraphrasing that old quote, "the woman doth protest to much". In fact, people who go out of their way to portray themselves in a certain light may only be indicating that they themselves may have their own doubts on the matter. A person who is kind doesn't need to wear a t-shirt which says, "I'm Kind". How many times have you heard some woman talk about her daughter as my "beautiful daughter" or a military commander talk about his "the courageous men" of such and such an oufit. There is something almost un-American about that, which is why so many Americans used to look with a weather eye on Soviets who called each other "comrade" and why I find it faintly odious how some black men call each other "brother". Real friend's don't need complicated hand shakes and protestation's of loyalty and the short phrase "trust me" does not have a popular ring to it in the english language.

The point is that I wasn't going to get caught with my pants down again. My homecoming from this trip would be the complete opposite starting with absolutely fantastic news the very minute I got home. The woman in my life turned out to be a real woman and not some imitation of one and my homecoming on that front was a loving one.

My friend Kevin and I had grown closer since I first met him in 1979 when he opened a used bookstores two blocks from MCAD's campus. As summer 1984 drew to a close I was always telling Kevin how he should come along with me for a part of my stay in Guatemala which is how I would kick off the trip. At first Kevin wanted nothing to do with it but I kept telling him, "trust me", you'll have the time of your life. I wanted Kevin to experience the big fun I was having and I was totally certain that he would have the time of his life if he came along to Guatemala. There was nothing in it for me - in fact I would be less mobile, have to look out for Kevin, act as translator, etc. But I wanted Kevin to get in on this type of fun. I was always telling my closest friends about how great it was to travel to cheap, weird places and inviting them to come along for all or parts of a trip.

Eventually, I won Kevin over and he came along with me to Guatemala for the first 18 days of my month long stay there before I headed off to Rio and true to my word, he absolutely loved it and we had a hell of a time. The type of a time so good the memories stay with you forever. Kevin liked it so much that he came back with me for a hitch in Guatemala in 1987. We had a great time then as well. Some of the best times I've ever had.

For some reason now lost in the mists of time because I have no memory of it whatsoever, I didn't make daily entries in my journal in Guatemala that time or for the 1st 2 months of my time in Rio. Rather I made some short entries in the form of a synopsis which I regret today. All I can say is that I was super busy, having a great time and doing a lot of running around.

I can tell you this for a fact: I was so happy to be the fuck out of Minneapolis and back on the road and in Rio that I was ready to burst. In looking back on this time in my life it is clear that it was a mistake not to figure out a way to make a living in Rio. It's not that it wasn't on my mind alot but that I just didn't have the brains or confidence to make it happen. Out on the road I felt like I was really alive whereas my time in MPLS was like a shadowy half-life where, despite my attempts, what I was really doing was counting sheep til I died.

Here is how my journal starts, written at some indefinite time while I was in Rio de Janeiro, probably in January:

I had a real good time in Guatemala. Kevin loved it. Getting out of the oncoming cold in MPLS into 75 degree weather with the prospect of the hot days in Rio afterwards was just what I needed. I just had to get away from the stupid bullshit there. There had been a pall over that town ever since I returned from my last trip and walked into that pig Linda. I've only recently become aware of the fact that I have, throughout my life, consistently overestimated how much I can trust people and, sad to say, it seems I have rarely underestimated the self centered hypocrisy and thoughtlessness they possess. Needed some fresh air, a break from the trendiness. If some people put as much thought to the feelings of other people as they do into what clothes they wear I'd be less bitter.

A good feeling to be in Guatemala. We arrived Nov. 5. By the 8th we were standing in the back of a bucking pick-up truck. winding out way towards Pacaya Volcano. I was gleeful; a beautiful day a grand view of Agua Volcano with it's gargantuan upsweep of green.

Kevin had a difficult time climbing, puked twice. I made it to the cone ahead of him and when he didn't show I climbed back down the trail to find him struggling up the slope on his hand and knees, near to total exhaustion. I took his pack and up we went.

We'd no sooner caught out breath than strong winds and bitter cold gave us no choice but to get in our sleeping bags and huddle miserably. Photography on a tripod was out of the question with the strong winds and it was cold enough that I never even bothered to go to the edge to look and see if the crater was spewing lava. In the 15 mo. since I'd been there a ridge had formed on the side of the facing us so that it was no longer possible to look into the crater from up on the old cupola, which was something of a disappointment. What was nice was that, below La Meseta, at the base of the cone, a new lava dome was growing, sluggishly oozing out lava in little rivers, making weird crackling noises as it cooled into a mound of Playdough lengths. Once in a while during the night, I'd brave the cold and smoke a cigarette and look at the strange landscape lit by the full moon.

We didn't get warm again til we descended to the Meseta (the next morning) where there was little wind and the sun quickly warmed our bones. That was a morning I won't soon forget; lolling in the grass, eating and listening to beautiful FM stereo on my little Toshiba while Pacaya belched out smoke. There was an incongruessness to that morning. We had a beautiful walk off the volcano and, satisfying a long felt curiosity about Laguna de las Calderas, I steered us there.

Laguna de las Calderas is a tiny village, then and now, situated on the south shore of a little lake that has formed in the ancient crater of a volcano. That entire area consists of a volcanic complex that has been active for many thousands of years. Pacaya itself has been active almost constantly since the early 60's. Hiking down to Laguna was splendid as it was an easy hike down a straight, much used trail shaded by trees with fields on either side of us. Hiking up around Pacaya volcano is pure fun and the views are stupendous. Once you've got a taste of this you'll want to do it again and again. I was to climb Pacaya Volcano 4 more times, one of them on this trip after Kevin left.

The next event of note of which I write was our visit to the unparalled Mayan ruins of Tikal. To put it starkly, there is no other place like this in the world and if there were, it would be other Mayan ruins in the general area. I cannot put into words how cool this place is. Tikal is definitely a world class destination and on my very short list of must-see places in the world; Tikal rivals anything this world has to offer in terms of the combination of it's jungle setting, architecture and cultural history. The purple prose, "jungle haunted ruins" fits Tikal perfectly and being there is truly "romance put into action" as Prescott puts it talking about what motivated the Conquistadors to push into the valley of Tenochtitlan although nicely enough, visiting Tikal doesn't involve slaughtering and enslaving anyone at all. Having said such wonderful things about Tikal, this was my 3rd visit and I mostly went because I didn't want Kevin to miss it. I'd gone to Tikal in 1977 and 1979 with my buddy Joe the first time and his brother Chris the 2nd.

At that time and probably now as well you could sit in the main plaza at Tikal and see toucans flying around and monkeys running through the trees. In 1977 I was in Tikal for the 1st time when my buddy Joe and I were backpacking Central America. Joe and I had decided it would be fun to hide in the ruins at closing time and then spend the night at the plaza. Joe was such a terrific conversationalist that on the way to the ruins just before closing time he stopped to talk to these tourists and just would not shut up. I waited there on the trail for as long as I could but we had to get into the ruins before close or it would be more difficult to get in. I said fuck it and went on towards the ruins by myself. It was full dark and the dark of the moon as well and so I had a flashight. Suddenly there on the wide road before me, maybe 50 yards away is a full grown jaguar walking straight towards me in the glare of my light. The jaguar instantly went into the bushes at the side of the road but I could see it's eyes reflected through gaps in the leaves as it continued towards me.

Out of nowhere comes one of these forest rangers guards who works at the ruins. For whatever reason they were fond of pretending they didn't speak english but when I told this guy what I'd seen he grew so excited that he forgot himself and started chattering in English. He directed me onto another way into the ruins and there I hid til the ruins closed at 7. I hid myself on top of a wall on the north side of the plaza called the North Acropolis. When the last of the tourists and guards had left I emerged and was hanging out at the bottom of Temple 1 sometime later when I heard this distinctive coughing sound of a jaguar around the corner of the temple towards the back somewhere. Full of stories about how jaguars can be dangerous if they had cubs with them I went to the temple on the opposite side of the plaza, scurried up to the top didn't come down all night.

That temple, Temple II, has a broad platform that I could sleep on. I remember plenty of mosquitos and wrapping myself in my rain poncho as best I could to fend them off while I slept. The next morning I was again down at the base of Temple I at the crack of dawn on a morning when the fog was hugging the treetops. While sitting there this very slow motion cloud like a spiral descended down onto Temple II opposite me, partially engulfing it. It was one of the strangest things I ever saw. I suppose something about the temperature of that great pile of limestone as opposed to the surrounding air had something to do with that totally weird effect.

My back went out in Tikal. Only towards the end of Dec. in Rio did it finally straighten out. Tikal was alright to visit again. My 1st visit there since June, 1979, when Chris was along. They got themselves a paved road to Tikal. But we arrived in Flores by Aviateca 1st, $60 roundtrip, to find my old hotel, Pension Universal, partly underwater. The lake had risen quite a bit in 5 yrs., wiping out the dirt road that used to front the Universal, even half submerging small buildings on the San Benito side. (San Benito is on the mainland - Flores is an island connected to San Benito by a causeway.)

Tikal wasn't as awe inspiring as the first time of course, but it's still an incredible place in an incredible setting. We arrived in Flores Nov. 16 and left for Tikal early the next morning. Our 2nd night there I got permission for us to stay in the ruins til late. Dusk was good; I set up my tripod on the squat (Temple 2) pyramid and had Kevin operate it while I climbed the temple (Temple 1) opposite. I then flashed the interior with a red gel on the flash and scampered down the steps as fast as I could, flashing back over my shoulder every 5 or 6 steps. This was more dangerous than it sounds because the steps were smooth and slippery and the chain (it normally ran the length of the very steep steps to hold onto otherwise it was a long way down) that was usually there had been removed so all I had to hold were the metal uprights every 6 steps or so thru which the chain had been strung. To top it off it's dark and I'm trying to go down as fast as I can so I don't appear on the film. I did this again, then flashed the whole temple with the big flash, trotting as I went, working up a sweat, wearing only my gym shorts, feeling good. I think I'll have some great photos if the exposures turn out.

They had a new giant pyramid excavated in an area they called the "Lost World". Less than a week after we got caught in a tropical downpour on top of it, it collapsed from the recent rains. We stayed in the Jungle Lodge, or Posada de la Selva in spanish, for 5 Quetzals each.

San Benito had an excess of mud and prositutes. Mud clung to my shoes til it felt like I was wearing Frankenstein boots. The boats that ply between Flores and San Benito didn't run as often especially at night. Hope they're not a dying breed. We'd returned to Flores from Tikal in a cab, partly thru chance and partly because of my back, 8 Quetzals, pretty cheap. The bus there was 2 Q each.

We were getting about Q1.50 to the dollar so, for example, our room in Tikal was about $3.35 each. I can tell you this, it's not that cheap now. Those days are gone forever. Increased popularity has led to increased infrastructure and increased prices. In the 70's most of the foreigners who came through Tikal were backpackers and they were notoriously tight fisted with their money. The last time I'd been to Tikal in 1979 there was only a dirt road and those odd children's school busses that are used throughout Guatemala. Guatemala is still cheap however and there are still backpackers but there are a lot of middle class tourists nowadays and it's been that way since the mid 90's or so. Back in the 70's the only people you saw traveling Guatemala were backpackers. They actually had an airport right in Tikal til about 1978 but stopped the flights because of the effects of the vibrations on the ruins.

I have 2 stupid stories to tell about Tikal: the first is simply that all that work running up and down Temple 1 with the flash while my camera had it's shutter open on the opposite temple resulted only in a series of bright dots along the staircase and around the base of the temple. Some photographer. The 2nd story was much more serious and almost landed me in prison. I had been sure that there were no luggage inspections at the airport because we were traveling inside Guatemala and they hadn't done any of that in 1977 when I Joe and I flew from Flores to Guatemala City. On this occasion they put Kevin and I into a customs inspection area before I knew what was happening. Like a fool I had a bag of weed right on the top of my backpack so that it was the first thing one saw on unzipping the top. Had I known this would happen I could have easily stuck the weed in my pants or something. As it was I thought quickly right there in front of that soldier. I flipped open the top so that the contents were momentarily hidden from the soldier and scooped up some dirty socks and the bag of weed in one motion, holding it all to my nose and joking in spanish, "bad smell". Luckily he bought it and that was that but it was a near thing. Any attempt to hesitate and I would have been lost. I was very high on valium at the time; I was taking it cuz of my back and you didn't need a prescription. Valium was super cheap in Latin America and easy to get. I remember paying as little as 2 cents each and bringing several hundred home after a trip and selling them at 3 bucks a crack for start up money cuz I was always coming home broke. I must have the luck of the Polish.

We returned to Guatemala City n the 20th of Nov. It was pretty cheap because of the black market. $350 of the $450 I spent in Guatemala I changed at 147 or 148 Quetzals to the dollar. So smokes were 45 cents, our room at The Espana $2 each, movies a little over a dollar, city busses 7 cents.

On Nov. 11, before we went to Tikal, Kevin and I paid Q11 each for ringside seats and saw as goofy a wrestling match as you could hope for. Took my 6x7 and I think I got some good shots. On the 12th of Nov. we went to Antigua and came back to Guatemala City on the 15th.

On the 1st of Dec. I climbed Pacaya again hoping for better luck (for some lava displays like in 1983) , which I had but which was offset by my dumb decision to climb down the same day because not only was it an overly arduous trip to the highway but because what I thought would be a cloudy night turned clear. Maybe the dumbmest thing I did was to climb down to the active crater. The lava I had to cross wasn't that old and it was all cracked and crevassed. I never knew when a rock I was on would tip sideways or if the lava would hold my weight. Sometimes I'd be looking down at a crevasse at my side or crossing one that descended to unknown depths and emitted steam. I was scared. I couldn't see much in the crater other than that it was big and deep. Obscuring clouds of sulphurous smoke rose out of it but no lava was being thrown out of it. It was partly because of it's lack of activity that I decided not to pass the night on the cone. I wasn't going to freeze my ass off for a red glow that might be hidden in clouds anyways. Just my luck there was a clear, beautiful sunset accompanied by a gorgeous dusk. Worse, the last bus had already left and I ended up walking all but 2 or 3 km., which before I did would have seemed an unthinkable distance. Worse yet, the paranoid Guatemalans wouldn't stop for me cuz it was dark and they were afraid of robbery. So it took me over an hour to get a lift with the help of some guys who worked in a plant. A truck took me to the outskirts of Guatemala City and from there I took a cab. Boy did I ache! My back which had suddenly got better just an hour before I got to San Vincente Pacaya was back to it's bullshit after toting that pack those miles.

To show you how crazy I am, I went to climb that volcano with my back totally out; you know, when you have a muscle spasm and can barely get off the couch and you're walking all crooked over. On the bus going to San Vincent Pacaya from Guatemala City I had to lay flat on my seat to relieve the pain. It got better just then and I was able to climb up okay. Actually, the weight of my backpack seemed to help.

The other thing is about climbing down to that active crater which would have been death in 1983 cuz of the lava being thrown out. I don't know how far it was from the old crater across the new lava field to the crater for sure, maybe 70 to 100 yards, maybe more. I know this: it turned out to be so dangerous that when I was half way across I decided I had made a mistake. I also decided in looking back the way that I had come that it would be just as dangerous to go forward as to return so off I went leaping from safe place to safe place across crevasses of an unknown depth. The scariest part of that was when I would jump onto a piece of lava surrounded on all sides by cracks and when I landed the whole thing tilted. You're talking about a flat rock 15 by 10 ft and the whole thing is rocking. Lava is very porous and light and so weighs much less than solid rock of the same size. I still remember how cool and otherworldly it was as I made my way back down the lower slopes through the forest in the waning light that night. There are radio towers in the area that retransmit signals from the capital down to the lowlands. I was wearing my little Toshiba radio and the FM signal was clear over my little headphones as I listened to Prince and Culture Club on the descent.

After Kevin left Guatemala Gloria (the woman I'd met in 1983) and I got together and spent 2 evenings at Hotel Pan American, Q24, and one at mine (the Espana). We went to a store and I bought her stockings, a garter belt and a couple of bikinis. Hardly none of it fit but they were fun anyway. She's nice. Think I got some good flash shots at a fair that was taking place in Guatemala City. Tried like a fucker to get permission from the palace to buy a section of the giant relief map, Q25, of Guatemala but they're goofy and wouldn't let me.

The last thing Kevin and I did before he left was go to Solola, (overlooking Lake Atitlan). We arrived in time to catch a nice twilight over Lake Atitlan. Early the next morning we walked 2 or 3 miles down the descending road to the infamous Panajatchel (otherwise known as Gringotenango) before catching on of the poop-ass, cramped hearses back up.

My spanish came back pretty fast tho I probably didn't speak as well as '83. All in all a good time tho maybe too short and I fucked away my chance to climb Fuego Volcano and didn't get close to Santa Maria. Oh well! I can go back a fifth time.

And a 6th and 7th time as it would turn out. The way I missed out on an opportunity to climb Fuego was this: I was going to go up with a group of volcano enthusiast's from the Club Andenismo and on the morning I was to leave I realized I'd left my traveler's cheques receipts at the money changer's the night before. At that particular time in Guatemala you needed the receipts to show your cheques weren't stolen and I had to beg off the climb and get my ass down to the money changer's first thing rather than being away 2 days. Luckily the receipts were there but I never ever did climb the twins peaks of active Fuego and Acatenango. That view must be crazy fine.

I only had about 10 days to myself in Guatemala after Kevin left and I didn't do all that much other than my short affair with Gloria and climbing Pacaya again. I flew out of Guatemala City to Miami on Dec. 4th and got a flight to Rio the same day. Here's how that starts:

Arrived in Rio on Dec. 5 at 8 AM after a night flight out of Miami where I had to wait 10 or 11 hours. Changed enough money to take a cab, 28,000 Cruzeiros at 3100 Cz to the dollar, about 11 bucks, to the Hotel Turistico. Sure enough all the same faces were there as at the Amazonia. It was very good to be back. There were no mixed feelings about it; Rio was where all of me wanted to be, especially my ass which wanted away form the frigid hearts and weather. I'd been pining to be back.

My disproportionate passion for 8 Ball Deluxe suffered a slight setback as I found it to be, really, a different machine than the one stateside. The machine I've come to like is "Shark"; not that many people play and you can play 3 balls at once. On Dec. 9 I went to my 1st soccer match in a long time. It was the first in the playoffs for the city championship between Vasco da Gama, my Flamengo and Fluminese, (the big 3 of Rio de Janeiro though some would include Botofogo). I took some telephotos of the nutty fans and then watched Flu win 2-0 (over Flamengo). 93,000.

Met Karina after this and by the 12th we were kissin' cousins altho it was a couple weeks before we made love. The 12th (of Dec.) was the day we went to Flamengo-Vasco (at Maracana) and it was the neatest bus ride I ever had. It took a long time for us to get on the bus because we were too busy enjoying the newness of each other's kisses and caresses. The bus was full of merry soccer fans; every time the bus leaned way over going around a curve everyone would go "Whoaaaaaaaa!". They hurled laughing epithets at each other, at the driver, and at anyone outside the bus, especially anyone wearing a jersey of a team they didn't like. Once (now on the way back in the night), a couple kissing by a lamp post had the misfortune to have our bus stop for a light near them and so smilingly weathered an interlude of a good natured cascade of catcalls and hoots from the silly denizens of our bus. I was sure laughing a lot. When we passed a block long area where fish were being unloaded from trucks, everyone on the bus hurriedly shut the windows, I thought, because of the smell. Then a rain of fish hits the side of the bus and, while glimpsing the impish smiles of the men throwing the fish, I realize this is an ongoing game played out whenever the opportunity arises. Funny.

Whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! around the curves. The busride had something of the nature of an odyssey for me. The perfect end of such a ride is, of course, some one's naked butt looking at you as you step off the bus in the night. A transvestite was standing in front of me, his dress arranged in such a manner that his erstwhile breasts and big butt were on display for passing cars to view and thence possible to purchase. There were others milling about, one standing with his pants down around his ankles, wearing a black g-string and a small orange vest, open at the front, showing rather convincing breast. He was preening himself in a pocket mirror; others conversed among themselves.

At first I thought they were women, and some not so bad looking at that. Karina, the Dutch girl I was with couldn't believe they were men. A good day. Flamengo won 1-0. 67,000.

What can I say about Karina; we became very close in a very short time. She was from Holland and had classic Dutch features with great big eyes, a little pixie nose and very short dark red hair. She had a killer body with not an ounce of fat on it. The men in Rio were mesmerized by Karina and when we would sit in an outdoor restaurant guys would stare openly at her. I wondered how bad it was for her when I wasn't around.

I met Karina because she had a room at the Hotel Turistico where I was. She was on a rather long trip going around South America. Her and I and a couple of other tourists hung out together at first. One of those tourists (a guy from England named Joe) knew Karina before I did and you could tell he had the hots for her. One day when we were all standing around in the street in front of the hotel Karina said in front of him that she wanted to get to know me better and declared that she was going to hang around with me. The guy was miffed but what are you going to do. That's how Karina and I got to know each other and it was a wonderful thing because she was a wonderfu woman. Oddly enough, the first time Winnie ever saw me was when Andy and I were visiting Liz at her college downtown Minneapolis. Later on Winnie told me that she decided then and there that she was going to get to know me and wanted to hang around guys like Andy and I.

Karina had quite a sense of humor; one afternoon while we were walking together on the street she noticed a police car behind us and pulled down my gym shorts so that my naked ass was hanging out - that was Karina. She was smart as a whip too; Karina spoke 7 languages: Dutch, English, Italian, French, Spanish, Portuguese and Romanian. She worked for Michelin and traveled all over Europe writing reviews of hotels and whatnot for Michelin's books. I really loved that girl; we got along wonderfully and she was a really nice lover. I should have gone to Europe and married her.

On the 14th Karina and I went to a disco, but 1st we went to a stand up bar and got a little potted. My poor portuguese seemed to improve with a little chacaca. I had a great time that night; we danced and sweated our asses off. I met the girl Karina was renting from, (Karina had moved out of the Turistico to save money) Maria, who is nice looking and funny. Shortly after we left the light of dawn came.

The next night Karina, a skinny girl friend of Maria's, and Maria went dancing at a samba school named Portela. It rained all of a warm night and when I danced I rained sweat. Karina looked fine that night; the Brazilian guys were falling all over themselves to look at her. I remember how Maria and Karina oohed as I came down the stairs at the Turistico.

The Brazilian capacity for dancing the Samba is somewhat of a marvel. The place was packed and they were still going strong when we left around 4. We ate hot dogs in the rain and bussed home.

I don't know why Brazilians refer to these clubs as "Samba Schools" but that's what it is in portuguese, "Escola de Samba". These clubs each field an enormous number of floats and dancers and drummers during Rio's famous Carnaval which is Mardi Gras in the States.

Dec.15 was the day of the big final between Flamengo and Fluminense (what they call a "Superclassico") for bragging rights in Rio. The English guy Joe (who liked Karina), some other tourist, Karina and I left early cuz we heard it was going to be a big crowd. That was no lie; one hundred and fifty three thousand showed up and the ticket windows were a scene of struggling chaos, into which I quickly immersed myself, liking it really. The crowd was jammed in so tight that, once guys bought their tickets they couldn't leave the window. Some took to climbing on their bellies over heads and shoulders, one guy diving full on top of the crowd. Since nobody wants anybody climbing on their heads, the crowd passed the guys who wanted out over their heads spread-eagled, but then for a joke, when they reached the back they were thrown head first to the ground. I left on foot, thank you. Pretty silly stuff.

Next step: entering the gates, again notable for it's lack of space. The worst part was descending from the top of Maracana' to the balcony rail. It must have taken me half an hour cuz there was no aisle, just people. I'd lost Karina at the gates, figuring she'd have to go with the other 2 cuz I knew I'd have to move fast to get a seat. Luckily there were some spaces left in the 1st row. It was all pretty nuts what with the game ball being thrown out of a helicopter which buzzed around the stadium.

The introduction of the teams was quite a spectacle with the Flamengo fans definitely winning the edge for goofiness. Huge orange and black smoke bombs were set off which completely covered the crowd from view. Small fireworks shot into the air while talcum powder bombs and toilet paper rolls interlaced their trails accompanied by the monstrous and everpresent flags being waved about to the frenzied beat of the drums.

Some in the Fluminense section set loose a big, black buzzard which circled around and around the inside of the stadium, followed by a geyser of debris thrown by the roaring crowd. Finally it could fly no more and landed in the thick of the crowd. It shortly resurfaced in the form of a missile, hurled by it's legs 10 rows forward, and again and finally it reached the 1st row where without ceremony, it was tossed 30 ft. straight down onto the heads of the people below before they could scatter. The crowd seemed to throw more shit at each other than usual and full beer and cokes flying thru the air were much in evidence.

Both teams were nervous in the 1st half and Flamengo owned the second half but the Fluminense game of counter-attack won the day as they scored on a perfect crossing pass and header into the net, catching the Flamengo goalie flat footed. The Fluminense fans went nuts and stayed that way long afterwards as Fluminense paraded their trophy around the edge of the friendly (side) of the moat.

Karina was waiting at the hotel when I returned. She'd hooked up with some Brazilian and his kids and got a ride home afterwards.

The next night a Dane named Nina who also rented from Maria, Karina and I went up to Urca (Sugarloaf) to catch the samba show. 20,000 Cruzeiros.

On the 21st (of Dec.) Karina and I spent the night at the Hotel Vitoria and made love for the 1st time. She has a sexy torso.

X-mas Eve, Karina and I went to Copacabana to have dinner. While waiting for our meal we spotted Charles (Oooh! Hocky!), walking down the Avenida Atlantica (the avenue that fronts Copacabana Beach - we knew Charles from the hotel Turistico). Even tho neither Karina or I were exactly nuts about his company we figured it was x-mas eve so I went and flagged him down. Afterwards we 3 went to where Karina was staying (Maria's place) and snorted toot til dawn. Charles left and Karina and I watched the sun rise, totally strung out, from her balcony high over downtown Rio. We made love that night.

New Year's Eve! Karina and I bussed to the Av. Atlantica at about 5:30 so I could take some dusk shots of the Umbanda (a kind of voodoo magic religious thing) groups but nothing was happening so we sat at a cafe for awhile then walked around. I took a few rolls with the 6x7 and flash then caught a bus to the hotel so I could drop off my equipment for dancing. We sensed almost right away that leaving Copacabana might have been a mistake because traffic going there was slow and the busses were crammed. Sure enough when we tried to catch a bus they were so full they wouldn't even stop. What to do? It was 11 PM. (It was a very big deal to be in Copacabana for midnight) I flagged down a cab who wouldn't take us cuz the traffic was nuts. The 2nd cabbie was reluctant but agreed to take us to Copa for 15,000 Cz. The night was warm and all around us people were headed for the tunnel that opens onto Copacabana. The traffic was indeed nuts. The closer to the Tunnel Nova we came the slower it got til, several blocks away from the tunnel traffic came almost to a halt.

At 10 to 12 I told Karina I'd like to run for it as hundreds were now doing. We agreed to meet in front of the Meridian Hotel in case we were separated and off we go, running in between the cars, I stripping off my shirt.

9 min. to go - an exhilaration sets in as I realize how good it feels to run headlong in the warmth of evening with all those people - smiling - excited - racing to a second in time - wanting to pass that moment near the ocean where, in our minds the instant could be fully grasped.

7 minutes to go - I enter the New Tunnel to leave behind the old year and my flight takes on the aspect of a dream in that lit tunnel. I share what's on everybody's mind - will we make it in time? Towards the year we run; each moment is felt as they slip by as fast as I can fly.

4 min. to go - Karina is somewhere behind me and I'm running out of the tunnel into fresh air with 4 long blocks to go down Av. Princessa Isabel. I can't run as fast as I want to because jamming up in narrow spots between the cars make me slow up and it's a race to find the fastest route. People are standing on top of busses and those hand-held rockets are shooting into the dark sky in their triple bursts as I run the final block near to midnight.

A crescendo of noise and emotion - 30 sec. to 12 and I'm at the oceans door. Curiously an open space forms around me where not a square foot of space exists in the vicinity. I learn why as, at the stroke of 12, bursts of fireworks explode at the top of the Meridian directly above me and a cascade of sparks rains down it's side.

12 midnight - I'm alone in a 50 by 60 ft. space looking straight up - my sweaty exhaustion adds to my feelings of excitement as golden sparks fall towards me in slow motion and gleeful happy chaos explodes in shouts of people and car horns and crispy detonations of fireworks in other parts of the sky, up and down the avenue. I look back down the street in the direction from which Karina should be coming and there's her smiling face coming to me in the open space. I go to her and we're hugging under a shower of gold and there is something special about all that occurred, like the climax of a Steven Spelberg movie.

That moment of time is past, lost in the interwoven chain of instants that is drawn past us never to return. That is why those heartbeats that flew past me remain in beautiful memory. Their fleet quickness is their beauty.

Thru a struggling mass of people we go towards the ocean. Some minutes later we wander a strange landscape, (the beach) cratered like the moon and at the bottom of each bowl, candles - hundreds and hundreds of candles, accompanied by flowers, champagne glasses and other items, each a small obesiance to Iemanja, goddess of the sea. They say that on that 2 1/2 mile stretch of beach that night there were over 1 million people.

We had dinner at Maxim's and afterward made out way down Av. Copacana which was the strange scene of an utter traffic jam so long in duration that nobody was at the wheel of there cars, choosing rather to sleep or converse. At 3 AM it finally started to move as Karina and I lay beneath a X-mas tree pole on Princessa Isabel. Dawn broke when we were close to the Turistico.

Wow, what a great memory that is - it doesn't get any better than that and there is no one I would rather have shared it with than beautiful Karina. I hope everyone has memories and experiences like that in their life because otherwise what reason is there to be alive? I can still remember running in that tunnel with hundreds of people, everyone laughing and smiling and slapping the sides of busses and trucks and cars as they ran with complete joy and abandon towards the New Year. It fills my heart to bursting just to think of it.

Sugarloaf in Rio de Janeiro by James May

This is what Karina and I saw when we woke up

Several days later we passed the night up on Dona Marta. Everyone thought Karina and I were nuts to stay up there because we'd be robbed. I filled my pack and we took the Largo do Machado-Silvestre bus up and then walked up the last mile. It's fantastic to be able to go to such a forested, tranquil spot so close to a city with the population of Rio - and such a terrific view. Tourist's finally petered out around 12. We laid around, sometimes listening to the Toshiba's I brought. I remember Karina dancing by herself, whirling around the deck in the dark. Didn't go to sleep til about 2 or 3. I awoke to a magnificent sunrise and a horde of flying ants which engulfed the lookout. They were all over everything and made photography difficult. They probably only swarm once a year and moreover, if they would've moved 50 ft. in either direction we would've been out of them, so it was fairly pitiful luck.

Dona Marta is a lookout consisting of a large cement deck with a 4 ft. tall parapet of built of rock. It has the exact same but much closer view of Sugarloaf as one sees from Corcovado, the giant statue of Christ, as Dona Marta is directly below. People warned us that it wasn't safe to spend the night up there but I didn't care and I guess neither did Karina. Hanging around up threr all by ourselves with such an incredible view on a warm, perfect night was great. We had brought our sleeping bags with us so we were perfectly comfortable. It turned out that the mass of flying ants directly between me and Sugarloaf didn't affect my photos at all because they were totally out of focus with my lens focused at infinity. And Karina: what a gal, huh?

Karina and I on Dona Marta

Karina I and I the night we
slept on Dona Marta

On Jan.10 I got my longish hair cut - next day Karina and I left around 4 for Rock and Rio. There were busses right on Catete (Rua de Catete right next to my hotel Turistico) for 1,500 Cruzeiros. We got there around 6. We had to walk a long way to reach the gates that day. I'd had mixed doubt's about how much I'd enjoy seeing the bands at a distance if there were too many people to get close. At first I didn't think of trying to go up front from the side cuz I figured it'd be nuts there. So we entered right down the middle and watched Baby Consuelo from a distance. The thing that saved the concert for me was the ease of approacing the stage from the side. For that night and every night thereafter we were right up front. Iron Maiden was alright -Queen was great. The concert ran way late not ending til 3:30 AM, which was to be the case on future nights.

We had to walk a mile to the spot the 571 had left us but, surprise, no busses. Thousands of people were stranded. We laid on my ponch as the sun rose and watched packed busses go by. I decided to go find a bus around 6 AM and caught one right away. The situation was so bad I didn't even care where it went. Karina thought it would be a long walk finding a bus and stayed behind, arriving an hour after I did. I tranferred to a Rodaviaria (to downtown bus) and then, near Maracana caught a 434 Leblon to Catete. I passed up Al Jarreau, James Taylor and George Benson on the 12th and just slept all day.

On the 13th we went and saw Blitz, Nina Hagen, the Go-Go's and Rod Stewart. Didn't enjoy Stewart or even watch him cuz some dog of a Brazilian porra stole my Rock In Rio ticket, 20,000 Cz. and an unused of ASA 400 film. Fuck, was I pissed.

We skipped the 14th and on the 15th I went and bought a new ticket for the last 6 days for 70,000 Cz. Went by myself and got high for The Scorpions who I really enjoyed. Found Karina afterwards. We didn't bother to watch AC/DC and split.

The 16th we saw Ozzy Osbourne and Rod Steward. I skipped the 17th with Jarreau and Yes but went the 18th, meeting Karina there and saw The Go-Go's, B-52's and Queen. Karina came back to the hotel with me. She was wearing some really sexy underwear.

Went the 19th, meeting Karina there. I was in my 2nd day of a flu/cold so I watched Baby Consuelo, skipped Whitesnake and Ozzy and only watched half of The Scorpions. I was really sick of the rain and mud.

Rock and Rio, 1985: 10 days of mud and rain and chaos. This first ever Rock In Rio was a big deal in Rio and there was a big buzz for a long time before it started. The way it was set up was that half the bands would be popular Brazilian bands and half would be from outside Brazil - also, each band would perform twice.

The event was held in a giant open plot of ground way out in the suburb of Jacarepagua. They special city busses set up to go direct to the concert from all over the city; getting out was another matter. The delays between bands were really long and so the end of the shows on any given night was in the middle of the night and it was every man for himself when it came to getting back into city. The crowds ranged from 60,000 to 250,000 and it was nuts and beautiful and great. My favorite set were those by Queen. It was raining for one of them and I had my rain poncho held up and as many people squeezed under it as possible. It was great because the Brazilians knew the words to every single song and sang them out loud. Karina and I were in the front for every single band. Getting through the middle but just going around the side and then sliding into the middle right in front of the stage was surprisingly easing.

What I remember is Karina dancing all by herself one night when we spread my poncho on the ground away from the crowd to take a break. At that time in Rio it was considered extremely vulgar for a woman to use the Brazilian curse word "porra". One night when we were once again laying on my poncho taking a break away from the crowd, a young man walked by and as usual just openly stared at Karina the whole time he was walking passed. Karina was laying on her side with her head propped on her hand and looked this guy right in the eye and said "porra". This guy's face instantly goes red and he looks away with just the funniest look of embarrassment. I was laughing so hard that I drew the attention of a uniformed security guard and his flashlight cuz he was certain I had to be smoking something.

I remember Freddy Mercury singing the ballad "Love Of My Life" while the crowd of tens of thousands sang along in a soft rain with Karina by my side.

Rock In Rio was rain and rain and mud and more mud; it was a total burnout and 6 nights of the 10 consecutive nights were all I could manage. I remember Baby Consuelo, who I liked and was very popular in Brazil performing very, very pregnant with a short silver dress with the stomach cut away. Nina Hagen was really good.

Whenever anyone was moving through the crowd you were liable to have your daypack cut or unzipped instantly if it was behind you. The night my ticket was stolen my daypack got drug to the side and they had that thing unzipped instantly. Lucky for me all they got was my ticket cuz I had camera lenses inside. Just before that occurred some guy tried to take advantage of Karina and she smacked him right on the jaw. Karina was actually very sweet and gentle and loving but she didn't take any shit from anyone. She was very independent and I never worried about her. The entire affair was absolutely fucking nuts; one would leave for the venue around 4 and not get back til dawn; that was why it was so hard to go on consecutive days.

Sun. - Jan. 20, 1985 After sleeping away most of the day I awoke feeling like shit. Left the hotel just before 7 PM and walk down Catete (my wonderful, plain, ordinary, magical Rua de Catete) to play Shark but 3 other people were playing and my first 3 balls drained so I tilted it and left. Ate steak at the end of Catete then bussed to Gavea and saw "Rear Window" (they were having an Alfred Hitchcock retrospective at different theatres all over town). Sick the whole time.

Mon. - Jan. 21, 1985 Woke early for a change and brought in some laundry. I wanted to go to Copacabana to try and get a press pass for Carnaval but thought I'd sleep the day away and try to rest off what was left of my cold since, altho I felt better, I still wasn't up to doing too much running around.

At 6 PM Karina and I went out to Sao Conrado to the Hotel Intercontinental to watch a video tape (on a big screen) of the Super Bowl which The American Society of Rio de Janeiro flew down. We paid 5,000 Cz. each and entered a big room chock full of Americans. It was weird to be in a place where everyone spoke English. It was a match up of the 2 best teams of the season; it was my American fix. They had great food - I had a hamburger, spaghetti, potato salad, chocolate cake - yum-yum. Walked Karina to the steps (which led way up to her place in Gloria) and went to my sky blue room and got high and listened to Prince.

Tues. - Jan. 21, 1985 Still didn't feel too hot when I awoke so I laid in bed til mid-afternoon then dressed in pants (a rarity) and white shirt for my visit to the place where I would try to get a press pass for Carnaval. 1st I changed $100 at 3,750 to the dollar. (If you're paying attention, the exchange had gone thru the roof in the last 2 years)

Chris Wallace (an English ex-pat) was the man I had to see and he turned out to be extraordinarily helpful. Without much ado he practically guaranteed me credentials which would also include access to a number of the big balls. Fuck was I happy.

By 6 I still had no appetite. Hope I feel batter tomorrow. The State are having a tremendous cold snap with record lows in many cities, especially the Southeast, -80 degree windchills in Chicago and here in Rio I can hardly stand to wear jeans cuz of the heat.

I must've lost a lot of weight cuz the newer pair of jeans which were so tight when I left are very loose now. I'm sure being sick these last 5 days has made my weight lower than it would have been otherwise. I'm glad I'm here. The main thing I'd be doing at home is freezing my balls off.

Karina came to the hotel around 7:30 PM. We ate at the Amazonia then went to the Ewok movie near Largo do Machado. I was kept awake til 5 AM by a montrous earache so I only got an hour's sleep.

Writing "I'm glad I'm here." was a huge understatement. I'd been on a non-stop whirlwind of activity til I finally got slowed down by my cold after Rock In Rio. In truth I was ecstatic to be in Rio again and I was having as much fun as ever. This was a much busier and more social time for me than 1983 thanks to meeting Karina who was huge fun to be around. Karina was up for any and everything and I loved that about her; the fact that she was a totally hot chick didn't hurt. Lacking any grace whatsoever when it came to the weather in the states, the colder it was back home the more I liked it. This time in Rio at the beginning of 1985 was as happy a passage as any I've had in my life - thankfully, there have been many like it. It's hard to describe what it's like - everything seems better, brighter and I feel more alive, doing what I was meant to do which is to be out there in the world and grabbing all the experiences I could. But that happiness also included quiet time; the whole purpose of staying so long in Rio was so that I could have days where I did virtually nothing and it didn't hurt the trip one bit.

Wed. - Jan. 23, 1985 Woke at 6 AM, had breakfast and when I came out from the breakfast area into the lobby Karina was waiting for me. We bussed to the Rodaviario (main long distance bus station) and were soon on our way to Teresopolis. We ascended into the clouds. Teresopolis is, to me, rather unremarkable in itself. Whatever qualities it possessed would have to remain a secret til tomorrow cuz, at 11:30 AM, after having eaten, I felt too tired (still sick) to do any climbing so we went to out neat hotel and napped. We had a nice bout of lovemaking then walked to the bus station for a map. We played a little Shark and returned to the Novo Hotel and fell asleep around dusk. We awoke, I about 11, Karina earlier and went down a few doors and ate a nice dinner. Karina slept and I started in on "A Case of Conscience" (by James Blish).

I think Karina and I were still a little burned out by Rock In Rio and all the stuff we'd been doing before that. The thing I liked about Karina is that, although she was always up for an adventure no matter how arduous, she also could be pleasant to just be around when nothing in particular was happening. Karina was a woman who knew very well how to entertain herself and so there was never any question of me worrying about being too boring or having to entertain her to keep her happy. We were both very happy to be in Rio and with each other and that was plenty as far as I was concerned.

Thur. - Jan. 24, 1985 Woke at 10:30 to the same grey bullshit and rain that helped screw our 1st day here. Personally I wasn't interested in watching it rain in Petropolis (where we were thinking of going), so we were on the 11:30 AM bus to Rio. It rained there all day and night. We stayed in. From 6:30 til almost 10 we made love. We caught the 10 PM showing of "Ice Pirates" at Largo do Machado 1 which had some pretty funny parts, especially at the end when there was a fight scene in accelerated time.

While we were inside I was sort of mad at Karina for having said some dumb shit about me being rude for not holdng open the door at the Amazonia for her. Then she brought it up again in the room. To get back at her I had her sit up on her heels when she was wearing nothing but her little white, bikini panties and bound her wrists behind her back and had her sit like that for a while as I kissed her lips and breast. Then I made love to her (she loved it).

Fri. Jan. 25, 1985 Basically did nothing all day cuz it was grey and wet. I went out in the late afternoon and played pins and ate at the Amazonia. Took pictures of Karina in her white then lace undies. Karina liked what we'd done the night before and so we made love til very late. Later, at 1:30 AM we went to the Taberna da Gloria (right next to the Hotel Turistico) where I had lasagna and a milkshake and Karina had an omelette.

Sat. Jan. 26, 1985 Karina woke me with love. She was dressed to leave wearing a mini skirt, black t-shirt and little red bikini. We made love without her removing a thing while she sat on top of me. She left, I slept til late. Bought a Daily Post (my old favorite english language paper from 1983 though I now read the local Journal Do Brazil much more now), ate at Mc's, got a cassette of the Simone and of my Baby Consuelo vinyl for Karina. Went to Maracana' to see Fluminense and Santos kick off the Taca de Ouro (national league). The crowd was nothing to speak of so I'll not speak of it. Santo, Paulista (Sao Paolo) Champion of 1984 and 9th best team of the 1984 Gold Cup (Taca de Ouro), took a 1-0 lead at the half, but Fluminense gave them little chance to build on it, scoring the equalizer 4 min. into the 2nd half. They made it 2-1 later and that was it. Picked up Karina at her place on the way back and we brought all her shit to my hotel. Ate at the Taberna at 2 AM while Karina slept.

So Karina leaves for Santiago (Chile) tomorrow and I am sure I will miss her. In recent weeks we've been constant companions. We did some neat shit together. I am rather sad she's leaving. Got a funny card from Winnie today. She says it's cold thar. So now I'll be alone again but hopefully not lonely.

Sun. Jan. 27, 1985 So, Karina left today in the rain. I was sad when the time came. She was sort of mad that I slept til it was time for her to leave but I thought she'd be busy cuz I didn't fall asleep til she ran off on some errand. Earlier we'd made love and talked. We went to the station and hugged and kissed and I lingered as long as I could. I wanted to cry on the bus to the hotel; there are tears in my eyes as I write this. When I went to the hotel I found the jokester had stuck me (insisted she pay me which I had refused) with the 35,000 Cz., half of the last Rock In Rio ticket, as she promised. Oh well, I'll send her a present from the U.S. I unwrapped the album she'd left me - it was the 1985 Samba Schools album (every year an album is put out of each Samba School's theme song for that year).

I am missing her very much, and there is sadness in my heart. We had good times together. Bye, Karina.

Shortly after dusk I played Shark and ate at the Amazonia. Watched highlights of all the (soccer) games played.

Dear Porra, by the time you get this I sit in an awful bus next to a terrible asshole without talking, music or sex. I hope I'll make it until Chile. Maybe your book (I'd given her a book) will help me to come the time through. Have a good time in Rio, don't get too wild with Carnaval and write once in a while to Holland. Love, Karina.

I had a good cry in my room that evening - the tears I'd fought to hold back as I watched her bus pull out of the Rodoviaria and on my bus ride home. I never saw Karina again though we talked on the phone a few times and exchanged letters for a year or 2. I have very fond memories of our time together out of all proportion to the 6 weeks we knew each other. I think that in another situation, we would have stayed together a long, long time. In preparing this manuscript in 2009 I found a picture or 3 of her on the web and she still has the same haircut. I am trying to find her email address so I can talk to her once more. There was definitely a hollow, empty spot inside me when Karina left. I think that's love.

Mon. Jan. 28, 1985 Woke late as usual, too late to follow up on the press pass. Ate at Mc's, mailed letters to Andy, Winnie and Jim Battis (a very good friend of mine from college and the man who would some day change my life for the better). Also mailed my high-speed films to Battis from Rock In Rio.

It's still hard to believe Karina's not going to come and visit. I hadn't realized how attached I'd become to her. Our shortness of time together was part of it's beauty. I wonder if I'll ever see her again. We sure laughed together a lot.

I played a lot of Shark into the night. We had 5 min. of sun for the 1st time in 5 or 6 days, but in the evening it drizzled. Neither hot nor cool today. Today is the 81st day of my vacation. My back felt today as if it's almost back to normal. I feel like I'm at a crossroads of sort, between events in my life. I'm getting all of Rio I wanted, satisfying the itch to be here again and know how it feels to live in a foreign city, satisfying the urge to not let life pass me by and perhaps satisfying the longing to escape the people who hurt me so. (from here I go on a long bitter general diatribe but I clearly had Linda in mind when I wrote it. I was so happy to be out of MPLS) At 11:30 I left in dark elation (from the venting/writing) for the Amazonia. Wrote more barbs far into the night.

Tues. - Jan. 29 Some blue sky at last. Went to Copacabana and gave Chris Wallace my application for a press pass. I'm in, he says, hurray! Ate at Mc's. Picked up letters for Karina and, after changing at the hotel, mailed them to Lima for her. I wonder how she is. She arrived in Santiago today, after a 70 hr. bus ride. I hope she is well. Napped in the evening. Went to the Amazonia in the rain at 10:30. Finished of "A Case Of Conscience".

Wed. - Jan. 30, 1985 Went to sleep after dawn. Woke late. More fucking rain. Give it a break already. Ate at Mc's. Mailed Tom and Winnie cards. Decided not to mail Kevin's mags, too expensive. Napped. Went to the Amazonia at 10:40 - drizzle. Watched "The Dirty Dozen" downstairs in the lobby.

I have not mentioned that my room at the Turistico this time around was down in the main structure of the hotel on the 2nd floor rather than up on the 4th terrace in a semi-detached room like in 1983. It didn't matter to me. Getting that press pass for Carnaval was a huge deal for me and one of my main goals while in Rio. It meant I would have 100% access to the street where the parades were held.

Thur. - Jan. 31, 1985 Arose late and went to Copacabana and changed a couple of hundred bucks. Paid 34 days of rent up til today (Although I don't mention the price it was pretty much the same as last time, about $3.50 - and I did the same trick of paying only after as many days as possible because the dollar kept going up against the Cruzeiro and so the longer I waited to pay the cheaper my room was). Went to the opening of a photo exhibit about Carnaval - strictly average. Went from there to see "Purple Rain". Not a bad flik. I've come to like the music, especially, "Let's Go Crazy" and "Purple Rain", the latter of which has been pretty popular on the radio in Rio. I also like "Take Me With You" and "I Would Die 4 U". I really like a song they air here called "Ebony Eyes" (Rick James).

I fell asleep shortly after I came back. Woke a couple of hours later. Stayed up all night, mostly reading George Orwell's "1984". Really good book. Went out before 3 AM and had a chocolate malt and got a can of pop. It was daylight for awhile before I slept.

Saturday 1-19-85 Hello you tepid bastard. I got your lovely letter today and see you are still my same favorite guy. Thank you for the letter. I've been going back trying to figure out dates and how long it takes for something to get down there, 10 days.

Dear Jim, hi I am working on this tape right now (music she sent me). So I have to keep getting up to change the song. Yesterday I got the postcard that you sent and I just dug all around in my writings to find the day I got your big letter - it was the seventh, a week and a half ago.

I am just guessing on this Patsy Cline stuff, what I didn't send you before. I don't think too much is duplicates. The rest should be fun for you I hope. I just finished the Patsy Cline stuff, I don't know what to put after, the first side's all done. I'm not going to try and work on it and write any more.

You would be so pleased to hear that it is 25 degrees below. It really is pretty unbearable. I'm glad it is the weekend and I have Monday's off for awhile too so I don't have to deal with it too much. I have a chest cold that verges on pneumonia and have had it for 7 days - but I made it to all my classes and worked every day - and stayed up til 4:30 working on a project Thursday night for an 8:00 critique on Friday.

God I am almost too spacey to write this. I guess I could say again my summer plans, you might be interested, I am moving to the West Bank on June 1st with Lynn and somebody undecided else. (on the side of the page this) Lynn called her girlfriend; it sounds good - she said: "Now I have something to look forward to." We'll have to talk to her more. We are going to look for a whole house so we can have up and downstairs and so we can have parties. Busses are okay there and we intend it to be cheap. We can make ourselves the workspace we need. Lynn and I will make good roommates I know because we are both considerate and live a similar life. We also like to do projects together. I am looking forward to the change.

What we really have to do then is sublet my room to someone for June and July because I can't stick too close too town - although I will probably be in and out of town - I might pay part rent anyway - we can't wait til August to move because if we do we will both have to move twice and that isn't sensible. Lynn knows a girl who lives at home who would probably appreciate some time away from the folks without a compete move - she's in school and can't afford to move out but maybe she will want to for 2 mos. just for a place to go.

I have a lot of ideas about this summer but I can't know this early about money. I'm worried about my damage deposit and it looks like it might be difficult to save even though I'm already making changes in the way I spend money in the hopes of saving. And I'm trying to work more hours. Luckily I have almost no text books or supplies to buy this semester.

Boy when it's cold like this the airplanes sure sound weird. Mostly now it looks like I won't be able to take a long, two-month road trip. Because I don't think anyone would or could go with me and because they would have to have a good car and because I don't really have enough money to go far. I am looking at trying to find Barb Huste's address who has my teepee in Wisconsin so I can spend a few weeks there, and finding out if a friend of mine who experienced interest really wants to go to the Boundary Waters, which I've never been to, and we could surely get a gang to go for a week or two - those are my two main leads but Lynn also says she would take a bus to Taylor's Falls with me for a week. Also, my aunt in Seattle is a travel agent and wants me to visit her - she can probably get me cheap air fare - if so, I would go - it's been awhile since I've been there - I'm writing her as soon as I get done w/ this letter. Anyway I just called Lynn and she said she was going to call her girl friend who might sublet from me and call me back and she must have gotten hold of her because it's been long enough for me to go back through my Madamoiselle's and find seven lingerie catalogs to send away for.

Ha Ha Ha, only I just added them up and it would be $15, which I do not have and if I did I should go buy underwear not catalogs, you wouldn't believe though, the other day I went to Dayton's (department store) to pay my bill and on my way through the lingerie dept., ha ha, I found, no kidding, a $25 black lace teddy for 65 cents. No kidding, it had been marked down about 6 times and was finally 1/3 off of 97 cents! I thought it was hilarious. I also bought a nice pink camisole to go with a pink slip that I got for a buck at Ragstock, but the camisole was $5. Okay but not hilarious. Anyway the one thing I would really die for is a corset that laces up the back, but I didn't want to see one in a catalog because then I would buy it and that wouldn't be too cool for my budget.

Yes, I've been so busy dusting off my garters I just don't have time for much else Jim. They're just lying there, so limp and everything, you know, shoved to the back of my drawer, out of sight, out of mind and all that - kind of lonely looking, well definitely lonely - looking. You'll have to help me beat the dust out of them sometime. Ho ho ho.

Enough, sorry. I took another break and stuck some more on the end of this tape. Right now we are taping Christmas card form a Hooker in MPLS, more good humor FOR YOU. Don't know what will fit after this, probably "Foreign Affairs" will fit. So that's on now - hope it doesn't get cut off, then this tape will be finished. Then I'm going to listen to the first 1/2 w/ headphones on and imagine I'm you - then the Patsy Cline will be first when you get the tape 'cause you like that best.

So - Jim - if you haven't cut your hair yet, please don't for me, you know I have a deep erotic fascination with long hair and always have, of course knowing knowing that you will probably shave your head just before you come back out of spite so I probably shouldn't have told you.

I'm having a lot of fun writing this letter Jim and I really enjoyed your descriptions of the crowds in Rio - I laughed really hard about the fish thrown at the bus and the way everyone yells at each other. You sound so happy and satisfied and I'm glad you're doing what you want. Congratulations on your show at MIA (Minneapolis Institute of Arts) - we'll be there. You are becoming "somebody" and I know it's inevitable.

I'm listening to this panther burns (rock band) in the middle of this side - it's the only good tune they put out that I've heard and I think somebody else's tune. All the Ray Campi's (rockabilly guy) are his though. I have three of his records which I got for a buck apiece in the basement of Lake St. Wax - you know Lynn works at Lake St. Wax now, upstairs, she gives me a deal on stuff sometimes. I went and watched part of 9 to 5 on TV w/Liz and AJ (Andy). Now I am listening to Bob Dylan Blood On the Tracks. George (the cat) is sleeping in my sock drawer. I put a sweater in there for him.

I like all my classes. InSystem and series w/Rebecca Alm we are doing one subject of our choice presented in different ways all semester. I am doing mine about steel leghold traps (Winnie hated animal cruelty). It's great. And I like having Native Americans World Views with Sharon Morrissey in my class, she's Swell Company. So school feels really right to me. Tuesday I have 4 classes in a row, it is a 13 hour day, but nothng on Monday, and the other days are 1 or 2 classes and work in the aft. also thurs. morning. Work is cool. I get to look at a lot of cool books all the time - what more could I ask for.

I don't know what to write. I've only been skiing twice, I haven't been skating, I don't know when I will. I think I'm going dancing on the 2nd Feb. because there's an opening of old masters at MIA and first there's an orchestra and then THE WALLETS which haven't played anywhere for months. God it's been hopeless for shows since Los Lobos and before. There is this new rockabilly band, they're great, The Sharps, which I caught 5-6 songs of real early opening at 1st Ave. one night before anyone was there and I guess they've played the Entry (7th St. Entry below the 1st. Avenue Club) and The Uptown (bar) but I didn't catch any of it and not lately and anyway the Entry's been closed for weeks for remodeling. Anyway as a student I can get into this Wallets show at MIA for 5.00; they have food and stuff and I can get decked out in my Norma Kamali B&W check taffetta shirt and two of my best friends at school are going which why I decided to go. Bob Dylan sez - YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME LONESOME WHEN YOU GO. Out of room. Might add more. G'night Winnie.

Fri. - Feb. 1, 1985 Didn't get out of bed til dusk. Bought a Daily Post, ate at Mc's. Watched the 1st 20 min. of 2001 in the lobby, dashed off to see, "The Last Starfighter". Not too hot. Rain again when I came out at midnight.

Sat. - Feb. 2, 1985 Woke around mid-afternoon, boy my hours have sure been screwed up since I arrived. Daily Post, Mc's, hotel. Finished off "1984" - rain.

Sun. - Feb. 3, 1985 Went downstairs at 2:30 PM, hit Mc's and my 3:30 I was on the ol' Graujau-Leblon 434 to Maracana' Stadium, crowded as usual. The heat of the sun made me sweat a lot. Most people sought shade. I took photos of the flag wavers and drum beaters. Got some nice photos at dusk, especially when Flamengo was kind enough to convert a penalty right when the dusk was perfect. Flamengo dominated the game from the start. It could have been 2 or 3-0 at the half but it was 1-0, Flamengo. The Corinthians were lifeless most of the game. Final, 2-0 Flamengo who are 2-0-1. I had a good time. Very warm night and no fucking rain. Had a couple of slices of good, thick pizza on the way back in Praca Floriano on Av. Rio Branco. I like Rio. I should go visit Maria (Karina's Brazilian friend and roommate) and go to Portela with her.

Rio's weird. There's always shit smeared on the sidewalks, people sleeping on the streets cuz they have no homes, garbage here and there, bad smells, goofy bus drivers, 200% inflation, beach and football worshippers, high rises, car exhausts, intense sun, samba, Chopp (Brazilian beer).

Watched soccer replays, I guessed 50,000 at Maracana and it was 52, wrote a letter to Karina in Lima. I'm glad to be in South America, wish I had more money.

Mon. - Feb. 4, 1985 Sunny and hot - somewhere between 97 and 104 degrees depending on which street clock you looked at. I go up around 10. I brought in some laundry and bought my new favorite football rag; Journal Das Sports. The streets were baking. I bussed to Leblon to hit he beach. Crike! was it packed. I didn't stay too long cuz I didn't want to burn up again. Came back at 2:45 but instead of mailing letters and taking in the Bresson show at the Museum Of Modern Art I napped til 5. At 5:30 I went to take photos of the big water fountain at the end of Rio Branco. I shot it with a yellow filter and blue screen (on the flash) and with a yellow filter and blue screen. It started to rain just before dusk so I had to quit. I had a thick slice of Mr. Pizza and walked home in a drizzle. It seemed like every other person I met wanted a cigarette. Warm evening. Better than freezing my ass off doing nothing in Minnesota. Went to Ipanema for a 9:30 showing of "Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence". Good flik, some excellent scenes, better than "Chariots of Fire". Ate at Mc's.

Tues. - Feb. 5, 1985 Woke at 9 but lay in a stupor for awhile and didn't get downstairs til 5 to 10, just in time for breakfast. Very sunny and hot, but not like yesterday. I spent the day shopping, mostly for science fiction to read. I walked the length of Leblon and Ipanema and deep into Copacabana. Found Randy (my brother) a Rock In Rio shirt for 12,000 Cz. (about $4), bought "Caves Of Steel" for 6,900 Cz. (Amazon).

When I returned to the hotel at 3:15 there was this card from Chile. It was nice to get such a card and hear from Karina. I also got a good letter from Thom Barry (my gallery). He sold a photograph of mine and included a letter from Jim Dozier (Film In the Cities gallery curator) saying he was getting a photo from Thom because FITC had sold the entire benefit show to Cray Research, which suggests that FITC sold at least 1 of 2 11x14 I gave to their sale. I can't remember the exact price I charged, at least $150 and 30% of that is $45, so my money problems, what with wanting soccer shirts, sweaters in Bolivia, Peru, seem to be solved. I should have access to enough money to make going back okay financially. Now all I need is a $5,000 grant from The Minneapolis College of Art and Design's Emerging Artist's Grant of FITC's grant. Ho-ho!

I dozed lightly in favor of seeing the Bresson show. At 6:30 PM I returned to finish photography at the fountain. Afterwards I went to visit Maria who threw her arms around me at the door. We talked on her balcony for awhile. She was so hot (to trot) that she wanted me to wait 2 1/2 hrs. in her place til she got back from Copacabana on some chore. I didn't want to wait that long. She'll keep. I'm to meet her at the beach tomorrow. I want to see what she looks like in a bikini. She's sure pretty enough, with those full lips she reddens with lipstick...um. Ate at the Amazonia with today's Placar (soccer mag).

Santiago 31 Jan. - '85 Dearest Jim, I miss you and wished you were here with me walking in the streets of Santiago. Yesterday I arrived at two o'clock. The first night I slept more or less well, ok at least I could lay down but at Porto Allegre the bus filled up so the two other nights resulted in a stiff neck and legcramp. To pass the Brazilian-Argentine border took 4 hours, from 1 til 4 in the night, because the name of Senorita K de Paepe was not on the list and so she could not enter Argentina! If the Brazilians have a bit of time left besides samba and football it would be a good thing to follow a course in organization! Finally the bus could go, with me, and you can imagine that the Chilean were glad with this foreigner. Santiago is quite interesting but I only stay here until tomorrow. Another 60 hours straight to Lima! I want to go home now, I don't enjoy it anymore, travelling alone. Jim, I wish you were laying besides me. I really miss you. Lot's of love, Karina.

In writing this I became curious about whatever became of Karina as I had not been in contact with her for many years. I found that she was living in the Netherlands, married and with 2 children. We have been exchanging emails; I hope Karina is very happy.

Wed. - Feb. 6, 1985 When I awoke this morning and saw that it was cloudy I figured Maria wouldn't go to the beach. It became sunny around 12:30 and I went to the beach at 2 but no Maria. I laid there and started "Caves Of Steel". Today is my 90th day away from Minneapolis. After 4 I walked to the Museum of Modern Art to view the large Henri Cartier Bresson exhibition there. I was very impressed with the images. I was familiar with some of the more famous photos but there were a lot of really good ones I'd never seen before. It was a shot in the arm and intensified my desire to bring my Leica to Indonesia. Because of the size of the body and lenses I could have it with me all the time and that way be bound to bring back some good work. Even if I don't get a finder, I'll bring it and use the 35mm and 50 with the 90mm for portraits. I can't wait to do some black and white. People like Bresson are valuable teachers. It'll be a challenge to do something new. I should take a portrait of Maria's family. I could make some nice 11x14's for her and have a nice document. Napped awhile then went to that place at the end of Catete for a nice steak. Up til late as usual.

Thur. - Feb.7, 1985 Woke in the mid-afternoon on a sunny day and went to visit Gondim. (Gondfim was a retired Brazilian air force guy who lived at the Hotel Turistico as did quite a few Brazilians in those days.) We talked for awhile and then I went to Riotur to get a list of Carnival events. I showered and put on my jeans and brought my camea gear to Maria's to visit and take some shots off her balcony (got some nice shots of downtown Rio at dusk as her balcony is high above centro in what is in places a very hilly city). Maria was very tired when she came home 20 mins. after I arrived. Still, she was in a good humor even tho she was pissed off that there was a leak in her ceiling that the landlord didn't want to fix. I had sort of planned on taking a walk with her on the Passeio (a street fronting a park on the edge of downtown not far away), leaving my equipment and coming back for it after Flamengo-Palmeiras and having something romantic happen. Instead I left my gear at the hotel and went to Maracana.

The first half was fairly boring with almost no chances for either team even tho Flamengo dominated. Flamengo missed 2 chances on one penalty (9 out of 10 penalty shots beat the goalie) - the crowd didn't believe it. Flamengo dominated the 2nd half even more, finally getting a gol deep into the half. I never saw the gol cuz I was watching some minor riot in the stands. Oh well, Flamengo 1, pesky Palmeiras 0.

When I went downstairs today there was a package for me in my box. The return address said "I like Pac-Man coloring contest". I opened it and inside was an old paperback which smacked of Kevin right away. It was about Princess Elizabeth (of England) and her sister growing up, written by their old governess, Marion Crawford. On the back of the paperback is written in odd, stilted printing: Dear Crawfie, thank you very much for the lovely box of buffin books. With love from Margaret." Since there is no letter I'm going: what the fuck is this? Luckily the manager's back was turned cuz when I paged thru the pb I see there's a secret compartment cut out with something wrapped in plastic and dusted with talcum powder. It was good too.

I'm to go to the beach with Maria Sat. Can't wait to see what she wears. Hope she's got some sexy tanga's (tiny Brazilian panties). Great anticipation. I can see her laying on her stomach wearing nothing but an up the ass tanga. Fuck!

So I'm a typical guy - what can I say. This journal was never meant to be seen by anyone. That package was indeed from Kevin and it had some weed inside. One corner had been torn open by customs and how in the world they interpreted the talcum powder liberally sprinkled inside for some reason only Kevin knows, to fool drug sniffing dogs I guess, I'll never know. The fact that customs didn't catch on saved me a stretch in jail or being booted out of the country. Kevin, in that one act of stupidity which I knew nothing about, almost fucked me good. I never asked him to send me weed and he never communicated anything to me about it. Hell, I almost opened the whole thing in front of the hotel manager. I would have told him not to do it - too dangerous. Just another example of dumb luck. Nevertheless, there was nothing for it but to put the weed to good use.

Fri. - Feb. 8, 1985 Left around 3 for Largo Carioca area (downtown) to find a Flamengo shirt. 1st visited with Gondfim for awhile. Went to t-shirt city to shop around, bought a Taj Mahal towel and a t-shirt. Went to Largo do Machado to see "The Pope of Greenwich Village" - really enjoyed it.

Sat. - Feb. 9, 1985 Maria was to pick me up at the hotel before noon on the way to the beach but she never showed so I split by myself to the end of Copacabana Beach. Didn't see Maria there. I laid there and sweated it was so warm. My skin is finally at the point where I don't burn. I'm pretty dark after today. Ate at Mc's in Largo de Machado on the way back. Showered, laid around, dozed. At 9:15 I split and played a little Shark then went to see "Tender Mercies". Good flik. Saw Joe (the English guy I met at the Turistico when I met Karina) on the way out and we ate at the Amazonia. I wrote to fish (nickname for a South Minneapolis childhood friend) and make another "goof" letter for Liz.

As often as not my letters to people back home were eccentric in that I would draw weird shit all over the envelope in ball-point pen. This "goof" letter I referred to I must've done when I was high. I tore the paper and then put transparent tape on it and burned one or two parts with a cigarette. I wrote it in large childlike print like I was brain injured or something.

Sun. - Feb. 10, 1985 Woke about 1:30 but didn't stir out of my room. Sunny day - mid 90's - very warm. Went to Mc's then tried to catch the 434 (for a game at Maracana') but the 1st one to pass was loaded. I had to kick open the door to get on cuz the guys at the back were holding the door shut. What can I say about the game? Flamengo kicked Botogfogo's ass and lost 2-1. Porra! Lazed around my room afterwards til 10:30. Ate at the Amazonia. Hot night, lazy day.

Sometimes I lay in my little blue room and wonder what it would be like to live in Rio - with an income . Certainly the woman are a major attraction. I think I could have all I want if I weren't so ungregarious. It's not that I don't like being with people a lot but I'm real lazy about maintaining friendships. I need someone like an Andy, Winnie or Karina to crack my shell. I like to and could have lots of friends but I guess it's something I have to work on and if it's like a job sometimes then I get lazy. A lot of stuff I do on impulse and usually not just because I should do it. I'm not very disciplined; if I was I'd have more money from my photography. I usually don't try and acquire more money than I need for some particular thing at the time.

Living in Rio would be nice I think. I should try to get a job with Manchete (Brazilian magazine) or some other mag down here. Of course it would mean cutting my ties with dealing and what little I've done with the 6x7. I think the ideal existence would be if 5 galleries sold 20 16x20's a year; I'd make $15,000 annually. Far from an impossible goal - I could live anywhere. Not only shall I make it a major order of business upon my return but I shall accomplish it. Anyway, I like what I've done and am doing with my life. I'm glad to be where I am. Once again I've stretched my trip longer than I thought I could. I didn't think I'd be gone 7 months. I just figured out that if I get that $400 of mine from ma I'll have $1,338, not including the $48 U.S. I got. It's 107 days to May 28 (my departure date) so that would be $12.48 a day to spend. If I left May 20 then it's 99 days, $13.51 a day to spend. Leaving May 10, 89 days, $15.03 to spend. I'm set cuz if I have to leave May 10 I think I'll be cool with that. All I lack is enough 35mm slide film. I got 20 1/2 Kodachrome 64 and 3 Ektachrome 200. We'll just have to see what's left after Carnaval. If I shoot 11 rolls that'd be 396 pix - 504 with the 200; leaving me 9 1/2 rolls for Bolivia-Peru and stuff in Rio. Not enough. I got 19 rolls of K-II (6x7 neg film) and I'm prepared to shoot it all at Carnaval. Maybe I can have 20 rolls mailed to me. I'll have to ask at the P.O. tomorrow cuz time is running short if I'm to do it.

Many of these entries I know must sound really boring. I am not an ambitious, empire-building kind of guy. Although I was goal oriented sometimes my goal was to hang out reading, take a walk, take a few photos. I was perfectly happy to laze the days away after the intense days in Guatemala and the first weeks in Rio during which I was in constant movement. I can be very laid back and I am the type of guy that enjoys very trivial aspects of life and I don't like to see them pass unnoticed: the smell of the city after a rain, city sounds, the entire package. Reading a paper in the morning makes me happy sometimes. I was twice as happy in Rio doing half as much as I might do in Minneapolis and was perfectly happy to be simply away. It makes me perfectly happy to be going somewhere on a bus in Rio and seeing the TV's inside the litte coffee places all tuned to a soccer game and looking at people walking down the street. Also, Carnaval would be coming up and I knew that was going to be a draining experience.

The other thing that kept my socializing and photography kind of quiet is the fact that I was doing this trip on a shoe-string budget. In reading that last entry I can't believe how little film I had. It turned out to be a benefit in the long run because I learned to make my shots count. On the other hand a lot of pro photographer's commonly shoot hundreds of rolls on just one project like Carnaval.

My lack of money meant that I couldn't afford to take out women or even eat in a proper restaurant more than once in a while.

Mon. - Feb. 11, 1985 Woke at 11 but laid around and dozed and looked for some misplace cheques, finally leaving at 3. Very hot and sunny. Went to the laundry, bought a Jornal Das Sports, ate at Mc's, mailed my 2nd "goof" letter to Liz nicely decorated with volcanos. Mailed cards to Fish and Thom.

I bussed to Pan Am to change my ticket from Mar. 24 to a May 28 date departure but the fuckin' jerks wanted $200 to do it. The assholes at Bon Voyage Travel (in Minneapolis) fucked me by failing to tell me about that restriction. So now I gotta try 'n' call the fuckheads long distance. After Pan Am I went and bought some lens cleaning paper and a lens cap.

Wandered around, then a huge downpour started right after I got on the bus. By the time I got off Catete (street) was a lake. I walked, enjoying it, to the hotel barefoot, not a pore dry. Slept - read a couple of chapters of Asimov - it was 12 when I went downstairs. Walked to Mc's in cento. Lot's of fairies (transvestite hookers) out tonight.

Tues. - Feb. 12, 1985 Went downstairs and ate without having slept. Napped til 2 pm and then went on my errands. Asked the P.O in Largo de Machado how much I'd have to pay for 10 or 20 rolls of Kodachrome 64 mailed from the US - they thought not much but didn't know for sure and directed me to a place in centro that calculates the (customs) tax.

Bussed to the Rio Palace Hotel to visit the foreign press center (for Carnaval) - not much happening there - got an invite to the Gloria Hotel's modeling show but found out my (Carnaval) pass would not get me into Flamengo's bash or the Baile da Feliz Cidade. I'll have to scam.

Bought a nice Flamengo shirt for 35,000 Cz in Copacabana. Bussed to centro and went to a photo shop to see what I could get for my older F-1 (Canon camera body) - 350,000 Cz, $87.50, not enough. Ate at Mr. Pizza. Another sweaty day - sunny. Got a letter from ma today. It's always nice to hear from yer ma. Yesiree. Dozzzed...

At 11 I walked to the Amazonia. I sure like my Flamengo shirt. I'm gonna buy a Gremio shirt and both versions of the Vasco da Gama shirt (home and away). The Vasco shirts will be neat to wear in MPLS - nobody will know what the hell they're about. Right now I'll have $1,307.67 if ma sends the $400. With 104 days left til May 27 that's $12.57 a day. With the $49 in the US it $13.04 a day. With neither the $400 or $49 it's $8.73 a day. With just the $49, $956.67 total cash in Rio, it's $9.20 a day. Today is my 96th day of traveling - with 104 til May 27 it'll be an even 200, arriving in MPLS May 28 - 201 days.

I've gone to the movies 22 times in 96 days - every 4 1/3 days, a rate of almost 84 movies a year - certainly not that high in the states. 12 books in 96 days - 1 every 8 days - but I didn't start reading til Kevin left Guatemala so it's more like every 6 days. Every 8 days is almost 46 books a year.

Changed $60 a 4,000 Cz. to the dollar as opposed to 3,800 before - so my hotel has gone down 20% since I arrived. Anyway a rate of 4,000 Cz. to the dollar will help my finances cuz the Amazonia has gone up 16.7%, cigs 28%, Daily Post 33%, bus 37.5%, pinball 20%, cheeseburgers 16.7%, black market for exchanging dollars up 20%.

My 70th day in Rio - 12 days from now (after Carnaval) we'll see how creative I was with my cameras. Chris Wallace (the English guy who handles foreign credentials for Carnaval) told me today that the Brazilian press for the most part will be confined to a box while the foreign photographers will have the run of the Sambadrome. What a pisser for them.

That Vasco da Gama soccer shirt I bought did bring me attention once on a bus in MPLS after I returned. A black guy thought the shirt had something to do with Nazis because of the christian cross logo which is meant to emulate the crosses on the sailing ships of the Portuguese explorers. This guy thought it was an iron cross. Nice.

One reason I wanted the Flamengo soccer shirt was for the famous "Red and Black Ball", black and red being Flamengo's team colors, one of a dozen or so traditional pre-Carnaval balls held around the city. I intended to dress up like a soccer player. Some of these balls can get really raunchy and every year x-rated videos and magazines are on the newsstands after Carnaval. The balls are basically affairs where everyone dresses up in themed costumes and dances all night til dawn.

Wed. - Feb. 13, 1985 Woke in the mid-afternoon. Visited the home offices of the Flamengo soccer team for a pass to their Red and Black Ball but an artist scarcely exists in their eyes - some narrow minded shit at Scala (the night club venue). Visited Brazil (my buddy from 1983) at Varig Airlines then rushed again to Flamengo to talk with their vice-president but he was an unsympathetic asshole, like it would really hurt him to give me a pass. Ended up buying a ticket to their ball for 70,000 Cz, $17.50, and since it allowed me to bring a girl I bussed to Maria's to invite her along. Went to Mc's near Passeio (on the edge of downtown). Watched the end of "The Searchers" and the gols of the day in the lobby downstairs when I got back.

I very had a very high regard of Brazilians when it came to understanding promotion. While magazines and newspapers have an important part to play when it comes to tourism, the work of documentary photographers tends to hang about much longer and create a cache' that down the years makes a place like Rio de Janeiro come alive. People come to a city like Rio not because of what it is but because of what they think it is. A little creativity in thinking of these matters goes a long ways; this has been shown again and again in matters of self-promotion.

Thurs. - Feb. 14, 1985 Started off the day at 11 AM - hot and sunny, natch. Went to Manchete (magazine offices) nearby with the hope of somehow getting a ticket or 2 for bailes (balls) but no luck. Stopped at a sports store on Catete (Street), ate at Mc's. Went to the Rio Palace in Copacabana and got my pass, hurray! Went to Centro and talked to Brazil who is trying to help me with free tickets to baile's - called Bon Voyage (my travel agency in MPLS) but the turkey's wouldn't accept the charges. Bought Flamengo uniform shorts and socks, 11,000 and 7,000 Cz,.

Showered and rested and at dusk went to the official opening of Carnaval on Rio Branco (a big street downtown) which was nothing. From there I walked up to Maria's. We walked to my hotel and I showered and donned my Flamengo uniform. We bussed to the club and had to wait in line the longest time. Apparently 1 or 2 guys robbed the people waiting in line.

Getting in was pretty nuts. A cop started yanking people out of the line and showing them some other way in to speed things up. The 3rd or 4th time he came back, Maria and I decided to go with him but when we got there the vice-president of Flamengo was ordering the doors shut. After a bit we went back to the entrance we had been at but they merely shuffled us in one way and out the other. We finally got in just up the street moments before the vice-president ordered those doors shut.

It must've been 100 degrees in the main room and sweat came off me in rivulets. It was a pretty weird and raucous bash. The women were fucking incredible. Didn't do much but walk around taking pix, 1st with the 6x7 and then 35, both with flash. It was a nice dawn as we walked to Maria's door in Gloria and birds sang to the day. It was sort of nice to sleep in that empty room that was Karina's.

Fri. - Feb. 15, 1985 The black chick (Maria's roommate) woke me at 11 AM cuz she wanted to go to the beach. I went to the hotel to shower and change. The black market for dollars was up 150 Cruzeiros as I changed $120 at 4,150 after picking up my press jacket. I bought a FL-day filter in a camera shop and met one of those mid-30's divorcee's named Eliza who took a liking to me right away, inviting me to her apt. in Ipanema.

Went to the Passarella (Sambadrome) at dusk but not too much was happening as the parades didn't start til 9 PM and dusk was at 7. How nice to have a pass. I reveled in the sense of my self-importance. The magic key. I bullshitted with the guys at the very end of the street for awhile then spent an exasperating 45 min. trying to find the press room for the foreign journalists, supposedly replete with beer, sofas and color TV which turned out to be an empty room with a freezer. I went to the Amazonia then slept. Hot.

The way Carnaval in the permanent Sambadrome, the main venue for the big Samba parades, worked in those days and I think still does, is that the 2nd division Samba schools parade on Friday and Saturday and the big schools on Sunday and Monday. After the judging the top schools parade once again in what is known as the Championship Parade the following Saturday. The schools are awarded points on their performance and the top scorers from the 2nd division can move into the 1st division and the bottom schools in the 1st division can be relegated to the 2nd division just like soccers clubs in Europe.

Also in those days the delays between the different schools parading were very long and it wasn't unusual for the parades to last til 11 AM. Now the judges penalize the schools for delays and the parades usually end at dawn.

Sat. - Feb. 16, 1985 The guys downstairs woke me at 2:30 AM as I wished. Joe was there so we went to the Passarela together (the subway runs 24 hours during Carnaval). Shot some good pix at dawn with the 6x7. At 7 AM I went to the hotel to sleep.

I left at 3 PM to eat at Mc's and play a little Shark. Took the metro (subway) to Praca Onze (a traditional old Carnaval location very near the Sambadrome) but there was little to shoot at dusk. I bussed to the hotel and soon slept so I could spend the night at the parades. Woke at 11 PM.

Sun. - Feb. 17, 1985 At 1 AM I bussed to the end of Catete and had a steak - got back at 2:15 AM. I shot some of the Samba schools with 35 mm - probably got some decent stuff. I followed one of the schools out the end of the street around dawn and shot with the 6x7. Left about 7 AM. Very hot.

Dawn and the big days - today and tomorrow. I slept til after 3 PM. At 4 I split for Mc's in centro on the metro. Came back and picked up my gear and took the metro to the passarella. What a great madhouse for photography - a treasure. I shot at dusk with the 6x7 where the schools assemble then entered the 'dromo (Sambadrome). The 1st schools of the night were scarcely better than last night (2nd division schools). By 10 PM I was hungry and didn't have film to last the night, so I bussed to the Amazonia then showered and split again.

Mon. - Feb. 18, 1985 Got back to the passarela about 2:30 AM and shot all night and well into the day - not getting back to the hotel til 9 AM, tired and sweaty.

Young girl dancing at Carnaval in Rio de Janeiro by James May

One of my 35mm shots in the
Sambadrome in 1985

Ilha do Governador was the 1st of the better schools I shot around 2:30. They had these knockout chicks from Scala on a big float which unfortunately broke down before they even got started. I think I worked that school pretty good. Next was Vila Isabel, who put on a spectacular show. I shot it from the 3rd floor (of the enclosed box seats) with the 200 ASA pushed to 400 ASA. Got some nice dawn shots. I went down to the street to photograph Mangueira. Got nice shots of the huge float with a favela (shanty town) in the background. I think I worked the school pretty good. Shot til it was bright and sunny. They sure put on a mammoth display. Christ was it hot. I pooped out of film and desire about the same time Mangueira ended.

Slept pretty soundly til about 7 PM. Dusk was clouded up so I didn't mind missing it. I'll probably shoot the last of the 6x7 neg film at dawn. I'll use any I have left on the little fair on Presidente Vargas (huge street downtown that runs right past the entrance of the Sambadrome). There's some good shots there. Can't wait to see how the 6x7's come out. I've been shooting almost all at F.5.6 and 1 sec. (with a flash). I use 1/2 and 1/4 of a sec. when I think there's enough light in the sky. I've used F.4 rarely cuz I'm worried about depth-of-field. I've been using the flash at F.8 and F.11 alot, sometimes on F.16. Some of the shots should be good ones. In a way it'll be nice to be using the 35mm at dusk and night again.

Got high and fell asleep again. Woke - I don't know what time it is - noon. I'm gonna eat 3 cheeseburgers at Mc's. Bye! I'm back now.

Tues. - Feb. 19, 1985 Split for the Passarela around 2 AM. They were running 3 hrs. behind. I waited a long time for a school to start. I barely started photographing Imperatriz Leopoldinense when it was time to dig out the 6x7 for dawn. Got some good stuff - hope I can turn some heads with my 6x7's. Next I shot Imperio Serrano on the street and then Beija-Flor (portuguese for hummingbird - kiss-flower and one of the most popular school's in Rio) from up high. They put on a big show, pretty impressive.

I ran into Eliza on the pista (street) and we made out way to the metro while she did some pix. Stopped at the centro Mc's for a couple of sheesaboorgas (their pronunciation). Sure is hot. Glad I don't have to lug around the 6x7 on the 23rd (Championship Parade). Shot 5 rolls of Kodachrome 64. In a way I'm glad the 4 straight days are over - it can be tough hanging out so long. Got back at noon. So all that's left is the 23rd - should be good.

Wed. - Feb. 20, 1985 Around 1 AM I went down to Mc's in Largo do Machado. They were having a miniature version of a desfile (samba parade) on the upper part off Catete. So Carnaval is over - one giant 4 day party. Pretty wild - some hard work but a photographer's dream. If the exposure's were done right, and without too much blur, then there should be some dynamite stuff. I especially like the area outside the Passarela - it's an enchantment of light, contrast, color and incongruent confusion. I keep thinking of the girls in pink standing in front of the Coke stand at dawn with the people on the curb in front. All together I shot 18 rolls of color neg film with the 6x7. How many of those 180 negs will be usable? I should shoot some 6x7 slides when I go home and see what kind of cibachrome print's come out, both with flash/people shots and the usual (architecture) stuff.

All that's left now as far as Carnaval is the winner's parade on the 23rd in the Passarela. I have 5 rolls of Kodachrome 64 and 2 rolls of Ektachrome 200. I used the Fl-day (magenta) filter on the 1st roll of 200 I shot and will use it on Sat. as well.

Wow, what an experience that was. Not only is it nuts to be down in the Sambadrome but to have the complete fun of the place and be right out with the dancers and floats is mind-boggling. About halfway down the length of the Passarela, maybe 2 long city blocks, there is a side area where the 100 to 200 drummers stand as their school goes by and then they join in about midway. To stand next to those guys when they start up sends chills up your spine. The whole thing is a mad confusion of light and sound and music and cheering and dancing and madcap happiness and nervousness on the part of the schools. There is a lot riding on these parades for some people and it's intense.

The level of artistry in terms of construction and design is top notch; it make the New Orleans Mardi Gras parades seem shabby in comparison. In any event, I've never been thrilled with a bunch of drunken idiots trying to get women to show their tits like they do in New Orleans. Cariocas are not big drinkers when it comes to getting shit-faced like Americans do and that's especially true of Brazilian women.

Shooting Carnaval was somewhat exhausting; I was on my feet for hours at a time and must've walked miles and miles. And, it was very, very warm and humid, even in the middle of the night. Wouldn't have missed it for the world.

Wed. - Feb. 20, 1985 Woke at dawn. Went downstairs and ate. They're showing "Star Trek III" and "Conan the Destroyer" today. I think I'll go check one out. Fell asleep around 11 AM and surprisingly slept all day and night - 9 PM. Went to see "Star Trek III". Pretty cool flik - nice, brisk pace and very good visuals and special effects. Some really good composition and editing. It's weird that I've been in Rio the only time I've seen 2 and 3.

Thur. - Feb. 21, 1985 Woke about 6 AM, ate breakfast. After 8 I bussed to Leblon to buy "Something Wicked This Way Comes", for 8,000 Cz. but now they wanted 16,000 and I said fuck that. I spent the rest of the day hunting up old bookstores downtown but I didn't add to the 5 I bought at the used place in Leblon: "Battle For Leyte Gulf", "The Illustrated Man", "The Shuttered Room", "Hurok of the Stone Age" and "Savage Pellucidar". Bought a couple of neat little jars. Got back in the late afternoon and fell asleep til almost midnight. Skimmed the whole Leyte Gulf book. It's been in the high 90's to low 100's every day now - with nothing but sun. Got another Artpaper from home.

"Artpaper" was a tabloid sized newspaper from Minneapolis about the local fine arts scene. Linda and her cunt were both on the board of directors and so getting a copy sent to me by my well-meaning mother sent me into a deep funk for an entire day. It represented everything I wanted to get away from. I wasn't very happy that these assholes were burying themselves so deeply in the Minneapolis art scene since I wanted to be a part of it. The tracks on my back were still fresh and still hurt.

Fri. - Feb. 22, 1985 Woke about 6 AM, ate. Today has been cloudy, a small decrease in temperature. I passed the morning in my room, starting a more careful rereading of "The Battle For Leyte Gulf" and reveling in my laziness. Oh, whatever shall I do today? Buy a Daily Post, see Conan mebbee - Hah! Hows about I sleep til 8:30 PM? That's what I did. Got a joke letter from Winnie. Left at 9 in the first rain in some days to Mc's then to the Sao Luis I for "Conan the Destroyer".

Sat. - Feb. 23, 1985 Woke about 4 AM and finished of Leyte Gulf. Ate my meager but free continental breakfast downstairs in the little eating area. Started in on "The Illustrated Man" Overcast day so far. At 5 A PM I'm gonna split for the Passarela - hope it don't rain.

Although I'm fairly bored today it's pretty obvious that on the whole, coming to Latin America was a great move and has been a great experience for me. The newness of Rio has worn off by now but the familiararity is as satisfiying as it's unknown's.

I'd like to repeat the experience sometime in another city - but where? I have all the world to choose from: Bangkok, Manila, Istanbul, Djarkta, Calcutta, Singapore, Hong Kong. But first it's down the Malay Peninsula and Sumatra, across Java to Bali, Hong Kong and, with luck, the Phillipines. I'll need luck for all of them cuz where am I going to get 5 grand? Oh, well, I've had my share of fun if I don't get up the money.

These last 2 plus years have been good ones. I've done an awful lot of stuff that heretofore, I'd only dreamed about - but I guess I set that ball rolling to rolling in 1976, my first trip to Central American in 1977, my 2nd in 1979, graduation in 1980, the slim year of 1981 altho it wasn't a bad year, and then the grant of 1982, which changed my life, together with the 2 thousand I saved in early 1982 - my 6x7's with which I took those 1st grand shots of the Minnesota State Fair, which body of work has been a challenge to surpass in Quality, the "1-2-3 Show" (a show at Barry-Richards Gallery in MPLS), that fantastic journey to South America, my show at Barry-Richards, selling my comics and getting 2 grand out of my show, enabling me to split that berg again, news of the Minnesota Institute of Arts show, Karina, a press pass, not to mention all the kinky fun with Winnie and selling a pic to the Walker (Art Center permanent collection). You certainly can't say my life has been static. And nice free time, nice bike rides in summer heat, 124 games of pinball won in a single day, jumping rope, cool pulps. These have been the good old days. What more could one expect out of life? Then there's those 2 spectacular times of my solo ascents up Pacaya and Santa Maria, both while in eruption. What great times those were.

Fell asleep til around 9 PM. Didn't get to the Passarela til before midnight. 2nd place Beija-Flor and No.1 Padre Miguel were the only thing worth shooting. Had a steady rain turn into a torrential downpour during Beija-Flor. Had the luck to have dawn during Padre Miguel. Got back about 7:30 AM.

Well, that's an interesting entry to look back onto after 24 years. It's all there: my hopes, my dreams, my priorities, such as they were. I was a strange combination of utter laziness and utter energy somehow all rolled up in the same man. It seems as if I drew equal pleasure at times from the trivial as well as the fantastic. Life was a kind of a poem to me, a poem to be lived and enjoyed whether it was riding a bicycle no handed on a warm summer evening or hiking the Inca Trail.

In reading that last entry, I was to eventually go to all the cities I mentioned except for Calcutta and Manilla. It's interesting to look back and see how fully formed my trip to SE Asia already was in my mind even though I had no money at that time to do it. At that time in my life I had boundless faith in my own luck and resources. I felt my karma was just fine. I used to see signposts, little bits of luck or funny little coincidences that I took to mean that I was being shown by fate that I was doing the right thing, that I was on the right path. When I talk about karma I mean to say that not only did I think it was wrong for people to do things like Linda did to me but downright dangerous. I honestly had some kind of a "Crime And Punishment" outlook on life; that if one did wrong to others, if one took from others that which you had no right to take, that somehow good luck wouldn't come your way. I felt that one would forfeit the right to be naively hopeful that all would be right in my world. You can't shit in your living room and not smell it; a lot of people try to but they don't understand that putting clothes pins on your nose won't work. I genuinely felt that people who had done me wrong would have it come back to bite them and you know what - that is exactly what has happened to every single person who has fucked me. When it comes to karma, you have to police your shit or the Great Spirit, which is a leaf and a stream and the breeze from a butterflies wings, will turn it's back on you as you have done to others.

The only difference between the trip to SE Asia as laid out in that entry and the actual trip is that I would go up and down the length of Thailand before hitting the Malay Peninsula and that there would be no onward trip to the Phillipines. Little did I know at the time that before 10 months were out that I would be winging my way to SE Asia on what would turn out to be another grand trip although, in looking at that last entry it seems as though I had an inkling that SE Asia would indeed turn into reality. But before that there is:

Sun. - Feb. 24, 1985 Slept til 7:30 PM. Missed Flamengo's win over America at Maracana 1-0. From 8 to 10 I played Shark.

Mon. - Feb. 25, 1985 Woke just before dawn of a drizzly morning. Ate downstairs then brought in some dirty clothes and ate a ham and chees with a coke while reading Jornal Das Sports. I remember laughing while waiting for a bus to Praca Maua' at the looks of chagrin on the faces of people splashed by puddles as busses drove to the curb. I remember how funny one couple who emerged from the Turistico (my hotel - there are bus stops right in front, maybe 70 feet away from the entrance because the hotel is set back aways) was as they had their packs and other shit stuffed in huge sacks - especially the guy's - god, it was almost as big as him.

I went to the immigration place (downtown) for a 90 day extension to my visa at 10 but it wasn't open til 11. So I wandered around, visiting the place where I got ma her butterfly tray. Visited a corner bookstore run by an old black dude that I visited a couple of times on my 1st visit to Rio. For 10,000 Cz. I bought: "The Battle of the Bulge", "The Pocket Book of Short Stories", "Out of Bounds", "Islands In the Stream", "Address: Centauri", "Quckie Thrillers", "The Sailor On the Seas of Fate", "The Einstein Intersection", "The Battle of Cassino", "The Stainless Steel Rat", "B-r-r-r!", "The Other Side of the Moon", and a neat little semi-hardcover of "The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" (I still have 4 of those books).

Went back to immigration and took care of my visa for which I am to return tomorrow. Visited the little building where I was supposed to be able to get info on what the Brazilian P.O. would tax me for 20 Kodachrome 64's mailed from the U.S., but they in turn gave me an address near Praca Maua' so I'll go there tomorrow. Slept form 3 PM til 10 PM - ate at Mc's.

Tues. - Feb. 26, 1985 Woke about an hour before dawn, ate - went back to sleep between 8 and 9 AM. Gray again. At 11 AM I went to immigration and got my extra 90 days stamped. Tried in vain to find the P.O. that could tell me about the import tax on 20 Kodachrome 64's. Fuck it! I'm gonna have them sent in such a way that they'll appear used. Bought some more Placar's (a sports magazine).

Visited EBAL(a Rio based book and magazine publisher) but the guy I talked to before was busy and I got tired of waiting. Bought a Cato (Bruce Lee from "The Green Hornet") for Kevin. At 8 PM I bussed downtown and called ma to make sure she was sending the $400 and to get her to talk to Bon Voyage Travel about their $200 fuck up. She said Thom sent $175 (photo sale), the Minnesota Institute of Arts $100 and Film In the Cities $75, so I'll have more than I thought. If Thom sends $150 for the, I hope not smaller 11x14 sale, 16x20 for Film In the Cities, that $515 including the $15 from Ervin (my father). That's $1,445 including weed money owed which is $930.

After that I talked with Jim (a good friend from college). He said there's a decent chance that he's sold my Machu Picchu print. Great! Bussed to the Amazonia.

Wed. - Feb. 27, 1985 Ate downstairs at 7:30 AM then napped til 11 AM. At noon I went to Largo do Machado for 3 Mc's and to mail Kevin a letter. Not awfully hot today. Bussed to the end of Leblon and sunned on the beach til after 4. There was a young fox making eyes at me all afternoon. Thought Bon Voyage would call at 7 PM but they didn't. Tonite is Flamengo-Fluminense at Maracana'. It's raining right now.

What I don't mention in that entry for Feb. 27 is that is a day I perhaps came closest to dying then at any other time in my life with the exception of almost falling into that lava tube on the flanks of Santa Maria volcano in Guatemala in 1983. Being from Minnesota I didn't know what a rip tide was but I certainly learned that day. I decided to go for a swim while I was sunning on the beach and I swam out past the breakers - no problem with that. The problem with rip tides that drowns so many people is trying to get back in. Once in amongst the breaking waves I was pummeled by them over and over again while at the same time continually dragged back out to sea. Getting past those breakers was really hard and all I accomplished was to stay in one place where the waves were the worst in terms of crashing down on me. One time a wave hit me so hard that it completely turned me upside down in an instant and my swimming trunks were down around my ankles that fast. I was getting so exhausted that I didn't know whether to even bother pulling up my shorts because I knew I was in danger. However I did pull up my shorts and swam for it as strongly as I could.

Only the fact that I was such a strong swimmer let me beat that riptide and save my life that day. I was so tired from the fight that I was dizzy and barely able to walk back onto the beach to my towel. There weren't many people at the beach that day and no one there ever knew the terrific struggle for my life that had occurred. I simply went back to my towel and laid down, completely spent. As on a couple of other occasions, I don't remember why I didn't write about this in my journal. I can only guess as I have already said, that I figured I would never forget such an event and only put the trivial and ephemeral things I did in my journal.

In looking back while transcribing this journal, there are many other events that I remember but which didn't make it into my journal. In some cases I have mentioned them and in others let them remain only in my memory.

Lightly dozed for maybe an hour then went to Maracana' in the rain, which didn't stop til after 1 AM. 22 thousand were on hand for a game which Flamengo dominated but which ended in a 0-0 draw. Flamengo missed a sure goal at 45 min of the 2nd half, sending the Flamenguista's home in disbelief. Jim called at 1:20 AM and told me that Bon Voyage said I'd known all along about the $200 penalty on any change of departure date. I stayed up til late writing a letter about what that cunt Tammy (at Bon Voyage) did.

Thur. - Feb. 28, 1985 Rose about 10 AM - cloudy day. Went across the way and had a ham 'n' cheese - laid around. At 2:30 I split for Copacabana and changed $150 at 4600 Cruzeiros to the dollar. Walked down a few blocks and looked at football shirts - bussed to Largo do Machado - looked at more. Played Shark - got 3 balls twice in one game, ate. Bought shampoo, soap. Paid my rent for Feb. Slept - slept. Got a dinosaur card from Winnie today.

Fri. - March 1, 1985 Spent the whole fuckin' day writing to those twits at Bon Voyage. Took a break at 2:30 to eat at Mc's and beat up on Shark. When I was done I mailed the letter at 5:30, then played more pins. Woke at 8 AM this morning so I slept early. Gray, drizzly day. Got a letter from Ma.

Sat. - March 2, 1985 Was up before 1st light. Wanted to go to the beach but it's been grey so I spent the morning reading. Dozed or read til 4 PM, then went to the Amazonia. Played pins afterwards and when I emerged it was raining - the street was a lake. I love it. Sat around at night, wrote letters to Karina and Felix.

Sun. - March 3, 1985 Woke around 7 AM - still fucking overcast. Didn't do a helluva lot.

Mon. - March 4, 1985 Cloudy, cloudy. Got up about 8 AM. At 11 I took a bus to the end of Copacabana and then looked for jerseys of Vasco da Gama, Botafogo and Gremio. Bought a Gremio for 50,000. Played Shark. Started raining right after I got back around 4 PM.

Wed. - March 6, 1985 Didn't even make an entry yesterday. Went downstairs just before 10. Mailed off my last films; cost 38,000 Cruzeiros, $8.26. For the 2nd day in a row I went to Leblon to tan only to have the clouds come. Called Elisa. Went to see Vasco de Gama be handily outplayed by Atletico Mineiro 2-1. Considering that Vasco missed a penalty shot, with a little luck they could have tied or even won.

Thur. - March 7, 1985 I awoke around mid-morning on yet another of those sunny days of fugitive blue. According to the thermometers it was 100 degrees. It was warm but it didn't feel that warm. Perhaps I'm getting accustomed to the heat. At 2 PM I went to pig-out at Mc's then went to beat up on Shark.

At 4 PM I went to Largo do Machado I to see "Midnight Cowboy". I never realized how heavily edited the TV version was. Uncut, and on the big screen, I could really appreciate this brilliant combination of superb editing, acting, casting - you name it.

Elisa called to say that she couldn't make it to the exhibition of 19th century Rio but that we'd meet for some Yoga class tomorrow night. Wearing nothing but shorts I hopped a bus on a warm night to Maracana' for Flamengo-Gremio. Flamengo had to win to beat out International and gain, along with Atletico, automatic classification for the 2nd phase of the Taca de Ouro which starts 10 games from now and which will incorporate the 16 best teams from Groups A to D.

Flamengo tried to set an offensive pace but the game was a fairly boring defensive battle. All the better then, the goal that Flamengo scored on a deflected foul shot that left the Gremio goalie frozen at the 89th min. That's cutting it close. Anyway, 1-0 Flamengo and Gremio became the last team to be unbeaten at 3-1-6, Flamengo is 6-2-2.

The fans were so enchanted with the outcome that they broke out in a roar on the bus back when the goal was replayed on someone's radio. They sang songs on the way out of Maracana', on the bus -at the men who unload fish near Praca 15, and hooted at the homosexuals who, chock full of silicon, ply their nocturnal trade along Praia do Flamengo. I stopped at the hotel for a minute then walked to the Amazonia for Frango Assado Ao Molho.

Fri. - March 8, 1985 Went down about 10:30 AM. Ate at Mc's then bussed to Copacabana to change some money only to find that the black market had dipped back to 4600 Cz. to the dollar after a high of 5200 altho the Senor said that the highest he'd paid for cheques was 4900. Fuck! Bussed to the airport only to find Pan Am closed. Stupid waste of 4800 Cz. Sat around for a couple of hours at the hotel then went to Elisa's to go with her to a Yoga class but forgot to take her address with. Smart. Killed a little time then went to see "The French Lieutenant's Woman". Really nicely done. Risky thing they did with parallel stories but it was okay - and had the 2 endings the book apparently did. The 19th century piece was such a nice bit of period work it easily worked on it's own. A very complex interweaving.; nicely laid out.

This is a postcard I recieved from Gloria in Guatemala about this time. It had a picture of a Temple at Tikal and was in spanish:

Hello Jim, how are you in Brazil? Tell me if you got my Christmas card because I haven't yet received a card from you. If you have time write me. Remember me, Gloria.

This is a card I also got, this one from Karina in Lima, Peru dated Feb. 12, 1985:

Dear Jim, I went several times to the post-office but until now no news from you. It's quite possible I'll never receive a letter from you because 4 weeks ago I wrote two lettes to Lima to reserve my ticket and they never arrived. Vive the Brasilian mail system. The trip from Santiago to Lima was very boring. I was lucky because in Santiago the bus left without me. I was waiting "ak arden" (?), I don't know the english word, No. 3 but the bus was leaving from No. 1. And of course that's not the reason I was luck, see below. In so far I was lucky because the company had another bus that went the same direction, my luggage was in the other bus! By the time I was in Arica I was so sick of busses I nearly vomited.

It was nice to see the family again in Lima, of course they still had my ticket, don't be so distrusting (apparently I had said something). I slept with three other Dutch girls in the same room. That was nice to speak Dutch again after all that bloody American, joke. They wanted to go to Huancayo and asked if I wanted to join them. As I went the next day to AirCubana and told me it was the 28th of February on the waiting list! I decided to go with them. Fortunately AirCubana called me yesterday to tell me I can leave the 21st.

Still one week to get robbed, to eat ceviche and go to the pena. At the moment it's hot in Lima, so the best thing to do is go to the beach. How is, or better said was carnival? You made a lot of pictures? I talked to an Australian and told him I regretted I couldn't be in Rio for carnival he answered he was not a moralist but he didn't like to see fucking in the street! Is it really that wild (it's not like that at all)?

In Peru they also have carnival, the have the habit to throw water to the people in the street, which I don't appreciate very much. I looked everywhere for a black sweater but even for myself I didn't find anything (I must have asked her to buy one for me).

The next letter will be from cold Dutchland. Hope everything is okay with you. Love Karina.

Sat. - March 9, 1985 Rose about 10:30 AM on the 1st day with an honest to goodness blue sky in a long time. Went to the beach and read from "Islands In the Stream", a nice thing to do. Ate Shark. At 8 PM I bussed way, way out to see "The Sword and the Sorcerer" - good as always. Really a good film. Excellent cast, editing, lighting, pacing, photography and a good grasp of the material. Kicked drunks and ate at Mc's on the way back. Nice night.

Some drunken fucking vagabond kept coming up to me on a busstop after the movie and just would not leave me alone. He kept approaching me and trying to get very close even when I told him 10 times to fuck off. Finally I kicked him in the stomach to keep him off me.

Sun. - March 10, 1985 Got up around noon and went to Copacabana to lay in the sun and read more Hemingway. Left at 3:30 to shower at the hotel and go see Atletico Mineiro and Flamengo. Considering they are the champions of their respective groups it wasn't very entertaining. Flamengo had the better of it and lost 2 excellent chances, shooting high. Atl. scored on a lucky chance and won 1-0. 34,000 at the game.

Me in my room in Rio in 1985

Me around the time of my
jumprope session so it wasn't
like I was a pig. I used to go
to games at Maracana' in
those exact shorts
without even bringing
a shirt.

Dug out my jump rope for the 1st time since leaving MPLS and went in front of the hotel to see if I could get in shape a little. Pretty warm night. I haven't lost all my stamina and could go 5 min. at a crack. I am determined to get up to at least 20 min. and to stretch the problem out of my back (it had been bothering me all along). I should knock off the hamburger shit a little and start eating more apple, oranges, grapes, pineapples and banana, saving money as well.

Watched "Os Gols do Fantastico" on TV in the lobby then went out and bought a big bunch of bananas, a pineapple and a whole roasted chicken for 14,000 Cz. (less than $3). Ate that bitch up.

Mon. - March 11, 1985 Woke around 10 AM and stayed in til night. Read Hemingway til almost noon and talked to Leal (a Brazilian living at the Turistico) for a couple of hours and helped him with his letter. Hemingway - sleep - Hemingway; and bananas. Really a fine book. A warm day, never went into it tho.

At 8 PM I went to play Shark - in e games got 3 balls twice and 1 win. From there I went to see "Body Double" by DePalma - an alright flick - much of it lifted from Hitchcock. It's just after midnight - my stomach is full of frango assado and it's 86 degrees.

Tues. - March 12, 1985 Rose at 9 AM and altho I'd planned to go out and do some things I went back upstairs after breakfast and slept the morning and afternoon away and finished Jekyll and Hyde.

Around 5 PM I visited the laundry and then bought an apple, a pear, 2 oranges and 5 bananas with grapes for 4800 Cz., ($1) then ate some in my room. Eliza called and said for me to hurry to her place if I wanted to make it to her Yoga class so I did and it was difficult to stretch muscles and tendons so long unused but I thought it might help straighten out my back.

That was a remarkable class, only 60 cents U.S. a session. The teacher was a guy from Argentina and him and I were the only men in the class with about 15 or 20 women. This guy had me stand on my head and then fall backwards while he supported my back and I felt my whole spine crack nicely.

Wed. - March 13, 1985 Got up at 10:30 and had lunch and gabbed with Brazil. Spent the rest of the afternoon looking at goofy tourist stuff near Praca Maua' for an art piece I had in mind. Walked down Marechal Floriana (street downtown) looking at the cult shops and looking for books near Praca Tiradentes. I traded for and bought "Submarine", "The Best of Amazing", "The Graveyard Reader", "Future Tense" and "Total War". Fell asleep soon after I returned and when I went downstairs it was 9:30 PM; too late to go to Maracana' which is too bad cuz Flamengo whipped Santa Cruz 7-0. Slept at dawn.

Thur. - March 14, 1985 Didn't get downstairs til 3 PM. Ate at Mc's in Copacabana then changed $60 at 4900 Cz to the dollar. Played Shark and had bad luck at first but then started to kick it's ass, getting 3 balls almost every game and turning it over too. It was dark and rainy when I left.

Fri. - March 15, 1985 Went to Copacabana to sun. Napped in the room. Got up too late to get to Eliza's before the Yoga class and her phone was busy so I dashed to Vidigal only to find no one there. I bussed to Eliza's and she told me it had been changed to the night before.

Sat. - March 16, 1985 Gray day. Didn't do much. Played Shark at night - ate at the Amazonia.

One thing I haven't mentioned about this trip is the Brazilian music. I had tiny stereo radios with me and I was listening to the Brazilian radio stations all the time. In retrospect, 1985 way in many ways the golden age of what is known in Brazil as Musica Popular Brazileira, MPB for short; it's the Brazilian term for top 40 pop songs. At the time an artist named Simone had an album with a couple of hits from it that were played on the radio all the time. There were many songs I grew to love that Brazilian summer of 1985. It's a funny thing because when I used to daydream about traveling when back in the states I used to wonder about little things like what music in other countries people listened to. One of the things I wanted to know and one of many reasons I stayed so long in Rio is that I wanted a deeper insight into a culture different from mine.

Many Americans have memories of their youth or a certain summer that a certain song that was popular at the time will remind them of. I wanted to be able to look back and know what songs were popular in Brazil in 1985. I wanted to look back and have that discordant memory of songs that surge into popularity and fade into memory, alive only in the minds of people who lived in a certain place during a certain summer. I don't know if that makes any sense; I wanted to become intimately acquainted with another culture's version of "American Graffitti" I guess. Those songs that tie one to a time and place but in this case a foreign city.

In 1985 MPB songs were very similar in their construction to other types of pop music around the world although their were often faint echoes of Tropicalia or Bossa Nova. Before too many more years passed hit music in Brazil would evolve into a type of music that blended Samba with MPB and nowadays, almost all hit songs in Brazil have a Samba beat. Now, the top 40 songs in Brazil are nothing like the songs played on the radio that Brazilian summer of 1985.

Sun. - March 17, 1985 Today's Saint Pat's day ain't it? 'Nother pretty gray day. Really humid. I've only got to lift my arm to start sweating. Mosied downstairs at noon and watched soccer from Italy. Bussed down to Mc's and pigged out. When I got back I leisurely showered and shaved and in the late afternoon I walked to Maria's for the 1st time since the ball. She wondered where the hell I'd been all this time. I lied and told her I'd been in Paraguay. I feel pretty good today, as always. Visited with Maria for awhile. Finally she was wearing clothes that allowed a look at her body - worse than I thought so that's that.

Mon. - March 18, 1985 Didn't stir out of my room til about 3 PM - ate at Mc's, mailed Kevin and Winnie letters. Bussed to Pan Am to see how long I could hold off changing the date in case Bon Voyage comes thru - cancelled Mar. 25 and made a reservation for May 27-28. Checked prices at the Rodaviaria (central long distance bus station) and train station.

When I returned my film had arrived Fed Ex so Jim got it to me without it even being opened. At 7 PM I went to call ma and let her know that the $600 came alright - talked to Randy too. Played pins off Rio Branco, went to see "Tightrope" with Clint Eastwood - okay - so-so but okay.

Walked to the hotel - warm night - very soft rain. I'm going to Bolivia now and I want to feel Rio. I walk past the Passeio, past the prostitutes in their tight pants and mini-skirts - past the transvestites who linger on the tree-lined Avenida. I feel already like I'm missing Rio altho I've yet 3 or 4 weeks to pass here in May.

Tues. - March 19, 1985 Visited both the Bolivian and Peruvian consulates, both closed. Went to Copacabana to visit a camping store on Av. Bolivar but they knew nothing about water purification tablets. Ate at Mc's nearby, played Shark til dark then went to the Yoga class - really good, he cracked my back 3 times.

Wed. - March 20, 1985 Woke just too late to make it to the consulates, ate at Mc's, played Shark. Got a letter from Karina in Holland today. Napped.

Sat in my room and separated what stuff will be stored and packed most of the stuff for my little jaunt. Sure got a lot of junk. Afterwords I listened to Flamengo's 2-2 tie with Palmeiras. Flamengo tied it while 1 man short at 84 min. I just love this one announcer, heavy echo, teeeeemm-pooo e' placaaarrrrrr nooo Pacaembuuu (time and score). He's a real loon. At 11:30 PM I went to the good ol' Amazonia on a clear perfect night - nice walk with my li'l radio. Watched the gols replay on TV in the lobby.

Sint-Oederrode 11/3/85 Dear Jim, this morning I received your letter. Thanks. I can tell you the Brazilian mailsystem is terrible. I never got your letter in Lima and some friends never received the letters I wrote to them. I hope you got my card from Santiago and Lima. I feel sorry for your sweater but I wrote already that it was impossible to find a black one.

I'm already two weeks back. It's not easy to acclimatize. People say it's not so cold but I'm freezing every day. I prefer the hot sun in Rio. In Lima I went several times to the beach, the result was that I arrived almost black in Holland. But every time I take a shower a bit of the colour disappear, so at the moment I have a strange speckled skin.

At this moment I'm listening to music of Simone. You were right, I even appreciate the Brasilian music more here than in Brasil, sorry for my terrible handwriting. Your handwriting is really excellent. Did you go to American Express for my mail? It was nice to see my family and friends back but nobody really understands how it is in South America. At the moment I don't have the need to see a lot of people. I stay with my parents and fill my days with reading, listening to music and thinking what I want to do now. I decided that I want to stay some time in Holland. I'm looking for a job and I want to follow some courses, photograph - dance course, and I want to know something more about computers. The photos I made are not very good but at least they are a souvenir. What do you think of the photo of us (she'd sent one taken of us outside the Turistico)? Even if you'll never send me a photo, I'll never forget how you look like, don't get angry I'm only joking.

I envy you that you still go to the Machu Picchu and the Amazonia. I'm glad for you. You sold some photos and I hope your friend has sold on of your photos of Machu Picchu. One day I'll read in a magazine about the famous photographer James May.

You asked how my time in Lima was. I met an Australian boy I like very much so I was again sad when I brought him to the airport. That's also the reason I decide to stay in Holland. All the people I like on my trip live in another country whether South Africa, America or Australia. I want to find out if there are also interesting people in Holland. Jim, I hope you still have a good time and don't forget to write your dutch friend once in a while. Love, Karina.

Thur. - March 21, 1985 Left at 11 AM on a sunny and very warm, hot day for the Bolivian and Peruvian consulates both of whom told me I'd need no visa. From there it was on to Pan Am where I paid over the $200 penalty using the checks ma sent and then I bought some books and a 3-D picture of Corcovado on Marachel Floriano. Changed $200 at 4900 Cz. to the dollar then used some of that to buy $40 cash U.S. at 5200 Cz. for border crossings.

Put on some shorts and went to the Rodaviaria and bought my ticket to Campo Grande for 74,000 Cz ($15). When I came back I organized my shit and at 7:45 said good-bye to Senor Antonio and split to Largo do Machado II to see "Shaolin Temple" - goofy monks this time. Ate a Beega Buoba (Big Bob burger). Warm night - my last in Rio for awhile.

Since I didn't have the money but did have the time, I was about to go overland all the way to the highlands, the Altiplano, of Bolivia and Peru.

Fri. - March 22, 1985 Woke at 5:30 AM, ate at 6 and at 6:10 I was off to the Rodaviaria. Bus for Campo Grande split at 7:30. It felt good to be on the road again. I enjoyed the ride - passed the time reading Churchill's, "The Hinge of Fate". At night I listened to some cassettes. I started a Lovecraft-Derleth story. Got lot's of sleep. Had 2 seats to myself all the way.

Sat. - March 23, 1985 Bus hit Campo Grande at 4 AM. At 5:15 the ticket window upstairs from where I arrived opened and they told me I'd have to take the train cuz the road to Corumba was underwater. The train station wasn't awfully far to walk. Bought a ticket when the window opened at 7 AM - 1st class, 17,000 Cz. Train split at 9. I like riding on trains. Slept, read and stared out the window. The last part of the surrounding countryside was all underwater - nice sunset. Hit Corumba at 8 PM, totally filthy. Waited in line 1/2 to get my passport stamped before leaving the station (I'd learned from my last time here in '83). Walked to the J and K where I'd stayed 22 1/2 months ago. 10,000 Cz. Showered - aaahh! - ate chicken.

Sun. - March 24, 1984 Woke early but stayed in bed as long as I could then washed all my t-shirts in the sink in my room. When I went out it was 12:30 and warm - warmer than Rio. I had a toddy down the street then went around the corner and waited for a cambista (money changer) to show. When he came he offered 20, then 21 pesos to the Cz. but I held out and changed 150,000 Cz. at 22 pesos, or at 4900 Cz to the dollar, for 107,800 pesos to the dollar. 3,300,000 pesos.

When I came back to my room I noticed that 12 of the 100,000 Peso cheque notes had written on them that they were good for 90 days after their date of issue, Dec. 21, 1984 - which means they had expired on March 21 - 3 days ago. I went back and the cambista was still there. He explained that the Bolivian government had extended their validity another 20 days, or until April 10.

I bullshitted with the cambistas for about an hour then went to my room. When I was trying to tune in on some football on the radio I heard about a kung-fu double feature here. It turned out to be "Krull" and a kung-fu movie that wasn't so hot. Lots of kids and racket - low contrast.

It was 8 when I left - sweaty night. By 9 I was watching Os Gols Do Fantastico while waiting for lasagna. Flamengo kicked Botofogo's ass 6-1.

Mon. - March 25, 1985 Woke at 6:30 AM - already bright and sunny. Sat around til 10 to 8 then headed for the Bolivian Consulate only to find that I didn't need to visit them and could have entered Boliva today, in which case I would've been on my way to Santa Cruz at 9 AM today in a ferrobus (express train) with 5 people in it. This based on later info.

Anyway I sat on the busstop, waiting for the bus to the border for over an hour and met a Brazilian and Chileno who were pretty neat dudes so we pretty much stuck together after that.

We got on a rickety old bus and for 500 Cr., 10 cents, were whisked away to the frontier. Got my passport stamped at immigration and then we all piled into a cab for Quijarro and the train station for 50,000 Pesos each, 46 cents. It was 11 AM now and we learned that the 11 hr. ferrobus had left at 9 and that there would be no tren rapido, 19 hr, today.

So, all we could do was kill time til the ticket window opened at 7 AM tomorrow morning. Met a Bolivian guy who was pretty neat and a Brazilian soccer player and a Peruvian midget and we all palled around together, bullshitting or staring into the distance.

It was hotter than fuckin' shit with an abundance of flies, dogs and goofs. Blank-eyed Bolivians stared at each other or into nothingness or played cards. Women sold lemonade and other unidentifiable objects, a little boy pushed a cart with a little picture of Donald Duck painted on the side selling "picole". In the evening the Brazilian, Bolivian, Chileno and I sat on a wooden bench and had us some carne, arroz and tomatos with onions, I a double portion - total price with lemondade, $2.

With the setting sun it became evident that sleeping with the mosquitos wouldn't be all that viable a proposition so the Bolivian and I got us a decrepit room nearby for 200,000 pesos each and let the Chileno and Brazilian hit the floor.

Tues. - March 26, 1985 By 5:30 AM I was the first of us to get in line where there were already about a dozen people waiting for the ticket window to open. It opened at 7 and slowly, slowly tickets for the 9 AM ferrobus went on sale. Towards the end I left my place and asked these Bolivians to buy me a ticket. First they said no, then yes, then no, then yes, then finally no. When I returned to my place in line the Brazilian, who I was ahead of, stood in such a way that I couldn't stand in front of him and wouldn't you know it, the last ticket was sold to him. What a prick to sleep on the floor of my room (for free) and then take my ticket. I guess it actually turned out good since as it turned out, I couldn't have left for La Paz til tomorrow anyway, and instead of paying 1,685,000, $15.63 or 1,200,000, $11.13, I paid 350,000, $3.25 opting to pass up pullman - 850,000, $7.88, and 1st class, 550,000, $5.10. When you included not having to pay for a hotel, and dinner in a restaurant I probably saved about $12.

So I stomped around in rage for awhile and went to near the front of the line for the 3 PM tren rapido which was easy cuz there was an open spot in the broiling sun that no one cared to occupy. When the boleteria opened at 9 it was a wrestling match. People were so rude that the ticket man closed the window for awhile in exasperation. It turned out that there were plenty of tickets tho so the killing time again became our main preoccupation.

The 2 Bolivians and I went to our hotel to wring a shower out of the old woman who ran the place. Sit around - bullshit - ate fish and rice with a giant bottle of soda while listening to U.S. blues and rockabilly on my cassette player.

2nd class on the train was great - hotter than shit - straight back seats - no light - 19 hrs.

The train would stop and kids with lemons, cafe, oranges would run up to the windows. At dusk we made a stop where there was a horde of such vendors, putting up a veritable din. I had 2 sticks of yummy salty carne. Later, after trying to sneak into the pullman, the younger Bolivian and I discovered the half-empty restaurant car and I chugged down 2 7-Up's and a Pepsi. Being unable to sit much less sleep in my seat I finally spread out my poncho and half crawled under a seat to sleep.

This younger Bolivian guy and I got close real quick and I took him out between the cars and we smoked a joint. This guy had one of those funny comic books that are done all in photo panels that I always thought were a scream. For some reason him and I just couldn't handle looking at the cover of this comic without breaking out into paroxysms of laughter. The cover showed a close up of a boxer with fake blood painted near his mouth and the title was "Punos Que Matan", Fists That Kill. Me and this Bolivian guy would show each other the cover over and over again and laugh like crazy. The people around us thought we were crazy.

Wed. - March 27, 1985 We arrived in Santa Cruz about 10:30 and the younger Bolivian let me shower, change and stow my pack at the place where he was staying. I headed for centro on a very warm, sunny day to see about getting a flight to La Paz today. Price was 4,200,000 Pesos, $34.50, so I changed $35 in cash at 122,000 Pesos to the dollar cuz they were giving only 105,000 for cheques. But when I got back at noon LAB (Lloyd Aereo Boliviano) was closed til 2:30. Killed time listening to tapes at the Bolivian's place then he and I walked to LAB and then I took a long, hot walk to the terminal for a bus, 60,000 Pesos, 56 cents, to the airport. Plane left at 4:40. We had to change planes in Cochabamba and arrived at night in La Paz - only 50 fucking degrees. Got a room at the Hotel Vienna - $5.83 as opposed to $2.50 last time (in '83). I ate chicken soup at the Verona with flan de leche (pudim) and mate de coco. Felt giddy but not too bad.

Thur. - March, 28, 1985 Went to the Verona and had me some more sopa de Pollo y mate de coco around midday. When I left I had me an awful headache. Sat around in the street waiting for a clothes store to open that gave me a good rate (changing money) the last time I was here. The cambistas and casas will only give me 110 for cheques as opposed to 125 for cash. When the store opened the same guy was there and he remembered me right away but said he too would give only 110 but not til 7 PM. I wandered around a bit and now I really started to feel bad - dry mouth, headache, weak in the knees, nausea. I just barely made it to the hotel. I stayed in the rest of the day and night - slept as much as possible. Every little movement made the back of my neck throb in agony. Feel rotten.

Fri. - March 29, 1985 Felt okay when I woke. Left the hotel about 9:30 and since I had about $3 went straight to the money changes street and was lucky enough to find a guy who took me to an office bldg. where I got 120 so I changed a $50 cheque.

Ate at the gringo cafe and started to get a headache again on the way to the hotel so there I stayed. All day - all night - fuck. Their money here is fucking nuts. Last time I was here the biggest bill in circulation was the 1000 Peso note - now it's the smallest and the 100,000 is the largest. If this happens again then 2 years down the road their largest note will be 10 million pesos. I read "The Furies" and started "A Rose For Ecclesiastes" from a 4 story collection.

Sat. - March 30, 1985 Don't feel too bad - no throbbing. On the other hand the back of my neck doesn't feel normal either. Guess there's nothing for it but to get out there and try and walk around some. Went to the Verona and had a couple of eggs. Afterwards I went to check on bus prices to Puno and - hurrah! - my neck wasn't racked with pain. Stopped at the hotel to pick up the tripod and film and walked to the indian quarter with the vague idea of getting me some finger-less gloves, ma some earrings and looking at sweaters.

La Paz and Mt. Illimani by James May

This was the photo of La Paz and Mount Illimani I was
after that night

Had the throbbing ache in my neck but it was tolerable and would go away if I relaxed. The 1st gloves I ran across were 250,000 - the 2nd 80,000 - the 3rd were 55,000 so I picked up 6 pairs - 3 black - 2 brown and 1 blue for 290,000 Pesos. The indian quarter is a fucking bizarre place for a boy form Minnesota. The women with their omnipresent bowler hats cocked at a jaunty angle and so incongruess with their culture. People here love to walk into you like ants do with each other. The women are born capitalist's and entrepreneurs.

Took myself a long ass hike, not without discomfort but worth it. Took a few pix. Tried to buy a Santos (masked Mexican wrestler movie) poster in a cine but they said come back Monday.

I climbed into a crowde micro-bus and went up to the place near the giant pack of cigs (billboard) that I remembered from the taxi ride from the airport. I got there way too early for dusk and decided to climb down a bit to see if I couldn't find a place to get out of the cold. I ended up watching kids kick around soccer balls for over an hour. When it was time I climbed back up to the road and froze my face off taking photos of the grande vista of La Paz.

It was with relief that I caught a microbus down - seated 'n' everything - watching with keen interest as the night-life of the indian quarter unfolded itself in my descent. The bus took me, luckily enough, right to the theatre where I wanted to check the times for the lastest Dirty Harry flik. Unluckily, the bus was so crowded that I didn't want to try and get off, hoping it would stop and some peope would get off. I exited half a mile further and strait away got another. Ate some chicken in the gringo cafe and afterwards didn't feel like waiting an hour for the flik to start so I went to the hotel and read.

Taking that ride up to the parts of La Paz that looked out high over the city was the little trivial type of pleasure and satisfaction of curiosity that I traveled for. The bus was old and like a scaled down version of an American city bus; so scaled down that I couldn't stand up straight. There were no seats available on the ride up and so I stood on that crowded bus with my head all crooked to one side, marveling at this insight into the real and ordinary side of La Paz; the side of La Paz where people, in this case all indians, did an act as simple as taking a bus ride. For some reason I don't know I craved this glimpse into a culture so different from my own, enjoying the close, musty smell of the rides and sharing of body heat. I enjoyed the way a passenger would say, "Esquina, maestro", which means, "corner, driver". Why they referred to the driver as maestro is anybody's guess. You didn't see any gringos where I was that night because there is nothing up there that would interest a tourist other than, perhaps, the very view I sought for a photo.

Sun. - March 31, 1985 Woke feeling strangely depressed, strange because of my inability to pinpoint the reason. Perhaps it was because of the unsatisfying dreams I had last night, whose after effects sometimes linger into reality. I feel anxious to get on to the Inca Trail. Going downhill back to Brazil and hear and football.

Everything's going decent with money and time. It looks as if I'll be back in Rio sometime during the 1st week in May. A lot depends on how long I'll spend in Cuzco and on the Trail. I'm pretty proud of my little side trip but I do not like cold weather. Thank God for my Minn. background - it must be a nightmare for a Brazilian to do this.

Went to the Verona and ate some shitty chicken, rice and fries. Even the cake was shitty.

It was drizzly when I left so I held up in the hotel the rest of the afternoon, listening to cassettes and the Superclassico between The Strongest and Bolivar. The announcing on 3 different stations was unremarkable.

Towards late afternoon I with difficulty, caught a micro for the steep plaza near the theatre where I'd been the day before. The bus took a really roundabout route but miraculously I got off only a block from the plaza.

Doing flash photography at dusk created such ill feeling among the Bolivians that I only tood 2 or 3 shots. At one point I was surrounded by Bolivians as I tried to explain and have them explain what was happening. They were scared and it made me scared. I felt bad, so, subdued, I walked down. I talked to a cop on the way down, trying to get him to explain why everyone was so tense about photos. He was friendly but a second cop needed some thawing out. I had visions of him finding the joint on me. Very nervous place.

I walked all the way to the cine next to the gringo cafe, feeling my vulnerability. Looked for a pizza place but finally had a couple of burgers.

That weird night in the Indian Quarter, as it is called, was really caused by one guy. It reminded me of one night when I was accosted by a pack of dogs in a small town in Guatemala one night. It was really just one dog that was causing the trouble; without him it would have been no problem. The funny story about that night is that these dogs, maybe 20 or 25 of them were really aggressive. One would dart in behind me and then another when I was distracted. I backed up against the wall of a hut and made myself look as big as possible in my rain poncho, shouting and throwing rocks; it did not good. The funny part is that I suddenly hear a person clap there hands inside some hut close by and the dogs all dispersed, just like that.

I'm not comparing these Bolivians to dogs but they were clearly instigated by just this one guy who kept asking me who I was and why I was here - he was a total asshole. Unfortunately the Indians were listening very closely and a great crowd had surrounded me. Meaning no disrespect, I didn't see the light of reason in the eyes of the people surrounding me and so chose the better part of valor rather than trying to press the point of what the fuck business was it to this guy what I was doing.

Mon. - April 1, 1985 Had a cold adventure to the shower as usual and a little diaria as well. Left about 10:30, warm in the sun. Bought 3 neat little icons outside a church for only 60,000, 50 cents each. Changed a $100 cheque at 122 and bought a ticket, 1,080,000 Pesos, $9,to Puno at the hotel, 7:30 AM departure. I'll be glad to hit the road, but when will I start to spend only $12.50 a day? May have to leave Rio May 21st or 22nd. If Flamengo's not in the championship game I won't mind leaving a few days early. Maybe it'd help me get an apt. on June 1st instead of July 1st. If I can get a neat warehouse space I'd like to do that.

Laid around til about 2 PM and then went on a 2 hr. hunt for some pizza or better yet, spaghetti. Finally, finally I found a little basement dive that had excellent spaghetti. From there I hopped a bus to Plaza San Francisco and bought ma some earrings for 200,000 and 500,000. While doing that I met a friendly teen-ager named Maria Isable and we talked and she came with me awhile. I ate spaghetti again.

So tomorrow it's off to Peru - land of the llamas and thieves. Just holding on to my property should be an accomplishment. Spent too much money today - looks like being on the Trail will be on of my few opportunities to save money.

At least this time I had a backpack and not a fucking suitcase like in '83. My money problems were due to the fact that, just like in 1983, I had decided at the last minute to extend my trip into a side jaunt into Bolivia and Peru. I actually don't remember much about the planning before I left but my original March 25 return ticket shows that I decided to make my trip 2 months longer at the last moment.

Tues. - Apr. 2, 1985 Got up real early and my shitty little bus to Puno picked me up at the hotel about 7:30. At Copacabana I ate some soup and fish and bullshitted with a couple of Columbians. Checked the price of a hotel and it was only 100,000 Pesos, 82 cents at 122 to the dollar, so it looks like I'll save some money when I come back.

We were shoved into a little van for the ride to Puno and crossed the border without problems. I started being more sociable and when I wasn't talking I listened to Marvin Gaye and Michael McDonald. Pretty weird listening to Marvin Gaye while looking at llamas and cruising the shore of Lake Titicaca.

By the time we arrived in Puno I'd made friends with this chick from Calif. I tried to get a room at the Hotel Uros but it was all full so I went to the Hotel Monterrey and got a room with a bath for 19,000 which was $2.65 cuz of the shitty rate I'd traded pesos for soles, 17 to 1 or 7,176 Soles to the dollar at the 122 Bolivian Peso rate. I headed for the train station about 5:30 PM as soon as I got my room and decided to wait around for the ticket window to open at 7. Made friends with a Bolivian chick, ate a lollpop, bullshitted with one of the Dutch guys who came to Puno the same time as I and bought a sweater for 45,000, $6.27, $5.49 if I'd have changed dollars. Bought a buffet ticket for 60,000, $8.40, and then walked to the hotel and had a hot shower. The Calif. girl and I ate together and it was time for bed. Raining.

Wed. - Apr. 3, 1985 Up at 6:30 and off to the station on a grey morning. At the entrance I met one of the cops who helped me get my stolen stuff back 2 years ago. The train ride was freezing cold the first couple of hours, but otherwise fairly boring altho the scenery was nice. We arrived in Cuzco at dusk and I got a free taxi to the same hotel I stayed at before (in 1983) - the Conquistador - only this time it was only 30,000 Soles instead of the $6 I paid last time; $3.57 at 8400 Soles to the dollar. Straightaway I played pinball and ate some cake and later had some good pizza. Peru is very cheap, maybe cheaper than last time. You can buy a dynamite sweater for $10. Wish I knew more about materials.

That women who I referred to as a "Calif. chick" was really good looking and built too. As I recall she was just finishing a stint in the Peace Corp in the region and was doing some traveling around. She lent me her alarm clock the night before the train left and I returned it to her in her hotel bright and early. She was laying naked under her blankets and had that husky, friendly tone in her voice. If I wasn't so broke I would have eaten the price of that ticket and crawled in bed with her. Do you know that all these years later I sometimes think of that? Men.

Thur. - Apr. 4, 1985 Woke probably about 9, I'm not sure. I took a shower, wrote in my journal - finished "The Graveyard Heart" and "The Doors of His Face, The Lamps of His Mouth" thus winding up that book. Left the hotel close to 12:30 and the 1st order of business was to cash some more cheques so I could eat, having only 12,900 Soles. The first place on the plaza said 8,050 and I said nix to that - next door said 8,300 and I signed the cheques but then the airhead broad couldn't get the cash cuz of siesta and I ended up bringing the cheques to a place on Avenida del Sol and they didn't even care they'd already been signed.

The place to rent camping gear was closed so I played pins while it rained. The kid at the camping place said it wouldn't be open til Sat. cuz of Easter but agreed to have a tent for me at 4 PM tomorrow. Frankly, with the holiday I don't know when I'll leave.

I hit the market looking for sweaters and such but nothing caught my fancy. They all say, "Alpace puro es." I bought 6 pairs of fingerless gloves for 27,000, $3.21, and split.

Had cake and milk - bought 2 more pair of gloves for 8,000 Soles and pinned. Pinball costs an amazing 3 1/2 cents. Winston's 60 cents and they don't taste as weak as last time. It's been almost nothing but cloudy.

Had a pizza to go in my room late. Read "The Dreaming City", "While the Gods Laugh" and started the title story, "The Stealer of Souls".

Fri. - Apr. 5, 1985 Sat in for awhile writing in the journal. Everything's screwed up right now cuz of Easter as far as getting my as up on the trail. Casas de Cambio, camping rental, the market and grocery stores all have to be open at once - and that's assuming I can get a ticket the same day the train leaves. Looks like I might not leave til Tues. but I'm going to get up really early tomorrow and try for Sun.

At 2 I left the hotel and ate a whole pizza and a piece of apple pie. Everybody's sittin' around waiting for some procession to start. I bullshitted with some old dude in the plaza for awhile then sat in my room to wait for dusk. Cripes I hope I can get on the trail Sun. - it's fairly boring around here. Well, here I go to shoot their dumb ass procession...

Twasn't much. Maybe got one or 2 good shots. Ate cake and had 3 glasses of yummy milk. Good luck - Vicuna Tours was open and I passed by by coincidence. Based on what I learned there I'm going to leave for Km.88 tomorrow. There's a regular train at 2 PM or thereabouts - I'd arrive at 5 PM and spend the night at Km.88. Normally I'd arrive before noon and have to walk 7 km. with the hard climb to the 1st pass, camping just below it. This way I'll have the whole day to arrive at the 1st pass and with luck arrive at the campsite that is 1/2 hr. after that 4,200 meter pass.

So this is it - I'll be hitting the trail Sun. morning, the 17th day out of Rio - more or less on schedule. I'm happily excited - should be great fun. By this time tomorrow night I should be laying in my tent. I can hardly wait. I should've done it 2 yrs. ago but no matter, I'm set now and I'm really looking forward to 3 solid days of wonderful hiking, sufferin' and all. This is a lot better than La Paz.

Thinking of La Paz I just thought up a good way to get around cheque cashing there. When I get to Cuzco I'll buy $100 with a cheque. It'll only cost 3 or 4 bucks and I'll get that back on the 3-4% I would have lost in La Paz anyway.

Being on the trail and in Aguas Caliente should help my budget out a bit. 7 1/2 weeks to go and I'll be in a plane to MPLS. Have to go sometime and regurgitate energy and photography. Being on the trail will hopefully allow me to enjoy the moment more and stop enjoying the future so much. I'll try and do the same those last days in Rio. I feel good now and I guess the future plays a part in that. Knowing you can make shit up out of your head and then go ahead and make it happen feels good jack. I hope the moon is bright when I spend the night at Machu Picchu. I gotta remember to get a shot of me with the ruins in the background. Guess it's time to read Elric. Night!

Sat. - Apr. 6, 1985 I'm writing this by flashlight in my little tent by the roaring river (at Km.88). Pretty cool, jack! Woke at 6:30, showered, hung around and left at 8 to go buy some junk for the trek. Deviled and pressed ham, bananas, carrots, cookies, jugos (juice), a coke, bread, chocolate, dulces (sweets), shampoo, Nivea, batteries. I'm set motherfucker. I ate steak and tallhirin with a milk at the gringo cafe and ran a slight fever the rest of the day, not feeling so hot. Don't feel that great right now but not too bad.

Changed $40 at 8400 Soles to the dollar then visited Vicuna Tours for my tent - again for a map - again just as they were closing for water purification pills. Took a cab at 11:40 AM to the train station for 3,500 Soles. Waited only a little while and then the doors opened and the rush was on. 12,500 Soles got me a 1st class ticket to Km.88. Back to the hotel to pack and wait. Christ, what a jammed-pack load. I can't believe I'm going to lug that weight, 43 Km. over a 4,200 meter, 13,123 ft., pass. Fuck it! I'm gonna. Walked to the station - hot - sun - tired. Left at 2:30 and the train was the usual nuthouse.

Arrived at dusk and what-ho! - 3 other gringos. They didn't believe the guy who was waiting for us and who wanted 40,000 Soles for entry into Machu Picchu and 8,000 for the trail. One guy got pretty snotty and while they argued I crossed the swaying walk bridge and set up my tent in the failing light. Looked like sure rain when I arrived but now there's nothing but stars.

It wasn't cold at all when I arrived but now it's a little chilly out and nice 'n' warm in the tent. Tomorrow looks to be the toughest day. I'll do it. I should make good time after the 1st pass. I'd better cuz I don't know if I have food for 4 days.

Sun. - Apr. 7, 1985 Don't know when I woke cuz of the clouds but it was fairly early - 7 or 8. Started drizzling when I was tearing down the tent and did so for most of the day with the sky an unremitting gray until late afternoon. My fever broke during the night - lucky thing. Saw no sign of the guy who I was supposed to pay 48,000 so I guess they'll try 'n' peg me at the end. Maybe I can find a path at the hotel that will allow me to skirt the bastards.

I sure felt the weight of the pack as well as my cigs and mere 10 days at this altitude. Just couldn't go, or didn't want to. I haven't felt like breakin' my ass this trip but I'm definitely out of shape too. When I set up my tent my shoes were muddy and soaked. I was sure glad for the dry socks and longjohns so I had something dry to sleep in; pants were too coldy wet. Too beat to write or dig music. Ate a chocolate, a banana and made a sandwich out of that crappy pressed ham. Yechh!. I was pretty warm when I stuck inside the bag. Don't know where the fuck the pass is from here, hope it's close. I was sure glad to get in that fuckin' tent.

Me in my tent on the Inca Trail

Me in my tent at the start of the 2nd day

I'd borrowed an old, heavy army sleeping bag from Winnie and that tent I'd rented wasn't light either. This was the hike I learned that from now on I'd have to have my own tent and sleeping bag that were light, compact and built for hiking and that is just what I did before the next trip.

Mon. - Apr. 8, 1985 So heah ah is in my tent diggin' on "Anselma" (by Los Lobos) and "A Whiter Shade of Pale". If you measure this day in terms of distance walked it stunk. The first pass was a son of a bitch to reach. I started the day takin' a shit inside the tent on a plastic bag (it was cold out), but forgot that when I shit I piss. Oh well - lesson learned.

The 1st pass was beautiful to climb but a real fucker. It seemed to take forever to reach and I rested more than I walked. Pack didn't feel too bad today, but my left arm constantly went numb (from the straps). Coming down from the pass was definitely an improvement but still hard work. To show how pitiful my progress was 2 gringos showed up when I was setting up my tent who'd only started this morning. Oh well, think I'll smoke a cigarette. So - I camped at the river at the bottom of the 2 passes. 2nd pass is way up there too, but looks to be a lot easier that the 1st but that's not saying much.

What a tough day. Gnats would attack me whenever I stopped. I don't know if I ever had a more exhausting climb altho I felt okay at the end. But like I said, I didn't press it at all. It was the highest altitude I ever climbed at and I wanted to take it easy. I see no reason to suck every bit of fun out of the trek. I'd go 15 ft. in 20 sec. and stop for 2 min. Cripes I'm surprised I've gotten this far. Anyways looks like 4 days for sure. The volcanos in Guatemala are a lark compared to this. Nice to have music, Prince and deviled ham.

I should say something about what I have heard a lot from other gringos, almost all Europeans, about hiking the Inca Trail. Almost to a man they try to do the Trail as fast as they can, bragging about how they did it in 2 days or 3. To come so far to such a magnificent place and to have such an attitude strikes me as plain idiocy. If you don't understand why you never will.

Tues. - Apr. 9, 1985 Beginning of 3rd day on the trail. The 2 gringos left before I did. The 2nd pass was a steep climb but nowhere near a terror as that 1st pass. Made good time going down. When I was approaching the ruins of Sayajmarca it started to rain. I got totally soaked and my shoes were sopped thru and thru from the puddles and mud. The clouds were so thick that I couldn't tell what time of day it was until a little after 3 when this German showed with a watch and I was surprised at how much time was left. Slogging thru jungle terrain I emerged finally to the 3rd pass and the ruins of Puyopatamarca. Just before reaching the ruins a German couple and an American guy with a Swiss girl passed my lazy self up but we all of us decided to spend the night at the ruins from which there was a superb view.

I picked out a site on a balcony and set up my tent in front of a wall on a piece of ground strewn with straw. God, out of those soaked pants and shoes and into my blessedly dry longjohns. Just as I was getting set to make a treat of deviled ham Steve (the American) came down and offered me some hot food. Boy, and I'd been just sitting there cursing them for not offering me some hot chocolate. And it was good. I wore my shorts and weird gloves and sat in front of their tent til the light failed. Later I had my precious can of Pepsi but the deviled ham sandwich, only half of which I ate now seemed like shit. Rain had stopped 1/2 hr. before the ruins.

The section from the 2nd to the 3rd pass is my favorite. Much of it is flat an there is little climbing and there are those ruins of Sayacmarca or however they're properly spelled. My favorite thing is walking through sub-tropical vegetation along this road that is built of stone and for a very long distance. You go past a couple of green lakes and it's so weird being in this totally uninhabited valley knowing that hundreds of years ago there were Incas living here. You can almost feel the ghosts that once trod this elevated constructed road around you. It's just a fantastic experience. At one point you go through a tunnel carved or enlarged out of the rocky hillside.

Wed. - Apr. 10, 1985 So the 20th day out of Rio de Janeiro would be the far end of my excursion ending after 27 mi. of hiking at the ruins of Machu Picchu. Woke at dawn and thankfully packed up that accursed and wet tent and bag. Soaking wet socks and shoes and I was set. Strange how even tho it didn't rain the bag and tent were wetter than ever. Wasn't cold and warmed nicely. I was the 1st to leave and made excellent time down to Huinay-Huayna. Steve and Bergey (the American and Swiss girl) caught up just before. We sat on a terrace and lazed in the sun. From there it was around the mountain to Inti Punku which we reached at it started to rain which stopped before we hit the runs. I got some good photos all with a light yellow filter as the sun peeked out of the clouds.

I then went down to exit and they never asked for a ticket so I was home free. Took the bus, 7,500 Soles, 89 cents, to the river and trudged the last miserable km. in the rain. Got a room for 9,000 Soles, $1.07, and shortly went up to the hot springs and got 4 days of grime and weariness to go away, 1,000 Soles, 12 cents.

Then Steve and Bergey were sitting at my restaurant as I headed for spaghetti, 5,000 Soles, 60 cents, and had a 2nd but 4 Sprites caught up with me. Fell asleep for a little while and awoke with a grand thirst. Went out as some gringos woke the boy up, lucky, and by more luck found a limon and Croosh (lemon Crush) for my room. Still real thirsty afterwards. 6 1/2 pops since 2 PM. Different kind of day. Tomorrow time will catch up and the trail will seem like a weird dream. Anyhoo - I done did it. I don't think I could have survived another day of tinned shit. My back gave me absolutely no problems and the injury seems almost healed. I pulled a muscle farther up on my back yesterday but it went away as I slept. Winnie's bag sure was warm. Despite all the misery of the trail it sure put off thoughts of Rio or MPLS. From here on in it's downhill back to Rio. Even if I take 27 days to return I'll still have 3 wks. left there. If it's not sunny in Puno I'm going to skip Taquile and anyways I can sun on some rocks in Copacabana (Bolivia) just as well.

So another dream becomes history and for right now I'm fresh out which means I take it easy. The trail didn't seem so long as it did arduous. Still, 8 mi. a day with 50 lb. on your back is nothing to snort at. I really liked the high passes and low valleys. So secluded.

Luckily for me there is a winding, descending staircase that is unbelievably long and steep one takes on the last day and that was only opened to hikers that very year of 1985. It was in pristine condition considering it age, I guesss because it had only recently been cleared away and been exposed to the elements only a matter of weeks. We were some of the 1st tourists to ever use it.

My how things have changed on the Inca Trail and not for the better. They charge $50 now to do the Trail and apparently you cannot do it without a guide. Even more incredibly, there is a limit of 500 hikers a day and that gets sold out in the high season. I read on some website that of those 500 people, maybe 200 to 250 are tourists. The rest are guides, porters, cooks and whatnot. What a sorry shithole the Inca Trail has become. Why the fuck would I want to do something like that with a guide; you don't need a guide, the trail is relatively easy to follow. I have used guides twice trekking but I needed them or I would have got lost; once in the deep Guatemalan jungle up in the north and once for my first time up Pacaya Volcano also in Guatemala. You're not going to get lost on the Inca Trail. Oh well, there are plenty of places in the world to go to where you can trek and be completely alone and not hassled. Backpackers are always ahead of the crowds and right this minute are trekking some crazy beautiful place completely on their own and for free.

High season for the Inca Trail is June to August and you're now supposed to book well in advance. When I'm backpacking I often know weeks or even a few months ahead of time what I'm going to do but I ofter change my itinerary and don't like the idea of booking for anything. The problem with hiking the Inca Trail June to Aug. is that there's no water up there cuz it's the dry season. The 2 times I've hike the Trail were during the wet and there are still functioning Inca spouts to draw water from so I never had to carry 4 days worth of water; June to Aug. you wll.

Thur. - Apr. 11, 1985 My 21st day out of Rio, still cold in MPLS I imagine. Don't know what time it is - it's sunny. I feel like doing nothing and an faithfully following this feeling. Off I go now for some lomo saltado and cold Sprites; turned out it was 11:30. Mmmm... 3 Sprites and the food was good. Sat and listened to Eric Clapton Live. Slept the afternoon away. Woke and started "Kings In Darkness". Nice to have a lazy day. Tomorrow I think I'll get up early and spend the day at the ruins and then catch the 6:30 train to Cuzco. Should be in Puno on the 13th - Copacanbana the 14th - La Paz the 17th - Cochabamba the 18th - Corumba the 22nd - Rio the 25th. Leaves me with 5 days slack time if I wish to have 4 wks. in Rio.

Finished "Stealer of Souls" - started "The Sailor On the Seas Of Fate". Well soon it will be time to chow down some spaghetti and drink lots of pop. Just as I left I got the 1st of the fucking egg burps finally (a sure sign of giardia). I guess it was inevitable - fuck. I'm thinking that maybe it's all the pop I drink that causes it tho if it's the acidity that's the problem I don't see why tetracycline would help. Don't feel bad yet but the egg burps are a sign of getting real sick without the pills.

From standing around earlier with my ass (thromboid) popped out I have developed a lot of pain there. I couldn't sleep all night cuz of the pain. I know I'll have diaria in the morning cuz my stomach is active and I fart all the time. The occasional burp tastes like eggs but at least I don't feel sick. What a painful night. Read and finished the whole Elric book.

Fri. - Apr. 12, 1985 Slept briefly - woke at an indefintie time. Gray and drizzly out so that screws going to Machu Picchu. I don't think I can sit around a whole other day and night waiting for sun tomorrow. Had to shit upon awakening. Wouldn't you know it they had the shower locked. When I returned to the room the pain at least wasn't worse. Gods, what did I do to myself? Stomach seems normal but it probably only temporary. Can't be getting diaria on the train so I'll probably have to take a tetracycline sooner or later. Haven't farted or burped in the 20 mins. since I shit so it's cross fingers. What a miserable bunch of crap. Fuck I'm pissed and my ass still hurts.

Woke again and was surprised to find it was only noon. Had to shit again but I don't have egg burps, at least right now, so maybe it's over. Went over and had lomo saltado and had them play some Gaye (my cassette on their stereo), James (Etta),etc. One guy wanted to buy the tape.

Decided to wait one more day to see if maybe it'll be sunny tomorrow. I'd like to have a day in the ruins. I'll have them get me up at 6:30 or 7 and if it's really rotten out maybe I'll split on the 8:30 train. If it's decent out I'll have til 3 PM in the ruins or if I really want to, maybe I'll stay in the ruins til closing and stay yet another night. All depends on the weather. Bought some paper to pass the time writing letters. Ass still hurts good. Lucky I didn't get this bullshit on the trail. Betcha the hot bath'd help out my ass if it could soak to the inside.

Slept - woke once in a while to hear "All Night Long" by L. Ritchie or "Girls Just Want To Have Fun" by Cyndy Laupner being played over a horribly distorted loud speaker (out in the town square). Had weird dreams of gringos arriving on the train. It was a clear dusk when I woke which I hope bodes well for tomorrow.

6 1/2 weeks and I'll be back in the berg. Boy it's been a long time. Summer to summer. Right now the hockey and basketball play-offs are in full swing - wonder if the (North) Stars have been eliminated? Baseball is in it's 1st week. It's raining and 55 or 60 in MPLS I'll bet. I'm anxious to be back in Rio. The only 2 stops I want to make are Copacabana and Cochabamba. I wanna lay on the beach and take it easy and be warm, eat cheeseburgers, go to a flik. Maybe Dune's playing by now. I'm gonna get real dark before I hit MPLS. Should be lots of sunny days in Rio by the time I get back. It'll only get closer from here on in.

So now my overwhelming curiosity about the Inca Trail has been satisfied and it was a pretty cool thing to do. I think I'll do it again sometime - but in the dry season - with hot food and a companion. Fuck it's boring waiting for tomorrow to come with a sore ass. Wrote Kevin a letter. Took another painful dump - no fun. Ate spaghetti and had a couple of hot chocolates. My butt hurts. The stars are out tomight so hopefully it'll be a clear day tomorrow.

Being in Peru has been good for my money. From a high of 13.48 a day 10 days ago in La Paz I've dropped my average to 12.98 a day. $13.23 a day to spend in the next 45 days; $14.89 for 40 days. My fucking butt hurts. At least no egg burps today. I need a good solid shit jack. Fuck! What a long shitty day. Wouldn't even mind the diaria without the pain. Can't wait to feel normal and comfortable. Hasn't been much of that since hitting La Paz.

Me and Machu Picchu

My one day in the ruins

Sat. - Apr. 13, 1985 Took 2 instant shits and a nice shower on a sunny morning before leaving for the ruins. Had the egg burps and still had diaria so I finally took a tetracycline and that was the end of it. My butt stopped hurting early in the day and right now after midnight in Cuzco it feels fine so I'd finally be normal but now my left ankle is all swollen up and inflamed from all the insect bites I took today at the ruins. Real tender. Hurts like a fucker when it's touched in certain places but is alright if I set still.

So I had my sun in the ruins - took some shots of me with the ruins in the background - some with flash on manual but only the red recharge light would come on cuz I'd accidentally left it on the other day. Got some of the ruins with the magenta Fl-Day filter.

Came back at 3 and got a 1st class ticket to Cuzco but ended up standing all the way, or rather, sitting on top of a backrest listening to the whole Marvin Gaye, Etta James, Michael McDonald, Van Morrison tape and half of Prince. 5hrs. went by slow. Got my old room, ate cake. Asshole deskboy broke my tripod leg in Aguas Calientes.

I don't remember for sure why I waited so long to take that tetracycline. I recall talking to a doctor, I think in Cuzco, about Tetracycline. He was the guy who told me Tetracycline shouldn't work on something like Giardia, especially just one pill as one usually requires a regimen. He told me that Tetracycline kills all the good bacteria for digesting food in your stomach. That time in Machu Picchu was when I learned that, despite how Tetracycline should work, it really is good for fending off Giardia and not only that but will fix it instantly. In retrospect it seems stupid to have put off taking that pill. I was so dehydrated from the diaria that my skin was flaking in places on my legs and arms.

Sun. - Apr. 14 Don't know when I awoke cuz I stayed in most of the day. Read the 1st 90 or so pages of "The Einstein Intersection" then slept again. Swelling on my ankly went down and I feel pretty good physically for a change. Went over to the gringo cafe at 5 and had chicken 'n' cake. Wandered around a bit and decided I should catch the 8 AM train to Puno in the morning and with this in mind I bought $200 cash U.S. at 9,800 Soles to the dollar and changed a $50 cheque at 9,400 as well as buying the lion jar (Inca pottery replica) at the same store for 20,000 Soles.

Came back to the hotel to pay my 60,000 bill. Just when I opened the door to my room to go and return the tent the lights went out and there was an explosion in the distance. When I got downstairs with my flashlight there were shots (machine gun fire) being fired outside and they were sealing the front door of the hotel as fast as they could. After 5 mins. I went out but Vicuna Tours never did open the sons of bitches.

Ate some shitty pizza then returned to the hotel for a shave and a nice hot shower. Looks like I might have to hang around here another day cuz of Vicuna Tours. At least I'm free of maladies - boy what an awful thing that diaria is. Well I hope the terrorists had their election day fun.

Pretty laconic and matter of fact entry considering I was so near a terrorist attack by the Shining Path; at least I mentioned it this time which I didn't do in '83. Not much fazes me I guess or maybe I'm just an idiot. Once again, as in '83 at the exact same hotel, an explosion in the distance knocked out the power and there was some kind of attack on the National Guard station right around the corner. When I came downstairs to the lobby they were pulling down the heavy metal shutter that can cover the entire front of the entrance. It took me a few minutes to talk the hotel folks into letting me out; they thought I was nuts. I was more concerned about getting my tent back so I wouldn't be charged another day and so I could leave early in the morning.

Vicuna tours was at the opposite corner from me diagonally across the Plaza de Armas. When I emerged from the hotel into the night, indians were hiding crouched down behind pillars supporting the arcade that covers the sidewalk. I strutted confidently across the totally deserted plaza and part way across I looked behind me and the indians were following in my wake in single file. I guess they wrongly figured I knew it was safe and so they put some weird trust in me. So that was election day in Peru and the mini-civil war between the government and the rebels was really heating up; many campesinos would die that year.

Mon. - Apr. 15, 1985 Woke at 6:15 with the slim hope of returning the tent and still making the 8 AM train to Puno. Luck was with me and I did exactly that. 60,000, $6.44 to Puno. Train ride was overlong and boring. Listened to a couple of tapes, ate 2 lunches, read Churchill sporadically, looked out the window, slept a bit after lunch. We arrived an hour after dusk and I got a room at the Hotel Lima for 19,000 Soles, $2.02. Wandered over to Puno's gringo cafe and had apple pie and a very good Chinese dish. Bullshitted and laughed with the Indian women who sell stuff outside the cafe before and after eating.

Read the 1st 45 pages of "The Stainless Steel Rat". I feel pretty lazy and unagressive about seeing new things and places or doing photography. There are good photographs all about but usually a little out of the way and I'm just inclined to say fuck it.

I've made a lot of entries in my journals about photography and the sad truth is that I wasn't a very good photographer in those days. I had the right idea and did get some good shots but I didn't have the right mindset; my priority should have been to have more film but these trips were done on a real shoestring and so that was that. Also, a lot of the stuff I shot was simply shit.

Tues. - Apr. 16, 1985 Good long night's sleep. Still feeling lazy I should go to Juliaca and see the market and do some photography. Went out after 1 PM on a nice sunny day. Bought a paper and ate some chicken, fries, rice and cake. Bought some envelopes and addressed them while sunning on a bench in my t-shirt. Sent off a letter to Kevin and cards to ma, Terry 'n' Sue, and Dick and Gale at Barry-Richards Gallery. Spent the rest of the afternoon til dusk in the market looking at sweaters and bought a nice big sweater, real thick, for 35,000 Soles - only $3.72. That's fucking incredible. It's big enough to wear over the other sweater I bought and real warm. Tomorrow I'm going to try 'n' buy a fine alpaca sweater I was looking at. I should stock up on these fine bargains before I enter Brazil cuz who knows when I'll be this way again, if ever. Had a piece of apple pie and came to the hotel.

Think I'll pick up a scarf tomorrow maybe. Feel good about being here now. Finally I've got some decent sweaters that fit for those damn Minn. winters and this time I ain't gonna shrink 'em. I think I'll get 3 or 4 more at these prices. Nice 'n' warm! I'm gonna have me a collection by the time I get back, Jack. Shit what a bargain. Imagine buying 5 sweaters like I got today for under $20. It's just unbelievable.

Had that good China dish. Took a shower - a smoke. With the way the weather has been I'm tempted to go to Taquile. It'd sure be nice to hang out there on a nice sunny day like today, writing or reading on a rock. I guess I could do the same thing in Copacabana.

Time sure goes slow when I'm down here. Hard to believe it's been only 5 1/2 mo. since I left. Going on this trip was a great thing to do. I've done an awful lot of stuff. From the ruins of Tikal and the top of an active volcano in Guatemala to the eve of the new year in Rio - and Rock In Rio and Carnival and all those other Rio days - to the Inca Trail in Peru it's been a good time.

The days in Rio seem so far off but it was only 26 days ago. I'm glad I get to come back. Should be a nice lazy, warm time with lots of reading on the beach, cheeseburgers, Maracana', Shark, frango assado ao molho and photography.

My feelings about returning to MPLS are definitely mixed but mostly good I think. It'll be nice to have my books and pulps, to watch movies on T.V. while eating Dulono's pizza, to ride my bike on warm summer nights and jump rope by the lake, to play 8-Ball Deluxe, to eat potato chips, go to the Uptown (theatre), look at my slide, pat Doo-Doo (ma's dog I kinda grew up with), see ma and Randy, wear my (vintage) overcoats and bowling shirts, sweaters and gloves, a 9:30 Twins game on T.V., mashed potatos and peanut butter 'n' jelly sandwiches, milk, McDonald's, Whopper, Wendy's, Old Gold's, romance, football picks, photography.

Well, that's quite a list; I'd love to know what a therapist makes of that one. If I didn't know better I'd guess I was brought up in a trailer park. What can I say - a large part of me has always been made up of white trash and that is that. What can I say - I'm a simple-minded guy and probably a simpleton as well; both show in my journals. I think one of the coolest things you can do is to just ride a bike, play frisbee on a warm summer day, take a baseball glove and baseball and play catch. Later in my life, in the 1990's, I used to have dreams of running at night and there was a kind of simple joy and lyrical quality to those dreams. In 2000, when I had an apt. in Rio de Janerio for 4 months, I used to go running at night around Lake Rodrigo Freitas. With magnificent granite hills and the starry outlines of the highrises running that lake took on the quality of a dream. After that, the dreams stopped.

I'm afraid the next 4 weeks or so of entries in this journal do not show me at my best; greed and stupidity in equal measure are the order of the day - a crucial, momentary bit of luck as well - showing my lucky star had not deserted me entirely.

Wed. - Apr. 17, 1985 Nice night's sleep. Another sunny day. Sat in bed and wrote Winnie a letter. Feels nice to hang out and have decently warm days. Ho hum, life is such a chore. Today my main order of business will be to look at sweaters. Mailed off Winnie's letter and ate chicken, fries, rice and pancakes. Sat in the plaza in the warm sun waiting for a casa de cambio to open and finally mozied over there and changed $15 U.S. at 8,900 Soles to the dollar. After that it was ff to the market where I hung out til dark. I bought an all dark grey very soft sweater for 85,000, less than $10, that was sold to me as being baby alpaca but which turned out to be processed alpaca mixed with other fibers. Same story with the other sweater for which I paid a 10 dollar bill and 5,000 soles. Fucking liars. Anyway, I like the sweaters and have a real need for them back home. Bought a ticket to go to Copacabana tomorrow for 20,000. Ate lomo saltado.

Thur. - Apr. 18, 1985 Woke at 6:30 AM and later on took the boring ride to Copacabana. Got a room at the same colorful and immaculately clean hotel I had here 2 yrs. ago, tho not so cramped this time. Price: 100,000 Pesos - 82 cents. I bought a bunch of miniature cans and such for 240,000 Pesos - $1.97, then ate lunch for 220,000 - $1.80. Had a short nap then rushed up cross (Calvario) hill for sunset cuz I was late. Took flash shots of me - the last ones with the blue gel and the flash on manual and a heavy yellow filter on the lens. Everything was F.4 at 4, 8, 16 or 32 sec. except the last 3 or so at F.8 45 to 75 sec.

Ate chicken. Finished off "The Stainless Steel Rat". Not bad. Running out of shit to read. Maybe if I'm in La Paz long enough I can run down some SF. What lazy times. Hard to believe I'll be in Rio in about 12 days (it would be twice as long as you'll see). Wouldn't you know it - now the cold doesn't bother me and I've been feeling great.

Just finished checking out my money. $482.62 left. It's enough but I might have to leave Rio 3-5 days earlier than May 27. There's the sweaters in Cochabamba and the flight out of there and the train to Quijjarro (the Bolivian frontier) and the bus to Rio. May be leaving Rio even sooner than I think. We'll see. At least it'd help out getting an apt. June 1. I'm sure keeping my fingers crossed that Jim sold a pic, or Gale ( the owner of Barry-Richards Gallery) or thom did, or that I got a grant. If none of the above at least Andy'll have a little cash to start me up again, or I can sell that black Leica, or coins. Something good will happen, I know. I'll have to hit the brick's this summer and winter promoting my photography - galleries, magazines, stock photography 'n' shit. Hope the customers are there (weed talk). A little aggressive salesmanship will net me some fast cash and a lot of it. Hah! I'll do it just like last time - even better. No problem, Jack. I have good feelings about money in my future (and it would prove true).

I'll have some nice shit from this trip to take with me - great experiences and memories, happy times, good photos, nice sweaters and gloves, no winter, no MPLS sorrowful boringness. Hah-had, mutherfucker.

Fri. - Apr. 19, 1985 When I woke it was gray and drizzly - so much for rock climbing. Sat in for a couple of hrs., finishing off an 11 pg. letter to Andy telling him what I've been up to since leaving Rio 28 days ago. My 29th day out of Rio and it seems so long ago. Still got lots of traveling ahead to get there.

When I left my room it was 3:30. Wanted to take a shower but there was no water til 5 PM, so I went to eat and had bread with jelly and butter, soup, and a steak, egg and rice. Afterwards I bought a silly religious piece for 400,000 Pesos - $3.28 at the 122 Pesos to the dollar I changed before leaving Bolivia. It has the Virgin Mary enclosed in glass with a X-mas bulb inside. I love it already. I'm just about out of room to carry shit and Mary will have to be carried in a handbag. Should be fun if I buy a couple more sweaters and then on reaching warm weather have to pack the 2 sweaters and jacket I've been wearing. I cut the shoe box the lion jar came in down to half it's original size so that'll be a little more room in the pack.

Took a shower when I got back to the hotel - b-r-r-r! At least I haven't been forced into taking a cold shower yet. Clouds spoiled my day today - hope it's nice and sunny tomorrow. If it's cloudy I think I'll split at noon. I sure own a lot of neat stuff - nice overcoats, sweaters and scarfs, leather bags, hammocks, foreign cigs, pulps, books, photos. What a life.

I've pretty much satisfied my little dreams for now and don't have any itches to scratch for the time being. What more could you ask for than to pass the winter as I did? Now for a nice lazy summer with some cash waiting - I guess that's what I want. Can't wait to edit my slides too. But there's nothing I want as bad as I wanted the last 2 trips. For sure there's nothing I badly want that's beyond my reach.

It's sure been a good trip - I can't realistically imagine it being much better. I'd like to spend part of the winter of 86-87 in Rio. Went out and had chicken after starting a letter to Karina. Finished it when I got back. Got small - laid around.

Me above Copacabana, Bolivia

Me sunning up in the rocks with Calvario Hill
and Lake Titicaca behind me

Sat. - Apr. 20, 1985 Got up fairly early on a mostly sunny day. Hiked up into the rocks and sat in the sun a goodly time. Listened to music, took a couple of pix of myself with a red gel on the flash and the flash on manual. Got a slight sunburn. Ate some fish.

Today I bought 2 tiny figurines of the Virgin Mary enclosed in glass and wood with a light inside. 150,000 Pesos each. Right now I'm thinking I should buy 4 more for 4 of my US dollars. 1 for Thom, Dick, Ma and Winnie, Andy or Kevin. Sounded like such a good idea that I just ran out and ordered 4 more. I'm to pick them up in half an hr.

Picked up 4 for 4 U.S. dollars. Came back to the room for my gear and trudged up Calvario. Took shots of Copacabana at F.4 - 8, 16 and more sec. - first with the FL-Day and then with the heavy yellow filter. Took about 10 flash shots of myself. Ate pollo milanesa at a hotel. Felt the egg burps coming on so I took a Tetracycline just before I ate.

Hard to believe I'll be in MPLS in about 30 days. What with a flight out of Cochabamba, sweaters and the shit I want to buy in Rio I doubt if I can make it til May 27th. May 20 or thereabouts is more likely.

Tomorrow it's off to La Paz. With luck I can question TAM if they fly to Quijarro or LAB if I have to fly to Santa Cruz, figure out how much money to change, change it, and get a bus out to Cochabamba the next day. I sure hope TAM flies to the frontier - I really don't want to take a train to the border. I know TAM does Santa Cruz-Quijarro but that's as far as my info goes. I'll cross my fingers cuz I don't even want to see Santa Cruz. Once I hit Corumba I'll only be 36 hrs. from Rio if I make a good train bus connection. Maybe the road is dry now and I can take a bus to Campo Grande. Anyways, 10 days to Rio.

Sun. - Apr. 21, 1985 Woke at 6 AM, fell asleep, was reawakened at 6:30. It was raining pretty good - a good day to leave. Caught the 7:30 bus to La Paz for 150,000 Pesos. I was sandwiched between 2 derby-hatted indian broads for the monotonous 4 1/2 hr. journey. It was sunny when the bus stopped. I walked a long ways and when I was close to the Hotel Avenida I ran into a Brazilian couple I talked with briefly in Copacabana. Without even checking out the Avenida I went with them to their hotel, the Hotel Austria. Seemed like a nice place - only 200,000, but they had no singles only doubles. At first I said no to that but then said, fuck it, I'll pay the 400,000. Then the guy said I'd have to wait til 3 and I didn't feel like waiting so I split and walked around the area a while but ran into not one hotel. So I hiked all the way back to the Avenida only to find the cheapest room was 700,000. I finally got a room for 280,000 at the weird and ugly Hotel Pullman.

Next I walked to the block of the cambistas. I got some guys to agree to change but I wanted to go around the corner and then they said that we were being followed by 2 plainclothesmen and took off saying they'd meet me at the Verona. I was going to order something and wait when I suddenly remembered that I didn't have enough money. I left and was going to make my way around the block to reapproach the cambistas when I amazingly bumped into the Australian dude from the robbery in Puno 2 yrs. ago. We stood on the corner talking for awhile and then when his girlfriend showed up she helped me change $20 at 165,000 Pesos to the dollar.

Afterwards we went to the basement place with the good spaghetti and I ate and talked. I hung around a little while after they left. When I split to check out the time of "The Killing Fields" down the street who should hail me from a passing cab but Tome, the guy I had a short conversation with outside my room at the Hotel Lima in Puno. He invited me for a drink and we went up to the Plaza's bar and had 3 cuba libre's each. He talked about hiring me to do some photography at some jungle lodge in Peru he's involved in. Thomas Remy.

His girlfriend got me a hotdog and we had pizza and went to see "Sudden Impact" with Eastwood. Soon after I took a cab to my dungeon at the Pullman for 30,000 - 18 cents. The movie was only 48 cents.

Mon. - Apr. 22, 1985 Went to TAM across the way to see if there were flights from Cochabamba to the frontier. There was one but only on Monday's, 6,145,000 - $37.24. It was around 11, too close to the noon check out hour to check anymore info so I changed hotels. Austria still had nothing but I got a nice room with a balcony at the Yanacocha across the street for 400,000 - $2.42.

I sat on the balcony in the sun for awhile then took a shower and put on clean jeans after wearing the other ones since leaving Aguas Calientes. A white shirt, my new grey sweater around my shoulders and I felt good. I went to the Vienna to see what Tom was up to. He went to see about his jeep and I went to have spaghetti. He met me there later and we bullshitt and had te con te's. We changed some money and then had another te con te. I changed $20 at 165,000 Pesos to the dollar.

We walked the streets in the night, had a hamburger, hit a couple of farmacias about dilaudid. A 9 we met his girlfriend who brought along my blind date - not much improvement over Ersilla. We drank our fill of cuba libres and Tom shared (coke) while we sat at a dark club. We were there til after 1 AM then hit a disco called Love City. Right. The tub wanted to kiss and have me feel her tits. Big deal. Got back to the hotel in rather roundabout fashion about 4:30 AM.

Didn't take long for Tom and I too realize a mutual interest in prescription drugs. I had liked pain killers a bit back home but it was never a big deal. Growing up in my neighborhood we all did all kinds of drugs as a matter of course. It had never occurred to me to think about copping prescription drugs in Latin America. I didn't know why Tom hung out with me but he seemed to enjoy my company. He knew I was down on money and couldn't afford drinks at the Plaza or night clubs so he paid for everything. Night clubs and discos weren't my thing in the States and this was even more true when I was travelling; I was interested in a more cultural, outdoorsy experience and not sluts. I hung out with Tom because of the promise of a job and eventually the idea of getting some prescription drugs in La Paz was bandied about. Farmacia's are incredibly cheap and I could bring the pills back to the states and it would help me with a stake to get a fast start on my finances once back home. So, that was what was happening with Tom.

Tom was one of those real social guys, a "people" person who liked the idea of being an inside guy, someone who had connections and could get things done. He was part con man I felt but I didn't have any money so though I kept a weather eye on him I wasn't worried. I took what he said with a grain of salt but was willing to spend some time to see if some of his ideas would pan out. They didn't but I eventually came out sweet from meeting him cuz he gave me an idea and I made some good dough once I got home. With the way I made my living back home it was a natural to buy some pills - it had simply never occurred to me to raid pharmacy's in Latin America until I met Tom. I was a backpacker and my mind was a thousand miles away from thinking about that on my own.

Tues. - Apr. 23, 1985 Got up around noon - no hangover. Sat around a little while - mailed letters to Andy and Karina. Ate a steak, walked around - made my way to the train station for info about the ferrobus to Cochabamba. Before and after I bought 80 valium - for about 10 cents each. That's about $120 for a hardship nest upon my return. It'll cost $5 for 50 more - I should do it. That'd be $195 for the 1st couple of wks. Sorely needed I should add.

Hope Tom can get me a spot on the booked up flight from Santa Cruz to the frontier. I don't feel like taking their stupid train. Went to visit Tom at 5 PM but he wanted to sleep a little more so I'm sitting at the Verona. I just had flan and a milkshake. I'll go see Tom in a little while. I gotta get him to get me some dilaudid. Between those and the val's I shouldn't have any pain for quite awhile in my back. Actually my back has been pretty good but there's still something wrong there.

Getting close to dusk now - been mostly cloudy with a little rain. I think I'll buy my train ticket tomorrow and split Thurs. I'm not in such a hurry now and the cold doesn't bug me anymore. Train ride should be nice. I'm gonna take it easy to Rio. Well, I guess I should go roust out Tom now.

I did and we met Inez and Ersilla and went and had pizza. We walked around looking for ice cream but gradually this turned out to be a search for drug stores and liquid morphine. Tom went to the length of going to clinics for a prescription, a farmacia for morphine and another for an injection. Then we hit the Plaza for milkshakes, hot dogs and such. I ate a couple of val's and we were there for awhile. We cabbed the girls and ourselves home. I felt pretty good when I got to the hotel - didn't stay up long. Got 50 more val's for 375,000 Pesos.

Wed. - Apr. 24, 1985 Dont know what time it is - sun's up at a slant so it must be pretty early. Slept like rocks asleep. Took a nice hot shower. Can't wait to hear from Tom. Gods what a time I'll have if he comes thru. When my sometimes really painful slipped disc hurts I'll be able to sit without squirming from the pain and walk without wincing. Of course when I get home I can just see a doctor which I can't afford here.

Will it really happen or what? Never does - give me a break this time. Fucked around all day - no pills - no break. We drank - I escorted Tom home. Looked for smokes in the rain - cabbed home.

My back was fucked up a long time off and on - from around 1976 to the mid-90's. One of the worst years was 1986, the year of my big trip to SE Asia. My back went out 6 times that year and I limped around SE Asia though I didn't let it stop me from doing a thing. Only in 1987 did I figure out with the help of a doctor that it was probably a tendency of one of my disc's to bulge and create a back spasm. When that would happen I was crippled and in extreme pain; I remember my back going out in MPLS and I used my bicycle as a walker to get around my apt. and I suffered terrible spasms. Finally, in 1997, as part of my resurgence from the brink, I did a lot of yoga and a lot of exercising and solved my back problem permamently. Oddly enough I went on from there to work warehouse jobs from late 1997 to 2007 where it was common for me to lift 20,000 lbs. a day. Other than a couple episodes that were related to that work, I have never had to go through months of on again off again pain and disability. Another oddity to me is that I never really did pain killers during those years of painful episodes.

Thurs. - Apr. 25, 1985 Showered and split about 11:30. Ate spaghetti and split at 12:30 to see Tom. Ran into him about a half a block from the Vienna. We fucked around - no pills. He promised me a grand but so far he's been full of shit.

Fri. - Apr. 26, 1985 Woke around noon. Sat in the sun on my balcony for awhile. About 1 I split to see Tom. Ran into Inez (his girlfriend) down the block. She was bringing Tom some food so we went there together and I chowed down. Tom said he wanted to sleep for an hour and that he'd buy tickets to Cochabamba and get the money from his lawyer, then come around my hotel. I slept til 5 PM but when I went to his hotel he was still asleep. I wanted that grand so bad that I went all over hell looking for his lawyer but nothing. Bought 3 ampules of liquid morphine and ran into Tom with another dude.

Later we all went to cop but nothing so while they ate pizza I drank the 2nd vial. They left me at Charlie's and that was my night. Tomorrow I'm supposed to get the grand , a bunch of diluadids and split with Tom to Cochabamba. Personally I doubt any of it will happen.

Sat. - Apr. 27, 1985 I was right - none of it did. I just came back from eating some good Chinese food. Ate 3 vals before leaving the restaurant. I can feel them starting to kick in. Woke at 9 today - nice and sunny. Went to get Tom up before 10 but he said come back 1 1/2 hrs. later, same bullshit - 45 min. later same shit and I said fuck it. I napped til 5 PM then went to the Vienna but he'd just split. Decided to hit the old man (at this pharmacy) for some morphine but it was closed and who should I see across the street but Tom, hailing a taxi.

After that we went taxing around so Tom could find some morphine and a fit. I ate spaghetti while he unsuccessfully tried to hit himself. I was going to hit him up but he broke the vial accidentally. We were supposed to get some dilaudids and I split to the hotel to shit while Tom met the guy. On the way back to meet Tom I ran into him and Inez. The D's fell thru for tonite. I was supposed to go with them to see some movie but by the time the asshole boy let me in and out of the hotel I figured it was too late - so, China food.

Sun. - Apr. 28, 1985 Mostly a day of waiting for Tom to get to his lawyer tomorrow. I sat in the sun for awhile - took a shower. Walked around looking to see what was playing at the cines. Afterwards I napped for an hr. then ate 3 val's and went to see "Places In the Heart". Waiting for Tom to come thru with the dinheiro is an utter bummer.

Mon. - Apr. 29, 1985 Didn't find Tom til 8 - at Charlie's. Carlos was there. Ate 3 val's - snorted some coke - drank til dawn.

Tues. - Apr. 30, 1985 Woke around 2:30 PM. Ran into Carlos and we walked all over looking for Tom. It's 5 PM and Carlos went to his place to see if Tome left any telephone messages while I cool my heels in the Ellis (Hotel). We ran all over - no Tom. Finally I went to the hotel and slept, agreeing to meet Carlos at Charlie's, 8-8:30. Didn't get up til 9:30 however. Searched all the usual places - ate spaghetti. At 11 I finally found Tom at the Vienna. No money but he says he'll give it to me tomorrow afternoon. Ate 3 val's - wrote Randy a card.

Wed. - May 1, 1985 The beginning of my last month in South America. Would've been in Rio by now if it weren't for all the fucking around in La Paz. Looks like it might finally pay off though. Tom and Carlos got my ass out of bed around noon and Tom says he's giving me the money at 4-5 today - knock on fucking wood. Gimme a goddam break - please.

I forgot to ask him about the pills - guess they fell thru, like everything so far. I think I'm gonna take a shower and then go have a couple of hamburgers in the basement of the Plaza. Just took a couple hits of what Tom gave me last night - not too hot. Sitting on my balcony in the sun - still haven't left for the burgers. I'm anxious for the money. With it, I'll be able to buy all the stuff for my Brazilian art piece and get an apt. when I get back plus have spending money. I guess that herb's not too bad - just a little effect tho.

Just took off my sweater. My chest's all peeling from my day up in the rocks in Copacabana. Sun sure feels good. Hope the sun shines on my finances. At least I've been in good health. I've been totally acclimated to the altitude since the start of the Inca Trail. Well, the days in MPLS should be like those in La Paz - decently warm when it's sunny and cold at night. I've changed my attitude a little about going back to MPLS. I don't want to be there long. If money turns out right I'll be set for Indonesia in 85-86 and Rio in 86-87. Tom came over later and we went to the Plaza's downstairs. I had 2 cheeseburgers and 2 pieces of cake. We hung out at Charlie's for a couple of hrs. - ate 3 val's - took a took (of coke).

Thur. - May 2, 1985 Tome came over and we sat out on my balcony for awhile. I borrowed him my Toshiba cassette player and a couple of cassettes for some rich friend of his to record. He took some hits off my MPLS stuff - boy did he like that. Lolled in the warm sun for awhile after Tom left. Took a shower then went for spaghetti. Tom and Carlos found me there - I walked them part way to the Verona then split to my hotel to wait.

A little while ago Tom and Carlos stopped by. Tom says he can get all the perc's (percodan) and D's I could want - I'm waiting now. Oh, happy day. God will I be set. What a perfect finale to an already great trip. If everything falls into place I can pay off ma, my student loan and buy me a bunch of silver dollars (I was a big coin collector), go to Indonesia, and get some camera gear. I'm supposed to get my thousand bucks from Tom tonight too. Were thinking of driving Tom's jeep to Santa Cruz.

This all will be the biggest break in my life since my '82 grant. It looks like all the miserable waiting will be worth it. Let the light shine on me, Jack. C'mon, c'mon. Wheee! Hurry up you guys - let's get it on. I want to see if they got those perc's. Been standing on my balcony waiting for Tom to show. A dream like this ain't easy to wait for. Just imagine having 500 perc's. Wouldn't have to pay a doctor $100 every time my back acts up.

C'mon Tom, where is you. Let's go boys. I won't be able to believe it 'til I sees it wif my own eyes. Swamp would choke and Randy and Sher'll tear their eyes out (my brother and a couple of friends/connections). Took a short nap and still no Tom. Fuck! I'm sick as shit of waiting. Finally got sick of waiting and left - it was already 11 O'fucking clock. Cocksucker! I suppose it's possible Tom came and didn't know about the bell (one had to ring to get in my hotel). If so, shit. Shit the goddam luck. Something better fucking happen tomorrow - I'm goddam sick of being treated like a dog who has nothing better to do than wait around. Fuckin' bullshit. If it wasn't for the vals to put me asleep I'd go fucking nuts. Fuck the goddam son of a bitchin' waiting around.

Well that's a nice, valium induced tirade to read after all these years. I never could figure out what was up with Tom; I'd never asked him for a thing - it had all been offered and I certainly had nothing to offer him in the way of money so I believed him when he went on about his jeep and money from his lawyer and prescription drug connections, etc. In the back of my mind I knew there was a healthy measure of bullshit attached to all this but since I had no stake involved other than the time I wasted I felt it was worth losing a week or so just in case. I would be going back broke and with dilaudids going for $50 a crack having a pocketful of those back home would be a gamechanger in terms of getting started in MPLS again.

Fri. - May 3, 1985 Well, I have a great fear that Tom has skipped town on me - with my cassette player. Haven't seen hide nor hair of him all day. Looks like I was a chump. They told me at the Vienna that he split the hotel last night, which would have been just before Carlos and him came over. At dusk that weird dude who stays in my hotel came in and turned me on to some coke smoke (cocaina bruta - cocaine paste - fun to smoke). Weird.

Something's going on - gotta find Tom. Shit. Spent the whole goddamn day and night looking for Tom. The fucker's just disappeared. The only good thing that happened is that the dude at Charlie's says he can cop me 50 dilaudid and 100 percodan. The bad news is that he can't get them til Monday.

I ate Peking chicken and ate 4 val's. Tom and his stupid promises have ruined my few days in Rio. Fuck him. He's an asshole. The only good thing out of all this bullshit is the at least $250 spending money I'll have from the val's. Fuck relying on other people. Goddamn this day.

Sat. - May 4, 1985 Same bullshit. Tried to meet Inez to see what I could learn about Tom but we missed each other. At night I ate 4 val's and saw "The Killing Fields". Alright flick. Earlier I changed a 10 spot for 200,000 Pesos to the dollar.

Sun. - May 5, 1985 Called Carlos' girlfriend and learned that he and Tom have indeed driven to Santa Cruz. Oh, would I like to get my hands on Tom. I think I've learned the office address of Tom's lawyer. We'll see what happens tomorrow. I visited Inez today and she fed me and tried to call Santa Cruz but the number was out of order. At 6:45 I went to see a double feature - "For Your Eyes Only" and "The Young Master" - a funny kung-fu movie.

It's about 10:30 and I just ate 5 val's. I got 173 left - $286.50 at $1.50 each and $346 at $2 each. Sure hope that lawyer has my Toshiba (I paid $100 for that fucker and loved listening to it), and that Victor (the bouncer at Charlie's club) comes thru with those pills. Just as I was laying sort of passing into dreamland Marc Antonio (this friendly Bolivian guy who'd turned me onto the paste) passed by (the room - he was staying in my hotel) and turned me onto 2 1/2 lines. What a great guy. I don't know what his motives are but I'm gonna take his good will at face value. Considering he doesn't even know me his good will is amazing.

Didn't even hardly get off on the val's - Christ, I've been doing them everyday - 1st 2, then 3, last night for the 1st time 4 and tonite 5 (and these were the blue 10 mg.). Felt the snow (coke) more. In a way I've been lucky as far as lessons learned. I lost my Rock In Rio ticket but not my lens, I lost my cassette player but have my health. In some measure the good will of Marc Antonio is almost a recompense for Tom's treachery - and Inez has treated me awful well.

Neither Linda, nor Tom or no treacherous bastards are going to keep me down. Whether God is nature or karma or what I love him, it and here wish to thank him for having treated me so gently. Sure, I was using Tom for pills and money but I would have paid him in spades.

I have to learn to give more love in this world. I believe I've spread a lot of good will on my trip and hope the people in Brazil, Peru and Bolivia think better of Americans because of it. Sure, I'm writing this on snow but I mean what I write. I hope I've brought happiness in Winnie's life and some laughs and friendship to Kevin. I owe Battis and Andy more than I've given, and I've been mean to Liz when all she's given me is goodwill. She only hurt me unintentionally and I treated her ungracefully.

Over the years I've slowly lost the chip on my shoulder - but not enough. I believe I have a good heart but it's been hurt alot - maybe it's my fault. I want good things in this world but not perfect. Fucking over companies doesn't hurt heart's - betraying a friend does. I'm not going to be tranquil when people walk on me, I'll react in kind. Letting people walk on you is not a path to love - it only encourages them.

I'll give T. Barry the little Virgin Mary to show what kind of relationship I want. I hope Kevin likes his magazines, Dick (at the gallery) his religious figurine, Winnie her wallet, gloves and horse, Andy his gloves, Ma her earrings, t-shirt and scorpions key ring. I'll have to send Karina something nice - she came in my life when I needed her. Battis I owe most of all cuz I've returned little of his good will. I'll do it somehow but it's difficult cuz he has everything. Maybe I can just be his good friend. I'll sure have some cool shit for Kevin. After writing this shit in I wrote a long letter to Jim. Took one toke and after 5 val's and 3-4 lines I got real dizzy - could hardly focus on the words I was writing.

Wow, what a bunch of crap. Reading that after all these years is embarrassing. Let's all raise a toast to writing while totally fucked up on valium and coke. In fact almost all my entries starting with La Paz which is when I first started taking valium everyday have a weird tinge to them. I sound like an asshole and maybe that's just what I was. I for sure had a tendency towards drama and exaggerating any little bad thing that happened to me. I guess it's a matter of perspective but overall I was pretty lucky and I think down inside that I knew that.

Mon. - May 6 Visited the lawyer of Tom and the only thing I learned of interest was that according to him, he was never holding any money for Tom so Tom probably had it all along and could have given it to me anytime if he really wanted to. Went to Interpol and tried to get them to run down Tom and Carlos in Santa Cruz. Told them about Carlos "perhaps" receiving a kilo of tea (weed) here in La Paz and about Tom taking my cassette player and also said he stole a thousand buck from me. Fuckers.

I still can't believe Tom did it and I keep trying to think of a good explanation for him leaving like he did. If he's a smart cookie then all the talk about Santa Cruz could have been misdirection. At night I went to Charlie's to see if he (Victor, the bouncer) copped the painkillers but no luck. Ended up staying til after 4 AM. Ate 3 val's and got dizzy drunk.

I went to Interpol with the intent to fuck up the lives of Carlos and Tom as best I could. I had full names and addresses and I hope I did make life uncomfortable for them eventually. Bolivia's a very small country when it comes to moving around in certain circles so I hoped to make those circles a little exposed. Victor was actually a very nice and sincere guy who genuinely tried to help me cop. I think in some way he felt a little embarrassed at what had happened.

Tues. - May 7, 1985 Met Victor at 11 AM and we went to see if we could get the pills but nothin' doin'. Luckily we ran into a friend of his who, after an afternoon of drinks cashed my ma's $100 cheque (traveler's cheque she sent to Rio) for no commission. Nice guy. Also solved a lot of problems as far as having money to reach Rio. We sat in their office, drank beers and I took their picture. Afterwards they dropped me off at the pizza place near Charlie's. Soon after I split after 11 PM. Caught a taxi for 25,000.

Wed. - May 8, 1985 Went to the college of Inez at 9 AM but never saw her. Split at 9:30 but they said they hadn't found Tom nor Carlos in Santa Cruz. Called Victor at 11 but nothng doing with the pills. Went to LAB but they said all flights to Santa Cruz were filled for today. Fuck! Changed a total of $50 at 220,000 Pesos to the dollar. When I went back to LAB at 2 they said that their was space on their 4:40 flight and that I had to be there at 3:40. Being 2:15 I was suddenly in a hurry. Went to Charlie's for 1 final check on the pills, nothing, and to say good-bye to Victor - good guy.

So I finally got my ass out of La Paz. Cost 4,040,000 - $18.36 as opposed to $35 (?). Too bad I couldn't make it to Cochabamba - it's Tom's fault - but I guess 4 sweaters are enough. Arrived in Santa Cruz at night - nice 'n' warm. Got a room at the Hotel Copacabana for 500,000, $2.27 at 220,000 Pesos to the dollar. The lobby is a lot nicer than the room. Went straight to La Pergola (a club that Tom had said his uncle had a connection to) but the kid at the bar said he'd seen neither Tom nor the uncle for a long time. If Tom's here he's probably hanging out at his uncle's farm.

I feel like splitting tomorrow. Fuck the Toshiba. It can be replaced. It'd be nice to just get the fuck to Rio. I'll have little enough time there as it is. Ate some chicken at the Gandhi. Watched some dumb ass American convict movie in english in my hotel lobby til after 1 AM.

Thur. - May 9, 1985 Slept real late - didn't leave my room til around 3. Rained all night - dry but gray all day. Showered and took a cab, 50,000 Pesos, 23 cents, to the train station. If I'd have arrived a little earlier I could've got out cuz it was still possible to get a pullman on the tren rapido but it was too close to departure time to take a chance on getting back with my stuff in time.

In a way I'm glad cuz I caught most of "King Kong vs. Godzilla" and then a kung-fu flick that was decent but not as good as the real good ones. I remember how much I liked the KK-God flick when I was a kid. The one I really like is "King Kong Escapes", with the giant robot ape.

So with luck I should hit Rio the 14th. Hard to believe I'll be home inside of 3 wks. Wonder what it'll be like to be back? It's sort of fun to think about. When I'm in Rio I'll lay on the beach, try 'n' do a lot of photography, maybe the Urca (Sugarloaf) samba show, follow football and relax. Sure hope I have some luck with cash when I get back. I gotta start doing something with the slides I've been taking the last 2 trips. Sure have been lazy about getting good stock pix. But it's time consuming and sort of shitty to just see a place thru a camera.

I gotta start carrying that Leica around with me, even in the states. Betcha I could get some neat b&w's. Sure has been a weird trip. When I left MPLS I didn't know if I'd make the Inca Trail and get sweaters 'n' shit. Should have some cool, if unsellable slides when I get back. Have to contact that travel stock photography place in NY Alvis (ex-photo teacher) told me about. I'd like to make some glass enclosed icon stuff when I get back - like with a model of Spider-Man behind glass with neon lighs and weird paraphenalia inside. Maybe with a cut-out of Gort (from a photo of "The Day the Earth Stood Still" I took outside in MPLS), and the 1st issue bubble gum card - fake webs - little rubber spiders glued across the glass.

I'd like to make a crude painting of Batman or the Joker. I got a thousand ideas. Gads, I could make a ton of cool shit. I should frequent 2nd hand shops to find weird icon shit. I should make a Joker mask like at The Heart of the Beast (a papier-mache mask I made at a workshop in MPLS).

In case you haven't got the drift across all these entries I was really into cheap, stupid movies and science-fiction and sometimes the stupider the better. I loved kitsch, ugly bowling shirts, comics, kung-fu movies, you name it. I had seen so many glass enclose icons of the Virgin Mary lights inside that I really loved in Bolivia and Peru. I wanted to make something similar but with cheap pop culture stuff inside.

I never really did it; oh, I made a couple, or rather, 2 friends of mine made me 2 hollowed out miniature TV's and 1 hollowed out old table top radio that I made into some really cool pieces. I think it could have been a great thing but my life was too fragmented to do any one thing for very long.

Fri. - May 10, 1985 Left for the train station at 6:45 AM and was lucky to get a 1st class ticket cuz the gringos 5 or 6 people back in the line didn't get any. On the way back I visited immigration and they did their bureaucracy stuff. Ate curry at Gandhi's - changed $5 for 220,000. Just waiting now. Boy am I happy I don't have to ride 2nd class, and with the val's I can sleep a lot.

At 2:45 PM I headed for the station for 60,000 Pesos, 27 cents, in a cab. While I was sitting on the platform with my pack and stuff the aduana (customs) came along, stuck me in a building no more than a tiny shack and put me thru the ringer. For a while I thought that they were gonna make me strip (had weed and valium in my crotch) when I saw them put a Bolivian in a little room; that would've been great. One guy was fairly rude - taking a smoke and matches from my shirt pocket without asking and then twice trying to say I could only take with me 2 of the 4 sweaters I had. This guy seemed to be indecisive about how far he should take me. I mentioned I knew Captain Benitez, the head of Interpol and they seemed to calm down a little after that. It was a little scary. 1st class was okay - ate 3 val's - ate in the restaurant and drank a lot of pop. Slept okay.

It was sheer luck that I had that Captain Benitez' name from my visit to Interpol in La Paz. These guys were tearing my shit all apart but when I mentioned the Captain's name they started putting my stuff all back together and all the disrespect stopped. That could have turned out very different and very bad. Santa Cruz is a huge drug region and so it wasn't unreasonable to think they might have stripped searched me. Because of what I had in my crotch I couldn't really fight back in any way. Stupid fucking corrupt pricks. Within 48 hours I would have another very close call with customs.

Sat. - May 11 Crossed the frontier on a nice, sunny day with no trouble but the bus driver wouldn't let me bring my pack on and I shared a cab for 5,000 Cz., $1, to the train station in Corumba, Brazil. It was around noon and I met this Brazilian chick there who I talked with earlier on the train. There was almost no one there. Nobody seemed to know exactly when they started to sell tickets but we figured 7 PM. After much pondering we decided that she would go a couple of blocks away to eat (while I held our place in line) and come back to the station in case the ticket window opened early.

I walked to the center (after she returned to take my place) and changed $30 at 5700 Cz. to the dollar. The J and K (my old hotel) let me take a shower for free and I put on a clean shirt. Sure felt good to be back in Brazil. The atmosphere changes for the better instantly. Cuz the Brazilian girl was gonna grab us both tickets if the window opened I was free to run around stocking up on cigs, have a toddy and look for a Placar (my sports magazine). Turns out that the Taca de Ouro was suspended some few weeks after I left and won't be resumed til July cuz of the the Copa do Mundo '86 (World Cup qualifying games).

Guess I'll have to follow by subscription. I had a feijoada then went back to the station and camped in front of the window a long time. Beautiful sunset and night. Finally the window opened and we got a couple of good leito seats at 27,000 Cz, $5.51 at the 4900 rate I had changed at before entering Bolivia. After the train started the customs guy gave me a scare by tapping my crotch where my matchbox was but my Marlboro box and matches in my pocket saved me.

Didn't stay up too long - ate 4 val's - slept most of the way. Woke just after sunrise as we hit Campo Grande.

Another terse entry about an incident that could have put me in deep shit. The customs guys are very clever. They don't try and do anything at the border; they know this train is the only way out of Corumba and deeper into Brazil so they wait til your on the train, relaxed and with your guard down. Reminds me of my visit to Tiajuana when I was 18. I bought a huge switchblade knife which I'd shoved down in my pants to cross back into the U.S. When I thought I was safe I started to pull it out but we notice 2 border patrol guards a long way off looking at us through binoculars. Yup, they wait til you think you're home free and pounce.

On this occasion this burly Brazilian customs guy comes right up to me as I was putting up my pack on the train and with no ado taps me right in the crotch. He felt the matchbox all right but by sheer good luck I had a pack of Marlboro box and a box of matches and I pulled them out and he thought it was those hard corners that he'd touched and went on his way. Wheeeeew! Close call. That makes 3 on this trip alone; I am truly an idiot but a lucky one.

Sun. - May 12, 1985 Even tho we walked strait to the bus station lot's of people beat us to the line by taxi. I would've had to wait til 4:30 PM but some guy waved a Rio ticket for 7:30 AM which it already was and I bought it for 75,000 and rushed downstairs. I didn't know there was also a 7:40 bus to Rio which is the one they put my pack on. At 1st they told me to get on what would've been the right bus then told me to get on the other one. There were no seats so I had to sit on a ledge and the floor til we caught up to the 7:30 bus 4 hrs. later at a lunchstop. While I was on the 1st bus I noticed my ticket was for May 11 and I thought, Oh, shit!, I was sold a turkey. Fortunately the guys didn't seem to notice the date and there was a spot on the 7:30 bus which I had all the way to Rio.

I was sorry to not be able to say bye to Lu - she was a neat chick. Ride to Rio was okay. Slept or bullshitted with this neat old Bolivian dude. Was happy to near Sao Paolo and catch the FM stations start to come in. Got ot Sao Paolo about 11 PM. Thereafter the bus was half empty and I slept almost all the way to Rio.

Mon. - May 13, 1985 Hey! - back in Rio - felt great. I was surprised to find it slightly chilly. Hit the Hotel Turistico and 6 AM and they gave me a neat little room, #150, up top, without a bath at 12,800 Cz, $2.25 at the 5700 Cz. to the dollar I changed at in Corumba. Showered, ate breakfast, turned in my dirty clothes then slept til 1:30 PM with a series of short dreams that kept waking me up.

Hit Mc's, ah!, 2 cheeseburgers, 1 filet of fish, but when I went to the pinball place the Shark was out of order. Puta! Ran into Leal (one of the Brazilian buys who lives at the Tursitico) walking back to the hotel. I want to hit him up for $100 but I thought it best to wait awhile. I decided that being clear and empty Monday that I'd photograph the little amusement park near the Sambadrome. Got on a bus to return to the hotel but decided to call ma and let her know that I'd made it back to Rio safely.

Surely did feel good to be walking the streets of Rio. I was wearing shorts and the night was balmy. The streets were alive with people and smells downtown as always. There was a bookfare in the main plaza like the one in Largo do Machado when I arrived. I walked til I found the Metro Boa Vista where Duna ("Dune") was playing then bussed to the hotel to dump my gear, take a hit, eat 2 val's and bus back to Passeio. The dumbfucks wouldn't let me in the theatre cuz I was wearing shorts so I bussed to the Largo do Machado I for the 9:30 showing. Went to the Amazonia afterwards then to the hotel on a cool night.

The only letter I had upon my return to Rio was from Dick from the gallery. He said he had a friend in Houston who may be interested in publishing my work in book form. Great news - but I'll believe it when I see it. Ma's coming back from Las Vegas on the 29th so I'll have a night alone in the house. I'll play pinball and then order a Dulano's (south MPLS pizza joint since I was a kid) pizza. Was happy as a lark all day.

Tues. - May 14 2 weeks in Rio to go. Shit, toked. I'm off for the Daily Post, Mc's and Copacabana to exchange money. I was just thinking of my 6x7 body of dusk stills. I'm quite happy with the body of good work I've produced - now getting sizable in terms of quality. I was sitting here thinking of the Varsity Theatre which I still haven't gotten around to and how I should do all the movie theatres and gas stations in slides and negs, b&w? Good project. I'm concerned about archivalness.

It's so nice to just be laying in my room - door open - perfect misty/sunny day. I feel good. Think I'll lay here awhile - do a self-portrait, shave 'n' split. Did the self-portrait, shaved, split. Bought a Daily Post, ate 3 cheeseburgers, went to Copacabana on the 570. Went to American Express and got $60 in new cheques. Cashed one and a $20 at 5900 Cz. to the dollar.

Cruised up and down the ave. for shit for my art piece. Bussed to Gloria and played Shark. Won my first game off that fucker, and a couple more. Ate a Big Bob - came to the hotel at 7:30. Paid my bill for tonight. Saw a neat butterfly box in Copacabana for $4.58 I think I'll buy for myself. Bought a couple Miami Herald's for 8,000 each and 2 copies of a (vintage) paperback with a lingerie cover that may be rare.

Think I'll drop some val's 'n' go see "The Terminator" at 9. Did 4 val's and got to the Lido just in time. Really a well put together flick. Really liked it. Ate frango. When I got back I bullshitted with Leal and Alceu (2 Brazilian guys who lived at the Turistico) and watched most of "The Birds". Asked Leal to lend me a c-note but he said he didn't have it. Rats!

Wed. - May 15, 1985 Was real lazy about getting out of bed. Bought a Daily Post a, INTERRUPTION FOR AN IMPORTANT BULLETIN: ma just called to say that I'm one of 16 finalists out of almost 300 applicants to make it to the last round of the Jerome Foundation playoffs at the Minneapolis College of Art and Design - 2nd year in a row. Well, it's good luck so far. Gotta win this year; right? Ma said my appointment is for next Sunday. Oh well, I'll keep my fingers crossed. Maybe they'll delay the appointment - maybe it's better if I'm not there. Senor Antonio suggested that I light some candles by the church next Monday night - think I will

Okay, so I bought a Daily Post then ate at Mc's. Played Shark awhile then went off to photograph the little amusement park. People kept getting in the way and it wasn't the best of dusks. Ate a doce (sweet) and drank down an uva (grape drink) then shit, showered, got high and wrote in today. Fell asleep - woke shortly before 10 PM and went outside and bought a couple of Chokitos' and some cheese then watched most of an amistoso (friendly soccer game) in Bogota' then left at 10 to 12 to stuff myself at Mc's. A minute after I left Columbia scored the game's lone goal.

Very cool night but okay with shorts. Only 12 days to go - better get my ass crackin' with some 35mm work. Tomorrow, if the sun shines, I'll do the Arc of Lapa. 1st telephotos on the sun side then teles of the trolley with the sun directly behind it. So, only 12 days before this long sojourn is at it's end. Boy what a time it's been. Got more out of it than my expectations and you can't beat that. Received grander opportunities for money and photo stuff for my return home than I thought would be there. Opportunities are all I want, Jack cuz I'll cash in on some of them. I have grand aspirations for my 6x7 work cuz I think it's good.

Just gimme soma day luck. I've been feeling real tranquil since coming to Rio. Everything's pretty much been coming up roses like it's been for some time now so tudo bem. I gotta make sure I get off my work to Zoom and Photo magazines. If I got something in either of those mags that'd be hot. Read some of "The Cometeers", which I was lucky enough to find on a table in the lobby.

The church and candles Senor Antonio was talking about was a place right down Catete Street just a little ways from the hotel. It often had candles on the sidewalk in front of it at night. When I first came in 1983 and also on this trip, one would also see voodoo offerings on the corner a little ways from the church. It was usually something like a bowl with a dead pigeon in it. The bowl would be on a red square of cloth with liquor bottles at the 4 corners and with cigars balanced on each one. Sometimes there would be coins and slightly different variations but that is the one I remember most. That practice has now died out at least at that street. I don't recall ever seeing stuff like that anywhere else.

People left the candles in front of this wall as offerings of hope. Some days there would be people out front selling candles and other stuff on tables.

Street car crossing the Arches of Lapa in Rio de Janeiro by James May

One of my shots that evening of the Arches of Lapa

Thur. - May 16, 1985 Woke around 9:30-10 AM. Bought a Daily Post, picked up my clothes. Had a banana drink then laid in the sun outside my room for an hour, reading the paper and "The Cometeers". Went to the bric a brac shop near Praca Maua' and bought a scorpion paperweight for 21,000 and a statue of Christ with photos at the base for 13,800 Cz.

Came to the hotel and borrowed 50,000 Cz. off Senor Antonio cuz I was out of Cz. and didn't think that I could make it to Copacabana and get back to photograph the arch in time to catch the sun right. Soon I went to the arches and started taking teles of the trolley with the sun directly behind it then later under it. After that I took photos of the great church (the modern, cone shaped Cathedral of San Sebstian), 1st with the FL-Day magenta filter then with the blue.

Ate at Mc's on Passeio on the way back. Think I got some decent stuff tonight. I've got to decide what to shoot next. Pix from Urca, Gloria Church at dusk with a tele, the WWII Monument, a view of downtown Rio, an up top shot of Copacabana at dusk, Leblon beach from Vidigal or the Rio Palace, a shot from Santa Teresa, a down-low shot of Sugarloaf, no, shots of people fishing off the end of Leblon, an up-top shot of Praca Mahatma Gandi, what?

Tonight I'm going to scout the balcony of the Rio Palace and Morro Pasmado at Rio Sul. I split 1st for the Rio Palace which has a 2nd floor bar balcony that'll make for a decent view. Not too far away in the Rio Othon which has a top floor bar with a clear view on both sides but I need to get permission to have the windows unlocked. Visited The Meridian but their top floor restaurant has sealed windows.

From there I walked up above the Rio Sul tunnel but a solitary soldier stopped me from going all the way up, saying it was too dangerous. Next I went up Morro Pasmado for a look see. It's sort of a lover's lane with a cement pavilion at the top. Not a bad view of Botofogo's bay. Walked sweaterless from the start of the first hill - hotter than I'd thought.

Caught a 434 at the bottom of Pasmado and ate at the Amazonia. When I got to the hotel I asked Alceu to loan me $50. He said he'd think about it but I don't think he will. Just heard Simone's "Um Desejo So' Nao Basta"; nice. Got $13.23 a day left. Sure hope Alceu gives me some dough. I want to buy undies, shit for my art piece, batteries for my radio and I have to pay the airport tax too. With 50 bucks I could pay for all that shit. C'mon Alceu.

So tomorrow I'll visit the Rio Palace change $, visit Chris Wallace and browse the tourist shops and if possible squeeze in some sun and arrange an appointment with the curator of MAM. So things are looking good for now. I'm excited about some of the photography I've done these 6 1/2 months and especially about the prospects of a 5 grand grant and some work in a book. Just imagine - 4 color book publication. Wowee - wouldn't that be the shits. Exciting times for my work.

I just figured out the numbers and as near as I can figure I'd have 30-35 solid 6x7's to put in a book, maybe enough to make a solid book if my Carnaval work were included which combination wouldn't, I admit, make much sense. Shit, I'd do it tho. Cripes, winning that grant and getting a book would make for some eating crow - shit! Fuckin' A man. A lot of crow already's been chewed - that's right motherfucker.

With no luck at all, going back should be good. Shit, look at all the shit I did on this trip - can't take that away. Fuck, it's enough. Shouldn't be too greedy. Each day, each moment, is good - right here right now. I'm thinking that, should I go back to the arch (Lapa) I should do some real close-ups witht the tele-extender - I'd be bound to get some full big sun shots among the silhouetted passeners. I can't forget to go back to the high spot next to the tracks from where I shot the church and from where I could take teles right down the arch.

Fri. - May 17, 1985 11 days left only - after such a long time. How many days? This is the 195th day away from MPLS. 195 day. Feels like an ending time. A good feeling - like after jumping rope hard and then sitting afterwards with the sweat and tiredness washed away. A time now for new beginnings - a summer of photography. A new apt. - new friends. Without the book or grant I'll tire of it quickly. Time to establish a base for economic independence. New beginnings - and this time no pig to ruin my return. Peace, tranquility - no bad encounters. Good results from my work. Oooh! I'm nervous about the negs I shot - did they work out? Will I win a grant? Is Dick full of shit? Tune in next weed friends - better yet, 3 wks.

Oh, the suspense. I like it - not like sitting around in La Paz waiting for other people to get shit done. I do my photography and it's good enough work to receive recognition. Hasn't been much waiting there. In fact things happened with my photos quicker that I expected. I still can't believe that I have a photo in the collection of the Walker Art Center and that I made it into a show at the Institute. I'm getting spoiled - I'll have to watch that and not expect too much. But keep on trying and working.

Just showered. Haven't gone downstairs yet but I think I woke rather late. I was 2 when I went down. Bought a Daily Post and went to Mc's. Played 8-Ball Deluxe for awhile then went to the hotel to change into pants and a white shirt. It was a bit of suspense for a while there whether I'd be able to change $ and make it to the Rio Palace in time but it worked out okay.

Changed $20 cheques at 6,000 Cruzeiros to the dollar - had a beer and smoked a cigarette while waiting for the light then did my thing - almost all with the heavy yellow and Fl-Day. Took the long ride back to Gloria and paid Senor Antonio back the 50,000 Cz. I borrowed and also for my room for yesterday and today. Warm, typical Rio night.

Sat awhile then took 4 vals and went to the Coral on Praia de Botofogo to catch the 8:30 showing of "Passage To India". Strange and mystifying film. Done in a straightforward fashion harkening back to the mid-60's - not surprising since it was made by David McClean, creator of "Lawrence of Arabia". I'm not sure I fully understood the film except that it seemed to maily emphasize the many foolish foibles of British rule in India. It said, you, the British, don't belong here - you don't understand it and never tried to. Your arrogant racism is an insult and unjust. Good film - underplayed. Neither simplicstic or preachy. So now I've run out of new flicks to see. Maybe I'll see "Dune" again altho I might wait to get back to the states cuz it might have been cut.

Sat. - May 18, 1985 Roused myself out of bed around midday and laid in the sun outside my room for a long time reading Mon. and Tues.' Herald's. I just figured out that I've visited a movie theatre every 4.87 days of this trip and read a book every 6.3 days. Cripes I've read a load of SF in my time.

Bought a Daily Post, bussed to Mc's. Tried to play the pins but both the 8-Ball and Shard were shut down. Waited a little while for a bus to take me to Praca Maua' where another pinball place is then thought the better of it cuz it would cut into time at the WWII Monument which I'll shoot at dusk. Tomorrow I'll do Santa Teresa or the view of Leblon from Vidigal. Mon. - the amusement park, Tues. - Rio Othon, Wed. - the trolley and church.

Think I'll go to the WWII Monument and try to get a tele of the numeral with the sun behind it. Took some real so-so pix of the monument, the last 21 of which may be ruined anyway cuz I opened the back of the camera trying to figure out why the shutter wouldn't trip. Finally I pushed the advance lever as hard as I could. It gave and that solved it. Took dusk shots. Tomorrow I'm going to shoot the monument statues at dusk with the Vivtar (flash) and gels.

Another good lazy day. 9 days left after tonite. Enough time to finish all my photo work if the days remain sunny. I've got 9 rolls and 10 pix left - should be enough for everything I have in mind. Lookin' good. Took a nap til around 10 then walked down to the Amazonia. Walked back and watched the last 1/2 hour of "Chariots Of Fire" on TV.

I was thinking that I'd probably have time to shoot the trolly coming down the tracks, do some more shots of the sun behind it and make it to the WWII Monument in time to do the flash shots there. I should go to the trolly about 2:30 and get the shots of the trolley on the sun side that I wanted. All in one day. I can get more shots of the trolley and arch on the day I shoot the church.

Other than photography I have no plans but to lay in the sun and get dark for the bastards in MPLS to gawk at. Ta-ha. So I'll be leaving a week from tomorrow. It'll be a busy week. People to visit, things to buy, photos to take. Want time to lay in the sun. They'll be good days I trust. Get warm MPLS - it's summer to summer I'm looking for. I'll be going back a lot darker and a lot slimmer than when I left. The back injury from Guatemala has utterly disappeared. 'Bout fuckin' time too.

I have to remember to get some real close ups right from the start of the passengers (on the trolley) with the big sus orb behind them with the tele-extender (which would make a 200mm lens a 400mm). Should end up with a lot of good if less than brilliant 35mm stock. Lot's of them I can't wait to see - the flash self-portraits, the shots of Pacaya, Sugarloaf at dusk and dawn, the fountain and cross in Antigua, the Carnaval slides and negs, the Tikal flash experiments, the wrestling match, the slides of Karina.

Not long to wait now although, believe you me I'm in no hurry to get back to MPLS. I'm enjoying these days in Rio and doing photography is a fun creative challenge. I think about what it'll be like when I get back to MPLS; has Thom or Gale sold any photos? Will I get some good 6x7 work done this summer? Will Winnie still want to blow me while wearing nylons and garters and bound hand and foot? Will I get that grant? Are Liz 'n' Andy still together? Has Jim sold that slide of Machu Picchu? What will it be like to just be in MPLS? Will the V's win some quick cash? Will my (weed) business get started quickly like last time? Will I get an apt. soon? How soon will I get to print my 6x7's? Will I stick to my promise of carrying the Leica (for B&W photography) around? Can I squeeze some good stuff out of the state fair and is it time to make people pix there? Will I really finally do some 6x7 slides at dusk? Will I meet some more women who want to have love made to them while they're bound and gagged? What'll it be like to see Andy and Liz, Kevin, Terry 'n' Sue, Winnie for the 1st time.

I think I'll lay low the 1st week, not contacting anyone right away but Sher and Swamp, altho I probably can't wait too long for the money from Andy (I'd left weed and a customer list with Andy with the idea we'd split the profits). That'll mean seeing Liz who, in a way, I'd almost rather not see. Sure would like to get a nice high apt. on June 1st but it'd be next to impossible. Don't want to live at Ma's for a fucking month. Need some luck for cash and then a quick, lucky search for an apt.

I'm in a good position almost no matter what happens so it should be a happy summer. Shit, I'm still happy about the Film In the Cities-Cray Research (sale of a photo), Minneapolis Institute of Arts exhibit, not to mention having had a great time these last 6 1/2 months. Opportunities are coming up roses - now all they have to do is bloom. Bloom, says I. Thing look decent for buying Brazilian trash (kitsch) for my art piece altho it's gonna be a close one. Got $14 a day left but I need some cash for the flight home and airport tax. Hope Alceu comes thru for me. On Monday I'm gonna ask the guy who changes money for me to borrow me $30. It's very late, a nice Rio night.

Sun. - May 19, 1985 Not many entries in this journal left to make. Woke around midday and lay outside my room in the very hot sun reading "The Cometeers". The Legionaires' situation seems hopeless. Now for a shower to cool off and then to Mc's. Ate at Mc's then played 3 games of Shark - won 1, got 3 balls twice.

Walked back to the hotel and laid down long enough to smoke a butt before putting on pants, for the monument (you can't wear shorts on the WWII Monument) and taking off for the arch (Lapa). Very warm afternoon. Started out taking lousy pix of the trolley coming strait down the tracks then took some more shots with the tele-extender of the trolley passing in front of the sun, this time doubling up the heavy yellow filters, something I've never done before. Think I got some good stuff.

From there I went to the WWII Monument and did red gel (over the flash) with no filter (on the lens), with manual (full output of the flash), blue gel with yellow and blue filters. Lot's of flash. Got to the hotel at 6:30. Took a nap. At 10 I walked to the Amazonia for "o de sempre (the usual). Walked back. The night had a bare hint of coolness in it. Rua do Catete. I remember how happy I was to walk it the 1st time again when I arrived in Dec. May never see it again but I doubt it. I have unfinshed business here. I'd like to come back sometime with a more flexible budget and deal with these here woman. Didn't get around to it this time. Guess Karina got in the way but mostly my own shyness.

Oh well, just another dream to satisfy. Lookin' forward to it - another nice long summer in Rio, more money, better clothes. Watched most of "Cool Hand Luke" (in the hotel lobby), a cool flick. Got 7 1/2 days left. Not enough really, considering the things I want to buy. At least I'll have enough to get some of the things I want. Might even be enough to get all of them if I'm careful. One important factor will be how much the airport departure tax is, which I'll learn tomorrow, as well as the price of the bus (to the airport). Gads, just and extra 10 spot even.

Mon. - May 20, 1985 Woke around 9:30 on a partly sunny day. If the weather continues like this I may not be able to shoot at dusk. Ate breakfast and read the paper til 10:30. Split to Pan Am to learn the price of the departure tax, 39,000 Cz. and bus, 2,400. Went to the museum but the dude I wanted to talk with wasn't around so I split to Copacabana. Bought a little TV for 2,000, a butterfly in round glass for 16,000, a key-chain with the body of a piranha for 10,000, 2 of those plastic ashtrays with photos (of scenic Rio) for 7,000 each and Botofogo and Fluminense patches for 3,000 each. Found good prices for the rest of the junk I want and finally found a store with the scorpion key-chains. There remains only the problem of the undies (for Winnie) and butterfly box I want. Gads, if I just had $20 more.

Visited with Chris Wallace (who handles the foreign press) today and we talked for a good while. When I finally bussed back to Gloria (my neighborhood) I bought 5 candles and burnt them (it's night now) in front of the wall to help me get that grant. Hope I wasn't being sacreligious.

Tomorrow I'm going to buy 4 each of the scorpion and piranha head keychains, a Flamengo patch, the jeweled fist (an Umbanda voodoo thing), a mounted piranha and the little, white Corcovado in round glass. 1st I'm going to the underwear place. In the afternoon I'll visit the hotel with the locked windows and the curator. Think I'll buy that butterfly box I want too. Gotta find time for the Banerj (bank that sponsered Carnaval) president and Chris (Wallace) art dealer friend in Urca.

Looks like I'll just barely squeeze thru on all the shit I want. Should arrive in MPLS penniless. Might have to leave a day early. We'll see. Just 7 days left. One week and it's over. Looks like I'll spend this week pretty much running my ass off, but I'm going to arrange it so that Sat. and Sun. are tranquilo.

Went downstairs late and told Alceu that I didn't need $50 but $20 - he said if he did it it wouldn't be til Thur. or Fri. Cutting it a little thin, boy. How much the undies cost and how many I'll want to buy will be a big factor in all this since all other price factors have pretty much been figured out.

I still remember that evening I crouched on the ground in front of those 5 candles and made my wish for that $5,000 grant. That grant was a huge deal to me and would be the gamechanger when I got back in terms of being able to go to SE Asia for the coming winter of '85-'86. It was a breezy night and the candles sputtered and almost went out. I remember telling myself that if even one candle went out that I wouldn't get the grant. A couple of the candles guttered but somehow stayed lit in that breeze. Weird little event considering the news I'd get upon my walk up to my mother's front door from the airport.

As I mentioned before, I love kistch; little pop culture thing that are so ugly and stupid that they become beautiful and brilliant. I'd been making a mental list of the stuff I wanted to buy at the end of my stay in Rio the whole time I was there. I was crazy to make this fine art Brazil Box, as I thought of it that would have all this stuff plus soccer ticket stubs and postcards and all the kitsch and lights too. I never did make that box but I still have all that stuff all these years later.

Winnie was crazy for lingerie and Brazil had a very particularly cut type of panties that you couldn't buy in the states called a tanga. I knew Winnie would love then and that I would love them on Winnie so that was what the undies thing was about; all the other types of lingerie you could get back home but not those so I knew it would make her happy and like I said - me too.

Tues. - May 21 Woke at 8:30 on a cloudy day, went down and had my free continental breakfast of bread, jelly, butter and milk, showered. I'm off to the tanga shop. I have fantasies of whipping Winnie's ass with my belt while she's wearing what I'm gonna buy this morning.

Closer and closer my departure. I'm excited about a lot of stuff. Went to the tanga place and bought 6 pair of tangas for 48,000 Cz., $7.87 - cheap. I was getting hot just looking at them. There's just one more pair I'd like to buy - a duplicate of one of the white ones that go right up the ass with fake diamonds on the front but which were a little tight on Winnie (I'd given Winnie the ones from the last trip meant for Linda).

From there I went to Banerj and tried for over an hour to see the president and with little success. Headed for Copacabana and bought the little white Corcovado statue for 10,000 Cz, $1.64, a Vasco da Gama and Flamengo shirt patch for 5,400 Cz., 89 cents, and 4 each of the scorpion and piranha head key-chains with a jeweled fist (Umbanda fertility symbol) thrown in for for free, 55,000, $9.02 total. Ate at Mc's then visited the Rio Othon and got permission to photograph from up on the roof. Was going to come right back and photograph at dusk but it started raining so when I got to my room I said, fuck it, and instead had fantasies of Winnie on her knees bound hand and foot wearing an up the ass tight tanga and blowing me with ropes tightly tied from her wrists in back thru her crotch and around her neck. I'd like to bind her hands above her head and tie her knees and ankles together so she's on her knees with her back facing me and then whip her with my belt til she moans for mercy.

Took a nap afterwards then went to call ma to make sure the jurors (for the artist's grant) went to Thom's gallery to view my prints but that'd already been taken care of. Bussed to the Amazonia and then walked to the hotel in a drizzle. Agenda for tomorrow is to wake at 3 AM and photograph at dawn from the roof of the Rio Othon into the morning - sleep til noon and then successively wisit the museum, Urca gallery, and the Banerj gallery (all to try and promote my 6x7 work). At dusk I'll photograph from the Rio Othon again or the amusement park.

Money's looking good. If I spend 50,000 Cz. a day for living I'll have 70,000 yet to spend on bric-a-brac or a tanga or in the magic shops, plus have 83,008 Cz. for my day of departure, plus $10 U.S. dollars in reserve. So it looks like I'll be able to buy every last thing my heart desires. I'd like to buy that little TV from the sports shop near Largo do Machado. If Alceu lends me $20 I'm gonna buy a size 13 Vasco da Gama soccer shirt and a selection (national team) shirt. Gotta change some checks for tomorrow too. Busy days. Just took 4 val's to help me sleep fast.

Yes, Winnie and I had an unusual but very fun relationship. It wasn't as bad as I maybe make it sound - it wasn't heavy S&M or anything like that. It was mostly posturing for effect which got us both really excited - we were just young people pushing boundaries a little and it seemed fun and exciting at the time. I can tell you that Winnie and I enjoyed the tangas I bought for many months to come. Winnie was as fun a lover as I ever had.

Wed - May 22, 1985 Got my 3 AM wake-up call but I was just too bushed to even get out of bed so I blew that. Woke finally at 10 AM. Bought a Daily Post and spent a couple of hours laying outside my room getting dark reading the Daily Post, Twins won again - a game out of 1st at 21-16, and rereading the 1st couple of chapters of "Dune Messiah". Bussed to and from Mc's.

Went to my cambista (money changer) and changed $40 in cheques at 6200 Cruzeiros to the dollar. He's given me the same rate as for cash ever since I returned. From there I bussed to the Rio Othon and did dusk pix from the roof. Pretty spectacular view.

Money's looking real good now - if I spend 50,000 Cz. a day the next 4 days I'll have 85,000 Cz. to spend on junk and 85,000 for Mon. So, I can buy those white undies with the fake diamonds in front that I bought too small in '83, the butterfly box, the scorpion ashtray and the round glass view of Urca or Corcovado with fronting (?) and maybe a thing or 2 at the magic shops. I'd also like to see if I could buy that TV with the light inside (some promotional thing) at the sport shop near Large do Machado.

So tomorrow I wake at 3 AM, shoot dawn at the Rio Othon, sleep til 10:30, sun til 1:30, visit the Banerj gallery, visit the Urca gallery, and, if there's time, visit the museum and call Banerj. Then, at dusk it's off to the amusement park. Forgot that after the Banerj gallery I'll cruise Copacabana for those undies. Busy day, lazy night. Got 6 rolls of film left. It's about 8 PM - just ate 4 val's to help me sleep early.

Thur. - May 23, 1985 Woke at 3 AM and left the hotel at 4:20. Arrived a bit early so I sat at the edge of the beach on a stone bench listening to music on my little radio - it was pretty cool sitting there waiting for dawn. When the time came I went up top and started shooting away. It was mostly cloudy but I think I got some decent pix.

Bussed to Gloria, ate breakfast and went up to my room at 8 and slept til 11 - just in time to lay in the sun a couple of hours reading the Daily Post and "Dune Messiah". At 2 I split to the end of Copacabana to check out the Banerj gallery, nothin', then walked the length of Av. (Nossa Senhora) Copacabana looking for those certain white undies I bought too small 2 years ago. Didn't find them but it didn't matter cuz I found these even neater little black ones for only 2,500 Cz, 40 cents, that are hot jack - just what I've been looking for.

From nearly the end of Copacabana I bussed to the hotel, spent 10 min. there then bussed to the amusement park to take my last 3-4 6x7's. Got back after 7. I'll sleep in this room just 4 more nights - the 5th night on the plane - the 6th night at home. Another 7 month adventure at an end. Been a long, long, fun time. It's enriched my life beyond measure. The coming home and 1st couple of weeks will be exciting but beyond that who knows? Getting the grant would certainly help.

Boy, I've sure gotten a lot of shit done since I came back from Bolivia and on the trip as a whole, almost to the very last whim. It'll be a source of contentment for a long time, as it is now. Took a short nap then at 10 PM I walked to the Amazonia. Walked back. Talked to Alceu in his room for awhile.

Tomorrow I'm gonna get up early and cruise the magic shops, then if it's sunny I'll tan for awhile and then hit the Urca gallery. I really want those white tangas so I'll try and get them since I have to go change my last check anyway. I still have 57,390 Cz. to spend on junk if I spend 50,000 my last 3 full days, which is exactly enough for my butterfly box, the scorpion ashtray and the sugarloaf in round glass plus the tanga. If I buy that stuff then any stuff I buy from the magic shops will have to come from the $10 I set aside or whatever amount below 50,000 I have to spend for living the last 3 days. I got 85,000 set aside for Mon.

How much more can I write about what this trip has meant to me, or what it was. I've done a lot of good living and had lots of restful times too. Lot's of big and tiny special moments. Wanted to be doing something where I felt that life wasn't passing me by and this trip and how I did it was the answer. Just the month in Guatemala is plenty itself. The photography of Tikal and Pacaya should be fun to look at and it was really nice to be there again. I think Kevin enjoyed it a lot. We'll have lots of fun reminiscing about it. Can't wait to take a bike ride. I'll take a ride out to Kevin's and surprise him. Got plenty of mags he'll dig. I'll ride by Andy's and Terry and Sue's, around the lakes, no-handed down night darkened streets.

I intend to be successful at my photography not only in promoting it but executing it as well. I need a fucking good body of work out of MPLS this summer - and I'll do it too; but gotta hit the streets hard Gotta keep producing new work. Gotta let 'em know I'm still alive and kicking. If I get a fair amount of good 6x7's of Carnaval that'll help. Sure would like to have a retrospective of my work to date with the 6x7 stuff at the Walker but it'd probably have to be a two man show cuz even if I used all my good work it'd amount to only 30-35 pieces - any good Carnaval work wouldn't really jive with the other.

Well, there are 2 interesting things about that last entry looking back over a tunnel of years: I was pretty much thinking of only 3 things those last days in Rio and that was travel stock photography, sex and this thing I had with collecting bric-a-brac as I put it for making a series of some kind of glass-enclosed boxes with weird trashy kitsch and lights inside.

The other subject I was thinking about a lot was my future in fine arts photography; it turned out there would be none. I quickly became disenchanted with everyone who had anything to say about the status of fine arts photography in Minneapolis - gallery owners, curators, the staff of the arts endowment funds for photography. I felt they didn't know jack shit about fine art photography and that did not bode well for me. The most awful local photographers were getting grants, exhibitions and museum sales and within a couple of years I was out entirely. It just wasn't a situation I was going to put up with. My personality didn't help; I was the kind of man who spoke his mind on a given subject and that doesn't go over well with the fine arts crowd in Minneapolis. These people, photographers and promoters of photography alike had fragile egos when it came to the subject of fine art photography. I'm not sure why but I suspect one thing they all had in common were their own doubts about their talents when it came to photography in the fine arts.

The Minneapolis Institute of Arts, as I write this in 2009, has pages of photographs in their permanent collection on their website by local fine art photogaphers that are embarassing; I have not one photo in their collection. Then and now there are exhibitions by local fine art photographers that are equally embarrassing. No surprise that I railed at the situation and simply decided to drop out; I could see the handwriting on the wall. I'm not trying to put myself out there as any kind of great photographer because I'm not - but I am a photographer and there are local Minnesota people who have made a living in the fine arts who would make better plumbers than photographers. Their real talents are being middle class and non-controversial on a personal level and knowing who to drink coffee with. You know what I say to them - fuck 'em. I'd rather be a total unknown and an honest artist than some dipshit who doesn't have a clue as to what the fuck they're doing. The level of talent that the local grants' organizations have brought in from out-state to judge who gets grants has been abysmal. You'd think that in such a vacuum of talent that it would be easy to make one's mark - not so. When the level of talent is at such a low level there is a sense of self-protection that sets in and good work is not celebrated in a situation like that. In retrospect I can say this with some confidence: the biggest mistake I ever made in life is to stay in a shithole like Minneapolis. My friendships been worth about the price of sex with an attractive woman, several hundred dollars or some good drugs; in retrospect, I don't know that I ever had a true and loyal friend in Minneapolis where I have lived my entire life. No surprise I would quickly sink into heroin addiction - I just didn't give a shit. However it is a surprise to me how well I have treated people in Minnepolis all things considered. Believe me when I say that I know exactly how bad this all sounds and I don't like how it makes me look either but it is a reflection of my honest feelings - they are the same feelings that one has towards a thief from my point of view. A person wiser than me might say that things would have been the same for me no matter where I was - maybe.

Fri. - May 24, 1985 Had an 8 AM wake-up call to go visit the magic shops but I ignored it and slept til 10:30. Sunned for a couple of hours. Before 2 PM I bussed to the gallery in Urca - wasted visit. Changed my last check of $20 for 6250 Cz. then tried to get those white tangas out of the shop window but the guy with the key wasn't around til Mon. Bussed to the hotel to pick up my gear then took the metro to the fountain and took pix with the blue filter and red gel. Walked to the museum (Museum of Modern Art) but it was 6 and too late. Ate at Mc's in centro.

Fri. night and nothing to do but sit around and save money. Just finished arranging all my gear for the flight home to see if it all fits - it'll go but it'll be a tight fit - especially if I buy that butterfly box and sugarloaf in round glass; and if the guy who owns that sports shop sells me the TV with the red light in it then I'll be strapped. I'd find some way tho; I'm a very creative packer. Got lots of fragile stuff this time - all the stuff I got that's fragile up to now has been suitably arranged to get home safely. If I get the butterfly box it should be well protected in the pack between sweaters.

So except for a few odds and ends I'm all set. Money's okay, but slight. If Alceu comes up with $20 I'll buy myself a Vasco soccer shirt and a yellow selecion shirt and have a bit left over. If I buy those 2 shirts I gotta remember to try and trade my size 12 Flamengo shirt for a 13.

It's all over but the shouting folks. Tomorrow I'm gonna head out early to try'n' buy that little TV - then I'll head for the magic shops and get a definite idea on what to buy in Copacabana with the 60 to 70,000 Cz. I got to purchase junk. Sort of bored right now - mostly waiting for tomorrow I guess. Took a walk around 9:30 and watched them play soccer in Flamengo Park for a couple of hours.

Sat. - May 25, 1985 Woke at 8 AM, went down to eat at 9. Split for the magic shops at 9:30. Bought 2 boxes of "defumadores" with cool covers for 2,000 Cz. each, 32 cents. At another shop I got a tiny metal Corcovado for 4,800 Cz., 77 cents. In centro I bought a bag of super-hero figurines for 4,100 Cz., 66 cents. Also got a tiny colonial portrait for 1,540 Cz., 25 cents, a carnaval eye mask and feather.

Got back to the hotel at 11:45 and sunned til around 2. Took a shower and split for the Lapa arch about 2:30 and shot pix of the bonde (street car) into dusk then shot the church. Ate at Mc's. Didn't get around to it today but tomorrow I'll go to the sport shop and see if they'll sell the TV - if not then I have just enough to buy the butterfly box, the Sugarloaf in round glass, the scorpion ashtray and the white tanga. Plus I got 50,000 for Sun. and 83,000 for Mon plus $10 U.S.

I was just thinking that I should buy Winnie a little something but what? I think she'd like one of the colored bottles I saw today. So anyway, all the loose ends are tied into a neat little knot and I'm satisfied. Kevin sent me a cassette today. Strange when he knew I'd be home 10 days after he sent it. Got nothing to do tomorrow. Think I'll shoot some scenics up on Santa Teresa. Can't think of anything else to do except lay in the sun some more. My last few nights in my room are only $2.05 - pretty cheap.

Mentally, I'm all ready to go. Accomplished 150% of what I wanted so I go home well sate - not easy, I being a glutton. Slept til almost midnight then walked to the Amazonia. Got a Guanara' (soda pop) for my room and ate 3 val's so I hopefully wont't stay up til 5 AM - it's already 2. 48 hrs. from now I'll probably be asleep aboard a plane winging it's way over the Atlantic Ocean towards Miami. I'm a little sad to leave Rio but I've had my time here and it's time to go. The trip served it's purpose which was mainly to escape MPLS, get some serious photography done, have a lot of fun, a little adventure. I feel great about the last 7 months. How many people have done all the shit I've done the last 2 trips? I'll have great memories to sustain me thru trying times. Very soon now it'll all seem like it was just a dream - but what a dream, eh? When life seems like it's passing me by it won't seem so bad ever again. I've done some shit jack. And boy my supplies are sure saying "go home" - my film batteries, money, and tripod are finished.

It's a slightly cool night in Rio. I'm laying here in my blue Nikes with the door open, my mind filled with what events will take place in MPLS. I intend to establish myself as an artist and not just a photographer. My 2nd piece will be a Spider-Man box with lights inside and all the related paraphanalia I can think of, with fake webbing too. I gotta get at that Corumba pencil drawing too. I am going to turn some heads. I have talent and it's time to display it in all it's facets, writing too if I can slip in the energy. One thing's for sure - there's no lack of ideas, it simply is a matter of execution, not to mention money. I sure would like to have the money to make a bunch of Carnaval slides into 16x20 cibachromes. The future has never looked so bright for my art. All I got to do is make it happen. I also have got to be creative in finding cash from companies and patrons.

I'd like to find someone to give me 1,500 bucks and maybe in return give them 5 ciba prints of Carnaval. Got to be aggressive about sending out slides to galleries, museums and magazines. The coming year promises to be an interesting one - all I gotta do is buckly down and use my brain.

Sun. - May 26, 1985 Woke on my own about 9:30 and got downstairs just in time to eat. Bussed to the sport shop near Largo do Machado and then downtown to look for old Placars (sport magazine) but not a thing was open. Got back to the hotel at 11:15 and sunned, falling asleep while the shade crept over me. Hung out for awhile then bussed to Passeio, from there walking to the trolley station.

Took the ride up to Santa Teresa and got some stunning landscapes at dusk, mostly with doubled up heavy yellow filters, a few with one heavy yellow and what I trust will be some nice flash self-portraits with no filter. The view at dusk was stunning - should have some stunning photos. Used my last roll of film. Did the trip to the hotel in reverse, stopping to eat at Mc's.

So dis is it. Tomorrow at this time I'll be arriving at the airport. So long Rio - I'd love to stay but it's time to go. You've been awfully good to me and for me. I'll never forget the summer days and nights I passed here. Crazy, dirty, lovely, dangerous, romantic, evocative. Yup, time to go tho - the time is right. Instinct, money, film, seasons say that I should leave Rio now - just as the same things said, "Come to Rio". In your warm summer night I found solace from my sadness, shelter from the little deaths of monotonous hearts and lonely nights. I return home in large part healed, tho not wholly - and filled with good feelings - a little better man.

I'll spend tomorrow 1st mailing of Karina's card, trying to buy the little TV then bussing to Copa to buy 4 items. From 11:30 to 1:30 I'll sun and then go to centro and look for the Placar's I want. If Alceu borrows me $20 at 4 PM, I can go straight to the sport shop in Copacabana and trade my Flamengo shirt for a 13 and also buy a Vasco and selecion shirt and then head for the hotel to pick up my shit and meet him Alceu at 6. But now he just said for me to call him around 11 to find out about the money so I guess I'll find out whether I'll be able to buy the shirts then.

I was just thinking whether I want a shirt more or the box and glassed Sugarloaf - hmmm. I could buy a shirt and still at least get the scorpion ashtray. It'll be strange to be in MPLS again. So much time has passed. In some ways I feel more at home in Rio. It's a city that touched my soul in some way. I feel so complete and satisfied. I feel as if I'm returning triumphantly. God, is my face ever dark - I don't know if I've ever had such a tan. They'll be oohing and aahing in MPLS. Ha-ha-ha. Can't wait. Just think if everything I've heard abou happened - a $5,000 grant, a book, money from the Machu Picchu photo, good print sales - boy, would I be high.

I wonder if Winnie has gotten over her infatuation with me - probably - 7 months is a long time and one finds that life goes on. The fact that there was no letter for me on my return from Bolivia hints as much. No big loss. Wasted tangas tho.

Mon. - May 27, 1985 My last day in Rio - plane leaves at 10:30 tonite. I woke at 8 AM and had breakfast downstairs. After awhile I busse to Largo do Machado and asked the guy in the sport shop if he thought the owner would sell the little TV but he said he thought not cuz it was a present. Mailed off my card to Karina. Bussed to Copa and had the owner cop those white tanga from the window - bought a 45 RPM of "Leva", "O meu soul contigo". Hopped another bus to the diagonal spot on Av. Copacabana and bought a Vasco shirt for 64,000 Cz. so I didn't get the butterfly box, scorpion ashtray or Sugarloaf in round glass.

Didn't get back to the hotel til 11:45. Calle Alceu but his office said he wouldn't be back til after 3 so that killed any chances of getting the $20. Went upstairs and stuffed the fuck out of my luggage then sunned til a little after 1 and at 1:30 brought all my shit downstairs. After a little while I bussed downtown to look for Placars' I missed while I went to Peru. Couldn't find a thing. Took the metro to Largo do Machado and ate at Mc's for the last time. Played a couple games of pins then watched the cops stop busses on Catete and search people for awhile. They rousted out some guy who had his socks stuffed with cigs.

Went to the hotel before dusk and sat around. I was supposed to meet Alceu at his office at 6 with all my luggage but I figured it'd be easier to go by taxi straight from the hotel to Santo Dumont so I met him, talked, said good-bye and bussed to the Turistico. Said my good-byes, grabbed my shit and copped a cab for 5,000 to where the frescos (bus) leave from. Got to the airport around 8, checked in my shit and say around listening to the radio. Bullshitted on the plane, sat, read. Ate 4 val's just before dinner then slept in the 2 or 3 seats I cornered. Bye, Brazil. I'll miss you.

So that was that. An odd, exciting and boring trip by an odd, exciting and boring man. Could have had a lot more fun if I'd not tried to stretch my money so far. A social life was pretty much out of the question when it came to women. A lot of women in Rio already have plenty of broke men to choose from and I wasn't much for getting around on pure charm. Nevertheless, as you can tell from my journal, I had immensely enjoyed my stay in South America; it was a highlight of my life.

Tues. - May 28, 1985 Slept good - woke around 5 AM, ate breakfast. We hit Miam at 5:45. Customs was a breeze - they didn't open hardly nothing. Had a stopover in Chitown and with faint butterflies in my stomach I winged home. I was feeling good. Kim and Dan (the daughter of my mother's boyfriend and her husband) who'd been watching the house while ma and Bill are in Las Vegas, were waiting for me and drove me to the house. They had a telephone message from Julie Yanson at the Minneapolis College of Art and Design that was "urgent" they said. I figured that meant they were going to delay my meeting with the judges for reviewing my work as a finalist but lo and behold, when she returned my call she said, "congratulations" - I'D WON - 5 grand, Jack - Indonesia - Da-daa!

What a homecoming - what icing on my torta (cake) of 7 months. What a feeling. I'm on top of the world. Been up there a long time. I'll come down sometime but enjoy the view in the meantime. Gosh, all my money worries gone in a single stroke. What a thing to happen at this time. Hoo-hah!

I talked with Kim and Dan for awhile. They turned me on to 5 hits of speed. After they left I tried to call Sher (one of my weed customers who loved Valium) but I forgot her right number. Got my bike out of the basement and went to 25th and Nicollet to fill the tires then rode over to Sher's to see if she wanted some vals. She went to ma's in her car and I rode back on my bike. She bought 5 and we talked for a while. Poor kid - she's having her 3rd abortion on Fri.

Called up Kevin and told him my good news and he laid down all the shit, good and bad that's been happening to him. He's working on that Louis Lamour deal and thinks there's a bare chance of sellng Warner Bros. a script for Tarzan 2. He's all excited about that and our trip and the prospects for another. We talked for a long time.

I ate the speed, tried to call Andy and then biked to the bowling alley to play my old bud, 8-Ball Deluxe. Alas, it was gone and everything rearranged. Played various machines but they were no fun. Biked home and got ahold of Andy and we talked til 3 in the moring.

What an incredibly different homecoming from my return from South America 2 years ago. With no one like that cunt Linda to put a damper on the party I felt goddam good. My next trip, 6 months in SE Asia was already paid for and I be gone before 7 months were out. I had really enjoyed my stay in South America and I considered it something of a triumph in my personal life - a triumph of fun mostly.

I look back on those days in Rio with a great deal of nostalgia, especially the first part up until Karina left because that had been a rip-roaring whirl of rapid fire events that were just big time fun. I was so excited to be going to SE Asia. I knew there were plenty of volcanos to climb once I'd got into Indonesia but the whole area was a total unknown and that was the whole point of going.

Wed. - May 29, 1985 Woke at 9 AM, still spaced from the white crosses. Sat around - napped. Andy called around 3:30 and suggested we meet down at the Center City Cafe (in downtown MPLS). It was weird to get on a slow, half-filled bus. Felt strange to walk down my own streets. Wasn't even certain what the fare was. 1st I stopped off at Brand's and turned in my 21 rolls of 35mm Kodachrome and 2 rolls of Kodacolor II color neg film. When I told them about the grant they let me have a giant $254 bag of mostly Carnival films.

It was good to see Andy again. We ate 'n' bullshitted 'n' looked at my slides. Liz called and we said we'd meet at Gluek's (a bar 2 blocks away). Had a beer and then started in on Long Island Teas. Liz showed up and gave me a big hug. Her and Andy proceeded to get in an argument - Andy stormed out and Liz knocked over her chair following. Took 'em awhile to get back. Apparently Andy had some hassle with some black dude and pulled a knife on him. Anyway we sat around and bullshitted about films and this 'n' that and got drunk til 1 AM while that stupid black guy hung around outside being a man. When Liz 'n' Andy were just about to get on the bus Liz kissed me on the neck 3 times and once on the lips. When I got home I hit the couch.

Liz and Andy were a pair, both very much unique individuals in their own right. Unfortunately that didn't extend to morals or ethics or honesty; they just pretty much did whatever they wanted to and let the cards fall. At the time I didn't know how dishonest they were and considered them friends, especially Andy.

Andy was a 6 ft tall, slim man in his early 20's at this time. He had Paul Newman eyes and kinda looked like that actor Colin Ferrell and woman just loved him. He was bright and funny and energetic and I liked being around him quite a bit.

Liz was utterly unique but unfortunately that wasn't all good news. She had a tendency to go off on the weirdest tangents at the speed of light and tending to talk to people as if they were microphones; one time we were talking on the phone and I went and did the dishes for about 15 min. and when I came back she was still talking. Liz was a yellow blonde and pretty attractive with big, sad eyes- not my type but she had no trouble having men hit on her. Liz and Winnie were roommates when I met Winnie and they hadn't exactly got along well. Liz had make some cracks making fun of Winnie's acne cuz Liz had very fair smooth skin and I guess in her way was a beautiful woman. Those types of cracks didn't exactly endear me to Liz but we got along fine cuz she was mostly a pretty cool person.

Thur. - May 30, 1985 Got up after 9 AM - thought ma was home but she went to work. At noon it was nice and sunny - I put on my Flamengo shorts and Gremio shirt and headed down 27th St. to Lake of the Isles. Boy I felt good - thinking about not having to work - doing what I want when I want. No money worries - Indonesia on the table. Fuck!

I read in Liz's Artpaper that last year's Jerome Winners (I grant I had won was a Jerome Foundation Grant) are having an exhibition at the Museum of Contemporary Art in NY and Julie Yanson says that it'll hopefully happen again with us so that's something to look forward to.

I laid at the lake in the sun for awhile then rode to Wendy's and took some pig food home. When I was laying upstairs ma came home. I showed her the stuff I bought. I'm really happy with the slides of Carnaval and I got some good stuff of Rio. When I was looking at the sexy slides of Karina I was falling in love - they're really sexy. I got a nice self-porrait I'm going to send her. I miss her - I wish she could spend the summer with me in MPLS. My negs of Carnaval had definitely mixed results. Many of them are either blurred or with thin (underexposed) dusks. I have a lot of marketable slides and maybe now have enough fine art slides to fill a book so I can push those and the 6x7's. I now have a lot of stock travel photography. It remains to be seen how successful I'll be marketing them. I definitely have to send 6x7's and fine art Carnaval to Zoom and Photo.

Ma made hot dish and I spent the evening upstairs watching the Twins and then the Celtics-Lakers. The Twins lost their 8th straight game on a punk call at the plate. The Lakers beat up on the Celtics to tie the Finals 1-1 with the next 3 in LA. I heard Edmonton copped their 2nd straight Stanley Cup tonight, winning the series 4 games to 1.

Andy still hasn't copped (a quantity of weed) for me. Wish he'd hurry up cuz I gotta get started - Sher and Dave are waiting. Fuck I found a cool bowling shirt my 1st day in the house. Watched some of "Days Of Wind and Roses" and all of a documentary while labeling slide boxes. Think I'll have breakfast and jump rope if it's sunny tomorrow. In either event I'll put my luck to the test and look for an apartment.

Guess I should finally visit Winnie - I'll bring back her sleeping bag. Boy I gotta lotta work to do in the coming months.

Fri. - May 31, 1985 Sat around mostly. Andy finally brought a quartarao (portuguese for a quarter pounder with cheese - a 1/4 lb. of weed) over about 9, then I went out with Jim and his wife Maureen and I played pins and drank at William's Pub and later we all sat at Estebans'. I walked by Winnie and Liz's around 1 AM but only Liz's light was on.

Sat. - June 1, 1985 Not a great day for riding a bike looking for apts. Got high and watched Blondie and other shit all day. Nice to sit around. Got excited cuz "House Of Dracual" was gonna be on at 10:30 PM. Saw Chuck for the 1st time. Talked on the phone a lot. Was thinking of going out to Kevin's to watch H of D but he doesn't get Channel 29. Called Winnie for the 1st time. She was in a hurry to go to a wedding so we didn't talk a real long time. I left a message for Liz with her that I'd like to watch the movie with her. I talked on the phone to Kevin so much that Liz called before I could.

At 10 I biked over and we watched the movie alone. She was already half-crocked so I drank a couple of beers and ate 3 vals to catch up. We talked more than watched the flik and before I knew it it was over. Then Winnie came home. She sat there after her, Liz and I talked for awhile and kept saying she was tired and going to bed. I was sort of hoping she would but then Liz left and Winnie took her seat next to me and when Liz came back and saw us sitting together she left. Winnie kept suggesting we go in her room to look at a dress she made and finally we did.

If Shannon wouldn't have been using the front room I might've just crashed on that couch cuz I was really sleepy from the vals. I had mixed feelings about fuckin' her the 1st time but I'd stuffed my left pocket with the 2 neatest tangas I'd bought in Rio in case I was forced into it - right? Right. Mixed feelings. I don't want her for a girlfriend.

I just laid on her bed and she eventually started kissing me and then asked me to take her clothes off. She was wearing a white low cut bra and garter belt and nylons with a white gauzy slip and those neat white tangas I bought my last time in Brazil. She gave me a nice long blow job. I had her put on the white tanga I brought along. She blew me some more and we had normal good sex.

Sun. - June 2 , 1985 When I awoke she was naked. She gave me oral sex and sat on me. Later I had her wear the new black tangas and fucked her on her stomach. I held her wrists together tightly and my hand over her mouth then whispered in her ear how helpless she was and if she could free her wrists which got her excited. I didn't come at any time.

There was only one more entry I made in that journal and it was almost 4 weeks later.

Fri. - June 28, 1985 Didn't leave the house all day. Talked to Winnie and Andy on the phone. Haven't made any entries for a long time. Since then I've been thrown in jail, got an apartment that I'll move into Sun., been kinky with Winnie a few times, gone to a movie with Moe (a friend of Winnie's), made proof sheets, gained 5 lbs. and sat around a lot.

Tonight I started a letter to Karina, asking her if she'd like to spend some time with me in MPLS. Don't know what Winnie would think about that but I'll deal with that if and when the time comes. My tentative departure date for Bangkok is Dec. 20. Andy seems fairly determined to come along. Should be a fantastic trip. Julie Yanson isn't going to like it when she learns that I won't be here when the visiting artist's come to town, but there's no way I'm missing out on a lengthy dream for a few hours with some critics.

Sure got my photo work cut out for me before I leave. Money'll be a problem too but I'll make it happen, I always do. Can't wait to get an apt. again. It'll be fun to kick back a bit before Indonesia. Can't kick back too much tho - got too much to do.

So that was that - the story of my 7 month trip to Latin America during the winter/spring of 1984-85 - and what a trip it was. I actually did leave for SE Asia on Dec. 20 and Andy did come along and it was my nuttiest trip yet. I have only that one last entry to cover the almost 7 months that would pass before my departure.

I did move into a nice apt. with hardwood floors in an old apt. building in Uptown, Minneapolis and I'll have to tell what happened between early June and Dec. 20 from memory and that is hazy.

I mentioned in that last entry that I had been thrown in jail. It was the first time I'd ever been in jail and because of the unusual circumstances I will never forget it. I still have the polaroid the cops took of me together with my fingerprint sheet.

The whole thing started with my idiot incompetent criminal of a brother Randy and the fact that I stored all my stuff in an unused upstairs bedroom at my mother's house. Randy had gone in to that room sometime while I was gone, searched through my stuff and found my social security card which he appropriated for himself. At some point Randy was arrested on some charge having to do with burglarly and passed himself off as me. When my mother bailed Randy out he jumped bail and left the state.

When I came back my mother knew all this and had decided not to tell me a thing because she thought I'd be angry; well fucking, duh! I didn't have a problem with that so much as the fact that there were bounty hunters out looking for me and had been sniffing around the house and I was totally unaware of it.

A day or 2 after my June 2 entry I went out to Kevin's house in Edina to give him presents I'd got for him and to pick up some stuff I bought in Guatemala which Kevin had brought back for me. When I was out there my mother called and it was a strange phone call cuz she didn't seem to want anything in particular. It meant nothing to me at the time. What I didn't know was that 2 bounty hunters had just forced themselves into the house and searched it looking for Randy meaning me and I was oblivious to all of this; apparently those dumb fuck bounty hunters don't need a search warrent to enter a house. Nice law that.

I love my mother but to have 2 bounty hunters search the house and for my mother to know they were actually looking for James May and not my brother and to hold back that info was fucking bone headed. My mother had always acted as an enabler for my lazy fuck of a brother and protected him but this was just plain wrong. This was a really serious situation that could have gone really wrong. I had a 38 caliber revolver in the room I was staying in at my mother's and if some guys had come running up the stairs having forced there way in I could have easily shot them because it was under those circumstances that the gun had been purchased in the first place.

Some 10 years before I was still living with my mother and dealing weed and also at the time some THC. These black guys, who'd been properly introduced through friends had bought some THC and had come back for more one late afternoon. So these five guys are standing on the front porch and I'm talking to them at the front door when one of them suddenly sucker punches me and I tripped of the stoop and fell backwards. They grabbed my legs and started trying to pull me out onto the porch. My mother and her useless boyfriend Bill were just inside sitting in the living room. Thinking quickly I yelled, "Get the gun, Bill, get the gun!" Well, there was no gun in that house but these black morons didn't know that and took off.

The very next day my mother bought a gun which I paid for. I was 18 and so couldn't buy it myself but I was the only one who used it and it was to protect the house. I eventually tracked down those pimp motherfuckers and could've taken them out one night but decided against it. Just knowing I could have seemed to calm me down and murder is an awfully big step.

After the fucks ran off my mother called the police. I had been so excited that I thought the morons had taken the money I had in one hand and the THC in the other but I'd quickly run upstairs and put both under my bed covers when my mother called the poice and didn't find them til later on.

Anyway, that's why I had a gun and why I might have reacted so strongly to what I perceived as a home invasion when those goddam bounty hunters entered the house. Kevin gave me a ride home rather late, maybe around midnight and those fuck bounty hunters jumped me. I had a shallow box with no cover and a machete I'd got in Guatemala lying right on top. If those 2 bounty hunters hadn't lied and shouted, "Police" I might have used it too. I knew right away that whatever was happening that these guys were looking for Randy who was always trying, unsuccessfully I might add, to steal shit and getting in trouble for it. Little did I know, thanks to my own fucking family, that these 2 jerk-offs were looking for one James May. I blithely identified myself as such cuz I knew they were looking for my brother and was confused when they said they were looking for James May. When I told them that I'd been in South America for the last 7 months they looked closer at me and half realized I wasn't their guy. Nevertheless they were getting kind of rough and by now I knew they were bounty hunters and not the cops so I was yelling up to the open windows of the house for Bill or ma to call the police; I didn't want to be in the hands of these crazy fuckers.

Incidents like this are why I really hate law enforcement be they bounty hunters of stupid jarhead fucking cops; they could just as easily have looked at my passport and realized I had no record and given me the benefit of the doubt but no - these fucking idiots had to arrest me and let there dumb fuck bureaucracy do it's work - the some dumbfuck bureaucracy that had no business issuing an arrest warrant based on a social security card in the first place. Of course if my mother had not had the bonehead idea of vouching for my brother as in fact being me when she bailed him out none of it would have happened. To this day I have no idea why my own mother would compromise my name and safety as she did rather than letting my idiot of a brother sit in jail which is exactly what he deserved.

So these asshole cops arrest me and bring me downtown and I have to spend the entire night in the drunk tank, my first ever time in jail. I did been dealing for 10 years but it took my Lil Abner relatives to do me in for the first time. What almost made it worse is that I had an ounce of weed in my pocket when I was arrested and the Keystone Cops were too stupid to search me. When I was handcuffed in the back seat I managed to get the bag out of my pants and shove it down in the crack of the seat. Bet those morons were surprised to find that.

So I'm in the drunk tank and it's full of these total losers and one big muscular guy who will not keep his mouth shut and was coming on strong to anyone who even looked him in the eye. Unfortunately for him he came on strong to the cops who came to the door of the tank and told him to shut the fuck up. They took him out of the cell and took him around the corner and I could hear his grunts and the impacts as they beat the shit out him. That was in the days before there were camera in the halls.

Early in the morning I'm transferred to from the ADC in downtown MPLS out to Hastings County because that is where my brother had been arrested. As soon as the cops there heard my story and looked at the polaroid they had of Randy they knew it wasn't me but true to their idiotic bureaucracy, they had to wait for court to open the in a few hours in order to vacate the charges against me. They were such jarheads that they handcuffed me even though they now knew full well I wasn't the man they wanted. This is why I hate cops - they think their stupid fucking rules are more important than not humiliating a human being. I'm saying this right here and right now - fuck cops and bounty hunters and your jarhead dumbfuck set up a perimeter mentality. Police officers are totally over trained - they act more like a paramilitary force with a worse case scenario mentality than peace officers. I laugh at the slogan they have on a the Minneapolis patrol cars: "To Protect and Serve". What they mean is to protect and serve themselves.

So, I go to court and my mother is there to pick me up and the judge lets me go and that was that. It only occurred to me years later that I probably could have sued the fuckers although the part my mother had to play might have nixed that. On the way home I was fuming mad when I learned what had happened. Of course my fuck of a brother was in Montana hiding out at his father's, my step father's since Randy is my half-brother. That guy, my step father - Christ, he's another piece of work - a rage alcoholic who used to beat my mother and terrorize the household. It's an understatement to say that I wanted to bend a lead pipe around my brother's head; it was just as well he was hiding where I couldn't get at him. Nice story - my family is not comprised of what you'd call enlightened people and I will never understand how my own brother and mother could do such a fucked up thing to me. Never got an apology from either one of them really . Eventually I forgave my brother Randy and we hung out some but he did some more fucked up shit a few years later and I hung up the phone on him in 1997 during one of his stupid attempts to scam me and have not spoken to him these 12 years since. He's too dangerous to know.

My brother Randy has stolen stuff from my mother so many times I can't count and only the fact that he never lived with me after I moved out of the house when I was 19 protected me. Randy is the kind of a person who you can't even leave in your living room when you go to the bathroom for fear he'll steal some checks or cash or write down your credit card numbers. Randy is one of the most worthless people I have ever known. He spent some years in prison after that 1985 escapade - 3 I think - one each in Florida, Minnesota and South Dakota. He's never had a job really.

To show you what a pussy he is, when my mother moved to Las Vegas in 1986 Randy followed her out there and has lived a few blocks from her in various places ever since. He refuses to get a job, tries to scam the state out of money while claiming he's sick - one set of years he has Hepititus C and now it's supposedly Krone's Disease. His girlfriend who he eventually married kicks him out occasionally and if he has a car he'll sleep in that a few weeks. He's continued to scam my mother out of money and painkillers as well as steal stuff to sell at antique shops every chance he gets. What a worthless idiot.

During those 7 months not covered with a journal between my return to MPLS and my flight to SE Asia, I had the Jerome Foundation Grant to deal with. When I received the 5 grand I had to sign a piece of paper stating that I'd stay around for a year or so. Being a photographer I didn't think the Jerome Foundation would want this to strictly apply to me. Julie Yanson at the time was, I think, the gallery director at the Minneapolis College of Art and Design and administered the funds for the college and handled the 5 artists who'd won that year. Usually when you win a grant you're free to go about your business but MCAD had some program where they not only wanted to meet with us regularly but also have us meet a few visiting artists who would act as mentors. I thought the whole idea was moronic and Julie Yanson quickly came to dislike me.

Julie was really mean to me and quite openly rude when she saw me at the college. I got a couple of messages from Julie while I was in SE Asia through various means; one time for example she wanted me to send her a photo of myself for something to do with the Jerome exhibit I would be in. I wrote her from SE Asia to let her know what I was doing and I would put joke return addresses on the envelopes like "The Lik Dong Hotel", "The Tol Kok Hotel" or "The Phuc Yieu Hotel". I thought that was really funny. Just writing this all these years later is making the laptop bounce up and down from my laughing. Julie was such a red neck yutz. She was the kind of women who had one of those short, really awful haircuts that older women wear here in Minnesota and would wear navy blue pleated skirts with a bright red knit vest or some shit like that. I didn't like Julie anymore that she liked me.

One time a couple of years later Kevin and I were driving in South MPLS on a sunny summer afternoon on a street that had yuppie shops of one kind or another and I spot Julie Yanson walking down the street. I pointed her out to Kevin and being a close friend, Kevin knew about the trouble Julie had been for me. Before I knew what was happening Kevin leans out the window and yells really loud, "Julie, you bitch". She looked all around but couldn't tell where the shout had come from - I was laughing my ass off. I laughing right now at the memory. She was a fucking bitch too.

I had intended on going to Indonesia before ever I won this Jerome grant and I wasn't about to not sign a piece of paper when 5 grand was on the line. I felt that if I wrote a letter to the Jerome Foundation stating how I'd be held back if forced to stick around MPLS for a year that they'd understand. I wrote one of the most eloquent letters of my life to the foundation because I didn't want a situation where I was screwing them over but neither did I wish to have my personal and artistic life stifled either. It was quite common for photographers who'd won a grant to travel as part of their use of grant monies and that was why I wrote the letter. Eventually Julie Yanson gave her permission but let me know that it was with the utmost reluctance on her part and it's fair to say that this women practically hated me afterwards. I don't know why she took it so personally - it didn't have anything to do with her. At the end of one year us 5 grant artists were to have an exhibition at the college. Apparently 3 of the other 4 wanted me out of the exhibition because I'd left the country. Once again, what skin was it off their noses - it had nothing to do with them. 3 of them were total fucking no talent stiffs anyways and the less I saw of them the better. The 4th one, a woman named Judy was talented and pretty cool. By a weird coindidence Judy would show up in Thailand when Andy and turn Andy and I to something we just as well should not been turned on to. I don't blame Judy though - both Andy and I were grown men but out lives would go into the shitter for years after this trip to SE Asia. If I'd seen what was truly coming I would have done things quite differently in Thailand.

But, life doesn't work like that and Andy and I were young and had devil take the hindmost attitudes and what eventually happened to us was 100% our own fault. I'm getting several months ahead of my story but I will say that those 6 months in SE Asia would be my last hurrah for 12 long and shitty years - I don't even know how I got through some of them.

During those 7 months of summer, fall and early winter of 1985 I bought some time at the color darkroom at the Minneapolis College of Art and Design and printed like a maniac. I had to print up everything worth printing from this last trip before I left for Asia or I'd get hopelessly behind. I intended on doing a lot of 6x7 work in Asia and didn't want to come back from that trip behind in my printing.

I moved into my apt. during the 1st week of June and signed a 6 month lease. I sold my bags of weed and had Winnie over and went out and had a fairly normal, busy life. Sometime during those 6 months Andy decided that he wanted to come along to SE Asia with me and so did Kevin. They'd both gotten a constant stream of letters from me on my 2 trips and had heard all the great stories about what a fantastic fun time it was. Andy intended on coming along and staying with me the whole 6 months. Kevin wanted to join me later on for the last part of the trip for some reason I can't remember now, probably time and money constraints.

Other than the printing I was really just marking time and enjoying the summer in Minneapolis til it was time to go. On these occasions the colder it gets the happier I am because I know it's time to jump from summer to summer once again, or in this case, what would turn out to basically be just about 5 summers in a row going from the summer of 1984 to the summer of 1886 although there was a bit of fall and even early winter thrown in there a bit.

Although I was marking time I was also very busy with new friendships. Before I got my apt. my old friend from the neighborhood right there in South Minneapolis would come to my mother's to buy bags and chat. Ray was going through a separation with his wife Deb, mostly because of his terrible alcoholism. Ray and I would sit at my mother's and talk about his wife and his troubles. One of those times Ray stiffed me on a bag of weed I fronted to him. Somehow during this time I had his wife Deb's number and before I fully realized that Ray had decided to never pay me back I would talk to Deb on the phone and try to smooth things over a bit. I got Ray and Deb a couple of tickets to a play at the Guthrie Theatre that I thought might help them out on a kind of a date.

Ray never did come back with my money and so Deb and I went to the play instead and so started an affair that would last on and off for a couple of years. Deb was a beautiful, tall, perfectly built woman with long, slightly wavy chestnut brown hair and perfect skin and classic features. She was also a very nice and well mannered and reserved woman but lots of fun to be with. Winnie and I didn't have an exclusive relationship at that time if we ever did and so I took Deb out a few times and had her over to the apt. for a few overnights that were lots of fun for Deb because Ray hadn't been giving her proper attention even when they were still living together. Although you can see from these journals that I had a lot of faults, giving women the attention they wanted as lovers was not one of my shortcomings.

I also met this guy named Steve while in my new apt. Steve was a super social guy who had just inherited a trust fund via his grandfather who was a big man in West Publishing here in St. Paul; that stipend came to 5 grand a month. Despite all that money, Steve was spending quite a bit more than came in and soon got in tax trouble besides some other stuff. Can you believe that with 5 grand a month coming in within a couple of years he was reduced to getting an hourly wage job in landscaping cuz the government was taking his trust money or something for taxes. Steve had just got out of prison from some drug dealing he'd been involved in before he came into his money. Steve had a habit of hanging out with gold diggers and the wrong people in general and loved getting high on a variety of drugs. I tried to interest him in the idea of traveling with me to keep him out of trouble and remember writing a letter from SE Asia to a judge for him when he was back in prison for violating his parole. Steve and I hung out a bit but we were never very close. I mention him because he figures into my story a bit later on.

That brings me to the end of this section of my story. The next section takes up with my journal that begins on a cold morning on Dec. 20, 1985; the day Andy and I flew out to Asia and as crazy, fun and adventurous a trip as I ever went on.

Dealing and Road Trips: South America, 1984-85

by James May

Copyright 2010 James May • All Rights Reserved