The thunder of jet engines booms in our ears, and the laws of inertia push us into the seats.
We are silent, absorbed in thought. Memories twitch like flashes through our minds, touching moments, but also small, often less significant events, which we had forgotten, or at least further back in our memories nestled were run like a film before our eyes, while our plane exactly in those heaven, whose stellar splendor we so often admire.
It is now truly home.
Quick were passed, the two weeks that we spent in Buenos Aires had, as well as the 15 months of our travel from one to the other end of the world.
It turned out the right decision in a weekend in the Federal Capital, as the Argentine Buenos Aires call einzufahren, since then the traffic is not as chaotic as during the week.
From our "rubber floodplain Book" (South American Handbook), we had already selected a hostal, allegedly over a secure parking for motorcycles have. The road we found, but the Hostal seemed no longer to exist.
We then found a place to live in the Hostal St. Nicolas in the centre of the city, but no garage had to offer, but after the motorcycles through the narrow entrance had choked, they stood in the bar of lodging operations as well, if not better, as like in a garage.
We borrowed us two orange racing machines with a bicycle rental and explored in this way the big city.
Modern glass palaces stand beside the old, with great attention to detail ornate ceremonial buildings of the Spaniards.
The road maze in which we find ourselves in the first few days only with the town plan had dared, will always be of huge parks interrupted, so that one could almost forget, in the middle of the city are and how everywhere in South America are also in Buenos Aires giant Statues of more or less prominent personalities on the plazas.
In the streets and alleys of the metropolis that never sleeps there day and night lively bustle and crowds are moving steadily forward. Where are all just go?
After the lonely expanse, it was a bit strange suddenly in such a huge city to be underway.
We visited Jörg and Bärbel, two Germans, which for half a year living here.
We had Jörg in the summer of 2006 in the United States made, as he and his friend Martin on motorcycles in Canada and the States were en route.
But we were not just for our pleasure here.
We had to transport back organize our machines, which with much Rennerei and authorities connected.
In the meantime, we are in a quieter area, far away from the centre and had moved in a small garden Dakar motorbikes, a workshop and meeting place for motorcycle travellers, our tent up there and met some people again, on which we already met once were.
Many stories and experiences were there to hear and tell, and the days passed by in a flash and before we could have versahen was also the day of our departure came.
Is it really true today, maybe not until next week?
No, it does not help anything, these are the last hours on this continent, and the last hours of our big adventure.
Much too soon, the taxi, which brings us to the airport, in front of the door, and much too soon, we must leave this world, in which there are so many things to discover and would again, we must adopt by loving people and as so often on this trip, it is probably a farewell forever.
We also look forward to our family and friends that we will see again and climb the aircraft. The thunder of jet engines booms in our ears, and the laws of inertia….
