Gypsy Biker

Had my longest ride in Central America so far, covering 675 km, but taking almost 15 hours to do it in…!!  I was up at 5.00 am and left San Miguel at 6.00 am…

Victor was up as early as I was, and brought me my mug of "wake up" while I was loading the Big Fella...

The last destination on the right almost had me falling off the bike with laughter.... Ask someone from Africa what a "toto" is....!!

Despite the early start and the short distance to San Salvador, it still took over two hours to ride the 145 km to the capital…!!

It took 45 mins to cover the last 10 km…!! I arrived at the Hilton Hotel later than I had hoped and the liveried doorman rushed over to tell me that I was expected…!!

At first I thought he said I was “expectant”, and was about to protest that it was the riding kit that made me look that way, when he repeated himself, adding that Mr. Mennen was waiting in the dining area for me…

Breakfast at the Hilton Hotel in San Salvador, with Tiernan Mennen...

Tiernan, is the brother of Caitlin, whose wedding I attended in November; and Mikaela; who spent a few weeks with Patricia and I in Bali… I had many of the guests stopping in mid-sentence as I walked across the lobby towards the dining room…

Buses in Central America are painted in bright colours and usually extol the virtues of the driver's favourite football team....

It had been a very long time since last I had bacon and eggs for breakfast, and I had to be careful not to pile my plate too high…!! After an hour of catching up and chatting to my future “nephew”, we parted company again… I was in too much of a hurry to be on my way and forgot to put my gloves back on…!!

By the time I realised this, they had blown off my pannier and were gone forever…!!

I parked the bike under a tree and only noticed this hornet's nest when I took my helmet off...!! Needless to say, I moved to another shady spot in double-quick time...!!

I refueled on the edge of the city, and then headed towards the northern-most of the four El Salvador border posts that cross over into Guatemala…

I chose this one because it seemed to be the shortest and most direct route through to Tikal…

I had no intention of visiting Guatemala City itself, having had quite enough of traffic jams for one day…!! Getting out of San Salvador was a lot less tricky and time-consuming than getting into it was…

Riding in this part of the world can be a test of courage and patience…!! Trucks and buses overtake each other around blind corners and rises, and if the overtaking lane is filled with oncoming traffic, they will overtake in the emergency lane…!!

In other words, they have a similar driving style to myself when it come to weaving through traffic…!!

Riding in India and Indonesia has prepared me for anything, but still, I saw some pretty crazy drivers in El Salvador…!!

While a truck and a pick-up were overtaking the truck carrying the gas canisters, the fully laden bus overtook it using the emergency lane...!! Not an uncommon sight in Central America....!!

"All aboard...!!" This looked like a family outing...!!

The northern areas of El Salvador are made up of a series of low volcanic hills, and the road leading to the Angulatu Border post winds its way through lush valleys and around the hill, crossing many small rivers and streams…

Choosing a border post that was seldom used by tourists, wasn't perhaps my smartest move...!!

Getting out of El Salvador was a cinch… My passport was scanned, and before my registration papers were taken back, I was told I needed a copy to show the Guatemalan officials, and no, I did not need to go and find someone to make the copy for me, because the lady behind the counter went over to her own copier and handed me my copy with a wide smile…

If only all the borders in Central America were as friendly and as efficient as those in El Salvador were…!!

The long wait at the Guatemalan border post was made in sweltering heat.... I spent the time looking at the many Mayan statues that are displayed there, and wondered why they had been removed from the ruins they had been found at....

I crossed a narrow bridge just a few hundred metres away, and parked on the Guatemalan side… Within minutes I had my passport stamped and was directed to the customs office in the same building… There, things slowed down considerably…

None of the officials spoke any English, so spent and awful lot of time typing their questions into Google Translate, and then swinging their screens around so I could see what they were asking…!! By now, I knew enough of the Spanish  terminology to help get me through the process, but these guys wanted to be sure I understood what they were asking…

Simple questions like; which country is the bike from; who is the owner; and, where is the bike now; were answered with ease…

Then one had me grinning…!! The screen read: “Where are you now…?”

I put my hands through the slot and typed, “Standing right in front of you…!!” and pushed “Translate”…

Guffaws of laughter broke out among the staff, while they teased each other for asking the wrong question…. What they meant was, “Where are you going now…??” …

Snarling Jaguar, complete with "Toto"....

I was then handed a document and told to go and pay the registration fee and insurance at the bank across the hall… As I reached the window, the cashier placed a piece of cardboard in front of it, declaring that it was closed for lunch… I asked him to help me quickly before he went away, but he refused…

I had to wait for an hour before he returned, and this would later cause me to have to ride in the dark, and still not reach the town of Flores that I was aiming for…!!

If I had the last item on this sign posted on the bank's window, I would have been served a lot quicker...!!

When he returned at 2.00 pm, he could not look me in the eye, and took less than a minute to take my money and put a stamp on the paper to show that it was paid…

Minutes later, I hustled my way through a mass of huge trucks that jostled to get through the border post, and headed towards Rio Hondo, where I turned onto the main road running north-east to Morales…

I stopped to refuel, and asked about the road to Flores… I was told that it was at least a four-hour drive from Morales, and it would be better to try to make Poptun, than spend too much time riding in the dark…

“There are many “animales” on the road at night…!!” the pump attendant advised, “Dogs and maybe cattle….”

“What about “animales” on bicycles…??” I asked…

“He laughed and said, “Yes, those also…!!”

I drank and Energade and scoffed two Snickers Bars, and then took off to see how far I could get…

Sunset found me more than 250 km from my planned destination of Tikal, in northern Guatemala, but I pushed on and rode another 140 km in complete darkness until I reached the town of Poptun…

Sunset on the road to Tikal... It was time to break a few rules... Mostly my own....!!

Dodging oncoming trucks and buses.... Not my idea of a fun-filled way to end a ride...!!

There must be some mistake, surely I wasn't doing 100 km/h, on a twisting road, through the dark of a Guatemalan night....??

We stopped to collect our wits after almost colliding with a large dog and a stationary tractor....

Poptun did not look like a place I would want to hang around in…

I found a nondescript little hotel down a darkened side street off the main road, and only stayed there because they had a big gate that was locked at night, and behind which the bike would be safe…

There was no internet available, so I did not even bother to unpack my laptop…

After a cold shower, which was actually quite welcome after the heat I had been riding through for most of the day, I went out to find something to eat, and settled on small hamburger at a restaurant that was just about to close…

This morning I was up early and rode the last 100 odd km to Flores, a small island in Lake Peten Itza, and found a cool hostal, which I will use as a base to visit the many Mayan ruins in this area…

I have covered the distances through Central America a lot quicker than I had hoped for, and am now able to go into “cruise mode” for the next few days…

Northern Guatemala is cattle country, and huge areas have been cleared to make neatly fenced paddocks, where large herds graze....

Judging by their statues, the Mayans were not an attractive lot...!!

If I feel up to it, I can make one last BIG ride of about 700 km, through Belize and into Mexico, to Playa del Carmen, or, play it safe and spend a night just inside Mexico, at Chetumal…

As usual, it will all depend on the number of brain cells I will find working at the two borders I will need to cross…!!

But that’s a few days away…

Getting to visit the ancient Mayan City of Tikal, is my top priority…!!

I would have liked to visit Copan as well, but this would have meant crossing back into Honduras, and I need to pay another $40.00 for a one day road permit, like I need in-grown toenails…!!

I also need to keep reminding myself to pour enough water down my throat to match the amount that I am losing through my pores…!!

It is very hot and humid here, even the slightest movement causes sweat to begin running off you…!!

The Hostal Dona Goya 2, on Flores Island, is a great place to kick back in....

And the views from the rooftop aren't too shabby either...!!

©GBWT 2012

Hostal La Casita, Granada... not the most restful place I have stayed in...!!

All in a day’s work…!! A long, hot, sweaty and patience testing day, wherein I crossed two borders, and spent four and a half hours in crippling heat and humidity, at the four border posts I had to negotiate…

It took 11 hours in total to cover the 465 km from Granada in Nicaragua to San Miguel in El Salvador, riding through Honduras somewhere in between…!!

After another restless night at La Casita, I was up early, got the bike from the fire station, paid the fire chief the agreed $4.00 for parking, and then set about the loading…

By 7.00 am I was on the road, having decided to take the western route around Lake Managua, rather than the busier route that went directly north via Sebaco and Esteli… This route would have taken me to the much larger and busier border post of El Espino…

With two borders and four separate control points to cross today, I wanted a quieter border post to get into Honduras…

The day started bright and early in Granada, 488 years after the city was founded....!!

My route took me around the southern parts of the capital Managua and then headed west towards the Pacific, then northwest toward the old colonial town of Leon…

Overcrowded buses like this one are common place, although unlike India, passengers have not yet taken to sitting on the roof yet...!!

A short distance outside Managua, the tarred road disintegrated and became a torn up dirt road…!! The guy who had advised me to take this route had not said anything about a dirt road, and my hopes of getting to El Salvador began to fade…!!

Not what I had hoped for...!! There was about 40 km of this before the road improved considerably and I was able to make up time by riding "hot and heavy" on the throttle...

After a long section of dirt road, we joined the newer highway and were able to make up time....

For many years, Leon and Granada had vied for the position of capital city of Nicaragua, until it was decided to build a new town midway between to two as a compromise… And that how Managua came into being…

I wanted to see a little of the architecture that this old town was also famous for, but apart from the crumbling old Basilica Catedral de la Asuncion on the main square, and the much newer Cathedral, Leon did not have the charm that Granada did…

A few of the house I passed had the same brightly painted walls as those in Granada, but for the most part, the town was drab and dusty… Not a place I would want to spend a day or night in…!!

Stopped in Leon to see if the Kings were home... They were off setting "Sex on Fire", so took some photos of this beautiful old church...

We skirted Chinadega, riding through large tracts of ploughed up land waiting for new crops, and then headed north again to Somotillo, the town nearest the Honduran border…

What I at first took to be low cloud, turned out to be smoke pouring from a large volcano close to the border… It covered a wide area, and many small fires were burning on the slopes of other hills nearby, probably started by the odd bit of burning debris coming from the volcano…

Passed this volcano close to the Honduran border, which was apologetically belching smoke and ash...

Clearing out of Nicaragua at El Guasaule was a simple affair… Immigration stamped my passport, checked my bike documents and waved me through to the Honduran side… I crossed the wide bridge over the river separating the two countries, and that’s when the waiting game began…!!

Made a cock-eyed entry into Honduras....

...and discovered that the Immigration and Custom's buildings were in need of some repair....!!

It took on a few words of discouragement, and a murderous glint in my eye,  to scatter the usual pack of “border jackals” that surrounded me as I stopped to find out where the offices were…

To put it mildly, the Honduran border post at Somotillo, is in a sad state of disrepair…!! “Immigration” was a small table on the porch of a long building that might or might not turn out to be the new offices in a few months time…!!

I had to pay $3.00 for the entry stamp, and was then told to go to the rear of this building to see customs…

The Customs office where I waited for over an hour for the official in charge....

In sweltering heat, I walked to the rear of the building and saw a group of people standing under a small lean-to… An hour later, this group had swelled to over two dozen, and not one of us had been assisted…

The customs officials were taking their lunch you see…!! Worse still for me, they did not have any of the forms required to get my bike documented, and had to make a few calls before someone arrived with the correct forms…!!

In the mean time, I sat in the shade of the lean-to, sipping an Energade that I had bought from a nearby vendor, and munched my way through my last packet of crackers… And waited….and waited…

When it was finally my turn, I handed in all the photocopies required, and was then told that I needed a copy of the immigration stamp as well…!! I had to walk to a small cafe about 300 metres away, ducking between the hundreds of trucks milling about, and pay $1.00 for a single copy of the stamp…!!

I was too hot and tired to haggle with the woman working the copier…. I just paid, smiled brightly at her and trudged back to customs through the oppressive heat…

In Tegucigalpa, you have the choice of heading to the busier border post of El Espino, or heading further west to the smaller one at Amotillo...

I had to pay $37.00 for bike registration and what I hoped included 3rd Part Insurance, before I was able to enter Honduras and make the 145 km ride to Amotillo, on the border with El Salvador…!!

Although Honduras is clearly a very poor country, the road between the two border posts was in very good condition, and I made the ride across this southern tip of the country in very good time… It took barely and hour and a half to get from Nicaragua to El Salvador…!!

The countryside was hilly and the slopes of these hills were covered in low vegetation, that was probably secondary growth… I was sure that tropical forest once covered this region…

The people seemed to get by on subsistence farming, because I did not one see any large-scale farm of any kind… Small shacks lined the roadside, many of the without doors or windows, but clearly lived in, judging from the clothes that hund drying on wash lines spread between trees and fence posts…

We passed through San Lorenzo on the Pacific Coast, staying on the CA 1, which lies to the west of the Panamericana Highway, and tore through Nacome and El Caretto, before getting to Amotillo…

The old border post here was also being renovated, and temporary offices had been built-in between small shops and other businesses…

I was quickly stamped out by the Immigration officials and then had to go and see the police services to have the bike checked against the documents that I was carrying…

The buildings at the exit of Honduras were not in much better shape either...!!

El Salvador was a revelation…!! I had heard so many horror stories about the country, that I had no planned to stay over in it at all…!! Originally, I had planned to stay somewhere close to the border inside Nicaragua, and then make a dash from one side of El Salvador to the other, to get into Guatemala…

The long ride I had made from Panama, and the distances I had covered had foiled this plan, and I realised that a stay in the country was inevitable…

The first unusual thing about El Salvador, is that Immigration do not stamp your passport…!! Once they have scanned it, they send you on your way to Customs, which was located 5 km inside the country…!! There are also large signs telling visitors that all services are free of charge…!! No entry fees, no road taxes, no photocopies….!! I spent barely 5 minutes at the border post itself, before riding into El Salvador…

I was directed to the customs building at the first police checkpoint I came to, and rode down a bumpy pot-holed road to a very large and modern customs shed, where trucks were being searched for drugs…

Waiting for clearance at the El Salvador customs shed....

Getting the bike sorted tool a lot longer than I had hoped, but the officials were so friendly and helpful, that it was impossible to be impatient with them… They had their hands full searching trucks and opening cargo of the many trucks heading north towards Mexico and the USA…

One official explained that the Colombians had changed their “business plan” significantly in the last few years, and no longer transported the cocaine they produced… They had adopted a “we have the merchandise you need, so come and get it…” attitude…

Apparently they had tired of losing so many boats and planes to the American Drug Enforcement Agency…

Cocaine smuggling is now controlled by the Mexicans, who bring it overland through Central America… A large pack of sniffer dogs nosed around the trucks and unloaded cargo while I watched…

Eventually, my documents were ready, and the official gave me some advice on where I should stay…

“Ride to San Miguel,” he said, “Don’t stay in any of the smaller towns… And find a place where you can lock your bike away…!!”

El Salvador is green and lush, large trees crowd the roadside, and the riding in this part of the country is on a wide, smooth surface, conducive to speed...!!

It was late afternoon before I hit the road again, wanting to get to San Miguel before the light faded…

The road was in good condition and I rode as quickly as I could… Too quickly…!!

In the small town of El Divisadero, I ran foul of the law…!! I was stopped by an officer in combat gear, who wore wraparound sunglasses and enough ammunition on his belt to start a small war…

He jabbered away in Spanish for a while, before I stopped him and told him I did not speak the lingo…

He immediately switched to English and spoke with an American accent that did not come from watching “Miami Vice” or “Law and Order”…!!

I realised that this guy must have lived and worked in the USA for a long time, possibly even been educated there…

“You were speeding…!! This is a 25 km/h zone…!! See there….!!” he said pointing behind me, “That is a school, and children cross here….!!”

“But it doesn’t count on Domingo (Sunday)… There is no school today…!!” I said cheekily…

He took off his sunglasses and peered closely at me…. “So you know “Domingo”….!!” he said…

I realised then that I had made a small error by using a Spanish word but pretending not to understand the language at all… I thought quickly and then said,

“Well, I don’t know him personally, but I’ve heard a lot about him…!!”

This brought a smile to his face and a twinkle to his eye, that told me that the guy had a sense of humour…

“You are very funny, Senhor…!! But this is no joking matter…!!” he said still smiling… “what do you think I should do with you…??”

I tried to look as contrite as possible, and suggested that my flagrant disrespect for the law, warranted a verbal warning of some kind…

He burst out laughing, and then spent the next ten minutes questioning me about the bike and my trip, impressed that I had traveled so far… He even gave me the names of a few “safe” hotels I should try in San Miguel, before wishing me good luck and a safe journey…!!

Arrived in San Miguel just as the sun was setting behind yet another volcano...

I made it to San Miguel and tried a few of the hotels my traffic officer friend had suggested… One of them was boarded up and was for sale, and the other was in an area that I did not like the look of…

Tucked out of sight behind the wall of the reception at Hotel Claire SS... The large white gate was locked at night, so safety for the bike was not an issue...

The police were out in force for some reason, small groups of them stood on street corners, armed to the teeth with pump-action shotguns… I guessed that things were perhaps as dangerous as people said they were…!!

Just as it was getting dark, I entered a congested residential area, and passed a brightly lit hotel… I saw the entrance too late to stop, and because it was a one way street, had to ride around the block to get back to it…

The Hotel Claire SS, was net and clean, and the young guys on duty almost fell over themselves to convince me to stay there…

The Big Fella had much to do with it…!! For the next two days, they spent a lot of time around the bike, asking all sorts of technical questions and clearly dreaming of the day that they would be able to own one just like it…!!

Bright and breezy...!! The rooms have air-conditioning, modern fittings, and a reasonable wireless signal, as well as very friendly staff...!! For $20.00....all good...!!

I spent some downtime in San Miguel, not only because I did not have to worry about either my safety or that of the bike, but because I realised that at the rate I was covering ground in Central America, I would arrive in Mexico five or six days before I needed to…!!

Four down and three to go.... So far, Central America has been a breeze...!!

©GBWT 2012

Although I spent most of the time cooped up in my hotel, I did spend SOME time seeing the sights of this interesting town on the shores of Lake Nicaragua…

The late afternoon sun lights up the new San Francisco Church in Granada....

It would seem that Nicaragua and Granada, are a common destination for “school” or “college” trips for American teenagers…

Whilst I was there, I saw at least four different busloads of them, either being marched from one monument or colonial building to another, or being ushered into restaurants and told, “We only have 45 minutes here people, so chow down and be ready to go by 2.00 pm”…!!

Most of the young women were rather inappropriately dressed in the tightest and skimpiest clothing, which at least had all the local men and boys grinning from ear to ear, and whipping out their cell phones to take photos of the girls…!!

Granada is recognized as the first European city to be established in the Americas, and building here began in 1524…

It was an important commercial hub for the Spaniards, because it is connected to the Caribbean and Atlantic Ocean, via Lake Nicaragua, (or Lago Cocibolca as it is known locally), and the San Juan River…

The Spanish Caravels could sail to within a very short distance of the Pacific coast, from where they could launch thier conquests of South America and establish colonies there without having to sail all the way around Cape Horn…

This was another option they had besides the one they later used in Panama…

This used to be the old city administration offices, and for some reason is currently being guarded by soldiers and policemen..!!. I am not sure if they were on some kind of exercise or not, because when I stopped to take a photo, I was waved away by a soldier carrying a machine-gun...!!

A view of one of the two towers of the Cathedral of Granada...

Some of the new buildings that line the Square of Independence...

The city was often besieged by British, French and Dutch pirates, who wanted to take control of this part of Central America, and the timber, gold and silver that was shipped from it…

It is fast becoming Nicaragua’s tourism hub, and is well-known throughout the region for its colonial architecture…

Many of the old buildings are slowly being renovated and returned to their former glory…

This old church, possible the old cathedral, is waiting in line... It is still being used for services, but was closed when I went to see inside...

My "office" in Granada...

Granada is the country’s fourth most populous city, with about 125 000 residents, but still maintains its old world charm…

It is fast becoming a popular place for Europeans and Americans to retire to, and hose prices are escalating at a healthy rate…!!

For me, the place was all about the architecture, and the colourful homes that are nestled between the newly renovated, and the old and falling down…!!

The next series of photos were taken during my frequents walks to get goodies from the supermarket, or just strolling about to get the circulation back into my legs…!!

Sitting on a hard wooden chair for hours on end, was no fun, but the only place from where I could get a decent internet signal…!!

Colourful walls are almost always finished off with white architraves around the door and window frames...

Horse and cart are a common sight in the town, and deliver as many goods to the small stores as trucks and delivery vans do...

Despite it being $2.00 cheaper, I did not stay here for fear of snide remarks being posted on my comments page...!!

These colourful carriages take tourists for short trips through the old part of the city.... They use the Plaza de la Independence as a terminus...

I wanted to knock on this door and ask how they came to decide on their colour combination...!! Walking around town, you can't help but smile at some of the garish colours the houses are painted in...!!

My take-away dinner was not packed in the usual polystyrene or plastic container, but rather in a banana leaf, cut into small pieces...!! The Plantain put the finishing touches to my memories of the time I spent in Ghana, West Africa....

On my second day in Granada, I decided to go for a ride down to the Marina, a few kilometres away, and see about a boat trip around the islands out in the lake…

I wandered down the road to the local fire station, which seems to double as a parking lot, to collect the Big Fella…

Tucked behind the only operating fire truck in town... The other one just out of the picture, was without an engine at the time I was there....!!

I sincerely hoped that the bicycles were not part and parcel of the fire-fighting equipment...!!

Parked on the shores of Lake Nicaragua... Some of the fishing trawlers were offloading their catch while I watched... Most of the fish were very small, and I wondered how much longer the lake could sustain this "harvest"...!!

Down by the "Marina", about 3 km out of town, I chose a large open-air restaurant to sit at, while I watched boatloads of tourists being ferried out into the lake down a narrow channel...

This guy was using a strange "left hand forward, right hand back" way of rowing, to cross the channel... It was like using your hands to ride a bicycle...!!

Lunch was a tasty piece of meat, lathered in a very hot sauce...!! And look....!!! Vegetables....!!

I decided against a three-hour boat trip to see monkeys swinging from the trees (the main selling point it would seem…!!) and went back to ride around town…

I was still intrigued by the colour schemes....!! You gotta love it...!!

Another view of the Cathedral, and the newly renovated office buildings....

Parked right outside the door of the La Merced Church.... From the outside, it looks like it has been through a war.... And it has too...!!

But from the inside, it is a different matter...!! Beautiful in its design and decorative simplicity....

Looking towards the altar from the main gallery.... This church has that "something" about it... I sat in one of the pews near the back, and let my eyes wander over every little detail... I felt content and at peace...

The stained glass window above the altar, with the afternoon sun filtering through it...

The sign said it all... Everyone wants to see "the best view" of anything....!!

But first you have to pay a dollar and then climb two sets of spiral staircases....

And the sign was right...!! There was a pretty darn good view up there...!!

With me around, this was just asking for trouble.... I only read the original printing, figuring that was the official request...!! Many townsfolk came to church a lot earlier than usual that day...!!

The "real view" from the tower of la Merced Church... Lake Nicaragua can be seen in the background...

I hurried from the church, “tsk-tsking” about the delinquents who had rung the bell in the tower, and hoping that I would not be roped into choir boy service if they discovered the real culprit…!!

Back at my hostel, I reflected on my memories of Granada, before plotting my route through to El Salvador for the following day…

My most abiding memories of this place will always be the multi-coloured homes of the old part of town… They are what for me, made my stay here both rewarding and fun…!!

One last one, then I must go...!! They brighten up what is otherwise a rather drab part of the world...!!

©GBWT 2012

With my face swollen right down to my jaw line, I had a rather restless night…

By morning, my left eye was almost closed by the large “mouse” that had developed on my cheekbone… There have been more joyous moments in my life, that I can tell you without fear of contradiction…!!

I headed towards San Isidro, but would take the turnoff to Uvita at Palmar Sur, long before I reached the higher mountains...

Even though it had barely gone 6.00am, I strolled down the road, hoping to find a place that had some ice… I found a coffee shop that was just opening, and sat down to have a cup of “wake up”… The two women who were serving and cooking, tut-tutted when they saw my face and found out what had happened…

“Abeja”, Spanish for bee, became a new swear word in my Spanglish vocabulary…

At 7.00am, I saw the shutters of a little pharmacy going up, and I high-tailed it over there to ask for some antihistamines…

The young woman found a box after a prolonged search, and then asked if I had eaten yet… I indicated that I had not…!! She came around the counter, took me by the arm, and pointed me back in the direction of the coffee shop, telling me to go eat something before she would sell me the tablets…!!

Telling her that I had a cast-iron stomach and the constitution of an ox, (except when it came to mangos…!!) made little difference…!! She put her hands on her slim hips and gave me a look that said, “Go and eat something Buster, or I’m not going to help you…!!”

It did not help telling her “that I was the boss of me” either, and I realised that she meant business and was acting in my best interests…

These steel bridges cross the many streams and rivers that run down to the coast from the central highlands and the rain forests that cover them...

Smiling to myself, I hoofed it back to the coffee shop, wolfed down two fried eggs on toast, chased them down with a second cup of coffee, and went back to the pharmacy…

A large tri-coloured tablet the size of a walnut, and a glass of water were waiting on the counter…

“Just the one…??” I asked… “This is serious woman…!! Give me more…!!”

“Si…. Solo una…!!”, she replied, thin of lip, and steely glint of eye…!!

I swallowed the nugget and marched back to my hotel, deciding that there was no point in riding today… My peripheral vision on the left side was totally impaired by my rapidly closing eye…

At midday I went back to pharmacy to confront bossy-pants…

“Uno mas, por favor…!!” I asked with a smile, trying to charm another antihistamine out of her…

“N0…!!” she said, “Sólo puede haber uno por día…!!”

Avoiding the mountains and the rain that seemed to be waiting up there, I turned west and drew a bead on the Pacific...

“What…!! Are these things addictive…?? Give me more for heaven’s sake…!! Can’t you see I’m allergic…!! Who is going to take the blame if my head bursts open like a ripe tomato…??”

She opened the flap in the counter and almost dragged me through to a small room, and told me to sit on the bed… She returned a minute later with a tube of Alergel ointment and a cotton bud… She washed here hands with an alcohol solution and then went out again… I prayed she was not going to return with a hypodermic needle in hand…!!

There were no windows to leap out of, just the one door leading back into the counter area… The sweat running downing my back, doubled…

I figured I should count to ten and then make a run for it… I got as far as eight when she came bustling in again… Fortunately, empty-handed…!! Relief flooded through my nervous system…

“Cierre el ojo…!!” she ordered…

“You mean more than it already is…?? The bloody thing is almost swollen shut already…!!”

Using the cotton bud, she very gently swabbed my temple and cheek with the gel, then told me to come back tomorrow…

“Manana…?? Woman, I know your kind…!! Today it’s a cotton bud…, tomorrow a needle…!! If you want to see me tomorrow, you better be waiting in Panama…!! And you better have some friends to hold me down…!!”

I said “Panama” hoping to throw her off the scent, you see…!! I was in fact heading in the totally opposite direction; to Nicaragua…!! I am a master of dis-information when it comes to avoiding things I don’t like…!!

Large areas of the forest have been cleared to plant more American Oil Palms, a tree native to this region but now planted in huge plantations for commercial purposes...

By evening my face was still swollen, but I would rather have hit my thumb with a hammer than go back to the pharmacy…!! I was pretty sure the next visit would involve a needle…!!

I went back to the Chinese restaurant, not so much for the food, but rather to lay my hands on more ice…!!

I chatted to a few truck drivers who seemed to know I was the guy staying at El Gran Impala, and that I rode a “motocicleta grande”… They told me that a truck had jack-knifed in the mountains leading to San Jose, and that the road might be closed for some time, so I changed my plans and later set a new route along the coast for the following day…

It was about 500 km to the Nicaraguan border with Costa Rica, and from there, I would decide how far into Nicaragua I could go… It all depended on the border posts…!!

I left the hotel at 7.00am, and headed north towards the fork in the highway that gave the choice to go via the mountains into San Jose, the capital, or via the coast…

Just as it had in Panama, the rain forest and tropical jungles grew right down to the edge of the road, except in areas which had been planted with Oil Palms… I hoped that the Costa Ricans had a handle on this situation, because I had seen how much forest had been lost to Oil Palm plantations in Malaysia and Indonesia…

Small farms also bordered the road, and most of them seemed to be dairy farms; their fat, healthy looking cattle, similar to Jersey cattle, but a lighter colour, grazing happily in lush green pastures…

We crossed the Rio General, just south of Palmar and headed for the coast… The road was in excellent condition, and with the Big Fella humming sweetly under me, and little or no traffic, we made good time…

On a rocky shoreline north of Dominicial, we stopped to take a breather...

We passed through Uvita and from time to time, I could see the Pacific peeping out from behind swaying coconut palms… This area is dotted with popular beaches where small and exclusive resorts have been built… The beaches I could see, were either rocky or had the black sand associated with the nearby volcanic ridges…

We passed Jaco and stayed on the coast, boring north at a steady clip...

We crossed the Rio Baru and then stopped just north of Dominicial to refuel… I could not understand why the bike was only taking on less than 20 litres of fuel, when I knew it to be empty…!! This tend would continue for the next few days, turning my usual accurate “fuel vs distance” calculations into a bit of a guess…!!

Not good when you run things down to the bone…!!

Further north, I passed through Jaco, and saw a number of tourists either taking walks or cycling along the main road…

This must be a popular destination for holidaymakers, although at a guess, I would say the Caribbean coastline with its white sandy beaches, was where most people who visited Costa Rica, went…

It was too early for lunch and too late for breakfast, but I stopped in Mata de Limon for a cup of coffee and a few Snickers bars anyway...

We passed through Quepos, Parrita and Tarcoles, many of the towns named after the rivers whose banks they were built on… We skirted the Carara National Park, and then joined the road that came from San Jose, and ran down to Punta Arenas…

I managed to avoid paying the toll fee on this major route, by sneaking past the barrier…

Never give a biker a gap an inch wider than his bike is, people…!!

The road took us back to the coast, and a long narrow lagoon close to Mata de Limon, where I was amazed to see a massive car-carrying ship offloading vehicles in what did not seem to a harbour of any significant size…

All there seemed to be, was a long breakwater and a row of low buildings… I assume there was a deep water channel that led right up to the shore, and this is how so large a vessel could berth there…

A bus load of American students arrived and surrounded the bike while I sat watching from inside…

I only wished I had a dollar for every photo that was ever taken of the Big Fella…!! There’d be no concerns about paying for petrol…ever…!!

This Cosco car-carrier was seemingly berthed in the middle of nowhere...!!

I still had a way to go before getting to the Nicaraguan border at Penas Blancas...

I still had another 200 km to ride before reaching the border, and I wanted to be there as early as possible, because I expected a delay of some sort… If you can negotiate both border posts in under two hours at any Central American crossing, then you are doing well…

Leafy green trees, but none of the thick undergrowth of Panama and southern Costa Rica.... This area receives far less rain that the rest of the country does...

I had Skyped with Roger Arnold in New Zealand the night before and his words still rang in my ears….

“Bro, you better take your tablets before you get to any of those border posts…!! You’re gonna need them…!!”

The “tablets he was referring to are “Patience Pills” I am always joking about…!!

I began encountering long lines of trucks and buses, all heading for the same border as I was, and determined to get there before them all, I let the Big Fella loose…!!

We carved our way up the Carretera Interamericana, passing through San Gerado, Arizona, and Canas, on the way to Liberia, the last big town before the border, but still 80 km short of it…

Running out of fuel long before I was supposed to...!!

This north-western part of Costa Rica looks vastly different to the southern areas…!! It is drier and reminded me of so many parts of South Africa that I had ridden in…

Just short of the border, I ran out of fuel, and had to use the last of my reserve fuel to get me to the service station at Penas Blancas… I was now more than just a little concerned about what the heck was happening with my fuel….!!

My reserve and range indicators were coming on a lot sooner than they should have…!! I was losing about 60 km of my normal range and wondered if I had a fuel leak somewhere…!!

At the service station I shook rattled and almost rolled the bike to get as much fuel into it as I could, and still managed to get just 18 litres into the tank, which had me totally confused…!!

I had ridden more than 20 km on the two litres I had put in when the bike had come to a complete stop without fuel… This meant that after the 20 km, I should have had only a litre in the tank, and it should have taken at least 21 litres to fill…!!!

Somehow, I had lost between 2 and 3 litres of the tanks capacity…!! This was huge if you consider that I have a VERY precise knowledge of how far I can get on a tank of fuel… Suddenly losing more than 10% of my normal range meant a lot to me…!! My long-range planning was in a shambles…!!

So you can appreciate that I was not in the best of moods when I reached the border…!! And I had forgotten to take my “Patience Pills”….!!

The Nicaraguan border post... Brace yourself.... Even the official's are confused....!!

The Costa Rican side was easy… They stamped my passport, and then took back my registration and waved me on…!! Fifteen minutes were all it took…

I had to find an ATM, because I had used the last of my money to fill the bike back in Penas Blancas…!! I was closely followed by a pack of young men, all waving wads of money in my face…!!

They must have all been born deaf, because I told them a dozen times I had no money to change…!!

Just inside Nicaragua, I passed close to the lake shore and saw the first of the two major volcanoes that stand on the opposite shore....

I found an ATM, then went to see Customs…. They sent me off to go get umpteen copies of my passport, drivers licence, registration papers, and the Costa Rican exit stamp in my passport…

This was the second one which is just a few kilometres further on...

Forget about arriving at the border with copies of everything…!!

There will ALWAYS be something that you can only get a copy of once you arrive there… I am sure the officials are in cahoots with the photo-copying agents…!!

I had to ride back through a narrow gap between a long line of trucks and a diamond-mesh fence to get to the front of the queue, and standing in the gap was the pack of jackals that had followed me to the ATM a few minutes before…

This time they were waving Immigration papers in my face… I indicated that I would count to five and then ride over whoever was still in front of me… At the count of five, I popped the clutch and tore into the gap… One of the guys rolled under a truck to get away and another climbed up the fence…!!

Tilting at windmills in Nicaragua...!! But where are the bandidos I was warned about...?? Working at the border posts, that's where...!!

The security guard nearly wet his pants with laughter, giving me a big thumbs up as I passed him…!! I paid a $3.00 entry fee, then another $1.00 to enter the Immigration building, then $10.00 for something or other, and another $2.00 for the cousin of something or other…

Asking what I was paying for got me a long explanation in gibberish, the language spoken at most border posts…!! Roughly translated, it usually means we are ripping you off because you are a gringo…!!

I debated whether or not to take Roger's advice and stay in San Juan del Sur, but I figured I was hardly likely to take advantage of the beach, and rather pushed on along the lake, hoping to reach Granada before sunset...

I then had to go to one police office after another, where I first got a stamp on a piece of paper, then went to show another policeman the stamp; who then signed the piece of paper and sent me back to the first policeman, who looked at it and then sent me to the Customs officer to have my bike documented on their computer…

This guy then sent me back to the second policeman who stamped the document and sent me back to the first policeman to sign it…!!

All this was taking place in heat that made me glad I did not have a tattoo… The damn thing would have slid right off my body…!!

Just as I was mounting up, another guy came running over to tell me that I had to pay another $5.00 for insurance… He was carrying the same little receipt book that every man and his dog seemed to have on his person, and I smelt a scam…

“I have paid enough to you and your little band of robbers, and am not shelling out another dollar…!! So take your little receipt book, roll it into a tube, and shove where the sun don’t shine…!!”

I kicked the bike into gear and rode towards the main gates… I was stopped, my passport checked and I was waved into Nicaragua…

For me, a sure sign of a poor country is when you see people collecting and selling firewood... Nicaragua is no different...!!

Roger had suggested I make for the Pacific coast and stay at a small village where surfers and backpackers hang out, but I still had an hour off daylight left and preferred to push on and cover the 90 km to Granada, a historical town on the shores of Lake Nicaragua…

Gone were the ten shades of green that I had been riding though in Costa Rica and Panama... In their place was a landscape that was a lot drier, despite the presence of the largest lake in Central America and the 19th largest in the world...!!

I passed horse-drawn carts and guys on bicycles, loaded down with firewood, and large areas where trees had been chopped down for their fuel…

This was the usual sign that poverty was a daily part of life, and judging by the shacks I saw from the roadside, Nicaragua was a lot poorer than its southern neighbor…

Cattle stop just outside Granada... Shades of Africa...!!

The entry into the town was just like so many other dirty, grubby little towns I had ridden through...

I took the turnoff to Granada, wondering if I should push on to Managua, the capital, just 65 km away, but was later glad that I did not…!!

It had been a long day and I had already covered over 600 km and probably lost a few pounds sweating my nether regions off…!!

The entry to the town was awash with litter, and I began to wonder if I’d made the right decision by coming here… But then I rode into an area closer to the lake and into the old part of the town, where all the houses were gaily painted in a kaleidoscope of un-matched colours…!!

I started grinning the deeper I got among the many narrow one-way streets, passing old churches and colonial buildings that dated back hundreds of years…

A few of them looked as though they were about to fall down, but others had been renovated and cleaned up, and now contained hotels and little boutiques that sold clothing and even electronic goods…

But for the most part, the town appealed to me in a way that I found hard to describe…!! It took me a long time to find the main square, or the Plaza de le Independence as it is known, and there I found more buildings that had me stopping to snap photos, even though the sun was setting and I had not yet found a place to stay…

Gaily painted homes of Granada...!! I wished the Bolivians and Peruvians could see this... Imagine how much more places like San Pedro de Atacama would appeal to tourists if they made an effort to paint their homes...!!

The first hotel I stopped at was old world from the outside and very “New World” from the inside…!! The minute I stepped off the street and into the lobby, I knew that it would be too pricey…!! At $100.00 a night, I was quite right…!!

I thought of Tomasso, an architect by profession, and knew that he would have loved Granada...!!

Just around the corner were five hostels standing shoulder to shoulder… The first one had no parking for the bike, the second one said I could park the bike at the local fire station just a hundred metres away, and I agreed to this arrangement…

The $10.00 a room also helped me make up my mind…!!

The only problem with the Hostal La Cassita, was that my room was right on the street and right next to the front door, and backpackers arrived at all hours of the night, and banged loudly on the door for the night duty guy to open up and let them in…!!

Nevertheless, I spent three nights and two full days in Granada and although most of it was spent writing, I did get out a bit to take in some of the sights…

Those photos will have to wait, as I have a 6.00am appointment with the road to San Salvador, where I am meeting Tiernan Mennen for breakfast at 8.00 am…!! He is a nephew of Patricia’s and is on a business trip in El Salvador… I last met him at Caitlin’s wedding in November and look forward to meeting him again…!!

©GBWT 2012

Well that was this morning….!!

This evening I am in Granada, Nicaragua…!!

Caned it through Costa Rica, making a 600 km ride from close to the Panama border, and through to Granada, a small town on the northern edge of Lake Nicaragua…!!

Stopping for a short break along the Costa Rican coastline, just north of Dominicial...

"Jesus, Maria...!! I can't find my Tivives...!!"

The Dark Destroyer came to the rescue at the border, and I made it through both border posts in just under an hour, refusing to make use of the many touts that surrounded me, as I arrived…!!

Buggers awakened my goat…!!

Which saw a pair of them almost flattened by a roaring Big Fella…

See…!! Even he was annoyed….!!

I have made two rides through Central America now, covering just over 1 200 km, and passing through three countries…

I’ll be nailing Nicaragua and Honduras on my third ride, and sailing through El Salvador and into Guatemala on my fourth…!!

My rides are planned with the border crossings firmly in mind, because these are the points where all your best laid plans, can come to grief… It is not unusual to be stuck at these borders longer than it takes to ride from one end of the country to the other…!!

GB

Granada, Nicaragua.

Dry fields and Volcanoes... Edge of Lake Nicaragua....

Cloud Dancer.... (It's a ballerina, for goodness sake...!! Look carefully...!!)

After successfully shedding my Colombian Pesos in exchange for Dollars, and taking a 10 % knock on the currency, I headed back downtown, looking for the road that would take me over the Panama Canal… I was hoping to find a spot where I could see vessels entering and exiting the giant locks…

Panama was recently ranked 40th in the world for the amount of high-rise buildings it has...

There is even one with a "twist" to it...!! And 30 more buildings are currently under construction...

Panama City is probably the most modern city in Central America and the downtown area has a surprising amount of high-rise buildings for this part of the world…

The city has become a centre for banking in the Americas… Apparently this has nothing to do with the fact that huge amounts of money earned by the Colombian drug cartels, is “washed” here…!!

My hotel was not situated anywhere near these fancy buildings, in fact it was in the rather seedy area known as Bella Vista…

The Panamanian people seemed to be surly rather than friendly, a far cry from the Colombians, who seemed to smile far more, than grimace…!!

My greetings were hardly ever returned, and I got the impression that the people around me were not too happy with life…

I found no reason to hang around and see any of the sights in the city, but did find out a little about its history…

This was the base from where the Spanish Conquistadores set off to colonize the western seaboard of South America, and conquer the Inca Empire…

The vast majority of the gold and silver plundered by the Spanish, passed through Panama on its way back to Europe…

Even Thomas has a swanky pad here....!!

The city was burned to the ground by the pirate Henry Morgan in 1671… It was rebuilt two years later, a short distance from the original city, which is still in ruins today, and is a major tourist attraction…

Taking the road that would lead to Costa Rica, 490 km away....

Panama is at the narrowest part of Central America and barely 60 km wide where the Canal joins the Pacific to the Caribbean and Atlantic… More than 50 % of the country’s GDP comes from the revenue it earns from the Canal, and the banking service industry located in Panama City…

The remainder of the country is basically undeveloped, with rain forest stretching from coast to coast… Along the Pan-American Highway, small farming communities have been established, and the flatter areas of the jungle have been cleared to plant bananas, pineapple and sugar cane….

For the most part however, people seem to survive on subsistence farming….

Panama Canal Route....

The ride through Panama went far more smoothly than I had expected… For much of the way, I found myself on a dual carriageway, which allowed for speeds higher than I was led to believe were possible… Perhaps the population had decided that they would celebrate May the 1st anyway, despite it being moved to the day before, because traffic all along the route was light…

I crossed over the massive “Bridge of the Americas”, spanning the Pacific entrance to the Panama Canal… I was amazed to see the huge vessels lining up to go into the series of locks that raised the water levels, and allowed the vessels to sail “up” into Lake Gatun, and then through yet another series of locks, “down” to the Caribbean and Atlantic beyond…

This “shortcut” cost 22 000 workers their lives during the building of the canal, due mainly to mosquito-borne diseases such as malaria and yellow-fever… To give you an idea of what it costs to use the canal, a fully laden container ship has to pay about $500 000.00 to travel the 71 km from the Pacific through to the Atlantic…!!

I was unable to take any photos from the bridge, due to one lane being closed for maintenance, and traffic backing up right into the city…

By the time I stopped here, I was ready to eat a horse...!! Which was probably what was being served...!!

Brunch looked like this....!!

I passed through Aguadulce, close to the Pacific Coast but always out of sight of it, and then stopped for a brunch in Santiago, and had a meal that I wolfed down…

I realised that I had not eaten a proper meal since Sunday night in Bogota…!! I had been subsisting on water and crackers for the last 40-odd hours…!!

The road side diner was being repainted by two young guys who had just as much paint on their clothes as they were putting onto the walls…!!

The strong smell of enamel based paint only dissipated somewhat, when I had my nose in my coffee cup…!!

There was very little to see along the highway, large stands of Mahogany and other hardwood trees blocking out any views of the countryside… Many of the canopies of these large tress met high above me, and contained flocks of birds whose screeching I could hear right inside my helmet…!!

Delighted to be making such good time on my first ride through Central America...!!

I stopped to refuel at De la Mesa, a small village straddling the highway, where a crowd of people came over to see the bike, while the pump was spewing petrol into a thirsty Big Fella… This was the first indication I would get that something was going haywire with his consumption… Or perhaps there was something else amiss…??

I rode on, through the large town of David, where I had actually planned to lay over in, and saw that it had just gone 2.00 pm…!!

I had covered the distance to here, far quicker than I had hoped to, and decided to make a run for the Costa Rican border, which was just 55 km away…

Getting out of Panama was a simple affair… My passport was stamped and then I handed my bike registration papers in and was told to proceed into Costa Rica…

And that was where things went a little pear-shaped…

Immigration took barely a few minutes, and then the customs folk indicated that I would need insurance before I could enter Costa Rica… Fair enough… I had gotten away without any insurance in Panama, so was one up on Central America at that point anyway…!!

The only place that sold the “Seguro” was a little grimy office across the road… I jogged across the road through a light drizzle that had settled over the border post, and found that the office was closed…!! There were a number of other people standing peering through the grubby windows, all muttering dark things in Spanish…

We waited for over an hour before one of the passengers on a bus that was also being held up, called a “politician” friend of hers on her cell phone and explained the situation…

Ten minutes later, a taxi pulled up and a rather disgruntled looking young man, wearing a vest and short, got out of the taxi, and squelched barefoot through the mud and into the office…

The Insurance cost $19.00, and the photocopy thereof another 50 cents… I dashed across the road to get to the Customs before the other drivers, and watched as my details were punched into the computer…. As usual, the fact that I was travelling on a Portuguese passport on a bike registered in South Africa, caused confusion…

I was then told to go have the bike fumigated…!! This took only a few minutes, and cost $3.00….

"Is this really necessary...??"

I rode the bike back to Customs, got the final stamp, and then they wanted to verify the chassis and engine numbers… I showed them where the chassis number was and then told them that if they could find the engine number, I would bend down, grab my ankles and let them have their way with me…!!

I have searched for the engine number on this bike for more than two years and am no closer to locating it…!!

Had it not been for the weather, I would have easily made it to San Isidro...!!

While all this was taking place, the rain had been falling steadily, washing away my hopes of making a long fast ride deeper in Costa Rica… Where to exactly, I wasn’t sure, but covering as much ground as possible before the sun set, was a priority on any given day of riding with me…!!

As I was leaving the border, the rain eased off, but the road surface was still too slick with water and tell-tale rainbow coloured oil residue, for me to give it too much gas…!!

A short while later, something hit me on my left temple, and instead of bouncing off, stuck there… I had just entered a long, looping right-handed bend, and was dodging the odd small pothole, so could not reach up to brush away whatever it was that was trying to work its way into my helmet…

Just as I got the bike straightened up, I felt the sharp prick of a sting, and knew that I had collected a wasp or a bee, and that I was in a little spot of bother… I flicked the “thing” away, but of course it was too late…!!

Just then I rode into another patch of heavy rain, and could see that it stretched far ahead of me… I did not have my rain gear on either, and as I entered the small town of Rio Claro, I made up my mind to call it quits for the day…

With light rain falling, and much more on the way, I decided that I had accomplished enough distance for the day...

Off to my right I saw a large neatly painted hotel, which looked like an oasis in a sea of drab concrete, and pulled over into the Gran Impala Hotel, a spot that was frequented by cross border truckers, judging by the many rigs parked outside and in the back courtyard area…

For $16.00, I got a room with a ceiling fan and a private bathroom, and was lucky enough to be close to the reception, where the internet signal was weak but constant…

By the time I had ridden into the rear courtyard, unloaded the bike, covered it, undressed and had a shower, the left side of my face was swelling quiet nicely…!! My left eye was beginning to close, and a decent sized headache was brewing…!!

I could not find any antihistamine in my first aid kit, so took two Voltaren, a sinus tablet and a charcoal tablet for good measure, and then went out to look for a meal…

Rio Claro at dusk... The Pan American highway runs through the centre of town, and is a good place to stop if you are planning to head into Panama the next day, or like me, planning to ride through Costa Rica and into Nicaragua...

I ate at the Chinese restaurant across the road and was surprised by the large menu, and the amount of people who were seated there when I arrived… I must have looked like I had been in a fight, because the waitress refused to look me in the eye, and even the hardened truckers seemed to give me a wide berth…!!

I sat holding a large piece of ice to the side of my face with one hand, while I ate with the other… The water dripping off my chin added to the gravy that smothered my “Chop Suey Carne”….

Although the day had ended with a spot of bother, it had nonetheless been a good ride, and I had managed to get one of the 8 border posts that I would have to cross in the next two weeks, under my belt…

©GBWT 2012