Costa Rica and Panama

I knew Jenda was travelling in Costa Rica but I what I didn’t know is that I was supposed to meet up with her. OOPS!  After receiving a slightly distressed email wondering where I was we agreed to meet in Monteverde.  

I crossed the border into Costa Rica from San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua and arrived in Liberia around dinner time on March 18th. I only stayed the night in Liberia and the next day I entered Monteverde Park. I spent the afternoon hiking the trails and then I caught up to Jenda later that day and 3 days after hearing from her. After a couple days of hiking and searching; I still didn’t see a quetzal! The park was like what I had remembered before, but the town of St. Helen has certainly turned it up a notch. There were international class restaurants everywhere and even paved streets!

From St Helen we left together and drove to the active Volcan Arenal. The volcano was socked in so we could only hear the occasional eruptions but not see any fire or brimstone. The trip was everything a drive through the rain forest is supposed to be… gorgeous, fresh, rainy, and interrupted by a mudslide that closed the highway to San Jose.

Camping in Costa Rica seems to be geared for tents as every place I go to advertising 'camping' seems to leave me in the parking lot. This was no different at Areanal and La Virgen where we went whitewater rafting on the Rio Torro. Designed for tenters, the official camp was on an island where you would need to pack you gear into. Instead, We camped in the motel parking lot. It sounds worse than it was. The blessing was that it had a nice sheltered area that I could set up the kitchen and keep out of the torrential downpours that came most of the day and into the evening. From the motel parking lot, the other camp was down an embankment, across a small creek (2 meters wide and 1 meter deep) and up the bank of the river we went rafting in. Another time I may have found myself a private little spot to camp by the riverside. After settling in for the night the motel owners thought it was important to wake me and show me a very unsettling sight... With the rain, the small creek had swelled into a mad, brown, boiling, dangerous river. The once small creek had grown to be at least 200 meters wide and about 2 meters below flooding into the motel. It was a deadly realization, but apparently quite a normal occurrence. I could only imagine what the rest of the river looked like. There is no doubt that if I had been camped anywhere near that river my van would be in the Caribbean Sea by now. Camping on the island would have been horrific (but above the high water mark as it turns out). It was a dramatic lesson learned the easy way.

Prior to the rain it was mostly class III rapids down the Rio Torro. The rafting outfitters were a lot of fun and the scenery through the jungle was quite impressive. It rained almost the entire time but it wasn’t cold until the very end. It has put the bug in me to try the class IV and V rapids I have been reading about.

The first attempt into Tortugero Park on the Caribbean side was a wash out due to the rain. The weather was supposed to be better on the Pacific Coast so a change of plans got us turned around and stuck in traffic due to a mud slide. After another detour we finally made it to the very dry heat of Jaco beach by the end of a long day. Everything I did in Jaco was illegal in Canada and most of the world so I can’t write about it. Oh ya; I did take some surf lessons. I got up my first time and many times… you should have seen me. I made it look easy!!!

Avoiding the heat, sea kayaking at Playa Samara, and chilling in the pool at Playa Coco rounded up the Costa Rican Pacific Coast beach experience and Jenda’s vacation before I returned to Tortugero via San Jose.

The weather held out for me this time and I took the boat up the river to Tortugero Park. I found a room for $15 and some really good jerk chicken but other than that the town was no screaming hell. I think there are some really exclusive ‘eco lodges’ hidden away in the jungle but I didn’t see any. I organized a canoe trip into the lagoons for the next morning but because the guide couldn’t come up with other clients he decided not to go. Fortunately there was another couple going in a motorized boat that had some spare room and I hoped in with them. We cruised around for about 3 hours and saw all kinds of birds, monkeys, plants, and reptiles. I left that same afternoon to get to the ‘party town’ of Puerto Viejo on the Caribbean Coast…

What a nightmare! It was Santa Semana and there wasn’t a room anywhere. The only street in town was gridlocked even though the entire grid is only 10 blocks long and 2 wide. Again, I ended up camping in a hotel parking lot. It wasn’t bad actually as it was quite secluded and had a lot of trees and bushes to pee behind. I would leave with the van during the day and set up on the beach with my books, binoculars, beach blanket, BBQ, bananas, beers, buds, and bun ban botion and return in the evening to my barking lot. Yeah, a dog kennel! The dogs got quite when I turned the lights off. The following Monday the town absolutely cleared out and I treated myself to a very nice $35 room with a real shower and a flush toilet. It was heavenly!

From there I moved down the coast near Cahuita where I camped on the beach and did day trips into Puerto Limon to investigate shipping the van to Colombia. I got lucky and found myself an unemployed Aduana official that bustled me around making contacts. From here I returned to San Jose to meet with the shipper and go over the details that I couldn’t figure out because of my poor Spanish. I also found storage so that I could lighten the load in South America… After all the work I did I found that for about $1400.00 I can get the van to Columbia and I estimate another $1400.00 will get it back. It was about this time when I got an email from a sympathetic blogger suggesting I need a free week at a Caribbean resort on my way to Colombia. I think I can fit that in too! I’ll let you know how that goes later… So where was I??? Oh ya…

I left San Jose with my head spinning, trying to figure out how to best use the little time I have left. I drove on to Corrcovado in Southern Costa Rica and found a gorgeous spot under a huge tree overlooking the bay. I asked the farmer if I could set up in his field, we exchanged some small talk, I made a quick dinner, and watched the sun set… Boo hoo, another gorgeous sunset alone… I am getting used to it! Any blog readers feeling sorry for me? Somehow I doubt it, but if so… maybe Turkey or the Mediterranean somewhere!! ‘Sign me up’ I say!

Anyhow… the next day I drove into Drake Bay. There were some pretty sketchy bridges to cross and quite a few creeks I had to foerd. I thought about the rains and reminded myself what could be. I set up camp, got poured on, and then watched a guy steal my cooler in the middle of the night. I even yelled at him… I wasn’t sure what it was at first and then I realized what was happening. I gave him a ‘WTF’ and got my pants on. He still took off with the cooler! I quickly realized I wasn’t going to chase this guy through the jungle for an empty cooler… Asshole! I didn’t feel comfortable leaving my van unattended in this spot anymore so I cancelled my hiking plans and left the next day. Too bad,  I think the trails would have been awesome.

 

Leaving there I crossed the border into Panama on April 12th.  I made it to the Panama Canal… YAHOO! A Major Milestone… according to the original plan it is half of the way. I see why they call Panama City the Miami of Panama… not that I have ever been to Miami! The ocean front high-rises quickly give way to the rougher city hidden behind. The historical part of the city reminded me of Havana Cuba. The canal was cool. I watched some ships go through at the Miraflores locks and then went to the museum. The city was interesting, the highways were decent, and the landscape was mostly pasture with patches of remaining jungle. It was quite pretty. I got lost driving in that @%^&%^$% city and nearly into an accident… pissed me off! It would have been my fault, but not a sign anywhere!!! I would have blamed it on the system, clashed my teeth, and threw dust on myself. They would know I was seriously upset.

From the canal I drove to the Caribbean coast by Bocas Del Torros and back into Costa Rica at Puerto Viejo again.  I rolled into town, found my favorite place with a shower and toilet and laid up for the night.  The next morning I stocked up on food and beverages and headed out for the isolated beaches for a few days of camping and relaxing.  With the entire beach to myself I practiced my TKD naked, and my Spanish lessons... naked, I sun tanned naked, and I slept naked.  The odd thing was, I showered with my gaunch on.  I have a photo but decided not to post it!  Once the groceries, and more importantly the water ran out, I returned to San jose to gear down and prepare for travelling South... That's were I am now...

So, I have decided...  I will arrive in Colombia with only the things I can carry...  I have a Spanish course booked in Cartagena and I hope I have closed a deal on a nice apartment.

Nicaragua

I know it’s not fair to the rest of Honduras but I was glad to leave and arrive in Nicaragua. I basically bypassed Honduras due to the fact that I would have to back track to see the places I want to visit. If things work out, I’ll see more of it when I am returning north. Oh man I said it… heading north… I have been on the road for 8 months now. I need to be back in Edmonton for October (unless work was kidding and I have actually been fired), so that leaves me with 6 months. It sounds like a lot of time but I know I’ll need at least a month at home to get organized; it would take me a month to drive home from here (Costa Rica) if I was on the road every day and without problems. That leaves me about 4 months to finish Costa Rica and sample South America. I really don’t think I’ll make it any further south than Bolivia unless I am taking flights. Everyone tells me that I must see the one country I was planning on avoiding… Colombia! My thoughts are Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, the upper Amazon basin of Brazil and ship north from Venezuela. Ship to where??? I will figure that out later.

Nicaragua was nice but not all that exciting. I hung out in the city of Leon for a couple of days while I survived my first bout of ‘digestive system instability’. I am not sure if it was due to the spicy kung-pow chicken the day before or a little left over stress from the border crossings. From Leon, I drove through Managua to Volcan Masaya. It was fairly straight forward other than getting lost briefly in Managua and finding myself in a small slum. There were shelters built from tattered pieces of plastic, corrugated steel, and pieces of plywood. There were a few cows and horses that were so skinny I was surprised that they could even stand. I thought it odd to find it so close to the center of the city. It looked like the ‘village’ took over what used to be a park. I turned around, took the turn I missed, and continued on my way. It was like a ‘Discovery Channel experience’ because I kept my windows up, air conditioning on, and the music playing. This isolated me from the heat, the smell, and sounds outside of my van. Volcan Masaya was a nice area to walk around. The ‘park ranger’ talked me into talking a night walk around the crater to see the activity in the volcano and to explore some caves but the guide didn’t show up.

Granada is a very nice city. It reminded me of Antigua as every second building around the central park has been converted to a restaurant or club. The street leading to Nicaragua Lake from the center has restricted traffic flow and opens up in the evening to live music and street performers. The locals were friendly... I met one girl who figured ‘it must be destiny’ because she already had my name tattooed on her breast. Even though the spelling was correct, I suggested it was probably a different Brian and found a different café. Besides that she was trying to sell me a ‘chupa chupa’ for $35.00 and I got the impression she wasn’t talking about a charm bracelet.

After a few days in Granada I continued on to Isla de Ometepe on Lago de Nicaragua ‘chupaless’. I crossed on the ferry with the van where I cruised around for a couple of days. The volcano I planned to climb was acting up and was closed to the public. Plumes of smoke and dust would regularly rise several hundred meters above the volcano each time it erupted. Without the walk my stay left me with little to do here so I left and bounced of Playa del Sur for lunch on the way to Costa Rica.

Before leaving Nicaragua I had planned on heading to the Mosquito Coast and visiting the Corn Islands but when I was arranging the trip I learned that the Italian version of ‘Survivor’ was being filmed there and the area was temporarily over-run. It’s now another destination I will try to see on the return trip. Oops, that’s twice in one blog entry.

El Salvador hospitality and Honduran corruption at it's finest

With the van fixed up and ready to go I stayed one more night in Guatemala City and linked up with Eva and Michel who I had meet earlier in Belize and were on their way back from Costa Rica. It goes to show how slow I am going because in the time I visited Guatemala they have been to Costa Rica and back again. The next day I had an easy crossing into El Salvador and landed in Santa Ana by mid-day. I had planned to stay the day but I couldn’t find a decent place to stay. The town seemed a little run down and dirty for me. I decided to bug out to a small town called Ahuachapan a little further south. It was starting to get late in the day and I wasn’t sure where I was going to stay when I found a nice restaurant by the highway with a large, green parking area. I pulled in and asked if I could camp in the parking lot for the night and the waiter went to ask the owner if it would be ok…

William came back with a better plan and suggested I could stay the night in his home. I had noticed a small brick out building when I drove in and asked if that was his home. He laughed as it turned out to be the quail coop. He assured me his home was a little nicer and had room enough for me. He suggested a visit downtown while he tended to the restaurant. The town center was really nice. I didn’t see a lot of it but I did manage to grab a coffee and watch the evening settle in on the town. I returned to the restaurant a little early as I was concerned that I would get lost on the return trip and leave him waiting for me. There were 3 ladies having after dinner cocktails and dancing with each other. I was invited to join them and take a few dance lessons. After this it got a little confusing because I am sure they said they were related to William… sisters, aunts, nieces… I dunno anymore. Anyways they asked me to come to their home and meet their father???? I discussed what was going on with William and he said ‘Ok, the girls know where he lives, just show up at the house after your visit.’ I went to the house and there was no ‘father’ there. It was weird as I was suddenly alone with 3 women in their home. I was polite, looked at some pictures, declined the cocktails, ignored the inuendo, and then indicated I shouldn’t keep my host waiting. We left and they took me to Williams place. It was no chicken coop… The home was in a gated community. It was very large and open. It was decorated with Asian furniture, had a large pool, and a view of the country side dominated by a large volcano. He had a maid that did my laundry and cooked us meals for the next 2 days. I explained my confusion to him and he explained that the ladies were no relation to him at all, but were regular customers that always enjoyed a cocktail or 2 after their dinner. Whatever!!!

William lives in the home with his 3 children and his wife who also spends time teaching in Guatemala. We spent the next day tending to his goats, shopping in the open market for the restaurant, visiting the mud geysers, and the geo-thermal power plant. We also toured the town and some of the sites in town. He was a very gracious and accommodating host.

After leaving his place I drove the long way to Cerro Verde National park. I set up camp in an open field near an ‘eco-lodge’ and geared up to climb the volcano the next day.

I walked to the base of the volcano and was expecting to be the lone climber when a tour group of about 25 Canadians rolled in and broke the tranquility. We hiked up the volcano with an armed guard leading and another taking up the rear position. It was a great day and a relatively easy climb.  I am not sure what it is, but a women in uniform with a gun and handcuffs made me feel very..... safe :)

From Cerro Verde I headed to Playa El Tunco on the coast. I camped in a motel parking lot next to the river. As it turns out the area doubled as public parking and I had to pay an extra $2.00 for enough room to set up my kitchen and extend my awning. It was another amazingly hot beach. The shade of the restaurants and the breeze later in the evening was God sent. I met an El Salvadorian lady (Juli, not to be confused with Julie) and her daughter (Alejandra). I initially thought they were sisters or perhaps friends but I was wrong and mom was flattered. We learned a little about each other while I practiced my Spanish. Alejandra was able to fill in the gaps as her English was a lot better than my Spanish. When asked I explained that my dancing was worse than my Spanish. Again the El Salvadorian hospitality was extended to me… Juli took her daughter home and took me dancing. We did pretty well and one local dude, who was pretty good himself, even commented that we shuffled around fairly gracefully for a first timer. It was a good thing she knew what she was doing.

I tried to find the town of Alegria when I left El Tunco but I got lost and ended up at the Honduras border. I decided to spend the night in a recreation area and cross the border the next morning. The border crossing pissed me off. Everyone had their hand out for a tip. And when you gave one they complained and tried to intimidate me into giving more. The Customs prick asked if I was carrying guns and asked if I had ever been in a Honduran jail. He indicated that he was going to spend the afternoon searching my vehicle. My guide being very helpful gave the gesture of wrists in hadcuffs.  I told my guide that the ‘Hollywood’ was really boring and if I have to pay the guy a tip just say so. I reminded him (less then politely) why I hired him and I wasn’t interested in playing their stupid games. I then paid $20.00 to the customs agentfor ‘special express service’. In the end I also paid my ‘guide’ $10.00. He started getting in my face because he wanted more and then his friend showed up to 'support his claim'. I asked the friend ‘Who the @$#$@#%@ are you?’ and told him to get lost as we didn’t need his services. He left, I tore a strip of my guide, and reminded him that I had been subject to intimidation tactics since I got there and I wasn’t going to take it from him. He was supposed to prevent all of that. I was in his face and not backing down. He took the 10 bucks, gave me his best 'tough guy' look and left. I wanted to smash his skull and I think he knew it. Two kilometers later I got pulled over by the police…. A young punk with a gun and a greasy attitude was backed up by 2 other retards. I didn’t have reflectors and if I didn’t want a ticket I would have to pay a ‘tip’. I gave him $5.00 and was pissed off because I wasn’t carrying smaller bills. We were best friends when we left. It’s a good thing he didn’t speak English or I may have been in that Honduran jail the last guy talked about. The second police check was 2 older guys pushing the same infraction. I told him that I already paid a fine to the last police. I showed him that my flashers and how everything else on the van works perfectly. I told him that if I have to pay $5.00 to every policeman in Honduras then I’d rather he give me a ticket. He laughed and sent me on my way. I made it across the Nicaraguan border the same day after paying a fraction of the tips I did at the previous crossing. I think it was due to the little talk I had with my guide before we started the whole process.

I am so far behind on my blog.  I will try to add something really soon about the 2 weeks I spent in Nicaragua before arriving in Costa Rica where I am at now.

Guatemala

From San Ignacio (Belize) I crossed the border into Guatemala and arrived at the Yaxha National Park. I had no expectation except to have a camp spot and I am glad to say my expectations were greatly exceeded. I was quite impressed by the Mayan ruins and the beauty of the lake and surrounding jungle. I got a great camp spot on the lake front that included cold showers and a fire pit nearby. Again, I saw a lot of wildlife and birds including Toucans, LBJ’s (my best birder humor), Howler and Spider monkeys, pacas, coatamundies???, and a small fox to name a few of the critters I can identify.  I stayed as long as my groceries and water lasted and then continued on to Tikal a couple of days later.

In my opinion, Tikal is the most impressive ruins between Mexico and Copan in Honduras. The site is huge, the climbs are scary, the views are amazing, the jungle is alive, the atmosphere was mysterious and the camping was adequate (the shower was filthy). The only change I could recall from my previous trip here years ago is the addition of wooden stairs/ladders climbing the larger temples. Some climbs are not for the faint of heart. I defiantly had the heeby jeebys on temple 5. I stayed in Tikal long enough to explore the ruins, breath the air, search for wildlife, damn near break my neck, and to lose my newly prescribed, overpriced eye glasses (that’s 2 days).

After Tikal I spent a half day in Flores unsuccessfully trying to get gas for cooking. Finally concerned that I may end up on a back road somewhere at night I left for the lake near Sayaxche without propane. When I got there it didn’t feel right. The spot I found at the lake was just a dead end road with no designated place to park except, perhaps in a farmer’s field. The town I drove through on the way to the lake seemed off too. On the way in I saw a young albino girl sweeping the veranda of their shack. On the way out I swear I saw a scene out of the movie ‘Deliverance’… An older man was rocking his chair on the same veranda where I saw the girl earlier.  He had a cigarette hanging from his mouth, and he was looking at me as if to say ‘What the #$%&*@%*& are you looking at?’ Leaving the yard and now walking in the middle of the road were 3 children. The same young albino girl was holding the hand of an older girl who appeared to have downs syndrome. The third child was a boy with obvious mental and physical defects. They were not inclined to move from the middle of the road and the boy menacingly hobbled to the window to beg. He had a very angry feel about him. I gave him a couple of coins and left town. I feel a little guilty/judgmental about my conclusion but regardless I’ll just say this… ‘incest is not best!’

After this I headed further south down the road to Aguateca. After driving 20 minutes off the main road to find this place I was starting to get concerned that I was going to repeat the events from earlier in the day. I finally pulled into a small store selling corn and sodas to ask for directions. I got lucky and a lady there was previously from the USA and could speak really good English. I had arrived at the right location but they informed me that I couldn’t go into the park with my car. There was a school out front and I asked if it would be ok to park there for the night. They insisted that I park at the store instead. I had to put on a show and set up the van and the kitchen so my hosts (and half the town) could see what I was up to. They were impressed by the kitchen and the bed but really impressed by the awning and my meat thermometer. They had a stack of wood and I asked if I could buy some because I was out of propane. They responded by letting me cook in their kitchen. I ate at their table and promptly started a fight between the cat and the dog by feeding them under the table. It was vicious and I was quite embarrassed. They responded by kicking the dog. It wasn’t long before we had attracted all of the neighbors who were curious about the gringo and his carro casa (motorhome). The porch was filled with no less than 30 people young and old. All the boys checked out the van and my bicycle and all the young girls seemed to giggle and blush when I smiled at them. Later, the TV was turned on and we all watched some farfetched American hero movie in Spanish. I had been carrying a pack of jiffy popcorn since it was given to me by a church group last September in California, and this popcorn finally found its destiny in the very dirty hands of some young Guatemalan kids. After the movie I could hear the voices of people singing and a guitar playing. I stepped out into the dark night to listen when a young boy noticed my actions and asked if I want to see the music. We went to the next house down the hill and slipped into the back of the congregation. Church was being held with a group of about 20 followers. I was told that church was held every night until midnight… it was 10:00. I prayed for a way out but God choose to ignore me this time. I listened to the music and said a prayer when people bowed to do so. Suddenly I was starting to pick up words I understood… Canadiense, loco, soletario, viaje, carro, Sur America…. He turned to me and asked me if I knew Jesus… I responded with ‘Jesus es mi amigo.’ (Obviously somebody important is my friend or I would not have made it out of the last town…) He asked me a few questions about my trip and I tried to respond in Spanish. There were a few Spanish ‘amen’s and halleluiahs’. I got off the hook eventually and the groups went back to song and prayer. After a while people would go to the front and ask for the groups prayers or sing a song of dedication. Finally, (and I could feel it coming) I was asked if I wanted to come to the front and share a few words… I spoke mostly in English and asked the speaker to translate for me. I just told them that I was on a journey and trying to safely find my way. I thanked God, asked for His guidance, and asked for their prayers. It was a very interesting day and a very cultural experience.

The next morning I headed to Coban after a failed attempt to get into the caves at Candelaria. If it was dry I may have made it to the caves but it was pouring, and I didn’t want to end up stuck or broke down in the middle of this road in the jungle.

I know I was really looking forward to seeing Coban but after getting there I wasn’t sure why. It seemed so different from what I remembered. The streets seemed cluttered with signs, power lines, and grime. McDonalds and a megamall had moved in and it seemed like the old charm was buried a little deeper. I did manage to get out and see some sites around town and after a couple of days the town started to grow on me. Lanquin caves were dark, damp, slimy, and musty (go figger) but Semuc Champey was really cool.

Semuc Champey is a natural area in the cloud forest with the major attraction being the point where a small stream is tributary to a larger river. The stream fills a number of amazing pools in the limestone. It’s green, clean, cool, and refreshing. After a hot and humid climb to the mirador that overlooks the river valley, a dip in the pools was perfect. Barely upstream of the pools the larger river dives into a cave. The water was violent and I thought it was like the world’s largest toilet. A human body would be a very small turd and flushed very easily. The pools are directly above the underground river. The river joins the stream downstream of the pools in about 500 meters and below a small waterfall.

When leaving Coban I drove right through the town of Tactic to get to Biotopo de Quetzal. I didn’t see a Quetzal but I had a great time looking for one. From the Biotopo I tried to make it to Antigua but only got as far as Guatemala City. It could have been interesting but I managed to find the ‘Shithole Hotel’ with good parking. When I went out for dinner I learned the hotel was sandwiched between a street filled with hookers and another street that is used as a public toilet. It was as bad as anything I can recall seeing in India. Dinner was good though. McDonalds provided breakfast and after surviving the night I headed to Antigua.

Antigua is great. I love this town. It is full of amazing restaurants, cafes, and bars. I tried to hit a different spot every night. Most places had amazing courtyards hidden in the back complete with arches, fountains, and gardens. The cities architecture is preserved in the colonial era and is really beautiful. There must be a lot of building restrictions to maintain its historical feel. Once again, I only planned to stay and study Spanish for a week but I made it two. I dropped in on some live music at different places with the highlight being when I identified the song ‘Barcelona Nights’ by Ottmar Liebert to the musician. He was quite impressed that I knew it and proceeded with a number of awesome flamenco tunes on his guitar. Most nights were spent on my own but there were a couple of nights out with my classmates Julie and Gloria and their friend Ziggy. Gloria and Julie are both from the UK and Ziggy is a German fella that spoke as much English as I did German. Amazingly Dean and Jeremiah (my cousins husband and son) spotted me in the Central Park and we spent the afternoon together wondering through the market.

On the final weekend of my stay in Antigua and there was a Christian religious celebration… (help me out here Leslie)… where it was the 40 days leading up to Easter. I’ll have to do some reading but I think the thing is that Jesus was crucified on, or about, this time and was resurrected 40 days later on Easter????

Beginning in a small puebla about 2km outside of Antigua, there was a march down the streets lead by kids in Roman soldier costumes, followed by Christians and all there burning/smoking things, people carrying huge platforms with a religious event (good vs. evil) symbolized in paper-mache and flowers. This was followed by bands, smaller platforms (Mary or Jesus, or some other saint, or some symbol), and then finally the general population. Of course there were vendors selling everything from sodas to rattling Christians on a stick (I think they were filled with candy). The road on the parade route was decorated with colorful sawdust, flowers, fruit, and plants. There was a lot of dedication, time and money spent on these beautiful arrangements to have them finally walked on by the parade procession. I caught the parade first thing in the morning and I understood that it just grew in size as they spent the entire day marching through the streets ending up at the church in Antigua. It was very interesting to watch and I can only imagine how grand the procession would be on the Easter weekend.

After 2 weeks I got all I could handle with my Spanish lessons and I left town for Monterrico on the Pacific coast. When I was almost there the temperature gauge on my van started bouncing between the top and bottom of scale. After pulling out the books and doing some troubleshooting that left me with burns from my knuckles to my forearm I decided I had an electrical problem with the sensor. The electric radiator fans (separate sensor) seemed to be operating correctly and my overflow bottle was at normal levels. I limped into town and camped in the back of a hotels garden area and spent the next couple of days fooling with the van. I found some exposed wiring (the hard way… arcs and sparks) and cleaned that up but I think the arc caused some other damage as the gauge is on bottom.

The beach in Monterrico was insanely hot. The sand was black and I couldn’t walk on it without flip flops. The surf was angry and I didn’t dare go in above my knees. I watched a few people go in and wondered if they were going to come back to shore with their clothes torn from their bodies. Everyone came out of the water on all 4’s or on their asses. Other than working on the van I walked the beach, took a tour through the mangroves in a small boat, and enjoyed the hotels swimming pool. Two days later I left for the VW shop in Guatemala City for a service and a sensor.

By accident, I found the VW service shop easily. It was nearly the end of the day and they wanted to work on the van the next day once it was cooled down. Since they couldn’t recommend a hotel in the area they let me camp in the van in their parking lot. After meeting the guard dogs and bribing them with dog cookies and half of my dinner we got along just fine. Unfortunately that was the only highlight of this venture as $400.00 later I got a major service, new front brake pads and damage to the body of my van that affects closing the side door. The wieners used the bottom edge of the body panel to lift the van on the hoist which caused the bottom door runner to bow. I am pissed off and hanging out into next week while there auto body dude tries to fix it up. I would use serious profanity here but I know my nieces may be reading this.

Anyhow, another week behind schedule but I hope to cross into El Salvador early next week… Until then ‘Go Canada Go!’ Hockey gold or bust!

Yucatan to Guatamala via Belize

The weather was still quite cool, wet, and windy when I arrived in Cancun. I hung out for a couple of days and managed to stay out of trouble.  After leaving Cancun I headed down the coast towards Playa Del Carmen and over to Cozumel. I took the van over to Cozumel as the ferry was quite cheap and it worked out to be cheaper than storing the van and taking taxi’s everywhere. The weather was still quite crappy and because of this I didn’t go diving. The majority of the time was spent catching some sun around the pool and beach, excursions to town, and drives around the island. The drive around the island was in the pouring rain and wind and I was glad not to be one of the ‘die hard’ tourists I saw on the little scooters. Returning to the mainland I headed to Chetumal and found a nice camp spot on the bay to relax before heading into Belize.

Crossing into Belize was painless and I was very fortunate to find a perfect camp spot on the river in Orange Walk. From camp you could see crocodiles and a ton of different birds. There was a restaurant nearby and they provided a shower and washrooms. Boats left from the restaurant every morning up the New River and through the mangrove and jungle to the Mayan ruins of Lamanai. On the boat trip I saw spider monkeys, crocodiles, iguanas, and lots of birds. The vegetation along the river was lush and filled with color. The ruins are only partially uncovered and the excavations exposed various structures under a blanket of jungle vegetation. Although it’s not a huge complex like Chichen Itza it was very interesting to see it hidden within the jungle and kind of adventurous arriving by boat via a jungle river.

After a couple of days at Orange Walk I drove onto the Crooked Tree Wildlife Sanctuary. I was able to camp was set up at the Crooked Tree Resort in a private area by the lake front. Here it wasn’t the mosquitoes that created the grief but rather the red ants. They moved in on the second day and any exposed skin below the knees became a meal for the little buggers. Pants and shoes became a requirement. I have learned since then that the simplest thing to do is move the kitchen about 10 feet once they arrive. There was a couple willing to share the expenses of a boat and guide and we spent one morning cruising around the lake bird watching. The weather held out and we managed to see a lot of birds and the wake of a manatee very close to the boat. The afternoon and the next morning were spent walking around with the binoculars as there wasn’t much else to do. It was quite pretty and a very relaxing time. When leaving camp I managed to get the van stuck but was easily pulled out by the Resort manager.

Again, the crappy weather combined with a bit of a cold prevented me from diving on Ambergis Caye. After hanging out for a couple of days I returned to the mainland and after a failed attempt to get to Pernell and Karen’s place I drove from Corozol to San Ignacio on the Guatemala border in one easy day. In camp I met up with Michel and Alex from Belgium. They are travelling to Costa Rica in their Land Rover. We went to town, shared a few meals, and crossed the Guatemala border together. Again, the border crossing was easy and we arrived in the Yaxha National Park by mid day.

I am in Antigua Guatamala studying Spanish again.  I plan to stay for another week before heading to El Salvador.

The mad dash south...

In case you don’t remember (or I never told you)… the plan was to store the bike in Baja because you don’t need a ‘Temporary Importation Permit’ there. These permits are issued in La Paz (on the southern tip of Baja) where you cross to the mainland. I learned (the hard way) that they issue permits in La Paz but you have to cancel or transfer it to another vehicle at the USA, Belize, or Guatemala border and not at La Paz.

So what happened at Aduana… My mistake was thinking 1 of the 2 scenarios would work for me… 1) I could get a permit for my bike and my van while travelling in Mexico, or 2) I could transfer the permit from the bike to the van, or otherwise cancel the bike permit and get a new one for the van in La Paz. I went to the Aduana counter to get the paper work done and was quickly informed that I had 2 options… 1) Return to the USA border or 2) get the second permit in my wife’s name. She was very cute and spoke pretty good English so I proposed marriage to her on the spot and promised to register the BMW in her name. She blushed, but I couldn’t believe it when she said no!  Heart broken, I left there to retrieve my van from storage and bounced the situation off the manager of the storage lot.  He had a solution too… We could hire some Mexican ‘friends’ of his to grease the palms of the officials and they could smuggle the bike into the states for me. In affect, I would pay some banditos to steal my bike for me. I thought really hard for 2.874 seconds and declined the offer. I then hopped in the van and with the bike in tow made a mad dash back to San Diego. The ironic thing was that the office for cancelling the permit was in downtown Tijuana and not even at the border. I learned this after sitting in line at the border for 2.5 hours only to come back to Mexico (1.5 hrs at the border), find the Aduana office (4.5 hrs), change the permit (15 minutes), re-enter the USA (2.0 hrs). I quickly found a storage facility near the airport and arranged to put things in storage for the next morning. I grabbed a quick bite to eat, organized my gear, and slept in the van in the street just outside of the storage facility. Lying there I was reminded that it was my 4th long day on the road without a shower.   I had to catch a flight the next morning to catch up with Selena who was already waiting for me in Puerto Vallarta. I learned something very important at the San Diego airport… The ‘family washrooms’ have facilities to wash poopy babies. Yahoo! I bought a bottle of lavender body wash from the perfume outlet store, went into the family washroom, locked the doors, stripped naked, and had a ‘shower’ in time to get on the plane fresh and smelling good. The only bad part was trying to dry with paper towels and a hand blower.

I arrived in Puerto Vallarta a few days later than planned and without wheels. Selena and I had a nice time together. We visited a few small towns down the coast, did some hikes, enjoyed the swimming pools and the beaches, and generally just hung-out together. Ten days later Selena returned home and I returned to San Diego to pick up the van.

Returning to San Diego, I picked up the van and set out to reclaim the distance I lost by having to return to San Diego. I travelled down the mainland mostly on the expensive toll highways. I stopped only to sleep and eat until I got as far as Jalisco where I felt a bit caught up. This part of the trip was quite uneventful and this was exemplified by the New Year’s celebration. I had hoped to get as far as Mazatlan to celebrate but I found myself a day late and in Culican. It’s a big city so I ‘googled’ night clubs that may be hosting a New Year’s party. I didn’t find anything specific and the front desk couldn’t make any recommendations. I short listed to 4 clubs and had the front desk call to see if I needed advanced tickets or not. Of course no one answered the phones so I just grabbed a taxi and headed out. It was nearly 11:00 and every club I went to was either closed or void of life. I finally found a place that at least had a big screen TV with sports. I went in and the football game was over 10 minutes later. Everyone left and the bar was shutting down around me. The owner listened to my complaint and bought me a beer. It was obvious nothing was happening so I asked him to call me a cab that didn’t show up. He was trying to get home to his girlfriend so he offered me a lift back to the hotel. Feeling sorry for myself I was in my room before midnight. I fired up the computer to send out some mid-night greetings but my PC died. That was the final straw… I went to bed and decided to make a direct shot for Mexico City.

Two days later I arrived in Mexico City hoping to meet up with Pilar and see the sites. Unfortunately, due to my short notice we weren’t able to meet up. The weather was getting really crappy and I decided to continue on. I felt it may be best to visit Mexico City on my return trip.

The next day I stopped at Puebla and visited some of the sites there. I found a nice spot by a city park where I decided to camp for the night. By midnight the police had checked me out 3 separate times. The first time it was a truck with at least 3 policemen with full combat gear. And the next couple of times they came out of the trees on foot. It spooked me at first and made me question my readiness should it have been unsavory dudes instead of the police. The next morning I was awaken by voices outside of the van. At first I just laid there until I could hear quite a few voices. I got dressed and opened the blinds to find about 30 guys milling around. The parking lot I had chosen was the site of their early morning soccer game and I was camping at mid-field. They were too polite to knock on my door and they were waiting for me to get up and move my van. I moved it to the end of the parking lot and the game was on!!

From there I travelled to Villahermosa and tried to link up with a friend I had worked with years ago. Luis was my interpreter and technical writer with Energia Mayakan and I have lost his contact information a few years ago. He lived in Comacalco on the Gulf of Mexico. I went to his town hoping to find him. Everything looked so different and I couldn’t find the street that he lived on. I moved on from there to the Yucatan coast.

My next blog will be about the drive down the Yucatan, through Belize, and into Guatemala where I am now. Presently I am in the Yaxha National Park overlooking Logo de Mancanche and listening to the howler monkeys in the jungle. I think I’ll go see if I can find them.

Ok, let’s go back in time about a month ago….

I rode with the ‘Gladiadores’ from Guadalajara to Puerto Vallarta on the free highway. It was a pretty trip and we rode it without incident (which is more than I can say about the minor incident the weekend before). We all stayed in a discount hotel in downtown Puerto Vallarta for the weekend and then I added a couple of days for myself to kick back a little. We spent some time at the beach, some time at the rally, and finally ended up on the Puerto Vallarta malecon by midnight. There was a live ‘wanna-be’ Marilyn Manson band playing at the moto rally that was almost saved by the girls tattoo contest; but not quite. It’s amazing where girls put tattoos these days! Again, where’s my damn camera? Tibieron (a cool hermano del Gladeadores) won the men’s tattoo contest primarily due to the size of his fan club. I am glad to say his tattoo was on his arm. Later that night we parked our bikes along the side walk on the malecon and made it our own space. Hectors trike had a stereo competing with the music from the adjacent night clubs and the traffic. Some of the guys really surprised me with their ability to dance. They pulled in a number of girls off the street and swung them to the Salsa and the Curumba??? Of course I was supposed to do the same but I had a sudden sense of incompetence. Tibieron would say to me ‘C’mon, do your job!’ I managed to stumble through a couple of dances. One Latino lady was absolutely amazing. I think she could have been on ‘Dancing with the Stars’. Angelo turns and says to me ‘She’s not counting!’ It was really funny! She finished her dance, gave a few hugs and kisses, and off she went. I ended the night with some tacos from a street stall just outside of the hotel at 3:00 in the morning. The Gladeadores all rode back to Guadalajara that Sunday and I rode solo from there.

I rode down the coast from Puerto Vallarta to Manzanillo stopping at a number of gorgeous beaches and small towns including Tenacatita, La Manzanilla, and Barra de Navidad. La Manzanilla was my favorite spot on this leg of the trip with its quite beach and awesome sea food. The road was pretty clear of traffic with easy curves and good pavement. The tierra varied from lush vegetation to scrub dessert. All of the spots I stopped at were very laid back and almost void of any tourists. This was good and bad as there weren’t many people to support the local economy but then I could practice my Taekwondo without attracting too much attention.

From Manzanillo I turned inland to Lago Chapala via Colima and then on to Morelia. The landscape changed quickly from lush to salt flats and finally pine forest around the lake area. From Chapala I rode through the mountains and stopped at a very traditional town called Mazamitla. It reminded me of the towns I visited years ago in Nepal. The city of Morelia is defiantly worth a visit. The city is much smaller than Guadalajara but the architecture and sites were equally impressive in my opinion. I thought the selection of restaurants and bars were better situated and more plentiful within the historical areas than in Guadalajara. All the best sites to see were within walking distance of my hotel and it didn’t take long to find some small clubs playing good live music on the first night and a rockin nightclub the next night. Where the hell was Sjoerd!

From Morelia I headed back to Mazatlan via Tequila. Tequila is a neat town once you get off the highway. There was a Christmas parade and free tequila samples in every store. From there I rode back to Mazatlan to catch the ferry to La Paz where I planned to pick up the van and return with it to Puerto Vallarta. When I returned to La Paz my nightmare from hell started with Aduana (Mexican customs). This !#%^&*&% situation forced me to return all the way to San Diego with the van and motorcycle before I could begin travelling on the Mexico mainland with the van. It ended up costing me about 4,000 km of extra driving, un dolor en la nache (a pain in the ass), and a few pesos too! And the worst thing is it cut into my blog update time… I had to remind myself that the journey is the important thing as every day has a new destination. More on this story in my next update.

By the way, I am near Mexico City now and hope to make it Coatzacoalcos on the Golfo De Mexico to see if I can find an old friend of mine that I worked with a few years back. From there I will head down the Yucatan coast and into Belize. I am healthy and doing just fine in case you were starting to wonder.