More Costa Rica

Today's entry is being written from a small beach along the Pacific coast of Costa Rica. I'm not sure about the name of the town, but there's quite a number of little motels and backpacker spots dotted along the coast road.




The sun is coming up to my left, burning the mist off the tops of the rain forest covering the spit of land jutting into the ocean.

Getting to this beach was just a short walk from the Cabinas las Bambu we stayed in last night.


The cabins are smack in the middle of the forest (thank goodness for my mossy tent). About 2 minutes of strolling the path cut through the dense undergrowth, and you'll reach a wide road cleared beneath a stand of coconut trees that stretches 3 kms north to south. Just beyond the far edge of the palm trees lies the long, sandy beach.

In the time it's taken me to write this, two groups of morning jobbers have started their morning runs up the beach. I can still see the first lady, Yvonne and her dog. They've almost reached the far northern end if he beach. The second group of runners, are about 2 minutes behind them.

The cabins we are staying in are run by Yvonne and her father. Mom and Dad ran the place for 23 years, and Yvonne just came back 3 years ago after spending more than a decade in Orlando, Florida.

There are no clouds directly above the beach, or the shoreline, as far as I can see. The sky is bright, and clear. A few miles out to sea, there seems to be a rather thick bank of clouds building, and slowly darkening.

I hope to get on the road, and into Panama before midday today. Hopefully that timing will keep us ahead of the rains as well...

Yesterday we really took our time coming up the road. Initially, the plan was to reach the CR-PA border that day -- a long, but seemingly doable 350 kms. With a late start, lots of traffic, a newly instilled fear of speeding tickets, and just so much lovely scenery along the way ... Well, we just decided to take as much time as needed.

We stopped at a supermarket for lunch and were told by an older man that we were about to face certain doom in Columbia. Cory said we keep hearing that about the "next" country along the trip. Which was apparently not the right answer for this guy. He accused Cory of considering himself invincible, and being foolhardy for not taking his advice. Funny thing is, he didn't actually give us any advice.

The next stop was far more nourishing for the soul. We stopped at the Savegre River, as it crossed under the highway on it's way to the sea.

The river was strong, cold and refreshing.


A half-hour later, our wonderful river lime concluded, we remounted and headed south.

My hostility towards this expensive country is beginning to wane...

Next stop - Panama!

Day 92 - Entering Costa Rica

What a moral dilemma today!

We rode to the Nicaragua-Costa Rica border on what is perhaps their busiest day of the year for crossings. There were perhaps 2 dozen tour buses parked at the Immigration offices when we pulled up to the border. The result was 3 massive lines slowing snaking into one small building.

Later we were told that the massive lines were due to many Nicaraguans returning back to work in CR after spending the holiays back home with family.

Thankfully, the folks processing the paperwork to get us out of Nicaragua were quite efficient, and we were able to complete the first half of of the border crossing in about an hour.

We paid a guy $10 to get us through the process, and it was a good thing. We handed him our passports and bike documents, and he went off with Cory in tow to get the papers processed. Thirty minutes later Cory shows up, and each of us now have a new document with 6 different signatures scrawled across it. Cory says each of the 6 signers was standing in a more-or-less random location around the parking lot, and our fixer had to consult with other fixers to even find them. We could not have done this one on our own.

The second part, getting into Costa Rica, now that was some madness! As we pulled up to that border, we saw literally thousands of people waiting in a line that snaked around and around a small parking area -- like so many snakes writhing and twisting in a pit…

We ran into two very frazzled looking Swedish moto travelers who were just on the tail end of getting their paperwork completed to enter CR. They told us they had stood in line for SEVEN HOURS to get their immigration document stamped.

This was a job for the Fixer.

Normally, I have no problem paying these guys to make a small problem go away. Today though, seeing those many thousands of people standing in the hot sun, who our few US Dollars would allow us to bypass, almost as it they weren't even there…

The right thing to do would have been to just just join the end of the line, no?

We, however, paid the fixers, who shared the money with some Immigration officials, guards and local police officers -- all of whom worked their magic to get us through in less than 2 hours.

Why do I feel so shameful?

--- 

Earlier in the day we rode past another windmill farm -- this time in southern Nicaragua. I'd say about 30 gleaming white windmills, all going full-tilt. I am being constantly surprised as to the extent of wind-generation capacity here in the developing world.

That's a good trend, no?

Day 90 - New Years Eve in Granada, NI

Today's ride was a wonderful one. We stopped in the town of Sumoto, NI looking for gas, an ATM and lunch. We had to stop and ask 5 sets of people to get the directions to the ATM.

It's funny, but I so rarely get people saying "I'm no sure" when asked for directions. They all want to point in the same general direction, but so often they just simply don't know, exactly.

It's not particular to this trip, or these countries of course. I've found this in almost everyplace I have ever visited.

We rode a long day though some nice countryside to reach the town of Granada. We stopped about 4 PM to don our rain gear in preparation for the thunderheads we could see building to the South.

Nicaragua

We did not want to stay in the capital city of Managua, but instead were loking for the old colnial city of Granada, which sits on the shores of Lago Nicaragua.

The rain started, not 15 minutes after we donned our gear, but then let up after about 20 minutes of further riding. Not bad.

Another hour of riding and we finally saw the signs for Granada. Less than 2 kms to the city centre however, where all the hotels and hostels are, the rain came back. With a vengenace.

Within a minute of starting, it was coming down in torrential sheets. Thank goodness for my First Gear Kilimanjaro jack, Frogg Toggs pants and H-D rain gaiters.

We're safely lodegd in the Case de Alto hotel. Very large clean rooms, with AC, hot water, secure covered parking and, a strong free wifi signal. All for (980 Cordobas - $45 US) per night.

----

After a bit of freshening up we hit the town looking for a New Years' Party to crash. We dined at an over-priced hotel with horrid, almost unidentifiable food, accompanied by some crazy karaoke.

We ended the night at a popular salsa joint, and I wish I could say I was throwing down the new "New York on 2" steps I learned back in Antigua ...

Day 89 - Leaving Honduras

One of the constant concerns on this trip is how will we fare at the border crossing. Even if we spoke perfect Spanish, the processes and procedures at the borders a would still be confounding.

Dealing with El Salvador was nice and simple. Once you actually get to the offices of their Customs and Immigration people, they have signs posted in Spanish and English, letting you know you there are no more fees to be paid to anyone to get into the country.

It's all waiting for paperwork after that, and dealing with the multiple photocopies that every inpector or agent seems to require.

Getting into Honduras seemed a little challenging. In our group of 4 bikers, I elected to stay outside with the bikes at the start of this particular crossing.

I'm still not clear on what actually happened (that whole 3 sides to every story thing..) but it seems our guys felt the Hondurans were trying a extra special scam where some officials were directing us to pay some agents in one office, who then funnel the work to other Customs officals sitting in yet a third office.

I'm not entirely sure who said what to whom, but it was quite clear by the time I came inside to get my paperwork started, that the tensions were through the roof. It looked like our guys were right on the verge of pounding someone. Not good.

All I can actually report though, is that when I came into the office, I was dealing with a small chubby, almost entirely useless fellow, who just keep looking at my 8 photocoipes and commenting on the bad quality. Well duh -- they're from a beat up old machine in the office next door, a machine which probably has not made a decently recognizable copy of anything in last five years..

As I was standing there, Tim came in with the video camera to get the female officer to speak into for a 'translation'. Her instructions were quite simple and plain. She needed to process our paperwork, and we were required to pay in their local currency. If we couldn't exchange the US Dollars we had on our own, we would have to wait for the bank to open in the morning.

From that moment on, everything seemed just fine. I sat at her desk and she processed all my paperwork, and entered the data into the computer in 20 minutes. We cracked jokes, shared smiles, compared the traditional Christmas music of our respective culture's, took photos, and she even shared some of the grapes she was snacking on.

Here's Tim's far more detailed account of the process, including bits I didn't witness..

Honduran Border Official

We left there in the pitch blackness, but according to the reccommendations, the next decent hotel was 32 kms away. No choice but to ride again at night…

Hotel Vista Hermosa in Nacahome Valle is a big luxry hotel with a lovely pool in the inner courtyard, and a large restaurant with just about the slowest service imaginable. Over priced for our standards, but with no other real options the $60 US room rate was the best we'd get.

Happy New Year!

Looking forward to big things this year!

The picture was taken a few days ago at a backpackers hostel in San Blas, El Salvador.
We'll be ringing in 2011 tonight in Granada, Nicaragua.

Have a safe and Happy New Years' Eve celebrations.

Cheers All!
Love,
Darren

Bye, bye, Guatemala

Day 79

Antigua is a old city dating from the early days of Spanish colonialism in the area. The entire city is paved with cobbled stones, and many of the buildings date from the 17th century.

There are so many things to see here, and the locals are doing a wonderful job in creating, what seems to be, a sustainable tourism industry. Perhaps the best example of this are the Spanish classes. In this one small town, of perhaps 10,000 people, there are 46 Escuela Español. That's right, there are more Spanish schools here than there are streets named 'Peachtree' in Atlanta. Go ahead and count 'em. I'll wait.

Each school employs local teachers trained in Spanish-as-a-second language. They work one-on-one with students for up to 8 hours per day, often for months on end. Some of the schools are basic Mom and Pop operations, while others have affiliations and accreditations with universities from Canada, the US and Europe.

I signed up for 5 days of instruction, 4 hours a day for $145

Room and board with a local family (with Rebecca safely parked at the school) ran another $80

The instructions are tailored for specific students. Mine was geared to be

Day 80
Delayed the start of my Spanish instructions until this afternoon so I would have time to make a quick run to Guatemala City to visit a Kawasaki dealership for new rear brakes, a flush of both brake lines, a cleaning and re-lubing of the chain, and a full oil change - including a new filter.

GT City is a large, modern city with excellent roads, but suffers, as with the rest of the country, from abysmal pollution. It's aonly a 45 minute run there from Antigua, and you get to traverse some lovely mountain passes along the way.

As for the service - for Q 777, I'm not sure I got full momey's worth. I don't think they flushed the brake lines, as there is no indication with of the brake fluid reservoirs have been even touched.



Day 82

Volcan Pacuya

I went with Dave from Moto-Riders

Met with Aldous and Simon, a couple of Canadian riders going to Panama and Argentina, respectively. Simon is racing to travel on Fitz the Cat in 6 days time out of Panama City, so we shall have to part ways here. I'm in a bit of a rush now - but don't want to miss THAT much of the countryside.



Day 83
Either I've been eating too much volcanic trail dust or simply wearing out my body from traveling too long, but I'm really sick. Fever. Chills. Sweats. Lack of appetite. Weakness.

All the things you want to feel at Christmas time…




Day 84 - Christmas Eve

I manage to sleep almost the entire daylight hours away. I awake just in time to catch the chicken bus to Jocotenango to have dinner with Terersita, Salvador, Tricia, Joanne and their family. Bonus - because I miss the stop (and really, how do you miss the giant salmon-coloured cathedral in the town's main square?!) I am left off in front of a bakery. Q25 for a lovely looking desert cake, and I feel a little better walking into their home without my 2 hands swinging. [LINK to picture of Charles]

[Chicken bus]

[Christmas dinner -- whole pig]

The firecrackers in Antigua are easily the most intense I have witnessed in my life. All week long people have been randomly letting off small ireworks ('boombas') and strings of about 50 firecrackers in the streets.

This went on night and day, for the entire week before Christmas.

At the stroke of midnight to bring in Christmas Day, the sound …

The intensity of the pyrotechnics let off in this one small town, high in the hills of Guatemala, made anyone hearing it for the first time, no matter how well prepped for the event == it made one assume the town was under attack.

Either a foreign Air Force was delivering a direct hit, or Volcan Pacaya was raining down ash and rocks on Antigua.

Without a word of exageration, this is what it felt like.

Day 86

Headed to El Salvador

My fever finally broke last night and as I lay there listening to the last of the firecrackers y boombas rattling through the dessrted streets, I resolved that come the morning, I would finally have to leave Antigua to continue my healing.

For the first time in 4 days, I woke bright and early, packed my gear and headed off to class.

Mi profresora, Veronica, had managed to find us some "Parts of a motorcycle" diagrams in Spanish to use for the final days' exercises.

Brilliant! This woman has helped me immeasurably.

After class I packed up, and said my goodbyes then set off to reach the sunny shores and warmer lower elevations of El Salvador.

Literally as I left the cobbled streets of Antigua for the last time, I saw just a few metres ahead of me the unmistakeable shape of a fully loaded KLR on the road to Cuiad Guatemala.

It's funny how you can be so trusting on the road. We meet completely strangers, exchange shouts of intended destinations over the roar of traffic and we're instantly bonded.

This new crew, of Troy (KLR), Cory (GS 800) and Tim (GS 1200) are an awesome bunch of guys. We're hoteling together tonight just shy of the El Salvador border. A wonderful roast chicken dinner for 3 (Tim's got a special diet) with drinks all the way round for only Q160.

For me, the scariest parts of going on adventures is "How am I going to handle the pressure?"

There's always pressure about something or other, and out on the road for extended periods of time, we tend to run into them in seemingly never-ending series.

Tonight's drama was my commitmment to be "Ride my own ride".

I am forever trying to be a perfectionist, particularly at things I'm not terribly good at [DID YOU USE THIS IN ATLANTA???!!!!!]

This new crew of riders, all being far more exprienced and prepared than I, brought out the fears of "Am I doing this right?"

Ha.

Except not so funny.

In every single adventure I've ever heard of, things go wrong. Par for the course, right. So mine is no different in that respect. Watching and hearing some of the tactics of those who've been doing it longer and more successfully than I, sort of naturally brought me to a place of "Man.. who am I kidding here…"

Thankfully, those feelings passed. And hopefully some of the hard won lessons theses fellow have picked up out here on the road will mesh into my own routines and make the rest of the journey, just a little bit better.

That is the hope.




Day 87

Abother travel day day… Another 5 hours waiting at border crossing AFTER paying a helper and bribing an official…

But then 20 kms of super twisty cliff roads before finding $5-a-night beach front rooms to sleep in…

Escuela Española en Antigua

Hills above Antigua

Somewhere along the way, between the conception of this trip, and the eventual start back on October 3, someone suggested I consider learning to speak Spanish. Wonderful idea, even given my inability to pickup ANY new languages in my life.

After a little research, we discovered that the old colonial town of Antigua, Guatemala is one of the world's largest centres for Spanish language training.

And, like most of the plans that have ever crossed my feeble mind, it passed out of the memory of man, like a certain long lost ring.

So, to make a long story short .. (I know.. too late, eh!) .. when I landed in Antigua the other day, after following a tip from a guy I met at the border, the decision to learn a least pequeño Español resurfaced.

Rebecca stays at school

My view while walking to school

I'm signed up for 5 days of classes, 4 hours per day with Centro Linguistico Maya, and moved out of the hotel to stay with a local family.

My homestay

(For those concerned, I'm being fed three solid squares a day. Nice.)

Mi profesora on the roof of the school

More to come. Send all the positive vibes, and "Lord, please help this boy learn" prayers you can ....

Look closely ... Volcan Fuego is active today!

I feel kind of badly that I haven't given as much space in this blog to Rebecca. Yesterday we rode down to Guatemala City to get some work done.

I must say that the roads in Guatemala are top-notch -- especially in their capital city. The signage is excellent, even for an Inglesi-phile like myself. The only problem is the outrageously out-of-control pollution spewing from the tailpipes of the vehicles here. I think I'll do a separate post on the chicken buses..

Back to 'becca..

While I waited in the ultra-posh digs of the Volvo/Kawasaki/Renault/You-Name-The-Chines-Brand-They-Got-It dealership surfing the Net and playing video games, they changed the rear brake, flushed both brake lines, and did a full oil change, including a new filter. Total bill -- $777.45 Quetzales (CAN $99.30)


Update: I don't think they actually flushed the brakes lines. To do so, they would have had to open both brake fluid reservoirs, right? And to do that, you'd HAVE to at least brush them off before opening them up, right? Given the state 'becca's in -- ANY bit of cleaning up would just stand out.

Sadly, it looks like this got missed -- at least on the front brakes.

Man, I hope that was just an honest mistake. The folks there didn't seem to be crooked, or nickel-and-dimers in the least. I hope my Spidey senses are still working. I didn't feel a tingle...