Day 97 - Panama City

On Friday we rode into Panama in the drizzling rain, trying to beat the clock to reach Tocumen Aeropeurto. We had received a phone call from Kyöstis, the Dane telling us about a great deal he had just negotiated to send their two bikes via air cargo to Colombia. The only hitch was we needed to reach the cargo terminal that same afternoon. It was only an 80 km drive, so possibly doable in the 75 minutes we had available.

Since we knew that to fly the bikes out we would have to empty their gas tanks of fuel, we were trying to arrive at the airport with the fuel gauges on 'E'.

Among the four of us, Troy was best at this as his he had to switch to his reserve tank just as we were coming into Panama City across into  the big bridge over the Panama Canal. Between the gas issues, the rain and the early rush hour traffic of a Friday before a long-weekend, we paid barely any attention to the Canal as we rode on past.

Once we got to the Girag Cargo offices at the cargo terminal, we found the Danes had packed their bikes and were strapping them to a cargo pallet. No tanks needed to be drained, the batteries remain connected and all the panniers and wheels remained in place. Only windshields and side mirrors were removed.

So all that running-on-fumes drama was for nothing.

The Girag folks were extremely helpful in the process of getting the bikes ready for export, and I would highly recommend their services. We paid $751.38 per bike to be shipped from Panama City to Bogota, Colombia.

We'll report on Tuesday if the bikes made the trip safely.





The sad part of the day came as we said our goodbyes to Cory Hanson. He's decided to turn around and head back up to Canada instead of continuing down to Argentina with Tim and Troy.

Saying goodbye at the cargo terminal

Since we are four tough, hardcore motorcycle-riding, world-traveling adventure type dudes, no tears were shed during our brief, but manly goodbye hugs..

As part of the deal, they agreed to let us stay for FREE for one night at a new Eco Lodge the company is building. They plan to offer it to the many bikers they see coming through the area.

The Girag Cargo Riverside Eco Lodge

While the site is gorgeous, and the river it runs beside seems clean and clear, the place is very far away. It was about an hour's drive East of the airport. The building looks very well designed and constructed, but right now it's still unfinished. It's got lots of potential, but I'm not sure I'd stay there again before it's actually completed.

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Troy finally found a way to stay warm

It's very weird the go to sleep without knowing 'becca is close by...

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Normally the bikes would arrive and be cleared through Customs the very next day, but on this weekend, Sunday is Martyr's Day, a National Holiday in both Panama and Colombia. And the government agencies are closed on Monday to commemorate it.

Martyr's Day on Jan 9 commemorates the day in 1964 when 22 students were killed by while attempting to assert/reclaim their country's sovereignty by flying the Panamanian flag in the Canal Zone. The Zone was wholly under the control of the Americans at that point. Here's one account of the tragedy



Day 98

Hello again!

We head downtown and ask the taxi driver to take us to one of the hostels. There are 22 in the city, and we had done no research on them at all, and so had no opinion on which would be best.
The taxi drivers decided to drop us at Luna's Castle.
As we walk in, we see a very familiar BMW F800GS parked in the lobby.

Cory is here! Now how cool is that?!

The rest of the the day was mostly concerned with futile attempts to find rear tires for mine and Troy's KLRs.






Day 99
We finally got to take a proper tour of the Panama Canal! Very spectacular!
They advertise that the big ships only pass through the Canal between 9 and 11 AM, and 3 - 5 PM

Rebecca, Tim, M, Sharon, Nicole and Troy (doing his patented 3/4 turn) at the Miraflores Locks

We arrived at 4 PM, then watched a short film on the building of the Canal. There's a disconnect in some of the info given in the documentary and printed on the displays in the on-site museum. Both sources agree that as many as 20,000 of the 75,000 workers who built the Canal were Black men from the Caribbean. The discrepancy is whether they came from Jamaica or Barbados.

Perhaps one of my readers knows definitively...

Day 96 - Almost to Panama City

Dateline: 80 kms from Panama City

The riding today was fairly easy. The traffic on the roads was light and fast. The highway passed through mostly lowland plains, where we saw acres upon acres of sugar cane and maize being cultivated.

Coming home from a river lime

The roads in Panama are in excellent condition, and so far we've been fortunate to avoid any delays at the many random police checkpoints we cross each day.

I'm happy to report a significant presence of dark-skinned people here. My Granny Rhoda was born in Panama, just after the opening of the canal. Her father, along with thousands of other Caribbean men came to build the canal from 1904 to 1914.

We're staying at a motel (Hotel Canadian) run by Canadians (they're everywhere!) just off the Pan-American highway. They took us to their favourite Thursday night lime at a restaurant/bar called La Ruina.

We were given a short history of the place which is lined with great old historical photos of the area before the damming of the river to help create the Panama Canal.

As a nice treat, I ordered off the menu and asked for the same plate the owners' son was eating quietly by himself at the bar. A nice dish of white rice, stewed chicken and stewed lentil peas. It looked, and tasted exactly as if it came off my own Mother's stove.

I must be getting real close to Trinidad.

Uhhh.. that's not right!

I had a slow speed dump of the bike while trying to bring it into the hotel compound. The guys are still laughing at the video. I'll post a link to it once it's uploaded.

Sadly, I warped the left side rack, so we'll have to unmanagle it using a vise before I can get the panniers back on.

Crossing the Gap

The southern portion of Panama borders along Colombia. However there is no regular traffic between the two countries along this border. The land is an undeveloped, essentially un-crossable area of dense rainforests and swamp called the Darien Gap.

Years of civil unrest, guerilla warfare and narco-trafficking in northern Colombia have dissuaded the Panamanians from developing any roads through the Gap. Even the great Pan-American highway, stretching from Alaska to the tip of Argentina, takes a 200 km break around the Gap.

So travelers such as myself must either fly or sail around. We had hoped to sail, but the wait for boats is long, and growing. Flying is a faster option to get to Cartegena. But the final decision won't be made until we speak directly with some agents and have firm dates and quotes in hand.

Right now, I'm keeping an eye on costs, and hope to keep them to a minimum. I'm so near the end of the journey, but there are still some significant hurdles along the way...

I need to buy a new rear tire in Panama. I'll need about $1200 to get me and Rebecca around the Gap. And I still have to cross the mountains from Colombia to Venezuela, then traverse that large country and book passage on a ship to Trinidad.

Close, yes. Finished? Not by a long shot.

Still having fun though... :)

Stay tuned :)

Day 96 Bugaba, PA

Getting through the CR-PA border was a 6-hour ordeal yesterday, due in large part to an hours-long power outage if the entire Customs and Immigration centre just before lunch.

We ended up grabbing a hotel about 30 minutes past the border.



Turns out the place is owned by a fellow who does giant installation contracts for the telcos back in Canada. He's the guy Rogers calla when they want to completely wire a new town with new fibre.





The best part of the $43 per night room was access to laundry. My clothes are clean again!!!! You have no idea how happy that makes me -- and the rest of the crew, as well.

Here's the lovely lady, Nilka, responsible for us smelling like humans again.










This morning we leave for Panama City. We'll probably be flying over the Darien Gap and here I'm appealing to you, my Dear Reader, for your support.

I direct your attention to the Donate button in the right-hand side of this page. Anything you can do to help me complete the journey would be most appreciated :)

Location:Panamerican Hwy,La Concepcion,Panama

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?

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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.

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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.