Three months around Europe

SCHOOL’S OUT

I had learned enough Spanish in two weeks to get me into trouble. The time flew by, but I suspect not for my teacher, Byron. He was patient, we sorted out some minor bureaucratic issues with the bike, bought tools, a puncture repair kit and planned a route through Guatemala as he hammered home irregular verbs. How many people can say they were taught Spanish by Byron?

The first weekend break, I took a trial run to Lago Atitlan. The main town , Panajachel, could have been a freshwater Kuta or Phuket with T shirt stalls, travel agencies, fast food outlets and bars. My lakefront hotel cost me $13 a night and a good meal was around $7. I could have got it cheaper, but the owner of the hotel found me and the room was clean, comfortable with wifi, cable tv, hot shower covered parking for the bike - and a 5 minute walk to the main centre.

Meander 5 km outside the town and you are back in a way of life seemingly unchanged for decades. Coffee farms, slash and burn subsistence farms and traditional costumes. I did a circuit off the lake, encountered a variety of roads from billiard table smooth to donkey track special. On this trip I met my first sleeping policeman or tumulos. These are raised humps on the road designed to slow down traffic. Whatever policeman they modelled them on must have had another job as a doughnut taster because hit one at more than 10km or on a slight angle and you could get automatic entry for the X games. They are also often just placed at random with no advance warning signs. I wonder if they injure more people than they are designed to save.

I was glad I was on a light bike. I could cruise along at 60 kph and on the hairpin bend dirt roads change down to first gear and plod around at 10kph. The traffic on both the country roads and autopista was courteous, gave a wide berth when passing and kept their distance when following.

The bike was more comfortable than I expected. The riding position was similar to the V strom if a little lower. You obviously had to work the revs higher, but I managed to keep below 5000rpm and even after two hours straight in the saddle, I felt minimal discomfort. I suspect that if I travel over 70kph for an extended time there will be some impact from vibration , but really my experience to date is that away from the autopista you will struggle to maintain a 40 kph average. My initial fuel consumption is around 45 km/ litre, means if I spend more than $5 a day on fuel I will be pushing it.

My two weeks in Xela underlined the town’s laid back attitude and its charm does sneaks up on you. Everything is handy, the people pleasant , nice bars and places to eat and an active cultural scene to cater for Mayan, European and North American tastes. The climate was a pleasant 12 to 27C at the tail end of the rainy season. The temperature drops considerably in January to hit a chilly single numeral. . I would have been happy to stay longer and some fellow students who had originally come for three weeks were in their seventh or eighth week of study. So that says something about the town and the school.
I went back on my second weekend to San Pedro de Laguna on Lake Atitlan. It has its share of crazy characters including a middle aged American who has the map of the world tattooed on his back and fills in each country he visits. So far he has filled in 20 spaces . I hope he doesn’t plan to visit Russia and Canada in the same week. And then there was the middle aged lady , who ran into the pub I was at, yelled I should have been a boy, stripped off and then ran outside naked. I was told she was a pillar of the community and that was completely out of character. It actually didn’t seem out of character for San Pedro!

I left early on a Sunday morning to head for the famed market at Chichicastenango. It was my first experience of riding through low rain cloud, visibility was poor and it wasn’t quite wet enough to stop and wait it out as I usually do but the damp seemed to find its way right through my clothes and the lack of sun made for a cold, rather miserable ride.

The market was, well a market. A few tourists, plenty of souvenirs for sale but nothing really to spin my wheels. There were some quite interesting characters prancing around on the church steps waving and chanting .

CHICHICASTENANGO TO EL TUNCO

There was a road from Chichi to Coban . The guidebook said it was one of the most scenic roads in Guatemala but warned that it was subject to slips . Local advice said the road was open , but I forgot to ask the question- was it paved.

For the first 150 km , the road lived up to its billing. Smooth, undulating, spectacular scenery , nice bends, little traffic. Then with about 50 km to go it all stopped. the road became a rocky , muddy, potholed, track used almost exclusively by old battered trucks carrying rocks from a quarry to Coban. They had churned up the road surface to a sticky morass. I had three choices: go back, hitch a ride on a truck or the least sensible : keep riding . Of course, I chose the least sensible and for the next 50 km , I bumped, wrestled, cajoled the little suzi . I never got higher than second gear and tried to keep below 5000rpm . I looked ahead, relaxed as much as possible and the little bike on its road tyres just kept going. It took us three hours to do that 50 km and arrived in town mud caked and exhausted, but I got myself and the bike cleaned up for $5 and slept the sleep of just. I do not know whether that road made me a better rider. It certainly made me a sweatier one.

My destination the next day was Semuc Champey. The road started well but degenerated and about halfway to my destination I hit some rocks , fell and broke the clutch lever and the gear shift. I sustained a few bruises and had a nice mud streak up my left side like a skunk’s stripe.

I managed to jam the bike in first gear and rig up a bodge that would allow me to start the bike, let out the clutch and go for it. For the next 14 km I crawled up and down that road, judiciously applying power and gunning it up the rises. I found a workshop in town and fabricated a new clutch lever and gearshift for a cost of $10.

I played tourist the next day visiting caves, jumping off cliffs and bridges, swimming in the river and just relaxing but gnawing in the back of my mind was that I would have to go back on that road tomorrow.

There was constant rain during the day and I could just imagine the state of the road. But I was feeling more confident with my super strong clutch lever and new found dirt riding techniques. I let some air out of the tyres, double tied my pack onto the rack and went for it. That little suzi seemed to take on a new life. She seemed to be enjoying the challenge and I didn’t feel any anxiety. We spun up muddy inclines, zipped through water filled potholes and I almost kissed the tarmac when we eventually reached it.

The next two days I wandered along through the mountains. The last few days and something I had eaten had impacted on me and I felt listless and was contributing over much to the sewerage infrastructure of Central Guatemala. In addition, the low cloud and drizzle were not making for much of a holiday atmosphere. Time for the beach.

I decided to head for El Tunco in El Salvador. The border crossing was a breeze, just a stamp out in my passport in Guatemala , a cursory look over by El Salvador officials and a coffee and chat with the border guards who were interested in my trip, my choice of bike and whether they could emigrate to New Zealand. No one asked for any documents for the bike as it had Guatemalan plates. I spent the night in Santa Ana , a lovely town with impressive church and theatre and a lively Friday night show in the plaza. My choice of hotel , at the recommendation of a policeman, turned out to be a brothel. But it was clean , quiet and had safe parking for little suzi. It was only the next morning ,I noticed the hand printed ads for Viagra. George, the owner , had just returned back to Santa Ana after 35 years working in the States. “ This is my pension, and I like to think am supporting a social service.” he told me over breakfast. George , I believe you.

I could smell the ocean well before I saw it. A kind of raw tang and a sharper definition of the sun. Then I saw the waves. Nice little 3 to 4 feet swells sparkling . I found a room, broke out my fins and dived into the Pacific Ocean for the first time in nine months.


I felt immediately at home.

Ride safe


PS: I have pictures but I am finding great difficulty in transferring from Google photo to the site

Any ideas/ tips would be appreciated. I am using a Samsung chromebook