Having seen several Maya ruins and loved every minute of it we moved on to the coast for Christmas. We were going to go to Belize for Christmas but as we got closer and talked to more and more people about where to go we soon realised that Belize could be more expensive than our budget would allow so we made other plans. Again having asked around for recommendations and with time running out we found ourselves in Mahahual on the Costa Maya a little above Belize and right on the coast but still in Mexico. We rode into town late in the day in search for a place to call home for two weeks and to our horror most places were booked up for Christmas. Finally we found the Travel In. Run by a British and Dutch couple (who are nice people) the Travel In can only be described as a flea-pit! Our first night there was spent fighting off the cockroaches, killing ants in their thousands and hiding under what we assumed was once a functioning mosquito net. The cabana, called such in the loosest of applications was damp and smelly. The sheets were a wetter side of damp in them selves. The next morning we were up early and walking along the beach road in search of better accommodation. We came across La Cabanas del Tio Phil and having had a good look at what was on offer booked into the last cabana available. We returned to the `Travel In' and promptly travelled out again with our bags. We returned to our new home and found a full breakfast of fresh fruit, toast and jam, coffee and fruit juice waiting for us on the porch. At that point we knew we'd struck gold.

Raoul who runs the cabanas with his wife Marie gave us a warm welcome with his wicked sense of humor by insisting on calling Chris Austin Powers as a result of the Union Jack stickers on the bike. From then on Chris has been called Austin. Raoul is known to us as Doctor Evil and his sun (Philipe) is know known as Minime. Chris has been introduced to all who come to Raoul's as Austin Powers and we now walk through Mahahual to greetings of "Hola Austin Powers" every day! Or that was the case up until New Years Eve anyway. Chris then got a new name but I'll come on to that!

Raoul proudly has a sign outside his cabanas boasting 100% Relaxation Guaranteed and we have to say he lives upto it. For nearly two weeks we've spent our time sitting, reading on the white beach under palm trees and snorkeling on the barrier reef in the turquoise blue waters of the Mexican Caribbean. Less than 250 metres off the beach outside our cabana is the largest barrier reef in the northern hemisphere. Every day we don snorkeling gear and swim out amongst the coral and fish for hours at a time. The water is so warm its like getting into a bath. We swim over the coral which is no more than 12 feet below us and float weightless amongst fish of every colour, shape and size. Conches a foot across drag themselves along the bottom while cuttlefish, angelfish, stingrays and a thousand other fish nonchalantly watch us watching them. It really is an incredible feeling and a privilege to be able to see all these things. This in itself has made our Christmas something beyond our wildest expectations.

For us Christmas Day came and went like all our other days here. No presents or cards for each other, no decorations and mince pies. In fact Christmas Lunch and Dinner consisted of a packet of biscuits and a bottle of rough wine. Raoul's fisherman was supposed to go out and catch us and Raoul's family something for the day but unfortunately for us he'd got drunk a couple of days before hand and stayed that way of 4 days. We didn't mind, after all we have everything else.

New Years Eve. Well, it was a little different for us this year, especially for Chris. Suffice to say he entered Raoul's shower as Austin Powers and emerged in his underpants as 'Dances With Scorpions'. While sharing several bottles of wine with Raoul and his other guests Chris felt something on his foot (wearing sandals) and looked down expecting the usual moth or cockroach only to find a very large black scorpion on his foot. Not the first time this has happened to either of us but it is the first time the scorpion has been so big and then made a run for it straight up the inside of Chris' trousers. With no alternative but to take his trousers off as carefully as possible (not knowing how high it had gone) he took himself off to Raoul's shower and started stripping off. We listened through the door trying to gauge Chris' progress with the scorpion only to hear a resounding exclamation of "SHIT, Oh SHIT" shouted back. Myself, Raoul, Maire and three other guest all burst into the the shower expecting Chris to have been stung, only to find him franticly pulling off his T shirt. Somehow the scorpion had made its way up the inside of his trousers and having taken them off was rewarded with finding the thing staring him in the eye while sitting on his shoulder. He tried to brush it off again and this time it scrambled its way down his back before making another run again for the back of his neck. At this point we came through the door. To be honest we all expected one of the usual small scorpions that's not much more than an inch long but as Chris threw his T shirt to the shower floor a 5 inch menacing scorpion ran out at us. Raoul then valiantly stamped on it and saved Chris. For the rest of that night and since Chris has been known as "Dances With Scorpions". Although Marie now calls him James Bond instead of Austin Powers.

As wonderful as our holiday here has been it does seem to have been a series of brushes with danger for Chris. There was the evening he stepped out onto the porch of our cabana with a class of wine only to go crashing through the floor to the sand four feet below. No wine was spilt though! Then there were the tavano flies. Similar to horse flies but with a bite that induces incredible swelling to the effected area. Chris didn't get bitten once but four times. His right foot and left hand both swelled up to something near twice their normal size. Extremely painful and when the swelling goes down after 3 days or so a deep bruise is left. Oh, and then there are the blisters. Insisting on making the most of the available snorkeling Chris has proceeded to cover his feet in deep blisters from the flippers. He now has blisters on his blisters!

Should Chris (sorry - Dances With Scorpions) ever recover from his brushes with danger we will finally be leaving here in a day or two for Belize. We have a date with Camille and Alex, good friends from home who will be joining us there for a week of sightseeing and relaxation. It'll be so good to see people from home. One thing that sometimes gets a bit hard on our trip is answering the same old questions about what we're doing so it'll be nice to be with people who already know all that and just relax with friends. We'll only be in Belize for eight days we expect and then its onto Guatemala for some much needed Spanish lessons!

At the time of sending our last update we had just arrived in San Christobal Del Las Casas having ridden 2500 miles in a little over a week. We were riding hard so we could spend Christmas in Belize but still have time to take in the sights of Southern Mexico and the Maya World. On reaching San Christobal Del Las Casas we couldn't believe our luck. We'd arrived just prior to the weekend celebrations of the Pilgrimage to the Virgin of Guadeloupe. From hundreds of miles around people had thronged to the city to take part in the celebrations and welcome the pilgrims to the city having run hundreds of miles over the past week carrying flaming torches to the Virgin. For four days the city was just one big party in which the varied cultures of Mexico came together in a religious frenzy. People living modern lives and those leading traditional lives stood side by side in the streets respecting their profound differences but sharing a common worship. For us it was a startling reminder of how varied Mexico is. It may not be economically rich but it certainly is in culture and values. If there's one thing Mexico could teach the rest of the world its probably how to party. We looked on as men ran down the main streets with huge fireworks strapped to their backs that went off in every direction and the onlooking crowd ducked for cover as the fireworks exploded through windows and shot of through open doorways. At one point we looked on with our hands firmly over our ears as a group of men lit one end of a trail of gunpowder which snaked up the street igniting charges as it went. The street filled with dense smoke and the deafening explosions shattered the adjacent windows. No one seemed too upset by the damage and just carried on partying regardless.

Our time in San Christobal Del Las Casas was supposed to be relaxing but turned out to be exhausting. We envisioned going out on some of the tours of the local area taking in the canyons and Mayan villages but we never left the city in our entire time there. There was no need, it all came to us.

On our fifth day we did reluctantly leave the city and rode for a day over to Palenque. Renowned to be the 'must see' Maya city of southern Mexico we were looking forward to taking in our first Maya ruins of the trip. Standing on the edge of the mountain jungles overlooking the planes of the Yucatan Peninsula, it was once inhabited by thousands but today stands deserted, reluctantly giving up its secrets. A lot of people had said to us that we mustn't miss seeing these ruins and they were impressive in their own right. However, we found that the areas around the various temples and pyramids etc. were so manicured that they'd somehow lost some of their charm. Almost by having made them more physically accessible they'd become less spiritually accessible. We enjoyed the area but moved on quite soon.

Still heading for the Yucatan and ultimately Belize we stopped off in the small town of Rio Bec, half way between San Christobal and the Yucatan peninsula. We knew of several ruins in the area which were less excavated and more inaccessible. Becan was the first ruin town we visited here and although much smaller than Palenque it was in some ways more impressive for its setting. Surrounded on all sides by thick jungle and still consumed by it Becan revealed itself to us in small bite sized chunks. Rather than rounding a corner as in Palenque and seeing the entire city before you, all but the immediate foreground was revealed and in the hours we spent walking round the area it was a constant process of revelation. I could write for hours about the ruins of both Becan and Chicann that we later visited. They are the kind of places that can't be captured on paper unfortunately so you'll just have to go there yourselves some day.

On the 28th November we came back into Mexico south of Tucson and it was like coming home. The Mexican Immigration Officer sat and chatted to us for a while and showed us good places to stay on the map in his office. Stamping our visas came second to giving us a warm welcome. That's Mexico. Since crossing the border by and large its been hard riding south to get to the Yucatan and then on to Belize for Christmas. Even though for the most part we've just been riding rather than exploring we've still been having a great time. As we ride down the road people going about their business stop what they're doing and give us a wave. Truckers pull over and stop for a chat and when we stop for a break it seems the whole village comes over to say "Hola". Mexico really isn't a country you can just ride through, it adopts you along the way (with the exception of Acapulco). Its so far removed from home where life is so often tainted with indifference to strangers.

We followed the west coast down the country for 2500 miles stopping for a rest day only once, and that was with some strong persuasion from a Dutch motorcycle overlander come restauranteur. It was Liz's birthday (2nd Dec) and we pulled off Mex 200 into a little village called Manzanilla for a swim in the sea and some food. We apparently rode straight past Jolanda (the Dutch overlander come restauranteur) who was madly waving her arms at us to get our attention. After a lovely swim and a couple of margaritas we went in search of food and finally met Jolanda.

A year and a half ago she and her husband rode into the village just as we had and having been riding two motorbikes round the world for two and a half years decided this was as good a place to stay as any and have been there ever since. Together they opened a European and Indonesian restaurant and with equal measures of hard work in the restaurant and relaxation on the beach they're doing very well.

Jolanda's husband (Leon) was away but we soon got talking to Jolanda and before we knew it all the other customers had left and the three of us were drinking to excess (on the house), chatting into the small hours like we'd known each other for years. Suffice to say Liz went to bed that night having had a fantastic birthday (in her words). Jolanda had put a good argument forward for us to stay the next day so we could chat some more so we did. The argument was "why not!" We couldn't argue with that reasoning.

The next day was spent with Liz sitting in a kayak with me standing in the warm sea teaching her how to do a capsize drill and a few basic paddle strokes. Before long she had the capsize drill down to a tee and with her new confidence was surfing a few of the waves onto the beach. (You'll note there's only photos of me doing that bit but its true!) Later we met up with Jolanda again and she passed on some invaluable local knowledge of where to camp further down the coast and what to do along the way, before more drinks of course. We left Jolanda the following day feeling rested, looked after and with a new friend in Mexico.

Two days later we found ourselves in stark contrast on the outskirts of Acapulco, in a motel you wouldn't take your mother to! Paying by the hour we checked into a room for the night at 5:30. Tired and hot we went to be early on an uncomfortable mattress with trucks rumbling past the window and ants everywhere. At 5:30a.m. we were rudely awoken by the manager telling us our time was up and we had to leave. Having no choice we loaded the bike and took to the dark streets of Acapulco. To escape the heat of the day people start work here early and rush hour starts even earlier. We found ourselves riding at ridiculous speeds through narrow streets dodging busses, taxis and dogs trying to find our way out of the hellhole and south. Without a doubt its the most demanding riding I've ever had to do and I never want to repeat it. Miraculously we made it through the city and out the other side without taking a wrong turn, far more by luck than judgment. We continued south.

One of the places Jolanda recommended we should visit was Manazal. There she'd said we may get to see some Pacific turtles so we couldn't miss the opportunity and headed for the village. We got there by midday and found some dubious food for lunch, then headed down to the beach. It was so hot that we stopped at a bar for some water. Moments later we found ourselves pushing a boat down the sand into the water before jumping in to look for the turtles. Our guides were Jose, Jani and Situro, three local fishermen working a small boat off the beach. As we sped out to sea Jose stood at the bow as spotter. It seemed like forever that he kept signaling for the Situro to take the boat further out. Then we spotted our first turtle and the excitement grew. But Jose signaled for Situro to keep going. It seemed strange and Situro and Jani were looking at each other with puzzled expressions, as were we. Finally Jose was jumping up and down in the bow of the boat and shouting. Situro and Jose started shouting too and then we spotted them. Jose had seen a pod of Humpback whales off in the distance and was taking us strait to them. We grew closer and closer to where they'd last surfaced until they came up right infront of the boat. 20 feet in front. They were huge. We were in an 18 foot boat and these whales were three times the length of our boat!

There were five whales, two females each with calfs and a huge majestic male. It was totally breath taking. Our guides were singing to the whales and hugging each other and us. Situro told us this was an incredibly special moment as it was the first time the whales had been seen this year. The village believes that if the whales don't come the next years fishing will be poor and they'd been expecting the whales since September but had started to give up hope of seeing them. Evidently there were going to be some celebrations in the village that night! We followed the whales down the coat towards Guatemala for over an hour until it was time to reluctantly turn back. We'd almost forgotten about the turtles that we'd really come to sea but no one was in any rush to get back so we continued our search. It wasn't long before we found a big female quietly looking around to see who was coming her way. She seemed completely untroubled as we drew close to her and then Jani dived in to hold her. We were concerned that this would be distressing for the turtle but she just looked Jani in the eye and let him hold her. As we circled in the boat I noticed Jani talking gently to her with reassuring words and stroking her underside. At one point he even kissed her on the top of her head. It was clear that our guides really respected and loved these animals and wouldn't do them any intentional harm in any way. When Jani was happy he signaled for us to get in the water and swim over to him. For the first time in either of our lives we were five miles out to sea bobbing up and down face to face with a wild turtle. Even writing this its hard to believe that it actually happened. Turtles look so leathery and slippery but when you touch them their flippers (arms/legs, not sure!) are incredibly soft. Nothing like I imagined. We swam around with her for a while on her turns with Jani holding on to her so gently that she could leave us whenever she wanted but like dolphins she was curious of us too so was happy. Finally, with one gentle stroke she ducked under the water and returned to solitude. We returned to the boat tired and elated. We made back into shore talking in animated voices over the noise of the outboard. Rounding the kittiwake colony of Roca Blanca we were a little south of the village so having had such a good afternoon we dropped anchor and all went snorkeling for an hour or so amongst parrot fish and stingrays. Not a bad afternoon for £7.00 each!! That night we partied on the beach with the fishermen and their families, drinking Tequila and DosXX.

After 2500 miles of riding south we've finally turned east for the Yucatan. For the last 500 miles we've been passing people running in relays down the roads carrying a flaming torch. One runner carries the torch while a cattle truck full of his or her team mates drives on down the road, then dropping off another runner the first catches up and the torch is handed over before the process is repeated further down the road again. For three days we've been passing these runners and now in San Christobal we think we've found the answer to the reason for it all. In the lead up to Christmas each of the churches carries a torch from their home village or town to the capital and cathedral of the province. All day teams of runners have been arriving here with torches lit and feet bleeding (most of them run barefoot) before finally ascending the steps to the cathedral where their flame joins a huge pier.

Some of the runners have travelled over 1000 miles like this. Again, this is such a different world to the one we know. I haven't seen devotion like this since we were last in Mexico at Easter when people across the country work themselves into a frenzy as a 'volunteer' is crucified in a reenactment of the Christ's own crucifixion. Draw your own conclusions on that!

Now in San Christobal we intend to recover from all the riding for a day and enjoy the fiesta here. Oh, and recover from all our mosquito bites. After a night in a less than salubrious motel we woke up to discover we'd been eaten alive. We both have over 200 bites all over us so we're not feeling so well. It can't all be good I guess! The malaria tables seem to be working well though. This region was once the stronghold of the Mayan civilization and abandoned cities and temples litter the surrounding mountains waiting to tell their tales to us. Its also a stronghold of the Mayan descendants who live a poor but traditional life in the region. Over the next few weeks we'll be working our way through this area into Belize, learning a little more about our world and becoming all the richer for it.

In an attempt to be unpredictable we thought we'd send another update before you were expecting it! Since the 'Copper Canyon Update' we've, well, been back to the Copper Canyon. It was so good we decided to visit the Southern end of the canyon chains once we had got our new tire in Chihuahua. The Southern end of the canyons is every bit as fantastic as the Northern end but the canyon walls are a little more shear. We rode the bike along yet another dirt road for 20 kilometres or so to a look-out point in the middle of nowhere. To be honest we weren't expecting much of a look-out but when we got there it was worth the bumpy and wet ride (a couple of river crossings on the way). To get the full impact of the view Chris suggested leading me to the edge of the look-out while I kept my eyes shut. Like a fool I agreed. He led me 20 metres or so and then put my hands on the guard rail (thank God). When I opened my eyes it felt like I was suspended in a huge chasm. The ground just fell away beneath me and I had a huge attack of vertigo as my knees turned to to jelly. Once I'd got over the shock, and hit Chris, I just stood and took the view in. It was incredible. Unfortunately things were brought to an abrupt end as the heavens opened, but not before we got yet more photo's.

From there we seem to have put on a bit of a spurt and ridden mile after mile, day after day through the colonial heartlands of Mexico. The towns are mainly founded on silver and gold mining and you can see the greater prosperity in all the towns as compared to the those in the North of the country. They just have a lot of sand! As well as more prosperity there are more Missions and churches. They're everywhere and not just a couple in each town but often ten or more. Religion seems to have done well for itself here. Aside from prosperity, Missions and churches we've started to come across more Mesoamerican and Mayan ruins. The ruins are often a couple of thousand years old but still in good condition considering the elements they've had to endure. We spent a full day at the ruins of an entire fortified town outside Chicomostoc. The town was inhabited between 1800 and 1200 years ago. After 600 years or so of serving as a trade and economic centre for the region and supporting 200 turquoise and hematite mines the town was raised to the ground by a huge fire. In its heyday there were several thousand inhabitants in and around the town. From what we could see there were temples everywhere and enough human bones from all the sacrifices to keep a very large pack of dogs in heaven for a very long time.

In the last couple of days we've been in Guanajuato, a UNESCO World Heritage City. Its a really odd place as it stands in a narrow gorge. The river which runs through the city has been covered over and several underground streets opened up. The surface streets are really steep and narrow as they fallow the contours of the hills. The upshot is that the town is pretty traffic free with plazas and quiet cobbled streets to mill around in. Its all very beautiful with its colonial architecture and reminds us of Spain. Its the nicest City we've visited so far without a doubt. More importantly though. There are restaurants that don't serve re-fried beens. We had a real blow-out yesterday in an Italian Restaurant. If it was a Italian restaurant in Italy or even the UK we'd have been disappointed with the soggy pasta etc but after a couple of months of re-fried beens it was heaven. Still on a food theme, Chris was a little upset yesterday when he bought 2 hot-dogs and was then literally mugged for them by two drunk 'hot-dog muggers'. Luckily Chris decided not to put up a fight but as the muggers made off a passer by then proceeded to give chase and beat the ................. out of them! Even more fortuitously the muggers showed no interest in my chocolate cake! Seriously, while Chris was annoyed, there was no real harm done - to him at least.

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We've now started our loop back up into the States and Canada (hopefully) so we can avoid the rainy season further south. We're aiming to cross the US boarder again in 2 weeks and then head first to North Carolina to meet up with a load of like minded (and probably mad) motorcycle overland travelers like ourselves. Should be fun. We'll let you know!

Posted by Chris Smith and Liz Peel at 02:26 AM GMT

Its been a while since our last 'group update' and I guess for some people this will be your first update as you were foolish enough to give us your email address when we bumped into each other on the road somewhere! It seems that everywhere we go we keep meeting people, having a few beers or a meal together or on occasions spending several days together. This trip of ours is turning out to be quite a social epic and is all the richer for it. Some of the more unusual people we've met on the road have been a Welsh clown making balloon animals in a church at the bottom of the Copper Canyon and a heavily tattooed German (the tattoo on the side of his neck said Claudia but his wife's name was Carol!) who moved from the USA into Mexico having been arrested (no truth to it) on charges of terrorism by the FBI and is now the Secretary for Tourism in a small province of Chihuahua - apparently!

The last time we sent an update was while we were in Baja. Baja being pretty much desert and more desert we finally decided we should move on and find some water. As such we caught the over-night ferry from Santa Rosalia to Guaymas on the mainland and headed for the Copper Canyon in the North-west. The ride to the canyon area took us from sub-tropical sea level to the top of alpine mountains and winding forest roads for 300 miles or so. We found riding through a pine and oak forest that equals the equivalent of riding across England and Wales together quite impressive, not to mention gaining 7640 feet in altitude along the way. By the time we reached Creel, the tourist centre of the Copper Canyon area, both Liz and I were getting out of breath just walking on the flat due to the thinner air. Neither of us realised that Mexico was so beautiful, you tend to think of Westerns and Bonny and Clyde, not massive mountain ranges and stunning gorges. It is still a very dry area which we are in although whilst we were in Creel we experienced an impressive thunder storm and heavy rain which lasted most of 2 days.

The Grand Canyon in the USA is 1838 metres deep - the Copper Canyon is 1870 metres deep (and the Rio Colca Canyon in Peru is 3625 deep). Either way its a very long way down into the Copper Canyon. Wanting a little adventure (and having to do it just because we could) we took a dirt road all the way to the the bottom of the canyon.

Some may say that riding a motorcycle loaded with everything we have, and with two people on it down a very steep, rocky and loose single track road with drop offs of several hundred feet and no guard rail would get the blood pumping. Well, yes it did surprisingly enough. (that was English sarcasm for the benefit of our international friends). Anyway, we made it to the bottom without mishap. (I'll come on to the ride out in a moment!) The views along the way were out of this world. I can remember coming round a bend at the very top of the canyon and seeing the road just drop away for a vertical mile as it hugged the side of the canyon. Views like that make you first say " Wow"; secondly you say " we've got to ride down that"; and third you just laugh hysterically. Well we did anyway. It took us 3 or 4 hours to ride down to the bottom of the canyon and we were shattered by the time we got there.






There is an old mining settlement called La Bufa beside the Rio Batopilas where we stayed the night with Fritz the German guy and his wife, they run a small guest house with the best views of the canyon you have ever seen. The mine closed around 50 years ago but a few people still live there having a quiet but hard life amongst the Tarahumara Indians. The Tarahumara Indians live throughout the region and are considered to be the most 'true to traditional life' in the Northern Americas. Many have migrated into the towns but thousands still live a very very traditional life in and around the canyons and high Sierra's. They are very shy but are also inquisitive. They don't speak Spanish (which is OK 'cos neither do we!) and live off the land or by trading. Tarahumara mothers still tell their children stories about the Conquistadors coming to get them if they don't behave and to keep them away from the towns. We spent the morning at the bottom of the canyon meeting several who had come to see who we were. In reality we spent the morning looking at each other bemused and occasionally smiling and nodding but without talking. After a while the Indians just got up and left. We rode on to Batopilas which is the town at the end of the main dirt road and 15 miles or so from La Bufa. Its known for being an ex-mining town, its cathedral, the opium grown in the area and the Mafiosa gangs who do the growing. The town is actually very friendly. The Mafioso know who's who, the police know who the Mafioso people are and the visitors to the area (us) know to keep their heads down and shut up. As such everybody gets along. We stayed a couple of days in the town just seeing what made it tick (drugs obviously and tourism sort of ) and learnt a thing or two but never felt threatened. If its good enough for a Welsh clown and a resident French guy with lock-jaw (literally) its good enough for us.



We were going to ride further into the canyons but a) the track was too much for our bike with all our gear and b) there were bandits in the area (as opposed to the Mafioso) so we turned around and rode back the way we had come in. We knew what to expect on the ride so took it easy and plodded along before the big climb up the canyon wall. All was going well until we met a pick-up coming round a blind bend sideways (i.e. very fast). All we could do was swerve out of the way as fast as we could. The good news is he missed us. The bad news is we hit the canyon wall and came off. Our first accident of the trip! Again, the good news - we were both fine. The bad news - the bike had a caved in pannier and a broken indicator. The driver stopped (which surprised us) so we put on a show of 'not being the victim and taking control of the situation'. We weren't sure if this guy was Mafioso, bandit, or just another crap driver! We had been advised to go on the offensive in these situations until we know the score so Liz got out the camera and took his photo while I threw down my gloves and walked into his face. (If he was Mafioso or bandit we were buggered anyway so there was nothing to loose.) Lucky for us he was just a crap driver so first I made him help us pick up the bike and wheel back it into the road. Second we demanded $400 to pay for the damage. Given our Spanish is less than great he didn't understand what I was saying so I employed the universal sign language of rubbing thumb and forefinger together and writing 400 in the dust on his pick-up. Now that things were clear we banded about various numbers until we agreed on a figure. That figure turned out to be all the money he had on him including his spare change. Every single paso! He was driving a brand new pick-up and was in smart dress so I figured he could afford it. The actual sum was about £11.00. By the time he left us he was more upset than we were so all was OK. We picked up the broken bits of the bike and promptly rode up the side of the canyon while trying not to think too hard about the close shave we'd had. The ride up the canyon was still fantastic so it didn't spoil things for us. It just meant I spent the rest of the next day gluing the indicator back together and hammering the pannier back into shape (sort-of).



To cut a long story short, since then which is a week or two ago, we've been trying to organize a new rear tyre as the one on the bike is REALLY bald now, Liz was ill (we just won't go into detail there, nothing serious just unpleasant) and I have had an eye infection. All told, we haven't done a great deal since being in the Copper Canyon but today a general surgeon in Chihuahua has brought us together with our new tyre so were back on the road. (Thanks Arturo)

Posted by Chris Smith and Liz Peel at 02:23 AM GMT

Well, we've been in Mexico for just a little under a week (at time of writing this). Without wishing to sound smug I'm writing this sitting with a beer beside me and looking out over the most idyllic bay I have ever seen (no exaggeration). Picture desert mountains of burnt umber and sage leading down to a perfect golden beach encircling almost completely a bay of deepest turquoise blue so still you'd think you could walk on the water. We have a room in a guest house and our door opens out onto that beach. We've been here two days and we haven't seen anyone else on this beach yet. It really is that idyllic.

Having said all that we had to work to get here. The story of this place is that a lady called Alfonsina flew down here about 50 years ago with a pilot friend of hers, landed on the beach and stayed. He dug out a dirt runway and she built a guest house. Now most people who make it here fly in. About 20 years ago the Mexico government started to put a road in past here. 53 miles up the road and 19 years ago they gave up. There's a gravel bed etched out of the desert and that's it. We don't have a plan so we rode here at a top speed of 15-mph. The sweat evaporated out of our pores before it had chance to settle on our skin and we had to stop and let the bike cool down every few miles. For much of the way the gravel bed doesn't exist anymore. Its just dust and rock. We had to cross a couple of dry lake beds and ride down some steep descents. This place is somewhat on the remote side. Tomorrow we have to ride another 83 miles of the same again to get to the highway south of here. If we can't get through we'll have to come back the way we came. Should be interesting.

Mexico is an amazing place. We crossed the boarder at Tecate and rode down to San Filipe via Ensenada before coming here. We've come maybe 400 miles or so since crossing into Mexico. The roads are best described as adventurous. Mexican drivers have a style all of their own - using both lanes (if they exist) simultaneously. The greater danger on the roads are the Americans. Its currently Spring Break and they all head down this way and throw out the rule book. Speeding, drink driving, drugs, it all goes here as far as they're concerned. I'd rather have the Mexicans.

Its a place of extremes. The towns are basic at best. People are incredibly friendly or murderers slight exaggeration perhaps!). The scenery is either squalor or splendor. Whatever it is its not a place to be rushed though. We've only just arrived in Mexico and seen very little of it so far but if the bit we have seen is an indication of the rest I think we'll be here for a while. Well, upto 180 days anyway.

We’ve been in Mexico for a week today. In some ways it feels like we’ve been here for ages and in others its like we just got here yesterday. Crossing the boarder from the US was really easy. We were even made to feel welcome, unlike US immigration! It was a real culture shock for us when we got here though. We knew it would be but even so it was supprising just how different Mexico is from England or even the bits of the US I/we’ve seen. The towns are something else. It’s a bit like a really busy city imediately after a bomb blast. People running everywhere through chaos and broken roads and buildings. And the traffic in the towns is just as bad. Everyone does there own thing and any driving style goes. Having said that, erveryone observes the ‘4 way stops’ religiously for some reason. I learnt pretty quickly to just ride like the Mexicans drive and all is well. We haven’t felt worried on the roads yet anyway. (It’s a bit like Birmingham in rush-hour.)

On the whole everyone has been really friendly, especially when they realise we’re not ‘nortamericanos’. The USA isn’t popular here. Camping has been harder than we thought it would be. We were really supprised that all the main roads (there’s 5 on Baja) all seem to have barbed wire running along side them – even in the desert where there’s nothing to either keep people out of or live stock away from. As a result we’ve had to swollow our British reserve a few times and ask respectable looking strangers if we can camp in their yard or whatever. We haven’t had any problems yet, everyone is really hospitable. It might get easier to camp when we get onto the mainland. In the meantime, the soldiers at the check-points have been helpful for advice on who to ask for a place to stay (or not as the case may be). The military generally don’t stop us; they’re looking for the ‘Narks’ as the locals call them. (Drug smugglers). When we do get stopped though they’re really decent lads just doing a job. They like the bike though and want to know if its “mucho rapido”. Now we’re further south of the border than we were there isn’t as much of a problem with the ‘Narks’ as there was for us though.

At the moment we’re staying in a guest house on the Bay of Gonzaga about a quarter of the way down Baja on the coast of the Sea of Cortez. It’s a place called Alfonsian’s. Alfonsina is pushing 100 now but about 50 odd years ago she flew down here with a pilot freind, landed on the beach and stayed. She built the guest house and he dug out a dirt runway. Since then most people who come here fly in but given we don’t have a plan we came by what is supposed to be the road. The Mexican Government started to put it in about 20 years ago and then gave up 19 years ago and 53 miles from here. All there is is a track which passed by here and eventually joins ‘Mex 1’ 83 miles further south. The 83 miles are tomorrows treat!! For now the view here is amazing. Its one of those idyllic places you only see in very expensive holiday brochures. The difference being that when you buy the holiday as advertised in the brochure and get to your destination a thousand people did the same thing that week and its packed. Here I’ve seen one other person on the beach in 3 days (and the beach is about 4 miles long!). Its definitely worth the bitch of a ride to get here.

We seem to have resolved the teething troubles we had in the US, or got round them one way or another. Since crossing the boarder everything has been fine. The ride here was proberbly as hard as anything we’ll ever do on the bike (intentionally) and all was fine. The bike doesn’t handle as well on the dirt roads as we’d hoped but that’s to be expected I suppose when the bike weighs 560 pounds, plus 37 litres of petrol, all our gear, food, water and the two of us. On sand we found out very quickly that the front of the bike just goes in the direction it wants without any form of stearing whatsoever. I.e. we wont be doing any sandy roads if we can help it from now on. Gravel and hard packed dirt roads are fine though. It took a while for us both to get used to ‘living on the bike’ again but we’ve settled into it now. We’re getting used to a sore ass, shoulders, being incredibly hot or cold and dirty all the time. Life would definitely be easier in a 4X4 but the rewards wouldn’t the same. No pain, no gain!

From here we’ll get the initial 83 miles of dirt out of the way and then start making our way slowly down to La Paz before catching the overnight ferry to the mainland. We need to book a place on the ferry a couple of weeks before it sails so we’ll proberbly make the booking in La Paz and then ride down to the tip of Baja and back while we wait.



Baja is turning out to be really beautiful and we want to stop about every 100 metres to take a photo or just sit and look. The deserts, cliffs, sea and wildlife are incredible. We’re definitely in no rush. Baja was one of the places that was top of the list of places to go and it hasn’t disappointed. When we’re not riding the bike our day consists of:
1) Get up around 5:30 – 6:00 a.m. (unheard of!)
2) Go for a walk on the beach and throw the frizzbee around for a while (our attempt at getting fit!)
3) Either cook or buy breakfast and coffee.
4) Do some jobs (looking after the bike, washing, go into town if its near, find an internet café if its around etc.)
5) Read a book or update the Jurnal or download the latest lot of photo’s (loads of those!).
6) Go off exploring whatever is around for a while (as Liz is while I’m writing this)
7) Have some dinner and relax for a while.
8) Go to bed around 7:30 – 9:00p.m.

Alternatively our day can (and often does) consist of:
1) Get up around 5:30 – 6:00a.m and eat something quick.
2) Pack everything up and load it onto the bike.
3) Start riding the bike to wherever by about 7:30 – 8:00a.m.
4) Get really hot by 8:30a.m.
5) Get really dusty by 9:00a.m.
6) Have a break around midday at a petrol station is there’s one around (they’re about every 150 miles or so and often closed but a shop somewhere will be selling some petrol out of a drum – just start asking around)
7) Get back on the road and start looking for somewhere to eat or sleep.
8) Find that place to eat or sleep (just before dark for some reason).
9) Eat and put the tent up.
10) Go to bed around 7:00p.m. stinking and dirty.
Some days are really easey and some are a little more hard but it’s the adventure we were looking for so no complaints.

Posted by Chris Smith and Liz Peel at 02:18 AM GMT