Horizons Unlimited - The HUBB - Nomad

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Horizons Unlimited - The HUBB (https://www.horizonsunlimited.com/hubb/)

- Ride Tales (https://www.horizonsunlimited.com/hubb/ride-tales/)

- - Nomad - Round The World (https://www.horizonsunlimited.com/hubb/ride-tales/nomad-round-the-world-74624)

PaulNomad

12 Feb 2014 06:39

Nomad - Round The World

10 Attachment(s)

Hot on the heels of my round Australia duology - Brisbane to Broome and Broome to Brisbane, I have embarked on the big one - round the world.

Two years of planning including countless hours gleaning information from HU, I head off on my adventure. My trusty 2006 1200GSA - Ziggy, who (who?) taught me a thing or two about riding on the Australia trip, is primed and ready.

I flew Ziggy from Brisbane to LA where I'll be making my way across Arizona and New Mexico to visit some friends in Austin Texas. From there I'll head into Mexico where I'll spend two months before catching the Stahlratte to Cuba for three weeks. On my return to Mexico, there is nothing else organised, but the plan is to visit all Central American countries, head east across the top of Sth America through the Guyanas, down the coast of Brazil to Rio, then figure out the rest from there.

I plan to fly from Buenos Aires to Cape Town where I'll work out the route through Africa. Once in Europe, well I have to get home of course, so if I'm not sick of it yet, I'll be riding. But can I stop once I get back to Australia? I'm getting ahead of myself!

I have a blog (see the signature) where I'll be doing a longer version of the writing of the journey, and a Facebook page where I'll be posting stuff as well. I'll be posting photos here.

Follow me on my journey and make comments along the way. ?c? It makes a difference to know people are following. :funmeteryes:

A couple of photos of Joshua Tree National Park in California where I camped last night...bbbbrrrrrrrrrr :freezing:
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RobD	12 Feb 2014 12:51

Congratulations for doing this - I ride the same bike so will be following along
Camping already - and looks like you are not carrying huge amounts of stuff - I'm afraid I am the opposite - alway want to take everything!
Good luck and have fun

PaulNomad

12 Feb 2014 15:31

Quote:

Originally Posted by RobD (Post 454327)

Thanks Rob. The gear has taken a long time to work out. Started really heavy with everything, got it down to really minimal, then 'added a few bits' so not as lean as I would like, but see what does and doesn't get uses along the way and see if I can lighten up even more.

PN

STG06

12 Feb 2014 16:24

Canada?

G'day...enjoyed your Northern Australia write up. I lived north of Cairns 74-79 so brought back memories. Now that you are in the US, give some thought to Utah (HWY #12, Moab - Jeep week in late March is fun!, etc.) Also, have you ruled out coming north to Canada. You are a bit early for the hjigh alpine of the Great Divide route, but there's lots of adventure to be had thisaway! PM me if I can help with more info, place to stay etc....

Stephen
Red Deer Alberta

PaulNomad

13 Feb 2014 05:53

Thanks Stephen. You hit on one of the dilemmas of 'round the world' - which countries do you miss and still see as many countries as possible? One of my reference materials was Chris Scott's book Adventure Motorcycling Handbook, where he defines the 'Adventure Motorcycle Zone (AMZ)'. The zone excludes North America, Australia and Western Europe, mostly based on expense of travelling in those countries and probably a little to do with cultural differences and challenges in the other countries.

So in planning I have deliberately focused on the AMZ to enable my travels to last as long as possible. I can travel for twice as long in the AMZ. I happen to have friends living in the southern US so that's on the radar and is also an obvious take-off point to Mexico and beyond. So unfortunately Canada and further north into the US is ruled out at the moment.

Thanks for following!!

PN

PaulNomad

22 Feb 2014 05:48

California

PaulNomad

22 Feb 2014 06:29

Leaving LA and heading to Phoenix

I have already posted photos of Joshua Tree National Park, but on the way I rode through Desert Hot Springs
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Camping at Joshua Tree
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Leaving Joshua Tree National Park
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and heading to Phoenix, Arizona where I met up with other Aussies who were starting and finishing big trips. Bevan (riding) lives here and Glen in the sidecar has just finished a 14mth trip through Canada and the US and is heading back to Australia.
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Glen and Leanne on their Triumph Tiger 800 prepping for USA/Canada/Alaska
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The workshop
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I stayed with these guys for a couple of nights and can't thank them enough for their hospitality.

PaulNomad

22 Feb 2014 06:55

Riding in Arizona

Glen and Leanne and I went for a ride in the hills north of Phoenix to visit a couple of towns called Jerome and Sedona.

The road to Jerome wound into the mountains and was a brilliant ride of wide winding roads with switchbacks and sweeping curves against a backdrop of mountain views in the distance. There were few places to stop and photograph unfortunately
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Jerome township
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Sedona
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At Sedona, Glen and Leanne took a turnoff to loop back to Phoenix and I continued on to Flagstaff, then to Williams where I stayed the night on Route 66 before heading to the Grand Canyon the following day.

PaulNomad

26 Feb 2014 05:20

Grand Canyon

anonymous1

26 Feb 2014 23:22

Zen Moto

G'day Paul,

Wrapt to see you're on your way and obviously enjoying yourself :-)

When or if you get to Phoenix drop in and see Dillon and JB at Zen Moto, link below. I cant praise these guys enough for the hospitality and all their help in getting my KTM sorted. Dillon gave me bit's and pieces off his own bike to get me on the road rather than wait for ordered parts, in a word sensational.

Cheers Dave

PaulNomad

27 Feb 2014 02:17

Quote:

Originally Posted by Drwnite (Post 456250)

Hey Dave good to hear from you. Bit late for Phoenix , I left there a couple of weeks ago now. Met some great people there, an Aussie couple Bevan and Clare, and a few other riders, all of us from Qld! Good people seem to gravitate there.

I was just reading a comment you made about Copper Canyon in Mexico. I'm planning a route through there now. Any must see places from when you were there? And where are you now mate, you get around like a :censored: in a mining town!!

PN

anonymous1

27 Feb 2014 04:11

Copper canyon

G'day Paul,

The getting round was going great until the tenant :censored: me over, I'm back home, all but skint with my bottom lip out!

Ok if you haven't already entered Mexico, you will need insurance

Don Smith Mexico Auto Insurance - Nogales, AZ

And a TVIP

Google Translate

Both available in Nogales.

The route de la Sierra from Hermosillo to Chihuahua Hwy # 16 is a damn fine ride. It will take you about 2 days, half way there's an awesome waterfall called Cascada Basaseachic I cant remember the name of the town it might be Basaseachic, it's where the road is at its worst because of the mining traffic. There's a nice little hotel on the main drag opposite the servo, where I stayed.

Before you get to Chihuahua turn south to Creel it 's also a days ride. Plenty of good cheap accommodation and things to see and do. Ask about the thermal pools and take a wild ride ;-) Out of creel 70 odd k's the dirt starts head to Urique and then on to Batopilas, (stay at Juanitas) and on to Guachochi each is a days ride and it will test you, get early starts and take plenty of water, 2700m passes on what can best be described as quarry roads, I loved every second of it and it was one of the best rides I've ever done :-)

From Guachochi head to Balleza, Parral then onto Durango, the road from Durango to Mazatlan, the road of 3000 curves is to be done!

Hope this helps with planning a route, Cheers Dave :-)

PaulNomad

27 Feb 2014 04:17

Quote:

Originally Posted by Drwnite (Post 456273)

Thanks for the heads up mate. Bad news about the tenant, wasn't he a nephew or something?? I've read some other reports and I think I've got most of those spots covered but coming in from the east via Chihuahua. Really appreciate the links and hotel recommendations.

Sorry to hear the journey has ended for the moment but I'm sure you won't be stopped for long!

All the best Dave,

Paul

PaulNomad

3 Mar 2014 22:32

New Mexico

PaulNomad

4 Mar 2014 00:40

Albuquerque

Arrived in Albuquerque and had a problem with my brake light staying on and occasionally my brake failure light on the dash indicating an issue. I went to the BMW dealer - Sandia BMW Motorcycles - and met John and the team who were awesome. John jumped on and starting checking and testing and eventually coerced the fault out of Ziggy. He wheeled the bike into the workshop, found the issue, had the part - a faulty switch - and replaced it in no time.
Meanwhile I was checking out the collection of bikes on the mezzanine floor
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The guys did a great job and were keen to learn all about the trip, so I ended up staying for a couple of hours meeting people. Another rider, John, was getting tyres on his brand new 1200GS Adventure water-cooled and offered me a ride to try it out! The first thing I did was over-rev it as I started, my throttle hand used to the millimeters of play on my 2006 model, but this was responsive from the first touch. I was a bit tentative finding the clutch engagement point, and with a new wet clutch in this model it felt different. Once moving though, the power was effortless, the brakes, clutch and handling were feather-light, and I immediately felt comfortable on the bike.
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On my return I had a Cheshire grin, it was a beautiful bike to ride. But I had my trusty Ziggy who had proven herself over and over again, and I was happy to be on her for my world trip. Ziggy was ready when I arrived back, switch replaced and tested, and as I rode off with a few new Facebook friends, Ziggy felt like a bike with eight year old technology. I couldn’t be happier!

I found a hotel, again on Route 66 and spent the next few days discovering Albuquerque.
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PaulNomad

13 Mar 2014 06:16

Texas Y'all

PaulNomad

13 Mar 2014 06:45

Texas Y'all (2)

PaulNomad

18 Mar 2014 02:51

Story of a Border Crossing - USA to Mexico

Thanks to the start of daylight saving I was actually ahead of time having left an hour earlier than I thought from Terlingua, getting to Presidio at about 10.30am. Over a large brunch and several coffees, I decided that I would cross into Mexico today rather than getting a motel from midday as there didn’t seem to be a huge amount of things to do in Presidio. I gathered my paperwork, passport and cash to enter Mexico, and I was feeling quite nervous. Most of the way through the US I was told to be very careful in Mexico and although I have always looked forward to getting there, I guess the constant warnings had got in a little. Still, I have always felt no fear, but excitement about riding in Mexico.
I rode towards US border control and stopped to wave at the camera. There was a tiny booth with reflective windows and nobody came out. I waited a moment then another car came up behind me so I had to continue over a large bridge and voila, I was in Mexico. Now the problem with it being so easy to leave the US is that my Australian bike has a temporary import permit that requires stamping when I leave the US to prove that I have left.
I rode into the Mexican border control where I had to stop and open my bags for checking, a cursory search really. They were more interested in the motorbike and my lack of Spanish.
‘You do not speak Spanish?’
‘No’.
‘You do not like to speak Spanish?’
‘Yes I would love to speak Spanish but I’ve just arrived and I hope to learn here.’
‘Que?’
The next ten minutes were spent looking at the bike and talking about all the bits, calling over the other guards to tell them about it and amazement at riding all the way from Australia…sort of. I lied about riding all the way across the Pacific Ocean.
I was directed to a parking area where an attendant directed me to a parking spot. He took me to a nearby building where I had my passport stamped. I was directed to a short line of people and waited for forty-five minutes while the slow process went through one person at a time. This was the line for motor vehicle entry. I had done my homework and had the right papers, the correct money and I was done in a little over five minutes once at the window. I paid a deposit of $300 for a vehicle built between 2001 and 2006 ($400 for post 2006) then a $51 entry fee. I get my deposit back when I leave Mexico.
I was through customs, I was in Mexico and it was only 1.30pm. But I had two things on my mind. I still hadn’t stamped my bike out of the US and I was told firmly by other travellers that I need liability insurance for Mexico. A hundred metres down the road was an insurance building so I went in and asked about insurance. The girl at the desk spoke perfect English so she was easy to discuss options with. The boss however had only part English and I didn’t feel like I was getting a good deal. The price seemed to be nebulous at best. I wasn’t happy to pay $250+ for 6 months insurance so I left, saying I’ll think about it and decided to return to the US to get my paperwork signed out.
The line into the US was long and based on previous advice I rode to the front of the line three or four cars back, and was soon waved forward to a booth. I explained what I needed to do and this caused some confusion, so I was waved to a waiting area where I spoke to another couple of customs officers. They finally understood what I was doing and took me into an office, signed the paperwork and that was that…almost.
‘Have you had your immigration paperwork finalised?’
‘Yes, no, what do you mean?’
‘Follow me please sir.’
DOH! I was taken to another waiting room with thirty or so people sitting and waiting, but was taken straight to the counter with all my paperwork and the situation explained.
‘Take a seat sir, it won’t be long.’
After ten minutes another officer came up to me and explained that it was a change of shift and there will be about a half hour wait while they get organised. Great. Almost an hour later, my paperwork that was sitting on a desk in plain view of me but seemingly invisible to them, was finally picked up and I was called to the counter.
‘How long will you be in the United States, sir?’
‘Just long enough to do a u-turn.’ I explained what had happened.
‘So you are going back to Mexico?’
‘Yes’
‘Be very careful there’
‘Thanks, I will.’
He had a short discussion with his superiors about my situation and after another five minutes the paperwork was brought out and I was given the all clear. I walked back to the bike and started it up to cross the bridge into Mexico for the second time. It was 5.30pm in the US but only 3.30 in Mexico, or at least the state of Chihuahua where I was. I still needed insurance. Getting a bit bored of the time this had taken I went into the insurance company, bought six months at $50 cheaper than they had quoted previously and at 4.15pm I was stamped, insured and on my way to Chihuahua city to see what awaited me.

PaulNomad

19 Mar 2014 04:05

Entering Mexico and into Chihuahua city

I had read and been told a number of times to get out of the border town between Mexico and the US and once twenty or thirty kilometres into Mexico it was much safer. I rode through the border town of Ojinaga and decided on the Route 16 that had no tolls. I wasn’t really sure of the distance to Chihuahua city but I had been told that the toll roads add up and I was keen to get on a smaller road. It was already getting late in the afternoon and I assumed there would be some small towns along the way so off I went, found my way to the 16 and headed into the hills. I posted some photos earlier.
I connected with a couple on couch-surfing.com I contacted them by email and arranged to get there on Sunday afternoon. After my time at the border, it appeared to be less likely that I would arrive in Chihuahua city by then. My US phone credit had expired, I had no Pesos, it was Sunday afternoon so I was unable to contact them again.
The road continued on and I rose further into another range and as I got higher the sun became lower. The land was sparsely vegetated dry desert and the last of the sun’s rays were throwing shadows and shading on the slopes of the hills. I wound around bends to the right and the left, thoroughly enjoying the ride and there was no other traffic on the road, making it more special. However the light was fading and I still did not know how far I had to go to get to Chihuahua. I rode through several more ridges and valleys and finally I came to some habitation in the form of a scattering of houses and a petrol station.
I needed to fuel up so I stopped and met some people, one of whom could speak English. He told me that it was only forty-five minutes to Chihuahua and if needed there was a closer town called Aldama, with hotels, but he suggested going on to Chihuahua.
I took the advice but probably should have asked about accommodation nearby because ten minutes up the road was a sign saying 100kms to Aldama and 140kms to Chihuahua. By the time I reached Aldama there was still enough light to find my way to one of the hotels, commonly known as a ‘love’ motel.
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For $15 it was a bargain and had a comfortable bed, shower and no smoke detector, so I was able to light my stove inside, boil some water and have dinner. Ziggy had a carport with a heavy vinyl curtain to give her privacy.
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I had heard about these motels as a good cheap way to have secure parking for the bike. The TV had five channels, four of which were snowy, poor reception channels and the fifth was clear as anything…porn!
Without Internet, I had no hope of contacting Antonio so I turned in straight after eating and slept my first night in Mexico.
The next morning was clear, chilly with blue skies. I only had forty kilometres to Chihuahua so once organized I rode west with the sun on my back. Troy from Texas had told me that every town has a centre plaza and it is a good strategy to ride into the centre where one could find banking, food, accommodation and more. I rode into the centre and missed the square and became caught up on some one way streets. I finally just stopped to look at maps and the only parking space was actually a taxi zone.
A taxi driver walked up to me and I prepared to be told to move. Juan Antonio's face broke into a big smile.
‘Hello, where are your from?’
‘Australia. You speak English.’
‘Ah yes. From Australia. That’s great, what are you doing here?’
‘Travelling. I’ve just started a three year trip around the world.’
‘Around the world! All the way! How long have you been in Chihuahua?’
‘I just arrived and I need to find some coffee, Internet and a bank.’
Juan Antonio showed me to a café not ten metres away, the 7.21 Café, and had a few words with the woman serving. She turned to me and asked in English what I wanted to drink and eat. She made the best cappuccino I had had since Australia.
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Hubby hogged the camera lens though
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Over the next three hours I found longer-term parking, ate, banked, bought a SIM card for my phone and did larger and larger circles away from the café to orient myself. Chihuahua isn’t a large city so it was easy to not get lost, and I found the main square! It is a modern city which seemed as western as anything in the US, but a bit Spanish as well.
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I phoned Antonio and explained what had happened and a couple of hours later he was able to get away from work and meet me in the city. I followed him home, only about fifteen minutes in traffic and met his wife Norelise.
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I spent three nights with them and on the second night a number of their friends come over for a beer and barbeque, nothing foreign in that, and we kicked on till 4am.
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Much of the conversation was in Spanish and I was given the odd interpretation, but this was good for me to get my ear into the language.
On my last day I was invited over to Norelise’s parents where I met them and her younger sister and they put on a huge lunch and they all fussed over me. Her mum Leticia was as excited as Norelise when she saw the bike later. Leticia said I was not just from another continent but from another world and called me an alien!
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The next morning I said farewell and headed towards the area north of the Copper Canyon to see the sights of the area. It was the perfect start to my time in Mexico and I’m still humbled at the welcome and generosity I received from Antonio and Norelise.
I had a call out of the blue from a journalist who wanted to do a magazine interview with me. Luis worked for a lifestyle magazine and was a friend of the people from 7.21 Café, so when he read about me on Facebook he made contact.
We met about twenty-five kilometres north of Chihuahua city at a major toll station just after midday. We spoke for about an hour or so and then he said he wanted to do some filming of me riding. Another hour was spent on the bike up and down the highway with him hanging out of the car with his camera. We stopped for some lunch almost back in the outskirts of Chihuahua and another friend of his turned up, and he wanted to take some photos. We went back to the tolling station and they took all sorts of shots of me riding in different situations, even involving the toll booth officials who waived my toll (15 Pesos). After nearly five hours they said they had finished and I rode north along the highway. Unfortunately it was late in the afternoon and my destination I was told was two hours away, so I decided just to drive on until I found a motel.
Luis promised to get in contact with some photos and video and I hope he does.

anonymous1

19 Mar 2014 09:28

2 Attachment(s)

Good places to stay in Creel and Batopilas :-)

Daze55556

20 Mar 2014 02:55

Nice thread Paul, keep it coming!

PaulNomad

22 Mar 2014 15:28

Quote:

Originally Posted by Daze55556 (Post 458750)

Nice thread Paul, keep it coming!

Thanks Daze55556...will do. Appreciate you following!!

PN

PaulNomad

22 Mar 2014 16:10

Mexico - Chihuahua State

PaulNomad

22 Mar 2014 16:27

Heading to Copper Canyon

Noel900r

25 Mar 2014 02:33

G'day paul ,its wet here so having the day off

Decided to catch up on your travels ,some great shots.although many are missing .Wonderful that you are getting such a warm reception from the Mexicans.regards Noel:D

PaulNomad

25 Mar 2014 04:20

Quote:

Originally Posted by Noel900r (Post 459484)

Decided to catch up on your travels ,some great shots.although many are missing .Wonderful that you are getting such a warm reception from the Mexicans.regards Noel:D

Good pick up Noel. I'll work on it!

Mark_Sassafras

25 Mar 2014 08:40

Great trip

Hi Paul,
I'm enjoying your trip and look forward to following your progress, especially with Cuba just over the horizon, well off the beaten track.
All the best.
Mark.

PaulNomad

27 Mar 2014 01:48

Problem fixed

Quote:

Originally Posted by Noel900r (Post 459484)

Decided to catch up on your travels ,some great shots.although many are missing .Wonderful that you are getting such a warm reception from the Mexicans.regards Noel:D

Thanks for bringing this to my attention Noel. All fixed for your enjoyment! Have the waters subsided?

PaulNomad

27 Mar 2014 01:50

Thanks Mark

Quote:

Originally Posted by Mark_Sassafras (Post 459499)

Hi Paul,
I'm enjoying your trip and look forward to following your progress, especially with Cuba just over the horizon, well off the beaten track.
All the best.
Mark.

Thanks for following Mark. Glad you're enjoying it and I'm really looking forward to Cuba too. Such an awesome opportunity AND with the bike!!

PN

PaulNomad

27 Mar 2014 02:16

Basaseachi to Creel

The picture of the map of this road was everything it promised to be! There were bits of new road
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But they seem to have a bit of trouble keeping the crumbly mountains in place at the side
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And it's easy to see where the next ones are coming from
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And they are BIG!
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The road went for 90 kilometres and I was having so much fun on the twists I forgot to take photos! The scenery looked a bit like this
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I have some video but it will take me some time to get that processed. In the meantime I finished a video I made of the road to Basaseachi Falls. Be warned: there is a truck rollover and you can see where he slid sideways across my lane. I don't think it ended well for the driver.

I know, I'm yet to figure out how to do sound...

San Juanito was the next town where I stopped for lunch. Restaurant is a word open to interpretation in Mexico it seems. I knocked on the locked door that was opened by one of two elderly women sitting in what looked like a household kitchen. I was shown into the other room with four small tables where I ate a typically yummy Mexican meal.
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The road to Creel was straighter so I didn't take any photos of it either. You can only take so many photos of straight roads!
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This was the main street that met me
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I found a hotel that was pretty reasonable
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Then went for a walk and met my first Chihuahua in Chihuahua...this is just before he bit my boot, angry :angry: little :censored:
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There are many uses for train lines...often the smoothest path from one place to another
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Then I discovered tourist street
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Yes, that is chilly he is putting on the tomato sauce he put on my fruit salad!
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Tourist stores full of stuff
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Nice view from the basketball court
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and good old fashioned playground equipment like we used to have when we were still allowed to hurt ourselves as kids!
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When in Creel, visit long-time HU supporter and holder of local knowledge of the best places to see and ride - Ivan from The 3 Amigos Trails. He attended the 2004 HU meeting in Creel and is still here. He speaks English and is one of the few in town who does!!
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For more details on the story, visit my blog below.

Noel900r

6 Apr 2014 02:37

All going well mate ,some nice shots ,the waterfall was impressive.how is the language going ?anyhow will check in next week regards Noel:D

PaulNomad

6 Apr 2014 02:48

Quote:

Originally Posted by Noel900r (Post 460974)

All going well mate ,some nice shots ,the waterfall was impressive.how is the language going ?anyhow will check in next week regards Noel:D

Hey Noel, all going well. Have a bit of catch up to do with my blogging but I keep stopping at beaches for R&R and not quite catching up! You need to be out here fella!!

Spanish is a slow process for me but getting lots of laughs!

PN

TM1-SS

6 Apr 2014 02:57

Keep 'em comin' Paul!!:thumbup1:

PaulNomad

6 Apr 2014 21:20

Quote:

Originally Posted by TM1-SS (Post 460976)

Keep 'em comin' Paul!!:thumbup1:

On their way TM1-SS. Don't forget to check out my blog for expanded story

PN

PaulNomad

6 Apr 2014 21:36

Copper Canyon, Mexico

PaulNomad

6 Apr 2014 22:02

Copper Canyon, Mexico

TM1-SS

7 Apr 2014 01:03

Quote:

Originally Posted by PaulNomad (Post 461078)

On their way TM1-SS. Don't forget to check out my blog for expanded story

PN

Hi Paul, just checked out your blog, Cool!! :funmeteryes: Curious how you and Ziggy like the Heidenau tires for both paved and offroad?

PaulNomad

8 Apr 2014 05:05

Quote:

Originally Posted by TM1-SS (Post 461110)

Hi Paul, just checked out your blog, Cool!! :funmeteryes: Curious how you and Ziggy like the Heidenau tires for both paved and offroad?

Have to say that they are the only tyres I have used on this bike. I love them. Never let me down in hot, cold, wet, off-road conditions. They last for ages. 22,000kms from my last front one. Currently they are at 9,000kms and the rear looks a little over half and the front hardly looks worn. They have a tendency to flatten out but where I've been riding they have stayed nice and rounded.

Probably worth doing a wider search, as this is a subject that gets a lot of discussion.

TM1-SS

8 Apr 2014 13:50

Hi Paul, many thanks for the quick reply!! I have sought a lot of information on the tire topic. The Heidi K60s seem to be nearly universally loved by those who ride on them. K60s and Continental TKC80s seem to be the most liked of the tires for a real mix of on and off road. Trying to decide what to mount for times of more offroad than I think my Anakee IIIs might be able to really get into. I love the Anakees for highway (especially when it's wet) and rough road but would like something a bit more sure-footed in looser surfaces. Many thanks for the info.! Ride safe:mchappy:

PaulNomad

12 Apr 2014 03:43

Guachochi

PaulNomad

12 Apr 2014 04:13

Guachochi to Parral to Durango

The next town was Parral and it was not a long ride but once again had some lovely twisting roads through the mountains and I took it slowly, enjoying the riding very much. Along the way I stopped for a break and saw one of the huge logging trucks I share these roads with.
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There's always some animals along the side of the road to deal with
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And more shrines dotted along the way. This was only small
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with this inside
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I came across a group of dirt bike riders stopped at the side of the road so I stopped to talk with them. They were all on 400 and 450cc bikes, and they were all dusty and sweaty so I knew they had been riding hard.
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One of them owned a restaurant and invited me over, more to show off his shiny and (unlike mine) clean 2009 GSA
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The ride from Parral to Durango was long and had a 100km straight section, so I opened Ziggy up to have a bit of a run after all the mountains, not often getting above fourth gear. It was a Sunday so when I stopped at a small town, they were all out with stalls and a baseball game.
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A foul shot came out of the stadium and hit Ziggy on the front crash bar! I wasn't standing far away looking the other way and heard it hit. I continued on and had a nice cloud show
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Roadworks are everywhere in Mexico which means you often get to ride on brand new bitumen...Yum :welcome:
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I couldn't find a hotel or town leading into Durango that appealed and before I knew it I was in town. I stopped when I saw some guys around a 'Harley'.
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I asked if they knew a good but cheap hotel and after some discussion I followed one of the guys in his pick-up to the Red Motel. Needs no words.
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PaulNomad

22 Apr 2014 00:31

Road of 3000 curves

I had to be out of the Red Motel by 7am so I set my alarm and had one of the earliest starts of the trip. The road went straight into the mountains and the early morning gullies were chilly, getting as low as five degrees Celsius.
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The road started winding immediately and climbed high into the mountains. Before long I was getting some spectacular views.
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and the roads just kept getting better
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Over 200 kilometres of some of the best winding roads I have found so far in Mexico, and it is worth every bend! My riding improved significantly today.
Then my day hit an all time high. I saw another travel bike coming the other way high up in the curvy mountain roads, so I indicated that I was stopping and pulled over at a nearby clearing. Then a second bike came and pulled in behind me. The first bike returned and I met Billy and Trish.
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Billy and Trish are a couple of Australians…well Billy is actually a Kiwi but lived in Australia for decades…who have been travelling around the world by bike for seven years – this time. As I got off the bike, a female voice said,
‘You must be Nomad Paul. I saw the Queensland plate and thought it was you. I’ve been reading your blog and knew you were in Chihuahua and wondered if you were coming down this way.’
Pays to keep the blog updated!

We started talking and eventually had lunch and spent a good two hours exchanging stories and laughing. We were all on the same page. It is amazing how frank and relaxed you can be with your own countrymen. The irony was that they are from near Broome in Western Australia and we have some common acquaintances. I had lived in Derby (north of Broome) for a year where they were like folklore; the mysterious couple who worked at Cape Leveque for two months a year then continued travelling the world by motorcycle.And I meet them in the mountains of Mexico!!
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I wanted to spend a week with them to listen to their stories, but we were heading opposite directions and we both needed to get to our destinations before dark. I don’t normally have regrets, but I think I will regret not following them to a camping area for the night just to continue the great connection we found with each other. But after two hours, we packed up and went our different directions with each other’s contact details.
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They pointed me towards Hotel Lerma in Mazatlan where they had spent the last three months and for me it was the perfect destination to rest and relax. The road of 3000 curves and the ‘chance’ meeting with Billy and Trish had me on a real emotional high. This was a good day.

PaulNomad

22 Apr 2014 00:47

Mazatlan and Hotel Lerma.

PaulNomad

22 Apr 2014 00:57

San Blas

I was heading to Puerto Vallarta but it was 400kms and I didn't want to do that distance in a day so rode 200kms to San Blas where I 'roughed' it for 50 Pesos ($4) camping on the beach in my hammock.
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The problem there were the bitey sandflies that apparently stopped the place being developed. It didn't bother me too much but I only stayed one night and headed to Puerto Vallarta. For me it was a big disappointment. I felt like I had ridden back into the USA and the whole Mexican feel had gone. It had a big coastal esplanade with restaurants and bars, throngs of people walking and speaking English. It wasn't the place I came to Mexico to see so after a night in a small motel I headed south again. I took no pictures because there was nothing you haven't seen before.

PaulNomad

22 Apr 2014 04:07

PaulNomad

2 Jun 2014 17:11

Cuba

TM1-SS

3 Jun 2014 02:17

Good to hear from you again!!:D:D

PaulNomad

6 Jun 2014 00:45

Cuba Video

I have put together a video of my time in Cuba.

Enjoy

PN

TM1-SS

6 Jun 2014 01:52

Good video work!! Friend of mine rode his scooter around Cuba and loved it. His only complaint was "getting gassed" by the old cars, LOL

StaleFish

7 Jun 2014 20:37

Nice photos. Great video. Hey, I recognize that tank bag cover....I hear some generous bloke in Texas donated that. :cool4:
(Might be the only thing from here that travels for a while yet!).
Hope all is well and you're getting caught up on the posts (and blog?). We'll keep following.

PaulNomad

7 Jun 2014 22:08

Quote:

Originally Posted by StaleFish (Post 468931)

Hey Pat, the video takes time and the blogging is way behind. But I'm travelling and enjoying it! I've slowed down so much it will only take a week to catch me lol!!

PN

StaleFish

18 Jun 2014 02:59

So it's now been four months on the road....How about some tips on what you originally packed that it turns out you didn't need, and what you didn't originally pack that you wish you had?

Noel900r

19 Jun 2014 10:35

G'day mate

Paul its been some time since i have caught up on your post ,very interesting as always .loved the video ,did you get pestered much by locals wanting money ( in Cuba) this has been the downer for other travelers i have been following .Any how its great that you are at peace with yourself ,and enjoying traveling .catch you latter regards Noel
P.S the Blues won the series in the state of origin ,about time eh?

PaulNomad

25 Jun 2014 00:35

Really good question!!

Quote:

Originally Posted by StaleFish (Post 470337)

So it's now been four months on the road....How about some tips on what you originally packed that it turns out you didn't need, and what you didn't originally pack that you wish you had?

And deserving of a good answer.

The bike. I am 100% happy with the bike I chose. 2006 BMW R1200GSA named Ziggy. I've now done 50,000kms on her (total is 67K) and the only issues I have had are two blown globes (headlight and tailight), the front switch for the brake light (caused the blown globe) and an unusual mechanism dislodgement in the headlight assemble, a ball and socket that holds the position and adjusts the light. This caused the front globe to blow. Apart from that, she has handled everything I have thrown at her so far without a groan. As you know Pat, I'm a six footer, so this bike is not for everyone, but for me has been the perfect choice so far.

Invaluable equipment:
iPhone. My lifeline, my GPS, camera, sound recorder, Internet connection with the world, alarm, clock, compass, notebook, contacts, reminders and emails. I can even make phone calls. Absolutely my right hand. Wouldn't leave home without it. I think Siri loves me.

Apps. Maps With Me. Just download it. Replaces a GPS. Best online maps I've used. NO INTERNET CONNECTION REQUIRED!!. this App has saved my getting lost and finding my hotel again without Internet more times than I can remember. Best App ever.

Riding Gear. I purposely spent good money on good gear. Don't compromise. Riding gear that works how it should every time you put it on is worth gold and will last. I set up for all climates with body armour mesh (motocross) and evaporative cooling vest for HOT weather (over 40C) and it has kept me alive. Likewise thermals and an electric vest for the cold...perfect. Get the best gloves you can afford. My BMW GS summer gloves have done most of the 50K kms with me and are still perfect. Happy with all of it except maybe the fit on my waist with the pants. Not bad enough to change.

Luggage.
I chose to go soft gear and have a Giant Loop Great Basin (original style), a 49L Ortlieb Pack Rack bag and a similar 24L one. Finally a Wolfman Rainer Tank Bag.
I am very happy with my choice and the quality of all the gear. There are always some compromises with soft gear, it isn't as easy to simply lock the boxes and walk away. That said it takes me ten minutes more to strap everything on and not much slower to unload than hard cases.
The advantages first and foremost are weight. My total weight for gear is around 25-30kgs including camping, cooking, clothes, tools, computer and electricals. My handlebars and tank are the widest part of the bike so I find it easy to manoeuvre in cities. The weight is stacked behind me in the pillion position and is half the weight of a small passenger. I am barely above the standard weight of the bike (due to other mods) and I can pick it up easily by myself when needed doh

I spent two years researching gear and reading 'millions' of posts on what works and doesn't for others.

My tent with groundsheet, pegs and pole (singular) weighs 500 grams. It is an ultralight designed by extreme walkers. I camp probably 10-15% of the time at this point of my trip so 90% of the time I am carrying it 'for nothing'. At half a kilo it's not an issue. It has stood up in tropical thunderstorms, zero degree nights and one big sandstorm without incident.
I carry an Exped Ergo Hammock Combo which weighs about 1.4kg and includes the biggest parachute tarp that can be used alone to park the bike under. It is my most comfortable night's sleep. If there are a couple of trees around it is my first choice. Fast, comfortable and completely waterproof under the tarp.

Sleeping bag. I have a 0C rated down bag but it is not warm enough for me. At 0C I wore all my thermals and riding gear and was still uncomfortably cold. I'm a cold fish and prefer the tropics and hot sweaty nights. It is the only thing I want to replace with a -10C bag before I hit South America.

Exped SynMat UL 7 LW with Schnozzel. Super comfortable. Quick to inflate with the schnozzel, I've used it heaps in all climes for two years and hasn't let me down once. Would buy another one tomorrow.

Whisperlite International stove. Awesome. Boils water in no time, cooks my food easily, packs into a tiny bag and runs on unleaded gas from my tank. I carry a 300mL bottle attached in a bicycle water bottle holder. I pump fuel from the bike with an outboard motor priming bulb.

Computer. Apple Macbook Air. Awesome. No moving parts, weighs one kilo, stores video and photos (500GB and 8MB RAM) so I can easily edit video. Charges quickly, lasts for hours and hours between charges. Love it. I carry a 2TB external harddrive. I store them in a SealLine 10L Dry Bag and carry an ultralight Marmot 20L backpack containing computer and valuables that I can easily take out of the Ortlieb and carry with me away from the bike.

Security. I spent $4 in Mexico on a 4M x 8mm cable and made a loop either end with aluminium swages. I feed it through all the luggage and padlock it to the frame. Looks effective. No issues yet.
Pacsafe 12L portable safe. secure all my valuables to a solid object in the hotel room or to my bike if camping. Nothing is completely secure but it makes it a bit harder for would be thieves.
Bike cover. Motoline large. Getting a bit grungy but proving its longevity with no rips or holes after 2 years and 50K kms. And all the stories about it making the bike 'disappear' are true. With it on I don't get a second glance. Off, Ziggy attracts a crowd.

Chair. Helinox portable camping chair. Comfy with back support. I love it and it makes people with tri-stools jealous. Weighs not much, is the same size as one of my shoes and a must for us oldies!

I have a bunch of smaller stuff as well that I won't go into details with here. I'm happy with everything so far, had no breakdowns with any of my gear and apart from the sleeping bag, would use all the same gear again. There is nothing I want to send home.

There is also nothing I would take that I don't have. Everything else I have needed has been available so far. Two years of research really made a difference as did knowing what I wanted and how I wanted to travel. For me the important thing was to keep the bike as light as possible so I can be confident in lifting it by myself because I travel solo mostly. I have travelled with other riders and we have compared gear, but I wouldn't change my system. Certainly not after 4 months, maybe in a year I will be talking differently!

FINALLY, I am NOT sponsored at all and have no affiliation with any of the companies or equipment I have named. I named it because it has performed well for me and I am happy to recommend it.

PN

PaulNomad

25 Jun 2014 00:49

Quote:

Originally Posted by Noel900r (Post 470466)

Thanks Noel, being a NSW boy originally it was nice to see the drought broken. bier
Thanks as always for your feedback. The video was fun to make and hopefully sums up my three weeks in Cuba. The locals wanting money is a real thing and did taint some of my experiences in Cuba. The group I went with all had different experiences but we all found it challenging, confusing, inspiring, amazing and worth every moment. If you get the chance to go, don't hesitate!

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PN

PaulNomad

25 Jun 2014 00:57

Quote:

Originally Posted by TM1-SS (Post 468779)

Good video work!! Friend of mine rode his scooter around Cuba and loved it. His only complaint was "getting gassed" by the old cars, LOL

Thanks for the feedback. Always appreciated!!

Noel900r

29 Jun 2014 08:48

Thanks mate for the reply .i thing travel experiences good or bad are all memorable ,and add to the tapestry of life.look forward to you next update
:D

PaulNomad

19 Jul 2014 22:08

After Cuba

Noel900r

20 Jul 2014 02:48

Great shots mate ,looks like the journey continues to interesting .:D

PaulNomad

29 Aug 2014 01:13

A long overdue update - Oaxaca Mexico

I was planning to meet up with Alex and Alison, a Malaysian couple on a BMW 1200GS Adventure doing a world trip the same direction as me. We met in Mazatlan. Alex had given me the hotel name and street, but Oaxaca being another maze of one-way streets, had me circling for an hour before I found it. It was great to catch up.
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We talked and ate and walked through town and had a great meet up. I stayed for two nights and on the last morning we rode together to see this giant tree, arguably the biggest diameter tree in the world. Whether it is or not, certainly it was impressive.
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The tree was on the edge of the city and fortunately it was on the way to the cascada petrificada, a stalactite-like waterfall made of calcium deposits over hundreds of years flowing down a cliff. Pretty impressive!
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We spent some time taking photos then we rode back towards the city and I stopped at the town of Mitla. This is the heartland of Mescal, a tequila-like drink made from the agave cactus. I found a nice little shop where they gave me some tastings and I bought a small bottle – for medicinal purposes – after taking some photos of their distilling operation.
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There are hundreds of small stills and businesses producing this drink and plantations of agave are dotted everywhere. In the centre of town was the square and a nice looking hotel so I went in to check prices. 780 pesos. I laughed.
‘This is Mexico, nobody pays those prices.’
I rode 300 metres up the road and found a hotel for 200 pesos. It was fine! The next morning I walked around the ruins that the town claims fame for and walked again through stall after stall of indigenous handcrafts. It’s lovely colourful stuff but I have no room to buy anything on the bike so I just look and try to explain over and over why I can’t buy. Good practice for my Spanish. It was a picturesque town with some ruins at the top.
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PaulNomad

29 Aug 2014 16:01

Pacific Coast and San Cristobal de Las Casas

Moving on again I headed for the Pacific Coast this time through one of the narrowest parts of Mexico. I loved Puerto Escondido a couple of months ago and was hoping that Salina Cruz might match it, but unfortunately I found a massive oil refinery dominating the coast and businesses.
It was already late so I headed along the coast and found a string of beachfront restaurants but none had accommodation. The place had a rundown feel to it and appeared to be under the control of the petroleum companies. I rode back to the highway and found a ‘love’ motel where I negotiated a nightly rate (normally hourly?) and ate an overpriced meal in the attached restaurant. It was a hot night with just a noisy fan so I had an uncomfortable sleep with three showers during the night to cool down. I left first thing in the morning.
I rode towards San Cristobel De Las Casas, through a windy area
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I climbed back into the mountains and stopped at a reservoir
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then took a walk down to a river with a waterfall
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and finally pulled up in a lovely town on a river called Chiapa de Corzo that had a very old structure in the middle.
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I once again found a budget hotel just by riding around, with good secure parking behind a locked gate. Walk, food, sitting and watching people, this seems to be my evening habit in a new town. There was an increase in the number of Indigenous people selling all sorts of crafts and clothing. I had passed into the state of Chiapas and I had been told that around San Cristobel was the highest concentration of Indigenous people in Mexico.
Once again I only stayed the one night and it was less than 100kms to San Cristobel, so I took the mountain road and was greeted with some of the most amazing views of the trip.
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High up in the mountains were small towns of Indigenous folk and what really amazed me was the agriculture. These amazing people farm fruit and corn on incredibly steep slopes that a normal person would not be able to walk on. And the agriculture goes for miles and miles through multiple little towns winding high into the mountains. Every slope has trellises or corn planted to the roadside and perfectly distanced between the plants.
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A lonely tree
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Towns built on sharp ridges
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Elderly men and women with hunched backs were carrying timber and produce along the roads and tracks or were working the fields along the slopes. Such hard work, such a difficult lifestyle. Fortunately for me it was warm and sunny but here it is not likely to be like this often, with some clouds starting to build around the peaks. The place fascinated me.
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Eventually I wound my way to San Cristobel and stopped in a recommended hostel that offers motorcyclists a free night. Yes please! I stayed at Rosscos Backpackers for three nights (16.742712 -92.639587), walked the city endlessly and made some new friends.
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PaulNomad

30 Aug 2014 17:39

Adios Mexico, Hola Guatemala

I looked at a map in San Cristobal and noticed that the road to the Guatemala border was less than 200kms and it immediately made sense to me to head that way. The decision was easy and obvious. It was time to move on from Mexico, the place I have enjoyed for four months now. I was excited to go to a new country and started turning my mind to Guatemala and the people and places I would see.
I decided to ride the 200kms slowly to the border town of Cuauhtemoc and take a hotel so I could do the border crossing first thing in the morning.
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When I arrived I met Chris and his son Dexter travelling on a Suzuki V-strom 1000
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loaded up well and heading into Guatemala to volunteer at a place where they do up old bicycles for distribution to communities. They entered Guatemala straight away. I could have done the same, it is a very quiet border crossing but I stayed until morning.

The Aduana office was opening at 9am according to what I was told in the afternoon before, but by 8.30 it was open and operating. I was in a hotel across the road, a good cheap place to stay but expensive to eat, so at 9am I was in the office and ten minutes later I was out with my temporary import form cancelled and the $US300 deposit in my hand in cash. I walked next door and had my passport stamped out, another two minutes and I was away for the five kilometre ride to the Guatemala border.

Two hundred metres before the border was a shanty town of stalls selling the full range of artesenales, clothing and food with hundreds of people milling along and across the road, making it a narrow path to get through and lucky not to take any casualties on the road!
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The border was a large metal gate where I was stopped and the bike fumigated with a guard and his backpack spraying Ziggy like a weed. I paid the 16 Quetzales ($2) and rode ten metres to the Immigration office where my passport was stamped in. I rode another 30 metres to the Aduana office where the friendly and helpful officer spent twenty minutes filling in forms, taking copies of my licence, passport and registration, then without checking the numbers on the bike issued me with a temporary import sticker good for 90 days. I was riding into Guatemala just before 10am. I hope all of my border crossings are this easy. I suspect they won’t be. I didn't want to push my luck with the armed guards by taking photos.

I had a wonderful morning riding through the stunning mountains of Guatemala.
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Small villages one after another rolled by nestled in scenery of peaks and valleys stretching in all directions.
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It was a postcard at every turn and typically it is impossible to capture the beauty with my little camera and hard to find places to pull over where the scenery is best. The road followed a river that was flowing strongly through the rugged valleys with villages nestled on its edges and I wondered how many dogs, cows and children had been swept away over the ages.
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At one point there was a convoy of vehicles full of indigenous folk, traversing a cable suspension bridge over the flowing river.
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A crazy little town looked like it was recovering from a local market or fiesta
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The stunning scenery continued for a couple of hours riding.
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PaulNomad

30 Aug 2014 18:31

Summing up Mexico

After four months in Mexico it's hard to sum up in a couple of paragraphs because my experiences were so diverse.

Should you go to Mexico? Absolutely!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!:funmeteryes:

Should you believe anything negative you hear about Mexico? Absolutely NOT!!!!!!!!:ban:

In four months I did not have a single negative incident or experience due to the perceived dangers in Mexico. The people were warm, friendly, welcoming, generous and with an awesome sense of humour. I felt welcomed and looked after everywhere I went.

I was so immersed in the life and culture I haven't written up all of my experiences. There were so many wonderful people starting with Norelisa and Antonio in Chihuahua City where I couchsurfed for three nights and was introduced to the very normal people of Mexico.

The beautiful Ortega family from Puebla who took me in for eight days over Samana Santa, fed me every two hours, included me in their family fiestas and community events, fun rides, culminating in a community procession.
My two beautiful friends Brenda and Diana
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My good friends Felipe, Fausto and Lana who taught me to ride like a Mexican, Introduced me to tons of people, put me up in their hotels and continue to be supportive friends.
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James and Arturo in Orizaba showed me the best hospitality and friendship and some great riding through the area.
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Many other people on the way enriched my time in Mexico.

The roads and riding are spectacular. From the new roads and challenging old dirt roads in Copper Canyon, The Devil's Backbone from Durango to Mazatlan, The mountain roads from Oaxaca to Puerto Escondido and many many more. Mexico has improved my riding skills by an order of magnitude.

However Mexico has millions of topes - speed humps. It has no shoulders on the otherwise beautifully sculptured winding roads, especially important when trucks, buses and cars come around blind corners on solid lines on your side of the road.

Unfortunately I have to say that Mexican drivers are basically shit with little concern for their own or other's safety and speed limit signs are simply roadside bling. You do get used to the madness and I did learn techniques to avoid the regular stupidity that I saw. Still there were days...

There were a lot of 'buddies' on the road for me. Get back on your side of the road buddy. Stop pushing me out of my lane buddy. Stay there buddy. Bit of space please buddy. Buddy where did you learn to drive. Buddy I'm on a 300kg bike not a 125. Buddy!!:ban:

The food is fantastic and changes as you move through the country. I ate at markets, roadside stalls, small family restaurants called Fondas. The food was always delicious. I can't give a favourite because I would always try different things. Never disappointed. I had a couple of stomach issues but less than my four weeks in the US.

I was fortunate with the weather and had probably two days where the rain particularly stopped my riding. I stopped for a month in Puebla where it rained every afternoon but I wasn't out in it.

Would I return to Mexico? In a heartbeat!!!!!!!:clap:

Thank you Mexico for everything. I love you guys :wave: :thumbup: and I hope the naysayers choke on their own vomit :censored:. Actually that's a bit harsh. I hope they go and visit and allay their fears by meeting the great people of Mexico.

PN

PaulNomad

6 Sep 2014 22:56

Lake Atitlan

It takes a bit of time to get used to the roads and driving habits in a new country. Whilst generally the traffic so far seemed a little slower and less aggressive than Mexico, it became apparent that the large coloured and decorated buses loaded with passengers, commonly known as chicken buses, rule the roads.
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On three occasions I was forced off the road by them coming head on towards me while they were overtaking. No apology, no trying to avoid me, just flashing high beam and loud horns telling me to get the **** out of their way. :ban:
Hmmm lesson learned. Ironically I was the one stopped by the police at a random licence check. All was ok and I mentioned how dangerous the buses were driving and yes, they agreed they are dangerous. Thanks guys.

The ride to Lake Atitlan the next day was a downhill winding road with a few photo opportunities and spectacular views of the surrounding volcanoes.
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I wound my way to a town called Panajachel on the northern side of the lake. A popular tourist spot it was fairly quiet with a lot of hotels that appeared empty. I managed to negotiate a room for two nights for 100 Quetzales ($13) a night with a nice hidden spot for Ziggy and killer views of the lake from a special open room on the second floor.
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I stayed for three nights. On my second day I took one of the public boats straight across the lake to a little town called Santiago nestled between the two volcanoes.
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There was some week long festival happening and it was a lot more crowded with a labyrinth of markets selling food, clothes, art and everything else.The people here are very small with most not reaching my shoulders so it was easy to see my way ahead through the crowded mayhem amongst boisterous haggling, spruking vendors and background explosions of fireworks.
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Twice I was blocked up by a small group of people, both times a man and three or four women and I could feel hands searching for my pockets. I knocked the hands away when I realised what they were doing then barged my way through them to break their blocking of my passage. Fortunately I have zippers on my pockets and they only managed to partly open them and nothing was stolen.

After finding some good coffee
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and knocking back another 150 requests to buy things, I walked through the steep residential area and took in more views of the lake and volcanoes.
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The next day I rode up to the highlands and half way around the lake, visiting a number of small towns and taking in the scenery. The roads were rough and potholed for much of the ride so I was on my guard but travelling without luggage makes it easy. It was nice to have a day exploring but there were some serious storm clouds looming so I didn’t go as far as I would have liked.
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PaulNomad

6 Sep 2014 23:07

San Andres Itzapa

I rode along the same road into the mountains as yesterday to leave Panajachel and turned off towards Antigua.
I stopped for lunch at a small town along the way and while I was eating a solo rider stopped on a Triumph Tiger 1050. We started talking and I met Manuel from Guatemala City who was out for a Sunday ride. He was returning to the city and knew a good back road to San Andres Itzapa and said he would show me the way. The small winding road was crumbling and full of potholes but it was an exciting ride with runners and cyclists sharing the route. At one point the road was completely washed away and we had to divert around a gravel road and through a small river crossing to start climbing up the other side of the hill. It was a great hour and a half ride through some more small towns with the typical Sunday markets until eventually we reached the turnoff to San Andres Itzapa
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I rode into the bustling town with markets in full swing. I had no idea how to find Chris and Dexter, so I pulled up in front of some stalls and asked where to find Internet. As I was talking, Chris and Dexter walked up with surprised looks on their faces.
‘When did you get here?’
‘Just now’
‘We are just returning from the markets and I saw your bike.’
I followed them to the workshop and met a group of cyclists that were staying and building machines.
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I stayed for two nights and helped around the place where I could and enjoyed the company of other travellers. One has to admire cyclists travelling long distances.

PaulNomad

6 Sep 2014 23:24

Guatemala City/Antigua

I rode to Guatemala city to look for the BMWMotorrad shop. I was in need of new tyres pretty soon and approaching my next service schedule. I managed to find the BMW car store and they directed me to the motorcycle store.
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When I arrived I spoke to them about tyres and they had #Heidenau K60 Scout’s in stock and could fit them immediately.
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I am impressed with this tyre choice. I had previously done 13,000kms on a rear Heidenau in Australia but it had squared off in the middle due to most of that distance being long, flat and very hot. By going with light gear and lightening the weight of the bike where I could and the many winding roads on this trip I completed 20,000kms with rubber to spare. There were some times of harder riding in Mexico and there had been lots of long flats in the US so I vowed to ride even more gently on these tyres and aim for 25,000kms.

While I was waiting for the tyres to be fitted a Guatemateco guy started to chat with me. Meet Cisco. He rides an #F800GS so we talked bikes and travel.
‘You are travelling for three years? How can you afford that?’
‘You know. No house, no wife, kids are grown up…’
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We swapped details and said we would keep in touch. This was one of those ‘chance’ meetings that becomes a defining moment in which direction I will head.

It was approaching peak hour when I left the workshop to ride the hour and a half to Antigua but I found myself quickly in traffic gridlock heading out of the city. Against one of my own rules I joined the throng of motorcycles splitting lanes and it was so commonplace that the cars for the most part move to the side of the lane to give the bikes room.

Three-quarters of an hour later I was climbing the winding roads into the mountains and down the other side - carefully with new rubber - towards Antigua. It was well and truly dusk by the time I arrived and I was met with cobblestone roads, one-way streets, hundreds of accommodation choices but the first three had no parking for Ziggy.
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Eventually I found a hotel that was comfortable with great parking behind a metal gate, but it was 165 Quetzales with no Internet. Still it ticked the most important box of secure parking and I stopped there for one night. Finding food was a bit of a chore as the hotel was a good two kms out of town so I found some pizza and called it a night.

PaulNomad

15 Sep 2014 05:04

Antigua

I headed out earlyish to find some breakfast and a good coffee and rattled my way over the cobblestones
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to the main square and had a nice bowl of oats and a full plunger of coffee at Café Barista. This is the view
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This became my morning routine for the next few days. There are lots and lots of motorbikes in Guatemala.
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This is Ziggy trying to blend in.
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I rode in circles for three hours going from hostel to hostel and some hotels. The hotels wanted too much money and the hostels had no parking. I finally settled for one that let me park in the foyer but I had a funny vibe about it as soon as I walked in. Should have listened! Hostels are really just new for me on this trip. I like the quietness of a hotel room with Internet and privacy but I am becoming more aware of my budget and realizing that I am not really travelling as cheaply as I planned. I tend to forget to worry about it.

The staff were nice but maybe the price of a bed reflected the clientele. I stayed two nights. The police summed it up
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I did take a couple of hours of Spanish conversation with this local guy Marcos which I hope will help my Spanish along.
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PaulNomad

15 Sep 2014 05:18

Antigua gets bad

My next accommodation effort was double the price ($10 a night) but seemed a bit more promising with a private but very small room. Unfortunately I was placed between two toilets and every doorway was made of metal, so it resembled a prison during the night. The drunks would arrive back loudly at 3am clanging their doors. Everyone cleaned their teeth at the basin outside my window. At 5am there was a mix of people getting up to catch their bus to another destination or a tour, but also there was a group of Guatemalans who seemed to like getting up at 5am and hanging around talking at the top of their voices in the hallway.

During the day I got out and caught a local parade,
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then went for a ride around some local towns.
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A communal laundry
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Local markets
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and the ever present volcanoes
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The first night at this hostel I thought it was just that night and things would change. However the second night was worse. I had been to the market and bought a papaya for lunch and sat in the common area to eat. Almost immediately I felt a bit bloated and flushed. I went to lie down and spent the next four hours in a sweat with severe nausea. Finally I vomited my life away. :funmeterno:
That got me up but I was still feeling bad. I went to bed early but noticed my mattress had a big sag and with the banging and clanging of metal doors, the toilets flushing and doors slamming, the cleaning of teeth, the noisy people at all hours; I experienced my worst night I can remember. :ban:
Funny that I have no photos of this period!

Somehow feeling marginally better in the morning, I packed the bike and rode back to Guatemala city.

PaulNomad

15 Sep 2014 20:19

Quetzelroo Hostel- Guatemala City

What a breath of fresh air I found at Quetzalroo.
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It was early Sunday afternoon and I had chosen this hostel because of a recommendation by a rider on Horizons. Fortunately it was a mere one kilometre from the BMW shop where I was booked for a service Monday morning. The first thing I noticed was that the hostel was ultra friendly, it felt like I was staying at home with the owners Annemarie, Carlos and Isobel and there was a giant poster of Uluru on one wall in the common room along with an Australian flag and an Aussie Olympic flag hanging off the ceiling. One of the family’s sons is married to an Aussie girl and they feel really connected with Australia. I felt really connected with them.
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Still feeling unwell I lay down for a couple of hours. Annemarie was an angel, fussing over me, trying a couple of medicines, and doing what she could to make sure I was comfortable. Everyone at Quetzalroo was friendly and chatty. There was a lot of laughing and Marcos took groups out cycling, to the wrestling, out to dinner. He was the run around guy. They were so focused on the client it struck me as the perfect hostel. I stayed for three nights as I waited for my bike to be serviced.
I made some new friends like Dr Anna and it was just the place I needed.
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Meanwhile at Bavaria Motors my special bike was waiting for me - a 1961 Boxer. My year!!
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PaulNomad

15 Sep 2014 21:30

BMW Motorrad Club Guatemala Convention

Meanwhile Cisco had been in touch and told me about a BMW motorcycle convention up in the north towards Tikal. He was leaving first thing Wednesday morning with a couple of other BMW riders and invited me to join them. I had little information and didn’t know what to expect. I met him at 6.30am on Wednesday some twenty-five kilometres outside of the city.
We rode for an hour and a half back to the southern side of Lake Atitlan where we met up with the other guys. We ate a good breakfast but I was still a bit tender in the stomach.
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We hit the road through Panajachel again and headed north. We stopped for lunch in a small town and again at a bridge for a break and some more photos
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before finishing the 400km day with 30kms of dirt road.
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We stopped by a lake near the motel for some photos.
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After a quiet night in a motel at Chisec we were away by 9am for another 300kms. I liked riding with these guys. Cisco and Mike were probably a bit quicker than me and I was probably a bit quicker than the others, but we rode well as a group with no-one really too fast or too slow. We stopped a few times and eventually came to a ferry crossing at Sayaxche.
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After the crossing it was straight roads for another 50 or so kilometres to reach Santa Elena, but included a good strong tropical storm overhead that had the local small bikes crammed under shelters.
I still had little idea what the convention was all about until I arrived. In total there were 130 bikes, 95% being BMW’s with a couple of KTMs, Ducatis and a sprinkling of Japanese bikes.
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And some special guests
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This was their annual convention and it is a big formal affair with serious sponsorship and a serious turnout. Cisco somehow weaved his magic and had me attend as an honorary guest and I spent two days meeting people who said,
‘So YOU’RE the Australian.’
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I was a bit of a celebrity not only for being from so far away but also being on a three-year RTW trip.
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This was beyond the thinking of most of the guys buying big adventure bikes.
‘What about your family?’
‘How can you afford it?’
‘How can you be away from home for so long?’
‘Are you married?’
‘Where did you start your trip?’
‘Where are you going next?’
‘You FLEW your bike?’
‘You’re going to AFRICA!?’
These were the main questions thrown at me over the weekend as I met people throughout the convention.

I missed the ride to Yaxha, the key outing of the convention because I was still sick. Almost all of the bikes went and it was a big affair with media, official photos and a big group of riders. Meanwhile at the doctor’s I was diagnosed with an intestinal infection and given four different medications to get me right again. Consult and drugs - $26.
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The antibiotics started kicking in quite quickly and after resting the remainder of the day I surfaced in the evening for an official dinner where I could actually eat and was in a better shape to meet and talk with people. I had a couple of official mentions as coming all the way from Australia and my story preceded me with everyone I met. They were a great group of people and I felt very welcomed and included. It was a fun night with music and dancing after dinner.

I felt well enough for the ride the next day and I was keen to see the destination Tikal.
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I took the dirt road option with a smaller group of riders. We were taken to a refreshment stop at a restaurant down the bottom of a step and narrow gravel road with loose rocks and ruts. Ziggy lost her front footing at one point with a big rock that got wedged in front of the wheel, steering me to the edge of the road facing some bush! I had to switch back and forth with the handlebars to move the rock and get back on the track.
We reached Tikal around midday and were put into mini buses to be ferried into the sites.
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We had a couple of hours wandering around and most of the group ended up meeting at ‘Templo IV’ the tallest of the pyramids, with spectacular views over the jungle and the rest of the site. There ended up being quite a group of us and it was a fun and funny time at the top of the tallest pyramid.
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It was a really good event and I found it interesting how surprised people were at the voyage I am on. More so people were surprised at the mileage Ziggy has done – 70,000kms. To me it is just the beginning and I expect to put 200,000kms or more on her before I’m finished. Many of them have simply not been exposed to the longer distance travellers yet have the latest bikes with all the Touratech gear without realising the real purpose of these bikes. Maybe this is something I can be more involved in as a demonstration of what is possible. Gotta love a free feed or two as well!

Thanks to the organisers of BMW Motorrad Club Guatemala for your great hospitality.

PaulNomad

25 Sep 2014 01:07

Yaxha National Park

Seeing I had missed the ride to Yaxha that was my destination. First though I went to El Mirador on the other side of Lake Peten Itza where there was a beautiful view of Flores Island.
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There were 11kms of dirt road leading to Yaxha national park and once inside there was warm and humid tropical forest lining the edge of Lake Yaxha. Q80 was the entry fee regardless of whether you camped so having stocked up with a bit of food and water earlier I headed in.

The Mayan site was extensive, and beautifully maintained by the government, and it was the first time I had come to a Mayan ruin and really felt the essence of this ancient culture. It had only been excavated in 2003 – 2008 and was a complete picture of Mayan life from ceremonial temples to domestic habitations. I was here on my own, the place was largely void of tourists and I had time to walk quietly through the 160Ha site. It is set in lush jungle with howling monkeys screaming, fighting and chasing each other in the trees overhead. The roaring of the monkeys echoed throughout the site.
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I spent a couple of hours wandering around before riding the short distance to the camping area at the edge of the lake. Elevated cabanas overlooking the water were perfect as I strung up my hammock and cooked a nice camp meal of pasta. I was the only visitor.
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The ‘Super’ full moon was still lingering and made a bright night with the sound of howling monkeys seeing off the last of the light. I think they should be called growling monkeys because they growl more than howl. It was nice to be back in the hammock with just the sounds of the jungle to fill my ears.

PaulNomad

25 Sep 2014 01:36

Nakum

Yaxha is one of the sites with ruins but there are a couple of others, Nakum and Naranjo. I had seen a sign to Nakum yesterday so I packed up and headed to the turnoff.
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The 17km track for one vehicle wound into the jungle and through some rocky hills then onto the flats where I started to encounter some deep ruts from vehicles driving through the mud. Fortunately it was dry so it was just the ruts and a few holes I had to contend with. It was fun and Ziggy pushed her way through it with ease.
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It was beautiful jungle.
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Then the inevitable happened. I came across a deepish hole and in the split second I had to decide which side, I took the deeper side. As the front wheel was climbing out of the hole I gave a little push with the throttle and the front wheel kicked into the air at a bit of an angle caused by the lip of the hole. It landed awkwardly and I was just a bit off balance and over we went
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I unclipped the tank bag to give me better access to push with my hip and lifted with the handlebar technique. Up she came with a grunt (from me) and a push of the hip on the tank, Ziggy was rubber-side down again. A quick drink and straightening of mirrors, there was no damage to bike or rider so we continued on.
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The rest of the ride to Nakum was fun and much of the same with some close moments of imbalance but I arrived in one piece without another fall.
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Nakum is a seldom visited site.
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I was the only one there besides three workers who told me that they do 20 days on and 10 days back with their families. There had been no other visitors for a week. I had the site to myself and camped in the same type of elevated cabanas.
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These were the most impressive ruins I have seen so far. Not from their size or majesty but it showed to me the real everyday life of the Mayans. Having it to myself to wander around was great and I tried to picture myself 1200 years ago sitting in this same place.
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They rangers told me they had been fishing in the river and invited me over for a fish soup and tortillas. They were all young guys, away from their families and not paid much. It was a very quiet evening and once again the sounds of the jungle sang me to sleep. The workers' kitchen
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In the morning the rangers were not around the camp so I packed up and rode the 17kms back to Yaxha. Once again I had a spill during a moment of indecision as to which rut to follow.
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PaulNomad

14 Oct 2014 20:49

I left Yaxha and headed back towards Santa Elena, making a turn towards Poptun, a small railway town with a farm called Finca Ixobel. It is apparently well known and has been a halfway stop for backpackers since the 1980s.
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I opted for the campground and set up my hammock again. The only other people were a couple Charles and Christine who were on a two and a half year trip (so far) from Argentina heading north in a Toyota Landcruiser with a special living module built onto the back.
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They were great to talk with about countries, border crossings, attitude of authorities. The same type of conversation I have with other motorcycle travellers. They are definitely the same type of travellers, just on four wheels. They stayed two nights and I ended up staying three, spending the last day chilling by the beautiful pond/swimming hole behind the camping area.
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It was a stunning and peaceful spot and I could see why it has a good reputation. They provide a kitchen with a great menu including home made bread and vegetarian options. The food was delicious and plentiful, and great value. The three nights with meals cost me $50.

I decided to go to Rio Dulce next and it was a pleasant ride with a mixture of mountain curves and long tropical straights and it was easy to see that the coast was not too far away. When I arrived in Rio Dulce it was gridlocked with traffic and markets. It was hot and humid and the middle of the day so I decided to duck out of the main street and take another road I had seen leading to the river. This led to a small town with more shops but all of the access to the side of the river was blocked with private property. There was only one place to access the river but they wanted Q15 for parking and I was only there for a quick look. I decided that Rio Dulce wasn’t going to work for me so I took a road that led to Coban.

It was actually a giant loop of several hundred kilometres to go right around to Coban then back to Semuc Champey and I hoped that this road that split through the middle of the loop would save me some time. Wrong. It started well with normal paved roads through small towns then there were some rocky gravel roads that became more frequent.
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These led to some nice stretches of concreted road surface, which in turn suddenly ended and became rutty, rocky climbs and descents into the mountains. Recent rain caused small streams and ruts and puddles across the road in places, then as the road continued, I found myself climbing on narrow rough gravel roads with a drop to my right and cars and trucks coming the other way.

The whole trip went for over 100kms with a good eighty on this type of rough mountainous track. The last twenty kilometres was a crazy climb through two small towns high up in the mountains, culminating with about ten kilometres of concreted road.
I came to the turnoff south of Coban and enjoyed the winding descent on highway to the city centre. I looked around for accommodation and ended up finding a large guest house/hotel that had been operating since 1880. It had a beautiful garden, long established by the owner’s grandmother, with comfortable beds in large and well appointed rooms, including a shower with pressure AND hot water. All for $20 a night.
Sometimes I just don't remember to stop and take photos!!!

PaulNomad

15 Oct 2014 00:20

Semuc Champey

I have been noticing a bit of a problem with Ziggy. She has been going through engine oil at quite a rate after having not used a drop between oil changes for the last two years. When I had the service two weeks and 2000kms ago they topped up the oil and now I had to top it up again. A few times I have started her to a rattling sound in the front that goes after a couple of revs on the throttle. The recurring brake light problem was back again especially after some time on rough dirt roads. I’ve decided to go back to BMW at Guatemala City to get it looked at.
So after finding some oil and topping up half a litre, checking and finding no oil leaks, I headed towards Semuc Champey. I had been told there was a bit of gravel road to get there. Also I was keen to follow up the recommendation for Utopia, a hostel in the area. It was a fun and scenic ride into the mountains on well-maintained bitumen, winding along the side of a mountain
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until…suddenly there was a hairpin turn and a winding downhill, loose-rock and gravel road. It was ok and well maintained and wide enough for two vehicles, good for the cars and buses coming the other way.

A glimpse of the road from above.
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The road wound its way down and down becoming steeper and narrower in places and finally not getting any wider after the small town of Lanquin.
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Eventually it became a crumbly single lane winding down then up with each becoming steeper than the other. Some of the downhill sections were so steep they had a pair of parallel concrete strips for car wheels. One driver in a four wheel drive started driving up the strips as I was coming down. It was gravel and a drop off to my side so I had nowhere to go off the concrete. Finally he veered off the strip to let me pass. The vehicle after him blindly followed and simply smiled at my annoyed blaring of the horn in his face. :funmeterno:

At this stage I was too glued to the bike to stop and take photos.
After about twenty kilometres of deteriorating road and near misses with vehicles coming the other way I saw a sign for two kilometres to Semuc Champey and one to Utopia the other way. Excellent.

I took the Utopia turn and incredibly the road became worse. The surface was rough and sharp stone and the ascents and descents became even steeper with sharp and blind corners.

This was some of the better road
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I was in first gear on the footpegs going up and down. The road narrowed and wound through some micro villages and local Mayan people were walking along the road that was lined with tall corn plants. I wondered if I had missed the turn and I was feeling that if the roads became any worse I would be past my limits. Every precipice before a descent was like looking over the edge of a cliff. Finally after a particularly loose and challenging ascent I came to a right hand turn to Utopia. The last challenge was the steep driveway. I made it!:clap:
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I hope it really is Utopia after that ride. Without doubt the most challenging and scary ride I have ever done.

victorWP

7 Dec 2014 14:26

Hi
Will you come to Spain on the future?

PaulNomad

11 Jan 2015 23:42

Quote:

Originally Posted by victorWP (Post 488048)

Hi
Will you come to Spain on the future?

Yes Victor. Next year after I finish South America I'll head to Europe!

PN

PaulNomad

12 Jan 2015 00:09

Guatemala - sorting some issues

Apologies for lack of posts!!

Having conquered the road to Semuc Champey and avoided a journey ending injury on the river I turned my mind to a growing concern about Ziggy. The oil problem had to be looked at. Usually the only three reasons an engine will use oil is an external leak, leaking past the piston rings or leaking past the valve seals. There was no external leak and both other options had dollar signs attached. I couldn’t believe these things would be worn at the mileage I had done but I had no other explanation.

I made my way back to Guatemala City and booked Ziggy into Bavaria Motors the next day after explaining the issues with one of the non-mechanic guys. I didn’t have a lot of confidence in passing the information on second hand to the mechanic as the English was not really good enough for what I needed. The next day they had the bike for the full day and I was told by text message at 5pm that the rattling sound was due to low oil and they wanted to top up the oil.

I had a bit of a text dummy-spit with the poor guy, saying that it was unacceptable because the low oil was a symptom not a cause. I was conerned they would put mineral oil in again etc. So I told them to do nothing and I would come down in the morning. Fortunately I had previously met the rider trainer Jose, and he spoke perfect English. Jose helped me out the next day and surprisingly I had a discussion with the head mechanic and the technician for almost an hour and they allayed my fears.

The story goes something like this. I have been using synthetic oil in the motor for 40,000kms and it builds up a coating over the moving parts to form a buffer that stops wear and tear. When I was in Mexico I had an oil change at Guadalajara through the BMW dealer. It is normal in this part of the world to use mineral oil (the natural stuff) not synthetic so he didn’t think to ask. I only realised after he had changed it and I had some concerns at the time.

Now mineral oil is made up of molecules that are different sizes, some small and some large. It is a little more abrasive than synthetic oil that has exactly uniform-sized molecules. It seems that using mineral oil after long term use of synthetic oil can scratch the coating created by the synthetic oil. When I changed back to synthetic oil, the smaller molecules travelled through the scratches created by the larger molecules, accessing the combustion chamber and burning. Hence a higher consumption of oil.

Now this was explained to me by the mechanics so I ran the explanation by my Australian mechanic who I use as my BMW guru. He agreed that it was a plausible and likely explanation. All agreed that a few thousand kms using synthetic oil will seal up the ‘scratches’ and the oil consumption will reduce, hopefully back to where it was, which was nil. Eventually this was indeed the case and Ziggy never used a drop of oil later.

At the same time I had been having a periodic loud noise from the front of the engine when I start it. It has happened five times. To my surprise and relief the mechanics found a faulty alternator belt tensioner that was replaced and now is running normally.

No pictures but Ziggy is back to normal!!

PaulNomad

12 Jan 2015 00:34

Guatemala -Last Days

Once the work was done, I went for a Saturday morning ride with Jose (the instructor from Bavaria Motors) and twenty other riders, from Guatemala city to Lake Atitlan.
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It is awesome riding with a group and it made a big impact on the little towns that we visited on the way.
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We stopped for a nice breakfast along the way.
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Then stopped in at San Marcos at Lake Atitlan.
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I stayed in San Marcos with my good friend Cisco at his waterside house. It was a nice relaxing weekend sitting and staring at the volcanoes across the lake.
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The carport
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The front verandah
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Sometimes it's easier to build around the rock...
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The view
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Lake Atitlan is a very tranquil place near where I started my journey in Guatemala but now I was in my last weekend, getting ready to ride to El Salvador. But Guatemala had one more challenge for me. First the driveway,
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which I negotiated without a hitch, but the steep twisty road to this view
saw me fall for the fifth time in Guatemala, this time on the tar. Missed another photo op!
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El Salvador beckons.

PaulNomad

12 Jan 2015 00:42

E Salvador - Crossing from Guatemala

El Salvador has long been of interest to me partly because it has a history of violence and civil war that it is healing from and partly because there are not so many people I meet that have come here. People often tend to go through Honduras and Nicaragua and pass by here because I think the name conjures up some fear with the reputation of the notorious M13 gang and the violent history. The more I read about the country the more interested I became. Once again my attitude is to be a friendly smiling face who will talk to anyone and show respect for them and their culture. So far that approach has created nothing but positive interactions with people along the way. I don’t expect El Salvador to be any different.

I approached the town of Pedro de Alvarado looking for the Aduana. It was easy to find due to a long line of trucks that I rode past to the front of the line. I was waved on to a security guard who checked my papers and sent me to the immigration office in the same building. I made a new ‘friend’ who wanted to help me and was explaining how many copies I needed of what and where to go. I found that my Spanish has improved enough to move through the process quite easily and the friend soon realised I was capable of sorting out myself. He still hung around like a seagull for chips but in twenty minutes I had my passport and temporary import permit stamped for exit, photocopies of everything and smiles from the helpful officials. No costs, no approaches for bribes.

I rode the one kilometre to the border and was directed to the immigration building in La Hachadura. A man with a little English met me and explained that I needed photocopies of my documents. He was the photocopier owner. He was correct and the copies were a couple of dollars as El Salvador uses US dollars as it’s official currency. I went into the Aduana office to a window where they took my copies, checked the originals and started the entry paperwork. In about 45 minutes all was finished and the last process was to stop and give a very attractive female attendant $5 for entry into the country. Every vehicle is charged this. Less than two hours and I was riding through El Salvador. Easy, friendly, painless and honest.

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PaulNomad

18 Jan 2015 15:21

El Salvador - Parque Imposible

It was a short ride to the little town of San Francisco Menedez on the river of the same name and the entrance to the El Imposible National Park. I just liked the name.
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I walked to the office/house nearby and decided I would camp, I told them I wanted to go for a walk in the park in the morning. I was let in and rode fifty metres along some smooth river stones that lined the roadway and I set up camp amidst a group of guys playing soccer on a dirt and rock flattened pad just off the road.
I set up my tent to the inquisitive stares of some ten or twelve guys aged from around 16 to 40, and a couple of young kids. It was humid and I was hot after taking my riding gear off and erecting the tent, so I assembled my chair and their faces were gold. They had never seen anything like a fold up aluminium chair before and in fact it had amazed people who know about such things.
I sat and watched them run fearlessly barefoot over the rocks and dirt kicking a very hard small soccer ball. The kicked it hard. These guys are tough.
Didn't think to grab the camera unfortunately.

I had a great conversation with some guys before they headed off as it was getting dark. I think we all had a mutual respect for each other and they didn’t see me as any sort of threat nor I them. A few guys stayed around as I pulled out my fuel stove, lit it and started warming some beans and tuna. They were captivated by my little modern firemaker.

One guy asked if I had tortillas and once he realised I didn’t, he ran off to his house, returning a few minutes later with two piping hot, freshly made tortillas.

Half an hour later the young guy who had brought me tortillas returned and sat for a while. We chatted about his family and life and the community. A lot of people lived along the entranceway to the national park, many families. He lived with his parents still and he was 25 years old. He pointed to a house where his grandparents live and explained that all his uncles, aunties and cousins lived in the area. He wasn’t related to everyone there and he told me that there were plenty of girls to choose from in the area but he was single at the moment. He didn’t work because there wasn’t enough work for all the men.

The next gesture really surprised me. He was carrying a pair of shoes and he offered them to me. I didn’t fully understand the story with the shoes but he was concerned that I was walking in the park with my sandals and that these shoes were tougher and a lot more suitable. I tried them on and they were a perfect fit. He wanted no money for them and he wanted me to keep them. After a while he left and I didn’t see him again.

In the morning I made some breakfast and packed up a few things to go for the walk. I wasn’t sure how big the park was or how long it would take so I left my tent up. I was nearly ready when a woman came up to me with a National Parks shirt and cap and told me her name is Ana and she will be my guide. My guide? Why not I thought.
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I was ready in another five minutes and we started up a rocky path that became steeper as we went.
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We passed a small village of houses but soon were in the park boundaries where no-one else lived. Ana spoke no English but I was able to understand a lot of what she was saying. She described many of the trees and bushes with their local and scientific names and explained what they were used for. The jungle is a complete pharmacy and she knew all about them. It was fascinating hearing her impart her knowledge.
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After 5kms including a river crossing across rocks and changing trails several times,

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we reached a small track leading to a lookout with great views to the ocean.
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Ana described the boundaries of the park and what we were looking at in different directions.
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There was no possible way I could have found this alone. We made our way back and she explained that there was a donation involved for the guide, normally $10. I gave her $15 because I enjoyed the tour and she was very knowledgeable. The jungle here is in beautiful condition with large numbers of species of animals and plants but apparently that is a rarity in El Salvador due to land clearing.

PaulNomad

18 Jan 2015 15:34

El Salvador - Pacific Coast

I didn’t travel far, only about 80 kilometres and stopped at a beach Playa Los Cobanos that I had marked to visit. It was a small fishing village right on the beach with a ramshackle series of thatched cabanas adjoining each other. The bike got lots of stares and I really just wanted a coffee but all that was on offer was instant and I have some of that with me. Eventually I asked about a hostel and I was directed to a nice place down the beach with parking behind a large fence and steel-sheet gate. It had a pool and was right on the beach. The rooms were $59 but they had a dorm for $10. I was the only one in the dorm.
It was a busy beach with lots of fishing boats
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I hired some snorkling gear for a couple of hours to swim around the rocky reefs but it was low tide and looked like this most of the time.
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I followed the very interesting looking road along the coast with its bends and tunnels and local agriculture.
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Drying corn on the road
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While there is a genuine attempt to educate the population on recycling there is still some way to go.
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I stayed a couple of nights in El Tunco, a renowned surfing beach.
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While I was there a brown stain washed down the river from a recent thunderstorm and at the time it made it not very nice to swim in but over subsequent days there was a huge fish die-off due to lack of oxygen and I heard that for the following two weeks the place stank of rotting fish. Real shame for such a nice place.
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Black sand
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PaulNomad

18 Jan 2015 15:48

It was getting towards the end of the week and I wanted to meet up with some BMW riders from Santa Ana (El Salvador) who I had met in Guatemala. I rode away from the coast and headed into the mountains and back to the west. I took the opportunity to check out Lake Coatepeque, another stunning volcanic lake with volcanoes in the background.
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I went for a ride around the lake then up to the hills around it, meeting some locals along the way.
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I took a turnoff to Cerre Verde, a national park up at the top of one of the volcanoes. It was a relatively clear day but as I climbed higher it became cloudier.
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I arrived at the top and was taken on a guided walk to see a view of the lake and the adjoining mountain.
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As we started the walk a large cloud moved in to obscure the view.
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It was still a beautiful walk through the rainforest with old trees,
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but eventually I walked back to the bike and headed downhill towards Santa Ana. On the way it rained a little, then I noticed that my trusty steed was finally run in.
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By the time I was down at lake level the rain had stopped and I found my way to La Casa Verde in Santa Ana. It was a top-class hostel, friendly, clean and cheap – with inside parking – so I booked in.
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With visitors from all over
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And cheap beer
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The next day went wandering through the lively little town with its fresh produce.

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I left the Green House and owner Carlos after two nights to meet up with David, a BMW rider I met in Guatemala. After a couple of failed attempts at directions and finding his restaurant I gave up because I didn’t have phone connection, it was starting to rain and I was riding in circles. I headed towards the Ruta de Las Flores, one of many specified routes in El Salvador to explore unique features of the country. I eventually found my way to the smaller roads through the mountains.

PaulNomad

22 Jan 2015 14:39

El Salvador - Ruta De La Flores

To say the Ruta de Las Flores is spectacular is an understatement. Even in this season without flowers, mile after mile has manicured roadsides with lush vegetated mountains.
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Not only lush but planned and arranged in patterns of mature plants that checkerboard the hillsides.
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Green, mature, tropical, it was an outstanding ride through what I can see is a special place. The pride in the massive gardens of this area is apparent. It is clean, the roads are good and the people friendly.
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I tend to wave and smile at people as I go anyway but here it was different. Almost every person waved back with a big smile. No looking at me strangely, no turning their heads away but a big engaged grin and wave. In fact they seemed to love it that I was making the effort. The elderly, kids, almost everyone responded the same way.
The rain had stopped and the roads were dry but it was a grey day with low light. I can only imagine what this place looks like in full bloom and sunshine. How is this not a targeted destination? I think the reputation of El Salvador is a disaster for the country and her people. It’s a place that has come out of its dark times, has great roads and small cities with all the facilities and modern infrastructure, yet the small towns are beautifully simple and El Salvadorian with pupusas – tortillas stuffed with cheese and beans – at roadside vendors. The beaches in the west are full of traditional fishermen and boys, with the surf waves building up along the centre of the coastline, attracting surfers from all over the world, to the long empty stretches of clean breaking surf to the east. Tricky to get access but worth the effort.
The Ruta de Las Flores was ending so I stopped to buy bananas from a woman and her grandchild with a small table outside their house. She was just so lovely with a big warm smile and she kept taking my hand to shake it. I put the little guy on the bike and they took a photo with their phone.
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They were so chuffed that she gave me two fruits with big seeds and pink flesh, like a custard apple. That generosity again!

PaulNomad

22 Jan 2015 14:53

El Salvador - More Coastal Therapy

After Ruta De Las Flores I turned towards the mountains and Sonorata. It was a ride up the big roads again to the mountains then easterly back towards San Salvador. I made a turnoff to wind through the mountains and small villages again but it was getting later in the afternoon and I needed to get to the beach and find accommodation so after half an hour I turned back towards the six lane highway heading to the airport.
It was a great downhill run with largely empty roads being a Sunday and I clicked Ziggy into sixth gear to give her a bit of a run. Oops. I was waved over by police who showed me that I was doing 106km/h.
‘What is the speed limit?’
‘In all El Salvador the maximum is 90.’
‘Sorry I didn’t see a sign.’
‘There is a sign at the top of the hill’.
Ok I was busted. But as usual they were interested in the bike and I explained to the policeman who spoke to me in English that it has ABS with the brakes and tyres in good condition and although I was speeding it is quite capable of stopping quickly from that speed. He was a bit amused but he was also friendly and seeing my papers were in order and that I was a traveller from Australia I guess they concluded that it was pointless fining me because I was leaving the country soon. They let me go with a caution, one that I heeded now I was aware of the speed limit. I really hadn’t seen a single sign since arriving and I was often overtaken.

It was approaching 5pm as I pulled into the town of Playa San Marcelino. I rode around the town and there wasn’t much in the way of hotels and no hostel. I was stopped by a spruker as I rode towards the beach and discovered that hotels start at US$50 a night. I had a chuckle and kept going. I rode a bit further down the coast and found another hotel that was a bit rundown and not so inviting but right on the beach. Same price. I decided that I would have to go to another town to find a hostel.
The hotel attendant asked me what price I was looking for. I explained that I was a traveller on a budget.
‘My budget is $15.’
He shook his head a few times so I took my guide book out of the tank bag and started looking at nearby options. A couple of minutes later he approached me again.
‘Come with me. Follow me. Bring your moto.’
He led me three doors down to a large white concrete wall with a metal gate where an armed guard answered his knock. I followed them in but Ziggy decided to not start. No lights on the dash, no power anywhere. I was thinking that it was the battery, hoping it had not suddenly given up without warning. I rolled her inside and an old semi-derelict resort opened up in front of me. Jose led me to three rooms, opened the first and said,
‘I can see you are different, you can stay here.’
‘What is the cost here?’
‘Whatever you think.’
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There were beds with linen, electricity and airconditioning but no water. Jose then invited me to come to the other hotel later to use the internet. I walked to the other end of the property and an extensive, amazing, empty unspoilt beach opened up in front of me.
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I was right on the beach and I started having visions of opening this place as a hostel and wondering who owned it and how much I could get it for.
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Strange thoughts for a nomad and first time it has happened to me. This place is paradise. I walked along the beach in both directions for a while and it soon became apparent that it is a privilege to have beach access. It is all private access with houses and hotels built up to a line back from the beach. No obvious access for the public.

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PaulNomad

22 Jan 2015 15:24

El Salvador - Costa Del Sol

Getting back to Ziggy I tried again putting the key in but again there was no power to anything. I removed my luggage and the seat to access the battery. I wriggled the positive terminal and fortunately the power resumed. The terminal wasn’t exactly loose but wasn’t as tight as the other. I noticed the connectors were also a bit dirty. I removed them and filed them to a shiny brass colour then tightened them on well.
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Sure enough Ziggy jumped back into life. Even on a high tech bike some basics need doing such as cleaning battery terminals!

I decided in the morning was a good time to attend to a couple of other maintenance issues that I noticed on the bike but hadn’t done anything about. For some time the manual adjustment of the rear shock absorber had been getting more and more difficult to move. I checked and it was completely seized. :oops2:
The left hand mirror had been knocked out of place with one of my falls and the wind guards on the hand grips were not really guarding me from the wind, they needed to be a little higher.

The suspension adjuster was really stuck. I had just bought a tin of spray in Santa Ana two days before. I worked on the adjuster for a good ten minutes making very little headway. I didn’t have the correct sized shifting spanner to pull the mechanism off so I sprayed as much lube spray as I could into the thread. I let it sit overnight and in the morning the adjuster had loosened up enough to gradually work it loose. It took another fifteen minutes but finally I was able to turn through the forty plus clicks of adjustment. I undid and adjusted the mirrors and hand guards, evening up both sides and tightening all the screws properly. Little maintenance things and adjustments make such a difference to the riding. I had neglected them a bit so I sought out all of the springs and moving parts and gave them a little spray to keep them lubricated.:scooter:

I was raised near the beach in Sydney and it was a prominent part of my upbringing. I sometimes forget how energising it is to walk along a deserted beach with waves crashing, the breeze off the sea-water filling my nostrils with the salty fresh smell and sea spray forming a haze over the white foam as the waves break far along the coastline. So far El Salvador beaches are matching many I’ve seen in Australia in the remote tropical regions. Beautiful. El Salv-adorable. :funmeteryes:

I loaded up Ziggy and followed the road to the end of the peninsula, another fifteen or so kilometres. It ended where a large river meets the sea. It reminded me of the Maroochydore River in Queensland in the 1970s. Wide and wild flowing the ocean, crashing onto unspoilt beaches that stretched as far as the eye can see.
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There was a small town sporting makeshift restaurants with thatched roofs on the banks of the river just above the tide line.
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I picked a restaurant, or let’s say I was herded into it by a spruker, and although I was hungry I had spotted some small roadside kitchens along the way that appealed to me. Once again it is off season and a week day so there are few people around and all the vendors focus on who is present, me.
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I bought a coffee and set myself up in a hammock overlooking the wide flowing river, in the distance I could see the white crashing foam of the sea as it collided with the river flow. I think I dozed off for half an hour. So serene, so peaceful, so perfect.
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I dragged myself away and backtracked along the coast and turned inland back to the mountains.
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In Guatemala, Cisco had recommended a place called La Tortuga Verde – The Green Turtle – a turtle protection project with a hostel and environmental resort. It was a long way around to get there and I rode more than 200kms, arriving at Playa Cuco at around 5pm. There was a sign to continue for another three kilometres and after a bit of a dirt road I pulled into a driveway to be confronted by the biggest flag in El Salvador.
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PaulNomad

29 Jan 2015 02:43

La Tortuga Verde

I booked into the hostel and noticed two other travel bikes, another 1200GSA and a Kawasaki KLR 650 with British rider Jamie on a surfing riding tour.
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I checked out the BMW to see where the plates were from, El Salvador, then I was approached by a tall guy with long dreadlocks.
‘Is this your bike?’
‘Yes. My name is Rory.’
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‘No way!’ I explained that Cisco My friend in Guatemala) had told me to keep a look out for him as Rory had stayed with Cisco as he was travelling through Guatemala. Cisco struggled to understand why Rory had only made it to El Salvador and stayed for nearly two years. Rory is a surfer and when I saw this place it became immediately apparent to me. Not only was this as much of a paradise as the place I stayed last night but it was even less busy, longer beaches and a regular turtle laying area.
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I knew right away I was going to stay a couple of nights at least and I was finding a strong pull from El Salvador to stay longer. When I find places like this I have to remind myself that I’m on a world motorcycle trip and at some point I have to leave. Ok, only two nights. Well maybe three. It didn’t help when Rory told me that if I book in for two weeks I get the following two weeks free. Also I can volunteer at the turtle sanctuary and that contributes to my accommodaton…
One week later I managed to drag myself away from this paradise. Beachfront living with a pool,
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massage, great company,
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surfing if I want
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and cheap local seafood. It doesn’t get much better. I didn’t need to rest from my travels but being involved in baby turtle releases
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projects to improve their chances, egg burying,
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filming duties on their GoPro
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Observing female turtles laying eggs on the beach
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and engagement with the local media were all fun and good feeling things to do.
Aussies and Brits seem to gravitate to the beach more than in the mountains and I’ve hung out with some wonderful travellers and really enjoyed their company.
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La Tortuga Verde is a great destination and I can’t recommend it enough. As if it couldn't get any better, mother nature put on a show of storms and sunsets.

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Many thanks to Tom and staff and ongoing volunteers for sharing your passion and expertise with me.
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PaulNomad

2 Feb 2015 22:35

El Salvador - More bike issues! Beautiful La Palma

Leaving La Tortuga Verde, I was all loaded up, turned the key, clicked into neutral, pushed the start button. Click…then nothing. Battery again. It’s not an easy thing to remove my seat to access the battery with the way I have the luggage set up so I had to undo all of my strapping to get in and jiggle the battery terminals, then pack it all up again once it started. I had to go to San Salvador and get this sorted, and I needed to fix my new problem of the burnt out headlight wires. My plan to visit some other places including a nearby waterfall had to change and my plan NOT to go to San Salvador also had to change.

San Salvador didn’t really endear me with crazy traffic, crazier roadworks, thick air pollution and lots of noise. I found the recommended hostel but I can’t forward on the recommendation because I didn’t find it very friendly or welcoming. However when I met with Rafael the mechanic at San Salvador BMW, who spoke English, I was reassured and the bike was booked in to get fixed.
He tested the battery and told me that I will probably need a new one but I could just see how long it lasted. I didn’t heed the urgency.
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The next day I rode out to Suchitoto, a quaint town by an enormous reservoir, Lago Suchitlan,
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and as I arrived Ziggy died again. I found my way to a hotel and decided to return to San Salvador the next day and leave my luggage at Suchitoto.
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In the morning on the way back to San Salvador I broke down on the side of the road for the first time.
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I was stranded. Fortunately there was a delivery truck nearby and the guys used their phone to call Rafael who sent out the recovery crew. Three hours later I was back in San Salvador with Ziggy on a trailer. Such a sad sight.
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A couple of hours later we found a new battery and she was up and running again. The guys at San Salvador BMW were great and didn’t charge me the earth.
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I rode back to Suchitoto and stayed my second night. It was an interesting town with difficult to find views of the lake which was a shame because when I did find them they were spectacular. The centerpiece of the town was the large white church in the centre square.
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There were a lot of Spanish-looking buildings and a good selection of eating places, the ones near the square being real tourist prices but a couple of streets away a Fonda served ‘typico salvadoreno’ food. Cheap and delicious. Napoleon and his family at the Los Sanchez Hostel/Hotel were excellent hosts with a great place and cheap prices. Parking for the bike but no Internet. There was wifi nearby so not a problem.
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The next morning I rode a short distance to the lake to take the ferry across to go to a town called Chalatenango. They advertised $4 for motorbikes for the crossing but he charged me six, saying it was a big motorbike. It wasn't exactly booming business.
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I tried to negotiate but he was surly character with too many years driving the ferry, so I paid the six and got on my way.
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It was a hilly rise away from the lake and a pleasant ride leading to great views for the twenty or so kilometres to the next main town.
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Chalatenango was not easy to locate, then harder to find the centre and when I did it was thick with traffic and hot. I stopped for some lunch but the place didn’t grab me so decided to get closer to the border of Honduras and check out the town of La Palma.
Now La Palma did grab me. The town was painted with colourful murals with the centre square being the centerpiece of the art. I walked the town and took fifty photos, every mural outshining the previous.

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I spoke to a few people and told them how good it looked and they were happy to hear it. The La Palma Hotel was similarly coloured and the owner was very welcoming and friendly, providing a beautiful setting for my last night in El Salvador. There was good security for the bike, Internet, a restaurant and it was quiet.
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PaulNomad

2 Feb 2015 22:44

El Salvador - Summary

It’s so sad that El Salvador’s reputation keeps people away. I had a great time there. From the first night when I camped at Parque El Imposible where I was given a pair of shoes from a guy who had nothing, to my last night at La Palma where the colourful murals put a big smile on my face. People were quick with a smile and a wave, friendly, helpful, generous, humble and I have to say I found the girls very pretty. The beaches were beautiful and I highly recommend La Tortuga Verde as a destination at El Cuco. You will find the best sunsets in Central America.:welcome:

Get hold of the map that colour-codes the ten or so ‘Rutas’ and enjoy the drives. Ruta De Las Flores is world class, even before everything is in bloom. Other rutas take you through volcanic areas, along artisanal trails and more. The coastal road with its twisty bends, views of the coast and tunnels is a great ride.:mchappy: :palm:

With the US Dollar as currency, cost calculations are easy. Food was cheap and tasty, with my food vocabulary extended to include pupusas. Accommodation was easy and cheap. Good quality dorm rooms at hostels are $10 with standout places again being La Tortuga Verde in the east and Casa Verde in Santa Ana. bier

The police stopped me three times. Once for a licence check, once for doing 106 in a 90 km/h area, and a third for doing an illegal u-turn. Each time I was let go with a warning (the first was no problem) because I’m a bit naughty by speaking only in English, feigning (or not) lack of understanding Spanish, smiling a lot and shaking their hands. Being Australian is always a good ice breaker with a little demo of how a kangaroo jumps. I think they get it that I’m not going to pay and I’ll be out of the country soon. They were always polite, professional and there was never a hint of asking for bribes. I think I just make it too hard for them and usually they smile and shake their heads. Body language is international! :scooter:

Finally the roads are excellent and the drivers are amongst the most polite I have encountered in Central America. Buses are respectful, unlike in Guatemala. Not so many people can afford cars so there is not much traffic. The only exception is San Salvador which I found confusing, gridlocked and just horrible to ride through. :funmeterno:

There are many places I didn’t get to see because of some issues with the bike but three weeks will just get you to most of the sites. You may want to stay longer if you enjoy lying around in a hammock by the beach. BIG thumbs up for El Salvador!! :funmeteryes::clap::thumbup1:
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guzzi vince

4 Feb 2015 20:27

Quote:

Originally Posted by PaulNomad (Post 494329)

There are many places I didn’t get to see because of some issues with the bike but three weeks will just get you to most of the sites. You may want to stay longer if you enjoy lying around in a hammock by the beach. BIG thumbs up for El Salvador!! :funmeteryes::clap::thumbup1:
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Hi Paul, first off a belated happy new year or in the case of the Chinese, a happy Chinese new year .... anyway good excuse for a beer.

Been reading yer posts, El Salvador sounds like a nice place to visit, also the La Tortuga Verde. Green turtles, they must be from Ireland or mars .... kinda the same in a way mmmmnnnnn :smiliex: But am gonna visit. you paint a nice picture of the place.

Am planning a trip ... Pan American so am reading up on all the info that I can get. So will sometimes pop up & annoy you :clap: Like you I will be mostly travelling alone :cool2: Which has it's advantages & disadvantages :thumbup1:

Anyways Paul thanks for sharing & gonna be tagging along :scooter:

Have fun, stay safe & keep the rubber side down. :D Regards Vince

PaulNomad

9 Feb 2015 00:29

Quote:

Originally Posted by guzzi vince (Post 494574)

Hey Vince

First mate, thanks for following!! It's definitely a journey. Way behind on the blogging so lots more 'jammed-packed action' coming up haha. Nobody told me how hard it is to keep the blogging going! :oops2:

The Americas have been a great place to travel. I'd recommend an adventure here to anyone. Take as much time as you can in Mexico and don't rush Central America. My best moments have been off the tourist trail with time up my sleeve to respond to whatever the journey throws at me.

Good luck with the planning and any questions, fire away. Legible answers not guaranteed haha!!

Cheers
Paul

PaulNomad

9 Feb 2015 00:38

One Year on the Road

Well today (Feb 6) marks one year since I loaded Ziggy onto a plane from Brisbane to LA. Actually once I left work I rode the second half of Australia from Dec 2013 and haven’t stopped since except for Christmas with the family, so that’s gotta count…14mths. Then again I left Brisbane in Nov 2012 to ride around Australia and stopped to work for 11 months, so not sure if that counts. That would be 27 months travelling!!

Whatever, it’s now a long while I’ve been on the road and the year is a milestone I wanted to reach. I had always read that after a year on the road it is like a transition. All your recent memory is now about travel, work is a distant memory and the motorcycle seat feels like the couch you come home to every day. Most nights are in a different place and the motels, hostels and hospedajes start to merge. The list of contacts and facebook friends is burgeoning and the odometer is heading for the ton. Family are watching from afar but life goes on as usual for them until the next SPOT email comes through with the new location. Friends from home remember about you from time to time and send an email asking ‘Where in the world is Paul?’

After a year, the countries you’ve been through roll off your tongue after telling your story daily to the new people you meet. They ask the same questions – how much, how far, how long, how?? But their hospitality and generosity never fails to humble as complete strangers invite you into their home, tell you about their country, state, town, feed you and invite the family around to meet you. It’s celebrity status whether you want it or not. It’s not possible to be a passive observer on this journey because you are the anomaly. You have come into their world on this wild machine with all your belongings stacked high and wide, living a life that is incredulous to hard working, poorly paid locals in developing countries, with no concept of making more money than is required to feed their family that day.

They love motorcycles. They all have them. They can all ride. Their roads are sometimes packed with more motorcycles than cars. They understand that a motorcycle is under 200ccs with a kickstart and chain, something that can be easily manhandled into any position. But what is this 300kg behemoth with a shaft drive and 1200ccs? How can you ride something that big? The looks on the faces, the thumbs up, the stares of wonder and confusion, the excitement of the kids, the fluttering of eyes from young girls that have a dream, the open mouth of drivers swerving into your lane while they stare at you…it puts you in the spotlight.

A year on the road and you reflect on the landscapes, cities, the food, the stomach upsets, the changing faces. Can you have too much of this? Tall mountains still never fail to delight, stunning coastlines still invite you to kick off the boots for a swim, remote landscapes still beckon you to stop and set up the tent, busy cities with their frenetic traffic and markets still never fail to amuse. Find a road with nice bitumen and well engineered bends and it is a dream day. Find a road that becomes a trail and takes you to some unexpected village or view, another dream day. Every new day is an adventure. Every new day brings new people, new places, often new foods, always new friends. Life takes on the wonderment of a young child discovering their world day by day, amazed by the colours and textures of something new.

The routines become obsessive. Roll the clothes, pack the bags and cases with everything in exactly the right place. Tie things down exactly where they belong. Check everything is secure. Check the bike starts. Check tyre pressures. Check the paperwork is in the right pockets, enough cash is on hand for the day. Pants, boots – yes those socks are only on day three – jacket helmet gloves. Check and set the GPS to some vague goal for the day. Same when you stop. Switch off the motor, keys in the same pocket – always – lock the tank bag, gloves in the helmet, sunnies on the head and walk over to a seat at the little roadside fonda for a fresh juice or a coke. Everything back on for the next leg. At the end of the day take the overnight bag into the hotel or unpack the camping gear, secure the loose straps, lock the boxes, cable through the wheel and cover the bike. You know every clip, lock, strap and knot like an old friend.

You are in a close bonded relationship with this machine that is your ship carrying you on an incredible journey. You know the sound of her motor and the minute something is wrong. Two wheels rolling along the world’s roads, tracks and landscapes for hundreds of thousands of kilometres. Feeling every bump – every speed hump – every change of surface, every rock, every pothole, every patch of sand and every slip in the mud. Riding in 40C+ or freezing, you feel every degree. The sun burns your face arms and hands. You put on your cool weather gear and it gets hot. You put on your warm weather gear and it gets cold. The wind blows you around and stabs your eyes with particles of dust and sand. You eat the dust of trucks and choke on clouds of black diesel smoke. The rain can change your day; from a light sprinkle making the oily roads slippery to the miserable downpours that last for hours and you just keep plodding through knowing at the end of the day you can pour the water out of your boots. You change with the weather. You sweat, bake, shiver and drown.

Yet through it all you know what you are doing is special. A dollar for every person that says they are jealous would keep me going for another year. I never stop feeling privileged, grateful, thankful and happy that I have this amazing opportunity. Living the dream. Not just mine but all the people reading about my journey waiting for their turn to fulfil their dream. And that’s important to me too. Paying it forward to the people that will one day get the opportunity to ride their own adventure on two wheels. Sharing the experience, not just keeping it to myself.

Thanks for following, it makes the trip even more special.

PN

PaulNomad

18 Feb 2015 16:16

Honduras - Entry

I always get a bit anxious…not really the right word, maybe strong butterflies…before entering another country. Honduras had long held a bit of wonder for me because it has a bad reputation for being dangerous and besides Copan Ruinas and the island of Utila in the Caribbean, other travellers haven’t had have much good to say about it. Then again they haven’t been to other areas. The second largest city, San Pedro de Sula, has a well advertised reputation as the most dangerous city in the world. :oops2:

I’ve only really had two people say anything positive about Honduras and they had travelled to other areas outside the bigger cities. This is the country facing me tomorrow. I’ve done too little research and I’m trying to push out all expectations and take it as I find it.
I read on Horizons Unlimited about a few experiences people had crossing into Honduras, particularly from El Salvador.
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Most were stories of it being expensive and questions about the genuineness of the fees. My experience was fine. The process to leave El Salvador was simple with my exit being recorded on the immigration computer in a couple of minutes. Next I spoke to the Aduana (customs) who stamped my paperwork to leave and sent me for a copy of all the documents. Another 15 minutes.
I crossed the border and stopped at the immigration office.
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They gave me the balance of the 90 days for the four countries of Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras and Nicaragua – 37 days. Stamped, I rode the 200 metres to the Aduana office
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where the helpful and English speaking officer spent the best part of an hour doing all the paperwork, including me obtaining three copies of everything, before stamping Ziggy in for 90 days. Total cost was 540 Lempira ($27). I had the right amount of Lempiras and I think that made it cheaper because his original figure was around $36, which itself was still cheaper than what I had read. :thumbup1:

I was in Honduras. :mchappy: Heading north it was already midday and I was enjoying the scenery of a new country. In my mind’s eye I didn’t have a picture of what Honduras would look like and I was pleasantly surprised to see it was green and mountainous.
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Not big mountains but fringing the horizon in all directions. Soon the roads gave an indication of how they would be in Honduras. Potholes are commonplace and it pays to watch the road rather than the scenery. The driving manner here is based on avoiding potholes at the expense of the motorcycle coming straight towards you. A new type of riding lesson. :funmeterno:
I followed the only highway north on the western side of the country and stopped at Santa Rosa de Copan. It was a medium sized town and about half way to Copan Ruinas so I had decided to stay there the night. There was a hotel in the centre of town so I pulled in and negotiated the cost to $15 from $20. The owner of Getsemani, Sandra was friendly and helpful. One of her staff did pencil drawings in a notebook that were amazing.

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I met another traveller there. Wei is a Chinese woman travelling around the world for three years in her Jeep.
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PaulNomad

18 Feb 2015 16:20

Honduras - Copan Ruinas 1

I packed up and rode off in the morning towards Copan Ruinas. It is near the Guatemalen border and I have come the very long way round, having been within two hundred kilometres of this border crossing over a month ago. The potholes became bigger and the traffic was not heavy but one had to stay alert every second. Driving was unpredictable here with some people driving beyond their capabilities on roads not set up for any type of regular speed.
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It was not as lush as El Salvador with a lot of land clearing and more cattle in the paddocks. The countryside looked degraded with many weedy looking species growing along the road verge and up into the hills and through the paddocks.
There were no volcanoes here either meaning that the soil was probably older and less productive. Although tropical and green, judging by the size of the crops and other indicators the soil was poorer than in the volcanic countries.
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Along the way there was a practice run for the upcoming independence celebrations by groups of school kids
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Fireworks are readily available for the young and old
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I looked up a hostel in Copan Ruinas and headed for there.
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The cobblestoned, steep one way streets were again a challenge on the big bike but after a couple of loop the loops I found the hostel.
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It was cheap but not very inviting once inside.
I managed to have secure parking with a challenging driveway and set about walking to the ruins about two kilometres from town.
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It’s always nice to go for a walk after riding a few hours and it wasn’t long before I was at the entrance building to the ruins.
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It was busy but not too crowded. I followed a group of people ahead of me through the building where there were some offices but no directions about what was required. It was a 300m walk to a fenced off area with a small ticket booth.

‘Do you have your ticket?’ the young girl asked.
‘What ticket is that?’
‘The entry ticket.’
‘How much is it?’
‘I don’t know. You will have to go back to the building and buy one.’
‘Can’t I buy one here?’
‘No.’
I looked back at the 300m walk and just thought this is ridiculous
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so about 50m back there was a nature trail with a map showing it went to all the area except the fenced off part. Good enough.
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Mosquitos. Lots of them. Stop for five seconds and they are everywhere. I walked for another 100m and the trail ended with a flood. Time to return.
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I have to settle for the model.
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I walked back to the entrance and looked for a moto-taxi that were plentiful when I arrived, but now there were none.
I returned on foot to the hostel and reflected on my visit to the ruins. Not meant to be. I decided to take a shower but the hot water wasn’t working. Hmmm I must have had some bad thoughts about being here!!:nono:

PaulNomad

18 Feb 2015 16:21

Honduras - Copan Ruinas 2

PaulNomad

18 Feb 2015 16:30

Honduras - The Caribbean Coast

It was going to be a long day on the bike as I headed up to San Pedro Sula, the world’s most dangerous city.
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I bypassed the city and continued to a small coastal town called Tula. It was a charming little place with the Garufina people very apparent with their dark skin, Rastafarian hair and big white smiles. I found a cheapish hotel that let me park my bike right inside.
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I walked the town, went for a swim in the Caribbean, ate some local food and enjoyed the slow relaxed place of the town.
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I had my eye on La Ceiba where the ferries leave for the well known Utila island but as I passed I didn’t feel drawn to go and explore, instead choosing the town at the end of the peninsula, Trujillo. Well and truly off the beaten tourist path, I liked the little hilltop town with its Caribbean flavor, quaint beachside bars and restaurants with music reminiscent of Cuba.
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I had my first swim in the Caribbean from Honduras
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There were not many people around but I spent a couple of hours reading in a hammock in a bar over a Pina Colada with this view.
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PaulNomad

18 Feb 2015 16:37

Honduras - Trujillo

PaulNomad

18 Feb 2015 16:56

Honduras - Towards the Capital

I loaded up and headed to the end of the peninsular at Puerto Castilla which ended up being a secured commercial port but the scenery on the way was stunning, this is the crossing at Jericho.
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On the way I found a small waterfront block for sale...
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Then stopped in at a small town and met some locals
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Heading inland again there were two roads I could take. One had roads that disappeared from my electronic map but were solid lines on the paper map. The other had solid lines on both but took me almost directly to the capital of Tegucigalpa, south of a couple of places I wanted to look at. I decided on the latter easier option. Always sharing the road with interesting things.
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After a lunch and fuel stop at Benito Oriental the road turned to gravel.
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Then it turned narrow, hilly with some serious ruts and holes. I’m glad I took the good road! I shared the road with some trucks and some cattle.
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I spoke to this guy herding the cows and he told me it was 200kms to Juticalpa, my next destination. Oh well, gravel and standing on the pegs it is!
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The road continued for 30-40kms like this
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over a number of rivers
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and as I was settled into this type of riding I came over a rise and the bitumen started again.
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Not only started but it was the newest road in the country. It was built to international standards, wide with lines, guardrails and excellent signage.
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It was a beautiful winding road with some straights where I let Ziggy stretch her legs a bit. It was the only road without potholes and so unexpected leaving me to wonder which corrupt politician lived in this area.
It was just on 5pm when I came to San Esteban and a brand new motel.
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Jorge is the owner and he only opened a few days ago but still finishing off. He was open to a bit of negotiation for a night so I got a room for $15. The motel was beautifully done. Everything worked, nice hot water shower, large rooms with brand new mattresses and a huge undercover parking area for Ziggy.
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For an off the beaten (tourist) track it was a great oasis. A leisurely stroll into the town and I feed on some pupusas and fruit juice and watched the setting up of a huge flea market that will be going for three days over the weekend. Jorge spoke English, having lived in the US for five years and was very interested in the bike and bike travellers. Great spot in Honduras guys!:thumbup1:

The good road continued to the little town of Gualaco then turned again to the old tar,
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then broke up into gravel and tar and potholes and the typical back roads of Honduras.
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It started a day where I was pulled over five times at road blocks by the police. Yesterday it was three times. On two of the occasions they genuinely wanted to see my papers, one asked for the passport and the other asked for my import permit. One asked me for my new gloves I had bought in Guatemala. The others didn’t ask for anything, but intimated that they wanted a bribe. :ban:

I saw a car pass through quickly after handing some Lempiras to an officer. I refused to pay and refused to play their game. My paperwork is all in order and I don’t want to feed the corruption machine. Suddenly I have no Spanish. I tell them I can’t understand anything they are saying…partly true…then I start on a barrage in English telling them where I am from and about where I’ve travelled so far. I don’t take a breath, just keep telling my story in rapid English, punctuated with smiles, handshakes and the odd bouncing around like a kangaroo to show I’m not from Austria. They tire of this quickly and realise they are not getting any money from me so wave me on.

The police are always very friendly and they approach with a smile and a handshake. They were never threatening or sinister. They never made strong demands or tried to keep me there or keep any of my paperwork. It is just annoying for the third, fourth and fifth times knowing I have to go through my little play. Still, that’s how it is here with the national police. The army on the other hand, was also at a number of separate checkpoints and seeing that I was a tourist, they never stopped me, just waved me on with a polite nod. I preferred this naturally.

The kilometres rolled on through this internal road, passing a number of small and medium sized towns and eventually heading towards the capital Tegucigalpa. I was navigating my way through the city pretty successfully, I came to my last multi-choice junction and turned the incorrect way, immediately followed by two other motorcycles that started flashing their headlights at me. I thought I was getting stopped by the police again so I pulled up and cast my eyes on two loaded up BMW 1200GS motorcycles just like mine. I met Walter and Mario.
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These guys were from Venezuela, Mario is actually Colombian, and they had bought their bikes in the USA, visited Canada and were on their way back to Venezuela. They spoke no English so it was a good test for my Spanish. We managed to work out that we were all heading to Nicaragua and had taken the wrong turn so we mounted the grassy verge in the centre and rode onto the correct road. I had companions for the border crossing into Nicaragua.
We rode for a couple more hours to the town of El Paraiso where we found a hotel to rest up before the border crossing.

PaulNomad

17 Apr 2015 17:45

Venezuela

Well I have been missing in action on the HUBB but I haven't been missing out on the action!!!

I am going to jump ahead from Honduras to Venezuela where I rode for 6 weeks in February and March this year, 2015. We hear lots of bad things about Venezuela but my experience was all positive and I have written a 12 part blog of my experience.

Come along on my journey through Venezuela and visit a country that is the road less travelled, but one that I would encourage everyone to visit. It is the cheapest country you will ever visit, fuel is virtually free, hotels and restaurants cost single digits and you will be welcomed, looked after, spoiled and wowed by this beautiful country.

Visit my blog at paulnomad.com - intuitive motorcycle traveller and check it out. I will put the first part of my trip to Mt Roraima next.

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PaulNomad

17 Apr 2015 17:59

Venezuela Mt Roraima Part 1

We headed off at around 9am for the hour-long drive in the Toyota Troop Carrier to the small Pemón township of Paraitepui, located along a narrow, potted and rutted dirt road winding up and down hills, higher into the mountains. In the distance Mt Roraima and its sister Mt Kukenan loomed high above the surrounding landscape, the clouds typically hanging on to the summits and creating artistic masterpieces. http://i955.photobucket.com/albums/a...psiyrhhfnj.jpg

This is the dry season but it can rain every day on the mountain tops so we are prepared for all weather. The road is dusty but the deep ruts and gouged sides are testament to the deluges that frequent here during the wet season, making these roads difficult to impossible to pass.
Paraitepui is a small Pemón village with small mud and stick huts and families going about their business. Women washing clothes, men walking with hand tools or working small patches of land. Many other men had woven, straight-sided cane backpacks that were loaded with food, camping and cooking gear for the numerous concurrent treks into the mountains. These are the porters and they carry 15kg of your gear for 1800 Bolivares. They are short, strong men and women who walk these paths several times a month to provide much needed cash for their families. They are strong, tough and agile, making the struggling tourists look weak and tired in comparison. One porter reportedly was carrying 50kgs on his pack. Most of us were struggling with 10-15kgs.
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I was fortunate to have some good gear so my pack was about 8kg plus water, but my only boots were my motorcycle boots, not exactly suited to trekking, more for a half-day walk, so I started in sandals and carried the boots. We had been told to expect cold weather on the top so I also decided to take my warm sleeping bag at a tad over 2kg and my inflatable mattress, which is compact and a little more than half a kilo.
We signed in with our passport numbers and prepared for day one, a 12km walk through the savanna grasses.
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The paths were dry and hard with periodic loose rocks followed by paths of larger rocks before becoming parched clay again; passing down across a couple of rivers flowing from the mountains in the distance, before rising again to the hilltops. It was an undulating narrow path, each hill taking us a little higher in total elevation and each peak bringing Roraima and Kukenan larger into our field of view.
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They didn’t seem so far away but as the kilometres rolled on they didn’t seem to be getting closer very quickly. The sun was hot when not hiding behind the clouds and this walk sorted out the balance in the backpacks and muscles needed for the remainder of the trek. A number of hours later the now spread-out group reached the first camp where we offloaded our packs and refreshed in the mountain-chilled water nearby.
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Our group of porters and guides immediately set about cooking our lunch of rice and chicken and setting up the camp.
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We had lots of time to relax and take photos, passing a few hours before our dinner of spaghetti bolognaise and way too strong coffee for that time of night. My strategy of bringing my beloved Exped mattress paid dividends from day one with everyone finding the thin inflatable or dense foam mattresses hard on the tough ground, while I amused the porters and guides with my snozzle-bag inflation device and 7cm thickness of my insulated mat. It was a jovial night with a few rums and beers to wash down the dust and soothe sore feet, muscles and insect bites. So-called Puri-Puri flies bite and leave a red blood spot on the top and several days of intense itchiness. I first encountered them in Socopó where I removed the blood clot on the top to my detriment; this action causes many days of discomfort from my thirty or so bites. Being a new insect to me I have no immunity to them but as time goes on they are less intense and I no longer remove the blood clot, and have become more vigilant about applying insect repellent.
In this land you get tired when the sun goes down and wake at first light. If you look at a watch it is 8.30 to bed and 5am to rise but it’s difficult to judge the actual time.
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After breakfast we were briefed about the day ahead. Nine kilometres to the second camp where we will have lunch then set up camp and prepare for the ascent to the mountaintop. It was hard to imagine being on top of the still distant monolith. Day two started with a descent to the river and a crossing over rocks with the flowing white-water splashing around each step. We all made it across without mishap which everyone was pleased about.
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Quickly the path became steeper, narrower and more rocky. The dried clay-pan changed to football-sized rocks, sand and ever-increasing inclines. As the sun came out we were baked with every step and this became a much harder day. These were foothills but each appeared like a small mountain as each kilogram of extra weight started to take it’s toll on shoulders, hips, lower backs ad thighs. Kilometre after kilometre became more difficult as the hills became steeper and rockier. Some of the slopes became slippery with small scree-type rocks and the path seemed to go on and on.
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A few people walking back the other way would say it was only half an hour more, but they were working with gravity, not against it. Each hilltop promised to be the last, only to be replaced by another higher and steeper path. The sheer 400m walls of Roraima were getting closer with the impossible detail of our ascent become clearer and scarier.
Finally it was the last hilltop and a small inclined rocky path took us to the second camp by a stream, with the horizon completely consumed by the overbearing mountain that was to be day three.
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Not the time to think of that now. Today was a hard day and the sore bodies from yesterday were now screaming with burning calf muscles and thighs, chaffed shoulders, sunburnt faces and necks and for some, the dehydration apparent from too little water during the day. My supply of electrolyte sachets found their first victims, including a precautionary one for myself. As if to laugh at us, the first track up from the river was a vertical muddy scar clearly visible amidst the jungle, a vertical smile telling us that if we thought today was hard, tomorrow will be ten times worse. Further up the side of the imposing rock wall was a steep jungled green ‘ramp’ that was the only possible pathway to the summit. The reality would prove to be even more intense than the imagination could conjure. But for now it was time for food, rest, water and comparing aches, as the ever-tough porters cooked and set up camp for us.
The evening was filled with discussion about what lay ahead, what challenged us today and what we would expect to find at the top. Rum was becoming an evening companion as everyone exposed their stash of the brown spirit. A few shots, not too much, just enough to wash away the muscle pain and bring laughter to the journey. Spirits were high but bodies were tired as our dinner was served just after dark, and soon after the chorus of brushing teeth followed by rhythmic breathing became the only sounds to punctuate the dark starry night at the base of Mt Roraima. This was a remote place, accessible only by foot or helicopter, amidst the geologically oldest rock structures on the planet, believed to be in this form for over two billion years. The indigenous Pemón have their stories of Roraima – Rora (blue) i Ma (green) – the stump of a mighty tree that once held all the fruits and tuberous vegetables in the world. Felled by Makunaima, their mythical trickster, the tree crashed to the ground, unleashing a terrible flood. The ancient energy of this unchanged place surrounded us with silence and grandeur as we waited in slumber for first light.
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First light revealed the vision that I’m sure was in all our group's dreams, the sheer vertical walls of Roraima, the jungle slope leading to the ramp, and ‘that path’ of red clay rising vertically out of the jungle.
‘Only four kilometres today’, was the word from Roman as he briefed the group over breakfast. It will be difficult and we need to be careful on the slippery rocky areas. There was a feeling of apprehension but excitement in the group and I tried to lighten the mood more by reiterating that it was only four kilometres today. Michael from New York was particularly finding it difficult. He was my ‘tent-mate’ for the trip and yesterday had really taken its toll on him physically and mentally. Today was going to be tougher. I decided to stick around and help push him along mentally, knowing that would also be good for me. The young Venezuelan girls were doing well, the Venezuelan guys also, both young and fit, doing what they could to make it easier for their girls.

PaulNomad

8 May 2015 07:30

Venezuela Mt Roraima Part 2

The path led to a stream then immediately to the orange scar that was dried mud with foot holes cut out of it. Not exactly vertical but not far off, each step pushing us higher up the slope. It only took fifteen minutes to reach the top of the visible scar and peer over the camp that later will seem like a spec in the distance. The first obstacle conquered, the path became slightly less vertical but more rocky and the gravity started to feel heavy in the thighs and calves. It was fortunate that Michael needed some help to keep going which helped also push myself on.
‘Come on Michael. Only ten metres more then there’s a flat spot.’
‘I want to stop here, I’m tired, it’s too hard.’
‘Come on Michael’ came the encouraging voice of Arturo, he and Liliana taking up the rear. Keep going, don’t stop yet, you can do it.’
I kept up the encouragement from the front and we managed to push Michael, and ourselves, to reach a good 100metres each stage before stopping and catching out breath. The jungle closed in; towering wet tropical rainforest, accustomed to being enshrined in low cloud, today reaching up to a blue and sunny sky. The gnarly root systems entwined with the rocks, threatening to twist and ankle at every step.
‘Ten metres more Michael.’
‘You told me that before, several times and I’m still waiting for the flat spot!’
‘Just ahead Michael, just another 10 metres.’
The halfway mark was a large rock at the base of the towering 300m bare rockface and we were told it was two hours to there and two hours from there to the top.
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In the last assault towards the rock I pulled ahead of the rest of my small group, feeling a bit dragged down by Michael’s pace and wanting to catch up with the stragglers from the rest of the group who left a few minutes before us. I reached the rock and found Antoine and Nausicaa finishing their rest before continuing on. I waited six or seven minutes for Michael and Arturo and by the time they arrived I was ready to move on. People from another group and some of the porters also arrived so I knew there was plenty of company for Michael, and I forged on. Downhill first for a bit clambering down large rocks but on a well worn path that was easy to follow. Soon ascending again, the rocky path hugged the immense cliff face above, surrounded by thinner jungle and a hotter sun.
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The path came to another peak then down again into a small valley that led to the final assault. In the distance I could see tiny figures at various spots on the shaley ascent, passing through the waterfall that once seemed so distant, was now part of the path. I climbed down to the base of the ascent and started the careful step by step climb over rocks that were wet but not slippery, some loose and some solid, passing under the chilly water of the misty waterfall and letting the fresh liquid wash away the sweat and drench my shirt from the outside. It was all about focus, one step at a time, pushing aside my fear of heights as I climbed ever upward towards the top of the path, the top of the ramp, the top of Mt Roraima.
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The last push, void of trees, exposed to the hot sun, clambering over billion year old rocks, the body and mind focused on one thing and one thing only…reaching the top; and suddenly there it was!
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The large black boulders and cliff edges with wind weathered shapes like animal faces sitting teetering in impossible places standing as sentinels to the plains now so far below.
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Step by step the scene below had fallen further away and now some three or four hundred metres below was the second camp, a collective of dots, and stretching into the immense distance was a small narrow winding path leading back to the little basecamp village.
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We could take time to enjoy the views from here as we waited for the last of our group, all of us buoyed by the magnificent views surrounding us.
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Once all together and having lots of photos we walked to our cave that was to be home for the next two nights. A tall overhang facing the opposite direction to the travel of the ever-changing weather was assured to keep us dry.
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The half hour walk took us through a new land, a black landscape peppered with small and large ponds, little clumps of green each a micro garden of a dozen species of ancient plants, insectivorous, ferns, basic daisies, lichens and mosses.
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The occasional tiny orchid in yellow, red or orange, each little patch a complete world, a functioning ecosystem, a colony of codependent plants symbiotically surviving this harsh, wet environment, probably unchanged for millions of years.

The keen eye of Antoine picking up an ancient frog species that hadn't yet evolved enough to jump.
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The black rocky outcrops, the moonscape, this was The Lost World made famous by the book of the same name in the 1930s, inspired by what lay before our eyes now.
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As we arrived at the camp, in usual fashion we tourists collapsed against the rock using our packs as cushions while Roman, Selma and the porters carried over pots of water, started the large copper kerosene burners and commenced the cooking duties.

A couple of others arrived with the tents and started erecting them in the narrow sandy space in front of the shelter, but the ground was not flat and with the thin mattresses several sleepless nights were assured for most. Almost arrogantly I visualized my 7cm mattress and new warm sleeping bag and dared not speak too loudly about how comfortable I would be for two nights.
The cloud moved in quickly, driven from the northwest and quickly enveloping the whole mountain top; the scene before our eyes, everything beyond the immediate bushes was shrouded in mist. The temperature dropped by a good five or six degrees and the wind chilled us as it pushed the grey mass of water vapour rapidly across the ancient surface.
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We suddenly had a sense of the cold we were to expect during the night and this became the point of discussion. After a while the temperature started to rise and as if by the sweep of a magician’s cape, the cloud disappeared and the sun shone again, its white and yellow rays glistening rainbows in the pools as it started sinking in the west.
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We all wandered off in various groups to discover more intimately the new world that we had become part of, the old world that has stood unchanged through a thousand generations of men, mountains that saw dinosaurs come and go, stood silently as the Andes rose from the plains to the west, from a time when Gondwanaland was still intact.
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The meals had become a little more basic as the fresh meat was used up but still we dined on stew and rice tonight with the guides and porters not eating until we had finished our first and second helpings if we desired. They started with a well received brew of hot chocolate. The dark had descended and the warm jackets, beanies and thick socks appeared from the packs. It was a tired group tonight after three days of physical exertion but no one…well maybe one…looking forward to the thin mattresses and inadequately rated sleeping bags on the undulating rocks in the evening chill. The expected was realised as everyone the next morning was groaning about sore backs, uncomfortable curves, dips and stones shaping the sleep of the bodies. I slept well on my trusty Exped and actually became too hot during the night and had to open my bag up to cool down. This is the bag I want for Patagonia!!
Our day consisted of a four hour walk around the sights at this end of the plateau. The window and its adjacent rocks jutting out into space over a seemingly bottomless cavern.
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The cloud had different ideas about our photo opportunities, moving in quickly to obscure latter attempts.
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Cliff edges, the so-called Jacuzzi, a string of jade-green coloured pools where we swam; the crystal gardens and numerous other features.
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We covered some distance to see the changing landscape but the constant black rock, small pools and bizarre wind-formed outcrops dominated.
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It was a fun day with three of the group opting for the much farther walk to the Triple Point, where the countries of Argentina, Guyana and Brazil met at their lofty peak. We had plenty of time just to look and take in the wonder of this place. Dinner was an uninspiring rice with warm milk followed by another rough night for some and a simple oatmeal breakfast, not an ideal preparation for the descent. Our time here was up.

Despite the cloud moving in and out we had very little rain and mostly clear views and as if scripted, before we started the descent we were taken to another lookout point to see the majesty of the walls, the distant undulating view shimmering under a perfectly blue sky.
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We followed the same path down. The lack of rain had dried up the misty waterfall and the loose shaley stones were mostly dry. Although every step required utmost concentration and there was no illusion about the difficulty of the descent, this time we had gravity on our side.

The steep loose part was quickly covered and the rocky path started as the narrow track found its way first into the canopy and then into the thicker jungle. Motorcycle boots were not the best option for this but it was more effective than my sandals and easier than carrying them. If I brought them all this way I was going to wear them! However another critical thing is to make sure your toenails are trimmed. Although not long, I had a longish end to my left big toe nail and I remember the exact step where my foot slid forward in my boot and pushed the nail hard into my toe. This was gonna hurt!
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The four hour ascent became a two hour descent and we were back at second camp for lunch. Because it was faster we also had to complete the nine kilometres back to the first camp. I took off my boot and my worst suspicions were confirmed. My nail was already becoming black from the blood underneath. I was going to lost the nail. The nine kilometres was agony as I kicked the odd rock and slid my foot several times to the front of the boot again, putting more pressure on the toe. The hot, troubled faces of the new groups approaching second camp, left me with just a smile and a wave, knowing that if today was hard for them, tomorrow would be another challenge. Slowly we picked our way along the narrow rocky path, going ever down but at times steeper than others and the forgotten ravines and small river crossings leaving a steep uphill bank on the other side.
By 4pm the last of us struggled in, I was with Antoine and Nausica and Michael. Michael was on the point of exhaustion, my toe and general muscle soreness was getting the better of me and Antoine’s heels had a nice collection of torn blisters.
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We hobbled in to the cheers of the rest of the group. A final meal and a final night in the tents, a large moon illuminating Roraima, now deep in the distance and not looking so large, marked the nearing of the end of the journey.

In bed soon after dark and up at first light, I found myself a new walking partner from another group, Keiko from Japan, a four-year travel veteran in her forty eighth country. We had a similar pace and lots to talk about so we walked out the twelve kilometres together, before farewelling at basecamp. She is heading north to Central America.
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Our group all came in and soon after we bundled into the two 4wds and were driven back to a little town in the Gran Sabana where I had stopped for lunch a week ago.

We were delivered back to respective accommodations and some of us met up for pizza and beers later that night. I returned to my hostel just out of town, Los Pinos, and that was it. My adventure to Roraima all but over. Severe muscle soreness and a throbbing toe stark reminders every time I tried to walk.

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