South America Trip - 8 October 1995 to 19 May 1996 225 days/16000 miles
Phase 1 -- San Jose, California to San Jose. Costa Rica
Had hoped to get away early in September, but a late decision to sell the house, and final preparation of the bike saw 1 October come and go. I am struggling to come up with a secure, i.e., theft proof way of tying all the gear on the R100 G/S Paris Dakar without making it too burdensome so that we get lazy about using it. Everyone that we talk to knows someone who was robbed/raped/killed in Mexico, Panama, Columbia or Peru. L. came across a book that lists the three most dangerous countries in the world among those we plan to visit.
We finally get away on October 8, with the bike loaded to the bump stops. Two people with tropical gear, cold weather gear, camping and snorkeling equipment in fact proved too much for one bike so that after 110 miles we started to jettison stuff, beginning with my camera, which we left with my niece in Modesto. Did we need two cameras and four lenses7 Well, L. likes her Nikon FM2 for people pictures, which she is particularly good at, and I am really happy with my Minolta MAXXUM and zoom lenses for scenery - my forte. After six years we have stopped discussing which system is best, and each of us is happy with our own equipment. Not being in a mood to argue at this point, I gave up mine and lived to regret it later, on several occasions. Actually the weight of the cameras was not the biggest problem. For quick access. I had them packed in two separate levels of the BMW tank bag, but found that the fully loaded tank bag was too high for a comfortable reach to the handlebars, and stuck in my chest.
Does it work better on the standard GS7 The high center of gravity and weight of the two duffels on the rear of the bike also caused low speed instability in the front end. Restoring to lower the cg. and careful balancing of the load did help a bit, and with practice I became fairly confident on surfaced roads. I could not imagine what it would be like on loose dirt. You might ask how we came to set off on a trip like this without practicing and finalizing an acceptable load . A good question for which I do not have a satisfactory answer - blame it on running out of time, and overconfidence. Timing was driven by two issues, getting through Utah before the snows, and, more importantly, getting to Tierra del Fuego, the tip of South America, before the end of the very short summer there.
Having done Baja before, we planned to cross over into Mexico at Nogales in Arizona, and ride down the west coast. This would allow us to see some of the beauty spots of the southwestern US, and get some practice before crossing the border. And beautiful it truly is, from Tioga Pass, Yosemite, to Duckwater thermal pool in Nevada (great for skinny dipping), to Kodachrome Basin, Bryce and Zion in Utah, and Monument Valley in Arizona this is a magnificent country. We are beginning to get the hang of camping, though by mid October the nights can be cold, witness a half inch of ice on our water bucket after a 23 degree night in Fish Lake National Forest, Utah. After three weeks, a cold wind chased us south from Canyon de Chelly, and we were ready to cross the border.
On October 27 the Mexican peso fell to 7.4 to the dollar, bad for Mexico, but good for us. With 200 dollars worth of pesos, and four weeks of Mexican insurance from Sanborn, we finally take the plunge - not without a little trepidation. This is it, the beginning of the trip I have been dreaming about for ten years. But am I up to it7
Lots of Americans vacation in Mexico so the border formalities are simple and well organized. Despite its closeness to the US, Nogales Mexico is a different world already. The lower standard of living is obvious, and the roads are bad, but I like the cut and thrust of the traffic, and the hustle and bustle. I fight off little kids who want to wash my windscreen, then, in my excitement, relent and give one a dollar. Finally we are out of town and buzzing down route 15 for Hermosillo, where we spend the first night.
In San Carlos, seriously concerned about the load on the bike, and finding hotels to be within our budget, we decided to give up the camping gear. But how to get it back to the US7 Entrusting $1000 of painstakinggly assembled equipment to the mail services from Mexico was either going to be very expensive or not very safe. Luckily we met a group of scuba divers from Scottsdale, Arizona who agreed to take it back into the US for us, and send it to our home base by UPS. Six weeks later we were beginning to lose faith, when it finally showed up. There were places on the rest of the trip where it would have been nice to camp, but reasonably priced accommodation was never hard to find in Latin-America.
We loved the old Spanish colonial towns, my favorite being Alamos. Once an important colonial center, Alamos is now a mostly forgotten village in the foothills, 30 miles east of the highway. It has the typical broad, tree filled central plaza with its obligatory cathedral, cobblestone streets and arcades, and 200 year-old hotels with massive walls and high ceilinged rooms facing tiled courtyards gall for $20 with private bath). Courting couples wander around the plaza on Sunday nights, with mariachis and little food stalls everywhere. The only bakery in town still uses a wood-fired brick oven turning out delicious crisp bread and pastries.
We really enjoyed the food in Mexico - much more variety than in Mexican restaurants in the US. At today's rate of exchange Mexico is very cheap. A dozen very tasty enchiladas from Indians in the market cost less than a dollar (at some risk to your digestive system), and $20 will buy a really good meal with wine for two, at the best restaurant in Patzcuaro. We paid as little as S9.70 for the best room in the best hotel in Acatlan (4gs?), and only $18 for a quite decent hotel in Guadalajara. The most we had to pay was $43 at a Club Med resort at Chichen Itza which is very touristy and you don't have much choice.
Though we are not fond of big cities in general, we did like Guadalajara and Oaxaca. The Folklorico staged by the University of Guardalajara in the Delgollado Theater is excellent, a close rival to the national group from Mexico City. Oaxaca is a very Indian town and well worth a visit for its churches and market. Our hotel room overlooked the Zocala, or main plaza, where a brass band played Souza on our first evening there, and mariachis played late into the night. For our second night we moved to a back room. Didn't mind the music, but the loud-speaker-roused rally of striking teachers which started at 6:00 am was too much. L. looked into teaching here, but teacher's salaries, even at private schools, are about N$900 per month (US$130). In Oaxaca you should try the dried crickets, a local delicacy. I can more honestly recommend the chiles rellenos served by the cafe at the northeast corner of the Zocala.
The roads in Mexico range from something that can only be described as a plowed field sprayed with tar, to their Maxi Pistas,which are freeways as good as any, and virtually deserted because of the high tolls. At first we avoided toll roads, but after being beaten to a pulp on secondary roads, and suffering the ubiquitous ' topes' (speed bumps), were pleased to pay up. It is never safe to relax. The road from San Cristobal de las Casas to Palenque is magnificent, winding up the mountains through beautiful tropical greenery, and an excellent surface despite the warnings in our guidebook. So we were having a ball; this is what motorcycling is all about. But what does this sign 'Fallas Geografica' mean7 We soon found out. Around the corner a section of road 50 feet long and all the way over to the centerline had dropped a foot, and there was a bus coming towards us on our side of the road. Hard on the nerves and the brakes ! By now I realized that the pads for the non standard, six-piston front brake would not last the whole trip. I would have to order replacements from California, and have them shipped to Costa Rica.
The Maya ruins at Palenque (in Chiapas) and Chichen Itza (in Yucatan) defy description. Palenque is in a pretty jungle setting, and has fewer tourists, so we liked it better. Near Palenque in northern Chiapas/Yucatan the peasants had barricaded the highway, but we were able to backtrack and detour around.
Despite all the dire warnings of bandits and theft, we thoroughly enjoyed Mexico. We experienced no trouble of any kind, and found the people very friendly. Of course we were careful, most importantly staying in hotels where the bike could be securely parked at night. Otherwise, excessive caution did not seem to be necessary, even through Chiapas State, where after the recent peasant unrest there was palpable tension. The Indians were less than friendly here, and the police stations were sandbagged and manned by heavily armed troops.
After 4000 miles in Mexico, with 30 minutes remaining on the insurance policy, we have a relatively easy border crossing into Belize, despite not having the original of the ownership certificate, a must at all border crossings we faced in Latin-America. And in fact all that proved necessary, certainly for US citizens and US registered machinery, in all of the countries we visited. This is fortunate because we were unable to get a carnet du passage in the US, and the Auto Clubs in South America will not sell you a triptico unless you are a resident, or the bike is registered in their country. We did meet an American who managed to buy a triptico in Venezuela, but he regretted spending the money as he had never had to use it.
Belize struck us initially as a pleasant change to Mexico, cleaner, more open, green fields and farms. The British influence, for better and worse, is obvious. Of course, they speak English in Belize which is a relief, as my Spanish was not improving, partly because L. was doing so well. However we were soon disillusioned by the high cost (about 60% more than Mexico), and Belize City turns out to be a dump with far too many, too-helpful layabouts on the streets, very unpleasant. We spent a long time looking for reasonably priced accommodation but spoiled by Mexico perhaps, we were appalled. Secure parking for the bike was clearly also a must. We finally find a very nice B&B in a lovely old colonial house, run by an ex-British army type for $45 per night. He agreed to store the bike under the house for a week while we explored the offshore "cays". Not content with having the bike hidden and behind locked gates, he proceeded to build a plywood box around it.
What a nice change, to trade boots, jeans, leather jackets and helmets for thongs, swimsuits, T-shirts and sun lotion. Nothing to do but laze around and eat, lots of very good, very affordable lobster, and delicious fish stew, and to hold it all down, banana cake to die for with homemade coconut ice-cream. Best of all, neither of us is putting on weight
Up in the highlands near the Guatemala border, we find lots of butterflies (hundreds of morphos), and birds (toucans, aracaris, mot-mots and trogons), quite beautiful, and iguanas up to six feet long. The male iguanas were tinted orange with spikes down their backs and big flaps at their throats.
A surprisingly easy crossing into Guatemala, where we spent the first two nights at Tikal, the biggest of the Maya cities, hidden in the Peten jungle. It is awesome to sit at the top of Temple IV, and see the tops of the other temples sticking out of the jungle like mysterious islands in a green sea, while the eerie roar/hacking cough of the howler monkeys reverberates around you. From Tikal south we experience the worst road of the trip so far, 108 miles of trials section, eight hours of mostly first gear. Kept thinking that it couldn't get worse, but it always did, until eventually I had to laugh it was so bad. Actually, one-up on a lighter bike it might have been fun, but at a combined weight of 950 pounds . . .
Luckily, it is possible to break this section by spending a night at Finca Ixobel, a sort of private youth hostel just outside Poptun. A good place to meet people. Soon after we arrived, Patrick, a Hollander whom we had passed earlier that afternoon, showed up on his bicycle, and we ran into a Swiss couple who have already spent two years in Latin-America on their BMW. Tony the spider monkey held our hands as we walked around the farm, then tried to share a very welcome hot shower with L.
Guatemala is the most Indian of Central American countries, about 50 percent Maya. Very proud and independent, they have preserved much of their culture and dress. The Sunday market at Chichicastenango is a riot of color and Diego Rivera inspiration. The Indians are largely Catholic now, and on Sunday the center aisle of the cathedral is covered with burning candles. Later, many of them will also worship the 'Pascal Abaj', a Maya idol which sits on a small altar in a fire blackened area on a hill above the town, flanked by three Christian saints. Charcoal fires burn offerings of incense, chocolate, sugar and bread, while a priest splashes alcohol around and murmurs incantations.
Lake Atitlan on the way to Antigua, is billed by the locals as the world's most beautiful lake, which would be hard to dispute. While looking for lunch we were picked up by a friendly couple from California, and spent two nights in a cottage next to their house which has an incredible view of the lake and the two volcanoes on the far side - breathtakingly beautiful at sunset. Richard Hutchinson and Sylvia introduced us to many of the ex-pat's livinq in Panajachel (Gringo'tenango), and around the lake, and regaled us with tales of some of the more unusual characters. The Indians, who are very pleased to work as house servants and gardeners for the ex-pats add yet another dimension to this society. As one couple put it, "All cultures are weird, but this is the weirdest." Many of the ex-pats are obsessed with the houses that they are buildinq there, under very challenging circumstances, but of course there isn't much else except great weather and the beautiful lake. Not a bad place to spend the US winters, thouqh.
An unpleasant but relatively quick crossing into El Salvador, with blatant expectations of morbida on the Guatemala side (typically about S4 to each of four or five officials - not a lot, but annoying. The alternative is to be very patient. El Salvador is a pretty country around Cerro Verde and Lake Itzalco, very green with many coffee plantations. We had planned to treat ourselves at the Hotel Montana which was built to overlook the volcano. Apparently the volcano stopped all activity the day the hotel was completed, though it had been very active up to that time. So it was a bit of a has-been that never was, and somewhat dilapidated. (There never seems to be enouqh money to repair anything anywhere in Central/South America).
Awful getting through San Salvador, no road siqns, incredible traffic, continuously surrounded by buses and clouds of diesel fumes, and trash everywhere. Some of the dirt roads are even paved with trash. By now we are ready for Costa Rica, so spend only one night each in Honduras and Nicaragua, crossing three borders in as many days, quite traumatic, especially Honduras, where I let myself be cheated out of $40 to save a couple of hours. It would be next to impossible to get through these border posts without the help of the tramitadores. As you pull up to a stop you are surrounded by twenty yelling kids. You pick one and bravely hand him your passport, then attempt to keep him in sight as he pushes through the milling crowds to get the five different rubber stamps on a piece of scrap paper that you need to complete the process. The whole system has no apparent value except to maximize the opportunities for morbida. I was doing quite well, I thought, getting out of Honduras, until the woman with the last stamp insisted on C200 ($15). 1 should have stood my ground, but without good Spanish . . ., I gave in to expedience and paid.
The female hotel manager in a small town in Nicaragua was very unpleasant, an archetypal cold war Bolshevist - probably hates Americans because the revolution failed. In Nicaragua you must have dollars. Only the national bank in Managua will accept traveler's checks, or give you cash on your credit card.
Costa Rica hardly seems like a Central American country, with a civilized border crossing, and very clean. It is absolutely beautiful in all its variety of gentle rain forests and lakes, white water rapids and lava spewing volcanoes, and its beaches, butterflies and birds. We were lucky to see a number of Quetzals which are outstandingly beautiful birds. Toucans are probably my favorites though, such odd proportions and so ungainly in flight, but beautiful colors and lots of personality. They make good pets. It rains so much in Costa Rica the fence posts grow - put in a fence one year, and the next year you have a hedge.
The road up to the rain forests of Monte Verde, where we spent five days resting up and lookinq for quetzals and sloths, was the worst we have experienced so far, wide-eyed muddy on the flat, and rocky on the steeper sections, where the constant rain has washed big channels across the narrow road. The twin-plugged engine was not happy with the best available fuel under these conditions, knocking furiously at times. Settinq the timing back a couple of degrees helped. Monte Verde is beautiful, but very touristy and relatively expensive. After much perseverance we found the El Bosque - very clean, comfortable cabins with a marvelous view for $27.50 per night. This not the best area in Costa Rica to see quetzals. After payinq $23 each for a guided tour of the reserve, we were told by the guide that he had only seen two quetzals in the last seven months. Perhaps this was just to dampen our expectations. Just before the end of the trail, there it was, high up in a tree, a mature male Resplendent Quetzal, deep emerald qreen and ruby red, with a two foot long tail - maqnificent!
Costa Rican food, tipico, is black beans and rice, served with eggs for breakfast, and chicken for lunch and dinner. In the smaller towns it may be difficult to find anything else. There are good restaurants in San Jose, especially Italian, but at US prices, as are the hotels. There is some despondency among many of the US ex-pats here. Prices have increased dramatically in the past two to three years and crime is on the rise. Security is a major growth industry in San Jose which is replete with heavily barred gates and windows, and fences topped with razor wire. Many businesses in town have locked gates which they will open only after they see who you are. Unfortunately, we had to spend a few days here while I tried to trace front brake pads that I have had shipped from California.
This is not a good time to invest money in Costa Rica. The recent banditry and kidnapping have put a serious dent in tourism, and some say that the Colon will devalue as much as 50 percent in 1996. Banks are offering 22-24 percent on short term deposits. Property values are high, and virtually everything is priced in US dollars. Conversely, rentals are quite cheap, so it would be very easy to spend three to four months here each year without making an investment. We felt the same way about Mexico and Guatemala. There is a large contingent of Americans at Ajijic on Lake Chapala, 50 miles south of Guadalajara in Mexico. We spent a day with a realtor there and saw many houses for sale for $80-200 thousand, but there were no buyers. Similar houses rent for $400-750 per month.
Enough of waiting for brake pads in San Jose, it is time for the beach. The road to the beaches at Dominical goes over the Cordillero where we ran into a number of Rico motorcyclists enjoying the twisty road. We spent the night at Eddy Serrano's Finca and Quetzal Mirador Lodge, where $25 per person gets you a trout dinner, bed (bring your own sheets) and breakfast, and, a guided tour in the morning on which he guarantees you will see quetzals. At 9000+feet, the nights are very cold. There was half an inch of frost on the bike at 6:30 the next morning, when, after hot coffee, we set off to look for quetzals .
TO BE CONTINUED
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