Current Location: Quito, Ecuador
Distance cycled to date: 11, 838 km
It's midnight, with less than 12 hours until the plane takes off from Panama City. It's time to take apart the bicycles and box them up, packing away everything as well as we can before flying. It's around 12:30 when we realize that we can't take off our pedals. No matter how hard we try, we simply don't have a wrench to do the job. And because of this, it's somewhat meaningless to disassemble the rest of the bikes. On top of this, we see that one of the boxes that we had picked up from a bike shop the day before just isn't big enough to fit one of the bikes. Decision time. Is it possible to ride to a bike shop in the morning that has 2 spare boxes, as well as find a mechanic to help us box the bikes up? And then still catch a taxi or find a vehicle to drive us, our panniers, and our boxed bicycles to the airport before 10:54 am, one hour before departure, the time that COPA Airlines says we must check in by? The only other option is to change the flight, but by this time, 2 am, it's too late to get ahold of anybody who can help us, and we have no idea what sort of charges would be associated with that.
So, it's to bed by 3 am, and an alarm set for 6 am to get up, finish packing up and ride to the only bike shop that we know in the city (our 2am web searches came up with nothing). Before it seems that we have even fallen asleep, the alarm is already calling us to wake up. And so we swing into action with as much gusto as we can muster, and get ourselves ready to go. Of course as is typical for these kinds of situations we have a flat tire, so it gets patched, reassembled, and ready to go. We go upstairs to pay for our hostel beds, only to find that nobody is around yet. The reception doesn't open until 8 - we figure we can wait it out until 7, but no longer than that. We wait patiently, drinking a cup of coffee, but 7 comes quickly and still the desk is empty. We scribble a quick note of thanks and of apology, leave enough cash to cover our stay and place both under the counter. It's time to go.
We head off into the morning traffic of Panama City and find ourselves quickly riding the wrong way down one way streets, and winding down sidewalks and between buildings in order to get downtown as quickly as possible. We find the major route and try our best not to slow down the traffic rush, but with cars and trucks backed up we find ourselves passing cars more often than we're getting passed. We finally make it to the bike shop. It's almost 8 am. If it opens at 8, we´ll be alright. If it opens at 9, we're not too confident, but figure we've got a shot. We start to unpack our bikes, thinking positively, waiting for somebody to show up and open the door. Again, the awaited time comes and goes, and still the shop is closed. However, our first piece of luck comes when a man comes and sits on the sidewalk in front of the store, and tells us that it doesn't open until 10. (That wasn't the lucky part). We asked if there was another bike shop that he knew of, and indeed there was. Via Espana was the street it was on. And they open at 9 am. This lifted our spirits considerably, although when we realized we had no map of the city, it was morning rush hour, and we had no idea where to go, we lost a bit of that feeling. However, the rush of stress and fear was pulsing through us, and we repacked our bikes and hit the road.
At the first major intersection (a mess of over and underpasses) we asked a traffic police officer if this was the way to 'via Espana'. 'Si', he replied, 'mucho lejo, very far' and pointed us on our way. We knew those words very well, and so we biked hard down this major route, stopping only when we were a few kms away to ask for directions once more. '¿Via Espana? Si!', and we were pointed in the opposite direction. But she was sure, and so was the man that she asked in order to verify it, and so we turned around and biked even harder back towards the most unhelpful traffic police officer we've ever met. Time was ticking by, quite quickly, and we weren't making much progress at all. In fact, we were losing progress. And of course, it was around this time that the patch on my tube decided I didn't do a good enough job, and as the air leaked out of my tire our hope for catching the flight seemed to deflate as well.
We quickly put some air into it, hoping that it would last long enough to find our via Espana, and on we went, stopping every few blocks and saying the words 'via Espana' with a shrug of the shoulders, and would follow the points and waves. Time kept slipping away as we stopped once more to inflate the tire. More riding, more asking of directions, and more pointing. But we seemed to be getting closer, as all of the directions seemed to complement each other. Finally we arrived on the Via. Now, left or right? We chose left. After a few blocks of searching and asking for 'Rali Bicicletas' we were finally turned around, and went the opposite direction. And then, just as our watches displayed 9 am, we came to it. And it was open.
We ran inside, nearly out of breath, and explained to the receptionist our 'grand problema'. We were desperate. And she didn't care at all. They didn't have boxes, we were told. Sorry, we can't help you. This wasn't even an option for us, and so we told her how they sent us from the other store here to get boxes, and that we simply needed them. And now. We figured we had half an hour at the maximum before we needed to be in a vehicle heading for the airport. She continued her story of not being able to help us, but the mechanic who was in the store said that they might have one. And so we followed him to the back, and saw 2 boxes. They were full of garbage, (the boxes, I mean) but we quickly got to work emptying them and set to work disassembling the bicyles. We explained to the mechanic how big a hurry we were in, and he set to work. We did what we could with our allen keys, and he did what we couldn't with his pedal wrenches, and soon we had one bicycle in a box. We were working as fast as we could, but time was still slipping away and it was already 9:30. Could we make it? We were really starting to doubt it.
The three of us kept at it, and soon we had the second bike in a box, stuffed with a few of our panniers and sleeping gear. As they were being taped up, I went to the receptionist in the front and asked if she would be able to call a taxi for us, as we were now in danger of missing our flight. She hummed and hawed, and finally stated that we would need a pick-up truck taxi, because of the boxes. Sure. I figured the same thing. However, she seemed to lack the ability to call a pick-up truck taxi, of which we had seen many throughout the city. In fact, she wasn't able to do anything at all, nor offer a suggestion - she had to return to watching the TV. And so as the bikes were being hauled out to the front and we paid our mechanic a nice tip for his generous help, he got on the phone to help us. Meanwhile, we stood on the street, trying to find a taxi big enough to carry our bicycles. All this, while time kept ticking away... it was now after 10 am.
While most of the taxis were very friendly, and one even attempted to fit our boxes in the backseat and sticking out the trunk (leaving absolutely no room for us in it), we still had no real solution. However, our mechanic had gotten ahold of a friend of his who would owned a rickety old van, and would take us to the airport for $30. At this point, the cost was of far less importance than the time, so we told him if she could be here 'now', we would of course take it. It took a few minutes, but eventually a van showed up. We got the boxes inside, hopped in, and told her we had half an hour to get to the airport, which was supposed to be 45 minutes to an hour away. She thought we could make it though, and as we slowly moved through traffic we couldn't believe how close we were going to be. There might still be a chance to make it.
The van pulled up to the airport at 10:35, giving us a full 20 minutes to check in. It was amazing! We started to lug our boxes through the airport, trying to carry a backpack, both panniers and a boxed bike all at once, without a single porter ever offering help. We got to the lineup for our COPA flight, but were told that we couldn't fly with our boxes like that - they would have to be shrinkwrapped, back by the door that we came in. And so we lugged the boxes back to the shrinkwrapping machine, and waited our turn. While it seemed to take forever, it was only a few minutes later that we had both boxes ready to fly, and our pocketbook $20 lighter. We dragged the boxes back to the line, and checked our watches. 10:40. We still had 15 minutes to check in, and there was only 1 person ahead of us, and 6 check-in counters. We waited, and waited. No line seemed to be making any progress. Finally somebody finished, but before the person ahead of us could go, the lady at the booth left as well. Down to 5 check-in counters. Still no progress. Finally, nearly 5 minutes later, one booth opens up and the gentleman ahead of us proceeds. The front of the line, and almost 10 minutes still.
10 mintes... 5 minutes... still no progress. Somebody is arguing about baggage overage fees. Somebody else is just trying to check 6 pieces of luggage. The man who was ahead of us seems to just be inquiring about every possible flight that the airline has. 1 minute left until 10:54, that magical time. Finally, it passes. 10:55, then 56. Finally, at 11 o'clock, after waiting for 15 minutes at the front of the line, we are called up. As we present our passports to check-in, we are told 'well... that flight is actually closed already...' and both of us nearly lost it. We fairly calmly explained that we had been waiting at the airport for half an hour, but there was nobody here to help us. She didn't seem to respond to the irritation in our voices, but she did start to check us in. Then she saw the bike boxes, and the 3 pieces of luggage. You can't do that, we were told. Of course we could. We just needed to pay extra. We knew that going in, and as she weighed each piece individually, methodically taking her time with every step, the costs started to add up. She wrote down numbers, got out a calculator, and finally told us it would be $175. Wow, that's a lot, but ok. We were ready for a similar number. Then she added, for each one of you. ¿$350? Just for our bikes? That's ridiculous. All the while the screen changed from 'boarding', to 'final call', and still we stood there as she slowly explained what each fee was for. It was ridiculous, but we really wanted to be on that plane, and had no idea how that was going to happen while we stood there - as well, our bixes were still sitting behind her, not moving until we paid our fees.
She took a $50 fee off, seeing as it was only there because of the way the numbers were rounded up anyway, and so we pulled out the Mastercard and would worry about it later. Once everything was paid, she suddenly showed some urgency as she told us we'd have to run to the gate, and that she would call somebody at the gate and tell them to wait for us. We broke into a run, accompanied by her to expedite the process, and reached security. We got through easily, and went to the next step, immigration. We were in hurry. The lady working was not. She asked us for something - we thought she was telling us the plane was boarding. Yes, we knew the plane was boarding - that's why we were in such a hurry. She kept repeating it, and we kept nodding, ready to break back into a run to the gate. Then she started yelling at us 'boarding pass! Boarding pass!' in such a loud voice that everybody turned and looked. It turned out she wanted to see our boarding passes - we don't know why she didn't just say that from the beginning...
We took back our documents and started our sprint, flying through the halls of Panama City airport. Gate #12 came quickly, and we ran to the desk, getting there just as the last person was getting on board. We boarded the plane, sat down, and finally took a deep breath. We made it.
Arriving in Quito, we really didn't think the bikes would arrive with us. It didn't seem possible that they could move as quickly as we did through the airport. But somehow they did, and as we stepped past immigration into the baggage claim, we saw our bikes sitting there waiting for us. Amazing.
We're spending the next week and a half here in Quito at a Spanish language school, working on those verb tenses that we just never get quite right. We're staying with a family in a homestay, and enjoying our time in Ecuador greatly. Quito is an amazing city - perhaps the coolest place we've been yet. And to make matters even better, this Sunday Ecuador is playing Brazil in a very important World Cup Qualifying game here in Quito. And we managed to get tickets for it. And so Sunday afternoon we´ll be donning yellow jerseys and cheering on Ecuador against a very skilled Brazilian team. It's quite the opportunity to get to see such a high profile game, and we are extremely excited. How much better can it get?
Friday, March 27, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
One Continent Down
Current Location: Panama City, Panama
Distance Cycled to Date: 11,824 km
Number of Nights Camped at Gas Stations to Date: 11
Flat tires to Date: 27 (Keenan - 16, Jeff - 11)
Days on the Road: 204
We reached the end of the Pan-american highway, or at least the northern part of it. From here in Panama City it peters out into a gravel road, and finally into an impregnable jungle. And so every cyclist going from North to South America faces a choice when they reach Panama City - to fly to Ecuador, or take a boat to Colombia. Colombia has received a poor reputation in the media in the past decades, with guerrilla warfare and drug cartels dominating the headlines. When we left home, we had promised our family that we would skip Colombia. In fact, it was kind of one of the conditions that we left with. However, since leaving home we have met a number of cyclists who have come through Colombia and all have given it a glowing recommendation. We have heard from numerous travelers about the huge strides in safety that the country has made in the past few years, especially along all the major highways. However, despite these stories from travelers, the Canadian government (as well as British and American for that matter) still recommend avoiding all travel to certain rural areas of the country, including some of the southern regions that we would have to cycle through.
We don't feel that cycling Colombia is any more dangerous than any Latin American country that we will be visiting - however, we did make a promise to our mom, and our government is telling us not to go there. And so, despite almost booking a boat trip from here to the Colombian coast, we finally decided on completing the trip as we had originally planned, and will fly from here to Quito, Ecuador tomorrow.
So - as of right now we have cycled one continent. North America is done. It started off tough, climbing the Canadian Rockies right out of our backyard, and it finished even harder as we climbed the Continental Divide of Panama crossing from the Atlantic to the Pacific coasts. In the past 204 days we have had the opportunity to see just how well roads are engineered in Canada. We crossed the Rockies on a road that we thought was steep. We didn't know steep in those days - Panama has schooled us in this lesson. Our first day back on the mainland we expected some very steep hills, up and down, and got exactly what we were expecting. It was difficult, but being armed with those expectations beforehand made it much easier.
It was the following day that really hurt. After attempting to camp first at some sort of Petro-chemical campground full of American RVs, and then at a police station and being rejected both times we finally had to resort to paying for a cheap 'hospedaje'. We even slept in an extra hour or two the next day, thinking "it's only a 1500 metre climb'. We're not sure why we were taking it so lightly, but as the day began with some steep roller coaster-esque hills, we realized we were in for a long day. The road continued its quest for finding the steepest hills to climb, and we followed, sweating like we have never sweat before. We would be standing, pumping our legs as if we were on a vicious Stairmaster, knowing that if we slowed at all we would tip over, and not be able to start moving again on the steep grade. Along with this, the soles on our cycling shoes are worn down so much that the metal cleat protrudes, giving us no traction at all, especially on steep hills. It was continue pumping those legs and keep moving at 5 km/h, or tip over and have to turn around.
We took hours and hours to go the 30 or 40 km to the top, but once we reached the top and felt the blast of the Pacific winds hitting us we thought we would be down in no time. The road on the opposite side of the mountain was built just as steeply, but luckily without so many sections missing from landslides. It was an insane downhill, where we would pick up speeds so quickly that we were continually riding in the 70s, while pulling our brakes. Corners would come rushing at you so quickly you hardly had time to think, and it seemed at times that our brakes were not up to the challenge. But, like always, we made it down without any incident, and lost as much elevation in about half an hour as took us 6 hours to gain.
After getting to the Pan-american, the rest of the ride through Panama was, well, almost a little boring. It went up and down with some small easy hills, and we found ourselves either daydreaming on the amazingly wide shoulder, or else being jarred to pieces on the stupidest concrete sidewalk/shoulder covered in cracks and rumble strips. There was no in between on this highway - half the time the shoulder was amazing, the other half it was the worst we had experienced.
Our last night before entering Panama City we came across some of the first un-fenced fields we have seen since Mexico. In fact, it looked like Panama was presenting us one last chance to have a true stealth-camping experience, as magnificent as we had in the Baja. After spending so many nights sleeping at noisy gas stations and even a rural bar, this was a very appealing option. We set out into the long grass and trees, and found a perfect spot, just like in the old days. It was a great way to end cycling this continent.
Our final day, after fixing a few more flat tires (those of you keeping an eye on the flat tire count will notice the huge comeback) we finally reached the Bridge of the Americas, the grand entrance to Panama City over the Panama Canal. We had heard from a few cyclists that they had been stopped by police and not allowed to bike over the bridge, instead being forced to hitchhike their way over, and so we prepared ourselves for this indignity. However, with all the construction going on, we managed to slowly make our way to the front of the stopped traffic without anybody stopping us, and when it came time for our side of the bridge to cross, we just booked it, pedaling as hard as we could, getting waves and smiles from police and construction workers alike. And so, we were granted a grand entrance into the city.
Panama City is a pretty amazing place, unlike any of the other Central American capitals we have been to. Part of it is 16th century Spain, part is 20th century slums, and part is 21st century skyscrapers and shopping malls. It's a cool mix, and we've enjoyed trying to explore it all while taking a few days to relax, and soak in the fact that we just rode our bikes from Canada to the Panama Canal.
Distance Cycled to Date: 11,824 km
Number of Nights Camped at Gas Stations to Date: 11
Flat tires to Date: 27 (Keenan - 16, Jeff - 11)
Days on the Road: 204
We reached the end of the Pan-american highway, or at least the northern part of it. From here in Panama City it peters out into a gravel road, and finally into an impregnable jungle. And so every cyclist going from North to South America faces a choice when they reach Panama City - to fly to Ecuador, or take a boat to Colombia. Colombia has received a poor reputation in the media in the past decades, with guerrilla warfare and drug cartels dominating the headlines. When we left home, we had promised our family that we would skip Colombia. In fact, it was kind of one of the conditions that we left with. However, since leaving home we have met a number of cyclists who have come through Colombia and all have given it a glowing recommendation. We have heard from numerous travelers about the huge strides in safety that the country has made in the past few years, especially along all the major highways. However, despite these stories from travelers, the Canadian government (as well as British and American for that matter) still recommend avoiding all travel to certain rural areas of the country, including some of the southern regions that we would have to cycle through.
We don't feel that cycling Colombia is any more dangerous than any Latin American country that we will be visiting - however, we did make a promise to our mom, and our government is telling us not to go there. And so, despite almost booking a boat trip from here to the Colombian coast, we finally decided on completing the trip as we had originally planned, and will fly from here to Quito, Ecuador tomorrow.
So - as of right now we have cycled one continent. North America is done. It started off tough, climbing the Canadian Rockies right out of our backyard, and it finished even harder as we climbed the Continental Divide of Panama crossing from the Atlantic to the Pacific coasts. In the past 204 days we have had the opportunity to see just how well roads are engineered in Canada. We crossed the Rockies on a road that we thought was steep. We didn't know steep in those days - Panama has schooled us in this lesson. Our first day back on the mainland we expected some very steep hills, up and down, and got exactly what we were expecting. It was difficult, but being armed with those expectations beforehand made it much easier.
It was the following day that really hurt. After attempting to camp first at some sort of Petro-chemical campground full of American RVs, and then at a police station and being rejected both times we finally had to resort to paying for a cheap 'hospedaje'. We even slept in an extra hour or two the next day, thinking "it's only a 1500 metre climb'. We're not sure why we were taking it so lightly, but as the day began with some steep roller coaster-esque hills, we realized we were in for a long day. The road continued its quest for finding the steepest hills to climb, and we followed, sweating like we have never sweat before. We would be standing, pumping our legs as if we were on a vicious Stairmaster, knowing that if we slowed at all we would tip over, and not be able to start moving again on the steep grade. Along with this, the soles on our cycling shoes are worn down so much that the metal cleat protrudes, giving us no traction at all, especially on steep hills. It was continue pumping those legs and keep moving at 5 km/h, or tip over and have to turn around.
We took hours and hours to go the 30 or 40 km to the top, but once we reached the top and felt the blast of the Pacific winds hitting us we thought we would be down in no time. The road on the opposite side of the mountain was built just as steeply, but luckily without so many sections missing from landslides. It was an insane downhill, where we would pick up speeds so quickly that we were continually riding in the 70s, while pulling our brakes. Corners would come rushing at you so quickly you hardly had time to think, and it seemed at times that our brakes were not up to the challenge. But, like always, we made it down without any incident, and lost as much elevation in about half an hour as took us 6 hours to gain.
After getting to the Pan-american, the rest of the ride through Panama was, well, almost a little boring. It went up and down with some small easy hills, and we found ourselves either daydreaming on the amazingly wide shoulder, or else being jarred to pieces on the stupidest concrete sidewalk/shoulder covered in cracks and rumble strips. There was no in between on this highway - half the time the shoulder was amazing, the other half it was the worst we had experienced.
Our last night before entering Panama City we came across some of the first un-fenced fields we have seen since Mexico. In fact, it looked like Panama was presenting us one last chance to have a true stealth-camping experience, as magnificent as we had in the Baja. After spending so many nights sleeping at noisy gas stations and even a rural bar, this was a very appealing option. We set out into the long grass and trees, and found a perfect spot, just like in the old days. It was a great way to end cycling this continent.
Our final day, after fixing a few more flat tires (those of you keeping an eye on the flat tire count will notice the huge comeback) we finally reached the Bridge of the Americas, the grand entrance to Panama City over the Panama Canal. We had heard from a few cyclists that they had been stopped by police and not allowed to bike over the bridge, instead being forced to hitchhike their way over, and so we prepared ourselves for this indignity. However, with all the construction going on, we managed to slowly make our way to the front of the stopped traffic without anybody stopping us, and when it came time for our side of the bridge to cross, we just booked it, pedaling as hard as we could, getting waves and smiles from police and construction workers alike. And so, we were granted a grand entrance into the city.
Panama City is a pretty amazing place, unlike any of the other Central American capitals we have been to. Part of it is 16th century Spain, part is 20th century slums, and part is 21st century skyscrapers and shopping malls. It's a cool mix, and we've enjoyed trying to explore it all while taking a few days to relax, and soak in the fact that we just rode our bikes from Canada to the Panama Canal.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Closing in on South America
Current Location: Boca del Toros, Panama
Distance cycled to date: 11,222 km
Flat tires to date: 24 (Keenan - 13, Jeff - 11)
Top speed hit to date: 78 km/h
The last week of riding has taken us from Nicaragua, through Costa Rica, and on to our last country of Central America. (That's Panama, for those of you who are still a little geographically challenged). Nicaragua continued to impress us with its flatness, though the stiff cross and headwinds took away a bit of the pleasure of riding on such a smooth surface. We stayed a night in the neat city of Masaya after making our way through the traffic of Managua, the capital. We had planned to go around it, but when we got to the intersection earlier that day we found the bypass route was in rough shape, so we figured that riding with a shoulder for 50 km would be worth the hassle of cycling through a busy Latin American capital city. We don't really know how bad that highway was, but what made our route worth it was the Pizza Hut we came across in Managua which offered something we could only dream of lately - free pop refills. Before committing to the restaurant we made sure it was in fact as many drinks as we could consume, not just a single refill. Once satisfied with their answer, we sat down and began our eat and drink-a-thon. Our family sized, stuffed crust pizza hardly filled us, but the 7 refills of Pepsi helped to give us a feeling of fullness that we usually lack. The full stomach just added to the excitement of the Managua traffic circles, where we had the chance to outrace numerous buses and taxis who seemed determined to show us that we shouldn't have entered the roundabout when we did.
We made it through the city without incident though, and the rest of Nica
ragua went by quickly as we rode on a large shoulder past large lakes, large windmills, and large volcanoes. All this in such a small country. We spent our last night in Nicaragua right before the border, camped at a gas station. This was quite ordinary for us, but the gas station was far from ordinary. When we looked behind it to find a place for our tent, we found big cages with monkeys, parrots, and other exotic birds. We still have no idea why they were there. The next morning, entering Costa Rica, we were expecting to see some first world quality roads to match the developed nature of the country (and the developed nature of their prices). However, we were treated to not only the narrowest roads on the entire trip, but quite possibly the busiest as well. It was like taking I-5 traffic from southern California and sticking it on the Taimi Road outside Rocky Mountain House. For the few of you out there unfamiliar with the Taimi Road, it isn't very big. Throw in some more nasty winds, some big climbs, and it made for some generally unpleasant riding. Yes, the Costa Rican highways give you good reason to dislike the country. However, almost every single person we met there went out of their way to help us, and so as much as we'd like to hate Costa Rica we really can't stay mad at it. Just that stupid highway.
In fact, while staying in a San Jose suburb with a friend of a friend and enjoying some fantastic Costa Rican hospitality we decided to change our plans of continuing down the Panamerican highway. It was past 11 o'clock (which is waaaay past our bedtime) and while looking at a map before falling asleep we realized that we could actually head up to the Caribbean coast and make our way into Panama, avoiding what is literally called the 'Peak of Death'. It does sound pretty enticing, but when we weighed out the pros and cons of biking along a flat Caribbean coastline or doin
g a climb to 3200 m on a road that we were cursing daily, we finally decided on the former. And so we climbed a little, (including a terrifying tunnel, in which the deafening honking combined with the lack of lights led both of us to believe we would never make it out alive. We however, did). We then enjoyed a 1400 m descent into a flat banana and pineapple land. We flew through jungle and a national park, and the descent awarded us with a new top speed of 78 km/h, and made me feel sure that 80 km/h is easily within reach. Twice we attempted to camp a night on an agro-tour farm, first for pineapples and second for chocolate (yes, a chocolate farm!), but neither really panned out. We did get a chance to see some pineapples growing though which was quite a highlight, because who ever gets to see pineapples growing? Do you know where pineapples come from? Is it a tree, is it a shrub, is it a root? Go to Costa Rica and you can see for yourself. Just don't ask to camp there - it's not allowed.
Yesterday we enter
ed Panama. It was a triumphant moment which dissipated quickly as we had to get our bikes across a decaying railway bridge which was only wide enough for one lane of traffic, and not made for cycling across at all. Luckily for Jeff there was a chainlink fence on the side to prevent him from tipping into the river when his bike tire got stuck between two planks. Panamanian officials at the border seemed to want us to produce some sort of ticket out of the country, which we didn't really understand. We're on bikes. Jeff wanted to just tell them we were going to bike through the Darien Gap, but we weren't sure what kind of senses of humour they had, so we told them we had a flight booked online. First she said that wasn't good enough, but somebody else behind the counter seemed to like us so he told her to let us in. Ten US dollars and two stamps later, we were officially in Panama.
The reason that we didn't originally look at this route was because on our map, the road ends in the town of Almirante. From there you can catch a boat up to Boca del Toros on an island off the coast, and from there catch another boat down to Chiriqui Grande. We got to Almirante and went to take our boat across, but we then found out that there is now in fact a highway built between the two towns. We thought since we were so close, we might as well take a day to check out a Caribbean island, because how many chances do you have to check out a Caribbean island? We also found out that the boat no longer runs from the island to Chiriqui Grande. What we also found out after we got here is that the Panamanian road engineers seem horribly sadistic. It seems that they have found the steepest hill/cliffs that they can find, and then proceed to build a road straight up it. We have seen quite a few roads in the past 6 months. In fact, over 11 thousand kms worth of roads. But we haven't yet seen roads this steep, and this long. The grade (which we would guess is well over 15%, if not much more) combined with the heat and humidity make for some brutal riding. We just have to keep remembering how we avoided the Peak of Death, and we've left the crazy traffic of Costa Rica behind.
Tomorrow we'll take the boat back to Almirante and continue along the Panamanian mainland. We have our fingers crossed that the road will flatten out a little bit, but know that this is just a dream as everybody that we've talked to has told us the opposite. So, we'll have another day of up and down, and then a day of up to the continental divide before we head back down to the Pacific coast. But from there it's got to just be smooth sailing to Panama City on a flat highway with a wide shoulder. Because if there's one thing we've learned, it's that tomorrow is always going to be easier than today. At least that's what we always tell ourselves...
Distance cycled to date: 11,222 km
Flat tires to date: 24 (Keenan - 13, Jeff - 11)
Top speed hit to date: 78 km/h
The last week of riding has taken us from Nicaragua, through Costa Rica, and on to our last country of Central America. (That's Panama, for those of you who are still a little geographically challenged). Nicaragua continued to impress us with its flatness, though the stiff cross and headwinds took away a bit of the pleasure of riding on such a smooth surface. We stayed a night in the neat city of Masaya after making our way through the traffic of Managua, the capital. We had planned to go around it, but when we got to the intersection earlier that day we found the bypass route was in rough shape, so we figured that riding with a shoulder for 50 km would be worth the hassle of cycling through a busy Latin American capital city. We don't really know how bad that highway was, but what made our route worth it was the Pizza Hut we came across in Managua which offered something we could only dream of lately - free pop refills. Before committing to the restaurant we made sure it was in fact as many drinks as we could consume, not just a single refill. Once satisfied with their answer, we sat down and began our eat and drink-a-thon. Our family sized, stuffed crust pizza hardly filled us, but the 7 refills of Pepsi helped to give us a feeling of fullness that we usually lack. The full stomach just added to the excitement of the Managua traffic circles, where we had the chance to outrace numerous buses and taxis who seemed determined to show us that we shouldn't have entered the roundabout when we did.
We made it through the city without incident though, and the rest of Nica
ragua went by quickly as we rode on a large shoulder past large lakes, large windmills, and large volcanoes. All this in such a small country. We spent our last night in Nicaragua right before the border, camped at a gas station. This was quite ordinary for us, but the gas station was far from ordinary. When we looked behind it to find a place for our tent, we found big cages with monkeys, parrots, and other exotic birds. We still have no idea why they were there. The next morning, entering Costa Rica, we were expecting to see some first world quality roads to match the developed nature of the country (and the developed nature of their prices). However, we were treated to not only the narrowest roads on the entire trip, but quite possibly the busiest as well. It was like taking I-5 traffic from southern California and sticking it on the Taimi Road outside Rocky Mountain House. For the few of you out there unfamiliar with the Taimi Road, it isn't very big. Throw in some more nasty winds, some big climbs, and it made for some generally unpleasant riding. Yes, the Costa Rican highways give you good reason to dislike the country. However, almost every single person we met there went out of their way to help us, and so as much as we'd like to hate Costa Rica we really can't stay mad at it. Just that stupid highway.In fact, while staying in a San Jose suburb with a friend of a friend and enjoying some fantastic Costa Rican hospitality we decided to change our plans of continuing down the Panamerican highway. It was past 11 o'clock (which is waaaay past our bedtime) and while looking at a map before falling asleep we realized that we could actually head up to the Caribbean coast and make our way into Panama, avoiding what is literally called the 'Peak of Death'. It does sound pretty enticing, but when we weighed out the pros and cons of biking along a flat Caribbean coastline or doin
g a climb to 3200 m on a road that we were cursing daily, we finally decided on the former. And so we climbed a little, (including a terrifying tunnel, in which the deafening honking combined with the lack of lights led both of us to believe we would never make it out alive. We however, did). We then enjoyed a 1400 m descent into a flat banana and pineapple land. We flew through jungle and a national park, and the descent awarded us with a new top speed of 78 km/h, and made me feel sure that 80 km/h is easily within reach. Twice we attempted to camp a night on an agro-tour farm, first for pineapples and second for chocolate (yes, a chocolate farm!), but neither really panned out. We did get a chance to see some pineapples growing though which was quite a highlight, because who ever gets to see pineapples growing? Do you know where pineapples come from? Is it a tree, is it a shrub, is it a root? Go to Costa Rica and you can see for yourself. Just don't ask to camp there - it's not allowed.Yesterday we enter
ed Panama. It was a triumphant moment which dissipated quickly as we had to get our bikes across a decaying railway bridge which was only wide enough for one lane of traffic, and not made for cycling across at all. Luckily for Jeff there was a chainlink fence on the side to prevent him from tipping into the river when his bike tire got stuck between two planks. Panamanian officials at the border seemed to want us to produce some sort of ticket out of the country, which we didn't really understand. We're on bikes. Jeff wanted to just tell them we were going to bike through the Darien Gap, but we weren't sure what kind of senses of humour they had, so we told them we had a flight booked online. First she said that wasn't good enough, but somebody else behind the counter seemed to like us so he told her to let us in. Ten US dollars and two stamps later, we were officially in Panama.The reason that we didn't originally look at this route was because on our map, the road ends in the town of Almirante. From there you can catch a boat up to Boca del Toros on an island off the coast, and from there catch another boat down to Chiriqui Grande. We got to Almirante and went to take our boat across, but we then found out that there is now in fact a highway built between the two towns. We thought since we were so close, we might as well take a day to check out a Caribbean island, because how many chances do you have to check out a Caribbean island? We also found out that the boat no longer runs from the island to Chiriqui Grande. What we also found out after we got here is that the Panamanian road engineers seem horribly sadistic. It seems that they have found the steepest hill/cliffs that they can find, and then proceed to build a road straight up it. We have seen quite a few roads in the past 6 months. In fact, over 11 thousand kms worth of roads. But we haven't yet seen roads this steep, and this long. The grade (which we would guess is well over 15%, if not much more) combined with the heat and humidity make for some brutal riding. We just have to keep remembering how we avoided the Peak of Death, and we've left the crazy traffic of Costa Rica behind.
Tomorrow we'll take the boat back to Almirante and continue along the Panamanian mainland. We have our fingers crossed that the road will flatten out a little bit, but know that this is just a dream as everybody that we've talked to has told us the opposite. So, we'll have another day of up and down, and then a day of up to the continental divide before we head back down to the Pacific coast. But from there it's got to just be smooth sailing to Panama City on a flat highway with a wide shoulder. Because if there's one thing we've learned, it's that tomorrow is always going to be easier than today. At least that's what we always tell ourselves...
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Halfway Down the World
Current Location: Leon, Nicaragua
Distance cycled to date: 10,378 km
International borders crossed since our last entry: 4
Longest cycling day to date: 163.78 km (8 hours, 21 minutes of riding)
Highest daily trip climb to date: 2320 metres
Flat tires to date: 20 (Jeff - 11, Keenan - 9)
When you fit as much into a week or so as we have, it's hard to write it all into one blog entry. A couple spaced out over the week would have been better - but we've been busy, so what could we do? So, here is what we've done since Chiquimula, Guatemala:
We left Guatemala, crossing the border into Honduras and reached the ruins of Copan. It was pretty sweet - not quite as grand as Tikal, but impressive nonetheless. We lucked out with the weather once again, and had blue sky and sunshine in the morning after being the first ones let in the gate (Just like we were in Tonina, Palenque, Tikal and now Copan!). The rain clouds came in the afternoon and so we spent it inside, comfortably watching UEFA Champions League soccer, live. What a fantastic day.
From Copan we faced the two hilliest days we have had yet on the trip. Consecutively. Both of them were over 2000 metres of climbing, and both were unexpected. It left our legs shaky and ourselves exhausted, but we crossed into El Salvador the next day, and nothing lifts ones spirit like an international border crossing.
We managed to make it 17 kms into El Salvador before stopping in La Palma for pupusas, the national food of El Salvador. They were delicious. For those of you who have never experienced a pupusa, they are homemade corn tortillas, stuffed with cheese, meat, beans, or any combination of those things. The description doesn't really do them justice, because they taste awesome. For 6 pupusas, and 2 sodas we paid $2.90 US. We finally got to use some of those American dollars we have been holding onto since leaving California because El Salvador uses them as their official currency. It was strange to see everything marked in dollars again.
We cycled the entire country of El Salvador, and only spent 2 nights in the country. And yet it was in this small country that we hit our milestone of 10,000 km. Ten thousand kilometres! It was exciting. We had guessed we could do the trip of 20,000 km in 12 months, and we hit 10,000 km on February 28th - exactly 6 months after leaving. If you're not impressed with the trip, you should at least be impressed with our estimating skills. We nailed that one.
All through El Salvador we had a decent highway with a decent shoulder (ok, maybe half-decent shoulder), and the only thing to slow us down were the few fast food restaurants that we saw along the way. A divided highway with a shoulder and a shopping mall with fast food was reminiscent of California once again.
From El Salvador, we had to cross into Honduras one more time, but this was a much easier experience. The highway was no longer washed out in places, lines were painted on it, potholes were virtually non-existent, and the hills were nothing compared to the Copan area. The wind picked up, but we found it switched directions so often that we had a tailwind just as often as a headwind, and so we couldn't really complain. In fact, we were expecting so much worse that it made southern Honduras great.
We slept at another 24 hour Texaco station outside Choluteca on our last night in Honduras, and after chatting with the friendly, smiling (but shotgun yielding) guard we felt very good about the place. He showed us a good place to set up our tent, and enjoyed watching us cook our supper (although to be honest everybody really enjoys watching us cook our supper. Anytime we pull out our campstove we get a pretty good sized crowd, with lots of oos and aws when the flame first bursts). However, this smiling, friendly guard then started to ask us something that we had never heard before. We just smile and nod as usual. He says it again in different words. We still don't understand, but smile and nod. Finally, he has to resort to rubbing his fingers together, the universal sign of money, and using the word "cuota", the same one used for the toll highways. We almost feel bad that we made him have to ask us so directly for a bribe. Almost. He asks for 80 Lempira, but we barter him down to 50. Is it smart to barter the shotgun yielding guard for his bribe? We don't really know but we've never paid for accomodation without some sort of give and take, so he settled for 50 and we're all happy. Or at least relatively happy - we were happier when he was just the smiling, friendly guard.
On leaving Choluteca we went towards the border of Nicaragua, planning on doing about 125 km to Chinandega, the first major town across the border. But, the day started out well with a tailwind, and the border crossing went so easily we suddenly thought that we might be able to make it 160 km to Leon. But then as soon as we got across the border the road turned to rough gravel, and our average speed was cut in half as we struggled against the wind and dust and generally poor riding conditions. Our very first impression of Nicaragua was
n't the best. However, luckily we kept an open mind because once we got through those initial 15 km the road turned to the smoothest, flattest pavement we have yet experienced. We were just saying yesterday that we didn't believe anymore than anywhere in the world is flat (except southern Saskatchewan, of course). Other than that, it seems like everywhere is hilly. We were wrong though, as it turns out that Nicaragua is in fact flat. Blissfully flat. We started riding hard, and decided to try for Leon, despite the fact that even with our most optimistic math we wouldn't get there until sunset.
We rode hard, and just kept going. As we got close to Leon, we started to see the first recreational cyclists we have seen since Mexico. (Lots of people always are riding bikes down the highway - however not many in spandex, wearing helmets). We were passed by 2, and we ducked in behind them, drafting for as long as we could. They let us for 10 km or so, but then suddenly sprinted after a truck and disappeared down the highway before we knew what was going on. But soon after, another cyclist passed beside us, but rather than just fly by he slowed down and started to chat with us as we went. He'd talk to me for a few minutes, then ride beside Jeff, and generally just kept us going after we had already biked 150 km. In fact at one point he literally put his hand on our back and pushed us along, encouraging us to keep up a steady pace. As we got into the city and he found out what sort of budget accomodation we were looking for, he realized that we would never find a place like that in Leon. And so, he invited us to stay in his house. We couldn't refuse the offer, and despite being extremely exhausted, we were quite excited at getting a chance to meet a family here. It turns out that everybody in Jimmy's family is very nice, and we had a great time conversing in our mix of broken Spanish/English and them in their broken English/Spanish. We enjoyed both dinner and breakfast with the family, and we have an open invitation to stop by the next time we're in Nicaragua.
So far, we've had almost entirely great encounters with everybody that we've met in Honduras, El Salvador, and now Nicaragua. We know we sound a bit like a broken record, but everybody really has been so nice. Everywhere. It's amazing to see how helpful and just generally friendly everybody is to us.
The first half of the trip is now over, and now it's closer for us to keep pedaling to Argentina than to turn back home. So far the trip has been the adventure we were hoping it would be, and it's exciting to think that we still have another 10,000 km to go. That's still a long way to go. But we feel good. We're excited to keep heading south.
Distance cycled to date: 10,378 km
International borders crossed since our last entry: 4
Longest cycling day to date: 163.78 km (8 hours, 21 minutes of riding)
Highest daily trip climb to date: 2320 metres
Flat tires to date: 20 (Jeff - 11, Keenan - 9)
When you fit as much into a week or so as we have, it's hard to write it all into one blog entry. A couple spaced out over the week would have been better - but we've been busy, so what could we do? So, here is what we've done since Chiquimula, Guatemala:
We left Guatemala, crossing the border into Honduras and reached the ruins of Copan. It was pretty sweet - not quite as grand as Tikal, but impressive nonetheless. We lucked out with the weather once again, and had blue sky and sunshine in the morning after being the first ones let in the gate (Just like we were in Tonina, Palenque, Tikal and now Copan!). The rain clouds came in the afternoon and so we spent it inside, comfortably watching UEFA Champions League soccer, live. What a fantastic day.
From Copan we faced the two hilliest days we have had yet on the trip. Consecutively. Both of them were over 2000 metres of climbing, and both were unexpected. It left our legs shaky and ourselves exhausted, but we crossed into El Salvador the next day, and nothing lifts ones spirit like an international border crossing.
We managed to make it 17 kms into El Salvador before stopping in La Palma for pupusas, the national food of El Salvador. They were delicious. For those of you who have never experienced a pupusa, they are homemade corn tortillas, stuffed with cheese, meat, beans, or any combination of those things. The description doesn't really do them justice, because they taste awesome. For 6 pupusas, and 2 sodas we paid $2.90 US. We finally got to use some of those American dollars we have been holding onto since leaving California because El Salvador uses them as their official currency. It was strange to see everything marked in dollars again.
We cycled the entire country of El Salvador, and only spent 2 nights in the country. And yet it was in this small country that we hit our milestone of 10,000 km. Ten thousand kilometres! It was exciting. We had guessed we could do the trip of 20,000 km in 12 months, and we hit 10,000 km on February 28th - exactly 6 months after leaving. If you're not impressed with the trip, you should at least be impressed with our estimating skills. We nailed that one.
All through El Salvador we had a decent highway with a decent shoulder (ok, maybe half-decent shoulder), and the only thing to slow us down were the few fast food restaurants that we saw along the way. A divided highway with a shoulder and a shopping mall with fast food was reminiscent of California once again.
From El Salvador, we had to cross into Honduras one more time, but this was a much easier experience. The highway was no longer washed out in places, lines were painted on it, potholes were virtually non-existent, and the hills were nothing compared to the Copan area. The wind picked up, but we found it switched directions so often that we had a tailwind just as often as a headwind, and so we couldn't really complain. In fact, we were expecting so much worse that it made southern Honduras great.
We slept at another 24 hour Texaco station outside Choluteca on our last night in Honduras, and after chatting with the friendly, smiling (but shotgun yielding) guard we felt very good about the place. He showed us a good place to set up our tent, and enjoyed watching us cook our supper (although to be honest everybody really enjoys watching us cook our supper. Anytime we pull out our campstove we get a pretty good sized crowd, with lots of oos and aws when the flame first bursts). However, this smiling, friendly guard then started to ask us something that we had never heard before. We just smile and nod as usual. He says it again in different words. We still don't understand, but smile and nod. Finally, he has to resort to rubbing his fingers together, the universal sign of money, and using the word "cuota", the same one used for the toll highways. We almost feel bad that we made him have to ask us so directly for a bribe. Almost. He asks for 80 Lempira, but we barter him down to 50. Is it smart to barter the shotgun yielding guard for his bribe? We don't really know but we've never paid for accomodation without some sort of give and take, so he settled for 50 and we're all happy. Or at least relatively happy - we were happier when he was just the smiling, friendly guard.
On leaving Choluteca we went towards the border of Nicaragua, planning on doing about 125 km to Chinandega, the first major town across the border. But, the day started out well with a tailwind, and the border crossing went so easily we suddenly thought that we might be able to make it 160 km to Leon. But then as soon as we got across the border the road turned to rough gravel, and our average speed was cut in half as we struggled against the wind and dust and generally poor riding conditions. Our very first impression of Nicaragua was
n't the best. However, luckily we kept an open mind because once we got through those initial 15 km the road turned to the smoothest, flattest pavement we have yet experienced. We were just saying yesterday that we didn't believe anymore than anywhere in the world is flat (except southern Saskatchewan, of course). Other than that, it seems like everywhere is hilly. We were wrong though, as it turns out that Nicaragua is in fact flat. Blissfully flat. We started riding hard, and decided to try for Leon, despite the fact that even with our most optimistic math we wouldn't get there until sunset.We rode hard, and just kept going. As we got close to Leon, we started to see the first recreational cyclists we have seen since Mexico. (Lots of people always are riding bikes down the highway - however not many in spandex, wearing helmets). We were passed by 2, and we ducked in behind them, drafting for as long as we could. They let us for 10 km or so, but then suddenly sprinted after a truck and disappeared down the highway before we knew what was going on. But soon after, another cyclist passed beside us, but rather than just fly by he slowed down and started to chat with us as we went. He'd talk to me for a few minutes, then ride beside Jeff, and generally just kept us going after we had already biked 150 km. In fact at one point he literally put his hand on our back and pushed us along, encouraging us to keep up a steady pace. As we got into the city and he found out what sort of budget accomodation we were looking for, he realized that we would never find a place like that in Leon. And so, he invited us to stay in his house. We couldn't refuse the offer, and despite being extremely exhausted, we were quite excited at getting a chance to meet a family here. It turns out that everybody in Jimmy's family is very nice, and we had a great time conversing in our mix of broken Spanish/English and them in their broken English/Spanish. We enjoyed both dinner and breakfast with the family, and we have an open invitation to stop by the next time we're in Nicaragua.
So far, we've had almost entirely great encounters with everybody that we've met in Honduras, El Salvador, and now Nicaragua. We know we sound a bit like a broken record, but everybody really has been so nice. Everywhere. It's amazing to see how helpful and just generally friendly everybody is to us.
The first half of the trip is now over, and now it's closer for us to keep pedaling to Argentina than to turn back home. So far the trip has been the adventure we were hoping it would be, and it's exciting to think that we still have another 10,000 km to go. That's still a long way to go. But we feel good. We're excited to keep heading south.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
A Vacation week with old friends, and difficult goodbyes
Current Location: Chiquimula, Guatemala
Distance Cycled to Date: 9559 km
Number of different times we have seen the cycling Verhage family to date: 6
Cheapest hotel room to date: $6.50 (Canadian)
In our last post we said we were going to visit the ruins of Quirigua, and we expected to be a bit disappointed. We were right. They weren't too impressive - and worst of all, they cost 80 quetzals each ($12) to get into. And to top it off, camping in the parking lot was not as easy as we had thought it would be. But after some discussion and a phone call to somebody off site, the guards finally let us, as long as we paid our entry fees. We probably should have just stuck to the gas station along the highway.
After more uneventful cycling, we met a group of Americans, walking along the highway on the outskirts of Chiquimula, the city where we had planned to leave our bicycles for the week. One lady was on a trip similar to ours, but walking from California to Chile. We thought she was a little crazy. She makes our cycling trip seem easy. She told us how she was getting a welcoming party to the city from some local schools in the town plaza, and invited us to join her. And so we found ourselves standing on a raised stage in the centre of the plaza, with school children all around us taking pictures and speeches being made. We felt a little out of place, but just laughed at all the attention we were receiving. Through this, we met a local who (we think?) attended a Quaker Theological Seminary here in the city, and let us store our bikes there for the week. All of this was arranged through somebody translating, and we didn't really ever know what was going on - in fact, we still don't really know what was going on. But we had a courtyard inside a seminary to store our bikes that was tended to by a tiny, ancient Guatemalan lady who we could never understand, but smiled at us a lot.
Last Sunday we left our bikes behind for the first time on the trip, and boarded a bus from Chiquimula to Guatema
la City to meet my girlfriend Lauren at the airport. While it was easy to find her, her bag had been lost in Chicago, so she had to begin her trip here as we live - wearing the same clothes for a couple days. I guess we've gotten used to it over the past 6 months, but most people like to shower and change their clothes daily. (She did however make up for it by changing her clothes at least 3 times a day once her luggage finally arrived). We spent the week in the colonial city of Antigua, and the village of Panajachel on the edge of Lake Atitlan. Both are tourist magnets in the country, and rightfully so. Both were set in beautiful locations, with volcanoes, mountains, and cobblestone streets. It was great to spend a week relaxing with Lauren, and with all the amenities that these tourist towns had to offer.
Back in November, we took our first rest day of the Baja along a beach in Conception Bay. It was this day that we first met the Verhage family. Micheal, Ciska, and their 12 and 10 year old sons Jesse and Sammy are riding a pair of tandem bicycles from California to Chile. They left in September like us, but are taking their time and home-schooling the boys as they travel. We didn't think we'd see them again afte
r this, but then a week or so later we ran into them again in La Paz, and while I was sick they came and visited every day, and we started to build our friendship. When we decided to make our loop down to Cabo, they were heading to the mainland so we said our goodbyes one more time, and split up. Then a couple weeks later we were in San Blas along the coast of the mainland, and as we were sitting in the town plaza we spotted those familiar tandems biking by. We ran after them and again spent the afternoon together before we said goodbye. Jeff's birthday was the next day, and they stopped by our campground on their way past to wish him a happy birthday and we enjoyed their company once again.
We thought this would be the last time we would see them for awhile, but then a few days later as we were biking on the narrow, busy, hot and humid highway to Puerto Vallarta we were passed by a pickup truck with two tandem bicycles in the box, and Micheal leaning out the window smiling and waving, calling out as they took the easy way to bypass the busy road. We found out when we went online next that they had hitch-hiked over 2000 km to San Cristobal, and we thought it could be unlikely to see them again. However, luck was on our side (and perhaps against them), for while they were in Panajachel first one of their racks broke, and then after weeks of waiting for a replacement, Jesse was bitten by a street dog. You always have to suspect rabies in this part of the world, and so he was put on a 4 week vaccination schedule - which meant that they would still be there while we were. And so, for a record 6th time, we were able to spend a few days with the Verhage family. It was great to meet with old friends, and share stories from the past few months.
Micheal and Ciska have been traveling together since they were 18, and all their stories about bicycle touring even rubbed off on Lauren - she may not be ready to wear the same clothes for 2 weeks straight yet, but she's excited to maybe get into adventure cycling someday. This time saying goodbye to the family was a little more difficult, as we really do think it's unlikely to find them again on this trip. That is, unless they hitch-hike 2000 km ahead of us again, and give us a little time to catch up. You never know. We just hope that some day our paths will cross again, somewhere in the world. For now we'll keep in touch with them on their blog, and you can feel free to check it out as well.
This morning we said our difficult goodbyes to Lauren after dropping her off at the airport. We then boarded a bus back to Chiquimula, picked up our bikes, and now we're back to reality. While we were with Lauren we stayed at a couple of luxurious hotels by our standards, but today we're back to our style of accommodation - for $6.50 you get about what you pay for, a concrete box with graffiti and stains on the wall, mismatched beds and an unattached bathroom with no shower - but what more do you need? Tomorrow we will likely cross the border into Honduras, and reach the last great Mayan ruins of our trip, Copan. A new country is always exciting, and we're glad to be making progress again. We'll go hard for awhile, and see where we end up next.
Distance Cycled to Date: 9559 km
Number of different times we have seen the cycling Verhage family to date: 6
Cheapest hotel room to date: $6.50 (Canadian)
In our last post we said we were going to visit the ruins of Quirigua, and we expected to be a bit disappointed. We were right. They weren't too impressive - and worst of all, they cost 80 quetzals each ($12) to get into. And to top it off, camping in the parking lot was not as easy as we had thought it would be. But after some discussion and a phone call to somebody off site, the guards finally let us, as long as we paid our entry fees. We probably should have just stuck to the gas station along the highway.
After more uneventful cycling, we met a group of Americans, walking along the highway on the outskirts of Chiquimula, the city where we had planned to leave our bicycles for the week. One lady was on a trip similar to ours, but walking from California to Chile. We thought she was a little crazy. She makes our cycling trip seem easy. She told us how she was getting a welcoming party to the city from some local schools in the town plaza, and invited us to join her. And so we found ourselves standing on a raised stage in the centre of the plaza, with school children all around us taking pictures and speeches being made. We felt a little out of place, but just laughed at all the attention we were receiving. Through this, we met a local who (we think?) attended a Quaker Theological Seminary here in the city, and let us store our bikes there for the week. All of this was arranged through somebody translating, and we didn't really ever know what was going on - in fact, we still don't really know what was going on. But we had a courtyard inside a seminary to store our bikes that was tended to by a tiny, ancient Guatemalan lady who we could never understand, but smiled at us a lot.
Last Sunday we left our bikes behind for the first time on the trip, and boarded a bus from Chiquimula to Guatema
la City to meet my girlfriend Lauren at the airport. While it was easy to find her, her bag had been lost in Chicago, so she had to begin her trip here as we live - wearing the same clothes for a couple days. I guess we've gotten used to it over the past 6 months, but most people like to shower and change their clothes daily. (She did however make up for it by changing her clothes at least 3 times a day once her luggage finally arrived). We spent the week in the colonial city of Antigua, and the village of Panajachel on the edge of Lake Atitlan. Both are tourist magnets in the country, and rightfully so. Both were set in beautiful locations, with volcanoes, mountains, and cobblestone streets. It was great to spend a week relaxing with Lauren, and with all the amenities that these tourist towns had to offer. Back in November, we took our first rest day of the Baja along a beach in Conception Bay. It was this day that we first met the Verhage family. Micheal, Ciska, and their 12 and 10 year old sons Jesse and Sammy are riding a pair of tandem bicycles from California to Chile. They left in September like us, but are taking their time and home-schooling the boys as they travel. We didn't think we'd see them again afte
r this, but then a week or so later we ran into them again in La Paz, and while I was sick they came and visited every day, and we started to build our friendship. When we decided to make our loop down to Cabo, they were heading to the mainland so we said our goodbyes one more time, and split up. Then a couple weeks later we were in San Blas along the coast of the mainland, and as we were sitting in the town plaza we spotted those familiar tandems biking by. We ran after them and again spent the afternoon together before we said goodbye. Jeff's birthday was the next day, and they stopped by our campground on their way past to wish him a happy birthday and we enjoyed their company once again.We thought this would be the last time we would see them for awhile, but then a few days later as we were biking on the narrow, busy, hot and humid highway to Puerto Vallarta we were passed by a pickup truck with two tandem bicycles in the box, and Micheal leaning out the window smiling and waving, calling out as they took the easy way to bypass the busy road. We found out when we went online next that they had hitch-hiked over 2000 km to San Cristobal, and we thought it could be unlikely to see them again. However, luck was on our side (and perhaps against them), for while they were in Panajachel first one of their racks broke, and then after weeks of waiting for a replacement, Jesse was bitten by a street dog. You always have to suspect rabies in this part of the world, and so he was put on a 4 week vaccination schedule - which meant that they would still be there while we were. And so, for a record 6th time, we were able to spend a few days with the Verhage family. It was great to meet with old friends, and share stories from the past few months.
Micheal and Ciska have been traveling together since they were 18, and all their stories about bicycle touring even rubbed off on Lauren - she may not be ready to wear the same clothes for 2 weeks straight yet, but she's excited to maybe get into adventure cycling someday. This time saying goodbye to the family was a little more difficult, as we really do think it's unlikely to find them again on this trip. That is, unless they hitch-hike 2000 km ahead of us again, and give us a little time to catch up. You never know. We just hope that some day our paths will cross again, somewhere in the world. For now we'll keep in touch with them on their blog, and you can feel free to check it out as well.
This morning we said our difficult goodbyes to Lauren after dropping her off at the airport. We then boarded a bus back to Chiquimula, picked up our bikes, and now we're back to reality. While we were with Lauren we stayed at a couple of luxurious hotels by our standards, but today we're back to our style of accommodation - for $6.50 you get about what you pay for, a concrete box with graffiti and stains on the wall, mismatched beds and an unattached bathroom with no shower - but what more do you need? Tomorrow we will likely cross the border into Honduras, and reach the last great Mayan ruins of our trip, Copan. A new country is always exciting, and we're glad to be making progress again. We'll go hard for awhile, and see where we end up next.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Tikal - worth every penny.
Current Location: Rio Dulce, Guatemala
Distance cycled to date: 9374 km
Number of days since we left home: 163
Number of nights we've slept in our tent to date: 107
Number of pictures taken at Tikal: 257
Our short ride from Flores to Tikal started off slowly, with each of us getting flat tires in the first 10 km stretch. However, this was quickly forgotten as we got closer and closer to Tikal, arriving in the early evening. We found out that we could purchase our tickets the night before for the next morning, and we could even go into the ruins for the last hour of daylight so we quickly grabbed a camera, coughed up the over $50 (Canadian) entrance fees for the both of us, and made our way into the jungle, starting the 20 minute walk to the Grand Plaza to Tikal.
Finally emerging from the
jungle path and catching our first glimpse of an imposing temple in the Grand Plaza was incredible. We had imagined hordes of tourists all over the place, but as we came into the plaza we found ourselves alone. With the setting sun lighting up Temple I with a soft glow, we were in awe of the beauty of the ruins. Five others eventually came, and the seven of us sat on top of a pyramid, watching the glow slowly disappear as the sun set on what was once one of the greatest cities of North America.
The next morning was an even more incredible experience. Waking up before 5 am and cooking our breakfast under the star filled sky, we were
the first at the gates to enter. After the guards finally let us in, we nearly ran the entire way of what was supposed to be a 40 minute walk to the highest temple of Tikal. It took us almost 20 minutes, but we made it before the sun rose. We ran up the stairs to the top and as we reached the top, out of breath, we were welcomed by a small group of 10 or so people. Apparantly their is a guy who bribes the guards and drives a small truckload of people up to catch the sunrise - but even with all of us together on top of the temple, it felt as if you were the only one up there. Everybody treated it very solemnly, speaking in whispers as we listened to the howler monkeys roaring from their tree tops, and watched the sun slowly light up the foggy patches on the horizen before finally touching the peaks of the temples reaching out of the jungle in the distance. Needless to say, it was a majestic moment, and one that hopefully neither of us will ever forget.
We spent the day walking back and forth through the ruins, climbing stairs and doing what both of us felt was much more exercise than we usually do in a day of cycling. Neither of us could stop taking pictures, and we lost count of the number of times ones of us exclaimed "this is amazing!". If any of you have the chance to visit Tikal, we would highly recommend it. Although when you come, make sure you bring enough quetzals along to pay the entrance fee. We had to count down to our last penny in order to pay for our campsite there. But all in all, it was worth it, hands down.
From Tikal we had to backtrack a little towards Flores, and now we're heading south towards Guatemala City. We're very excited to spend some time off our bikes next week around Antigua and Lake Atitlan with my girlfriend Lauren who is coming to spend her reading week with us. Not only am I very excited to see her, but we're also looking forward to seeing these sights in the highlands without having to ride our bikes up and down mountains!
Our days of stealth camping seem to be over, as we've found Guatemala to be fenced in everywhere. We're now switching almost full time to gas station camping, which we've found to be an even better alternative. We're not hidden in the ditch anymore, but we have bathrooms, a small store, and numerous friendly gas attendants to watch over us. So far so good - now it's just a matter of finding gas stations. Tomorrow we will reach the not-so-well-known Mayan ruins of Quirigua, which we thought we might as well check out. Plus, we hear you can camp in the parking lot, so it's a win-win, really. Likely all the ruins we see from this point will be a bit of a let-down after Tikal, but we'll let you know.
Also - we got our photo albums online! Check out Mexico Pacific Coast, and Oaxaca & Chiapas, Mexico. It's kind of a lot of photos all at once, but it's a couple months worth. We picked out a varied selection of the best to give you a glimpse of what we see.
Distance cycled to date: 9374 km
Number of days since we left home: 163
Number of nights we've slept in our tent to date: 107
Number of pictures taken at Tikal: 257
Our short ride from Flores to Tikal started off slowly, with each of us getting flat tires in the first 10 km stretch. However, this was quickly forgotten as we got closer and closer to Tikal, arriving in the early evening. We found out that we could purchase our tickets the night before for the next morning, and we could even go into the ruins for the last hour of daylight so we quickly grabbed a camera, coughed up the over $50 (Canadian) entrance fees for the both of us, and made our way into the jungle, starting the 20 minute walk to the Grand Plaza to Tikal.
Finally emerging from the
jungle path and catching our first glimpse of an imposing temple in the Grand Plaza was incredible. We had imagined hordes of tourists all over the place, but as we came into the plaza we found ourselves alone. With the setting sun lighting up Temple I with a soft glow, we were in awe of the beauty of the ruins. Five others eventually came, and the seven of us sat on top of a pyramid, watching the glow slowly disappear as the sun set on what was once one of the greatest cities of North America.The next morning was an even more incredible experience. Waking up before 5 am and cooking our breakfast under the star filled sky, we were
the first at the gates to enter. After the guards finally let us in, we nearly ran the entire way of what was supposed to be a 40 minute walk to the highest temple of Tikal. It took us almost 20 minutes, but we made it before the sun rose. We ran up the stairs to the top and as we reached the top, out of breath, we were welcomed by a small group of 10 or so people. Apparantly their is a guy who bribes the guards and drives a small truckload of people up to catch the sunrise - but even with all of us together on top of the temple, it felt as if you were the only one up there. Everybody treated it very solemnly, speaking in whispers as we listened to the howler monkeys roaring from their tree tops, and watched the sun slowly light up the foggy patches on the horizen before finally touching the peaks of the temples reaching out of the jungle in the distance. Needless to say, it was a majestic moment, and one that hopefully neither of us will ever forget.We spent the day walking back and forth through the ruins, climbing stairs and doing what both of us felt was much more exercise than we usually do in a day of cycling. Neither of us could stop taking pictures, and we lost count of the number of times ones of us exclaimed "this is amazing!". If any of you have the chance to visit Tikal, we would highly recommend it. Although when you come, make sure you bring enough quetzals along to pay the entrance fee. We had to count down to our last penny in order to pay for our campsite there. But all in all, it was worth it, hands down.
From Tikal we had to backtrack a little towards Flores, and now we're heading south towards Guatemala City. We're very excited to spend some time off our bikes next week around Antigua and Lake Atitlan with my girlfriend Lauren who is coming to spend her reading week with us. Not only am I very excited to see her, but we're also looking forward to seeing these sights in the highlands without having to ride our bikes up and down mountains!
Our days of stealth camping seem to be over, as we've found Guatemala to be fenced in everywhere. We're now switching almost full time to gas station camping, which we've found to be an even better alternative. We're not hidden in the ditch anymore, but we have bathrooms, a small store, and numerous friendly gas attendants to watch over us. So far so good - now it's just a matter of finding gas stations. Tomorrow we will reach the not-so-well-known Mayan ruins of Quirigua, which we thought we might as well check out. Plus, we hear you can camp in the parking lot, so it's a win-win, really. Likely all the ruins we see from this point will be a bit of a let-down after Tikal, but we'll let you know.
Also - we got our photo albums online! Check out Mexico Pacific Coast, and Oaxaca & Chiapas, Mexico. It's kind of a lot of photos all at once, but it's a couple months worth. We picked out a varied selection of the best to give you a glimpse of what we see.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Overall rating of Mexico: 5 stars.
Current Location: Flores, Guatemala
Distance Cycled to Date: 9053 km
Distance cycled in Mexico: 5089 km
Nights spent in Mexico: 90
Number of nights we payed for accommodation in Mexico: 16
Number of days it rained on us in Mexico: 1
Pictures taken in Mexico: 2721
Flat tires in Mexico: 2 (Jeff - 1, Keenan - 1)
Finally - we made it through Mexico. Is it ever a big country. We knew going into it that we'd be there for awhile, but we didn't really anticipate it taking 3 months. Looking back, it was a pretty great experience, and it's hard to believe that we cycled over 5000 km in a single country. That's more than the USA and Canada combined. That's a lot.
When we crossed into the Baja we had no idea what to expect, and we gradually became used to our new surroundings. Mexico has changed a whole lot from Tijuana down to Palenque, and we've changed our style a bit to match it. We're no longer strangers to camping right beside the highway, and fences don't scare us like they used to. We've realized that you can always find a camp spot, no matter where you are. We've also realized that people are pretty friendly, and are almost always there to help you.
We met a lot of very nice people. We like Mexicans. Besides one or two days, almost every memory is positive. Almost everywhere we went, people would call out and wave, and we've begun to feel like minor celebrities as we cycle down the highway. It just seems natural that everybody would wave and talk to us. We notice it the most when we're off our bikes in our 'street clothes' - when people honk and wave we almost instinctively wave back - only to realize that now they're not waving at us; we're normal tourists like everybody else.
We had received a lot of warnings before reaching Mexico about crime and untrustworthy police, about poor roads and crazy drivers. We've come to see how far from the truth those stereotypes are. Almost everybody that we've met has tried to help us in some way, and we almost never felt like we were being ripped off or scammed. We came to appreciate the relaxed attitudes everybody had, especially in regards to camping. Of course we could camp for free on the beach. Or why not in the town plaza? Or even in my yard if you'd like! Nobody minded, and every night we would go to bed feeling quite safe.
We left Palenque and headed for the border a few days ago. We reached Frontera Corozal sooner than we expected, and down a better road than we had hoped for. It was a very quick and easy procedure getting across - in fact, it happened so quickly we didn't even have time to eat some lunch or spend our last pesos. The boat office called us over, sold us a ticket, and suddenly our captain was cycling ahead of us, taking us to immigration. A quick stamp, no fees, and we were on our way to the boat. We lifted them into what was pretty much a motorized, covered canoe, and made the 25 minute boat ride up the Usumacinta river to Bethel, Guatemala. After pushing our bikes up the bank, we were pretty much clueless as how to proceed. But we were in Guatemala.
We guessed right at every unmarked intersection down a terrible, brutal gravel road, and arrived at Immigration, a couple kilometres out of town. Another quick stamp, no fees, and we were officially in Guatemala. No border town would be complete without some sort of ripoff though, and so after much debate we finally bought a litre and a half of water (since we had none) for nearly $4 Canadian. We silently hoped the road would improve after immigration, but of course that wasn't the case and we made our way slowly for the next 65 km down the rocky, rough road. This trip seemed to reinforce any kind of celebrity status that we may have had in Mexico as every man, woman and child along the route would stop what they were doing, smile, and wave at us. Looking back down the road, we could always see the collection of children standing at the roadside watching us bike away. It was fun.
As we made our way down the road, we realized that we would not make it to Las Cruces, the closest town, before dark. The road was completely fenced in, with no ditches, and even with the combination of our low standards and our ever-improving stealth camping skills it didn't look promising. However, as has always been the case on this trip, we were provided for. After stopping at a drink stand that a family had set up in front of their farm to inquire how far it was to Las Cruces, we were invited not only to camp on their land, but to stay inside an old house on their property, and we were treated to some fresh homemade cheese and buns.
Today we are in Flores, just a short ride away from the Mayan ruins of Tikal. So far everybody has been great here in Guatemala, however our one complaint is that it is not the bargain that we thought it would be. Prices haven't dropped since Mexico - in fact, they've risen considerably. We have to hunt pretty hard to find a deal for food here. It's made us appreciate that peso more and more. Hopefully as we head further south costs will start to improve.
So - tomorrow, Tikal. This is one of the major sights that we've been eagerly anticipating since even long before buying our bicycles. As much as we loved Mexico, we are very excited to finally be in a new country. It's also very excited to see just how short the distances are here - finally, we're going to start making some noticeable progress.
We've been trying to put up our photo albums for the Pacific Coast of Mexico, and Oaxaca and Chiapas (that's right - we've got 2 albums ready to go). However, the internet keeps letting us down. So they should be up there soon. We'll keep you up to date. For now, we'll head off into the jungle and see what we can discover. Mexico is done, but we still have a whole lot more to see.
Our overall rating of Mexico: 5 stars
Distance Cycled to Date: 9053 km
Distance cycled in Mexico: 5089 km
Nights spent in Mexico: 90
Number of nights we payed for accommodation in Mexico: 16
Number of days it rained on us in Mexico: 1
Pictures taken in Mexico: 2721
Flat tires in Mexico: 2 (Jeff - 1, Keenan - 1)
Finally - we made it through Mexico. Is it ever a big country. We knew going into it that we'd be there for awhile, but we didn't really anticipate it taking 3 months. Looking back, it was a pretty great experience, and it's hard to believe that we cycled over 5000 km in a single country. That's more than the USA and Canada combined. That's a lot.
When we crossed into the Baja we had no idea what to expect, and we gradually became used to our new surroundings. Mexico has changed a whole lot from Tijuana down to Palenque, and we've changed our style a bit to match it. We're no longer strangers to camping right beside the highway, and fences don't scare us like they used to. We've realized that you can always find a camp spot, no matter where you are. We've also realized that people are pretty friendly, and are almost always there to help you.
We met a lot of very nice people. We like Mexicans. Besides one or two days, almost every memory is positive. Almost everywhere we went, people would call out and wave, and we've begun to feel like minor celebrities as we cycle down the highway. It just seems natural that everybody would wave and talk to us. We notice it the most when we're off our bikes in our 'street clothes' - when people honk and wave we almost instinctively wave back - only to realize that now they're not waving at us; we're normal tourists like everybody else.
We had received a lot of warnings before reaching Mexico about crime and untrustworthy police, about poor roads and crazy drivers. We've come to see how far from the truth those stereotypes are. Almost everybody that we've met has tried to help us in some way, and we almost never felt like we were being ripped off or scammed. We came to appreciate the relaxed attitudes everybody had, especially in regards to camping. Of course we could camp for free on the beach. Or why not in the town plaza? Or even in my yard if you'd like! Nobody minded, and every night we would go to bed feeling quite safe.
We left Palenque and headed for the border a few days ago. We reached Frontera Corozal sooner than we expected, and down a better road than we had hoped for. It was a very quick and easy procedure getting across - in fact, it happened so quickly we didn't even have time to eat some lunch or spend our last pesos. The boat office called us over, sold us a ticket, and suddenly our captain was cycling ahead of us, taking us to immigration. A quick stamp, no fees, and we were on our way to the boat. We lifted them into what was pretty much a motorized, covered canoe, and made the 25 minute boat ride up the Usumacinta river to Bethel, Guatemala. After pushing our bikes up the bank, we were pretty much clueless as how to proceed. But we were in Guatemala.
We guessed right at every unmarked intersection down a terrible, brutal gravel road, and arrived at Immigration, a couple kilometres out of town. Another quick stamp, no fees, and we were officially in Guatemala. No border town would be complete without some sort of ripoff though, and so after much debate we finally bought a litre and a half of water (since we had none) for nearly $4 Canadian. We silently hoped the road would improve after immigration, but of course that wasn't the case and we made our way slowly for the next 65 km down the rocky, rough road. This trip seemed to reinforce any kind of celebrity status that we may have had in Mexico as every man, woman and child along the route would stop what they were doing, smile, and wave at us. Looking back down the road, we could always see the collection of children standing at the roadside watching us bike away. It was fun.
As we made our way down the road, we realized that we would not make it to Las Cruces, the closest town, before dark. The road was completely fenced in, with no ditches, and even with the combination of our low standards and our ever-improving stealth camping skills it didn't look promising. However, as has always been the case on this trip, we were provided for. After stopping at a drink stand that a family had set up in front of their farm to inquire how far it was to Las Cruces, we were invited not only to camp on their land, but to stay inside an old house on their property, and we were treated to some fresh homemade cheese and buns.
Today we are in Flores, just a short ride away from the Mayan ruins of Tikal. So far everybody has been great here in Guatemala, however our one complaint is that it is not the bargain that we thought it would be. Prices haven't dropped since Mexico - in fact, they've risen considerably. We have to hunt pretty hard to find a deal for food here. It's made us appreciate that peso more and more. Hopefully as we head further south costs will start to improve.
So - tomorrow, Tikal. This is one of the major sights that we've been eagerly anticipating since even long before buying our bicycles. As much as we loved Mexico, we are very excited to finally be in a new country. It's also very excited to see just how short the distances are here - finally, we're going to start making some noticeable progress.
We've been trying to put up our photo albums for the Pacific Coast of Mexico, and Oaxaca and Chiapas (that's right - we've got 2 albums ready to go). However, the internet keeps letting us down. So they should be up there soon. We'll keep you up to date. For now, we'll head off into the jungle and see what we can discover. Mexico is done, but we still have a whole lot more to see.
Our overall rating of Mexico: 5 stars
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