Quit our jobs, sold our home and everything in it, gone riding...
- Thread starter Lightcycle
- Start date
Updated from http://www.RideDOT.com/rtw/85.html
After a week of Spanish classes in Xela, we get back on our motorcycles and explore Guatemala a bit more. Pananjachel is about an hour and a half outside of Xela, on a very entertaining twisty road up and through the mountains of the highlands.
Misty mountainside - temperatures got quite cold, dipping to single digits!
Passing by many fields covering the landscape of the Guatemalan Highlands
Cheers for the bling on this Chicken Bus!
Winner, Winner, Chicken (bus) Dinner!
We got a bit lost in Pana, looking for the hostel that the the folks in Xela recommended. It was quite a claustrophic adventure navigating the many tiny alleyways off the main Calle Santander, some of them small enough to only fit a Tuk Tuk or motorcycle - traffic has to wait at either end of the street until one vehicle has made it through!
Looking for our hostel
Uh oh, dead end. Believe or not, my 12GS did a 3-point turn to get out! No, actually, it was a 12-point turn...
Neda gets some helpful directions
So narrow!
After a week of Spanish classes in Xela, we get back on our motorcycles and explore Guatemala a bit more. Pananjachel is about an hour and a half outside of Xela, on a very entertaining twisty road up and through the mountains of the highlands.
Misty mountainside - temperatures got quite cold, dipping to single digits!
Passing by many fields covering the landscape of the Guatemalan Highlands
Cheers for the bling on this Chicken Bus!
Winner, Winner, Chicken (bus) Dinner!
We got a bit lost in Pana, looking for the hostel that the the folks in Xela recommended. It was quite a claustrophic adventure navigating the many tiny alleyways off the main Calle Santander, some of them small enough to only fit a Tuk Tuk or motorcycle - traffic has to wait at either end of the street until one vehicle has made it through!
Looking for our hostel
Uh oh, dead end. Believe or not, my 12GS did a 3-point turn to get out! No, actually, it was a 12-point turn...
Neda gets some helpful directions
So narrow!
Finally, we found our hostel and the parking lot is narrower than the streets!
The hostel employs a colourful security guard that yells out "Hola!" whenever anyone gets close to our bikes
Vendors selling clothing off Calle Santander, Panajachel's main street
Panajachel is mainly known for its street vendors and markets, and is a popular place to launch trips across Lake Atitlan to other locations, like San Pedro. We are only here for four days, so we just hang around town, walking around the stalls and sampling some of the delicious food.
Hanging out with Ling, the owner of Chinitas
While we were in Panajachel, Guatemala, we ate dinner at a fantastic Malaysian restaurant. The owner came out to greet us and was surprised and delighted to find out I was Malaysian as well. Free dessert for the Malaysian Customer of the Day -- cause there are so many that come in every single day...
Surrounded by volcanoes, Lake Atitlan is the deepest lake in Central America
The people walking around here are a curious mix of indigenous Maya vendors, typical gringo tourists and hippie residents that migrated here in the 60s. They left in droves after war broke out, but repopulated again in the mid-90s. In Xela, we talked with our teachers and they remembered the civil war vividly, about how families were torn apart, sons of the villages drafted by the military to kill their own townspeople or be killed themselves. It was such a sad history that is still remembered by anyone over the age of 30.
Tuk Tuks drafting through the streets of Panajachel
Hey, it's the same Chicken Bus we saw on the road to Pana!
Lorenzo's Land
Trying to find a nice wrap to go with his shoes
Getting my finger chewed on by a cute puppy
Neda does some chain maintenance with a little help from Ashley Heins---
Our hostel has a kitchen, so Neda whipped us up a great salad and we ate with our bikes
Updated from http://www.RideDOT.com/rtw/86.html
We never wanted this trip to be a trek. We didn't want our blog to read "xx miles, xx countries in xx days" because that was like all our other motorcycle trips, rushing through exotic countries and only seeing the 200 feet on either side of the road as we sped towards the end of our allotted vacation days for the year.
Unfortunately, we had made an appointment many months ago, that at the time seemed to give us a lot of leeway to meander on our journey. Lately, the clock has started ticking down and we find ourselves running out of runway, as there are a couple thousand kms and 5 border crossings we have to make in the next 10 days. Impossible, given our current pace.
We've made the decision to come straight back to Central America after our appointment - there is just too much that we're missing. So I've condensed the next week and a half of travels into a single entry because it sucks too much to spend a lot of time on it. And also we didn't really see anything...
Here are some notes on our trip down the PanAmerican Highway:
Taking the dog out for a spin
Group ride out of Pana!
We left hastily out of Pana. In the rush, I lost a really good pair of earphones. I know, blah blah, first world problems... We feel like we're being torn away from Guatemala without having seen everything we wanted to see, so this is exactly where we're going to return to, to resume our Central American tour.
Accident on the PanAm in Guatemala
The PanAmerican Highway is not really one defined road, but a collection of routes that span from Prudhoe Bay in Alaska all the way to the southern tip of Argentina. Despite many detours along the way, we've basically followed the PanAm on our trip after criss-crossing Canada. Through Central America, it's a fairly well-maintained stretch of pavement with some interesting sections that pass through mountains and volcanoes, but on our return, it would be nice to see what else lies off this well-beaten path.
Aduana at the El Salvador border
Aduana is Spanish for "nap"
Finally, we're through!
Crossing into El Salvador, we are delayed because the Vehicle Importation Computer is down. We sit for four hours waiting for the system to come back up and by the time we get through the border, the sun is getting lower in the sky. We don't want to travel at night, so in desperation we book into an Auto Hotel just outside of San Salvador.
The infamous Auto Hotel in Central America is also called a Love Hotel, and is usually rented out by the hour, if you get what I mean... Each room has its own private garage with a door that closes. We thought it was for security, but it's really to hide the license plate of the car parked there for a few hours.
All communication with hotel staff is done through a small cupboard at one end of the room with doors inside the room and outside into the office. You never have to see or speak to staff, just deposit your money in the cupboard, close the door, they open it on the other side and deposit towels and soaps (and condoms) for you. Mirrors are strategically placed beside the bed and there is a paper towel dispenser within reach to clean up any messes.
I thought it was hilarious! Neda was kinda grossed out. We slept in the one remaining sleeping bag that wasn't stolen back in Guatemala...
Our most memorable crossing, and not for good reasons... Honduras
El Salvador came and went in a day, and I was battling fatigue because I didn't get a good night's sleep in the Love Hotel. I must have also picked up a flu overnight, but we forged ahead to the Honduras. Despite it being very early in the day, I wanted to stop and find a place to sleep before reaching the border to recuperate, but Neda was convinced we could cross two borders in one day and reach Nicaragua for the evening. I wasn't feeling up to it, but since Neda was doing all the work at the immigration and customs offices, my only duty was to stay conscious and keep the bike upright.
As we approached Honduras, we were swarmed by a mob of "helpers" offering to speed us through all the red tape for a fee. Most dropped away when they heard Neda's fluent Spanish, but one hung on despite our polite refusal, following us from office to office peppering us with helpful tips and hints, hoping to guilt us into paying him... Nice try...
Through my feverish haze, I saw Neda run back and forth through 3 or 4 different offices trying to get our bikes stamped into the country. Everytime I asked what she was doing, she replied, "Making photocopies!" Apparently, in this day and age when EVERYTHING is computerized, Central American governments have invested heavily in shares of Xerox and Domtar...
I was in charge of holding the documents as we biked from immigration to customs. When you carry everything you own on a motorcycle, every item has its place. Because we were changing our routine, I was now keeping our documents in my tankbag instead of in one of the lockable cases. Which meant that my motorcycle gloves, which I normally keep in my tankbag, were now in... I still have no idea...
Those were really good gloves, too.
Motoring through Honduras - elapsed time in the country: 2.5 hours
We raced through the tiny stretch of the PanAm in Honduras and reached the Nicaraguan border very late in the day and I was a bit upset that we would be riding through the dark to reach the hotel we had reserved. Throughout the last couple of days, we've been bickering at each other, especially at border crossings. It's a stressful time getting yourselves through, much less importing a vehicle into the country as well. I was dealing with a flu and feeling frustrated that I was unable to help because of my inadequate Spanish. Add to it that I'm not coping very well with the heat and humidity and Neda doesn't cope very well when she's hungry...
This is not fun for either of us. It's not even fun writing this down and I just want to end this entry but it's important to have a record of all this "not fun" later. Much later...
Aduana at Nicaragua
Some helpers approach us at the Nicaraguan border, but not as many as at the Honduras. It seems that the Honduran border is the most complicated process to negotiate in Central America, and the number of helpers reflect that. El Salvador was easy - no helpers there. So now when we approach a new border crossing, we can gauge how easy it will be by how many helpers swarm us! Useful, practical information!
Nicaragua. yay. *yawn*
Having knocked down 3 of 5 border crossings, we bought ourselves a little downtime - especially for me to get over my flu. We stopped for a few nights in Estelie, Nicaragua - actually for a couple of nights longer than we expected we would because I gave Neda my flu. So we were both bedridden at the same time. OMG, so much UnFUN, I can't handle it!
Motoring through Nicaragua
"Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh, Here I am at..."
Perhaps the only picture we took of Granada. Didn't see a thing...
Next border, Costa Rica. Didn't see a thing. But it was the most expensive nothing we saw...
Somwhere along the way, it got cold and foggy on the PanAm
By this time, Neda is a pro at border crossings, so this was one of the easier ones
We arrived in Panama licking our wounds. So far over the last week and a half, we've both gotten sick, I've lost a pair of earphones and a pair of motorcycle gloves, left my credit card in a restaurant and had to have it couriered back to us while we were en route, saw nothing but road, took no pictures... All because we're rushing to meet a deadline. This was not why we left our jobs and sold everything! We vowed, no more booking stuff in advance, even if it's months away! Just one day at a time from now on. If that means missing out on some opportunities tomorrow, that's okay as long as we don't have to rush through today. It's just not worth it.
On an upbeat note, all these border-crossing ordeals have been good practice for when we return to see Central America properly! Neda is going to try to make a few bucks on the side being a helper...
Drummers practicing in Panama City
For the last few months, we've been in constant contact with Kari and Rose, the fellow Canadian bikers who we met in Oaxaca. They were also in Panama City, so we spent a few days comparing notes, exchanging GPS files and sharing a few meals together. It was nice having some familiar faces to hang out with.
Bikes get their first bath in months
While in Panama City, we took time to get everything sorted out - shopping for supplies and taking care of the motorcycles. We dropped into the local BMW dealership to replace the gloves I lost at the Honduran border. While we were there, we popped into the service centre to see if they had the plug for my headlight. They didn't have the part in stock, but the technician told me to bring the bike in anyway.
Less than an hour later, he had fixed the light, jury-rigging it with a couple of blade connectors! Best part, it was free of charge! So let's end this entry on a happy note! Yay!
We never wanted this trip to be a trek. We didn't want our blog to read "xx miles, xx countries in xx days" because that was like all our other motorcycle trips, rushing through exotic countries and only seeing the 200 feet on either side of the road as we sped towards the end of our allotted vacation days for the year.
Unfortunately, we had made an appointment many months ago, that at the time seemed to give us a lot of leeway to meander on our journey. Lately, the clock has started ticking down and we find ourselves running out of runway, as there are a couple thousand kms and 5 border crossings we have to make in the next 10 days. Impossible, given our current pace.
We've made the decision to come straight back to Central America after our appointment - there is just too much that we're missing. So I've condensed the next week and a half of travels into a single entry because it sucks too much to spend a lot of time on it. And also we didn't really see anything...
Here are some notes on our trip down the PanAmerican Highway:
Taking the dog out for a spin
Group ride out of Pana!
We left hastily out of Pana. In the rush, I lost a really good pair of earphones. I know, blah blah, first world problems... We feel like we're being torn away from Guatemala without having seen everything we wanted to see, so this is exactly where we're going to return to, to resume our Central American tour.
Accident on the PanAm in Guatemala
The PanAmerican Highway is not really one defined road, but a collection of routes that span from Prudhoe Bay in Alaska all the way to the southern tip of Argentina. Despite many detours along the way, we've basically followed the PanAm on our trip after criss-crossing Canada. Through Central America, it's a fairly well-maintained stretch of pavement with some interesting sections that pass through mountains and volcanoes, but on our return, it would be nice to see what else lies off this well-beaten path.
Aduana at the El Salvador border
Aduana is Spanish for "nap"
Finally, we're through!
Crossing into El Salvador, we are delayed because the Vehicle Importation Computer is down. We sit for four hours waiting for the system to come back up and by the time we get through the border, the sun is getting lower in the sky. We don't want to travel at night, so in desperation we book into an Auto Hotel just outside of San Salvador.
The infamous Auto Hotel in Central America is also called a Love Hotel, and is usually rented out by the hour, if you get what I mean... Each room has its own private garage with a door that closes. We thought it was for security, but it's really to hide the license plate of the car parked there for a few hours.
All communication with hotel staff is done through a small cupboard at one end of the room with doors inside the room and outside into the office. You never have to see or speak to staff, just deposit your money in the cupboard, close the door, they open it on the other side and deposit towels and soaps (and condoms) for you. Mirrors are strategically placed beside the bed and there is a paper towel dispenser within reach to clean up any messes.
I thought it was hilarious! Neda was kinda grossed out. We slept in the one remaining sleeping bag that wasn't stolen back in Guatemala...
Our most memorable crossing, and not for good reasons... Honduras
El Salvador came and went in a day, and I was battling fatigue because I didn't get a good night's sleep in the Love Hotel. I must have also picked up a flu overnight, but we forged ahead to the Honduras. Despite it being very early in the day, I wanted to stop and find a place to sleep before reaching the border to recuperate, but Neda was convinced we could cross two borders in one day and reach Nicaragua for the evening. I wasn't feeling up to it, but since Neda was doing all the work at the immigration and customs offices, my only duty was to stay conscious and keep the bike upright.
As we approached Honduras, we were swarmed by a mob of "helpers" offering to speed us through all the red tape for a fee. Most dropped away when they heard Neda's fluent Spanish, but one hung on despite our polite refusal, following us from office to office peppering us with helpful tips and hints, hoping to guilt us into paying him... Nice try...
Through my feverish haze, I saw Neda run back and forth through 3 or 4 different offices trying to get our bikes stamped into the country. Everytime I asked what she was doing, she replied, "Making photocopies!" Apparently, in this day and age when EVERYTHING is computerized, Central American governments have invested heavily in shares of Xerox and Domtar...
I was in charge of holding the documents as we biked from immigration to customs. When you carry everything you own on a motorcycle, every item has its place. Because we were changing our routine, I was now keeping our documents in my tankbag instead of in one of the lockable cases. Which meant that my motorcycle gloves, which I normally keep in my tankbag, were now in... I still have no idea...
Those were really good gloves, too.
Motoring through Honduras - elapsed time in the country: 2.5 hours
We raced through the tiny stretch of the PanAm in Honduras and reached the Nicaraguan border very late in the day and I was a bit upset that we would be riding through the dark to reach the hotel we had reserved. Throughout the last couple of days, we've been bickering at each other, especially at border crossings. It's a stressful time getting yourselves through, much less importing a vehicle into the country as well. I was dealing with a flu and feeling frustrated that I was unable to help because of my inadequate Spanish. Add to it that I'm not coping very well with the heat and humidity and Neda doesn't cope very well when she's hungry...
This is not fun for either of us. It's not even fun writing this down and I just want to end this entry but it's important to have a record of all this "not fun" later. Much later...
Aduana at Nicaragua
Some helpers approach us at the Nicaraguan border, but not as many as at the Honduras. It seems that the Honduran border is the most complicated process to negotiate in Central America, and the number of helpers reflect that. El Salvador was easy - no helpers there. So now when we approach a new border crossing, we can gauge how easy it will be by how many helpers swarm us! Useful, practical information!
Nicaragua. yay. *yawn*
Having knocked down 3 of 5 border crossings, we bought ourselves a little downtime - especially for me to get over my flu. We stopped for a few nights in Estelie, Nicaragua - actually for a couple of nights longer than we expected we would because I gave Neda my flu. So we were both bedridden at the same time. OMG, so much UnFUN, I can't handle it!
Motoring through Nicaragua
"Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh, Here I am at..."
Perhaps the only picture we took of Granada. Didn't see a thing...
Next border, Costa Rica. Didn't see a thing. But it was the most expensive nothing we saw...
Somwhere along the way, it got cold and foggy on the PanAm
By this time, Neda is a pro at border crossings, so this was one of the easier ones
We arrived in Panama licking our wounds. So far over the last week and a half, we've both gotten sick, I've lost a pair of earphones and a pair of motorcycle gloves, left my credit card in a restaurant and had to have it couriered back to us while we were en route, saw nothing but road, took no pictures... All because we're rushing to meet a deadline. This was not why we left our jobs and sold everything! We vowed, no more booking stuff in advance, even if it's months away! Just one day at a time from now on. If that means missing out on some opportunities tomorrow, that's okay as long as we don't have to rush through today. It's just not worth it.
On an upbeat note, all these border-crossing ordeals have been good practice for when we return to see Central America properly! Neda is going to try to make a few bucks on the side being a helper...
Drummers practicing in Panama City
For the last few months, we've been in constant contact with Kari and Rose, the fellow Canadian bikers who we met in Oaxaca. They were also in Panama City, so we spent a few days comparing notes, exchanging GPS files and sharing a few meals together. It was nice having some familiar faces to hang out with.
Bikes get their first bath in months
While in Panama City, we took time to get everything sorted out - shopping for supplies and taking care of the motorcycles. We dropped into the local BMW dealership to replace the gloves I lost at the Honduran border. While we were there, we popped into the service centre to see if they had the plug for my headlight. They didn't have the part in stock, but the technician told me to bring the bike in anyway.
Less than an hour later, he had fixed the light, jury-rigging it with a couple of blade connectors! Best part, it was free of charge! So let's end this entry on a happy note! Yay!
I think this is the most amazing blog Ive seen
+10
(I had to do 10 because the forum won't let me put less than three characters?? )
homme de fer
Well-known member
I'm glad you posted the "unfun" part of your trip. It's a good reminder that travelling isn't like destinating; there are "dues" you need to pay in order to achieve the highs. However, those lows are usually what makes you appreciate the highs even more.
Best wishes.
Best wishes.
killerkeith
Well-known member
So what was the appointment?
Update from http://www.RideDOT.com/rtw/87.html
We're here for our scheduled appointment.
Google Maps tells us that there is no way to get from North America to South America by road. The Darien Forest, or Darien Gap, starts at the southern tip of Panama and runs all the way to Colombia. Apparently, this a real life Forest of Despair, but instead of Rodents of Unusual Sizes, they have Poison Arrow Dart Frogs! And no fireswamp or lightning sand, but plenty of Marxist Guerillas with Gun of Unusual Sizes!
We turn off the PanAm Highway, and take a windy road through thick Panamanian rain forests
The PanAmerican Highway stops at the edge of the Darien Forest. Despite several construction attempts, no road connects the two continents because of the ecological damage it would cause to the indigenous tribes and wildlife that live there, and the governments involved do not want to create an easy path for drug smugglers to traffic narcotics from Colombia up to North America.
Interestingly, the Darien Gap has also prevented the spread of diseases from South America into Central and North America, like foot and mouth disease.
Everywhere in Central America, our GPSes fascinate the locals
There are only two ways to cross the Darien Gap, by sea or by air. We opt for the water option, so we have to travel a couple of hours from Panama City to a pier at the deserted Carti Airport, on the Caribbean coast of Panama. The road twists through miles of lush, green jungles and of course, because we washed the bikes in Panama City the day before, it rains on us...
Parked on the shores of Carti beach, our ride waiting in the distance
Talking with Cornelius, another moto-nomad from Australia
We're travelling with a lot of familiar faces on this leg of our journey. We met Trevor at the Horizons Unlimited meeting in California last October, and saw Cornelius there as well but didn't get a chance to speak to him. I had a feeling we would get to know everyone on board a lot better in the next few days!
The Stahlratte, German for "Steel Rat", is a pirate ship, capable of escaping FARC Insurgents and making the Kessel Run in less than 12 parsecs
After a lot of research, we chose the Stahlratte to cross the Darien Gap. This is the appointment we were rushing through Central America to make. It started life 110 years ago as a fishing vessel and has lived many lives since then, from a Rainbow Warrior for Greenpeace till now, a Round-The-World sailboat that has gotten "stuck" in the Caribbean, living the sun-drenched dream and ferrying passengers between Panama, Colombia and the islands in between for the last 8 years to fund its voyage.
Dinghies and small boats carry supplies and our luggage from the shore to the Stahlratte
Because we have a small window of time reserved to use the pier to load the motorcycles, we use most of the morning to remove all the luggage off our bikes and transport them onboard, where we're treated to a quick lunch - the first of many famously delicious Stahlratte meals - before going back on shore and prepping the bikes.
Carb loading first, then bike loading next!
Our luggage arrives by dinghy and is brought into the hold of the ship
Back on shore, bikes are lined up on the pier ready to be brought on board
We lined up last. If anything went wrong, it'd be easier to back out that way!
There is no ramp to ride or push the motorcycles on-board. Everything has to be done off a narrow pier. We watched everyone else's motorcycles get winched up by a pulley off the pier and then over the edge of the deck of the ship. The hired hands seemed to be very experienced and capable and I felt a lot better when it came to our turn.
Watching the Stahlratte pull into the pier, ready to eat our motorcycles
We're here for our scheduled appointment.
Google Maps tells us that there is no way to get from North America to South America by road. The Darien Forest, or Darien Gap, starts at the southern tip of Panama and runs all the way to Colombia. Apparently, this a real life Forest of Despair, but instead of Rodents of Unusual Sizes, they have Poison Arrow Dart Frogs! And no fireswamp or lightning sand, but plenty of Marxist Guerillas with Gun of Unusual Sizes!
We turn off the PanAm Highway, and take a windy road through thick Panamanian rain forests
The PanAmerican Highway stops at the edge of the Darien Forest. Despite several construction attempts, no road connects the two continents because of the ecological damage it would cause to the indigenous tribes and wildlife that live there, and the governments involved do not want to create an easy path for drug smugglers to traffic narcotics from Colombia up to North America.
Interestingly, the Darien Gap has also prevented the spread of diseases from South America into Central and North America, like foot and mouth disease.
Everywhere in Central America, our GPSes fascinate the locals
There are only two ways to cross the Darien Gap, by sea or by air. We opt for the water option, so we have to travel a couple of hours from Panama City to a pier at the deserted Carti Airport, on the Caribbean coast of Panama. The road twists through miles of lush, green jungles and of course, because we washed the bikes in Panama City the day before, it rains on us...
Parked on the shores of Carti beach, our ride waiting in the distance
Talking with Cornelius, another moto-nomad from Australia
We're travelling with a lot of familiar faces on this leg of our journey. We met Trevor at the Horizons Unlimited meeting in California last October, and saw Cornelius there as well but didn't get a chance to speak to him. I had a feeling we would get to know everyone on board a lot better in the next few days!
The Stahlratte, German for "Steel Rat", is a pirate ship, capable of escaping FARC Insurgents and making the Kessel Run in less than 12 parsecs
After a lot of research, we chose the Stahlratte to cross the Darien Gap. This is the appointment we were rushing through Central America to make. It started life 110 years ago as a fishing vessel and has lived many lives since then, from a Rainbow Warrior for Greenpeace till now, a Round-The-World sailboat that has gotten "stuck" in the Caribbean, living the sun-drenched dream and ferrying passengers between Panama, Colombia and the islands in between for the last 8 years to fund its voyage.
Dinghies and small boats carry supplies and our luggage from the shore to the Stahlratte
Because we have a small window of time reserved to use the pier to load the motorcycles, we use most of the morning to remove all the luggage off our bikes and transport them onboard, where we're treated to a quick lunch - the first of many famously delicious Stahlratte meals - before going back on shore and prepping the bikes.
Carb loading first, then bike loading next!
Our luggage arrives by dinghy and is brought into the hold of the ship
Back on shore, bikes are lined up on the pier ready to be brought on board
We lined up last. If anything went wrong, it'd be easier to back out that way!
There is no ramp to ride or push the motorcycles on-board. Everything has to be done off a narrow pier. We watched everyone else's motorcycles get winched up by a pulley off the pier and then over the edge of the deck of the ship. The hired hands seemed to be very experienced and capable and I felt a lot better when it came to our turn.
Watching the Stahlratte pull into the pier, ready to eat our motorcycles
Ludwig, our fearless captain supervises the loading
My baby is getting closer to the front of the line and she's getting nervous!
This is how it starts out...
In our haste to get back on shore to help line the bikes up for loading, we didn't notice that the only ones left on the ship were the women. So there were 12 guys on shore rolling the motorcycles on the pier and 4 women on the boat lifting the bikes over the side of the boat onto deck. They were the ones doing all the real work! We (nervously) cheered them on from the pier...
Then up goes my bike!
Had a little problem getting my big pig over the edge of the boat, so down it went and the rope was shortened...
All bikes on deck, we're ready to set sail!
Gene: "Second star to the right, and straight on till morning!?"
Ludwig: "No... we use a GPS on the Stahlratte."
Getting familiar with our home for the next few days
Big sigh of relief. The Master Planner gets a break for a few days!
Neda has been an absolute superstar over the last few months. She has planned pretty much all of our travels through Central America, doing extra duty handling the border crossings with her fluency in Spanish. For the next few days, our schedules are in the hands of the crew of the Stahlratte. Instead of having to plan for routes, search for accommodations and forage for food, we will be told when to eat and where to sleep, and all of a sudden, there is an absolute lack of responsibility for our lives. It's the best we've felt in over two weeks!
Stay tuned for the next entry on our adventures on the high seas!
Updated from http://www.RideDOT.com/rtw/88.html
"25 souls on board". I don't know why, but this sounds so nautical-speak, I LOVE IT!
So with all the bikes on board, we were off into the Caribbean Sea! First stop, the San Blas islands where we are offloaded to find accommodations for the evening, since we are not officially booked to stay on the ship till the day after.
Run off the ship, forced to fend for ourselves
The San Blas islands are populated by the Kuna indians, and we are put up for the night in their huts. Most of the islands are quite tiny, we could walk the length of ours in under a minute! Their primary means of transportation is by dugout canoe, which are works of art created from a single tree trunk.
Most of the Kuna women were wearing colourful dresses and legwear
We were a bit taken aback by all the flags with swastikas adorning the boats on the island and vehicles near the Carti pier the day before. But we found out that this was the flag of the Kuna Yala community that lives along the San Blas islands. It wasn't the first time we've seen non-Nazi swastikas in our travels, as our trip through India revealed their religious significance in that culture.
Island hopping by beautiful dugout canoe
The colourful material that the dresses are made from are called mola and are popular to tourists as well
Neda taking a stroll around our island. This is her third time around in the last 5 minutes...
We feel a bit abandoned on that tiny island, as we thought we were going to spend a night on the ship. We had to pay for our hut and we weren't able to sleep in the bed provided because Neda was allergic to all the sand fleas, so we opted to sleep in a double-hammock instead.
Not a comfortable sleeping arrangement for the entire night. It was the only mis-step in our entire Stahlratte experience.
Little Kuna girl with her puppy
The next morning, a dinghy picked us up and we sailed off on the Stahlratte in search of a more deserted island to lounge around in the sun and the warm waters of the Caribbean. This truly was a vacation from our regular trip, bikes bundled against the salt water spray for the duration and us frolicking and relaxing on the boat.
Beautiful breakfast spread on the Stahlratte, surrounded by crazy Australian bikers
Bikes are all wrapped up to protect against the corrosive sea spray - still going to hit a carwash after though!
We're sharing our boat with a mostly German crew, a bunch of wacky Australian bikers, and an assortment of European backpackers and bicyclists. Quite the international bunch! Ludwig was the perfect host, having adopted a very island attitude towards everything in his 8 years in the Caribbean. Everything he said was prefaced with: "No problem", "Don't worry". It was truly a stress-free experience.
In the afternoon, we find a nice isolated island to anchor next to. BBQ is being prepared for the evening!
The deserted islands here could have been templates for all those comic strips
Stahlratte anchored off the shore of our playground island
After a BBQ dinner on the island, a bonfire!
Feeling very Castaway at this point. Forgot my Wilson volleyball...
Chillin'
"25 souls on board". I don't know why, but this sounds so nautical-speak, I LOVE IT!
So with all the bikes on board, we were off into the Caribbean Sea! First stop, the San Blas islands where we are offloaded to find accommodations for the evening, since we are not officially booked to stay on the ship till the day after.
Run off the ship, forced to fend for ourselves
The San Blas islands are populated by the Kuna indians, and we are put up for the night in their huts. Most of the islands are quite tiny, we could walk the length of ours in under a minute! Their primary means of transportation is by dugout canoe, which are works of art created from a single tree trunk.
Most of the Kuna women were wearing colourful dresses and legwear
We were a bit taken aback by all the flags with swastikas adorning the boats on the island and vehicles near the Carti pier the day before. But we found out that this was the flag of the Kuna Yala community that lives along the San Blas islands. It wasn't the first time we've seen non-Nazi swastikas in our travels, as our trip through India revealed their religious significance in that culture.
Island hopping by beautiful dugout canoe
The colourful material that the dresses are made from are called mola and are popular to tourists as well
Neda taking a stroll around our island. This is her third time around in the last 5 minutes...
We feel a bit abandoned on that tiny island, as we thought we were going to spend a night on the ship. We had to pay for our hut and we weren't able to sleep in the bed provided because Neda was allergic to all the sand fleas, so we opted to sleep in a double-hammock instead.
Not a comfortable sleeping arrangement for the entire night. It was the only mis-step in our entire Stahlratte experience.
Little Kuna girl with her puppy
The next morning, a dinghy picked us up and we sailed off on the Stahlratte in search of a more deserted island to lounge around in the sun and the warm waters of the Caribbean. This truly was a vacation from our regular trip, bikes bundled against the salt water spray for the duration and us frolicking and relaxing on the boat.
Beautiful breakfast spread on the Stahlratte, surrounded by crazy Australian bikers
Bikes are all wrapped up to protect against the corrosive sea spray - still going to hit a carwash after though!
We're sharing our boat with a mostly German crew, a bunch of wacky Australian bikers, and an assortment of European backpackers and bicyclists. Quite the international bunch! Ludwig was the perfect host, having adopted a very island attitude towards everything in his 8 years in the Caribbean. Everything he said was prefaced with: "No problem", "Don't worry". It was truly a stress-free experience.
In the afternoon, we find a nice isolated island to anchor next to. BBQ is being prepared for the evening!
The deserted islands here could have been templates for all those comic strips
Stahlratte anchored off the shore of our playground island
After a BBQ dinner on the island, a bonfire!
Feeling very Castaway at this point. Forgot my Wilson volleyball...
Chillin'
The next day, more watersports! Neda goes snorkeling
Beautiful starfish - the Germans on board called this a SeaStar.
After doing some snorkeling, Neda and I swim over to our own deserted island to explore a bit. It feels so wild, wide and open out here, we thought maybe we'd put up a bungalow on this island, get a dugout canoe to go grocery shopping at the Kuna Yala's next door...
Honey Ryder, GS Ryder?
"I think we'll put the swimming pool over here..."
Neda's shellphone seems to be getting excellent reception
Whiling the day away on our private deserted island - so cool!
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/wDEFXip8zno" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
On the Stahlratte, they don't make you walk the plank. Instead...
Climbing 20 metres above the deck to reach the crow's nest - picture by Remo Hug
Social time before our voyage
In the middle of the night, we heard the engines turn on and we prepared ourselves for the 30-hour journey to Cartagena. I was a bit worried about getting seasick, since my last experience on the ferry between La Paz and mainland Mexico ended very badly. So while we were in Panama, we stocked up on 100 Gravol pills and made sure we started our tablet diet before we boarded the ship.
We ended up both feeling ill anyway, this time it was Neda's turn to feed the fishes overboard while I ended up keeping my lunch where it belonged. The crew was very good in predicting what we needed, as the large breakfast we had the day before was replaced with a basket of bread and crackers on the kitchen table.
The rest of the passengers emerged from the hold, faces green and all talk on the deck was kept to a minimum: "Pass the crackers please", "I have to puke again, excuse me, pardon me..."
Beautiful sunsets from the deck of the Stahlratte
I think the point of having a rest day in San Blas was to get to know everyone socially before we all clammed up the next day due to sea-sickness. Ludwig told us that most people take 24-48 hours to get their sea-legs, which didn't help as our journey was only 30 hours long anyway.
Needless to say, not a lot of pictures from our actual voyage!
When we were in Guatemala, they had a similar law: no 2-up, your license plate had to be visible on the back of your helmet and your jacket. The reason why is that in Gautemala City, they had a spate of ride-by shootings in the city with the pillion being the shooter. So to combat this, they banned 2-up and made sure all riders identified themselves, not just their motorcycle.
It didn't seem to apply to foreigners.
