New country day

Adios Guatemala

Familiar yet distant emotions grip me, today is a day I breathe rarefied air, a day of another first, the 19th first of my life actually, today is "new country day". I love new country day. A day of new smells, sights, tastes and experiences. A day that I shall never tire of. Of the almost 10,000 days I have spent on Earth, I have had the good fortune of spending 19 of them entering a new country for the first time (repeat visits excluded). Here is how this one panned out...

Light pierces through the clear paned glass, burns my eyes at an hour not sufficiently distant from the one the same eyes snapped shut. Mouth dry, eyes stinging, throat burning - I reconsider the decision to have "just a few drinks" with friends before parting ways. Water splashes on my face, sparking life. Hot coffee and omelette's awake me from my slumber.....today is new country day and it is time to get moving.

Sort, tidy, pack. Load the bike and walk. Last time I will see these streets. Men shout, children pedal, the smell of market fresh food teamed with the not so fresh street waste fills my nostrils, simultaneously sweet and bitter, just like this day. Unload bike, throw it on top of the bus. Hugs, kisses for new friends and then depart. Diesel billows, horns screech, people shuffle in and out, squashing, pushing, sleeping. The route from Antigua to Guatemala City passes quickly. Too quickly for a body fighting a hangover. Unload bus, catch bike getting thrown down from the top. Stand, staring aimlessly at a new world. Realisation sweeps over - I am not where I need to be.

Load bike, cycle around, read map, ask directions, read more maps, more directions. Bitter sweat cascades over my face, smells of smoke, litter and fruit fill the air. Local eyes fixed upon a stranger, cycling aimlessly through the market stands, disturbing their humble beings.

An hour passes, stomach grumbles, bladder presses, throat cries out for relief. Main bus terminal, this way, that way, buy this, touch that....bike unloaded again, thrown on top of another dilapidated bus, I subconsciously cross my fingers that it will still be there when I end this journey. Winding through the maze of people and car, we hit the highway for the border, my longing for water and sustenance is quelled by dozens of sellers boarding the bus. Cream bun, pineapples, fries, chocolate, water...feeling better.

Pick up a book, fall asleep, squashed by overweight people, book again, music, sleep.....alternating in an attempt to pass the time. City streets and rustic homes transform into rolling green hills and mud huts. Up, down, around, swerving towards the border and new country day beckons. Landslides here and heavy rain there delay my excitement.

Bus skids to a stop, border arrival. Men come chasing, competing for the gringo's wallet -  "cambio, cambio!!!" they shout (change, change). Disappointed at my planning and having the right money for my new country, they retreat, defeated. Bike arrives with me in one piece. Relief. In here, go there, sign this, give me your passport....stamp....welcome. Over a bridge and I'm there. New country day is upon me.



Overloaded bike....It isn't pretty, but it gets the job done.

 Smile creeps across a tired face. Mount an overloaded bike once more. Pedal pedal, sweat pours over my face and drenches my knees as I grind up hills. Burning of cheap rum at the back of my throat returns. Stomach protests the lack of nutrition input versus the amount of energy required. 16km's pass, all too slowly, night falls, rain trickles down my back. Enter town, "donde esta el centro, amigo?".....glow of neon pizza shop lights illuminate green shutters of a hotel that seems an eternity away. Back drenched with sweat, front with rain. Check in, unload bike, shower and sit. Empty room, white walls contain a tired soul.

New country day complete, I oblige my stomachs requests and go in search of another first, local fare in my new country.

Bienvenidos El Salvador