But wait, let's back track to where we left off as we try and ascertain the fate of this whole cycling gig.
After a beautiful few weeks in Nicaragua, surfing, cycling flat roads in warm sunshine and marvelling at volcanoes, it was time to head back North. A forgetful 2 days of buses, rip off taxi drivers, endless discussions of why I don't think we should pay extra for bikes and coaches later, we found ourselves in a remote Western part of Honduras, La Esperanza. The highest town in Honduras at over 2,300m, you could have excused us for thinking the next few days of cycling was going to be predominantly
downhill. This little nugget of information was of no comfort to us at all as we climbed up and down the "road" out of town and into the Western Honduran highlands. Bumpy is not an adequate adjective for the first few hours of riding on day 1 and there were more than a few smiles when our track morphed back into some type of bitumen.
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| Local traffic |
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| Hills and hills |
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| crossing back onto a road |
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| wasn't much conversation happening up this hill |
The change in terrain from Nicaragua was stark. No longer were we greeted with picturesque volcanoes in the distance, flat roads and lakes, replaced by green rolling mountains, coffee plantations and mud shack villages. The incessant honking of car horns that is so prevalent in this part of the world remained though. It was difficult to discrimnate between the encouraging toots and the sleazy toots coupled with kisses and hisses directed at the female half of the group. I like to believe some of the latter were directed at me also....
So after a few hard days cycling, we arrived in Copan, right on the Guatemalan border. Home to ancient Mayan civilisations, the town draws tourists from all around to visit the famed Mayan ruins site. Quite a sight it is, I must say. It was quite surreal to be marching around through the lush green forest and through the remains of an ancient civilisation. Relaxing and memorable, to say the least.
From Wikipedia...
Copán had an occupational history that spanned more than two thousand years, from the Early Preclassic period right through to the Postclassic. The city developed a distinctive sculptural style within the tradition of the lowland Maya, perhaps to emphasize the Maya ethnicity of the city's rulers.[4]
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| Mayan ruins |
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| Copan wildlife |
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| Ruins |
Again regretting cycling this section as we climbed several hundred meters out of Coban, I was quickly regretting my promise of "all downhill to the border".....we did however get rewarded with some stunning views back over the valley and were eventually rewarded with a very fast descent to the border town where we would pay our fees, get our stamps and continue climbing mountains to our next destination, some 60km away in southern Guatemala. What was turning into a fast and rewarding day took a turn, as Melissa's derailer cable decided to snap. 2 towns, 14 different directions and one very good bike mechanic later, we were back the road and finally made it to town for our first night in Guatemala.
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| lunch break |
And this is where the fun starts again. After a long bus ride, we arrived in Antigua where we planned to stay for one night. The plan was to find a local bike store, get some boxes for our bikes in preparation for shipping, store them and continue on our journey into the Highlands where we would live for a few weeks, volunteering and exploring. Quite simple I thought.....wrong!
After several loops of town we had to bite the bullet and catch a bus back to Guatemala city in order to find our boxes. Although some locals in Antigua were keen to help us "make a box that would work", we decided that the city would be the only place to find the required box. Now, for those who haven't had the pleasure of a crowded chicken bus ride in Guate City, you are not missing anything. Crowded, hot, smelly, bumpy, slow and downright annoying would be the best way to describe it. And that is BEFORE you have 2 massive boxes to load on also. A day I would like to forget....
So with our boxes stored for future use and spirits renewed we were back on the bus and heading to Lake Atitlan, a wonderful volcanic crater lake where we would chill out for a few days, do some riding and then keep heading North. So after a few hours on multiple buses, I decided it was time to jump off and cycle the last 25km or so as I knew it was a really steep downhill.
Now this maybe where my epipany struck me.....Now, we can't be sure of the exact sequence of events, but as we were rolling down towards the lake, descending from 2,300m to around 1,000 over a very short distance and somewhere between "oh" and "shit", I ran into a few issues. My front wheel, who had faithfully been serving me quite well, decided that enough was enough and it was time to leave my bike for a while. This would have been fine.....if I wasn't on the bike at the time and the bike wasn't travelling at a breezy 40 km/hr!!! The force and speed in which I hit the ground was something I haven't been through before and I am thankful that I am still in tact enough to be writing, let alone riding.
It all happened so fast, something like....
''Gee this is a fun and fast section''.......''hmmm, that wobbling is odd''........''why do I have 20 people standing over me asking if I am ok?"".......''why can't I feel my arm?''.......''I hope my bike is ok''.
So there I was, shorts ripped open, bare knees and thigh similarly ripped up, both hands scraped and bloodied, a numb forearm ripped open and with nice big holes in my gore tex jacket wondering what the hell just happened. Luckliy, I guess, I happened to be coming into a town at the time and there were dozens of onlookers keen to help. Thankfully Melissa was there also as I alternated between trying to see if the bike was ok and laying down to avoid vomiting and fainting. Our new best friend, Mr Spanish / English speaker must have thought everything was serious enough because before I knew it I was
in the back of an ambulance bound for the hospital. And that is where my lovely nurse came in.
Now, I don't scrub the toilet very often, but if I had to, I would scrub with more finesse than she used on my open wounds as she told me to "relax"..."lots of road in there" she said in Spanish and she scraped and dug sections of highway out of me. Thankfully her help was soon over and after a quick exam by the doctor, I was on my way.
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| Guatemalan ER |
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| New shorts will be welcomed for Christmas |
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| All patched up |
ripped elbow, forearm, knee, right hand and thumb, left hand, gore tex jacket, favourite shorts, dry storage bag,
ripped up handlebars, water bottle and last but not least.....dignity.
Of course now I couldn't ride and the road the bus takes was closed, so there we were, in the middle of nowhere, in the dark,with a half broken bike and a fully broken me trying to get to the oasis which would be our hotel. We made it...eventually and I have never been so happy to see a warm bed. 9 hours, 2 buses, 1 ride, 1 ambulance, 2 taxi's and a boat and we could finally relax again and plan the rest of our journey to the highlands of Western Guatemala.
So now I sit, dabbing aloe vera in various places and readjusting my bandages, pondering.....is this cycling thing really for me.....
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| My private nurse hard at work..... |
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