"Want more beer...just take....write down...i go bed now...."

Our week and a half in El Salvador could hardly be summarised any better than these words from our friendly hotel host Roberto.

Picking up where I left off however.........After waking one morning, my cycling ideas were thwarted by a monsoonal downpour unseen by this author for a long long time. The idea of pushing out 100km towards the coast as planned, in the driving rain was less than appealing, so it was a bus morning for me! However after a bumpy bus ride along the coast and changing several times, I snapped and opted again for the bicycle for my final 35km or so to playa El Tunco, where I would be meeting the mountain goat himself, Quiche, the next day. My idea to switch back to the bike proved fruitful early as I rose and dipped over several hills shouldering the beautiful pacific coast.

However, the rain had not finished with me yet and within 10km of my new home, I was again hit by a downpour. Arriving into town soaked to the bone, in driving rain, with a ridiculously large pack on my bike, I got more than my fair share of amused gazes.

Life without mobile phones

El Tunco proved to be a worthy stop however and true to form, as soon as I was taking a few days off the bike, the sun come out and greeted us with its warmth once more. The surf was great....well I am sure it was for the few people there good enough to take it on, for Quiche and I however, with our longboarding credentials, it was too big and nasty for us. We preferred to blame too many years in Canada contributing to our surfing rust, rather than a distinct lack of skill...... Nonetheless, time in the water is time well spent and the few days in El Tunco were just that. Of course there were more than a few catch up beers and rums to be had in the tranquil little village.



Sunset in El Tunco




Local fisherman

Saturday night came alive with the influx of San Salvadorians heading to the coast for the weekend and the village was awash with people partying, fire twirling, playing music and having a good time. Sunday morning, with 2 sore heads, it was time to hit the road. We had 7 days to get to Leon, Nicaragua, approximately 600km south of us and with several interesting stops in between, so we did what any smart people would do, we went North....

When in doubt, go to the mountains, and that we did, heading to the second largest city in El Salvador, Santa Ana, where ourselves, along with our 2 new Dutch friends, would base ourselves for a few days as we took on the local volcano trekking. After paying our grand total of $1 each for a guided trek (mandatory apparently given some crime "incidents"), our group, along with a guide and 2 local policeman, were off to the top of the youngest volcano in Central America. After watching the young cop chat up the guide and switch cell phone numbers with her, then letting us play with his loaded handgun, I was wondering exactly what benefit these guys were to us. That being said, they were a lot of fun and the trek turned out to be a good challenge and feeling the hot steam squeeze out of the volcanic rocks at the top was a bonus.

Safety first

our group at the top

Back on the bus the next day though, with bike in tow, I was definitely not making too many friends by having the bike squeezed in between everyone in the back of the bus, but it was better than risking it on the roof where it would bump and shake every corner.

making friends on the bus

Next stop, Tacuba, a quaint little village in the mountains where we could rent Quiche a bike and cycle (again for me, this time in nice weather), the ruta de las flores. Stopping at as many coffee and cake shops as possible we had a great day climbing and very quickly descending the steep roads. 1,200m climbed and 60km for the day and at one section getting my bike up and over 45km/h made for a rewarding afternoon.

More buses, papusas (beans and cheese stuffed in tortillas) and pastries later, we found ourselves in another mountain top village, this one called Alegria. The view from the top of this town was worth the rickety bus ride to get there.

Chillin lakeside in Alegria

More eggs and beans

Alegria

Bakery stop

Relaxing after a hard day

Enjoying our chilling out time a little too much, we realised that in the past 5 days we had actually not progressed any further south towards Nicaragua as we needed to. Enter a remarkably fun, frustrating, hot, sweaty, expensive and exciting travel day....

Alegria to Leon, the hard way
After a morning hike and run, we decided that we should get a few km's travelled today before making the next day our "big travel day" where we would shoot for Leon. As we trundled up to the bus stop slightly after noon, I spotted a decidedly empty and large pick up truck. Given there was only one way into and one way out of town, we were a 50/50 chance to avoid at least one bus for the day. Our new friend was happy to oblige and before long we were riding shotgun in the back of his pickup all the way down the beautiful countryside to San Miguel, our destination for the day (so we originally planned), saving us a nice one hour.

Quiche riding shotgun

"well, now that we are wel ahead of schedule...."

And with that, after disembarking our pickup truck ride in San Miguel, we were off on the search for another bus to the border of Honduras. All the stars seemed to be aligning and the only bus heading south just happened to be a super comfortable coach that was going direct (read: stopping at SLIGHTLY less random towns as public buses). Discussing back and forth about whether we could actually make it all the way across Honduras, another border crossing and somehow find some transport, in the evening, all the way to Leon, we decided that after 5 consecutive days of spending time on the bus, we may as well go for it in one foul swoop. That would allow us to completely rest and chill out in Leon the following day.

True to form however, travels are never without hold ups and as we crossed the border, our promised "directo" bus across the Southern tip of Honduras to Nicaragua was in fact just another rickety old and slow chicken bus, one that wasnt even going the entire way. We knew that our luck had changed for the worse as within 5 minutes of our journey, the driver decided to stop to say hello to his family who lived nearby and also grab a drink and something to eat. In our westernised culture, most people would think this is ridiculous for a professional driver to take time like this, but every single passenger on the bus was seemingly oblivious to the delay and kept on munching their cookies and chewing the fat.

So with his family time over, we were on the road again. The 2 hours that followed involved a lot of asking people if we could actually get to Leon at this time of night, our mix of English and spanglish not proving to be very effective. The two oversized ladies next to us seemed very confident that we could make it, but we didn't really understand their reasoning. So as we got dropped off at some random town, after nightfall in Honduras, still about 50km from the border we stared at each other blankly, knowing quite well that there were no more buses on this evening.

The 2 large ladies werent done yet though, they were also heading to Leon and within minutes had rounded up a local man with a banged up old pick up who seemed reasonably content with having a few gringos and a bicycle tag along for the ride. So as we were hurtling down a very dark road toward the border (we were hoping), with all our visibly expensive belongings on us, in the darkness, in a country where we couldn't speak the language and under the direction of 2 ladies who seemed to have conflicting stories every time I tried to ask along with a driver who seemed very non plussed about the entire event, mumbling some spanish through a mustouche that put Mexican drug lords to shame, we realised that it is these types of situations with idiots like us, who make the front pages of news back home.

A very nervous Quiche - somewhere in Honduras

A very long hour later, we made it and proceeded to pass through a few checkpoints and seemingly scattered immigration process to enter our third country for the day. Welcome to Nicaragua. Next mission - getting to Leon, a further 100km away.

Helping old mate with the tie down process

Well, there was only one mini van sitting there, so we didnt have much choice. Sure he wasnt going all the way and sure, he was more occupied with the food stand over the road than helping us tie down our gear, but the 2 large ladies were sitting in there and they hadn't let us down so far, so in we hopped.

Again - another good start.....stopping to get some change at some local change office, our driver decided that park brakes were for sissies and consequently had to chase our van down the road to save it from hitting a tree. What could possibly go wrong here....thankfully the rest of our trip was less eventful and we managed to get some shut eye before arriving at our next junction point where we were greeted by another lonely mini van waiting to take us the remaining 35km to Leon.

So after a grand total of 2 pick up trucks, 1 coach, one chicken bus and 2 mini van's, we had arrived, 11 hours later, in Leon. Both hostels we had in mind were obviously closed or full, so we got the added bonus of lugging around our gear and bike in a new town looking for somewhere to house our tired bones for the night.

Our luck changed once more though as the only place open just happened to double as a pizza shop and our new amigo fired up the oven for us, threw us a few cold beers and we clinked salut to the end of another travelling journey.

Let´s see what Nicaragua has in store.....

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

The journey continues....

Aside from a short, but necersary story regarding a certain mountain goat, the communications from this author have been distant in the last 3 weeks. During that time however, I have not been sitting on my hands, oh quite the contrary, I have been pushing my body hard up hills, repairing punctures roadside, swimming in beautiful waterfalls and over indulging in fresh seafood and delicious rum punch. But more of that later, let's pick up where we left off, the start of the inagraul Greenhorn journey.

Sep 4 - 17.....the hard(ish) ride to Belize

After a few last minute stops at the market to pick up some relatively important supplies, such as a pump, helmet and bike lock, it was time to see if this cycling thing was for me. It wasn't long before I realised that maybe a bit more planning could have went into the first few days as I struggled to actually get out of Antigua and heading in the right direction! I did make it though and was greeted by a rolling highway that had been closed (to cars) due to some landslides. Quite a nice start for me though as I rolled nicely up and down a vacant highway while I adjusted to riding a fully loaded bike. The first 30km of vacant road would soon be a distant memory however, as I entered, somehow managed to land smack bang in the middle of, and then departed Guatemala City, covered in black diesel smoke, ears ringing from car horns and people whistling encouragement at me. My first 3 punctures, a helpful motorbike rider and 97 km later, I arrived at my first stop. Sanarate....a little town who were holding their weekly fiesta, for reasons that were unkonwn to me. It did however work in my favour as I enjoyed a big meal of street tacos and ice cream. Day 1 complete!




Punctures.......joy

 Day 2 of cycling revealed itself as "educational". It certainly displayed to me the highs and lows of travelling by bicycle. Climbing, climbing and more climbing greeted me all day as I struggled up 1,500m of ascent, regretting doing so many km on my first day and ruing my stretched derailer cable that had me limited to 7 gears all day. Although this wasn't really an issue, given the amount of climbing to be done! So that was the low's, the high's involved crusing up and through some very scenic and remote villages and stopping to meet some locals at rest stops who were always interested, and confused, in where I was going and why I was cycling. The day ended with a short bus ride into the next town as a storm rolled in, darkness fell and my derailer issues got the better of me.



Rest break with some interested onlookers in the background


The following few days involved more resting than cycling, just how I like it! A day off to rest and get the bike sorted - and get the overheating lock of hair on my head trimmed, followed by a half cycle day (complete with more punctures), followed again by 2 very relaxing rest days in Lanquin, home to the natural and beautiful Semuc du Champey. 2 days of hammock swinging, swimming in natural pools, swimming in the river, exploring caves, underground rivers and coming face to face with more than my fair share of friendly bats. Realising that I had taken as many rest days as cycling days however, it was time to mount up again and keep pushing through the hills.

Semuc du Champey

Exploring caves - check out the friends flying above my head

Overexcited school kids

Deciding to get off the pavement and onto the more remote "road" toward my final destination was a decision initally regretted, however it turned out to be very rewarding. The scenery was specatucular as I climbed and dropped through valleys and fields over bumpy rocks and deep pot holes. These 2 days were definitely my most interesting as I wound my way through villages where I would be greeted by blank stares, cheerful kids and some very interested amigos wondering what a gringo was doing cycling through their world. As I reached the top of one hill, I was greeted by a group of over excited school kids who had lined the road and were dancing and singing encouragement for me as I rode past. I couldn't resist a photo and although they were initially unsure of my intentions, once they realised that they could look at themselves on the screen, they were more than happy to throw a few poses.

Guatemalan hillsides

The second day of my dirt road journey also bought with it smiles and challenges. After staying at quite a dingy and overpriced hotel, I left the comfort of the 400m of paved main st and was back in the dirt and mud. 5 hours many confused onlookers later, I was again roadside, struggling to repair another tire issue when a shiny new pick up pulled up beside me. My plan for this day was to always get a bus to my final destination after the days riding as I was behind schedule, and my new friend turned out to be the perfect option! As quick as that I was riding in the back of his truck through the fields and villages, admiring the landscape, yet feeling a little sick from the quick increase in ground speed. All of a sudden though, the speed receded and we had pulled over for no apparent reason.....then I saw what I had been hoping for all day - a restaurant! Apparently my new driver and his partner had the same idea as me and we pulled up for a delicious feast of eggs, beans, rice and tortilla. He must of been impressed enough with my efforts, because he didn't let me pay for my lunch and continued to drive me all the way to my planned destination. Given the size of the hand gun in his holster, I wasn't about to argue!

Boat ride

So a short, but very scenic boat ride later, I had arrived at my destination of Livingston, Guatemala. Right on the banks of the Carribean sea and home to a very different side of Guatemala. The local indigenous people, Garifuna's, represented a culture more akin to the Carribean islands than that of the Guatemala I had got to known over the past month. This was refreshing and interesting and I took the chance to have another rest day at a great hostel I found and met some wonderful people to hang out with, some of which I would meet again later in my jorney.

Dwellings near Livingston



Flat Belize roads

 So after a hot, yet relaxing break, the bike and I were on another boat, again arguing with the captain over the fact that I refused to pay extra for my bike when other people didn't have to pay extra for their bags (I won), and was on my way to chilled out Belize where I was greeted by flat roads, English speaking people and some crazy rain showers that made the first day's cycling there a little interesting. Making the most of the flat roads, I managed some respectable kilometers on the first afternoon and arrived in a small town called Independence. Well, on the outskirts of town actually.....turns out that hotels in Belize are slightly less affordable for a traveller on a busget, so I ended up spending the first night in my tent, pitched underneath the carport of a friendly service station owner who let me use the bathroom and a much needed shower, free of charge.

Breakfast of champions....

My friend for breakfast one morning

Campsite - night 3 in Belize

The next 3 days cycling proved to be good and bad. Good because I could really get some distance behind me on the flat and paved Belize roads without any mechanical issues, however the ride was slightly less enjoyable than the riding in Guatemala. Sure, the scenery was beautiful, rolling hills to my left and coastal views to my right, but the wide open and vacant land of Belize made the small village experiences fewer and farer between than I enjoyed in rural Guatemala. So before I knew it, 4 days and 320km had passed by and I rolled into Belize City, sweaty, tired and hot around midday and headed straight for the dock to catch a boat to scenic Caye Caulker.

when in doubt, follow the signs

Sep 18 - 24.....less cycling, more rum

So after 650 km, 14 days and one sore arse, I decided it was the perfect time to park the bike, meet some friends that I had bumped into along the way and spend 5 very awesome and very relaxing days on a beautiful tropical island somewhere off Belize City. And that I did. Now I won't bore you with all the details of my time on lovely Caye Caulker, essentially because it can all be summed up quite quickly - lots of rum, no shoes, very little time with a shirt on, lots of swimming, snorkelling, canoeing, eating cheap and fresh lobster and a little more rum.

View from out the back of the hostel

An impromptu canoe trip out to a deserted boat turned into an afternoon to remember as we chilled out, watched the sun set, drank a few quiet rums and jumped off the top deck of the delapidated vessel into the crystal blue waters below. Defintely a day I won't forget quickly. That was followed by another great day on the water, complete with snorkelling with sharks and sting rays, then spear fishing our lunch which we cooked on a deserted island some miles away. A tropical paradise indeed...

Full canoe

chillin out on the boat

our lunch time island

the expert fisherman.....

catching lunch

lunch

some rum

no need for more rum...

You can't live in fantasy world forever though and the higher prices of Belize were definitely taking their toll, so after 5 nights, the "family" split up and continued on their respective travels. A few north to Mexico and myself and my new travel partner, Julia, heading back West and into Northern Guatemala as we wound our way back down (via bus this time) toward Antigua. No point rushing though, so I made a day stop in scenic Flores to visit some very impressive Mayan ruins, followed by a few days in a small town called Poptun where we found a great resort out in the woods, full of hammocks, great meals, some hiking and just a dash more rum at the on site bar...

Mayan ruins.....Tikal

So there we have it, it turns out that 3 days planning, a undersized bike and very little in the way of cycling experience counts for nothing. A great experience I must say this cycling gig. Tough at times, but very rewarding in the end, particularly when it ends with a week of carribean waters and warm sunshine....so now I am back in Antigua, catching up on some chores before departing for El Salvador next week to hunt down a long lost mountain goat - and yes, I am cycling there....

The less exciting part of travelling.....5am, 10 hour bus rides

Return of a mountain goat.....

After a week cut off from civilisation, jiving to reggae and trotting around barefeet, I have returned to the Northern Guatemalan jungle to some riveting and breaking world news.....it seems there is a mountain goat loose and heading my way......

They say he has rythum in his soul and the devil in his legs. Freakishly stable and unsuspecting, he has been spotted lately tunneling in packs during West Coast Saints footy games. Astutely adept to all things sporty, rumors abound about the great one gracing my presence in some far off country for a spot of surfing. Famous for his stability on boards, bikes and bush alike, I once saw him intentionally launch himself of a mountain bike, while descending steep Utah slickrock just to ¨see what all the fuss was about....¨ Apparently the man.....or is it a creature.....can hang ten on 12 foot barrels and not get his feet wet.

Originally born Ben Scott in small town country Australia, he later changed his name to Dr Sven Quichesen to avoid the hype surrounded by his existence. Living in relative silence for many years, he has recently re emerged around the forests of the Pacific Northwest, mostly avoiding being captured, but certainly not avoiding the fanfare that follows his mystery.

So here I sit, plotting my route to El Salvador from northern Guatemala in the hope of spotting the mysterious creature in the hope of buying him a beer at some beach shack to learn life´s secret´s from the master sensei himself.

The last file photo of him clearly depicts a man of great stature, coupled with a mental wit un matched by anyone I´ve met.

Wish me well people´s, on my journey for the long lost Mountain Goat.....

File Photo

Changing stride in Antigua....

What do they say about the unpredictability of travelling being the most exciting part......well here is a short story about my first few days in Antigua, Guatemala.

Day 1

"Well, now that I think of it, a girl cycled into town a while ago and left her fully set up touring bike at my boss's place.....". And with those silky words, Sophie from the mountain bike touring company delivered a distinctive directional shift concerning this walkabout. But wait, let's back up 24 hours to get the full picture.

Squeezed next to a rather "curvy" Mayan woman on my second chicken bus of the afternoon, hoping that my pack containing all my personal effects, which was delicately wrapped in plastic bags and a potato sack (thanks magical woman) for an improvised watertight seal was stable on the roof as we almost rode on 2 wheels around sharp bends, I had "what alcoholics call....a moment of clarity".

You see, my travels, while extremely enjoyable and interesting, were becoming somewhat monotonous. Go here, see this, move on. Sure, I had met some wonderful people, seen some awesome things and learnt more from cultures than I thought I would already, but there was still something missing.

Now, I am not one to not appreciate the special things in life that are afforded to me. I realise that not everyone has the opportunity to climb volcanoes, relax at meditation retreats, have interesting adventures with local families trying to fix holes in the arse of your $7 pants, while floating freely through life with limited responsibilities.....however, should my good fortune preclude me from seeking a deeper travelling experience? I think not. While the above mentioned experiences have been just that, experiences, I was / am seeking more fulfillment in my travels, more independence, more immersion in the culture, more of.....something.

As if years of having an older brother cycling around the world, planting ideas in your head wasn't enough, as if having a fully set up bike sitting in storage in Vancouver wasn't enough.....it takes a chance encounter with an awesome foursome of Kiwi lads to convince me that I need to get "off the beaten track".

A sunny afternoon in San Marcos was interrupted by the gental hum of 4 stroke motorbikes rolling over cobbled streets. Long story short, the guys from http://www.angelstothehorn.com/ are riding motorbikes from LA to Buenos Aires, Argentina. "Maybe I can meet you in BA and ride a bike back north" was my off the cuff comment, to which they assured me I could do, as they need to sell their bikes after Christmas anyway.....but we will leave this adventure to another blog (I am still pursuing this idea though).

Although the idea of riding motorbikes in South America is ridiculously enticing, it is months away and doesn't solve my current dilemma. So no good there. They did however, start a chain of events that is quickly altering my walkabout. After reflecting on just how jealous I was of their independent travels, I decided that that is exactly what I need to be doing, maybe not on motorbikes just YET, but something.

So what has all this got to do with Sophie and her boss's unused touring bike you ask??? Well, after arriving in Antigua after several relaxing days on Lake Atitlan with friends, I was feeling somber. Feeling as if I wasn't living in line with my core travel values. Quickly tiring of heavy backpacks, generic tourists and hostel living, I set off to explore this beautiful colonial town for bike stores, motorbikes for sale, tours, rollerblades.....anything to set me free again.


First stop - Mountain bike tour company number 1......$25 a day to rent for one day and then $15 a day after that....so a quick, 10 day improvised bicycle tour would cost me $160USD....hmmm, I could buy a bike for that I thought....

Second stop - Bicycle tour store number 2...."we only rent cruisers" said the nice young ex pat American. But you might want to try the big market at the end of town, there are people selling everything up there.....

Third stop - Big market at the end of town...."solo bicicleta parqueo (only bicycle parking)" says amigo number 1....hmmm, still no luck. Walking around and perusing the towns people's bikes, I briefly considered buying a used bike from a local and retro fitting it for my needs, but I just couldn't imagine pounding the Guatemalan hills on massive hunks of rusted steel with my back pack on.

Fourth stop - random bakery...."una....ummm...muffin por favor"....who would have thought a chocolate muffin for 1 quetzale (15 cents) would start my mind thinking so efficiently again. I spotted a nice, yellow, Specialized mountain bike sitting in the store next door. After downing the muffin, I struck up a conversation with the shop owner in broken Spanish and English. "3,500 Q" "no way man....2,000 Q max!" Silence.....then with his perplexed eyes darting between me and his amigo who thought the whole episode was hilarious, I decided to leave it to him to muse and I would return later....

Fifth stop - sandwich house and free internet.....maybe google could help I thought. So off I went on my electronic magic machine, hoping it could solve my issues. A sandwich, pineapple juice and some chocolate cake later, I was off to Mayan tours, tour company.

Sixth stop - Mayan tours....As I walk in, I am greeted by 3 local men who are elbows deep in a roasted chicken and a few bottles of coke, "Mayan tours, si?"...."Yeah man, sorry, how can I help"...."sorry man, we only rent bikes for tours, no sales.....maybe try Ox adventures just down the street"

Seventh stop - Ox adventures and tours....and it was here that, somewhere between offering me a job as a bike tech and tour guide and convincing me that their hostel is better than the one I am in, Sophie lays those magical words on me. You see, it seems that cycling from San Diego to South America was better in theory than practice for one young woman 18 months prior and now her fully loaded touring bike was sitting in Sophie's boss's yard, awaiting an eager new owner...

Eigth stop - Sophie's boss's place...."welcome man, I'm working from home today" says Victor, an ex pat from Portland, Oregon who had moved down and set up his tour company. So after convincing me that I want to be a bike tech and tour guide (which is sounding more and more appealing), we decided to check out the bike in question. Fully loaded with top of the line front and rear racks, a handlebar bag, bottle cages (with literally the same water in the bottles since 18 months ago) and 2 flat tires, the decent looking Surly LHT was just waiting for a new rider. So we agreed to meet in the morning for coffee and a trip to the local bike mechanic to make sure everything is in the right place before I drop $500 on the rig.

Day 2

Sure enough, right on time, Victor arrives to meet me for coffee at the best coffee place in town. After downing literally the best cappucino I have ever had, and watching Victor shake after his triple expresso and "one for the road" coffee's, we are off to the bike mechanic. "Neccesito una sevicio completo por favor"...and with that, our old mate is straight to work, giving the rig a complete once over, installing a new chain, rear tube, seat post and seat, all for the tidy sum of 485 Q (about $60 USD) which will be deducted from the purchase price.

With all the generous help afforded to me by Victor, I decide to do the right thing and move to his hostel, where I will "have the place to myself". It's a little more expensive, but he promises the fact that I can use the kitchen to cook will make up for it as I don't have to eat in restaurants.....well, it turns out that it is just me and one other person (and Sheyla the dog) in a massively large and luxurious hostel, complete with 2 living areas, sound system, ping pong, kitchen and all the amenities.

Upstairs living quarters

My humble abode (and Sheyla)

Day 3

Wake up and realise that overnight a disgruntled ex employee of the hostel / adventure company has decided to use his old key to break in and steal, amongst other minor things, the ping pong table's net. I mean, really, the net? Apparently he made the table and wasn't happy with the compensation received. It seems that lsoers are everywhere in this world.....suffice to say that Victor had less time to help me today.

So off I went to our mechanic friends shop to find that he had completely tidied up the new bike, now dubbed "Greenhorn", and its ready to roll. After a quick run around to the market and various other stores, using my excellent Spanish (hand gestures) to buy some essentials like a helmet, bike lock and a pump and repair kit......I figure with that and a map or two, I should be right to get all the way up to Belize and back. The fact that it has been raining non stop all day and I plan on leaving in the morning shouldn't be an issue....what's that? Oh, the storms are coming and they are already diverting flights from Guatemala City??? Hmm...what are the odds......

Sure the bike is a bit small for me and sure my back will probably get sore and sure I don't know what to do with my hiking pack, or where I am going, or the terrain I will be riding (presumably hilly, muddy and wet), or a clue about most things, but............Walkabout 2010 has just morphed into Rideabout 2010.

Trip planning begins

Greenhorn and I....ready to roll!!!

Hopefully 2 maps will cut it....