Day 108 – 110 – Granada, NI

Day 108 – 110 – Granada, NI     12/14 – 16/10     Mileage: 0

I had spanish school for the last 3 days and I think I am proving that you really CAN’T teach an old dog new tricks. The more spanish I think I know, the more I realize I don’t know and my progress is painfully slow. I am however determined to learn it…or too stupid to stop…I’m not sure which. Anyway, in the afternoons I explore the town a bit, work on the blog and study until I’m cross-eyed.

Here are some shots from the local market.

I splurged on a really nice dinner at El Tercer Ojo (The Third Eye) the other night, but aside from that have been being laying low to save money and focus on studying. This afternoon I went looking for a new relay for the KLR’s horn as mine burned out a few weeks ago…and a horn is a handy item down here! I found an auto parts store and I had to use every once of spanish I have to describe to the clerk what I needed. Ordering cafe con leche is childs play, but trying to describe that I need a 12v 30 amp single pole single through electrical relay is another story all together. So, with my pigeon spanish and enough hand gestures to make any Italian man proud, I managed to get what I need. After that it was back to the Bearded Monkey where I turned their back courtyard into a Kawasaki service shop.

I also adjusted the drive chain, clutch cable and did a number of other minor tweaks and adjustments while I had a good place to do it.

Day 106 – 107 – Granada, NI

Day 106 – 107 – Granada, NI     12/05 – 06/10     Mileage: 0

The last two days Brian and I spent walking around Granada and getting some chores done like laundry and running errands. Granada is a nice town and is like a smaller version of Antigua back in Guatemala with spanish colonial architecture, nice bars and restaurants and a location in a nice natural setting. I’ll let the pictures do the talking…

Horses are still hard at work down here…and horse drawn carts are as common as pick-ups.

I came across this funny scene….a cow in the middle of town with it’s head buried in a trash can!

I don’t think “kayak” means motorcycle…not even in spanish!

Last night we saw some local kids put on a breakdance demonstration in the street in front of the restaurant we were eating at and they were really very good!

I also spent some time looking for a spanish school and found one that I liked for a good price, so I’ll spend another week or so here trying to learn more spanish. Tomorrow Brian is pushing on so our time riding together has come to an end. We had many good laughs over countless beers the last two weeks, and it was a nice to change to have some company for a while. Bien viaje mi amigo!

Day 105 – Leon, NI to Granada, NI

Day 105 – Leon, NI to Granada, NI      12/04/10      Mileage: 91

This morning Brian and I went to breakfast with Sparky and Dave, the two Canadian bikers heading for Panama on their R1200GS’s. We told all the usual lies and tall tales from the road, and compared notes about the Honduras border crossing.

L to R:  Brian, Dave and Sparky

After that we packed up, said adios and pointed our bikes south towards the colonial city of Granada.

Leaving the hostel…

Navigating the narrow streets of Leon, complete with horse-drawn cart.

One mans wrong turn is another mans (my) shortcut!

Found the highway and rolling south…

Map check…

Heads we follow the GPS, tails we follow the map…who’s got a coin?

Errrr…best 2 out of 3?

Lago de Managua from the road with volcanoes in the distance.

 

Taking a break on the way to Granada…

Rolling into Managua…

It only took about two hours to get to Granada even with some traffic passing though Managua.

If you’re going to stop for directions, it might as well be from a hot chick in front of a yoga studio….just sayin…

Another coin toss…now where did I put that damn cordoba…

That coin sucks…

Once in Granada we settled into the Bearded Monkey hostel which had private rooms with shared bathrooms for $12…not too bad.

Checking in at the Bearded Monkey

Checking the bikes into the Bearded Monkey!

Don’t scratch the bar Brian!

It was a sauna on the way down from Leon, so as soon as the bikes were parked we slammed 4 beers at the hostel before heading out for dinner and of course many more beers. I really have to reign in my beer consumption, as I’ve stumbled upon the following equation…

(Tropical heat + riding suit + cheap ice cold beer) – exercise = veal shaped gringo

Parting Shot

This was the drink special at the hostel. For the english speaking crowd, borracho in spanish means drunk!
(Sorry Deb, I couldn’t resist!)

Day 104 – Leon, NI

Day 104 – Leon, NI 12/03/10 Mileage: 0

No big news to write about today, which given the last 2 days I’m fine with that.

Finally tracked down a good coffee…

…..at Cafe Lo Rosita. They have great breakfast too…

…and a nice garden courtyard.

The wifi at the Lazy Bones hostel was quite good and I spent 6 hours getting the blog semi up to date and upload pictures.

Our bikes inside the Lazy Bones hostel.

Brian making use of the good wifi…

The pool at the Lazy Bones

Sparky and Dave, the two bikers I met back in El Salvador happened to pull into the Lazy Bones as well and got the room right next to mine…small world!

Sparky (L) and Dave (R)

We exchanged border horror stories and from the sound of it they had it even worse They also beat it out of Honduras ASAP as well, which only goes to show that Honduras is totally missing the boat. Yeah, the grifters at the border manage to steal a few bucks from you, but that leaves you aggravated and bitter and all you want to do is leave as soon as possible. Definitely not a good plan if you want tourists to spend money in your country.

Parting shot: We knocked back a few beers in the Los Balcones bar where these skis were on the wall.

Day 103 – Choluteca, HN to Leon, NI

Day 103 – Choluteca, HN to Leon, NI     12/02/10     Mileage: 112

Coffee, it had been days since Brian or I had a (good) cup, so this morning we set off to the Cafe Americano coffee shop around the corner from our hotel. Inexplicably, they don’t open until 10am. What kind of @#*% ing coffee shop doesn’t open until 10 in the morning? If Starbucks in the US didn’t open until 10…there would be bloodshed in the streets. Well, just one more thing I hate about Honduras. So, across the parking lot was a Wendy’s…yes, that Wendy’s! They were at least open, so I had an egg muffin and (decent) coffee, all under the watchful eye of a security guard toting a shotgun. It’s funny what you get used to, because security guards, which most stores and better restaurants (and Wendy’s!) in towns have, all tote shotguns or assault rifles. So does every delivery truck…which quite literally has a man riding shotgun! Don’t try to steal a 6-pack of Coke off of a delivery truck down here, or you will for sure get a 00 buckshot enema. Anyway, after our Wendy’s breakfast, we packed up the bikes and split for the border.

This cutie worked the front desk at the hotel…the only appealing thing in all of Honduras!

Leaving our hotel in Choluteca…

On the way out of Choluteca…

….and the roads have huge potholes.

I couldn’t wait to leave Honduras…it was giving me a bad vibe, and I didn’t want to be here one second longer than I had to.

And another police checkpoint. Smile dickhead.

At the border, the first order of business was to cancel our bike import permits at the aduana (customs) and then to immigration to stamp ourselves out of this hell hole. Of course, the “helpers” were there to try and sell us their services, but we told them very succinctly to go bugger off…we were onto their game.

Border cop and a helper trying to intercede.

To this border cops credit, he was the only one in 7 countries to notice the license I gave him was expired. Brian and I always give our “dump” licenses (in my case an old expired NJ license) whenever any official asks for a license, just incase they get confiscated. He accepted my AAA “International Driving Permit”, which I am also happy to give away. I never give my current valid NJ drivers license, and have not needed to yet.

On the way to the border after the police checkpoint.

At the Honduras border building…

Changing money…

After processing out, we hopped on the bikes, gave Honduras the 1 finger salute and crossed the bridge into Nicaragua(country number 8!).  AMF!

 One last police check before the bridge.

Here’s another helper…yep, that’s a camera dickhead, smile…  🙂

The Nicaragua border was refreshingly straightforward and relatively inexpensive at $24 in total. It was $12 to enter the country (which is really only $2 plus what amounts to a $10 mandatory tip or bribe if you will) and $12 for compulsory vehicle insurance. The bike import permit was free.

Arriving at the Nicaragua side….and glad to be out of Honduras!

This guy was driving down to Panama from Colorado in his FJ Cruiser. That rig on the roof is a rooftop tent…..very cool!

Standing around waiting I started chatting with this Nicaraguan girl….I was practicing my spanish and she was practicing her english.

One last checkpoint, and we were in Nicaragua!

With that we fired up the bikes and pointed them for Leon, a nice colonial town about 90 minutes from the border. On the way we passed an active volcano spewing smoke which is as common down here as shotguns and as easy to become accustomed to.

In Leon we settled into the Lazy Bones hostel which had private rooms, a pool and wifi for $20…not too bad.

This was an impressive cathedral on the main square in Leon.

Around town in Leon…

We took a walk around town, had a bite and a few beers and then I called it a night.

Day 102 – San Miguel, ES to Choluteca, HN

Day 102 – San Miguel, ES to Choluteca, HN     12/01/10     Mileage: 96

**  Warning: Salty language in this post.  **

After breakfast and packing the bikes, Brian and I set off for the Honduras border.

Saddled up and ready to ride…

Picking our way through the San Miguel traffic…

Crossing into Honduras, and at this border crossing in particular, is legendary in the annals of adventure motorcycling…and not for a good reason. It’s bureaucracy, seemingly pointless complexity and grift have brought grown men to tears. So vast is the complex bureaucracy of paper pushing that an entire industry of “helpers” has grown up around it, itself full of pitfalls, thieves and crooks. No amount of words can adequately describe the mind numbing maze of paperwork, photo copies, stamps, signatures, documents, duplicates, triplicates, offices and officials that need to be pushed, signed, filed, paid or otherwise processed. It all starts miles from the border when “helpers” try and stop you to offer their brothers/cousins/friends/brother-in-laws/uncles services at the border. Next, was the El Salvador aduana checkpoint to cancel our bike import permits…which is still 3 kilometers from the border, and another swarm of “helpers” descends on you offering their assistance to help you process through the border.

The El Salvador aduana checkpoint to cancel the import permits…and get swarmed by “helpers”…

Smile for the camera, asshole…

After saying no “adamantly” some 300 times to 20 different pushy bastards, you continue to the immigration building where the crowd of helpers gets really thick! They descend and swarm on you like Alaskan mosquitoes only these blood suckers want your money.

This guy is calling the other “helper” a crook…ha!

NO, NO, NO, NO, and NO!!!

Would you trust this guy with your critical documents? Yeah, me neither…

Changing currency with the other blood suckers.
(Tip for BlackBerry users, XE.com maks an app for BlackBerry’s which is very useful for changing money at the borders, so at least you know how much you’re getting screwed by.)

We ignore their pleas and go about our business, first to the El Salvador immigration window to process out…and then onto the Honduras window to pay $3 to “begin” our entry process into Honduras. Next it’s off to the guard shack before the bridge into Honduras, and of course he needs a copy of the canceled El Salvador bike permit.

Off to the guard shack at the bridge.

But of course the guard needs a copy, and there’s the “helper” still trying to push his service.

So we park the bikes, and go to a random office to make a photocopy for the guard. Once complete and the guard has his copy, we cross th bridge to the Honduras aduana and immigration buildings.

The guard has his copy…

…..now it’s across the bridge.

But first you have to get passed this rather unpleasant chap on the other side with a badge and a chip on his shoulder…

…and of course he needs to inspect your documents. And of course more “helpers” trying to “help”.

This is where the bureaucratic machine really starts to try and grind you down. First you go to the aduana where “jefe” comes out from a closed door and asks for your passport, bike title, driver license, canceled El Salvador import permit and 3, yes 3 copies of each of those documents plus the originals…16 in all. Then it’s off to the photo copy office for 3 copies of each, then back to jefe.

The Honduras aduana office.

This is me on the left, “jefe” on the right. Let round one begin. Ding!
(I set my helmet on a chair to get shots of this on purpose. Helmet cams rock for border crossings!)

He then disappears back inside behind the closed door. You are left to stand there in the heat waiting for someone to come out from behind the door. When jefe comes back out, he tells me he also needs my bike registration (the first time I am ever asked for this at any border!) plus 3 copies of it, so it’s back to the photo copy office for more copies, then back to jefe. Failure to produce any of these documents I’m quite sure opens the door for “jefe” to ask for a bribe, and he does not get the chance with me or Brian.

And so we wait…

Me and Brian…good times.

After more waiting, jefe emerges with a stack of paperwork and documents, each requiring more photo copies of newly applied stamps and signatures from nameless and faceless officials behind some door through which we can not pass. Brian and I alternate so that one of us is always with the bikes. This seems to aggravate the “helpers” but we are not going to be easy victims. After the new round of photocopies, we are now told we have to pay for the import permit at the bank, but of course the bank is closed, and won’t reopen for 2-3 hours…or so we are told by the “helpers”. This is of course a problem, but for a small “fee” a “helper” can “get it processed now.” Ha…nice try you fuckers, we told them we’ll just wait for the bank to open, we have plenty of time and I rather like the tropical heat! This made the “helpers” very mad, as they prey on impatient travelers and hope that you will use them “to speed things up”. Well, wouldn’t you know the bank opened up again in just 15 minutes…how about that.

The aduana building were the bank office is located.

Once Brian and I had these fees paid, it was off for more photo copies of the newly applied bank stamps for jefe and the faceless bureaucrats behind the mysterious door.

And more copies…

At least the copy girl was cute, and I got my 9 lepiras worth.

Next we were told we had to pay a road tax in another office, which we did. Then jefe emerged from behind the door with our paperwork, now with yet more stamps that required yet more photocopies for other officials at the “fumigation” station. So after 3 hours of paper shuffling and a square acre of trees felled for it, we were finally on our way into Honduras.

Back on the bikes, but one last stop at the fumigation shack, which is total BS by the way.

Time to get the fuck out of here!

Ahhh, on the gas at last!

Of course, at the first police roadblock 10 miles from the border, we were stopped and told that he was going to write us both tickets for not having reflective tape on our side cases. Ha! Nice try motherfucker, Brian and I had had enough and we laughed in his face. We both suddenly forgot all of our spanish and started yelling back “no ticket, no ticket, my oval sticker is refelctivo”, referring to the reflective ADV sticker on our boxes.

Smile for the camera, douchebag.

Well, when his cronie cop buddies didn’t back his play, he backed down and handed our licenses back. Ha! Score one for the gringos and the ADV sticker!! We got stopped again another 15 miles up the road, but just the standard questions.

Back on the road and making tracks at last…

After all that though, it really does leave a bad taste in your mouth and make you want to leave Honduras as soon as possible, which is what we are going to do. I am not going to give this country one more tourist dollar, and tomorrow we’re going straight for Nicaragua. It’s a shame the asshole boarder officials and their cronies are ruining it for the rest of Honduras, as the country looks every bit as nice as the others in Central America. But on principle, I’m going to put my tourist dollars where they are welcomed, and not torn from my pocket. El Salvador did not cost a dime to get into or out of and the borders were for the most part straight forward and professional. In hindsight, I would like to have spent more time there voting with my tourist dollars. As for Honduras(border officials), they can go suck it.

Day 101 – El Tunco, ES to San Miguel, ES

Day 101 – El Tunco, ES to San Miguel, ES      11/30/10      Mileage: 122

Last night I realized that I had left my white “Pure Big Sky Powder” t-shirt in the hotel back in Acajutla, some 50 miles back. Damn…I like that t-shirt! But was it worth riding 100 miles round trip to fetch it? Well, apparently it is, because I rode my ass back to get it! I don’t think Brian was that thrilled, but that t-shirt has sparked many conversations with strangers, whether it was because it was from Montana or they just liked PBR…and that’s what made it worthwhile to retrieve. Anyway, after spending two hours getting my t-shirt back, we hit the road heading for San Miguel. The ride was quick and uneventful, and now we were in good position to make an early run for the notoriously painful, mind boggling and bureaucratically infuriating Honduras border tomorrow. As it was an short day riding, I spent the afternoon getting a haircut and changing the KLR’s oil.

The hotel in San Miguel.

Volcano visible from my hotel balcony.

That night we splurged on a nice steak dinner…beef medallions for Brian and filet mignon for me…both under $15…nice! Tomorrow it’s on to Honduras…country number 7!

Day 100 – Acajutla, ES to El Tunco, ES

Day 100 – Acajutla, ES to El Tunco, ES      11/29/10      Mileage: 66

I felt slighted out of a beach day yesterday, so after breakfast we headed south along the coat in search of a hotel on the beach.

Our “expensive” hotel…

I had picked this road out because on Google maps it looked like 50 miles of twisty goodness right along the Pacific Ocean. It turned out to be an awesome road and could easily be confused with parts of the Pacific Coast Highway in California. (For you riders, take the CA-2 south from Acajutla to La Libertad)

We rode it to all the way to La Libertad and checked out a few places there. None that we liked were on the beach, so we backtracked a bit to where we had passed some of the famous surf breaks that also had some hotels catering mostly to surfers. We checked out a couple but none fit the bill. Brian was tired of looking and just went back to La Libertad but I pressed on with the search for beach hotel! I struck pay dirt after another three tries and landed at the Tortuga Surf Lodge.

It’s a cool little hotel in El Tunco with a pool and it was right on the beach. Beers we’re $1.25 and ice cold and they also served some lite food….perfect!

 It just so happened that two other bikers had pulled in a few minutes before me. Dave and Sparky are from Vancouver Island, Canada and are on their way to Panama and back on their BMW R1200GS’s.

We had a few beers and told lies from the road for a bit, but I wanted to swim in the ocean so I quickly striped off my riding gear and jumped in. The ocean was warm and the waves were perfect for swimming if not surfing, though the main break was farther up the beach. Oh, and it wasn’t too crowded…  😉

After that I adjourned to the pool and had a few more beers with Sparky and Dave. We had dinner that night along with some of the other surfer guests and had a great time swapping stories and adventures. After a short stumble back to me room, I crashed for the night.

Parting shot….an orignal artwork at the Tortuga Surf Lodge. I knew I liked this place…  🙂

 

Day 99 – Rio Dulce, GU to Acajutla, ES

Day 99 – Rio Dulce, GU to Acajutla, ES     11/28/10     Mileage: 129

Brian I were on the bikes by 9:30 for the run from Rio Dulce to the El Salvador border. We wanted to get there well before nightfall to leave ourselves plenty of time to do the notorious border paper shuffle. Despite a fair amount of rain, the ride to the border was uneventful and we were there by 1:30pm. The first step was to cancel our Guatemala import permits for the bikes, followed by getting ourselves stamped out of Guatemala by immigration.

The El Salvador border crossing.

It was all very straight forward and they even made copies of documents for the El Salvador side of the border for free without us even asking! That was a far cry from some of the horror stories I’ve read on ADV Rider (website). As we were crossing, a fellow started talking to us and “helping” to steer us in the right direction. Sometimes unsolicited help is good, and sometimes it’s not…and I couldn’t figure which bucket to put this guy in. He pointed us to the right office to start the El Salvador border process, yet wanted a copy of our canceled Guatemala bike import permit…which we were told he definitely did not need by the people in the office. We’ll never know in the end, because as soon as we had our El Salvador bike importation permits and stamps in our passports, we split. All in all, it took an hour and half of paperwork, but was easy and didn’t cost a dime. Bienvenudos a El Slavador…country number 6 on my trip so far! Even though it looked much like Guatemala, it felt in some ways different…it’s funny how a line on the map does that. Our goal was to reach the coastal town of Acajutla and perhaps find a decent hotel on the beach. The ride down to the coast was good and had a real nice twisty section that went on for 30 or so miles. We arrived in Acajutla around 5pm and it was kind of a shithole. Undeterred, we headed towards the beach in search of a hotel. We pulled into the first prospect which Brian went to look at while I watched the bikes. His face said it all when he came back, to which he added…”Call me old fashioned, but I do prefer a toilet seat on my toilet.” It was only $10, but a man has to have his standards. The next stop looked more promising, as it was 50% more expensive at $15 and the outside looked clean enough. It was getting dark and our expectations, while already very low by US standards, were minimal. It was just not meant to be however. We looked at the first room and it was a complete sespool…the sheets looked like they haven’t been changed…ever. The toilet, while fitted with a seat, wasn’t worthy of a stall in the men’s room at the old Veterans Stadium during an Eagles game just after halftime. This is quite a feat, given that the shower head (cold only of course) comes out of the ceiling directly above the toilet…yes folks…no shower stall…you have to straddle the toilet while showering. Then there is of course the floor, which defies explanation as to how a shower stall sized room with what is in effect an overhead sprinkler could accumulate such filth. Brian and I at least had a good laugh before we declined and opted to press on with the search in the dark. Fortunately, I remembered passing a hotel next to a truck repair shop a few miles back, so we pointed the bikes back to the highway. We arrived and although it was expensive ($31) for what it was, we were tired and there were quite literally no other options… So we took two rooms and called it a night.

PS: Sorry for the lack of pictures today! I can’t believe I didn’t take a picture of the hotel rooms…damn!

Day 98 – Rio Dulce, GU

Day 98 – Rio Dulce, GU     11/27/10     Mileage: 0

Today Brian and I booked a launch to the town of Livingston which is not accessible by road. It was quite expensive and took up most of the day, but it included a tour of the area as well and we heard it was worthwhile.

The first stop was an small old colonial era Spanish fort which was neat to see from the water just as the pirates for whom the fort was built to defend against would have seen it.

Some local fisherman in dugout canoes

Next we stopped to view some islands where many water birds were nesting, after which we came into a small cove where young girls in dugout canoes paddled up to our launch selling local crafts.

The crafts were OK, but the young girls were adorable. We docked at Livingston and took a walk down the main street.

Livingston, GU

There are manhole and sewer covers missing not just in Livingston, but all over Guatemala. Replacements seem to be in short supply, so in this case the locals stuck a phone booth in the manhole to keep people from falling in!

Both Brian and I were kind of unimpressed with the town honestly, but it was good for a stroll and lunch. It would have been fine were in not for the fact that it cost 200 quetzals and 3 hours to get there from Rio Dulce! So, after lunch it was back to the launch for the ride back which thankfully was a straight shot. After that it was a shower, dinner, some route planning and off to bed for an early night as tomorrow we had a long day planned which would take us to yet another country…El Salvador!

Day 97 – Flores, GU to Rio Dulce, GU

Day 97 – Flores, GU to Rio Dulce, GU     11/26/10     Mileage: 129

Today was a short day in the saddle from Flores and Brian and I were in Rio Dulce in just over 2 hours.

Cool Beans….my favorite morning coffee and wifi spot

One last shot of Flores, GU

The road surface was the best I’ve ridden in Guatemala and was quite literally the only riding day where my tires didn’t touch dirt. We also bumped into 2 more riders on KLR’s who were heading north towards Belize from Costa Rica. In Rio Dulce we parked ourselves at Bruno’s Hotel and Marina which caters mostly to glob trotting sailors.

The pool at Bruno’s Marina

Chillin at Bruno’s

What I didn’t realize is that Rio Dulce also has a large number of wealthy expat sailors (and power boaters) that live down here either part time or full time. There are hundreds of very large sailboats and yachts in the area, some moored in front of what I guess are second homes. There are also transient sailors as well as some that just come down to escape the winter up north. I definitely caught (or rekindled) a bit of the sailing bug. Maybe that will be the next endeavor!

The main street in Rio Dulce

The “shoe store” in Rio Dulce….it’s no Jimmy Choo boutique!

The Yamaha dealer in Rio Dulce.

“Brilliant Riding”….I’m not so sure given that the bike is only a 125cc!

The view from the bridge over the river

Sunset over Rio Dulce