In Hot Water

September 10th to........

A new road is being built heading west along the north shore of Lake Itzabal. 25 miles or so along it is the jungle waterfall 'Aguas Calientes' or 'Hot Waters'. It's a perfect day for riding through the green, though we head out early to beat the intense heat....

It doesn't take us long to find the end of the asphalt and catch up with the construction crew....

All the roads we have ridden in Mexico and Guatemala that are being built or maintained remain resolutely open. Unlike England where they are often closed or coned off, here it's business as usual and you just weave in and out of the heavy equipment, keeping an eye out for the swinging booms of the earth movers.... health and safety is done differently here.

After 20 hot and dusty miles, we reach a cross roads and a track that heads down to the lake and another little slice of paradise. We rent a lake front cabin and take a swim to cool off and wash away the dust and sweat from the road....

Just over the other side of the main road is another track leading to a river hike to the waterfall and we set out early the next day....

This is what we came for. Above the river is a geothermal spring where the water emerges, bubbling up between the dense undergrowth before cascading 12m (40ft) down a rock face. Heavily mineralised, it has turned the formerly black rock to a rich beige colour over the slow millennia. At it's source the stream is almost too hot to touch, but by the time it flows into the river below it is just comfortably hot. It's an amazing feeling to be swimming in a cold river and to be pelted by a hot shower from above....

There are rock ledges you can perch on and tiny caves to sit in and be pummeled from above. It's like a hot water back massage - one of those high pressure sprays you find in expensive spa hotels. Here's it's absolutely free and the natural setting blows any spa hotel away, however much you pay. We slowly cook like lobsters in the heat, before returning to the river to cool off. It's a bizarre feeling to be in hot and cold water at the same time and we stay long enough to turn pink and wrinkly.

Riding back towards Rio Dulce there are ominous portents on the road as carrion birds line up in formation...

And shortly afterwards the road falls to pieces....

In Rio Dulce, we buy tickets for a coach ride back to Antigua. Sue's elderly father has not been well recently and she has been feeling increasingly guilty on the tour at being away and misses him terribly. Her mother and sister have been ceaseless in their care for him but it is becoming more and more difficult for them and she is keen to help out. She has decided to return home early to see him and has booked a flight out of Guatemala City. We take a bus back to nearby Antigua where we have friends who can store her bike.

I will be going home to see her and family as well, but first I am returning to San Pedro, before going to visit my brother and his family in America.

Unfortunately this does mean that this tour is coming to an end, but it is becoming an ongoing story written in chapters. This is the end of chapter 2 and chapter 3 will begin in January when Sue and I plan to return to Guatemala, reunite with our bicis and carry on the adventure for hopefully another 12 months. We intend to carry on riding south through the rest of Central America and on into South America at least as far as Lake Titicaca where I ended Chapter One some 14 months ago. This completes the chain for me all the way from Vancouver to Ushuaia at the Southern tip of Argentina.

Plans never go totally smoothly though as demonstrated by a tyre blowout on the coach ride back, solved here not by an Automobile Association style rescue, but by limping along on the shredded tyre to a roadside repair station where they replace the damaged rubber with their least worn replacement from the pile.....

Sue, ever relaxed in these situations finds time for a little snooze and misses all the excitement....

After hitting a traffic queue and waiting 3 hours for an accident to be cleared, we miss our connecting bus in Guatemala City and are resigning ourself to a night there when the office manager of the bus station personally offers to drive us on a private shuttle bus. It's a 3 hour round trip going out of his way to help us and he won't get back until well after midnight, so big, big thanks to him.

Plans often go awry and we may or may not be heading to Titicaca in January, but in life something generally crops up to surprise you at the last minute and we will have to wait and see.

I may write more on this blog occasionally between now and the next time we ride out in January, so please check for updates.

Otherwise many thanks for traveling with us thus far - it's been a fabulous adventure so far and thanks for all the comments and emails wishing us well and offering kind words of support - they are really appreciated, especially on the days when the going gets tough.

Adios amigos for now.....

Until January....

Martin and Sue

Guatemalan Getaway

September 7th to 10th

Returning to Guatemala, the boats are met at the Livingston docks by local Garifuna 'guides'. You can practically see them lining up the passengers and assigning themselves to their targets like marksmen homing in on their prey. Normally we would just walk on by, but Cesar, a larger than life character with a gold plated smile to match is hard to resist. We know there will be money involved, but it's probably worth it for the entertainment as he rattles through his spiel and helps us through the immigration system. He then shows us to 'The Hotel Africa' which would have been a sight to see in days gone by - rooms are huge and outside there are hanging stairways and arched courtyards.....

It's all set in beautiful flower gardens, but is starting to look a bit threadbare round the edges now....

Cesar then proceeds to give me the tour of the town, explaining how the system works and about keeping the money amongst friends and away from the Gautemaltecos. He points out all the best restaurants - best commission for him or best food - I'm not sure, but we do try 'Tapado' a rich stew of coconut milk, plantain (similar to banana, but less sweet) coriander and snapper fish. It's one of the tastiest meals I've ever had and Cesar Joins invites himself in for a beer. Money eventually makes him go away and he melts back into the crowds around the docks looking for new friends.

Livingston is unusual in that it is like a little island of a town completely cut off from the rest of Guatemala by the jungle. There are no roads leading in or out and the only access is by boat. It's remote and just a little bit edgy so far from civilisation and you need to keep your wits about you; Cesar is not the only one looking for ready cash. It's also a staging post for the drug trafficking business as boats make deliveries up and down the coast and inland on the vast river network running inland.

It's also a staging post for river tours up the Rio Dulce along a narrow canyon. We ride down to the docks, find a boat captain, load the bikes aboard and set out in search of a road....

It's a nice ride up the canyon, but nothing like the scale of The Sumidero Gorge in Mexico. The air is filled with bird calls and massive herons flap their languorous way between perches. Jungle vines tumble the valley sides which are covered in Bromeliads - tropical flowering plants and there is a hot spring to stop at and swim.

Our boat captain has fish on his mind though.

There are a number of Mayan fishermen plying their trade in dug out canoes and we make frequent stops to examine the quantity and the quality of the day's catch. Some bring their entire family along - I guess child care is hard to find in the jungle....

After several purchases I get curious and apparently his wife runs a restaurant while he runs tourists up river past the endless lily fields....

Eventually the river gorge widens out as we reach El Golfete, the first and smallest of the river's 2 lakes. Pelicans compete with the Mayan fishermen for the day's feed whilst ancient fishing boats slowly fall into ruin....

Eventually we reach the town of Rio Dulce, just as the river widens again, this time on to the vast Lago de Izabal - Guatamala's largest lake at around 230 square miles. We dock under a huge road bridge - Central Americas longest apparently....

Rio Dulce just looks horrible as we ride out from the boat docks. The main road is choked with vendors of a thousand different kinds all noisily shouting to attract their customer's attention. The bridge pours a never ending stream of traffic into this congested chaos and horns blare as both engines and drivers overheat. It's just mayhem as we try to formulate a plan of action in this seething maelstrom.

A quick U-turn and we are looking for another boat; our fourth in three days - this time to a jungle hideaway we've heard about a couple of miles up river. We bump into Uli, a Belgian motorcyclists we met in Semuc Champey who is now traveling with his girlfriend Mareka. We decide to share a boat....

It really is a jungle hideaway - wooden huts reached on boardwalks above the swamp and this is the view from the hammock and it's just wonderful....

It's run by Jonatan, a Swiss expat, about as far away from a European mountain village as it's possible to get and there's a cozy restaurant and common area with candles in the evening. It's slightly odd being served Italian spagetti, by a Swiss waiter listening to English music in a Guatemalan swamp with a Belgian couple.....

There are boats you can borrow and we paddle back to the lake for swimming and sunning on the pontoon....

There's a big American community here now lured south by cheap property and good sailing. Much of the lake is surrounded by boat mooring in this sheltered spot far enough up river to be beyond hurricane damage. I can see why they might be interested in this small slice of the good life....

Southern Belize

September 6th and 7th

In Placencia, we finally bid a fond farewell to Anna and Ali who are continuing on into Honduras. We've got plans to re-enter Guatemala and see the jungle gorges around Livingston and Rio Dulce, whilst they are keen to make up some time and put some miles in further south. So we head our separate ways. Good luck guys - it's been great riding together and we'll catch up somewhere else on this big blue/green ball of a planet....

Rather than ride north back along the Placencia peninsula, Sue and I take a short boat ride across the lagoon to 'Independencia'.

Oh the King is Coming....

Unlike Guatemala and much of Central America, Belize is mainly tropical lowlands with just a small, largely uninhabited mountain range in the centre of the country. The Maya Mountains top out at around 1000m (3300ft), small bumps in comparison to Guatamalan monsters; many of which soar comfortably above 3500m (11,500ft). The roads here skirt the highlands and riding generally looks like this....

It's hot, sultry work. To the west we see the Maya Range that would provide some spectacular views of the Caribbean Sea and some welcome relief from the heat, but the Humingbird Highway and now the Southern Highway were built to circumnavigate these peaks....

After suffering the loss of Anna and Ali, we are lucky to recruit a new team member on the road. On hearing we are heading to Guatemala, young Diego sets off in hot pursuit, his tiny legs a whirring blur as he tries to keep up....

He's with us for a couple of miles, before we convince him to return home....

Unlike this one that's been following me for about 9,000 miles now....

It's an easy ride through 3 different national parks - the 'Savannah', the 'Swasez Bladen' and the 'Deep River' Forest Reserves. Belize takes it's conservation seriously, in the sense that 40 percent of the country is now national parkland and many of it's animal species are protected. We meet a marine biologist - Penelope who's worked here for several years and explains she is still torn between; on the one hand the government's desire to do good, and on the other it's opportunistic cash grab by taking otherwise unused land and charging an entry fee to tourists.

Hhhmmm that's a tricky one.

What's not up for debate is the beauty of the land. Not in a spectacular sense like the Guatemalan Highlands. No, here it's more of an easy going type of easy on the eye. The variety of bizarre flowers is impressive....

The variety of the people is also impressive. Belize probably has the biggest diversity of peoples I have ever seen anywhere, and this in a country about the size of Massachusetts state. Placencia was mainly a 'Creole' town, where Dangriga was mainly 'Garafuna' or 'Garinagus', a mix of indigenous South American and Africans. A third of the population are 'Mestizos' of indigenous Central American and European descent, and there are also Indian, Chinese, European and North American communities. Added to that are a range of Mayan tribes, the 'Yucutec' in the north, the 'Mopan' in the west where we crossed the border and here the 'Kekchi'.

You only have to ride a couple of hours for the language, the clothing and the shapes of the faces to change completely. Gone are the wooden stilt houses of the Creoles in Placencia and the more Guatemalan style Mayan huts and corn fields now dot the landscape....

An hour later, the colourful traditional Mayan dress fades out and it's all American baseball caps, colourful basketball shirts and bling-bling as we near the American rapper styled town of Punta Gorda and it's 'Garifuna' population. We're back to Caribbean chill-ax and the bikes reflect the laid back attitude - beach style cruisers are the rides of choice round here. Single speed - no brakes, white walled fat tyres and very cool....

Punta Gorda is pretty much the end of the road - this is literally the southernmost road in the country. Belize is not particularly blessed with an abundance of routes, but then not many people drive and the roads that do exist are empty. South of here there is nothing and the only transportation out of Punta Gorda is by boat, either to Honduras, or to Guatemala. We have to spend the last of our Belizean dollars and 'Miriam's' restaurant offers a good opportunity with it's fine blend of Indian and Caribbean cooking. We spend an evening reminiscing about past bike tours with Vanessa and Piotr, a couple we met in Placencia and then again in Punta Gorda who rode from Italy to Spain.

We also discover 'fry-jacks' for breakfast, an oily, bready, corny deep-fried thing that is totally bad for you and totally delicious with eggs and hot sauce.

I took a photo of the last of the money before we converted it all to food. It just seemed a bit weird seeing the British Queen on currency not only denoted in dollars, but sporting pictures of jaguars as well! The back of the $20 depicts tapirs, ocelots, spider monkeys and a raccoon like 'coatimundi' and is very cool....

Can't say a lot happened in Punta Gorda. It is described in the guide books as being so laid back, the locals can't even be bothered calling it by it's full name. Even the road signs refer to it rather diminutively as 'PG'.

It's true! Nothing happened here and 'sleepy' is an understatement, but it's a nice place to relax on our last Belizean stop before heading through Immigration, parting with a $37.50 exit tax and boarding the world's smallest international boat....

Next stop Livingston and a return to Guatemala...

Caribbean Cayes

September 1st to 5th

A quick 25 miles back in land from Dangriga brings you to a 7 mile track disappearing off into the jungle. It leads on a steadily worsening surface into 'Cockscomb National Park' which is unique in being the only Jaguar reserve in the world....

Belize, despite huge fruit and logging businesses and also having a tourist industry where annual numbers of cruise ship passengers outnumber the entire population 5 to 1 still manages to run massive debts. The governments response has been to issue squillions of dollars of bonds to prop up the ailing country's finances, and to hike taxes and prices massively. Belize is not a cheap country to tour and it's all a bit of a shock after Mexico and Guatemala.

We are asked to pay $60 Bz ($30 US) to enter and camp in the park. Considering we were paying $6 US to camp in National Parks in the states, that seems a little high. For the same price we take a 'rustic cabin' which is an 8x6 foot room in a shack with bunk beds.

On the plus side, it's incredibly beautiful and we have the place - the entire place, like the whole national park to ourselves....

Being an ex-British colony, hikes and trails are well marked and there are accurate maps. Normally this is not noteworthy, however after over a year in Latin countries, this is the first place where we can just hike without having to hire a guide or book on to a tour....

We take an easy hike up river where and you can hire oversize inner tubes and float languidly down river. Well it starts fairly languid, and then we hit a series of rapids and have to paddle for dear life to avoid rocks and submerged branches. It's great fun and a beautiful way to see the jungle. At one point the river divides, and so does our group as I get caught up in the current and cannot prevent myself getting washed along this new course. There are just a few moments of mounting worry as I speculate on my new heading; visions of raging waterfalls or spear throwing tribesmen on the river bank passing through my mind, before the 2 flows finally join up again about a mile or so down stream....

Another short hike takes you to the place where Dr Allan Rabinowtiz's plane came down shortly after taking off in a thunderstorm. Previously the plane was used to track Jaguars for Dr. Allan's research into their numbers and movement. Fortunately no-one was killed, except for the aeroplane which is now, slowly becoming part of the jungle....

In all there are 100,000 acres to explore with trails leading to hidden waterfalls, and the park derives it's name from the range of mountains that have a serrated ridge reminiscent of a cock's comb. We see no jaguars however, except in the visitors centre where they have a rogues gallery of these incredible cats caught on hidden cameras. Beautiful place though.....

We leave heading south towards Placencia, a narrow spit of sandy land that splits from the mainland and extends some 20 miles out into the Caribbean Sea. On the way we cross a number of river bridges, mainly supplied by the UK and the European Union. Frequent storms have damaged several of them and in some cases they have been completely washed away. This is hurricane territory after all and we pass by a couple of solid looking storm shelters. We also cross a couple of not so solid looking temporary bridges....

When we reach the sand spit, the land narrows to under 200m in places - just wide enough it seems for a narrow road and an American retirement community to either side. There are new builds going up everywhere and even more for sale in this little strip of paradise with the Caribbean on one side and the tranquil Placencia Lagoon to the other. Half way in the road is under construction and a year of Spanish has taken a toll on my English skills. We completely fail to comprehend the sign and ride through the 10 mile building site; sending the girls first - just in case....

It all gets too beautiful and we have to stop at Maya Beach for a cold one....

Placencia is a Creole town, the descendants of British loggers and black African slaves. They have their own language (Kriol), a mixture of English, Native American 'Miskito' and various West African Languages; it has some similarities to Jamaican Patois and sounds to-tally tropicaaal. The buildings are wood and stand on high stilts above the high tide levels....

It's also a seafood town and local hero Oscar runs the finest restaurant in town perveying fine snapper fish and lobster that he personally caught that morning. Lobster in a creole sauce with rice and beans. Sue finds a new kind of food heaven....

On a beautiful white sanded Caribbean beach we find 'The Coconut Man', errr - selling coconuts (what else?) under the coconut tree. He offers lessons in 'Slack Rope' walking - 'Dis is not de tite eRrope, dis be de slack eRrope' he drawls by way of explanation. Slung between 2 coconut trees it's weirdly addictive and after a couple of hours of flailing arms and frustratingly lame attempts, it all starts to come together and we take a couple of stuttering steps....

Placencia is just another of those simply magical place we have visited on this trip....

Dat Der Ees Dee Caribbean - Man

August 27th to 31st

We leave Tikal happy, but minus a pint or 2 of blood.

Everything bites in the jungle and we are a mass of spots, swellings and itches as we ride out. Anna has had a particularly tough time - she's just so succulent and juicy and one particular type of green and yellow 'deer fly' took a real fancy to her. One bite on her knuckle swelled up alarmingly, making her knuckles completely disappear like the mangled, oversize hand of a bare knuckle boxer. She was beginning to feel a bit woozy from the injected poison.

Apart from feeding the wildlife, it was a memorable experience and the 'Chewbacca' style roars of the howler monkeys follow us out of the park.

We take another night in El Ramate by the beautiful Lake Peten Izta....

Before heading out early next morning for the Belizean border - now just an easy 45 miles away on heat hazy, lazy rolling black top.....

The last day's ride in Guatemala is another mixture of high pitched insect buzzing in the isolated areas of dense green jungle, interspersed by coconut tree lined grassland with skinny cattle....

The border crossing is a formality, but one strangely conducted in English. I automatically address the Belizean immigration officials in Spanish - it's just a habit by now, only to be told - 'You can speak Eenleesh 'ere - man' and it's a bit of a shock to hear my own language after eight months in the Spanish world.

It seems a bit more formal and organised here compared to Mexico and Guatemala; we are even asked for ID numbers for the bicycles and proof of ownership. Well, it's formal in a totally casual, laid back style, all very chill-axed and easy man.

Current day Belize is a land mass about the size of Wales and was formally 'British Honduras', a British colony between 1862 and 1981 when it finally declared independence, hence the use of the English language.

The first day in a new country is always interesting as you try to get your bearings and adjust to your new surroundings, looking for ways in which things have changed.

Gone are the dull grey cinder block dwellings with tin roofs of Guatemala to be replaced by brightly painted wooden shacks, usually a bit warped and twisted and a little rickety looking....

People call out from the comfort of their hammocks as we pass by 'Aaaal-right' or 'Hey man - how ya doin', in thick drawled out accents.

Theirs an olde worlde charm to the place. This wooden clapboard house is the local police station....

We are in for a bit of a shock though when we reach the first town and try to withdraw some money at a bank. 'There are insufficient funds to complete this transaction' is the worrying message - repeated at all the banks in town. Tales of card cloning and bank accounts being emptied race through our minds as we struggle to find an internet cafe with a working connection. When we finally log on, we are reassured our money is still there, which is a huge relief, but it's a good job we are travelling in a 4 and can borrow money from Anna and Ali.

The bank shenanigans have eaten into the morning and it is scorchingly hot when we get back to the road and head out on the 'Western Highway' towards the capital 'Belmopan'. It's an easy ride on almost empty, flat tarmac laced with potholes....

Turning off just before Belmopan, we head south on the 'Humingbird Highway' that passes through the heart of Belize, crossing several national parks on the way. We hit 'Blue Hole National Park' after 50miles or so and call it a day, pitching the tents amongst the greenery. The park is named for a beautiful blue grotto from which an underground river emerges and we take an evening swim as the sunsets through the hibiscus flowers....

There's a huge tropical storm in the night, which carries on through the morning and we cycle under leaden skies treated to occasional blinding flashes of lightning. It's mostly easy riding past miles of orange groves, their ranks of fruit laden trees organised in endless grids, soaking up the rain. Occasional steep pinches keep the legs warm....

And suddenly there is the tang of salt in the air! The skies clear and we begin to see the distant shape of sea birds wheeling overhead. We leave the main highway and make for the town of 'Dangriga' - where we get our first glimpse of the Caribbean Sea!! On a white sandy beach, we get our first taste of 'Belikin' a dark, cold beer - brewed right here in Belize.

From Vancouver, Canada via Washington where there was snow on the ground - to this! This is a Caribbean Beach!