Thursday, February 25, 2010

We All Scream For Ice Scream

February 14th to 19th

Strange how crossing the border makes such a big difference – to the land, I mean. People changing is to be expected, but suddenly the land widens out and the world becomes a much bigger place. The climb to El Poy was along a narrow strip of tarmac hemmed in by steep banks and encroaching trees. We're still climbing amongst the pine forests, but now we have sky to the side of us as well as above and we are encouraged to look about and widen our field of view.

The view back across the town of Ocotopeque where we spent the previous night and the mountain range at the border....


The road squeezes between a biological reserve and El Guisayote Biosphere over a 7000feet pass through the mountains. Hondurans take their conservation seriously it would seem, highlighted in a beautiful roadside mural showing a land in transformation.....

This is coffee country and the cool damp air helps the crops to grow in the shade of taller trees. Plantation workers dry beans in mottled yellow stripes at the roadside...


Much of this country is covered in cloud forests and we experience our first one crossing the pass. That wide-screen view we were enjoying earlier suddenly closes in as we ascend above the cloud base....


The air is suddenly damp... very damp..... and cold. Cold? We didn't expect to feel that until the high altitude of Columbia at the earliest and we hastily unpack to dig out rain gear stashed and forgotten at the very bottom of our panniers. Lights and reflectors are put to good use as ghost cars hunt us down in the gloom. We wind a watery way over the crest of the mountain and suddenly our fingers are numbed as the moist air condenses into freezing water droplets. Locals look on in bewilderment, plump in their extra layers and thick coats as we ride on through the grey rain,. It's a far cry from the lowland furnaces of El Salvador and I never thought I would be shivering in Central America!

Racing downhill, we hit the cloud base a lot quicker than on the way up and, like drawing a veil, the world suddenly reappears and begins to warm up again.

Now we're in banana country as we head along a wide valley between the Gallinero and Gelaque ranges and in riots of colour that put the Ruta de Flores to shame, vendors set out their stalls....


In this land you enjoy the valleys while you can because you know that as soon as you see a distant mobile phone mast up on a hill, that's where the road will be going. Here you're either grinding climbing or screaming in free fall.

This corner of Honduras is like a thin wedge squeezed between parts of El Salvador and Guatemala and the 3 countries come together like triangular slices of a pie centred on Cerro Montecristo. Consequently it's a hub for trade and the road deteriorates into a series of huge, deep potholes as traffic increases and we race 18 wheelers off the mountainsides....


Villages are scarce and when we do pass through, buildings are rudimentary smallholdings surrounded by chickens and turkey. Often constructed from just sticks and mud they none the less seem to display a sense of pride in their colourful gardens....


How weird is it when you stop for a lunch of egg sandwiches on a rock and you suddenly start to believe you can hear the distant chimes of an ice cream van in amongst the raucous bird calls. Must be hallucinating we think – we've not seen an ice cream van since..... forever - and we're about 20 miles from the nearest town.

And then, out of the blue, there it is in the distance, giant loudspeaker blaring a gay tune from the roof, and apparently we're not going mad.
And now I believe it is stopping in front of the rock we are using as a dining table.
And now 2 strawberry and chocolate cones are miraculously appearing through the window.
And apparently they are for us.
And they are free....
Suzy enjoying the most unlikely of lunchtime snacks, still not really believing what she is seeing....


I keep saying Central Americans are friendly, but Hondurans are more demonstrably so than our experiences of other countries so far. In Guatemala, they were more shy, and waited stoically for us to make the first move before breaking into ear to ear grins. In Belize they were just too cool – all lazy aaaariiiights lying prone in a hammock. Here people whistle to get your attention and then wave expansively – teeth shining along with their eyes.
Or some just bring ice cream....

We ride through La Labor and through some more rain in to Santa Rosa de Copan, the largest town we've hit so far at around 35,000 people. All talk is of 'La Tormenta' (the storm) and people question whether we should be riding in such inclement conditions. When we try to find a comedor (a cheap cafe) to eat most are closed because it's 'just too cold'. It's a world away from England where this weather would be a fine summer's day in Manchester. OK, it's a bit drizzly and maybe 60 degrees (16 Centigrade) but a 'Tormenta'?? I guess it just depends what you are used to, but I can't believe these people are putting a cyclista's supper in jeopardy for this! We find a hardy soul who braves the elements to cook up a fine chicken and rice dinner and the crisis is averted.

Then we are on to La Entrada and round the corner past La Florida. We're meandering a circuitous route that takes us back within 10kms of the Guatemala border. It's a 1000kms way of getting to within 250kms of where we were in Antigua a month ago. But we wanted to see Ruta de Flores and El Salvador first, and now we want to see Copan; another ruined city of the ancient Mayan civilisation.We finally reach the fertile 'Amarillo' (yellow) river valley which allowed this great city state to flourish well over a thousand years ago and follow the water course into modern day Copan....


Monday, February 22, 2010

Notes From a Small Country

February 13th to 16th

Shadows are long in the golden light of dawn as we ride North to the Honduran border. We get one and a half blissful hours of cool riding....


After leaving Colima and crossing over the edge of Lago Suchitan, the land tilts sharply upwards once more towards the Cordillera Matapan Alotepeque range that divides El Salvador from Honduras. We want to be as high up as possible into the fresher mountain air before the sun peeks over roadside vegetation and cooks us in our skins.

It's a chase we just about manage to win as altitude and a strengthening sun balance out to keep a steady temperature as our morning wears on. Our reward is a hazy view back to the now distant lake over the dense forests we just climbed through....


Those forests have changed from tropical palm, through to mixed deciduous trees that finally begin to give way to pine as we ascend above 4000 feet. The air is suddenly scented with resin as the breeze picks up and the skies resound with a thousand bird calls as the number of homesteads reduces. It's a steep ride, but it's also a great feeling to be tested by the gradient alone, knowing you can work hard now in the cooling air - without overheating.

Eight miles short of the border is the lovely little mountain town of 'La Palma'. It's a Saturday and the Central Park is a hive of activity and excitement. Children run this way and that as news has spread far and wide - The fair is in town!!

The central square looks like a scrap yard after an explosion in a paint factory. Brightly coloured chunks of metal lie piled up and abandoned wherever they could be unloaded from the back of an assortment of wagons and pick-ups. High above it all, two men scramble with the agility of spider monkeys assembling the big wheel. Harnesses and safety lines would just slow them down and they rely on an uncanny sense of balance and skill....


Smaller children make mischief amongst the chaotic playground, until they are chased of by workers. Older kids stare on in anticipation, their necks craning further and further back as each section is bolted on....


The carnival starts a little later; an army of masked drummers beating out a noisy tattoo....


As a series of carnival dancers and costumed figures light up the street....


This wouldn't be Central America though without the food stalls, and there are street vendors wherever you look with the usual array of burgers, fried chicken and grilled corn on the cob. But you can get that anywhere and we are more interested in the entire streets given over to sweets and cake stalls. Local sugar is employed in a variety of inventive and tasty ways that takes a fair bit of time to come to terms with....


A large stage has been erected behind the church and live music (of various quality) booms out well into a night enjoyed by a large friendly crowd.

The fair is a bonus – we never expected it to be here and as we have found in many of the places we have passed through, things are done by word of mouth here rather than through commercial advertising. Sometimes you just get lucky!

Even without the festivities, La Palma is a colourful place, home as it is to an artistic movement called 'Naïve Art' which was founded here in the 70's by Fernando Llort a French trained architecture student who sought refuge here in the mountains as tensions built before the civil war . He set up workshops where other artists could come to learn the style that has come to represent modern El Salvador. Colourful murals line the streets on the sides of buildings....


Farming scenes represent the new hope as a country rebuilds....


A final climb between the imposing 8000 feet peaks of Cerro Montecristo and Los Planos takes us to the Honduran border at 'El Poy'. Again, the crossing is a formality and we have time to chat to a couple of the immigration officers who seem slightly miffed that we spent so little time in El Salvador, especially when they can see how long we spent in Guatemala from our passport stamps.

What can we say.... it's not that we didn't like the place.... true we had some elements of doubt when we read their spectacular crime and murder statistics, but any fears were soon allayed by the almost fanatical friendliness of the people. El Salvador IS a nice place and it has some great destinations like Lago Coatepeque.

But that's the problem maybe – as a country I came away thinking it was just 'nice' where Guatemala was spectacular and Belize was so interesting due to the vast mix of indigenous people. El Salvador strikes me as a place with a bit of an identity crisis. It was the main tourist destination in Central America, before it tore itself apart in the 80's and it would obviously love to make up lost ground and reclaim that title once more. At the same time it is now the most densely populated country in CA, with the highest standard of living, partly due to the number of ex-pats working in America and sending money back home. Now it wants to modernise - drive up to the mall, in it's jeans and 4x4 jeep, order food to-go and step into that homogenised, air conditioned world that it remembers from working abroad.

I don't blame it for that - but there is a price to pay.... El Salvador just came across as a bit more bland than Mexico's colour, Guatemala's scenery and Belize's diversity.

But then what does it care what I think....

We roll on into Honduras, as ever with eyes fresh and staring. A new country, new treats ahead.... Look left, look right – what's new!

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Extreme El Salvador

February 9th to 12th

It's a tough old climb back out from Lago de Coatepeque....


So we decide to reward ourselves with an extravagance when we reach Santa Ana - El Salvador's second city....

Sue's mother and brother both very kindly provided our Christmas presents in the form of dollar bills, which just happen to be the currency here. Their express instructions were to spend them foolishly and who are we to argue. Ahhh 'Hotel Tolteka' - drink service round the pool - don't mind if I do....


This is a country of real contrasts. An estimated 2 of the 7 million strong population works abroad, many in the US but there is a large community in Italy too. Much of what they earn is sent home and there is considerable wealth in parts. Memories of what expats have seen in the States also return and the outskirts of Santa Ana echo the design and shape of the US. There is a large shopping mall with huge bill board adverts towering above the highway and a plethora of US style diners and burger joints with giant 4x4's outside in the parking lots. It's a culture shock after the poor housing and farming villages we have just passed through.

Further in, the city is more chaotic and typically Latin in style....


The central plaza is bordered by an old Spanish colonial style theatre and municipal buildings plus a neo-Gothic cathedral. It's an eclectic mixture.

We brought parts for the bikes back with us from the UK and this is bicycle TLC El Salvador style. Juan Pablo and Jesus (a common name here pronounce Herzus) work the spanners in a dimly lit earth building with many home made bits of equipment. I fret and take the tools off them when they look like bending the delicate bits. The bill is a hefty US $4....


With our steeds running more smoothly and with less of those worrying grindy clickety type noises we head East towards 'Suchitoto'.

Formally the nations capital, it holds the more recent distinction of being the town where much of the early fighting in El Salvador's civil war broke out. During the late 80's it was the scene of much destruction causing a large proportion of the surrounding population to flee the country. Now it has re-invented itself as a quaint cobble stoned tourist attraction centred around it's February festival of art and music. Unfortunately that's at the weekend and we arrive midweek so we hike to nearby Lago Suchitlan instead....


It's good to be on the bikes again so we pass up on more ambitious hikes to a nearby waterfall and also the site of an FMLN guerrilla hideout near Guazapa Volcano. FMLN was a coalition force of 5 seperate guerrilla movements that united to overthrow the government in the civil war of the 80's. After the peace accord in 1992 they formed a political party and were democratically elected last year. Ironic?

Suchitoto now seems to be beginning the next revolution and signs and symbols are everywhere detailing what appears to be a strong women's movement. Almost all houses have a stenciled slogan painted by their doors - 'In this house we want a life free from violence towards women'....


We back track to the main highway north and like I say this is a country of extremes. After the 4x4's and the shopping malls full of gold jewelery and designer label clothing it's right back to basics.....


Oxen provide the power to transport and now crush sugar cane and corn outside wattle and daub huts....


Property is strongly protected in a land where violence is common and the murder rate is amongst the highest on the planet at around 10 a day - an incredible statistic for such a small population and hard to credit from a people we have found to be so friendly and welcoming....


Our standard of accommodation takes an extreme turn in Colima when the only hotels available are 'Auto Hotels'. This is type of place, usually just out of town where you drive in the back way, hide the car behind a tarpaulin curtain or in a garage under your room and pay by the hour. Condoms are often included in the price and discretion is assured. They're not always up to the standards of Hotel Tolteka above though....


We snuggle up in a bed built for one, try to ignore what is behind that shower curtain and definitely don't touch the walls. Still - it's not all bad; this kind of luxury comes cheap - and that means more budget for food. Sweet dreams....

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Bienvenidos A El Salvador

February 5th to 9th

Crossing the El Salvador border is a formality - which is a relief as the midday sun is like a laser beam scorching exposed skin. Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras and Nicaragua share a common visa in a 'Group of Four' agreement that encourages trade and worker migration between the countries. That's the good bit, the bad bit is that we get 90 days to cover all four countries and fines for overstaying are stiff.
We've got 66 days left and knowing the speed we travel....

First impressions of El Salvador, hmmm, well it's early days, but once we are out of sight of the hired guns guarding the border, I am subjected to some of the most aggressive begging I've encountered on tour.
And all from a guy in his 20's with a 3 foot machete on his belt! I don't really want to get into a 'conversation' so I quickly refuse him which he doesn't like - it's a pretty scary situation. I ride back so Sue does not have to pass him alone and we put on a burst of speed....

Next we skirt a landslide that blocks part of the road leaving just a narrow strip of Tarmac high above the river valley. Loose stones are falling from the vertical earth wall where the road has been cut into the mountain. We've been here literally 5 minutes and it's a fine Welcome to El Salvador.

First impressions can mislead however, and the next 20kms is a never ending series of 'Holas' 'Bienvenidos' (welcome) and 'Que Le Vaya Bien' (May you travel well) from the locals we pass. El Salvador is the most densely populated of the 7 central American countries and we are greeted, it seems, every few meters. We hit a hotel and crack a local cervesa to christen the new country and life is suddenly better again...


A monster climb takes us 1450m up into the 'Sierra Apaneca Ilamatepec' to 'Ahuachapan' and the start of 'La Ruta de Flores' (Route of Flowers). According to Lonely Planet, from October to late February the mountain terrain is awash with wild flowers in a spectacular display for the next 25 miles to 'Sonsonate'.
Except it isn't.
Last years poor rainy season may explain their absence, but we're struggling to be impressed. Sue asks a friendly local for guidance...


To no avail and I am reduced to snapping the blooms in a hotel garden. A 'Bird of Paradise' flower....


A google search for the route of flowers reveals that no-one has ever taken a picture of a flower on this route! Volcanos, villages, colourful chicken buses - yes. Flowers - No! The only flowers are those grown in nurseries that dot the road side and I come to admire El Salvadorian marketing - a clever ruse me thinks.

Can't complain too much though. Villages like Ataco are decorated in a fantasy assortment of murals painted by local artists and buildings try to outdo each others for colour....


Once we crest the mountain range at 'Apeneca' we make screaming zig-zags down the other side racing locals who use home made box carts to transport everything from firewood to supplies to entire families down hill....


This is the volcano picture that everyone takes - the distant cones of Santa Ana, Izalco and Cerro Verde....


I love it when a plan comes together and we arrive in 'Juayua' on a Saturday for their weekend food festival. It's all too much!
The streets radiating out from the central plaza are all closed off to traffic to make way for the food stalls and the air is alive with a bonanza of enticing odours. You can sample traditional El Salvadorian fare - beans, spicy sausage, pupusas (fried tortilla pockets of cheese or meat), fried banana and salsa or more exotic rabbit, snake and kangaroo?? How do you choose - they all look so lovely! We decide to eat quickly and come back later for more...


Mmmmmm, in El Salvador - the food is good. Very Good!
The night life however is poor. Our scheme to spend the evening gorging turns to dust when we leave our hotel and the town has vanished. It's all just packed up and left while we weren't looking - and we missed it. It's 6pm! What happened? El Salvador is a start early - knock off early kind of place it would seem....
We eat pizza instead.

We too start early. Dawn over Santa Ana Volcano...


Dawn is 6am and by 8am it's boiling! The riding terrain is not particularly tough here, but much of the country is relatively low lying so there are none of the cool high altitude breezes of Guatemala. The sauna like heat with a constant series of short steep climbs over rolling hills combines to make the going tough. There is little tree cover in this deforested land and no protection from a fierce sun.

A road on our map turns out to be non-existent and we are forced to ride a grueling extra 3 hours climbing to reach Lago de Coatepeque. This roughly circular, 4 mile wide lake sits in the crater at the top of an extinct volcano beneath near vertical 250 meter high sides.

The restaurant sways alarmingly as people get up to leave their tables on the world's most rickety wooden structure whilst we dine. Apart from the risk of crashing into the lake, it's all very fine and a meal can be had for just US $5. The view is free!
We contemplate a day off. We need to rest weary legs.... but also to make the most of this incredible lake setting....


Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Humbled in The Volcano's Shadow

Feb 2nd to 4th

It feels good to leave Taxisco. it's probably only one of a couple of times we have not felt safe in a Guatemala town. It's a feeling that does not go away when a motorcyclist pulls along side me and then forces me to stop so he can warn me off the road we are travelling.
'Why are you going this way?' he enquires. 'There are armed robbers and kidnappers on this road' he explains.

The road in question climbs north along the shoulder of Tecuamburro Volcano to our next destination Cuilapa. If you cycle tour long enough, you will hear this kind of warning many times about 'this road' or 'that town' or sometimes even about entire countries. You have to respect some warnings, whilst others are just mere prejudice or simply fear of the unknown. We cycle on....

The day is again incredibly hot and humid and after 8 miles or so the road aims unerringly towards the steep side of the volcano. It doesn't take us long to realise this is going to be a challenge - this ride would have been a challenge before we spent 4 months at home eating cream desserts and watching TV.....


After 3 hours grinding in our bottom gears we are stopping to cool down and catch our breath every 500 meters or so and we are falling way behind schedule. There is little to no shade on the road and we ride in the full glare of a fierce sun. I am carrying 14 liters of water, Sue has 4 more and we are rapidly getting through it. We are stopped and warned about the road again and I am beginning to wonder....

2 hours later we are still climbing and Sue is pushing her bike as much as riding now. I ride part way, then jog back and help push her bike uphill ahead of my parked bike then ride to catch her up. We do this in relays. A third passer by stops and quite angrily barks at me not to leave my bike unattended. This is getting crazy now....

We're just going too slowly and we finally crest the climb well into the afternoon. If we had expected spectacular views from the summit we are in for a disappointment....


A ghostly figure emerges from a thick soup of smoke. The air is thick with an acrid smell that burns the throat as we try to hold our breath long enough to ride through the worst of it. This is the solution to Guatemala's waste problem. Lorry loads are carted to the top of high passes, where families live to incinerate the mess in great bonfires before pushing the half burnt detritus over the edge where it spills for miles down the volcano's side. Raggedy urchins play in the filth looking for salvage as do carrion birds from upon high....


It's a horrible spectacle, especially when you consider how a view point like this would be turned into a beauty spot elsewhere.
I am torn and it's hard to be too critical when a country gains access to plastic bottles, coca cola cans and the other trappings of modern life before it has organised a solution to deal with the problem. Maybe we in the west are just better at hiding the things by covering them up in land fill sites. It's a hugely sad sight non the less.

By 4 pm we are another sad sight as we collapse exhausted for the umpteenth time by the road side. We are finally spent after fighting heat exhaustion, humidity and crazy gradients for over 8 and a half hours. Normally we would just throw up the tent, cook up some pasta and sleep it off for the next 12 hours, but the repeated warnings have got to me and it just doesn't feel right here. Up here in the mountains, there is just no flat land and it's impossible to get more than a few meters off the road. With just 11 miles to go we know we cannot make it before dark and we finally have to swallow the bitter pill of defeat and stick out the thumb. It's an ignominious entry into Cuilapa on the back of a pick up truck.

The heat exhaustion is the worst of it and we rest the next day and rebuild our strength in local restaurants....


I can see why they turn to alternative food sources when the cattle are in such poor shape....



Learning a lesson we hit the road at dawn and ride for a brief couple of cool hours before the sun builds to full power. We ride for the border 75kms distant over land that ripples in and out of valleys away from the volcano....


We are passed on the road by hundreds of speeding motorbikes; many in groups set up for touring. Curiosity gets the better of us and we stop at a petrol station and meet a gang bound for a Central American bike convention in San Salvador....


The border is beautifully set on a bridge over the Chalchuapa River with Vulcan Suchitan some 30 miles away in the distance....


Once we persuade the all too aggressive money changers to 'go away', the crossing is a formality as Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras and Nicaragua all belong to a group of nations and share a common entry visa.

It's over the bridge and 'Welcome to El Salvador'....



Sunday, February 7, 2010

(Un)Easy Beginnings

January 31st to February 1st

We're going to be on telly....

There's a choice of two roads out of Antigua; East through the stinking car choked mess that is Guatemala City, or South through the deep valley between the monster peaks of Volcanoes Fuego, Agua and Acatenango (fire, water and errr.... Acatenango).
No contest really and we finally get this cycle tour on the road and ride South!

Separated by just 15kms (10 miles) these mighty peaks stand well over 3700m (12,500ft) and they're a neck craning spectacle from the valley floor 2500m below. 'Dramatic' was a word invented for such scenery.

Unfortunately their summits are shrouded in cloud, and whilst we wait for a gap in the grey, two other cyclists join us. Alex and Fin, are two British cyclists accompanied by their Dutch film crew who just happen to be passing by. They're on a mission charting the effects of climate change whilst filming a 13 part documentary for Dutch television....


We've been chatting for 10 minutes – just the normal exchange of routes, stories and experiences when we realise the whole thing is being filmed. The main camera crew only joins the guys three times for a total of 9 days in their eight month ride from Alaska to Panama – the rest of the tour is filmed by Fin and Alex on a hand held camera. As our interview is completely spontaneous and was filmed by the crew, we are told there's a good chance it will be included. We sign release forms to allow use of the footage – I particularly like the bit of the form that says 'Name Of Talent'.

This is Fin and Alex's first tour and another couple is being filmed riding simultaneously from Colombia to Tierra del Fuego to chart a bicycle tourist's perspective from the extreme north to the southern tip of the planet. It should make for an interesting documentary and I hope it is made available outside of Holland. It's a bold undertaking for two guys who have never done anything like this before and we wish them well....

Unfortunately the clouds remain and sadly it's a grey day to be riding such a fantastic route. Volcano Fuego is still active and every few minutes it rumbles and spits grey fire high into the sky. It's just a little unnerving to be this close to the slumbering beast....


The ride is a nice way to get our lazy legs turning once again now they have gone so soft and pudgy after such an extended lay off. We race out of the highlands and down to the coastal plains, dropping 1100m in the day, before stopping in the dusty town of Esquintla.

The next day dawns clear and bright and suddenly the temperature is noticeably higher. The cool mountain breezes have been replaced by still muggy air so hot and languid, it's almost chewy. We ride and feel the heavy reluctance of the air as it parts to go around us. 15 miles to the East another active cone (Vulcan Pacaya that we climbed before Christmas) smoulders and creates it's own localised cloud cover in an otherwise pristine sky....


We ride across a thin wedge of flat coastal plain lying just a few metres above sea level and narrowing from around 40 miles in Western Guatemala to just a few miles at the El Salvador border. It's fertile land and Esquintla and it's surrounds are home to sugar processing plants. Huge 34 wheel wagons carry what at first looks like ordinary tree branches, but on closer inspection turn out to be raw sugar cane....


The terrain is relatively easy riding over a series of undulations, however it's not just in the legs where we have lost conditioning and the heat begins to take it's toll. Drink and cool-down breaks are frequent and progress is slow, which is no bad thing as it would be a shame to rush....


We cross a series of small rivers as mountain rainfall drains south towards the sea. Above is spectacular colour as the trees are in bloom, their flowers aglow against a deep azure sky.


Below, sections of the road seem to crawl and move under our wheels as hundreds upon thousands of flying insects come together in an orgy of procreation...


The heat does take a heavy toll and we roll wearily into a dangerous looking town Taxisco still 10 miles short of our intended stop for the night. This is not a place we would choose to rest up for the night. Men stare emptily at the midday day sun, sitting dejectedly on pavements. Drunks shuffle by bar stool gamblers mumbling incoherently. A few sport holstered pistols on their hips and the banks are guarded by hired shotguns. Communication with shop owners is met with indifferent silence or a slurred version of Spanish so rapid neither of us can even catch single words.

None of this matters though; we are spent for the day and find a room in a hotel showing signs of former glory. Chickens are the only ones interested in the empty swimming pool - it's faded paint peeling and chipped....


We put the bikes in the room, lock our door and settle in for a hot sticky night...