So far on my Panamericana-trip I was mostly traveling alone, although I never felt lonely as you always meet people to chat with on the street like other travelers or curious locals. But now switching within a stage from traveling by two to one feels strange. We got used to each other so easily. When you start spending longer time with someone for the first time, you never know how this works out. There’s always the possibility for heavy discussions or even fights… but not even close in this case. Amazing conversations every day and support for each other when the other one needed it. So, it’s a change of scene…literally.
As it is heavy raining in northern Honduras for days now without a sign of change, I decide to head south to El Salvador and catch some sun. A few days at a beach also doesn’t sound too bad and the Beast also needs some attention and this is better done in dry weather.
The way I chose from San Pedro Sula towards El Salvador leads over some nice mountains. The further I go, the less traffic is on the street…especially when you also subtract all the cows who are more often seen than cars in the mountain area here. No surprise that a so less frequented street doesn’t get much attention for maintenance. It’s like in Mexico in the mountains when the street lost its pavement: It gets dirty and rocky. But during daylight it’s a way of fun to drive it. I can wash down the dust by driving through the creeks as the bridges are only in preparation to get build. It reminds me on my way through Mongolia…although the rivers there were wider, rougher and hided some surprises beneath the water line. This day-trip feels like a small smooth adventure.
For the border crossing to El Salvador I’m prepared for everything after the experiences the days ago but beside it takes long and it’s not structured, there aren’t big surprises. My favorites of this border crossing were the paid waiting persons (they queue in the lines and take money from real travelers to exchange their line position) and the check-point pass-through ID, which was a post-it paper with my license-plate-number hand-written on it by one of the officers plus his signature. But it worked: The check-point a few hundred meters after the border control asked for the post-it and let me go after handing it over. One of my few border-crossings before sun-set. Nice…
It’s Friday night and I feel to get out. San Salvador is on my way and as the biggest city of El Salvador I expect some great night-life. Off the bike, under the cold shower (warm water is uncommon in El Salvador), put on my nice clothes and out…on the empty streets. Strange. I head to the fancy quarter of San Salvador. Silence. I search for the recommended bars, find them and be often the only guest. What is going on!? It’s Friday night! It reminds me of Mexico City at Christmas…but at this day there’s no holiday or something. I just don’t get it, head back and go to bed early and start early to the beach the next day. It’s a short drive to the coast. El Zonte is the place where I build up my tent close to the beach. Nice beach, nice water, a few surfers, enough beach bars and a lot of time to recapitulate all the experiences of this trip so far. It sounds funny but I need a vacation of the vacation. Too many impressions in a short time. Watching the waves and the surfers (El Zonte is a paradise for beginners) really helps.
For a short time I imagine myself trying to start learning to surf but after talking to a french couple who stayed at the beach already for a month trying to learn to surf and not really succeeding, I decide to skip it this time but just to enjoy the time. Additional I need to look after the Beast. New sparks, new oil, new filters and some tender loving care. Although I intensely investigated for the reasons why the Beast has some issues when I try to accelerate hard, I cannot find anything. Finally I will end up handing the bike over to BMW Motorrad at San José in Costa Rica at the end of this stage. When I’m writing this section, the mechanics also couldn’t find the reason of the issues yet. I hope it’s nothing serious.
Back to El Salvador: After spending some time at this nice coast, I drive the “Ruta de las Flores“ (road of flowers), which I was looking forward really hard. Well, it was nice. The small markets at the towns along the road are also interesting but nothing special in comparison to what I saw before in Mexico, Guatemala or El Salvador. Coincidently I drove in Honduras the “Ruta de las Flores“ and liked it far more than the more famous edition in El Salvador. Don’t get me wrong: It’s good, but if you could chose between the road in Honduras and in El Salvador, take the more northern one. Nonetheless, what is good at those small markets: You can get fruits cut in small portions for a penny. A whole pineapple or papaya is a bit difficult on a motorcycle. But cut pieces are nice for supplies on the road. A completely over-sugared coffee and my market-breakfast is close to be perfect.
In Honduras I drive as mentioned the “Ruta de las Flores“ and pass La Esperanza, which is sometimes called the capital of coffee. No idea who wrote that, I cannot approve that. As a coffee lover, I look forward to get there and try different versions of coffee. But where ever I go, the coffee shops only offer „coffee“. What kind of coffee? Coffee. Black or with milk. Is the coffee from this area? Could be. ..long story short: I planned to stay here for a day or so but I leave after two hours having seen everything. Time for a new country: Nicaragua! No idea what to expect by this country, so let’s have a look. Unfortunately the responsible officer for immigration needs some extra money and this lack tortures him that much that he even forgets the laws and rules. He insists that I have to announce one week ahead when I want to get into Nicaragua. Never heard of this rule before. He smiles. I open the web browser and show him the travel-guidelines to Nicaraguas on the website of the embassy. Nope. No announcement needed. His smile fades a bit. Mine too…after several hours of waiting. He requests the confirmation by the ministry. Sure. Let’s talk to the president next. One tourist couple has enough of the waiting and hand over a big dollar-note. Five minutes later the approval by the ministry arrived…just for them. All other tourists including me have to wait further. I have enough and search for the phone number of the German Embassy, which I tell the officer as he asked what I’m doing. With eyes wide open he runs into the office and immediately comes out again with the response that the ministry just approved my entry. Lucky him. I should have searched for the phone number a bit earlier. Whatsoever, I’m not able to reach Granada on that day as planned but will stop in Estelí. This city, well known by it’s revolutionary movements in the past, attracts me. I didn’t plan to even stop here but as I have to spend a night here, I get a closer look to it. It’s fascinating, pulsing and alive. In comparison the La Esperanza, which I had on my list, I prefer this free-spirited city. As it is located in the mountains the day starts quite cool. I put on my warm motor-cycle suite layer. Within half an hour drive the temperature raises from 50°F (10°C) to 90°F (32°C). My destination is the city-triangle Managua-Granada-Masaya. I cannot decide which one to visit first and chose to hang my hammock in the volcano Apoyo. As this volcano is filled with water it’s called Laguna de Apoyo and it’s always warm by it’s natural heat. The volcano-minerals in the lake help me look younger…at least a day or two younger.
At the edge of the lake are several hostels and resorts but I chose an animal protection organization as this is the only place who accepts hanging my hammock in their garden. Different kind of wild monkeys are climbing up on the trees over my head and I only hope that they don’t drop any kind of coconuts or so down on me. It’s funny to watch them playing and searching for food. All the different noises in the jungle are also quite interesting. While I’m unpacking my stuff I hear a noise quite close by and I see a sloth in a cage. Not really sure how this fits with the aim of the animal protection organization, one employee tells me that the sloth was rescued after it was caught and mistreated by some people. Because of the mistreatment they had to remove one eye and amputate one leg of the sloth. To protect the sloth from other animals, it will stay in the cage. I feel horrible when I hear that story but I have to accept that I do not only hear good and nice stories on a trip like this. As the appearance of any human is frightening the sloth, I chose to have my dinner at a different place. Nothing fancy, just something to eat. The neighbor hostel seems to offer some good meals and I get surprised as I immediately got chosen to join a team for the weekly trivia game. Trivia in the jungle? Why not? At the end our team wins a bottle of rum which we empty while playing pétanque…just for better aiming. For whatever reason it’s quite hard to get out of the hammock the next morning. Better change the location and have a closer look at Granada.
The change is quite enormous: Nearly no tourists at Laguna de Apoyo and masses of tourists in Granada. That’s too much for me right now and I drive further to Managua where I dance through the whole night. It seems I ate something weird the day before why I get a little sick. A few pills from the pharmacy help me to be ok again two days later. Before I say good bye to Nicaragua, I have a closer look to Masaya.
I head directly to San José, the capital of Costa Rica, as there are many open questions about the planned storage of my motorcycle in Costa Rica. The border crossing is the worst experience I had on my trip so far. Some officers of the emigration don’t even start looking in my passport without some additional motivation. Others send me back to long waiting lines just for fun. I have to fill out forms, which aren’t needed. …and always the hint, that if you leave some money on the desk, everything will be easier. Thank you for nothing.
As the Beast has more and more issues while acceleration, I had directly to BMW Motorrad. Here I meet a motorcycle group from Brazil with who I exchange stories, information and contacts. In the evening I meet Marcio and Guy of the group again for dinner and interesting stories. They are interested in my Alaska trip and I’m interested in their South America experience. As the evening was too short for all the stories we probably will meet again…somewhere on this planet.
While the mechanics are working on my motorcycle, I use the time for some sight seeing in San José.
Finally the mechanics couldn’t find the root cause before my departure, why I leave the bike at the shop. As long as it is fixed until my return, I’m good.
From summer-warm San José I head back to rainy Seattle via the winterly Atlanta. A huge delay in Atlanta cools me down to the temperatures I’m not really used to any more. I’m curious when the next stage will take place.
