Author: clifandsusan

BOom Bang a Bang 2

So there we were twisting again like we did last summer, round n’ around n’ up n’ down we go again.

We negotiate each bend, each hairpin, on the narrow road moving higher and higher into the mountains. We’re not going fast, just enough to maintain momentum.

Time and time again we make the corner. It’s never easy. It’s never comfortable. We’re constantly on the edge of failing and falling.

It had to happen. Our luck ran out.

We swept round a hairpin corner and at exactly the wrong moment a car descending came round the hairpin corner above us. The car kept coming. Oh yes I have a photo!

We were both travelling about 15 mph and closing fast. I tried to accelerate to the concrete on the right. You can’t really see it from the photo but that’s the inside of the corner and steepest part of the road. I had nowhere else to go. The car kept coming.

That’s when I realised we had a problem. I asked for more power from the bike and it just wasn’t there. The bike couldn’t take us up that side of the road. It didn’t accelerate. The car kept coming.

The bike stalled. It stopped and went down to our right. Oh yes I have a photo!

What an action shot!

As you see I have a foot down. I’m lightning fast. I’m already looking at the spot I’m going to fall because my first priority is to protect my shiny new helmet.

Susan on the other hand is (as we say in Scotland) ‘going doon like a sack o’ tatties’.

Now if you look closely at Susan you may think she’s put on a lot of weight on this trip. Please can I tell you that’s her BOom BOom jacket already inflated. BOooooom. Pssssssssss. Beeeeeeeep beeeeep.

Down we go. We hit the ground then bike and us continue to slide downhill into that concrete rain gutter. Thankfully I stopped when I slid into Susan.

It’s quite disorientating falling off the bike. No matter how many times we do it we just can’t seem to get used to it.

As I’m falling I hear the BOom. I thought it was the bike. Then I realised it’s a BOom BOom vest. Jeez I didn’t feel it going off! Then I realised it wasn’t me.

As well as the beeping from Susan’s BOom BOom vest, the bike is trying to make it’s automatic emergency call.

I’ve said it before and I will say it again. It’s ridiculous to think an old guy like myself can fall off a bike and get to the ‘off’ switch in 30 seconds. I’m still going ‘what the fu*k, what’s happened’ before trying to get my trapped leg out.

What about my vest? Well it hadn’t gone off. Probably because I didn’t go down like a sack of tatties. Saved us £100 for a replacement gas cylinder. Nice. Chalk one up for the dainty big guy.

By this time the two chaps are out the car and helping Susan up. I’m left to get up myself.

Petrol is running out the bike but its just because it’s kind of upside down on the hill.

Thankfully it’s fine. Thankfully I’m fine. Susan is fine too, just looking big.

With the help of the two chaps we righted the bike and I got on. I tried to get up the hill but it kept stalling. We unloaded the cases off the bike and tried again. It stalled. I fell. BANG.

It’s okay though Susan wasn’t on the bike. Just me. She was hot though. I mean sweaty hot. And Big.

The guys helped us for about an hour. We pushed and pulled that bike. One guy was great at helping take the weight of the bike on the steep hill. The other guy was not much use. He must have been the boss. I’m pretty sure he was the driver that kept on coming.

I was absolutely knackered and trembling from the continued effort. One more go. The bike stalled. I fell again. BANG.

This time I not only fell off the bike I rolled down the hill like humpty bloody Dumpty. Oh yes I have photos for your absolute delight.

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall

It’s all good though. Yes, I now have bruised ribs and rips on my jacket but just look at what Susan is carrying – yup she’s got my nice new shiny helmet keeping it safe. Nice.

What was causing our problems was the bike’s clutch was knackered. Right from the start, we both fell off when it didn’t engage properly and by now it was just downright reluctant.

It was sooooo hot and we decided to wait, let the clutch cool whilst exploring other route options.

A nice couple in a jeep thing arrived and offered to take Susan and the luggage to the next town. They loaded the panniers into their car.

I was hesitant about trying it again. Everyone is looking at me. The two guys from the car that kept on coming. The two people in the car that were trying to take Susan and luggage to the next town. The five of them were silently staring Humpty down.

Then in the quiet of the mountain stillness, Susan uttered these immortal words ‘one more time Cliff, one more time’.

Now I’d like to paint a movie scene where Susan looks at me (you know the kind of looks you used to get on Little House On The Prairie), pats me on the shoulder, comforts me with encouragement in her eyes and says those immortal words.

But I always paint the truth.

She said these immortal words as she started climbing into the bloody car!

I shouted. ‘Don’t get into the bloody car, I have even decided if I can do ‘one more time!’

To be honest, I don’t know when I would have given up. I was nearly there but not quite. I had one more try. I felt the pressure from the silent five pairs of eyes looking at me as if I needed to get a grip.

I really was at my limit. I was struggling. I was soaking sweating. I was trembling from sheer exhaustion. I felt battered and bruised.

By this time the clutch had cooled a bit and I gave it ‘one more time Cliff’.

The bike roared, the clutch slipped, it shuddered, it picked up and touch and bloody go, I made it to the top of the hill. Humpty rises!

The 10 mile journey to the next town was helter skelter and treacherous although the road improved. It’s okay don’t worry – ‘one more time’ Susan was quite happy in the car.

Here’s a photo of the changeover when the couple gave me the luggage and ‘one more time’ Susan back.

We packed up again. Susan had to zip up her inflated BOom BOom vest because we still had another 90 minutes of riding over mountains to our destination. Did I mention I was shaken and at my limit? Well we couldn’t stop, there was no other option.

Thankfully, the roads were two way and not so hazardous.

And so we’ve seen photos of humpty rolling down the hill so it’s only fair we see a photo of Susan to make us smile. Here’s 42 GG ‘one more time’ Susan.

So that’s part 2 of BOom Bang Bang.

What about the dodgy clutch ‘humpty’?

Well that’s another story for another day.

It got worse. Much worse!

You wouldn’t believe how much worse if I told you!

BOom Bang a Bang

‘Come closer, come closer and listen’, BOom Bang a bang, BOom Bang a bang’

What on earth am I talking about? A Lulu song from the 1960’s?

Well the words are appropriate and all will be revealed. You’ve just got to read on for a bit. Patience please.

So we’re in Costa Fortune and it’s time to move on from Manuel Antonio to La Fortuna in the mountains. We’re going to look at jungles because Susan likes jungles.

You will have noticed I’ve changed the country’s name to Costa Fortune. That’s not a typo.

It’s probably because of the influence of American tourism (yes the Yanks are here in numbers) but the cost of everything is sky high. Food is expensive and buying a beer is just legal extortion. I pay less for a beer in central London than I do here. It’s unacceptable.

Anyway, back on the road again. Yes, yes I’m coming to BOom. I’ve not forgotten! You like a BOom and a bit of hardship. I appreciate you prefer stories about me suffering rather than Susan and I can let you know, on balance, (two bangs to one BOom) I probably did.

Oh you’re happy now and can’t wait for that story!

Our journey started after breakfast about 0730. The sun was shining and it was hot and humid. We stopped when we saw a crowd on a bridge and parked beside the polis.

We looked over the bridge to see what all the commotion was about.

Now, Susan likes animals, birds and insects of all kinds. I’m ambivalent to looking at animals unless they’re medium rare with a side portion of chips.

On this occasion, I was impressed. Crocodiles. I love these guys!

Susan was disappointed they weren’t moving but that’s the point. They don’t move. They don’t give a …….. (‘big editor chief’ will delete the word I was going to use so please use a word you think is appropriate). 2% of my friends will choose the right word.

If you drop your phone over the bridge when taking a photo then nobody is going for it. These guys are top tier hard! They don’t need to move to impress.

It was then goodbye to the polis and goodbye to the crocs and we headed into the mountains. We headed along the small, winding, steep roads recommended by sat nav.

Now before you roll your eyes to the sky and say (whilst sipping a latte in the comfort of the latest Instagram cafe) ‘oh, did the ‘big knobber’ follow sat nav and get himself into trouble?’ ‘Did he really?’ Well, yes ‘big knobber’ kinda did!

Let me give you some mitigating circumstances – I cross check these routes as much as I can and in central America the information is patchy at best. I reviewed this route countless times and well, to be frank, I still failed.

So, there we were on roads that were a little bit more than single track, paved but broken, multiple potholes, steep, acute bends, going higher and higher. On a big heavily laden two up bike it was tortuous. We were in the back of beyond and only saw the occasional local in a pick up truck.

At some junctions the turn was so tight Susan had to get off and let me manoeuvre the bike myself. She then jumped on and off we went. Up and up. Higher and higher. On a wing and a prayer.

We came to a Y junction on a 30 degree incline. I had a left or right choice. The sat nav faltered. I had to choose in a split second because I couldn’t stop moving. I chose right!

Well I fuc*ing didn’t!! I chose WRONG.

I’m sorry about the profanities but you need to try and empathise how I was feeling. This wasn’t good. Really it wasn’t!

Right away the road surface turned to broken rubble and the aspect changed to 45 degrees. I don’t exaggerate. It could have been more. Get your protractor out and have a look at a 45 degree slope!

I immediately knew it was the wrong road. I knew it was the wrong fuc*ing road two seconds after I took the right road!

And I couldn’t stop!

If I stop the bike’s going down. It’s too steep to stop.

I keep it moving.

I’ve no idea what Susan is thinking because I can’t talk. I’m too busy trying to deal with the situation and the rising panic. I would like to say I was cool but I wasn’t. My mind was racing. The bike was racing. You can’t go slow. To go slow is to fail. And failing is going to hurt.

Thankfully, Susan says nothing. She can sense things are wrong and knows it would have been better to have gone for a swim with the crocs.

‘So what are you going to do ‘big knobber?’ ‘What have you got poor Susan into this time?’ Careering up a mountain! Careering ‘big knobber’!

Well I had a plan! You hear that, I had a plan!!

My plan was to keep going until I got to the top!

Don’t smack your forehead! Yup, it’s not a great plan but it was the best the ‘big knobber’ could come up with.

Have some thought for poor Susan. She didn’t know we even had a plan. All she knew is that the ‘big knobber’ wasn’t speaking and if the ‘big knobber’ stops speaking we’re in serious sh*t.

Jeezo, the bike bounced and skidded and we were all over the road. Then, after what seemed like an eternity the incline reduced slightly. Then the road stopped. I stopped. It wasn’t the plan. It was the end of the road.

I managed to hold the bike and Susan lept off like a woman dismounting after an Olympic event on the parallel bars. Whoosh. Jump. She’s down. Feet on the ground.

That’s a relief. I’m sure you’re all happy for her.

Now it’s just ‘big knobber’ and the bike. Unfortunately, the bike was in control as it started slipping backwards down the road. Brakes were on. Bike was still reversing. Gravity is a bugger.

I knew we had passed an entrance to a field about 100 meters back down so I released the brake, stopped the skidding, started rolling. A metre it rolled then applied the brake. Another metre we kept skidding. I let it roll another metre. Braked. Another metre it kept on skidding. Another metre I let it roll ….. you get the picture. Perpetual motion.

I knew if the bike fell I couldn’t pick it up again on this slope. I knew nobody else was coming up this road. I knew we were on our own. My arms and legs ached. A painful ache.

Before you get concerned, let me remind you Susan is okay. She’s probably a little hot but she’s fine. So just relax and read on.

Well, I rolled and skidded the bike down to sanctuary of that field, turned the bike around and faced down the rocky road.

By this time I was in a bit of a physical wreck from the exertion and the heat. I couldn’t get off. I had the next issue to face – getting back down again.

My first thought was for Susan to walk to the bottom. About a mile. It’s 35 degrees centigrade. 45 degrees slope.

That’s not the option I chose. Remember I’m a ‘big knobber’ today and I thought we can do this and asked Susan to get back on.

Well I tell you, there’s no hesitation. No winging. No wimping. She gets on and we bounce and slide down that bloody mountain. I’m telling you she’s got balls of steel!

At the bottom we rehydrate with warm water whilst I try to stop trembling with exhaustion. We then get back on the bike and continue.

This time we take the right road on the left. Still with me? Up and up we go.

‘Oh come on ya ‘big knobber’ where’s the BOom, bang a bang you promised us?’ ‘You said you came off worse than Susan!’ ‘You said be patient!’ ‘We want to hear about ‘big knobber’ coming a cropper!’

Yes, yes I hear you – did I say I was finished?

Did I say we had reached La Fortuna, our destination for the day, and I was relaxing with a cold beer?

No I didn’t.

However, after all that narrative I want to leave part 1 of this story with a photo. Here is the cold beer I eventually had in La Fortuna.

But I had to get there first. And, unfortunately, there was still worse to come that day ………

Pura Vida

‘Pura Vida’ is the quintessential Costa Rican phrase. It’s everywhere.

It means ‘pure life’ but for Costa Ricans it represents a way of life, a simple life, a sense of well-being, positivity and gratitude. It can be used as a greeting or as a thank you, a way to saying everything’s good or an expression of joy.

The barman serves me a cold beer. ‘Pura Vida’ I say.

As you can see I immerse myself in each country we visit. I’m a cultural chameleon.

Let’s start with a photo of a ‘big dog’ on a beach.

We all know ‘big dogs’ love beaches.

And a photo from our hotel balcony. Yes I’ve splashed out again. It’s not all goretex and sweat you know.

We went for lunch nearby after the beach walk.

‘Oh big deal! Cliff took Susan for lunch. We have lunch every day but we don’t bang on about it in a blog’!

Yes, yes I hear you but you should know by now that my lunch is better than your lunch. Still not convinced? Well, my lunch had a C-123 cargo plane!

As we say in Scotland ‘I bet that’s put yer gas at a peep’!

Oh it hasn’t? A genuine C-123 cargo plane isn’t enough? You’re a hard lot to impress.

Well what if I told you a story about this particular C-123? A story that involves the Americans, the Iranians, the Contras, the Sandanistas and the Nicaraguan civil war!

Want a further clue? What if I say Colonel Oliver North? Oh I bet that’s got some alarm bells ringing in some auld heids!

Yes of course I’m talking about the 1986 Iran-Contra affair involving Ronald Reagan’s government. To briefly recap – the Americans sold arms to Iran; the Iranians used influence to release American hostages in Lebanon; profit from arms sales was diverted to the contras (rebels) who were fighting the Sandanistas (Nicaragua Govt).

The whole scheme was run by covert CIA who through a ‘front’ company bought three C-123 cargo aircraft to smuggle arms to the Contras. One of the C-123’s was shot down and another ended up being the backdrop for my beer and lunch.

It was she biggest scandal of its day and they even made a movie starring Tom Cruise. I think I’ve just played the lunch story trump card.

Pura Vida mis amigos.

Hola Costa Rica

We had an overnight stop in David and as Susan had a difficult day with the onset of heatstroke I gave her the choice of evening meal. Yes, I know sometimes I just ooze kindness and empathy.

She chose McDs. Honestly what gets into her? In the UK you would have to drag Susan kicking and screaming into a McDs but on the road she’s like a donkey looking for a carrot!

Next day we made a dash for the border with Costa Rica. Up at 0530am and at the border for 8am when it’s quieter. As they say in the army somewhere ‘we don’t fanny around’.

The Panamanian border was chaos. It’s like a shanty town and there’s random screwballs everywhere trying to ‘help’. I abandon the bike and some guy asks me for our passports. He looks like a random screwball. No chance. Trust no-one is my philosophy.

We enter immigration office, get processed and then it’s back out into chaos. Another random screwball asks me for the bike import permit. No chance. We walk into the customs hall. It’s empty. Back outside. Ah, that random screwball is actually the customs guy. He takes our bike import permit and logs us out of Panama.

On the bike and off we go looking for the Costa Rica border which is supposedly 4 km down the road.

10km zooming later we’re in Costa Rica and heading to our hotel. Great you think. Well we just have a minor problem – we haven’t been though Costa Rica immigration and we don’t have an import permit for the bike.

We had passed a big building that looked like an Amazon warehouse but there was no indication we should go in. In fact I’m comfortable saying only stupid people who didn’t know what they were doing would have entered.

So we entered the compound where the stupid people go and found to our intellectual surprise it was the border station.

It was hot and so Susan stood in the air conditioned customs hall whilst Clif worked like a middle Eastern donkey and unloaded the bike.

(authors note: the previous paragraph has been changed by ‘big chief editor’.I actually wrote that ‘I worked like a hot roasted monkey with a rocket up it’s arse’. However, ‘big chief editor’ changed the content and I was given the following feedback – firstly, it’s cruel to animals; secondly, only 2% of ‘my’ friends (‘my’ friends, totally excluding ‘big chief editors’ friends) would think it was funny!)

So there you are. I’ve been censored and the content is no doubt more acceptable to ‘big chief editor’s’ friends and 98% of my friends. All I can say is you lot need to stop worrying about animals and get a sense of humour!

We stripped off our motorcycle gear and walked through the scanners and Susan remarked that she was glad she decided that morning to wear a t shirt under her BOom BOom vest. Close call Susan! She was nearly walking through the customs hall in her bra.

Some guy then stuck us with a pin to get a blood sample for a malaria test. It was nippy sore but I was a brave wee soldier.

Whilst Susan stood under the air conditioning, I completed the customs and insurance procedures and loaded the bike. Honestly, I was running about like a ‘hot roasted mo…..’. Oops there I go again. Sorry.

As we were about to leave, almost as an afterthought, a chap asked if the bike been fumigated. No says ‘honest Susan’. ‘Where do we get it fumigated?’ ‘Back in Panamanian Border Shanty Town! Three cheers for honest Susan!

As soon as we hit the Panamanian Border Shanty Town all sorts of random screwballs were all over us offering to ‘help’.

We spotted a big wet shed that looked like it could be the place. An ‘official’ guided us in and in reasonable English helped me place the bike in the right spot to get sprayed.

It’s time for a photo and as Susan wasn’t in her bra in the customs hall the best photo you’re going to get is a bike in a wet shed.

Meanwhile it turns out the nice English speaking ‘official’ who helped us was actually a bloody random screwball!

Well done random screwball you got under my screwball radar. He earned his $2 tip. On reflection, I should have spotted the real official because he was grumpy, spoke no English and had a clipboard. You live and learn.

As a side issue, the disinfectant spray started my driving lights working again. It must have been bugs in the system! (groan).

Once we were all legal we motorcycled down the lovely twisty well paved roads in Costa Rica. Unfortunately it’s single carraigeway with double yellow lines down the centre of the road. No overtaking!

You may think we’re two easy riders ..

‘moving on the Queens highway lookin’ like a streak of lightnin’. If you gotta go, go, gotta go motor bike ridin’

(there’s a song reference for you)

Except we’ve got a conscience. And more to the point it’s a bloody mind reading conscience! Oh and I think you’ve already guessed it can’t possibly be me with a conscience!

You see there we were, happy zooming along at the 80 kph speed limit with a few cars in front of us when all I hear in my ear is ‘these yellow lines mean that this will be an accident area and so it’s dangerous and the police will be patrolling’.

Who needs your own conscience when there’s one on the back of your bike! Yup I’ve got my own Jiminy Cricket!

(there’s a movie reference for you)

Oh, I know she’s right. We all know she’s bloody right! And she’s right to say it to a man that’s singing ‘streak of lightnin’ to himself.

Then, fate puts a slow moving lorry loaded high with wood and a twenty car tailback in front of the man with no conscience……..

Suddenly Pinocchio can’t hear Jiminy Cricket and with a quick swerve and a twist of the throttle we’re ‘lookin’ like a streak of lightin’ …..

Hola Costa Rica highway.

Big Dog Sees The Light

Yes, I know, you want us to get off our lazy lardy asses and on the move. What’s the point of a travel blog if it’s all marvellous historical stories.

We left Panama City at 0700hrs heading for David. Susan insisted we start early before rush hour and you know what my view is – what the big dog says the big dog gets!

It didn’t help that ‘big dog’ Susan was nervous about climbing onto the bike again as her last pillion journey was in Buenos Airies in 2023.

Today was a 275 mile trip and the sun was shining, the humidity was wetting and all was okay. Or so I thought. ‘Big dog’ doesn’t like wearing goretex bike gear; doesn’t like the ‘hat’ (yes she’s still calls the helmet a hat); doesn’t like the leather gloves; occasionally doesn’t like me. I’m only kidding – she doesn’t mind the leather gloves!

Early in the day, here is ‘big dog’ in a happy mood sitting in a nice relaxation area I picked for her.

Big Dog and Diet Coke

As the day reached 36c and the humidity reached ‘I’m totally wet inside ‘big dog’ became boiling in the bag ‘big dog’.

‘What about you wee dog’ I hear you ask! Thanks for your concern but I was okay. Sweat runs down my body, down my legs and into my boots where I have a couple of drain holes in the soles. Crafty ‘wee dog’.

By mid afternoon boiling in the bag ‘big dog’ says over the comms ‘I’m not feeling great, can we stop? ‘

Unfortunately, we’re in the middle of nowhere to stop. So ‘wee dog’ presses on. Naughty ‘wee dog’.

‘I’m feeling sick’ says boiling in the bag ‘big dog’. Okay I will try and stop but it’s a dual carriageway and this isn’t the time to stop. Heartless ‘wee dog’.

Meanwhile, we had bike issues. Yellow driving lights stopped working, super loud horn went from a blast to a squeek and we lost the door to a toolbox attached to the panniers. The heat and the road conditions were playing havoc.

I know exactly what you’re thinking – it’s marvellous how ‘wee dog’ can keep going when everyone and everything around him is breaking down? Tenacious ‘wee dog’.

Right on cue ‘wee dog’ gets another message – ‘all I can see is white light’. ‘Everything started to get brighter and brighter and now all I can see is white’.

At this point it became clear – ‘big dog’ was overcooked.

We stopped. Well I had to didn’t I?

If ‘big dog’ had fainted and fallen off it would have been terribly inconvenient to turn around on a dual carriageway and pick her up. You see – I’m always thinking consequences!

Thankfully sneaky ‘wee dog’ had the presence of mind to take a photo of ‘big dog’ sitting on the ground at the nice relaxation area I picked for her.

After some cold water and cheap ice cream ‘big dog’ was back in the game.

How are you feeling now? asked ‘wee dog’. ‘Much better thank you’. ‘You could have stopped earlier’.

What do you see now ‘big dog’? ‘

A basta*d!’ came the reply.

Oh Bad ‘wee dog’

Standing On The Shoulders Of Evolution

Let’s start with a photo of Panama City from our hotel bedroom.

Then another from somewhere else.

Now the Panamanian flag for people that like flags. It may come up in a quiz someday! I’m always looking after your general knowledge.

So ‘Big helmet heid’ and Susan are in Panama City hoping to travel to Alaska by motorbike. And there lay the first issue when the bike became stuck in Istanbul courtesy of Turkish Airlines.

After a fraught four days chasing up cargo and customs agents we finally got our hands on a big box at the cargo terminal. Hello bike, goodbye anxiety.

We’ve got the bike and so what else is going on in Panama I hear you ask. ‘Tell us something interesting for a change’. ‘A photo of a box just isn’t enough’. ‘Even ‘Pointless’ is more interesting than a box’.

Honestly, you’re a hard lot to please. Well, sit down for I’ve got an astonishing story to tell you. It’s pre pre history and about a land time forgot.

Panama is on an isthmus. What’s an isthmus ‘Big Helmet Heid’? Yes, I’m anticipating what some of my non privately educated readers are asking. Well an isthmus is a narrow strip of land connecting two larger areas. In this case, it’s north and south America.

Now back in pre pre history there was north America and, yes you guessed it, south America. The bit in the middle wasn’t yet created.

Over time, volcanic islands rose between the two big bits, the sea level dropped and the isthmus that is now called Central America came into being about 3 million years ago. ‘So what ‘Big Helmet Boring Heid’ I hear you scoff, ‘I’m going back to Pointless’.

Well here’s the astonishing part. Here’s the part you will remember for the rest of your life. You will tell this pre pre history story is pubs and family gatherings and have everyone enthralled.

You see, the isthmus of Panama had impacts that were felt across the globe. By dividing the ocean in two, scientists believe changing ocean currents created global climate change, influenced an ice age in the northern hemisphere and causing a more arid climate in Africa. Grassy habitats expanded at the expense of forests and these conditions permitted the evolution of homo sapiens.

Here’s a quote from a bright scientist:

‘the implication of this chain of causation is that the human genus would not exist but for the tectonic uplift of a narrow neck of land between the Americas that set in motion a series of changes in oceans and climates that cascaded around the world’ (A Bright Scientist, Cambridge University Press)

So there we are. You knew homo sapiens originated in Africa but if it wasn’t for this isthmus you would not have been here reading this today. You might still be swinging naked in the trees. Not a pleasant sight so just be thankful for the Panamanian isthmus.

When you think about it, Susan and I are starting our journey at the origins of humanity and the cradle of civilisation. Here I am, representing you in Panama, standing on the shoulders of evolution. I feel humble.

You want just a little bit more? Well here’s another quick pre history story. Did you notice how I effortlessly moved from pre pre history to pre history? I’m a time travelling historical factual storyteller.

Ps If you’re bored and just want to hear about Susan suffering then move on a couple of pages. If you have an appetite for interesting stories then bear with me.

Did you know, the Americas were populated by humans who travelled from Asia across the Bering Strait when Siberia and Alaska were connected with a land bridge? Yup another isthmus! See you’re getting the hang of that word. Don’t thank me just try and use it every day for a few weeks and you will have the knowledge for life.

As I was saying, humans migrated to North America from Asia and then down to South America via the Panamanian isthmus. How’s that for a migratory story?

And if that wasn’t enough that leads me onto yet another factual story. Don’t stop me you haven’t had enough yet.

About 3 million years after the creation of the Panama Isthmus, what the Americans do? Well of course they put a bloody canal through it and divided the Americas again!

It’s slightly unfair to simply blame the Americans. Back in time everyone recognised it would be a good idea to find a passage across the isthmus and link the Pacific and Atlantic oceans. The idea all started with the Spanish of course who just wanted to facilitate their robbing of South America.

Now we know the Spanish are not known for their building skills so they weren’t up to the task. They stuck to robbing South American gold and invented tiny plates of food and charged a fortune. Yes just more robbing.

Countless surveys said it couldn’t be done largely because of the mountains in the middle. Then came the Frenchies. ‘Ooh la la we can do it easy peasey’. Actually that’s a bit of a fib. What they actually said was ‘ooh la la on peut le faire facilement’. I like to be historically correct with my historical translation.

The Frenchies you see were flushed with the success of building the Suez canal and thought their engineering skills were the best in the world. You know what happened of course? They tried and failed to build a sea level canal through the mountains. Building through volcanic rock isn’t like building a canal through sand. Oh la la!

That leads us to the Americans who went for the second option. They dammed a main river, flooded the interior of the country and created two inland lakes. They then constructed locks on either side to raise and lower ships to the inland lakes. In effect, locks at each end raise and lower ships 85 metres up to a fresh water lake.

Okay it’s time for photos. Big ships in a lock.

Yes, I know hardly exciting photos but then again our visit to the Panama Canal was hardly exciting either. I feel you need to experience what we experienced – something in between mildly interesting to mildly boring.

Okay now for a photo to make you smile. Here’s me at the lock with my carer.

So that’s Panama. It’s now time to move on.

It’s time for Susan to suffer …….

Oh poor Susan!

Never Ever

It only seems yesterday that Susan stepped off the motorbike in Buenos Aires, smiled pleasantly at me and thought to herself ‘never ever will I do that again’.

That said, Susan has a track record of ‘never ever agains’ – she said it in St John’s after cycling across Canada; she said it in Sydney; she said it in San Diego.

So it’s really no surprise, 16 months later, we find her climbing onto the back of the motorbike thinking to herself ‘what the f*ck am I doing?’.

What’s the plan I hear you ask? What’s ‘never ever’ Susan signed up for? Well just hold on just a minute please. Let’s start this story at the beginning with an important update – I’ve got a new helmet!

I’m quite sure the fashionistas amongst you will appreciate I’m sporting the latest model.

Now I’m not posting a photo of Susan as she doesn’t have a new helmet to show you. Quite frankly, she’s not looked after her current one. It’s suffered a few dents and scrapes and until she learns to keep her head off the ground when I drop the bike then that’s just the way it has to stay.

I have also bought myself a BOom BOom Vest. Here’s a photo of myself modelling one.

Now I know what you’re thinking ‘new helmet heid’ is wearing a support bra!

Come on now. Be serious! Let’s not turn this motorcycle fashion show into a farce! This is a actually an important piece of safety kit.

BOom (the unexpected accident happens)

BOom the vest automatically inflates in milliseconds, helping protect chest, back and shoulders. Well that’s the theory.

Technically, it’s called an air safety vest but I’m helping you understand how it works. I’m a kind of nursery school communicator and I know you appreciate it. And yes of course ‘never ever’ Susan has BOom BOom vest even though she was ‘never ever’ getting back on that bloody bike!

So where’s ‘big helmet heid’ with his BOom BOom bra and ‘never ever’ Susan landed this time?

Well I will give you a clue – I’ve brought her to the most important canal in the world! You hear that? The most important canal in the world! Panama! I’ve only gone and delivered a sensational holiday location again!

So what’s the plan ‘big helmet heid’?

Well the plan is to motorcycle from here to up there ☝️. Yup ‘big helmet heid’ is going to make ‘never ever’ Susan suffer all the way to Anchorage in Alaska. Look nobody ‘never ever’ said I was a nice guy!

You should be able to look under the ”menu’ button item thing on the blog page and see an item thing with some maps of the route. I hope it works. I’ve haven’t quite skilled up enough on this blogging thing.

As if that’s not enough we’re going back down from Anchorage to Vancouver to fly home in mid July. In total we should travel 11,500 miles, roughly about the same distance as our South American trip.

So that’s the synopsis of our journey. I hope you’ve enjoyed this update on my new gear and yes I understand everyone wants to see a photo of ‘never ever’ Susan just to prove she’s actually here with me.

Well here she is from her best angle. Believe me I’m not kidding – you should just see the scraped paintwork at the back!

Happy now? Yes she’s actually here in Panama City. It just goes to prove that you should never ever say ‘never ever’. Isn’t that right Susan?

Buenos Aires – The End of the Beginning

Three days in Puerto Madryn to rest and recover before the last leg of our journey north to Buenos Aires.

Our first night off was great. Nice ceveceria for some craft beer and some dodgy food. We went for the langoustine option. Not so bad. With french fries. Again, not so bad. Then there was bright orange ‘plastic’ cheese over the top. Starting to struggle now. And a good splashing of heavily processed barbeque sauce all over. It certainly was a plateful of flavour and I would seriously argue that only a biker is strong enough and tough enough to eat such a plateful. We also shared a pizza and 5 pints. Total cost £12. That’s why you don’t complain in Argentina.

On the following days we went on two all day tours to see animals. As I’ve said before the best place for an animal is on my plate and the cuter and cuddlier the better. But Susan had other ideas and we all know who wears the biker trousers in our house.

So we found ourselves on a full-day tour of Peninsula Valdes – world renowned nature reserve. What a lot of overrated rubbish. For hours we bounced around in a mini bus on unpaved roads with other people. That’s the great thing about our motorbike – no ‘other people’.

Okay I hear you asking – how about a photo Clif? You must have seen something? Well we saw these guys – elephant seals.

Yup, you can’t tell they’re elephant seals from that distance. And it gets worse! The big buggers just lay around dozing pretending they were dead! I waited 20 minutes and nothing happened. Nobody appeared with a coloured ball for them to play or a hoop to jump through. They didn’t clap with their flippers for fish. Nothing. Next time I’m going to Seaworld to see real wildlife action!

Oh, we also saw sealions and the little armadillo was kind of cool but you really don’t need to see the video. We’ve all got better things to do with our lives than watch armadillos.

Then we went whale watching again. Yes, we’ve already watched whales in Peru but these were different whales. Well so they told me and it doesn’t really matter what I think. ‘Susan who wears the trousers’ said we were going. She loves whales and as they’re too big for my plate I may as well watch them.

It was late when we got back to the town and I managed a photo of the sunset from the speeding minibus.

Back at the apartment at 9pm and pick up next day at 7:30 am. Who says motorbike touring is hard work? Blinking animal watching is harder work for me!

Today, ‘Susan, who wears the trousers’ had decided we were off to see penguins – bloody little blighters.

On route we stopped to see the largest dinosaur statue in the world.

Now its a life scale model and it’s impressively huge. The skeleton was found locally near Trelew and is being prepared for exhibition.

Interesting story about the missing ‘E’ – it was apparently blown off and disappeared in the afternoon high winds two days previously. We can testify the winds were strong cause that’s about the same time we passed this statue on route to Puerto Madryn.

Eventually we reached the little blighters themselves. ‘Susan who wears the trousers’ was as happy as a llama.

These are Magellan little blighters and there were thousands of them scattered about the dunes. Oh you want a video as well? Well I’m reluctant to show the video as I know some will just think ‘oh that looks like Clif and a couple of pals walking home from the pub’. The aimless similarity is a bit too close for comfort.

After the little blighters we went for Welsh afternoon tea. You can tell its a Welsh afternoon tea because instead of scones and savoury sandwiches they give you buttered bread.

This little town, Gaimen, was established by the Welsh in the 19th century and the language is still taught in local schools. ‘dyna ti’.

We got back to the apartment and had sandwiches for dinner. More sandwiches you ask? Well it was a late return from the little blighter tour but we also had a source for the best french bread we’ve ever had from a bakery next to our apartment. Better than France you ask? Better than France is my reply. ‘C’est la vie’.

After our animal break in Puerto Madryn we hit the road towards Buenos Aires and the wind hit us. Yes, I’m still moaning about the wind.

Nevertheless, three overnight stops later and we were in reach of Buneos Aires and we nearly had a motorcycle companion on our last day.

At breakfast we met a great young guy with impeccable English with a strong American accent. He explained he was a marine based at a town we had recently passed through and he was motorcycling to Buenos Aires to meet his girlfriend. He was a remarkably well build young man even if I say so myself.

We were both surprised America had a base in Argentina. Oh no the guy explains – I’m an Argentine marine!

So there’s a hundred things I could say that could get me into trouble with an Argentine marine. Only the previous day the new Argentine president said he wanted Islas Malvinas back.

He suggested we motorcycle together but I politely declined. Yes, it would be helpful at one of the regular police checkpoints but do we really want an Argentine marine on your tail for 200 miles? Can’t think of a reason not to. Can’t think of a reason to accept.

So we took to our last motorcycle journey on our own. That’s the way we started.

Rather than feeling elation at the end of a long jouney or a feeling of triumph over challenges and adversity, the feeling is of sadness that it’s come to an end.

No more South America. No more Andes. No more back of beyond towns. No more desolate bars with strange beers. No more open roads. No more customs posts. No more meeting people from all over the world. No more Incas. No more bunk beds. No more different bed every night. No more wind. No more little blighters. No more desert. No more most challenging motorcycling. No more meeting fellow bikers on epic journeys. No more dodgy food. No more best steaks in the world. No more adventure.

Well at least for the time being……

It’s probably apt that I now write a quote from a great philosopher

‘Life’s an adventure, embrace the unknown. Let curiosity be your guide and discover the magic within’.

Mary Poppins

So we’re in Buenos Aires for a couple of weeks and it’s the most marvellous city. We finished our journey, as we always do, with a celebration beer. Here’s a selfie.

Until the next time. Next time you ask?

Yes, how about a motorcycle trip from Panama to Alaska? As another great philosopher said:

‘Dream big, for dreams are the seeds of tomorrow’s adventures’

Winnie the Pooh