Category: Central America

Where’s Wally?

We’re in Buffalo, Wyoming, at the blue dot.

5,389 miles done. More than that to go.

The green line marks our route from Panama City (star).

We’re in our eighth country with the remainder of USA, then Canada, USA, Canada, to go.

The star at the top left is Anchorage, our most northerly city.

The star near the middle is Vancouver, our final stop on the motorbike.

A long way done. A long way to go.

Lone Star State

Texas is bigger and better than anywhere else. Well that’s what Texans say – big ranches, big egos and big hats for their big heads. Actually, damn fine big hats – if only I could carry one on the bike!

It’s the second time we’ve been to Texas, having passed through on our tandem in 2018. I liked Texas then and I love Texas now. It’s not for everyone but then neither am I – just like Texas 🙂

Leaving the lovely San Antonio we made the short 80 mile journey to Austin and it’s magnificent state capitol building.

With a magnificent African American History Memorial in the grounds.

Sitting alongside other statues.

This is a monument to ‘Terry’s Texas Rangers’ who were a group of cavalrymen that fought on behalf of the Confederacy in the American Civil War.

It stands among many other Confederate memorials that lionise and honour Texas’s participation in the Civil War on behalf of the Confederacy, serving as a reminder of how strong Confederate memory maintains a hold on Texas.

Okay, that’s enough of Mr Morality, here’s some Austin Joy.

We sat on plastic reclining chairs and listened to Joy for 45 minutes. Yeah, I know it’s a long video for a blog but please just play, chill, listen and watch Austin life and the world walk on by.

Talking about Austin life walking by, how about new Austin life driving by?

That’s the self driving taxi behind Joy. After successful trials in other cities, they recently arrived in Austin. It’s a strange sight to see a car rolling along city roads with no driver. These taxis are being steadily introduced across American cities and will be in Europe soon.

When they’re at the front of a lane and the lights change to green they accelerate and beat every car away. Of course they’re soon overtaken when cars with drivers break the law and exceed the legal speed limit. Says something about drivers!

Here’s another Austin photo.

Oops sorry wrong one.

Two Susan’s you ask, what’s all that about?

Well, the first one was from when were here in 2018.

I could have given you a photo of myself ‘before and after’ but you would just say ‘oh he’s had a hard paper round the last few years’.

So we left fabulous Austin and moved to Fort Worth. Another great place – well it has to be it’s in Texas. We’re bigger and better than the rest of you! Oops, sorry getting carried away there. Sometimes I’ve got to remind myself I’m a 21st century meterosexual and not a 19th century Confederate sympathiser. Oh jeez there I slip into Mr Morality again. Sorry!

So what do you want to see when you go to Fort Worth? Well of course we want to see cattle and if we’re in Texas we want to see longhorns.

I’ve no idea why they call them longhorns – suppose it’s just Texas saying we’re longer then the rest of you. Well damn right we are!

These are real Texas Cowboys just like Mickey Mouse is real at Disneyworld.

Fort Worth is ‘cowtown’ and cowboys once herded cattle along the Chisholm Trail to factories in Fort Worth where they were ‘processed’ and loaded onto trains to feed America.

I’m going to move on from giving your further details of the millions of cattle ‘processed’ at the Stockyards in Fort Worth in case I turn you vegetarian. I wouldn’t want to have that on my conscience!

So let’s quickly change the subject from cows to sheep. Here’s a photo of sheep.

‘Oh nice old photo but what’s this to do with me not becoming a vegetarian’ you may well ask. Well nothing quite frankly.

I just introduced another animal ‘processing” story with a bit of subterfuge. And now you’ve seen a photo of sheep you’re hooked on my next story. I’m a cunning old meat eating evangelist.

Ah, but there’s one or two of you out there who will notice that all these sheep are not quite the same! Oh yes, the penny is dropping – one of the sheep is a bloody goat!

Yes, yes, unbelievably I’ve got a story about sheep and a bloody goat!

Fort Worth also ‘processed’ sheep and as sheep are herding animals the cowboys came up with a unique way to get them to move from the stockyards to the place where they were ‘processed’.

You would think they would use sheep dogs. No, they didn’t – they’re Texas cowboys, the biggest, the best and the cleverest. Instead they used a goat because sheep like to follow goats!

I know, I know, everytime you read this blog you learn something!

It appears only cowboys know this and our farmers in the UK have been training dugs to do the job for generations. If only they were as intelligent as us cowboys.

Now, there’s more cowboy ingenuity to this story and I will share it with you. We all know goats like to eat anything and so cowboys at the ‘processing’ place gave the goat chewing tobacco. The goat became addicted.

Every time the goat leads sheep to the ‘processing’ place he gets tobacco. So what does he do thereafter? He goes back to pick up more sheep. And so on.

The clever cowboys called the clever goat ‘Judas’.

Us cowboys don’t need highly trained collie dugs to herd sheep. We just need a few goats and some tobacco. Cowboy genius.

Now to show I’m a real Texan cowboy here’s one of my meals

Now let’s set the record straight – Susan’s mountain of coleslaw has come out disproportionately large in the photo.

There’s over a kilo of the most tender smoked brisket, ribs and chilli sausage you will never have had unless you’ve been to Texas. It’s BBQ food heaven.

Before I leave Fort Worth I’m going to put you off food altogether. My apologies.

We regularly stay at motels frequented by workmen – we like to stay with real people who have a job in the morning and are up at dawn. Just like us.

In such motels, breakfast can be pretty basic. In North America it’s always eggs and sausage stuff moulded into a shape. It’s quite efficient when the eggs and sausage patty are both round. Yeah yeah, square bread does grate against my OCD but sometimes you just need to relax. So relax and DON’T mention my square bread! Please! I’m struggling with it!

Susan has unfortunately gone over to the dark side.

She’s making her own waffles in the waffle machine and she’s so expert she gives tuition at the breakfast bar. It’s embarrassing.

And yes that’s a waffle in the shape of Texas with peanut butter, blueberries and eggs. Yes she does eat them together – enough to turn you into a carnivore. Disgusting!

Finally, a photo of me and a disgusting eater at a donut shop.

If I go to heaven then let it be like Texas.

Mehico City

We set off for the 82 miles to our Airbnb in Mehico City (CDMX). The bike was running nice and the auxiliary lights were now working.

The journey took nearly 4 hours to complete and was completely exhausting.

The first 40 miles took an hour and the rest of the time we edged along in traffic jams the like of which you won’t see in the UK.

For over an hour we were at walking pace as 10 lanes merged into 3. As the road went up an incline, the sight of what lay miles ahead of us unfolded and the experience really can’t be described. I can’t do it justice. It’s absolute chaos and mayhem.

We’re wet inside our bike gear from the heat and the exertion. Arms and fingers ache keeping the bike upright over an uneven road surface as we inch forward. The clutch is working hundreds, thousands of times. It’s torture.

Nearly four hours on a motorcycle in heavy traffic, without a break, is no easy task. But we keep on going because, as I’ve said before, this is what we choose. This is what we do.

We checked into our home from home in a lovely residential area in Mehico City.

Then, for the next three days, we toured and experienced this busy, chaotic, wonderful city.

Founded in 1325, it is the oldest city in the Americas. First known as Tenochtitlan, it was built on an island and extended over a lake by the Mexica empire. During the final stages of the Spanish conquest of the Aztec empire, Spanish forces razed the city to the ground and founded the colonial Mexico City on its ruins.

There is an extreme water shortage in Mexico City. Nearly 70% of the water consumed comes from the aquifer beneath the city and this draining of water tables is causing the city centre to sink.

It’s estimated it has dropped more than 9 metres in the last 100 years. Currently, it’s sinking up to 50 cm in some places whereas other places, built on volcanic rock don’t sink at all. This differential subsidence is destabilising buildings.

This beautiful cathedral is estimated to fall within the next 60 years unless something is done. Everyone thinks the government will step in and so something before it’s too late but this is Mehico and I wouldn’t put a bet on it. The country is littered with half finished projects.

Interestingly, this cathedral was built by the Spanish over a temple complex and, as the cathedral is sinking, the ruined foundations of the temple complex are rising up.

The whole central city is leaning, roads have dips and humps, nothing is straight and flat. The Leaning Tower of Pisa doesn’t have a look in.

Today CDMX is the fifth largest city in the world with over 21 million people. On the day we arrived into the city I’m absolutely certain they were all returning home on the same road as us.

The city has the second largest number of museums in the world (second only to London). Of course, Susan and I had to visit the Anthropology museum – we like to show we’re high brow, cultured bikers.

Here’s a photo of two cultured people at the museum of anthropology.

We followed our museum visp with a walk through the local parks in Condesa-Roma where we were staying. Lovely park and more statutes for us culture bikers to enjoy. Here’s a woman with big jugs.

I share culture like I share my knowledge of languages. It’s my gift to you.

We followed our walk with a cultural experience – we went for tacos.

Later that day I wanted to sample the bar culture – we went for nachos.

You see we’re not like ‘normal’ tourists – we like to immerse ourselves in culture.

Goodbye Mehico City. Until we meet again.

Spanner In The Works

After wa-Ha-ka and Puebla we headed towards Mehico City.

What’s that I hear you say? I’ve rushed passed Puebla without saying very much? Well there isn’t much I actually want to tell you.

Okay then, here’s a photo of a cathedral. It’s pretty impressive because when they first started building it they thought Puebla was going to be the capital of Mexico and so the cathedral had to be a suitable size and quality.

That’s enough about Puebla, let’s move on.

What do you mean you think I’m holding out on you? I’m a pretty straightforward guy and I would never hold out on you?

The only other Puebla story I have is technical and you would be bored.

Here’s another Puebla church at night.

Oh come on, let me move on from Puebla. Let’s talk about fun times in Mehico City.

Surely, you don’t really want another technical story about a motorcycle? Surely, you’ve had enough after the clutch saga?

Sigh! Okay, okay I hear you!

Let me tell you about a day that started pleasantly and went so far downhill it quickly became one of my most stressful days of the trip. I really didn’t want to talk about this!!

We were in a nice hotel in Puebla with a parking garage under the room.

What a nice arrangement and so I thought I would take advantage of this facility and try to get my auxillary lights working – they’ve been kaput since Josias half fixed the clutch.

Now this is another story where I pass on a little bit of education to you. Today’s learning point is ‘never give an idiot a spanner’.

On this occasion, an Idiot opened the battery compartment and noticed the battery had been installed the wrong way round.

I won’t get too technical as the Idiot would just confuse himself. However, to be brief, the red ‘button’ was wired to the negative terminal of the battery and it should be positive.

That’s when the Idiot got a little bit of knowledge from Mr Google and read that it could be damaging the battery, the bike electrics and a critical failure could be imminent.

What do you do? Nothing? Something?

The Idiot consulted with his ‘Sage Advisor’ who kind of agreed that something should be done.

At this point, the ‘Sage Advisor’, the only sensible control the Idiot had, was actually agreeing with him.

At that point, the situation was fu**ed!

And so the Idiot picked up a spanner.

A few minutes later the battery was installed the right way round. Everything looked good. Now switch on the power.

Nothing. Dead as a donkey.

The Idiot’s heart sank. His legs felt like jelly. Breathe Idiot. Breathe.

Tomorrow we’re booked out of this hotel and into an Airbnb in Mehico City. We need an early start for the traffic chaos. We can’t have a problem at 1230hrs, the day before we leave. We can’t.

We have!

Breathe.

Let’s change it back to what it was like before. It was working before. The Idiot shouldn’t have touched it.

Breathe.

The Idiot and the spanner set to work again.

It’s ready. Breathe. Now switch on the power.

Nothing. Dead as a donkey.

Legs wobbling, breathing stopped.

Press the power button again. Again! Again! AGAIN!!! AGAIN!!

Jeeeeeeeezo!

Take a walk. Breathe. Just breathe and think. Breathe.

A few minutes later the Idiot briefs the ‘Sage Advisor’. There’s no recriminations, there’s no rolling of the eyes like you’re doing just now. The ‘Sage Advisor’ was calm.

Only the Idiot was panicking.

Breathe Idiot. Breathe.

Now to give the Idiot his due he accepted he was already well past the limits of his ability. Oh yes, he could consult Mr Google and look for a solution, cry and wring his hands, contemplate solutions and fall into self recriminations or…….

…… the Idiot could get a grip and put a plan into action.

The Idiot needed an expert.

The Idiot became an example of perpetual motion. Unstoppable today.

Within 10 minutes he was in a taxi to a BMW motorcycle dealer.

Within 70 minutes, he was in Carlos’s truck with the motorcycle on the back.

Within 90 minutes the bike was in the BMW garage.

The service manager said they would look at it tomorrow.

Carlos, a billingual Mexican, helped with the interpretation and there was only going to be one outcome – the bike was wheeled into the workshop.

Perpetual motion. Unstoppable.

The mechanics looked over the bike and the cause of the problem was quickly found. Yes it’s what we thought all along – it was the Idiot’s fault!

Whilst the battery was in the wrong way round and the red ‘button’ was indeed negative when it should be positive, Josias had also changed around the wiring looms. Everything looked wrong but it worked right.

Idiot with a spanner changed all that and blew the main bike fuse.

Did the garage have a replacement 50 amp fuse? After all we’re in a garage full of motorcycles exactly the same model. Of course, they didn’t! It’s Mehico after all.

Idiot gives the mechanics a great laugh when he told them to take one from another bike.

Oh they laughed out loud. Idiot laughed. Then they realised Idiot was serious. They shuffled hesitantly to stand protectively in front of their spanners.

With one mechanic guarding the spanners , the other chap found a 60 amp fuse. Not the same but it would do. We had a solution.

The fuse was installed, the bike sprang to life and everything was going to be alright.

There was no charge for their work. Nice. BMW looking after travellers yet again.

For me, Carlos, was the real star of the day. An independent breakdown guy who was on hand within the hour to help. He now keeps in touch via WhatsApp. Muchas gracias Carlos.

Tomorrow we can ride for CDMX.

Unstoppable today.

Welcome To Mehico

That’s how we pronounce it.

Just giving you a little bit of language tuition at no cost. No need to thank me, I know you’re grateful when I share.

Our first stop in Mehico was Tapachula. We soon recognised there were security issues in the area because we were processed through more than 25 paramilitary checkpoints.

In this area, the UK Govt. advises against all but essential travel and the US Govt advises against travel due to risks of crime and kidnapping.

Our travel in this area could be considered ‘essential’ as we were obliged to ride up and down the ‘danger’ area to reach the alternative border for our bike import permit. Thanks Mehico!

At each checkpoint we’re slowed by ‘topes’ which are suspension killing speed bumps. The topes in Central America are monstrous and regularly scrape the protective guard on the bottom of the bike engine. They’re deadly and you go slow, very slow, for a tope.

They even have topes on dual carriageways with no highlighted markings. They’ look just like a normal road surface from a distance – try seeing them when travelling at 80kmph!

The security checkpoints are staffed by military guys with machine guns. Often there’s also a chap pointing a hefty mounted machine gun at us. It all feels very intimidating and not safe.

I appreciate it’s better to have security than not and they rarely stop us. If they do I think it’s usually out of curiosity and after producing our documents and a cursory search we’re on our way.

From Tepachula we did some long days on the bike. The roads are better in Mehico and we rolled along nicely.

The road from Tehuantepec towards Oaxca was a stunning motorcycle road. 170km of motorcycle heaven over mountains, climbing over 10,000 feet with 54 bridges and 12 tunnels. Hardly a straight in sight and an average speed of about 55mph if you’re not faint hearted.

The road was only fully opened earlier this year and it’s wonderful. Perhaps the best motorcycle road I’ve ever ridden and all credit to Susan for taking it all in her stride. She’s as awesome as the road.

We reached Oaxaca. Now that’s pronounced wa-HA-ka. Again I’m happy to pass on my knowledge of Spanish. When a friend gains from my knowledge it’s no loss.

wa-HA-ka is recognised as the food capital of Mehico. That nicely brings us to the point where I’ve said too much and it’s time for a photo.

Yes, I know you expected a photo of food but you shouldn’t expect the expected. It’s a photo of a wa-HA-ka street.

Okay, here’s something better. It’s me with a 950ml bottle of beer. Doesn’t get much better than that! The beer I’m talking about, the beer!

You want more? Here’s Susan with a tiny glass of beer.

Now that’s not so good! The beer I’m talking about, the tiny glass of beer!

What else can I show you?

How about a mural or two?

Yes, yes all very nice but I know what you’re really thinking? ‘Come on Clif it was Easter weekend when you were in wa-HA-ka and we want to see a guy with a cross’.

Okay here’s a guy in the ‘Silent Procession’. Susan loved it but I found the whole ‘silent’ thing a bit of a challenge.

Here’s some more silent people. Shhhh shhh!

And while we’re being religious on what was Easter weekend, how about if I throw in a 16th century Spanish Cathedral.

Oh I did mention food, didnt I?

Here’s lovely shin of beef in the famous mole poblano. Mole is a big deal in this part of the world. Some are reasonable, some are a bit too sweet for my liking. The mole poblano is fine.

Now I’m going to ask you a history question – who’s this guy?

Well of course, this is Pancho Villa. I’m sure you will have heard of him but let me add a little background.

Pancho is considered to be one of the most widely known Mehicans of all time throughout the world. If I told you who the other top famous Mehicans were there’s a good chance you wouldn’t have heard of any of them.

Okay, okay I will give you Carlos Santana but I’m certainly NOT going to allow you Salma Hayek!

Pancho is seen as a Robin Hood, bandit, killer and, since 1812, is the only foreigner to have actually invaded and attacked USA. He was a key figure in the Mehico Revolution 1910 – 1920.

The President, Porfirio Diaz, ruled as dictator between 1876 and 1911. His time in power ended decades of economic stagnation and, even today, Mexicans recognise his achievements for Mehico in terms of the economy, transport and infrastructure. However, as is usual with dictators, corruption and power got to his head and despite promising democracy he reneged.

Pancho Villa, a General with his own small army, aligned himself to the uprising against Porfirio and after a stramash or two, a new president was installed. He didn’t last long and what followed thereafter was years of armed conflict and changing heads of state.

Now the first casualty of war is truth and Pancho reportedly signed an exclusive contract with a leading American newsreel company in 1914. Hollywood, not far from the border where most of the stramashes were occurring, came to Mehico.

Newsreels were a coming force and cinemas were growing rapidly in popularity. There were obvious advantages in controlling the way in which these newsreels portrayed the revolution and Pancho himself. In this way, Hollywood helped finance Pancho, his army and the revolution.

Pancho even starred in a 1914 silent movie titled ‘The Life of General Villa’ shot on location during the civil war, incorporating authentic footage from real battles. This movie has since been lost but the making of this movie was dramatised in the movie titled ‘And Starring Pancho Villa as Himself’ (2003) with Antonio Banderas.

Pancho was a brutal character and although he semi retired from politics to his ranch, his enemies eventually came calling and in 1923 he was ambushed in his car. Seven gunmen fired 40 dumdum bullets (usually used on elephants) into his car hitting Pancho seven times. He died at the age of 45.

Now that’s Pancho and the Mehican revolution. It took many years for him to be regarded as a ‘hero’ of the revolution but today, on balance, he’s better regarded than he once was. As they say ‘history is written by the victors’ or I suppose we could say, in this case, perhaps history was written by Hollywood.

So let’s now fast forward. Zoom zoom. We moved on from wa-HA-ka to Puebla and did you know the first shots of the revolution were fired in Puebla? Of course you didn’t and, as I always say, ‘a good friend teaches you something’.

Here’s the damage.

This was the home of the Seridan family and it’s now known as the Museum of the Revolution. Aquiles Seridan was a ‘revolutionary’ who opposed Porfirio Diaz and his house was stormed by the police and he was killed. The Mehican Revolution had begun.

Let’s finish with something more cheerful. It’s party time in Puebla and my friends are dancing.

Viva Mehico!

Bordering Chaos

Antigua provided us with the rest we desperately needed and allowed us to recharge our old batteries.

That said, despite the hardships, heartaches and frustrations we have experienced in our journey to date we wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

It’s not a journey for those who want to travel sanitised and pampered and, as Anthony Bourdain said ‘do we really want to travel in hermetically sealed popemobiles’ (thanks to the excellent ‘Trawlercat Chronicles’ blog for referencing this quote).

We’re all different. This is who we are and this is what we do. These are the best times of our lives.

Leaving Antigua, we journeyed 100 miles over mountain roads to Quetzaltenango. It took us over four hours.

There’s nothing special about this city, it was merely a stop point before the border with Mexico.

The evening rush hour gave us an indication of what the morning traffic would be like.

That’s the queue out of town and I would estimate it’s at least two hours before you reach a point where you’re not in a jam.

You can’t lane split with our motorcycle in these lines of traffic because there’s not enough room and, like this photo shows, there’s inevitably a guy pushing his old mother in a wheelchair begging.

So, with that in mind, we left our hotel at 0545hrs to successfully beat the morning traffic and get through the border in reasonable time.

We stopped for coffee and pancakes after a couple of hours.

At the border we sailed through chaos and checked out of Guatemala. At the immigration desk I have to kneel on the ground to look through the tiny opening in the black glass where you hand over the passports. After a brief conversation we’re stamped out of Guatemala. Nice.

We cross a bridge and we’re into Mexico. This is going well. Nice.

Susan gets off the bike and I ride through a garage spraying insecticide. It certainly tastes like it will be effective.

We speak to Mexican immigration and are told we can’t enter Mexico at this border because the bank is closed.

In Mexico, they have the ‘Banjercito’, a military bank that processes import permits for vehicles and fleeces the traveller with tariffs. Once again I’ve written a special letter to Mr Trump to make sure he’s aware of the hassle I’m having with tariffs.

So the Banjercito is closed and we can’t get an import permit.

Let me now summarise our experience. It’s a painful log of events but I feel I need to share my pain rather than bottle it up. Sorry.

The immigration lady imforms us we need to re-enter Guatemala and travel an hour south to another border at Hidalgo where they have a ‘Banjercito’.

She says Guatemala will let us back through without going through the processing.

We’re searched by the paramilitary guard as we leave Mexico.

We return across the bridge into Guatemala.

Inevitably, they wont let us in without a re- entry stamp in our passports so I again kneel on the ground at the immigration counter and we are officially back in Guatemala.

I tried to ignore Guatemala customs and ‘persuade’ them to let us through the barrier but they’re having none of it. They wont let the bike back into Guatemala.

They send us back to Mexico.

To do that we need to exit Guatemala. I kneel at Guatemala immigration and ask for a second exit stamp to match our two entry stamps. We’re told one exit stamp is enough.

We return across the bridge into Mexico. Thankfully, I don’t have to ingest more insecticide.

Mexico immigration lady says she’s surprised Guatemala won’t let us back though. I smile and keep calm.

It’s now explained we can actually get a temporary seven day visa at this counter and enter Mexico to travel to the other border.

I’m boiling inside and it’s got nothing to do with the heat. I smile and keep calm.

We fill in their forms and get our seven day visa.

We get on the bike, leave immigration and are stopped by the guys with guns at the security barrier. Where’s the import permit for the bike they ask?

We explain and after some persuasion they let us through.

We ride southwards to Hidalgo and into town.

We’ve got no idea where to go. Google doesn’t know where to go. The locals don’t know where to go. The police officer doesn’t know where to go.

I know where to go. By this time we’re quite exhausted and dehydrated and I go for drinks and ice cream. We sit on the kerb to recover and attract the attention of a local. Nice guy and he actually knows where to go. Good bit of luck. We were just about to return 20 minutes up the road to the freight terminal.

We ride to the huge customs building which is one minute away. Thankfully it’s very quiet – that’s obviously because nobody knows where it is!

We enter, get our passports stamped to extend our 7 day visa to a 30 day visa. Their tourist tariff is $95.

We ask the Banjercito for temporary import permit for the bike. We have some major issues with who actually owns the bike but after 20 minutes we establish its mine.

They now ask me for photocopies of my passport, driving licence, V5 and the form the immigration counter (10 metres away) gave us.

This is when I lose my pleasant, cool, calm and collected manner. F*ck the keeping calm Clif, f*ck the keeping calm!

Susan will want me to edit the swearing out. She will tell me that ‘people’ don’t like the swearing in my story. But I’ve got to convey my frustration. So hopefully you’re reading a good lot of swearing and I’ve managed to get it passed ‘Censor Susan’.

I do carry photocopies but the recent border crossings throughout Central America have exhausted my supply. I’m told to take my documents to a copy shop in the local neighbourhood.

I point out to a ‘banjo’ man, there’s a photocopy machine beside him. He says he can’t. I express my feelings. He said I have to go and get my own photocopies.

I sit down beside ‘censor Susan’ and take a long drink of water. Susan is calm and tells me I’m not going to achieve anything by shouting at the the ‘banjo’ people.

I know she’s right. You see she’s not just my censor when I’m writing the blog, she’s a real live censor that moderates my language and behaviour. Everyone should have one.

I do listen but I have one last shout – just like a dog having one last bark when it’s told to stop barking

Then I start walking the 15 minutes to the copy shop.

I get my photocopies. The guys in the shop are nice enough. They take my photocopy tariff and I leave. I’m writing to Mr Trump about that shop too! They’re obviously part of the tarrif scheme!

It’s a longer walk back to the customs hall because the entry gate is further away than the exit gate. Yes I do try to re-enter the exit gate but as we all know, the rules are the rules.

I hand the ‘banjo’ guy the photocopies and he photocopies them on his machine. He hands me back my new photocopies.

I remain calm. ‘Censor Susan’ is sitting behind me and I can feel her staring at me with one of those looks.

I pay $460 dollars to get the bike into Mexico. I believe I get most of this back.

We leave the customs hall and get on the bike.

We wait in a queue of cars and are stopped by guys with guns who want us to produce the papers we’ve just been issued.

We leave 10 minutes later.

We’re officially in Mexico.

We arrive at our hotel an hour later. Exhausted. If you think that was our day it wasn’t – I haven’t told you half of what happened but I’ve already used up too much of your patience.

C’est la vie.

We will fondly reminisce about this border crossing for the rest of our lives. This is who we are.

Viva Mexico.

Antigua R&R

1,430 miles done. Approximately 10,000 to go.

6th country done. 3 countries to go.

Let’s start with a holiday snap. Here’s us having a beer on a rooftop bar in front of Volcan de Agua. I like to cater for my volcanologist friends.

Here’s some of my colourful friends in Antigua.

As you can see I’m quite a popular person in Antigua.

I kid you not, I went to the town square and shouted ‘who wants to come with me on my motorbike to Alaska?’ and when I turned around this is what I saw:

Yup, you’ve said it before I said it – Susan had better play her cards right if that’s the reserves waiting in the wing!

Now let’s move on from my friends and talk about Antigua.

Founded in 1543 by the Spanish Conquistadors it was once the capital of Guatemala and one of the greatest cities of the Spanish empire.

The city sits on an active tectonic zone and has been repeatedly devastated by earthquakes and volcanic eruptions. The evidence of these times remains.

It’s a quaint colourful place retaining much of its Spanish colonial character.

The star attraction is 3,768m Volcan Dr Fuego, one of the world’s most active. For the last 20 years it has been constantly erupting, shooting incandescent lava bombs and clouds of ash every 30 minutes.

I took time off from sipping my beer on my roof top bar with my colourful friends to take a photo of Fuego just for you.

That guy is sparking away as I relax.

Through all this volcanic and earthquake drama one thing endures – Starbucks!

Oh stop rolling your eyes – you should know by now if I’m going to show you a photo of Starbucks it’s going to be better than any photo of Starbucks you have.

This is reckoned to be the best looking Starbucks in the world! That’s another point on on the board for me! It’s just a pity the coffee is still like pond water.

Now I’ve got something special for you – yes the treats just keep on coming in this post. Here’s a colourful bus driven by one of my colourful Antiguan friends. Toot toot.

Please don’t get jealous of all my new Antiguan friends – I still care about you.

What’s the food like? Well it’s marvellous. Here’s my good friend Chef Mario Godinez at Barriga Llena and Susan’s prawn dish.

I had chicken and chips and it was the best damn deep fried chicken I’ve had since New Orleans.

Then I had the most unusual beer of my life! Oh yes, that’s made you listen. Well actually, it’s a beer cocktail.

I accept it looks like a can of average lager and a glass of muddy water. But have you ever heard of a piscositas?

It’s a can of beer topped with salt, worcestershire sauce, lime and a hot chile/onion salsa. Variations on this beer cocktail even have shrimps on the tin.

All I can say is it’s an acquired taste and I haven’t acquired that taste yet.

Regardless, don’t tell me you’ve had a more unusual beer cocktail than this! – chalk up another point to me!

I’m now going to finish with another photo of an old friend.

Yes, it’s Volcan de Agua again.

Explanation? Well, let me tell you this is the second time we’ve been to Antigua. Last time, 20 years ago we were young hippies on a backpacking trip.

Has Antigua changed in this time? You bet it has. It was once a wonderful backwater of colonial splendor. Today, like almost any place in the world, it’s blighted by too many tourists.

It’s still a great place to visit and Guatemala is a really lovely country. However, if you really want to see a country outwith the tourist hotspots then you need to travel by motorbike.

No, I’m sorry you can’t come with me – I’ve got a queue of girls in party dresses ahead of you!