Okay, okay I made the last ‘progress by beer’ far too easy. That’s Susan’s fault – I wanted something more cryptic but she obviously didn’t have confidence in your intellectual capabilities. I’m sorry it had to be said. Don’t be annoyed at me. I had confidence in you.
So this time I’ve got a photo of a character from a famous movie shot in our location.
Wait, wait, wait! Just wait!
It’s not going to be that easy. This character has been carved out of a tree trunk with a chainsaw.
This town is famous for its chainsaw art.
So who is this guy?
Yup, of course it’s him and yes that’s the movie and that’s where we are!
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!
‘Oh no big helmet heid, I really hope you’re not going to bang on about that clutch again. Surely Jesus fixed it and you’re now on the road to salvation?’
Listen, we’re in this together and when I have an issue it’s a shared issue. So, unfortunately, until this bloody clutch is fixed, it’s our problem. My sincerest apologies.
Let’s temporarily change the subject and start with some positivity – after 14 days in Nicaragua, we’re crossing the border into Honduras! That’s 10 days later than our schedule.
Leaving Nicaragua wasn’t easy. They added a tariff for the bike to leave. To even enter the Nicaraguan Immigration hall we had to pay $1 each. In Central America it’s pay, pay, pay to cross the borders. So I’ve written to Trump to tell him not to miss the Nicaraguan’s.
Getting into Honduras wasn’t easy. Susan sat on the floor eating Ritz crackers, sharing the space with stray dogs. I sweated buckets dealing with customs, using Mr Google Translate to obtain the temporary import permit. I smiled and waited and smiled and waited.
Here’s a photo of the Honduras immigration and customs building.
I was drained by the time we left the immigration and customs. Susan remarked, I kid you not, ‘that wasn’t so bad’. Oh, I just had to laugh. She did say she felt a bit uncomfortable as the stray dogs eyed her sitting on the floor with biscuits. What a princess!
Now where were we? – oh, yes we’re in Honduras!
Do you know we had to travel to London to get a visa to enter Honduras and they charged us for it. So I’ve written to Trump and told him not to miss Honduras either!
We stayed one night in Honduras and moved onto El Salvador. Another border crossing. Not so bad this time. Easy exit and the customs entry was fine because a nice guy helped us through the process. Overall, it was fine and no extortion. I’ve written to Trump to tell him hands off the El Salvadorans.
We headed for San Miguel, Honduras, and as we approached the city over the mountains, the clutch slipped and slipped. Nowhere near as bad as before and we could still make progress. But it wasn’t great.
I was a wreck by the time we got to our hotel as I was fearful of it giving out altogether. A break down on the mountain roads of El Salvador isn’t something I could cope with. Well, you know what I mean. I would have coped because I’ve got to cope. I just didn’t want to be tested. Not this day. Please.
We had one option the following day – we would go to the BMW motorcycle garage in San Salvador. Hopefully we’re not delayed too many days as our schedule is suffering.
That night we shared a pizza hut. Do you want to see a photo of Pizza Hut? What do you mean, ‘no thanks Clif, just move on with the story’.
Have you ever seen a pizza hut under an active volcano?
I thought not. Chalk up another point to me.
The following morning we were rolling by 0715.
It was only a 100 miles or so and we made good progress as I massaged the clutch over the mountains. After the fainting melodrama, I constantly monitor the princess on the back and we stopped at a gas station after an hour.
Into San Salvador was a bit of struggle for the bike and we headed straight to the BMW garage. The last few miles were over very steep city back roads and the clutch got worse as the temperature rose. The traffic was chaos like you wouldn’t believe.
We reached BMW. Wonderful. Happy. RELAX!
The lady in reception spoke good English and immediately give us bottled water. We stripped off our outer jackets and bathed in the air conditioning. Made it! We bloody well made it! RELAX!
Everything is going to be alright.
I explained the problem to the lady in reception. She smiled. She looked helpful. ‘Yes, well I’m sure the workshop can look at it’. Wonderful. RELAX.
Everything is going to be alright.
‘Its just that you’re at the showroom and the workshop is a few miles away’
‘whimper, whimper, whimper’ – that’s me crumbling.
We get our gear back on and staff come out the showroom to stop the traffic so we can leave the BMW garage. The traffic is that bad. Thanks guys.
We follow the sat nav through the city and after 20 minutes reach the workshop. I’m full of trepidation as to what happens next.
I ride right up the service ramp and park where I probably shouldn’t park. I know this but I’m setting out my position – this bike is going nowhere until you sort it. So there!
I’m immediately greated by Fernando. ‘How can we help you?’. What a nice smiling man.
I explain the issue as he ushers us into the reception and he immediately summons for a technician to look at the bike.
It’s jackets off, bottled water and bathing in the air con. RELAX.
Everything is going to be alright.
Here’s a happy cool princess.
As the technician takes the bike for a spin, I’m given a tour of the complex by Fernando, who it transpires is the BMW Service Manager. What a guy!
We also meet Armando and Paula. Originally from Portugal but now living in Texas, they are travelling with two other riders en route to Panama.
Armando is a bit of a mechanic and he offered to strip the bike in the car park and fix the clutch for free. He thought there was air in the clutch fluid.
Of course I politely declined. I was not bouncing this bike from granny’s garage to a BMW car park to be repaired. This time the bike was going treated properly in the care of the professionals.
One day I want my bike to have as much travel character as Armando’s. That’s how an adventure bike should look.
Paula said she liked the aluminium cases on their bike as they’re good protection when she falls off. With Armando listening, Paula rolled her eyes when I asked how often she fell off. Ah, she has so much in common with Susan!
The technician confirms the clutch is needing attention and there’s oil leaking from seal. Here’s the bike in the service area.
The technician confirms Josias had indeed fitted the discos correctly. Nevertheless, the technician refitted the discos, retightened the springs and bolts to make sure everything was going to be alright.
Further examination found my hand guard was bent following my Humpty Dumpty fall and was now, ever so slightly, touching the clutch lever. Nice spot professional technician because lots of bikers have had a pull on my clutch over the last few weeks and nobody spotted that. Suffice to say I hadn’t either!
New oil and a bit of work on the clutch fluid hydraulics and everything was going to be okay. We were sorted. Hear that – the clutch saga is well and truly sorted. Well at least until I rip the arse out of this one!
We were given a BMW courtesy driver to take us and our panniers to our hotel as the bike had to rest for a few hours for the oil seal to cure. I was then picked up at 5pm by another BMW courtesy driver and taken back to the garage. Susan declined to go with me. Tonight there’s no Susan in this team.
Unfortunately, the few miles in San Salvador’s rush hour took us nearly two hours to get to garage. I texted Fernando to say I didn’t want the garage to be closed as I needed the bike that night. He replied ‘don’t worry’. RELAX.
Everything is going to be alright.
We arrived at a BMW garage in total darkness. My bike was sitting at the front.
As I alighted from the courtesy car, all the garage lights came on and Fernando stepped out the reception area. He had waited 90 minutes after closing time for me. What a guy!
‘There was so something in the air that night’
The garage lights were bright, Fernando
‘They were shining there for you and me’
‘For liberty, Fernando’
Yes liberty – we’re finally free to continue our journey without fretting about the clutch. Sweet.
The following morning we were up early and on the road to Guatemala. The clutch was great.
Okay, I’m happy – if you don’t count the add on movies we’ve matched Rocky 5.
So where were we?
Oh yes, the melodramatic Susan has just fainted on a motorcycle moving at 55mph on the Nicaraguan highway.
Be calm. Just be calm whilst I tell you what a hero I was – nobody falls off my bike unless I’m falling off myself!
So when I felt Susan’s head keep hitting my back I immediately knew what was happening. I shouted
‘Susan, Susan!’
I reach around and hold her with my left arm. I’m now riding one handed. No problem if you’re going straight. Big problem if you want to pull in to a very narrow hard shoulder with wasteland next to it.
I had to get her to sit up.
‘Susan’ I shout again.
Finally, I hear ‘whaaaaaaaaaaat’
‘You’ve fainted’
‘whaaaaaaaaaat’
Then, ‘have I?’
‘Sit up’, ‘SIT UP’ ‘YOU NEED TO SIT UP!’
I feel her sitting up, I let her go and steer the bike into the side. We’re right on the edge of the paved road and only just off the main carraigeway. Heavy vehicles thunder passed.
I try to put the side stand down. I can’t. The camber on the road is too high and the bike stand is too close to the ground. Susan has to get off.
‘You have to get OFF!’
‘mmm mmumble’
‘I can’t’
‘GET OFF THE BIKE!’
She has to get off the bike so I can pull the stand down and get off the bike myself. We’re stuck until she does.
Slowly, very slowly she gets off the bike and I get the stand down.
We’re in the middle of nowhere.
I get Susan out of her jacket, hat and BOom BOom vest, give her water and I lie her down in the leaves with my gloves as her pillow.
Twenty minutes later she sits up.
I know you want a photo so paparazzi Clif steps up. I’m sorry I’m only pandering to my audience and you’re my audience. It’s essentially your fault I take photos of Susan in her times of desperation. You should be ashamed of your behaviour!
Now I took two photos. The first one she looked awful. So I asked her to smile. Here is the second photo.
After 30 minutes she tries to get back on the bike.
She has two failed attempts – each time the jacket and helmet go on she falters, feels sick and lies down.
I strap the BOom BOom jacket to the bike. I strap her jacket to the bike. I pack her leather gloves.
Less safe on the bike with less protection. More safe on the bike being cooler.
At this point Susan decides to take my initiative to the next level – she wants her pants off!
Jeezo Susan!
Let me explain. Underneath Susan’s goretex double lined trousers she wears motorcycle lycra short pants with thick padding on the hips. Just in case we fall to the ground.
She decides she wants them off!
Jeezoooo Susan!
Now I’m a caring guy but this is not the place to take your trousers off. Anything could be lying under that straw and leaf stuff.
But she wants them off and who am I to say no to an irrational hot headed woman?
So I kneel and take off her boots.
I kneel and pull down her trousers. No easy task when they’re double lined and she’s behaving like she’s a rag doll.
Then I pull down the padded shorts!
Now I know exactly what you’re thinking – you’re thinking ‘oh paparazzi Clif I wish you hadn’t been so busy saving Susan that you had time to take a photo of this scene!
Well I was too bloody busy saving Susan and you should be bloody ashamed of yourself for thinking I would stop my rescue to take a photo for your salacious pleasure!
It’s just as well then I have a 360 degree camera on the bike that never sleeps!!!
Here’s Susan relaxing.
Here’s Susan with her personal man servant.
By the time I got Susan dressed again I was done.
As you can see I’m still wearing BOom BOom and everything else. I was so exhausted I had to sit. I felt this situation was getting away from us.
There we were sitting amongst the leaves and the snakes and the 40c. She’s done. I’m done saving her from being completely done.
So what’s next? Well the only thing you can do is keep on going.
So I get up and on the fifth attempt I got Susan on the bike minus jacket and BOom BOom and the rest.
My focus and concentration come back once I’m on the bike. It’s probably the thought of a beer at the end of the day that kicks in and pushes me on.
A few miles later we reach Leon, straight into the market square and chaos. People, kids, donkeys, market stalls, scooters, trucks all over the place. Chaos.
I get Susan off and walking. I just can’t afford to risk dropping her off the bike. Not today.
I ride through chaos and multiple near misses. At least if the bike goes down it’s only me.
We clear the market square and Susan gets back on the bike and we complete the last half mile to the hotel. I half abandon the bike on the road and get Susan into reception.
When I get into reception I could see the concern the staff have when they’re looking at Susan. They’ve given her a glass of water. They don’t realise that when you give Susan water in these situations you almost shout at her to drink it.
She sips. ‘thats enough’. I shout. She drinks a bit more. I don’t shout loudly but I’m quite clear – ‘drink the bl**dy water!’
Oh, I get many a glower every single day! But there’s an understanding – she knows I’m right!
I bring in the first pannier. Each one is heavy unit. Today I’m struggling. I’ve got tightness across my chest. I think it stems from my bruised ribs when I fell off and impersonated ‘humpty dumpty’. It might be a heart attack. Well, I am a bit of a drama queen and it’s about time it was all about me again.
After five minutes I go back out to the street and get the next pannier. I then sit and rest until the tightness recedes. I go and get the third pannier. I sit and rest until the tightness recedes.
We check in.
Susan’s looking a bit better and she takes the key and the helmets to the room. ‘Come back and get the jackets, I will get the rest’.
I wait with the receptionist. I wait some more.
Susan doesn’t come back.
After 15 minutes waiting I smile and say to the receptionist ‘I don’t think she’s coming back to help?’. ‘No sir, I really don’t think so’.
It’s okay, it’s okay, she was fine. Susan just decided it was much nicer to lie on a bed than help me.
That’s fair.
One at a time I get the panniers to the upstairs room. It had to be upstairs. The maid helped me. I needed help from a maid. That’s when you know things are tough! The maid couldn’t actually lift the pannier and so she just dragged it along the tiled floor.
When I eventually get to the room with the luggage, Susan’s having a nice sleep. It amazes me how she can relax when she’s worried about how I’m coping.
I have a cold shower and get dressed. Remember the bike is half abandoned on the road outside.
The hotel has an adjacent garage and, as usual in this part of the world, negotiating the entrance on a large bike isn’t easy. There’s a narrow door, a very tight left turn and a five inch kerb. You need precision and speed. These are skills that I’m struggling to bring to bear at this time of this day.
I’m manoeuvring into a position where I can give it laldy when a guy on a small motorbike with girl pillion speeds up the road, doesn’t slow and impatiently sounds his horn. They all kind of do that bullying driving and riding in Nicaragua. It’s their way.
I lit up Leon with my ‘colourful’ shouting. The rider got such a fright he nearly lost control. Sorry impatient motorcyclist but you just picked on the wrong guy at absolutely the wrong time.
So is that the end of Nightmare in Nicaragua?
Well yes it is, I’m not going to go for 6 to beat Rocky.
After a wee sleep, Susan was feeling better. She refused a cold shower that would do her the world of good and I didn’t have the energy to moan.
We walked into town and sat at the rooftop bar. Is there a better way to end a story than a photo of a bottle of beer?
Biking The Americas Act IV 