2 Borders in four days.

So what was all the fuss about.......
The border crossing from Mexico to Belize was a breeze, we changed our remaining Mexico Pesos into Belize Dollars at a little shop just before the border, there were no money changers hanging about and we parked the bikes next to the immigration office and left Sue and Lynn to look after them.

"Don't take your eyes of the bikes".

First stop for Joe and I was the Aduana (Customs) to check the bikes out of Mexico we handed in the Temporary Vehicle Import Permits (TVIP) and had them cancelled to show we had left the country with the same bikes and the vehicle identification number was photographed to make sure it was the same bike, that done we crossed no man's land to the Belize customs to import the bikes. On the way we were accosted by some bloke trying to make a quick buck by helping us get through the border quicker but we were having none of it, we did however pick up the statutory third party insurance and went on our way to Belize. The guy at the Belize border desk was very helpful and suggested that rather than go through the hassle of processing a TVIP for Belize that we just get a stamp in the passports showing we were in transit for less than seven days and they would then cancel the stamp when we left to go into Guatamala. We were made to go back down the road to quarantine to get the bikes sprayed with what looked like water and pay for the privilege! Next was immigration where mine and Sue's passports were stamped (It has not been necessary so far for Sue to be present at immigration, I have just handed over both passports and explained I was travelling with my wife.) All told it took less than an hour, there were no queues and the only problem we had was when Sue got a bollocking for taking photographs, after she deleted the photos in front of the Border official we were good to go.

Last look at Mexico.

To be fair the whole process was made easier by the fact that the Border Officials spoke English, Belize has a mixture of three languages English, Spanish and Creole and even the Mexican Officials know enough English to process the stream of Belize citizens crossing the border. So that was the first border crossing out of the way and it sort of reassured us for the upcoming crossing from Belize into Guatemala in a few days time.
The first thing you notice on entering Belize is the standard of living, very few structures look as though they would stand up in a strong wind and anything constructed of concrete block is either a factory, a prison, a hotel or a government building.

There's a house in there somewhere.

Once inside Belize the GPS would only function on the base map loaded on the internal memory, the base map shows only main roads and quite often the road on the screen would disappear altogether only to appear again some distance down the road. As we were travelling on the main highways this didn't cause a problem until we hit the towns or cities, and even then the direction to the city centre is usually well signposted. Before we left Chetumel we had decided to spend a couple of days on one of the islands on the coral reef off the coast of Belize, there is a frequent water taxi service to the islands so all we had to do was find the ferry terminal and arrange somewhere to leave the bikes for a couple of days. We almost made it to the waterfront but me being me decided to go the wrong way, but in my defence I realised straight away and stopped to ask for directions from some kids on push bikes. One of them was just about to enlighten us on our intended route when you could see the light bulb turn on in his head "follow me" says he "I'll take you" and within a flash he takes off like stink down the road causing us to throw a sharp U-turn to keep up with him.

You can't see it in this photo but there's smoke coming off his rear tyre!

We arrived at the water taxi terminal in double fast time and paid him for his services and no sooner had we handed over a couple of dollars than the Rasta touts descended on us offering everything from dodgy trinkets to dodgy tobacco.

Thats a two dollar smile.

When they spied us parting with cash and the big bikes with 'bling' we were elevated to the level of family!, some guy latched onto me claiming I was his "white brudda from a different mudda" what I should have said was something to the effect of "yeah an I'm no white sucker you scrounging ........." anyway I thought better of it and anyhow by this time more had arrived and we had the makings of a Reggae band swarming round the bikes. One of the 'Marley Boys' was informing us that there was really no safe parking except some factory back outside the city, when we were rescued by Andy the terminal security guard. "No problem, you can park the bike on the quayside for a couple of days and it will be safe and secure". You bet it would be safe and secure, the parking area was a strip of concrete about 6 feet wide at the back of the terminal and could only be accessed by a pair of double doors and a ramp, if anyone wanted to pinch the bike they better have a bloody big boat with a hoist and winch. All we had to do was ride the bike up the ramp off the street, through the terminal building and down a ramp onto the quayside! Easy peasy lemon squeezy!

The red arrow points to the doors and the ramp onto the quayside.

Getting up the ramp off the street was relatively easy, clear the crowds, turn left at the souvenir counter past the Pharmacy and through the rows of chairs in the waiting room.

Let's go off roading!

What's up lady, never seen a bike before?

Now the fun part... how to ride down the ramp and make a left turn without ending up in the drink.

 What do you mean, does your bike float?

I thought better than to try and ride down unassisted so I had two helpers hold the front of the bike by the crash bars. As soon as the front wheel dropped onto the ramp I was unable to put my feet down and hoped they would keep me vertical......and dry!
The process of Joe and I manoeuvering  the bikes onto the quayside was fairly ugly and fortunately went unrecorded, however, we ended up with both bikes neatly positioned as you can see.

Job well done.

BOB 'chillin' out with Joe's Suzuki behind (in the dress).

Once the bikes were stashed away we had lunch at Jenny's kitchen over the road, of all the stuff on the menu the armadillo sounded best and actually tasted good (apart from the odd bit of shell) It tasted infinitely better than the Rocky Mountain oysters the Fort Morgan posse convinced me to eat when we stayed with Joe and Lynn in Colorado. For the record Rocky Mountain oysters are actually buffalo or bull's testicles thinly sliced or pounded flat and deep fried, I have eaten worse things in my time but it wasn't the taste that upset me it's the thought of someone slicing through a testicle with a sharp instrument or pounding it flat with a blunt instrument that gives you an uncomfortable feeling only blokes can appreciate!

What the hell are turkey parts?

The water taxi ride was more like a power boat race, three 225 horsepower outboards fixed to the flat end and a driver who looked like he favoured a bit of the 'whacky baccy'.

Fasten your seatbelts and scream if you want to go faster.

He obviously knew what he was doing or we were incredibly lucky because forty minutes later we were on Caye Caulker our little piece of paradise nestled in the worlds second largest barrier reef. The island is one of the largest in the archipelago but small enough to walk around in a couple of hours, there are virtually no cars and the main mode of transport is bicycle or golf buggy.

Sue and Lynn share a taxi.

The life on the island is slooooooooow which is just as well because the majority of the men just seem to hang around doing nothing day and night, some of them look like they wouldn't work in a iron lung! It must be that Caribbean culture thing, don't worry...be happy. Maybe we caught them in between shifts but for the two days we were there I swear some of them never moved!

Rush hour in Caye Caulker.

For two days we tried to fit in with locals and did sod all, any chance we get to recharge the batteries is taken eagerly and it's impossible to convince you all at home in your overcoats and thermal underwear that travelling to all these exotic locations is tiring....so I won't bother,  I'll just post some more photos of our two days on the island.

Ok, where were we......Oh yes you were sat there with the central heating on and the butter on the kitchen worktop cos it's so cold it won't melt and us.... well we're just melting! honestly, the water was so warm I had to sit in the sun to cool off. Anyway enough of the bullshit, let's get back to the real world.

Time to go.........

The stay on the island came to end all too soon and we found ourselves back in Belize at the water taxi terminal faced with the problem of getting the bikes off the quayside. First of all we had to turn them round to face the ramp which wasn't as easy as you think (on reflection next time I'll take the panniers off) ,then to stop me from rolling back in to the Caribbean if  I didn't make it up the ramp we attached a couple of tie down straps to the crash bars.

What was plan 'B' again?

Joe and helper stood at the top of the ramp holding the reins so to speak, I fired up BOB,  pointed him at the doorway and gunned it up the ramp, making sure I got far enough inside the terminal before running the guys over.

Ta-Daaa!    

Joe being slightly shorter in the leg was at a disadvantage, but with a bit of a struggle he made it inside.

OK Joe see this guy here, well don't run over him because he'll be holding the bike!

That's not a smile on Joe's face.

Now here's a tip if you have to do this yourself. Make sure the helper doesn't wrap the tie down strap round his hand or wrist cos if the bike rolls back into the water he's going with it and the headlines in the papers the next day would read 'Black guy found in ten feet of water weighed down with a 1000cc motorcycle!
We knew that in order to get out of Belize, into Guatemala and reach our hotel early we would have to keep moving so we headed straight out of town and the road to the border.

Breakfast stop.

The run to the border was good, with the odd river crossing and detour thrown in for good measure. (we managed to lose an hour finding our way out of San Ignacio).

We arrived at the border around one o clock and everything went smoothly, on the Belize side the money changers and tramitadores (helpers) were on us before we had chance to turn off the ignition.We got our remaining Belize Dollars changed into Guatemalan Quetzales and decided to refuse the offer of paid help and tackle the paperwork ourselves. As with getting in, getting out of Belize was made easier by the fact that the officials spoke English and within 45 minutes we were at the Guatemalan border.

Sue in no man's land.

The Guatemalan border was one of the first potentially problematic crossings but surprisingly everybody was really helpful and polite they tolerated our abysmal attempts to speak Spanish and went out of there way to get us through in the minimum amount of time. The same process applies with regard to paperwork, stamp yourself and the bike out of Belize and stamp you and the bike into Guatemala, all in all it took less than 90 minutes to get through both borders.

Goodbye Belize, Hello Guatemala (roughly translated as land of potholes)