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)

Mexico City to Belize

This is a tough job, I'm sat typing this on a small island off the coast of Belize listening to the sound of the waves breaking on the reef about 200 yards off shore......but that's getting ahead of myself so back to the blog.
When we left Mexico City we headed for Tuxtla Guttierez by way of Oaxaca, someone had recommended that we visit the Sumidero Canyon just outside Tuxtla and it was also on the way to our next ruin stop at Palenque. The ride from Mexico City was nothing special and although Oaxaca is another beautiful Colonial city for us it was simply a transit stop and somewhere to bed down for the night, Tuxtla on the other hand was a shit tip! it might have had something to do with the fact that try as we might we could not find the centre of the city and as such had a hell of a job finding accommodation. We ended up breaking the first rule of riding the world, never ride at night, by the time we had done our second lap of the outskirts it was already dark. The roads were something to behold, potholes that you could lose a wheel in and roadworks just where you didn't need them meant that we eventually gave up and booked in to a City Express motel paying more than we would have liked. The next day we rode the short distance to Chiapa de Corzo and secured the services of a boat to take us through the canyon.

"Your vessel awaits Sir".

The canyon is accessed by boat from the head of the river that eventually empties into a dam at the end of the canyon. The canyon is spectacular and contains a variety of wildlife some of which are unique to this area, the first thing you notice are the black vultures which inhabit the canyon in their thousands.

Patience my arse, I'm gonna kill something!

Another unique bird....

The  entry into the canyon.

The canyon was considerably deeper before the dam was built and the river was impassable to even the most skilled boatmen, even with the water at it's current level the cliffs on either side rise to a height of over 2500 feet. As you travel into the canyon the sides become steeper and any wildlife live either on top of the cliffs or in the water, like this fellow below.

Why the long face?

For an extra 50 pesos you get to swim in the river if you want, but funnily enough the guide wants the money before you get in the water! Our guide, Miguel or Michael as he liked to be called spoke as much English as we spoke Spanish so we made the best of a bad job and pretended to understand the running commentary as we cruised along. The water flows very slowly through the canyon and the surface is littered with decent sized logs and tree trunks that have been washed downstream, this makes for some interesting maneuvers by Michael as he avoids holing the boat and turning us into crocodile bait.

I reckon the Grand Canyon was no bigger than this but the Americans like to be bigger than everyone else so they dug theirs out a bit.

This formation is caused by moss growing on the cliff face under a waterfall, they call it the Christmas tree.

And here's what it looks like if your daft enough to get underneath it.

The journey through the canyon offset the disappointment of staying one more night in the shit tip, and we only had a short run the next day to San Cristobal de Las Casas so had the luxury of a lie in.

The Spanish conquistadors established a settlement at San Cristobal as early as 1528 and it was also one of the four cities taken by the Zapatista Army of National Liberation in it's uprising in 1994. There is still evidence of support for the movement in Zapatista merchandise for sale in the local souvenir shops.

Overlooking San Cristobal. from the steps of San Cristobal Church.

The city is located in the highlands of the Chiapas region and around one million Maya inhabit the area, they are the descendants of the original indigenous people that settled this land thousands of years before. They still maintain their own beliefs and customs and Spanish is the second language in this part of the world (so now we're really buggered!) We took a look round the city and visited the local craft market but unfortunately we don't have any room on the bike for souvenirs.

A local procession with the old Mayan tradition of making your backside look as big as a house!

San Cristobal Cathedral.

Quite a large area of the city has been pedestrianized.

Our digs for the night, the Hotel Catedral.

Santa Domingo Church.

As part of our original route we intended to ride round the Yucatan peninsular and see the Mayan ruins at Chitchenitza and Tulum so from San Cristobal the road took us North East towards Palenque and another archeological gem hidden in the jungle. The quickest route was via Ocosingo, at one time one of the most dangerous roads in Mexico. During the Zapatista uprising in the early 90's travelers would be held up and robbed at gunpoint to fund the  movement's activities, now however the road has been paved and there is a noticeable Police presence. You still get the feeling that there is an anti establishment attitude and most road signs are riddled with bullet holes, still anything to save an hours traveling!

We passed through the region easily and even managed a stop to take in the falls at Agua Azul. The weather as usual was stinking hot and any chance to get out of the bike gear is grabbed eagerly, we avoided taking the plunge but the temptation was certainly there.

On the way to the falls we were stopped by the local Zapatista supporters who had a makeshift roadblock set up in order to charge us 20 pesos to use the road leading to the falls, they did however give us an official looking ticket which seemed to legitimize the robbery process.

More falls.

Even more falls.

This lizard can actually run across the surface of the water......Jesus!

We rode into Palenque and found a hotel in the centre of the town with secure parking, up to now we have not had any problems with security and BOB is not the kind of bike that can be dismantled for parts easily. We have only seen a handful of BMW bikes in Mexico and all seem to be owned by travelers but that said I would rather keep him out of reach of sticky fingers where possible.

Unlike the Aztec ruins at Teotihuacan the Mayan ruins at Palenque are hidden inn the middle of the jungle, they are well maintained and if you get there early enough you can photograph the site before it's covered in tourists (just like us!)

Ruins and tourist!

The excavation and restoration is ongoing and the site covers a huge area some of which is still covered by jungle.

The classic view from the top of the Temple of the Cross.

In the foreground is an early Mayan implement for cutting grass.

Bloody tourists!

If these petroglyphs are anything to go by they were an ugly bunch.

The Mayan carvings appear more finely detailed than the Aztec equivalent.

The next day was a grueling ride up the Gulf of Mexico coastline, we had originally planned to stop overnight in Campeche but the closer we got to our destination the more we decided to push on and overnight in Merida. This would mean we had an extra night on the Caribbean side of the peninsular later in the week, we hit a rainstorm on the way up but the hard part was staying awake through the miles of flat boring landscape. Merida is nothing to write home about....so I won't bother, just say that highlight for me was being accosted by two Mexican Jehovah Witnesses' as I was packing up the bike in the morning, why me Lord?

We have recently been in touch with Joe and Lynn who so graciously looked after us in Fort Morgan and are now on their own journey to South America, we have been following their progress South and have arranged to meet them in Chetumal on the Belize border which now gives us some focus for the next few days.
From Merida it's only an hour or so to the ruins at Chichen itza so when we got there it was early enough to find a hotel and get into the pool, when we were booking in Sue had seen a couple of riders on BMW's go past and when I went back to reception later they were booking in. It turned out that Oisin (from  Ireland) and Helmar (from LA) are also heading to South America and are filming the whole process with the intention of making a Adventure style DVD much along the same lines as the Long Way Round series with Ewan McGregor and Charlie Boorman.

The Wrong Way Long Way Down boys.

Oisin and I sort of recognised each other from our communications on the Horizons Unlimited website and we spent some time chatting about the trip so far and what lay ahead, Oisin did the North to South trip last year on his own so his knowledge of countries farther South will prove invaluable to us as first timers. O and H (as they will be known from now on to save ink) decided to head to the ruins whilst Sue and I relaxed at the hotel as we had decided to visit the site later that evening to see the spectacular light show, it turned out that the light show was a flop and I reckon I could have done better with a flashlight and some coloured sweet wrappers! so the photos of Chichen itza are courtesy of O's camera work.

At last BOB had some real bikes for company.

Even at night with the dodgy lighting the ruins are impressive, the commentary that accompanied the show was  in Spanish so that hindered the experience even more but here's what it looks like in the daytime.

We had a great time with O and H and the chance to spend some time with people on a similar wavelength is always worthwhile, they are on a fairly tight schedule as they plan to ride the whole world in around twelve months so we knew the likelihood of us meeting again was fairly slim. We had breakfast together and said our farewells and they headed off to Tulum on the Caribbean coast and we left for Cancun,

Same pose, different location.

For some stupid reason I had thought we would visit Cancun to see what all the fuss was about...mistake number 125! Cancun is just another bustling tourist resort with the usual chain of high rise hotels and tatty bars and souvenir shops, admittedly its location on the caribbean is picturesque but the old town is grubby and the hotels still think they can charge top dollar simply because of the location "let's head for Tulum and see what that's like"

These buffalo had the right idea (either that or they were really dumb and had got stuck!)

The Mayan ruins at Tulum were built on the edge of sea and by all accounts are worth a visit so by the time we got there it was late afternoon and we set about the process of finding digs. We tried a couple of hotels in the town but neither had internet access and as we were searching for the third we came to an intersection and  looking down the street saw O carrying a bag full of beer back to his hotel....result!

We checked in and chatted by the pool before going to dinner at one of the beach front restaurants, it was only 5 minutes down the road so we decided to leave the helmets at the hotel and go naked so to speak. Mistake number 126!

Helmar at the restaurant parking lot.

Top grub!

Oisin taking photos instead of eating...bad move.

The Paella was excellent but on the way back we got stopped by the local cops who explained you can't ride without helmets and would we like to contribute to their pension fund! all four of us set about the "ignorant stupid tourist so sorry" routine and it must have been convincing because they eventually got fed up, wagged their fingers with a warning and we promised to ride straight back to our hotel. In the morning we arrived at the ruins early to get the best photos and spent an hour or so looking round, unlike some of the larger sites there is no museum or visitor centre so when the tour bus crowds started getting in shot we made a hasty retreat.

OK folks do we build a temple here or in the sweltering jungle?

The Tulum ruins are the third most visited archeological ruins in Mexico, they are not large in size but are close enough to the tourist areas in the North to attract the crowds.

Local resident

The ruins were strategically placed with the sea cliffs on one side and a fortified wall protecting the inland boundary around the rest of the city.

The high priest's beach front apartment.

Tourists in shot.....time to leave.

It was now time to head down the coast to Chetumal to meet up with Joe and Lynn, so for the second time we said goodbye to O and H and headed for the Belize border. On the way down we met a group of bikers from Honduras who were riding up to Playa del Carmen for a few days rest and relaxation.

Notice the safe parking procedure.

 We quizzed them over the current political climate in Honduras, what the roads were like and if they had any problems at the border. They assured us that everything was OK but seeing as they were Honduran citizens I suppose things would seem normal to them, we will have to cross Honduras at some point on our trip but all the reports coming from travelers recently tell of the usual bureaucratic nightmares at the borders and the general consensus is to go through the country via El Salvador and keep the time in Honduras to a minimum.

On the road down we passed loads of these tarantulas crossing the road, some made it like this one others didn't.

We arrived in Chetumal before Joe and Lynn and checked out the hotel that Joe had recommended, everything seemed fine except there was no secure parking but we arranged to park the bikes over the road at the sister hotel. twenty minutes later Joe and Lynn arrived and we unloaded the bikes and spent the next few hours catching up with each others journey.

See if we're still laughing at the Mexico-Belize border in the morning.

Which brings us back to my opening sentence, I'm still listening to the waves and we're still in one piece.........more to follow.