Trip Report
Stage 5 - Central America
20 April - 21 June, 2008
* Pictures from this part of the trip can be found here.
* Route maps of the journey can be found here.
Total distance cycled: 8440 km (1995 km in Central America)
Countries crossed: 5 (El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Panamá)
Days on the road: 205
Days cycling total: 99
Average daily riding distance in this portion: 110.8 km
Maximum speed: 74 km/h (Peten, Guatemala)
Maximum altitude: 5,636 meters (Citlatepetl, Mexico)
Flat tires to date: 17
Worst day: Watching my twin sister leave : (
-----
Entering the El Salvador border, I had a vague idea that for the next three countries, I would be trodding upon countries that had all very recently seen bloody and violent civil wars. Learning about the political strife in these countries through brief conversational glimpses, I was left entirely humbled by the intense poverty and deep social divides that are very apparent everywhere.
The natural beauty of Central America, however, has no comparison to anywhere on earth. Set along a narrowing peninsula between the Yucatan in Mexico all the way to Colombia and encompassing the countries of El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and Panamá, these countries are stacked like pancakes atop one another with dirty border towns, revolutionary histories, and breathtaking tropical scenery forming the syrup that makes this place unforgettable.
On my first day in El Salvador, I parted ways with my cycling companion and good friend Damián López; he had to pursue the social work aspect of his journey in various Aldeas Infantiles sites, thus making for a divergent schedule than mine. And as for me, since my sister had booked a flight to meet in in San José on April 25, just two weeks away, I had a good amount of distance to cover in relatively little time so had to continue along at a faster-than-usual pace.
The intense tropical heat once again reappeared in the Pacific lowlands, and would not disappear for the rest of this whole section. Temperatures soared to over 100 degrees each day after 8am, and on a few days, reached as high as 120 degrees. I thus adjusted my riding strategy to wake up pre-dawn each day and to start pedalling by 5am. A long afternoon siesta between 9 am and 3pm or so at a local plaza or cool stream made for a perfect way to kill the torturous mid-day hours, and the last few hours before sunset always made for excellent cycling.
Throughout most of the coastal road along El Salvador, Honduras, and Nicaragua, most of the homes were made of black plastic bags stitched together, cardboard boxes, and haphazard pieces of wood and palms occasionally providing structure. Stores were always protected by huge, imposing metal bars to prevent robberies, and their stock of supplies was meager at best. In sharp contrast to all this, the elite resided in large gated communities with armed private guards and beachfront views. All of the people I made contact with in El Salvador and Honduras were at the bottom end of the social strata, since I started camping again and did my best to avoid big cities and hotels. They were all very warm and welcomed me with smiles and greetings. I was humbled by their stories and they were all very interested in my journey (and some were perhaps more interested in my 'fancy' touring bike!). Fortunately, after I said farewell to Damián near the Guatemalan border, shouts of ´gringo! gringo!´also diminished rapidly, and I was often mistaken for being some form of Latino.
In Choluteca, Honduras, as I was checking my email during a roadside stop, a well-dressed man approached me and we started talking about my journey. He turned out to be a journalist and invited me to conduct a television interview on National Television! Even in my sweat-drenched clothes and long-unshowered appearance, I promptly agreed and had a great time talking about my trip and rambling about climate change and anthropology in spanish.
The roads throughout El Salvador and Honduras were excellent, with butter-smooth asphalt and nice wide shoulders because of the large amount of foreign aid coming in. In addition, there were bridges and tunnels constructed with the aid of the Japanese, American, and Taiwanese governments that was a sharp contrast from Guatemala, where the road would simply go up every hill and all the way down to the valley in every river! When I entered Nicaragua, the main Panamerican highway deteriorated considerably to a dirt road, and didn´t improve for another 18 kilometers. That day, as I had set a goal of reaching the historic city León before dark, I got caught in the mid-day heat and for the better part of the day was cycling as if in a dream with strange shapes and characters greeting me on the side of the road. The looming presence of the volcanos along the countryside contributed to the surreal feeling of the landscape. When I saw an ice-cream man on a bicycle toting an oversized cooler in the middle of the 120-degree heat, I thought I had finally gone crazy. To this day, I don´t know if he was real or not, but I sure remember how good that ice-cream tasted and how it gave me renewed hope of reaching my destination for the day!
And what to say of León? It is a magnificent colonial city with a bustling intellectual presence. It is also the birthplace of Ruben Darió, perhaps one of the most famous Latin American poets. As I had no idea where to go, I made myself comfortable the shady plaza with my beloved Bucephalus parked nearby. In just a few minutes, a young man introduced himself as Francisco Caceres, and we embarked on a long discussion about Nicaraguan politics and history. Some of his friends entered the scene and engaged in the conversation, and pretty soon, it was a beautiful image of the vibrancy that this former capital of Nicaragua fostered.
The next stop was Granada, the pride of Nicaragua, and a close contender to León for its colonial grace and traditional antiquity. It is also the oldest city in Central America, and the site of many pirate raids from hungry English Buccaneers like Sir Francis Drake and Captain Henry Morgan. It is easy to see why: during the 16th and 17th Century, Granada was the seat of the Spanish gold, its wealth and prosperity apparent in the beautiful colonial streets and bustling port along the Lago de Nicaragua. This huge freshwater lake, which is connected to the Pacific via the Río San Carlos is entirely navigable and only complicated by strong rapids and currents in the river. Remnants of the Spanish defense against these pirates can still be seen along the cannon-lined port.
My last two days in Nicaragua cycling were marathon 120km plus days to reach the Costa Rican border as my frolicking around with pirate history and Nicaraguan revolutionary stories had cost me much time and my sister had already landed in San José. Thus, as soon as I crossed into Costa Rica in La Cruz, I packed my bicycle for the first time on the whole trip in a bus and sped off to the capital (after my sister left, I would later bus back to the same location where I left off and continue cycling).
It was an emotional experience reuniting with Karla, my twin sister. For the past 23 years, we had almost always been very close to each other in proximity. When we met up, it was like old times again - babbling away in Nepali, eating the delicious Nepali and Filipino snacks she had brought for me, and planning our adventures together for the next few weeks. We were fortunate enough to couchsurf with Rachel Loughery, a local schoolteacher and new-old-friend. In the cosmopolitan ambience of the capital of Costa Rica, we enjoyed all the amenities of the first world and shared the good company of Rachel´s many friends in the big city.
Our first stop together was the Caribbean Coast. We spent a blissful week vacationing in Cahuita, Puerto Viejo, Manzanillo, and Bocas del Toro enjoying the boundless sunshine, the picture perfect beaches, snorkelling, and of course, all of it was accompanied by never-ending reggae music. Then we made our way to the mountains in Monteverde, where thanks to Jessica, our second couchsurfing host in Costa Rica, we nestled ourselves in a cozy mountain cabina overlooking the cloudforest, replete with toucans and capuchins scurrying around. The enormous biodiversity and biodensity of the Monteverde Cloudforest Reserve was breathtaking. My sister even claims to have seen the Resplendent Quetzal, a rare sight indeed, of a bird that many Pre-Colombian cultures considered very highly of. It is also a symbol of freedom, as the Quetzal cannot survive in captivity.
Costa Rica is a country that stands in deep contrast to the rest of its neighbors. Its economy is prosperous (the highest GDP in Central America), its natural resources well managed (the highest number of national parks in all of C. America), and the people take pride in being known as a country of peace.
'We are a country with more teachers than soldiers, ... and a country that turns military headquarters into schools,' boasted President Jimenez Oreamuno in 1922, and indeed, his prophecy later surpassed itself when Costa Rica became the first country in the world to abolish its army in 1948. 'Ticas' as Costa Ricans fondly call themselves, pride themselves in having a longstanding tradition of political stability and democracy, much unlike most of the bloody civil wars throughout the rest of Latin American. 
However, what all this means is that tourists - and especially American tourists - flood the country in droves, thus making everything extremely over-priced. Most of the artesan goods are mass-produced and the beaches, especially, are teeming with all manner of surfers, stoners, birders, and rastas. After having had enough of this, I convinced my sister to hop on a local bus to experience the magic of Nicaragua, officially my favorite country of this section. We went back to Granada and I enjoyed meandering about the colonial streets and checking out the cathedrals with Karla, whose background in art history and religious iconography was like having a personal tour guide. We hopped on a boat across t
he Lago de Nicaragua to spend a few days in hiking, drinking, and not doing much else on Isla de Ometepe.
Then followed a harrowing 12 hour boat ride in the lower deck to get back to Costa Rica (the upper deck was twice as expensive, which of course, all the 'foreign backpackers' took). Everyone was trying to get some sleep through the course of the night, and Karla suffered considerably more than me since I had had enough of the intense heat and bodies piling up on the lower deck; while no one was looking, I snuck out to the open deck above just next to the high mast, where I enjoyed perfect solitude for the whole night, with nothing but boundless views of the open water for 360 degrees and a blanket of stars above.
After more than three weeks together, it was time for my sister to head home. It was a bittersweet farewell, and I spent the next few days in an unelevated mood, sighing a lot and looking fondly at our pictures. The solution to keeping my spirits up, of course, was to get back on the bicycle and continue on, but just as I was preparing to leave, I was robbed by a group of kids for $130 in cash, along with all of my credit cards and identification (see this post for more details). I was able to cancel my cards, but the cash was gone forever, and that meant that I had to wait for my new bank card.
Fortunately, my hosts in San José, Rachel and Dennis, helped me out tremendously in getting me back on my feet. They opened up their homes unconditionally, and we enjoyed many fond moments together in the big city playing music, going to bars, watching movies, taking roadtrips, and talking world history as I waited for my cards to turn up. When it did arrive and I was ready to leave, they surprised me with a wonderful going-away party with all the new friends I had come to know in the city. It was a very touching experience.
As I had promised myself, I bussed my way back to the spot near the Nicaraguan border where I had left off and continued cycling southwards from there. On my first day cycling after over a month of non-cycling, I realized how I´d lost much of the fitness I had acquired throughout my trip. But perhaps it might have also been the 10 kilos of additional gear I was toting around after a healthy resupply from Karla (which included a guitar, winter clothing, spare tires, and a mountaineering backpack for the Andes coming up).
The first few days cycling and camping along the Northern Coast near Puntarenas was a difficult experience because the rainy season had hit in full force and my gear was in a perpetual state of wetness. When I set up my tent in the evenings, a swarm of mosquitos would engulf me and I would spend the rest of the night looking like a chicken pox patient.
As I pedalled into the beach-town of Jacó, I noticed two backpackers toting around a pair of devil sticks and poi (for fire-dancing) and when they turned around, was pleasantly surprised to cross paths with my friends Denise and Claudia yet again (recall, random meetings since Southern Mexico)! So we continued together along the road south; them bussing and hitching, and I cycling.
In Uvita, we were lucky enough to be invited to a beautiful finca, or a farm, by Carolina and Gabi, two wonderful girls who had built their home and tilled their land entirely by themselves. Needless to say, I postponed my trip southwards for a few more days and enjoyed many rich conversations with them, preparing home-cooked meals, and visiting the local waterfalls and beaches.
Crossing the border into Panamá gifted me with wonderfully long stretches of road with very little traffic. Frantically searching for a campsite my second night in the country, I encountered an indigenous community of the Ngäbe people in the town of Tolé, who provided me hospitality for the night. Excited to be in their company, I stayed up late into the night talking to the elders of the village and playing football with the little kids. When the chief´s wife started joking about pairing me up with her young daughter, I laughed nervously and found my way to bed with only my bicycle within arms reach.
A few days of frantic, rain-drenched riding later, I reached the Bridge of the Americas, an imposing construction over the Panama Canal that provided access to Panama City. It was both, a harrowing and an emotional experience crossing it. The other side signaled the end of the road for me in North America, and I would have to somehow negotiate my way across to Colombia.
Between Panamá and Colombia lies a section of primary rainforests and swamplands known as the Darién Gap. This 160 km section is the only place along the length of the Americas between Alaska and Argentina that is not connected by road. It is one of the most biodiverse ecosystems in the world, and hosts a number of indigenous tribes that live out of contact with the outside world. However, the region is also wildly dangerous, as drug-runners, paramilitary forces, and armed guerrillas battle for supremacy. While an overland crossing has been made a handful of times, most adventurers consider such a journey into the Darién Gap a one-way trip.
I have no death-wish, so when I reached Panamá, I considered two options. One was to take a sailboat across the Caribbean Sea to Cartagena, Colombia, and the other one was to fly to the same destination. I had my heart set on the first option, but after realizing that the sailing trip would cost twice as much as the flight, I was convinced that it was wiser to fly and save money for the road ahead instead of a multi-day sailing trip.
After spending a few days in Panamá City checking out the impressive Panamá Canal and the historic old-town, I was ready to move on to Colombia. I dished out $239 on a plane ticket, spent hours cleaning up and packing my bike, and went through great pains with the airport administration, but 3 short and anxiety ridden hours later in Cartagena, Colombia, my beloved Bucephalus was once again reassembled and ready to take on the next chapter of the journey: continent of South America.
- Luis: for your wonderful stories and cycling with me through the intense traffic in San Miguel, El Salvador.
- Doña Lilian: for gifting me with ice-cold water and bananas when I almost passed out by the side of the road in the intense heat. 'El camino te sirve!'
- Victor Argañal: for the television interview with Channel 15 in Choluteca, Honduras.
- Jorge: for riding with me all the way to the border in Honduras and for helping me avoid the greedy money-changers.
- Francisco Caceres: for the enlightening conversation we shared on Nicaraguan politics in the plaza in León.
- Miguel Angel Mantilla Contrera: for your generous hospitality in Nagarote, Nicaragua.
- Jimmy, Mundo, and Augusto: for the primer on Nicaraguan beers and for helping me find a place to sleep for the night!
- Kathrin and Phillipe: for the nice moments and bike stories shared in Rivas! Best on your cycling journey and hope to see you somewhere along the road again.
- Eddie and Joaquin: for letting me sleep in the back of a semi-truck during my first night in Costa Rica.
- Joe Gouldby: for your classic Couchsurfing attitude and wonderful sardonic humor in San José.
- Nikki Adelaide: for all the good times we shared from football games to hot springs in Costa Rica.
- Josie and Greiven: for your seemingly boundless energy and for all the inspiring stories about South America.
- Hannah and Fabio: for all the amazing football games!!!!!
- Lilly and Christine: just for making everything that much more fun in every gathering!
- Dennis Ross: for all the ridiculously fun moments jamm´n, beetl´n, and loung´n in San José.
- Rachel Loughery: Ah Raquelita... you were a true blessing on my trip. Thanks for helping me get back on my feet after the robbery and for your unsurpassable kindness and friendship. Also, thanks for always being able to drink more than me and falling asleep after me!
- Pamela Young: for your beautiful spirit and the wonderful gifts you showered on me to aid me on my quest. What could have been a low point on the trip turned out to be one of the highest for me, and thanks for all of your good vibes. Namaste!
- Laia Obiols Bragulat: for your company throughout Nicaragua and all the amazing stories you have!
- Marik and Helen: fellow cyclists understand what its like - thanks for the water bottle cage!
- Serena, Michiel, and Joris: for your wonderful travel companionship throughout C. America.
- Reyna Latino: for the postcards in Granada and that warm unforgettable farewell hug.
- Silvio: for stories of the Nicaraguan Revolution and for your inspiring knowledge on our trip to Volcan Maderas.
- Ana y Alberto: for the excitement that only comes with meeting other touring cyclists!
- Justin and Jess: for the good times Wii´n, the magical kazoo, and all the good vibes shared at Dennis´place.
- Nic and Anna: for the company, music, and drinks shared in San José.
- Kate Cruse and Monica Brockmyre: the dancing, the music, and the drinking were top-notch! Kate, esp. thanks for your stories and for the toe-stumbling salsa!
- Pablo Gutiérrez Martínez: for inviting a hungry cyclist to lunch with your family!
- Carolina y Gaby: for the infinite buena onda that seems to permeate your spirit and your space. Uvita was by far my favorite destination in Costa Rica.
- Aref Hasan Isa: for the roadside conversation in Panamá.
- Wakan Sadhana: for helping me get my bearings straight in the big bad Ciudad Panamá.
- Roman Sainz: for your unconditional hospitality and help in Panamá City, and for helping me negotiate the tricky crossing to Colombia! Most of all, thanks for your amazing friendship. Bien cuidao, jefe!
- All the Bomberos of Central America: for the safe refuge and warm company your provided throughout my travels.
- Denise Ellensohn: for your irreplacable friendship along the road and all the unforgettable moments we shared together!
- All of my friends who raised enough money to gift me a beautiful 'Baby' travel guitar, and who sent me letters of support and other goodies when my sister Karla came to visit me in Costa Rica!
No comments:
Post a Comment