Two borders in two days........

     

We crossed into Guatemala from San Christobal. We had read several blogs about what to expect for visas and car permits. 

We had to stop in a town 4km before the border to cancel our Mexican visas and car permit. Upon arrival they told us we could keep our car permit as we were back before the expiry date, but they did cancel our tourist visas. The whole process was quick and stress free, a nice change for us. 

We travelled to La Mesilla, Guatemala, where we expected to have to pay some small bribes and be constantly on guard. As it turns out, this was not the case at all! We paid no bribes and the process took all of 30 minutes. We are not sure how, but Rosa's tyres were fumigated for free!

With our new Guatemalan car permit added to the windscreen, we were off!

Topes are still topes even if they are called 'tumulos' or 'vibradores'!  Despite the cuter names, they are hardly relaxing!

                    

We drove all day to get to Lago de Atitlan our planned pitstop. A volcanic lake in the  Guatemalan highlands. On route, we went through a town called Huehuetenango (try saying that with a straight face!) 

Again! An hour or so off our destination and going through a town called San Christobal, Guatemala, mirroring the troubles we had in San Christobal, Mexico, the road to Lago de Atitlan was blocked!  We drove around and around with other traffic to no avail, we had to head south to Quetzaltenango.  It was getting dark and we had decided to go to a recommended campsite nestled underneath a nearby volcano. Upon discovering it was actually a garbage strewn parking lot, we decided to drive back into town stopping by an 'auto hotel' that we had seen on our way out. This is where it got a bit strange. 

We thought auto hotels were cheap alternatives to renting a room for young couples or lovers who don't have privacy at home. It seems we were a bit naive. We drove into one and saw the garage openings (when once you are parked, they close the roller door or curtain to hide your car) with different prices and themes to choose from. The prices were too cheap for a night but too expensive for an hour......... then it dawned on us! Some one was in the room! You were paying by the hour, for some company!  Deciding that three would be a crowd, we reversed out off the hotel as quick as possible and went to the regular hotel down the road. Only to discover this guy was a pimp and was confused about giving a price for the whole night. Again, we set off, looking for a real hotel. Two hours of driving at night in the one way, overcrowded streets, we had lost all hope, when Skye noticed a man opening a sliding gate. We drove in and asked for a room for the night, we were in luck! A good price, a good room and a safe parking spot for Rosa. This was the first time we didn't sleep in Rosa on the trip. 

This shower had electrical wires taped to the shower head. We presume it was to heat an element in the shower head to give hot water but all it did was smell of burning plastic!

      

The next day, we crossed to El Salvador at La Hachadura. There were about 5 kilometers of trucks waiting to be processed. We decided we were different to this process, so we drove with hazard lights (the international sign saying 'I know I'm doing the wrong thing, just ignore me') on the wrong side of the road, for 5km dodging oncoming traffic, to the check point. 

Guatemala was as easy to leave as it was to get in the day before. We got a temporary exit on our car permit and a few photocopies later, we were on to El Salvador. 

El Slavador customs took a bit longer and they inspected our car, but everyone was really friendly. We were chuffed to see some tuk-tuks taking people across the boarder. The drivers were not required to give passports or ID. 

        

        

After processing, just as we set off, a guy hailed us down, and we were asked to pay an unexpected 'road toll' of 5$usd (USD is the defacto currency in El Salvador). Sol asked if it was bullshit, the guy assured us it was real. We even got an official looking receipt. 

30 minutes in, we were waived down by police officers at a checkpoint. We provided our paperwork for Rosa and our passports (including our $5 road charge invoice) and we underwent our first invasive search of the vehicle. They checked through all our bags, even Sol's dirty clothes (poor guys) and they declared us 'limpia' (clean) and let us go. 

As we drove off, paranoia set in, maybe they had set a trap, planting drugs in our stuff so as later to extort money from us at a checkpoint further down the road. Just out of sight of the police we jumped out of the car and went through our stuff with a fine tooth comb! We seemed to be safe. 

With the daylight fast disappearing we hot footed it to the beach, El Zonte, where we are now. Our hotel is called 'las olas permanantes' (olas =waves) As you can see, it is not too shabby. 

Sol leaves Monday for a week in Europe, while Skye will stay here and try to put up with this horrible view!

        

San Christobal

We left Playa Bamba and went via Salina Cruz which had a security issue in town with army and cops on all streets with half the town's streets closed. We decided not to see what was happening and keep going. We stayed over night in Puerto Arista and decided to head to San Christobal, according to fellow travelers it is a great pits stop before you cross to Guatemala. 

We got to Tuxtla Gutierrez and were told that the highway, which was the short way to San Christobal was closed, we didn't understand why. Everyone except truck drivers were going the old untolled route. It would take an extra hour, but that was fine. 

A truck driver waiting for the road to reopen. 

                                       

          

We arrived in San Chrsitobal an hour off of sunset, on schedule, 10 minutes away from our destination. We just had to drive through town and we could relax! 

We ran into some traffic at the town edge, then we realised this traffic wasn't moving. Hundreds of cars were left in the middle of the road with their concerned owners walking about sometimes talking to other motorists. Some cars were doing u turns........That's when we noticed huge plumes of black smoke pouring out of the city. In the twilight of the diminishing evening we could then see the cause of the smoke. Massive rows of burning tires lined every way in and out of the city...... no one seemed to be rushing about in reaction to this bizarre and unexpected spectacle....this was no accident ......It was a protest. 

They had blocked the main route through the city. We got out our map and saw three other smaller routes through town, it became increasingly clear after trying all other routes with throngs of other cars doing the same as us, we were not getting through. Our frustration was increasing as options were dwindling. It was not an option to drive at night with topes, potholes, no one does it. The previous town was two winding hours away through the mountains, not an option. It was then that it dawned on us why the highway had been closed to us in Tuxtla as the protesters disruption of all routes through San Cristobal were thorough and complete. 

There was no parking options for us as we winded through the backstreets trying to work out our next move. 

We visited one hotel who sensed everyone's desperation offered basic rooms for $200usd and no secure parking. 

With roving protesters in balaklavas and an ever increasing army and police presence the non secure parking at the hotel was not an option. 

We briefly spoke to three young men in a delivery truck who were taking refuge next to the hotel. They warned us to stay clear of the lower city as we would be likely be inadvertently involved in the encroaching police and army presence who they said would not differentiate between tourist and protester dealing with them with truncheons in a 'mucho fuerte' manner. 

We found a sleepy backstreet 3 streets back from the protests to collect our thoughts. A kind looking man rode up to a house right next to us, clearly getting home just before things really got serious. The kind man and his wife looked concern for our plight, immediately understanding the seriousness of the situation. They kept a constant vigil over us from their barred house frequently coming out to ask passers by for updates and relaying them to us. We were sure that if things escalated we would be invited in. So we waited. We waited out the now inevitable clash between army and protestors that would bringing the situation to its conclusion. 

We learnt from talking to local shop owners that the protesters could be potentially bought off at each check point. Unfortunately there is no guarantee the final cost if you choose this route. Each check point could ask any amount and if you decided not to go further you could be stranded in this strange conflict. So here we were, sitting in our car.  Our penultimate night in Mexico was to be spent being serenaded to sleep by the gunshots, explosions and protesters cries issuing forth from the old colonial city. 

Early the next morning we drove the 10 minutes through the now cleared checkpoints to our campground, exhausted. The charred roads seemingly the only witness to the activities of the night before. Everything else was as you would expect a bustling city to be like. Owners opening their stores. Restaurants buying fresh produce for the day ahead. Builder's building and hawkers hawking. After parking we decided to walk into town and grab some much needed coffee. What a beautiful city! Colorful buildings lined the streets with many wearing the brightly colored traditional clothing indigenous to the region. As we weaved through the narrow market streets near the main square we were amazed by the luminescent dyes and intricate designs on display. 

        

                                   

         

         

                                   

                                   

Kids everywhere love a box!

                                     

Throughout the day we were able to piece together the reason for the previous nights protests. It turns out there is a scumbag politician landlord that owns the majority of the market stalls charging exorbitant rent. He recently started a black market taxi ring severely undermining the already limited options for income sought by legitimate taxi drivers. In hearing this we felt a solidarity with the protesters, the very ones that only moments ago we were cursing.

Next stop: Guatemala and the start of our Central American adventures...

The Ding Doctor and a beautiful beach

We left Peurto Escondido and stopped 3 hours down the road at a beautiful beach called Playa Bamba. 

We stayed at a camp ground which was run by a guy who called himself the 'Ding Doctor' (surf board fixer). He was an aging hippy surfer who had decided to leave the 'metropolis' of Puerto Escondido for some peace and quiet. 

Over dinner we had an American from Georgia notice our Georgian number plates asking if we had really driven that far. We confirmed we had, and he told us that was the second best story he had heard on his trip. We chatted for a little bit, he never told us what the best story was. 

As you can see the beach was beautiful and apparently is a protected breeding ground for turtles. 

        

       

        

       

                          

                          

         

          

          

Puerto Escondido

          

        

We were so happy to be out of the mountains, alive and at the beach!! Puerto Escondido has awesome waves for beginners and expert surfers. The coast is too rough for swimming mostly, there are maybe two points along the 5km beach where you can actually swim. The rest is only safe for surfers. 

There are three areas of the beach, one end has a small fishing village where a natural rock formation has created a cove for the fishing boats to be moored. Locals bob around in the 5-10 metres between the sand and the moored boats. Most locals don't have swimwear so just go in, in their clothes. Swimming isn't the main goal, they just sit where the waves come in, get wet and make sand castles with their kids. They seem to have a lovely time. 

Mid way down is Zicatella, where, like on our first full day in Puerto when the waves are pumping, there are 100+ really good surfers out and maybe 20+ professional photographers on the beach with amazing cameras with super long lenses to capture the moment. On days like that, there is no swimming on the beach and only professionals on the waves. It is just too dangerous. 

The skill of these surfers was admired by crowds on the beach, made up of locals, want-to-be-surfers (us) and touts. 

The other end, El Punto (the point) has great waves for beginners most days. This is where we learned to surf. Pretty consistent left point break that bends around the rocky point to gently carry you toward a vast sandy beach. This too can get pretty big, and we had to change locations during our 5 lessons due to this. Some of the better/braver/thrill seeking surfers start out before the waves break on the rocks and surf around the point. We saw that end badly for some with a few broken boards. 

Around the point has some great rocks to climb. 

                        

                        

                        

                        

                        

Our first few days in Puerto we walked the length of the beach, there was the girls national beach volleyball competition with people from all over Mexico competing. It was really cool to see, there were little girls of 5 years old with matching outfits and co-ordinated dances when they won a point, all the way up to more serious teenagers who were there to win. 

Having the volleyball championships on the beach highlighted another point that we really appreciated about Puerto. There was an equal mix of locals on holiday, some from as far as Mexico City and international surfers enjoying the beach. 

Like most places with a high number of visitors there are a lot of restaurants that offer 'western' food 10 times the price of local food. We managed to eat local food at local prices most of the time, it just took a bit more searching. 

Although we were camping in our car, we needed a secure place to park. Our accommodation was on the beach at a place called 'El Salvador'. It was run by a very round Mexican called Señor Salvador who spent most of his days in the restaurant visited by his friends, drinking the meager profits of the establishment and then sleeping it off in one of the many hammocks. He was clearly his biggest client.

        

                                     

                                     

                                     

      

                                     

There are a lot of animals in the tropics, and a lot of them lived at El Salvador, dogs, deer, parrots, cats, squirrels, you name it, there was one at this place!

The resident parrot came and said hello every morning. The deer was shy but ever present. 

      

      

                                   

Dogs are everywhere in Mexico, a lot are just street dogs. Most we have come across are friendly enough. You just don't pet them as they are dirty, have fleas and who knows what else. In Puerto there are beach dogs, they hang around the restaurants and play with the dogs who have owners that have brought them to the beach. All are really friendly and desperate to be taken home with other 'owned' dogs. The beach dogs have the most active social lives, the only thing they are missing is a consistent meal. A lot of the 'owned' dogs clearly had health issues also. Taking your dog to the vet isn't a priority here. 

When the waves were too big at El Punto, we went around the corner to another gem of a cove called Carrizalillo. It had lovely consistent long fat waves that gave us time to get up and enjoy a bit of time on the wave. As we were surfing, we didn't take any pictures, but it is one of the most beautiful coves we have ever seen. On our last lesson we were waiting for our next wave and we saw a turtle! Our instructor said she lives in the cove and is super old. She was half the length of our boards. She hung out for the next hour just bobbing between the surfers. It was great!

If we have time on our way back up, we will stop at this place for a few days. 

Despite all the surfing movies we had seen about territory and fights, people out on the waves were pretty cool. Some had a chat with you when waiting for the waves. The rules seem to be, if someone is one the wave, don't try to take it, and when paddling back out after a wave, don't paddle out where people are surfing. That is pretty much it. There was a good mix of guys and girls surfing, and as we can attest, they have worked hard for their good physics. A very strong fashion that we noticed with the girls surfing is g-string bottoms. Most girls surfing had their bums out on display. We are pretty sure it is a way to get your tanning in and surf all in one hit. None of the boys were complaining and as we said, there were no fatties on the waves! Surfing uses all of your muscles! Every day after surfing we were sore in places we didn't know we had muscles! Skye ended up with some big bruises as souvenirs from some decent falls. 

Example of a bare bum surfing!

        

You either walk on hot sand to El Punto or take a taxi from your hotel. 

       

                                   

     

      

      

At the end of our time in Puerto Escondido we had decided to buy a surfboard. Buying a board in a surf town is harder than you would think. There are a lot of salesmen who are like used car salesmen, then there is the new boards from a maker but who wants a new board? As you will more than likely ding it a lot as you are learning. The best way is to talk to other surfers who are improving and looking to downsize or leaving town and can't take their board with them. 

We ended up buying a board of an American guy, Scott who had a cabana at El Salvador and another one up the road at Zicatella. He split his time between the two. He was an actor from LA, he was taking some time from life in the USA, time to re assess things. 

We had spoken to him a few times over the course of our stay and mentioned that we were looking for a board. Turns out he had 14 boards and was willing to sell us one longish one that suited our needs for half the price of what we could find elsewhere. 

He had bought the board from a Jewish guy when he first arrived who had written some things about God on the board. Scott didn't feel the need to take the writing off, we think we will.  

                                    

The shine of Puerto Escondido had started to wear off, with a new board and some new provisions from the supermarket, we were ready to head off.  We hoped the words of wisdom from Scott the actor were true, 'If you can surf in Puerto Escondido, you can surf anywhere.'

                       

Fuck you Google maps!

       

Dear Google,

We have been big fans of your maps and used them daily all over the world. In Mexico when Garmin gps wasn't up to the task, there you were, taking us to some pretty remote places. We got so comfortable that we started to trust you 100%. After our near death experience on the roads in Oaxaca, we have to say, we are considering breaking up with you. It's not us, it's you. 

We left Oaxaca city quite motivated. 3-4 hours of driving and we would be at our stop for a few weeks, Puerto Escondido, a surfing hot spot mentioned by those 'in the know' along with places such as Hawaii for its consistent good wave. 

We opened google maps with the three options to Puerto Escondido, selected automatically was the quickest of the three routes. All had their fair share of winding roads so we accepted you proposition of the route which was an hour shorter than the other two. We headed through the city and ended up again in twisting turning mountains with seemingly suicidal drivers over taking on blind corners and rises.  By this stage this was nothing new to us. Topes, pot holes, uneven roads, oncoming trucks and cars, all par for the course in Mexico. 

                                      

The route was beautiful, not a pleasant drive due to previously mention stresses, but nor was it the worst roads we had negotiated that week. We were happily following what seemed like a tour bus also heading for the beach. We happily followed him as he was a nice driver putting hazard lights on when he slowed for traffic obstacles. All was going to plan. 

Then Google, you told us to turn right...... We questioned it for a moment, and double checked the entire route to the beach you had mapped out for us and, yes, this is what you had told us at the start of the day. This is where we were going to be 1 hour quicker. 

The thing is, we were new to this area, we trusted you to tell us the best route, you've travelled these roads before in your little google cars and satellites. 

What were you thinking?!? Were you bored with being the reliable map?  Did you get tired in southern Mexico and ask someone to finish the mapping job for you? It's clear that no one in your office has ever driven this route or really zoomed in on google satellites to check it out.

We selected "car" in the choices for mode of transport, we didn't select "extreme 4x4 off road racing". 

Google extream trucking button:

      

Crazily, I guess as you had been so reliable up until now, we turned right, when you told us to. We decided to stop following the responsible tour bus and take your suggestion. We got down into a town that seemed like they had rarely seen a foreigner considering the stares. In hindsight they were just staring at crazy people about to embark on an extreme drive! 

We then realised that we had to go down a very steep dirt track to get to the route you had proposed. We were apprehensive at the look at this road, but as we had experienced in previous days, occasionally off roading is necessary and the best option to get where you are going. Also, there was a large Corona truck that had come up this steep hill and was making a delivery blocking the street. This delivery van gave us hope that if there are trucks going up and down this road, it must be ok.

 We waited patiently for a moment for the delivery to finish and then we headed down this incredibly steep road, then there was a turn, not to a nice paved road but to what looked like a creek bed, even steeper than the last road. We looked up to where we had come from and realised that it was doubtful we could retrace our steps if necessary. That's when we saw a car (with lower clearance than us) coming up the steep creek bed. Hope reignited, we forged on in what would be the biggest mistake we would make that day.

After these two crazy roads, we found ourselves in the middle of jungle with a single dirt track. Contrary to the evidence stretching out before us, we blindly clung to the hope that this wouldn't be like this until the beach. Surely soon we will hit a a paved road again and be on our merry ways after all Google said we were only 2 hours off the beach! Surely, Google wouldn't send us on a dirt road as a quick route somewhere?!

                                

The next 5 hours were some of the toughest and scariest of our trip so far. We had no choice but to just keep going as the roads got worse. With no way of turning back we just had to make it through. The roads were just horrific, from driving over very uneven rocky roads, to driving through shallow rivers.

Some of the road had edges that were sheer cliffs of 100m plus, sometimes both sides were cliffs. There were parts of the cliffs where half the road had been washed away forcing us to carefully navigate the narrow bit of the road still intact, all the while, fearing this too would collapse without warning.

We occasionally drove through towns that had residents amazed to see foreigners driving through. We had resigned ourself to the fact that we may have to rely on the kindness of some of these people for shelter if daylight or fuel ran low. We desperately hoped it would not come down to this. 

      

Luckily we had just filled the tank at the last gas station so we were fairly confident we would have enough, just. In the five hours of this hellish ordeal, we saw one hand-painted sign selling gasoline. People along this route live hand to mouth, often subsistently, with the occasional day labourer finding work in the larger cities. They don't own cars, relying instead on the occasional overcrowded minivan or Toyota pickup, obliquitous in this part of the world. There were some delivery trucks going on this route too, very few, but still, how they do this route on a regular basis is amazing. 

On a sheer cliff, we drove past people fixing one of the washed out parts of the road. They were pouring cement to ensure there was enough road to drive on. They stopped work so we could drive past them. We drove right through the setting cement, past road workers clearing rock slides, around donkeys, chickens, playing children, not knowing what was coming next. We were just waiting for the next corner to present an uncleared rock slide or a large fallen tree that would stop us in our tracks. 

      

Amazingly enough after a hard slog on the rough roads, the small towns had maybe 20-30 metres of smooth dirt roads that they maintained, and what do they do? They add fucking topes! Are you kidding!? 

As the hours passed, the stress, tiredness and general shittiness took its toll, we had to take breaks, get out and stretch our legs to stay alert on the dangerous roads. This time the dangers that were presented were not due to traffic, but cliffs, washed out roads, rocky uneven roads that at any moment could break an axel or puncture a tyre. These breaks gave us time to take pictures for your Google maps. As you can see, this is not a road to recommend as the shortest route anywhere, ever. 

       

       

       

       

       

Somehow, just before dark, shooting out of the thick foliage of our jungle road we made it as per Google instructions, to a dirt track that lead to a town that had glorious cement roads. From there we turned onto highway 200, the same road that, had we followed the tour bus, we would have seen 3 hours earlier! 

30 minutes later we were at our destination, a veritable surfers paradise on the Pacific Ocean, on the western coast of Mexico. Rosa had held up to a test that she should never have had to endure. She had some squeaks and noises that were not there before this horrible day. We hoped the dirt in her engine and joints would work their way out over the upcoming weeks. 

So Google, please reconsider this route as no longer a car option on your maps. If you are sure to keep this route, may we suggest a thrill seekers button so people really know what they are getting themselves into. 

Regards,

Sol and Skye

Where we are now.