Two Guys From Toronto Road Trip Part 2
Now officially top 5 destination is Guatemala. In my
anyway. Semuc Champey is 10km of a very rough ride of steep ups and
downs. The only way for a tourist to get there is on the back of a
pickup truck that occasionally run back and forth or renting a 4×4 in
Antigua or Guatemala City.
The pools of Champey is nothing is like I have ever seen before. It
consists of a wild river that turns off into a cave system just a few
feet before the pools. The crystal white pools with beautiful clear
water are the main attraction.
Millions of years ago, sea shells got crushed and pulverized and later
hardened to form these pools with water flowing into them from way up in
the jungle. I have tasted the water from the streams and it is so heavy
on minerals it’s almost salty. Of course I don’t settle just for
watching these from eye level so while Alex stays for a dip I go for the
exhausting, 30 minute steep path way up on top of one of the mountains.
Well worth it. I ran into our Croatian friends there that we met the
night before in Languín. Way down was less exhausting but dangerous as
very little light gets through the canopy and the path is very slippery.
A dive into the crystal pools was so welcoming. Making way from one
pool to another either over the natural dam or under, through a small
cavern. The ponds are full of fish that just nibble on your skin. An
exfoliation of kinds. Of course this wasn’t enough. From the Croatians I
found out that there caves a few hundred meters from here. You don’t
need to convince me. So this was probably one of the coolest things I
have done in my life. One this about Guatemala is that the level of
security in places like these is zero. One of the Croatian girls Maria, a
couple from Cali, me and the guide are handed a candle each and set out
for well over an hours exploration of the cave. My first thought is,
will these candles last an hour? Endless number of stalagmites and
stalactites in an endless cave. 11km to be exact. We only went in just
under a mile but it was a mile of swimming crawling through tight spaces
and up waterfalls to get into other levels. Most of the hike was done
half submerged. All of this was done with the hopes to keep at least one
candle going. Half way through we knew the candles were not gonna last
so we started putting some out to save them for later. Because of a
still swollen ankle from my bike spill back in August, I passed on a
dive into a pond inside the cave but I was the first to slide my body
down a sort of tunnel opening into the unknown.
We are now 3:1 as Alex gets dumped off his bike again. Well, not sure if
#2 should count as he just forgot to kick out his side stand and thus
leaned the bike into emptiness right in front of our hotel back a few
days ago in Isla de Flores.
My bike is short to follow. For whatever reason I did not wear ear plugs
coming back from Champey. 99% of the riding I do. As we hit the
pavement in Languín I hear a cling as if a piece of metal hit the
ground. I try to stop but no front brake. Using the rear and gearing
down I pull over. One of the screws holding the front caliper flew off
and the other is hanging by a few threads. I walked back a few dozen
feet and surely enough there is the bolt on the cobble stone pavement.
What luck, I’m thinking. Not only that I heard it drop but especially
that it didn’t happen anywhere else on the 120km stretch of steep hills
and 500ft drops on either side. Remember when I was getting my front
brakes fixed in Cancún? The bikes have really been getting a beating the
past two days. I’m really surprised that more hasn’t happened but a
drop of thread lock would have prevented this. All I had was crazy glue,
so a few drops on the treads and back in they go. Easy fix at the side
of the street.
We spent the night with the Croatians in this awesome hotel that
consisted of a number if straw huts alongside the river. Consuming
Gallos and Brahvas long into the night before a good bye to them as they
were heading up to Tical and Cancún.
Did I mention that we barely ever paid more than $20 for a hotel in
Guatemala? Food is insanely cheap too. About $5 for two big breakfast
and pure Guatemalan coffee.
We have a few more nights in Guatemala before taking on Honduras. We are
both insanely pleased with it and I will definitely return to discover
more of this beautiful country. Too bad about the well deserved bad rep.
Guatemala a fairly small place with little population averages 500
murders a month. Yes, that’s almost 17 murders every night, not
mentioning traffic and other accidents. December had a whopping 544
murders and 29 deaths over the New Year’s Eve we spent here. Overall we
never felt threatened even in the remote places. On the contrary, people
were very friendly everywhere we have tackled. I even got down a few
more Mayan phrases from the lovely Mayan ladies back in Languín where we
stayed for the past 2 nights. They don’t have words for “to buy” or
“purchase”, but I got down phrases such as “mas natatin qua” for “I love
you”, “mantita kek” for “ride me cowboy style” and “masli sam” for
By far the hardest drive ever. I have done some similar
type were I would venture off on a 250 XT or a CR but the rewarding
destination had us pushing on. I have had a spill last summer on a road
easier than this. This one dragged on for 100km deep in the Guatemalan
jungle of the Cordilleras
Semuc Champey is supposed to be the 8th wonder of the world. I will be
the judge after seeing the 7th only a few weeks back. We set off from
Rio Dulce but choose not to take the easy 350km ride but opt for the
hard, 130 kilometers.
Enthusiastically we hit the dirt mountain road. Results start showing
shortly. The bimmer is the first. The bolt on the left side of the
headlight happens to hold the left projector light has come loose and
gone MIA. The headlight is now bouncing around loosely and in danger of
breaking of completely. A bolt that happens to be the same size is taken
off my crash bar for replacement. This bolt is too long so a few
washers and a Canadian toonie where I knock the center out make for a
We are now way high with nothing but Indian villages every now and than.
The scenery is absolutely stunning. We stop ever so often to take
Second scare comes minuted later when I pass Alex as he thinks that he
has a blown front shock. Hundreds of thoughts get processed instantly.
Ok. Trip is on hold. Need to find a truck to put the bike on. Get the
bike to Guatemala City. All and all, about 8 days to get back on the
road. What a relief it was to find out that only the front fender got
bent and jammed under the front wheel. What a relief.
Every time we ask for directions the ETA seems to be getting further. We
never really knew the distance but the first time frame we got was 2
hours. After an hours driving, the couple of guys that walked out of the
bush said three. Another hour goes by and we are getting really
exhausted as this seem to be the reminiscent of a Dakar rally stage. The
group of Mayan girls just turns around and runs when I ask them so I
opt for the man walking this kids. “Dos horas”. C’mooon.
It took us about 5 hours to drive this technical course of 100km to get
to Languín. The last stop with a restaurant and a hostel before
Champey. Beat, we settle in one of two hostels awkwardly called Rabbi
Itzam that happened to be full of Israeli backpackers. Never in my life
would I have thought I would drive this far for a dip.
Another crappy night and morning, so I decide to do something about it
but not sure what yet. As soon as the market opens up I head out in hope
to find a cure. Before you know it I’m standing in front of a store
that besides other stuff seemed to be selling remedies and ointments. I
briefly describe to the shaman with his fingers full of gold rings what
is happening. Without hesitation he seemed to know what the problem is
and pulls out two packages for me to choose from. Hmmm. The blue pill or
the red pill. I opted for the more expensive at $4.90 which of course
will give better and faster results than the $4.50 package. “Ok. Could
you come over here and slide your shorts down” he says. “No, man. I got
the flu I think” I reply confused by his request. “I understand” he
insists. “Could you come over here and slide your shorts down” as he
points for me to come behind the counter. Now that the package is open
and he is reaching for a syringe off the shelf, its coming all together.
Without hesitation and disregard of the morning passerbyes I go over
and drop them. “I give you the thinner needle” he says as he is mixing
the yellow and the transparent content on the vile. That made me really
happy as it was the needle thickness that really worried me and not him
using bare hands full of gold rings on his fingers and not disinfecting
my left butt cheek. I pick the syringe up for inspection to make sure
there is no bubbles in it. Good. Gitty up!
Whatever this stuff was, the results were instant. No longer was I
worried to go on a 2 hour boat ride to Livingston. On the way there
little native kids are pulling up to us on little dug out boats in
either hope to get a gift or try to sell us sea shells.
Quite an interesting sight with the dozens of native huts in between the
Next stop on the way was a small bar on the water that had hot springs
right next to it. Up above the bar were some caves and caverns. All ran
To get to Livingston we back tracked a bit back to just a few kilometers
from the southern most part of Belize. Livingston is now a small
fishing town but used to be and very important port and trading place
back in its day. Now its economy is based on tourism. A variety of
cultures live there from East Asians, African, European and Native. The
interesting thing is that it is not an island but is completely
inaccessible by land. There is a few beaten up vehicles there but just
like everything else, all brought in by barges.
The town even has its own laundrymat.
Past few days I am hooked on caracol. It is the meat from the big huge
shells that people put to the ear thinking they hear the ocean. It is
usually served grilled with garlic.
New Years was spent right in front of our hotel where the only party in
town took place on the basketball field. In many South and Central
American countries I noticed, that people don’t really give a damn about
the quality of the sound, as long as it is super loud and has tons of
As predicted, the cold can no longer be ignored and I
a complete sack of s***. Sore throat, watery and tired eyes, pressure
in my ears that won’t pop, runny nose, weak body… No time to waste and
haste. We pack the tents up, jump on the bikes and head out towards Rio
Dulce. I wanted to get there early to catch up on blogging and get a
rest. The bikes have been awesome. We have eased up the throttles in the
past week and beer getting over double the distance. I’m getting almost
an unbelievable 480km per tank cruising at 80km/h as oppose getting a
mere 180km on a tank with the same bike with a modified exhaust running
around the highways in Canada at 120km/h.
Just as a torrential downpour starts we pull into Rio Dulce. Not sure
what to think of this place. On one hand it seems like a poshy gateway
to the Caribbean with marinas, big yachts and people boogieing around
the delta on Seadoos. On the other the downtown core was no shortage of a
market in Thailand. We could barely squeeze down the Main Street on the
bikes as it is completely filled with market stands felling anything
from cell phones to home made food. Right down my alley. We settle at a
hotel a stone throw away from it all with view of the delta across the
marina. $20 per night was hard to turn down.
Immediately drop my bags in the room and run to the market. So many
goodies that I could not identify. As I’m negotiating a deal on a fried
fish wrapped in newspaper the 80 year old lady at the next stand breaks
off a piece of her home made whatever and tries to jam it in my mouth.
No success there. I did end up buying a fried green pepper stuffed with
veggies though. Now. Where do I consume all this treasure? Bar Las Vegas
says the sign deep inside the market. All riight! How convenient. Have
a cold one with it. We waltz in like we own it. But wait…. Why is it so
dark in here? Old guys sleeping heads down amongst tables full of beer
bottles. Those not sleeping are barely standing. Groups of young punks
playing with cellies staring us down, but an unusually high ratio of
semi good looking women sitting randomly through out the place. “4pm
Sunday?” I’m thinking. I look up as perhaps I made a mistake on the date
as I notice tube televisions placed above, conveniently in each corner.
Each was playing a different hardcore porn. Oh, I get it. I reluctantly
sit down under one of those TVs followed by Alex. Even the $0.75 beers
couldn’t make me stay longer that it would to devour all the stuff from
the market. I don’t think Alex has said one work the whole time. I did
enjoy my fish and stuffed pepper though. I had my camera and really
wanted to tape the place but with Alex combined we were no match to the
group of vatos that would surely like to borrow my camera for a while.
We jet the place as the old drunks start approaching us to start
The Caribbean sea will be able to take a breather once I’m gone. Despite
being sick I still have an unsatisfied hunger for seafood. We head to
the ranchos on the water so Alex can have his dinner too. I could not
resist the seafood soup. A huge bowl with 2 whole crabs, about 10
shrimp, a number of huge mussels and an entire fish at the bottom.
We put our names on the list for the boat leaving for Livingston the
next morning and I head to the hotel to nurture my sickness and catch up
We said bye to Blake the previous night without a doubt
will cross paths on this trip again. Not an uncommon thing. We have
been running into the same people ever since Mexico. He was rushing to a
family reunion in Antigua some 500km away and we were going to
backtrack to the ancient city of Tical. By now I’m totally sick. I felt a
sore throat the day before but thought that if I ignore it, it will go
away. All the tequila and Gallos have just added to it not to mention a
slight hangover. The morning was a struggle. Tical is off the grid way
in the jungle and what a sight. The day was so fulfilled with excitement
that the crappy feeling has totally gone until the next day. My jaw
dropped when I entered the Main Square. I know I have said this before,
but this, this has outdone anything on this trip.
I was so hyped to see this place that I never grabbed a map guide. I
climb up the highest spot possible and just when I thought I have seen
the best of it I see two more temples out on the distance to the west.
Without hesitation I set out westward. I find Alex to ask him to join me
but he is still limping from our little incident when we tripped over
the Tropic of Cancer way back in Mexico. To add to the sorrow, he
thought it would be a good idea to kick a coconut laying on the road
while doing 80km/h. Yes, using his already swollen foot. He politely
Cool thing about this place that there was very little tourists. Tikal
is luckily not very easily accessible and Guatemala is not the most
popular tourist destination. It damn should be.
I found myself alone almost every time I went off the main path and
every time I was getting myself into a never ending maze of Mayan
structures. The other cool thing is about Tikal is that it is in the
middle of the jungle and thus not maintained to a degree like Chichen
Itza. You can not see from one place to another through the trees and
there is no abundance of wild life either. I have seen wild turkeys and
pizotes roaming together, with spider and congo monkeys above. It all
added all that much more to the atmosphere. I make it to temple IV and
climb all the way up. What a sight. Nothing but thick jungle with now
the main place and temples I and II in the distance. It was a perfectly
sunny day, but to add the the spectacle a dark cloud with a tube of rain
and a rainbow coming at us from the left.
I spend about 3 hours exploring and getting educated. The ancient city
is spread over an area of more than 100km square and at one point had up
to 80 000 inhabitants. Over a million pieces of artifacts and tools
have been dug up and apparently over a million still hidden in the ruins
that to this day still have not been excavated.
I find in at the off the grid hotel/ cabins by the parking lot and not
surprising, he is sitting there with the Czechs that we ran into in
Belize city. The hotel owner let’s us pitch our tents up on the grounds.
Nice. I missed camping and there was very little choice as it was
nearing dark and the closest town with a hostel is 50km away. Not that
we couldn’t afford the $75 cabins but the further south we get the
further we seem to push the envelope on how little we can survive. Cold
shower and a toilet. What else could you possibly need. To top it off
they ran the generator until 9 to keep the beers cool. We dragged it
long into the night. No big good byes as again, we might see each other
in perhaps another country down the road. That night we decided to go
200km south to Rio Dulce and than perhaps take a boat down the river
on the Caribbean side again. They decided to head west to Semuc
I forgot to mention that, despite its bad rep, both Alex
were extremely impressed with Mexico. Towns, especially in the south
were super clean. I have even seen encouragement for recycling. Nothing
but friendly people along the way and wherever we hung out. Even though
we probably broke the traffic laws a few hundred times with or without
the presence of the police, there was never any trouble nor bribes
necessary. Police was always friendly and helpful. Despite thousands of
topes (speed bumps) we have gone over, Mexico is in my top
Remember Jim and his wife, the club owners that we met at Chichen Itzá? I
got an email from him that he featured us on the club sites. www.musclebikesofamerica.com and www.musclecarsofamerica.com
Thanks Jim. I will be sending the photos shortly.
We pack up and head out towards the Guatemalan border about 100km away.
We drop by at a hotel/ restaurant about 20km from the border to get a
coffee. Coincidentally, the South African owner was from Boquete, Panamá
and we had a lot of friends in common especially from the bike club
there, the Macho Montes.
Again, easy border. By now we are getting into the routine. In and out.
Having no lineups really helps. Thus far, the Canada to US border was
by far the most dreadful.
Beside us pulls up an old school, camo KLR with Ontario plates. Blake is
an awesome dude from Ottawa that has been doing the same trip and has
been on the road four months now. We drive together about 80km to Isla
de Flores. Amazing town on a lake island. Very reminiscent to old
Quebec. Narrow cobble stone streets with music coming out of the tons of
restaurants and bars. In someway I feel pity for people who buy into
prepackaged vacations in the ordinary vacation spots. We have hit dozens
of magical spots along the way that are easily accessible for single
travelers, couples and families on any budget.
We settled in a nice hotel for only $30 a night overlooking the lake and
backing onto one of these cobble stone streets. Due to its tiny size,
there is no back nor front yards on Isla de Flores so the nice lady let
Alex park his bike right in the front lobby and I drove mine down the
hallway right up to the room.
After the usual stroll through this beautiful island town, we set out to
the boardwalk where there is dozens of stands and vendors selling local
food. For 10 Quetzales (equivalent to about $1.25) I had a filing
supper of 6 tostadas with just about every possible topping. And I was
told it gets cheaper the further south we go.
We meet up with Blake and head the bar district to share many amazing
stories and many more beers.
“Porque no tacos sin picante?” as the little girl in the
Bell commercials says. All the spicy food is taking its toll. With an
abundance of public toilets this subject should not be taken lightly.
But it tastes so gooood.
We cross in the morning into Belize. Pretty simple. The whole process
took no longer than 10 minutes. Stamp ourselves out, stamp the bikes out
and get a promise that the $400 deposit that we left in Brownsville
will be credited. Shoot across into Belize, get insurance for the bikes,
drive down half a mile, get the bikes fumigated, (the guy never even
gets out to spray them) stamp us in, stamp the bikes in. No lengthy
paperwork, no line ups. Present the passports at the gates. Done.
Beautiful Belize here we come.
What are these crappy roads? Garbage everywhere. Slums along the road
and the smell of septic everywhere? I’m sure it’s going to get better
further down. Nope. Still the same. We get into Belize City as it
starts raining. Drive around for a while with no luck of finding a
hotel. Finally after almost an hour we find a small hotel not far from
downtown. Good deal for about $40. Very little septic smell and a place
to lock the bikes. I’m used to suicide showers but never have I’ve seen
one with a plug. What can you possibly plug in there?
We head out to the water front. Town is kind of sketchy but I have seen a
lot during all the travels so feel pretty comfortable. It has a lot of
potential if it was cleaned up and the roads fixed. Stopped of at a bar
right on the water called Bucket Bar. You can’t just buy a single beer
here. Only a bucket of six. That was no problem as by the time I got to
the table randoms are approaching with “Where you from? What’s your
name? Can I have a beer?” By the time I made it across I had one for me
and one for Alex. So a bucket later we set of for a stroll to where the
cruise ships pull into. Austin was the guy who promised to get us
anything and everything. We had a few beers with him in front of his
store and I got a pair of fake Ray Bans from him for $8.
On the way back we run into some Czech backpackers. Bucket Bar seems
like a good idea. I was grateful I brought my action cam. It must have
been a good night. I woke up with an empty wallet and a hangover. The
camera will tell.
…by now my nose resembles one of Rudolf and my lips are
grilled Oktoberfest sausages. A combination of constant windburn,
sunburn, sea salt and Coronas micheladas has done a number on
So the previous title might be misleading as we never head out for
Belize. Now looking at the map and realizing that we are getting way too
close to our destination, we decided to spend one more night at the
border in Chemutal. Well that and the reason that the smell in our dry
bags was starting to be unbearable as the dirty kept on piling
We drop the laundry off and I head out to Wallmart for yet another micro
chip card for the sports cam. This would be number four of 16 gigs
each. I jump into a taxi to take back to the hotel and our plans for the
day unveil than and there. The driver, Henry turn out to be this
awesome guy that, coincidentally was born on Isla Mujer. He told us
about this cool spot about a 30 minute drive from town. I wasn’t really
up to hanging out in town. Don’t get me wrong. Chetumal is a nice town
I’m sure but after a while they are start blending together. Main
street, historic part, main square, church, boardwalk, etc, so thought
it would be a nice change. Staying around the hotel is never an
I find Alex wrenching his bike as I unpack my shopping bag consisting of
a six pack and a….”Where the hell is my memory card?” Ok. Retrace, look
again. Check bag, check pockets. Nothing. I give Henry a buzz. Luckily I
wrote his number down with the intention of calling him later for a
ride to the lagoon. “Yeah, amigo. It’s on the floor here”. We got to
stop leaving stuff in cabs. I arranged for him to pick us up in an
Henry shows on the dot and we set out. Towel, some cash, no ID as we
only got checked once while on the bikes the whole time in Mexico. “I
just have to stop by my house to get my license” Henry announces. Great,
so the whole time he has been driving without one. His subdivision is
called Las Americas and all the street conveniently after each country.
Except his. Ottawa.
As we near our destination we get stopped in a road block. Ok, everybody
out of the car the officer says. Great. No IDs either of us is the
first thing on my mind, closely followed by, what are the chances? Thank
god at least Henry was smart enough. After a thorough search of the
vehicle he turn to us with a smile. “Pasaportes, Señores?” “Mmm, see
Before I had a chance to come up with a story Henry explained to him
that he truly did pick us up from a hotel. With a quick confirmation by
the towels in my bag and sandals on our feet he set us off to go. There
might have even been a hint of a smile and a salute but we were all
piled in the car already just in case he changed his mind.
The lagoon was a bit different from what I imagined, but still quite a
sight. For some reason I imagined a pool size lagoon with a waterfall
and a blonde under it. Yes, Return to the Blue Lagoon. Apparently,
inlets and bays and lakes fall under the lagoon category as well. This
particular was an inlet of the Caribbean and a sparkly, fresh water
river mouth with dozens of swim holes. Henry head out back with us
around 4. On the way back we drive by his sister in law’s property.
Henry must have sensed my interest for history as he sparks my curiosity
with a story that there is 3 ancient ruins on there and his brother in
law found a brass mask there. I would have to see it to believe it but I
still wanted to get a octopus dinner in me and laundry was to be picked
up after 5. Next trip.
Octopus had a fight with my stomach later so not by choice, I stayed in
for the rest of the night and watched Teen Wolf with Michael J. Fox in