Monday, October 25, 2010

10/21/2010 - Cartegena, Colombia: Liberation

I've finally arrived at my home for the next few months: South America. It was quite an adventure just to get here with my motorcycle, but really, it's worth all the trouble. There are some amazing things I plan on doing here, like: scale Machu Pichu, drive the death road through Bolivia, star gaze in the Atacama desert, tango in Argentina, drive across the largest jungle on the planet, and of course give that big fucking Jesus a hug in Rio De Janeiro.

Getting to this continent was half the adventure. There's the massive stack of paper that I had to work through just to get my bike out of Panama. There was finding my container, loading my bike, and finally catching a slew of taxis and buses just to get to the sailboat. It was a pretty crazy couple of days right before catching that boat, but hey, I signed up for all that when I pointed my bike towards Mexico and never looked back. There were some times when I wasn't a very happy camper, but ultimately things have worked out, as I've spent the last week snorkeling in the carribean, and being a hopeless tourist around Cartagena, Colombia.

Once I was settled on the sailboat, it was a fantastic experience. The rain clouds lifted and revealed a beautiful island landscape. The San Blas islands consist of 357 separate islands that are owned and governed by only the indigenous people called the Kuna. It's a completely different part of Panama. Though it's considered part of Panama, they don't get to vote or have a say in government. But they do have pretty much total control of their islands. Therefore the environment is kept peaceful by Kuna law, and the results are some of the most gorgeous group of islands I've ever seen. Turquoise blue water with coral reefs for miles is pretty grand when all you have to do for four days is eat and sleep. I fell into a pretty vigorous routine of snorkeling, napping, snorkeling, lobster fishing, eating, napping, drinking, card games, snorkeling, or some other extremely difficult variation. It was all pretty relaxing, and it also doesn't hurt when the captain of you boat is a retired Austrian chef. Meals were hefty, and the people were wonderful. I really couldn't have asked for anything more.

Finally arriving in South America.  Booyah!!

Life is tough.
It's always nice to be in a new place, but Colombia is effing awesome. It reminds me a lot of Mexico. There are friendly strangers at every street corner, delicious street food, and amazing colonial history all around. Cartagena was once the entrance point for the entire Spanish Empire to all of South America. So, as you can imagine it was well protected. Around the old town, there's a twenty foot high wall for protection. And on the highest hill there's a massive fort (or castle if you're European.) Today the fort serves as a tourist attraction, but it's still pretty damn fun to walk around. There are not only amazing views of the city, but also dark ominous halls to explore on the inside. Also known as Disneyland for the cheap and mildly retarded American traveler. Walking hunchbacked down some pitch black historical maze can be a lot more fun than you'd think. Afterwards, I drank some beers on the relic walls with my newfound friends from the sailing trip. It really was a perfect travel day. Sometimes I love being a tourist.

Looks like I've got a boner...

Fortress of San Felipe de Barajas



Today was kind of a different story. After a full day of running around, I finally have La Chupacabra back to me. Unloading her today was pretty fun, since of course neither BJ, Ian, or I know how to listen. We were told to wear long pants and shoes when running around town, but it's pretty hot and were told the same thing in Panama and it didn't matter. So, when it came time for inspection, we had only a pair of pants and shoes between all of us. I had the shoes, so BJ traded me his pants and only I was allowed into the unloading dock. After a good walk, it was a nice sight to see the container. After it was opened I remembered the original problem: you can't get inside the container since the truck is so damn big. So after crawling under the truck and hopping in through the window, I finally freed Bertha. Next were the bikes. It was awesome to be back in the saddle, even if it was only for a minute to move it out of the way. A long while later, all the vehicles had been liberated, and I couldn't have happier to drive on some pretty fucked up one way streets with some other fellow motorcyclists and nutty taxis. Now that I've got my freedom back, I'm eager to hit the highway.
Oh! And I could dedicate a whole blog to this cheesy and bready street food.  Delicious and about 0.30 Cents.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

10/12/2010 - Panama City, Panama: Cinnamon Coffee

Waking up this morning was a pretty great experience. I'm staying with a wonderful host family in Panama and working on getting out of North America. I've luckily made some progress. I've actually got a ship lined up to take the bikes safely in a container. I've got a sail boat ready to take me Columbia. In other words, I'm pretty much set. I even got my paper work from the States! No more showing forged papers to officials for me. Also, it appears shipping a motorcycle is far from an easy process. If I mess it up, and leave without a proper stamp or paper. I'm fucked if I ever want to come back through Panama. Game over, they'll never let me back. So, I guess things are pretty serious around here. It's about two full days of running around to this place and that. Have some dude check this, sign that. Find crazy immigration locations, that don't have signs or people to help you. It's pretty typical of Central America, so I'm more used to it than most, buts it's still all pretty ridiculous. Anyhow, even though my current job is to run through Panamanian bureaucracy, I'm still giddy about the thought of getting some more road ahead of me. Almost there!

Captains log: my host family has taught me how to make patacones. They're delicious little breakfast patties that are made from frying green plantains. I've never had these until I've spent some legitimate time in Panama. I've been here for two weeks, and I'm finally getting some legitimate Panamanian culture. I cannot believe how wonderful my host family has been. It's literally insane how nice they are. As soon as I arrived, I received a hearty welcome the mother Gladys. She told us I can stay as long as I want. It was totally unreal, as I'm settling down, Gladys and our couchsurfing friend Mayra tell us dinner is ready. What? A free meal? I'm all over this. It was homemade chicken, with a side of rice, and a salad. I'm offered wine, water, and coke to drink. It's all just way too welcoming. It comes to a point where I'm joke fighting with Gladys to clean my own dishes! What a family! It's becoming so surreal that we felt bad for all the wonderful meals and hospitality we've received. At one point I felt so bad that I was just taking and taking, so I thought I should go back to a hostel for another night. But then I realized: I'm retarded. This is the best host family anyone could ask for. I should stay forever. 

I'm always interested in cooking, and of course eating, so I keep asking questions about Panamanian cultural food and staples. And since I've just been conversing about it, Gladys keeps making all of it for us. It's effing awesome. What are bollos? I found out at breakfast yesterday. What about empanadas? Well that would be this morning, and bravo tango whiskey, they're flakey, buttery, and delicious. Along with empanadas, we had tasajo, apple juice, and cinnamon coffee. It's awesomely comical when we're chatting with our buddy Ian, whose driving down in a truck / camper. He camped out in the mall last night and had never heard of couchsurfing, so while explaining it over lunch. We all had a good laugh when I was bragging about the kick ass cinnamon coffee. Sometimes I've got all the luck in the world. 

10/7/2010 - El Valle, Panama: The Last Bit of North America

Things have been quite unproductive here in Panama City. I'm looking for a boat to Columbia, while also trying to gear up to prepare my bike for the long road ahead. I've been super annoyed since I'm out of road. Being an engineer and knowing that I can build you a road through anything with enough money; it really frustrates me that the road just ends. I know Panama has it's reasons, but come on this is 2010, this is supposed to be the future. If there's a high demand for a road, which there is, then pony up and build the fucker. But all bitching aside, looking for a sailboat across has been more than difficult. I was lucky enough to hear about a guy at Hostel Mamallena. He couldn't have been more helpful in emailing captains and giving us information about our sea fairing adventure. Now I've got to wait. There are a couple of potential boats lined up, and hopefully I'll get my original titles soon, so I can get to my dream like destination of South America. Where the beer is free, the women are naked, and the streets are paved with gold.

I'll give you a quick synopsis of what I did in Panama City: changed a rear tire, bought a new front tire, bought a bolt, looked for some rain gear, and happened to see this pissed off alligator in a flood channel. This took a team of two gringos two full days. They weren't difficult tasks, but in the city scape, driving around and talking to people takes forever. Though there are hundreds of hardware stores nobody sells metric bolts. Same thing with the tire shops, nobody can change a motorcycle tire. Alas, fifteen hours later, I still can't find cold weather gloves and BJ can't find Scotch Guard for his jacket. Such is the life here in a foreign country. Sometimes I would kill for a Super Target or Chaparral Motorsports. 

Right now I'm feeling pretty grand. I'm staying with a wonderful couchsurfing host, David, in El Valle. It's a pretty kick ass little mountain town.  I can definitely see why David chose to buy a house here and retire. The weather is perfect, since it's tropical having a little elevation really cools things down. The city is in a collapsed dormant volcano crater, so even though it's mountainous it's basically flat all around town. Perfect for scooting around town on a bike. I'm pretty impressed being here, since our host has been all over the world, maybe forty different countries, and he calls this place home. I went on a motorcycle ride around town, saw the big waterfall and did some off roading in the mountains. It was super fun hauling ass through some pretty large dips and valleys on the bike. It made me remember growing up and having little fear when riding a bike. It was definitely good to be back on the road, since earlier I had some mechanical difficulties with my bike. 

Basically it died on me then wouldn't start up again. Luckily we were at Dave's, so we had the time and tools to fix it. Turns out it was an air hose that I had sliced when tightening a bolt down. The air hose creates a vacuum and brings gas into the engine. So I ran to the local store and picked up a new one and replaced it. Problem solved. Two hours later, my bike fired back up, and I was glad to be on top once again. 

I definitely have a different life out here. I encounter different problems and solve them in different ways. Instead of my old problems like should I get my friends over to play beer pong on Friday or Saturday night? Or locating and drawing eighty year old sewer lines at work; my daily life is oh so much simpler. My only legitimate concern is potholes, not coordinating friends, meeting deadlines, or being on time. Sometimes the ease of life without such conveniences as the Internet and cell phones, is actually more fulfilling and seems far more genuine. But really, who am I kidding. After I post this I'm going to go check on my fantasy football team. 

Monday, October 4, 2010

10/1/2010 - Bocas Del Toro, Panama: Gecko Ice Cream

It's nice change when you're traveling to encounter a place you've been before. Such is the case here in Bocas Del Toro. It's a cute little island town, speckled with nearby islands, gorgeous beaches, and snorkeling. Arriving at the island I find myself filled with memories from the last time I was here. So many great stories. Like Bui getting stung by a jelly fish, Allison getting nearly butt raped by a hooker in the ocean, Geoff slapping the shit out of Bui at a bar (the true beginning of slap bet), getting partially molested by a girl and her thrusting pelvis, becoming the sweat monster, and of course the infamous gecko-ice cream incident. All of which make me truly miss all of my friends. As I was taking a water taxi to the beach, I sat in a boat with just BJ, and definitely longed for a boat full of my good buddies again. But such is the life when in you're in a committed travel relationship with another dude. Ha. Gay.

Last night was absurd to say the least. First off, there's fifty cent beers at happy hour. A very ominous start to the evening, since BJ and I arrive at the empty bar precisely when it opens. As I'm there for a bit, I find out about a party where you've got to dress up to get in. Too bad I brought precisely two shirts and my shorts. Only sane white shirts for me. Of course BJ is all psyched up to look and dress like an idiot. So I play along and we find a nice Norwegian girl that lends us dresses for the night.  We find a German friend that we met in Nicaragua, and we are really pleased to find a decent sized group to head to this 'crazy party'. Turns out pretty much the only people there that look like jackasses are me, the group I'm with, and the bartenders. Oh, and there are like a grand total of twelve people there. Fuck it, what else are we going to do? So I make some friends with new Germans. (They're everywhere!) While BJ takes it upon himself to get completely smashed. I continue to have a normal night, a few drinks, a lot of dancing, and some broken conversations over the loud dance music that's playing. I'd say it was a good night for me, except looking like a fucking idiot in a dress.

What happens when you arrive too early at the bar.
Now BJ has a different story I'm sure. I know for sure that he fell down on the dance floor with our Norwegian friend and got kicked out of the bar. So being the super amazing friend I am, I give him a dollar for a water taxi and the keys to the room and help him on the boat. Then I return to dance with my friends. There was this moment that kind of defined the night: as I put BJ in the taxi and it's about to pull away some random bar dude says "you're friend is not going to make it home, you should help him". A split second decision needs to be made, do I help my buddy home and end my night early, or let him be responsible for his own actions and pick him out of the gutter in the morning? Tough choice, but I decide he's a big boy and he'll find a way home. I continue to have a ball until my night comes to a close. I leave with my new friends, and a head back to our hostel. We chat for a while, and I hope that BJ is soundly passed out in the room, but once I get there I realize he's not there, and I'll seriously have to pick him out of the gutter or jail in the morning.  Oh well, I went to sleep and saved my problems for later.


Eventually BJ made it back to the room somehow because he was home in the morning. The next day he looked like death, which serves him right. Now, I'll be the first to admit that I like to drink, but at least I can moderately control my intake of tequila shots.  BJ not so much.  So, after only one night in Bocas, I'm ready to leave. It was fun reliving some old memories, but I'm glad to be back on the road south. I'm giddy to find the end of North America and head into the unknown of the South.

Saturday, October 2, 2010

9/29/2010 - Boquete, Panama: Bring It On

A long cold soggy ride and I finally make my the destination for the night Boquete, Panama. It's a touristy mountain town where it seems to rain all day long. Apparently it's supposed to be beautiful, but I'd never know since it's covered in a blanket of fog. But I've got some time to kill, so it seems like a nice place to spend two nights.

Now I really wish I would have read this in some of the hours of Internet research I did before making this trip: bring your original title to your vehicle. That would have been so damn convenient. I'm here in Panama figuring out how to get my title to me. It's been problematic  at almost every border except Mexico. I guess my doctored up color copy doesn't really cut it. The dude at the Costa Rican border totally called me out, and asked where the original was, but luckily honesty worked, and he let me in. I'm not taking any chances in South America, so I'm getting that title somehow. Once I finish up some business, I'm headed for the first country on the South American list: Columbia. 

Now the Pan American highway is the longest highway on the planet, but there's a very inconvenient break in the road called the Darien Gap. It's a forty mile stretch of swampy forest controlled by guerrillas and drug runners, so for the sake of safety I've got to put my bike on a boat and ship it to Columbia. This is going to hurt. I don't trust people handling my bike with cranes, then putting it on an old salty boat in hopes of encountering calm sees. Definitely makes me nervous, especially since it's going to cost me seven hundred dollars. Yikes. I hope my Spanish skills are up to par, so the shipping adventure goes smoothly. If all goes well my bike will be undamaged, I'll have snorkeled in the San Blas islands, and eaten my weight in lobster. Definely not looking forward to the voyage, since my house is my Kawasaki. I hate when things like that are out of my control, at least on the bike if I crash or leave my bike somewhere dangerous, it's my fault if something happens. Whatever, It's all for the sake of adventure. Bring it on.