Yes Victor. Next year after I finish South America I'll head to Europe!

PN

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When you come to a fork in the road…take it!

BLOG: paulnomad.blogspot.com.au

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Apologies for lack of posts!!

Having conquered the road to Semuc Champey and avoided a journey ending injury on the river I turned my mind to a growing concern about Ziggy. The oil problem had to be looked at. Usually the only three reasons an engine will use oil is an external leak, leaking past the piston rings or leaking past the valve seals. There was no external leak and both other options had dollar signs attached. I couldn’t believe these things would be worn at the mileage I had done but I had no other explanation.

I made my way back to Guatemala City and booked Ziggy into Bavaria Motors the next day after explaining the issues with one of the non-mechanic guys. I didn’t have a lot of confidence in passing the information on second hand to the mechanic as the English was not really good enough for what I needed. The next day they had the bike for the full day and I was told by text message at 5pm that the rattling sound was due to low oil and they wanted to top up the oil.

I had a bit of a text dummy-spit with the poor guy, saying that it was unacceptable because the low oil was a symptom not a cause. I was conerned they would put mineral oil in again etc. So I told them to do nothing and I would come down in the morning. Fortunately I had previously met the rider trainer Jose, and he spoke perfect English. Jose helped me out the next day and surprisingly I had a discussion with the head mechanic and the technician for almost an hour and they allayed my fears.

The story goes something like this. I have been using synthetic oil in the motor for 40,000kms and it builds up a coating over the moving parts to form a buffer that stops wear and tear. When I was in Mexico I had an oil change at Guadalajara through the BMW dealer. It is normal in this part of the world to use mineral oil (the natural stuff) not synthetic so he didn’t think to ask. I only realised after he had changed it and I had some concerns at the time.

Now mineral oil is made up of molecules that are different sizes, some small and some large. It is a little more abrasive than synthetic oil that has exactly uniform-sized molecules. It seems that using mineral oil after long term use of synthetic oil can scratch the coating created by the synthetic oil. When I changed back to synthetic oil, the smaller molecules travelled through the scratches created by the larger molecules, accessing the combustion chamber and burning. Hence a higher consumption of oil.

Now this was explained to me by the mechanics so I ran the explanation by my Australian mechanic who I use as my BMW guru. He agreed that it was a plausible and likely explanation. All agreed that a few thousand kms using synthetic oil will seal up the ‘scratches’ and the oil consumption will reduce, hopefully back to where it was, which was nil. Eventually this was indeed the case and Ziggy never used a drop of oil later.

At the same time I had been having a periodic loud noise from the front of the engine when I start it. It has happened five times. To my surprise and relief the mechanics found a faulty alternator belt tensioner that was replaced and now is running normally.

No pictures but Ziggy is back to normal!!

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Once the work was done, I went for a Saturday morning ride with Jose (the instructor from Bavaria Motors) and twenty other riders, from Guatemala city to Lake Atitlan.




It is awesome riding with a group and it made a big impact on the little towns that we visited on the way.




We stopped for a nice breakfast along the way.


Then stopped in at San Marcos at Lake Atitlan.






I stayed in San Marcos with my good friend Cisco at his waterside house. It was a nice relaxing weekend sitting and staring at the volcanoes across the lake.


The carport


The front verandah




Sometimes it's easier to build around the rock...


The view


Lake Atitlan is a very tranquil place near where I started my journey in Guatemala but now I was in my last weekend, getting ready to ride to El Salvador. But Guatemala had one more challenge for me. First the driveway,


which I negotiated without a hitch, but the steep twisty road to this view
saw me fall for the fifth time in Guatemala, this time on the tar. Missed another photo op!


El Salvador beckons.

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El Salvador has long been of interest to me partly because it has a history of violence and civil war that it is healing from and partly because there are not so many people I meet that have come here. People often tend to go through Honduras and Nicaragua and pass by here because I think the name conjures up some fear with the reputation of the notorious M13 gang and the violent history. The more I read about the country the more interested I became. Once again my attitude is to be a friendly smiling face who will talk to anyone and show respect for them and their culture. So far that approach has created nothing but positive interactions with people along the way. I don’t expect El Salvador to be any different.

I approached the town of Pedro de Alvarado looking for the Aduana. It was easy to find due to a long line of trucks that I rode past to the front of the line. I was waved on to a security guard who checked my papers and sent me to the immigration office in the same building. I made a new ‘friend’ who wanted to help me and was explaining how many copies I needed of what and where to go. I found that my Spanish has improved enough to move through the process quite easily and the friend soon realised I was capable of sorting out myself. He still hung around like a seagull for chips but in twenty minutes I had my passport and temporary import permit stamped for exit, photocopies of everything and smiles from the helpful officials. No costs, no approaches for bribes.

I rode the one kilometre to the border and was directed to the immigration building in La Hachadura. A man with a little English met me and explained that I needed photocopies of my documents. He was the photocopier owner. He was correct and the copies were a couple of dollars as El Salvador uses US dollars as it’s official currency. I went into the Aduana office to a window where they took my copies, checked the originals and started the entry paperwork. In about 45 minutes all was finished and the last process was to stop and give a very attractive female attendant $5 for entry into the country. Every vehicle is charged this. Less than two hours and I was riding through El Salvador. Easy, friendly, painless and honest.

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It was a short ride to the little town of San Francisco Menedez on the river of the same name and the entrance to the El Imposible National Park. I just liked the name.


I walked to the office/house nearby and decided I would camp, I told them I wanted to go for a walk in the park in the morning. I was let in and rode fifty metres along some smooth river stones that lined the roadway and I set up camp amidst a group of guys playing soccer on a dirt and rock flattened pad just off the road.
I set up my tent to the inquisitive stares of some ten or twelve guys aged from around 16 to 40, and a couple of young kids. It was humid and I was hot after taking my riding gear off and erecting the tent, so I assembled my chair and their faces were gold. They had never seen anything like a fold up aluminium chair before and in fact it had amazed people who know about such things.
I sat and watched them run fearlessly barefoot over the rocks and dirt kicking a very hard small soccer ball. The kicked it hard. These guys are tough.
Didn't think to grab the camera unfortunately.

I had a great conversation with some guys before they headed off as it was getting dark. I think we all had a mutual respect for each other and they didn’t see me as any sort of threat nor I them. A few guys stayed around as I pulled out my fuel stove, lit it and started warming some beans and tuna. They were captivated by my little modern firemaker.

One guy asked if I had tortillas and once he realised I didn’t, he ran off to his house, returning a few minutes later with two piping hot, freshly made tortillas.

Half an hour later the young guy who had brought me tortillas returned and sat for a while. We chatted about his family and life and the community. A lot of people lived along the entranceway to the national park, many families. He lived with his parents still and he was 25 years old. He pointed to a house where his grandparents live and explained that all his uncles, aunties and cousins lived in the area. He wasn’t related to everyone there and he told me that there were plenty of girls to choose from in the area but he was single at the moment. He didn’t work because there wasn’t enough work for all the men.

The next gesture really surprised me. He was carrying a pair of shoes and he offered them to me. I didn’t fully understand the story with the shoes but he was concerned that I was walking in the park with my sandals and that these shoes were tougher and a lot more suitable. I tried them on and they were a perfect fit. He wanted no money for them and he wanted me to keep them. After a while he left and I didn’t see him again.

In the morning I made some breakfast and packed up a few things to go for the walk. I wasn’t sure how big the park was or how long it would take so I left my tent up. I was nearly ready when a woman came up to me with a National Parks shirt and cap and told me her name is Ana and she will be my guide. My guide? Why not I thought.


I was ready in another five minutes and we started up a rocky path that became steeper as we went.


We passed a small village of houses but soon were in the park boundaries where no-one else lived. Ana spoke no English but I was able to understand a lot of what she was saying. She described many of the trees and bushes with their local and scientific names and explained what they were used for. The jungle is a complete pharmacy and she knew all about them. It was fascinating hearing her impart her knowledge.




After 5kms including a river crossing across rocks and changing trails several times,



we reached a small track leading to a lookout with great views to the ocean.




Ana described the boundaries of the park and what we were looking at in different directions.


There was no possible way I could have found this alone. We made our way back and she explained that there was a donation involved for the guide, normally $10. I gave her $15 because I enjoyed the tour and she was very knowledgeable. The jungle here is in beautiful condition with large numbers of species of animals and plants but apparently that is a rarity in El Salvador due to land clearing.

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I didn’t travel far, only about 80 kilometres and stopped at a beach Playa Los Cobanos that I had marked to visit. It was a small fishing village right on the beach with a ramshackle series of thatched cabanas adjoining each other. The bike got lots of stares and I really just wanted a coffee but all that was on offer was instant and I have some of that with me. Eventually I asked about a hostel and I was directed to a nice place down the beach with parking behind a large fence and steel-sheet gate. It had a pool and was right on the beach. The rooms were $59 but they had a dorm for $10. I was the only one in the dorm.
It was a busy beach with lots of fishing boats






I hired some snorkling gear for a couple of hours to swim around the rocky reefs but it was low tide and looked like this most of the time.


I followed the very interesting looking road along the coast with its bends and tunnels and local agriculture.










Drying corn on the road


While there is a genuine attempt to educate the population on recycling there is still some way to go.


I stayed a couple of nights in El Tunco, a renowned surfing beach.


While I was there a brown stain washed down the river from a recent thunderstorm and at the time it made it not very nice to swim in but over subsequent days there was a huge fish die-off due to lack of oxygen and I heard that for the following two weeks the place stank of rotting fish. Real shame for such a nice place.


Black sand

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It was getting towards the end of the week and I wanted to meet up with some BMW riders from Santa Ana (El Salvador) who I had met in Guatemala. I rode away from the coast and headed into the mountains and back to the west. I took the opportunity to check out Lake Coatepeque, another stunning volcanic lake with volcanoes in the background.




I went for a ride around the lake then up to the hills around it, meeting some locals along the way.


I took a turnoff to Cerre Verde, a national park up at the top of one of the volcanoes. It was a relatively clear day but as I climbed higher it became cloudier.


I arrived at the top and was taken on a guided walk to see a view of the lake and the adjoining mountain.


As we started the walk a large cloud moved in to obscure the view.




It was still a beautiful walk through the rainforest with old trees,


but eventually I walked back to the bike and headed downhill towards Santa Ana. On the way it rained a little, then I noticed that my trusty steed was finally run in.


By the time I was down at lake level the rain had stopped and I found my way to La Casa Verde in Santa Ana. It was a top-class hostel, friendly, clean and cheap – with inside parking – so I booked in.




With visitors from all over


And cheap


The next day went wandering through the lively little town with its fresh produce.









I left the Green House and owner Carlos after two nights to meet up with David, a BMW rider I met in Guatemala. After a couple of failed attempts at directions and finding his restaurant I gave up because I didn’t have phone connection, it was starting to rain and I was riding in circles. I headed towards the Ruta de Las Flores, one of many specified routes in El Salvador to explore unique features of the country. I eventually found my way to the smaller roads through the mountains.

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To say the Ruta de Las Flores is spectacular is an understatement. Even in this season without flowers, mile after mile has manicured roadsides with lush vegetated mountains.




Not only lush but planned and arranged in patterns of mature plants that checkerboard the hillsides.


Green, mature, tropical, it was an outstanding ride through what I can see is a special place. The pride in the massive gardens of this area is apparent. It is clean, the roads are good and the people friendly.






I tend to wave and smile at people as I go anyway but here it was different. Almost every person waved back with a big smile. No looking at me strangely, no turning their heads away but a big engaged grin and wave. In fact they seemed to love it that I was making the effort. The elderly, kids, almost everyone responded the same way.
The rain had stopped and the roads were dry but it was a grey day with low light. I can only imagine what this place looks like in full bloom and sunshine. How is this not a targeted destination? I think the reputation of El Salvador is a disaster for the country and her people. It’s a place that has come out of its dark times, has great roads and small cities with all the facilities and modern infrastructure, yet the small towns are beautifully simple and El Salvadorian with pupusas – tortillas stuffed with cheese and beans – at roadside vendors. The beaches in the west are full of traditional fishermen and boys, with the surf waves building up along the centre of the coastline, attracting surfers from all over the world, to the long empty stretches of clean breaking surf to the east. Tricky to get access but worth the effort.
The Ruta de Las Flores was ending so I stopped to buy bananas from a woman and her grandchild with a small table outside their house. She was just so lovely with a big warm smile and she kept taking my hand to shake it. I put the little guy on the bike and they took a photo with their phone.


They were so chuffed that she gave me two fruits with big seeds and pink flesh, like a custard apple. That generosity again!

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After Ruta De Las Flores I turned towards the mountains and Sonorata. It was a ride up the big roads again to the mountains then easterly back towards San Salvador. I made a turnoff to wind through the mountains and small villages again but it was getting later in the afternoon and I needed to get to the beach and find accommodation so after half an hour I turned back towards the six lane highway heading to the airport.
It was a great downhill run with largely empty roads being a Sunday and I clicked Ziggy into sixth gear to give her a bit of a run. Oops. I was waved over by police who showed me that I was doing 106km/h.
‘What is the speed limit?’
‘In all El Salvador the maximum is 90.’
‘Sorry I didn’t see a sign.’
‘There is a sign at the top of the hill’.
Ok I was busted. But as usual they were interested in the bike and I explained to the policeman who spoke to me in English that it has ABS with the brakes and tyres in good condition and although I was speeding it is quite capable of stopping quickly from that speed. He was a bit amused but he was also friendly and seeing my papers were in order and that I was a traveller from Australia I guess they concluded that it was pointless fining me because I was leaving the country soon. They let me go with a caution, one that I heeded now I was aware of the speed limit. I really hadn’t seen a single sign since arriving and I was often overtaken.

It was approaching 5pm as I pulled into the town of Playa San Marcelino. I rode around the town and there wasn’t much in the way of hotels and no hostel. I was stopped by a spruker as I rode towards the beach and discovered that hotels start at US$50 a night. I had a chuckle and kept going. I rode a bit further down the coast and found another hotel that was a bit rundown and not so inviting but right on the beach. Same price. I decided that I would have to go to another town to find a hostel.
The hotel attendant asked me what price I was looking for. I explained that I was a traveller on a budget.
‘My budget is $15.’
He shook his head a few times so I took my guide book out of the tank bag and started looking at nearby options. A couple of minutes later he approached me again.
‘Come with me. Follow me. Bring your moto.’
He led me three doors down to a large white concrete wall with a metal gate where an armed guard answered his knock. I followed them in but Ziggy decided to not start. No lights on the dash, no power anywhere. I was thinking that it was the battery, hoping it had not suddenly given up without warning. I rolled her inside and an old semi-derelict resort opened up in front of me. Jose led me to three rooms, opened the first and said,
‘I can see you are different, you can stay here.’
‘What is the cost here?’
‘Whatever you think.’




There were beds with linen, electricity and airconditioning but no water. Jose then invited me to come to the other hotel later to use the internet. I walked to the other end of the property and an extensive, amazing, empty unspoilt beach opened up in front of me.




I was right on the beach and I started having visions of opening this place as a hostel and wondering who owned it and how much I could get it for.








Strange thoughts for a nomad and first time it has happened to me. This place is paradise. I walked along the beach in both directions for a while and it soon became apparent that it is a privilege to have beach access. It is all private access with houses and hotels built up to a line back from the beach. No obvious access for the public.

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Getting back to Ziggy I tried again putting the key in but again there was no power to anything. I removed my luggage and the seat to access the battery. I wriggled the positive terminal and fortunately the power resumed. The terminal wasn’t exactly loose but wasn’t as tight as the other. I noticed the connectors were also a bit dirty. I removed them and filed them to a shiny brass colour then tightened them on well.




Sure enough Ziggy jumped back into life. Even on a high tech bike some basics need doing such as cleaning battery terminals!

I decided in the morning was a good time to attend to a couple of other maintenance issues that I noticed on the bike but hadn’t done anything about. For some time the manual adjustment of the rear shock absorber had been getting more and more difficult to move. I checked and it was completely seized.
The left hand mirror had been knocked out of place with one of my falls and the wind guards on the hand grips were not really guarding me from the wind, they needed to be a little higher.

The suspension adjuster was really stuck. I had just bought a tin of spray in Santa Ana two days before. I worked on the adjuster for a good ten minutes making very little headway. I didn’t have the correct sized shifting spanner to pull the mechanism off so I sprayed as much lube spray as I could into the thread. I let it sit overnight and in the morning the adjuster had loosened up enough to gradually work it loose. It took another fifteen minutes but finally I was able to turn through the forty plus clicks of adjustment. I undid and adjusted the mirrors and hand guards, evening up both sides and tightening all the screws properly. Little maintenance things and adjustments make such a difference to the riding. I had neglected them a bit so I sought out all of the springs and moving parts and gave them a little spray to keep them lubricated.

I was raised near the beach in Sydney and it was a prominent part of my upbringing. I sometimes forget how energising it is to walk along a deserted beach with waves crashing, the breeze off the sea-water filling my nostrils with the salty fresh smell and sea spray forming a haze over the white foam as the waves break far along the coastline. So far El Salvador beaches are matching many I’ve seen in Australia in the remote tropical regions. Beautiful. El Salv-adorable.

I loaded up Ziggy and followed the road to the end of the peninsula, another fifteen or so kilometres. It ended where a large river meets the sea. It reminded me of the Maroochydore River in Queensland in the 1970s. Wide and wild flowing the ocean, crashing onto unspoilt beaches that stretched as far as the eye can see.






There was a small town sporting makeshift restaurants with thatched roofs on the banks of the river just above the tide line.


I picked a restaurant, or let’s say I was herded into it by a spruker, and although I was hungry I had spotted some small roadside kitchens along the way that appealed to me. Once again it is off season and a week day so there are few people around and all the vendors focus on who is present, me.


I bought a coffee and set myself up in a hammock overlooking the wide flowing river, in the distance I could see the white crashing foam of the sea as it collided with the river flow. I think I dozed off for half an hour. So serene, so peaceful, so perfect.


I dragged myself away and backtracked along the coast and turned inland back to the mountains.








In Guatemala, Cisco had recommended a place called La Tortuga Verde – The Green Turtle – a turtle protection project with a hostel and environmental resort. It was a long way around to get there and I rode more than 200kms, arriving at Playa Cuco at around 5pm. There was a sign to continue for another three kilometres and after a bit of a dirt road I pulled into a driveway to be confronted by the biggest flag in El Salvador.

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I booked into the hostel and noticed two other travel bikes, another 1200GSA and a Kawasaki KLR 650 with British rider Jamie on a surfing riding tour.


I checked out the BMW to see where the plates were from, El Salvador, then I was approached by a tall guy with long dreadlocks.
‘Is this your bike?’
‘Yes. My name is Rory.’


‘No way!’ I explained that Cisco My friend in Guatemala) had told me to keep a look out for him as Rory had stayed with Cisco as he was travelling through Guatemala. Cisco struggled to understand why Rory had only made it to El Salvador and stayed for nearly two years. Rory is a surfer and when I saw this place it became immediately apparent to me. Not only was this as much of a paradise as the place I stayed last night but it was even less busy, longer beaches and a regular turtle laying area.




I knew right away I was going to stay a couple of nights at least and I was finding a strong pull from El Salvador to stay longer. When I find places like this I have to remind myself that I’m on a world motorcycle trip and at some point I have to leave. Ok, only two nights. Well maybe three. It didn’t help when Rory told me that if I book in for two weeks I get the following two weeks free. Also I can volunteer at the turtle sanctuary and that contributes to my accommodaton…
One week later I managed to drag myself away from this paradise. Beachfront living with a pool,


massage, great company,


surfing if I want


and cheap local seafood. It doesn’t get much better. I didn’t need to rest from my travels but being involved in baby turtle releases








projects to improve their chances, egg burying,


filming duties on their GoPro




Observing female turtles laying eggs on the beach






and engagement with the local media were all fun and good feeling things to do.
Aussies and Brits seem to gravitate to the beach more than in the mountains and I’ve hung out with some wonderful travellers and really enjoyed their company.


La Tortuga Verde is a great destination and I can’t recommend it enough. As if it couldn't get any better, mother nature put on a show of storms and sunsets.













Many thanks to Tom and staff and ongoing volunteers for sharing your passion and expertise with me.

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When you come to a fork in the road…take it!

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Leaving La Tortuga Verde, I was all loaded up, turned the key, clicked into neutral, pushed the start button. Click…then nothing. Battery again. It’s not an easy thing to remove my seat to access the battery with the way I have the luggage set up so I had to undo all of my strapping to get in and jiggle the battery terminals, then pack it all up again once it started. I had to go to San Salvador and get this sorted, and I needed to fix my new problem of the burnt out headlight wires. My plan to visit some other places including a nearby waterfall had to change and my plan NOT to go to San Salvador also had to change.

San Salvador didn’t really endear me with crazy traffic, crazier roadworks, thick air pollution and lots of noise. I found the recommended hostel but I can’t forward on the recommendation because I didn’t find it very friendly or welcoming. However when I met with Rafael the mechanic at San Salvador BMW, who spoke English, I was reassured and the bike was booked in to get fixed.
He tested the battery and told me that I will probably need a new one but I could just see how long it lasted. I didn’t heed the urgency.


The next day I rode out to Suchitoto, a quaint town by an enormous reservoir, Lago Suchitlan,


and as I arrived Ziggy died again. I found my way to a hotel and decided to return to San Salvador the next day and leave my luggage at Suchitoto.


In the morning on the way back to San Salvador I broke down on the side of the road for the first time.


I was stranded. Fortunately there was a delivery truck nearby and the guys used their phone to call Rafael who sent out the recovery crew. Three hours later I was back in San Salvador with Ziggy on a trailer. Such a sad sight.


A couple of hours later we found a new battery and she was up and running again. The guys at San Salvador BMW were great and didn’t charge me the earth.


I rode back to Suchitoto and stayed my second night. It was an interesting town with difficult to find views of the lake which was a shame because when I did find them they were spectacular. The centerpiece of the town was the large white church in the centre square.


There were a lot of Spanish-looking buildings and a good selection of eating places, the ones near the square being real tourist prices but a couple of streets away a Fonda served ‘typico salvadoreno’ food. Cheap and delicious. Napoleon and his family at the Los Sanchez Hostel/Hotel were excellent hosts with a great place and cheap prices. Parking for the bike but no Internet. There was wifi nearby so not a problem.


The next morning I rode a short distance to the lake to take the ferry across to go to a town called Chalatenango. They advertised $4 for motorbikes for the crossing but he charged me six, saying it was a big motorbike. It wasn't exactly booming business.




I tried to negotiate but he was surly character with too many years driving the ferry, so I paid the six and got on my way.


It was a hilly rise away from the lake and a pleasant ride leading to great views for the twenty or so kilometres to the next main town.








Chalatenango was not easy to locate, then harder to find the centre and when I did it was thick with traffic and hot. I stopped for some lunch but the place didn’t grab me so decided to get closer to the border of Honduras and check out the town of La Palma.
Now La Palma did grab me. The town was painted with colourful murals with the centre square being the centerpiece of the art. I walked the town and took fifty photos, every mural outshining the previous.

















I spoke to a few people and told them how good it looked and they were happy to hear it. The La Palma Hotel was similarly coloured and the owner was very welcoming and friendly, providing a beautiful setting for my last night in El Salvador. There was good security for the bike, Internet, a restaurant and it was quiet.

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It’s so sad that El Salvador’s reputation keeps people away. I had a great time there. From the first night when I camped at Parque El Imposible where I was given a pair of shoes from a guy who had nothing, to my last night at La Palma where the colourful murals put a big smile on my face. People were quick with a smile and a wave, friendly, helpful, generous, humble and I have to say I found the girls very pretty. The beaches were beautiful and I highly recommend La Tortuga Verde as a destination at El Cuco. You will find the best sunsets in Central America.

Get hold of the map that colour-codes the ten or so ‘Rutas’ and enjoy the drives. Ruta De Las Flores is world class, even before everything is in bloom. Other rutas take you through volcanic areas, along artisanal trails and more. The coastal road with its twisty bends, views of the coast and tunnels is a great ride.

With the US Dollar as currency, cost calculations are easy. Food was cheap and tasty, with my food vocabulary extended to include pupusas. Accommodation was easy and cheap. Good quality dorm rooms at hostels are $10 with standout places again being La Tortuga Verde in the east and Casa Verde in Santa Ana.

The police stopped me three times. Once for a licence check, once for doing 106 in a 90 km/h area, and a third for doing an illegal u-turn. Each time I was let go with a warning (the first was no problem) because I’m a bit naughty by speaking only in English, feigning (or not) lack of understanding Spanish, smiling a lot and shaking their hands. Being Australian is always a good ice breaker with a little demo of how a kangaroo jumps. I think they get it that I’m not going to pay and I’ll be out of the country soon. They were always polite, professional and there was never a hint of asking for bribes. I think I just make it too hard for them and usually they smile and shake their heads. Body language is international!

Finally the roads are excellent and the drivers are amongst the most polite I have encountered in Central America. Buses are respectful, unlike in Guatemala. Not so many people can afford cars so there is not much traffic. The only exception is San Salvador which I found confusing, gridlocked and just horrible to ride through.

There are many places I didn’t get to see because of some issues with the bike but three weeks will just get you to most of the sites. You may want to stay longer if you enjoy lying around in a hammock by the beach. BIG thumbs up for El Salvador!!

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When you come to a fork in the road…take it!

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Hi Paul, first off a belated happy new year or in the case of the Chinese, a happy Chinese new year .... anyway good excuse for a .

Been reading yer posts, El Salvador sounds like a nice place to visit, also the La Tortuga Verde. Green turtles, they must be from Ireland or mars .... kinda the same in a way mmmmnnnnn But am gonna visit. you paint a nice picture of the place.

Am planning a trip ... Pan American so am reading up on all the info that I can get. So will sometimes pop up & annoy you Like you I will be mostly travelling alone Which has it's advantages & disadvantages

Anyways Paul thanks for sharing & gonna be tagging along

Have fun, stay safe & keep the rubber side down. Regards Vince

Hey Vince

First mate, thanks for following!! It's definitely a journey. Way behind on the blogging so lots more 'jammed-packed action' coming up haha. Nobody told me how hard it is to keep the blogging going!

The Americas have been a great place to travel. I'd recommend an adventure here to anyone. Take as much time as you can in Mexico and don't rush Central America. My best moments have been off the tourist trail with time up my sleeve to respond to whatever the journey throws at me.

Good luck with the planning and any questions, fire away. Legible answers not guaranteed haha!!

Cheers
Paul

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