Panajachel
(DAY036 : Comitan - Panajachel : miles)
(DAY037 : Panajachel)
The road to Guatemala border was outstanding. The curves, the surface... In about one hour I was at the Banjercito taking care of Katirga's paperwork. (If you forget to officially exit your vehicle you may have to pay fines later.) Once that was taken care of, in about 10 minutes, I was next door exiting my person from the country. I entered Mexico with a visa which took 45 days to obtain, so once I exit there's no going back for me. Another 5 minutes later, I left Mexico customs and immigration in company of 2 other bikes. One of the 1200GSes was straddled by Cesar and his wife, from Mexico City, the other by Mike from Los Angeles. Following Cesar's lead we continued to the border and bypassed the long line at the gate. The Guatemala border is total chaos. A narrow dusty road filled with trucks and people, more like an open bazaar and not remotely resembling a border. Yet, you somehow end up where you're supposed to, and before we knew it, our bikes were getting fumigated. A required but completely meaningless procedure that is supposed to justify the $2 charge per bike. After visiting a couple more booths, $7 and 35 minutes later, a kid lifted a rope for us to pass and we were in Guatemala.
Entering Guatemala with Cesar
Cesar rides like we are on a race track, and we are hauling heinie. As we wind between hills and beside rivers, the views range from gorgeous to spectacular. I feel a strange pain as I let them pass un-photographed and barely appreciated. Soon enough, the surprisingly good road starts to show its true colors, then pulls a disappearing act. We suddenly find ourselves offroading among work machines, with 2 meter visibility in thick dust. You would think we would slow down eh? Cesar is convinced that he's invincible, but I'm not sure why I am playing this dangerous game.
On decent sections of the road, as it occasionally shows its face, we have a blast, but Katirga is using all she's got and then some to keep up with the german twins. I should remember to check whether if she still has any feelers left under the footpegs. I truly wringed her neck, the poor little thing.
So we arrived Panajachel after hours of non-stop, full-on riding, for a lunch break before moving on to Antigua. The fajita at the restaurant by lake Atitlan was a disaster, but the town and the view felt quite nice, so I ordered a Gallo and gave myself an excuse to let the others move on.
Lake Atitlan from Panajachel
After checking in to Hotel Monterrey for $20 a night, I headed out to explore the town with Henry, another 1200GS rider I met while we were eating by the lake. This guy flew into California from the UK, got a motorcycle license, bought the beemer, and headed to Costa Rica to practice his new riding skills on the way to immersing himself in yoga! Off the bike, in his flannel pants, button up shirt, and smart shoes, he's far too slick for the word "biker" to stick, but it's too late to stop bikerness from getting a hold of him.
It was a Friday night, yet the town was dead. The next day we took a boat trip to nearby indigenous villages. It was ok, but nothing special after seeing Chamula.
Below: Santiago
Santa Cruz
So far we both have only met really nice people in Guatemala, and this includes the indigenous people as well. I think riding down Mexico provides an excellent transition to central America. The conveniences are slowly removed, and their triviality clearly demonstrated. Warmth on the other hand, spoils you rapidly. The professional, distanced, robotic approach to life, along with all the money, is now left far behind. Possibly (but not definitely) because I don't have to deal with the difficulties these people face daily, I sincerely believe that what's found here is far more valuable than what's left behind.
On Saturday night, we dragged ourselves out once again with no hope for any activity, but found the town flooded with people. Another late night, leading to another hangover. Expedition eh?
(DAY037 : Panajachel)
The road to Guatemala border was outstanding. The curves, the surface... In about one hour I was at the Banjercito taking care of Katirga's paperwork. (If you forget to officially exit your vehicle you may have to pay fines later.) Once that was taken care of, in about 10 minutes, I was next door exiting my person from the country. I entered Mexico with a visa which took 45 days to obtain, so once I exit there's no going back for me. Another 5 minutes later, I left Mexico customs and immigration in company of 2 other bikes. One of the 1200GSes was straddled by Cesar and his wife, from Mexico City, the other by Mike from Los Angeles. Following Cesar's lead we continued to the border and bypassed the long line at the gate. The Guatemala border is total chaos. A narrow dusty road filled with trucks and people, more like an open bazaar and not remotely resembling a border. Yet, you somehow end up where you're supposed to, and before we knew it, our bikes were getting fumigated. A required but completely meaningless procedure that is supposed to justify the $2 charge per bike. After visiting a couple more booths, $7 and 35 minutes later, a kid lifted a rope for us to pass and we were in Guatemala.
Entering Guatemala with Cesar
Cesar rides like we are on a race track, and we are hauling heinie. As we wind between hills and beside rivers, the views range from gorgeous to spectacular. I feel a strange pain as I let them pass un-photographed and barely appreciated. Soon enough, the surprisingly good road starts to show its true colors, then pulls a disappearing act. We suddenly find ourselves offroading among work machines, with 2 meter visibility in thick dust. You would think we would slow down eh? Cesar is convinced that he's invincible, but I'm not sure why I am playing this dangerous game.
On decent sections of the road, as it occasionally shows its face, we have a blast, but Katirga is using all she's got and then some to keep up with the german twins. I should remember to check whether if she still has any feelers left under the footpegs. I truly wringed her neck, the poor little thing.
So we arrived Panajachel after hours of non-stop, full-on riding, for a lunch break before moving on to Antigua. The fajita at the restaurant by lake Atitlan was a disaster, but the town and the view felt quite nice, so I ordered a Gallo and gave myself an excuse to let the others move on.
Lake Atitlan from Panajachel
After checking in to Hotel Monterrey for $20 a night, I headed out to explore the town with Henry, another 1200GS rider I met while we were eating by the lake. This guy flew into California from the UK, got a motorcycle license, bought the beemer, and headed to Costa Rica to practice his new riding skills on the way to immersing himself in yoga! Off the bike, in his flannel pants, button up shirt, and smart shoes, he's far too slick for the word "biker" to stick, but it's too late to stop bikerness from getting a hold of him.
It was a Friday night, yet the town was dead. The next day we took a boat trip to nearby indigenous villages. It was ok, but nothing special after seeing Chamula.
Below: Santiago
Santa Cruz
So far we both have only met really nice people in Guatemala, and this includes the indigenous people as well. I think riding down Mexico provides an excellent transition to central America. The conveniences are slowly removed, and their triviality clearly demonstrated. Warmth on the other hand, spoils you rapidly. The professional, distanced, robotic approach to life, along with all the money, is now left far behind. Possibly (but not definitely) because I don't have to deal with the difficulties these people face daily, I sincerely believe that what's found here is far more valuable than what's left behind.
On Saturday night, we dragged ourselves out once again with no hope for any activity, but found the town flooded with people. Another late night, leading to another hangover. Expedition eh?
posted by Serdar at
8:51 PM
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