19 November 2010

Yesterday, if I had known that the number of the container and the seal was on my bill, I would’ve taken the train because I would’ve left as soon as the cars were loaded. Waiting around was such a pain but I jammed with Joelson a bit, he on his bongos, me on my guitar. It was too loud to hear ourselves though. We both took the express bus back to Panama City. Only $2.50. On the way out of the port we were detained for about five minutes because we walked up to the front rather than use the bus they have to transport employees. Seems like they just didn’t want us to leave. The Taking of Pelham 123 was shown on the bus. I took a taxi back to Casa Rica. Joelson said he was going to try and take a boat from San Blas to Colombia.

This morning I mailed my postcards and then headed to the airport. But there were no flights left. I spent $380 on a ticket for tomorrow afternoon. They wanted me to buy a roundtrip ticket for proof of onward travel but I explained the situation with my car and they okayed my purchase of a one way ticket. After that I took another twenty dollar cab ride back to Casa Rica only this cabbie was sick and did not take the expressway because I didn’t want to pay for the tolls.  The first cab did not ask me for any toll money.

Taxi to the airport

Casa Rica looks like an apartment building but its a hostel. It used to be called Zuly’s and is located at the end of an alleyway which makes it difficult to find. Everyone I’ve met has said it took them forever to find this place. Apparently the previous owner was a tyrant but now it’s owned by a friendly Venezuelan. And it’s located near a lot of places (clubs, restaurants) unlike some of the other hostels.  It’s only a few blocks away from Calle Uruguay which is a hot spot.

This business is also near the hostel

I spoke with Evelyn from Barwil and told her the problems we encountered. She assured me the container will ship tomorrow and arrive by Monday. Colón may have a high crime rate but they have bible verses at every intersection on Central Ave.

18 November 2010

Getting the necessary papers from the shipping company and obtaining an exit permit  from customs was both quick and painless. The Port of Cristobal however has been a slow wait. It took us four hours to finally drive our cars into the container and it still is not over. We must wait for someone to come secure the cars because the ropes they used are not enough. I really want to take the train back to Panama City but it leaves in thirty minutes and even though the station is right outside the gate, we have to go all the way back to the front entrance to exit. Having Joelson though has been a great blessing from God because he speaks fluent Spanish.

Joelson and his Dodge Charger

Driving his car into the shipping container.

Now my car is secured. 

17 November 2010

It turns out the guy I met yesterday, Joelson, is the guy whose container I’m sharing. So after all the final paperwork and instructions I started off to Colón. But not before visiting the Mira Flores Locks. The drive was incredibly easy and I can’t believe how stupidly I got lost yesterday. I watched the introductory film and then went to the observation deck and there was Rachel. I knew I was going to meet her there.

Bridge to Panama City

We watched a large Grecian oil tanker navigate through the locks and then I dropped her off at the bus station. Last night I went out with guys form the hostel an we got stopped by the police who wanted to see our passports. No one had their passport and after some stalling they let us go. I told Rachel this as a warning to carry a copy everywhere. I also told her about the clown last night who practically ate 6 cigarettes at once. Lit cigarettes.

Last night I was out with Chris, Carne, and a Norweigan named Stian. Carne is a Brit. Chris is deep into conspiracy. Said he did surveillance on Alex Jones when he worked for the government. Said he helped set up data mining centers. Talked a lot about Bill Cooper. Said he, at 28, was a retired millionaire. Said something big’s going to happen in the U.S. by mid 2011. He’s very interesting in that respect. Also wholly without morals and has said so himself.

Colón is dirty and the traffic is the worst. No lights or signs. All go, go, go in a mad rush at every intersection. The Free Zone is a waste of time. Shops and all. I don’t want or need to shop. But I went back to Colón 2000 to Café Iguano to eat. The hotel restaurant sucks.  I had a club sandwich and fried octopus rings which were like onion rings except with octopus. 

Colón may have a high crime rate but they have bible verses at every intersection on Central Ave

I cannot find a flight I want to Cartagena online. I’ll just have to go to the airport.

16 November 2010

The only problems I had at the police station were my fault. This morning I went to the wrong office. Needed to be across the street. So I made a turn on the highway that ended up taking me on a long return. I should’ve just gone down the road at the light then cut over a block as the street I was going to turn down was one-way. The first stop took maybe ten minutes. They looked at my car right away. They said to come back at 2 p.m. to the building across the street for my papers. 

So I lounged at the hostel and invited Rachel to come with me and we would drive to the Mira Flores locks on the Panama Canal. This step took an hour because I had to find the right office and there were two people ahead of me. The clerk also entered in the wrong VIN information twice.

The guy ahead of me was a homeless, mohawked older man on his way back to Brazil from Los Angeles. It turns out he is probably the guy I’m sharing a shipping container with. He is eager to leave for Colombia as soon as possible.  He has been stuck in Panama for almost a month because of the ceaseless national political holidays which have kept the government offices closed.

Meanwhile Rachel waited outside lying in the grass. I apologized for the wait but she said it was no big deal. We were off to Mira Flores. Somewhere I took a wrong turn and we ended up on a highway and then back downtown. Eventually I got my bearings and just drove us back home. I apologized for the waste of time but she was okay about it. She said she’d probably take a bus tomorrow. I did my laundry today (I dropped it off at a laundry mat) and ate dinner at a vegetarian chinese restaurant. 

Out of nowhere it stormed and now the power is out.

15 November 2010

Today I woke up early and took a cab to Seaboard Marine. They quoted me a price of $1200 to ship my car and sent me to Barwil Agency which is where I went Friday. But they gave me the correct address which is way out in the boonies across the bridge away from the city in Howard which is a former U.S. military base. I asked the cab to wait thirty minutes and then go if I didn’t return.

I was told tomorrow I must go to the police to get the car inspected and I must be there at 10 a.m. because they only do it between 10 and 11. I was given all the forms I needed and then sent on my way. It took about fifteen minutes but the taxi had already left. I was able to flag one down despite my remote location.

This girl Rachel had moved into the dorm this morning and we walked in the rain to Casco Viejo, old Panama. My shoes got soaked. We took in the view of Panama’s skyline and then walked around the town square before taking a cab to Panama Viejo which is the ancient older capitol of Panama.  There were plenty of ruins from the late 1500’s. Jesuit churches and a convent as well as the foundations of houses and other buildings.

12 November 2010

Got stopped for speeding and bribed my way out of it with two bottles of water and two packs of cookies.

Driving in Panama City is nuts. Crazy. No street signs. Got lost and drove around for an hour. Finally found the hostel tucked away in a corner. Lots of one way streets. Walked to the shipping office but google was wrong so I got a cab. The office isn’t there anymore. Very maddening. A waste of time. A waste of two hours. Emailed more for quotes. Gotta wait for the responses.

11 November 2010

I woke up this morning at 4:30 because all the girls in the room woke up to catch busses. I didn’t leave until 10 and I decided on going to Pedasí, a small coastal town. At Las Tablas I made a turn towards Tonosí but this took me way out of the way on a road not on my map. A twisting road through mountains so fertile and green I thought I was in Scotland or New Zealand.

At Tonosí I gave a guy a ride after asking for directions to Pedasí. He was probably only 15.  Pedasí sucks. The hostel I was going to stay at turned me away for some reason even though the old lady initially said she did have a bed.  I didn’t understand at her at all. So I got a more expensive room for thirty-three dollars.

After measuring my car I headed to a cafe for dinner and wi-fi. The waitress made no effort to serve me. I had to walk up to the bar to order. A coke here in a can is $1.70!!!!  That is outrageous.

Most importantly however, there are no beaches. I thought the town was on the beach but it’s not. This defeats the whole purpose of coming here. I sent out emails asking for quotes to ship the car. Tomorrow I will be in Panama City. I should’ve done that in the first place. After the Costa Rican jungle fiasco I purposed not to take any side-trips. This side-trip has just been a waste of time and money and hasn’t provided a fun diversion or helped achieve my end.

10 November 2010

This morning I woke up at four and laid in bed for a bit as the day began to dawn. I took waking up early as a sign and quickly and quietly packed up my things and left Punta Banco at 5 a.m. in a slight drizzle. Though the road was better in some parts it was still absolutely horrid. At one spot I got stuck on a bridge and was scared I was about to go over but I managed to wiggle out. At a steep incline the bottom of the car started dragging which stuck the car. Some guys helped me push it up. I was angry the whole way and started screaming at the top of my lungs and gunning the car as fast as I could. Anything to get out of the jungle. I was overcome with rage that I even decided to follow Neil. By the time I made the 18 kilometers to Conte my strut was completely thorough the rear and my tire was scrapping the wheel well. There was no way I would make it to Golfito so I asked at the supermarket for a mechanic and was pointed to one just down the road.

This mechanic, Reynaldo, was fantastic. He was head first deep in a car’s engine when I pulled up. In three hours he had taken everything apart, welded it back together, and placed everything back. He also strummed my guitar for a second. He was a good player. For all his labor, welding, he only wanted twenty dollars. So I gave him forty. It was a relief to have my car fixed properly and to be on my way again. Many times when I think it’s the end it’s only the beginning of something new. God has answered all my prayers for safety.

With the car patched up the ride was a whole lot smoother. No dragging and scraping. Outside of the border town of Pasos Canoas I got a car wash. All the mud finally gone as well as the “FUCK YOU” someone scrawled in the dirt on my roof in Granada. He even cleaned the under carriage and I looked under there to assess the damage from the road. Aside form he scrapes and scratches everything was intact.

While I was waiting on the car I was talking to this guy and I ended up showing how to make stop motion videos with a cellphone video camera. 

I got disoriented at the border because I did not come down the Pan American Highway but up from the south. I pulled up to the cop station and asked a lady wielding a machine gun where customs and immigration were. Exiting Costa Rica was easy. Entering Panama was easy as well. All the services were in one location. I also did not get swamped by hordes of tramitadors offering to get me through for a fee.  Though there was a s guy I had heard about in Golfito named Joel who helped show me around then asked for a tip.  I gave him a five.

I drove all the way to David after unknowingly missing the turn for Puerto Armulles. I’m staying at the Purple House Hostel.  Everything here is purple and Hebrews 13:2 is quoted on the wall outside “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” I met and had dinner with an old man, 69, from Boston. He was really kind of gross. A dirty old man.

09 November 2010

Last night at the hotel I sat on the rear balcony to play my guitar and I met Neil. He is a 43 year old Texan living in Prague and taking some time off in Costa Rica until February. He invited me to the house he is staying at in Playa Pavones. It sounded like a good idea so I accepted.

1. Neil told me to drive North out of Golfito rather than head south which is the correct way. He said this is the way the bus goes. He was wrong and we wasted a few minutes just driving in circles. But I didn’t want to argue and maybe there was some road not on the map. No. He was just wrong. The correct way was to go south.
2. I should’ve gotten gas in Golfito but I didn’t. So I got gas at Conte which was a bit of a headache because I had to get it from a supermarket. They filled it up three large containers and poured them into my car. Then we had to drive 18 kilometers out of our way to Laurel to access an ATM.
3. The reason I needed an ATM was to get money to pay a mechanic. The roads were evil. They were atrocious. Muddy, mucky, gravelly, rocky, washboarded, ridges, potholes. At places I could hear the bottom of my car being scraped away. While getting gas  I saw that the rear driver’s side strut had pushed up through the back again. I could hear the tire scrape against the wheel well. Each meter, each scrape, each ridge filled me with an unimaginable rage. And this rage turned to an absolute hatred when I found out we weren’t going to Playa Pavaones, we were going all the way to the end of the road at Punta Banco. I couldn’t believe it. The distance from Laurel to here is 27 miles and it took near 2 hours to drive 17 miles. Driving here had been a hinderance and has a complete waste of time. Coming here has not helped further my goal or added a fun diversion. Thankfully the owner of this house called a mechanic friend and he will be here soon. As soon as the car is repaired I am leaving.

There is nothing here in Punta Banco. A narrow strip of beach, lots of jungle, and a few homes. Apparently this place is just about inaccessible without a high clearance vehicle though Neil swears the roads aren’t usually as bad as they are now and it’s all due to the rain.

On the way here I got stuck once and a local guy helped up push out. He hacked away at the road with a pickaxe and then was able to push me forward. 

After we got here we had a nice meal and Neil paid for mine. I’m not as livid as I was but I’m not happy at all about this situation.

Yesterday Neil told me that when he leaves Costa Rica in February he’s going to the Congo to hunt for an elusive hallucinogenic plant. He says it helps cure addictions. He dips. I don’t know what else he uses. This should have been my clue to not leave with him.

The mechanic did not come. But apparently he has welding materials and that’s what I need to properly fix my vehicle. I bought a large bottle of rum and a 2 liter of Pepsi, there was no Coke, to sedate myself but Neil and I started watching Inception and then we went out on the beach looking for turtle eggs. A French girl named Julie is the only volunteer working for the turtle hatchery. I saw them leading baby turtles out to the ocean and then Neil and I walked up and down the beach looking for adult turtles. We ended up finding three stray baby turtles and I helped lead them to the ocean. Julie came over and we picked up the turtles and placed them in the ocean. 

It’s been a good night. Such a contrast from the stress of today. But I still need the mechanic and I’m not happy here at all. The shower is barely a trickle. I could hardly wash my body properly. Neil looks nearly identical to Woody Harrelson.

At the store where I bought the rum the storekeeper recommended a mechanic. I’m sure it’s the same guy who Wilber, who owns this place, called. I find that speaking spanish is not so hard but I need more practice and vocabulary.

07 November 2010

Leaving Buenos Aires I waited almost two hours (or so it seemed) to cross where I couldn’t yesterday. I met two people driving from New York City in an old VW van. They are from Holland and are shipping their van back to holland when they get to Panama City. The problem blocking the road was a massive mudslide/river in the road but I got through it okay. Though I had to take a detour and drive through the winding mountain road through San Vito to Ciudad Neilly. The way down the Mountain opened up to an incredible view of the low lying coastal areas. 

Outside of Neilly I hit a pothole and my car stopped. I stopped in front of a house where two fat guys were spray painting a bus white. I asked for gas and they had none. But a taxi driver friend of theirs pulled up and I asked him to help me get gas. But that wasn’t the problem so we went to get a mechanic. He ended up taking the backseat out to access the fuel pump and jerry-rigged some wiring so I could drive back to his shop. At the shop he fixed the problem so I drove down to Golfito. I came to a bar/restaurant (but there’s no restaurant anymore) and its’s apparently a gringo bar but I needed the internet. This guy Glenn, another balding ex-marine, is jealous of me and very vocal about it. He would like to come with me on my trip.

06 November 2010

The road from Dominical to Uvita was mostly cleared. The tree that was blocking the road where I turned around yesterday turned out to be a mudslide. But even if that had not been there I would still have had to turn back just outside of Uvita because a large section of the highway had collapsed leaving a large gaping hole. So it was back to Dominical to the road to San Isdiro. This road twisted up through the misty jungle mountains and down to the central valley where the rain had let up and the blue sky was showing in places. Finally after a week of rain there was some peace. The drive down the Pan American Highway was stop and go due to the numerous mudslides and clean up affairs. At one section a semi was stuck and bent over in thick mud. Just past Buenos Aires the road was blocked and I was told that it would not be cleared until tomorrow so I headed back to Buenos Aires and got a room. It is much nicer than anywhere I have stayed  in a while. The room yesterday was not fully enclosed. Half of the wall was a chain-link fence with only a curtain to protect from the elements. This meant the extreme humidity kept everything drenched and wet. I emailed a proposal to Ford this afternoon asking for help crossing the Panama Canal. Tonight I watched the entire 4 hours of Che parts 1 & 2. Interesting film.

05 November 2010

Today I finally left Jaco and the prison-hostel Nathon’s. It’s funny because online reviews from a few years back make this place out to be a hip swinging place. How time changes things. I stayed so long because of all the rain and flooding. Thirty kilometers down the road the towns of Parrita and Quepos are flooded. Today was the first morning I awoke without there being a heavy rain so I took my chances and escaped. No more being stuck in a dark musty dorm needing the permission of the owner to go out at night . No more wandering around the thin boring strip known as Jaco.

The town of Parrita is still flooded. People stood on the side of the highway staring at their immersed houses. Sections of the road were waterfalls but thankfully not too deep. Water from the field cascading over the road towards the ocean. A metal bridge was washed out. A section of the road had crumbled away and a tractor was clearing away rocks from a mudslide. I bypassed Quepos and headed towards Dominical. I wanted to get as far south as I could. But just outside Dominical the road was closed because a tree huge tree had fallen in it. So I headed back to Dominical in the rain, over mud, around toppled trees, slowly around curves, and down the rocky unpaved slope to Dominical’s main strip. I drove down to the beach away from the center and found a cheap hostel. It is still raining buckets. There is no end in sight. I’m sure the road will be clear by tomorrow so I will try again then.

01 November 2010

Jaco is a small strip-mall of a surfing town south of Puntarenas. The hostel I’m staying in is sad and prison-like. The entrance is a sliding barred door and there is also a barred door separating the front room from the rest of the building. I am the only one here. The owner is an old ex-Marine who has recently gone blind in his right eye due to glaucoma. He had me stand outside in the light to see me. He sized me up to make sure I wasn’t a drug addict or alcoholic. He said he screens everyone. He was watching Fox News and even though he could barely see he knew which anchor was which because he’d been watching for years. His crazy Boston-born friend Miami Mike stopped by and he told the craziest story about his last trip back to the states. He said he was on a plane and he blacked out and when he came to he was in a hospital. Also just before that he saw people following him. 

There are eight beds in the dorm. Four on each side of the room. The bottom bunks run together so that I can’t imagine it would be comfortable having a taller person sleep next to you because his feet would  be sticking in your bed and there’d be nothing you could do about it. The owner said business was down sharply. Only had ten people last month and made $85 the whole month. 

It is raining hard here. A torrential downpour.

31 October 2010

Today I left san Juan del Sur, I stayed for nine days.  Nine worthless days just hanging around doing nothing. It was way past time to leave. Driving to the border I saw Ometepe Island, both volcanoes wrapped in clouds. It took two and a half hours to finish  everything. There were two long lines at immigration and customs in Nicaragua. At immigration they wanted two dollars not cordobas so I had to find someone to change my money. I gave them a twenty dollar bill and when they tried to give me change in Cordobas I told them no, dollars only, just to be a jerk. So they tried to make me take back my twenty dollar bill. After about three minutes he got proper change and handed back my passport. During this time the tramitador who was supposed to be helping me disappeared and I got away without having to pay him.

At the Costa Rican border a mute ran up to me and helped show me around. A sign out front says proof of onward passage, plane or bus ticket, is required.  I showed them my car title and got my passport stamped. In Nicaragua customs is in a building far from immigration. In Costa Rica customs is across the street but after they inspected the car I had to drive to a seemingly isolated warehouse to get my vehicle permit. I gave the mute a five. The exchange rate is extremely awkward, 530 Colones for $1. Not as simple a rate as Nicaragua or Guatemala. 

I drove all the way to Puntarenas. This town is gritty and dirty. Lots of trash in the streets. Most of the shops were closed too. There’s a cruise ship in the harbour. It was a breath of fresh air to go for a walk and eat dinner in a new place by myself. I had baked garlic sea-bass for dinner. I was going to buy a hand-rolled cigar I saw on the way to dinner but they had shut down and vanished by the time I walked by. All the shops were shutting down. It seems like everywhere is the same. People on the street with booths set up to hawk jewellery, t-shirts, sunglasses. and a million little trinkets no one needs.

It is definitely better to travel alone and not be with anyone. I cannot say I won’t meet more travellers but I should do my best to meet less.

28 October 2010

The power was on this morning. I took a shower and headed to El Gato Negro for breakfast. The Norwegian girls were there and I sat with them.

27 October 2010

Woke up around 11 a.m. and had lunch with Gerry at El Gato Negro before he left for Granada. Spent the rest of the day at the hostel napping in a hammock or trying to read. For dinner four of us guys went out to a Mexican restaurant to watch the world series. I do not care for sports or for doing such American things as watching sports while I’m here but it was comfortable. Jim, an older guy from Boston, was explaining to Paul, an Irishman, the rules of baseball. Later that night the power went out in town and Jim and I watched a movie, Lenny, about Lenny Bruce. Today there was a parade of trucks with a presidential candidate visiting. Arnoldo Alemán.

26 October 2010

This is the first day in San Juan del Sur in which I did not spend all day in bed recovering from a late night of drinking and dancing. That’s because we went home early last night.

This morning at ten Gerry, Paul, Helena, Ana, Sigma, and I all hiked up to the large statue of Jesus overlooking the town. The walk was only 90 minutes but part of the path was very steep to walk up. There are two large Rottweilers at the entrance gate guarding from vandals. The view from the side of the mountain is gorgeous. You can see all the green hilly countryside and the reefs in the ocean. 

We only stayed for about 30 minutes then hiked down the other side to the beach and back into town. The tide was low but my shoes got soaked crossing a small stream pouring into the ocean. We all had lunch at the market then went out separate ways. I dropped off some laundry and headed to El Gato Negro for coffee. I also had a detox bomb smoothie. I met two Jehovah’s Witness ladies who had moved here from Hawaii. They had Watchtower magazines and left them amongst the other magazines in the cafe.

Later that night Gerry got into a heated discussion with the sports bar owner (Republik) about America and why America sucks. Gerry says he wants to talk about girls and he likes simple music that doesn’t require you to think but he cannot be so simple. All his conversations turn to politics or something learned. He is a very intelligent individual. He’s an Irishman from Kerry.

25 October 2010

Stayed in hostel sleeping and in bed all day. Went out for dinner. Met a girl I’d met earlier and had dinner with her. Then to the Iguana for drinks where we met other people. 

24 October 2010

Stayed in my bed mostly all day sleeping and on the internet. Went out and at a show a guy was playing “Piss Up a Rope” by Ween. Went to see live music at another club. I have been here way too long.

23 October 2010

Today I spent most of the day in my room in bed. I went out to buy some water and powerade and came back for a nap. Went out for dinner but probably ate something too heavy and my stomach is not well.

22 October 2010

Left Granada and came to San Juan del Sur. Walked around town a bit after getting a hostel then took a nap. Had dinner at an American sports bar.  I didn’t realize it till I’d ordered a drink. The owners are from Wilmington, N.C.. Met two guys at the hostel. One played my guitar very well. We all went out for drinks and came back late.

In Granda someone wrote "Fuck You" on the roof of my car.

21 October 2010

Last night I met at the hostel a guy from Chicago named Jake and a guy from Australia named Patrick and we hung out for a bit and then went to a bar for an hour where we met a friend of Patrick's who said he lost all his money playing Pokerville. He plays poker online for a living.  

I decided to stay in Grenada for another day to research shipping from Panama to Colombia and buy a few things. I had breakfast at Kathy’s Waffle House and the owner, Sandy, came out to meet me. I was reading my bible while waiting for my food and he asked if I was a Jew. He had a huge star of David ring. After breakfast I explored the cathedral across the street then walked to Lake Grenada. I took a boat tour of the lake which I did not intend to take. There was an American couple and two Nicaraguan sisters. The tour was around the tiny islands and was mostly a tour of summer homes of the rich and famous and powerful of Nicaragua. There was an island with monkeys.

I bought a tape measure and mirror and tape at the market then got on the internet for a while before I had dinner at a guy named Dan’s house. Sophie cooked with Dan and I hung out with Nancy and Jake. Chicken cordon bleu, fish, mashed potatoes, red wine. The corkscrew was broken and the bottle of white shattered and the bottle of red ended up having bits of cork in it but I used a coffee filter to filter the wine into glasses. I talked with Sophie into the morning just past one.

20 October 2010

This morning at 5:46 a.m. I was woken by the crow of a rooster but I was able to fall back asleep for another hour and a half. On the way to the Nicaraguan border I was stopped by the transit police three times. The first two times they searched my car and the third time the cop wanted money for some imaginary fine and infraction. It took me a while to realize this before I told him I had no money to give him. Then he gave me my papers back and let me go.

The border was uneventful. I bought insurance for $12 and gave the tramitador $5 for his help.

Rented a room at the Bearded Monkey Hostel and walked around Granada. Visited the Cocoa Museum and had chocolate tea. Walked thought the market and bought a new band for my watch, a converter for my lap top plug from three prongs to two, and duct tape. The market was crowded with all kinds of food products, hygiene products, and bootleg DVDs being sold. I regret not buying Wall-E 2 which was Short Circuit repackaged. I turned the corner and a guy shouted out laughing “Osama bin Laden!”

  

Grenada is an old crumbling city with narrow streets. There are no stop signs or stop lights. People are everywhere as are horse carriages. It is a lively place. For dinner I ate at a place called Imagine. It is a John Lennon themed restaurant. I met a guy from Chicago who plays guitar here and also lives here.

19 October 2010

When I left Costa del Sol in the morning all my clothes were laid out inside the car because they had not yet dried. The road to Honduras led through the winding mountains around San Vincente past the volcano through the city and up more steep mountains. The road led past incredible vistas of San Vincente and farmlands and valleys. In San Miguel I stopped to get my oil changed. The guy in charge spoke good English because he had lived in Joplin Missouri for three years. He only left because his girlfriend cheated on him with his uncle. El Salvadorans rake out long patches of corn on the side of the road for reasons I do not know.

At the border in El Amatillo I stopped behind a long line of trucks and my car was immediately swarmed by five or six men clamoring to help me cross the border. Flashing their badges and shouting in Spanish. One man spoke English and told me to follow him past the line of semis. He hopped in the back of a pickup and we headed toward the border. The trucks weren’t moving or being waited on at all. I showed my papers to customs and proceeded to the immigration then across the border to Honduras.

I was led to customs where the guy who took me across the border left, vanished and another guy appeared. It was this guy who led me to where I needed to go and helped me photocopy all the documents. The Honduras customs agent needed several copies of everything he handed to me in addition to the photocopies of my documents  I already had. I am glad I made copies of everything in the U.S. but they are still not enough. I did not want to hire a tramitador but I would not have known where to go as each office was in a different building so I happily gave the guy L200 which is $10. Then the guy that disappeared showed up wanting money too. After a long back and forth hassle I begrudgingly gave him L25 or $1. After getting my vehicle sprayed for insects, handing my paperwork to the police, and having the police inspect my vehicle again, I was able to drive into Honduras.

The road is very good and there are not many potholes. Twice I was pulled over by transit police. Each time they wanted money or a gift but they let me go without me giving them either.

In San Lorenzo I spotted two Mormon missionaries and did a sharp u-turn to ask for directions to the nearest ATM. The missionary seemed surprised to see me but gave me directions to the grocery store where the ATM is located.

After withdrawing enough money I headed south to Cedeño which is on a large bay surrounded by mountains. The hotel here is bare minimum. The shower and bathroom are separate from the rooms and instead of a shower I will have to scoop water with a bowl and pour it over myself. Along the beach I found  dead sea-turtle. I asked for directions to the internet cafe but the man was wrong. There is no internet cafe here. But there are two video game cafes. In one of them children were crowded around a Super Mario Bros 3 arcade machine. For dinner I had camarones and huevo tortugas which were served as a spicy drink and not cooked in any way. Very slimy and disgusting but I was able to down two of the three eggs.

There is a man here who lived in Charlotte, Connecticut, Texas, and other places in the U.S. for ten years. Eating dinner and watching the sunset is beautiful and relaxing. Cedeño is on the Golfo de Fonseca. There was a tiny frog in the bathwater. At the border many people called out “Osama Bin Laden!” So I won’t be getting away from any stereotypes or laughs about my beard. I hope this does not turn into a problem.

I played pool next door to the hotel for about two hours. I did not realize how early it was. We played American pool and nine-ball and Honduras pool which is like nine-ball but with all the balls. They set up the balls like this:

(the handwritten journal has a drawing here)

and you shoot them in in order. I paid for every game but it was real cheap so I didn’t mind. One of the ladies who works there used to live in Memphis in the early eighties. I had to wake up the owner of the hotel to get back in and I asked here for another, larger blanket. There was a huge toad in the room where the blankets are kept. Earlier the parking attendant offered me a girl to sleep with but I declined. There is no way to lock the room from the inside so I placed a chair against the door.