"This is definitely the wrong road.........."

After a few miles the beautiful tarmac ran out and we hit a dirt road. I pulled up and knew instantly I had taken the wrong road. Looking at the map, it was clear that this dirt track would eventually take us to Antigua, but it would be much longer and obviously more demanding. Had I been riding solo, I would have just turned around and got back on the main road but Mark was clearly relishing the prospect of a another dirt adventure,

“It`ll be O.K. And you know what, it`s good practice. You can`t avoid dirt all the way to Tierra Del Fuego!” He said, his face beaming. If I had my way, I`d ride paved roads all the way, I thought.

“O.K. let`s do it”

For the first few miles the track wasn`t too bad and then it turned a little rougher where they were carrying out some road maintenance, and it was at this point that I hit some heavier dirt, lost control and came off the bike. Cursing furiously at the stupidity, I had a quick check of the bike and with the help of some of the road workers picked it up, but as I was about to get back on noticed a slight pain in my right ankle. The anger and adrenaline masked the pain for a while but it was obvious I had sprained or twisted it and that was going to be a problem.

“******g dirt!” I screamed in my helmet, as images of my "altercation" with the Dalton Highway flashed through my mind. I just couldn`t afford a repeat of that incident. I hadn`t been this angry in nearly 4 months on the road. If only I hadn`t missed the turning.

I was still pretty furious with myself 20 minutes later as we finally arrived in Antigua. Our 1/2 hours ride had become nearly 6 hours.





Antigua was indeed a beautiful old colonial town surrounded by three volcanoes. Every street was made of badly laid, heavy cobbles and I winced as we bounced over them sending a regular, painful reminder of my recent carelessness.

It was also clear that Antigua was a very much on the tourist map as many of the expensive hotels advertised their rates in dollars. Passing up the very nice, but pricy $60 a night options, we found a much cheaper, but far more basic accommodation and settled there, negotiating a deal for the next 6 nights. I unpacked quickly and Mark went in search of some ice for my throbbing ankle. An ice pack and two Ibuprofens later, we went out in search of food and a much needed beer.

Antigua is a lovely place to chill out, wander around, shop, eat good food and drink some of the best coffee anywhere in the world. All of the above we did for the next few days, hampered only by my lack of mobility and therefore, the unfortunate need to endure those awful, bone shaking, Tuk Tuks . After all the appalling weather we had suffered since we entered Central America, we were blessed with a system of high pressure for our stay and every day we were greeted with beautiful sunshine and pleasant breezes. Sadly, Mark missed out on a couple of those days, for some reason preferring to indulge his love affair with Tequila! Being a relative light weight drinker, I had to abandon him on one of his attempts at all night partying. We decided afterwards that it wasn`t good for either of us to be wandering back to our hotel alone, since much of Central America can be unsafe after dark, and as laid back as Antigua is, common sense needed to prevail.

My next stop was going to be Guatemala City, which would be an altogether different proposition. Everything we had heard about the city was pretty frightening stuff. “No go areas” where gang warfare was rife, shootings, muggings, violence, etc. It was clearly a city where it might well prove fatal to take a wrong turning. This had been preying on both our minds, so I had to figure out a strategy to get to the city, couch surf for two days, securely store my bike for two weeks and get a flight to Costa Rica where I was to meet up with a VIP who was flying out from England.

As has often been the case, people turn up at the right time to help you out. An English ex pat called Dave runs a motorcycle touring company in Antigua and kindly agreed to store my bike in his property for the two weeks. Perfect! So now, I just have to get safely to Guatemala City for my couch surfing stay, get to the airport and get back again.

I must admit that I try not to over react to the many scare stories about dangerous countries and cities, but as I researched a hotel near the airport (just in case I needed a back up) it made pretty grim reading. The hotel was now part of a secure compound, in fact, this is what the hotel had to say,

“VERY IMPORTANT -PLEASE READ FOR SECURITY REASONS, THE NEIGHBORHOOD WHERE DOS LUNAS IS LOCATED (AURORA II) IS NOW GATED. PEOPLE COMING IN A FLIGHT WILL BE MET BY OUR DRIVER AT THE AIRPORT. TAXIS AND SHUTTLE DRIVERS THAT COME TO AURORA II, WILL BE REQUESTED TO SHOW THEIR VALID ID. IF YOU PLAN TO WALK, PLEASE LET US KNOW, WE CAN MEET YOU AT THE AIRPORT. WE STRONGLY ENCOURAGE YOU NOT TO TAKE PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION BECAUSE THEY ARE NOT SAFE AT THE MOMENT. ALSO FOR YOUR OWN SECURITY, PLEASE TRY TO MAKE YOUR BOOKING DIRECTLY AND IN ADVANCE IF IT IS POSSIBLE, YOU CAN CALL US OR EMAIL US. TRY NOT TO USE OTHER PEOPLE TO DO IT, WE HAVE IMPORTANT INFORMATION TO SHARE WITH YOU WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE INCONVINIENCE, BUT IT WILL BE A SAFER NEIGHBORHOOD FOR YOU, AND FOR ALL OF US.”

Mmmm, certainly provided food for thought as I packed my bag and jumped on a "Chicken Bus" for the short, but slightly nerve wracking ride to Guatemala City.

Guatemalan chicken bus drivers are fearless or reckless, depending upon your point of view; either way, they tear around bends at breakneck speeds in ex American school buses that have clearly seen much better days. Their motto must be, “In God we trust”, because every one of them is packed with religious artefacts. Every journey is a leap of faith – well it certainly was for me.

I`d arranged to meet my couch surfing host, Luis, at a big shopping mall in the city. The plan was to spend a couple of days in the city and then catch a plane to Costa Rica. I didn`t get a chance to see much of the city because Luis obviously had to work, and although his house was behind an armed, secure compound it wasn`t located in an area conducive to walking around! However, we did get a chance to experience his favourite bar in the centro historico.

“La Otra Puerta” is a very bohemian place, serving typical Guatemalan food, and an interesting line in DIY decoration. The entire place was covered from floor to ceiling with graffiti from all over the world. Here`s a place where you`re actually encouraged to write on the walls! Needless to say I obliged, and my “Journey for Hope” is now recorded for posterity (or as long as the building lasts).