"It`s not over till the fat lady sings........!"

After a week of running through all the possible outcomes and "What ifs" I finally got the feedback from Nick Birch, the back specialist in the U.K.

“The possible risks of continuing your journey are, recurrence of pain, and needing more treatment in countries where that might be difficult to access. The worst case is that the problem, i.e. your pain, doesn’t settle and that the trip is then effectively over. I would suggest that to begin with, you ride less hours a day and take regular breaks to stretch your back. . ……………. you won’t cause any further actual damage to your spine by continuing to ride, although you might get a recurrence of symptoms because of the ordinary wear and tear changes in your back being irritated by bouncing along rutted roads. “

No mention at all of Montserrat Caballe (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PomIF3s2-OY - 130k) So that was it. “The Journey for Hope” was back on the road!

With a commitment to exercise religiously every day, I decided I would just keep going and see how far I could go. Anything after Panama was going to be a bonus.

Getting back on the bike after a break of nearly 5 weeks was a strange experience. I approached every speed bump and pothole with extra caution. I had planned to ride north from Antigua,through Guatemala City and head for the small island town of Flores. From there I could take the short trip to Tikal the site of the biggest Mayan ruins in Central America.

I decided to break the journey in the small town of Rio Dulce which was still a longer ride than I would have liked and by the time I arrived there I was tired and my back was aching. (If I was Ewen McGregor I would have a back up crew of a masseuse and a mechanic.)

Rio Dulce was a favourite stopover for the affluent, yachting set, so obviously I fit in perfectly.

I was up early the following day for the relatively short 3 hour ride to Flores. In Flores I was due to meet up with another American rider who was heading the same way. Lenny was riding his Kawasaki 650 all the way to Tierra Del Fuego so it made sense to ride together for a while. While I was waiting for Lenny to arrive I was apprehended by a Guatemalan TV crew who wanted to “interview” me (there was obviously no one else around!) about my views on Flores. The interview was brief. I think “Muy bonita” figured heavily.



Shortly after, Lenny arrived, and as we discussed our past experiences and future plans over a beer or two it was clear that Belize was in Lenny`s plans. Belize wasn`t even on my original route, but when he said he was going there, I thought, why not, a short hop across the border and another border crossing would be good practice.

Belize is a strange country. The only Central American country where everything is written in English and everyone speaks English, they even have the Queen on all their bank notes.

The border crossing was easy and marred only by Christmas songs blasting out of the two little speakers on the customs desk.Belize customs and Nat King Cole? It seemed rather incongruous until I realised that we were well into November, and back in the U.K. this would have been happening in every store throughout the country for weeks.

Twenty minutes from the border we arrived in the town of San Ignacio. Within minutes someone approached us and “guided” us to “Nefry`s Retreat” which turned out to be a cheap and clean (well, only one dead cockroach under my bed) hotel. The following day Lenny took off to the islands and I decided to spend a couple of days resting, exercising and attempting to fix an electrical problem.

The recurring issue with the horn not working had returned and was further compounded by the headlight not working. Both of which were pretty critical to safe riding. They had to be fixed. I stripped off the panels and did what I always do in these situations, poke around a little and scratch my head a lot. It`s never really been the best strategy and this time proved equally fruitless. I was still debating what to do as I sipped on my beer in a local bar when a lively group of people beckoned me to join them. The rest of the night was spent in the company of Phil and Maria.

Phil was from the U.S. and was involved in real estate, spending his time developing land in Belize and commuting back to the U.S. Maria, was a Russian accountant who now lived in New York and had travelled extensively. Both had fascinating stories to tell. When I explained what I was doing there and my electrical problem, Phil said,

“You should try Mad Dog”

“Mad Dog?”

“Yea, he`s the best mechanic in town. Everyone calls him Mad Dog”

The Mad Dog and the Englishman

And so the next day, in the mid day sun, the Englishman went to find Mad Dog.

“Hi, I`m looking for Mad Dog”, I said to the man under the bonnet of a car.

“You`ve found him!”

It turned out that Nat (aka Mad Dog) had ridden from Alaska with his son, two years before, but ran out of money in Guyana where his bike still remains. I explained my situation to him.

“Yea, that`ll be no problem. Bring it by this afternoon and I`ll take a look”

I rode the bike up that afternoon and left feeling confident that it would be fixed by the next day. In the evening I headed back to my favourite bar to meet up with my new friends Maria and Phil for a farewell drink (to be honest, several farewell drinks). The following day Phil was off back to the States for Thanksgiving and Maria was going to the islands.

True to his word, the following day, my bike was ready and waiting. Mad Dog had worked his magic and found the faulty relay. His wife Debbie gave me a card with contact details saying,

“If you get into trouble anywhere just call us or e mail and I`m sure he can help you”

I rode off reflecting on how comforting it must be for someone like Nat to know that whatever goes wrong with the bike he could fix it or at least confidently diagnose the problem. Not for the first time I wished I had more technical competence instead of relying on others to help me out. But, “it is what it is”, I reminded myself as I headed for more help with my other priority – my body.

Shortly after arriving in San Ignacio I came across a sign for a massage therapist and decided my back could do with some attention. Gretel turned out to be an excellent masseuse who gave my back a thorough deep tissue (and painful) going over.

“What are you doing in Belize?” she enquired.

I explained about the “Journey for Hope” and my recent problems.

“When are you leaving?”

“In a day or two”

“Come and see me before you go and I`ll give you a complimentary back massage”

So now my bike was fixed, I made my way to see Gretel and get my body fixed.

"Healing Hands" and Hope..............

I arrived back in Antigua early in the morning after another bone shaking ride in the Chicken Bus. Before I`d left for the city I`d noticed a sign for X rays and ultra sound so I made my way down there and enquired as to how I could go about organizing a X ray. I was informed that first I would have to see a doctor and then if they agreed I could have the necessary X ray. Later that day I returned and proceeded to wait for over 2 hours until at last I got to see the doctor who of course spoke no English! I managed to explain in Spanish what the problem was and she agreed to sign off the X ray.

40 mins later I sat in her office as she interpreted what she saw. It didn`t sound good and it certainly didn`t look good. She pointed out that the gap between the first and second vertebrae was very small. If it got smaller due to more impact and punishment on my back it could be very serious.

I got the message.




Before sending it back to England for a second (and third) opinion, I`d discovered a physiotherapist in Antigua who came highly recommended, so I took it to Micky Morrison of “Healing Hands” who basically confirmed in English what the doctor had said.

“Can you fix it?” I asked, desperately hoping for a positive answer.

“We need to re-align your pelvis and then work on strengthening your core muscles. Yes, I think we can definitely help”

Those few positive words gave me some hope, and if there is one thing I`ve learned on this journey, it`s that you`ve got to hang on to hope.

When I decided to call this trip the “Journey for hope”, I`d no idea how significant that word was going to become.

Whether I could rehab to a sufficient level to finish the journey was still an unknown factor. I was hoping a further analysis back in the U.K. would give me a better idea. With that in mind I went straight to the DHL branch in Antigua and sent the X rays back home. The whole process would take 3 working days and then several more days before I could get the feedback I needed.

Rather than sit around with my thoughts in turmoil and major decisions to be made, I decided to stay in Antigua for the next 2 weeks and embark upon an intensive rehabilitation programme in the mornings, and in the afternoon I would sign up for intensive Spanish lessons.

I might as well get some benefit from my enforced sojourn.

The news from the U.K. was inconclusive.

“He says you really need an MRI scan because the X ray wasn`t clear enough”, Jane told me after having sweet talked her way into seeing Northampton`s best back specialist.

Back at “Healing Hands”, I asked Micky where I could get an MRI scan done,

“In Guatemala City. Let me call a doctor I know and arrange for an appointment”.

And so, the next day I was on my way to the city for a consultation with another back specialist with an MRI scan lined up for an hour later. The following day I was back in his office as he explained to me, half in English and half in Spanish, that I had a degenerative disease which was not uncommon and I should exercise everyday.

“You should continue with your activities, but if the pain gets very high you will have to stop and have surgery”

Continue with your activities……?

This all sounded very positive but I wasn`t sure whether he really understood what my “activities” entailed on this journey. But again, there was a ray of hope that all was not lost.

Maybe I could finish the journey after all.



On the drive back, my mind was racing through all the possible scenarios. Over the past two weeks I had been on an emotional rollercoaster as I tried to come to terms with my predicament and had virtually got my mind around the fact that it was over.

Now, maybe it wasn`t?

If I continue and risk it, what happens if I have a similar problem in Bolivia or Peru miles from good medical back up?

And will my back take the constant punishment from or poor roads even if I exercise every day?

If I have another fall from the bike, how will that affect my already weakened back?

With so many questions and no concrete answers I posted my scan back to the U.K. for Nick the back specialist to analyse. I decided I would trust his prognosis and follow whatever advice he was going to give. This would give me another week of deep thought and contemplation.

My options were clear:

1.I make it to Panama and fly home

2.I`m given the green light to head for Argentina.

In one week I would know.