[YEAR 7!] Quit our jobs, sold our home, gone riding...

Frank

Explorer
Such an inspiring read and a trip I hope to one day do!

I think its sad that we think of Mexico as drug lords and gangs, as we only see it on the media outlets.

Did you try any coffees from the region? I buy lots of green coffee from that area which I roast at home and enjoy it! Guatemala has fantastic coffee!
 
I think its sad that we think of Mexico as drug lords and gangs, as we only see it on the media outlets.

It takes a certain kind of person willing to see past a lot of the sensationalist media hype around the violence and actually search for the truth from people who actually live there or have travelled through. I'll admit I was not one of these people, and when we approached the Mexican border, Neda was a bit angry at me because I was stalling, hemming and hawing about the safety issue.

In the end there was no need to worry, Mexico has been one of our favorite countries to ride through.

Did you try any coffees from the region? I buy lots of green coffee from that area which I roast at home and enjoy it! Guatemala has fantastic coffee!

I know, but unfortunately, neither Neda or I are coffee drinkers. So ironic, isn't it?
 
Updated from http://www.RideDOT.com/rtw/86.html on March 14, 2013

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We never wanted this trip to be a trek. We didn't want our blog to read "xx miles, xx countries in xx days" because that was like all our other motorcycle trips, rushing through exotic countries and only seeing the 200 feet on either side of the road as we sped towards the end of our allotted vacation days for the year.

Unfortunately, we had made an appointment many months ago, that at the time seemed to give us a lot of leeway to meander on our journey. Lately, the clock has started ticking down and we find ourselves running out of runway, as there are a couple thousand kms and 5 border crossings we have to make in the next 10 days. Impossible, given our current pace.

We've made the decision to come straight back to Central America after our appointment - there is just too much that we're missing. So I've condensed the next week and a half of travels into a single entry because it sucks too much to spend a lot of time on it. And also we didn't really see anything...

Here are some notes on our trip down the PanAmerican Highway:

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Taking the dog out for a spin

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Group ride out of Pana!

We left hastily out of Pana. In the rush, I lost a really good pair of earphones. I know, blah blah, first world problems... We feel like we're being torn away from Guatemala without having seen everything we wanted to see, so this is exactly where we're going to return to, to resume our Central American tour.

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Accident on the PanAm in Guatemala

The PanAmerican Highway is not really one defined road, but a collection of routes that span from Prudhoe Bay in Alaska all the way to the southern tip of Argentina. Despite many detours along the way, we've basically followed the PanAm on our trip after criss-crossing Canada. Through Central America, it's a fairly well-maintained stretch of pavement with some interesting sections that pass through mountains and volcanoes, but on our return, it would be nice to see what else lies off this well-beaten path.

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Aduana at the El Salvador border

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Aduana is Spanish for "nap"

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Finally, we're through!

Crossing into El Salvador, we are delayed because the Vehicle Importation Computer is down. We sit for four hours waiting for the system to come back up and by the time we get through the border, the sun is getting lower in the sky. We don't want to travel at night, so in desperation we book into an Auto Hotel just outside of San Salvador.

The infamous Auto Hotel in Central America is also called a Love Hotel, and is usually rented out by the hour, if you get what I mean... Each room has its own private garage with a door that closes. We thought it was for security, but it's really to hide the license plate of the car parked there for a few hours.

All communication with hotel staff is done through a small cupboard at one end of the room with doors inside the room and outside into the office. You never have to see or speak to staff, just deposit your money in the cupboard, close the door, they open it on the other side and deposit towels and soaps (and condoms) for you. Mirrors are strategically placed beside the bed and there is a paper towel dispenser within reach to clean up any messes.

I thought it was hilarious! Neda was kinda grossed out. We slept in the one remaining sleeping bag that wasn't stolen back in Guatemala...

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Our most memorable crossing, and not for good reasons... Honduras

El Salvador came and went in a day, and I was battling fatigue because I didn't get a good night's sleep in the Love Hotel. I must have also picked up a flu overnight, but we forged ahead to the Honduras. Despite it being very early in the day, I wanted to stop and find a place to sleep before reaching the border to recuperate, but Neda was convinced we could cross two borders in one day and reach Nicaragua for the evening. I wasn't feeling up to it, but since Neda was doing all the work at the immigration and customs offices, my only duty was to stay conscious and keep the bike upright.

As we approached Honduras, we were swarmed by a mob of "helpers" offering to speed us through all the red tape for a fee. Most dropped away when they heard Neda's fluent Spanish, but one hung on despite our polite refusal, following us from office to office peppering us with helpful tips and hints, hoping to guilt us into paying him... Nice try...

Through my feverish haze, I saw Neda run back and forth through 3 or 4 different offices trying to get our bikes stamped into the country. Everytime I asked what she was doing, she replied, "Making photocopies!" Apparently, in this day and age when EVERYTHING is computerized, Central American governments have invested heavily in shares of Xerox and Domtar...

I was in charge of holding the documents as we biked from immigration to customs. When you carry everything you own on a motorcycle, every item has its place. Because we were changing our routine, I was now keeping our documents in my tankbag instead of in one of the lockable cases. Which meant that my motorcycle gloves, which I normally keep in my tankbag, were now in... I still have no idea...

Those were really good gloves, too.

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Motoring through Honduras - elapsed time in the country: 2.5 hours

We raced through the tiny stretch of the PanAm in Honduras and reached the Nicaraguan border very late in the day and I was a bit upset that we would be riding through the dark to reach the hotel we had reserved. Throughout the last couple of days, we've been bickering at each other, especially at border crossings. It's a stressful time getting yourselves through, much less importing a vehicle into the country as well. I was dealing with a flu and feeling frustrated that I was unable to help because of my inadequate Spanish. Add to it that I'm not coping very well with the heat and humidity and Neda doesn't cope very well when she's hungry...

This is not fun for either of us. It's not even fun writing this down and I just want to end this entry but it's important to have a record of all this "not fun" later. Much later...

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Aduana at Nicaragua

Some helpers approach us at the Nicaraguan border, but not as many as at the Honduras. It seems that the Honduran border is the most complicated process to negotiate in Central America, and the number of helpers reflect that. El Salvador was easy - no helpers there. So now when we approach a new border crossing, we can gauge how easy it will be by how many helpers swarm us! Useful, practical information!

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Nicaragua. yay. *yawn*

Having knocked down 3 of 5 border crossings, we bought ourselves a little downtime - especially for me to get over my flu. We stopped for a few nights in Estelie, Nicaragua - actually for a couple of nights longer than we expected we would because I gave Neda my flu. So we were both bedridden at the same time. OMG, so much UnFUN, I can't handle it!

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Motoring through Nicaragua

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"Hello Muddah, Hello Fadduh, Here I am at..."

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Perhaps the only picture we took of Granada. Didn't see a thing...

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Next border, Costa Rica. Didn't see a thing. But it was the most expensive nothing we saw...

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Somwhere along the way, it got cold and foggy on the PanAm. Literally: didn't see a thing...

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By this time, Neda is a pro at border crossings, so this was one of the easier ones

We arrived in Panama licking our wounds. So far over the last week and a half, we've both gotten sick, I've lost a pair of earphones and a pair of motorcycle gloves, left my credit card in a restaurant and had to have it couriered back to us while we were en route, saw nothing but road, took no pictures... All because we're rushing to meet a deadline. This was not why we left our jobs and sold everything! We vowed, no more booking stuff in advance, even if it's months away! Just one day at a time from now on. If that means missing out on some opportunities tomorrow, that's okay as long as we don't have to rush through today. It's just not worth it.

On an upbeat note, all these border-crossing ordeals have been good practice for when we return to see Central America properly! Neda is going to try to make a few bucks on the side being a helper...

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Drummers practicing in Panama City

For the last few months, we've been in constant contact with Kari and Rose, the fellow Canadian bikers who we met in Oaxaca. They were also in Panama City, so we spent a few days comparing notes, exchanging GPS files and sharing a few meals together. It was nice having some familiar faces to hang out with.

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Bikes get their first bath in months

While in Panama City, we took time to get everything sorted out - shopping for supplies and taking care of the motorcycles. We dropped into the local BMW dealership to replace the gloves I lost at the Honduran border. While we were there, we popped into the service centre to see if they had the plug for my headlight. They didn't have the part in stock, but the technician told me to bring the bike in anyway.

Less than an hour later, he had fixed the light, jury-rigging it with a couple of blade connectors! Best part, it was free of charge! So let's end this entry on a happy note! Yay!
 
Update from http://www.RideDOT.com/rtw/87.html on March 29, 2013

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We're here for our scheduled appointment.

Google Maps tells us that there is no way to get from North America to South America by road. The Darien Forest, or Darien Gap, starts at the southern tip of Panama and runs all the way to Colombia. Apparently, this a real life Forest of Despair, but instead of Rodents of Unusual Sizes, they have Poison Arrow Dart Frogs! And no fireswamp or lightning sand, but plenty of Marxist Guerillas with Gun of Unusual Sizes!

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We turn off the PanAm Highway, and take a windy road through thick Panamanian rain forests

The PanAmerican Highway stops at the edge of the Darien Forest. Despite several construction attempts, no road connects the two continents because of the ecological damage it would cause to the indigenous tribes and wildlife that live there, and the governments involved do not want to create an easy path for drug smugglers to traffic narcotics from Colombia up to North America.

Interestingly, the Darien Gap has also prevented the spread of diseases from South America into Central and North America, like foot and mouth disease.

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Everywhere in Central America, our GPSes fascinate the locals

There are only two ways to cross the Darien Gap, by sea or by air. We opt for the water option, so we have to travel a couple of hours from Panama City to a pier at the deserted Carti Airport, on the Caribbean coast of Panama. The road twists through miles of lush, green jungles and of course, because we washed the bikes in Panama City the day before, it rains on us...

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Parked on the shores of Carti beach, our ride waiting in the distance

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Talking with Cornelius, another moto-nomad from Australia

We're travelling with a lot of familiar faces on this leg of our journey. We met Trevor at the Horizons Unlimited meeting in California last October, and saw Cornelius there as well but didn't get a chance to speak to him. I had a feeling we would get to know everyone on board a lot better in the next few days!

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The Stahlratte, German for "Steel Rat", is a pirate ship, capable of escaping FARC Insurgents and making the Kessel Run in less than 12 parsecs

After a lot of research, we chose the Stahlratte to cross the Darien Gap. This is the appointment we were rushing through Central America to make. It started life 110 years ago as a fishing vessel and has lived many lives since then, from a Rainbow Warrior for Greenpeace till now, a Round-The-World sailboat that has gotten "stuck" in the Caribbean, living the sun-drenched dream and ferrying passengers between Panama, Colombia and the islands in between for the last 8 years to fund its voyage.

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Dinghies and small boats carry supplies and our luggage from the shore to the Stahlratte

Because we have a small window of time reserved to use the pier to load the motorcycles, we use most of the morning to remove all the luggage off our bikes and transport them onboard, where we're treated to a quick lunch - the first of many famously delicious Stahlratte meals - before going back on shore and prepping the bikes.

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Carb loading first, then bike loading next!

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Our luggage arrives by dinghy and is brought into the hold of the ship

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Back on shore, bikes are lined up on the pier ready to be brought on board

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We lined up last. If anything went wrong, it'd be easier to back out that way!

There is no ramp to ride or push the motorcycles on-board. Everything has to be done off a narrow pier. We watched everyone else's motorcycles get winched up by a pulley off the pier and then over the edge of the deck of the ship. The hired hands seemed to be very experienced and capable and I felt a lot better when it came to our turn.

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Watching the Stahlratte pull into the pier, ready to eat our motorcycles

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Ludwig, our fearless captain supervises the loading

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My baby is getting closer to the front of the line and she's getting nervous!

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This is how it starts out...

In our haste to get back on shore to help line the bikes up for loading, we didn't notice that the only ones left on the ship were the women. So there were 12 guys on shore rolling the motorcycles on the pier and 4 women on the boat lifting the bikes over the side of the boat onto deck. They were the ones doing all the real work! We (nervously) cheered them on from the pier...

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Then up goes my bike!

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Had a little problem getting my big pig over the edge of the boat, so down it went and the rope was shortened...

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All bikes on deck, we're ready to set sail!

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Gene: "Second star to the right, and straight on till morning!?"
Ludwig: "No... we use a GPS on the Stahlratte."


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Getting familiar with our home for the next few days

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Big sigh of relief. The Master Planner gets a break for a few days!

Neda has been an absolute superstar over the last few months. She has planned pretty much all of our travels through Central America, doing extra duty handling the border crossings with her fluency in Spanish. For the next few days, our schedules are in the hands of the crew of the Stahlratte. Instead of having to plan for routes, search for accommodations and forage for food, we will be told when to eat and where to sleep, and all of a sudden, there is an absolute lack of responsibility for our lives. It's the best we've felt in over two weeks!

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Stay tuned for the next entry on our adventures on the high seas!
 
Updated from http://www.RideDOT.com/rtw/88.html on March 31, 2013

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Logbuch (German for Logbook - duh!)
30.03.2013 coco bandero GUNA YALA
since yesterday we are ON TOUR again with a total of 25 souls on board plus 10
motorcycles! weather is great and the forecast for tomorrow for the sail over to cartagena
looks pretty good....HASTA LUEGO

"25 souls on board". I don't know why, but this sounds so nautical-speak, I LOVE IT!

So with all the bikes on board, we were off into the Caribbean Sea! First stop, the San Blas islands where we are offloaded to find accommodations for the evening, since we are not officially booked to stay on the ship till the day after.

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Run off the ship, forced to fend for ourselves

The San Blas islands are populated by the Kuna indians, and we are put up for the night in their huts. Most of the islands are quite tiny, we could walk the length of ours in under a minute! Their primary means of transportation is by dugout canoe, which are works of art created from a single tree trunk.

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Most of the Kuna women were wearing colourful dresses and legwear

We were a bit taken aback by all the flags with swastikas adorning the boats on the island and vehicles near the Carti pier the day before. But we found out that this was the flag of the Kuna Yala community that lives along the San Blas islands. It wasn't the first time we've seen non-Nazi swastikas in our travels, as our trip through India revealed their religious significance in that culture.

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Island hopping by beautiful dugout canoe

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The colourful material that the dresses are made from are called mola and are popular to tourists as well

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Neda taking a stroll around our island. This is her third time around in the last 5 minutes...

We feel a bit abandoned on that tiny island, as we thought we were going to spend a night on the ship. We had to pay for our hut and we weren't able to sleep in the bed provided because Neda was allergic to all the sand fleas, so we opted to sleep in a double-hammock instead.
Not a comfortable sleeping arrangement for the entire night. It was the only mis-step in our entire Stahlratte experience.

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Little Kuna girl with her puppy

The next morning, a dinghy picked us up and we sailed off on the Stahlratte in search of a more deserted island to lounge around in the sun and the warm waters of the Caribbean. This truly was a vacation from our regular trip, bikes bundled against the salt water spray for the duration and us frolicking and relaxing on the boat.

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Beautiful breakfast spread on the Stahlratte, surrounded by crazy Australian bikers

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Bikes are all wrapped up to protect against the corrosive sea spray - still going to hit a carwash after though!

We're sharing our boat with a mostly German crew, a bunch of wacky Australian bikers, and an assortment of European backpackers and bicyclists. Quite the international bunch! Ludwig was the perfect host, having adopted a very island attitude towards everything in his 8 years in the Caribbean. Everything he said was prefaced with: "No problem", "Don't worry". It was truly a stress-free experience.

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In the afternoon, we find a nice isolated island to anchor next to. BBQ is being prepared for the evening!

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The deserted islands here could have been templates for all those comic strips

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Stahlratte anchored off the shore of our playground island

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After a BBQ dinner on the island, a bonfire!

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Feeling very Castaway at this point. Forgot my Wilson volleyball...

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Chillin'

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The next day, more watersports! Neda goes snorkeling

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Beautiful starfish - the Germans on board called this a SeaStar.

After doing some snorkeling, Neda and I swim over to our own deserted island to explore a bit. It feels so wild, wide and open out here, we thought maybe we'd put up a bungalow on this island, get a dugout canoe to go grocery shopping at the Kuna Yala's next door...

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Honey Ryder, GS Ryder?

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"I think we'll put the swimming pool over here..."

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Neda's shellphone seems to be getting excellent reception

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Whiling the day away on our private deserted island - so cool!

On the Stahlratte, they don't make you walk the plank. Instead...

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Climbing 20 metres above the deck to reach the crow's nest - picture by Remo Hug

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Social time before our voyage

In the middle of the night, we heard the engines turn on and we prepared ourselves for the 30-hour journey to Cartagena. I was a bit worried about getting seasick, since my last experience on the ferry between La Paz and mainland Mexico ended very badly. So while we were in Panama, we stocked up on 100 Gravol pills and made sure we started our tablet diet before we boarded the ship.

We ended up both feeling ill anyway, this time it was Neda's turn to feed the fishes overboard while I ended up keeping my lunch where it belonged. The crew was very good in predicting what we needed, as the large breakfast we had the day before was replaced with a basket of bread and crackers on the kitchen table.

The rest of the passengers emerged from the hold, faces green and all talk on the deck was kept to a minimum: "Pass the crackers please", "I have to puke again, excuse me, pardon me..."

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Beautiful sunsets from the deck of the Stahlratte

I think the point of having a rest day in San Blas was to get to know everyone socially before we all clammed up the next day due to sea-sickness. Ludwig told us that most people take 24-48 hours to get their sea-legs, which didn't help as our journey was only 30 hours long anyway.

Needless to say, not a lot of pictures from our actual voyage! :)
 
Updated from http://www.RideDOT.com/rtw/89.html on April 5, 2013

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On the second day of travel, most of the passengers emerged from the hold of the ship feeling human again. We were landlubbers no more, and greedily shoveled down the hearty Stahlratte breakfast laid out on the top deck. For some of us, it was the first real meal we ate in over 24 hours!

Our newfound sealegs were not going to be put to use, as the skyline of Cartagena emerged on the horizon in the early afternoon. South America beckoned to us! For most of the passengers it was the first time on this continent. The Stahlratte anchored down a few hundred meters away from the shores of Manga Island, where the Aduana offices were located. Because it was expensive to rent a commercial pier to offload the bikes, we used a small public pier and dinghied the bikes to shore. It was a wild process to get the bikes on land and it's a testament to the crew's experience that we timed the offload to coincide with high tide as you can see in the video below:

Couldn't believe how they got our bikes onto shore!

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My bike needed a few extra pair of hands to haul up

Since we had just unloaded the bikes illegally onto Colombian shores without customs or insurance, we were quickly hurried to the Aduana building a few short blocks away. Ludwig had arranged everything with a local fixer to get us legal, and within a few hours, all 10 bikes had all the papers required to ride in the country. We have been really impressed with how well-oiled and efficient the Stahlratte experience has been, coupling plenty of Darien crossing experience with German efficiency and Caribbean good-humour.

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Riding through the old town of Cartagena

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Arriving at our neighbourhood for the next few days

We're staying in a part of town called Getsamani, a seedier district of Cartagena that recently has undergone a transformation from a past checkered with drugs and prostitution to a vibrant, hip neighbourhood of cafes, restaurants and nightclubs. We've booked a room with air-conditioning (very important) and we're initially a bit disappointed to learn that there is no hot water in the showers. Until we realize that the average temperature in Cartagena is 31C all year round. No one needs a hot water shower!

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Performers at the Convention Centre in Cartagena

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Found out later this is the Caribbean Arts Festival

Mornings and evenings are the best time to be out in the city, and our neighbourhood as well as the nearby historic centre is bustling with activity, both tourist and local. We both loved the colonial architecture, pretty balconies with flowers looking over cobblestone streets, and the ever present churches looming above the narrow alleyways.

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Sun setting behind San Pedro Claver Church

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Balconies everywhere!

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The Cafe Del Mar is the best place in the city to watch a sunset

We hung out mostly with the Stahlratte club, meeting in the evenings for drinks and walking around the city. A friend put us in touch with Nick and Clara, who live in Toronto, but spend their winters in Cartagena. We spent a couple of days with them, and they spoiled us silly, ferrying us from swimming at luxury hotels, drinks overlooking the Cartagena shore and delicious seafood dinners.

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Mojitos by the poolside! Heaven!

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Nick and Clara live across the Sofitel Hotel in the centro and this is how he spends every afternoon!

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Follow the nose, it always knows!

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The hotel was renovated in an old convent, and the bar is built over a crypt. Spooky!

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The party (and mojitos) continue at Nick and Clara's balcony across the street

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Horse-drawn nights in the historic centre

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Neda celebrates her first birthday on the road

It's still a novelty celebrating anniversaries on the road, different than a trip or a vacation. First Christmas, first birthday, etc., not being tied to any place, knowing that the next anniversary the next year will be somewhere entirely different. We're loving the nomadic experience, I think mainly because there's so many new things to see and we're going at a pretty slow pace to appreciate everything.

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Late night coffee in the plaza

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Post-hangover lunch in Getsamani

After 3 days of non-stop drinking to celebrate Neda's birthday, we crawled out of our hostel to the heat haze of the Cartegena afternoon. We enjoyed pizza and spaghetti in a great Italian restaurant around the corner called I Balconi, watching the lazy weekend unfold below in the streets of our neighbourhood.

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This outfit looks more Cuban than Colombian

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Early morning bicycle ride

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Cuban women selling fruits on the street

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More balconies!

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Walkng the streets of Cartagena

After a few days in Cartagena, the Stahlratte Motorcycle Club decided to split ways. One group was heading to the north to the beaches of Santa Marta, while another was headed south to Medellin. We rode with them out of the city, 8 adventure bikes zipping in and out of Colombian traffic, the Caribbean Sea blowing warm air on our already hot and humid group ride.

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Typical group ride shots - gas stations and food stops

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Charter member of the Stahlratte Motorcycle Club

Neda and I had different plans, so we accompanied them as far as Baranquilla, a couple of hours on the shore north of Cartagena. After a final breakfast together, we said goodbye and went our different ways. Apparently, the first item on our plan was to get rained on on the interior roads back to Cartagena. It was so hot that we didn't bother putting any rainsuits on, and our ride was made a bit more bearable as our mesh gear dried and evaporated our wet clothes underneath on the road back to the city.
 

Rugy

New member
Thank you for sharing your awesome adventure here.
Have read every post and look forward to reading more in the future. I am green with envy.
Some day I will make this happen with my wife as well but for now 3 kids and other large commitments. But we are planning for it.
Take care and best of luck to you both.
Oh yeah, we won the Gold in Hockey today, great eh !!
 
Updated from: http://www.RideDOT.com/rtw/90.html on April 14, 2014

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We didn't stay in South America for very long. After only 9 days in Cartagena, we loaded the bikes back on the Stahlratte and set sail into the heart of the Caribbean sea. First stop: Jamaica, mon!

Flabbergasted by the Stahlratte loading technique

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We have a new captain on-board. I asked for a confidence-inspiring look and this was all she could manage...

We're doing this leg of the trip by windpower only, which lends a very different flavour to our journey. Whereas the Panama to Colombia run was a regular commuter run; with the sails up and the engine off, it now felt much more romantic, harkening back to an older method of transportation.

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The human effort in sailing a boat is mainly pulling on a bunch of ropes

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This is my contribution to the sailing efforts, Alisa serenades the boat with Spanish songs

Coming out of Cartegna we hit some pretty rough waters and most of the passengers got sea-sick. In the middle of the night, I frantically scrambled over a sleeping Neda and barely made it to the deck of the ship where I donated my rented dinner to the Caribbean marine life.

I spent the early hours of the dark morning with Ludwig on the top deck, trying to focus on any kind of fixed horizon as the boat pitched violently side to side. Salt water spray cleaned the contents of my stomach off my face as huge waves monstered the bow of the Stahlratte, drenching our (thankfully) covered motorcycles. Ludwig seemed entirely at home striking a Captain Morgan pose looking out into the black waters of the moonless night. In contrast, I felt like I had 7 limbs wrapped around various railings and holds, desperate to stop myself from falling off this rollercoaster into a watery bed.

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The fishing lines behind the boat snag a King Mackerel

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Soon to be filets, ceviche and soup!

The second day of our 4-day voyage was a lot calmer, but it was still difficult to do anything but stare out at the horizon. Which meant that all of the hours of TV shows and movies and books that I downloaded went unviewed. Still, we found plenty to pass the time away, playing music, watching dolphins jump playfully in the waters beside us and racing in front of the ship. We caught some fish for dinner and at night, we watched from the balcony as the boat stirred up bio-luminescent plankton in its wake. It all felt very Life-Of-Pi, minus the tiger and the carnivorous island...

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Sails unfurled and looking ahead to Jamaica

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The nets at the bow of the ship were a great place to watch dolphins racing in front of us

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Like church on Sunday, everyone on the ship congregates on the deck of the ship every evening to watch the sun set.

Four days is a long time to spend cooped up on a ship with 21 other people, especially for a bunch of landlubbers like us. As we arrived into Port Antonio, on the north shore of Jamaica, the passengers were itching to get off the boat, pacing the deck and climbing the ropes to get a better of view of where we'd be after we cleared customs.

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Samantha climbing the crows nest. 10M above the deck of the boat

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Crows nest view of the Errol Flynn marina (yes, *THAT* Errol Flynn)

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This is how we treat immigration officers on the pirate ship Stahlratte...

At the marina, the immigration police came on board and upon seeing us swinging out on the ropes and diving into the harbour, one of them takes off his shoes, gun and cellphone and decides to swing out into the waters himself!

BEST IMMIGRATION EXPERIENCE EVER!!!

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Our favorite beach, Boston Beach

We're spending 6 days in Jamaica, but unfortunately our bikes can't come with us. There is an engine size restriction for importing motorcycles, and besides, Port Antonio isn't equipped to handle vehicle importations. Most of the passengers rent vehicles or take buses to tour the island. I used to work in Jamaica, so I've already seen most of it. Neda and I spend most of our time in Jamaica touring the different beaches on the north shore near Port Antonio.

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Yes, that sign does read, "Do Not Jump"...

I've never been a tourist in Jamaica, and was very surprised when we were assailed by roaming vendors everywhere offering to sell us trinkets and vices (some legal, some not). So that got a bit tiresome, but the scenery and the food made up for it. Ever since leaving Toronto, I've been craving a few comfort dishes, among them - curried goat, meat patties and jerk pork. So every evening, we would go down to the patty shop or the food stands and gorge on Jamaican food! So good!!!

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The shape of the bay at Boston Beach makes for a great place to surf in the late afternoons

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Swinging out in the sands

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This little guy knows how to pass the time away

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Ballerina of Boston Beach

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Neda goes snorkeling in her hunt to find sea-souvenirs

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This horse was taking a bath in the waters when another guy jumped on for a ride

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Spent some time watching a crab crawl in and out of its home, waiting for us to leave him alone

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Sprinting across the shallow waves at sunset

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Our Swedish friends Erik and Ebba back on the Stahlratte with us

Jamaica was a great refreshing stop, but after 6 days of lying on the beach, we were ready for the main course of our Carribean cruise. However before getting back on board, we gorged on last minute Internet access, letting all our friends and family know that we would be off the grid for a while, because where we're headed, they've banned the Internet. No connectivity for a month!
 

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