Scorchio Scorchio

It's easy to get lulled into a false sense of security regarding the heat when all you've done is sat in shady cafes for a few days. We found out how hot it was the hard way.
We were on the road at 8.47am. Our research told us we had a 66km ride back to La Entrada, this chart showed about 52. It turned out that it was 66km and I reckon the extra 14 were all uphill!

We'd had a hearty (and colourful) breakfast so felt in pretty good shape for the challenge.

A couple of hours in we stopped at a rare roadside stall for some drinkies. We had water, all the other local people who stopped as we sat there had Pepsi, sweets and shite crisps/snacks. There's trouble brewing for this regions health.....
On we went. The scenery was lovely. I'll let this video save my finger a bit of typing
https://vimeo.com/151098791?utm_source=email&utm_medium=vimeo-cliptranscode-201504&utm_campaign=28749

There was no food at all on this stretch and we began to feel a bit desperate. We were now overheating as well. We knew we should stop but also wanted to go on in search of food. There were quite a few stalls but they only had drinks, mostly warm Pepsi.
Finally at around 3pm we wobbled into La Entrada. Another thing we have learnt is that the gradients on the chart are averages and not to be taken literally. The last section into town appears to be downhill but it had loads of ups as well, all in full sun. I was beginning to feel sick and weak. It was around 32 degrees and in that sun it was all a bit much.
We stumbled into the first half sensible restaurant we saw and ordered up some pollo fritas and bloody good it tasted too.
Now there's not much to keep you in this town. Our plan was to stay the night and then ride this little lot the next day

A bus looked bloody appealing. Now it seems that I was wrong about the lack of roof racks, maybe it was a Western Honuras thing... Anyway, within 2 seconds of pulling up at the bus station the bikes were being lashed to the roof of a minivan and we were off. The driver was a flippin nutter. We were squeezed right in the back. It was boiling and we couldn't really see where we were going due to all the heads in front of us. The bus lurched and bounced about making for a pretty unpleasant ride. What we did see of the climbs made us glad that as bad as this was, it was still the right decision. 
About an hour later we were unceremoniously dumped off at the bus station of Santa Rosa de Copan. My back wheel was half hanging out and kates gears were bent. The final climb up to the old town just about finished us (me especially) off. We checked in to a hotel, showered and went for a crap burger. There wasn't much else around apart from 1 soulless empty posh place. Phew, what a day.

The next day we were on the road by, yep you guessed it, 8.47am. Don't learn much do we?! This was today's ride

We had a small breakfast in a little cafe upstairs in the 'bandstand' of the central square. The whole place felt very calm, European and dare I say normal 

According to our map there was a little town about 15km away and we we felt pretty comfortable we'd be able to get a second breakfast there that would see us through the 45km ride. All research said it was actually 45 so we should be fine

The town was about half way down that big descent, so in true 'chart average style' we saw the turn off whilst we were sweating it out up a nice long climb! The turning plunged off the side of the mountain but with the promise of a hearty feed we followed it down. When we got to the dusty central square, to say we were disappointed maybe a bit of an understatement. There was nothing but closed doors and a few scabby dogs. Asking a lady who was hanging out her washing we got directions back up the hill, for sure there was a restaurant there. Hmm, really? A few minutes later kate was creaking the ajar door open, calling out "ola" in her best Spanish accent. 

Kates actually learnt quite a bit of lingo using an app on her phone, mine is non existent. "Pollo, huevos?" Kate proficiently asked, casting the net wide for anything that might be available.  "Si" said the owner, returning a few minutes later with 3 frozen chicken drumsticks and 4 eggs in a plastic bag....App that!! 
We don't actually think we ever found the restaurant but the lady kindly cooked us up some 'breakfast tipico'- tortillas, scrambled egg, refried beans and some local cheese that's like an extremely salty, crumbly feta.

With full bellies and a hefty tip given to her little daughter who sat through our bizarre visit watching the Muppets in Spanish, we were off up that bloody hill again

And then down the other side - pay back time and top speed of the trip 64.9 /h. You just can't let go properly down those hills. 

We're pretty heavy as bikes go for our stopping power and there are always either potholes lurking in the shadows or the odd street dog running about, or both...

A quick stop for a front wheel puncture on my bike for a change! It's the first one I've had nearly 5000km of touring in France, South East Asia and here so I couldn't really complain

The scenery was dryer here, the jungle given way to a far more Mediterranean feel

We crossed a river and couldn't resist a cool off. I walked in with my shoes and socks on, well they needed a rinse.

More ups, more downs. We made sure to stop off when we could, even just for a drink or a sit in the shade and calm it all down a bit.

I'd got my gradient charts mixed up and was expecting a final downhill into Gracias. Obviously it never came, making the final hot few K's even harder as I felt I was being tricked.
We headed for the Lonely Planet's best cafe/hotel for a well overdue late lunch. It was the weirdest but most welcome Club Sandwich I've ever eaten. The book waxes lyrical about spotting woodpeckers and hummingbirds from the terrace. All we saw was a pigeon trying to get it on with his lady friend on the neighbours roof. We checked the expensive but nice rooms and moved on, choosing a place down the road instead, deciding that we could then splurge guilt free on some frozen Mojitos also recommended in the book. For once it came up trumps

Cheers

Copan Ruinas go slow

Our friends John & Jane who we met whilst motorbiking back from Oz are really good at 'slow travelling'. We're not, but we're trying to get better at it.....
After looking at flight prices back to Miami for our return to London it seems that Costa Rica is way cheaper than all the other neighbouring countries. Funny, the most expensive country in the region is the cheapest, I'm sure someone clever can explain that to me. Anyway, we'll probably now not go to Panama or if we do  we'll do it by bus. Why am I rattling on about this? Well, because it means we need to slow down......

All this was going through my mind this morning as I was pulling on my Lindford Christie Lycra. We decided we could definitely afford another day here.
We've moved guesthouse to a cheaper nicer one. Kate couldn't resist the bar area

And I was getting tired of having to do yoga moves to get on the toilet. I seriously contemplated going 'reverse cow boy' on it but couldn't face hugging the cistern

So, another long lazy day in Copan. First we cruised the main square and watched them taking down the Christmas tree. 

Then it was onto the local supermarket for a peruse. 

I couldn't resist a can of this. It was disgusting!

Then to the museum where we spent a fair while reading let alone understanding some of these sentences. What is Patolli?

More cruising town

A bit of sitting on some very Flinstoneaque chairs (bloody uncomfortable) and of course Scrabble and then more Scrabble, then book reading then finally 5pm came and it was socially acceptable for a beer. 

We did also go to a chocolate plantation. We had roasted cacao  beans covered in natural brown sugar (yummy) and a rather strange but very natural hot chocolate made from ground up roasted cacao beans and hot milk. It certainly didn't taste like a 'modern world' drink and made us realise how much flavouring & shite must go into what we'd call a nice one.

I think we'll leave tomorrow. Probably. Maybe.....

Coast to Copan

It's funny. Usually when we cross a land border I wax lyrical (?) about the immediate changes in everything just due to an arbitrary line scored by some politicians in a board room somewhere. This (for us anyway) was not the case when crossing from Guatemala into Honduras at the Corinto border.
The only thing that struck me immediately were the buses.  The local 'Chicken buses' were now mostly beakless, (as in flat fronted) loosing their big macho cool bonnet. Many of the characterful, colourful 'rides' had in fact sadly been replaced by super naff Hyundai Coaster buses and worst of all, roof racks were definitely not de riguer. Now I have to say that I'm a bit of a roof rack man, especially when travelling in a mountainous country on a heavy bicycle....

Gleefully tearing the used pages from the Lonely Planet in a futile attempt to shave weight

Kate (while searching on www.crazyguyonabike.com) has found a really useful blog of a couple (Alan & Wendy) who rode through these parts a few years back on a tandem. Their blog (from now on to be referred to as AWB as in Alan & Wendy's blog) couldn't be more different to ours. No waffle or silly mutterings, just loads of straight facts & info about distances, road surfaces, climb rates and food stops. Bloody good on em I say, it's well handy!
So, with AWB's info in our head, we rode an easy 25km to Puerto Corres and got on a bus. 

Local biking dudes

So, back to the roof racks. After riding the hot, mean streets of town for quite a while we finally found the bus station. The guys working there almost ripped the bikes out from under us. Within minutes both bikes were stashed across the back seats and we were on our way. 

We hadn't asked the price but then when Blakey (the conductor) came to collect the fare he explained that we needed to pay 7 times the normal rate as we were taking up 7 seats. But as we bowled along, feeling a bit ripped off I changed my mind. The bloke was actually really friendly and courteous, helping women & children on and off the bus and generally being nice. So what if they'd tucked us up? The busy dual carriageway looked horrible to ride on and after 1.5 hours, our destination town of Pedro de Sula looked hotter, more sprawling and more unwelcoming than any place we'd been so so far.

We not only changed buses here but also changed our undershorts, cunningly using Kates skirt as a 'this is how we do it in England' disguise

After a quick bit of lunch in the shopping centre food court (first time for me to have my bike in a food court) we were off.

This time it was a proper big bus. We reclined (yes seriously) our slightly faded and dirty luxury velour seats, slid the window open and enjoyed 3 hours of gorgeous countryside flying by. The bikes however were unceremoniously chucked in a locker under the bus and by the time we arrived they'd 'mated' quite well. This didn't stop the over zealous driver just grabbing any part of either bike in a reasonably mindless attempt to separate them. A few more scratches and dings were chalked up but they still soldier on.
The next abuse they got was the cobbled streets of the little town of Copan. We pretty much took the first hotel we found just so we could get off them. A quick 'street food' dinner followed by a milkshake rounded off the day nicely. They take their milkshakes pretty damn seriously in Honduras!

Copan is a nice little town and home to some very well preserved Mayan ruins which has turned it into a little tourist hub.

The main square

Lots of the hombres here wear cowboy hats like this.

We went to a shop to check them out. We thought they'd be straw type hats that let in the breeze but they seem to be made of something thick and woven and then lacquered. It wasn't a tourist shop, these were the real mc coy. Check this one out, something got a little lost in translation...

So, on to the ruins. I have to say I'm more of a BC man than AD but when in Honduras eh... They were actually a really nice and peaceful place to visit. First came the Macaw sanctuary bit then onto the real deal.

It was about this time last year that we were at Angkor Wat and despite the ancient civilisations being totally different, the modern day remnants are remarkably similar except here it was so much calmer and more accessible. So much so that I'm sure I saw this bloke last year, maybe he's here on holiday?

Huge 400 year old trees kind of half hold the place together and half break it up in a kind of "I don't care which civilisation you are, I'm a tree and I'm in charge" kind of way that I like. The archeologists think that this site was abandoned by the Mayans after they over populated it, deforested it causing drought and basically wiped themselves out. Sound kinda familiar???

I mean once you've seen one fully hyroglifficked staircase you've seen em all ain't ya?

Another crumbling old ruin

Jeez, it's even steeper here than from level 4 of the O2 down onto the arena floor 

Last one

Back in the game!

Apparently the Guatemalans wish for rain on NYE as it is said to wash away the old year. I quite like that actually. Well, they got their rain, 24 hours late. At 6am when we got up it was chucking it down. Oh, just before I continue with this I just wanted to show you this pic from last night's dinner. We had delicious BBQ chicken and flour (not yucky corn) tortillas. I just love the 'I'm off to the nightclub as soon as works over' look the chef had!

Anyway, we waited for a break in the rain and rode back down to the port. We were soon underway

After a while it started pelting down again and in true 'form follows function' style, El Capitano's assistant handed out some big sheets of thick black polythene. The locals knew the drill and within seconds we were in an almost surreal scene of skimming across the Caribbean Sea, hiding under a giant bin bag. Flipping hilarious!
Our speedboat was heading for the town of Puerto Barrios. Now would you believe that by chance today PB made the bbc news? Just a few dead and beheaded inmates at the local prison that allegedly holds 900 prisoner but is designed for 125.... More here if you're interested http://www.bbc.com/news/world-latin-america-35210901

We didn't have plans to hang around so after a quick brekkie at the Golden Arches ( that makes our first & last meals of Guatemala courtesy of Ronald) we cycled on.
The cloud cover was pretty good, keeping the temperature down but the humidity was way up, making for a sticky ride. 

The road was pretty flat as we headed for the border with Honduras. 

We were stamped out of the country and then rode on through no mans land (plenty of bananas though) until we got to the Honduras immigration which all went smoothly.

Meal No.1 of the Big H was rank KFC style chicken and about 4 cold chips. Fuelled up, we powered on, enjoying the scenery. I have to say that it did feel pretty cool to be riding down a road from Guatemala to Honduras on a bicycle. It made me smile 

This dude probably didn't ride as far as us today but top marks for load carrying

At about 4pm, after some serious torrential drenchings we arrived at the seaside town of Omoa. We'd done it! 90 hot, wet, sticky but pretty flat KM. so we can still ride ok, we were beginning to wonder if we could!
Now Omoa is a classic case of a town being a victim of its own success. The sea is almost blue here and the sand actually pretends to be a bit white(ish) as in not the colour of dishwater. It sits on a picturesque bay, sunsets to one side, jungle mountains to the other

But.... It is unfortunately overrun with Honduran CUBs - no, not small boys in uniforms helping old ladies cross the road but Cashed Up Bogans (a great Aussie saying that you can google if you still don't know what it is). Here is the reality shot

We (don't ask me why) chose to eat in a Canadian owned bar/restaurant that soon after we sat down cranked up the American soft rock ballads on a cheap but a bit too loud stereo. Not to worry we had the 3 giant screens showing sports to take our mind off it all. It's only redeeming feature was a tardis 

And an English woman who used to live around the corner from us in London (Beacosfield rd). No, in fact she wasn't redeeming at all. She was boring and a bit annoying. Hmmm

We felt pretty wiped out so brought most of our uber greasy pizzas home in a doggie bag. I hope they enjoy them more than we did...

Just before we totally leave Guatemala behind forever I just wanted to mention something that slipped through all the previous blogs. The showers. It would seem to be too much trouble for the Guatemalan plumbers to run hot water to the showers. Up north in the heat that's fine but further south in the mountains a little bit of warm water doesn't go amiss. They do however have a cunning solution to this. They attach a special electrically powered heater shower head to warm the water as it flows out. Here's an example of one

This one has the additional ingenious solution to the shower rose - a plastic bag with a few holes in it... Anyway, putting the bag aside for the mo, I think it would be a really good idea if the electricians and plumbers of this fine country were to get together now and then to discuss a bit of physics. In quite a few of the guest houses we got electric shocks from these crazy contraptions. I got my first through the trickle of water when I raised my arm up close to the shower head when washing my stinky pits. It didn't even touch the thing but zapped me though a few inches of flowing water. That was a lesson quickly learnt I can tell you! But, as they say, you learn something new everyday. In another much more pro looking installation I showered safely until the end when turning off the tap the bugger zapped me when I touched it. In the end the only way I could turn it off was to knock the tap round, using my shower gel bottle as a hammer. Choice!