Month and a half long motorcycle trip through Central America
Compilation of travelogue and stories of the Central American trip month and a half long.
The Central American trip took place between December 2024 and January 2025 passing through 8 countries: Mexico, Belize, Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaraua, Costa Rica and Panama.
We travelled on 2 dualsport motorcycles Chinese brand Lifan, 250cc power bought in Belize. After a month and a half of travel, we left motorcycles stored in an agency dealing with storing vehicles and goods and shipping them to Colombia upon request. We will meet our motorcycles again when we fly to Colombia from Croatia in November 2025 and continue our trip 5 months long trip towards the end of the world – Ushuaia in Argentina.
How did we come up with this idea? Looking at the prices of transporting motorcycles from Europe to Central America and back, and the prices of renting motorcycles, we realized it was cheaper to buy two small motorcycles on the continent we were visiting. Not only is it cheaper, but it is also safer to travel on small motorcycles, to blend in with the surroundings, so as not to stand out with our Teneres 700 we usually travel with. It is worth mentioning also that for these 2 motorcycles, for the 200kms traveled per day, we poured an average of $12 of gas, for both. It makes the trip even more fun. More importantly, for such small, simple single-cylinder engines, parts can be found everywhere, and after riding almost 5,000km, I can say that there is no point in riding big and fast motorcycles because the roads are mostly in poor condition. Even the famous Pan-American highway, the expressway that connects Alaska with Tierra del Fuego in Argentina, is full of deep potholes and unmaintained in places, depending on the country it passes through. We mostly avoided it because it was less interesting than the local roads that give a better insight into where we were actually. We bought the motorbikes in Belize, a small country below Mexico, and the decision was helped by the fact that I have a friend there who owns a hotel and a motorbike tour agency, so that made the process easier.
Ready to go and with spare parts, we paid $1,300 for the motorcycle, and the transcript was only $15. The vehicle and general ownership document is a hand-written, decorated piece of paper and that’s it. There is no technical inspection, no annual registration, unless motorcycles return to the country after more than a year, then a technical inspection is required upon return. No booklet, stamp, queues for technical inspection, none of that exists here… Excellent! It was important to be well informed about everything before departure, from the necessary paperwork, border crossings, and the possibility of leaving the motorcycle for a long time in a country there, because we are coming back for more. Our ultimate goal of this trip is the so-called end of the world – Ushuaia in Tierra del Fuego at the very end of Argentina. Probably the goal of many motorcyclists, the elusive dream of all those who do not live in the Americas because there is always that obstacle of motorcycle transport and finances. Yes, it is the most beautiful to travel on your own motorcycle, but in the end, the means of achieving your desires is not important when the opportunity opens up, in any way and with whatever. In the end, we fell in love with those little Lifans.
These stories are impressions written during the travel. Everyday scenes and some special moments that marked this trip.
Mexico
Chichèn Itzà
My, and Boris’s, maybe fourth, fifth guided tour in life. A guide is the worst for a guide – the strictest judge and the one who looks thoughtfully and weighs every word, the way of pronunciation and the tone used. I have no mercy when I listen to guides, and many of my colleague guides will probably agree with me. If you are a person like me who likes to explore at your own pace, then you understand. Although as a guide and advisor for those who want to know more and deeper about something, I actually recommend booking guided tours, in my free time I want to take a break from my profession, at least not to listen to others. And yet I always create itineraries and give three hundred ideas when asked for.
We realized that it was more practical and cheaper to pay for a full-day guided tour with three different visits for 35e than to look for a bus back and forth from Cancùn to the Mayan city of Chichèn Itzà for almost the same price. It was actually nice for a change going around brainless all day and just going with the flow.
We saw one of the approximately 8,000 cenotes, cave pools, on the Yucatan Peninsula (we immediately ruled out swimming when we heard that the water temperature was 16 degrees, and there will be plenty more cenotes on this trip of ours).
Also visited one of the 7 modern wonders of the world – the Mayan temple of Chichèn Itzà. The archaeological site is not really that big in terms of area and it is full of stalls with colorful souvenirs, but it fascinates with the story and the knowledge that we are on the sacred ground of the Mayans. The temple of Kukulkan, the snake-like feathered god; a playground for playing with a ball similar to basketball, except that the ball weighs 3 kilograms and has to be thrown through a hole several meters high with the thigh or hip, and the losers are sacrificed; the reliefs on the temples of warriors – Chichèn Itzà remains recorded in our minds and checked off the list of “Things to see in life”.
Cancun – Boat ride and diving to the underwater museum
In the sea in front of Cancun, there is a gallery of about 500 statues made of special material to create an artificial coral reef and boost the life underwater. The national park management decided on this move when they realized that tourists were damaging the natural reefs on diving tours. But more impoertant, to enrich the underwater world.
We took a boat ride and dived into the world of colorful fish and slightly terrifying statues left in the depths.
Belize
Belize – A Caribbean Feel
The town of Hopkins in the Caribbean country of Belize is said to be the friendliest place in the country. Perhaps that is why my friend Emma decided to stay for a few more days, and then a few more weeks, 15 years ago, until she realized she would stay a little longer. She started with 2 motorbikes for rent, then a small hostel, and is now a leading rental and motorcycle tour agency Alternate Adventures, and runs a top-notch small hotel Crash Pad Adventure Hostel right at the intersection of the main street and the path that leads to the sandy beach. 15 years ago, that main road wasn’t even paved, and the town now has 3,000 more inhabitants than it had back then.
Different cultures and residents live in harmony here – descendants of the Mayans from different tribes, descendants of the Garifuna (natives from Africa who settled here and have been maintaining their culture and language), Creoles, mestizos, Mennonites, Europeans, and passing tourists. And the Chinese own absolutely every small shop, market, and supermarket in the country! Belize is a British colony, so the official language is English, but Spanish, Garifuna, and Mayan dialects are also spoken, and they all work well together.
It’s like that all over the country, not just in Hopkins, which is especially thriving because it lies on a long sandy beach, at the beginning of that Caribbean scenery that continues south of it. Everyone is extremely kind, pleasant, and everyone greets everyone on the street.
While waiting for the weekend to pass so we could sort out the paperwork for the motorcycle ownership transfer, we were also overcome by the lethargy and ease of life that this place exudes, so we indulged in half-day lying in a hammock and drinking rum under the palm trees.
After the Caribbean part of the country, the interior of Belize showed us a more jungle-like side of itself and what awaits when we enter Guatemala. There are many Mayan structures in Belize, but we decided to explore the lesser-known depths, visiting a crashed plane from the 80s that was used to monitor jaguars because Belize is home to the first jaguar reserve in the world, even though jaguars can be rarely seen.
Life brought Emma to Hopkins, through social media Emma brought me to her 3 years ago, and now Boris and I have found ourselves at her place in Belize, bought motorcycles and entered a new level of our life and motorcycle travel.
Guatemala
Guatemala: First impressions, Mayan site Tikal and goulash on Christmas Eve
The weather was cloudy, muggy and occasionally rainy for the first few days of our arrival in Central America. It put weight on everything and everything seemed to be happening slowly. However, unexpectedly, entering Guatemala was quick, and all the staff were really pleasant and smiling. In addition, the sun appeared immediately upon entering and lifted our spirits. Right after the border, chaos on the road – more motorbikes passing by than we had ever seen in traffic because it is the main means of transport, no one wears a helmet and everyone is driving. Absolutely everyone, from 10 to 80 years old. Mothers, grandmothers, girls and aunts, so I felt comfortable in my skin knowing that I would not stand out. We sat down for instant coffee in a small diner and just observed, adjusting to the new country, the new situation.
We decided to go straight to Tikal, the former capital of the most powerful Mayan kingdom, today the largest Mayan archaeological site. Along with Chichèn Itzà, it forms the two most important archaeological zones in Central America. Entrance fee is only $20 and there is a 17km ride to the main square where you enter the site. Hotels are next to the entrance, there are various activities, but we only came to visit the temples and in the afternoon when there are the fewest people, like everywhere. Since we were visiting the site in the afternoon, there was almost no people in the site and no traffic riding to it. When in Guatemala, do it like the locals… So we rode towards Tikal with no helmets after a long time in our lifes, soaking up the smells of moist soil and feeling the jungle air on our face.
Along the way, we saw “tiendas” or small shops and instant coffee cafes, coffee fields, roadside eateries, farm animals across the road and knee-high policemen lying down, and then we understood why everyone was driving slowly. At the end of the road in a small village, we stopped to buy a spark plug, and the small shop was amazingly full of parts, the selection was like a big store back home, if not better. We almost bought an Akrapovič exhaust for $90, but we pulled ourselves together. There are so many motorcycles here that there must be parts everywhere! There are small tiendas everywhere and they all sell the same thing, and the selection is limited to canned goods, juices, snacks and some hygiene supplies. The only difference is the price. Fruit and vegetables are bought exclusively at the market, and bread is bought at the bakery and it is hard to find because tacos are the thing here, and it is baked in every corner, even at the market where handbags are sold or in the courtyard to people while they are sitting in front of their houses. But you can buy a motorbike, a washing machine or a TV in a bank, and a paper mill is actually a laundromat. That’s why I like these less organized countries, because the flexibility of the people shows what kind of lifestyle they have and everything is solvable, people will always at least try to help. Let’s not fool ourselves, every house in larger populated areas has bars or high courtyard walls. The low standard of living encourages people to come up with all sorts of ideas, but not to beg, because we have only experienced that twice, and in larger places. Big cities are always the most dangerous, and we prefer nature and country roads anyway. Knee-high speed bumps clarified for us why everyone was driving slowly. But by our standards, we drive slowly too because our engines are not too strong, and that’s ideal for where we are.
Everyone is kind and pleasant. Yes, it’s the work in tourism and hospitality, but they set a perfect example of the manners of someone who works in that field. They make everything very pleasant and at the end you thank them three times because they create a nice atmosphere for you. Everyone greets us nicely on the street. I mean the locals. Rare tourists greet us in passing by, but the locals greet us so nicely as if you have been their neighbors all their lives, which is a bit surprising. Something completely different from the African experience last year. That’s when we realized we are still in captured by that atmosphere and that we need to shake it off because it is completely different here. Warmer, more human, more relaxed.
On the way back, we see a fire in a stove (which is not often seen here) in a courtyard by the road and decide to ask if there is anything nice to eat. The team says there is none because it is not a restaurant, but that we can join them for a beer if we want. We go get some beers and stay sitting in the courtyard with a team consisting of a Greek woman who has been living there for 2 years, a local guy and a couple from Texas who have 4 children and have been living there for 4 years. She is an English teacher, he is a football coach and they live in what was actually a former restaurant next to the street that they haven’t even renovated but has remained the same as it was – an open lower terrace which is now a bedroom, a kitchen and a living room without high walls and almost everything is visible from the street, and the kitchen in the courtyard next to the street which we saw as well as many other passers-by. A few more beers and they start getting ready to eat. They also set out deep pots with something cooked, when inside – it looks like goulash!
We ask him what it is, he says he doesn’t know and that he made it up, and we tell him that the dish has a name and that it is called goulash in our country. We were all amazed by the introduction and overall knowledge, said our goodbyes and left before midnight.
Central and South America love fireworks, so at midnight on Christmas Eve it looked like a state of war because the shooting didn’t stop for more than half an hour. It reminded me of how it used to be in our country, but it also got boring after a while because we wanted to sleep so that tomorrow we could set off fresh for the south of Guatemala.
We are travelling with “Chang Shlang” engines – Lifan Meilun 250cc made in China.
And they are funnier than we had thought! A copy of Honda CRF 250L, only not built with such quality materials. Maximum riding pace is 80kms/h, which I thought was just a given optimum speed when reading specifications online. And there are not that many details about the motorcycles because they are not so widespreaded. Heck, the first time I heard about them is when we were offered to buy them to travel with. But the point is – they are easy to fix and maintain, parts are universal and easy to find, they don’t stand out in the crowds and the regret wouldn’t be so big if anything unfixable happens.
With all said, we believe they will get us to the finish line.
On Christmas we experienced the real spirit of it when Boris’s engine just died while riding, and the day before we had just set off for Guatemala. After tinkering with the engine, we towed it 2-3km to the nearest gas station and asked the worker if he knew of any mechanics. A man who was going to the a family lunch with his family overheard us and immediately started helping. Wedid all we knew we start the engine, while the man’s wife was on a video call with their mechanic friend. We immediately assumed that the carburetor needed to be cleaned. We opened it with the few tools we had and Estuardo the mechanic cleaned it, but it still didn’t work properly. We soon realized that the problem was the pin fuse that had come loose. And that was it.
We treated the people to beer and juice, Estuardo said that it would be enough for him just to cover his fuel for the trip but he got more, and the husband and wife did not want to take anything. They wished us a safe journey to the two Croats they had met for the first time in their lives.
A small act from them but really a big one for us, which enabled us to continue out trip on that day of Christmas, altering our plans just a little bit so that evening we slept in a town along the way significantly called – La Libertad.
Lake Atitlan
Locals say it’s unusually cloudy and rainy for this time of year. But at least it’s not cold.
That’s why we waited almost 3 days for the clouds to clear out so we could see those extinct volcanoes surrounding Lake Atitlan. The sacred Mayan lake, a sacred lake for locals and travelers. The sanctuary that is now underwater was abandoned during an earthquake that often occurs here. Every 50 years or so, the water level of the lake changes because an earthquake opens a hole in the depth of the lake and a lot of the water simply disappears.
The lake has always attracted pilgrims and travelers, it has a certain mysticism in it and its own magical energy precisely because it is almost entirely surrounded by volcanoes. From all over Guatemala, various seances, retreats take place here and it is the center of those who are looking for something higher and deeper, or just looking for themselves. We didn’t come to find ourselves, but volcanoes, as an introduction to what awaits us throughout Central America. We managed to see them, take a ride around the lake, visit small towns and the huge coffee plantations that surround it. Since it was the holiday season, everything was lit up, music was playing at every corner until late at night, and there was a certain liveliness. Sometimes for 18 dollars you get a shady-look-like hostel and sometimes for 23 dollars you find a hostel on a lake with rooms with a private bathroom and even hot water. That was a hit and the relaxed pleasure of life on the lake.
Volcano spotting
Spectacular sight. The definition of that term. You could probably see it on our faces as we watched the volcano’s peak spew fire with occasional lightning, and a thunderous sound from a short distance shattered the silence.
You wouldn’t even be looking at our faces, but at that very scene.
It’s not unique in the world, there are active volcanoes all over the world, but watching lava in the dark and hearing occasional rumblings as if the volcano is gurgling (and it is) is something special in life. It could easily always be in the top three experiences of life.
Watching Fuego, one of the most active volcanoes in the world, which erupts about 5 to 9 times an hour with a loud explosion accompanied by the throwing of lava dozens of meters high into the sky. And all of it is there, in front of you, as if in the palm of your hand. You stand there and just stare at it, hypnotized, fascinated. You can’t believe that this is happening in front of you. You feel small and humbled by the power of nature. The sound and the image paralyze you. There’s nothing you can do about it, you keep reminding yourself that humans are completely overpowered by nature, just a passing infection of the planet, temporary residents who will disappear in a second. A nanosecond, or less, if measured in the proportions of the existence of the universe.
I also wonder what it’s like for all these people to live near a volcano, what it’s like to live with constant thunder, knowing that it’s coming from a volcano that can actually gurgle louder at any moment and wipe out everything around it again. It’s a strange feeling for us, I don’t know what it’s like for them. You get used to everything, even living next to an active volcano. Are they raised to be aware that they can disappear at any second, does that change their attitude towards life? Are they aware that they live in a very special place or are they just seeing what the volcano gives them, which is fertile land rich in minerals that come from volcanic ash? Certainly both, it must be so.
How did we end up up there on the extinct Acatenango volcano at 3700m above sea level, looking at the nearby active Fuego?
A six-hour steep climb. We took the cheapest tour – for about $50 you get transportation from the city of Antigua, sleeping in a small wooden house behind a glass wall facing Fuego with about 10 other people, dinner, breakfast and drinks in the morning, a sleeping bag, a warm jacket and gloves, and entrance to the volcano nature park. It’s worth the money, every cent. And it’s also worth the 6 hours of difficult climb from 2300m to 3700m above the sea level. It’s worth the experience of a lifetime. You can hike up to the top yourself, sleep in your own tent or rent one already set up, and pay for a vehicle to transport you most of the way. But this walking alone turns out to be hiking with some higher personal goal. We walked the whole way up in fog, and it rained briefly when we reached base camp, which further diminished the experience. Until when at half past midnight a huge explosion rumbled and knocked us all out of bed. And I didn’t go back to sleep because it couldn’t be missed. The eruption lasted a full 20 minutes, which isn’t very often.
Even Acantenango is an active volcano that last erupted in 1986, but it’s been quiet since then, so it’s like an okay, safe and peaceful area now. All of that, knowing where you are and what surrounds you, the possibility that a stronger explosion could happen right then and there and cover everything, makes you think about life and leaves a mark. You carry with you the thought that you are very fragile, easily erased. You don’t know if your steps are easier or harder because of that, whether it makes sense to consider yourself someone who leaves any mark at all. In the long run, no, in the short run, counting human time, yes, because that’s what drives us forward – our own existence and the materialization of the universe in our form. Existence for the sake of existence and happening. Both us and the volcano. That thought somehow connects you to every eruption and you realize again that you are actually an important part of this colorful ball in which everything makes sense even though nothing seems to make sense.
After this essay about the volcano and a sleepless night staring at the top of the volcano, I can only add that each and every muscle was aching 5 days afterwards, but at least we knew why, and we will remember.
El Salvador
Whatever you think about El Salvador, as so did we before we started preparing for the trip, the truth is a little different. The change has happened in the last few years and El Salvador has gone from being the most dangerous country in Central America to one of the safest countries in the region.
How? As soon as it would get dark, people would lock themselves in their homes. Gangs controlled everything and their street law ruled. Due to the high murder rate, the president issued a program that arrested over 80,000 alleged gang members in 2022, of which over 40,000 ended up behind bars for life, serving consecutive sentences. During his term, the crime rate dropped by 98%, and he also invested state money and introduced Bitcoin payments, which finally made the country prosper.
People say that it is incredible and still very strange that they can even leave the house with their family in the evening, let alone take a walk without fear. And that children can finally play in the street. A huge change in just 3 years. You can see it in the people, they are still relaxing. Of course, there are still no-go areas in the capital, and it’s not like there’s no crime at all. High walls surround the courtyards and bars are on all of the openings. There’s no street parking here at night. We can’t even fathom that on a hot summer evening we can’t sit out on the street with our family or go for an ice cream because murders happen on the streets every day.
Salvador has a whole series of volcanoes, one even with a sulfur lake on top but we were too late to visit that one (the universe told us no, despite all our willpower with our muscles still sore from Acatenango climb); warm rivers heated by natural underground cauldrons; black volcanic beaches, lush vegetation and everything that a hot little country with a coast on the Pacific Ocean can offer to seduce you. We really liked it. It is just waking up, just realizing what it can do and I hope that people will soon realize that they can do better. All these hostels, rooms and apartments, and even their better hotels might not be acceptable to many people because of their appearance and construction. It is either warm or it is hot here, so apart from a good roof when the summer rains fall, they don’t need much more. If they are not made of concrete, the walls are made of a single layer of boards or sheet metal, just to protect a little from dust and views. Hammocks hang everywhere, comfortable rope armchairs are the main thing on the porches. What else do you need when the weather is always pleasant, or uncomfortably hot and you just lack fresh air?
I won’t even talk about hygiene in roadside and hostel toilets. Very often there is a bucket of water that you have to pour into the toilet, it’s great when there is water to wash your hands in the sink. I’m talking about facilities along the road and in rural areas. I don’t know of any better because I’m not interested in it on the road, honestly, and if I had more money I wouldn’t need much more to rest my bones and take a shower. And yes, after we left the heights of Guatemala, there are no hot showers everywhere because they simply not needed. Now it’s winter for them too, it’s a little cold, but the water in the pipes warms up during the day so that little bit of warmth is welcome. We drove around the capital, San Salvador, in search of filters, oil and small items for motorcycles, and it doesn’t look like the above description of everything that isn’t a city, don’t be fooled. As soon as we entered the country, we immediately noticed that everyone was wearing helmets, unlike Guatemala, which immediately indicated that order had been introduced here. People are still shy, they look at you and greet you, without any sidethought, minding their own business, except for the thought of where do you come from to their small country.
This photo shows a motorcycle shop in the small town of Ahuachapan in El Salvador.
Normally, there are 4-5 male and female hostesses in front of the shop, I only caught two. They stand and invite you to enter the shop as if they were selling vegetables at the market, not cars.
Motorcycles are such a common and standard vehicle here that they are sold in a bank (separated only by a wall and a door – motorcycles and white goods are sold together), in a travel agency and a supermarket. Upon arrival in front of the hostel, we first parked in front of the shop where they looked at us with mocking smiles and question marks over their heads as to what we were driving. Invited by their reaction, we later entered the shop, and when they realized where we were from and where the motorcycles were from, they couldn’t believe it. They couldn’t believe all the travel some small, ridiculous Chinese motorcycles unimportant to them, have done and will do.
So far, along the way we saw maybe 3 motorcycles with a capacity of 400 cc. Everything else is 125 to 150 cc, 250 cc maximum. Hondas are sold here, Colombian AKT and Freedom brands and some others unknown to us. The price for a Honda XR125 is 1399 dollars. Cheap. We were shocked realizing we have paid the same price for used 250 cc engines. BUT, if you buy the same Honda in installments (and who does especially here have the money for a one-time payment, having in mind a motorcycle is a must-have) – the price for 60 installments rises to about 6000 dollars!
As for mechanic workshops and shops, they are everywhere. Akrapovič exhausts are about 100$ and they are also available in shops in the villages. In one shop we couldn’t find the right oil for us, but we exchanged money. In another we adjusted the valves, and while you wait you get a bag of water, of which there are plenty here, including those discarded in nature. In the third shop where we bought filters, oil and other things – at the end we had an interview for the shop’s TikTok profile because the owner runs some kind of social corner for bikers in San Salvador!
The Spirit of the mountain
The most bumpy roads lead to the most beautiful places.
Certainly the most expensive place to sleep in a (your own) tent in El Salvador – $11 per person. But it’s worth it. Every bump of huge round volcanic rocks on the sometimes 15% climb that the Lifan’s shock absorbers absorbed. It’s worth watching the sun rise over the Pacific at dawn. And the islands of El Salvador, Honduras, and Nicaragua in the distance.
Honduras
The next country in our passports was Honduras.
There is not much I can say about the country because we passed through it within 4 hours from the Salvadorian border to the other where we entered Nicaragua. The most beautiful beaches are on the Caribbean side of the coast, and the narrowest part is closer to the Pacific where we passed. Unfortunately, we didn’t have as much time as we had originally planned, three months, or even two months, the Central American trip only lasted a month and a half, but enough to pass through countries, and get even a brief glimpse into Honduras. Stamps in passports, i.e. entry or exit from all these countries, are legally charged, and the prices vary from $1 to $12. Sometimes you pay a dollar to enter, and $8 to exit, like in Nicaragua.
To enter a country with a vehicle, you get a TIP (Temporary Import Permit) document that allows your vehicle to stay in the country for a certain period of time, which is usually 3 months and is obtained free of charge. Only in Honduras the TIP is charged, and it is $35 per vehicle, one-time entry. We compared it to paying for a single entry visa in Mauritania, their way of making money as people just pass through the country on their onward journey. So does Honduras for vehicles, since the famous Pan American route passes through this side of the country on the Pacific, a highway that connects the tip of Alaska with Ushuaia at the extreme edge of Argentina.
After we got our passports stamped upon entering Honduras, all the border offices lost power just as it was our turn for the TIP, so the officer had to drive back to the El Salvador border to print out the documents and return after about 40 minutes with the process completed. He apologized several times, explaining that someone had cut the wires in all the offices. Then we understood why the police had entered the office and suddenly startled all the officers present, waking them up from their afternoon nap after lunch. Quickly, the standard slowness that prevails in every part of the day and process disappeared. We left the border following partly Pan American highway, an intercontinental highway actually mostly in poor condition in Central American countries, full of potholes and bumps, making everyone drive slower so the little Lifans proved to be a very smart choice again.
Nicaragua
There comes a moment when social media actually serves its purpose, which is to bring people together. Communicating through the Facebook page of Pan American passengers, we received an invitation to stop in Antigua, Guatemala at a pizzeria run by another Pan Am passenger, who treats all motorcycle passengers and shares his travel experiences. There we met people, travelers, and also a motorcycle traveler Vincenzo from Italy who is also going to Ushuaia with his Africa Twin. We also accepted another invitation, which was to come to a hostel on the Pacific coast of Nicaragua. That hostel is run by the Italian Adriano, a motorcyclist who has traveled a lot in his life and decided to open a surfer/motorcycle hostel in Nicaragua because he liked the relaxed attitude of the people and the flexibility of starting a business and checks/givings when you first open something. Something that is lost in Italy, and in most of Europe, so after 37 years of working as a chef in Italy, he decided to go where everything is somehow more human.
On the way to the hostel our plan was to stay for a day, maybe two if we liked it, and in the end we stayed for 6 days because we found our brother from another mother! You know when you click with someone right away, and later you realize it was justified because we really think and look at life similarly. And when you meet Adrian and his spirit, no one can remain indifferent to that openness and love for life and people!
As soon as we arrived, we realized that he had also communicated with Vincenzo, so we made Vincenzo arrive at Adriano’s the next day because he wasn’t far away. These are the moments, days, and people that are remembered in life, they mean a lot on a trip, and even later in life because they leave a strong impression. That good strong impression, because not only bad things leave a mark, but also good ones and you need to recognize them, accept them with an open heart and carry them with you further. For 6 days, Adriano’s hostel was our base for riding around or simply not moving, spending time with him and exchanging stories. Guests and bikers came and went, and we felt like hosts who, with Adriano, create an atmosphere of warm welcome and farewell. Finally, we ate well because he cooked for us, and in return we made čevapi, which he said he liked the most during his visit to the Balkans. I was so happy when the čevapi turned out well, considering that the only time I had ever kneaded them before was in Colombia 5 years ago!
We also met bikers from Nicaragua, the whole world of their motorcycle culture, and there are even more sub-types of motorcycle clubs within them than we have in Croatia – in addition to the well-known MC and something like our MK, there is also RK (riders’ club), SK (sports motorcycle drivers’ club), etc… because I couldn’t remember all of them. And in addition, we joined the world organization of bikers, and with that Boris and I became the first Croatians to join the organization! We are involved in events, questions, help, and we are here for all bikers who pass through our part of the globe, just like before, but it’s nice to be connected with bikers on another, higher level.
The Ring of Fire
You probably have the same thought in mind as we did when we were asked what it represents. It has nothing to do with Johnny Cash, but it has to do with volcanoes. Extinct, active, all the volcanoes on the Pacific coasts of all countries from South America to Japan, and there are 900 of them. We learned that and much more on this trip.
If we are surprised by the Italians living at the foot of an extinct volcano that once covered the entire city and the surrounding area, what can we think of the people who live at the foot of active volcanoes? We have seen cases like Antigua in Guatemala more than once, where the city was rebuilt every time after an eruption, only to finally abandon it because it no longer made sense to rebulid it. That is how Guatemala City was created, when people finally left Antigua, but then returned at it again. The same thing happened to the city of Leòn, which is now the archaeological site of Leòn Viejo, and the new city is 40km away. We stayed near both in our Adrian’s hostel and visited everything we could.
In this case, we set out to eat whatever fish we could on the shores of Lake Xolotlán under the active Momotombo volcano, but all the restaurants were still under water from too much rain the last two months. The waters of the rivers are still pouring heavily into the lake, so the roads around the lake are also submerged, which made us change the route several times that day. We just rode around on the volcanic dust trails roads looking for a way to the lookout point on the lake, the one in the crater of the volcano right next to Momotombo. Little by little, such scenes and smoke from the tops of volcanoes have become almost normal, everyday scenery.
What is it like to live in areas that are risky for life in the sense that one eruption can wipe out everything around you? Well, simply, habit and necessity.
The land around a volcano is extremely rich, so why leave such a land. You live having a thought in mind – “it won’t happen while we’re alive” or maybe – “let it sweep me away, I don’t care”. It’s hard to leave something that’s the only thing you know. A person is largely made up of what they are used to, what surrounds them, and we realize this when we travel. We miss olive oil in our food, with lots of greenery and juicy sauces, and they don’t need it. I miss the smell of pine trees combined with the smell of the salty sea and there is none on the ocean, but that’s why we smell pineapples everywhere on our ride. I love pancetta, there are no smoked products here because of the climate. We have the best stone house while here only one row of boards is enough to protect a bit from the views and rain, and so on.
The biggest challenges of traveling are what happens inside us, our attitude and perception of the environment. How will we find and position ourselves in all this, what will we sacrifice for how much to gain? Our comfort and safety for experience and adventure, how far does it go? It is individual for everyone, but on trips, it seems to me, we get to know ourselves more than other people, while we get to know everything around us. More static days like these when we rode less and socialized and rested more, create space for impressions of the past period when you can stop and think without absorbing new experiences. You travel for one reason, and discover a hundred more.
I never count trips, or short journeys, in kilometers, but in what they bring.
Volcano boarding
We climbed a volcano again… And went down – with a board!
One of the three volcanoes in the world where you can snowboard down a volcano is Cerro Negro in Nicaragua. The youngest and most active volcano in the country, whose last eruption occurred in 1999 and you can clearly see the border of sooty black lava and green vegetation around it. For the first time, we clearly saw the edge where the lava reached and swallowed everything under it, creating an edge of liveliness and gloom. Like living matter that eats everything and suddenly decides to stop. Brutal.
Boarding down a volcano was invented right here on Cerro Negro by a madman, just like all of us who came up there. We climbed for half an hour to descend in two minutes. Aaaah, I would do it again, and next time I wouldn’t brake at all on the descent!
I gotta say it wasn’t so funny when we looked down the hill, down an almost vertical slope, and take it as normal that you would descend on a board without any brakes. But, come on, if those before us survived, then so could’ve we. Now that we’ve done it, I really want to board down one more time, but this time fully relaxed and with no braking… Jeez, I just need to be sent and I’ll go wherever!
Almost a program interruption: Lost or stolen motorcycle documents in Nicaragua
The small island of Ometepe was created by two volcanoes that rose and connected in Lake Cocibolca. The very exciting ferry ride to the island takes an hour. It is mostly exciting because the small overloaded ferry rocks left and right and in all directions, and the water splashes all the vehicles. Watching the splashing of the motorcycles and everything on them, I felt sorry for them until I remembered that it was not the sea and not salt water, but fresh water and that finally the motorcycles were getting a well-deserved wash, at least some kind of it. We drove around the island in a figure eight shape and most of it was a gravel road, one part even next to the sea so much that it flows across the road. All of this was interesting and relaxed until the next morning when Boris realized that his vehicle documents were missing.
The morning before we left our Italian friend Adriano’s hostel with Luke, an American travelling on a CRF 450, and together we had set off for Ometepe Island. We bought food at the store so we could all have lunch on the ferry together and then each of us would go our separate ways on the island. Upon arriving at the port, we first paid a dollar per head tax as a tourist tax to visit the island, then tickets for ourselves and our motorbikes, then some fees for transporting the motorbike on the ferry, and then we had to write down our passport number on the transport agency’s paper. A lot of work and fees for a regular ferry, but okay, guess it’s worth it, we thought. Then they told us that there was only room for two motorbikes on the ferry, and Luke had to get on the later one an hour and a half behind us. Hungry, we plucked some chickens together, shared some for later in all that hustle and bustle in the small port, and while we were taking out our passports to show at the entrance… Somewhere along the way, Boris either dropped or had all his documents stolen except his passport. Luckily it was in another waterproof pouch.
Ometepe is not a fancy island with high-budget accommodation, but a natural oasis of greenery with small, mostly wooden houses and an authentic experience. Completely the opposite of what we had imagined, and even better! After a circle in the shape of a figure eight around the island, we arrived at our accommodation just in the dark and before the rain, and then the electricity went out for two hours on the entire island. A real domestic experience! And in the morning, a shock – pouch with all the documents was missing. We drove around the island again, with stops to check if the documents had fallen out where we had stopped the previous day, checked the video tape at the gas station, but nothing… The owner of the accommodation also helped us by posting pictures of the same pouch of documents that we had sent her in the island Facebook group they have, with a note that a stranger was looking for them. Any help and sympathy was a ray of hope of finding them.
That day, we turned over all options – contacted Croatian embassy, rolled over options from leaving the motorcycle in Nicaragua with Adriano because the motorcycle cannot leave the country without documents to coming up to illegal solutions. The last one was the only saving grace, in addition to the fact that we were ready to pay $100 at the border for the loss of TIP. Everything was an option just to continue the journey. Because the only motorcycle document we have is a handwritten ornate paper from a small office in Belize and that’s it. And on my document, instead of a motorcycle brand, a motorcycle model is written, so I have to explain that at the border as well almost every time.
And when we calmed down with that semi-legal solution, a message arrived in Boris’s Facebook messenger at 10pm. Boris was contacted being asked $100 for the documents, with the indication that the documents were found, not stolen. Whatever, a small sum to continue the journey. With the photo confirmation that the person really has the documents, we immediately dressed up in motorcycle gear and vests of our clubs, with ready knives and a steel bar that was visibly sticking out of Boris’s vest. Upon arriving at the city park at that shady dark hour, some small, dried-up guy called us and immediately asked if we had any money. When we replied affirmative and asked to show us the documents first, he pulled them out of the bush. International driver’s license, motorcycle insurance and most importantly, motorcycle papers, everything was there, crammed into a bag. We gave him the money and shocked but happily drove to the hostel where we were staying that night in case anyone would call about the found documents. Good call on that.
There is a high probability that the whole pouch fell out of his leg bag because we were hungry and rushed to get ready before the ferry, showing our documents and repacking. Or maybe they were masterfully stolen from his leg bag because he hadn’t closed it properly in all the rush. Half an hour after we got back to the hostel, the same guy started sending messages if we were up for scoring some cocaine, crack and even women, so it all became funny, brought tears of laugher to us. Tears of relief after the whole day of just contemplating on what to do. What exactly happened will forever remain a mystery, and the whole event will be a memory for us for life, and man, what a memory.
Costa Rica
The record for crossing the border is held by Nicaraguan – Costa Rican border… a total of 7 hours!
We didn’t even care when we got our documents back the night before, everything was just great. We started crossing in prime time around 11am when all the buses were there, so we waited an hour and a half in line to get our passport stamped. We also had a drama about the multi-tool attached to Boris’s belt, where we had to declare that it was not a weapon but a tool because we were traveling by motorbike. And the fact that we had a machete of about 40cm hidden on our motorbike, that doesn’t matter, it’s an everyday tool! The thing is – if a machete is up to 45cms long it is a tool and if it is longer than it is considered a weapon.
We really didn’t feel like waiting in line for the motorbike X-ray and then having to go through a process of declaring the machete. So when the customs officer said we were going to have it X-rayed, we frantically started taking everything out of all our bags so he just said “ok, ok, put everything back, you don’t have to go through X-ray”. That saved us at least another hour. We had bought the machete in Belize at the same place as all of the motorcycle repair tools, travelled with it, passed borders and never had any problems. Why the machete? Just because. Having a machete with us wasn’t just a matter of safety (and we haven’t felt unsafe for a second in all this travel) but for the sake of once in a life owning a machete. Riding around with a machete. Movie like experience!
The customs officer checked the record, and only then were we able to cancel the vehicle’s TIP.
At that time, our American friend Luke informed us that the queue at the entrance to Costa Rica had already been 5 hours. Upon arriving to Costa Rican border, we parked on the side and decided to invest our time in something more interesting until the queue narrowed. We chatted with vendors and money changers and socialized with an American couple who have been traveling their entire lives, and have been living mostly in their camper for years. After about 2 hours, the queue cleared so we just walked into the office, and from so many people at the border that day, they didn’t even ask us anything, not even where we were staying or when we were leaving the country and they are usually very strict about that. Process of TIP and insurance didn’t last long, but it had already gotten dark, so we decided to sleep that night near our friends in the camper – next to the gas station after the border!
It was the only time on the entire trip that we slept “wild” in a tent. We felt somehow safer with our friends nearby, even though there were a lot of trucks that use the gas station as a standard sleeping stop before or after the border. But we were the only ones in the tent, and Costa Rica, the richest of all these countries, is actually the most dangerous. Not only that, but we had finally understood what Emma was explaining to us about why there is no wild camping in Central America – absolutely all private land is fenced off with wire for various reasons, and where the land is not private, it is such a jungle that you can’t even set foot on it, let alone put a tent in all that vegetation and who knows what animals. If the bushes aren’t tall, you can’t approach it from the road on a motorbike because of the high drains. It was hard for us to understand until we saw it, but now we understand.
Second night in Costa Rica, but this time the camp was in a much more beautiful place – right on the ocean!
It couldn’t have been closer and we couldn’t sleep so peacefully because of the loud sound of the ocean waves. 7 dollars per person to camp in your own tent, with an outdoor makeshift shower and toilet that looked like it came out of a field.
Costa Rica is an expensive country, prices in stores are almost the same as in our country, and everything else is more or less the same price, especially in tourist destinations where there is pizza, burgers and espresso coffee at every turn. We managed to find a camp for locals because, of course – it was the cheapest!
Pura vida 🌴
As soon as we crossed the border, everything seemed to have become different. And yet everything was the same, houses, landscapes, vehicles, people.
However, all of nature seemed to be in order, even the jungle-like parts, as if someone was trimming and cleaning them. The first thing that comes to mind is garbage. Unlike the previous countries, there is no garbage here, not even in the most remote parts along the road. And even here, it seems as if someone is cleaning the jungle a little here and there. That’s how much they care about the country. A big difference from what we were used to until then, which is garbage absolutely everywhere. Guatemala is the leader in carelessness here, so along the way we also saw mini-dumps of people who throw garbage of all kinds right under their terraces.
As we rode deeper into the country, we noticed that a lot of things are actually different here. Costa Rica is a vacation and retirement country for North Americans, so we saw a lot of completely typical northern American scenery of people mowing their perfect lawns of the beautiful houses they have settled into to enjoy their retirement days. Everyone is mowing so much that we thought everyone was doing that and nothing else! Every blade of grass is in its place, nothing stands out, no unfinished parts, no faded paint on the walls. Everything is so organized, almost perfect, just like in movies. We were sorry because we realized that we had already stepped into a less authentic and exotic world in terms of old fashioned lifestyle. We began to smell capitalism and heavy modernism.
Okay, not all houses are made of brick and painted perfectly, but you can see the difference. In small towns, the spirit of simplicity and originality still lives. But the roads are in much better condition, cars are more expensive, there are many foreigners living there, and the genes of the natives are less evident on people’s faces. Our spirit of adventure has even begun to wane because everything is written in English, there is espresso and Americano to order everywhere, and we are offered dishes for which we know what we will get when we order.
We also noticed that there are no more mechanic shops every now and then, no more small shops that sell everything and anything, no greasy roasteries on carts and tacos in someone’s yard. Order has been introduced here, so it seems as that the behaviour has been lost, the one when you enter one shop and if by chance they don’t have something, they send you to another one who invents something and gets what you need and knows where to send you for that other thing you are missing. Without any effort and ingenuity, just to help you, because it is human.
At one point we even felt insecure because it was gone. Everything became like in the civilized world, precisely defined and separated from each other, sorted, somewhat sterile and devoid of spirit. At least that’s how we experienced it, going through it all with a motorcycle and our spirit. And we had good examples from before to compare because everything left a mark of feeling and atmosphere.
The capital city of San Jose came as a shock to us with all the skyscrapers, traffic and huge illuminated advertisements. And the biggest spiked fences from top to bottom and around the houses. Every window has bars, and every yard is fenced with barbed prison wire, sometimes double. The Heredia block we passed through on the way into the city, we saw on the news the next day because a guy was shot while trying to defend his motorcycle from being stolen. And that happened right around the time of our arrival, so that gave it an even creepier note. We parked the motorbikes in the fenced yard of the big hostel, but the host told us to move them away from the fence so that someone passing by does not get a chance of reaching from the motorbike and pulling something from it. The fact that the cameras are there means nothing.
Money makes the biggest difference between people and it shows here.
And as far as nature and tourism are concerned, Costa Rica is a paradise.
A walk through the chocolate plantations.
Discovering a new world of plants and animals.
Making your own chocolate.
The seeds of the fruit are extracted from a large purple fruit on a tree, they have a sweet shell that curls up, and inside it is a cocoa bean, with a nutty texture. But juicy and bitter, it is reminiscent of dark chocolate, but much tastier, fuller.
It’s called the food of the gods.
Panamá
We ate the last of our 4 pâtés on the way to Panamá, the last country on this trip.
It was a hot afternoon and it was liquid, almost too much. It almost spilled on the floor!
We barely found a tree along the road for a little shade so we could rest while the Lifans cooled down.
The 1.1l capacity ones have to be cooled down every hour and a half so they can take in gas and breathe. That’s when we rest our spines and refresh ourselves.
Upon entering Panama, we noticed that there were no more motorcycles on the road. Regardless of the climate suitable for riding all year round, it’s simply not fun here, people prefer to cram into cars and crowd the roads, wait in lines and waste time of their lives to look for parking spaces.
That’s why passersby come up to us, honk their horns and wave because motorcyclists are a rare sight in the country. Especially those with overloaded motorcycles from who knows where and who knows where they’re going.
We also noticed that some people look down on us on the road and in the city, they don’t appreciate motorcycles at all and take away the right of way because we are just a nuisance on the road in this driving culture.
It’s interesting how in one country you are a legend when they see you as a passenger on a motorcycle from afar, and in another you are a dirty bum.
Panamá city – The last stop on this trip.
A megacity full of everything. A well-organized and nice, rich business city. Although of course, in the suburbia of the city is a completely different situation.
We ride in wonder with our mouths and eyes open in all directions – from the forest of tall skyscrapers, from the diversity of nature and society around us, to the unusual construction of the road in the ocean that goes around the old city to avoid traffic jams. Now we spin along huge avenues, just driving to see as much of the city as possible. The old colonial houses on the edge of the ocean are not even visible from the huge skyscrapers that surround them. All the same, everything is WOW to us just because it is huge and tidy.
The old part of the city has also been moved here by about 15 km from the original location, but not because of a volcanic eruption but because Captain Morgan set it on fire in the 17th century. The Captain Morgan whose name the rum bears!
Costa Rica was a good introduction to Panamá, modernism and a return to what is more familiar to us, less exotic in its own way.
It was the final leg of the journey, with one foot already home.
A must-see in the area is the Panamá Canal, which deserves its own section.
The Panamá Canal.
Who would have thought that we would ever see it in our lifetime, this modern architectural marvel. Let alone see it from start to finish, from the Pacific to the Atlantic. Or vice versa, depending on which side you enter and exit. We rode along it and were at both ends.
It doesn’t seem like a spectacular process when you’re on a ship waiting for permission to pass because you can wait all day, and the process can take just as long. You might get stuck halfway in Gatun Lake if you’re too big, so you have to wait the next day because due to some currents, the largest ships in the newer deep canal only go in one direction in the morning, and in the other direction only in the afternoon.
But it’s great to watch how ships are brought into the basin by cable trains, and the basin empties to make room for the next basin. It takes about an hour to enter one basin and sail out. Then into the next. There are 8 pools and all of them use the same procedure to move ships from one side of the continent to the other, sailing through an artificial lake to create a waterway. What an interesting feat of humanity.
We didn’t expect the visitor center to be so well organized. With informative guidance over the loudspeaker, you can follow the ships and see the pools up close. The reason was that at the time of our visit, a huge cruise ship was passing by, so we waved at each other from close up, and the Panamanian captain waved his flag and honked his horn. To some, it might seem like a banal thing for the masses, but being there and seeing it all with your own eyes is something that will blow your mind.
Wow, being on the Panamá Canal.
End of the journey… FOR NOW!
We meet again with the motorbikes in Colombia in November and continue in the same style to the end of the world – Tierra del Fuego in Argentina!
We did not sell or abandon the Chinese, but left them in the care of the E-Cargo agency, which deals with transport on the Panama – Colombia route.
The Darien Gap is about 80 km of pure jungle and wilderness without any signs or signals, but with lots of wild animals, immigrants and who knows what else. After that, to get to Colombia, we would have to change two fishing boats that would illegally transfer us to the Colombian coast, so we would have to drive to the first customs. And Colombia has made such an intrusion into the country extremely strict, logically. That is the only part where the PanAm highway breaks. After a lot of research, we concluded that this venture was too adventurous for us and the little Lifans, not that we really want to be greeted with guns on the shore.
Upon our request, the agency will send the motorbikes to Colombia where we will buy them and embark on a South American adventure.
Tips and useful information
- Gas stations are often sight along the road everywhere except in Costa Rica and Panama. Currently price varies from the cheapest in El Salvador (1$ per liter) to the most expensive in Costa Rica (1,5$ per liter). Having a tank gas filter is recommendable.
- We have seen police checkpoints only in Costa Rica and Panama but were not puled over or asked anything.
- Dollar is accepted everywhere, but it is better to have local currency is travelling to less touristy places. Paying for taxes and TIPs at borders can also be done in dollars, but it is recommendable to have smaller bills.
- Acommodation is easy to find through various booking apps, we used Booking.com and AirBnb and looked into it day by day, but also asked the locals and relied on iOverland app and would just show up at the acommodation without previous call.
- Camps can be found mostly only south of Guatemala. Wild camping spot is not so easy to find here, would have to look further for a spot out of sight and with no high vegetation or animals.
- Street food is approximately 5$ per person for a main dish, depending on the meal. That is mostly the only option outside of cities and only local food is served. But, take note that a lot of meals are prepared with coconut oil which has laxative effects, if used every day and body not used to it, such in our case.
- We haven’t felt unsafe not for a second anywhere. But we also did not visit or stay for long in big cities. Villages and small towns have a more pleasant and relaxed vibe, friendlier people. When staying in a big city make sure to have acommodation with a secure parking for motorcycle as they are often easy to steel.
