San Cristobal de las Casas to Quetzaltenango (Xela), Guatemala, 240 miles
We headed out of San Cristobal de las Casas around 9:30AM. Mike still had a bad stomach ache, but he sucked it up and we took off. The direction out of the city was very confusing and after riding through some small back alleys and climbing a couple mountains we found our way to the 190 highway that takes us to Guatemala. The landscape was beautiful again. The strange thing is that there are plenty of Pine trees here; yeah, Pine trees in Mexico, who would have thought? A lot of people living off the land and growing corn.
All of a sudden it was as if a street fair was taking place on the road, we followed the traffic in the direction we were going down a dirt road and into the depths of the ‘street fair’. There were people walking everywhere, little booths, chaos! While weaving through the crowd and wondering where the main highway went, we realized we had just crossed the Mexico/Guatemala border as a boy approached us asking for 12.50 to fumigate our bike. Of course Mike was hesitant to just pay, but after talking with migration we realized this is something that needed to be done. It was madness; I’m not sure what all those people were doing in such a festive fashion at the border crossing. Right out front of the immigration booth there was a few lady’s on microphones with some sweet synthesizer Mexican tunes running, singing their hearts out. It was so deafening, that Mike and I couldn’t even hear each other. Through all that noise and chaos, we were able to get all the necessary paperwork in about an hour! Pretty nice and a big surprise to both of us.
As soon as we entered Guatemala the hill sides became steep and dramatic; beautiful canyons and rivers with a nice cool breeze as we rode through the clouds. The road was decent until the occasional giant chunk of road missing and there were very few topes.
Pemex, the only gasoline station we ever encountered in Mexico (besides the folks selling it out of 1 gallon milk jugs) is a thing of the past. We have entered a world of many types of gas stations. Texaco, Esso, Exon – you name it, they have it. I guess the government is in charge of oil in Mexico…Interesting…
So back to my mixed feelings about the people. As we were driving down the road a little kid threw an empty can right at us and laughed. We never got that in Mexico, thanks for the welcome hombre! On the other hand we had a nice couple give us some of the most caring directions we’ve received this entire trip just now. The thing we learned in Mexico is that if you want directions, you will get directions, always an answer, but most likely it isn’t correct. They tend to want to tell you something, even if they don’t know.
We got into Xela around 4PM. This is where we will be taking a week of Spanish classes. We checked out a couple of schools and the ‘boarding’ that comes along with it. The first place was a little old lady who showed us her place in a courtyard. The room for sure isn’t the ritz and to be honest I’m a little afraid! The second home was much worse and all of a sudden the boarding with the courtyard and old lady don’t seem so bad. I know Mike wants to stay hosted with a family, so I will try to suck up my cleanliness ways for a week for him.
Xela itself seems nice, although the young kids here I am not fond of. I spent some time watching the bike while Mike talked with the school people. It’s the same group of kids, walking around the square, over and over. Wearing their little outfits, acting tough… That’s all fine and dandy until one of the girls throws some trash at my bike while I’m sitting right next to it. Oh hell no she didn’t! I wanted to say something. She was sucking on a lollipop and glaring down at me. Man! If we were only just passing through this town I would have given her a piece of my mind and reality! I realized though that since we’ll be here for a week and I’ve already seen her a few times walking up and down the square that it might be best to refrain from the rude poorly spoken Spanish words and just stand up (I am twice her size). So I did, and I bit my tongue; but it was hard.
One of the sweetest things in Guatemala thus far is their busses. Talk about Pimp My Ride. It’s the real deal here with each bus custom fitted by the driver. Chrome, flames, ladies, the whole deal. Each one with its own personality; bad ass drivers.
That’s it. We’re in our hotel room now. Supposedly one of the ‘cleaner’ hotels. Um…yeah… I guess I’ll have to get used to a whole new level of clean! It’ll do – I’ve got the tent pitched on the bed; my piece of mind.
Haulin' Firewood
This picture doesn't do the chaotic Guatemalan border justice
Sweet ride Pedro
Guatemalan vista
Yo Guatemala, pimp my Schoolbus!
5 point turnaround (dead end - whoops)
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