Trans Americas 2009 - The Blog

With all the excitement of our reconnaissance mission, I woke early, around 5.45am, just as Jim was leaving the room, so showered and finished packing then went and called Tracy in hospital via Skype. She sounded much better than yesterday, but was obviously still tired, and with me having 3 fairly heavy days ahead until we get to Panama, it was the only chance I'd get to speak to her. After a quick breakfast we were all ready to leave, the advance party comprising just 6 of us: Kevin, Nigel, Aaron, Nick, Al, and me.... only Aaron's bike wouldn't start so we were down to 5 straight away.

We left the hotel and made swift progress, riding as a group, passing through more rainforest, which then started to live up to its name by raining... a quick stop to don waterproofs and off again, cruising at a steady 60-ish despite the downpour. The rain didn't last long and soon we were getting wet from the inside, the humidity still a problem, especially without the cooling breeze flowing through our jackets. A stop for fuel gave us chance to get out of the waterproofs and buy some more cold water for our camelbaks, and whilst we were stood around, Aaron arrived, having jump-started his bike. So we were 6 again...

On the way to the border we entered banana plantation country, huge great fields full of banana trees all with blue bags hanging on the bunches of precious fruit. Interspersed amongst the fields were the homes of the farm workers, little wooden shacks with washing strung outside, the kids playing in the mud, and stopping to wave as we rode past. But we were on a mission, so had little time to stop and admire the scenery, instead watching it fly past as we hurtled along, the Caribbean to our left just beyond the banana plantations, coming into view every now and then, the smell of the ocean mingling with the smells of the plants. And then we were there, at the border, and right in front of us, the dreaded banana bridge...





For those that don't know, the banana bridge is as scary as it looks, the wooden planks either side of the train tracks the only way to ride across... and there a large gaps in places between the planks, and at some stages the planks were missing altogether, reducing the number on which we could ride from 3 to 2... But before we could attempt to ride across, we had to clear ourselves and the bikes out of Costa Rica. The passport office had a small queue outside, so we took our place and waited patiently, filling in the exit-forms we'd been given before handing them and our passports over and getting the requisite stamp. Then into the air-conditioned office where we filled in some more forms and handed over the temporary importation permit, which were then stamped and entered into the computer before a copy of our exit documentation printed and handed over... in all it took just over 5 minutes per bike, but we were in no rush... the next step was to attempt to ride over the bridge...

Kevin walked across first to check which side was in better condition, concluding that the left side was our best option, the right having several sections where there was only one badly damaged plank, which would have made for a very hazardous crossing... And so it was time... we girded our loins and rode over two at a time, with ample space between us should we fall. Kevin and Nick went first, and had no problems, then Aaron and Al and finally me and Nigel – and we all got across without incident, the ride actually fairly easy, the problems all psychological...








With the bikes parked up ready to be fumigated (they weren't, but we still had to pay!), we took off our jackets and loaded them on a table, then the heat and humidity hit us and we started literally pouring with sweat. How simply crossing a bridge from one country to another can result in such a huge difference in temperature and humidity is beyond me... And then we had to commence entry procedures to get us and the bikes into Panama. First task was to get our passports stamped, which didn't really take very long (and for once didn't cost anything!), then we needed to get some copies of our insurance in order to get the bike permits (we also needed copies of our passports, driving licence and V5s, but we already had those). So off we went in search of a copier, in the heat... the first one we found ran out of toner so we had to walk a good couple of hundred yards to another copier machine, which also ran out as we were getting our last copy done... but with some judicious banging of the toner cartridge we managed to get them done, then walked all the way back to the office where we dripped all over the counter before we talked our way into the air-conditioned office... the 2 customs guys then processed our documents, entering details in the computer and printing off the permits, whilst we stood and dripped all over the floor, until we'd cooled down... then it was time to head back outside...

When we'd arrived at customs, we'd had to move the bikes and park them up on some waste ground, where we were immediately accosted by a big group of kids shouting “amigo, moto” and offering to look after the bikes. With all the paperwork now done, Kevin and I went into the supermarket and bought 11 ice-creams for the kids (and one each for us), before handing them out... Then we rode the 10 miles from the border to Changuinola and our hotel for the evening. Once checked in and showered, we headed straight to the air-conditioned bar for a beer, a nice bottle of the local beer – you can tell it's local by the name...





After a few beers, we went in search of food, and found some excellent shrimp fried rice in a roadside restaurant, then a bar with pool tables where we played some terrible pool (Kevin and I being unbeaten, but more by good fortune than skill) and drank cubra libre (rum and coke) out of plastic cups... then back to the hotel where we got chatting to the owner's brother, who was Syrian but had lived in Kent for 26 years and recently moved his family over to this tin-pot town in the middle of the banana plantations... he managed to convince the hotel to make us some fries and plantain, which helped soak up the other cuba libres we drank, before finally calling it a night when we'd had “elegant sufficiency” (or too many...). With the time zone in Panama being another hour ahead, we'd lost an hour as well, so it would be a short night and an early start to get back to the border for 8am (Panama time) to help the others across the bridge...