Nicaragua tranquillo time

"We must be able to release the life we thought we would have in order to have the one that is waiting for us" Joseph Campbell. I love that man. "Amor Fati" The love of your fate.

I have a little request for anyone reading this blog... Send me a message! Say something! It gets a little lonely on the road. Thanks. My e-mail is rogercorbeil@hotmail.com or catch me on facebook.

I am now in Leon, Nicaragua at the Bigfoot hostel. I've been here for a week. Had some repairs done to my motorcycle and my teeth. I got Moctezuma's revenge in southern Mexico, and was planning on making a bee-line for Costa Rica where I was told it was safe and beautiful. But now that I've been in Nicaragua for a while and see how beautiful and friendly the people are, I've decided I'll stay another couple of weeks and take some Spanish lessons.

arriving Bigfoot hostel

smart traveller

scheherazade calls me Che around the hostel

Before leaving Ojai on my trip, Elena my dance partner treated me to an amazing Chinese massage. It was the best massage I've ever had. I have no idea how much it was for that massage, and I thank Elena so much for that big treat. I think of that massage as I go in for my massage in Leon, at the Organizacion Revolutionarios Discapacitados - Organization of the Handicapped Revolutionaries of Nicaragua. A blind mind gives me a pretty good massage for $15 an hour. Not the quality of the Chinese one I had in Ojai, mind you, but still good. And I can afford it. Private dance lessons at $10 an hour. Internet access for $0.50 an hour. A coffee at a fancy restaurant is $0.50. The hostel, with a pool, is $6 a night. No wonder there are so many backpackers from all over the world here. The big thing to do here is volcano surfing, which I will try a little later. The people in this city are amazingly friendly, and quite proud of their part in the revolution. It seems a number of Leon university students were killed by government forces for their support of the revolutionaries. I had my teeth cleaned for $20, and four cavities filled for $75. Do you know the definition of a cynic? Someone who knows the price of everything, but the value of nothing. I hope I don't sound like a penny-pinching cheapskate, but I do need to stretch my dollar as far as it can go... And as far as I can tell Nicaragua is pretty darn good place to get a few things taken care of. Like Spanish lessons and private salsa lessons for $10 an hour. I think I'm just on a reconnaissance mission for when my daughters go travelling. I don't know if it is tongue in cheek or not, but under the sign for the Organizacion Revolutionarios Discapacitados is the inscription of Cmdte: Che Guevara. I love the way another hostel guest, Scheherazade always calls me "Che".

beach at Mulege

beach at Mulege

beach at Mulege

approach to my favorite hot springs Baja California

approach to my favorite hot springs Baja California

approach to my favorite hot springs Baja California

hot springs are flooded

hot springs are flooded

funky hostel Cabo San Lucas

funky hostel Cabo San Lucas

approach to Mayra and Jason's hacienda

approach to Mayra and Jason's hacienda

jungle hacienda

jungle hacienda

jungle hacienda

jungle hacienda

jungle hacienda

Punta Mita

on Mexico coast road

on Mexico coast road

on Mexico coast road

on Mexico coast road

self-explanatory

on Mexico coast road

near Ixtapa

near Ixtapa

hotel near Ixtapa

hotel near Ixtapa

beach near Ixtapa

beach near Ixtapa

hotel near Ixtapa

beautiful Acapulco

Guatemala border

Carlos the Guatemalan border runner

stopping for food

Guatemalan youth loved my motorcycle

detour around missing bridge was rough

detour around missing bridge was rough

not all the beaches were pristine

Guatemala was very colorful, and the people very gentle and kind. Their commuter buses seemed to have souped-up engines and were quite decorated with bright paint. Their highways are wide enough for one and a half cars and made for some very confusing riding as it wasn't always clear who had the right of way. It also meant that a lot of drivers would force on-coming traffic way over to the right, assuming that since they had room, it was ok to push them over there... Crazy, man, crazy. And you can just imagine what they assume a motorcycle rider should be able to make to with for room...

I think of Barrie Pomerance's idea of roughing it at some of the places I stay in. His idea of roughing it is making do without the chocolate on the pillow.

El Salvador special $10

they forgot the chocolate on the pillow

hey it holds all my stuff!

Driving here is like being in a live auto and truck museum. You see everything. What a treat for yours truly.

Riding through Mexico and Central America has been quite the experience. I've heard it said that it is sometimes useful to have a high tolerance for ambiguity. I'm certain that is printed somewhere on every Mexican's driver's license.

I kept seeing a sign every couple of kilometers that read "No deja piedras sobre la carreterra". Now my spanish isn't perfect, but I was pretty sure that means "don't throw rocks on the highway". Every 2 KM, for hundreds of kilometers, I would see this sign. So I checked it out. Yup, that's what it means, all right. I can only imagine that at the mental hospitals the nurses take a perverse pleasure in telling their patients that when they are released, they should go throw rocks on the road. Don't laugh. A childhood friend of mine had a brother who had to go to the hospital after putting beans in his ears because he heard it in a song on the radio!

Another thing I find funny is the number of people who ask me if I am on this trip for business or pleasure... Like I've got a case of Canadian maple syrup in my saddlebags? Speaking of Canadian, I remember having fun developing a rivalry with American sports fans during the Olympics when I was in Ojai, southern California. In preparation for the final gold medal game between Canada and the USA, I went to several liquor stores trying so desperately to find some Molson Canadian beer. You know the one with the big maple leaf on it? Well, I wanted to greet people as they exited the bar after the game, handing them each a beer, and telling them "better luck next time, fellas" and "keep coming back, boys, keep coming back". Maybe it was lucky for my health that I couldn't find any.

A lot of people ask me age. I want to tell them about Groucho Marx's line when he asked a lady her age and she said "I'm approaching 50" and his reply was "Really! From which direction?"

I joke about how the important part our dog Mitzi's whole life really takes place three inches from her nose. Well, I'm noticing that a lot of my life now is centered around the roads I travel, and the drivers I meet along the way. I remember reading about how bad the roads were down here, but I just shrugged it off and thought "well, how bad can they really be". Pretty rough, actually. They have tons of speed bumps coming into every town, manholes without any covers, potholes so big I now carry pitons, crampons, and a length of rope just in case... The transport truck drivers will randomly swerve out of their lanes to avoid potholes. People everywhere have these little fires going to burn brush and stuff in their front yard. The smoke can get pretty thick sometimes. My biggest scare, though, came when I rounded a corner and was met by a dozen cows on the road. Usually I can find a spot to get through, but this time the lead cow could read my mind and moved to close the only lane possible. I screeched to a halt and learned a good lesson about playing "dodge the cows". I remember passing a truck one time when he swerved into my lane to avoid his potholes. Meanwhile, I'm trying to avoid the potholes in my lane, and keep an eye on any upcoming traffic. It makes for a little excitement. What with the smoke, the huge craters in the road, the traffic, the heat, the crazy drivers, it's not too hard to imagine that I'm riding through a war zone, just like in a movie. I've come across bridges that were out, with young boys offering to help me and my bike across a makeshift rope bridge. Maybe I'm a bit of a chicken, but I declined on their offer.


There is a part in the movie "The Longest Yard" with Burt Reynolds where he asks another inmate in the prison if smacking the warden and getting another ten years added to his sentence was worth it, and the craggy old man reflects on the question, and then with a grin says "Yeah, it was worth it"... It reminds me of a time when I was on the coast road in Mexico, in the state of Michoacan, where it occurred to me that it had been a pretty big effort to get to that particular spot. The road in this area was completely free of potholes, the pavement was in great condition, and there was very little other traffic. The road had so many curves in it and it seemed to be forever winding it's way up into the mountains only to drop back down again for another awesome view of the coast. This went on for probably 150 kilometers, and it was incredible riding. The jungle growth reached right to the edge of the road, and there were red, pink, white, and orange flower blossoms everywhere. It was like paradise. The smell of the flowers was intoxicating. I crossed so many little rivers which were coming down from the lush, green mountains and I could feel the motorcycle just wanting to rip it up. It was made for this. Faster and faster I rode as I realized this road wouldn't last forever. Before I knew it, I was scraping my foot-pegs. It felt so good to lean right into the corners and hold the tightest line I possibly could, letting the engine breathe and put all of its muscle onto that rear tire. I must admit I scared myself a few times when I ran out of road. That's when you drift out of your own lane because you tried too tight of a line on the corner. At those times, you just pray no one else is coming around the corner the other way. Yeah, it was worth it.

Some random things I took note of in my diary, in no particular order... I thought it was cute the way a group of grade-school students put up a rope with red flags across the main highway to stop drivers to ask them for a campaign contribution. And the legless beggar who parked himself right in the middle of the road, on a "tope" or speed bump, to ask for donations. Dangerous, but effective. I hit some kind of bird at 100 KM an hour which kind of smarted. There were lots of wind farms around La Ventusa in Mexico. I've mistaken the odd piece of Mayan pottery for a cuspidor, much to my chagrin and embarassment.

I've not actually verified this little bit of theory, but I'm pretty sure "dealer prep" for a Mexican car includes disconnecting the muffler and the signal lights. Rural version probably includes removing a fender or two. I'm sure Nicaraguans ask for a beefed-up horn as well. Everyone seems to have time to help a fellow traveller though. They are always helping each other.

If the world runs out of oil, I'm moving down to Mexico where people know how to make the best of it and are very creative. Now I've shared the road all manner of animals, including dogs, pigs, goats, chickens, iguanas, cows, and horses. But I remember being surprised when I came around the corner on the highway and thought I had to pass a very noisy go-cart. Well, much to my surprise, it was a guy on this contraption that was going really fast and had a load of wood on it. The wheels were just bearings from a big truck, and the whole thing was made out of wood. Here's a picture of it...

your very basic go-cart

licence optional

he wanted to trade me for my motorcycle - straight up

Sayings from around the Bigfoot hostel in Leon, Nicaragua

I believe in growing things and in things that have grown and died magnificently.

Listen Dream

Be the change you want to see in the world.

May all the happiness in the world find you.

We must be free.

I believe in people and the simple aspects of human life.

You are who you believe you are.

Be consciousness.

Impossible doesn't exist.

People loved my joke about the difference between heaven and hell...
Heaven: the police are British, the cooks French, the lovers Italian, and the place is run by the Germans.
Hell: the police are Italian, the cooks British, the lovers German, and the place is run by the French.
Thanks, Bob.


I'm learning to not let stuff get to me... Like the time I was in a movie theatre, all set to watch "Taking Woodstock" when the usher comes in and tells me it is being cancelled because I am the only customer. It's hard not to take it personally when you are the only person, right?

El Salvador surfers

El Salvador surfers

El Salvador surfers

getting the chain replaced

washing Pepe the Mule

I met a very interesting man from Vancouver, BC who is riding his bicycle around the world to raise awareness about the stigma of mental illness. We had a great evening of swapping stories. You can check out his website if you like at www.ridedonthide.com

Michael from Vancouver cycling the world