The Earth Lodge - Near Antigua, Guatemala

15th - 16th September

Morning at the Earth Lodge revealed what an awesome place the hostel was. Nestled into the mountain side with an unobstructed view down into a huge valley in which lay a small city on the outskirts of Antigua. Three huge volcanoes rose up on either side with clouds draped over their peaks, one of them was not sleeping and occasionally belched dark clouds of volcanic ash into the sky. 

The site was well spaced out over a large piece of land with one dorm, a couple of covered pitches for camping and several private cabanas tucked away in the jungley fringes. In the centre was a large lodge that served as a communal area with a well stocked bar, kitchen and fireplace. 

There was a serene vibe to the place and the owners, a Canadian guy and his American wife, had managed to create a really welcoming, homely atmosphere which is hard to do in a back packers joint. One of the best things was that aswell as tourists the Earth Lodge attracted a a local crowd, half of the people staying were from Guatemala and it was cool to be able to meet local people and chat about their lives, work and travels etc... 

I have to say I didn't do a huge amount during my day and a half at the lodge. I joined the yoga classes in the morning, a young Canadian traveller led the classes for a fee of Q35, mats were laid out on a covered concrete platform on the edge of the mountainside looking out over the valley, it was the most spectacular and relaxing place I have ever done my morning stretches and what a great way to wake up! 

The rest of the day was spent catching up with people on the interweb, reading, drinking coffee and enjoying the view as the clouds drifted in and out of the valley like slow motion waves washing up onto a steep beach.

Most of the staff were either locals or travelling volunteers and in the evening a vegetarian set meal was prepared by the resident English chef. Everyone sat down at 7pm on the long tables and ate together, the food was delicious and it was great to meet such a varied bunch of people. A small fire was smouldering away at the end of the room and with some rearranging and a good 15mins of blowing I managed to generate enough heat for a hot base to keep the wet logs blazing. Placing my wet boots on the fireside I carefully kept them turning like marshmellows until they had finally dried out. It was soo nice to sit by a warm fire, whilst it wasn't really cold, there was a definite chill to the air and it made me think of home... I am looking forward to getting back and sitting by the fire!

On the second night I became aware that the beds were supplied with blankets and pillows and that some cheaky Aussies had stolen the bedding from my bunk the previous day thinking it was empty. I had slept just under a sheet with my tank bag for a pillow and woke up shivering in the night. This time I had it sussed and curled up under a couple of cosy blankets and a plump ass pillow. I was ready for the next leg...

El Salvador to Guatemala - Another Long Wet Day

14th September

When leaving El Salvador I had decided to skip Guatemala city and take the Southern border crossing which meant taking the coast road through El Sal then winding my way up to Antigua by passing the chaotic roads and potential hazards of the Guatemalan capital. The journey to the border took a little over 3hrs made worse by me missing my turning in the mountains which must have added another thirty minutes to the ride. I was also held up by numerous precessions, it was independence day which meant all the locals were dressed up and marching through the streets, banging drums, blowing cornets and spinning sticks. Very cool to see but slightly awkward trying to politely ride through large crowds of people, the bikes engine thumping away as I went by.

About a half hour from the border the heavens opened and once again my boots filled with water and I got well and truly soaked, so did the poor marching kids! I got to the border in a soggy mess and quickly checked out of El Sal. Entering Guatemala started out really easily, the customs office was dead quiet and I was seen to straight away but they have a funny system where by you need to get your papers for temporary import of the vehicle and go to a secure cashier in an adjacent building, pay the fee of roughly $30 then go back to customs with a receipt. Unfortunately just as I went to pay the clock hit 1pm and the bank closed for an hours lunch. I knew I still had about four hours riding to go in Guatemala and with it still raining I was getting anxious about making it before dark... Here we go again! 

I eventually left the border at 2:30pm and set off in the light rain. The roads were good and there was very little traffic. I was amazed how quickly the scenery changed from the dusty coastal roads of El Sal to a more verdent jungle covered landscape scattered with large granite boulders painted dark red with the word Lider painted everywhere. Not far from the border I came up behind a police truck which was cruising quite slowly down the road. Unsure of the speed limits or police etiquette I slowed and followed from a few car lengths back. For no reason the truck started slowing down and I figured I should overtake but as soon as I started to pull out the Po-po started to speed up, I dropped back, they slowed down, I went to overtake and they sped up... I have no idea what was going on but I thought they were about to pull some funny business. After a ten minutes of this strange game they sped off then turned sharply off the road and disappeared up a dirt track... Weird!

I started to notice various groups of people stood by the side of the road holding flaming torches not dissimilar to the Olympic torch only slightly cheaper looking. The further I went the more I noticed until I came across a car coming towards me at jogging pace followed by a stream of ten or so guys in shorts and head bands blowing whistles and waving the Guatemalan flag with one of the group carrying an Olympic torch. I guess Guatemala gained independence on the same day! This form of celebration continued as I rode along and grew from just small groups to groups of over fifty people running along the main road surrounded by coaches and cars full of people both in front and behind the runners crawling along all displaying the national flag. In the towns and villages this scene turned into pandemonium with spectators lining the streets with arsenals of water ballons and buckets of water which were launched at runners and vehicles alike. Huge ques of traffic backed up behind the slow moving processions and it took ages to work my way through the insanity. It was hilarious.

None of this helped my progress and it wasn't until 5:30pm that I finally reached Antigua. I had another twenty minutes to ride out the other side of the former capital, up into the mountains to a place called the Earth Lodge where I hoped to spend the night. Antigua was the craziest of all, people everywhere, traffic inching along over the sketchy cobbled streets of the beautiful old colonial city. It took about 45mins to go ten miles to the edge of town. Once there I followed my GPS up a bizzare set of steep windy roads into a sort of park then through a gravel car park in the woods and back out onto a narrow zig-zagging concrete road up and up until finally I had to stop and take a photo of the valley below, the view was incredible. The city below surrounded by two large volcanoes and ensconsed in cloud. I wasn't there yet and I blindly followed my phone up to a tiny village where the road turned to mud and along to a dead end where a super friendly family of Guatemalans came running out of their tiny tin hut and said 'hello'!

It was 6:30pm and darkness was setting in, I had tried to make an email reservation but hadn't heard back so leaving my bike with the family I slid my way down the steep dirt path to enquire about a bed. Fortunately there was a bed spare in the dorm which I gladly accepted and ran back up the hill to get my rucksack. The rain had started again and this super cute little girl came running out with an umbrella and a poncho and handed it to me so I could unload my gear in the dry. Such smiley, generous people, made the bizzare surrounding feel so welcoming. 

Glad that the day was finally over I sat and had a communal dinner with the folks at the Earth Lodge and jumped into bed after another gruelling ten hour day.

Volcanoes, Hot Springs and Go Karts - Juayúa, El Salvador

12th - 13th Sept

It was time for a change of scene, I had been living the beach life for weeks and weeks and needed to get into the mountains for some fresh air, lush scenery and to let the growing list of cuts and sea ulcers dry out and heal. 

I had been recommended by Aussie Pablo a scenic ride about an hour West of San Salvador called the Ruta De Las Flores (route of the flowers). I said my goodbyes to Veronika and the kids at El Balsamo and rode West along the beautiful, windy coast road to Sonsonate where I took the road North and up into the mountains to a town called Jauyúa, pronounced 'Way-ooh-ah'! I had picked out a hostel called the Hotel Anáhuac and after stumbling around the town aimlessly I eventually found a local chica who pointed me in the right direction. 

There is a great vibe about Jauyúa, as is often the way with mountain towns the people are friendly, more welcoming and laid back, must be something to do with the cooler climate. Hotel Anahuac was empty apart from one very friendly staff member who took me in and set me up with a bed in a dorm to my self. The hostel was really nicely decorated with organically shaped wooden furniture, a peaceful garden with hammocks and artifacts from the local coffee industry. 

A french guy whose name I cannot remember arrived in the early evening and we went out and grabbed a pizza in a local restaurant, we spoke almost entirely in Spanish for the evening until my brain started to fade and communication was no longer possible. Very graciously (for a Frenchman) we continued on in English! Back at the hotel the Frenchie pulled out a bottle of Casa Del Diavolo, clearly classicly raised in accordance with French law this dude travelled with good red wine the likes of which I had not tasted since my dad had left me in Costa Rica and I rolled us a joint from the Californian stash of weed. I had avoided smoking the heavy stuff until now and thought I'd give it a try... within twenty minutes the mix of beer, wine and a knockout refer had sent my head spinning, I couldn't open my eyes let alone talk and rather embarrassingly excused myself and retreated to the safety of my bed. I have not spun that hard for years... 

In the morning I got chatting to the guy on the desk (who was an actual legend) and enquired about getting up to the crater of Volcan Santa Ana, which at 2,365m is the tallest peak in the area and has an amazing looking crater. I was advised against this and that a day trip around to some hot springs and two nearby villages to see their food markets would be more manageable in a day... 'Ha' I said, I would rather do the Volcano which he thought was possible to ride up and gave me some rough directions... Again with the idiocy, when will I learn?!

My GPS proclaimed to have found a destination in the general area of the volcano with the correct name which was promising and the route started well, nice windy montain roads weaved through lush floral villages of palm thatched huts. After about half an hour I was instructed to take a left turn seemingly into a bush, I drove past ignoring the direction as I was expecting to see an official sign and car park / visitor centre. After a few miles or so I had seen no such sign and the GPS was still telling me to turn around. In the absence of any other options I did as I was told and headed back to the bush. A bus up ahead was making the 270° turn back on itself and into the bush / lane, somewhat encouraged by this I followed and bounced my way down the rocky, muddy track. 

This muddy track turned into another classic bit of misadventure... the villages got progressively smaller, the dogs wilder and the look on the local peoples faces suggeated I was definitely not a common site in these parts, they weren't particularly welcoming either. My GPS confidently declared a route onward and with blind faith I kept riding content that the tracks were always climbing and therefore I was likely heading the right way. After about twenty minutes the track became more of an over grown path and I was starting to get a little concerned. I spotted a local guy, stood by a field with a machete in his hand and asked for directions, he laughed and muttered something whilst gesticulating wildly. I didn't understand a word he said and asked again if this was the way to volcano, I caught something about a road and turning left, not even half confident I carried on only to be stopped by a barking mad crazy lady with half a mouthful of teeth a few meters down the road. She was waving her arms, pointing at her fence and shouting, her words were aimed at me as if I understood and would resolve her problem, god knows what she was saying and after a minute of polite nodding and smiling I figured it best to just ride on. 

After another 5mins I found the mystery road, well, slightly wider rocky track, and turned left. Intially promising I buzzed along through a couple of tiny villages until the road turned into a tiny, quad bike wide, overgrown mud track that started to climb really steeply. Clouds were gathering overhead and I pondered my situation. The mud track was steep and barely wide enough to turn round on, if it rained getting down would be a mission and the bike although designed for all terrain was shod with road tires which weren't much use in the brown stuff. On the other hand, I had ridden for an hour and a half and it would suck not to see the volcano... On I went riding the bike like a bucking bronco across deep ruts and over steep ridges, all the time climbing the steep hill, spinning up the back wheel as I struggled for grip whilst trying not to catch the board rack on the rocks or bushes. I was sweating heavily and getting more and more anxious about getting back down the track, I hadn't seen any people for about fifteen minutes and was wondering how much fun it would be to get stuck up on the side of this volcano on my own. The  GPS was still egging me on but surely there would be signs and a more accessible track if this was a proper tourist attraction? After a while I came to a fork in the track and looked down at my GPS to find it had stopped offering a route, the tracks got steeper and narrowed and I decided to stop and think. As I stood there heart pounding and hands shaking I felt spots of rain landing on my head, the sky was dark and I knew I had to turn around. Massively dissapointed and yet scared shitless that I was gonna crash on the way down and break a leg in the middle of nowhere I heaved the bike around and started riding down in first gear the bike popping and spluttering as I went. 

Thankfully the rain held off and I was amazed at how well the bike dealt with the path back down, it would have been soo easy to scrub the front out in a ditch or patch of mud but instead we nailed it and happily made it back down to the villages and finally back out onto the main road. I still have no idea wether or not I was on the right track or why the hell there are no frigging signs for such an impressive looking crater, anywhere else in the world there would be a tourist gravy train and gift shop but not here!

Somewhat defeated but happy to be in one piece I rode back toward Juayúa and followed the road on along the Ruta De Las Flores along to Ataco where I stopped and had some lunch next to the central plaza. The views over the distant volcanoes and mountains are stunning, Ataco itself was also a very pretty, cobbled town with an eclectic food market and selection of restaurants and artisanal shops and stalls. 

Taking the advice of mi amigo at the hotel, whose name I think was Salee, I cruised along to the hot springs at Santa Teresa. Along the way I watched several groups of locals loading these ramshackle, gravity powered, wooden karts with huge stacks of logs and riding them down the steep mountain roads with the rest of the traffic. Check out the photo, it looks like great fun!

The hot springs were rather dissapointing, the complex itself was rather grandiose for El Salvador, lots of random concrete pools linked together with milky, greenish water flowing from pool to pool. I was hoping for a more natural mud pool type affair but this was like going to a municipal swimming pool, complete with a massive bar and restaurant set into the mountain side and what sucked the most was the water  temp, it felt like getting into a bath that had been sat for an hour, it was warm at best. On the plus side the ride into the place was kool, steam rose from random swampy lakes and clumps of grass in the lush hillsides, It felt like riding through a landscape from Jurassic Park only a little safer!

Back at the hostel I got chatting to Salee, he had just finished his shift and suggested a game of backgammon and a coffee at a bar in town. We randomly bumped into a Polish chick who had arrived at the hotel while I was out so the three of us went and drank beer and coffee and chatted for five or six hours in a really wicked bar called El Cadejo. The backgammon was a close affair but ultimately I got schooled. 

My time was up in El Salvador, time to move on to the wilds of Guatemala. In the morning I packed and talked coffee with a Danish conissuer who was in Jauyúa for business sourcing beans from the local farms then headed off down some of the most amazing windy flower covered roads back to the coast. It wasn't long before my bum was numb and the rain kicked in...

Side Note - The Milkman!

Forgot to mention the photo with the heavy set fella with the shotgun. This dude was essential security for the milkman. Can you imagine a place where the threat of armed raids on innocent milk deliveries is a reality, so much so that a hench guy is employed to stand gaurd ready to blow little Johnies head off should he fancy a swiping a free pint of milk?!

It wasn't just milk either, all grocery deliveries, all the massive coca cola lorries etc, etc... all had armed guards carrying either shotguns or full on automatic machine guns. Imagine being so desperate that you would take such a risk as holding up a fruit delivery to get some food or cash for your family. For all the ills in our society we are very lucky to live in such a prosperous and peaceful country.

Kool photo though, I love the hardman pose he put on!

El Balsamo Take Two - El Sunzal

5th - 11th September

I returned to El Balsamo and took up my old bed in the dorm at the bottom of the garden. The next six days all kind of blurred into one salty, relaxed, Papusa fuelled mess. 

I had leisurely breakfasts and read the Malcom X autobiography which was an amazing read, such an incredible life and insight into an incomprehensible world. I surfed El Sunzal most mornings, skyped with Thea and then after lunch I would ride 15mins North to a break called K59 for some much less crowded and punchy right handers. 

K59 is an awesome wave and my favourite in the area. On my first exploratory mission I rode until I saw the Km59 marker, stopped and asked a local guy for directions, he pointed to a tiny rocky lane which disappeared into a load of bushes... intrigued I took the turning and rode down a steep and sketchy track for about 50m until I came to a river! Jumping off the bike I took my shoes off and waded in. The river bed was covered in uneven boulders about the size of my head, the water was over a foot deep in the middle and moving rapidly, It didn't look like a route often driven and I spent a good five minutes considering my options. On the basis that this was a well known surf break, there were a couple of hotels on the beach and that there was no way I was going to spend my last days surfing with seventy people at Sunzal I figured it must be passable and that I should man up and get on with it... I am an idiot!

I didn't want to ride through as the boulders were too uneven, so, barefoot I walked the bike into the river. With the front wheel just touching the water I immediately regretted the decision and wanted to turn back only I couldn't, the slope was too steep and the rocks too big to get the bike around, there was only one way out. With the bike running, I slowly rolled it forward on the brakes as I tried to get a decent footing on the slippery rocks, the current was strong and trying to tip the bike over away from me and onto my board which I had stupidly left in the racks. Halfway across the river water was gushing up around the motor and the rear wheel became stuck on a boulder, I looked up stream to see two local ladies washing their clothes and watching the stupid gringo with a nonplussed expression, they certainly weren't about to help. I revved the bike and the wheel span and squirmed but remained stuck... with a bit of wiggling and a big hand full of throttle the back end skipped and suddenly hopped forward dragging me with it and as I scrambled to get my footing I felt a sharp pain in my foot, lost my balance and unable to hold onto the bike I let go and watched helplessly as it fell with a crunch onto a rock. Amazingly the entire weight of the bike was supported by the rear board rack which balanced on a rock that was raised up out of the water... the engine was saved from being flooded and my board was unscathed, I could not have been more lucky. 

With a lot of cursing and painful skitting around on the rocks I managed to heave the bike upright and with a determined fury I gunned the bike out of the river and up the rocky bank on the other side. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest I thought it was going to explode, I could very easily have ended the trip with this little misadventure... 

On the otherside of the river I pulled up out front of a beautiful little hostel and with shakey hands lit up a cigarette, my foot was bleeding and I needed to wash the dirt out and check the damage. A guy from the hostel came and said hello, opened the gates and told me to park my bike inside for safety while I surf and allowed me to use the shower. I had put a deep gauge into the ball of my left foot, a thick flap of skin only about the size of a finger nail but about half a centimetre thick flapped back on itself as the blood ouzed out. There was no way I could leave it like it was without catching it on every little grain of sand, the skin was too thick to cut off and would have left a deep divet that would fill with sand and dirt and get infected. I remember hearing once that superglue was originally intended for use sticking soldiers back together again on the battlefields... far from the battlefield but with a bottle of glue in my surf repair kit, I decided to stick the flap back down and see how it went. Turns out it's a beaut, sure it stung and walking on it was uncomfortable but it was a sealed wound, no dirt could get in and I could still surf, within two weeks it had almost fully healed!

My stay at El Balsamo was the first time on the trip I had really felt alone. Having had a great week with the crew at Tortuga Verde my experience at El Balsamo was the polar opposite, almost complete solitude for a week, the peace was nice and it was great to be able to have some proper reading time but I felt a funny kind of emptiness that surfing alone couldn't fill. Fortunately I found the solution... at around three or four in the afternoon two rotund women with huge plastic tubs on their heads would come walking down the track honking comedy horna and selling the most amazing pan dulces (sweet breads). Their chocolate doughnuts are the best I have ever eaten!

During my time at Tortuga Verde Rory had introduced me to a neat looking puncture repair kit and suggested a bike shop in San Salvador where I might find one. It seemed silly not to take the opportunity since the city was so close, I had tried but failed on the way back from Gaby's so I assigned one of my days at Balsamo to a mission into the city. With a bit of Google research I found four possible bike shops with the same name and took a screen grab of the map... my GPS located one of the shops so off I went. Traffic was busy but the roads were dry and I got to the first shop within an hour. Unfortunately they didn't have the same kit, and so the fun began... three different people in the shop all gave directions to another place at the same time in rapid Spanish and confused the hell out of me... GPS was no use now so I rode around eyes peeled looking for markers from the conversation... I stopped at a tyre shop and the same thing happened... after six different shops, heaps of random directions and having covered a large portion of down town San Salvador I was sweating profusely and was getting a little stressed. I pulled up outside another shop, pulling off the main road at the last minute and onto a steep concrete ramp just out the way of the two lanes of traffic. I lent the bike over to park it and the weight got the better of me, I can't have kicked the stand over enough and it just kept leaning until I realised the angle was too great and I pushed to lift the bike but couldn't and down she went, twice in three days! 

Eventually I found the kit in a large DIY type superstore right in the very center of town. I must have driven around for about three hours before finally finding it. It's amazing how challenging getting hold of stuff can be when away from home... I am satisfied as hell that I eventually got it sorted, it was a proper testing mission, who knows if it will even prove worthwhile?!

On my penultimate day a pair of Aussies sheila's, Em and Nicole shouted through the fence and asked if I knew where their hostel was, I pointed them in the direction of the only other hostel I knew of and went off to get another fill of Papusas. 20mins later Em and Nicole walk into the papuseria and sit down opposite me. I should explain the only joint in El Sunzal for an evening meal was a small papuseria which was just an open sided shack by the side of the road with ten or so tables and a large hotplate set on top of a big wood fire pit. Two young El Salvadorean ladies worked there nuts off all night in the heat and smoke. See photos below. So anyway Em and Nic sat and we did proper introductions, Em was living in Darwin working as a marine biologist and was on holiday for two weeks visiting Nic who had been travelling for months in South America and Mexico. They were both really easy going and good entertainment and we swapped stories and hostel recommendations. Nic raved about Mexico and spent a good hour drawing me a map of the surfspots in Oaxaca, with four pages of detailed notes and tips! Legend.

On my last day I hit K59 late in the afternoon and met an Aussie bloke in the water called Stewart... intrigued by my trip and having just come from Mexico we rapidly exchanged notes on surf spots and places to stay. Stewart was a legend and I would have chatted for longer but had to get up the sketchy boulder track and back to the main road before it got dark.

Ahhh yes the dirt track, I forgot... in case you were wondering, I didn't go back out through the river when leaving K59... it turns out there was another entrance to the break that was without river, it was still a steep, rocky and deeply rutted track but it was at least possible to stay dry. There are absolutely no signs to show the track is there and without prior knowledge it is almost impossible to spot from the main road. Keeps it quiet I guess!

Anywho El Balsamo was a great spot to stay and for $6 a night you won't find anywhere better, the peace was bliss but it was time to get back on the road, let my wounds heal for a bit and check out something new...

San Salvador - A Taste of the City

Friday 5th September

My journey into San Salvador was wet, very wet! Rivers spilt out across the road and the traffic crawled along throwing up spray making it impossible to ride with my visor down. The forty minute journey took over an hour, made worse by a tree that had been uprooted in the winds and lay across one of the lanes. I was 15mins late getting into the centre of the city and sort of finding the place where I had arranged to meet Gaby.

Gaby was in her early twenites, a passionate, intelligent, socially minded musician, born and raised in the notoriously dangerous capital city. It was purely by chance that I had the opportunity to meet her. 

Two months before leaving the UK I had been to Specsavers to get myself some contact lenses for my trip, on my first appointment I was put in the care of a pretty young lady of latin descent. Adriana, checked my eyes and entered my details onto the system, I asked where she was from and she replied El Salvador, funny coincidence I said, I'm going there in a few months. Just then a geeky English guy comes to the door and takes me into another room for more tests. A month went by and I was in and out of Speckies four or five times trying to get the right type of eye goggles, it wasn't until the last visit when I asked one of the desk staff if Adriana was working, she was and we had a quick five minute chat where she very kindly offered to give me a guide book, her sister and friends contact details and set me up with a guy she knew who did Volcano tours. Over the next month we met a couple of times and I took her for an orange juice and she inundated me with info and places to go whilst telling me I was crazy. I love it when you meet super friendly strangers, thanks Adri!

So anyway when I got to El Salvador I sent Adri a message on whattsapp and she said to give her friend Gaby a call. I did just that and Gaby invited me up to stay her house and take me out to see some live music. 

So when I was running late I stopped and called Gaby to let her know, then when I thought I had arrived I called again to find I was in the wrong place and couldn't find the museum. The next hour we spent looking for each other in completely different parts of the city until we finally settled on me staying put at Wendy's while she came to get me. 15mins passed, it was still raining and now the sun had gone down and I was getting anxious. Everyone says don't ride at night, don't go into the city alone and that San Salvador with it's infamous gangs is one of the most dangerous cities in the world. Bonzer! 

I ring Gaby again and we ask the same question, "where are you? I'm at Wendy's"... We were at different stores! Another 20mins later Gaby is dropped off in the car park and a massive sense of relief washed over me. The fun wasn't quite over... we had to wait for her boyfriend to come collect her and then I had to ride the bike another 20mins across the city in the dark and rain back to her house... having arranged to meet at 5pm we didn't get to Gaby's till 8:30pm. She is a saint for being so patient.

Gaby had a band meeting at her house at 9pm, I met all the gang and listened in trying to understand the heated debate about raising funds for their album release. Gaby ordered Papusas and we feasted, and searched for one of the kittens which had crawled up under the skin of the sofa and was stuck! At 10:30pm we jumped in Gaby's friends car and he drove us to Santa Tecla, a small suburb to the West of the main city. In the quiet streets we pulled up in front of a totally non descript bar called Yemao. Walking in everyone said hello as we passed straight through the bar and round a corner into a second arty looking bar/venue room and out to the backyard where there was a classy bar, table service, a very cool jazz band playing and obviously a massive half pipe! 

The place was fairly quiet because of the weather but the atmosphere was friendly and the music, a modern jazz group called La Bruja (I think), were going for it and were damn good. Gaby and her band mate knew the guys from the band who came over and had a good chat at the interval, I wish I spoke better Spanish but instead smiled and nodded.

A group of guys where clearly hitting the Peruvian marching powder pretty hard and were getting quite lively in the corner, one of their crew came and joined us, he happened to have been to college in the states and spoke very good English.  He also turned out to be the son of a very wealthy Salvadorean family and at the end of the night he insisted we went back to his place to scope it out for a venue for the band. Complete with a huge 8ft fountain inside and other very ornate statues the pad was plush and had a balcony the size of a tennis court with an incredible view overlooking the city lights. Much drunken chat went down and as far as I could tell absolutely nothing was agreed but it was amusing. At 3am Gaby's friend drove us back to her's and we crashed. 

Gaby had to get on the road at 6am that morning to go to Guatemala city for a friends birthday. She let me sleep in and I handed the key to the security guard at the gates to the community where she lived. I cannot thank her enough, it was amazingly generous to put me up and to add to her already hectic schedule and to randomly select such a perfect place to take me out. Thanks Gaby and Adri, I would never have seen that side of El Salvador without your generosity. 

El Sunzal - A change of scene

3rd - 5th Sept

Leaving Tortuga Verde I headed North toward San Miguel then West up the Coast aiming for La Libertad, the ride took just under three hours and was dead easy, cruising in full sunshine and happy to be back on the road. A further 15mins from La Libertad I had reached El Tunco, the most touristy surf spot on the El Salvadorean coast. Turning off the main highway a paved road runs down into a small town lined with hostels, bars, restaurants and hotels. I parked the bike out front of a restaurant and jumped off to eyeball the surf and check out some hostels, as soon as my feet hit the ground a local guy came up to me and asked for $3 for parking. I argued the point that I would only be staying for ten minutes but he was having none of it... it sucks when places get popular, everyone piles in to take money from the gringo, in reality it's just the same as home but it was a definite shift in the vibe from the rest of my trip so far.

El Tunco is situated right on the beach front, a solid beach break crashes in front of the restaurants whilst a short walk up the beach is a long, friendly right hand point break called El Sunzal. Glassy three to four foot waves were rolling down the point in the late afternoon sun, it looked beautiful.

I wasn't that keen on the vibe at El Tunco and had been recommended a hostel by Rory just down the road in the tiny village of El Sunzal. The hostel El Balsamo takes it's name from the stretch of coast in the North West of El Salvador and is a very basic concrete block of four rooms, including one dorm situated in the garden of a super nice, chatty and smiley local woman called Veronica and her Dutch Husband. There is a small concrete half pipe and skateboards to rent, a small decked area with a bar & well stocked fridge of beer, two hammocks, a set of gas hobs and cooking utensils and a toilet/shower. I took a dorm bed for $6 and had the place to myself for almost a week!

El Balsamo is tucked away down a tiny, stoney dirt road just off the main coastal highway. A small sign out front just about gives it away with out which you would think it was just someone's garden. The track continues for another 500m down around the perimeter wall of a hotel and pops you out right on the boulder point. It was late and I decided not to surf, instead I just sat on the point and watched the waves as the sun set behind the next headland. I was treated to another amazing colour fest!

Two peaks form over the reef depending on the angle of the swell. The good guys take off further up the point where the wave stands up first and makes a quick right hand wall which joins up with the second peak before rolling on gently down the reef. Depending on which direction the wave was coming from it was possible to link the two peaks by racing down the line and trying to get there before it stood up and broke ahead, or on top of you. Because of this the take off is quite shifty which serves to spread the waves around the crowd and cause the entire lineup to get smashed by the odd freak wave!

On my first two days the swell was building to a solid 8ft @ 16s and the point was picking up plenty of swell, I was up early making porridge and coffee on the stove and in the water by 7am. A light offshore wind groomed the waves and the occassional double over head faces were breaking up the point. Clambering over the boulders and down onto the beach I jumped in from the sand and paddled about 300m out to sea to where the second peak was forming and sat for 15mins watching the way the waves were breaking. After a while a wide set swung round the point and a wave popped up just where I was, I turned, paddled and dropped down the face for a long straight roll in, leant over on to my toes and carved back up the happily overhead face and round for a quick top turn and then faded and followed with another three or four cut backs before finishing a few meters short of the beach, it was too easy!

During the next days I got progressively deeper but got frustrated by the amount of people and really struggled to get the waves I wanted. A crew of 20+ with a quality local presence dominated the main peak and had it wired, I got maybe three or five really good waves in a 2hr session and just found myself getting angry that I couldn't get more (rudy greedy!). Sitting alert in pooey water for thirty minutes or more, getting constantly excited and paddling for a wave to find that five guys have just paddled into a better position and taken the wave before you is really annoying, especially when it's such a perfect wave. Anyways...

In the middle of the day I would read, blog and speak to my Bennun on Skype before going back out for an evening session. I cooked my self some spaghetti in the day and at night walk out onto the main road and into the village where a pair of young Salvadorean women seemingly endlessly churned out traditional Papusas (doughy, potatoey, flattened balls stuffed with cheese and refried beans) over a wood fired hot plate. A que of locals waited as the women slapped the dough balls around and sweated in the heat from the fire. I ordered five for $1.75 and took my bag of treats and the complementary pickled cabbage and hot sauce back to El Balsamo. The nearest supermarket was a 15minute ride and there was now way I could compete with the girls on price so for about 6 nights on the trot I ate five pupusas for dinner... stodge!

As Saturday came around I had arranged to meet a friend of a friend in the capital, San Salvador, check out a museum and go out for a drink. On route was the town of La Libertad the home of the most famous surf break in El Salvador, Punta Roca. I was due to meet Gaby at 5pm so after a chilled morning I rode to La Libertad, found a beach front restaurant with an incredibly friendly owner and parked up to take some lunch. The guy told me to ride my bike into the restaurant as it was not safe to leave it outside and I walked ten minutes up the promenade to the main break, waves were breaking pretty much the whole way down as I walked... with the right swell this wave can break for over a Kilometre!

Notoriously unsafe the promenade and car park at the break is famed for tourists getting held up at gun/knife point... I saw no such drama buy was more on edge than normal. The wave itself was incredible, the longest continuos wave I have ever seen and it was so glassy... Unfortunately thirty guys were on the peak and were absolutely killing it, taking off in front of a dry rock, pulling straight into a 5s barrel then busting out huge top turns and charging down the line for 300-400m, it was awesome to watch but impossible to compete with. I snagged two smaller waves that the pack missed and still had to hustle four other guys to get on them... both were super fun, fast, really fast waves that ran for about 200m, between pumps I got three or four hits on the lip and surfed them pretty well. Still I had major wave envy and left feeling a little unsatisfied.

Getting in and out of the water was comical. I watched a load of people before me to see how it was done... there was no graceful way! Wait for a set to pass, scamper over the burning hot dry boulders until your in the water, then feel your way across the next boulders getting progressively deeper until a wave comes , then spread feet over two different slimey but barnicle covered boulders and brace yourself while you get smashed by a 2ft wall of white water, knocked over onto your bum and dragged backward into the boulders behind and repeat until there's a big enough gap to jump on your board and paddle hard to avoid the next barrelling wave landing on your head! Getting out is the reverse but harder as the water gets shallower and you have nothing to balance on... picture bambi on ice but with a surf board under one leg getting hit in the bum by waves and bouncing off slimey barnacled rocks cutting legs and feet until beached in an embarrassed yet relieved mess! Both my legs, both feet and one hand had streaks of blood running down them, I looked a state!

Anyway Punta Roca Is one of the most impressive looking waves I have seen, I would love to go back and spend a couple of weeks figuring out... maybe another time.

I got cleaned up, washed off the blood and jumped on the bike just as a big storm started to drop the rain... The ride to San Salvador was going to be fun!