Smile & wave II
I never buy roadmaps. If you can find them they are expensive. So I ask for directions. 
That’s better. You get in contact with the locals and you might run into a surprise. Like staying twelve days in a ranchero with a 22-year old Mexican girl who invited you to her house, because you looked lost. No invitations now. I know my way, like Jose Luis. Got a Honduran roadmap, a present from an Argentinean guy. Not very detailed, this map. It's just sufficient. So no complains. It’s difficult to get lost in this country anyway; there’s only a few ways to go. On the map I found a spot in the Pacific Ocean just between El Salvador and Nicaragua, called Isla del Tigre (Tiger Island). This part of the Pacific looked promising, a lot of green spots and RVS-signs (wildlife reserve). I got visions of wild tigers, palm trees and half naked women. Wishful thinking indeed, Guzman.
21 Mar '06 - 01:56 | Wow, 39 comments already
Smile & wave
A Japanese motorcycle brand, manufacturer of extremely mean & fast two-wheel lethal rockets, offered me a couple of times in Holland to do this frantic ride on one of their machines. 
All expenses paid. They would even fly the bike over to Anchorage. ‘Balls’, I said. ‘Have to do this with my lady. She is part of the adventure. And she will not fail on me. If she’ll stop singing, it’s because I put a bullet through her head.’ Tough talk, since I don’t carry a gun. Just a screwdriver and a rubber hammer. And that we use to fix things, Guzman. I also carry an extra set of sparkplugs (bougies). You see Guzzi-parts are extremely rare in this part of the world were coughing and cripple horses dominate the traffic-scene. So, you’ll better be prepared. And why bringing all this complicated spare parts? I’m not a mechanic. I can fill the gas tank and that’s about it. So, just before I swing my leg over the saddle, I’ll say my prayer, giddy up the white bronco and hope for the best. She doesn't turn her back on me, Guzman. Never.
19 Mar '06 - 19:34 | Wow, eleven comments already
Hoera, Kees is jarig (birthday Kees)
The fine young man on the picture, Guzman, is my dear friend Kees. He is more than a friend actually even more than a brother. He is my Big Buddy, mi Cariño Carnal. We must know each other for at least 35 years now. It’s his birthday today (march 17th). So, we show our respect today to 
The Man who has reached the age of 42. Kees and I had our very first mayor-motorized trip together. We were 16 years old and drove our torpedo-like Tomos 4TL’s - with high handlebars and lowered saddles - all the way to fucking Germany. It was a vicious travel, full of dangers and adventures. Especially the south of Holland in those days wasn’t recommendable. But we did it. We stood firm. Never surrender, keep on trucking!
17 Mar '06 - 22:10 | Wow, fifteen comments already
Begging & bribing my way around
The Guzzi came to a sliding halt at El Florido, the mountainous frontier of Honduras. You see, there was no border gate so I kept on going. Then/than? I saw this tightened rope out of a sudden. I hit the drum-brakes and saved my scalp, I guess. The bike 
ran fine, earlier this morning. Smooth and easy, like always. I left my hotel in Chiquimula just after daybreak and the 70 kilometers ride to the border woke me up. I liked the view. Green, steep mountains. A slow streaming river with palm trees on the banks and all. Friendly waving campesinos beside the road waiting to be picked up by any kind of vehicle. This morning carried all the signs of a safe and quick passage into Honduras. I had only one little problem to deal with, the permission to drive the bike. The Guzzi, as I noticed the night before, overstayed his time in Guatemala, which was totally my fault, as you understand. Only ten days late, I minor offence I should say. You see Guzman I’m a total idiot when it comes to the stamp-business. I don’t even look at my visa when they give it to me, because time is not important. In Mexico I showed up two months late at the border near Ciudad Quathémoc and they didn’t round up the firing squad. So, why bother when there’s no such thing as a ticking clock.
04 Mar '06 - 02:32 | Wow, 25 comments already
