Hitchhiking the World

Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Chap 3 (Central America)

---November 2nd 2015---

As I was crossing the bridge to enter my third country, a border patrol stopped me, and told me to come in. After looking at my passport, he looked at me at asked me where was my immigration paper and my stamp. As mentioned at the very beginning of the Mexican chapter, when I crossed the border, the people told me there wasn’t any border, so for the last 2 weeks, I had being visiting Mexico illegally. I did my best to explain my situation using the few Spanish words I knew, and eventually, the border patrol stamped my passport. That wasn’t without paying the 50$ immigration tax, that I tried to argue up until he showed in the law book, that he was right and that I was wrong.

I then got to the Belize side of the custom, they didn’t quite understand why I was hitchhiking the country but they let me pass, this time filling the paperwork. When I got to the question: How long do plan staying in the country; I answered with 3-4 days, thinking it would actually take me that amount of days to go through the country. The border patrol looked at my optimism telling me: “Are you sure you can cross in only 4 days? It does seem very realist.” but I was confident. And so, at 7:30 on the 2nd of November, I got through.

Fifteen minutes it all it took for me to get a first ride in this new country, and it is the longest I had to wait in Belize. I wanted to get to Dangriga to go snorkeling, and despite being quite south, I got there by 14 o’clock. I went to the agency to go snorkeling only to find the most inefficient business I’ve ever had to deal with. I asked for a price on snorkeling, but they didn’t know. so I asked how to go snorkeling, to be told that I needed to walk around town to ask people to lift me (by boat) to the islands, and that from the island, I would need to go to the different resorts to ask for a price, also telling me that I couldn’t camp for free on the island. I asked if she had an idea of the pricing, but she once more told me no .I asked her, if she any pamphlets: no! Could she contact one of the resorts to get a price: no! In other word, I need to walk to the river to ask random people to boat me to the island (40$ US) to be forced to pay for a night (at least 10$ to camp) and once on the island I could see if the price is indeed reasonable and take a decision; snorkeling might be nice, but that is too much maybes and the chance of regretting going too far was big, so I just left.

Back on the road, this time, destination Guatemala. I got a ride out of town, and another bringing me 20min drive from the border, also buying me a burger. From there, I got to the border, but it was not for today. I notice 2 abandoned houses, but needing to charge my things, I got to a small gas station, asking for electricity, and they greet me like kings. I got to charge my electronic, got 2 papayas, 2 oranges, a bag of cookies, a cake, they gave the internet connection of the neighboring business, and knowing the owner of the business told me I could camp under the roof on the porch. To finish things of, one of the guy, came back to bring me some bread, 2 extra oranges, and a can of tuna. Definitely, people in Belize are really nice people.

As I was told, I threw my tent on the neighbour’s porch, thinking he was going to be informed, but he wasn’t; and intrigued by the fact someone was camping on his shop’s property, he called to cops, not to arrest me, nor to kick me out, simply to have them check who I was. And so the cop showed up, I talked with them, explained who I was, what my trip was all about, and why I was sleeping on the porch. They told me all was good, and that I could stay there for the night, and that was it.

Overall, I may have stayed for only 24h in the country, but I still managed to travel through 429km (which is the quasi-totality of the entire road system of the country), and got into 12 cars and got 3 meals. All that with 15 minutes waits at my longest, so a definite thumb up for Belize.

For the second time in 2 days, the first thing to do in the morning was to tackle a border: Guatemala. I passed through the Belize side to “check out”, which once more had an exit fee of $18.75 (US) and got to the Guatemala side. One stamp later, I got in my 4th country.

I crossed town and started hitchhiking, but without much luck. The only car who would stop were taxi or buses, and after repeating the same phrase I always say when they stop “No tienes dineros”, they would leave (unlike in Mexico). Finally, a man working in a nearby store felt bad for me, and gave me 35 quetzals (Guatemala’s money), and told me 30 was for a taxi to Flores, and 5 for water. I thanked him, but said I wasn’t going to use it for taxi, but he didn’t mind.

Finally, after 1h05 I got my first ride, a taxi which accepted to give me a free ride. Not long after being dropped, I got another ride to the exit of Flores, and after a few minutes, the last ride I had to wait for. I got myself 4 rides in a row within 1min from the previous ride. The second to last ride was the longest, bringing me to Cobán. Despite not being very impressive at first, once I got to the sierra near Cobán, the Guatemalan’s nature showed its true beauty. All along the road, step and pointy mountains, by the hundreds, were sticking out of the flatness of the previous landscape, and without any foothills. Eventually, the road got in the sierra, and we started zigzagging between these jungle covered pointy peaks.

As we arrived in town, I got hit by reality, breaking the magic created by the road, as it started to rain, and I couldn’t find a place to shelter from the rain for the night. I got to the edge of town, and tried to hitch one last ride before the imminent darkness, and got one. The two guys brought me to San Pedro Carchá, where once more, I was in a city without shelter. The “rain” was still just a drizzle, so I followed the instruction (half-understood) and got to the central park, where I asked the police to help me out, and they sent me to a church, where I stayed for the end of the speech. Being the only white person in church, and carrying a big packsack, the priest immediately knew why I was there. So after church, he came to see me and asked me who I was. I explained my situation, in English since the priest spoke it, and he offered me to stay in a classroom behind the church. For the 3rd time, since I left the Northeast Kingdom, I found a way to escape from the rain before it could affect me.

Two nights out of the rain at the church's school

The next morning, the priest of the church, Victor, asked me if I wanted to come back to sleep after having visited Semuc Chamey. I wasn’t sure if I was going to, but realised that the forecast was going to be wet for another day, so I’ve arranged my day to come back to San Pedro Carchá.

Reaching Semuc Champey was a challenge due to its remoteness, but my hitchhiking skills got me there in not time, and with class. I first got a ride out of town by a motorcycle. Ten minutes later, a minibus stopped and after having told them I had no money, they told me to hop in. Just a few miles from the intersection, I got another motorcycle to ride me for a mile. But this is where thing were not looking great, well not the view. The road to reach Semuc Champey was a tiny dirt road zigzagging through the steep wall of the mountains, with surprising inclination. Oh, and let’s not forget the thousands of potholes spread through the entirety of the road. There was no way I was going to meet a car, but having to walk 22km to reach the park, I thought that eventually, I would meet someone and try to get a ride from him. I thought right since only 10 minutes later, a Pepsi delivery truck (not an 18-wheeler) passed by telling me to jump in the back. So, the first 11km of the dirt road took place with both feet hanging out of a Pepsi truck, shacking and bouncing in all direction, and passing through rain, as I was hanging on chains (just in case).

Once in the tiny town of Langùin, I barely had time to cross town that a pickup stopped by my side asking my favorite Spanish phrase: “Dónde vas?” They were also going to the river, so I hoped in. After hearing about my trip, they invited me in the park, where we hiked a very difficult trail to an overlook of the gorgeous travertines creating incredibly turquoise pools, with a few waterfalls connecting each pools. To go back to the trek, it wasn’t difficult for its length or its cardio, but the trail was extremely steep and slippery, the step were very traitorous and uneven, and missing a few, of course. After the view, came the swimming. The travertines were open for public, so I undressed to my underwear and jumped in the first pool. The Sun was warm, the sky was blue, the water was at perfect temperature, and I felt amazing. Hitchhiking, you don’t get much relaxation time, you don’t sleep well, always hungry and thirsty, too hot or too cold, sometime stuck under the rain, constantly waiting for cars, walking through city carrying heavy loads, and always stress as where to sleep at night. But to be taking some time off and swim in this incredible masterpiece of nature, knowing you have a ride back in town and knowing you have a place to sleep just felt like magical.

The magical view from the overlook of Semuc Champey

After the more than appreciated swim, the couple which brought me to the park, and were going to bring back in town stopped at a small food stand near the river, and got to eat, not only a great local meal, but in surprising portion. And since nobody, except me, could finish there plate, I got leftover food for breakfast. What a great day!

After a second night at the church’s school, I packed my bag and left for El Salvador. As I mentioned a few times, I may not eat much on this trip, but that day was definitely an exception, as I finished the leftover from the night before, one of my ride bought me a burger, and another one brought me to a restaurant for lunch and bought me food before leaving on the side of the road, for a total of 4 meals in my day.

Once at the border, I started looking for a place to sleep, but everybody would tell me how dangerous it was to stay outside at night, finishing by saying to go at the border and ask for help. When I got to the border, the official told me to sleep on the concrete porch, right next to the security’s door, and that they would keep an eye on me. Still being early, I read for an hour, took my shirt off to sow it (a normal thing to do at the Guatemala-El Salvador border!!) and went to bed. I didn’t take anything out of my bag, so I sleep with my clothes on, wrapped around my bag. At first, I couldn’t help but laugh at the craziness of the event, but very rapidly, I realized how long my night would be. Being on the porch of the border, I was right next to very heavy traffic (lots of loud 18-wheelers, buses, motorcycles, etc.) and having a roof over this traffic, everything was amplified by their eco. Furthermore, not long in my “sleep” the security guard closed his door, so I, the gringo, was sleeping in a “dangerous” area, under the spot light, with my bag easy to steal, I technically, I’ll be unconscious for a few hours; reassuring indeed!!! I fell asleep at around 10:30, to wake up at 12:00, 2:00, and finally, at the 3am, the vendor took over the border. Steel pipe banging, people waking very close to my bag (a little stressful), rope thrown on me; there was no way I was falling back to sleep where I was, so I got into a small bent, between two columns, about 4 feet from each other, and tried to go back to sleep despite the discomfort, but another vendor came by me, once more pushing me to change place. So I went to sleep on a small patch of trash and dirt, where I wrapped myself once more around my bag and “finished my night”. Not able to fall back asleep, I just laid down until about 4:30am. I crossed the Guatemalan border, crossed to the El Salvadoran one, and in pitch darkness, at around 5:15am, I started hitchhiking.

Sleeping "homeless-style" for the first time

Fifteen minutes is all it took to get a minibus to pull over and accept to give me a ride. Still in the darkness, we got to cross a road block, where a fully geared army patrol with a face mask approached me from the dark and started taking to me in Spanish. I didn’t understand, but since he was looking at my bag, I told him what I had, and he let us pass. Once out of the bus, I cross yet another road block, but this time they didn’t ask me for anything. I raised my thumb, and another bus stopped, this time a bigger one, which brought me to Santa Ana.

My goal was to reach the Laguna Alegria, and against all odds, I managed to reach it in one day. I went around the lake, and asked for direction to the overlook, but not understanding the direction, and not able to find the trailhead, I improvised my way up the crater. The path up wasn’t hard, as I followed cow path up the hill. Once at the summit, I couldn’t find the actual overlook, but a big rock let me have a great view of the green sulfuric lake in the middle of its crater. Seeing some sort of trail, I thought it would bring me back to the road, so I followed it, nut not long after, I realised that it wasn’t a trail. I looked around, and no more trail. The vegetation easy to push around, and noticing a dry creek, I decided to follow the creek downhill where I knew I would cross the road I had just walked on. I was wrong to think it was going to be easy as the vegetation became denser and denser. Every step became a war against nature. I had to break hundreds of branch to be able to take one step, would need to crawl in the dirt to bypass some ridiculously dense zones, walk on top of the plants, would get stuck, wrapped in vines, not able to see where I was going: it was hell! But eventually, I got back on the road, and walked to the office where I took my bag and left. It was starting to get late, and I was quite remote, but I wanted to eat, and shower, but not having changed my money to El Salvadoran dollars, I couldn’t. My solution, push my luck until sunset and try to talk someone into helping me out for the night. It didn’t work out, as three rides later; I was dropped at an intersection in the middle of the lightning show offered by Mother Nature. As I walked back to a small bridge where I thought I could hide from the coming rain, someone whistled at me. He asked me who I was, inviting me at the same time. His brother showed up a few minutes later, and he spoke English, so we talk for a while, and then he invited me to eat. After an amazing meal, we got back to his home, and a few minutes before the storm finally started, I got inside where I took a shower, washed my cloths, and fell asleep on a hammock. Needless to say that after the lack of sleep pf the night before, the starvation endured during the day, and the way to difficult and dirtying hike I had just done, I slept like baby.

Finally, a view point

As I was hitching toward the border, I got picked up by a guy who was also crossing the border, and so, for the first time on this trip, I crossed the border with someone. Once on the other side, we went our separate way as he was heading east, and I south. But twenty minutes later, he picked me up again. The road he tried to take was a dirt road, so he decided to pass by the capital instead.

Honduras was easy to cross, and took less than a day. I usually prefer crossing border in the morning, but I wanted to accumulate a few more miles and decided to cross to Nicaragua in the evening.

The Nicaragua border was definitely different from the others, the people around that border were even worst then the one from any other border I crossed. For instance, the “Bicycle-taxi” told me that there was a 3km gap between the two borders, but not having the money to take one of those, I kept on rejecting the offers, and little did I know, the Nicaragua border was only 10min walk. The other annoying person was the typical money exchange person. I took the money I had to change out, calculated how much I had, and using the application on my phone found how much I was supposed to get. The price I and on my phone was far from the price he came up with. I told him he made a mistake.

-No mistake senor, he said. Look, you have 400$, multiply by 2, and you got 800$.

-Yeah, but on my phone it says you own me 1236$, I’m 400$ short.

-No, no, look, you have 400$, multiply by 2, and you got 800$, he repeated.

-Yeah and where does this “2x” come from? Do you have a proof, because on my phone, it tells me otherwise?

-Ok, look, you have 400$, multiply by 2.5, and you got 1000$, he said trying to make me believe he was compromising, but I just took my money back, giving his back and left telling him I wasn’t going to trade with him.

-Ok, look, you have 400$, multiply by 3, and you got 1200$, he desperately said seeing I wasn’t going get fooled.

I finally accepted seeing I was only loosing 36$ from Nicaragua (note that I don’t remember the actual price as so the number might not make perfect sense, but it gives an idea). After all, I lost about 0,30$, which is far from being that bad.

As I tried to have one last ride for the day, an 18-wheeler stopped by. He was going to Managua, half way across Nicaragua. We drove for a big portion of the evening, and part of the night. Closing in on our destination, he invited me for diner, and finally let me off at the intersection between the road leading to San Juan del Sul, and the one going to Managua.

As I was looking to brake-in an abandoned property to shelter in the abandoned house, a guy stopped by and invited me to stay over at his house. Once home, he prepared me a bed. The house was a 1 room bungalow, with 2 beds (1 for him and the other for his father), a small fridge, and a motorcycle. It really was like you see on TV. As for me, he piled up a few wood pallets, threw a tarp, and gave me clothes to use as pillows. I must say that pallets are not that comfortable, but at least, I can sleep in peace. As we were talking (his father, him and I), a few friends came over, and offered me food.

In the morning, I hiked across the city and hitchhike toward San Juan del Sul. Now I have no idea of how it happened, but as I walked the opposite way I came in (from the north), I was still going north, since I ended up going to San Raphael del Sul. So I was stuck going though quite a big detour. But after a few helpful rides, I was back on track.

I got to San Juan del Sul, and explored the area. When the Sun started to go down, I started looking for a place to sleep. Usually, I don’t mind sleeping close to towns, but in a very touristic town, I don’t feel as safe, so I tried to hitch back to the intersection going to Costa Rica, but instead, got a lift from an American, who offered me to camp on his law (away from the city).

The next morning, he brought me back to the main road, and as a bonus, I got to go groceries shopping. Not having spent money for two days, my budget was of 2$ (roughly 42 Nicaraguan Cordoba). With my only 2$, I got to buy 5 bags of Ramen Soup. I have to add that this was the first time I bought food in a groceries store. In other word, within 40 days on road tripping, I paid for only 1 meal at a restaurant, and spent 2$ in groceries, not bad at all.

I finally got to the Nicaragua-Costa Rica border; Hell, as usual! Crossing the Nicaragua border was full of unexpected additional cost (they were all justified, so I couldn’t contest them), but the worst one was the Costa Rica one who didn’t except my entry until I had a proof that I was exiting the country. Try to do that when you are a hitchhiker. I argued with 3 border patrol for about an hour, trying all sorts of compromise, but in the end, the head border patrol, told his employees that they were not allowed to talk to me unless I had a bus ticket in my end. Fearing to be blocked from the country if I kept trying to pass with paying for a bus ticket, I went to the bus vendors, and tried to help me out by purchasing a bus ticket and cancelling it, but no tickets were cancellable. Finally, I gave up, and bought the cheapest ticket, just to get my stamp, and through the bus ticket away (it was a bus to Nicaragua which was not the border I was heading for). Finally, I got my stamp, let change my money and get out of the hell hole. But once again, the money guy tried to fool me, with the exact same trick, so I repeated the same things I told my Nicaraguan Friend a few days before.

It took me about 3h to reach Rio Celeste, my first destination, but when I arrived, they told me the park was closed until the next day. Being 10km on very low traffic dirt road, I had no place to go, and there wasn’t any place to camp around which wasn’t private property. So with the help of Randi, a volunteer from the park who spoke English, I got permission to through my tent in the tall grass next to the parking lot. Because of the tall herbs, I couldn’t see the landscape of where my tent was. I went and hung out with the rangers for about an hour, while the rain started to fall down. When I got back to my tent, I lay down, and noticed that there were different pools of water in my tent. I got out, and looked around only to notice that a pool had started growing under my tent. In the darkness of a cloudy and rainy night, I got out, only in my underwear, feeling the cold drops of water sliding down my spine, to try to find a new place to move my tent. I tried a first place, then a second, but there was no way the dirt was going to hold the picks of my tent (mandatory since I only brought half of the structure). The result, the tent fell on me almost instantly and I lost one of my picks. I was discourage, what do I do now; I can’t see, can’t put up my tent, the rain is getting stronger and stronger, and I clearly need to find a new place to camp which is not in the tall grass. So I packet my bag, put on some pants, took my tent (still assembled) and walked back to the ranger station, where completely wet, I explain the situation to Randi who translated it to the head ranger, which gave me permission to sleep in the gazebo. My tent being wet, I folded it, and decided to simply sleep on one of bench of the gazebo. The bench was about 5’8 (I’m 5’10), 1ft across and nothing to lean against. I put my sleeping back over the bench and hoped no cockroach would come visit me that night. As I was trying to balance myself while falling asleep, the rain doubled its intensity, enough for the splash to get to me (nothing intense, but definitely not fun), but that was the best place I would get, so I just ignored it.

The next day, the ranger cooked me a typical breakfast, and knowing the normally turquoise water would be brown because of the rain, I decided to head toward San José, but I was still 10km in low traffic dirt road, and it’s early in the morning, so it took me 1h35min walking under the rain to see a single car going my way. At least he picked me up.

I crossed the mountain pass, and the rain disappeared, and my clothes got to dry, as I was waiting. Costa Rica is definitely the hardest country to hitchhike in Central America, which was very frustrating. I had a lot of distance to go through, and I was used to wait only 15min, but now it was closer to 40min. As I got closer to San José, a huge dark grey cloud appeared behind me as I was desperately trying to get one last ride direct to San José, and 10min after an 18-wheeler picked me up, a massif rain fell down on us, once more, my luck saved me from the rain.

I didn’t that rain as much since the 18-wheeler was going to the capital, and there, Laura was waiting for me. I called Laura, and passed the phone to the driver, and they talked to find the best way for me to meet her. And once in town, Laura came to pick me up, brought me for lunch, and finally at her home. I got to shower (with hot water for a change), wash my cloth and she helped me organise my stay in Costa Rica. She called one of her friend, Andrea, and got me a ride for the next day to visit the Poas Volcano, and another place to stay overnight. It felt good to have a place to relax for a night. When my head touched the pillow, I felt it felt weird, what was that comfort I missed so much? I started thinking, only to realise that I hadn’t had a real bed, nor pillow since Ciudad Mante, on the October 22nd, and we were November 10th, so for 19 days, and through 7 countries!!

The next day, I got in a bus toward the north end of the city where Andrea was waiting for me. We drove to the volcano through the sinusoid road, and finally arrived at the park entrance. The view was amazing. The path was surrounded by tropical plants, whereas the crater was pure rock, with a perfectly turquoise sulfuric pond in the middle. The walls of the crater were a mix of black, beige (the rhyolite), sulfuric yellow, and a little red (from iron). To finish off, being in high altitude, we could see the massif clouds bellow us with just enough overture to see the valley down below. What a sight, and what a day to visit it.

What a beautiful day to visit the Poas Volcano

We drove down the volcano, where I started heading toward the beaches, and the Pacific. Getting to Athenas was quite easy, but getting out was a whole other game, as I waited 1h15min in the heat of the Sun. Finally, got two back-to-back rides to the interstate where 50min later, I finally got a ride; and a good one. We drove for quite a while up until my driver got to Quepos. I looked around, couldn’t find a place to sleep, so I hitched, and immediately got another ride to the next town, looked once more, but still no, so I hitch again, and that ride brought me to Manuel Antonio beach where it was already dark. Looked around, no place to sleep, but I can’t keep on going, so I went to the extremity of the beach and through my tent, hope the tide isn’t too high!!

My next target was Colon, Panama. To reach it wasn’t too hard. A few rides to the border of Costa Rica, where thousands of people were striking at the border. As for myself, I had to squeeze my way through the mob, which is easier said than done with 45lbs strapped to you. After losing patience a few times against the electronic border machine, a patrol came to help me and off I went to the Panama border, probably the easiest border so far as I didn’t have to open my mouth once. Got in line, got a stamp, and got to go. And so on November 12th, I entered my last country of North America (this exclude the Caribbean), and the 9th country of the trip.

My first ride took some time, about 40 for two ladies to pick me up. The next one, a guy and a girl my age, picked me up almost as I exited the car, but once out, I once more had to wait a few minutes. Was it worth it; definitely, since a truck stopped. They were going to El Chorrera, only an hour from Panama City. But not only have I got a massive ride near my destination, but they had leftover food, that they gave me, plus invited me to a restaurant at a truck stop. They even proposed to me to sleep in the truck as they were rolling through the darkness of the late evening, but it was only 18 o’clock.

Finally at destination, I looked behind the grass station only to find a vast piece of grass, with a few trees here and there. I the darkness, it was easy to hide from the people from the city, but I still hide between the trees for the next morning.

Once up and running, I went to the first end of town, but I could see that there was more of the town coming up. It took me 1h20min to have a car stopping by, and they weren’t pleasant as the traffic was very high and not friendly. People faking to stop, making gestures through their windows, and taxis, lots of taxis stopping constantly. I guess in Panama they don’t know the difference between hitchhiking and calling a taxi.

The guy brought me to the intersection of the road passing along the Panama channel, and from that point on, hitchhiking became the easy as easy can be. The second car stopped to bring me at destination, easier ride were to come, but first, I stopped at Colon. Since I entered Mexico, every time I mentioned I was going to Colon, everyone would tell how dangerous the city was, no exceptions. I was supposed to stay in town in exchange for some work, but as I entered the dangerous town, I could reach my host. All I knew is that I was going to volunteer for Panamax. Since I couldn’t reach him, I decided to head to the port and try to find where the sailboats were. Despite being in the city, I walked with my thumb exposed, and 5min later got a first ride. Immediately, I got a second one, by 2 girls. They brought me to the port, but with the amount of safety and guards at the entrance, I didn’t even try to get in. Anyway, there were no sailboats. Instead, I asked a first police officer where was Panamax, he didn’t know, but after 5 other polices (always called by the last police officer), I got an answer; go to the Zona Libre. Once at the Zona Libre, I asked around, and was told I was in the wrong Zona Libre, I had to walk 30min to get to the right zone. I need to add that throughout my trip, I saw some very poor people, but the dump city of Colon was by far the worst; it looked like a city that got bombed, definitely not the most fun place to walk through with a big backpack containing money, passport, computer and camera. When I finally got to the right zone, the security guard gave me some indication, but as I followed them, I realised that Panamax didn’t seems to exist. Everybody was sending me to San Panama, despite me showing how to spell Panamax. Giving up, I got back to the mall, where there was internet, and looked at my email for some update from my host. First, I went to a restaurant, I thought that since I had reached my destination, I got pay myself a little treat, plus it would calm me down from the frustration of going all over town (dangerous town) to only end up at the starting point. Finally, I got news from my host telling me he couldn’t help me out, and that I was on my own for the night. Not knowing what to do, I looked at my map and at the satellite view of my phone to realise that in Pertobelo, there was a port with what looked like lots of sailboat. Furthermore, being a small town in a national park, I thought I wouldn’t be too dangerous overnight.

So, after having lost 5h getting lost in town, I got up and left the mall to get a bus stop by my side inviting me to hop in: for free of course. I talked with the lady next to me in the bus, and she helped me find the road to the national park. Barely off the bus, and still in the middle of town, that a car stopped by my side. They were going to Pertobelo, thus being my last ride in North America (from an overall 326), and the 5th car in a row who picked me up under 5min.

Once in the small village, I realized that for the first time since I left, I didn’t know what my next step was. It felt weird, since I had never done anything remotely similar to hitchboating, and I didn’t know anyone who had that could help me. Where was I going to stay for a few days without spending money? Are some boats going to South America, or are do they all belong to the locals? Where was I going to find the captains?

As I was visiting the ruins of an old fort in town, I met a group of strangers from Paraguay with whom I talked. Excited about my trip, they tried to help me out. First, they offered me a bit of food, some apples and two sandwiches. Then, they came with me to talk to the local for some information about the boats. Since they spoke both English and Spanish, they could help me ask question and understand the answer. Finally, one of the captains showed up, but he had just taken someone to sail with to Colombia, a guy from France that arrived a few hours before me. On the other hand, despite not having a ride, they told me how to find a ride to Colombia. I had to go to the hostel “Captain Jack” and give my name to the receptionist, and if a captain would pass by, they would inform him that I’m willing to work on the boat in exchange for a ride to the lower continent. And so I did. There was one last problem, where to sleep? I asked the receptionist if it was possible to work for my stay, but the answer was no. She told me to go see another hostel, but the answer was the same. I finally got to a third hostel (which I’m not sure is an hostel), and there, I found a room I could sleep in for free if in exchange, I help with the maintenance of the property. All I have is an empty room, and access to a bathroom (with no light), but at least, the gears are running, and it’s now time to wait for a new captain to arrive in town.

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Country's Statistics

Belize

Number of nights : 1

Numbers of days on the road : 1

Percentage of invitation at night : 0%

Overall waiting time : 2h

Average wait : 7min

Longest wait : 15min

Male vs female : 92% male – 8% female – 0% mixed

Total amount of rides : 13

Average spending per day : -24,92$/day

Place visited : 1

Total km : 429km

Meal offered : 100%

Guatemala

Number of nights : 3

Numbers of days on the road : 3

Percentage of invitation at night : 67%

Overall waiting time : 4h

Average wait : 13min

Longest wait : 1h 05min

Male vs female : 76% male – 6% female – 3% mixed

Total amount of rides : 17

Average spending per day : +2,03$/day

Place visited : 1

Total km : 796km

Meal offered : 44%

El Salvador

Number of nights : 1

Numbers of days on the road : 1

Percentage of invitation at night : 100%

Overall waiting time : 2h

Average wait : 9min

Longest wait : 25min

Male vs female : 81% male – 0% female – 17% mixed

Total amount of rides : 16

Average spending per day : -0,33$/day

Place visited : 1

Total km : 382km

Meal offered : 100%

Honduras

Number of nights : 0

Numbers of days on the road : 1

Percentage of invitation at night : n/a

Overall waiting time : 1h

Average wait : 8min

Longest wait : 15min

Male vs female : 86% male – 0% female – 14% mixed

Total amount of rides : 7

Average spending per day : -3,95$/day

Place visited : 0

Total km : 130km

Meal offered : 33%

Nicaragua

Number of nights : 2

Numbers of days on the road: 1

Percentage of invitation at night : 0%

Overall waiting time : 3h

Average wait : 11min

Longest wait : 35min

Male vs female : 68% male – 0% female – 32% mixed

Total amount of rides : 19

Average spending per day : -7,36$/day

Place visited : 0

Total km : 401km

Meal offered : 33%

Costa Rica

Number of nights : 3

Numbers of days on the road: 3

Percentage of invitation at night : 33%

Overall waiting time : 9h

Average wait : 25min

Longest wait : 1h 35min

Male vs female : 74% male – 2% female – 17% mixed

Total amount of rides : 23

Average spending per day : -24,17$/day

Place visited : 2

Total km : 808km

Meal offered : 56%

Panama

Number of nights : 32

Numbers of days on the road: 4

Percentage of invitation at night : 100%

Overall waiting time : 5h

Average wait : 15min

Longest wait : 1h 20min

Male vs female : 75% male – 10% female – 15% mixed

Total amount of rides : 20

Average spending per day : -12,37$/day

Place visited : 1

Total km : 788km

Meal offered : 35%

PHOTOS

Path of Central America

Belice - Iguana

Guatemala - Two night in the church's school

Guatemala - A glimpse of a Guatemalan live

Guatemala - Sleeping at the border

Semuc Champey

El Salvador - Hitchhiking with the police

El Salvador - Whip Spider

El Salvador - First night in a hammock

El Salvador - Laguna Alegria

Costa Rica - Banana Spider

Costa Rica - Poas Volcano

Costa Rica - Hermit Crab

Costa Rica - Manuel Antonio

Costa Rica - Cooking rice on the beach

Panama - Monkey

Chap 4 (Darien Gap)

---November 14th 2015---

The 14th of November, was my first day of work, and what a day!! As I woke up, a massive tropical rain was falling on the small town. Not knowing if I was supposed to work for the day, or stay inside, I decided to work under the rain. I started removing all the herbs in the alley, followed by getting rid the rock pilled next to the wall. As I was removing them, the owner, Angel, game out screaming at me, in Spanish that is. I didn’t understand much, and wasn’t sure if I had done something wrong or if I was simply supposed to stop working for the rain. And so, my first day of work was almost a day off. Later that afternoon, the rain stopped, I had taken the time to look at the forecast, for the next few days. I knocked on the door, and asked Angel if I could start working again. He told me I had the day off because of the rain, but not wanting to exploit him, I told him that if I were to stop working for a full day because of the rain, I wouldn’t be working for at least a week. And so I convinced him to let me work every time, the rain stopped.

Yes, its the rainy season

The next day was much better as it barely rain. On the other hand, I realised that the rocks I had being moving for a part of the day weren’t supposed to go where I threw them, so for the first part of the day, my job was to repair my mistake. It didn’t take too long before I faced on of Panama’s reality; here bugs are very different than from home, and in a bad way. Is I would blindly put my hands under the bigger rocks; I would scare all sorts of creepy crawly, such as lizards, whip spiders, but also tarantula. The worst was that not only I didn’t have any gloves, but also the tarantula would always run and hide a few rocks farther, so I kept on putting my hand in his nest. To avoid getting bit by it, I started using the shovel to shack the rocks, scaring the evil insects away, and letting me play with the rock without too much worries.

The days kept on adding as my encounter with the local wildlife would keep on happening. One night, as I entered my room, I saw a huge 1-1/2” cockroach crawling on the floor. I stepped on it, and sat down on the ground, with my back leaning on the wall to write a little bit. Eventually, I felt something on the back of my neck. I didn’t think much, as I thought it was just my head playing tricks on me after the cockroach, but as you can imagine, I was wrong, the same cockroach came to pay me an up-close visit. Freaking out, I took a plastic bag and slammed on the poor creature, but this time, I took the time to cut it in two to make sure it wouldn’t come back to life again. Needless to say, I felt great knowing I had the idea to put up my tent in my room, rather than just unrolling my sleeping bag.

Trying to paint between the narrow walls

On another occasion, as I entered a room to fix the door, I notice a big black butterfly flying in the room, I thought it was the same kind as the night before, so I tried to catch it, but as I got closer, I realised it wasn’t a butterfly, but a bat. It got to the other side of the small room, and hung upside-down. Not bothering me, I simply kept on working.

Finally, on my fourth day, I got my first sign of encouragement. As I was scrapping the paint off of the front patio, a guy, Tomas, came to ask me if I knew who was looking for a captain. He had some work to do on his boat, so we didn’t got to go in depth as to what he wanted, so we planned a meeting for the next day at 19h, and see whether or not I’m the guy he’s looking for, and if he’s the boat I’m looking for.

All throughout the night, and throughout the day, I thought about the offer. When came 7 o’clock, Tomas showed up, and we went down to the kitchen to discuss about the option. Karoll and Joannas, a Polish couple staying in the hostel I was working at, had prepared a few questions to get more information about the proposed trip. I have to say, they helped me out quite a bit since I didn’t do much research on hitchboating, so all throughout my stay, they gave me good information on what to expect. We asked question like where he was going, what was included, how long would the trip be, in what condition was the boat, etc. Very rapidly, we realised that neither side were looking for what the other side was asking for. He wasn’t going to Colombia, but only to a small pier called Puerto Obaldia, to which no road connected. This meant that from there, we would need a speed boat to reach Colombia, and find another boat to the nearest road. Definitely not go for us who wanted to reach Colombia, but we kept on talking to gather as much information, to compare with future captain. Being from Belgium, Tommy eventually told me in French, that if I wanted to work for him, I could get a free ride, but he would need to find enough people to be able to pay the expense. This option reopened my candle. I asked if I could go to and back with the same deil, and when he told me I could, I thought it could be a cool experience. He even added that he would be willing to pay me. I wouldn’t be able to reach Colombia, but I would get the opportunity to visit a part of the world I never would have thought I would visit, I would gain experience for the next captain to pick me up, and a few buck would hurt. He was still waiting a part to repair his boat, so he wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to leave, and as for me, taking the opportunity meant that I would lose for about 1-2 week. So on both side, we thought it would be better to wait a few days before agreeing on anything. So for now, let’s keep on working for my shelter, and hope for another captain to pass by.

Days were passing by, but were all the same. The only thing that would differ is the comfort of the cement I was sleeping on. The more I sleep on it, the less comfortable it becomes. Some days, the rain prevents me from working; some other had just enough blue sky between the passing clouds to do a little painting. But also, as I would accumulate days, I would also lose the pleasure of working for my stay. The first few days were fun, but eventually, you fall into a rut, and loose the feeling you are travelling. That being said, it is part of my trip, and once it’ll be all over, I look back at the experience and probably enjoy it.

On my 16th day of work, I asked the usual question: “¿Cuál es el trabajo por hoy?” and to my surprise, the owner told me to go pick up the bed from my neighbouring room, and put it in my room. After 19 days, 17 of which I slept on solid concrete, I got a bed. And it was time, because my back was starting to hurt. Working all day bent down, followed by a night directly on concrete is definitely not the best recipe for a strong back. Add to that not having a table for my computer, I was bent all day long, and day after day.

That same day, I meet an American, which had just got in town. I told him about my story, and when I told him I couldn’t find the captains in town, he gave me information I had being looking for, and for quite a while: “Go at the port between 4:30 and 5:30. I was there to take pictures, and saw tones of people leaving there boat to go grocery chopping. This is probably your best bet.”

From that point on, almost every day, I got to the port around these times. I almost instantly realised it was much better to talk with the different captain rather than just wait for one to want to meet me. I also got to Perto Lindo and got to talk with quite a few captains, but no luck there.

In the meantime, I kept on working; lots of painting, cleaning walls, and racking. For most of the task I’m asked to do, I had previous experience, making them quite easy, but one that was still proving problematic was cutting grass. Yes, I did a lot of grass cutting in my life, but never have I had to cut it using a machete. So, on my second try at grass cutting, as I was in the front of the house, a kid coming back from school stopped and looked at me. He then said something I couldn’t understand, and immediately took my machete. He explained to me how to do such a task; using the front part of the machete, and smashing it in the ground rather than try avoiding hitting it. It took me a few minutes, but eventually, it started making sense. I got to say, the technic is pretty hard, but mostly, it doesn’t take too long for you forearm to cramp up.

Another task I was asked to do a few time was to collect the papaya. Now that one I like. Sometime, I use a latter and grab them by hand, but sometime, they are way too high, and the tree isn’t very strong, so no way anyone can climb it. So, Angel (the owner I’m working for) goes on the balcony and with a long stick, and pocks them until they fall. My job is to stay under and try to catch them, without dropping them. On one of the tree, the other plants hide the first part of the fall, and change its trajectory, so it is like playing a game. The fun part is that usually he’s alone, and so the fruit fall flat on the ground, so if I drop one, we both just laugh. The way of collecting the fruit, is by myself. I have to take a long stick, and with my right hand, pock the fruit until it breaks, and in an instant, catch the falling fruit only using my left hand (my bad hand), now that is a challenge, but boy is it ever fun.

One thing that I’ve noticed, while staying in Portobelo for a few days, is how many kids you see playing outside; playing baseball, soccer, tag, wrestling, canoeing, etc. To be a kid who was raised without videogames, it feels nice to see kids enjoying what made your youth. Now a day, in “first world country” you don’t see kids having fun without having technology. In fact, you barely see them outside. I still think these poorer countries have something to teach us, something we forgot through all the comfort and useless thing we got.

I was now December 11th. I had being in Portobelo for 28 long, eventless and boring days. Despite telling everyone “I just need to keep on hoping, and eventually, I’ll find my ride”, I had stopped believing my own word. I was starting to slowly fall. One of the captains I had an agreement with turned his back on me because on our last encounter, he didn’t tell me that his plan to stay in Panama had changed to going to Cartagena, and he was mad at me for not helping him. If he would have mentioned Cartagena, I would have jumped in and help him finish repairing his boat, but since he wasn’t heading anywhere good for me, I decided to keep working where I was. Obviously, this wasn’t the only one, but definitely was the biggest blow to the head. And even though the vast majority of captain I had talked to were very nice people, only heading the wrong way, I would always run into these captain trying to discourage me. Always inventing statistic to make kill the little hope I had in me. And this is what just happened that night. Two older captain drinking beer at the local grocery shop started taking pleasure running me down. After the “fortunate” encounter, I got back to my room, and was so filled with anger that I couldn’t fall asleep. I kept on asking me what I was missing. Starting to be late, I decided to go around town, and try to find the bar where all the captain were heading at night. No luck. With absolutely nothing encouraging me to keep on walking to the dock, other than the anger I had to walk off, I went there.

To this point, the dock had always been a source of frustration, but as I got there, I saw a new boat. It was dark; I couldn’t see much with only two old orange lights to enlighten the three guys working. Two were Local guy, and another on in a small boat in the water was too far from the dim light to see his nationality. With my ever terrible Spanish, I asked “¿Es el bote vas por Colombia? Es porque yo quiere to trovar un bote que yo trabajo por une ray por Cartagena.” The answer was negative. I guess a gringo asking, in a language he doesn’t speak, for work, in the middle of the night, isn’t the best way to get a job. But despite their depressing answer, I tried one last thing. The men in the water looked paler than the other one, maybe he wasn’t from Panama, and if so, maybe he had a ship. “¿Es que los trece trabajo por el similar bote?” It took two or three tries for that sentence to be understood, but eventually, the stranger on the water told me he didn’t work with the other two. Seeing he spoke English, I asked him if he was a captain, and if he was going to Cartagena. I explained a little bit my trip, and responded with his drunken English: “Sorry, I’m not going there, and if so, it’s in the month of March.” He paused, followed by “But I would be willing to help you. If you can find some clients for a charter, I don’t mind giving you a ride to Cartagena.” It is crazy how fast anger, rage and discouragement can disappear vanishes when you hear what you want to hear.

He told to hop in his tiny little boat, to help him carry fresh water to his boat. We talked for a little while, talking about the details; how much do I say the charter is, what is included, how much people does he need, and finally, he gave me his phone number, so that I could contact him in the morning, and when I would have found a few clients. I finally asked him my final question “If I were to find everyone by tomorrow, how soon do you think we could leave?” and his respond was even better than I imagined “In two days, I can be up and running.”

Once back on shore, I walked back to my hostel, but just wanted jump and scream of joy. Things weren’t finished, but I had a captain and my stay in Portobelo was almost over. That being said, a new challenged came in: find clients, in such a small town.

Needless to say that once I got back to my room, I still couldn’t sleep, but this time, anger wasn’t the cause, but quite the opposite. Suddenly Portobelo didn’t seem too bad.

Finding clients wasn’t going to be as easy as it seemed. The people who came to Portobelo usually have a booked boat, meaning Portobelo wasn’t going to be my home anymore. My first destination was Colon. I got there and went around the city. As I previously mentioned, Colon is deemed one of the most dangerous city in the world. With the economy of the Panama Channel, lots of money rolls in town, but the people who live there have absolutely nothing. Building about to claps are what the habitants of the city calls home. No one cares for pollution, so the streets are shared between the dirty resident, the dying dogs, and the trash. Furthermore, those same trash starts to decompose leaving slimy streets behind and the smell coming with it. On my first visit of the dumpville, I had my backpack with my passport, money, computer, and many more, so I didn’t feel comfortable walking the street. This time, I was free from anything, and so, against all recommendation, I tackled the small street only the lowest of class use. It was a whole other world. I haven’t being everywhere in the world, but I have to say that Colon is undeniably the poorest place I’ve witness in my life.

Unfortunately, other than that not so safe hike, I found nothing. I headed back toward Portobelo, but was too late to keep searching. Knowing a new bar was opening in town, owned by two guys who had supported me, I decided to head there. As expected, Tomas, the first captain I had encountered was there. He had offered me a free ride to the border of Panama, but not to Colombia in exchange for work, but when it was time for me to start helping him, he told me there was a lot of unknowns, meaning that I would have a place to sleep, but no food, and if the boat were to work properly, I wouldn’t have a ride to Cartagena. Being in a tight situation, I had to refuse the offer. Unfortunately, he had forgotten to tell me that his plan had changed and that he was going to Cartagena. So when I learn about it, he told me it was too late. Having now my new offer, by Captain Philip, I needed help figuring how to find clients from Portobelo, so I went and talked with him. I took the opportunity to explain why I had refused the previous offer, finishing, on a “If you change your mind, I’m still willing to work on the boat.” It turns out that he needed help indeed. There it was; I had my ride.

Ten in the morning was the moment I got aboard the Guam, a 12 meter sailboat, with a weak heart, or engine. As mentioned, in exchange for the free ride across the gap, I needed to work; and for work, it sure was. My job was to apnea under the boat to remove the millions of clamps glued to it. I spent 7h in water getting constantly cut by those hellish sea creatures. It may not sound like much, but if you add the constant swimming, the very hard removal, the water sucking all your heat, breathing only through a tube and the constant swallowing salt water, you get an extremely demanding day. On the other hand, this was definitely the first time I did anything like that, so it was great experience. Furthermore, with all the clamps braking, it makes perfect fish food, so as you work, tones of fishes gathers around for a feast.

The Guam, the boat which helped me get to my first new continent

After three days working and sleeping on the boat, it was finally the time to leave Portobelo and head out to sea. So, at around 9pm, we started the engine to head out of the port. Or so we tried. Right off the bat, one of the engine gears broke. It wasn’t good, since two of our clients needed to be in Cartagena within five days; already a tight schedule. Tomas ran to the dinghy to buy a new gear, while I was dismounting the broken piece. We rushed as best we could to fix everything, and finally, half an hour past midnight, we got the engine to start. It was time to leave. I waved back at Portobelo, thinking to myself: “Finally, I’m back on the road”. As we got out of the port and into open water, we realised that there was a diesel leak causing smoke in the boat’s cabin. We needed to do something about it, but Tomas couldn’t work on the engine, leaving the boat alone, so I told him I would take the night shift as he would fix the leak. He gave me a crash course of what to do, and went in to fix the engine. It took him all the way to 4:30am to fix the engine. Pretty good for a first day at sea, 22h straight up and awake. This wouldn’t have being so bad if it weren’t that my next shift on the watch wasn’t at 7:30am. I had three hours of sleep before taking in another twelve hour shift at the watch. Needless to say, I was dead tired. Tomas tried to sleep but couldn’t due to the stress, so he tried fixing yet another engine problem that had popped during the previous fix, and once done, I asked him for a 20min sleeping break, before taking another shift at the watch. We got to the San Blas by night fall. We ate supper and dead tired, we went to bed. It was around 11pm. Within the last 40h, I had only slept three and a half, and worked for about thirty six of them. Despite all the work and the exhaustion, I enjoyed it. I got to fully experience life on the sea. Plus, through the darkness of the night and as the boat was braking the water ahead, we could see the small plankton lighting the broken water with tiny neon blue bioluminescence. Not only were there a million stars in the sky, but there were now a thousand more in the sea.

Still requiring fixing, Tomas gave me a day off at the San Blas, for him to work. I took the dinghy and brought everyone to shore. The scenery was the picture perfect sand beach island covered by the typical palm tree. I took the snorkeling gear and headed to the coral reef. I got to see a few coral, and small colored fishes, I even got to see two Lion Fish. Once my lungs emptied a few time, I went for a walk around the island. Despite the paradisiac beauty of the island, and awful reality showed its face: pollution. All around the civilisation free island, lay trash. It seems that no matter how remote the location seems, our trash have conquered the landscape.

Also called PAradise on Earth, these San Blas are more and more popular

Due to a small rain fall early in the afternoon, we decided to spend the second half of our day around the boat rather than on the beach. I once more took the snorkeling gear, and headed for the deeper coral. At about ten-fifteen feet deep, I had to dive well below the comfort depth. My ears were in great pain, and my lungs hurting due to the amount of apnea I had done cleaning the boat and snorkeling, but I kept on diving and diving, not to miss a single second of this small paradise. But eventually, my body gave up; it was time to head back to the boat. That being said, it wasn’t time to stop having fun. We started diving off the side of the boat, and using the ropes to swing from the boat to the Caribbean.

When eight o’clock came, we bought langouste and prepared our meal. As everyone went to sleep, I helped Tomas lifting the anchor and off we went. This time, I wasn’t just doing the watch, he gave me the bar and I was guiding the boat through the islands and the reefs as he would read the GPS and telling me what direction to aim. Being a tricky sailing route, Tomas took over the night watch as I crashed to sleep. The boat may have waved back and forth, and side to side, but I was too tired to care.

Seeing we still had a few engine problems, and very little time to reach Cartagena, We decided to change our course and go for Capurgana. From there, our four passengers could take a speed boat to Turbo and a bus to Cartagena. As for me, I stayed with Tomas. I promised, I told him I was going to help him a little bit after the trip. Help him fix the boat.

Knowing my situation and knowing there was no road to main land, Tomas told me that if I wanted to, I could help him through another charter, a smaller one, and in exchange, he would pay me a speedboat and maybe give me a few extra dollars for the rest of my trip. I gladly accepted. This meant I was going to spend Christmas in Capurgana, and get little more sea experience. That being said, I had no money on me, and neither did Tomas. I could sleep on board and we still had food, but because all of the money we had spent on food, fuel and new engine pieces in Portobelo, we didn’t have the money needed for me to check-in the country. Having no bank, I was forced to stay in a hostel in exchange for them to act as a bank. I felt horrible; I had to pay for a place to sleep, this was not something I was allowing myself, but what choice did I have. To stay optimistic, I told myself they had a shower, so at least, after seven days, I got to shower.

The next morning, I got back to the boat and started working. Obviously, there was a lot of cleaning to do, but the task that proved the most challenging was to reposition the platform in the back of the boat. Stuck in the port of Capurgana, which isn’t protected from the wave, I had to do all the measurements and marking while the boat was rocking in all direction. While I was waving left and right up and down, I was leaning on a steel pipe cutting slightly my breath to be able to reach the lower screws. Waves were splashing in my face and losing tools was a real danger, which, after losing one, forced me to use ropes to hold all the tools to the boat. Getting everything off was hard enough, but marking all the measurements got even harder. Despite having done a lot of construction in the past, I felt like none of my past experience was going to be useful. Still caused by the motion of the boat, a level is useless, all I can use was a square, but the boat didn’t have much flat surface, making it very hard to use. Furthermore, the only ruler on board wasn’t long enough to go from one side to the other of the boat, there was about an inch missing, so finding the center of the boat was nearly impossible. It took me quite a while, but with perseverance, I managed to make the impossible and finish my marking. Unfortunately, the job didn’t finish there, and was going to be even harder than the previously impossible task; drilling and placing the platform. Having three-to-four feet high waves splashing me as I was working; there was no way to use any electric drill. On the other hand, having finished his work in Capurgana, Thomas and I sailed to Sapzuro.

Sailing to our new location felt great. Once left the port, we put the auto-pilot on and played card for a little while. Eventually, the wind started causing problem to the autopilot, so Thomas offered me to hold the bar. This was my second time taking over the boat. He guided me by giving me direction, and I had to keep the boat align with it. I got to sail the boat all the way in the bay. Even if the bay was much calmer, the entrance of it was much rougher. With ten feet waves hitting us sideway, it was no time for me to make a mistake. I had to keep my direction as I needed to keep track of the wind, the depth of the bay, and making sure no wave were too got over the boat. It was challenging indeed, but Thomas kept confident with me behind the bar, which helped me keep my confidence high.

Finally in our new bay, we enjoyed a day off. No work for a full after noon; what a great concept after all the hard working I had done. When the Sun got down, I collapsed. Dead tired, I slept like a baby, and without any waves rocking the boat, it felt even better. The next day, I took the dinghy and went in the forest to pick a few coconuts, bananas and lemon. Just a few days before, after having celebrated X-mas we left the gas tank opened all night long, and so, we had nothing to do our cooking with. Furthermore, without any money, we couldn’t buy any cooking free food, so having as much fruits as possible felt like a good idea. I also took the time to grab a few branches for BBQing with Thomas small BBQ. We managed to make a few meals with only our fruits and rice.

A few days later, we tackled the platform again. The sea was much nicer, but still, the small waves proved to be as painful as the other one we had had to face, but this time for different reason. To drill the holes, and screw the platform, I had to stay on the small dinghy. That being said, the small dinghy rocks a whole lot more than the boat, and with no synchronicity at all. While my drill would go up and down and from side to side, I would need to hold on with one hand on the boat not to float away. It took us about half a day to drill four holes and assemble everything, a job which would normally take around ten minutes.

Having no more money, no gas to cook the little food we had on the boat, and no cook-free food left, Thomas and I decided to head back to Capurgana to take some money out. We took a longsha and we got back to the hostel I took money out when I entered Colombia. The man at the register didn’t want to help since the hostel was full and we needed to stay a night to take some money out. It took us about 4h, but eventually, we managed to contact the owner of the hostel and make a deal to get that money out.

No money, no problem; there is coconuts!!!

Our first order of business was to eat, so we went to a small restaurant and ordered for only 10’000 pesos Colombian a soup, some meat, rice, salad, and patacon. Not able to find a lancha to head back to Sapzuro, we needed to find a place to stay for the night. All of the hostels were full, but Thomas had a friend who invited us to his place, but first we had to go party with his friend, mostly since I didn’t know where the house. And so we did.

We woke early in the afternoon, but not having much money, and a lot to buy, we decided to cross the dangerous Darien Jungle by foot. Actually, there is a small trail connecting Capurgana and Sapzuro. We took our time, hoping to meet new jungle creature, but the menacing weather kept them hidden.

I may not have seen any toucans, but I still managed to meat this colorful guy

Now that money wasn’t an issue, the Darien Gap needed to find a new problem to slow us down. This time, it was the gas. No matter where in town, we couldn’t find anywhere to buy gas; in fact, they were all out. We may have gotten food, but we still couldn’t cook them. So once more, we ran around the beach collecting fire wood and made a BBQ.

It was now New Year’s Eve, and we wanted to make ourselves a little feast to celebrate the new coming year. Knowing how to prepare and cook them, Thomas proposed to go Caracol hunting. We grabbed the snorkeling gear and swam toward the reefs. These reefs are shallow enough to break the coming waves from the sea, thus making Sapzuro’s port so calm, so when we got to the reef, we had to deal with three to five feet high waves. As we would dive, between 12 and 30 feet, we would get socked in and spit out of the reef by the current. We eventually had to call it a day as the waves were reducing drastically our visibility, and with the waves throwing us left and right, while not seeing much further than our hands, finding those clamps proved impossible.

Invited by one of the local bar, Thomas and I got to change from 2015 to 2016 with a few tourists visiting the small village on the edge of the Darien. At first we enjoyed a beer with the bartender and a few friends, but not long after, we got to share a few shots with the clients. Two were from Spain, two from Medellin, and a family with their friends from here in there in Colombia. I must say, usually, I don’t like clichés, but those Colombian were exactly what those how have being to Colombia have told me. Very open minded, easy to talk with, interesting, and extremely generous. They offered me few more shots, taught me a few salsa steps, gave me there contact information for me to have a place to stay when I would reach their respective town, and on the next day, they even bought me lunch. My trip in Colombia still hasn’t fully started and already I have a place to stay almost everywhere in the country. I had great expectation for the Colombians, based on what everyone who had been there had told me, but still, I didn’t expect them to be that friendly.

A few days later, after having tried over and over to find these caracols, one of Thomas friends told us we weren’t looking for the right one. The one in the bay were actually right on the rocks, on the coast shore. Determined to try new food, or at least for me, Thomas and I walked to the reefs and started picking the small clamps. It may sound much easier than diving in the depth of the reefs, but it was not. Once more, we had to deal with the waves, this time breaking on us as we would be thrown on the sharp rocks. I swallowed gallons of disgusting sea water and cut my hands a few times, but we managed to collect our clamps. As for preparation, a small fire on the beach did the trick just fine.

As the days were passing by, Thomas and I had to face yet another challenge; our food was getting rarer and rarer, we had nothing left to cook it and we had no more money to buy anything. Thankfully, Carolina’s family, which owned the small bar we had spent New Year’s had figured out we were in need of help, so for the rest of our stay in Sapzuro, they invited us many time to the bar to share their food with us. I would take care of the kids, and help with the dishes, as Thomas would help them with the cooking. We got closer and closer to the small family, so when, after 22 days of waiting, we found our passengers, we left Sapzuro with a little nostalgia. For me though, I knew I was going to see them again as they gave me their contact information for Medellin.

Despite leaving Sapzuro with a bit of sadness, we were back at sea and I was getting closer to main land. The first night was rough as nearly every passenger got sick, but on the next day, they got mostly used to the waves and could now enjoy the sea. It took 48 hours to reach Isla Fuerte were we stayed for the day. Two days later, we got to Isla Bernando where three of our passengers started putting pressure on us to reach Cartagena. We kept on telling us sailing depended on the wind and we had no control on it, but they didn’t understood that concept, so to make our job easier, we got to the small town of Beruga and drop them there so they could take a bus to Cartagena; finally peace. In less of a hurry, Monica, a Colombian from Bogota stayed with us for an extra night as we stayed at port. After a night out, we walked along the beach up to the small creek we had cross with our dinghy, but to our surprise, our dinghy was nowhere to be found. At first, we laughed at the situation, no really believing this was happening, but after a few minutes looking around, the laughter changed as we realized this had happened for real. Not willing to give up, I undressed to my underwear and jumped in the muddy and swampy river to swim across. The closer I would get from the other side, the less I believed we would find it again. But, just as I got to the beach, I saw our dinghy hidden behind the bush. What a relief!!!

The next day, we brought Monica back to shore and said goodbye to her, we was a real peach, so we all felt sorry to see her take the bus and leave. As for Julie (another passenger), Thomas and I, we took the opportunity to take a shower, my first in 8 days, and on the next day, we lifted anchor and left.

The first few hours were calm as the wind was barely a breeze, but as the day got by, it picked up in force. The next morning, the wind had doubled; the sea was white and the wind was approaching 35 knots. After a long and rough day at sea, we realized we wouldn’t be able to reach Cartagena, so we changed direction and headed to a bay near Barù. As we were sailing toward the bay, one of the ropes holding the main sail snapped and in the instant swung across the boat. No one was in the way of the sail, but even without injuries the incident was traumatizing.

Yes, this picture is properly leveled

We got stuck in Barù for a full day before we thought the sea had calmed down. Having being a full month without sending an email to my parents, I went to an Internet Café in the small town, but the internet was so slow that I ended up just sending a message to my sister:

Hi Julie,

Tell the parents I’m still alive. Sorry if I haven’t sent any email in a while but despite all my effort, I couldn’t find internet in Capurgana/Sapzuro. I’m heading toward Cartagena and hopefully I’ll find better internet over there.

I had no idea how important that message was up until I got to Cartagena, but my parents were so worried about my lack of news, that they had called the Bogota Embassy. When I learned about this, I definitely felt bad for my parents, but also I realized how bad the embassy was not to find me. I had mentioned I would be in Cartagena/Sapzuro and that I was on a sailboat with a captain named Thomas, and no one took the time to look in those two towns to talk with the few captains hanging there. Looking at my situation and my last email, I do not understand how no one found me.

On our second morning in the small bay, we decided to tackle the sea once more. The wind was low and it seemed perfect for Cartagena, located only seven nautical miles from the bay. But once more, the wind rise in intensity. The sea got whiter and whiter, the waves got bigger and bigger, and we were stuck in this mess with our main sail starting to rip apart in two locations and the front sail doing the same. As the boat was thrown left and right, up and down, we kept on pushing toward Cartagena. The waves braking on the boat and wind kept on throwing water in our face as we kept stirring toward our final destination.

Finally, the entrance of Cartagena’s bay, the end of my sailing expedition, or so I thought. We entered right after a submarine and before two huge cargo ships. Still having a few difficulties with our engine, we had to keep sailing. Zigzagging between those mastodons we climbed the bay. The Sun lower down and disappeared, so did the heat. Wet from all the waves breaking on us, we needed to cover up with winter-like clothing. Julie, tired got to bed, but Thomas and I still had to fight against the wind. Tacking and tacking through the bay, we slowly climb the channel up to the port. Over all, it took us ten hours to make the small 7 nautical miles needed for Cartagena. Once in the port, we lowered the anchor, nearly crashed into a boat, realized the anchor had no grip, lifted the anchor again, and this time, anchor down. There it was; the end of my sailing experience; all that is left is now help Thomas with a few renovations and wait until he finds clients.

PHOTOS