We turned off the Pan American Highway. The road became progressively undeveloped with a new roadbed being put in which means red clay for the most part.
We arrived and I parked the car on a slope just in case I needed to jump the thing after the weekend. We started the long walk into the depths of the coastal jungle. They took me to the river first and showed me their method of fishing. The trees were huge and a welcome relief from the blazing hot and muggy weather. It started to rain a little bit so we made our way to the homestead.
It started to really get wet after arriving at the farm. The rain fell in a biblical deluge. These tormentas move in from the ocean and stay in place for hours unloading their water. There was nothing left to do. I put up my hammock curled up and let the storm blow itself out. By morning it was over. It had flooded the land and was scarcely draining off in huge flows. We went to have a look at the damage it caused. The aftermath was truly startling.
I gave a little folding knife to the dad who broke out the biggest grin I've ever seen. If you truly want to do something for an indigenous family give them a tool they can use. I've handed out mosquito bars and food. The tools help a man take care of his family better than anything.
I gave a little folding knife to the dad who broke out the biggest grin I've ever seen. If you truly want to do something for an indigenous family give them a tool they can use. I've handed out mosquito bars and food. The tools help a man take care of his family better than anything.
I arrived at the car. The SAAB weathered the storm well. The road was a mess but I had to get going now as the crunch was on for my visa. I gunned the beast. The wheels were throwing huge clods of red mud, I was making progress but the Pan American highway was at least five miles away through this muck and mire. Once you start in a situation like this just don't stop. Sometimes I was sliding sideways. Moving forward was all I had to worry about now. I arrived at the edge of a great body of water covering the roadbed. I had no choice but to get the speed up and run as close to the edge of this bog as possible. It was worse than I thought. I valiantly steered the 9-5 for almost half the length of the bog whereupon she came to a steaming, hulking halt. I was short about 100 feet from solid road bed. There was nothing to do but make friends which is easy in the back country.
I waited most of the morning. A four wheeled Toyota truck showed up. After seeing my distressed vehicle he backed his high wheeled rig into the bog so I could hook up. I had to do this totally submerged in the red murky mud while feeling for the tow hooks. It was not that bad the truth be told. He was grinning when my car arrived on higher ground. It started to drain bright red water. I guess he felt bad because he was the grader operator that was making the road so impassable. I was glad to be on my way. The car looked terrible covered in thick red cakey mud
There is a river further on down the road with an access road under the bridge. I drove the car right into the shallow river to give her a real cleaning. The river turned a bright red as the mud sloughed off in sheets. I soon was feeling better about the whole escapade after surviving a terrible storm that unleashed so much rain. The rivers were now swollen and swirling. I settled down for the long drive back to Costa Rica staying in the cheapest places I could find along the Pan-American highway.
Arriving at the border one is always greeted by people who want to help you...for a price. Sergio was paid by the government to help travelers. This was my third crossing. He recognized me instantly since most of the faces are just passing through this reality only once. It is super hot. Everyone is looking for some advantage. Get in line and wait for your turn is the only way forward.
Every border crossing is the same. You must present 3 or 4 copies of every travel document including every visa from every page in your passport. The car is treated like a tourist needing triplicate paperwork, insurance and the like to get the necessary exit visa for the next crossing. Then comes the interview which is an air conditioned room. You need this after running around for hours in the stifling heat. It is the warmest air conditioning you will ever feel. Once this is done you are free to go except for one last minute request to take a rider. You can't refuse. Your visa will be examined again if you refuse. The consequences are painful enough to make you reconsider. Besides, it is a border guard going home to his family for the weekend. As long as he doesn't ask for anything it should be fine. You meet the strangest people on the road.
As I pulled out onto the Pan American highway there was another roadblock with military men. I was grilled for the third time that day with the usual questions about where are you coming from and what you are doing in the area. I was glad to have the border guard in the car. He confirmed my legitimacy.
I waited most of the morning. A four wheeled Toyota truck showed up. After seeing my distressed vehicle he backed his high wheeled rig into the bog so I could hook up. I had to do this totally submerged in the red murky mud while feeling for the tow hooks. It was not that bad the truth be told. He was grinning when my car arrived on higher ground. It started to drain bright red water. I guess he felt bad because he was the grader operator that was making the road so impassable. I was glad to be on my way. The car looked terrible covered in thick red cakey mud
There is a river further on down the road with an access road under the bridge. I drove the car right into the shallow river to give her a real cleaning. The river turned a bright red as the mud sloughed off in sheets. I soon was feeling better about the whole escapade after surviving a terrible storm that unleashed so much rain. The rivers were now swollen and swirling. I settled down for the long drive back to Costa Rica staying in the cheapest places I could find along the Pan-American highway.
Arriving at the border one is always greeted by people who want to help you...for a price. Sergio was paid by the government to help travelers. This was my third crossing. He recognized me instantly since most of the faces are just passing through this reality only once. It is super hot. Everyone is looking for some advantage. Get in line and wait for your turn is the only way forward.
Every border crossing is the same. You must present 3 or 4 copies of every travel document including every visa from every page in your passport. The car is treated like a tourist needing triplicate paperwork, insurance and the like to get the necessary exit visa for the next crossing. Then comes the interview which is an air conditioned room. You need this after running around for hours in the stifling heat. It is the warmest air conditioning you will ever feel. Once this is done you are free to go except for one last minute request to take a rider. You can't refuse. Your visa will be examined again if you refuse. The consequences are painful enough to make you reconsider. Besides, it is a border guard going home to his family for the weekend. As long as he doesn't ask for anything it should be fine. You meet the strangest people on the road.
As I pulled out onto the Pan American highway there was another roadblock with military men. I was grilled for the third time that day with the usual questions about where are you coming from and what you are doing in the area. I was glad to have the border guard in the car. He confirmed my legitimacy.
This officer looked just like the colonel in 'Traffic'. As I told him about the rampant smuggling going on in Portobelo he turned to his soldiers and said 'rato' which can mean many things but in this case, it meant informer or Rat. I never lied about this. I am an informer. I had no more problems until Guatemala.
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