El Salvador

A big map of El Salvador at the border. Phew.

A Few Stats

Size: El Salvador is 4 times smaller than Ireland (21,000 km² vs 84,000 km²)

Population: 6.3 million (an additional 3 million live in the USA)
Average Temperature on the coast: 32 degrees
Rate of death from kidney disease: 4th highest in the world (A random statistic, I'll explain later)
Main export market: USA (50% of what El Salvador exports unsurprisingly goes to the US)
Main exports: Textiles, Coffee, Sugar
Human Development Index Ranking: 116 out of 188 countries
Most dangerous country in the world ranking: 8

I fell in love with El Salvador right after riding over the border. I knew nothing at all about the country. I had heard the usual cries of 'It's too dangerous for a solo female cyclist'. But I've heard those cries since arriving into Mexico at the Tijuana border. That was three months ago and since then I've met only lovely people, been offered food and showers and beds in daily random acts of kindness by strangers. So I thought I'd just go for it, cross the border ask for a map and then let the Salvadorians take me through their country. And what a lovely 2 weeks I had.

My 2 weeks in El Salvador were so special because of 3 people. People from El Salvador are called Salvadorians. So I should say because of 3 Salvadorians, Anna, Julio and Jose.

Typical Salvadorian breakfast. Beans with cream, fried bananas
and of course tortillas.

Meeting Anna
My first night in El Salvador was one of those total gems. I crossed the border in the early afternoon so was only a few kilometres into the country when at 4pm ish I started looking for somewhere to pitch the tent. The main coastal road was busy so I had my eyes peeled for somewhere a few hundred metres back. I noticed that a street stall selling watermelons seemed to have a farm behind it. Bobs-your-uncle I thought. Just to put you in the picture it was over 30 degrees every day. I'm saying this right from the start because it impacts everything. When you get up, how far you ride, what you eat, where you sleep, how you sleep, how much water you need to drink, how often you stop to look for shade, your mood.

Sweeny Green's first night in El Salvador. In a lane behind Anna's house.

Anna has been selling watermelons on the roadside for years. The round pale
watermelons are imported from Guatemala. The long dark green ones are local.
Both are delicious.

Anna ran a watermelon stand at the side of the road. I asked if I could pitch my tent behind her house and she said no problem, that I would be safe. Within 5 minutes of pitching the tent another neighbour offered me a bed. I said I was fine, but thanks. 5 minutes later another neighbour knocked on my tent asking if I wanted a shower. Of course I said yes to that. 

It was an outdoor shower. The neighbour asked her son to haul me up a big bucket of the coldest water and I relished every drop I poured over my head with an old mayonnaise tub. I pulled the piece of plywood that's lying against the well in the photo below, across as a door. Anna was none too please with me going to the neighbour's house for a shower. Anna said that unlike her neighbour she had a shower INSIDE her house and if I wanted a shower before I left the following morning I should use HER shower. She was very keen to show me her INSIDE house shower. Hilarious.

Anna's neighbour offered me a cold shower (little white walls behind) with water
hauled up from the well by her son. A bucket and a bar of soap. Glorious.

Anna had sold watermelons for years. But now that her husband was on kidney dialysis and couldn't work she had to be creative so she opened a little restaurant beside her watermelons. She and 3 girls from the village worked from 7am-7pm 7 days per week. It was doing a flying business. I mention the kidney dialysis just because in the 2 weeks I spent in El Salvador I met 3 families who had members on dialysis. I thought that a little strange. At home I have one friend who has had a kidney transplant, I know no one personally who is on dialysis. Locals here said it's due to the pesticides sprayed by aeroplane on the corn and sugar crops. Hence my quest to see where El Salvador lies in the 'rate of kidney disease' world ranking.

Anna's 4 month old restaurant.

I ordered grilled shrimp with garlic for dinner. Normally I never buy any food in restaurants but street food from a roadside cafe is fine. I usually ask in advance what the price is as I want to be sure I'm not being ripped off as a gringo (white American tourist), but this time it didn't seem appropriate. I was happy to pay whatever she charged as she was giving me somewhere safe to sleep. As I eat the most delicious plate full of scrummy shrimp, salad and rice I told Anna she belongs in a Michelin star restaurant in London and not a roadside stall in El Salvador. She laughed, we laughed and she told many of her customers who came to her stand for the rest of the night what I had said. 

Anna's husband had had a leg amputated a few years ago because of a traffic accident. Recently he has developed kidney disease and requires dialysis twice per week. It costs 125 usd per 4 hour session. His family and her family take it in turns every week to drive him 2 hours to the hospital. Everyone chips in to pay. She works 7 days a week to pay the medical bills, she hardly sat down for the 24 hours I was there. 

Another lovely moment after dinner was when Chris de Burg's 'Lady in Red' came on the radio. Anna started to sing along not knowing what any of the words meant. I did a little quick simultaneous translation as I sang and again we both laughed. She was a great character, fully of life and energy and get up and go, such a lovely welcome to a new country.

Anna and her husband resting in their hammocks on the roadside.

Meeting Julio

Julio showing me his Salvadorian flag on his bicycle top.

Meeting Julio couldn't have been more different. There I was merrily cycling along the road a couple of days later, probably feeling a bit grumpy in the heat and with sweat dripping down my back and into my eyes, when a pick up truck pulled in in front of me. Julio is a member of a cycling club from Santa Tecla. He and his team mates (4 guys in lycra pilled into the back of the pick up with their bikes) were on their way home after a mountain bike race. Julio invited me to join them in a bar a few miles down the road for a beer. And so off I went.

The family dog King thought that me doing yoga on my pink mat was a game.

Julio and his wife kindly invited me to stay with them in San Salvador, El Salvador's capital. It wasn't on my route but sure I wasn't in any hurry so thought I'd take them up on the offer. I would climb from sea level to about 1200m. So I knew it would be cooler. Sapo, one of the team members was a bike mechanic and offered to service and clean my bike for me. And they all invited me out on their weekly Thursday night city bike ride with their club, CTU.

Sapo is a kind and gentle soul. He spent 4 hours working on my bike.
He changed all my cables, gave me some new bearings (I'm not quite sure where).
It shone when I picked it up.

Me giving a short presentation about my trip to the mountain bikers before
the night ride.

The CTU Thursday night city bike ride. About 80 people showed up. El Salvador del Mundo
is the national monument equivalent to our Spire I guess, but much more loved.

Cycling around San Salvador on a Thursday evening as you do. That's me in the middle.

Along with the Thursday night bike ride, the comfy bed, ESPN3 to watch Ireland beat France, the 3 yummy meals per day cooked by Blanca the lovely maid and the day trip to see the local volcanos; Julio's invite also extended to taking part in my first ever mountain bike ride that Sunday morning. To avoid the heat Salvadorians get up at crazy o'clock in the morning so at 5am I was up and dressed and heading for the hills. 

About to set off for my first mountain bike ride with CTU, Santa
Tecla bike club.

Julio's wife Maria Eugenia a keen mountain biker, stayed with me towards the back of the pack for the whole ride as I was a bit nervous on the stoney sandy mountain dirt roads. Sapo (the bike mechanic) had arranged for me to have a mountain bike from his shop. He also presented me with my first ever cycling jersey with pockets at the back and a flag of El Salvador on the sleeve. It was the first time really that I had ridden a bike with knobbly 2 inch tyres. I couldn't believe how un-slippy it was on the dirt. And although I had to work really hard and was pretty knackered at the end. I quite enjoyed my new adventure. You can whizz so fast on a light bike with no luggage!

That's me riding over a bridge over a river. It's about 7am and
I'm somewhere in the middle of the Salvadorian mountains.

Me and Julio's wife, Maria Eugenia enjoying the dirt road.

Meeting Jose

Jose is almost the one and only Warm Showers host in El Salvador so everyone ends up staying with him whether they are traveling south to Nicaragua or north to Guatemala. So it's just as well he owns the largest house in the whole of the country. It may be a construction site but it fitted his whole extended family plus 5 hungry dirty cyclists just fine.

I came for 1 night and stayed for 3.

And then we were 5 cyclists. 

The morning after I arrived, Jose asked if I wanted to join him on a shopping trip to San Miguel. Jose had lived in Montreal, Canada for 20 years working as a cleaner. But he always wanted to come home. So here he is, married to Marie with 2 young children and the owner of 2 shops. He lives like a king, by local standards. 

Every 2nd day he drives his truck into San Miguel, the 2nd largest city in El Salvador and goes shopping. I'm googling 'weather San Miguel El Savador' as I type just to put this shopping trip in context and today it's a balmy 37 degrees at 13.00. We must have gone to at least 50 different shops, each one because it sold cheaper toothpaste or flip flops, washing detergent or talcum powder than its neighbour.

His two shops are located in very rural areas so stock a little bit of absolutely everything. We left home at 6am and 14 hours later returned having delivered a tuck load of 'stuff' to his 2 shops, we arrived home exhausted. I hadn't worked so hard in a long time. 

I also have to confess that I only managed about 3 shops at a time before having to duck into the air conditioned Pollo Campestre (the local equivalent of McDonalds). It was just so so hot. Julio would leave me there for about 20 minutes and then collect me again, to continue shopping. We bought beans, potatoes, tomatoes, vegetable oil, toilet paper, washing detergent, oh and some sombreros. At home the likes of Julio would just head to Musgraves and load up a few trolleys. Not in El Salvador.

Jose examines the spuds. He buys 2 * 50kgs bags.

We buy 2 crates of tomatoes.

Jose hires a man with a van for 1 usd, to carry all the veg back to our parked truck.

Some delights along the road in El Salvador

A lady sells glasses of coke and fanta from a big bottle. Way cheaper than buying a can.

A little girl sells green birds. 15 usd each.

Grilled tamales are delicious and super cheap.
Potato and corn inside a banana leaf.

I love this clever use of pallets. Note the round pale watermelons are from
Guatemala, those long green stripy ones are local.

This lovely lady takes a coconut out of the ice box at her roadside stall.
I drink the water and then she chops up the flesh inside for me too.

Denis O'Brien flying the Irish flag all over Central America. This is honey.

Cycling between petrol stations from one fire station to the next

El Salvador is so hot that you really have to laugh at the situation most of the time. I greet every single person by saying 'que calor'. No one else seems to even notice. On the days I didn't stay with Anna, Julio or Jose I found myself cycling between petrol stations and staying at the multiple fire stations I found on my route. Whether the petrol stations were 2kms or 20kms apart it didn't matter. I was so hot and sweaty and sticky and dirty and going crazy with the heat that I left my bike outside and dashed in to the air con. I bought whatever was the cheapest drink in the shop and sat, often for a couple of hours, reading. Luckily every shop in El Salvador has armed security at the door. Very for looking after my bike.

Reading John Boyne in the air conditioned petrol stations.

While reading I would stick my water bottles in the fridge.
Otherwise you'd be drinking hot water.

The bomberos at Zacalucateca

Breakfast was included in this 5 star hotel.

Monday evening in Zacalucatecas is inline stake night in the
central plaza. About 50 kids were milling around a course having a blast.

Passed the 7,000km mark in El Salvador

Southern Guatemala

Guatemalan kids in traditional dress. A photo of a photo.

The Washing Women

Women gather at the outdoor public washrooms to hand wash clothes on the washboards.

I know it might seem strange to say that one of the highlights of Southern Guatemala was the washing women, but it left such an impression on me that I thought it was a good place to start. Villages we passed each had a central outdoor washing reservoir. Women gathered in the mornings to hand wash huge piles of dirty clothes. We learned later that poor women earn a living by washing clothes of richer families.

A social gathering every morning.

Many women had little bundles of babies tied to their backs in blankets. Toddlers were put to sit on empty washboards and given empty packets of washing detergent to play with. As in so many developing countries children sit quietly and amuse themselves with the simplest of toys.

I suppose the reason why I felt captivated by this simple daily activity (I could have stood and observed for hours) was a combination of things. The camaraderie. The ferocity of the scrubbing. The multi-tasking, breastfeeding babies while chatting while scrubbing. The daily grind. The fact that washing clothes is solely a woman's job in Guatemala.

Women chatted happily to their neighbours as the scrubbed with brushes. I wanted to ask if each lady had their own washboard which they came back to every day so they could be beside their friends and catch up on the gossip. But of course I couldn't ask. I felt I was intruding a little, so I tried to take a few bad photos standing far enough back that I wasn't seen. 

Hauling bikes onto the back of a truck - no problemo.

On our last day cycling into Antigua having struggled up two 5km climbs we knew we wouldn't make it Patzun, the next town, by nightfall. It was at the top of a 3rd 5km climb. While Rosalinde was flying up the hills with her 13kg bike and 15kgs of luggage (I made her carry all the food), I was slow as a snail on my 16.5kg bike carrying about 20kgs of luggage.

There was no other choice but to stick out our thumb and try and hitch a life. Within five milliseconds a knight in shining armour appeared around the corner and within another five milliseconds had two bikes and six pannier bags secured to a tree in the back of his truck. He drove like a maniac up and down some of the steepest gradients I have ever seen in a truck held together by twine it seemed, but we sat up front thrilled to bits.

Front right wing mirror is hanging on literally by a thread.

Wonderful Guatemalan night life. We wandered and shared all sorts of
street food from lots of different stalls. 

Antigua

The pair of us arrived into Antigua the night before Rosalinde was due to fly home. We booked ourselves into our one and only hotel room of the trip for a bargained-down rate of 20usd. It was bliss. We wandered through the cobble stoned streets and artisan markets gorging on Antigua's famous sweet breads.

Inside a chicken bus in Guatemala. Never a dull moment.

Beautiful old ruins all over the city of Antigua.

Low rise housing and no gaudy street signs. Even McDonalds looks like a classy joint.

Three volcanos surround Antigua.

Antigua vieja. A suburb.

Hitting the road again
After Rosalinde left I didn't know quite where to turn. Suddenly there I was in southern Guatemala without a plan. Noone else was coming to visit so I didn't have to be anywhere at any time and I must say I felt a little lost. I almost felt that I was too far into the trip to early. But that doesn't make sense either as this trip has neither plan nor schedule. Suddenly this winging it business, mentality made me feel a little unsure of my next step.

The original plan was to ride from Vancouver to the Panama Canal and then perhaps head back to Europe once the money had run out. That was, of course, unless I came across some irresistible opportunity en route which I just couldn't turn down. But I still had more than 1000 euros in the bank account which I knew would last me 3-4 months with only a few little countries to pedal through. A mere 2000kms left. If I put my head down I knew I could be in Panama in 8 weeks.

I thought about taking a couple of overnight buses back into the heart of Mexico. I had skipped such a large chunk of the country by flying to Cancun and somehow I just didn't feel finished with Mexico. But getting a bus backwards felt wrong also. Mexico is such a bicycle touring paradise that I also knew I'd be back. Maybe for a Mexico only bike tour. It's such a great country. So diverse, so poor, so interesting, so cheap, so colourful, so full of weird and wonderful festivals and customs, so full of kind happy helpful people wishing you well on your way at every moment. I thought I'd use some mindfulness tools from the Californian Buddhist monastery and just be happy exactly where I was.

After a couple of weeks with this dilemma swishing around in my brain I have actually worked out why I feel so unsettled. Now it may sound weird but actually if you want to ride from Vancouver to Panama you need to first ride down the west coast of the US, N->S, then down the 2000km of Baja California N->S but you then need to ride 3000kms across the Mexican mainland W->E and then kind of NW->SE through Central America. In my head I was just going from N->S on this whole trip but because the world is round it doesn't work like that. On a poster of the world South America sits neatly under Central America which sits neatly under North America. But on a round globe Colombia actually sits under New York. It may sound like total rubbish but actually once I figured this out I felt a little more settled.

Story of a Guatemalan family

The kindest souls, Hilda and Antonio who gave me a bed and air con for a night.

So I rode S to the Pacific Coast from Antigua, a delightful four hours of downhill. Arriving in the village of Laguna El Comendador at 4.30pm started as any normal evening on the road. I had spotted a church on the banks of the laguna so I headed to the village shop in search of the person who might have the key. Antonio, above, was in charge of the church key but instead of giving me the key he offered me a bed. After a long cold shower a plate containing one entire fried fish was placed in front of me. Antonio had caught it that day in the laguna and Hilda seemed only too delighted to have someone to cook it for.

After dinner we sat in the living room, watched a Guatemalan soap opera together and chatted. Hilda was the only one to sit on the sofa, I was sitting ON the air conditioner and Antonio was rocking in his hammock in the middle of the living room. It's so lovely to get a window into family life in Guatemala in such a way.

The couple left this village in the early 80's. They left behind two children aged 7 and 4 with granny. They headed for California in search of work. It was easier to get into the US in those days they said. Antonio is a carpenter and worked in construction, Hilda is a nurse so found it easy to get work. She told me that the hourly wage of 22usd for working in a nursing home was a small fortune. At night she also worked in a doughnut bakery. She told me she makes a mean doughnut.

I'm sure it's such a typical Guatemalan story. After eight years and recognised as American citizens they came back to collect their two children. Their now three grown up children all live in the US, are married to Guatemalans they met there and have between them 4 children. Hilda and Antonio decided five years ago to move home. They had no medical insurance and couldn't take the risk of getting sick in the US. Their three kids each phone home every day.

Hilda showed me a huge box that she recently received from one of her kids. Among other things it contained a microwave oven and zip lock bags of various sizes. Hilda sends her kids packages of food and always includes local honey in the package. She can send it in such as way that her kids pay for the freight on receipt of the package. Their kids send home money via Western Union. They are not wealthy but have enough and with 3 bathrooms I'm sure have the nicest house in the village - US style. They are comforted by the fact that if they get sick they can afford to go to the doctor.

And yet they sit at home most evenings, they don't go to village parties or gatherings in case there are shootings. They live in a house with no glass in the windows but with iron bars. CCTV cameras surround the house which is also supervised by a mean looking pit bull dog. They felt safer in the US but they can afford medical bills here. It sure is a crazy world we live in. Hilda cried as I left the following morning. I think I reminded her of one of her children and she couldn't bare the thought of me cycling alone through Central America. She gave me a little wooden cross and insisted I wear it around my neck at all times. It's meeting and spending time with kind generous people such as Hilda and Antonio that makes touring by bike so special.

Sherpa getting on a 'lancha' to cross the canal.

Unbelievably the Guatemalan government is encouraging
Guatemalan girls to eat ice cream. 

This truck was stranded in the middle of the road.
The day before a branch of a tree had fallen and literally cut it in half.

Beautiful sunrises along the Guatemalan coastline.