July 31 - 2010

Crossing the border into Panama proves to be the biggest challenge thus far. We arrive at the check out office, on the Costa Rican side at 5 am. Office doesn't open till 6am. A long line of people stand next to the semi's - all waiting for their stamp.
Sky turns from black to blue to white and finally the line is moving.
Following the stamp we all walk in no mans land between the Costa Rican and Panamanian office. Here again we must wait i line. Only one window is open. Pride is taken in slowing the pace. Rumors spread that a return ticket is necessary in order to enter. I have none as I'll be continuing south with unplanned method.
Forced to buy a return bus ticket to Costa Rica I finally get my stamp and am let in. Last step is the baggage check. The whole ordeal ends up taking about 4 hours - but we all make it and none are turned away.
It's Saturday and road to Panama City is dotted with bike riders on race bikes with numbers on their backs. The road is closed and forces a detour through a neighborhood with low hanging power lines. One such line get caught on the bus - a web all gets pulled in the wrong direction and televisions inside homes turn black.
We cross high above the Panama Canal before entering the city and arriving at the fine looking bus terminal. The city in the distance looks more like Miami or Hong Kong then what I was expecting to find.
A taxi drives a group of us all going the same direction - Casco Viejo - the old French quarters.
Han and I check into the same hostel and go for a walk.
"ladies" bent in neon and the "coca cola cafe". It's humid and surprisingly quiet in the streets.

Overall there is a good vibe, very different for the other cities I've passed through the last week.
We have dinner at a cafe showing skateboarding on tv.
My stomach finally feeling better.

July 30th - 2010

I have no particular reason for hanging around San Jose and head to the bus office as soon as they open. Fortunately a bus leaves 11pm tonight and arrives 4pm tomorrow - destination Panama City.
I feel tired from all the sitting and take a short walk around the neighborhood.
The news paper shows the falling bridge.
I sit under the tin roof of the hostel as rain pelts down making it impossible to think. Can't wait to leave the cities and return to the mountains.
My things are packed and I wait to check in at the bus station. Han, a Taiwanese reporter approaches me and we stand around chatting till we board and leave Costa Rica. He's heading to Panama to work for a local paper.

July 29th - 2010

Back at the bus station at 2am to check in. Faces wait in the dark outside waiting for the doors to open. We depart on time.
The rest of the night and all day is a blur.
A businessman sits next to me a one point - chatty. I regret not being more entertaining with my limited Spanish and surely must come across as being uninterested and dull. We discuss the typical topics, easy to understand when not understanding - "ahh, potatoes and chicken - this we have Denmark" "and beans" "ahh...this we have Denmark" smile - nod - "it raining.."
I look out and keep my gaze fixed.
The tv shows movies non stop on these buses. Literally non stop. At this point I've watched Iceage 3, 4 times, The Proposal 3 times and a long list of other film I don't wish to remember. But today I got caught in some spanish dubbed romantic drama. Brought tears to my eyes. Bus makes me sensitive I suppose.
Day became night, and we received news that a bridge had fallen down, forcing all traffic to San Jose, Costa Rica to be rerouted through the mountains, adding an extra 6 hrs to our journey. We arrived 24 hrs after departing.
Joe and I shared a cab to a hostel.

July 28th - 2010

King Quality is the name of the company. They have two classes to choose from - king and quality - I ride quality. The KQ office is on the outskirts of town, guarded by two heavily armed uniforms. They lock the door behind you as soon as you step in.
It seems far fetched that anyone should hit up a bus office but I assume there is a good reason for their presence. Having said that - this is a very nice office. Free coffee and water. Nuns, a woman who looks like hooker, suits, and myself playing the role of the gringo.
We board and its comfortable. My neighbor is the nun.
She doesn't smile very much or take any note of the sharing element of the center bar between the seats.
We arrive in San Salvador after dark. The bus station is nearly empty. Within the same building is a hotel, but rooms are $35 and my connecting bus is at 3 am. I onl need a place to rest a few hrs. I meet Joe - a Peurto Rican also heading to Costa Rica. He's a copy of my friend Will - if only Will was from Peurto Rico and not south of London. Joe asks the guard for a cheaper place and we're pointed in the direction a few blocks away. A rundown place called Bella Lux. You pay $8 and get a free beer - even better the room is connected to the reception, where on this particular night at least 20 people crowd the sofas and corners of the bare room. Raggaton is blasting and while tv shows action. Joes is happy - I'm exhausted.
Our room has eight beds to choose from.

July 27th - 2010

More bus travel. Returning to Guatemala only to catch my connection tomorrow.
Brenda and I were returning together - she heading back to Connecticut and I on to Costa Rica.
10 hrs - one stop for chicken and banjo. Washing my face by the outdoor sink was refreshing.
The landscape melts together - green in green with the dotted volcano's in the distance.
Today I wish more for my destination and less for the journey.
Dinner and sleep in Antigua.

July 26th - 2010

It was a long night.
The rain didn't seize to fall till well past two. The cloud cover never lifted and is has been limited what pictures I could take. My fever has been getting worse during the night, but it seems to help drinking lots of water.
It grew light around five. I saw the first group of tourist enter with headlamps - heading for the sun temple to watch the sun rise. I hid higher in the ruins to avoid getting spotted.
Rested a few more hours till it was safe to make my exit without attracting attention. Apart from the pictures I was hoping to take, my purpose for coming here was to get sound recordings of the howler monkeys. Fortunately they didn't fail to show - and just as I was leaving the park a group began growling.
I returned to Flores and spent the remaining day swimming and accepting the fact that I've been hit with travels stomach. It was unavoidable I suppose, eating everything and anything edible I can find. Only hope the gut returns to normal soon.

July 25th - 2010

We arrived in Flores in the early morning - chilled to the bone - wearing every piece of clothing I could find and a blanket wrapped around my head to act like a hat. Outside the bus, reality was something different.
Flores is in the northern part of the country - the main hub for anyone visiting the jungle or the Mayan ruins of Tikal. Its a tiny village situated on a small island in a large lake. The island is close enough to the mainland to be connected with a bridge. Its warm in the morning and hot by 11.
My plan is to spend a few nights in the national park of Tikal and get some night shots during the full moon. Unfortunately its rain season and I cross my fingers that it will remain clear and dry tonight. I've brought only minimal things with me to attract as little attention as possible when entering the park. As its not officially allowed to stay, not to mention sleep in the park after closing hours, I've brought only what I would need for a regular day trip. Only thing sticking out is my camera equipment, water purification system and an abundance of nuts.
I soon learned that in order to catch my connecting bus to Guatemala and on the Costa Rica I would only be able to spend one night in the park.
Brenda was also going to visit the park - no plans of spending the night there. However tempting it may have seemed, the tarantula, killer snake and damp ground sealed the deal for her and she returned to Flores following a four hour tour we took with a guide.
The park was quiet and empty by seven. I'd had little sleep on the bus and decided to rest a bit before wandering out later at night. I found an old ruin, in the previous "residential" part of Tikal. Rooms dating thousands of years back - still providing shelter. By the time I woke it was raining and the moon dimly lit up the gray sky...

July 24th - 2010

Checked out of my room at nine. Most of the day has been sent in limbo, waiting the minibus to take me to Guatemala city, and the connecting night bus to Flores. Had breakfast at an old bakery, known for their banana bread. Rest of the day evaporated in cyberspace.
Minibus picked me up at 6:30 pm. 3 Belgian boys in button down shirts, an American archaeologist and Brenda from Connecticut and myself. As a tradition the sky opened up as we were leaving Antigua, flooding the roads - a sheet of rain difficult to see through even if we were still.
Finally at the bus station there was still another hour till my connection was leaving.
Fortunately Brenda was on the same bus and time passed quickly in the waiting room.
The ride to Flores is about 8 hrs - a direct nightbus only stopping at a single checkpoint. Its the middle of three different classes to choose from. The most distinguishing feature between this class and the economy is the AC. Having AC in this county is something to take advantage of - this means that the cabin is soon after departure transformed to a what resembles a meat locker, with temperatures just around freezing. Tonights ride has by far been the coldest I've felt in months. A slight fever has been creeping on while writing this.

July 23rd 2010

Crossing the border into Guatemala is a breeze. The bus stops on the mexican side, here everyone must exit and register to get stamped "out" by the authorities. A crowd of merchants sell candy toys and wads of Quetzales - the currency of Guatemala. My passport is stamped out, I exchange my pesos and walk across the bridge into central america. A small offfice on the right accepts 10 Q's and again my passport is stamped "in" - 90 days valid throughout the region except Costa Rica. Back on the Tica bus I look out the window. I actually don't have a window, but a solid wall to my left, but by leaning forward I can sneak a peak from the person sitting in front. Most are asleep. I lisiten to "This American Life" todays episode entitled "Island time" At the Guatemala bus station I hop on a minibus which takes me to Antigua. I ask the driver about the sinkhole I read about reciently - a quiet American man in his 50's sits in the back. I'll spend one night here before heading to Tikal - next station.

July 22nd - 2010

I awake in the early morning - outside the landscape has transformed into a lush scenery of tropical plants, trees and green volcanoes against a patchy horizon. The bus pulls into the Mexican border town of Tapachula around noon. My connection to Guatemala doesn't leave till tomorrow morning so I check into a hotel across from the bus station. Legs are tired from all the sitting - I go for a walk around the block. Clearly the only gringo in sight. Tropical rain begins to fall in the late afternoon, flooding the side streets and blowing sewer covers. Most of the day in spent at a local internet cafe, planing the coming weeks. Have dinner at a local restaurant showing cartoons in Spanish. No one is paying any attention.

July 21st - 2010

Itzel has stayed in Mexico City and helped with translations and getting around. As most everything was taken care of yesterday, we have today to wander and see parts of the city I've yet to explore. We stop by the fedex office to ship the negatives before heading for the famous Angel de la Independencia and Museo Rufino Tamayo where the danish artist Joachim Koster currently is showing. We head to the bus station around 4:30 pm. Subway is packed - again I regret carrying too much - equipment especially. When is the implanted chip and memory card going to be available? I enjoy my last Mexican tortas pastor, say good buy to Itzel and sit back - 17 hrs to Tapachula. Outside its raining - rush hour traffic slows the pace.

July 19 - 20th 2010

Now back in Mexico city. My films have been dropped off at the lab - awaiting to be picked up tomorrow. Expectations are low as I fear results may be jeopardized by the high temperatures and the fact that so much was shot on intuition. In total I only got to take 8 shots. The real results will have to wait as I have no time to have them scanned before I leave for Guatemala on Wednesday. With the fried brain of mine I somehow accomplished to misplace two cables I'd borrowed from the kind photographer, Martin. Despite Mexico City being a metropolis of around 10 million people it has taken most of the day finding the replacements, so I can return the equipment as a whole. My bus for Tapachula leaves tomorrow afternoon.

July 16 - 18th 2010

The Niaca mine lies in the northern state - Chihauhau - a working mine extracting lead, zinc and silver. But the claim to fame is The Cave of Crystals (Cueva de los Cristales). A chamber deep within the mountain where most of the mining takes place. To reach the cave a van takes you into the mountain, through an opening just wide enough to fit - inside a web of tunnels leading to different parts of the inner workings, shoot off in all directions - instantly making any newcomer disoriented and slightly concerned about finding the exit. Its about a 25 minute drive through darkness. Limestone rock, dust and sporadic water splash as we carefully menouver through the tube. I sit in the rear of the van - we are five people in total including the official driving. Loud noises from pumps fill the space and disappear as we drive deeper. How long can this continue? We finally make a sharp right turn and there - at the end of our path as is, what appears to be a metal vault door. The temperature within the van has risen sharply since passing the last pump - but it is nothing compared to the wall of heat and humidity which hits as the engine is turned off and the car doors are opened. The vault door is of a certain magnitude as if keeping something very precious or very dangerous locked away. What awaits inside is a mix of both. The vault door is opened and yet another wave of humidity and heat spill out, clinging to the skin and running off like a fine mist. Walking from the entrance of this new tunnel to the mouth of the crystal cave is no more then 50 meters. Three steps up and you stand surrounded in a surreal world of giant crystals only know by superman or the light and magic of Hollywood. But this isn't the cave of kryptonite or a movie set - but one of the most spectacular geological and mineralogical discoveries ever made. Giant selenite mega crystals, as they are described, shoot from floor to ceiling reaching lengths up to 11 meters. An underground fantasiland - as foreign as visiting any planet I can imagine. But it comes with a price. Within the chamber temperatures reach 50 degrees and humidity is near 90% - this hellish enviroment only makes the experience that much more intense. We are told that we have ten minutes before we have to be out. This is about the maximum allowed time before the body overheats and it becomes too dangerous. I quickly set up my camera, but the humidity and heat makes the lens fog similar to being inside a sauna. If I place the camera close to the floor, the temperature is just low enough to keep the lens clear. With the limited time I must work fast and on intuition as this may be the last time I ever have a chance to visit such a place. The heat soon gets to me. I tell Itzel that I'm about to faint and only have time for one last picture. We make it out of the chamber - exhausted and soaked to the skin. I sit completely drained as we make our way through the intestine of Mt. Niaca, finally spilling into daylight and back to planet earth. What I actually shot is a mystery to me - as is the majority of the experience. Like waking from a very strange dream. We requested to return the following day, but were rejected. But despite only having ten minutes inside it has made the whole journey worth while. Itzel and I spend the following day touring the area around Chihuahua - watching Karate Kid in spanish, before checking into a strange motel and returning to Mexico City the next day. This is hopefully not the last time I see this place. Pics to be uploaded.

July 14 - 15th 2010

Mexico city. I've grown fonder, further and faster then I'd imagined. My lack of language seems to be the main barrier of getting fully in depth, but despite this I find many people understanding my signs, mimicks and baby speech.
The morning began by calling Martin Vargas, a local photographer, to ask for a lab to process film and a facility house where I could rent equipment that I need for the cave shoot on Saturday. To my surprise, Martin is the official photographer who works for the mining company that operates the Niaca cave. His advice was abundent and he offered to lend me the equipment that I was looking for. I was left silent for a moment as this offer seemed too good to be true. A tremendous help. We arranged to meet later that night.
I took the bus to where Itzel has her office. We met a few months ago and have keept in touch as she has helped coordinate and get access to the Giant Crystal Cave. This has been a huge endeavour as the cave has been off limits to the public the last couple of years. The sensitive environment within the cave means that it is slowly deteriorating and will likely be closed completely in the near future.
Our scheduled visit is set for Saturday. We will be traveling north on Friday and spend an extra day in case we get the opportunity to visit a second time.
All practical was taken care of yesterday - meeting with Itzel to plan and Martin to pickup equipment. This left a full day to explore the city. I decided to visit a notorious gallery/private collection - Coleccion Jumex. Little information is found on this space, but from everything I'd read it sounded like the one place to visit if you only have one day in M.C. One thing keept coming up though - it could be quite difficult to find as it was located in an old factory building. But this didn't seem too strange as many galleries I've seen in the past have been in industrial areas. But I was wrong. There is a clear distincion between industrial areas and the industrial areas of Mexico City.
The cab dropped me outside a factory. A fortress of a gate with Jumex written in blue on white background. This could certainly not be the entrance to any collection. It was the entrance to the largest juice producer in latin america. But the guard nodded "yes" when I repeated ¿La collection de Jumex?!... I gave him my pasport and a phone call was made. This misunderstanding would soon be cleared up. But, no - he returned my papers and allowed me to pass, saying that I should continue past the first two building, stay out of the way of trucks and other operating equipment - then I would come to another gate - there I should present my pass again.
I walked in, now on the grounds of the factory. A clear misunderstanding, having gone too far to turn around. I prayed the consequence would be mild.
Again at the second gate I was allowed to pass, being told that I should go through the second door on my right. I was now walking toward the juice warehouse. Pallet trucks came purring by.
Second door on the right: a large glass door without a knob. I rang a bell and it slid open with the sound of hydraulics - zzzzzzz. What came next was one of the biggest surprises I've had the past year. From wall to wall right in from of me hung a huge Gursky piece - perhaps the most famous contemporary photographer - and next to him Jeff Wall, Koons, Orozco...
Some of the most infuential artists in the world, all gathered in this hideaway warehouse on the grounds of a juice factory. Even the guy sitting at the entrance desk wore a Jumex jumpsuit like he just steped out of a processing plant.
As chances of anyone finding this location are slim, so was the audience. I spent hours there viewing the exhibition, "The traveling show", with only two other people present.
It was raining hard when I left - high and inspired.

July 12 - 13th, 2010

My days in El Paso have come to an end. I've said goodbye to new friends and West, who has been so kind to provide shelter for me and my goods.

The bike is packed and ready to be shipped to our mutual destination. Meanwhile I boarded the bus from the Greyhound terminal. Or so I was suppose to, but was delayed and the time for my connection i Juarez grew slim. The tv in the waiting hall shows morning talk shows and soaps. Crossing the boarder was a breeze - perhaps because the steam of tourists who went between El Paso and Juarez in the past, has dried up. Growing violence, due to the war on drugs has put Juarez in the top 5 of most dangourous cities in the world.

And so I missed my bus and sit stranded at the Juarez bus terminal, waiting to leave this city as so many others. Lucky for me, I'm heading south with a european pasport and not the opposite direction without papers.

Frequent busses destined for Mexico City ment that I only had to wait a few hours. Time passed quickly as I sat looking at the crowd and masked militaly men escorting a group of younger men carrying a large flat screen tv onto a bus. Others sweept the floor and to my surprise this place seemed much cleaner then where I had just sat in El Paso.

Likewise, the busses are exceptionally clean and comfortable. Reclining leather seats and tv screens makes it feel more like flying. But speed is the difference. 27 hrs later and the bus makes its final stop at the north terminal of Mexico City.

Fearing the freenzy found in cities like Tangier or Delhi I was relived to walk through the arrivals hall without hassel. A cab took me to a central hostel that I'd booked the prevous day. Prime location next to the sinking cathedral and other attractions.

I've contacted Itzel and made arrangements to meet tomorrow to discuss the shoot later in the week.

June 22nd - July 11th 2010

Peter has returned and I'm now preparing the final details before heading south, crossing into Mexico tomorrow.

The last few weeks have mainly been spent in New Mexico, with a few brief stops through Texas. I had a chance to scan some more negatives and feel confident that I have sufficient material from North America.

It's all very uncertain what I'll get from here-on as it will be the first time I visit the majority of countries I'll be passing though. But one thing which is certain is the giant crystal cave of northern Mexico, which I was granted access to last week, with the help of Itzel Alvarez.

We will be visiting it on the July 17th, and I look forward to posting views from the inside.

Regarding transportation: plans have changes slightly in order to make the deadline of reaching the tip of South America by November. This is crucial if I'm to catch a ride to Antarctica, as all ships depart from November to December. No arrangements have been finalized and I fear that this wont happen till I'm physically there. What this time frame means is that I'll have to skip lightly over certain countries. As I still intend to avoid flying, I've decided to take the bus to Peru and begin riding the bike from there. It will take approximately a month to reach Lima if all goes as planed (not likely).

Updates to follow - Mexico City on the 14th.

cont. June 22nd - July 11th