April 28, 2015
The end of April. I don’t pay much attention to the months or dates anymore. I think I probably should, at least so I can create some kind of mental chronology of this trip. So many things have happened. I met the Open Explorers, for example, in April 2015. I think I’d like to remember that, at the very least. May is coming. It’s my final month here. Just four weeks left, five including this one. Wow. So fast, so very fast.
My daily life in Xela began to fall into a bit of clockwork. As mentioned in earlier blog posts, my disciplined school/study routine dictated my Monday-Friday work week. Work week, how funny to consider my duties to sit around and speak Spanish as work. Nevertheless, I had patched this entire voyage together with the sole purpose to improve my Spanish, so if there was one single objective that I needed to keep in focus it was to keep English off my tongue as much as humanly possible on a daily basis. Some people pick up languages easily, some people struggle and fight an uphill battle for years. I fall into the latter camp. Maybe if I spent less time obsessing about motorbikes I could free up some hard disc space for other things. No, that can’t be it.
I soon found out that my remaining time in Guatemala would turn into a series of glorious weekends that would entail epic rides along the Pan American highway and into the abyss of Guatemala, hikes up vomiting volcanoes and all sorts of other epic adventury things that mortar epic adventures into epic proportions.
The next mini-adventure started with a license plate. Apparently, Stephan had been trying to collect license plates from the various countries he visited along his route. I had mentioned to him that I found a book shop in Xela that sold locally sourced plates (I’m sure they were honestly removed from parked vehicles) and was happy to offer him one one mine, as I had bought the lot of three. My German friends had left Xela for Lago Atitlan some days beforehand when a message popped up on Facebook from Stephan. He was upset that he had forgotten to collect the plate before the gang had left town, and, the lake only being a few hours ride fro Xela, it was thus my duty to deliver said license plate that coming weekend. An epic ride on the Pan American on a weekend camping getaway to visit my friends? What a heavy burden I bore.