First off, even though we didn’t have our motorcycles, yes, we’d do this trip again just with our day-packs. Sans the motorcycle helmets and some gear. Kathleen and I discovered how vary little we actually needed for 9-weeks in SoAm. If we weren’t carrying our helmets, bike-to-bike communications system, GPS systems, and a 4-pound folder full of motorcycle ownership paperwork, we would have been traveling way light.
We each only had a couple shirts, undergarments, and pants. We also had sandals and shoes with socks. Kathleen had some thermals and a light jacket. I had my rain parka. That was all. A few books, a small laptop, and some toiletries rounded out our load. We’ll travel with the same cargo in future trips to South America.
Regarding our bikes. Kawasaki KLR650’s. Well, they are still in the cargo boxes made to haul them to Bogota, Colombia. We recently moved out of Southern California and just kept the machines in the crates for safer shipping.
What would we do differently? We would ship the bikes out of the U.S. by boat rather than by air. If, . . .if we were to ship by air, we’d go into Canada or Mexico and ship from and back into either of those countries.
Since being back in the U.S., people have asked Kathleen and I why we didn’t buy or rent motorcycles in South America to complete our motorcycle trip. You can go to any motorcycle adventure touring web/blog site to read the running debates on renting or buying motorcycles in SoAm. We questioned people in both Colombia and Ecuador about renting or buying motorcycles. Finding places to rent motorbikes is not easy because not too many of those establishments exist, . . . yet.
Buying motorcycles in South America would be feasible. China is hitting the SoAm market with ‘throw-a-way’ motorcycles which look nice, however, South Americans are finding they get about 5,000 miles out of them before things go catastrophically wrong, requiring nearly the cost of a new bike to fix. SoAm bikes cost roughly $3,000 or less, but, the biggest you’ll find will have a 250cc engine. Furthermore, riding the bike across borders would be an added challenge. Both Colombians and Ecuadorans lamented neither country likes having the others’ purchases passing through. This can provide added hassles at borders along the way. Finally, once the trip is over, what to do with the bike? This was a biggy. In the case of Kathleen and I – bikes. Below are some considerations. All take some time – and remember: Kathleen and I only had 9-weeks.
The first, and simplest, is just walk away from the bikes. Chalk them up to the cost of the trip. Ride them to the airport and leave the keys in the ignition. Both Kathleen and I had a huge problem with this idea for a multitude of reasons.
The second, is sell the bikes when we’re through. People told us we’d be better off selling the bikes by returning the vehicles to the country where they were purchased.
In many SoAm countries, you cannot sell a vehicle purchased from another Latin American country. Legally, you can only sell the motorbike in the country of purchase.
Okay, third. Take the bikes home with us. Again, time would be a problem with exiting a SoAm country with such a purchase, as we don’t know what kind of tariffs and subsequent hassles would be laying in wait for us in the U.S.
All these options can be explored more in-depth, however, the simple matter is, the trip would be so much better on our very own motorcycles that we’ve been riding in the States for assorted adventures. We had been toiling away for hours preparing the machines for the trip; which was all part of the adventure! Furthermore, any motorbike purchased in a foreign country would have to be modified to haul all your stuff. Not a problem if you’ve only got day-packs. A problem if you’ve brought a bunch of camping gear. Remember too, that 250cc engine. So, we’ll be doin’ the BYOM (Bring Your Own Motorcycle) the next time we ride South America.
Final note about South America.
Go! You don’t need to sign-up for a tour. Get on-line, buy an airfare, take a taxi, ride a bus, and end up in some little town where you’ll sit on the plaza watching the going’s on wondering why the hell ya haven’t done this sooner.
Barrowing a phrase for a tourism poster in Colombia. “The only risk is not wanting to leave.”
Go!
Giddy up
Kathleen and Don
Thursday, February 25, 2010
January 25 – We’ve got birds here
Our last night in South America was quiet. Kathleen and I had our room in Hotel Sebastian, Quito until 2pm check-out time. I worked on the blog while Kathleen re-organized our belongings for the flights back to the U.S. We would fly out of Quito to Panama City, and then on to Los Angeles.
Around noon, Kathleen and I went to a restaurant for our last meal in South America. As we ate we looked outside and saw a couple with their backpacks walking down the sidewalk hand-in-hand. They were looking about with faces of awe. They were just starting out. Good for them!
By 1:30pm we were checking out. We were only charged $104 for our palatial suite! Actually, the room was $75; the taxes jacked the price to $104.
In the air terminal we had little effort with security and noticed the waiting area was full of English-speakers heading home as we were. We boarded our first leg of the trip and backed out of the gate spot on time.
Our flight into Panama City was ordinary. Fortunately, we exited the plane at one gate and only had to walk across the waiting area to our next gate. However, here was where Kathleen and I knew we were bound for the U.S. We had our bags searched and received a pat-down frisking.
Panama City to Los Angeles was another uneventful flight. We arrived in LAX where the Customs officer asked why we were in South America. “To look at birds”. “We’ve got birds here” was his reply. To that, Kathleen and I almost responded harmoniously, “Not like anything down there”. The grandfatherly gentleman smiled and nodded in agreement as he handed back out passports.
We stepped outside the LAX terminal and noticed the stark difference in temperature. Only 10-hours earlier we had been experiencing equatorial temperatures in the 80’s. Now, at 12:30am on January 26th, we in the lower 50’s waiting for a shuttle to Kathleen’s mothers’ house. Our trip was over.
Around noon, Kathleen and I went to a restaurant for our last meal in South America. As we ate we looked outside and saw a couple with their backpacks walking down the sidewalk hand-in-hand. They were looking about with faces of awe. They were just starting out. Good for them!
By 1:30pm we were checking out. We were only charged $104 for our palatial suite! Actually, the room was $75; the taxes jacked the price to $104.
In the air terminal we had little effort with security and noticed the waiting area was full of English-speakers heading home as we were. We boarded our first leg of the trip and backed out of the gate spot on time.
Our flight into Panama City was ordinary. Fortunately, we exited the plane at one gate and only had to walk across the waiting area to our next gate. However, here was where Kathleen and I knew we were bound for the U.S. We had our bags searched and received a pat-down frisking.
Panama City to Los Angeles was another uneventful flight. We arrived in LAX where the Customs officer asked why we were in South America. “To look at birds”. “We’ve got birds here” was his reply. To that, Kathleen and I almost responded harmoniously, “Not like anything down there”. The grandfatherly gentleman smiled and nodded in agreement as he handed back out passports.
We stepped outside the LAX terminal and noticed the stark difference in temperature. Only 10-hours earlier we had been experiencing equatorial temperatures in the 80’s. Now, at 12:30am on January 26th, we in the lower 50’s waiting for a shuttle to Kathleen’s mothers’ house. Our trip was over.
January 24 – Not a suspicious person
Kathleen and I can definitely recommend Hotel España, Puerto Ayora, Galapagos. Decently priced ($30/night) with air-conditioning that drowned-out what little noise occurred. The television had 3 channels in English.
We were told that we had to take a taxi to the main terminal outside Puerto Ayora to catch a bus to the airport – okay, the ferry to Isla Baltra which supports the airport. By 6:30am we were waving down a taxi to take us to the airport. We arrived at the bus terminal in minutes and $2 poorer.
In the bus terminal we fell-in behind the line of folks purchasing their tickets for the bus idling outside. What are the odds? Just as we got to the window, a man standing behind the women taking the money, said the bus was now full. Immediately, the man said we needed to take a taxi to the ferry crossing. I’m not a suspicious person, however, I did note that the people previous to us in the line were all locals. Kathleen asked the man, in Spanish, when the next bus would arrive. He said in 20-minutes, but we should take a car; meaning taxi. Kathleen asked the question differently. Can we take a bus to the ferry crossing. Yes, replies the man. When is that bus? “In 20-minutes . . . you take car” (in Spanish).
Kathleen and I got wary. A bus, for 80-cents/person, is to arrive in 20-minutes, yet we’re to take a taxi for $3-$4. Kathleen and I went outside to wait for the next bus. As time passed more people arrived. Gringos at that. They got the same response from the man: Bus will be here in 20-minutes, so you need to take a car. He would never say taxi. Be wary of the man in the brown shirt and white pants in the photo below.
The woman who had been behind the window appears. Two young ladies arrive from town via bus. Hey, wait, Kathleen and I were told to take a taxi. The two young blue-eye blonds walk up to the man as did everyone else. In Spanish, they asked the man about the next bus and got the standard line about the bus is coming, but take car. Then, they asked the woman who had been behind the glass earlier. Kathleen over heard her say the bus will arrive soon; Don’t take the taxi. Ah-ha!! Turns out she was the person who would collect the fare from people on the bus.
As we waited for the bus to arrive, the two blond-haired ladies told us they were Argentineans. For the bus and ferry ride, Kathleen and I chatted with these ladies who spoke nearly accent-less English. Turns out, two different buses leave from Puerto Ayora. One goes direct to the ferry crossing, another goes to the bus terminal. They missed the one to the ferry, so they caught the one to the terminal. Additionally, not looking like typical South Americans, both ladies confided they too often receive different information than that provided to locals. Frequently, this information meant they would pay more for something. As did Kathleen and I, the ladies suspected the man at the bus terminal was looking out for his taxi driving buddies.
After the ferry ride and a short bus trip, Kathleen and I arrived at the airport and joined the line trailing from the TAME (Línea Aérea del Ecuador) counter. I know, the acronym doesn’t match. Go to Ecuador to find out why. We’ll have to go back to determine why ourselves.
Our flight was to leave at 10:30am. The time was 8:40am. Should have plenty of time.
People. As with any country on Earth. Someone in the queue ahead of you has got to have some issue. Sure enough, a young man, his frizzy-haired wife, and their multiple children had some kind of problem. And of course, only one person was checking people in. Sigh.
Kathleen and I stood with other the other people in line for over an hour before the young man and his group finally departed from the counter – the line seemed to move steadily now. While waiting, Kathleen and I were sticking close to the people ahead of us because as people behind us got antsy, the cutzies began. If I were any closer to the woman ahead of me we would have shared the same pants.
Our flight to Quito was full. Kathleen and I were seated apart from each other, however, the flight was only an hour and forty minutes. We arrived in Quito and went to the Hotel Sebastian to check-in and retrieve our motorcycle helmets and other items we had the hotel store.
Again, we scored a suite!! Great, as our flight to Los Angeles was not until 4pm the following day. Kathleen and I went out for a walk about Quito and to find some dinner. We again instantly noticed the lack of hustle and bustle as the holiday season had passed and the city was far less hectic.
We returned to our room to enjoy our accommodations for the evening. Here Kathleen is Skipe-ing back to the States.
We were told that we had to take a taxi to the main terminal outside Puerto Ayora to catch a bus to the airport – okay, the ferry to Isla Baltra which supports the airport. By 6:30am we were waving down a taxi to take us to the airport. We arrived at the bus terminal in minutes and $2 poorer.
In the bus terminal we fell-in behind the line of folks purchasing their tickets for the bus idling outside. What are the odds? Just as we got to the window, a man standing behind the women taking the money, said the bus was now full. Immediately, the man said we needed to take a taxi to the ferry crossing. I’m not a suspicious person, however, I did note that the people previous to us in the line were all locals. Kathleen asked the man, in Spanish, when the next bus would arrive. He said in 20-minutes, but we should take a car; meaning taxi. Kathleen asked the question differently. Can we take a bus to the ferry crossing. Yes, replies the man. When is that bus? “In 20-minutes . . . you take car” (in Spanish).
Kathleen and I got wary. A bus, for 80-cents/person, is to arrive in 20-minutes, yet we’re to take a taxi for $3-$4. Kathleen and I went outside to wait for the next bus. As time passed more people arrived. Gringos at that. They got the same response from the man: Bus will be here in 20-minutes, so you need to take a car. He would never say taxi. Be wary of the man in the brown shirt and white pants in the photo below.
The woman who had been behind the window appears. Two young ladies arrive from town via bus. Hey, wait, Kathleen and I were told to take a taxi. The two young blue-eye blonds walk up to the man as did everyone else. In Spanish, they asked the man about the next bus and got the standard line about the bus is coming, but take car. Then, they asked the woman who had been behind the glass earlier. Kathleen over heard her say the bus will arrive soon; Don’t take the taxi. Ah-ha!! Turns out she was the person who would collect the fare from people on the bus.As we waited for the bus to arrive, the two blond-haired ladies told us they were Argentineans. For the bus and ferry ride, Kathleen and I chatted with these ladies who spoke nearly accent-less English. Turns out, two different buses leave from Puerto Ayora. One goes direct to the ferry crossing, another goes to the bus terminal. They missed the one to the ferry, so they caught the one to the terminal. Additionally, not looking like typical South Americans, both ladies confided they too often receive different information than that provided to locals. Frequently, this information meant they would pay more for something. As did Kathleen and I, the ladies suspected the man at the bus terminal was looking out for his taxi driving buddies.
After the ferry ride and a short bus trip, Kathleen and I arrived at the airport and joined the line trailing from the TAME (Línea Aérea del Ecuador) counter. I know, the acronym doesn’t match. Go to Ecuador to find out why. We’ll have to go back to determine why ourselves.
Our flight was to leave at 10:30am. The time was 8:40am. Should have plenty of time.
People. As with any country on Earth. Someone in the queue ahead of you has got to have some issue. Sure enough, a young man, his frizzy-haired wife, and their multiple children had some kind of problem. And of course, only one person was checking people in. Sigh.
Kathleen and I stood with other the other people in line for over an hour before the young man and his group finally departed from the counter – the line seemed to move steadily now. While waiting, Kathleen and I were sticking close to the people ahead of us because as people behind us got antsy, the cutzies began. If I were any closer to the woman ahead of me we would have shared the same pants.
Our flight to Quito was full. Kathleen and I were seated apart from each other, however, the flight was only an hour and forty minutes. We arrived in Quito and went to the Hotel Sebastian to check-in and retrieve our motorcycle helmets and other items we had the hotel store.
Again, we scored a suite!! Great, as our flight to Los Angeles was not until 4pm the following day. Kathleen and I went out for a walk about Quito and to find some dinner. We again instantly noticed the lack of hustle and bustle as the holiday season had passed and the city was far less hectic.
We returned to our room to enjoy our accommodations for the evening. Here Kathleen is Skipe-ing back to the States.
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