Trans Americas 2009 - The Blog

Despite all the rain yesterday and overnight, this morning dawned clear with only a smattering of clouds to break up an otherwise blue sky. Another early start was called for, with around 300 miles to go to get to Panama City, all the way down the Pan American Highway. Not the most interesting of rides, and for once I was looking forward to a little music as I rode, but then discovered my MP3 player (which I'd not used for a while) had a flat battery, so silence would be the order of the day...

Setting off in convoy, we headed out of town and onto the Pan-Am, a long line of bikes causing some consternation from the locals, who waved at us as we rode past. The Pan Am was long and mostly straight, with light traffic and a heavy police presence keeping our speed down to a steady 65mph. The landscape was bright green, the recent rains and high humidity causing the plants to explode with growth. The distant hills, through which we rode yesterday, were topped with fluffy white clouds, and occasional dark grey patches showing there were still storms in the area.

After a couple of hours we stopped for fuel and to replenish water supplies, before heading back out again. Another couple of hours and we were within striking distance of Panama City, so we stopped at a traditional roadside rest area, with the usual array of fast-food joints (McDonald's, Subway, etc), one of the few places where we could guarantee a reasonably quick turn-round for 21 hungry bikers. Fed and back on the road we arrived at the outskirts of the city, and then missed the turn-off to the Bridge of the Americas, so Kevin led us on a merry dance round and back to pick up the turn, which took us over a flyover and across the bridge. We must have made quite a sight, 16 bikes all riding together across this large bridge, with the skyline of Panama City with its skyscrapers laid out before us. Such was the pace of development here before the credit crunch that the route notes failed us completely, as there's now a new road which the bridge leads onto, which is where the ocean used to be...





But eventually we made our way round the streets of Panama to our hotel, the rather impressive 5-star El Panama, right in the centre of town. It was boiling hot and still very humid when we arrived, dripping with sweat and heaved the bikes onto their centre stands right outside the hotel entrance, the bell-boys excitedly chattering about who we were and why we were here on these big motorcycles.

Unlike previous hotels, though, at this one we need to unload the bikes fully, as tomorrow we'll be taking them to the airport and putting them on a plane to Bogotá. So we lugged our bags up to the room, ours being on the 3rd floor, a nice large room with 2 big beds, a nice shower-room and a desk where I can work on the blog...

With the usual chores attended to (showering, changing, washing my soaked tee-shirt), I headed downstairs to the pool bar... only it wasn't open, as it only opens at 5pm, an hour before the pool closes... madness... so we had a beer in the cafe before sneaking out to the shops to get a replacement UK-US adaptor (I'd lost mine) and suss out the dry cleaners so I can get my bike gear cleaned (it's starting to whiff...). I say sneaking out, because we were under strict instructions to stay in the hotel so that Kevin could tell us what was happening viz-a-vis the bikes, as soon as he and Roddy (from James Cargo) has sorted it. So we hurried back and by now the pool bar was open, so we had another beer or two, before Kevin came and ran through the process for the following day. Then we were off to a “Traditional London Pub” that Christine had found in a magazine that promised “hand-pulled ale and English grub – fish and chips, shepherd's pie and bangers and mash”. Sounded too good to be true, and after a long walk so it proved to be, as it was dire, there was no hand-pulled ale and we didn't like the idea of eating there (but we did get a couple of games of pool in). Back outside we then saw a sign for Hooters and that was it settled, the Mohito's that Aaron had drunk already making it essential we went to a place with girls. Hooters is just such a place, the waitresses having to pass some form of entrance exam that involves a tape-measure and a cup-size indicator (or perhaps a set of weighing scales). Our waitress was stunning, but the food was crap and very expensive, so next time we'll be going somewhere else... After dinner we strolled (staggered) back to the hotel for a night-cap before hitting the sack... another day's hard motorcycle adventuring over... and not much riding for the next few days as we first fly the bikes, then ourselves, to Columbia...