A proper rally day.

We set off at 6 am for the 500 kms to Flores.   In order to avoid the hell that is Guatemala City, we were taking a more circuitous route through the mountains and it was tough, tough, tough. Very steep climbs -and descents -  no black top for a lot of it, washboards, craters, deep sand all with some terrifying drops at the side.  It was a bit like Mongolia, only worse because Mongolia is mainly flat.  Then, there were all the speed bumps. Not just any old speed bumps, I’m talking tyre shredding, chassis breaking, unmarked, high and pointy speed bumps. There were hundreds of them everywhere., mostly impossible to see. They are called ‘tumulos’ here - the Spanish for tomb. It figures. There was very little traffic, thankfully although there was the inevitable meeting with the Coca Cola truck.

I loved it, mostly.  My, it was slow going though.  After 5 hours we’d covered  147kms.   The scenery was stunning, the little villages riots of colour with all the women traditionally dressed, we saw a lovely flower market and felt generally immersed in Guatemala.  

Adrian did a quick plugs change, tightened up the fan belt, and we had a couple of fuel stops. Apart from that we did not stop at all and the journey took 14.5 hours!   It wouldn’t be a rally without arriving late, staggering in to dinner covered in dust and still swaying from the movement, to cheers from everyone else.  The plucky Ford had made it!  I needed a chiropractor after 14+ hours barely able to move in the tiny space of the cab. Especially when the driver needs rather more than his allotted half on account of hugeness. I also have to have a bag in the footwell so can barely move my legs and am in danger of dvt.  It’s fine though and I practise a quick bit of Pilates at fuel stops. 

We had to cross a river on a barge about 100kms from our night stop. Frank, in his scarlet truck, was waiting in the line.  We got on the same barge and I noticed that Frank was steaming and all his coolant was on the floor.  He hadn’t noticed as he was busy on his phone. I crawled under a truck to tell him and we hatched a plan that we would tow him off the barge - one old Ford helping another -and then at least he could look to see what the problem was.  I had already contacted John, who was on the other side, and he rushed off to buy gallons of coolant.  We then pressed on as there was nothing more to be done by us. Thankfully, Frank and Don arrived at the hotel about an hour after us so it was not too bad. 

Darkness descended when we were messing about crossing the river.  Everything is harder in the dark when your old lights are a bit like candles and the bloody speed bumps are even harder to see.  

Our hotel is on a lagoon, among the mangroves, and is simply stunning.  It’s a rest day today so we can go to nearby Tikal. I think I’ll stay here for a week. I’ll be kicking and screaming when we leave.  On my previous trip to Guatemala a hundred years ago, we flew up to Flores and it took 40 mins.  Then, it felt like a real frontier place. We passed a McDonald’s on the way in last night.