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| El Salvador's border is visible on bottom right |
I really didn't want to support Freddy and his bastardly methods. I asked one of the guys who worked at the hotel which border he thought was best and he said the one near Ciudad Hidalgo was the fastest.
My internet searches comparing the two borders yielded zero pertinent results.
I decided, once in the car, to go for that one. I drove about fifty minutes towards Ciudad Hidalgo, filled up with PEMEX one last time (filled up the tires as well). I was propositioned by three different dudes about having them help me cross into Guate. I turned them all down, then got back on the road until I turned where beckoned to by Google Maps. I was being followed by a guy on a motorcycle honking and honking. I rolled down the window at a very unofficial-looking crossing and told the border agents I was a transmigrante and just then the guy on the bike pulled up on my driver's side. They told me to go with him. He identified himself as Jose Alfredo and told me to follow him. After turning in my Temporary Import Permit on the Mexican side (hopefully my deposit hits my bank account soon) and getting my passport stamped, I crossed a river (another Chiapas/Texas parallel) onto Guatemalan soil.
When Chucho cruised into Mexico, they complimented his looks. As soon as they saw him in Guate, they wanted all of his paperwork, which up until this morning had been sealed. Chucho spent a lot of his time tied to Jose Alfredo's bike while JA and I spent over two hours just on the Guate side going to different windows.
One guy painstakingly hand-wrote out a clean bill of health for Chucho, saying he was in 'perfect health'. Another guy literally waved a smoking wand under both driver and passenger sides of Opie, which apparently counts as Opie having been fumigated. I asked the guy who filled out the paperwork for Chucho about the roads in Guate along CA-2 and he replied 'regular'. Uh oh...
For the privilege of driving in Guate, I was forced to pay 160 (~$23) quetzales for another sticker to put on the inside of my windshield. This money I'll never get back. In talking with the guy who gave me the sticker, I said, "Damn. At least in Mexico they give you the money back." His reply: "Well, Mexico is trying to promote tourism".
Eventually, after close to three hours, I was granted passage into Guate. Jose Alfredo said he'd paid 87 quetzales because he was doing some of the payments and I didn't have quetzales at the time. I grew suspicious and began asking at several stations what the payments were at other departments, loudly enough for JA to hear me. I asked him again and the number dropped to 75 quetzales. The third time I asked it went down to 68 quetzales. I left him with 300 pesos and he seemed ok with that (my fear was his jubilation, which meant I'd gotten ripped off but he had a good poker face if this is the case).
I was dropped into the city of Pajapita. The roads were fine, made up of heavily textured concrete but I came across zero potholes. Once I left the city, I was bumming. Massive and deep potholes, some several asphalt layers deep awaited me.
I passed some cops on the side of the road and heard a whistle from Chucho's side. I pulled over, was asked for my documentation and they let me go within a minute. Less than two minutes later, I was pulled over again. This woman in uniform was very jovial and joking the whole time. She asked if I had a flashlight. I thought to myself that none of the panamerican travel blogs said this was a legal necessity, though I did happen to have one right under Opie's tape deck. She asked how much. I told her what I had bought two for. She said how much for this one and it dawned on me she wanted to buy it off me. Her male counterpart said, "Tiene linterna?" and she nodded. He excitedly came to me and the same two questions and answers were exchanged. I told him it wasn't for sale and they let me go. I asked the woman about the road, particularly the CA-2 and she told me they sucked.
Google Maps bitched out and wouldn't work, and my previously cursed decision to get an international GPS unit now seemed like a great idea. It recognized which town I wanted and dutifully guided me there.
The roads got really bad. I was trying to sync up with someone with a similar wheelbase traveling at a similar speed so I could follow their tracks but it never really happened. The roads were so bad people were doing mini-swerves on both sides of the road. Many times the road on the other side had recently been reasphalted so I frequently took the oncoming traffic lane when it was remotely safe to do so.
I hit easily the three worst bumps of the trip today, all unmarked speed bumps. One jarred my bones and I thought, "This is it, the trip is over." given Opie's questionable undercarriage and camber issues. When I knew the 50 feet or so were clear I kept checking for auto repair shops while going through towns to calculate how far I'd have to get towed.
About two-thirds through the drive, I slowed all the way down for this mountain of a speed bump and winced as Opie's skid plate exchanged textures with the concrete of the speed bump.
While known as topes in Mexico, they are known as tumulos here, just as in El Salvador.
When I hit Guate, my Garmin said I'd arrive around 2:25. I was delayed over an hour due to the bad roads. I only had the town in the GPS unit because it wouldn't recognize the hotel.
The roads eventually improved and I was able to venture north of 35mph. The clouds opened up and we were absolutely DOUSED, so much so that the fastest windshield wiper speed couldn't scoop the water away quickly enough. I made it to and through Taxisco but there were no signs for the hotel.
I turned on roaming data on my phone, called the hotel, and they told me I'd passed it, but on a different road. They gave me a kilometer marker and I found it within forty-five seconds of having called, before I even spotted a situating kilometer marker.
This place is sweet. They have a big golden retriever pup named Bambino who runs free and so Chucho is unbridled as well.
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