Alfred Hitchcock, Wizard’s hat’s and the Pirate Santa Claus…

So, here I sit in a hip little coffee shop on Main Street in Vancouver, trying to edit my writing and watching people running around in the rain. Right now the crystal clear waves, blue skies and endless desert seem like a surreal dream, did all that really happen? Yep, it did, and it was EPIC!!!

Firstly let me apologize for taking SO damn long to edit and post this, but it has been very hectic of late!  Anyway, as you might have guessed, we MADE IT!!! The truck did NOT blow up,(Amazingly!) Lauren and I did NOT kill each other ( Even more amazing) and all is well with the world. So , let me fill you in on our final leg of this crazy journey….

She made me promise I would not post this one, but really, who could resist!

So, we said goodbye to the quaintness of San Luis Obispo and set our sights firmly on the swell magnet that is Santa Cruz….Just outside San Luis obispo is a crazy mansion on a hill that goes by the name of ” Hearst Castle”. This place is incredible. Its called a castle but is actually a huge house built in the forties. George Hearst built this 165 room showhome atop a hill on his 250’000 acre ranch. This place has quite the set-up with a giant visitors center and buses ferrying people up and down the hill every 15 mins. This was THE place to be back in the day, a true playground of the rich and famous and everyone from Erol Flynn to Winston churchill kicked back and partied here. The grounds used to be full of wild animals but over the years they were all donated to Zoos . If you look carefully you can still see some of the Zebra that roam the property. This place was opulent and palatial with its huge gardens and swimming pools, and it would have been nice to just hang out here for the day with a few good books but as the day was getting on , and we still had a long road ahead, we headed back down to the truck.

The next stretch of road Northwards to Santa Cruz is commonly known as ” Big Sur” which must be Native for ” Death defying clifftop drive through endless rain and thick fog! “. I then remembered I had only one windscreen wiper and decided to make a quick pitstop and fix it..I managed to find a garage but weirdly they didnt have a part for a car from the eighty’s! So with the help of my trusty stanley knife and duck tape we fashioned one from an old part and hey presto!, we were in business. The wiper flew off 8 months ago and I just kept it in the parts box in the truck as there was never any rain but we had come full circle ,and the heavens were about to open. This really is an amazing drive and as the road twisted and turned towards the clouds and the rain was coming sideways, it felt about as wild as a drive gets. Every now and again you would see a driveway peeking out from the cliff top and It amazed me that people would live up here. What amazed me even more is that Clint Eastwood lives up here! Apparently he owns a restaurant along here and some nights even shows up and plays the piano. Weird.

Not bad for a paddling pool !..

As the road finally descends, you come down upon the wealthy outcrop of rock known as the Monterey Peninsular. This is home to a famous aquarium which Lauren was excited to visit  so with the light fading and with tired eyes,we found a cheap motel and pulled in for the night. Some of the motels out this way can be pretty cheap, and with it costing around 40 bucks to camp in state parks(?)- in the rain, or about 60 bucks to sleep in a warm bed,- in the dry , the choice is sometimes a no-brainer!  This particular little place also had a hot tub and pool and after dumping the bags and boards, I headed down there to stretch out my crumpled up back. That’s one thing with all the distance we have covered, is that your back really does suffer. After nearly a year of poor beds and hammocks and old saggy truck seats it takes its toll, and we would make a point of stretching each other out every night .

We awoke the next day to brilliant sunshine and a freshly washed world, and we headed off to the aquarium. We were told they had a Great White Shark and I was keen to see this guy up close (from behind glass !). Sharks have always been a topic of discussion on this trip, and many stories have been told around campfires about the Men in grey suits, but to be honest , they have never really bothered me. Every now and again, usually when I am surfing solo, I will get the chills and paddle in; but for the most part I dont think about it, Im usually more worried about getting killed by the waves themselves! There were a few fins spotted along the way in places we were surfing, and one poor kid even had his leg chomped off and died just round the bay from us, but touch wood, weve been fine. One guy we met from Hawaii had been attacked by a 14 ft tiger shark in the 90′s and lived to tell the tale. ( you can google Rick gruzinski-shark attack-Hawaii ).. So, I was excited to see this monster death machine in all its glory and made a beeline straight for the giant tank and, with a pounding heart, I waited .. Here he comes… Wow, this tank must be huge because he looks really far away… No, he was just really small !! About as scary as Nemo and the size of a blue fin tuna. What a disappointment ! . Anyway, the place was cool and its worth going just to see the sea-horses . It baffles me that creatures that weird exist in our oceans. So, looking at all those fish made me hungry and we headed out to find a sea-food place and after lunch we headed up the road Santa Cruz…

The house that Jack built, pleasure point , Santa Cruz

I love Santa Cruz, Its a very cool little place. There are SO many surf breaks around here that on any given day you can find somewhere with a decent wave. Its no surprise that so many pro surfers hail from here, with steamer lane being the breeding ground for many, most notably the late, great Jay Moriarity, who sadly passed away in a freediving accident in the Maldives. Jay was an incredible surfer who shot to fame on a wipeout at legendary big wave spot ” Mavericks” when he was just 16 years old.  We chatted with some guys who knew him well and they told us stories of Jay looking out on a flat day and saying “ I’m just going to paddle to Monterrey ” which is a ridiculously long way across the open ocean, to train for his ongoing quest to surf giant waves at Mavericks.

Last time I was in Santa Cruz Will and I had battled with the crowds and the waves, and I was excited to look at surfing here through new eyes. I also had a debt to pay back here. When I was in San Juanico in Baja, a very kind lady had lent me 50 bucks to buy gas, and given me all the info I needed to make it out of the desert in one piece and I was keen to find her and say a big “Thank you”. As we rolled along the bluffs that line the bay at Santa Cruz it looked really busy. It was the weekend, but to me it seemed there were a LOT of people here. As it turns out there was a soccer competition all weekend and 10’000 extra people were looking for food and lodging! . Great. After many frustrating hours and a few swear words we finally found a nice place to call home for the night, threw our stuff in the room and took a drive over to Pleasure Point.

Oh, While we are on the subject of SURFING , my friend Ian who co=piloted the beast down through El Salvador, sent me this video footage of us surfing at Punta Mango!! (Im the one on the red board with white stuff on my face!) This is on our way south so the surfing is still very rough and the waves are pretty small but were surfing. I think I even try to hang a cheeky five!, and Im still waiting for my royalties cheque in the mail….anyway, back to the story….

This is a great , if always crowded surf spot, that is home to the inventor of the wet-suit, Jack O’neil. His house teeters on the cliff right over the break and sometimes he can be seen on his balcony reading books and watching surfers. Now in his late 80′s O’Neill looks like a kind of pirate Santa Claus complete with long white beard and an eye-patch, the result of accident testing the first surfboard leashes. This guy is” The Man”. Back in the day he opened the very first surf-shop, in San Francisco, and is solely responsible for keeping us all warm in the cold water.

So, I parked the truck outside Jacks house and while Lauren cosied up in the back of the truck for a nap, I jogged down the steps that led to the water. Man, was it crowded out there but strangely enough I bumped straight into my friend from Baja! We chatted for a while and on her advice I paddled out to the second peak. There were some good sized sets rolling through but with so many people it was a good hour before I got a wave. I really love just being out there in the water but the crowds did get to me a bit. I wasnt used to it, and after a while just caught one in. As I was stroking toward the steps to get out , a giant sea otter popped up to say Hello. He was not bothered by me at all and swam around for a good ten minutes eyeing me with interest. I paddled in, woke Lauren and we went off to find my friend to have a catch up and a cup of  tea. After a few hours of reminiscing about perfect waves in the desert we said our good-byes and headed back to our plush room where we had a great night just watching movies in our bathrobes and caught up on some well needed sleep in a really comfy bed.

Safely back on the ground, thank God!

It was late September by now and I had planned to be back in Vancouver mid Oct making it a year on the road , to the day. But we were still deep in California – and with the truck going so slow on the hills and the bends of highway one, it was time to make tracks. The next day after a great little surf session at pleasure point we jumped in the beast and headed out. We were heading north to a Lighthouse that we had heard you could stay at. Sweet! I love lighthouses, always had a dream to live in one. The scenery up here was stunning, and as the miles ticked over the traffic really thinned out.  Along the way we passed a paragliding school and somehow I convinced Lauren to take her maiden voyage! I had done a lot of paragliding when I lived in New Zealand and I knew if I could get her in the air, she would love it. The sun was shining and wind seemed perfect and with hardly any hesitation at all she signed the waver! Then it was my turn to be nervous, I convinced her to do it so hopefully all goes well or im in real trouble! With over 20yrs of flying under his belt the pilot knew what he was doing and she had a great time…

Back on the road and with the light fading we found Pigeon Point lighthouse, and right on cue the weather turned nasty. The sun dissapeared behind dull grey storm clouds, and as the wind whipped up to a scream , we burst out of the weather into the warmth of this little hostel. The manager was a super nice guy, a surfer and a wealth of knowledge on the area. Turns out there is a state reserve nearby that is home to a huge colony of Elephant seals and after a short hike you can be within spitting distance from them . Needless to say Lauren was excited! We checked into a cosy dorm room , grabbed our towels and headed over to the cliff top hot-tub. This may have been the best place on earth for a hot-tub. Perched high up on the cliff and sheltered from the rain , you lay back in the steaming water and watch the ocean rage below. The storm had really set in by this point ,and it was a powerful scene to watch the angry water heave and smash onto the jagged rocks below as the wind howled across the cliff.

Best place on earth for a hot-tub, you have to go!...

The next day , as is typical, the storm had vanished and the sun was shining and everything sparkled and smelled clean. I knocked up some oatmeal and coffee and we jumped back in the truck and headed to Ana Nuevo state reserve. The hike out to the point was fairly tough going through soft sand and prickly scrub, and as the sun beat down I think Lauren regretted her skinny jeans/boots combo! After a half hour or so I could hear deep, throaty yelps floating through the clear air . As we hiked on the noise got louder, until we were met with an awesome sight. This small rugged beach is the worlds largest mainland breeding ground for northern Elephant Seals and the sight of thousands of undulating, barking, fighting beasts was breathtaking. We took some photos, chatted to the nice old volunteer and set off back to the truck .On the hike back I stumbled upon a great looking wave. It was what looked like a right-hand reef break and on the set waves it would really barrel. But, we were still a ways from the truck and with no-one out and a high-tide I couldnt tell if there were rocks boiling just beneath the surface. That , together with the fact that it was a seal breeding ground ( Sharks like to eat seals!)  I thought I would give it a miss. Next time, I thought. From here it was north to San Francisco.

Hard to imagine the noise these giant beast are making!....Ana Nuevo.

San Francisco is a great looking place. Packed tight on a very ( ridiculously!) hilly peninsular , its pastel toned townhouses lookout at the impressive vista of the Golden Gate bridge and thousands of boats clinking up and down along the marina. We had spent a few nights here on the southbound leg and Lauren had spent a week here in the past, so we were happy with just an overnight-er. Lauren has a real passion for fine dining and according to her, “the best restaurant she had ever eaten at” was a stones throw away in nearby Berkeley, and luckily for me she was treating me to dinner there !. San Francisco is also home to arguably one of the most unusual and picturesque waves in the world – Fort Point. This is a left that breaks directly underneath the Golden Gate bridge and is protected from the wind. On precisely the right tide, when a big west swell is in, this place really goes off and can barrel. Will and I had checked it out months ago and it was flat but there was a big west due in overnight and low tide was 8 am ,so I crossed my fingers it would be breaking in the morning. We checked into a good little motel I know and showered and dressed for a nice evening out.

The chef in question is an iconic lady by the name of Alice Waters who lives by the philosophy that her cooking should be basedon the finest and freshest seasonal ingredients that are produced sustain-ably and locally, and over the years has created a community of scores of local farmers and ranchers whose dedication to sustainable agriculture assures the restaurant a steady supply of fresh ingredients . Basically, really bloody good food! I am not really a foodie but I was blown away. I mean, dont get me wrong, I love eating and am more or less always hungry, but to be honest I do it mainly for energy and not really for the love! , but this was a different ball game. It really is hard to describe how good her food was, all I can say is that if you get a chance to be in San Francisco, you have to go.

" Where's Wildo ?! " ... Freezing my ass off waiting for a set .

Next morning I awoke in the dark and crept around getting my gear ready. Would Fort Point be breaking? Would it be scary? It kinda looks scary. Would there be any locals out? Would they let me get a wave? ( The locals here have a bit of a frosty rep!) Would I be able to surf it? …I packed the truck , loaded my boards and then woke Lauren. She had (very) kindly agreed to go with me and try and get a shot or 2, but she’s not really a morning person so I had to tone down my enthusiasm until she had had at least one coffee! We arrived at the base of the Golden Gate Bridge and to my delight the stars had aligned and it was working. It was also busy. I chatted to one guy who told me it was such a fickle wave that I had about 10 minutes before the tide would be wrong and it would fill in. In a panic I threw my wetsuit on , grabbed my smaller board and clambered down the rock jetty to the surf. It was a really sketchy ” get in ” as you had to launch your self of the jetty as the waves washed over the rocks. Time it wrong and you would land on the rocks. Nice. As I was standing, waiting my turn , I slipped and had no choice but to go for it. I was airborne and by the grace of god a big wave washed under me and I landed in the water. I then paddled like a maniac for the shoulder and narrowly avoided getting caught inside. This was an intense surf spot. The swell heaved and sucked you towards the jetty, there were rocks in the take off, and the constant clack-erty-clack of the traffic on the bridge overhead made for a scary surf. The guy was right, and no sooner was I in the line up than the swell dropped off. Bummer! I did make the drop on a few but I should have been here an hour earlier. Oh well, cant win em all. After paddling through a pod of dolphins and nearly snapping my board ( and my neck!) getting out of the water, we packed er’ up , and headed North.

Dropping in on one, Fort Point....

On our way south Will and I had gone for a few beers in a really old , really cool, hotel in Mendocino. This place is right on the ocean, dates back to 1878 ,and is a beautiful refuge of hardwood and stained glass. I remember thinking ” If I had a girlfriend I would bring her here ” Well, as usual it took us much longer to get out of town than we had planned and by the afternoon it was obvious we wouldnt make it to Mendocino that day so we looked for somewhere to camp. Just up ahead was the spooky little town of Bodega Bay which looked as good as anywhere, so we pulled in. This late in the season a lot of campsites shut their doors ( gates) for the winter but we managed to find a ranger and paid our dues. With its bleak treeless hills, quiet little fishing harbor and ever present fog , its no surprise that Alfred Hitchcock chose Bodega Bay for his 1963 film ” The Bird’s”. After a nice fish supper and a game of rummy, we cosied up in the back of the truck for movie night.. Getting up for a pee at about 3am this place really did give me the creeps! The fog had rolled in and engulfed the campground giving it the illusion of being an Island and with the constant low groan of the fog horn, and the eerie shadows dancing around I didnt hang about, and was glad to be back in the truck with the door locked! In the light of day the town wasn’t in the least bit threatening and as the sun rose and it got warm, we plodded on North.

Lady Sawyer having a spot of afternoon tea , Mendocino Hotel....

The road from Bodega bay to Mendocino is a fantastic drive hugging the ocean all the way and the views are very impressive, but again with the windy roads and steep hills, the truck really struggled and it seemed we always had an entourage of twenty cars on our tail! As it got cold and headlights started popping on the question of where would sleep rose its ugly head. Lauren and I differ in our approach to this ongoing dilemma, and whereas I do tend to just wing it, Lauren likes to know ( and fair enough) where she will be laying her pretty head! But this was supposed to be a surprise and I just kept saying ” I dont know, We’ll find somewhere soon”. This caused mucho tension and it was with great relief we pulled up to the Mendocino Hotel and checked into our room. She loved it, (result!) and all smiles , she took me out for dinner . Some days before Lauren had purchased another ( she collects them) pack of cards, this time each card had a recipe for a cocktail on. We then set about playing cards and invented a rule by where if you lost, you cut the pack and whatever card you got , you had to order that cocktail. Great game, unless you lose. And I lost, 8 times in row!! Never play cards with Lauren.

Next day we rose 5 mins before checkout with horrible hangovers, tried to eat breakfast, then packed the truck. We were headed to the weird and wonderful Humboldt county, and in particular the town of Eureka! Eureka means ” I found it! ” and I reckon its a fitting name for an area so brimming with goodness. While there was a shitload of gold found here back way when, these days the goodness to be had comes in the form of stands of giant redwood trees, rivers teeming with fish, valleys full of top class bud( I hear that’s some kind of funny plant you smoke!) and if your lucky, a perfectly clean 6 foot beach break all to yourself. This place is full of farmers, ranchers, hippies, retirees, hillbilly’s, convicts, drifters and even a few surfers.

One hell of a big tree..! Humboldt County.

As you enter Humboldt county the road heads inland and becomes a magical mystery tour of entrepreneurial forest dwellings. There is a drive through tree, a Bigfoot museum, funny little coffee shops that smell funny ( if you know what I mean) and even a weird place called confusion hill! ( which IS actually very confusing ) By the time we had wound our way through the redwood forests to Eureka, our minds were fully expanded and the dashboard was full of little knickknacks and good luck charms!

We rolled into Eureka and is customary went straight for a cold one! There is a great little brew pub here called ” The Lost Coast Brewery ” and they do a GREAT er, Great- White larger. After a few to wet the whistle, we trundled off to find a cheap motel ,and BOY did we find one! The police were milling around sorting out some dispute or another, and some drunk grunted at us as we checked in , but the rooms were clean and the parking lot was lit, so beggars cant always be choosers! Some time ago a surfer we had met in Mexico told me of a wave that breaks right inside the Humboldt Harbor, a stones-throw from Eureka, so in the morning as Lauren slept, I grabbed my board and headed out into the drizzle. After about a halfhour I pulled up into some sand dunes, looking for the jetty . It took some searching but I eventually found where the wave was rumored to break. It didnt seem to me to be doing its thing, so I threw the beast in 4wd and took off down the beach to explore. On the other side of the jetty, a ways down the beach, I found a really good looking beach break with four or five guys out. Nice! Its always a mission at a new spot, not only do you have to FIND the spot, you know nothing of the way it breaks and all surf spots are different. This really was a decent wave and after a few not-unfriendly-nod’s from the locals, I dropped into some great waves. Shivering but happy after a good session, I fired up the truck and headed inland. After breakfast at a cool little college town we headed north to find a church in the shape of a wizards hat?!

Lauren is constantly finding these little gems all the way up the coast that break up the drive and keep things fun. I was trying to picture what this church would look like, when it appeared up to our right and really did look like a wizards hat! This place was very cool. A non-denominational prayer room in the middle of no-where , lit with stained glass and hand crafted from local woods. After a few obligatory jumping photos we got back on the road with our sights on Crescent City.

The ' wacky to'backy is pretty potent in these parts!...

As the truck groaned and lurched up highway one the heavens decided to open. Bigtime. It was raining so hard that I feared both wipers would fly off and the roof might start leaking (again)……..The coast line around here is as rugged as it gets, and as we wound our way through the Redwood National Park and past the impressive mouth of the Klamath river , I started to feel tired. Not tired in the conventional sense , but tired. A year is a really long time to be on the road, staying in most places for a day or two, then moving on, dont get me wrong, this was the BEST time of my entire life and really changed me for good, but as the days got shorter and shorter and the shorts and flip flops turned into jeans and hiking boots, I have started to long for home. But as these thoughts drifted round my head and the afternoon became dark and moody, I began to bring up questions which would at some point need answering, and I became overwhelmed. What happens after the wheels stop rolling? You just get out of the truck, and then what? How do you top the best time you’ve ever had? Will I ever settle somewhere? Will I find work? Will this trip fade to memory and finally just exsist as a series of snap-shots?” Jesus! I need to lighten up !” I thought, questions can be dealt with when the trip is over , and right now its still far from over!, so I gave myself a slap and turned the music up, and with the wind and rain still howling outside, we coasted down the hill into Crescent City.

It really was good smoked salmon! Klamath river, Yurok 1st Nation Reserve...

After finding a cool little lodge to call home Lauren suddenly got the urge to go bowling! Ok, sweet. I knew where there was a bowling alley and we headed out into the weather to find it. Unluckily for us it was closed , great! We then drove around for ever looking for somewhere to have a drink and eventually stumbled upon a depressing little bar and got stuck into a few good games of pool, which I lost!  Im sure on a good day this town has its charms , and I hear a few days ago there was perfect head high swell, but both times Ive been here its been pouring rain, windy and devoid of nightlife, so with the Oregon border looming on the horizon, we decided to call it a night.

In the the gloomy drizzle of the dawn I decided to give the place one last kick of the can and try and find a decent wave. The storm had really set in over night and the sea was angry. All the reefs and points looked far too sketchy and I opted for the south side of the jetty, looking for some protection from the winds. As I dragged on my cold, wet, wet-suit and drank my coffee, I realized most people would think you were crazy for leaving the love of a good woman and a warm bed for an ice cold, murky, tempestuous ocean, but just one good wave really does make it all worth it! I looked for a paddling channel but it was just close out after close out, so I just found the nearest rip and made my way out back. After about 2o mins of turtle rolling and getting beaten up I made it to where I supposed the line up would be, but on a day like this waves were just breaking everywhere. It was big ,and as I rose and dropped with the swell, the land would disappear from view. With the wind howling and the spray in the air I realized I was shouting out loud, I felt great, truly alive, like you might feel if you were lost at sea and clinging to the top of your mast screaming ” Is that all you’ve got?”.. Ok , maybe not that crazy, but close. It was hard to read any of these waves and after an hour or so I was freezing and needed to catch one in.. I turned and somehow dropped into the best wave of the session and right before it closed out over me and gave me a serious beat-down, I remember looking down the line and thinking how amazing surfing is, and how lucky I am .

So, our time in California sadly drew to an end… Goodbye and farewell my friend , you have been a great host. And on and on we move , North….

So thats all for part one of the last leg home, part two- my LAST and FINAL post of this adventure, will follow shortly. As I type this it makes me sad, I really do love writing the blog, who knows maybe with a lot more practice and a big bag of luck I may be able to make a living doing it!? One must have dreams!!…Anyway, I cant thank you all enough for taking the time to read my story and I really do hope it entertains and is not a bore.

Shaka my friends, Shaka...

So  for now, take care and go and get out in the fresh air!! AND….. Remember what Menander said about 2000 years ago ” A mans nature and way of life are his fate, and that which he calls his fate is but his disposition.”   Adios amigo’s.

Hollyweird, Zoltar and the Bubble-gum alley…

So, where was I ? Oh yeah, heading for the US border. Borders fill me with a mixture of excitement and dread.. There is always the chance of a full search, and the fact that I have just driven from Panama and look like a castaway doesn’t help my cause either.. As I climbed slowly from the small town of San Isidro and back out to the highway my head was going round in circles.. I was about to re-enter life north of the border and I had mixed feelings… I didn’t want to feel like my adventure was ending just because I was crossing the border, because it wasn’t. There are plenty more waves and people to meet and all that fun stuff , but as I approached Tijuana I knew I would leave a piece of myself down here….. and vowed to return one day…

Farewell Baja...I will be back.

So the road wound on and the sun bore down as I joined the thousands of Mexicans going to work in the US and all the other surfer traveller types. I had a sudden panic attack that they were going to rip my truck apart looking for drugs, and as my truck is rusted to death, that it would just fall apart and my journey would end here; I would never make it back to Canada etc, etc… and it was while I was daydreaming this scenario that someone smashed into me from behind. My truck lurched forward and with an aching neck I climbed out to see the damage. This is not the first time the truck has taken a knock, and the frame just looked more crooked and the body even more lopsided!… The other guy’s car was a right mess. He had hit my towbar and there was a big gaping hole in his grill, and the hood was busted up with steam coming out. It was his fault and as going down the insurance route seemed pointless, we just shook hands, raised our eyebrows and jumped back in to pull up to the window.

You got to love Tijuana....

After a seemingly blase check of my credentials I asked the woman if she could re-fund my vehicle permit ( On entering Mexico from Guatemala they make you pay 300 dollars US that you get back at Tijuana, supposedly!).. she said this had to be done in Mexico but having waited 2hrs in the queue I didn’t want to drive back into Mexico. She said I could park 200 yds ahead and walk back into Mexico and sort it out. Bingo!, job’s a gud’un I thought. I parked, grabbed my papers and wandered back into Mexico. There is no customs from the US to Mexico on foot, you just cross a bridge and you’re in Mexico. Weird, you just show your passport going the other way. Anyway, turns out they needed to see my car so it was a wasted journey, and I headed back over to join the queue back to the States. As I approached passport control I got a bad feeling. The small ( why are they always small?) stocky idiot with the army haircut just stuck his hand out for my passport and looked at me like I had slept with his wife; after a while he said where’s your stamp? I said ” In my passport”, he didnt like that one.” Where’s your Visa?”  he barked… Er, I wanted to say ” in my passport” but I thought he might snap so I just blew my cheeks out and pointed at my passport…. He found it…

” This is expired”. He looks at me and gets on his radio.. This other muppet turns up and asks me the same questions. I try to explain that I have just driven in and parked and walked back into Mexico to sort some papers out. They asked who stamped my passport and I pointed through the window to the booth where the lady sat. They said ” There’s no stamp here”. WTF? By now I was confused and a little worried. The smaller of the two said ” Follow me” and he took me to a room and I sat down. He left. This is a fu@%in nightmare!… After a while another guy turned up and asked me everything. I mean everything. After an hour or so, when he was convinced I was not going to blow myself up or attack someone with my flip-flops he just pointed at a queue and said, ” Go and get a Visa” . I joined about 300 Mexicans waiting for this golden ticket. Long story short, after 3 hrs and a retina scan, I showed this little green card to the same tool who had denied me entry and ignoring his retarded comments, pushed out into the evening sunshine . I went to get my truck and it had been in a carpark which charges 2 dollars for half an hour! Nice, I then didnt have enough to get out! With no ATMs around I just begged the guy to let me go before I freaked out. God bless him, he did, and I fired ‘er up and drove off into the sunset…Welcome to the States!

Howdy pardner....

Lauren had arranged for me to stay at her relatives and leave my truck there . ( Thanks again Shelley!) After a good feed and a great sleep I packed the truck down, tarped it off, and headed into downtown San Diego to find a hostel for the night. My flight to Texas was in the dawn hours and after a short stay there Lauren and I were heading to England for a wedding. After a few hours of fitfull sleep my alarm clock announced it was time to go. I HATE flying, always have, and even though I have been flying round the world for a decade it has gotten no better. So , after many hours of sweating and eating crap food and 10 dollar beers I touched down in Texas.. YEE- HAR!!!…

Well, I say Texas what I really mean is Austin , cos by all accounts they are two separate places. I had visions of people riding horses and sipping whiskey in 10 gallon hats listening to Johnny Cash, and allthough Im sure somewhere there they do , I didn’t see it. Austin has for the longest time had a reputation for being a musical epicenter and with about 1900 bands and performing artists living in and around the city you get the idea that this may be true…  Anyway, back to the story… I picked up my bags and I looked up to see Lauren, all smiles and cowboy boots.. It was so good to see her.. I felt like I had’nt seen her for a year, but anyway I’ll spare you all the soppy stuff and just say I had a great time in Austin, great people, great food and I even have a bonefide cowboy hat! ( Thanks John). We went to the lake , had lots of family dinners and I even went to my first American Football game at UT… ” Hook em’ Horn’s ” !! It was great to see Lauren in her element and really great to meet her family who welcomed me with open arms. It also made me realize how out of her element she must have been camping in the jungle with the snakes!…

Hook em' Horns !!!!........

Our week here came to an end and it was time to catch our flight across the pond to blighty. This was a great visit. Hectic, but great. Lauren was looking forward to seeing where I came from, meeting my family and going on all the Beatles tours!. I was looking forward to seeing my family , especially my little nephews and my niece. My good friend Dave was also tying the knot to his lovely fiance and all the lads were going to be there. We all left in our early twenties and I havent seen some of those characters for about 8 yrs. After a harrowing flight for both (me terrified and wide awake with a broken tooth(dont ask), Lauren unperturbed and asleep) We arrived in sunny- sunny Manchester and my lovely sister and little Jacob were there to meet us. After a big family catch up that night we slept like babies and awoke late to throw on our best bib’n'tucker and made it to Dave’s wedding with seconds to spare! As with all true friends it wasn’t in the least bit weird to see them all after all that time. Everyone looked a little older and smarter than they used to and after a wonderful ceremony ( Amazing solo singing by one talented girl) we all made our way to the zoo, yes the zoo, for the reception.  We set about drinking champagne and discussing politics over fresh scones, clotted cream and jam.. I told Lauren this is a normal English Saturday afternoon, but I don’t think she was fooled. As the afternoon turned into night we had consumed enough to convince ourselves we could dance and moved inside to show everyone how it was done! A great night had by all…

Lauren in the Cavern, The Beatles played here about 290 times...

Our trip to England was great, lots of family dinners and catchups and pints down the pub. I had a great time getting re-acquainted with the little ones and the big ones, Lauren fullfilled a life long ambition to have proper fish’n'chips and even climbed a mountain! As fate would have it we arrived in Liverpool at the start of the Matthew St Festival, the annual Beatles bash. Lauren has been a lifelong Beatles fan so she loved it . We went and did the Beatles tour and I took her to some of the pubs they first played in, we then caught the ” Ferry , cross the Mersey” and went and checked out the festival. By the time we got there it seemed like the whole of Liverpool had had a skin-full and it looked like a bad day in Baghdad ! The look on Lauren’s face as we made our way through the debris that whirled around in the wind, and the cans and bottles that piled up like colorful snow was priceless. I forget that its not the norm in every city for everyone to be drunk and staggering around the streets at 5pm ! Most bars had great Beatles cover bands and look-alikes and as the pints and baked-bean flavored Tequilas flowed(?), we got right stuck in and a great night was had by all… It was really great to get grounded by my home after all the craziness of Central America. I forget not everywhere has history like we do. My Dad took us to a church that was from the 15th century and pubs so old the doorways were only 5 an a half foot tall on account that people didnt grow any taller back in the day…So, our time here sadly drew to an end and with many hugs, tears and back-slaps it was time to get out West and get back on the long road North…So with bleary heads we were back at Manchester airport awating our flights to Texas. We had had to delay our return for a day or so because of a hurricane over New York , which was great but it really was time to get back on track.

Its Sergeant Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band, we hope you will enjoy the show..

After a quite good flight really we touched back down in Texas in the sweltering heat. Texas is in the grip of the worst drought in its history with crops failing and cattle dying right and left. Austin itself was sitting in a smoky haze due to the high number of fires on its perimeter, and with the lack of rain and strong winds things did not look good. After a few HOT days getting sorted and having family time we got packed up for our last flight ( thank the lord) out to San Diego. To take my mind of the impending doom of flying we went out to the movies but not just any movie house, the Alamo Draft house. This is the ONLY way to watch a movie with cold beer and food being served throughout, doesn’t get better than that. The movie sucked but hey-ho… We awoke at the crack of dawn and Lauren’s dad kindly gave us a lift to the airport. After another long flight and a 5hr layover we finally touched down in San Diego. We went off to find the nearest hostel and bagged a room, we just threw our bags down and collapsed face down on the bed and with the stress of all the traveling oozing from our pores, we fell sound asleep.

Remember the movie " BIG" with Tom Hanks?, this is the original " Zoltar ". Sweet.

We awoke some time in the evening, ravenous with hunger and headed out to find somewhere to eat. We found a cool pub and wandered in wondering why it was so dark in there. Turned out that all the power had gone off in the whole pacific south west , including Mexico! First thing that happened was chaos on the streets with all the traffic lights being out and traffic ground to a honking , confused halt… We just ordered a few beers and watched the ensuing madness. I just left my credit card behind the bar and said I would sort it out when the power came back . Rumours started flying round the bar of terrorism and global meltdown with people talking about the end of the world. The power goes out and people lose their minds! This situation is a daily occurrence in Mexico but I guess here it’s not the norm. It was great to see a city like this, I mean how often do you get to see a major city in total darkness? , great fun. We went back to the hostel and slept well and when we awoke in the morning guess what? the world had not ended and the power was back on.. We then caught a cab over to Lauren’s cousins house to pick up my truck… There she was in all her rusted glory! I jumped in and cranked her over, nothing. Oh well, just cold . I tried again, nothing- shit. Turns out I had left the keys in the ignition and it had drained the batteries flat, nice move Williams. We then spent the day looking for, and fitting, said batteries leading to much cursing and short tempers. It didn’t help that we both had raging hangovers from catching up with some folk we had met in El Salvador! Anyway 300 bucks lighter we hit the road with 2 fancy new batteries . After re-charging our own batteries at a motel we headed north, first stop La Jolla.

This place had a rich surfing history way before the Beach Boys made it famous with their song ” Surfin’ USA”, and in the fifties and sixties this was the place to be. It still is these days if you are a millionaire, and the whiter than white smiles and fake boobs cruising the main drag in their new Porsches are 10 ‘a penny, but despite all the bling La Jolla still has a lot of charm. With its many reefs and points there are no shortage of surf spots, when there’s swell, which there wasn’t so we went to watch the seals at the Kids Pool . The Kids Pool is kinda like a seal sanctuary slash aquarium . In the morning and evening hundreds of seals come into this little bay to rest and are so used to people you can throw on your snorkel and go and play with them- pretty cool.  The day wore on and as the sun lost its sting we looked for somewhere to camp..

Freezing my ass off after surfing sans' wet-suit , San Elijo.

We came upon San Elijo campground overlooking a nice little wave called ” Turtles”… We pulled in , grabbed some food and set up camp. There are 3 options with the truck when it comes to camping- Throw down a little tent, sleep in the back of the truck or put up the roof-top tent… All have their merits depending on where we are. We decided to sleep in the truck as the ground was all stones and we wer’nt staying long enough to warrant the roof tent.. I awoke at dawn and crawled out to brew some coffee and check the surf which was pretty bunk and allready had 10 guys on it.. give me those empty waves in Baja anyday! But as I’ve said it’s ALWAYS worth the paddle out ( tell me that when were back in Canada and I’m chipping ice from my booties in the dark!) so I put my 3 mil suit on and paddled out. On my way south I had to adjust to surfing without a wet-suit, as your balance is different and now I was struggling being back in one! It was a fun session anyway and it was great to be back in the water, even if I did have to listen to guys telling me how good it was a week ago when a huge southern hemi rolled in and the coast went off. I was in Texas, enough said.

I went back to camp and woke Lauren and we spent a great day sunbathing , surfing and reading, and decided to stay another night.. That evening I was feeling creative and instead of pasta and sauce I went and got some wild Mexican shrimp and made a Malaysian curry which wasnt bad for camp food! After dinner we decided a movie night was in order and cosied up in the back of the truck and drew the curtains. The only thing missing was the pop-corn.

Blackies , Newport beach.. coldest beer Ive had since El Cuco, El Salvador.

Next morning we woke early packed up and hit the road with our sights set on the bright lights of LA. Lauren’s sister Karina, an aspiring actress, lives in Hollywood and had kindly invited us to stay. We passed through the cool , quaint towns of San Clemente, Dana point, Laguna Beach and Newport Beach (both amazingly beautiful beaches), all good surf spots in their own right but with no swell in the water we checked them out and kept heading north. In Newport beach we called into Blackies for an obligatory cold beer and meatball sandwich, and then turned inland towards the smog filled craziness that is Los Angeles.. After a small disagreement on directions ( I admit it, I was wrong!)(“as usual”-Lauren) and an hour or so on hair-raising freeways we spotted the famous Hollywood sign in the hills to our right.. Karina guided us into the underground parking with at least an inch to spare overhead and we headed upstairs and collapsed into her sofa. It has been such a wild month for me.I have gone from camping in the deserts of Mexico in the middle of nowhere to staying in the Hollywood hills dining with the rich and famous, and everything in-between. LA is a weird place. I feel like everyone looks at everyone else for a split second longer than is usual to see if they are famous.. And there are famous people everywhere, I went for breakfast on my own to a little greasy-spoon diner in Hollywood and a man with a strong Aussie accent plonked down next to me, turns out he was that guy who was in Cocktail with Tom Cruise, you know the guy, whatsisname? Anyway the point being you never know who will sit next to you round here.. After a day of intense visual stimulus and smoggy noise I was keen to get to the coast and get in the water. Lauren was keen on shopping on Rodeo Drive and glamming it up so I decided to wake early and head to Malibu. Over a few beers I convinced Karina’s boyfriend Justin to get out of town for the day and come with me.

Venice Beach... If you cant beat em', join em'.

With bleary eyes we headed off into the morning mayhem of downtown LA. Drivers here suck. There is no other way to put it, they are straight up mean and self-centered. Justin explained that people have a ” Cant beat ‘em join em” mentality and if you don’t you will never get anywhere. So, after an hour or so we hit the coast and the relief for me was great, that blast of cool clear sea air and the lack of traffic. We grabbed some quick food, and coffee in hand pulled up to Malibu state beach. I really like it here, it may (always is) be crowded, you may see new Mercedes with surfboards on the roof, but the place has charm. It’s pretty unassuming, there are no blingy restaurants on the front and you don’t have to pay to park, and weirdly there is always a space. This place has been featured in many surf movies over the years, most notably the classic ” Big Wednesday”, which if you have not seen go and rent it immediately. So I set Justin up with a longboard and a wetsuit( Which he put on backwards, classic!) and we paddled out to join the 30 or so at first point. Malibu is a perfect right and even at shoulder high it holds up and peels across the reef perfectly. After waiting an hour or so I was on point and a good set came in. I paddled over the first and took the second set wave, dropped in made my turn, trimmed my board and set off down the line.. People were posted up all down the line and it was only matter of time before someone dropped in on me but why did it have to be a pretty girl?! She dropped straight into my path and I had nowhere to go with reef to my left so I gently lifted her board away to my right and carried on . She bailed over the back of the wave but I had no choice! I kicked out after a great wave and on the paddle out I apologized but she kept saying ” No, no, my fault completely, dont worry” . It occured to me that last time I was here 10 months ago I was the worst surfer out there and now, well, I wasn’t. I would even say I was maybe in the better half, just.

Hollyweird , LA.

Our stay in Hollywood whirled by in a blur of traffic , bars, lights and people, and culminated in one of the highlights of the trip, in my opinion. So, I will omit certain names for obvious reasons but we met a man, who knew a man who worked at the world famous “Capitol Records” here in Hollywood. He “somehow” obtained the ORIGINAL recordings of a few songs recorded there back in the day by a few choice English bands. This is incredible, you have to understand these songs have NEVER been heard before ,as they were not the version that got released. As he loaded up the files and played ” A day in the life” , you can hear John and Paul talking to each other and then counting in the song….and when he played the un-cut , un-edited recording of ” Gimme Shelter” the hairs on my arms stood up and I felt like weeping! He isolated various vocals and it was amazing to hear this stuff, how it’s all put together to make the version you all know and love, true highpoint of my life…

Midway through an 'eargasm, somewhere in the Hollywood hills....

So on a high we said our goodbyes to good people and a crazy place and headed North. Lauren really wanted to stop in Malibu and who am I to complain?! We found the cheapest Motel room we could ( Nothing is cheap here!) and went to the famous D’amores for pizza. Not the best pizza ever but hey, Lindsey Lohan and ” The Rock” eat here so you can’t complain right?!  Next morning I paddled out at second point and had a crappy session in windblown knee-slappers and cut my feet to ribbons ( It’s always worth it right?)  I drove back , woke Lauren and we jumped in the truck and headed north towards Santa Barbara . As you head out of Malibu you get to see some of the ginormous houses dotted amongst the hills that are home to the rich and famous, and I think Lauren decided she wanted to live here!!

Hard at work as usual, Refugio state beach.

We rolled through Santa Barbara and stopped to check out the famous pier and have lunch, then headed north to the sweet campground at Refugio. Will and I had stayed here on our way south and struggled getting waves here, so I was keen to get stuck in now and catch a few but alas, it was flat as a pancake. Oh well, nice place though and we decided to stay a couple of nights …  We busied ourselves with camp life, setting up the roof tent, making fires, handwashing underpants (?) , running on the beach, reading and playing cards. I love camping and after nearly a year on the road I’m as at home in a tent as I am anywhere, but my gear was starting to show its age. I guess most people use their camping gear about 5 times a year or something so after about 200 nights camping things were breaking down. Mice had chewed into my roof tent and were living in the matress, everything was rusting from the sea air and things just have a general smell, it smells like ” Damp surf trip” . Im used to it, you wouldnt like it! Anyway, after a few less than deep sleeps due to the highway, train,dogs and teenage drunks, Lauren kindly but firmly said she needed to sleep in a proper bed in a proper room (with noise insulation), cheek of it! The roof tent is like a penthouse! ( In my mind !)…. So we headed north to the cool quirkyness of San Luis Obispo…

So here we are…. Phew, that was a long blog I don’t blame you if you turned off your computer and went out pages ago, I might have! So from here its north to the great, great surf town of Santa Cruz and hopefully some swell… We are excited for the next stretch of coast as it’s wild and interesting, wind blown and dotted with secluded beaches and castles, seals and sharks and plenty more, so stay tuned… It really is hard to comprehend that we will be rolling into Vancouver in about 3 weeks, it blows my mind . Will the truck make it? I dont know , really, it’s very beat up and rusty but with all my heart I hope so!! Will we get some great swell and some epic waves?? Course we

Bubble Gum Alley, San Luis Obispo... An entire alley covered in gum, messages and photos. Sounds disgusting but is actually very cool.

will! Will we have fun and meet more people and have more adventures and try not to kill each other with this crazy road life?? Yes, is my prediction!

So peeps, that’s all for this chapter, but the end is drawing near, and I will face the final curtain…. How many blogs left? two? one? At least one!  I thank you all so, so, much for keeping me grounded and reading my story, and I hope this winter some of you quit your jobs and hit the road in search of adventure ( but when you’re penniless and sunburnt dont blame me!) and if not we can sit huddled in the pub escaping the weather, and talking about the next time we do.

Take care of yourselves , and one another , and remember what Lillian Dickson said – ” Life is like a coin. You can spend it any way you wish, but you only spend it once”…. Till the next time mi amigos, Neil.

 

PS. Remember if you double click any of the photos they get bigger and more enjoyable…. OOoo – er.

Sand-storm’s, Harry Potter and the perfect Scorpion…

The roads of Baja are dotted with roadside shrines to the poor souls who lost their lives here...some people get creative with the cacti...

I awoke sometime around dawn and stumbled off to find my free breakfast. The sea was fairly calm and I could see my first glimpse of Baja again. The first thing you notice is how barren and un-forgiving it looks, but the thought of empty waves and wild deserts made me smile. With my belly full of eggs and beans I grabbed my Styrofoam of awful coffee and joined the line waiting to get down to the cars. On my way south there had been many other people on trips like mine and we would sit around discussing each others rigs and proposed routes, but on this return leg it would seem I was the only Non-Mexican on the boat.  The woman gave us the go ahead and we climbed down a sketchy little ladder into the dark whereupon most people started their engines to use their Air-con which resulted in a thick, choking exhaust fog swirling between the trucks. We docked and I ambled down the ramp and made my way to the Army checkpoint and, after the usual questions and a joke or two, I made my way into La Paz. La Paz is a bustling little city centered around a fancy looking harbor where many Americans have boats moored. Last time I was here we went and camped out on the beach at the point but the road out there was closed, and I turned around and looked for a cheap hotel. I set about stocking the truck up with food and supplies and working on the blog..La Paz has everything you would need and with a fully replenished rig, I hit the road. Next stop -Punta Conejo.

This place has a supposedly world-class left breaking wave that I have yet to see break! Will and I were camped here for a while on our way south and the wind howled for the entire time. As I arrived, a couple just leaving told me it had been glassy and head-high for days but the swell had died and the wind had begun, awesome. I camped up and set about exploring and gathering info. I met a couple from Pescadero in the south who come out here and camp right on the Arroyo (dry riverbed) for 3 months each year! They had the mother of all camp set ups, I mean they had EVERYTHING. They had a huge tent with a full kitchen and dining table, a quad to get around on, tons of fishing,diving,kayaking and snorkeling gear and about five full ice chests of food! I wandered over right at dinner time (not planned honestly) and they invited me to join them. It may have been the best meal of the trip, rival to a steak I had in Nicaragua.. It was some kind of sea-food soup that was native to Peru and probably would have cost a fortune in a restaurant back home as it was crammed with lobster, octopus and white fish, all caught fresh that day right there in Punta Conejo …

Sunset over Punta Conejo...

   The next day , with the wind still blowing strong onshore and the sea a mess of whitecaps , I set about some long overdue haberdashery on the truck.. Many months ago I had started to make curtains for my truck and up until now it seemed that I could never find the time to finish them!! Many hours later and with bleeding fingers I had myself quality curtains all-round. The wind backed off and I grabbed a board and paddled out. It was messy , small and closing out, but still fun. It’s always worth paddling out. I caught some fun little rides, came in starving and fired up the stove to cook the usual – pasta, sauce and dried beef. Yum. (kind of).. After dinner I climbed a nearby tree to watch one of the best sunsets yet..as I sat reading that evening I thought I would give this place one more try and if the wind was still blowing, then I would head north to a legendary string of right point breaks, collectively known as Scorpion Bay.

    After a great sleep I woke to the sound of the dreaded wind and climbed up my tree to get a good view of the sea. Flat. In the pre-dawn gloom I made the decision to cut my losses and head north. I packed up with lightening speed and after scoffing some muesli (again) I rolled out across the arroyo and made my way up the hill to the dirt road. As luck would have it I bumped into a crew of Aussies who were just setting up camp and had just made their way here from Scorpion Bay. They were heading south and after a quick squizz at the maps and trading a few stories, I left with a better idea of where I was going .  I ambled down the washboard sand road back out to the highway and as the first rays of sun began to light up the dust around me, I felt great and hunched over the wheel and turned the tunes up , happy to be on the road again.

    

No Starbucks out here!...

 I had passed up on Scorpion Bay when we came down Baja months before, as the road in from the north is over 100 miles across open salt flats and not the place you want to get lost ,but coming up from the South the road was rumoured to be graded and in good nick. If I could just find it !  After a few hours of cruisy driving in the cool morning air, I pulled over and had a great breakfast in a little roadside shack . It really is hit and miss when it comes to food down here, you can never tell where or what might make you sick, but as a general rule if it’s fairly busy I’ll stop, if no-ones eating, i’ll move on.         Breakfast almost always consists of eggs with either onions,tomatoes,avocado,chilies, refried beans or chorizo, sometimes all together and always served with tortillas and Nescafe. I love it because when I’m camping its always oatmeal, or if no hot water is ready, muesli. With a full belly and shaking from too much coffee, I gassed up and headed on to the last big town I would see for a while – Ciudad Constitution. Here I found a supermarket and stocked up on food, water, beer and wine as I didn’t know what to expect at Scorpion Bay. From here it was on to Ciudad (city) Insurgentes to find the turn off from the highway towards the village of La Purisima .

       This road was hellish. It was dead straight for about 100ks and was littered with potholes so big you could fill them with water and stock them with trout! It sucked, and the only scenery out here was scrub cactus as far as the eye could see and the occasional rusted wreck of a crashed car. I plodded on and after what seemed like half the day I came to a sign reading San Juanico, and pointing off into the desert. This was the road I wanted and in a cloud of dust I left the highway and bounced off into the sand and rocks… This road was in fairly good condition for a dirt road and wound slowly up into some amazing scenery… As the beast laboured and grunted up into the mesa’s, visions of empty waves and big fish filled my head, and as I began daydreaming in the blazing sun, I realised I was lost. I had somehow taken the wrong fork and started heading N/E. Not good. There was little sign of life out here save for the vultures circling high above and the occasional lizard, so I made the decision to mark my way with flagging tape and carried on going, with the hope that one of these roads would start heading west…. After a couple of hours I noticed a plume of smoke way off to my right and parked the truck and hiked off to investigate. Not far from the road I stumbled upon a small shack with goats standing around and someone cooking out the back. After a few minutes of my bad Spanish I established I had indeed gone way wrong and needed to back track. I thanked the kind guy for his patience and jumped back in the truck to follow my markers backwards, and found the right turn. Sweet. I had only been on the right dirt road for a matter of minutes when I saw what appeared to be a shiny black paved road in the distance.” It couldn’t be!” I thought, but minutes later I was crawling down the steep bank onto a brand-new, lush, smooth , paved road complete with a signpost pointing to my destination!!!! YES!!! I pulled over, got a beer out of my cooler and with the tunes cranked I threw my maps onto the seat and raced off into the late afternoon sun.

      The town of San Juanico is a one – road. dusty outpost that has only had water for a few years, and still gets its power from a diesel generator.. There is little in the way of vegetation save for a few cacti but as people raced past me on old quadbikes with boards on the roof, I instantly took a liking to this quirky little fishing village in the middle of no-where. I trundled through town until I found the track out to the campsite. This place is great, I love it, my favorite place to camp on my trip so far… The road winds through the low dunes and pops out on top of the bluffs, right on top of the surf..The sun was getting low and it was getting cool as I parked up on the point and set up camp. As I was setting up my tent and piling rocks on the pegs, to stop it blowing over the cliff, a couple of guys came over and welcomed me with an ice-cold beer. Just what the doctor ordered! They turned out to be part of a crew of firefighters from San Diego, down here to catch a few waves and drink a few beers! These guys were legends. Later on that evening I wandered over to their trailer and we traded stories over a few cold ones. These guys had been coming here for years and had their camping set-up dialed! Over the next week these guys basically adopted me and invited me over for dinner, beers, or a game of ” Liars Dice” on a regular basis. It seemed like most of the people camping down here were from San Diego and a more friendly campsite you couldn’t find. Lots of people here thought It was unbelievable that I had made it so far in my rusty old truck, and many family’s insisted that I joined them for dinner. In my first 6 days here I only cooked dinner for myself once! 

    

Scorpion Bay, lining up ...

Scorpion Bay is made up of 6 points that poke out from the cliffs like teeth on a comb.. The waves start to break way out there, with third and fourth point being fast short board waves, and second and first point being classic long board waves. The wave here is perfect. It just peels to perfection and is the longest wave I’ve ever seen. The problem with this place is its geography. The bay faces almost due South and is so well protected that swell (waves) coming from the west or north don’t make it in here. It needs a really strong South Swell to work properly and as such doesn’t break in all its glory very often… But I was not complaining, as the first morning I awoke to see smooth, glassy, waist-high waves peeling down the line. I dragged out my long board and paddled out. I set up right on second point and looking up to my right I had a good view of my camp, which is a source of comfort when you are solo out here. The one thing that I wasnt used to here were the crowds. There were a lot of people here and It took me a while to adjust as it had been a long time since I had surfed anywhere this busy… I took my place in the line up and got chatting while waiting for a set. Turns out that there had been no waves at all before today so people were chomping at the bit to get stuck in. The heads of the pack picked off their waves and it became my turn, I wheeled around and slid my board underneath me and paddled hard, I felt the familiar lift of my board planing and popped up into a great wave. This wave just walls up in front of you and is like a machine. I have been trying to walk my board and get a nose-ride for ages now and this was the perfect wave to practice on.. I progressed a great deal in my time here as I was camped in the perfect spot to watch skilled longboarders walk to the nose to perform the impossible. A nose ride is where you turn onto the face of the wave and walk foot over foot to the nose , balancing there as the breaking wave weighs down the back of your board like a cantilever… It’s VERY hard and to watch people who have honed their craft is a beautiful thing. I’ll get it one day!

Me, with the New York Yankees... Well, sort of... San Juanico were smacking dingers!

     The days passed here with a smooth contentment and If I wasnt surfing perfect waves in the sun, I was sitting in the shade with a cold beer and a good book. My camp set-up was brilliant and with the donation of a big piece of plastic grass, I had myself a nice little living room complete with coffee table. I also set about making myself a small rock fireplace to cook on, as I had ran out of gas again. I am so used to cooking this way now that I sometimes prefer it . I met some great folk here and had many boozy nights round campfires ,with Tequila drinking and storytelling being the main agenda…

So, people left and people arrived, and slowly the swell started to build.. Word was going round that a hurricane was sitting off the coast of Cabo San Lucas and with a bit of luck, would send a BIG swell our way the next day.. People started to batten down the hatches and tie everything down in preparation for the wind… I had a massive dinner and went to bed early listening to the storm beginning to stir… At around 3am I woke with the wind howling outside, and my open vent had filled my tent with fine sand . I jumped out and started banging in pegs and placing huge rocks on my stuff to stop it ending up in the sea. I stuffed some earplugs in and slept till dawn, and when I awoke the place was absolutely firing!! It was incredible. I threw on a wet-suit as it felt cold, grabbed my shorter board, and ran off to get amongst it. This session did not go well!! Firstly, the water was not cold and I was roasting in my suit .. Secondly, the current was horrific, and with so much water sweeping round the bay it took me 30 minutes to reach the line up!! I was so tired that the first wave I caught I fell off, and just rode the whitewater all the way back in.

As living-room views go, this ones not bad...

Ok, rethink. I went back and stripped off my suit and ate some more food. An old guy watching from the cliffs assured me that the current would be much easier in a few hours so I should try then. As I sat disheartened, drinking coffee, a local kid came out of nowhere and carrying his board disappeared over the cliff right in front of me! I jogged over to the edge to see him carefully climbing down the cliff. He then proceeded to wait for a lull in the waves and jumped off the rocks, getting to the line up in a matter of seconds!!  Nice. As he came back round I asked if it was hard? he said ” No, follow me!”. Sod it I thought, nothing ventured and all that…. I nervously placed my foot over the edge, fully aware that a 20ft fall onto sharp rocks with my board would be disastrous . After a few heart stopping moments I was standing on the wet rocks staring a huge wave in the face. It looked impossible but as the water dropped he shouted ” Now!” and I dived into a small channel and paddled for my life… Half a minute later , and with bleeding feet,I was in the line up! Yes! It was still like a treadmill out there but I had cut out a good half an hours paddling… As a set came he picked off the second wave and I was lined up for the next. It was really big, but looked perfect and as I felt the wave lift me, I popped up. I dropped in and raced down the face to make my bottom turn. As I turned up onto the face I looked ahead at the most perfect wave I’ve ever seen . I raced up to the lip and dropping my shoulder, turned back down the face feeling the water spitting behind my ear and made another great bottom turn to race off down the face… This wave went on forever and as I kicked out at first point, I was screaming my head off !!!…. What a wave!! I want another one now!!!

Local guy connecting the points and finding the green room...

   I had a great day and finally after countless perfect waves and with arms like spaghetti, I caught one in . My camp was a perfect view-point and people had gathered to watch the show, and grabbing a few cold beers I climbed onto the roof of my truck to cheer people on. People were taking off way out at fourth point and if the wave was big enough they would get all the way near second point. Here the wave would barrel and if they were lucky and skillful enough, they would make it round the rocks, connect with second point, and disappear off towards first point. It was AMAZING to watch and every time someone made it , people would cheer and whistle and all the cars lining the cliffs would beep their horns….  Great stuff.

   

Happy days - good waves...

 That night I slept like a baby and awoke to perfect Scorpion Bay. Big, clean, perfect waves lining up. The wind had all but disappeared and you just couldn’t get better waves. I had the time of my life that day and caught some incredible waves. I paddled out for an evening sesh and tried my luck at a deeper take off with a chance of a barrel . I took a beating and got dragged across the rocks a few times. One wave fully closed out on me, and the lip hit me so hard in the head that I did a full sideways somersault before I hit the water!  Over the next day or so the swell dropped off and it was time for me to think about leaving. There are two ways out of Scorpion Bay, one is back the way that I had come, which would send me 200 miles in the wrong direction , and the other is the infamous ” North Road”.

    This route was legendary and the source of many a campfire story. It leaves the town of San Juanico and heads N/W until it becomes open salt flats with the ocean to the left and scrub land and mesas to the right . If you manage to find the right way you end up in the town of San Ignacio roughly 4 hrs later. Well that doesn’t sound too hard right? I decided to badger a few old hands for directions and after a truly confusing hour I left their van with a hand drawn map that looked like the inside cover of a ” Harry Potter ” book and some written directions, one being … ” Carry on for about 30 miles keeping the sea on your left and look for a small blue arrow pointing right” !!!  HA!, shouldn’t be too hard to find a 6 inch blue arrow amongst 100 miles of open desert!!!

My trusty map, straight out of a " Harry Potter" book ...

      So, I started packing down and went off to town for some supplies. As I drove around looking for diesel I became increasingly worried as nobody seemed to have any. It turned out the whole town was dry of diesel and there wouldn’t be any for days, bloody great. I had half a tank  and 20 litres on the roof. Would that be enough? One thing everyone was in agreement on is that you DONT want to run out of fuel out there as you may see no one for days, if your lucky. Right, ok… After a hectic hour looking for a guy on a yellow motor bike(?) who apparently had some I was directed to the beach to find a guy called ” Santo”. I got there and some kind of festival was in full swing and the man in question was judging some kind of tug”o”war involving lobster pots. I approached him and before I spoke he knew who I was and what I wanted, and pointed to a group of ladies cooking in a tent… I walked over and sure enough one of them produced 30 litres of diesel in a big Jerry can!! Genius!! I payed them and thanked them and wandered off marvelling at the wonderfully hap-hazard way things down here always seem to work out in the end. I had dinner with some friends and crawled into my tent for my last sleep in this great place. 

   I awoke in the dark and started to strike camp. As luck would have it I lost my keys and after a frantic hour and emptying my truck , I found them – right where I had left them! I grabbed a quick shower and as the sun began to water down the darkness I headed out-of-town, excited for the road ahead…

       

The long road ahead. Getting onto the " salt flats" somewhere north of San Juanico, praying I didnt break down!..

The directions I had were absolutely spot on and a few hours later I found the track down onto the salt-flats… What a place!!! With the flat top mesas on my right, the horizon to my left disappeared in a twinkling white glare. It was dead flat and looked like it had snowed over night. I got out and scooped up some of the sea-salt that gave this scene its surreal appearance, and with the beating sun and no wind , I felt a million miles away from anything.  I jumped back in the truck and raced off into this weird wilderness… The surface was so smooth you could go 80k no problem, and in no time at all I was scanning the surface for a little blue arrow. Bizarrely I found it easily and just as I’m getting a little cocky about my amazing navigational skills, I realized I was lost. I had missed the track I needed and instead of heading up to the right, I was heading back down onto the salt flats. I decided to turn around and as I spun the truck onto what looked like hard crust, my wheels sank and I lurched, nearly rolling over. I got out and with my wheels half buried and nothing to attach my winch to, I let more air out of my tires and locked the hubs. I threw it in low 4 and hey presto! crawled out no problem. The Japanese really knew how to make trucks back in the 80′s!…. So after waiting at a dirt crossroads for an hour or so, a dust cloud came barreling towards me from the south. I waved to the guy and he waved back and nearly raced past me thinking I was just being friendly! In really fast spanish I got the jist he wanted me to follow him, and before I was back in my truck he was roaring off into the dust.. I followed him to the weirdest little town where he waved and took off. I cruised through this ramshackle fishing camp in the middle of nowhere ,with dogs trying to bite my tires and a group of screaming kids trying to hang off the wing-mirror. I stopped and gave them all the change and surf stickers that I had, and drove around until I found the road I was Looking for… Nice. After another hour of bone shaking , truck destroying washboard , the road became paved and I ambled into San Ignacio…. I grabbed some tacos and a cold six pack, gassed up and jumped on the road to my destination that day – Guerra Negro… As the shadows grew long I pulled into a nice little hotel, dumped my bags, cracked a beer and sat on the big comfy bed catching up on the news, relieved to be there.

Whale skeleton, San Ignacio....

I awoke feeling refreshed , and after a great breakfast with good coffee I pointed north and got going. This drive is a long stretch of nothingness and It takes all your concentration to not go off the road, and with the sun beating down and my lack of air-con , I made regular pit stops to stretch the legs.  After gassing up in El Rosario and having some amazing fish tacos at Mama Espinoza’s I hunched over the wheel and plodded on towards Tijuana and the border… I was running out of light and decided to make for a little hostel I knew just south of Ensenada called Coyote Cals. Will and I had stayed here on the southbound leg and with weary eyes and a sore back, I pulled into this cool little refuge on the sea

So, here I sit, my Mexican adventure nearly over, and as I think of the smooth roads and bug-free sleeps north of the border, I feel a pang of sadness. I have had the time of my life down here , a true adventure, and I will miss it – but, as Bob Marley once said ” When one door is closed, anther is open” and my adventure is not over, just starting a new chapter. There are many more waves to be had and stories yet to unfold, and I look forward to being with my sweetheart and seeing friends and family, and of course not checking your bed for scorpions every night will be kind of nice!

     

 So folks, that’s all from me for now. Thanks again to one and all for reading my story, and hope it entertains and inspires somewhat and doesn’t bore you to tears! Thanks to all those kind souls who gave me their time with directions and knowledge , I wouldn’t be here without you! Thanks to Jocelyn Nathe for some of the photos on this post, and thanks- be to all the angels out there who keep on donating to my GAS fund, I’m stunned by your kindness. Take care and look after each other, and remember what old Abe’ Lincoln once said ” … In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count, it’s the life in your years .”  Till the next time, Neil.

Frank Sinatra, Flipper’s cousin’s and the ghost of Jack Kerouac…

I’m writing this in my little cabin aboard the Baja Princess, on route from Mazatlan to La Paz…..

So I think I left off on arrival into Escondido…… Well, Our time in Escondido was great. We checked into a cool little hostel right on the beach. It consisted of a series of little bungalows hidden amongst the palm trees. The surf breaks here consist of the world-famous, death on a stick barrels of Zicatela and a slightly less hairy left out front of our place. With the way the swell was ,even the left was huge and with that much water moving round and far better surfers than me sitting it out, we decided to head up the coast a bit to find a point wave I was told was working … This break was cool. About 10 mins from where we were staying and about 200 steps down the cliff was a little cove with a right and a left. By the time we got there the wind had got on it and it was junk. I still paddled out but more for exercise than anything…. It was a really nice beach though and Lauren was happy to lay out and top up her sun-burn!

Ahoy there matey! ...Do I look tanned yet??, Tanorexia, Sayulita.

That evening I started to have terrible stomach pains and knew this was not the usual Montezuma’s revenge and had an agonizing night without a wink of sleep. I decided to go and find a doctor , after surfing of course! I went back to this little cove at dawn while Lauren slept and had a great session. The tides were just right and the water was glassy. Nothing massive but nice shoulder-high faces in crystal clear water… It always clears my head and cleanses the soul ( What a hippy!) After brekky we found a doctor who spoke great English and I gave him my , Ahem ,samples and he sent me off to get some blood taken. The end result was parasites. Nice. Basically worms that live in your belly and give you a lot of pain… The bonus with the lack of rules down here is that you can get wickedly strong drugs over the counter, and within 48hrs I was feeling human again.. With Laurens sunburn reaching a new level and her stomach being bad, we decided to hit the road North to Acapulco…

Hanging with the stars.. Hotel Miramar.. ( why does it look like I lost a leg?!)

Acapulco was once the playground of the rich and famous and everyone from Sinatra to Gary Busy have partied hard here, but these days there is little to warrant its nickname of ” Jewel of the Pacific” and with its highrise slums and high-profile gang slayings, most of its charm has long since crumbled away.. But they still do that cliff diving thing right?! With the nice places to stay here being too expensive and the cheap places being to dodgy, we opted for its little brother ” Pie de La cuesta” … A once bustling fishing and tourist spot, this spit of land just south of Acapulco resembled Blackpool in England or Coney Island in New york or any other long forgotten about spot. We stayed at a place I had visited on my way south owned my a flamboyant frenchie stuck in the eighties… Laurens stomach took a turn for the worse and I decided enough was enough and called a doctor. With out doing any tests there was no way to know for sure but she seemed positive it was the dreaded parasites. But there are lots of different types and my advice is always give them a sample, the truth is always in the poo! Lauren was in so much pain there didn’t seem time to wait for pills to work so I talked her into the injection. As the doctor started filling a HUGE syringe I wished I hadn’t. I’m not kidding this thing could have taken down a horse! After about 15mins of plunging about a pint of liquid into her butt cheek, the pain died down and she finally got some sleep….

Over the next day or so as Lauren rested and I became restless ,the mother of all thunderstorms hit. Apparently it was the tail end of a hurricane and it just hammered down for 3 straight days. On our last night there Lauren was feeling much better and we headed into Acapulco to catch the cliff divers at the Hotel Miramar…. This was a great place oozing with history, many famous people had dined here and the walls were adorned with signatures and photographs.. After dinner, and in the pouring rain, the divers first scaled the cliffs and then dived off them- bunch of nutters if you ask me! Amazing to watch but with the weather worsening, they called it a day and came inside to do some weird half Native, half Hawaiian dance.. in, er, Mexico!
The next day with the storm lifting we decided to take advantage of this break in the weather to make the long drive to our next port of call –Troncones…

" If the roof's a'rock'in, don't come knockin' ! Saladitas....

This is a great little spot. It would seem that an American had developed the place many years ago and the beach front is mainly taken up with hippy yoga lodges ,where you can drink 5 dollar juices and get your chi lined up ( although their food was the best I’d tasted in months so I shouldn’t make fun!) Anyways , the little surf lodge I knew of was closing down for the rainy season, as was most of this coast, so we looked around and scored a real bargain on a beach front room with an amazing view .. There is a great left point a stone’s throw away and I was excited to surf it.. Unfortunately it did not comply, so the next morning at day break I jumped in the truck and headed up the coast to a beach break I had surfed. Last time I was here the tide was way out and we drove down the beach with ease but as I inched the beast down the steep stone slipway to the beach it looked like a whole different ball game..

     I nervously drove down the beach hugging the pebble bank with water lapping at my wheels until I reached a point which looked impassable. I jumped out the truck and ran up to the only house for advice. The elderly chap swinging in the hammock spoke pretty good Spanglish and told me is was makeable, as the tide was on the drop, all I needed to do was to get past a series of pebble points that stuck out into the sea. Right. Easy. I looked at where he was pointing and the sea would recede for about 3 seconds and then completely cover the pebbles! Your having a laugh old man, No way ! But, after about 10 mins and a bit of macho back slapping he had me convinced, after all you’ve got to respect your elder’s right? I nervously crept forward and as the water sucked back out I gunned it round the first point and then slammed on the brakes. No worries. The sea ran out again and I repeated this action with the same success but as I gunned it round the third point I looked left and saw a wall of water coming at me… SHIT!!! I tried to get as high up as I could but the wave hit me full on sending buckets of water through my open window and freeing my grip on the sand. All at once the truck lifted and lurched sideways.. That’s it I thought, I’m going to lose my truck in the sea but as the water raced back out ,my wheels made contact with the sand and I floored it.. With a groaning sound and water everywhere, I raced round the point and flew down the hard sand to safety! Crazy old Bast%$td!, that’s the last time I listen to you!.. I drove for another couple of KS and looked out to see nice A-frame peaks breaking right and left…. Sweet. I parked up and paddled out for a great session. I felt like I really progressed that day, catching some great waves , reading the sections well and even throwing in a few cut-backs… Adreneline high, I jumped back in my truck and with the water receding had a cruisy drive back , woke Lauren up and went for breakfast.

" Lippy" and I getting our beauty sleep....

After breakfast  we jumped in the beast and headed up the coast an hour or so to the easy, peeling left point break of Saladitas…Just like everywhere else it was dead ,and with the good weather we decided to camp. This was Laurens first experience in the roof-top tent and she was stoked to see it up. It used to take a bit of time to erect ( ooo missus!) but these days its up in the blink of an eye! It really is a kick ass invention and you should all get one from www.beastgear.com…( I expect royalties Gord!)..  Saladitas is a very chilled little place and as Lauren adopted the local dogs and chickens and gave them my Doritos, I paddled out for a good session. This is a great wave when its good and with the swell being at just the right angle and about head-high, it was a GREAT long board wave. I have been really trying to improve my foot work on my long board and this was a good place to try new things..
After a day or two we were keen to move on.. This was a tense time for me as I was responsible for taking Lauren into the Michoacan.

This state is home to some really nice waves and some not-so-nice Banditos. A lot of weed is grown in this state and this stretch of the Mex 200 has a colorful history of bandito roadblocks and kidnappings. In my opinion the days of constant robberies and murder are a thing of the past, but still. A guy I know who goes by the name of” Kiwi Dave” lost a good friend here. Apparently sick of constant roadblocks he decided not to stop and gunned his truck through, and as he passed by they opened fire and shot him through his seat.

      So the dangers are out there but if there is one good thing to come out of the recent drug war , it’s that the military presence here is so strong I think it deters the highway robbers. That, and the drug cartels themselves. One cartel that dominates the Michoacan coastline will not put up with petty crime, their motto being “ Only those who deserve to die, will die”. The thought is they don’t need the heat from petty crime and rule with an iron fist. One example we were told of happened up and around La Ticla.. Somebody apparently robbed a local family, poor themselves. This robber was found some days later, washed up on the beach with a message in a zip-lock bag, and his gun stuffed down his throat. The message read “ We mean what we say”… So in a twisted kind of way I felt safer. I kept these stories from Lauren as not to freak her out , I think she was very brave and adventurous to be doing this road trip and although I think the risk is very small nowadays, it’s still there.

Working hard as allways, Rio Nexpa...

We got on the road early and made good time arriving at Nexpa in the early afternoon. This place was a ghost town compared to the last time I was here, but there were still people about, and as the swell started to pick up they emerged from the woodwork. The good thing about the rainy season is you can  get great cheap accommodation. We met a nice English woman called Helen who rented us a tumble stick cabaña on the beach and I loved it. I set up my stove in there and we had a nice little home for a few days, but, you just can’t avoid the wildlife. On the first night we had a visit from a big rat. Lauren and I have differing views on how to handle this problem! I now carry a “ Humane” trap in my truck to catch these blighter’s and a blob of peanut butter and a Oreo later, the spring went BANG! Jobs a good’un.

     The swell really picked up and I had a GREAT dawn session there. I got chatting to an old-timer in the line up and It turns out he was the first person EVER to surf a wave on the opposite coast called “ Salsa Brava”. This wave is heavy and hairy and breaks over shallow razor-sharp reef, Google it. Quite the achievement.

     With another remote , empty surf location I could tell Lauren was feeling the strain. This was not her bag. Why would it be? If you didn’t surf there is no reason to come to these places, and although that’s what I came to do, I was realizing more and more she was putting on a brave face for me. She was still sick and I was dragging her to all these mozzie riddled, roach infested shitholes so I could get good waves.. I decided there and then that we should just gun it up the coast and get to the bright lights of Puerto Vallarta and an air-conditioned room with flush toilets and showers and such.  We got chatting to Helen and she informed us that because of the heavy rains the bridge was out further north and the road to our next stop, La Ticla was impassable . Great. We stayed one more night and in the morning I got chatting to someone in the line-up who was convinced the road was fixed. Good enough for us and we packed the truck and hit the road.

Lauren snapped another board, Jesus could she surf!

The road between Nexpa and Ticla is that of legends , the notorious “ Bandito Highway” and I just kept the music loud and my foot on the gas. After many tense hours of winding hills and towering cliff tops, we descended to the river mouth that is La Ticla. La Ticla is an amazing wave but on arrival it was not really working and with the accommodation being camping on the beach( ill advised here) and a flea ridden , damp smelling room that was well overpriced, I made the decision to keep going and try to make it to a place called Pasquales, where I knew a guy we could stay with. It was do-able before dark, just.

      Pascuales is legendary. On my way south this place was firing and guys were getting towed into massive gaping barrels but on arrival this time we were greeted by a much tamer animal. After  a cruise up and down the beach we found the man in question, the legend that is Kiwi Dave, unsurprisingly talking and drinking with a bunch of Kiwis! These pro-surfers and photographers had been waiting for the wave to start working but mother nature was on another schedule. They had been here a week, and with no sign of a big swell they had decided to head home. Fickle thing surfing, you can only plan so much and then you’re at the mercy of the ocean. With Dave’s place being full we found a cheap room and set about a rummy competition , which I won.  Lauren then decided it was now or never and grabbed some guys 6’1 and paddled into the wave of the day! ( only one of these scenarios is true.!)
In the morning with it raining and with even small Pasquales being too heavy for me, we decided to keep’er’pinned and try to make it to Puerto Vallarta in a day… After saying goodbye to Dave we grabbed   a  coffee and hit the road. This was a tricky , long drive and after about 8 straight hrs behind the wheel we pulled into Puerto Vallarta.

The impressive lobby at the Garza Blanca, Puerto Vallarta...

I felt a small sense of relief here as this place is as safe as Mexico gets, and I knew Lauren would love it here. The beaches here are pristine white sand with turquoise water calmly lapping over rocks that house all manner of marine life, great for snorkeling.
        I suggested we go and try to find a cheap hostel and Lauren put her dainty little foot down and said, no, we were not staying in any more fleabag rooms, she wanted ( and deserved ) a place free of bugs with air-con and clean towels at least! What we ended up doing was staying at the nicest place so far on the trip. It was called the ” Garza Blanca” and was palatial, go on, Google it and drool!

           This place was freaking unbelievable ,  and as we sat in the beautiful lobby in an exhausted daze ,we were handed raspberry margaritas and hot towels to wipe or faces with ( I guess)  This place was where people flew into and then flew home from, and as I jumped barefoot onto the roof of my rusty beaten-up truck and handed the bell-boy my surfboards, I got the feeling we were not their usual guests, especially when he hung around ( apparently wanting some cash ) and I just shook his hand and walked off! ( whatever  happened to just being nice?)

Rags to riches...." Bring me another Mojito Jeeves, and this time put some damn rum in it !"...

This place really was amazing though. They seemed to have thought of everything here and I instantly felt like a kid on Christmas day and kept saying “ Babe, look at these towels!” or “ Babe, look at that T.V!” Lauren just had a big content grin on her face and got straight in her swimsuit and hit the Infinity pool. We sipped fancy drinks and watched the sun go down over calm ocean….  We had many grand plans to explore town and get amongst it but we just ended up enjoying the fantastic hotel we were at… Lounging by the pool reading, napping in a hammock or snorkeling round the rocks…. After a few glorious days it was time to get back on the road, but not very far as our next ( and Laurens last) stop was a great little place just up the road that I knew very well, called Sayulita.

           Ahh, Sayulita ,my old friend.  On my way south I had been camped up here for over a month and had a riot and met some great folk….too many to list here. As we cruised around in the beast many great memories came flooding back of wild nights and funny days. We headed down to the campground I had stayed for so long, only to find a 100ft wall dividing the place into two and the beach bar gone. Rumour has it there had been a family feud and this was the result. BUM-er. Oh well, nothing lasts forever and as fate would have it we managed to score an amazing aircon room for little more than it would cost us to camp, result. Town was still charming but devoid of much life. The beach was almost deserted and the young travelling crowd was thin on the ground. A south swell was due in the night and as Sayulita faces pretty much due North, I woke at dawn and drove down the coast to a south-facing break I know called La Lanchas.

     This place was going OFF. I surfed pretty much solo for 4 hrs straight and had a great time. Lauren loved Sayulita. The beach is nice and safe, the town is friendly and the food is good. Another bonus for her is the amount of well cared for dogs around and on one tipsy afternoon she ordered an entire three course meal and fed it to the nearest stray dog! Bless her.

Buenos noches chica hermosa...

Sayulita never fails to please and we either  lay on beach, surfed or ate great food and generally just kicked back. After all the driving of the past month is was really nice for me to be on foot again for a while… But as with everything, all good things must come to an end. And as the week wore on, It dawned on me that my sweetheart was leaving in the morning .

     The next day I drove her to the airport and instead of it being a depressing drive, it was as funny and happy as usual, It was only as she was walking towards security that I felt a stab in my chest. I’m no good at goodbyes, so I just kissed her and told her I would see her soon. I miss her a great deal… I drove back to Sayulita in a daze and only then did hit me that I was alone. Oh well, if that’s the way its got be, then so be it.

Nice peaks, just 250 steps down the cliff....

It’s the little things you notice about being alone. Lots of things on the road( packing the truck, unloading boards, reversing(!)) have always been two person jobs but now its just me. Sometimes it sucks and I’m lonely, and then sometimes its great and fills me with raw spirit again. One such enlightening time happened a few days back and was one of the greatest moments of my trip. After leaving Sayulita I headed north to the mosquito infested and fickle surfbreak known as San Blass.

      The bugs in this place are truly miserable, no other word for it, and after setting up camp I decided to paddle out into the mediocre surf, if just to avoid the bugs. The swell was small and I surfing a waist-high right peak alone…. As I was sitting , staring at the horizon, daydreaming and waiting for a set-wave , something  stirred the glassy water about 100 yards in front of me . I thought it was a ray jumping but suddenly realized it was a fin, a big fin, and it was heading straight at me. It was at my 12’0’clock so to me it looked like the triangular dorsal fin of a shark…. It held its course and I froze and when it was within feet from the tip of my board it dived under me. The movement in the water nearly knocked me off my board. As it circled and surfaced 20 ft to my right I realized it was a big dolphin. Just then I noticed another way off to my left, then another and another. Within a minute there must have 20 or more dolphins cruising from left to right. They were not bothered by my presence one bit and started to play a game of tag all around me. One breached and when he splashed down the water hit me in the face..They cruised so close to me I could have reached out and touched their scarred, rubber-like skin. Then all at once theycircled me slowly and vanished. The water turned back to glass and I sat there stunned…

       its time like these that I know I did the right thing, that all the work, money and planning were worth it. I may get back to Vancouver with little more than a rusty truck, some beaten up surfboards and a tan, But it will have been worth every penny. Every wrong turn and bribe. Every bad stomach and sunburn, every fearful drive and sleepless night, all of it. Great stuff.

This guy was rock and roll, turns out he's a surfer. Would'nt want to drop in on him!

I packed up in the dark to beat the bugs and hit the road towards Mazatlan and the ferry to Baja. Everything was going great guns , I was hitting all the toll roads and making great time, I may even make that days ferry. Being Mexico though things don’t always go according to plan. As I hit yet another really expensive toll road it dawned on me that if I hit another one, and it was over 50 pesos, then I wouldn’t have enough to pay… I was mad at myself for not hitting up an ATM before leaving but I honestly thought I had enough to get to Mazatlan. So, I did hit another, and no, I didn’t have enough! Great. I’ll have to jump off and take the toll-free road. I’ll never make the ferry now. So the woman directs me to the “ Libre”. Another toll, weird? this can’t be right, I thought? The woman explained I would have to pay 80 pesos just to get off the highway! OK, but I don’t have 80 pesos, what do I do? , I asked her. She said I had to pay. I said ” I understand that, but I don’t HAVE 80 pesos.” She got really shirty and mumbled something about gringos ( I don’t think it would have helped to tell her I was English and not American) she then screamed at the security guard who ran over and told me to “ LEAVE!” leave where? That’s what im trying to do you muppet! He just pointed back down the highway, the way I’d come. OK, fine. I started to backtrack not knowing where I was going. I pulled over as I thought there was no exit at all, except the toll, 2hrs away in the wrong direction. The sun was blazing and with my brain boiling , I saw a bunch of guys up ahead working on the road. I pulled over and the one guy who spoke English told me it was 80 pesos to leave the highway, and there was no ATM. Yeah, I know that. “ I don’t have enough money” I told him. They all had a good laugh and then thought for a while, then they all started pointed at once and saying “ Bridge!”.. After a confusing 15 mins I left with a handwritten map to a dirt road that would, apparently, bypass the toll. Nice!.. I drove back the way I’d come until I found a bridge and pulled over. I found the dirt track they were on about and laughed as I looked down at more of a foot path that just fell off the side of the road. Oh well, I had no choice and I put the beast in 4wd and drove off into the bushes It was so steep I thought I might roll, but I made it to the field

Hard at work on the blog in a makeshift office somewhere, Cheers ! ...

below and onto somewhat of a road. I followed this across fields for ages and then the road split. I allways go left so followed this track and got completely lost!  It took me across some guys land and the workers in the fields just stared at me with unfriendly glares, this is not the area where you want to leave the beaten path and I just plodded on praying for a village of some kind. After about 30 mins my prayers were answered and I popped out in a village and asked directions to the free road. They obviously don’t see to many whiteys down here and looked at me like I was a madman! But, within 5 mins I was back on the right road, coffee in hand.

I rolled into Mazatlan at sunset and checked into a dirtbag hotel on the front, only to discover one my literary heroes, Jack Kerouac , had stayed here years before and even penned some of the book “ On The Road” here.. The room had a thick layer of dust and the running water was brown but It had a bed, and I just fell face down and slept like a baby. The next morning there was a lefthand wave working off the point, right out front so I grabbed my long board and paddled out and had a great little session. Surfing never fails to sort my head out and heading in refreshed, I packed up the truck and drove to the ferry…..Next stop – the wilds of Baja.

The Beast and I waiting for the ferry to Baja. It was so hot my brain was boiling in my skull...

So, here I sit in my little cabin, the deep rattle of the big diesel engines and the rise and fall of the ocean making me sleepy, so once again I’ll say goodbye for now.. I feel like I’m nearing the final chapter of this epic journey , but there is still SO much adventure ahead of me. Baja is such a crazy place with its wild deserts and empty waves , and then I’m off to Texas to find my girlfriend, meet her family and friends and ride horses and crack whips ! YEE-HAR!!!  From here we swap the truck for a 747 and jump across the pond for a week to see my family and friends and go to a mates wedding ( good luck Davey boy, Congratulations!!) Then we fly back out west, hop back in the beast and fire her up for the final leg up highway 1, back to Vancouver!!   So many great waves and sunsets still to be had and hopefully my trusty steed gets me all the way home…..

 
So thanks again for logging on when you could be watching “ Pop Idol” or something!, and thanks for all the donations and kind comments , there are some wonderful people in this world, and I have the good fortune of having some of them as my friends..look after each other and remember – ” Life is like a mirror – smile at it and it will smile back “. Till the next time, Neil.

Vipers , Volcanoes and the Elephant Man….

Well hello again,

I’m currently in Puerto Escondido, southern Mexico about to hit the road north, Its been a hectic time getting here so let me tell you all about it…

The crew in Tunco, rowdy bunch this lot ! ...

I think I left off last time in El Salvador where we were camping , and Liam has mostly filled you in about our time there so let me just tell you about our last days in the bush, then we’ll hit the road again…

As you know we had an amazing time at Punta mango, Really. But we out stayed our welcome. After the mother of all surf sessions, which I’m sure Liam has described, things went downhill muy rapido. I got bitten by a centipede on the back and while these little blighter’s are only about an inch long and look harmless,  they are not. I think our immune systems were worn out and we were already covered in insect bites and cuts and I felt like shit. I had a fever and no energy and we decided enough was enough and planned to leave the next day. If you didn’t know Liam is terrified of snakes. We were snoozing in our hammocks avoiding the mid day sun and I heard what sounded like one of the dogs getting into our food again.. I looked up as Liam jumped out of his hammock screaming ” Fu&% ! ” I looked over and there was a snake attacking a frog. It was rearing up and thrashing around inches from where Liam’s head had been! I grabbed my machete and lopped its head off, the frog limped off and Liam regained some color in his face. I can laugh about it now but at the time we just thought it was a sign. They told us there were lots of snakes but we just thought they were too rare to see. And I told Liam they were scared of people! Apparently not, and over the next few weeks I came across two Fer De Lance vipers , which are deadly, so they are not that rare either!…

Next day we bid farewell to Santo and headed for the luxury of a hotel room with Air Con to await the arrival of the Texas rangers. Over the next few days I got dramatically worse. My skin on my neck and chest came out in blisters and the pain was unbearable.. Sweet, I thought. My girlfriend arrives in 4 days and I look like the Elephant Man !  I tried various ” Doctors ” until I found one who actually had a certificate on the wall and shoes on his feet. He showed me photos of centipede bites on local kids and it was horrific. He said a few more days and I would have been in real trouble…. One ” Quack” thought it was herpes, and when I explained It was just Liam and I in the bush and there was no chance of that, she laughed her ass off ! So , with some heavy injections and a ton of pills I started to get better… thank God, because I was nearly on a plane home…

Anyways, all’s well that ends well and I was getting better. Lesson learned. The next week was great… we were surfed out and it was really nice to just kick back , eat food and drink boozy cocktails in the swanky las Flores resort… I didn’t want to leave. Unfortunately Liam and Courtney got a dose of the Montezuma’s and were laid up in bed for a day..at least that was their excuse!… our time in Las Flores, and Liam and Courtney’s time in El Salvador drew to an end… We packed up the beast and headed for the aireopuerto. We said our goodbyes and as they strolled off to the bar I was very sad to see him leave, he had become like my brother; but I knew this was not the last we would see of him.. Greenhorn part 2 - Indonesia, is already in the pipeline …

A guy selling dyed chicks (?)

So Lauren and I finally hit the road together! Firstly let me just say its been great.. really. I think sometimes she is out of her element over here but you could never tell. She doesn’t bat an eyelid when men with machine guns search the truck looking for drugs and guns and when it comes to the mayhem of border crossings, she is cool as a cucumber. Having a level head and buckets of patience is a must for staying safe in this part of the world and I feel very lucky to have found a beautiful woman who has both. Also, she is the worlds greatest map reader and never, ever gets her left and right muddled up! (wink,wink!)

We headed back to Las Flores and checked into a little hotel for a few days so my skin could heal and we could prepare for the road North. As luck would have it, as I was getting better , poor Lauren got sick. Its horrible being ill down here and I really felt for her. After a few days of rest and recoup we hit the road , next stop El Tunco.. With us both still feeling less than great , camping was off the agenda. Sometimes you cant stick to your plan and you just have to deal with it the best way you can ,and sometimes you just need to be in a room with air-con. And this was one of those times… the feeling of walking into air-con after driving all day with burning skin and bubbling stomachs was amazing, and we just lay there for hours!  After a day or so we felt lots better and had met a great crew of people and decided to celebrate our new-found health by playing drinking games and getting right on it! Victor and Jude and the lads from the States made up our crew and pretty soon it was like a circus and as boys will be boys , a drunken wrestling match in a cactus patch ensued. Classic stuff . ( See you guys in Baja!)

I was still in pain and had to stay out of the sun. Which sucks down here. I still managed to get a few decent surf sessions in but my head was not really in the game. We decided some time out of the blazing sun would do us both good and we headed inland to find a National park… After a hectic drive in a rainstorm ( Me asking Lauren what every road sign said, she pointing out that she couldn’t see as I had only one windscreen wiper !)  and a sketchy climb into the clouds , we found some kind of ” eco-lodge ” ( which usually just means they have crappy solar power and don’t want to waste water to wash your towels!). it was a cool location though with rustic cabins clinging to the mountainside and animals swinging and shrieking everywhere but the place was a little spooky and as the rain hammered down and night fell , it reminded us of the film ” The Shining” and to complete our paranoia, we found out we were the only guests! … ” Here’s Johnny !!!!! “  but, apart from the bugs and the massive rat, ( which Lauren wanted to feed?!)  it really was nice… In the morning as Lauren slept I took off to explore.. I found a stone stair case leading down the ravine and followed it all the way down to some kind of natural stone plunge pool. The water was ice-cold and clean and there were all kinds of parrots flying around..It looked like a scene from an Indiana Jones movie and after a freezing bath I headed up to load the truck and hit the road…

Just what you want to see on your motel room wall !....

With our sights set firmly on the Guatemalan border , we bounced down the mountain road dodging horses and dogs and trying not to look over the side, which fell away hundreds of feet to the valley below. Border crossings down here take a long time and in my experience its best to hit them in the early morning with a clear head, that way you avoid the midday heat and give yourself enough time to make it through and find somewhere safe to lay your weary head, as border areas are always dodgy. So we decided to post up in a little hotel and get up at the crack of dawn.. We found a half decent looking ” Auto Hotel ” and got a room. Within minutes the heavens opened and a massive rainstorm hit. As we were wondering what to do, our question was sharply answered from above - change rooms!!  Big chunks of plaster and a steady stream of water came pouring through the roof onto the bed, I made bad jokes about it being a water-bed , and at least we could take a shower while we slept etc, but Lauren wasn’t impressed and we moved our stuff to another room.  This room was decent enough, at least it seemed watertight and as we were picking out a movie to watch , Lauren noticed that the only decoration adorning the walls was a sex education poster depicting the correct use of a condom !!! Nice… Things then started to make sense… The fact the manager seemed surprised we wanted the room for the whole night, the fact that a couple arrived, stayed an hour, and left etc… We had unknowingly checked ourselves into a El Salvadoran knocking shop ! It was too late and wet to find another place so we just laughed about it, got a massive pizza, watched a funny movie and slept with our clothes on ! !

Coffee plantation, Guatemala.

Next morning we left the house of ill-repute and headed for the border… As we approached customs a “ street rat “ appeared at my window and asked , where we were going and if we needed help etc… I was about to ignore him and decline his ” help ” when I realized he was the same guy who had helped Ian and I cross many months ago on our way south. I thought It wouldn’t hurt to show him our papers. He took one look and then said we had ” Big problem ”. I just thought- here we go again. Most of these chislers just make up ” problems ” that they can ” Help ” you with for tons of money. What usually happens is that their friend is the official and they are both in on the scam and split the pot. But, in this case he was right, I did have ” Big problem “. One of the problems with doing a trip of this magnitude is all the paperwork. You have to have this paper and that paper with this stamp or that stamp, add the language barrier and sometimes things go tit’s up. He took one look at the stamp on my Vehicle Import Permit and told me it had expired. Not good. I checked it and true enough I was a month late. Shit ! He informed me that I would have to pay around 1000 dollars US ; or at the least they would take my truck, and I then remembered being told this on my way south. Bugger!. I told Lauren, and either she didn’t understand the gravity of the situation or she is just super cool under pressure , but she just said ” don’t worry baby , it’ll be fine ” . Right , OK ,so now we had to cross the border with forged vehicle papers, a forged licence and an expired permit ! ! Visions of dirty prison cells and fights in the shower filled my head as I nervously handed over my “ Toy’s”R”us “ papers. I was sweating like a scouser in court when an hour later, and to my total gob-smacking  surprise we somehow got handed a fresh permit and an open gate into the country!

We waved to the Army checkpoint and raced along with huge smiles and high spirits. We pulled over and grabbed the obligatory cold six-pack and headed up into the mountains to find the colonial city of Antigua. As we wound our way up the foothills going slower than a horse and cart, Mother Nature decided the drive was’nt interesting enough and threw a huge thunderstorm into the mix. I could barely see with my one shitty wiper and just gritted my teeth and leaned over the wheel .. Just as I thought we were going to be caught in the dark , the storm passed and the gloom lifted revealing a really cool looking city perched high between two massive volcanoes… Lauren found us a nice cheap hotel and after many laps of the city’s one-way system we arrived at a rustic little place with the rooms hidden in amongst the plants, low ceilings and wrought iron. We had a great few days up here being total tourists, this was also our chance to eat at some nice restaurants and enjoy really good coffee before we went back to Nes-cafe and suspect looking chicken… It was great to be away from the heat and I even got to wear jeans and shoes -  it’s very weird what makes you happy sometimes ! After visiting a handful of the 30 or so ancient churches and old fallen down buildings, we pulled up some stools at a little snug Mescal bar and got stuck in. Mescal is like tequilla only stronger and worse tasting! But it gets the job done and an hour later Lauren was inebriated enough for me to beat her at cards ! .  There were lots of travellers in this place and I could see why, it’s the perfect mix of cultures with people settling here from all over the globe and lots of good food and drink… After a few days we were both feeling much better and adventure beckoned so we descended back to the coast with Mexico on our minds…

With the sun shining and the tunes cranked the road is truly a great place to be – you never know what you will encounter next and as we rounded a corner we saw a sign saying ” Safari park this way - we have Giraffes “. Well, you can’t pass that up can you?! We cruised on down a dirt track and came to a little hut, paid our dues and were soon face to face with the king of the jungle. Unlike most country’s, ( I would imagine as I’ve never been to a safari park) you could drive right through the enclosures and there were no fences between you and lions, buffalo, monkeys, hippos, emu’s and all kinds of other weird animals. I had never seen a Giraffe in the flesh and just stared dumbfounded at the weirdest looking animal. We wound our way round the park, grabbed a burger and hit the road. I think my highlight was watching Lauren jumping up and down like a monkey saying ” Look , he understands me! “. Comedy gold right there.

Weirdest animal ive seen on the trip!..

By the time we were near the Mexican border the shadows were long and we pulled into a weird-looking motel to get papers ready and get some sleep. I swam in the pool while Lauren made friends with all the animals . For some reason they had two monkeys and a racoon (?) in cages and ignoring the guard with loaded shotgun, Lauren shook hands with the monkeys and tried to play stick with the racoon. Her love for all Gods creatures means we can’t pass a stray dog or cat without her petting it and giving it half our (my) lunch ! It really is heartbreaking sometimes as the roads are littered with dead and dying dogs, and the way most people treat the animals down here is very cruel. We awoke refreshed and after a quick coffee we hit the border.  This border was a breeze compared to the rest and after a search of the truck we were on Mexican soil looking for the Aduana. The “Aduana” is the place you get your all important vehicle import permit and is usually at the border, this one was not . We managed to use our Spanglish and find out that it was in a town an hour or so down the road, so off we went.

One thing that separates Mexico from the rest of central America is the military presence. For years now rival drug cartels have been fighting a bloody battle for territory and this is represented by the high numbers of Humvees cruising up and down the highways with masked soldiers, machine guns at the ready. But enough of all that scary stuff, Mexico kicks ass. It’s a great country filled with (mostly) friendly people , great food and epic waves. So don’t belive the hype, keep your head down and your nose clean , and you’ll have a great time here.

Liam and Court's , Arn't they cute? Las Flores...El Salvador.

We approached the Aduana and right on cue it started raining. I say raining but it was more like buckets of water being dumped on your head… I jumped out the truck with my papers and was instantly soaked. The shop where I was trying to photo copy my passport flooded, and was soon like a swimming pool with packets of cookies floating about. As is typical with this neck of the woods they had changed the rules – again. I now had to pay 200 dollars US to prevent me selling my truck in Mexico, apparently I get it back when I leave ( believe that when I see it!) This seemed backward to me but what can you do? Just smile and pay the man.

Waiting for a lull , Escondido.

So here we were in Mexico with the light fading fast and the rain like golf balls, Lauren decided she wanted to stay in a nice hotel room, her treat. Well, you can’t argue with that can you?, and half an hour later we were checked into the Holiday Inn. It was lush, nicest room I’ve stayed in on the trip so far. With a huge pristine bug-free bed and a bathroom so big you could play squash in it, we were in heaven. With the wind howling and the rain lashing outside, I was double glad we were not camping ! This place had everything, and what with all the sitting and driving and lack of surfing , we headed down to the gym to sweat it out. As we all know the best thing for you after a workout is a few beers right??  We lay wrapped in fresh towels and watched NON dubbed movies on a huge plasma screen telly, swigging ice-cold Pacifico’s ; it really is a tough life sometimes !. The next day we ( I ) awoke and took full advantage of the free brekkie, and after eating my own body weight in food , we hit the road - next stop Puerto Escondido.

Well nearly , my truck is really slow and as all 4 cylinders ( yep, 4! ) worked overtime in the heat, it was obvious we  would have to make a few stops on the way, so we headed for some sleepy forgotten-about fishing village whose name escapes me. We found a campground owned by a friendly but weird Canadian (aren’t they all?!) from  Taa-Ranna ( Torronto). He had been there for 30 yrs (god knows why) and was content to just mooch about and smoke ciggys. He had some cheap cabana’s dotted amongst the palms and as we wanted to leave the truck packed and be on the road early, we rented one. As we were sitting under our palapa porch I looked up to see a huge cluster of bats hanging there. Now I love animals, but bats? Lauren loved them and told me they were cute. Nothing cute about a rabies carrying rat with wings, especially as I had declined my rabies shot at 800 dollars a pop!  I lit a fire and cooked up some chicken but with Laurens stomach hurting again I unluckily got to eat it all! In the morning our excentric Canuck told us he would brew us some magic tea that would sort out any ailment. What it did sort out was our lack of bathroom action !, and we had to make a pit stop at every gas station on our way to our next port of call – Deadman’s.

Getting on it, mescal bar, Antigua.

On our way south my good friend Ian and I stumbled upon a right breaking wave that reels off a jetty surrounded by towering sand dunes that we named ” ‘Deadman’s”. We had camped  out there on the dried out arroyo and I thought it might make a good spot for Lauren and I to spend the night. As we approached the beach road someone had put up a rope ” Gate ” and charged us 20 pesos to get to the beach. Weird I thought? Who knows about this place? Well, apparently half of Brazil and most of San Diego!! There were people camped all over and 15 plus in the water. I paddled out anyway for old times sake but after fighting the currents and the crowd, I caught one in . We decided not to camp as some dodgy locals were hanging around trying to chat Lauren up, and there was an un-easy feeling to the place. Night ”n” day from when I was last here.. With the sun getting lower we decided Escondido was a stretch, and headed for the pristine right point-break that is ” Barra “.

Barra De La Cruz or ” Barra” was an unknown surf spot until ’06 when surf company Ripcurl brought their ” Search ” here. Each year since ’05 they have scouted out new and hidden spots that embody the discovery element of surfing in an overcrowded world. Some spots they have ” found ” have been surfed for years but Barra was a true gem. When its working its one of the best barreling right points in Mainland Mexico and I was excited to surf it. Unluckily it had been going off until we arrived and it seems we were the harbinger of bad swell.. It’s a cool spot though and with a good mix of Aussies , Israelis, Yanks and Euro’s I felt like I was back on the surfers path. With a tighter timeline ( bank balance) than I had on my way south I didn’t have the liberty of waiting until it got good, so after a boiling hot nights sleep, we hit the road.

Lauren, please don't get out of the truck to feed him! ...

It’s just a hop, skip an a jump from Barra to Puerto Escondido but being Mexico it took us all day. We were stuck behind Pepsi trucks and tractors the whole way but its a good-looking drive with its windy roads along the cliffs . We rolled into Escondido late afternoon and headed for a little hostel I know. I like Escondido, its crowded and the beach break will snap your neck but down at the point it seems like a hub for happy travellers…. So here we are… Hopefully I can catch a few waves and Lauren can top up her tan. It’s great to have good coffee again and chat to like-minded souls, and I hear there is a wave around the corner that is a little more friendly and not so crowded, and the beach here is a beautiful white sand so were both happy as Larry……

So that really IS all folks!….Sorry for the huge post but we were moving quickly and good internet was hard to come by. Until the next time, thanks so much for bearing with me and reading my sporadic ramblings, mucho gracias to all the angels out there who have kindly donated to my gas fund and a big thank you to all the guys and girls who have shared their surfing knowledge with me. I would like to say Happy Birthday to my friends that have had birthdays ( you know who you are) and congrats to Matty Ollerhead on his engagement  ….Love to all our friends and family and

remember ” If “if’s and ” but’s” were pot’s an’ pan’s, you’d have a whole kitchen” so get out there and get amongst it. Peace out, Neil.

Blllolloooollloohhhh, bbbbbbbllllooooohhhhh !!!!!

The Tale of Captain Gusher…crazy days and good waves…

First off, I would just like to thank my good friend Mr. Williams for allowing me to write my own account of the trip on his fantastic blog. A quality read it has been I am sure you will all agree, even if i have been mentioned in it more than once for all the wrong humorous reasons. Cheers mate. I will try not to elaborate too much on what Neil has already penned in over the past five months, and attempt to give a much different account of my own experiences so as nobody gets bored.

I had always wanted to surf from a young age. I remember seeing (and maybe the odd folk back home in the U.K will too) an old Guinness advert on the T.V. that was shown in black and white of these old school Hawaiian looking surfers charging across the beach; longboards in hand; then dropping into these huge gnarly, messy onshore waves; that was probably meant to create an image of how a pint of Guiness was being poured or even chucked; and then these huge white horses coming over the back of the sets as the long-boarders were charging down. Man that is so cool… I would think. It was watching these adverts that stole it for me, and I decided that one day I wanted to surf like these guys.

 But it took me a long while to get going; 15 odd years. I was probably around 12 or 13 years old when I saw this advert. I bought my first board while living in Australia at the age of 28, only two years ago. I had done a bit of body-boarding before so I was no stranger to being out in the water. I had a year of slowly but surely learning to surf while living down there, and then two months of surfing around Indo, which is where the passion really started to click for me. Then 6 months back home in the U.K, with the odd session down in Devon and Cornwall, before flying to Mexico for this 6 month surf trip of a lifetime.

It kind of pains me a little to think why it took me so long to start surfing; especially with the euphoria and adrenaline rushes that I am having now. The feeling of your heart pumping as that sudden set comes from nowhere and is rolling towards you from upon the horizon. It’s getting closer. Shit it’s bigger than I thought! Huge in fact! Am I too far inside or am in the right position to drop in? Am I about to take a heavy one on the head and get nailed to the bottom of the ocean floor, for god knows how long? Or am I about to drop into one of the best rides of my life? Swimming across the line up as fast as you can with all the strength god gave you, trying to get into the right position to make the drop. If you are too far inside and know it, then at least trying to make it around the breaking wave in time before mother-nature comes crashing down on you in all her glory. It’s so close now, close enough to know what decision to make. Sod it, go for it! She ain’t gonna break on top of me! The heart pumping adrenaline rushing as you start to paddle forward, keeping an eye over your shoulder as she is approaching you. You feel her lifting you up as you paddle as hard as you can, your board shifts forward much quicker than when you started paddling. Knees fly up under your chest feet in position… I’ve made it… unlike the last wave when I took a heavy one over the falls. Gliding down this perfect glassy blue wall looking up in awe as it towers over me… It truly is beautiful. These words are as best as I can do to describe it. But really they cannot describe it and every surfer out there will say the same. All I can say is I would recommend anyone who has never surfed to go out there and try it. And they will see for themselves. Start in small waves on a big board and you will know if it is for you.

I met Neil around 3 years ago in Mexico through a friend of mine, Richie Unwin. They were buddies from the snowboarding scene up in Canada, and were on a short break down in the Latin Quarter where I just happened to be at the time. I stayed in touch with Neil and knew that he had a big surf trip planned for the future. While living in Oz I received a group email to all the people he had in mind to possibly join him at some point on the road. I had already done two big trips around South East Asia, Indo, Australia, New Zealand, Figi, Mexico, Canada and the U.S. And having the burning desire to hit the unchartered territory of South America for my next big trip, it seemed ideal to join him through the Central America’s for some serious Surf, before heading to the South of the continent to travel and surf as much of it as I could. So I arrived home and got my plan into action. Working my arse off for six months I saved as much coin as I could, and with the flights finally booked; the bank balance healthy and a brand new bit of fiberglass in the board bag, I was on the plane out to Mexico on December 28^th; with a huge smile on my face; and that feeling of excitement running through me like a child when he wakes up on Christmas day. Another big adventure of a lifetime.

My original plan was to spend a bit of time surfing with Neil and his friend Ira in Mexico, before heading south much faster, with so much ground to cover in such a short space of time. I planned to spend two months through Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador, Nicaragua, Costa Rica and Panama; and then four months in the south through Columbia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Argentina and Brazil. Sounds kind of crazy to fit all that in such a short space of time, and I still believe it could have been done. But it never happened. After getting as far as Panama a month behind schedule, I decided to turn around with Neil and The Beast, surfing all the great breaks again through Costa Rica, Nicaragua, and El Salvador.

That was the main factor that kept me up there for so long and slowed me down on the road; the lust and passion for waves. The days of floating down the River Mekong in Laos pissed as a newt; Firing AK-47s and RPGs in the Cambodian countryside, and attending a Midget Chucking show in Bangkok were now a thing of the past. As great memories as I have from backpacking this time, now I just needed to Surf everyday as much as I possibly could. If I had headed south I would have wasted too much time on long distant bus journeys, and would have got sucked in land well away from the waves. Oh and did I fail to mention that the Mickey Mouser (that’s slang for Scoucer for all you that didn’t know) is sound company to surf and travel with.

Mexico being my first destination was the only country that I had previously visited three years ago. Although it has always had mass problems with its drug cartels, it was not in such a bad state back then, as it is now. The new government had certainly seen to that, declaring war on all the drug gangs and their operations. There was always that constant state of being on edge. Always feeling like we were in the shadows of the cartels, and we most definitely were. Reports surfaced after we had left places like La Ticla and Rio Nexpa that gangs had come down to these spots. A rival gang member even chopped up and left for dead on the beach in La Ticla.

We met a guy who told us a Californian surfer had gotten into an argument with a local on the beach in Rio Nexpa, who then had a gun fired point blank at his head; miraculously surviving; he then decided to bandage his head up himself and got on a flight straight back to the states because he didn’t want to risk getting hunted down in a Mexican hospital. Theses crazy stories you hear are pretty much your average run of the mill in Mexico. And we were very fortunate nothing bad happened to us. I did have a couple of misfortunes happen to me, but compared to the Californian surfer who got shot, was water off a ducks back. For instance, at a checkpoint, while the army was searching the truck, after giving us the all clear I realize five minutes down the road that my brand new iPod had been stolen from the truck. Cheeky mother F****R I remember thinking. A soldier from the Mexican army of all people. If you can’t trust them out here who can you trust? He is probably a hardcore fan of The Clash now as that was what we were blaring out from the truck at the time. So to the thieving soldier I dedicate the track, ´´Straight To Hell Boy´´.

On a more serious note I had a large amount of fraud activity on my bank account. My card must of been read at some point in an ATM, and where I hadn´t checked my internet banking for 12 days, some lucky Pedro up in Guadalajara wiped £1800 out of my account. To say I was shocked when I logged on to my banking that day and saw those figures in the red of my overdraft, is a bit of an understatement. I couldn’t get my head around how this could have happened when my bank card was in my backpack the whole time. A schoolboy error on my part there, leaving a huge overdraft like that on my account, would never have happened otherwise. But still my bank should have noticed this irregular pattern. They never did, which astounded me. I’ve been refunded since, after a long and painful mission involving god knows how many phone calls, but one thing is for sure… I will be seeking a new bank on arriving home.

Despite all this I cannot stress how amazing this country is. The food is amazing; most of the people are friendly to foreigners; and the surf is epic. For me the wave at Chacahua is probably the best wave I have ever surfed. A perfect right point break that is well over a minute long ride. I spent two weeks at this spot and headed down there a good week before Neil and Ira. I paddled out the afternoon on arriving and it was a nice 4 or 5 foot. The first wave I dropped into was the longest wave I had ever caught. Well over a minute. It just peels on forever from the point to the beach. It is truly incredible. I couldn’t get enough of this wave. When the guys finally arrived a week later the swell picked up even more and was firing in all its glory, around 8 to 10 feet.

I remember the biggest day. We all paddled out late in the afternoon. It was huge. As the sets were rolling towards us it felt like the sea level between us and the oncoming wave was being sucked down into a huge hole, taking us with it before the huge wall was upon us. Between sets it would all go quiet and still on the horizon. Then Antonio, a young local, would start paddling for his life to the left. We would all look at each other and think we better follow suite, as we are probably too far inside and a local knows this wave better than us. Then out of nowhere the wave would come. Too far inside we would be with the unpredictable current, and we would paddle for our lives just to get around the wave and not caught inside. I caught probably my biggest wave that day. In my eyes it was around 10 foot as that is how high the steep drop felt as I went down. I remember looking up as I made the bottom and tucked in. This glassy blue wall was hanging over me as I was getting as many turns up and down the wave as I could. I remember jumping off at the end and Ira was just paddling out. Paddling back to the point together I said, “Dude I want another one of those bad boys”. I had so much adrenaline running through me that my arms felt stronger than ever.

We got back to the point where Neil and the rest of the group were waiting for the next set, and out of nowhere she came again. I couldn’t help it. I don’t usually do this but I paddled around Neil and the boys, pushed in front of the line- up and paddled for the next monster. I remember hearing Neil shout, “Gush you cheeky F*****R, what you playing at?” “Sorry buddy,” I shouted as I paddled lifting up for the drop. Though this one didn’t come off as well. I remember paddling hard then shifting my feet onto my board, but the wave was already breaking over me. I fell what felt like a 10 foot drop down a white waterfall, and just caught a glimpse of everyone’s face to the side of the wave. Laughter, smiles and the sound of “OH”. That will teach me for pushing in the line-up. I got everything I deserved for it. I fell to the bottom and got held down for what felt like 20 or so seconds. As I reached the surface gasping for air I knew I was in a bit of bother, as the next wave would be coming. I turned around and in a split second the next wave was crashing down on me like a ton of bricks and this one seemed bigger. I lost the grip of my board as i got sucked under and for a moment lost my way. Probably the only time I ever thought I was going to drown. When you get pulled under you need to hold your breath in a calm way and not panic. Taking in a deep breath as you go under just fills your lungs up with more built up air, which makes you want to breath back out even quicker, and when you’re pulled under for 10 to 20 seconds it’s the last thing you want to do.

Taking in a huge breath is what I did on this second wave and again I was sucked down for what seemed like forever. Trying to fight my way to the surface but not getting anywhere with all this air in my lungs that was bursting to get out. I was close to passing out. This was definitely a learning curve and I’ve been in a few similar situations since, and now know how to deal with it in a calm way. Finally making it to the surface feeling like my head had just escaped a plastic bag I turned to see how far away the third wave was whilst panting like a dog in the heat. It was coming but I had about 5 seconds to prepare this time. Quickly reaching for my board down I go again but this time it’s not so intense, as my board brings me back to the surface much quicker. Another wave is on the way and I start to paddle to the left to see if I can make it back around the impact zone, but it’s no use as I am way too far inside. Wave after wave still coming I decide to ride the white water back into the beach, and get my breath back before paddling back out again. That definitely took the wind out of my sails for a moment, but it was worth it just to have caught that first monster of a wave that I will never forget. Crazy stuff this surfing lark.

Mexico had been a solid six weeks of surfing where we had pretty much been in the water most days. I decided I needed a rest and headed inland on my own from the coasts. I heard great reports about Guatemala; how beautiful the country was; ancient ruins; cool colonial towns; volcanoes. I wasn’t disappointed. The country was lush and green. I spent 10 days there. Visited the great Mayan ruins of Tikal and was convinced by our guide that the 21st of December 2012 is not going to be the day the world ends, despite what they predicted. He could have just been saying that as not to frighten everyone on the tour?

I then spent a week in Antigua. A cool, beautiful colonial town surrounded by volcanoes. One of the volcanoes was active and would burst lava all through the night. We would all sit there on the balcony of the Black Cat Hostel, drinking and smoking weed, transfixed on this illumination glowing in the distance. It was what I call “A Moment” on my travels. I only get a few that are special and make this grade, and this was definitely one of them. I will never forget those nights. How many lifetimes are you watching a Volcano erupting? I met some great people in Guatemala and at this hostel in Antigua. Sev from Norway in particular who I had a great laugh with. We both trekked up one of the other volcanoes one afternoon and whilst taking in the breathtaking views at the summit had our own little eruption with his bong. We were probably the only two in the group who got stoned and laughed our heads off all the way to the bottom. I also took a Spanish course while I was in Antigua to improve my so called “Spanglish”. I have improved a little but nowhere near to what I had hoped. I can write a bit and put a few sentences together, but I still struggle to understand what is being said compared to others. And staying in the Black Cat Hostel is not the ideal accommodation to stay in while doing these classes. Not when there is partying every night. Good times.

Next was El Salvador ‘The Saviour’. I didn’t know at the time but this little country wedged between Guatemala and Honduras would be an important place on the trip, and one where I would spend the most time. For the waves and all its right point breaks of course, but also the people. Who are very friendly and warm. It’s funny, with Mexico and all its drug wars, and El Salvador with its huge gang problem you would think these two would be the less friendly countries to visit. You couldn’t be further from the truth. I found this out more after visiting Nicaragua and Costa Rica, and comparing them all against each other.

Planning to meet back up with Neil in El Salvador, I headed to El Tunco with Sev and Kai, another lad I met in Antigua who was a surfer from California. An amazing week was had in this town with great waves and messy nights out with lots of great people. Me, Sev, and Kai stayed in the cool surf lodge of legendary local surfer Jaime Dalgado, aka Papaya. After here I got back on the Greenhorn road and was officially given the copilot keys to the truck, now that Ira was back home in Canada and sorely missed by all. We hit the cool surf community of Las Flores and the amazing break Punta Mango.  About 5 days here before heading to Nicaragua, this was definitely penciled in as a long stop off on the way back north on Neil’s schedule. It was around now that I was realizing it was going to be hard to make the south, and that if I did decide to stay up here I would come back as far as Las Flores, El Salvador.

From here it went a bit downhill for me as far as surfing was concerned.  After going through the borders of hell that are Honduras, and arriving in Nicaragua I was in serious pain with my ribs. Two months of surf must of caught up with me, and I realized my body had never been used to this constant motion of paddling and using these muscles so often. It honestly felt like I had cracked ribs but because the pain wasn’t on the bones I realized it must have been the muscles in between the rib cage. If I sneezed or coughed I would fall down in agony to the amusement, but also pity of Mr. Williams. One day when I thought I was getting better, I attempted to paddle out at Popoyo and as I was doing so felt the muscle in my side tear as if it moved an inch. Screaming in pain I could only paddle back in with one arm, which was pretty much useless when I got caught in a rip. Thankfully some dude on the beach saw I was in trouble and pulled me in. Would have been nice if it was some smoking hot chick that had saved me but I was grateful never the less. The injury now felt ten times worse and I was back to square one.

With no surfing at all in Nicaragua, and then onto Costa Rica, I well and truly fell off the wagon getting seriously on it every night, which wasn’t a good thing for my state of mind, let alone my bank balance. During these depressing morning hangovers with the painful ribs I seriously thought about jumping ship and going home. It was when Neil told me that I should seriously go and see a doctor for about the tenth time that I finally took the advice on board. I should of went as soon as I developed the problem but me being me thought I should just man up and let the pain wear off. Within two days of seeing the doctor, a jab of valium in the arse, and the strongest painkillers known to man I was nervously paddling back out for the first time in 3 weeks. We were in Matapalo in the South of Costa Rica.

Along with Chacahua in Mexico; Las Flores, Punta Mango in El Salvador; Matapalo was in my top three favorite places and waves of the whole trip. The waves here are a clear crystal blue set on the lush tropical jungle; A Paradise Heaven on Earth. I paddled out at the break called Pan Dulce with Neil and the rad Jessie from Canada. Nervous and taking my time, praying that I didn’t have a repeat performance of Popoyo, I finally made it to the point feeling pretty stiff but ok. Within a minute I caught a great wave flying down the face. YES. It felt good to be back in the water shredding again. The session went well. I felt a bit stiff later that night but over the next few days the pain eased each day as I surfed more. When it was completely gone I could feel that my body was slightly numb on that side where the pain had been. It was definitely some serious nerve damage and explained why I had been in agony. If it´s one thing I learned from this injury… always take the time to stretch properly before paddling out. Something I never bothered to do.

By now I had decided I was definitely not going to the South. I hit Neil’s final destination of Bocas Del Toro in Panama with him, and turned around and headed back North. I was totally stoked that he and his truck had made it all the way. It was quite an achievement driving all the way from Vancouver and I hope that he and the truck make it all the way back in one piece. Matapalo where we had previously surfed in Costa Rica was our first target on the way back north. With great waves crashing on the lush jungle it was penned in for a long stop. We experienced the worst rain of the trip while camping here with a wild panther roaming close to the camp at night. Gnarly.

From here gradually heading north I was looking forward to going back to Nicaragua to surf Popoyo, as I was out of action with my injury the last time we were there. Our return to this country was nothing but misery with the police, constantly being pulled over because we were foreign. They would try anything on as far as bribes go; Bribes for not wearing a t shirt; Bribes for having blue eyes. It was tedious wearing us both down, and we were sick to the core with this crap. It was funny one day when we realized that the officer was asking us in Spanish if we had a breakdown triangle, and if not it would be a 50 dollar fine. With Neil finally realizing what he was getting at, out he pulls the triangle from under the seat and the officer just smiles at us knowing that we have had him over. Sarcastically smiling back we drive off.

The locals in this country are very hostile too. It takes a lot to upset us but these people are rude and hardly give you the time of day. I’m not sure what it is. We know they are much poorer than us but the people in El Salvador and Mexico have very little, and they are a breath of fresh air. Costa Rica was the same as Nicaragua; Very hostile at times. I’m not sure what there deal is down there as they are one of the richest countries on this continent. Maybe they are so used to foreign influence that they are just fed up with it. So after passing through the beach town Suan Del Sur, and witnessing a brutal street fight with machetes and guns being fired (did I mention how hostile Nicaraguans are?) we finally arrived back in Popoyo. I had a great week surfing here and we met a good group of people too. Finally got to grips surfing with my back to the wave and caught some of my longest left waves yet at Lances Left, an awesome wave north of Popoyo.

Despite a good week of surf we both had had enough of Nicaragua and the sooner we got back to “The Saviour” (El Salvador) the better. Las Flores and Punta Mango was the target, and for me would be my final destination on the Greenhorn Adventure. We planned to get back there by May 1^st, which we did, leaving us with a whole month to surf these waves. With Neil’s next blog due very soon I won’t go into too much detail of our time back at Punta Mango where we camped on this baron piece of land next to the break for 3 weeks. But I will say this… It was an incredible experience that gave us epic surf sessions with perfect waves and the mother of all swells… our very own ´Big Wednesday´; but also nearly left us up in hospital with serious conditions. I don’t think we estimated the danger of the bugs and the wild animals down there, and we more than outstayed our welcome as far as our health was concerned. I realized how crazy we were to camp there when on the last day before we were due to pack up my biggest fear slithered under me while I was half asleep in my hammock. I will leave Neil to fill you in on the details, but I faced my demons that day and I believe Neil has the picture to prove.

We met two great guys while surfing at Punta Mango. Rick and Jimmy from Hawaii, who were fantastic surfers and great company. We had some great morning sessions with these guys, surfing perfect 6 foot waves. Rick had an unbelievable story and a photo to prove from his younger days of surfing in Hawaii. He was attacked by a shark in 1992. Luckily the attack didn´t prove fatal, missing his body, but his board didn´t fare well with the shark taking a clean chunk out of it. Google ‘Rick Gruzinski 1992 shark attack Hawaii’ and see the picture for yourself. It is unbelievable. It was great to watch these two in action and learn a thing or two from them at the same time. It was also good to have their experienced heads in the water with us on ´´Big Wednesday´´.

I will never forget that day and I´m sure Neil will say the same. Unlike the big days in Chacahua this was a whole different ball game. Whilst out there waiting in the line-up you could feel the tension in the air. Nobody was saying much. Just waiting anxiously spread out all across the line up. It was going to be that big nobody really knew where to wait. The sea was glassy and perfect, but you could feel what was building up as the peaks rolling in were gradually getting bigger and bigger. After an hour or so she was firing and I dropped in on a few close out sets. Finally when I was feeling comfortable I attempted a lunker, and what would of been my wave of the day, but I ballsed it up and fell on the drop in. I was gutted.

Eventually catching a good wave I got washed in with about 10 others and none of us could get back out. The swell had reached her masterpiece and what I could see from the rocks was incredible. It must have reached close to 20 feet. I just wish I had my camera on me at the time to catch the images. The numbers in the water began to drop rapidly with the boats taking off sharpishly back to Las Flores, until there were only a handful of older heads from the states left out there catching, for me, the best waves I have ever seen ridden with my own eyes. They would then jump off the top of the wave and fly about 10 feet in the air just in time before being caught in the second section of the wave. It was this second section of the wave that spelt game over for me and the 10 others washed up on the beach. Once you were caught in there you were never getting back out. The current was that strong it would wash you 2km down the beach. Of the guys washed in I was shocked to see Rick and Jimmy. For these two older heads who had surfed the north shore of Hawaii for 30 years was in their own words, `embarrassing´. And they both seemed a little pissed, especially Jimmy who only ended up washed in thanks to a big Brazilian long-boarder who dropped in on his wave. As for Rick he caught a monster of a wave and rode it in too far before it was too late. When Neil finally made it back to shore, we both took in for a moment what we had just experienced. I think we gave each other a pat on the back for actually having the balls to go out there that morning, especially when Rick and Jimmy were pairing those conditions to a big day in Hawaii. You only had to see the sight of the snapped boards washed up on the beach to realize how intense it was. With that we gave the boys from Hawaii a lift back to their hotel in Las Flores and we all embarked on the mother of all drinking sessions that went on for 9 hours, leaving yours truly collapsed on the beach and nearly washed out in the tide. Silly boy.

When the 3 week Punta Mango experience was over it was back to Las Flores for a week of R&R before I bid farewell to Neil and headed to Brazil for 10 days where I eventually get my flight home. I was completely surfed out and just looked forward to relaxing in our pristine hotel with great food. It was literally a case of rags to riches for us. Neil’s girlfriend Lauren flew out to take over the copilot seat and head north with him. She brought her good friend Courtney with her and we all had a great week staying at the Las Flores Hotel. Apart from the Saturday afternoon when I witnessed Manchester United get totally outclassed by Barcelona in the Champion’s League Final. Oh well there´s always next year.

With Neil and Lauren spending a lot of quality time in the Rabbit Hutch (that’s the name I gave to their hotel room)(only joking Lauren’s Mum!) me and Courtney spent the time hanging out drinking by the pool and on the beach; having a laugh and attempting to get Courtney stood up on a surf board. I am not the greatest teacher Court, but I could tell that you had good composure and would do well if you kept at it. We both also picked up a slight bit of food poisoning. Of all the crappy places I’ve eaten on the trip and all the food that we have cooked on camp fires, the one place where I necked a dodgy dish was in the fancy Las Flores hotel! It was a case of downing shot after shot of Tequila to kill the bug; the perfect medicine for food poisoning. Seriously.

After an epic 5 months on the road it was time to say farewell to Neil. Me and Courtney were flying out on our respective flights from San Salvador airport on the same day. She would of missed hers back to Texas if I hadn´t dragged her out the airport bar in time. It felt emotional leaving Neil and the truck. What an incredible time we´d had. All the great people we had met. All the great waves we had surfed. All the laughs we had had. Memories that I wouldn’t give up for any price. Those sunset surf sessions would stick with me the most, then enjoying a cold beer round the camp fire afterwards. Priceless.

So here I am sat in my hostel in Brazil with barely 4 days left before my flight back home. My original flight home was booked from Rio de Janiero, as this was supposedly my final destination in the south. So I had no choice but to fly down here and seeing as I´ve never been to this part of the world before was more than excited. And it’s been great the past week even if it is super expensive. Went to a Jack Johnson gig the other night in Florianopolis and have met some great locals who I have hung out with. To all the guys reading this if there is one bit of advice I could give is to visit Florianopolis in Brazil. Walking oil paintings everywhere you turn. It´s almost like every good looking girl in Brazil has moved to this spot. And this is the winter so it’s pretty quiet. Jesus what must the summer be like? Being winter now down here it’s been back to cold water surfing and the wetsuits been dug out from the bottom of the backpack. To be honest it’s been kind of refreshing surfing back in cold waters. And no mosquitos or bugs. Bonus. From here I fly up to Rio for my last 3 days where I have a meeting with Christ himself over -looking the beautiful city and the final drinking session of the trip. What will Rio de Janeiro have in stall?

So to all the great people I have met on the road these past 5 and half months. Ira from Vancouver. Had a great time hanging out and surfing with you dude. Even if my mind was of a more higher state of consciousness when you were around. Rick and Jimmy from Hawaii. If you are reading this fellas sorry we didn’t make it back for a proper send off on that Sunday night. Your place was full so we checked into the Mira Flores and were both quite ill after the Mango ordeal, and needed to rest. I’ve looked you up on Facebook Rick but no joy. If you’re both reading this send me an email so we can stay in touch… liamusher@hotmail.co.uk.

Sev from Norway you funny F*****R. Great to meet you lad and hope to get over to the Viking land to shred the powder at some point. Canadians Big Jammo with his bad ass beard and his buddy Ian. Kai from California. Daryl ‘The Barrel’ from London. The coolest funniest Jessie ‘Mama needs a Cocktail’ Johnson from Vancouver Island. Her partner in crime Katie ‘Tasty Toe’ Lynn from Brighton. These two would give Thelma and Louise a run for their money. Tamara Kriss from The States making up team Sayulita. The lovely Stina from Sweden and her good friend Karin. The cool hip Brummie Bombshell Stevie Marie Partridge. Neil’s good friend Erin Galvin from Canada. Our saving grace for putting us up in luxury and turning up with a much needed chess board. Toon and Ina from Belgium. Everyone in Chacahua including David from France, Minttu from Finland, Casper from Mexico and South African Tim. Everyone working at the Black Cat Hostel in Antigua Guatamala. All the boys at Papas and Burgers in the messy nights of Jaco Costa Rica.. Creighton, Robbie, Chris and Claudio… one funny Tiko.

Lauren Sawyer… Miss Texas. The new girl in Neil’s life. He is a lucky guy as you are truly a great girl and I wish you both well when you hit the road together. A big mention to Lauren’s good friend the lovely Courtney Fox. Skype session when I am home? And last but very not least Mr. Neil Williams. It has been a pleasure traveling and surfing with you bud. I didn’t expect to hang around for 5 months and I am sure you didn’t expect it either. You have become a very good friend. I hope I have been good company even if you weren’t when you had an empty stomach lol. Sorry for beating you at chess five times and making you hate The Kings of Leon. I wish you well for the remainder of your trip bro and hope you and the beast make it back to Vancouver in one piece. Keep in touch dude. Greenhorn goes Indo Part 2? Definitely Maybe?

Video Diary….Filmed on location at ” Camp Greenhorn”, Punta Mango, El Salvador.

S0 , I thought I would add a little video diary. It was filmed in the bush about 3 weeks ago. We had been camping at a remote point for nearly a month and were both tired, ill, hungry and ready to get the hell out of there! I hadn’t slept in many days so please forgive my rambling…. My then co-pilot Liam Usher has sadly left the picture and headed on home. He has just sent me his version of events for the past months so I will post that in a day or so. Also my next written blog entry will be edited and up for your viewing pleasure (or displeasure) by the start of next week. Im STILL in El Salvador, and still living the dream, thanks for watching, Neil..