El Salvador - La Tortuga Verde

I booked into the hostel and noticed two other travel bikes, another 1200GSA and a Kawasaki KLR 650 with British rider Jamie on a surfing riding tour. 

I checked out the BMW to see where the plates were from, El Salvador, then I was approached by a tall guy with long dreadlocks.

‘Is this your bike?’

‘Yes. My name is Rory.’

‘No way!’ I explained that Cisco had told me to keep a look out for him as Rory had stayed with Cisco as he was travelling through Guatemala. Cisco struggled to understand why Rory had only made it to El Salvador and stayed for nearly two years. Rory is a surfer and when I saw this place it became immediately apparent to me. Not only was this as much of a paradise as the place I stayed last night but it was even less busy, longer beaches and a regular turtle laying area.

I knew right away I was going to stay a couple of nights at least and I was finding a strong pull from El Salvador to stay longer. When I find places like this I have to remind myself that I’m on a world motorcycle trip and at some point I have to leave. Ok, only two nights. Well maybe three. It didn’t help when Rory told me that if I book in for two weeks I get the following two weeks free. Also I can volunteer at the turtle sanctuary and that contributes to my accommodaton…

 One week later I managed to drag myself away from this paradise. Beachfront living with a pool, 

massage, great company, 

surfing if I want 

and cheap local seafood. It doesn’t get much better. I didn’t need to rest from my travels but being involved in baby turtle releases 

projects to improve their chances, egg burying, 

filming duties on their GoPro 

Observing female turtles laying eggs on the beach

and engagement with the local media were all fun and good feeling things to do. 

Aussies and Brits seem to gravitate to the beach more than in the mountains and I’ve hung out with some wonderful travellers and really enjoyed their company. 

La Tortuga Verde is a great destination and I can’t recommend it enough. As if it couldn't get any better, mother nature put on a show of storms and sunsets.

Many thanks to Tom and staff and ongoing volunteers for sharing your passion and expertise with me.

El Salvador - Costa Del Sol

Getting back to Ziggy I tried again putting the key in but again there was no power to anything. I removed my luggage and the seat to access the battery. I wriggled the positive terminal and fortunately the power resumed. The terminal wasn’t exactly loose but wasn’t as tight as the other. I noticed the connectors were also a bit dirty. I removed them and filed them to a shiny brass colour then tightened them on well. 

Sure enough Ziggy jumped back into life. Even on a high tech bike some basics need doing such as cleaning battery terminals!

 I decided in the morning was a good time to attend to a couple of other maintenance issues that I noticed on the bike but hadn’t done anything about. For some time the manual adjustment of the rear shock absorber had been getting more and more difficult to move. I checked and it was completely seized up. The left hand mirror had been knocked out of place with one of my falls and the wind guards on the hand grips were not really guarding me from the wind, they needed to be a little higher.

 The suspension adjuster was really stuck. I had just bought a tin of spray in Santa Ana two days before. I worked on the adjuster for a good ten minutes making very little headway. I didn’t have the correct sized shifting spanner to pull the mechanism off so I sprayed as much lube spray as I could into the thread. I let it sit overnight and in the morning the adjuster had loosened up enough to gradually work it loose. It took another fifteen minutes but finally I was able to turn through the forty plus clicks of adjustment. I undid and adjusted the mirrors and hand guards, evening up both sides and tightening all the screws properly. Little maintenance things and adjustments make such a difference to the riding. I had neglected them a bit so I sought out all of the springs and moving parts and gave them a little spray to keep them lubricated.

 It was a comfortable night’s sleep in my private resort and early in the morning I took a long walk along the beach. 

I was raised near the beach in Sydney and it was a prominent part of my upbringing. I sometimes forget how energising it is to walk along a deserted beach with waves crashing, the breeze off the sea-water filling my nostrils with the salty fresh smell and sea spray forming a haze over the white foam as the waves break far along the coastline. So far El Salvador beaches are matching many I’ve seen in Australia in the remote tropical regions. Beautiful. El Salv-adorable.

 I loaded up Ziggy and followed the road to the end of the peninsular, another fifteen or so kilometres. It ended where a large river meets the sea. It reminded me of the Maroochydore River in Queensland in the 1970s. Wide and wild flowing the ocean, crashing onto unspoilt beaches that stretched as far as the eye can see. 

There was a small town sporting makeshift restaurants with thatched roofs on the banks of the river just above the tide line. 

I picked a restaurant, or let’s say I was herded into it by a spruker, and although I was hungry I had spotted some small roadside kitchens along the way that appealed to me. Once again it is off season and a week day so there are few people around and all the vendors focus on who is present, me. 

I bought a coffee and set myself up in a hammock overlooking the wide flowing river, in the distance I could see the white crashing foam of the sea as it collided with the river flow. I think I dozed off for half an hour. So serene, so peaceful, so perfect.

I dragged myself away and backtracked along the coast and turned inland back to the mountains. 

In Guatemala, Cisco had recommended a place called La Tortuga Verde – The Green Turtle – a turtle protection project with a hostel and environmental resort. It was a long way around to get there and I rode more than 200kms, arriving at Playa Cuco at around 5pm. There was a sign to continue for another three kilometres and after a bit of a dirt road I pulled into a driveway to be confronted by the biggest flag in El Salvador.

El Salvador - A Bit More Coastal Therapy.

After Ruta De Las Flores I turned towards the mountains and Sonorata. It was a ride up the big roads again to the mountains then easterly back towards San Salvador. I made a turnoff to wind through the mountains and small villages again but it was getting later in the afternoon and I needed to get to the beach and find accommodation so after half an hour I turned back towards the six lane highway heading to the airport.

 It was a great downhill run with largely empty roads being a Sunday and I clicked Ziggy into sixth gear to give her a bit of a run. Oops. I was waved over by police who showed me that I was doing 106km/h.

‘What is the speed limit?’

‘In all El Salvador the maximum is 90.’

‘Sorry I didn’t see a sign.’

‘There is a sign at the top of the hill’.

 Ok I was busted. But as usual they were interested in the bike and I explained to the policeman who spoke to me in English that it ABS with the brakes and tyres in good condition and although I was speeding it is quite capable of stopping quickly from that speed. He was a bit amused but he was also friendly and seeing my papers were in order and that I was a traveller from Australia I guess they concluded that it was pointless fining me because I was leaving the country soon. They let me go with a caution, one that I heeded now I was aware of the speed limit. I really hadn’t seen a single sign since arriving and I was often overtaken.

It was approaching 5pm as I pulled into the town of Playa San Marcelino. I rode around the town and there wasn’t much in the way of hotels and no hostel. I was stopped by a spruker as I rode towards the beach and discovered that hotels start at US$50 a night. I had a chuckle and kept going. I rode a bit further down the coast and found another hotel that was a bit rundown and not so inviting but right on the beach. Same price. I decided that I would have to go to another town to find a hostel.

 The hotel attendant asked me what price I was looking for. I explained that I was a traveller on a budget.

‘My budget is $15.’

He shook his head a few times so I took my guide book out of the tank bag and started looking at nearby options.A couple of minutes later he approached me again.

‘Come with me. Follow me. Bring your moto.’

He led me three doors down to a large white concrete wall with a metal gate where an armed guard answered his knock. I followed them in but Ziggy decided to not start. No lights on the dash, no power anywhere. I was thinking that it was the battery, hoping it had not suddenly given up without warning. I rolled her inside and an old semi-derelict resort opened up in front of me. Jose led me to three rooms, opened the first and said,

‘I can see you are different, you can stay here.’

‘What is the cost here?’

‘Whatever you think.’

 There were beds with linen, electricity and airconditioning but no water. Jose then invited me to come to the other hotel later to use the internet. I walked to the other end of the property and an extensive, amazing, empty unspoilt beach opened up in front of me. 

I was right on the beach and I started having visions of opening this place as a hostel and wondering who owned it and how much I could get it for. 

Strange thoughts for a nomad and first time it has happened to me. This place is paradise. I walked along the beach in both directions for a while and it soon became apparent that it is a privilege to have beach access. It is all private access with houses and hotels built up to a line back from the beach. No obvious access for the public.