A Hop, Skip & Jump

You are about to explore and visit 7 Countries and 4 languages with us. We play a little “Hop, Skip & Jump” again, kinda like we did in Africa. Yes, there are areas that are purported to be unsafe for bicycle travel. When we were robbed we swore that we’d go on and we will. However, we go onward with the memory of those 3 gun barrels and that makes us very wary. So, with best advice possible, we skip over northern Brazil, Guyana, parts of Venezuela and Colombia. Some of you have indicated that this part of the world is more dangerous than Africa? That may be, we found that often its rumors or stories passed from one to another that fuel the fires of fear. We just won’t take that chance, we listen, learn and we take advice.

So, we travel via Plane 4 times, even touch down in Trinidad and are marooned there for a few days. A couple of Crop Dusters rescue us in French Guyane and we visited the European Space Center. A wrong turn leads to stories of kidnappings and Pirates in Venezuela. Some of the nicest people we’ve ever met helped us, way above and beyond, there! Colombia was a pick and choose cycling adventure. Everything we picked turned out to be wonderful. Plenty of good reading in these pages so GO FOR IT!

Amazon to Columbia
June 15, 2005 to August 9, 2005

Belem, Brazil
June 15, 2005
Exploring Options

Breakfast and another short chat with Willem, the loser of a boat. He seems too relaxed to be in such a terrible situation? They really do put out a nice buffet. Fresh fruit, ham and eggs, sweet rolls and coffee. We’re going to miss this place.

I’m chained to the computer and toilet today. Yes the Pepto Bismol isn’t working and my eyes are burning. Cat set off to find eye drops and food for lunch. Peter is packing, readying for his bus trip south.

Peter came up and we bid him well wishes and good luck. It’ll be strange no longer being a trio. He has been a great travel friend. Very relaxed and open minded. We’re going to miss him. So, the typical hugs, hand shakes and he was gone. Cat mailed the CDs with photos of our Amazon Adventure.

After our in room picnic we went out in search of Maps of North Brazil and the Guiana’s. There just aren’t any. Evandro had one of northern South America that would be great to have but he and the map are motoring toward southern Brazil and back to testing eyes. 

A trip to the US Consulate proved fruitless. Christine, the Deputy there had no idea where to find maps or info and referred us to the web-site for safety info. That’s probably a policy to avoid liability? She was friendly and interested in our journey but seemed pre-occupied. As it turns out, she gave us great advice, she told us of Paratur, the National Tourist Bureau in Brazil. In fact she recommended that we meet Sandra, the Secretary to the President there.

Christine did tell us that there is an Internet Shop downstairs. We looked and the best we could do was a Computer School, Ya Zigi. The guys there were kind but told us that the machines were for Student use, only. They tried to decide on another Internet Shop in the area but came up with nothing then invited us in and onto their machine. They were very excited about our web-site. Several students clicked in and surfed around the world with us. Nick suggested that his Cousin Manages the Ya Zigi School in Macapa. He gave us his e-mail address and we sent him a note looking for information. What nice guys!

Another afternoon of relaxing, a movie and of course more journal typing for me.

A walk down the block to the Hilton Hotel for their buffet dinner. The food was very good, the price was very high.

We both dozed off while watching TV.

June 16, 2005
Tickets purchased
Packed and ready to FLY

Timothy Buck, our elder Grandson Graduated from Middle School Today

Strange, it seems like yesterday that we looked through the window at the hospital and met a sleeping little bundle. And, imagine, he was only 10 when we mounted up and cycled away from home, now he’s headed for High School. Pictures we’ve received recently show him to be taller than his Mom and a very handsome young man, indeed! We’re all really proud of him. Congratulations Timothy!

To Ride or Fly?

After breakfast we walked to the Paratur Info Office. Sandra, who’s Secretary to the President, took tie to meet us and help make decisions. She led us down to the tour office then called a colleague in Macapa. She’d been fairly sure that we’d be okay until that conversion. The first negative was road condition and weather. More than 70% of the road is dirt which in the current rainy season will be mud. Then there’s what they called a “Land Issue” with local Native Americans which has them upset and doing some violent actions as a reaction. AS if that weren’t enough, she also told us that the upcoming Holidays bring tourists which also results in more “Bad Boys” along the road lurking and looking for victims. Okay, we have a decision; we’ll fly to Cayenne, French Guyane. The only other option, fly to the little town at the border, was discounted when we found that the dirt road continues most of the way to the Capital City.

Continuing her hospitable way, Sandra explained which bus would get us to the Airport. We thanked her profusely and went out to wait for the bus. We stood for a while then Sandra appeared and pointed to a spot around the corner where we could get a bus. She really is a kind and caring person!

Malba, Ferdinando and Air Caribe

We missed a passing bus as we walked to the stop then waited for an hour. Finally on board then it was more than an hour ride to the Airport. Once there we fell into a group of folks that really wanted to help. Malba is the Manager, Ferdinando runs the counter. He ticketed us then we told him about our bikes and overweight problems. He smiled and said, “Let’s talk to the Boss.” Malba gave us extra weight at no cost. These guys are the greatest.

Bob’s Burgers for lunch. This place was our favorite in Ipanema and the chicken sandwich is just as tasty, here. The bus trip back to town was another hour grind.

I dove back into the journal pages, Cat hit the Post Office. She found a guy that spoke English and wanted to help. He wants very badly to travel but feels that he can’t afford it. Cat urged him to continue to dream and plan as he posted the packages.

The place we chose from the pages of Lonely Planet had no white wine and a limited menu. So, we headed down the street to Cia Paulista, the same Pizza place where we dined with Peter, our first night I town. Past and fresh veggies, mmmm good.

Larry King had Evangelist, Billy Graham guesting. Hard to stay awake.

June 17, 2005
Belem, Brazil to Cayenne, French Guyane

A leisurely breakfast and morning. Repacking and preparing for the next big step of this adventure. Ferdinando arranged for a van to pick us up at noon.

Runnin’ On Empty

The guys that Ferdinando arranged for us pulled up, 10 minutes late. Pretty shaky looking group of 3 guys and vehicle. We got things loaded then sat in the front seat. There are no other seats so the others crouched in the rear. We were just minutes away fro the Airport when the VW started to sputter. They pulled to the shoulder, opened the engine cover and started puttering. Finally the driver sent the other two for gasoline. They returned with a couple of gallons in a plastic bag. No funnel, they improvised with a leaf. These guys are runnin’ on empty in more ways than one. We’d just decided to flag another car when the old VW sputtered to life. We were in front of the Terminal in minutes. They hated to shut the engine off but had to. Bags to the Porters then we paid the driver and watched as the other 2 pushed and pushed down the road, trying to get her started, again.

Guyane For Us, Home For Them

Ferdinando was there, waiting for us. He weighed the bikes and bags then calculated us 50 kilos over. (over 100 pounds) He rolled his eyes, winked, accepted the bags and sent us on to Immigration. We passed through and into the waiting area only to find that the plane was running 1 ½ hours late. As we sat we observed a family nearby. Gary and Sandy with their 3 kids, Mishaela, Joshua and MacKenzie. They were speaking English so we jumped in. Missionaries, they’ve been here for 14 years running a school and haven’t been home for 5 years. This is their first trip back home in 5 years. They’ll stop over for a couple of days rest in Martinique. Really nice people. The kids are so excited, Joshua was just a baby when the arrived here. They get to spend a year at home, in Kansas.

The plane is a sleek but small craft. It flies fast but the ride is bumpy. Slightly sweaty palms for both of us.

The Airport at Cayenne is great. No touts trying to help us or sell something to us. We got 2 luggage carts, caught the bags then waited for them to bring the bikes around. After a bit of wrangling with drivers we got a guy with a van to take us. The others wanted us to take the next cab in line but we knew that we needed the van. He was a happy driver to be called into service ahead of schedule. He was our first encounter with the prices of French Guyane. (They pronounce it Goo Yawn) He charged 40 Euros, with our countries “Strong Dollar” policy, that’s $50 US. The recommended Hotel Amazonian was fully booked. So, the driver slipped us around to Hotel Central. They had a room but we didn’t have enough Euros to pay the taxi. He drove Cat to an ATM and back. The Hotel accepts Visa, their rate is 50 Euros. I got the bags to our so-so room while Cat got cash. It was just at sunset by the time we got in and had a glass of wine.

The friendly French speaking African American Desk Clerk directed us to a restaurant, La Taverna, just down the street. Very good food as one would expect in France. This is a French Colony. Duck for Cat and Steak for Moi.

Cat was in heaven, baffled at first but then escaping Portuguese and slipping back into French.

No TV, so right to bed.

June 18, 2005
A Hotel Change, La Central to Amazona

Though our room is okay, we want more. Cat has read of a Café for coffee and bread down the main street. Amazona is a Best Western Hotel. We walked in prepared to flash Malba’s business card and tell them that she was sure they’d have a room for us when the clerk said, “Yes, we have rooms”. They probably had a room last night but the night clerk was busy checking a group in. Cat checked, the room is much better and already made up. They even gave her the key without getting any info on us.

The breakfast place, Café Crème, is so French. A glass of juice, flaky croissants and thick, rich, frothy Café au Lait. We sat on the side walk. Had to scoot in ward as the rain began. It really poured. The feeling is tropical but French. We’ve heard estimates of 70% African American but the population and Service are typically French slow. We even enjoyed that.

The rain dwindled to a drizzle. Cat went searching for a Laundry, I headed back to get the bags and bikes ready to move. We’d locked the bikes to a stairwell down but the bags filled the elevator. It’s tiny and moves at snails pace. I had then down and out on the sidewalk by the time Cat arrived, she struck out on both laundry and a tourist office. . Now, another problem, no taxi’s. We sat and waited for almost an hour before we finally flagged a guy down. He made 2 trips and charged a heavy price for the service. This is France and nothing is cheap.

Cat found bread and a tin of tuna with the help of what she called a “semi homeless” guy. He led her to a little store and bakery. She realized later that it’s in the neighborhood they call Chicago the place they recommend we should never be found in. Tight fisted Cat even bought a tin of tune for him as a token of thanks.

So, lunch, a baguette and tuna. Pretty darned good but then anything on a real French baguette is good. The left over steak and duck added greatly to the feast.

Playing Journal Catch-up

Giving in to Antibiotics

An afternoon of journal pages for me and repacking for the road for Cat. Oh yes, the Guff Guff still has me sticking close to the toilet. This is day 1 of a 10 day course of Cipro. Hate to take the stuff but when you gotta go, and go, and go, you gotta do Cipro.

Our planned dinner down was thwarted, they’re closed today? Closed on Saturday? They recommended a place just a short walk away. Turned out to be quite nice once we got past the prices. Pizza, good pizza.

Yes, we have TV here. Not only TV but satellite TV with CNN. So it was Larry King then SLEEP.

Sunday, June 19, 2005
Father’s Day

Drizzle, again, a walk in wet, to breakfast at Café Crème, again. Geez, it’s closed. So, down the street to a place with food and computers. We’ll eat and check e-mail at a place around the block. Hey, it’s closed too? Awe, the worst, breakfast at the Hotel. Just an okay buffet but a big time price tag, 18 Euros.

For me, more journal pages catch up. Cat went on a hunt fro an Internet Shop. This town, the Capital City, is completely closed, total shut down. Cat was beside herself, she spent the day lounging and watching TV. Flipping from CNN to movies and back, going stir crazy. Lunch, leftovers.

Took a walk around town and down to the beach at 5:00 then back to the same restaurant we enjoyed, last night. The ladies there are quite nice. The manager is a gal who speaks only French. Cat worked at it then another, a gal working on new menus, got into the conversation, she spoke English.

Fish and Steak, delicious.

Larry King had his kids on the show for Fathers Day. He’s in his 70s, the kids range from 50 down to 5 years old. 20 years doing 40,000 interviews and that ain’t all!

June 20, 2005
Bikes to Shop
Visas for Suriname

Up early and off to Café Crème, we love that place. In our usual sidewalk seats and having coffee at 8:00 PM.

Got the bikes running and rode to the laundry then on to the bike shop. Well, the Hotel sent us down main street to the building that used to house the Bike Shop. They’ve moved out of the center. It’s been more than 2 months since we cycled. That and riding without bags, pretty shaky.

So, back toward the Hotel then down 3 blocks to the Suriname Consulate to get Visas. Another Euro shock, they charge 50 for each Visa. Simple process, fill out a one page form, hand over your Passports and 100 Euros then come back later today. As we paid another guy came to pick up his passport with his fresh Visa inside. We noted that he had a US Passport. He came out as we were unlocking our bikes. Cat said hello to him then we got into a good conversation. He’s from New York but has lived in lots of places. University in Kansas then off, into the world. He studied in France then went looking for a job, teaching English to French speaking people. That’s how he ended up here. We gave him our card and Hotel telephone, he said he’d call. We suggested lunch tomorrow if his schedule will allow. He’ll call, he’s winding up the school year, giving final exams.

The shop is about 5 Ks from Central. A beautiful new building, 2 stories of bikes, motorcycles and parts. None of the people there speak English. We finally got the point across that we wanted to have the bikes tuned, the brake pads replaced and the chins oiled. They wanted us to wait then suggested that we come back this afternoon. We walked across the street and waited for a bus or taxi. No luck so back and we had the guys call for a cab. They have great looking BMWs and Mercedes Taxis that operate at greatly exaggerated prices. The ride back cost 7 Euros. By the way, this Euro Zone is killing us. Each Euro costs us $1.30. That means this little ride is costing almost $10.00.

The driver dropped us at a store where they say we’ll find maps. No such luck we’ve had no luck. There is a Tourist office but it’s all the way back at the Airport. The lady here says that we won’t find any maps of this country, Suriname or Guyana. Onward, we walked back to the Suriname Consulate and retrieved our freshly Visaed Passports.

This town closes down, 1:00 PM to 4:00. So, we relaxed and watched a Tennis match at Wimbledon

We’ve finished the Lima to Galapagos and want to send it to Wally. Took the CD to 2 different Internet Shops but neither have CD capabilities. So, we packed up the computer and headed for the Computer Repair Shop called @DS Technologies. The guys there, Dominique and Francois know the Sony Vaio. Dominique, the young one looked at the machine then quickly showed us how to copy to the CD. Simple when you know what you’re doing. Cat went to pick pour laundry while I learned. Then, they let me plug into their Internet Server and send the text to Wally. When we finished Francois calmly said, 30 Euros. I was slightly taken aback. He smiled so I offered 20. Then he said, “No Charge”. I thought about it for about 2 seconds then handed him 20 Euros. He said, “Not necessary”, I said, “Worth it, College costs money and now I know how to use our computer”. He smiled that big smile, again.

Dinner, another quandary. We walked to a decent looking restaurant down the street and took a look at the menu. They had no white wine, so we asked if we could get our bottle. They talked among themselves then offered a bottle of red or rose. We insisted that we only enjoy white. They shook their heads then gave us the final decision, “No”. We walked out.

Back to the Hotel, into the restaurant only to find that they too have no white wine. And, they too refused to allow us our own bottle. In fact they were almost nasty about it. Cat was getting upset when we came up with an idea. W chose food from the menu and asked if they would serve it to us in the room. The waitress gave us a dirty look, as though we’d cheated the system but agreed to do room service.

Jeremy called, we made a date to have lunch, tomorrow. The only English language channel is CNN. We’ve seen the same news at least 5 times as we ate our fairly good food and savored our White. Cat was so happy to see Larry King.

June 21, 2005
First Day of Summer in the North, Winter in the South

Preacher Killen was convicted of man slaughter today, for three murders that occurred 41 years ago. Remember the film Mississippi Burning? This hideous event took place in Philadelphia, Mississippi. I met a guy from there while cycling through Meridian, MS. back in 1988. I was sure then and still am, that he was involved. So, finally a conviction of 1 of the many who were responsible for the killing of 3 Civil Rights Workers. Killen is 80 years old and has enjoyed his life. Better late than never, however, whoever heard of manslaughter for 3 cold blooded murders? (Pinochet fainted today, he will never be convicted for his terribly bloody reign over Chile.)

Don’t Let The Rain Come Down

The rain poured, much of the night. It eased and the sun threatened to peak through as we walked to Café Crème. It is so easy to love this French lifestyle. We did supplement our juice, croissants and coffee with a couple of bananas. Awe just to sit on the sidewalk, watch the world go by and dream about Paris in Springtime.

Rambara, the Manager of Maintenance here at Hotel Amazona, volunteered to help us get the broken Pannier Rack fixed. He and I loaded Cat’s bike into a truck and hauled them to Alan, the Welder. He’s a character, he personally did the weld then told Rambara that he had done a very good job to make sure we make it back to California. Rambara’s family came from India, 4 generations ago. He’s from Guyana and speaks great, very British sounding, English. When I asked the cost for welding he and Alan laughed then he told me, “Alan says to ride fast and be safe, he doesn’t want any money”!

While I was watching welding Cat and Elsa, the Front Desk Manager at Amazona called around and reserved a room at a place called Hotel Atlantis in Kourou. She has been more than helpful, another friendly French person.

I spent an hour trying to patch the holes that the “Dirty Rat” chewed in my rear pannier. The patches in place, I set pieces of tile on them to keep the pressure on and left them in the garage. The holes are so large it may be tough to get them sealed. We did take water in the last rain and we’ll see plenty of rainy days ahead. One of my front panniers has a small hole, caused when the Robbers tried to drag the bike away. It’s small, easy to patch and should be fine.

Jeremy called earlier and true to his promise, he was at our door at 1:00 PM. We walked to a place he’s familiar with on a little side street. We had Bami (fried noodles) and Nasi (fried rice) with chicken. Very tasty! Great to learn a little about local food and learning more about Jeremy. A very self confident young guy. He came here as an employee of the Government. The woman that runs the school where he was hired to teach really gave him a hard time. In fact she refused to accept him as an employee even though he had a contract. He went to work, anyway. Even though she refuse to pay. It took 3 months before he was finally on the payroll. He stuck it out and won. However it wasn’t without discomfort. A woman who heard him complaining at the Government Office offered a place to stay. She felt that they were treating him poorly. Jeremy says that living with them was difficult, they’re idea of housekeeping and his differ. Don’t take this the wrong way, he’s extremely thankful that they adopted him. When he finally received back pay he paid them for his room and board.

Jeremy was off to an appointment. We walked to the Internet Shop and checked e-mails then back to @DS Tech to send pictures to Wally. We have some that we took with Pablo when we were Kayaking and some that Tony and Erika, the couple on honeymoon that were along with us when we snorkeled have e-mailed to us. They are pretty good and we hope Wally can place a couple of them. (Thanks Tony and Erika!)

I also wanted a picture of Francois and Dominique. Pics sent, I set the camera but Dominique sat down facing away from me and refused. He’s too shy. Francois and I stood, smiled and posed. What a nice guy. We thought they were originally from Laos or Thailand but were surprised to learn they emigrated from Malaysia. No charge this time and they had both visited our web site and loved it.

We were settling in with a glass of wine when Jeremy called. He invited us to his place for a local dinner. We enjoy him and his local knowledge so much that we has to say yes. He picked us up then we wound through small streets lined with small homes to a place where people stand in line to buy “heavy bananas and chicken”. They even threw in some other unidentifiable meat and roots.

Jeremy lives in a suburb of Cayenne, about 10 Ks out. The roadway is dark. He stopped at a beach and we walked to the sand. The moon shone brightly on the water. Crabs scurried around our feet. It’s obvious that Jeremy loves this place and is thinking of how he will miss it. Yes, he will be leaving now that his school year contract has fulfilled.

His home is a studio. Typical bachelor pad, slightly askew. The food, even the unidentifiable portions, was great. More talk then more rain, as we ate. Jeremy’s parents are coming to see this place he’s become so fond of. The reason he had to get a Suriname Visa, they’ll arrive there. We may even see him and meet them when he drives over to get them. He has his car for sale but wants to have it while they’re here. What a nice young, 23 year old guy! His next challenge? He’s planning on living in Sweden next, partly because they allow free education to any foreigner living there to study language, culture and customs. As we were leaving he introduced us to a Tarantula that he says hangs around. He talks of it like a pet.

What a wonderful evening, well, night. It was 11:30 PM when he finally dropped us off.

June 22, 2003
Cayenne to Kourou
69 Kilometers
WorldRiders2 are finally Back on Bikes!

The bags were packed, we dressed in our cycling cloths and headed for breakfast. It felt strange, we haven’t worn these cloths or clunky shoes in almost 2 months. Passersby must have felt the same, they stared as we clacked by in our strange shoes and clothing. Our final day on the sidewalk at Café Crème. We’ll miss this place. The coffee is strong and tasty, the croissants very French.

With the new bags thanks to Ortlieb, we’re pretty colorful. Geez, we’ve forgotten how it feels to ride in traffic. It was 9:00 AM when we got out the door and into it. First stop, Alan’s Welding Shop. I wanted Cat to meet him and we want a picture of him. He was happy to see us and happy to pose. His firm handshake reconfirmed his feelings of admiration for our efforts.

Onward, to the traffic circle, around in traffic and out onto the Highway. Strange yes, but not foreign. We easily slipped into our cycling groove. Unfortunately, we ran out of shoulder and felt cars coming too close. Tight, yes but the road surface is good.

Hungry and hot, we pulled into a farm looking for shade. The cattle had shade but there was little for us. We sat in a strip of it on grass and leaned against the covered corral fence. The floppy eared brahmas paid us little mind. Cat is over heated and red in the face. We brought a baguette, ham and cheese along. They filled us as we cooled slightly in our little batch of shade.

A Snake From the Grass

Of interest, lots of dead snakes on the road. By the way that’s the only snake that Cat feels comfortable around, a dead one. She fears that they are now lying in wait, in the grass, hoping to make a meal of her. Even my assurances that they can’t swallow us and they’re only protecting themselves, doesn’t faze her, she’s steadfast in her feelings of dislike and fear. The first that caught our eye was a big, beautiful shiny green, stretched out in the sun and shimmering. It must have been 5 feet (2 ¼ meters) long? We were on a down hill run or I would have a picture for you here. We did stop to shoot a bright red with black stripes. Even though I assured Cat that it was deader than dead she wouldn’t get close. Very French

At 2:30 we rolled into Kourou. First stop, a Service Station for popsicles. Sitting on the curb in shade, we shared one then I got another. Cooled slightly we continued only to learn that we still had 3 Ks to go. Hotel Atlantis was a Mercure but is no longer. Cat felt that the rooms there pretty plain, they have no English language TV and the price of 85 Euros steep. So off we went down the road to the new Mercure. Here we didn’t get past the front desk The sign said, weekend special, 160 Euros. That we cold do but, WRONG! It’s 160 Euros per day? Wow, the desk clerk conferred with the manager then offered us a deal, 110 Euros, not including breakfast.

Californians in Kourou

We knew that we had to ride on but hated to go back to the other place. A couple of guys standing nearby spoke up, suggesting other places, in English. Another wow, both Ted and John are from Palo Alto in northern California. They’re here for a launch. Yes, this is the commercial Rocket Capital of the world. We were joined by three others as I shot a picture. They too were Californians but weren’t quite as open and friendly as Ted and John. (Ted is the shaved head next to Cat and John the light blue t-shirt and big mustache.)

Our chatter was like a family reunion then they told us of two other Hotels that we might like, better. Sort of sorry to leave all these Californians behind but, budget called and we rode toward town. This place is as spread out as Los Angeles. Not as big but wide for the size of it. There seems to be clusters of commercial places in scattered residential areas.

A FOHI Rocket Scientist

Seeking a nice bottle of white we stopped at the Match Super Marche. Oh dear, closed until 4:30. We chose to go across the street to McDonalds for a soft drink. As we sipped we heard more familiar English spoken at the next table. Not surprisingly, Gilbert and Daniel are also from California and here for a launch. Also no big surprise, they’re from California, too. They’re with Boeing Aerospace. Gilbert told us that the company is in El Segundo. When I told him that I lived in Redondo Beach when I was a kid he said, “I don’t live there, I live in Fontana, do you know where that is”?

“Do I know where that is, I graduated from Fontana High School”.

Gilbert was astounded then I was amazed. “I graduated from FOHI, too”!

Geez, a Rocket Scientist from FOHI? I graduated, just barely, from FOHI in 1957. Gilbert is class of ‘78’ and his wife is class of ‘80’. More strange coincidence, our daughter Lori graduated from FOHI, class of ‘80’. Do Lori and Gilbert’s wife, Sandra know each other? That one will have to wait to be answered later.

Another interesting tidbit from Gilbert, he said that they’re here because their Long Beach Launch was cancelled? Long Beach California? Well they call it Long Beach but the launch actually is shot from south of the Hawaiian Islands, a sea launch. Interesting too, they use Russian Rockets there.

During my days at FOHI I dreamed of Rocket Flight, in fact I told Gilbert and Daniel of my experiments.

Rockets in Fontana 50 Years Ago

There was an old Munitions Military Base north of Fontana back then. My brother Jerry and I and a couple other friends found an open bunker there and a big tube of black gun powder. The place had been converted and a Fireworks Company was using it for storage. Along with the powder we found aluminum flare casings. The top portions were about 10 inches long. The bottoms 2 inches, with a small detonator cap. We took dozens of each and got into the Rocket Launching Business. A couple of boards nailed together in a V shape became our launch pad. We would fill one of the flare casings with power then remove the detonator cap and gently pound that onto the full casing. Launching was simple, put a match head in the hole where the detonator had been, light it and run. We had some very good flights, up to 275 meters (600 feet), until our luck ran out. Our final launch had an ignition problem. The first match head fell through the hole. Another set and fired but as we lit it too fell into the hole. We were just venturing back toward the pad when KABOOM. Our aluminum vehicle had blown to bits. Once we were sure we were okay we started grabbing our things and preparing to evacuate. Sirens were wailing and neighbors came running. We were caught. The concussion broke windows all over the neighborhood. When the Police and Fire Department arrived they were less than happy. We were forced to confess then taken to the tribunal of Mom and Dad. They’re tough, they told the Police that we would have all broken windows replaced and in Mom’s words, “Never, ever pull a stunt like that, again”.

Finding Hotel Des Roche wasn’t easy. This town spreads like a bad weed. It’s at roads end, where the Rive Le Kourou meets the Ocean Atlantique. The hotel is okay but the price was shocking. Almost as much as the Mercure. Just as we were ready to mount up and ride all the way back to the Atlantis the woman mentioned their sister Hotel, across the street. It’s a bargain rate, for here, 64 Euros. We pushed across and were greeted by a host of French National Police. They must stay here when pulling guard duty in Guyane?

The room is simple, the carpet dirty and worn but, we do have AC, TV and a hot water shower. We took the deal. The sign says “No Biciclette” in the stark and faded lobby area. With complete disregard we pushed them in, into the elevator then down the hallway to the room. Cat was showering as I set up the computer and watched today’s news. The friendly desk clerk said, “So, you take the room”? Geez, we forgot to go back, register and pay. Funny, they require that we pay in advance. I convinced her that we’d come before dinner.

The only English language programming on TV is ESPN. So we began a 2 day sports marathon. Not just sports but unique sports like Badminton, Kickboxing and our true favorite, a Woman’s Billiards Tournament. I set up the computer then showered. We relaxed, typed and watched an exciting Billiards Match.

Dusk as we walked to the other Hotel for dinner. This has to be the safest Hotel in town. There are at least 2 dozen Police and Military guys hanging around the doorway. First stop, pay the lady. The Hotel Restaurant up stairs and down the long corridor. Tough to find the first time and a long walk but the view of the pool and Atlantique made up for it.

Fresh fish from the sea. Slow service, good food.

June 23, 2005
A Visit to C. S. G. (Centre Spatial Guyanais)

Other than having to compete with a swarm of tiny ants for the fresh fruit, the breakfast is quite good, typically for here, it’s expensive, too. Early start because we’ve arranged for a Taxi at 7:30 AM. Amazing, this town has no transit system? The lady at the desk told us that the Taxi would cost about 9 or 10 Euros. The driver laughed when we argued, he was firm but friendly, 15 Euros, 15 kilometers. We have to be at the Space Center by 8:00 AM for the tour. Interesting, when the Hotel called to book us they already had our names? Jeremy, bless his heart.

Our driver was right, it’s a long way out of town. We arrived just after 8:00 due to the rush hour traffic. Lots of people gong to work. This place is the main employer in Kourou. The tour is free, our guide, Gregory Bernard told us that it is all in French except the Video we’ll see. He has enough English that he can answer questions. He led our group of 30 into a large control room. There are dozens of TV monitors on the wall but only a couple of guys watching. Gilbert had told us that his satellite was to have been heaven bound in just a few days. It is combined with another from a smaller company. The other guys got their machine into the Rocket and slipped the switch but there was no life. They worked for several hours then had to scratch the launch. The John, Ted and the other guys will move up and launch first but not until about July 7. Maybe that explains the lack of action?

We donned head sets and heard the story, the orientation, in English. Gregory also gave us a booklet with much of the same info, in English. The Commercial Space Center has been operational since 1980 NS has orbited more than 250 satellites. In fact they boast that 2/3rds of the world’s satellites began their service life here, in Kourou.

Gregory Demonstrates

Gregory then herded us onto a very comfortable bus for a tour of the launch areas. There are no ships on the pads, perhaps due to the cancellation of Gilbert and Daniel’s flight? We did see the enormity of the Spaceport and launch sites where Ariane 4s used to lift off. Even a visit to the Ariane 5 pad where Gilbert’s payload will eventually lift off in a cloud of smoke and roar of thunder.

Back inside a facility near the launch pads, Gregory Bernard explained details and answered questions then we bussed back to the Gift Center and Museum. When we asked about a bus back to town Gregory Bernard shook his head sympathetically then spoke to the crowd. A woman and young boy approached and said, “We give you ride but after visit museum. We’d decided not to spend the time or money to see the displays of satellites and rockets so we sipped a cold drink and waited.

The woman, Sarah and son, Gauthier tried to talk but words in English didn’t come easy. She told us that her husband, Didier would be at home and speaks English. He wasn’t at home when we arrived. We’d asked Sarah to drop us at the Internet Shop. She didn’t know where to find one so, invited us to use their computer at home. We met the other 2 kids, Florian and Jessica then Sarah led us to the computer in their bedroom We were in the midst of reading messages when Didier came in. As gracious as the rest of his family, he explained that he’s stationed here with Special Forces. It’s a 2 year tour and they’ve been here for a year. He’s considering retiring next year. Although he seems pretty young to retire he told us that he has a special case as he served in the Foreign Legion in lots of HOT SPOTS in Africa, most of which we skipped.

After finishing our e-mail check we joined the family on the patio. They are as close as the picture here portrays. When we suggested calling a taxi he refused. Our plan is to check on tickets for the trip to Devil’s Island then get back to Hotel Des Roche. Didier insisted on driving us to the Port. The office was closed but a guy told him that all w have to do is show up tomorrow. He did learn that it’s an all day trip, leaving at 8:00 AM returning at 6:00 PM. No food or water, you must bring supplies along. It began to sound like less than fun to us. Didier dropped us at the door of the Hotel. He confessed that it has been several years since he spoke English. Although his skills were increasing with every sentence it was still difficult to communicate. We did understand his warm, friendly goodbye and invitation to visit them in France. A fine family, wonderful people.

Lunch at the Hotel Restaurant, we split a Steak and fries. This place is unbelievably expensive. Later we walked, in the scorching sun, to a little market, they call them Asian stores here. Water and wine as well as a moment of intense chess between a French speaking guy and English speaker with an Asian guy who, like us, was enjoying the fray.

Hot Chess

Back at our room, we dried the sweat and relaxed.

Dinner, a 5 Euro taxi ride to a pretty good Pizza then 5 Euro back. This place is really expensive.

June 24 2005
Rest in Kourou

We both awoke tired. Maybe the tour of the walk in mid day sun had zapped us? Or could it be that we are fatigued from the ride here? Either way, we lay back on the pillows and decided to stay and extra day.

Starting earlier, we walked toward the center asking as we went, for an Internet connection. Lots of attempts to help in French but to no avail. Then, a young boy told us to follow. We did and he delivered us to a Community Center. The girls at the door asked if we had a card? Like a Library Card we assumed? We handed them our WR2 card, they hemmed and hawed for a couple of minutes then invited us in. The best news, there is no charge for using the computer. In fact we were so happy that we took 2, one checked messages while the other entered new friends on our list. They finally shewed us out at 1:00, as they were closing for lunch.

A cheeseburger stop broke up the long hot walk back.

Our afternoon was spent on the journal and French TV with occasional kickboxing or Billiard tournaments. We’d tried to reach Gilbert several times, hoping to invite him to dinner. I wanted to talk with him. He finally called, their launch has been moved up so they’re working night and day. He apologized and we made a pact to stay in touch.

Dinner at the hotel, steak that was much better than lunch but equally as expensive.

June 25, 2005
Kourou to Sinnamary
60 Kilometers

Breakfast then check out and go by 8:30 AM. Well, they have a strange system here. You have to pay for your room in advance, each day. Then, as you exit the dining room, you pay for your meal at the front desk. They take no chances on anyone skipping out.

Back through the now familiar streets, past the other 2 hotels and onto the highway. Now, we wished that we’d paid the difference and stayed at the Mercure. English language TV and lots of Californians to talk with. Awe but they, like Gilbert, may have been working night and day readying for launch.

The road is generally flat, some little rolls but rideable. Traffic is moderate but courteous. The road surface is excellent, we made great time. The scenery is jungle and there are lots of Cat’s favorites, snakes, that didn’t make the crossing.

Hotel Le Fleuve is about 3 kilometers from town. We’d hoped that it would be after Sinnamary since we have a big stretch tomorrow. It’s before town and completely isolated. We arrived at 12:30.

Hot and sweaty, we got the bikes into the room with some resistance from the girl at the desk In fact I had one up and was loading the other in the elevator when the manager came up and suggested leaving them down. I told him that it was too late, he didn’t quite get it but shrugged as I rolled into the elevator.

Once again, no English language TV. In fact only 2 channels of French. We suited up, showered at the edge then jumped into the pool. It’s shallow but refreshing. There’s a waterfall that was nice to sit under and really cool down.

A sandwich for lunch, a relaxing journal afternoon then dinner down. There is a Birthday party going on. Grandma, her children and grandkids enjoying an evening together. The Manager’s wife and son are seated, the little guy is hyper and on a tricycle. Proud Dad told us that he’s only 2, he’s big and boisterous for a kid that age. He rides the trike through the tables, crashing into chairs. Mom and Dad seem to ignore his antics.

When the party got into full swing we were treated to music and fun. The birthday family members each did some sort of entertainment. There are 3 girls, well, women, who are really talented. One plays piano, the others sing and dance. I missed a great rendition of Cabaret when the battery on the camera died. A quick run to the room and I did get some of the other acts but none were as professional as the one missed. Darn it.

Cavaret

Kids

Quanta La Mera

The nice gal at the front desk made reservations at L’Auberge in Mana for tomorrow night. It’s more than 100 Ks and we feared getting there only to find, no room in the INN.

Sunday, June 26, 2005
Sinnamary to Mana
111 Kilometers

Breakfast then out the door by 8:30 AM. Good news, it’s much cooler today. We clicked off 30 Ks, into Iracoubo in short time. 8 au Huit (8 to 8 in French) is a franchise group of small grocery stores. We pulled in and while Cat shopped I talked with Simeon and Georges-Alain. Simeon actually got the conversation rolling. He’s from Benin but has lived in Ghana, Africa where they speak English Really a nice guy, here teaching school. Georges-Alain is a local but his Father is from the Democratic Republic of Congo. He was surprised that we’ve been to Coutonou, the Capital of Benin, on bikes. We laughed as we talked about the Motorcycle taxis that spew noise, smoke and stir up the dust.

Our decision was to roll onward rather than eat early. Time passed as we pedaled but there was really no place comfortable to stop. Pulled up at a covered place where a guy sells little bits of produce. He told us that we could sit in the shade here but that there’s a place just a way up the road where the woman caters to tourists. Found the road he described just as it started to rain. Another moment of indecision as the rain drops on the dirt raised little puffs of dust. No, it may be mud by the time we finish our sandwiches.

Onward then stopped at a side road and began to get sandwiches out when the deluge hit. We hustled onward in thick, pouring rain. Another little stand looked deserted so we huddled under the rickety tin roof. Tough to find places where the leaks didn’t get in the food or on us. Cat stood at first then I finally convinced her that sitting in sand wasn’t all that bad. Slow eating and watching the rain burned up a half hour.

The rain cooled things, we still have 43 Ks to go. The road is rolling but close to flat. Actually nice and refreshing. We rode over a big bridge and down to the outskirts of Mana at 4:30 PM. Turning the corner we realized that the Ville is 3 or 4 more Ks off the highway. 

Then a real dilemma, as we asked and struggling with French the Postmaster, Phillipe leaned out the second story window of his Post Office and spoke to us in English. The bad news, or worst news, L’ Auberge is another 32 Ks from here. More terrible news, the Hotel here in town is closed. The friendly Postmaster suggested asking the Sisters at the nearby Convent for a room. He said that they often allow people to stay.

A sign on the gate warned not to ring the bell until after 5:00, the prayer hour. We stood for about 3 minutes and watched the watch tick then on the hour, we rang the bell. A spindly legged African American Nun came out with more bad news, no rooms.

She suggested that a restaurant, Buffalo Bill’s has a room that they rent. Following her directions we wound through the little streets and up to a party in progress. Several people were sitting in a circle, drinking beers and talking. Nobody paid much attention to us. A guy on the fringe told Cat that they do have a room then asked the Owner Yannick, who told us that he couldn’t let us stay? We never did understand why? His wife is one of the seated, holding their 8 day old baby.

A young African American girl was sort of the life of the party. She laughs and dances around the group. A guy, the Chef at Buffalo we think, did a little dance with her that turned into a sort of sex act. Oh, not actually, they were fully clothed but her bumps and grinds were extremely suggestive. I have no excuse for not taking pictures of the show? Maybe I was in too much awe?

A couple of guys, Remi and Fred, standing and drinking beers asked if we wanted one. Of course we couldn’t refuse. They’re from Agriculture Pilots, you know, crop dusters, from Switzerland. They speak French but understood our quandary. Then Fred who does speak a little English told us not to worry, “You will sleep in my Bosses house”.

So we sipped and waited then learned that the Boss he was talking about Remi, when he told us to follow him. His flat is just around the corner and as Fred had said, “It’s nice”. An air conditioner was pumping comfort into the large, sparsely furnished living room. Our room is actually Remi’s daughter’s room. She’s in Paris right now. There’s also an AC in her room. And, a guest bath with hot and cold water. Our host gave us a tour then excused himself. He got the point across that they work long hard hours every day and this is their time to relax. When we told him that we wanted to buy his dinner he said, “No ees necessary”.

After a needed shower we returned and people watched until the restaurant opened at 7:00 PM. Delicious steaks, fries and salad for us. Fred and Remi came in and sat nearby with another Pilot, Daniel. When we asked for our check we quietly had Yannick charge us for Remi and Fred’s dinners, too. What a nice, to open his heart and door to strangers. Fred says that Remi hitchhiked around Europe and North Africa 20 years ago and lots of people helped him. He said that this is just a little pay beck. A big pay back from a great guy. We headed back to his apartment and bed at 9:00 PM. A long day.

June 27, 2005
Mana to St. Laurent du Maroni
49 Kilometers

Remi started rattling around at 6:00 AM. I got up and talked with him as he chugged down a carton of juice. He says the will fly 10 hours, then as he left he asked me to put the key, that’s on a Camel Hair rope from his Africa Days, ahead of the sock in his dress oxfords sitting in a row with he and his daughters other shoes. The living room is decorated with posters of Aero Poste, the French Airline that flew the mail from Europe to Africa then across to South America. I tried to tell him of our experience at Tan Tan Beach in Morocco. He mentioned the old name for Tan Tan but I’m not sure that he understood the story of the flying club we met there that traces the route annually. What a good guy. He did tell me to watch for him. He will fly near the highway we take to St. Laurent in a yellow bi-plane. I kick myself now, for not having taken his pic with the posters.

Another 8 au Huit and mediocre breakfast of coffee and croissants sitting in the sun out front. Our legs are tired and sore and cramping. We’d planned on a day off and trip to the beach in hopes of seeing the Giant Leatherback Sea Turtles. There’s no transportation from here to the beach, 32 Ks away. It was already hot as we pedaled away at 8:00 AM.

About 10 Ks out we watched Remi take off, leave across the fields then come winging back for more insecticide. He’s told us that they are spraying rice. He disappeared behind some trees then came up suddenly and flew fast just above the ground, back toward us in about 10 minutes. The pictures don’t do justice but we didn’t want to leave the highway and struggle through the dirt to get closer.

Remi Takes Off

A fast flat ride and we were at the St. Laurent Tourist Office just after noon. The girl, Auralee, was really helpful. She found room for us at Hotel La Teniaire, a building that used to house the offices of the famous Penitentiary that house famous and infamous for more than 100 years.

The Ville is quite picturesque, the Hotel nice. Our room is quite nice, we even got the bikes inside. There’s a patio, too but its too hot now and probably a great place to meet mosquitoes later today. I jumped into the swimming pool to cool. Cat showered. After my dip and shower we walked to Restaurant Chez Titi, suggested by both Auralee and Malenda, our hostess at the Hotel. Too bad neither of them knew that it’s closed on Mondays. So the sandwich we’d hoped for became Fried Rice and Lemon Chicken at a Chinese place. There are lots of Chinese restaurants here. Pretty good food, after all, and next door to the Internet Shop.

After an hour on the machines we walked back in the HOT SUN and relaxed in front of our cool AC.

Dinner at another place suggested by both of the gals, Tropical Gardens. The place is filled with French tourists. The food was quite good and we got into a broken conversation with the couple next to us. She’s a Policewoman, on the Border Patrol. Our questions about Suriname were either lost in translation or she just didn’t know anything. She did give us her telephone number and asked us to call tomorrow. She will talk with a guy on the Suriname side?

Pizza and Pasta, the perfect cycling food.

No English language TV, an hour of channel surfing and French watching then lights out at 9:00 PM.

June 28, 2005
A Rest in St, Laurent
Earl The Pearl, Cat’s Dad is 86 years young, today.

Breakfast at a cost of 7 Euro each but it is to our taste. Plenty of fresh bananas, papaya and juice. Good croissants and thick, rich coffee.

A Visit to Le Camp de la Transportation
The Prison of Dreyfus and Papillion

As we passed a Pharmacy on the way to Le Camp we decided to buy some Cipro to replace that used in purging my diarrhea. Yes, I finally had to give in and cure the curse. Hate taking antibiotics but that’s way ahead of constant Guff Guff. Benito, one of the Pharmacists has a unique look so I got a photo. Chiara and Claude talked with Cat and got the Cipro. Claude says that they usually need a prescription for both Cipro and Nexium. She would work around that but she couldn’t do a thing about the high prices. We decided to wait on the drugs but that lead to a discussion about Suriname. Cat has been a little nervous about crossing and both the gals told her not to worry. They often go to shop and think it’s safe.

At the Tourist Office we bought tickets to Le Camp then scurried off to take the tour. Lost at first, we explored and asked. Most of the old buildings are used for community events. There are Little Theater and music groups rehearsing. A guy shouted for us to come to him. Claude is our guide. The French name doesn’t fit his very AmerIndian looks. He is Caribe, a tribe that flourished all along the sea, here. Though he said that the only speaks French, his English got better and better as we walked ant talked.

This place was home, at least for a while, to all prisoners sent here from France. It was the place where Prisoners were separated and shipped to outer lying Prisons like Devils Island. The weather is very hot, we could only imagine being stuck here, having to live here in terrible conditions, for years. Maybe for the remainder of your life. Some sleep rooms are just concrete pads with steel bars to shackle people’s feet to. There are also small cells for individuals. One of those was Papillion, who was accused of murder but managed to escape. Yes, the same guy the movie was all about. Claude knows his stuff and kept us interested. His stories of the Guillotine are spell binding. Stuff like how the other prisoners were required to watch. How the Priest would hold the still living head up high and pronounce the poor guy as having paid his debt to his country as his eyes dulled and glazed over. What a way to go.

Cat in Shackle

After the tour we heard music and followed our ears to one of the buildings. There, a guy, Carlos, with dreadlocks to his waist, was arranging instruments, preparing for a practice session. What a nice guy, he told of living in Suriname for his first 2 years then his family moved to Holland. He was raised there but felt compelled to return to his roots. He plays guitar with the group. Why French Guyane? He thinks there are more opportunities here but needs to learn French before he can find work. Lucky guy, he has Dutch EU Citizenship thus he can live here because this is part of France. He’ll have to get a Visa to get back into Suriname. We really enjoyed talking with him. Even convinced him to do “You Must Be Crazy” in Sranan Tongo.

"You Must be Crazy" Sirinaams Tongo

Pizza for lunch at Chez Titi, a lazy afternoon under the AC then dinner, again, at Chez Titi. Great steak and veggies.

Jeremy to the Rescue!

As we prepared for bed and talked about cycling into Suriname, I had an idea. Since Jeremy is coming to Parimaribo to meet his parents, why not ask him to carry the heaviest of our things? Oh yes, and the most expensive of them, too, to avoid loss if we run into more highway robbers. We called and he was excited about helping. He’ll start driving here at 3:00 AM day after tomorrow and meet us for breakfast.

June 29, 2005
Taxi Confrontation, Journal, Internet and Chez Titi

Our hopes to travel to the land of Giant Sea Turtles was thwarted, there’s just no transportation other than Taxi which would cost way over budget. And it may only be a trip to a beach. Most of the big gals come ashore and lay eggs at high tide during the night. So, a leisurely breakfast as we watched the rain pour down on the pool.

For me, a day of pictures and journal words. Cat rearranged the things in our bags, that which we’ll carry and that which Jeremy will transport. Then we did a team thing getting them into our lovely matched plastic luggage.

Going slightly stir crazy, Cat headed out for an Internet session. The rain was still pouring so she asked Malenda at the front desk about a Taxi. She said that it would cost 1 Euro so Cat had her call. The guy arrived, Cat dashed into the downpour and to the taxi door. When she asked the guy quoted 3 Euro. Cat was taken aback, she tried to tell him that the Hotel had told her 1. He was adamant, she resisted pointing out that it is only 3 blocks. He only quoted his price, “3 Euro”. She closed the door, came in and told me what had happened then donned her poncho and started walking.

I was pecking away when Malenda called asking what was wrong with the Taxi? I told her the story and she said, “Well that’s his price”. I tried to tell her that it was a communication problem. She quoting 1 Euro and the driver 3. She didn’t get it and told me that the driver was angry. I apologized but accepted no blame.

I need a break, so off to the Internet Shop. As we walked a Taxi Van drove past, Cat said, “That’s the Taxi Driver that tried to charge me 3 Euros”. He came to a sudden stop, hopped out and confronted us. “Why do you treat me like a dog? Why do you slam the door in my face”? He’s a big guy and won’t listen or maybe doesn’t understand that this is a mis-understanding. Malenda had suggested that the ride to Internet would cost 1 Euro. When he wanted to charge 3 Cat felt that he was cheating her. I tried to negotiate, Cat tired of the game and went inside. Obviously not getting through, I said, “If you believe that my wife insulted you, then I apologize”. He accepted, jumped into his van, gunned the engine and roared away.

Internet and lunch food for picnic in the room. We started to sit outside on our patio but slipped back inside when we spotted mosquitoes.

Cat ventured out again, the rain has dwindled to a drizzle. She has a list of needed things. Me, more typing. She returned with the goods, we filled the bags and panniers then threw them on the bikes. We’re ready to roll.

A short discussion then back to Chez Titi for dinner. We love the place, atmosphere and food.

Early to bed, we also love the sheets, pillow cases and firm mattress. At times we forget how much difference a good bed makes when needing a good nights sleep.

June 30, 2005
St. Laurent, French Guyane to Moengo, Suriname
52 Kilometers

Up and at em’ early. Jeremy was just a few minutes late for our 7:00 AM meeting. He was followed by a motorcycle, his friend Jacques. We shared coffee, breakfast and stories. Jacques is teaching here in St. Laurent. He’s originally from Poland but his family made their way to France when he was 6 years old. He also studied later in Holland and England. A very bright and friendly guy.

Jacques said his goodbyes and rode away. We made a plan, put the bags in Jeremy’s car and have him follow us to the boat dock then park at his friends place and come back. He’s leaving the car here because he isn’t insured in Suriname.  

"You Must be Crazy" Taki Taki

"You Must be Crazy" Creole & French

As we were checking out we talked Malenda into doing “You Must be Crazy” in both Taki Taki and Creola. Her husband, Jean Francois, even joined in with a French version in the background. We have enjoyed our stay and part of the joy is this family. Yes, they live in quarters just off the front desk. They’re raising 2 kids and running their business.

We pedaled hard and Jeremy followed. He thought we’d be able to get a private boat but the Immigration Guards required that we ride the Ferry. So, it will be too long a walk to get to his parking place and back by boat time. I saw a guy in a van, talking with other locals. The sign on the van suggested that it was for hire. I asked if he could quickly follow then bring Jeremy back. For a couple of Euro he could.

The Ferry is small but they really packed the trucks and cars on. There was a group of guys in new cars, probably ferrying them in fleet to Suriname. A young guy watching us started conversation with Jeremy. Moustafa is from Marseille, France currently living in Paramaribo. He helped us get the bags off the Ferry after the cross river trip. Interesting, the Captain headed up stream first then let the current carry us down past the dock and around then he applied the power and slipped us ashore.

On shore and an easy passage through the Immigration and Customs checks. Moustafa continued to help carry the bags. It was farther than we thought to the area where Taxis wait like vultures. Once there it was almost embarrassing, the way they pushed and the way Jeremy and Moustafa resisted until they found the right ride. We helped get the bags inside then bid them adieu and cycled down the street. Albina, the border town is a typical border town. Plenty of money changers, taxi drivers and shady looking characters. We decided to get out of town and on the road. The driver of Jeremy’s taxi van told us to go down then turn left and hit the main highway. Slightly incorrect, we had to double back. Our hope of seeing Jeremy and Moustafa pass faded, they must have gone around the correct way and left ahead of us.

Setting off, we were into the unknown. The road is a canyon of green. This is as much Rain Forest as any we saw on the Amazon. The road surface is bumpy and there are some little ups and downs. Our initial fear of traffic faded as the cars and trucks pulled past, gave us wide berth and honked or waved. It’s good to be noticed and appreciated.

An aggregate stripe wonders down the road. Sure that it was the work of some poor quality pipeline or utility workers, we were surprised later to find that it was part of the Civil War or rebellion that plagued Suriname in the mid 1980s. The commander is said to have used a ditch digger to disrupt the road surface and slow the advance of the Suriname Army.

Making good time, we were close to Moengo when we stopped for a soft drink at Ian Store. Ian and his wife Merela reminded me of earlier years in my life. I owned a small store in Boron, California when I was in my mid to late 20s. They too are a young couple, working long hours and eking out a living. It’s hard work and nobody knows that better than I. It was fun talking with them. Ian told us that we were actually already in Moengo but the town, bank, restaurant and market were about 2 Ks further along.

Rolling along the main street we found ourselves in huge throngs of students. They were boisterous and happy to be out of school. One stepped into our pathway, let me slip past then made a kissing sound and leaned toward Cat. She thought he was going to spit on her so just swerved and rode past. I started to slow but she urged me not to go back or make a big deal of it. The students all laughed.

We found the bank where Cat changed Euros for Surinamese Gilders. A hold over from the old Dutch Days. Funny, the Dutch traded a place called New Amsterdam for this little piece of isolated jungle. You know, the same piece of Real Estate that the Dutch bought from American Indians for $24.00 worth of beads and trinkets. Yes, Manhattan Island and New York City. Probably seemed like a good deal at the time.

Next stop, a place called Motel 1,2,3,4. It’s operated by the Bauxite mine. The mine is now owned by an Australian Company but was Alcoa for many years. The Guard in the little gate house had us wait while he called to see if they had a room. A guy that spoke good English came up and told us of working for Alcoa for more than 20 years. He’s a safety engineer in charge of checking fire extinguishing equipment. Nice fellow. Bad news form the Gate Guard. All rooms are taken. More than disappointed, we were nervous, where will we sleep? The Guard pointed to a plain looking place across the fields.

The exterior of Moenga Mijnwerkersbond is old and run down. They did have a room, not great but better than trying to find a place to safely camp. The gal that checked us in suggested that there is a little Restaurant down the street. Although the room is simple, so is the price. At $16.50 we are saving some of the money we’ve spent in French Guyane where our rooms ranged between $65 to $85 US.

We may not have found the restaurant our lady had mentioned but we did wonder into the yard of a house with a sign for “Roti”. Thinking of Rotisserie Chicken, we rushed to the window. This Roti is a food of India, chapatti, bread like a tortilla with curried meat and vegetables. The woman didn’t seem interested in having us come inside so we got our sack of goods and headed back to our lair. We do have a table, a left over from the 50s, green hard surface with chrome trim and legs. It did a good job of holding the leaning bikes and allowing us seats to eat Roti.

A little time to relax, so we just lay back and even dozed a bit. The heat takes it out of you.

The nearby store told us that the only restaurants nearby were Japanese and Chinese. She volunteered that she likes the Chinese, the food is sweeter. She volunteered that she will go to Holland next month. We were surprised and told her that was great, we’d cycled there. Then she volunteered that she was going for eye surgery. A growth that she’s had removed here, twice, keeps coming back. She held her eyelid up and let us look then burst into tears and told us that she’s lost a baby recently, too. Wow, a very uplifting conversation just before dinner.

Memories of Africa in This Blend

We sought the Japanese place but it was either closed or she gave us bad info in her emotional state. There was a place down the street so we walked only to find that it’s just another store. Back to what the unlucky lady had called Chinese. The Father, Son and Daughter in Law definitely looked Chinese. This reminds us, the population here according to Lonely Planet, is a wild mix. 35% are East Indian, a blend of Muslim and Hindu. 32% are Afro-Surinamese (Creoles) 15% are Indonesian and about 10% are Maroons, the descendents of escaped slaves. Most of these inhabit the interior where they rebuilt their lives based upon memories of Africa. There are a few Europeans but too few to make the count.

The Chinese Restaurant is more a liquor store then restaurant. They have most of it caged off with the merchandise behind the cage. They hand a cigarette and shot of whiskey or a beer through a gap in the bars. They do have 3 tables with chairs outside the cage. We saw the menu on a piece of cardboard and chose Chow Mein. It’s pretty much the same noodles and rice we have had in Bami and Nasi. Lots of comings and goings as the locals began enjoying the spirits of the evening.

The Lock Down!

We’d almost finished our food and the bottle of wine we’d brought along when all hell began to break loose. Lots of noise from up the sidewalk then a guy ran in and said something that set what must be an often used plan into action. They rolled the steel door on the side down. Then pulled the door of bars shut on the front and bolted it with a huge padlock. They quickly move a table near the door with the bottle to dispense shots and a pile of cigarettes. They also put 4 cans in a row with coins to make change. This must happen often, they were ready and seemed happy. It did increase business as the wild ones outside smoked and drank to bolster courage.

We were on the inside looking out as the action spilled down the shopping center toward us. We may never know what the problem was but in the only other mining town I have experience with it would probably have been over a woman. Several tough looking guys stood just outside, glancing at us occasionally between buying cigs and shots. When we finished our food Kwan, the son, had us move behind a wall, out of visual range.

When things began to calm we asked about leaving and the Father motioned for us to stay where we were. Later as most of the crowd drifted away we tried to ask if there was a Taxi. We can see the Motel but it’s across a dark field and we were afraid to walk. Then, Kwan indicated that he’d walk with us. As we started out the Lock Down Door, he checked his pocket. We thought he had a gun? When we indicated gun he laughed and pulled out his cell phone. Funny, he laughed, we didn’t but for some strange reason we felt safe. Maybe we figured that these guys wouldn’t mess with their supply of courage.

With the door locked and bolted, we lay back and relaxed. This is going to be an interesting part of our adventure.

July 1, 2005
Moengo to Paramaribo
135 Kilometers

Up early, no problem. We’re ready to flee this scene. Pushed out the door then next door to the store. They had juice and a sort of sweet bread roll. We sat on a bench out front and used the juice to wash the slightly stale bread down. A couple of cars drove up, left the motors running and dashed into the store. They left a mix of Gospel and Heavy Rock music ringing in the morning air. The Religious guys car was pristine, the Rockers a piece of junk.

It was already hot. Kwan was already out washing the evidence of last night’s profitable party off his sidewalk. Rode across for pictures and Cat posed inside the “Lock Down” door. Kwan & his Father posed, after a little convincing. Cat asked, fortunately, about going straight out to the Highway. I was sure we had to backtrack, that could have cost us at least 5 Ks on what’s already going to be a long ride.

The road is flat for the most part but the surface isn’t. Bumps and humps are the way of the day. About 2 hours out we stopped at a little house where the lady sells soft drinks. The entire family was sitting in the shade of an arbor, eating cereal. We took a seat next to a shy teenaged girl and had just started sippin’ when a car speeding past slammed on the brakes. Jeremy had seen us out of the corner of his eye. They pulled in and we met his Mom and Dad, Paula and Hugh. We bought them and the driver soft drinks then stood and chatted. They are quite nice people. They’re spending a week seeing and experiencing the places Jeremy has been living this past 10 months. Really nice people, no wonder Jeremy is such a nice young guy. Amazing, they’ll be back in New York before we get to Venezuela.

The Taxi Driver told us that he thought Paramaribo was about 55 Ks further along. Pressing along, we had to take shelter for half an hour when the rain poured buckets. Stuck under the eaves of a deserted building, we watched the locals and a few travelers come and go from a nice little restaurant. For us, it was a ham and cheese sandwich.

Drizzle to mist, the trees and grass smell great after the rain. This is a rain forest, no doubt. For us it was just pedal and go. The canyon of green enveloped us as we rolled along. Then, like a giant sentinel, the bridge. It’s imposing, almost like a barrier. The Paramaribo River is all that stands between us, good food and a clean bed. We really had to pedal hard but made it, up and over. The picture from the top is underwhelming. You had to be there to experience the feelings of accomplishment and enjoy the sweeping view.

Headlong Into Keti Koti

A fast ride down then a swing to the right and we were soon in city streets. Lost a bit, we checked the map and decided it was a straight shot. Rounding the corner into the heart of town, we found ourselves in a slow moving stream of humanity. People, Maroons, those whose relatives came here as slaves, are celebrating Keti Koti, the day of the broken chains. Yes, this is Abolition Day or Emancipation Day. Just 3 days ahead of our own Independence Day in the good ol’ USA, this event way overshadows our throwing out the Tea, then the Brits. This is a real celebration of Independence. Funny, it brought thoughts of the same day in the USA . There was the Emancipation Proclamation, the bloody days of Civil War but no celebration of Abolition? We don’t have a holiday celebrating such a huge event?

Intimidating at first, but the further we pushed into the fray the more comfortable we became. Families dressed to the hilt. Colors of Africa, bright dresses and hats. 3 different bands cranking out traditional blues to Reggae on stages along the street. This is a party, and they have a real reason to celebrate.

Jeremy has made a reservation for us at a Guest house but it’s quite a distance out of the center. Cat’s seen an ad in one of the brochures we picked up about a “Suites Hotel”. A couple of Police Officers knew the place, even walked with us to the corner then pointed. Zeelandia Suites looks great from the street. An outdoor restaurant under a natural arbor full of tables of happy people. We felt sure it would be beyond our budget. Surprise, the gal at the desk fiddled with her calculator for quite a while then quoted the price in Suriname Guilders, including the weekend special. So, how much is that in US Dollars? Surprise, she rattled a little more on her machine then said, “Thirty Eight dollars”. WE confirmed, $38 a day”? She shook her head affirmatively. Cat ran up and looked, came back excited and said, “Deal”!

We took all the bags off and lashed the bikes to a pipe in a covered storage area, inside a security fence. The room is on second floor so it was a lot of carrying. Well, the room is actually 2 rooms, a real suite. The bedroom has a big screen TV with CNN and balcony overlooking the active restaurant. Breakfast is included, too. At this price we may just stay here forever?

The shower felt especially good, we’ve accumulated lots of sweat and dirt today. We calculate 135 Kilometers in 9 hours of cycling. Thank goodness the road was mostly flat.

Another advantage, they take our Visa Card. Short on cash, this is another good deal. We ate under the trees along with the throng. Our choice from the somewhat limited menu was smoked pork chops and fries. Great tasting small portions, I ordered another dish. Thought I was getting a Kabob but as I ordered Cat asked for chicken instead of meat. It was not on a stick but it was chicken in a sweet batter. The waitress tried to explain, all we got was that it’s a Jewish food from the old days?

We’d just settled in to an evening of CNN News when all heck broke loose. A Brass Band cam marching down the street and into the restaurant. We watched from the balcony then through our cloths back on and went down to get into the midst of a real Independence Day celebration. The band reacts to a whistle from the leader. The sway and step back and forth as one. A line of girls set the pace with fancy foot work. As tired as we were we couldn’t help moving with them. The joy of the crowd is overwhelming.

Abolition

Brass Band

Very little TV, then lights out and the sound of happiness lulled us into sound sleep.

July 2, 2005
Walk and Shop, 3 Guy Confrontation

Our included breakfast is okay. Fresh juice, eggs and ham, toast and coffee. After, we walked to Fort Zeelandia and “Onafhankelijksplein”, Independence Square and the Presidential Palace. Walked by the Palmentuer (Palm Tree Park). The streets are virtually deserted today.

First things first, we grabbed a Taxi and went to the Guest House Jeremy had booked for us. Not to move there, to pick up our bags. Ravi, the Manager was friendly and gracious. He did try to get us to move back but we explained that it is way too far from town and the services we need. The driver waited patiently as Ravi explained the place and insisted that we take a look at a room. Frankly, we’re so happy where we are that we’d never move out.

Back to our Suite, we learned that we have a dedicated line for Internet access. So, I got us plugged in and we checked with the family and friends. Then, I put the books that cost so much to buy and ship, not including the mental anguish DHL dished out to us, to good use. Yes, the study materials are connected to an Internet Site. The courses require open book exams. I have reviewed the material so opened the Site and set about renewing my Real Estate Brokerage License. This process devoured much of my afternoon.

Cat walked a bit then returned and we set off looking for a Grocery Store. The walk took us through the neighborhood of old wooden homes. As we walked a guy sitting in the shade yelled to us then got up and started across the street. He was offering help but looked like he might want to take rather than give. A truck slowed and the driver yelled at him. They had a short exchange of words then the driver stopped near us. The scraggly looking guy turned and slinked back to his shady seat.

Thieves Thwarted?

Onward, we found the Market but found it to bee too crowded, almost an invitation to pickpockets. Cat caught a guy sort of following and watching us. The smaller shop across the street has wine so we got out of the fray and bought a bottle of Chilean wine and 3 bottles of Mineral water there. Hands full of bags, we set out in drizzling rain. About a block along, we found 3 guys including the one who had been shadowing us, sitting under a tree. As we approached they got up and started toward us. Nervous, Cat began to drift toward the street. I called out and asked her to come with me, into an open Computer Shop. We stood, asked about buying CDs and kept our eyes on the window and the 3 young guys hanging around out front under the awing. Finally, fearing that they were just waiting us out, we had the shop owner call a Taxi. Better safe than sorry!

The boys watched as we loaded into the Taxi. Maybe they were just seeking shelter from the drizzle? However, we felt like they were un-counting chicks that they had counted before the plan was fully hatched? We smiled and waved past the boys, at new friends, Jetty and Stephan, in the shop, through the slow slapping windshield wipers.

Back to the computer, a few new e-mails and a little more work on the License renewal. We’re sort of forced to eat at the Hotel Restaurant. Oh, we like the place but might also like a little variety but, they charge the meals to our room. We’ve been hesitant to get a lot of cash as Suriname is so small that we won’t be here too long. So, dinner down, again. Cat tried a local dish, I went with the old faithful, chicken.

A little TV then sleep. .

Sunday, July 3, 2005
Seeing Local Sights

After a leisurely breakfast out under the trees we went walking. The sign said “Free Tours” of the old fort on Sundays. The walk is warm but pleasant if we stay in the shade. At the gate to the Fort a nice older fellow held his hands out, one with tickets the other wanting money. Well, we have little money so we reminded him of the sign about free tours on Sunday. He smiled then said, “Cost of tour is free, fee to enter isn’t”.

Okay, we thanked him and moved on. We’re not very good Museum tourists anyway. So, we just walked, shot photos and enjoyed a day in Paramaribo.

After lunch downstairs we were introduced to Marten, a local who speaks great English and he should. He was a Fulbright Scholar and earned a PHD at Cornell University in New York. He and his wife spent 4 years in the States during his education. He ended the conversation with an invitation to visit his family.

International Inequity

The young guy at the Travel Desk, Andy Chino, is handsome and interested in our trip. He did some work on finding Hotels and restaurants along the route between here and Guyana. He told us a sad story that may have something to do current paranoia back home. He has just turned 26 and his Father offered to take him traveling, anywhere he would like to go. He chose the good ol’ US of A but found the going too tough when it came to getting a Visa. Suriname doesn’t require that we have to apply or pay for a Visa. On the other hand, we of the US have a very strict process and Visa requirement. His Father found it no problem other than the $100 filing fee, to get his Visa. Andy on the other hand handed in $100 and a fully filed out form then was told the next day that he wasn’t eligible. Even though he is traveling with his Father, he’s in a profile that is always turned down. Young without wife, property or lots of money in the bank. Even knowing that he’s being married later this year, he still couldn’t make the cut. His profile has nothing to do with Terrorism, our Government fears that he’ll stay in the US and take a job. Oh, even though they know right away that he doesn’t fit, they never, ever refund the $100 fee. Andy makes $10.00 US per day, his $100 is a great loss.

Most of the afternoon was spent in room. Cat watched a movie while I completed my License renewal courses.

Dinner down, again.

CNN news, Larry King and Aaron Brown.

July 4, 2005
Completing Continuing Education

As Ca