Viaja solo desde Canada en su Harley-Davidson 45" 1943tiene 12 meses de viajar y esta en CR
Puede ver el video en You Tube
San Jose, Costa Rica, august 27th 2009
The second attempt to leave La Vida Loca is succesfull. The first one on sunday turns into a late night party, what else can I say, I like Jimbo’s parties. On mondaynight, despite good intentions, it gets late again but this time I don’t sleep in & we leave. Sweet memories swirl in my brain as I take Betsy for her final spin on the beach. As Marcus and me ride out of town it rains, just a little bit and that will be on and off during the day. On some unpaved road of about 15 miles I’m just happy it’s dry. We could reach San Jose before dark if we wanted but it doesn’t seem smart to me, everybody says the city is a traffic nightmare. So we sleep in Atenas, which is supposed to have world’s best climate, always between 17 and 37 degrees Celcius.
Next day we hit San Jose easily. Can’t be missed. Soon we loose our way in town, just no directions! I stop at a gassattion. The guys there can’t really help me, but a mecanic next door can. When we walk together out of his small but deep transmission shop, he almost jumps in the sky from joy seeing Betsy. You believe in coincidence? This guy owned a bike like mine when he lived in Texas. Blindfolded he can name and point all typical Harley flathead parts. He has a nice solution for our destiny for the day, hotel La Castilla, managed by Darren, a friend of Jimbo’s. He calls his buddy Johann who has a day off. Within half an hour he shows up on a 1966 Harley. It takes a small hour to ride up to the hotel. Next Johann (see me and Johann riding through the San Jose streets at YouTube, press on: Johann) directs me through motorcycle shops and H-D dealers. I find my oilfilter and buy the genuine heavy weight (single grade 60) oil, yihaa! When we are back at Dante’s shop to change the oil, he tells me that a lot of people showed up when we left his place on our bikes. The guys of the gassation where unanymous talking about Betsy and me, ‘man that guys’s gotta have either big balls or no brains’, they just couldn’t or wouldn’ believe I drove a 1943 motorcycle all the way from Alaska to Costa Rica.
The hotel is in the heart of the nightclub area. Ever since Nicaragua I’ve been hearing stories about La Rey in San Jose, Central America’s most famous brothel. In the evening Dave, one of the regulars of the hotelbar takes me on a cultural tour. From club to bar to club to bar, a beer at every joint, to La Rey to the bar the daughter of his girlfriend works as a bartender. Dave could be my father but he almost turns in to my father-in-law when I meet his ‘daughter’. I had to take a deep breath to leave. Going by cab we skip the transvestites, well, I couldn’t see it but the ‘experts’ tell me they are boys, but sure good-looking ones!
Friday going into the direction of Panama.
The second attempt to leave La Vida Loca is succesfull. The first one on sunday turns into a late night party, what else can I say, I like Jimbo’s parties. On mondaynight, despite good intentions, it gets late again but this time I don’t sleep in & we leave. Sweet memories swirl in my brain as I take Betsy for her final spin on the beach. As Marcus and me ride out of town it rains, just a little bit and that will be on and off during the day. On some unpaved road of about 15 miles I’m just happy it’s dry. We could reach San Jose before dark if we wanted but it doesn’t seem smart to me, everybody says the city is a traffic nightmare. So we sleep in Atenas, which is supposed to have world’s best climate, always between 17 and 37 degrees Celcius.
Next day we hit San Jose easily. Can’t be missed. Soon we loose our way in town, just no directions! I stop at a gassattion. The guys there can’t really help me, but a mecanic next door can. When we walk together out of his small but deep transmission shop, he almost jumps in the sky from joy seeing Betsy. You believe in coincidence? This guy owned a bike like mine when he lived in Texas. Blindfolded he can name and point all typical Harley flathead parts. He has a nice solution for our destiny for the day, hotel La Castilla, managed by Darren, a friend of Jimbo’s. He calls his buddy Johann who has a day off. Within half an hour he shows up on a 1966 Harley. It takes a small hour to ride up to the hotel. Next Johann (see me and Johann riding through the San Jose streets at YouTube, press on: Johann) directs me through motorcycle shops and H-D dealers. I find my oilfilter and buy the genuine heavy weight (single grade 60) oil, yihaa! When we are back at Dante’s shop to change the oil, he tells me that a lot of people showed up when we left his place on our bikes. The guys of the gassation where unanymous talking about Betsy and me, ‘man that guys’s gotta have either big balls or no brains’, they just couldn’t or wouldn’ believe I drove a 1943 motorcycle all the way from Alaska to Costa Rica.
The hotel is in the heart of the nightclub area. Ever since Nicaragua I’ve been hearing stories about La Rey in San Jose, Central America’s most famous brothel. In the evening Dave, one of the regulars of the hotelbar takes me on a cultural tour. From club to bar to club to bar, a beer at every joint, to La Rey to the bar the daughter of his girlfriend works as a bartender. Dave could be my father but he almost turns in to my father-in-law when I meet his ‘daughter’. I had to take a deep breath to leave. Going by cab we skip the transvestites, well, I couldn’t see it but the ‘experts’ tell me they are boys, but sure good-looking ones!
Friday going into the direction of Panama.
