All the way south

After spending more time than I planned getting to the border, I am finally here! Here’s the thing though: Whatever happens … happens. One of the things that most attracted me to a six month long road trip was that I did not need to follow a schedule. You _could_ make it to Mexico in a day, but why?

Heather and Gary are great friends that escorted me into Mexico with style at the hand-operated ferry across the Rio Grande at Los Ebanos. It lets two cars across at a time and then everyone gets out of their cars and helps pull the ferry through the water. The three of us on bikes realized the advantages of two wheels while waiting in line: No lines. We skipped possibly 30-45 minutes of line and went straight to the front. There they loaded us right next to the two cars that were already on the Ferry. It was a tight squeeze for my heffer of a bike. Gary and Heather had no problems with theirs.

Unfortunately, because of the rush of loading and unloading the ferry, I did not get any good shots of the bikes. Gary got some video that he will keep hidden to himself and never post on YouTube (yeah, I’m subtle, I know).
UPDATE: Thanks Gary for the Video

After disembarking from the ferry we instantly knew we were in Mexico. Buildings were no longer built out of wood, but white painted cement and stone. I didn’t hear a lick of English when talking to anyone on the streets or during my paperwork fiasco. H & G left and headed back to Austin. I started driving south.

Yeah, the paperwork. I thought I was going to be crafty and as a seasoned veteran of Mexico Motorcycle Travel I prearranged my vehicle import and used an entry point that did not have any government officials watching it other than some security. After driving the 30 minutes to make it back to Reyanosa, we found the puente international and presumably where I would go and just get a simple tourist visa. Wrong building. This only took me 45 minutes in talking to several people in my terrible spanish. Did I mention how bad my spanish is? I am not a “language person” and it does not come naturally to me. My ability to comprehend a spanish speaker is only as patient as they are willing to be. IFF the person whom I’m speaking to takes their time, annunciates, speaks loudly and slowly (YES. THIS. HELPS.), and most importantly cares to be understood by me, then I have very little problem following a conversation. This was not the case with the first round of people who I spoke to at the boarder. The first person was terse and just looked at me like I was a pinche gringo who had no business being here if I didn’t speak spanish. Eventually I was confident that I was in the wrong place and chose to walk about a 1/2 mile to the other building in full moto gear that takes care of vehicle registration AND tourist visas. Not just tourist visas. Eventually I got it all sorted out in the next building with broken spanish and very helpful government workers.

Why walk? Because I had the best parking spot ever, gaurded by my new friend with an automatic weapon. Thank you.

That was my first bike and armed guy photo in my trips to Mexico. I’m so happy now! This trip is already considered a success.

Day one of traveling solo and I’m loving it. So far it has been good roads and I met a new friend while swimming at my very harsh accommodation. They were so harsh that they had gaurded parking, 2 very clean beds, cable tv, air conditioning, breakfast buffet (not free), and a pool. We had some great conversations over tacos and beers.

I think I’ll continue south tomorrow.