The Darién Gap

This is why we have chosen to fly.  Dragons.. [shudder]... :)

The Darién Gap is a section of swampland and forest that separates Central and South America.  Measuring just over 99 miles long, and only 31 miles wide, this narrow strip of land is the last missing link in the Pan-American Highway that stretches from Alaska to Argentina.

With no way to ride from Central to South America, we (and all travellers) are forced to either fly or take a boat around the gap.  We have chosen to fly.

Arriving at the Airport, we made our way to the Cargo Terminal, which was on the far side of the airport grounds.    As we are required to ship the bikes with less than a 1/4 tank of fuel, we were getting low on gas as we finally entered the round about that would take us to the cargo terminal.

We had done some research prior to arrival, and had selected Girag Air Cargo, which has a fairly decent reputation for shipping motorcycles to Colombia.  

One of the friendly Girag girls.

Darren, working in the Girag office.

Troy killing some time.

Another friendly Girag girl.

Darren will only be with us for a short time in Colombia, before riding north to Trinidad.  He asked us to sign his bike.

After meeting our friendly contact, who spoke excellent english, we completed the paperwork part of our ordeal, surprisingly efficient and quick.

We packed our bikes, leaving the majority of our gear on them.  The owner of Girag came by with a surprising offer, he would offer up his guest house to us free of charge, including transportation.

We quickly agreed to free lodging, and piled into the waiting van, which then proceeded to take us an hour away past Panama city down twisting, turning backroads, and deep into the Panamanian jungle.

We were all glancing around nervously at each other, wondering if we were off to the Kidney processing facility, when we turned into a beautiful piece of property, with a large, unfinished Eco-cabin.

Getting out of the Van, a small Panamanian caretaker greeted us with a unbroken flurry of Spanish, absolutely none of which we understood.  We told him... "no habla español...", but this just unleashed another torrent of incomprehensible Spanish.

Oh well.  

We asked where the bathroom was, he showed us 3.  None of them worked.

We asked where we would be sleeping.  He showed us upstairs to a room with no beds.

We asked about beds.  He opened a closet and pulled out three mattresses, still in the wrappers

We asked about pillows.  He opened a bag and handed us pillows.

We asked about sheets for the bed.  He shrugged.  No sheets.

Our caretaker.

A friendly neighbour that came by for a visit.

Our driver was long gone by this point, so we were stuck here and had to make the best of it.  

Had we known that the Cabin was not finished, we would have brought our camping gear, which was back with the bikes a the airport.

A couple hours later, afer some supper in the unfinished kitchen, the Van pulled back in, and a Father/Son biker team from the Denmark piled out.  We had met them a couple times before at the border and then again at the Airport.  So the 5 of us, along with our caretaker, spent the night  going through maps routes of South America, before retiring to our bare mattresses upstairs for the night.

Troy, trying to stay warm.

Darren and Troy