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Down With the Sickness Dec/30/2012

31 Dec

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As predicted, the cold can no longer be ignored and I feel like a complete sack of s***. Sore throat, watery and tired eyes, pressure in my ears that won’t pop, runny nose, weak body… No time to waste and haste. We pack the tents up, jump on the bikes and head out towards Rio Dulce. I wanted to get there early to catch up on blogging and get a rest. The bikes have been awesome. We have eased up the throttles in the past week and beer getting over double the distance. I’m getting almost an unbelievable 480km per tank cruising at 80km/h as oppose getting a mere 180km on a tank with the same bike with a modified exhaust running around the highways in Canada at 120km/h.
Just as a torrential downpour starts we pull into Rio Dulce. Not sure what to think of this place. On one hand it seems like a poshy gateway to the Caribbean with marinas, big yachts and people boogieing around the delta on Seadoos. On the other the downtown core was no shortage of a market in Thailand. We could barely squeeze down the Main Street on the bikes as it is completely filled with market stands felling anything from cell phones to home made food. Right down my alley. We settle at a hotel a stone throw away from it all with view of the delta across the marina. $20 per night was hard to turn down.

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Immediately drop my bags in the room and run to the market. So many goodies that I could not identify. As I’m negotiating a deal on a fried fish wrapped in newspaper the 80 year old lady at the next stand breaks off a piece of her home made whatever and tries to jam it in my mouth. No success there. I did end up buying a fried green pepper stuffed with veggies though. Now. Where do I consume all this treasure? Bar Las Vegas says the sign deep inside the market. All riiight! How convenient. Have a cold one with it. We waltz in like we own it. But wait…. Why is it so dark in here? Old guys sleeping heads down amongst tables full of beer bottles. Those not sleeping are barely standing. Groups of young punks playing with cellies staring us down, but an unusually high ratio of semi good looking women sitting randomly through out the place. “4pm Sunday?” I’m thinking. I look up as perhaps I made a mistake on the date as I notice tube televisions placed above, conveniently in each corner. Each was playing a different hardcore porn. Oh, I get it. I reluctantly sit down under one of those TVs followed by Alex. Even the $0.75 beers couldn’t make me stay longer that it would to devour all the stuff from the market. I don’t think Alex has said one work the whole time. I did enjoy my fish and stuffed pepper though. I had my camera and really wanted to tape the place but with Alex combined we were no match to the group of vatos that would surely like to borrow my camera for a while. We jet the place as the old drunks start approaching us to start conversations.
The Caribbean sea will be able to take a breather once I’m gone. Despite being sick I still have an unsatisfied hunger for seafood. We head to the ranchos on the water so Alex can have his dinner too. I could not resist the seafood soup. A huge bowl with 2 whole crabs, about 10 shrimp, a number of huge mussels and an entire fish at the bottom. Heaven.

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We put our names on the list for the boat leaving for Livingston the next morning and I head to the hotel to nurture my sickness and catch up on writing.

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