On the road about 9 am after talking with Super Mario (the public relations manager at the hotel) about his time working in Quebec. An hour down the road we pass a gas station where another BMW rider is refueling and within minutes is on our tail so we pull off the highway at the next village. We exchange the usual pleasantries and find out that Taylor lives in Bellingham, WA (just south of Vancouver, Canada) and his destination is Argentina. We decide to ride together for the day and try to find a room in downtown Acapulco. Taylor was in Acapulco 3 years ago and leads the way off the highway and onto a main road leading downtown, when he abruptly swerves to the right and I see this hole in the road. It’s a manhole without a cover on it. That had our hearts beating slightly faster than normal! Unable to find the hotel he was looking for we decide to have lunch on the beach before moving on. Driving in Acapulco was horrific, you needed eyes looking all directions as stop signs or red lights don’t mean anything to the locals. There was about 5 kilometers of the highway reduced to one lane in each direction as they were replacing the sewer pipes and it was grid lock. After 15 minutes of sitting in the hot sun I decide it’s time to drive like the locals and off we go between the road and the pipe trench. Couldn’t believe what we were seeing, the men working on the sewer project had no personal protective equipment, flip flops were the only foot protection they had and many were stomping the sand around the pipe with bare feet.
Man and Burrow
We spent the night in San Marcos at a small hotel with a swimming pool in the courtyard. The owner allowed us to park the bikes in the courtyard and he slept in a chair next to them. Most hotel owners in Mexico go out of their way to ensure the moto’s are secured with either a locked courtyard, security patrols, security camera’s, or the moto’s are within view of the desk clerk who watches them all night.