| Location: | Acapulco to Tapachula |
Our start is crap. We follow the Airport signs, which is to the south of the city and where we need to go, but end up at the Departure Terminal (is someone trying to tell us something?) We are not going mad, once again, Mexican signing leaves a lot to be desired.
The road continues to give us glimpses of spectacular coast line, endless stretches of beach with huge crashing surf or craggy cliff faces with swirling masses of foam. Little hippy surf towns lie just out of reach. We plough on through curve after curve, slowing to snails pace behind huge lorries, risking quick overtakes to get some speed up. It is hard hard work in the midday sun. Our faces and hands are burning and our arses are really beginning to feel the effects of nine days in the saddle.
We have little relief along this stretch of road. Even getting something to eat is turning into a nightmare. Having not eaten for over 24 hours, we finally stop at a well signed restaurant, only to find it a back room of a house, with plenty of flies. Mama cleans the toilet for us and cooks our food - a huge plate of camerones, complete with all bits. It takes us more energy to eat it than we take in. Let´s hope we feel no after effects!
As for the bike, he is holding up well. Plenty of punishment, lots of weight, but as expected from the BMW, has not let us down.
