Going The Distance

Day of hell. Worst yet, I think. 45′c, bureaucracy of bike crossing borders, swarms of men trying to “help” for money at the border, 2 tropical rainstorms of biblical proportions (turns out that nothing remains waterproof in those conditions – and the sidecar doesn’t look like a bathtub for nothing…)

Weepy wife at end of day. All just too much. As we get closer to the Equator, the sun sets very quickly, so we’re suddenly plunged into blackness – and left doing the one thing which everyone has advised against: driving in the dark. As we enter Guatemala City, we of course get horribly lost (not that we have an actual destination, but just that we are aiming for a half decent hotel, me having been sodden and seated for most of the day). When we get to a hotel which seems ok, we check in, it’s ripe with faded glamour. Things don’t really work. Promised wifi doesn’t work. Have to move rooms. Don’t have an interviews for Guatemala lined up. It’s late, we’re both broken by fatigue, it all feels insurmountable. What are we doing? Two people, with the help of only my tireless father, on their own trying to make a documentary about love. The biggest subject out there. The fact that everyone has an opinion about it is both a blessing and a curse. We have bitten off so much more than we can chew… how can we dismiss entire countries with only one (if we’re lucky!) interview? Are we really capturing the soul of Guatemala by doing an interview with the local paper and grilling the hotel security guard? The thought of going home overwhelms me. I’m exhausted. I don’t speak Spanish. We still have so far to go – not to mention the interviews we have to arrange. We haven’t even hit rainy season. Please, Mikey, can we go home?

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