Latin America Collection

This story was told to me by Lou and Celine Gregoire, formerly of Las
Vegas, Nevada. It took place in the spring of 1992.

They drove from Las Vegas to the border crossing at Nogales, Arizona.
There they met with two groups of Missionaries who were trying to get
cleared into Mexico on their way to Guatemala. It took them two days to
get their visas, which verifies the statement in Chapter I -- that it is best
to get your visas from an embassy before you start out on your trip. The
Gregoires decided to join up with them, as it appeared it would be more
fun, and with the "safety in numbers" idea in mind, they would all feel safer.
None of them had made the trip before.

They drove down the coastal highway. They found that it was very
hot--usually in the mid-90s to as much as 110 degrees. The roads were quite
rough and filled with many potholes. They do not recommend that route
for anyone, unless they like the heat. From, the map, one would think it
would have nice ocean breezes, as it follows the coast. Not so!

One group of missionaries was driving a Suburban and were pulling
a trailer. About halfway throuth Mexico, their trailer hitch broke. They
happened to be near a village that had a welding shop, so they were able
to get it fixed and start on their way again.

Late in the afternoon, when they found a spot they liked, they would
stop for the night. As their vehicles were self-contained, it was only
necessary for them to stop for servicing their toilets every other day or so.
In addition to the Suburban, the missionaries also had a converted bus
with all facilities, including water tanks, holding tanks and kitchen. In
most cases, their only requirement for a stop was to find a level spot to park.

They had no real problems in Mexico, but when they arrived at the
Guatemalan border crossing, they ran into trouble. It was a Saturday
morning, and they had no visas. The office where they were to pick up
their visas was closed until Monday, so they were in a jam. They had the
choice of returning to Tapachula, Mexico, or stay on the International bridge
until they could get cleared. Not wanting to backtrack, they opted to stay
where they were.

Prospects looked very bleak. They were uncomfortable in the 110
degree heat, nearly out of food, and all felt dirty and in need of a bath. One
of the group did some scouting and made contact with an off-duty
immigration officer who came down on his own time to clear them. I
wondered if it was good old "Joe Garcia"--Audrey's "Earth Angel" who
was so kind to us on our crossing of this border.

No sooner had the visa problem been solved than they faced another
challenge. The Guatemalan customs officer was very clear that he did not
like Christians, and missionaries in particular. He put the Suburban and
the bus into quarantine, and was not going to allow them into the country.
Another "Earth Angel" came to their rescue. The head boss and the customs
officer got into a heated argument, with the boss ruling in favor of the
missionaries. He not only gave them clearance here, but also gave them
clearance papers through all of the military check points they would come
to in Guatemala to their destination of Zacapa.

The Gregoires left the missionaries at that point, and continued by
themselves. They took the coastal route to El Salvador, where they stayed
in San Salvador for the night.

In San Salvador, they had a flat tire on their trailer. Lou got out to fix
it, and was suddenly surrounded by several taxi drivers, who brought out
their equipment and proceeded to change the tire for him. When he offered
to pay them for their trouble, they refused to accept payments stating they
were glad to help the "Americanos" who had helped them during their civil
war.

They had no problems crossing into Honduras or Nicaragua. Their next
challenge occured when they crossed into Costa Rica. In the other countries
the customs officers would glance into their trailer, look into a box or two
in their pickup, and wave them on through. The Costa Rican authorities
were a little more thorough.
They checked their pickup shell very carefully, and discovered four
unmounted tires. They confiscated them on the grounds that they were a
hazardous breeding ground for mosquitoes. At the U.S. price of $60.00 each,
and the Costa Rican price three or four times that amount, Lou stood to
lose a lot of money. They had three days to get the tires mounted or have
them confiscated. There was a station nearby that would sell them the
wheels, and mount them. The other choice was to just go off and leave them
for the officials to dispose of. This procedure smelled of "scam" to me, but
it is Costa Rican law, and they were now in Costa Rica. I wondered if they
had packed them into those black garbage bags, if they would have gotten
away with it. One fellow circumvented their code by having blown-up tubes
in each of the tires.

From the border check they drove on to Liberia, the first sizable town
in Costa Rica. They stayed at the Hotel Guanacaste Travel Lodge which
had facilities for recreation vehicles, where they stayed for the night. The
next day they drove into the Belén RV Park, located in San Antonio de Belén.
They had been there some time when I met them.

They have obtained their Pensionado status, and are in the process of
buying a finca (ranch or farm) on the Caribbean coast.

Thank you Lou and Celine for the great story, and let's hope that
someone reading this book will profit from your experiences, as well as your
good fortune.