Traveling to El Estor, Guatemala
The world felt untouched in the traditional small towns we passed through after taking a wrong turn. Curious eyes followed our moto Anza, while our resin-coated goat skull navigator Panchito elicited the sign of the cross from strangers when stopping for directions. Back to the main road, greeted once again by speed bumps every few miles, jarring us into the present. We stumbled upon a lovely rancho to stay the night and Blanca the dog melted my heart as she curled up beside us for some cuddles. Drinking at a scrappy bar in Sacapulas, we met a poet who shared his musings over cheap drinks. Thirty miles outside of El Estor, the pavement dies and so begins the never-ending dirt track. Right when the rain kicks in and the sunlight disappears. Dominic white-knuckling the drive in the inky blackness, never forgetting the precious cargo he is hauling on the back of the bike. In the morning, Anza and I have new war paint.
Photos also contributed by Dominic Arizona Bonuccelli
follow his entire journey with #ANZAMOTO