MOTORCYCLE SCHOOL BUS

Relieved to have arrived safely, Todd and his school-kid passengers wave for the camera. 

What started out as chance to explore the hills and beaches around San Juan del Sur by motorcycle turned into much more--that is, once we finally figured out how to start and shift and stop our motorcycles properly. 

Nicaragua's booming surf town has become somewhat of a tourist haven, at least since Kip took Spanish lessons here 15 years ago. Hotels and restaurants now line the long, crescent beach. Souvenir stands and surf shops abound. 

Yet just outside of town, the area remains remote, navigated by dirt roads through monkey-filled forests and onto deserted beaches more frequented by sea turtles than sun-loving travelers.

Kip gives a student a ride home.

It's also a place where kids have to walk long distances to get back-and-forth to school, as Kip and his brother Todd discovered while passing an elementary school a few miles outside of town. 

After driving slowly past groups of backpack-toting students walking the road with no houses in sight, we stopped to talk to two young boys. Nico and his cousin Tomas were heading home, and they immediately asked if we could give them and their friends a ride. So, while driving extremely slowly and carefully, we did. And then we did again.

Finally, after dropping off the final student in front of his house and waving to his smiling parents, we got back to our ride. 

Todd doing some serious downhilling.

The road's end--Kip on a deserted beach a few miles north of San Juan del Sur.

AMAZING MURALS OF ATACO

Bikers check out Ataco's vibrant murals after cruising along El Salvador's famous Ruta de las Flores. 

Visitors to El Salvador usually do at least one of two things--they surf and/or they travel the famous Ruta de Las Flores, a twisting, turning drive lined with ornate murals, flowers, and some of the richest coffee growing territory in the world.

Liz with pig and cow.

We'd already put in some time on the waves, so we headed down the highway out of San Salvador to the tiny town of Nauhizalco, famous for homemade furniture and for being the first stop on La Ruta. 

While the hand-hewn chairs, tables and lamps that lined the highway were uniquely impressive, none would fit in our backpacks. Plus, Kip was hungry, so we headed to Juayua, famous for its weekly food festival and a roaring waterfall (and also our Habitat build). 

Grilled churrasco skewers devoured, waterfall swam, we hopped a bus to the hillside town of Ataco. 

We came for the day but we ended up staying three. The air was cool, the food was tasty, and the murals were spectacular, and plentiful. 

Around every corner of the stone and brick streets, another brightly-painted wall awaited. Scenes of coffee pickers working, children reading, old people smiling, and even a little green alien flying a spaceship decorate nearly every street.

The story behind the murals is somewhat hard to unravel. Wall art in El Salvador is prolific. It's hard to find a vertical stack of bricks without at least something painted on it. 

In Ataco, we were told the first murals began popping up more than a decade ago to beautify the town and attract tourists. The art's beauty, style, and complexity, as well as a related controversy involving an artist, the town's conservative mayor, and the U.S. State Department, continues to evolve.

But enough with the broken history lesson. Below is a sample of Ataco's amazing murals. By the way, in our next lives, we're going to be highly-skilled artists and move to Ataco, where we'll volunteer to touch up the murals whenever necessary. 

OK, so this isn't really a mural. But it could be.
If Rockwell were from El Salvador, surely he would have approved.

PHOTO FRIDAY: WALL OF DEATH

Two riders brave the infamous "Wall of Death" at a fair in India.

If you ever get the chance to visit one of India's countless circuses or fairs, your first stop has to be a show at the Wall of Death, aka "Motordome." Just follow the smell of exhaust fumes and the sounds of screaming crowds intermingled with twin-cylinder engines revved to their breaking points. 

The shows are so popular, the fair we went to--the Sonepur Mela--featured two of the high-walled, rickety cylinders. Both had been built from rusted metal supports and wooden planks more at place in a garbage dump than as an elevated road meant to hold up hundreds of spectators and a fleet of speeding cars and motorcycles. 

Once we finally overcame the fear factor, we sat with the masses, amazed by what has to be one of the craziest shows on earth.

Workers chat while a car, driven by a maniac, speeds overhead. A stunned crowd watches form above. The photo was taken through one of the many broken wooden planks on which the cars and bikes depend to hold them up.

PHOTO FRIDAY: ARE WE THERE YET, MOM? MOM?

It's monsoon season in southeast Asia, which means it rains just about every day here in Laos. Despite the frequent downpours, life goes on, as seen above as a young mother tries to stay dry while taking her two kids to school. It's hard to imagine a scene like this would go over well with authorities back home, but driving one-handed while holding an umbrella (or a baby or lunch or a live farm animal) and transporting multiple small children passes for normal parenting in Laos--and many other countries in the world. 

LIZ LEARNS TO DRIVE

Nice, quiet place for Liz to hone her motorcycle driving skills.

Unlike Kip, she hasn't wrecked once.