My French Guiana adventure: Day 3

I wake up in French Guiana! I heard my business hotel has free breakfast, so I zoom downstairs. The hot cops are still here, flirting with the restaurant staff, who are all young Brazilian women. 

I love free hotel breakfasts in America. It's usually platters of scrambled eggs, sausages, and bacon. The French make a valiant effort at a facsimile, but it's just different. The cook is in no hurry so the eggs never arrive, no matter how hard I use my psychic abilities to will them into existence. The baguettes, however, are fantastic. I make two sausage sandwiches for myself.

I go back to my room and this is my view. I have to go back to my original hotel, clarify the mess, and move there. 

I go back to Hotel des Palmistes. The hotel staff apologizes profusely and shows me to my suite. I come to realize that I have the best room at the best located hotel in all of Cayenne. I really dig that old timey airline poster in my bedroom. That's the town square my room is facing.

My living room. I do all of my trip planning and napping in this room.

Not bad for 106 euros a night. The toilet is kind of weak and the shower is like a coffin. But that's France for ya.

Other than my wife's bout with cancer, I really don't have any fears, living a privileged life in America. So these oddball trips to faraway lands give me thrills. My original plan was to travel throughout French Guiana in cabs and vans, but that was going to be difficult logistically and expensive. My best decision was to rent a car. I was fearful of driving in a foreign country. I was fearful of getting carried away by flood waters. I was fearful of getting lost without GPS. It all worked out.

I rented a manual transmissioned Peugeot 208 with 61,000 kilometers from Sixt. It cost 260 euros for the entire week-- a bargain. It was a lot of fun to drive, although I got passed by other cars constantly. It has a three cylinder engine, after all. My biggest weakness was traffic circles. They are everywhere. It was never clear if they had one or two lanes. And the GPS on my phone gave terrible instructions when I was driving in them, But again, everything worked out great.

ETA: Two more things gave me pause about the car. It has a lane centering system that tugs at the steering wheel. But because the lines here are so poorly marked, the car yanks the steering wheel at inopportune times. Finally, the car did not come with a spare tire because it had been used by the previous customer. I was given a tire repair kit. That scared me a little. I was going to some remote places.

I got the car in the late morning and head out for Cacao. It's a tiny jungle village populated by Hmong refugees. They produce 90% of the vegetables the country consumes. The Sunday market is a huge attraction. I am there on a Monday so everything is closed, save for one restaurant.

A young, tall, chubby Asian guy takes my order. We can't communicate so I point at a photo of a big bowl of noodle soup. It is so hot and humid, my eyebrows can't hold back my forehead sweat. As I wait, it starts pouring rain, albeit briefly.

I look at the condiments. They are either from China or Thailand.

What a meal. This reminds me of my favorite meal of all time. After a long bus ride in the Atacama, I got off in the port town of Iquique in the Christmas heat and ordered a seafood stew at La Surena II. Something about hot soups on hot days after long journeys.

After the meal, I head to the spaceport. I have a 7am tour the next day and I want to check out the rendezvous point today so I don't get lost tomorrow and miss the tour. Ahead of me on the windy road out of Cacao, I see some kind of buzzard eating a big ass lizard. The yellow Peugeot scares off the bird. I just had to take a picture of the victim.

There's a turnoff where you get a nice view of the jungle canopy.

Though the town of Kourou is tiny, I get lost finding the spaceport. I finally had to turn on my phone to get GPS. The Ariane 5 replica (1:1 scale) in the parking lot is a good marker.

Now that I know where to go, I drive back to Cayenne.

I walk to the highest rated Chinese joint in Cayenne. The owners tell me it's closed on Mondays. I go to a different restaurant and order mapo tofu. The drinks here must be subsidized. Beer is 2 euros a bottle at restaurants. A one-liter bottle of water in markets is 1 euro.

The restaurant is empty of customers. A Chinese couple are eating, but I suspect they are the owners' friends or relatives and eating for free. The large table is taken up by five girls, all under the age of eleven. They are sisters and cousins and are dressed in Chinese costumes. They probably just came back from Chinese school where they had rehearsals. 

I briefly talk to the owners. They've been here for ten years, later than most of the immigrants. But they admit they are still able to make good money here. Apparently the Chinese here are all from Zhejiang province (near Shanghai). That's where my dad's side of the family is from. In the 1930s, they left China for Japan in search of riches.

My French Guiana adventure: Day 2

The Air France staff at Miami airport cared more about checking my yellow fever vaccination card than my boarding pass.

I love looking at the Departure board. Pointe A Pitre (Guadeloupe). That's where I'm going!

I like to think of myself as being a geography and history nerd. But I had no idea where Guadeloupe and Martinique are. Or their history. So I read Wikipedia the night before.

First, it was "discovered" by Columbus in 1493. When you fly over this part of the Caribbean, you quickly realize how easy it is to discover pieces of land. Islands are everywhere.

Second, the island was so prosperous (slaves and sugar), France gave up all of its Canadian possessions in order to get the island back from the British.

Third, it was owned by Sweden from 1813 to 1814.

There it is.

A highway. There was nothing like it anywhere in French Guiana, and it's one-sixth the size of France.

Though Guadeloupe was not my final destination, I did enter France so I got my passport stamped.

I heard about the legendary rum here. For six euros, I got the most expensive rum for sale at the rinky dink airport bar. It was called Rhum Vieux. My next flight was boarding so I had to finish it in three big gulps.

Back on the plane for a 30 minute hop to Martinique.

Per Wikipedia, Columbus spotted it in 1493 and landed there in 1502. Like Guadeloupe, Dutch Jews expelled from Brazil settled in Martinique. During World War II, it was controlled by the Vichy bastards so German U-boats went there for fuel and supplies.

Martinique looked pretty developed tourist infrastructure-wise. Lots of multi-story hotels.

As we hit French Guiana, it's just green, dense jungle. The only interruptions are caused by rivers.

Cayenne airport at sunset.

As I step out of the airport, I am hit by the humidity. I have a guy in a Hyundai Tuscon taxi cab drive me 30 minutes to my hotel in "downtown" Cayenne. As we pull out of the airport, it is a two-lane road with barely any traffic. It has a rural Japan feel. There are a lot of billboards selling four things-- an automatic Peugeot for 18,900 euros, cheap vacations to Fortaleza (Brazil), frozen chicken nuggets at a supermarket, and military/police recruitment.

I get dropped off in the dark at my hotel. The popular restaurant/bar on the ground floor is closed and dark. It is Sunday night. I approach the side door and there's an older, lanky, slovenly dressed guard sitting in a plastic chair. He speaks English with a Caribbean accent. He tells me the hotel staff is gone and he was not told that I would be checking in. I ask him to call the staff. He tells me he suffered a brain injury earlier that day and he doesn't know how to use a phone. What?! 

I leave my backpack (my only luggage) on the table and pace around in the heat. What do I do? The entire city is closed.

Then, a guy appears out of nowhere and offers to help. He is a hotel guest from Mainland France and he has an Australian accent. He works for an aluminum company and currently ranks as the third most frequent flyer Air France has. He is only in French Guiana for work for two days. His shortest work trip distance-wise is to Dakar. He spends 240 days a year traveling. Though he tried hard to help, I couldn't get a room.

I had booked a nice suite at this hotel for my entire stay. Frustrated, I was told to walk down one block to the fancy hotel next to the police station. I'll stay there for a night and come back tomorrow morning to sort things out. Fine.

I check in at the Hotel Amazonia, which appears to be a business hotel affiliated with Best Western. It costs a bit more than my original hotel. It is filled with cops. Dozens upon dozens of cops from France are here to protect the head of the European Space Agency, who is here for a visit. What's odd is that every single cop staying at this hotel is in their 20s, blond or brown haired, with the same physique, and the same height. The ones not in uniform are wearing tight t-shirts, short shorts, and shower sandals. And they're all eating pizzas.

Famished, I go to the hotel restaurant and get the cheapest entree, this fish.

Exhausted, I collapse on my bed. I have no idea what tomorrow will bring.

My French Guiana adventure: Day 1

Why French Guiana? Everyone asked me this question.

Truth be told, if you had asked me back in January, I would have never guessed that my next trip was going to be to French Guiana.

I became fascinated with the Guianas (British, Dutch, French) after reading this fun book. Even though I majored in Latin American Studies, I never studied these countries because they are more Caribbean than Latin. But what clinched the deal was my desire to take Air France's Island Hopper for fun. It used to fly from Miami to Port-au-Prince to Guadeloupe to Martinique to Cayenne. (Air France stopped flying to Haiti.) And of the three Guianas, the French one is the safest.

As this was a solo trip, I wanted to travel on the cheap as I have a high threshold for inconvenience. So I flew to Miami on Southwest Airlines for free, using my points. I had to make a connection in Dallas, with a very short turnaround time.

Getting a free flight meant waking up at 3:00am to catch a 5:30 flight. I parked next to this Pontiac at long term parking.

A lot of people on the Oakland to Dallas flight were going to a rodeo!

I landed in Miami and went straight to the hotel. Fortunately, there was a Peruvian chain restaurant next door. It was pretty busy, and I was the only gringo there. I felt like I left the country already.

I walked back to the hotel like a zombie. The portions were huge, the humidity wet, and I was exhausted from waking up so early. This old sign was in the hotel parking lot. Good night!

Getting an M550i?

Thinking hard about this one. pic.twitter.com/BfgxJ4JPe4

— Tamerlane's Thoughts (@TamerlaneBlog) May 30, 2023

Many of you know that I had been obsessed with getting an Alfa Romeo Giulia Quadrifoglio. When a new one finally arrived at a dealer after a year's wait, I got to test drive it. It was beyond incredible. But because of its terrible resale value, the monthly lease payments are $500 a month more than a similarly priced BMW M550i. With either car, our insurance premium would double. Sadly, I had to say no to the Alfa.

I test drove an M550i xDrive last month. Its twin turbo V8 produces 529 horsepower. It was so effortlessly fast. But the one I drove had $8,000 in options I didn't want. And it's gray with a black interior. Not exciting.

I hemmed and hawed and after I got back from French Guiana, I decided to pull the trigger. I put in an order for a base M550i, blue with cognac interior and wood trim. The next day, I got an email from the dealership. BMW stopped taking orders for 2023 models. The 2024s will be a new generation. The new 5-Series will not come with a V8. The new 5-Series will not have buttons inside. Fuck!

Then, I got another email. The M550i I test drove, which was still sitting in the lot over a month after I test drove it, will have an $8,000 discount over Memorial Day weekend. If I can overcome the gray exterior and black interior, I think I'll get it.

My next solo trip will be to Little Diomede

I am back from French Guiana! I will be posting about my experience shortly. Of course, as soon as I returned, I started thinking about my next trip. I was thinking Marquesas in the South Pacific, Paraguay, the Aleutian Islands....

Over the Memorial Day long weekend, I rewatched Michael Palin's Full Circle on YouTube. The 1997 series had him traveling around the edge of the Pacific. He started at Little Diomede Island. It's in the Bering Strait and two miles away from Big Diomede, which is Russian. Also, the International Date Line separates the two islands.

The plan will be to fly to Nome on an Alaskan Airlines 737. This will be the easy part. Then, I will have to take a Pathfinder helicopter to the Little Diomede. I love trip planning.

I am renting a Peugeot 208

My French Guiana trip is in five weeks and I am renting this from Sixt! I'll be driving to Cacao (Hmong village in Amazon), Kourou (spaceport), St Laurent du Maroni (Suriname border), St Georges (Brazilian border), and Kourou (Devil's Island)).

Eating the Globe: Western Sahara

Morocco is notorious for canning fish in Western Sahara and labeling the product as Moroccan. I am 85% sure the canned mackerel I had was from Western Sahara. Since I make the rules, I am counting it. I mean, just look at where the green dot is on that map on the back of the box!

I ate the mackerel plain with leftover takeout rice. It was fine.

Africa: Algeria, Angola, Benin, Burundi, Cameroon, DR Congo, Egypt, Eritrea, Ethiopia, Guinea-Bissau, Ivory Coast, Kenya, Liberia, Madagascar, Mauritius, Morocco, Mozambique, Niger, Nigeria, Rwanda, Senegal, Somalia, South Africa, Sudan, Tanzania, Tunisia, Uganda, Western Sahara, Zimbabwe

Asia: Afghanistan, Armenia, Bangladesh, Bhutan, Burma, Cambodia, China, East Timor, Georgia, India, Indonesia, Iran, Iraq, Israel, Japan, Jordan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Laos, Lebanon, Malaysia, Maldives, Mongolia, Nepal, North Korea, Oman, Pakistan, Palestine, Philippines, Saudi Arabia, Singapore, South Korea, Sri Lanka, Syria, Taiwan, Thailand, Turkey, Uzbekistan, Vietnam, Yemen

Europe: Albania, Andorra, Austria, Belarus, Belgium, Bosnia, Bulgaria, Croatia, Czechia, Denmark, Estonia, Finland, France, Germany, Great Britain, Greece, Hungary, Iceland, Ireland, Italy, Latvia, Lithuania, Netherlands, Norway, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Russia, Serbia, Slovakia, Slovenia, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland, Ukraine, Vatican City

North America: Barbados, Belize, Canada, Costa Rica, Cuba, Dominica, Dominican Republic, El Salvador, Guatemala, Haiti, Honduras, Jamaica, Mexico, Nicaragua, Panama, St Kitts & Nevis, Trinidad & Tobago, USA

South America: Argentina, Bolivia, Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Ecuador, Guyana, Paraguay, Peru, Suriname, Uruguay, Venezuela

Oceania: Australia, Fiji, Marshall Islands, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea, Samoa, Tonga

I'm going to French Guiana!

I can't believe it.

I will be flying Air France's once-weekly Island Hopper. From Miami, it stops in Guadeloupe, Martinique, and finally, Cayenne. Port-au-Prince used to be a stop, but Air France no longer serves Haiti.

The plan is to stay at a colonial era hotel in Cayenne and go on day trips.

The itinerary:

• Minibus or shared taxi to Suriname border
• Minibus or shared taxi to Brazil border
• Visit Cacao in the jungle; it's a Hmong village full of former refugees
• Space center tour; I just got a ticket for a three-hour tour
• Devil's Island

Unexpected Southwest Airlines Southwest Road Trip: Day 3

We planned on completing our road trip on Day 3. Didn't happen.

In retrospect, I should have deferred to my wife and let her plan the meals. But I was on a mission to get home as quickly as possible and thought she would just slow us down with meals and potty breaks. After a breakfast at our hipster motel's oatmeal bar, we headed towards Phoenix.

I was not expecting so many mountains in southern Arizona. I was expecting flat expanses of desert.

Without any plans for lunch, the kids got grumpy. Because restaurants were 50 to 100 miles apart from each other, they had to wait. We ended up at a lovely but rough cafe in Quartzsite, near the California border. 

Quartzsite is known for two things. First, in the 1800s, camels were imported and raised here by the U.S. Army. Now, the town is a destination for destitute senior citizens who live in vans and RVs. It was featured in Nomadland.

The "town" was pure chaos. People on ATVs. An RV parked called MAGA...

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A post shared by MAGA RV Park (@magarvpark)

This Brat was just one of the many wild things we saw in Quartzsite.

To lighten my mood, the kids bought me a back scratcher at the diner.

We crossed the might Colorado River! We're finally in California. The river crossing was kind of anticlimactic.

Lots of cool carspotting opportunities. Like this Mexican Suzuki Jimny next to the Morongo Indian casino.

Or this Ferrari 612!

We hit rain and traffic in Los Angeles and it really slowed us down. We picked a Japanese restaurant in Santa Clarita (north of Los Angeles) for dinner. The meal was easily twice what we normally paid outside of California. At least I spotted a Renault Duster in the parking lot. I gushed at the middle class Mexican dad who owned it. He was confused by my excitement.

We continued driving into the night along Interstate 5. It was simply too much mentally and physically for the kids. They were crying from sitting for so long. So we spent the night at Harris Ranch in Coalinga, three hours short of home.

Harris Ranch is known for its steakhouse. Many people driving between San Francisco and Los Angeles stop here for a meal. I knew it had a hotel, but I could never figure out why anyone would stay there. 

We had a nice room and this was what we saw when we stepped out our door in the morning (on Day 4):

We walked to the restaurant and I got some beef with my eggs.

Epilogue:

We got home around noon on Day 4. I returned the car at Oakland airport with 12 minutes left. The bill was $2,200(!). We also spent $600 for three nights of hotels/motels.

I asked Southwest to reimburse us $2,800, I didn't ask for gas or food. They offered $1,400. I was PISSED. I appealed and on March 14, Southwest decided to reimburse us the entire $2,800.

THE END.