Overlanding around the World
A gearbox catastrophe sees our couple drive five countries in two days to stay on schedule
A gearbox catastrophe sees our couple drive five countries in two days to stay on schedule
WE KNEW that our itinerary in Central America was going to be hectic. Our plan was to travel across seven countries in four weeks before shipping the impassable (unless you were on the legendary 1970s Land Rover TransAmericas expedition) Darien Gap from Panama to Colombia.
Travelling in the tropics, the windows are always down. The problem with that is our plans have the tendency to go out of them. Let me explain...
While driving our TDCI Defender from Baja to Mexico City, firming up our plan of how many days to spend in each country, the gearbox starts to emit a horrible grinding noise in sixth gear. After a quick prognosis on the side of the road, it looks and sounds like we will need a new gearbox. Sure enough, that plan we were making is now out of the window.
That night, in a cheap hotel on the side of the road, we research our options. It seems that there are no Land Rover specialists in Mexico who might have an MT82 gearbox lying around. With a bit more digging we find a Land Rover specialist in Belize who is very helpful but the price is outrageous; possibly higher than at a dealership. There’s another place in Guatemala but the owner doesn’t reply when contacted and we can’t risk driving all that way without sixth gear for them not to be able to help us.
All options considered, we opt for ordering a reconditioned gearbox from Ashcroft Transmission in the UK and fit it ourselves. For the part to arrive and clear customs, it’s a twoweek wait. We pass the time with Netflix and making plans just in case the current one escapes again.
When the gearbox finally arrives, we limp 150 miles south to Oaxaca where we meet with Calvin and Leanne, Canadian ex-pats and fellow overlanders, at their home/campsite, the Overlander’s Oasis. We were not able to change the gearbox at the campsite but Calvin and Leanne are able to arrange for us to use a local garage, who opens up for me to start work early on Sunday morning.
The garage is sparsely equipped with only one trolley jack, two safe-looking axle stands, and some blocks of wood. We get to work: Me-an on tool-passing duty and me doing the heavy lifting. With the help of the manual and my previous experience changing the clutch in New Zealand we remove all the bits and bobs to allow us to drop the transfer box and then the gearbox. With a little help from the garage owner we wrestle it out with little drama. It is then down to Me-an and I to fit the new one. We utilise some of the less safelooking axle stands, a long bar and several ratchet straps to take most of the weight from above. With me under the car and Me-an working the straps, the new gearbox is in by the end of the first day. We get the car back together the following morning and the whole job takes us 14 hours. The garage doesn’t charge us a penny for using the facilities so we decide to repay their generosity with a crate of beer.
With our schedule in disarray, we now have 2000 miles across seven countries and six border crossings between us and our scheduled ship in Panama, all to be accomplished in six days. We also have the added stress of Nicaragua having a slight meltdown and the Foreign Office advising against all but essential travel there.
We arrive at the border crossing between Mexico and Guatemala in the late afternoon after ten hours of paranoid driving listening for any issues with the new gearbox. The border office in Guatemala is in the middle of a bustling market selling everything from snacks to football shirts. It’s almost comical how crazy it is. But the border crossing is pretty smooth and we immediately feel the sense of new country excitement.
Guatemala seems much poorer than Mexico and the people are tiny. The landscape is also different as we drive through the mountainous jungle terrain very reminiscent of our time in Laos, which is on a similar latitude. With the sun beginning to sink, we clear the border, drive to the next town and find some safe parking to camp up for the night. Making use of our tent fan, we head to bed early for a humid night’s sleep.
Rising with the sun, we head further south through the steep, winding mountain roads of Guatemala. It is important to stay alert on these twisty roads as what can only be described as mountain ranges of camouflaged speed bumps
"Due to political unrest, some overlanders have experienced difficulty crossing the country with road blocks set up”
sprout up from nowhere. The only sign of the looming danger comes from the brake lights of the car in front. We learn some new rules of the road (anything goes when it comes to overtaking), and make it to the old capital of Antigua Guatemala by late afternoon.
The town is in the shadow of a volcano and with its colonial architecture and cobbled streets is beautiful. So we decide to stay for the night to explore the old town and make an extra early start the next day.
The border between Guatemala and El Salvador is a pleasant three-hour drive in the early morning light and we arrive at 8.00 am to start the border crossing process. There are lots of people near the border waiting to help us cross for a tip. We have done our research on the process and are pretty confident on what we need to do so we politely decline. The process on both sides is done in just under two hours and we are in El Salvador.
The road through El Salvador is only about 200 miles, so the plan is to enter and exit the country in one day, something we have never done before. We are aware of El Salvador’s chequered past, so we keep our wits about us and drive straight to the next border with Honduras, which takes about two hours to cross, by which time it is dusk.
On the drive to our intended hotel, the roads are in chaos and we come across a road block with trucks strewn everywhere. This is not what we need after an 11-hour day and two border crossings. There are people pointing us to a diversion but we are soon stopped again. Driving around at night with nowhere to stay in Honduras doesn’t seem like a good idea, so we reassess, about turn and find a hotel before the road block.
The hotel receptionist informs us the road block is a nationwide strike by truck drivers. Luckily, the roads are cleared the next morning and we are able to make the relatively short drive to the next border with Nicaragua where we have arranged to meet with a guide, Byron, who will be taking us through the country.
Due to the political unrest in the country, which has seen 400 people lose their lives in three months, some overlanders have experienced difficulty crossing the country with road blocks set up by both the pro-government supporters and the anti-government protesters. We reckon we need a local guide with local knowledge,for the most efficient crossing.
The entry into Nicaragua is the worst yet on our trip. After an hour of waiting at immigration, the car is inspected by the customs officer and then a police officer decides he would like to x-ray our car. With a hint of smugness the policeman then shows me the x-ray picture and points to a very large object in the rear of the car suspecting he has just found some contraband. I’m a little bewildered and tell him it’s the broken gearbox we plan to ship back to the UK. The car was inspected again. This time they spotted the gearbox in the back of the car, in plain sight. Another hour of waiting for a final piece of paperwork and we are free to go.
Byron has done his homework and has a route that will make road blocks less likely. We drive on perfect tarmac, pass lush green fields, admiring the impressive volcanos. It is a real shame that we can’t spend more time exploring this country.
During six hours of driving we witness some scars of the recent troubles. You can see where tyres have been burned, leaving black circles on the roads, with rubble and debris of the recent blockades cleared and piled up on the pavements. Police stations are barricaded with sandbags. We also see the paramilitary employed by the government to bolster numbers in civilian clothes with slung AK47S and balaclavas to hide their identities. We arrive at another border crossing, this time into Costa Rica. It’s dark by the time we clear the border so we drive to the nearest town to find a hotel with secured parking.
After the last few hectic days of border crossings and being in five countries in two days, we decide to have a chilled day, driving for only six hours we camp in an orchard right next to a Pacific black-sand beach. The owner of the campground, Marvin, is really friendly and we are promptly given a tour of the place and are loaded up with avocados and mangoes straight from the trees. We have a restful night’s sleep to the sound of the howler monkeys and feel ready for the next day. Only one long drive is between us and Panama City, our final destination in Central America.