You forgot desert!

Leaving Caco I was heading for Brazil, but wasn’t quite done with Guyane yet…

Another rider I had been in contact with about insurance in Guyane had just arrived.

So we spent a futile day in Cayenne searching for some insurance for him, before he too went the faking route.  We then spent a night enjoying perhaps one or two too many Leffes before we both headed on our way to our next adventures.

Mine happened to be just down the road.

The owner of the place I stayed in Cacao had a friend who had just returned from a bike trip down to Ushuaia and he’s hooked us up.  Since there aren’t too many riders that do the east coast of South America, it’s always nice to get some updated info on road conditions, possible hassles, and must see places.  The first hassle he warned me about was the ferry you have to take from Guyane to Brazil (the bridge that’s been under construction for 6 years isn’t even close to finished)- since it was still the rainy season it wasn’t running too often and if you have them run just for you it costs 200Euro for the 20 minute ride!  So, he gave me a contact in the border town of St. Georges that could help.  It was straight out of the best of film noir.  I was to go to the Hotel/Restaurant ‘Chez Modestine’ on the town square and ask for George- he’d be at the bar drinking scotch and wearing old style gold sunglasses.  He could probably arrange something for me.

Riding into St. Georges and into the towns little square it just got better.  Chez Modestine was pure perfection- from building to sign.

Seeing the place I hoped I couldn’t arrange for the ferry before the next day since I really wanted to spend the night.  Walking in I decided I would would spend the night- ferry be damned.  A small group of uncomfortable looking tourists in their matching expedition gear were silently picking at their food at one table, a couple of leathery old men were smacking down dominoes at another, and the only other occupied table held a couple having a quietly vicious fight in a mix of french and portuguese.  The small bar had a single friend- a man slouched over his glass, with a half empty bottle of cheap scotch beside him.  Above him, a chalkboard announced that todays meal was coc-au-vin and a glass of wine.

Okay, maybe two nights….

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