How safe is it to travel through Latin America and especially Mexico by vehicle?

‘You know, I opened this campsite to take away travellers’ fear of Mexico,’ Raúl tells us at his ranch in the north of the Baja California peninsula. The ranch is less than an hour away from the border between Mexico and the USA. Many people fear this border. There are travellers who believe that as soon as they drive across, they will be mugged, and a corrupt police officer will be waiting on every corner.

We are at the end of our journey through Mexico. Raúl’s ranch is our final stop before the border crossing. And to be completely honest: he doesn’t need to convince us anymore; Mexico enchanted us a long time ago. Staying with him is the unexpected, crowning final.

We spend Good Friday eating fish tacos around the campfire, together with his family and friends who have come here for Easter. The horse ranch is so idyllic that instead of staying for one night, we end up staying for another four – delaying our border crossing into the USA for as long as possible.

Is it really that dangerous to travel through Latin America?

Mexico is the final Latin American country on our journey to Alaska. Before entering the southernmost country in North America, we are warned constantly – far more than with any of the other countries. The last time we experienced this level of intensity was before Nicaragua and Venezuela.

We were told we would experience countless police checks. That the military would have a heavy presence. That we would encounter widespread corruption or indigenous communities demanding money to let us pass. That there would be many closed roads and, of course, cartel violence.

Notice a pattern? It’s essentially the same list as before. Definitely nothing we hadn’t already known or heard about.

Since we were approaching from the south, the negative reports didn’t put us off as quickly as they did many other travellers entering from the north. We had heard similar warnings about almost every country – and after more than 200 police checks in Venezuela, it takes a lot to ruffle our feathers.

Even so, just for fun, we decided to keep track of the checkpoints again. The result? In just under two months, we drove through 34 checkpoints. We were pulled over at 12 of them, and we had to open the boot at 7.

Was money demanded? Not by anyone. Not a single time. Not even remotely.

Between cartel violence and everyday routine

Mexico is not a safe haven – certainly not in certain tourist regions or in the immediate vicinity of the notorious drug cartels. All the same, the day-to-day life of most people is not characterised by violence.

The people we met have adapted to Mexico’s peculiarities. They have all been checked by the police at some point and asked for a small “donation”. There have been curfews due to escalating violence, and they too know countless stories about what the cartels are up to. Their lives are admittedly a little closer to these problems, but even for them, it is not an unremitting daily reality.

No one we interacted with told us about extortion or paying protection money – something we witnessed first-hand in other countries. That this exists in Mexico is indisputable. The fact that the drug trade and the illegal criminal underworld generate vast amounts of money, undermine politics and justice, sow violence and complicate matters is a reality. Especially in impoverished areas where young, unemployed people are promised fast cash. Furthermore, the cartel world is regularised and glamourised through narcocorrido songs, which even make it into the pop charts.

However, in a country inhabited by 134 million people, this is not the reality for the majority. It is the media’s attention that remains glued to it – and the cartels know exactly how to generate that media spotlight. A striking example was the death of El Mencho in February and the subsequent roadblocks across the entire country. If cartel members know one thing, it’s how to bring a state to a standstill in no time.

Even in the state of Jalisco, the main headquarters of the Jalisco Nueva Generación cartel, there is a life that happens entirely outside of the drug trade. The majority of people live completely normal lives – just always a tiny bit closer to the dark side than is the case in Europe.

Are rural roads really that dangerous?

Before we entered the country, we were often advised to stick strictly to the toll roads (cuotas) in Mexico, as they were safer. Hmm. If they mean safer from the countless speed bumps (topes), then it’s true – and you save a lot of time, though they are also horrendously expensive. If they mean safer from police checks, we actually encountered most of them on the toll roads rather than in the small villages. We did, however, avoid driving across the mountains where cartels are known to fight over territory.

Just like in South America, we constantly kept ourselves actively informed: by asking the police, the locals, other travellers or via travel apps. This gives you a good picture of the current situation. If you ever have a bad gut feeling, it is always best to find an alternative route.

We leave Mexico with tears in our eyes. Because here, too, we experienced the hospitality of Latin America in its absolute abundance. The long Easter weekend at Rancho La Bellota was a worthy finale. There is no better description for the people of Latin America: good food, deep conversations, plenty of laughter and an incredible warmth.

If we take a single insight home from this journey, it is this: the vast majority of people are, at their core, simply good.

The border appears tidy and clean. The officials are organised, and only a few people are queuing to enter El Salvador from Honduras. The roads are in good condition, and we reach Suchitoto fast, a picturesque little village in the east of the country. Here, too, is a similar picture: not much going on, everything looks orderly. It is only when we arrive at our overnight spot by the lake that the perfect image breaks: the entire shore is littered with plastic.

This first day is symbolic of the situation in Central America’s smallest country. On the one hand, order and cleanliness; on the other, massive problems behind the scenes – or are they already starting to peek out?

One thing first: we never felt unsafe. Not for a single moment. Not even when we spent the night by the lake at the only reasonably clean spot.

A country in transition

Security is the priority, and the homicide rate has dropped drastically. But the question remains: at what price?

However, not everyone who ends up behind bars is a criminal. Human rights activists are sounding the alarm: many are arrested in arbitrary raids and languish in pre-trial detention for years. Even children are being imprisoned for alleged gang membership, often without proof.

Furthermore, corruption remains present, and people earn very little despite the relatively high prices – especially those working for the state. And yet, for many, satisfaction prevails. They enjoy being able to move around the country without the constant fear of violence. We heard few critical voices, and those we did hear were mostly regarding the economic situation. El Salvador has become expensive; inflation has arrived there, too.

The Salvadoreños are friendly. They greet you often, and we are repeatedly asked how we like El Salvador. People proudly point out that it is safe everywhere and that we could spend the night anywhere. For this region, that is indeed extraordinary.

That’s what the roads in South America are like. There are huge differences and conditions often change with the seasons. But on the whole, the countries are passable with any type of vehicle. You just have to choose your routes accordingly.

Motorways and toll roads

The main roads are paved and there are usually good motorways. You will make good progress, especially around the big cities. You usually pay a toll, depending on the country, a few cents as in Bolivia (although their tariffs were very opaque) or always a dollar as in Ecuador.

Tolls are usually charged on the motorways, but they’re in good condition. Only the speed bumps used to limit speed are a major hazard. Most local drivers, even those with the best off-road vehicles, brake very hard just before them, so you run the risk of hitting them from behind – it pays to keep your distance. And don’t forget that you have to expect everything on a motorway: walkers, cyclists, horse riders, cows, llamas, simply everything.

Mud and potholes

Country roads are different, they may have just been resurfaced or they may be full of potholes. The mountain roads are always a surprise – even if they’re supposed to be national roads, don’t expect to drive faster than 50km/h.

The smaller roads can have potholes and you have to be prepared for anything. But this is true everywhere. That’s where a high-riding car comes in handy. It doesn’t have to be a 4×4, but a two-wheel drive without a lift is definitely limited. And above all, every pothole (and there are many) becomes a major bump in the road.

Then there are the unsealed roads: some are brilliant, others almost impassable. This mainly depends on when they were last maintained and whether it is the rainy season. This means that conditions can change within months or from one day to the next.

The mountains slide, and there are places that are known for this. After a slide there is not much left of the original road and you can forget about getting through. However, the local bus drivers usually know what the situation is like. It helps to ask or just turn around when the road ends.

Is 4×4 compulsory?

Most routes can be done without 4×4; though if it’s very muddy or steep we’re happy to have it, but there are often alternative routes that are easier.

In our experience, your own driving ability is more important than whether you have 2WD or 4WD. Some drivers get further with their 2WD than any other driver of an off-road vehicle. So it’s worth investing in a good off-road driving course before you start your travels, as you’ll also get to know the car better.

We got stuck three times

We only got stuck three times: once because it had rained so much overnight that we couldn’t drive on the muddy country roads. We had to wait a day for it to dry. The other time it was also raining and we were going up a stretch where there wasn’t really a road – but we wanted to get to that bridge. Once we had deflated the tyres and put our recovery boards in place, we got out. Another time the road was completely washed away and we had to wait until another road was built. Luckily we were never in danger.

In Bolivia, we were stuck for a while because of protests and road closures, but we got to meet a lot of the locals in the town. In Argentina we had to turn back 200 km because we couldn’t cross the river – too much water.

So actually RAIN is the deciding factor. When it rains, you often have to wait for it to stop and the road to dry out a bit or find another route.

Road works and schedules

Roadworks are an often forgotten detail. Here, unlike in Europe, they like to close the road completely, without providing a diversion and without being able to keep traffic flowing in one lane. Then the road is closed either for the whole day – as happened in Ecuador from 9am to 6pm. Or by the hour, like in Peru when we went to Machu Picchu. That means they work for 2 hours and then take an hour break to let the cars through.

The many signs with the schedule would be great – if they kept to the time on them. Sometimes they work an extra hour – or two – or they don’t work at all, in which case ‘lucky you’. As a reminder, schedules in South America are only a guide and are never binding.

As I’m writing this, I’m waiting in line again. They need to fix a pipe and everything has stopped. All day long, from 9am to 6pm. Even though only one excavator is working. But they had already announced it at the crossroads. Two women stood there with a handwritten cardboard sign – just like the ones you draw in primary school. They told us that the roadworks had been announced on the Ministry’s website a week ago, but no one had thought to put up a sign.

We just laughed and knew that we’d be waiting for 4 hours (until 6pm) or 6 hours anyway. The detour takes twelve hours and is 300 kilometres longer.