The Big Big Trip Journal! If you want to make the man (or woman) upstairs laugh, just tell him your plans!

[HobbesOnTour]

Covid Interlude, Saturday, August 28, 2021, Penonomé to San Carlos, 66 km Total KM 4658
Min meters 70, Max Meters 176
Total Climb 435 Total Descent 459
Min Temp 25 Max Temp 40 Ave Temp 33

Touring Wars: The cyclist strikes back!

In a galaxy country far, far away, a lone cycle tourist takes on the might of an unholy alliance between a treacherous road, malevolent machines and the results of a global pandemic. Just when the alliance seemed to have moved into position to crush the cyclist he decided to strike back!
(Since, apparently, I'm cryptic, that's a Star Wars reference!)

Another uninspiring morning. Only the shoulder was interesting

​

There's something missing in the mornings these days - enthusiasm. Awake at 5 am it took a while to get going. With no place to make coffee I headed up to a filling station and brought one back to my room. And hatched a plan.

I am not enjoying Panamá.

The road, the Pan American Highway, the stuff of dreams is actually a nightmare.
The social interactions, the fuel that fires me along is markedly absent.
Not only is it expensive, the number of places closed, food, shops and accommodation is making the trip tricky and, at times, stressful. It's only a matter of time before my luck runs out.
The one thing I have is time. I depart for Colombia on September 10, two weeks from today. How ironic that it's this place that gives me the luxury of time!

Crossing a bridge. At least this one has an attempt at a shoulder but the overhanging trees push me into the lane. I have zero confidence that anyone will make room for me

​

So, my plan is this: Slow right down. 35km today to an RV site (that accepts tents) and has a pool! A day relaxing by the pool.
The next day, a similar distance to another camping place via a few beaches.
Then off the feckin' Pan American, no way in Hell am I going to Panamá City, instead I'll head through a rainforest where I'll treat myself to a couple of days in a decent hotel. Why? Because it's close to the Panama Canal and I am not going to rush past that! Big boats in a canal? Locks? I could spend a blissed out week (and I may do if I can find a cheaper place!)
Then a run along a busy road to turn off for the Carribbean coast. A campsite there, up a big hill, a few days of relaxing, reading and the Carribbean!
Then the boat and a new continent!

What kind of a touring cyclist sets a goal of 35km for the day? This one!

The unsafe bridges are doubly frustrating because they often span interesting rivers like this one

​

With that in mind, I cleaned my chain, packed up and promptly had to risk death just to cross the bloody road!
"Ha!", I roared at the road. "You can't take me!", and joined the madness.

Today was about the experience so I pulled in after only a few kms for a cold drink and an empanada. Then I cycled on.

It didn't take long for my shoulder to turn to crap. "Ha! Bring it on! I only have 35km to go!".
At times it was gravel. At times it was overgrown, either from beneath or the side. Errant tree branches are the real reason I wear a helmet. Sometimes it disappeared - like for bridges and any time the road passed through a village. Then there was the usual litany of traffic stopping in the shoulder.

35km I said to myself. My mantra of the day.

I stopped for a coffee at a filling station, sat in the shade and savoured a soothing smoke. 35km.
Next door was a bank so I manoeuvred over, parked up and got talking to two security guards. This is sooooooo not Costa Rica where bank guards chased me off. These guys were all chat, friendly, interested and fun. This 35km thing is working!

Back on the road the clouds were moving in and the humidity was going up. "Only 35km", I told myself. "Take your time". So I did.

The drivers were obnoxious - and not only to me. The horns are horrible. Long, long, angry blasts for the misdemeanours of other drivers, unidentified blasts at me.
There is an ignorance, an "I don't give a damn about anyone but me" attitude on the roads here.
But I had my 35km mantra!

35km. 35km. 35km. 35km. 35km. The world's worst bike tourist?

​

It really doesn't take that long to cover 35km so with less than a km to go I pulled in to one of the super duper filling stations for a cold drink, a small snack and to use their wifi to catch up with the sports news at home - while it was actually relevant! What a treat! Only 35km - sure, I've all the time in the world!

I passed a very pleasant hour and decided that a swim would be good so headed down the road, turned left and ........
remembered the title of this Travelogue.

The place was closed and up for sale.*

The Touring Gods peed all over my 35km plan!

The rivers, large and small were about the only positively interesting things today

​

What could I do, but laugh? So laugh I did. Then I hit the road again.
Another 35km! I did it once, I could do it again, right?
But two things were different. First of all the road was crumpled - what had been gentle rolling hills became spikes that were anything but gentle and I was acutely aware that part of my plan was to actually pop down to one or two beaches and savour some more time with the Pacific before I leave it for quite a while. A Sunday, meandering. What could be better?
I could feel the Unholy Alliance starting to win. Which meant I was losing.
Not today. Not today.

The Unholy Alliance getting the upper hand.
Perhaps I'm looking with rose tinted glasses but if this was Mexico I'd tackle it with more confidence, if Honduras someone would probably offer a lift and if Nicaragua there would have been National Shame at the state of the road! Guatemala? I don't think I saw a road so flat?

This was going through my head as I rode so when I came to San Carlos, about 25km along the way I put my foot down, literally. I pulled off the road, stopped at a shop, bought a cold drink and took out the phone. Sometimes Booking has a last minute price and I was lucky. There was one place in my price range. I did a loop to check out one possible camping place - already noisy at 3pm and beside a party bar (no thanks on a Saturday night!) and booked the room.

It is truly amazing the power in a modern mobile phone. It didn't just get me a room - it was a portal into a different world.

I have a little room on ground level with a patio out front for cooking!
I walked to the beach then seeing masts in the distance headed for them.
I walked in the Pacific - it's warm here! - visited a marina and looked at boats.

The Pacific! It is amazing the effect the sea (or any reasonable body of water) has on me. The immensity. The consistency. The sounds. The mystery.

​

It's been ages since I looked at boats! There's an area where boats are stored on dry land. Boats from the US, Canada, one from Poole, a Dutch one from Delft and one from Limerick! I'd love to know the story of how a sailboat made its way from the mouth of the Shannon to San Carlos in Panamá!
Then the marina proper, with small boats toting huge engines, yachts and catamarans ready for world trips!
As much as I can appreciate the modern boats my heart really belongs to the old, the battered. The boats that just do without being showy.
In this marina there was only one - an old, boxy catamaran, tiny in comparison to its neighbour but defiant.

The Marina. Way, way off in the distance is the skyline of Panamá City but all I started seeing was Colombia. Walking around here it started sinking in just what I was about to do and where I was off to next

​

For days I've been trying to fire up some enthusiasm by thinking about my upcoming boat trip. I was doing it all wrong! All I had to do was visit a marina!

I took a walk past a fancy bar/restaurant ("food, drinks and ocean parties" - Yuck!) to sit on some rocks above the ocean. I forget the power and the depth of sound when a wave hits a rock.

I got to see some fish! One was a big, colourful spectacular looking guy. I've always seen exotic, colourful fish on the tv - now there's one swimming around below where I'm standing!

I walked back, my toes turning black from all the volcanic sand and couldn't believe that this was the same day as earlier.
I had the wind in my ears, the sound of waves breaking, a little girl crying with salt water in her eyes, her mother soothing her, a little boy yelling at the waves as they washed up and eroded his castle, a dog yapping when my wandering entered his territory.
No horns. No traffic. Bliss.

Walking the beach. Local fishing boats, expressive sky, people and the occasional yappy dog

​

I hit the supermarket, bought some fuel and food and had a lovely, relaxing meal outside my room.

If I stick to my plan tomorrow is only a 10 km day!

• There appears to be a glitch in iOverlander. It gives a "last check in date" which for a lot of places lately is August 13, 2021. In actual fact, the last visits/reviews could be several years ago. I'm aware of it, have reported it and am careful but this place also showed up on Google Maps and Osmand. It seemed a good bet.

Looking at Panamá City....... Dreaming of Colombia

​

Chat? Yes Please!
https://www.cyclechat.net/threads/chat-zone-for-the-big-big-trip-journal.254098/

 

[HobbesOnTour]

Covid Interlude, Sunday, August 29, 2021, San Carlos to Paraíso, 89 km Total KM 4747
Min meters -16, Max Meters 174
Total Climb 913 Total Descent 781
Min Temp 27 Max Temp 41 Ave Temp 33

Ditching the Mantra

There's a wonderful luxury to throwing open the door of my room and setting up the Trangia on the stone table right outside and brewing up my morning coffee. Other than my clumsy self, the fact that it is noiseless is a big plus in these situations. The young fella who checked me in yesterday passed me, a surfboard under his arm. Half an hour later he was back and impressed with my Trangia which had now disappeared into a pannier.

Then I hit the road.

Early morning, light traffic but a majority of heavy trucks. Couldn't drum up any enthusiasm.

​

Habit is a funny thing. Because of the easy access to my room last night I'd wheeled the bike in, leaving the handlebar bag on - normally it's the first thing off the bike.
On leaving this morning I didn't follow my usual ritual of putting it back on so the front pocket was left open.
That wasn't a problem until I hit my first bridge and its inevitable bump and my knife went flying. I stopped, laid the bike down and returned to it just in time to see a car drive right over it shattering the plastic cover into pieces and redistributing everything in a hundred different directions. I guess I'll need another knife!

I'd been thinking last night about where to go today. Was I really going to get back on the 35km plan (which was a little over 10km today) or was I going to push on? It was a Sunday, after all, the day of rest. A quieter road might be better. Mind you, I could hear trucks roaring along the road as the sun came up. Maybe it wouldn't be quiet. Only one way to find out.....

The road was quieter, at least for a while. Unfortunately, the proportion of ********* drivers (insert your own expletive here - I used all mine up today and invented some new ones!) was higher than anything I've encountered in a long, long time.
There was the guy who pulled in right in front of me, blocking the shoulder when the road was busy to buy fruit. No problem, I waited. Then he pulled off, staying in the shoulder and stopped at a second fruit seller, blocking me again. He must have known I was there, could have waved me past between sellers but just couldn't be bothered.
I lost count of the number of drivers who pulled in in front of me to have a pee.
Then there was the car of idiots who blasted the horn, slowed down beside me, roared at me and tried to grab me.
Many, many times I needed to take the lane for a shoulderless bridge, an overgrown shoulder or just no shoulder at all and not one fecker would let me out.

Meh. Meh. Meh. And more Meh. I chastised myself for my attitude but I couldn't change it.

​

At one stage I really began to wonder if I had become invisible - although the horns countered that notion. Lots of horn blasts that I just couldn't interpret. Too long to be a friendly toot, too close to be a useful warning. Eventually it dawned on me that the most appropriate translation was something like "I see you, I'm coming through and you'd better stay the hell out of my way".

Rolling past my camping option, in a commercial area along the road - it was actually a swimming place - I decided to keep going. The sea was a good bit away, the traffic noise would be loud and I wouldn't be comfortable leaving my gear. Hanging out all day with a bunch of Panamanians wasn't exactly high on my to-do list.

So, by default I had a plan, of sorts.

Hmmmmm. Not so bad. Except for the shoulder!

​

I was going to cross the Panamá Canal! A little later there's a hotel that is not my usual standard and I'm going to treat myself. The fact is, Panamá (like Costa Rica) is very expensive. By skipping the Capital I'm saving myself money - or at least that's what I tell myself! Besides, it's the only accommodation in the area.
It'll make the day long with a fair whack of climbing. But today won't be about the distance, it'll be about the time. Big, big roads, heavy traffic. Anything could happen. The trick isn't to grind out the miles, the key is to pace myself, give myself lots of time and not to rush.

With a destination I rolled on with purpose. But it was horrible.
The shoulder was excellent except for when it wasn't. And there was a lot of it that wasn't. I think I did more off-road/gravel riding today than ever before! On a feckin' highway!!
At the bottom of each rolling hill was a shoulderless bridge, usually a crappy surface and loads of gravel. It's soul destroying to pull to a stop before the bottom and face into a climb starting with no momentum. There were a lot of bridges.
I cycled down the Crystal Hill. Sounds exciting, no? In fact it was the shoulder covered in broken glass for a good half km or more. There was so much there was no avoiding it.
The traffic noise was thunderous - and that's without the horns. Throw them into the mix and it all becomes a bit much.
The noise wasn't helped by the large number of motorbikes racing through the traffic their engines screaming.
I opted to stop regularly and give myself a break.
Even that didn't work out well - it seemed that most of the shops, filling stations and restaurants were on the other side of the road!
I even spotted what could well have been a touring cyclist going the other way. Two white Ortliebs on the front, a long saddle bag strapped on. I waved but I'm thinking he was Panamanian because I appeared to be invisible. A lot of adjectives can be used to describe me on the bike but discreet, camoflagued or subtle are not any of them! White Ortliebs! I don't think I've ever seen any in the wild before!

The ratio of interesting views to terrible travel was very, very low.

​

I did manage a cold drink at one filling station and topped up my tyres. I stopped a little later to deflate the front one again as the shoulder was so bumpy!

Lunch was a disappointing chicken and chips.

Then I was on big, big roads about 30km from the Capital and nowhere to stop.

I'd prepared myself in advance. I had a "car route" - staying on the highway, a "bike route" that took me off for a while but always put me back on and a special "Alt" route that was specifically designed to avoid a nasty looking spaghetti knot junction. With sweaty fingers and a sweaty phone I don't want to be messing around on the rodside. Gizmo handles sweaty fingers! (GPS unit? Go for one with buttons - not a touchscreen!)

One senseless 200 meter climb was brutal. 5-8% gradient, a shoulder full of holes and gravel or just overgrown - with traffic blasting right beside me. For the sake of safety and my sanity I pushed up. The shoulder on the other side was just as bad so the descent was horrible.

Getting busy. Less pleasant. Someone should invent some device for neutralising car horns - I'd be first in the queue - so long as I don't need to cycle in Panamá to get it!

​

A few kms before the "Spaghetti knot" and I was out of water. I was feeling the heat and was a little lightheaded. Trust me - this is not the road to be lightheaded on.
I made the turn and promptly pulled into a McDonalds. A big Coke Zero and a sundae helped to lower my temperature. Two liters of water at the next shop was half gone before I cycled off.

When I rejoined the highway I was no longer on the road to Panamá City and it was a bit quieter.
It was about then that it started to dawn on me just what I was going to do next - I was going to cycle over the Panama Canal!

A bit of perspective. These blue hearts are common on the roads here. Each one signifies a death on the road. Often there is a roadside memorial, like in other countries, but here they tend to be hidden in the overgrowth. The most in one spot was 12-15, usually they are single, or perhaps double.
I thought it was a good idea, a clear way to remind drivers of a previous fatality. It appears I'm alone in Panamá thinking this. I could detect no change in attitude or driving style.

​

I'm pretty sure some folk reading this will wonder at my mental/intelligence levels. How can it be a surprise to cross the Panamá Canal? It bisects Panamá for crying out loud! It has to be crossed!
Let me try to explain.....
To me there are two kinds of knowing.
One is a cold, emotionless knowledge.
A bit like knowing that Texas is big.
The other is knowledge combined with experience so that I know something but I can also feel it.
If I close my eyes I can feel those long, wide Texas roads, scrubland stretching off to the edge of the planet or the sheer beauty of a sunset. I can feel the size of a forest that takes me a couple of days to cycle past.
One knowledge is numerical, physical, emotionless, the other is the polar opposite.
Ask me how big the Sam Houston Forest is in Texas and I've no idea. Ask me what it's like to cycle through and I'll bore the ear off you about friendly rangers, midnight walks under the silvery moon, dawn coffees as the sun rises and epic sunsets as the sun drifts down into a lake.
So when I say that it started to dawn on me what landmark I was going to cross what I'm saying is that I'm starting to feel, to "know" with more than just my head.

For someone who can spend hours looking at boats, at barges, rivers and canals are special places. To be able to see ships in a canal? Amazing!
To be doing it at the bottom (almost!) of Central America, having cycled there? Beyond amazing!
I felt a big grin starting to form, my face muscles protesting - they're not used to grinning these days.

It's another of those reality meets a vague concept moment and it was magical!

My very first glimpse of the canal.

​

I wasn't expecting this to be the kind of canal crossing I enjoy where I can stop. And watch. And see. And feel. Yes, feel! The height, the wind, the swaying bridge as trucks roll past - all part of the experience.
But there was a shoulder so I stopped. Maybe not the smartest thing I'll ever do but I wasn't going to rush through this.

It's not possible to cycle along the canal (I'd checked). Cycling into Panamá City on any day except Sunday is impossible. You need to get a lift over the bridge. Even Sunday is pretty bad. Tomorrow I'm taking a day to sit and watch the ships. But now? My first sight of this famous canal?
Damn right I'm doing it my way.

Puente Centenario.
It might not look too exciting and it certainly wasn't the nicest place in the world to stop...... But I was riding my bike across the Panama Canal. The Panama Feckin' Canal!!

​

In truth, there's not a lot to see. The canal is a muddy brown, the ships that I could see were a good ways away with the city skyline behind them.
But I was in Panamá. At the canal.

A lot of my touring has been along rivers or canals. The Danube. The Rhine. All over NL. Belgium. Canals everywhere! Working canals. I even broke off the Camino route in Spain one day to follow a canal for a while. For some of those adventures this Big Big Trip was an idea, a dream. Today it was reality.
(As well as enjoying travelling by water, following a canal or river is easy navigation for someone as challenged in that department as me!)

It was a great moment!

I don't think the Panamanian Tourist Board will use this in their promotional literature but me? I love it!

​

The hotel wasn't that far away down a small road but it had a sweeping drive up to it with grades touching 20%.
They let me take the bike up to the room!
I showered and went down for a swim in the outdoor pool. In the dark I had it all to myself with a lightning storm off in the distance.

Panamá hasn't redeemed itself but there's a little bit of today that I'll carry with me always.
And tomorrow? Tomorrow a little boy is going to look at some big ships!

Señor Jackass blocking me at the fruit sellers. The picture doesn't convey the number of horn blasts from upcoming traffic that I took as a warning to not even try and take the lane.

​

Chat? Yes Please!
https://www.cyclechat.net/threads/chat-zone-for-the-big-big-trip-journal.254098/

 

[HobbesOnTour]

Covid Interlude August 30 / 31, 2021

The Panama Canal

What's the title of this Travelogue again?
On my day for boat watching I got up to pouring rain!
Well, I am in a rainforest! I can see lots of trees so some rain shouldn't be a surprise!

All I wanted was to explore the Panama Canal!

It was tough to make the most of my enforced inside stay what with a huge breakfast buffet and limitless coffee but I tried, I really tried! (Irony, Willie, lots and lots of irony).

Gloomy and wet. Absolutely not a reflection of my mood!

​

A man approached me as I ate my breakfast asking if I was the guy on the bike. I'm (nearly) famous!
As it turned out he's French Canadian, here with his wife, two kids and a beautiful Shepherd called Appi who was apprehensive and growly at first but soon my best friend. (Yes, I'm aware of the fact that I can't recall any human names!)
In the way of these things himself and his wife cycled through Panamá years ago - apparently not much has changed - they weren't too impressed either!

Then the rain stopped! Thunderbirds were go!!!!

Seeing an opportunity for a decent bike photo with a backdrop of trees I perched Roccado on a kerb, stepped back and watched with horror as he toppled over and down.
I lunged and grabbed the front wheel.
The bike had fallen onto the sloped roof of a shed about a meter below the kerb and had been sliding down to another fall of maybe 4 meters until I grabbed the wheel.
Gingerly I drew him back and got him back onto terra firma. Having left the handlebarbag open a load of my stuff now sat on the roof! A borrowed brush and all was restored.
I'd hate to think of the damage that could have been done!

Relocated Roccado Shot. The yellow kerb is what he was leaning on when he toppled over. Imagine the shame of surviving this far and coming a cropper in the fanciest place I've stayed?

​

Now ready to depart, I did. But all was not good. My rear gears were jammed. Aha! Indiana Jones-like I casually checked my shifter for the errant hairband but this time there was no elastic impediment. Uh oh!
I upended the bike and had a good inspection, fearing damage to the derailleur, specifically the spring but I could see nothing wrong.
The cable looks rough - running down the crossbar of the bike (top tube) it has become a bit rusty (strangely only this one - not the front derailleur nor the back brakes).
Tugging on the cable made the derailleur move as normal. Even changing gears while upended worked.
Back on two wheels the lever still refused to move.
I removed the cap, had a poke around and it started to move better.
I cycled again - success!

By rights I should replace the cable but I'm about to embark on a sea crossing and plan on a full service in Cartagena afterwards. With a bit of luck the cable will get me to the coast.

At last, after the rain, the huuuuge breakfast, the almost calamity and the lesson afterwards I was ready to see the Panama Canal in all its glory!!

Ha! Dumbass!

There's precious little to see!

After meandering through a load of buildings and going off road, this was the closest I got to the canal. Not exactly inspiring!

​

Even though the road often runs right beside it there is hardly any view. Trees, or more often buildings, block the view, fences restrict access and, if moving, I always have to be aware of traffic.

Disappointed, but optimistic, I headed for the Miraflores locks where there is a (overpriced) museum but at least, or so I reckoned, a good view.

It being a Monday and this being the Big, Big Trip it was closed! Not just the museum but the whole feckin' complex it was in! A very pleasant, but firm security guard pulled me and explained.

Even the trees in Panamá seem to lack something.....

​

I had been heading in the direction of the city and didn't want to go much further but toddled into "Knowledge City", a very strange, bizarre place.
I'm only guessing but I reckon it's been developed from the time of the canal digging. Very square, incredibly neat and ordered, not a trace of litter (very unusual) and without any appreciable soul at all. I felt quite uncomfortable. A bit like wandering into "The Truman Show".
All commercial activity, shops, cafés, restaurants were located in one low block. I hit a mini supermarket for water went to get a bite to eat but baulked at the prices so headed back the way I came.

I was disappointed until ahead and above me I spied a ship! How often do we see a ship above us?

National Geographic's shot of the year? I think not! But the tingle of excitement that tickled me when I saw it was enough! I'm sure people thought I was nuts but I stayed on the kerb, at a busy junction watching.

​

And then another!

The footpath at a busy junction is probably not the best vantage point, but it was the only one open to me so I stayed and watched.

The thing with big ships on a canal is that it's not exactly fast entertainment! With vans and trucks regularly obscuring my view, not to mention buildings I squeezed as much out as I could and headed off.

I stopped at the San Miguel Lock just down the road having not paid too much attention on my way in.
Now, though, there was a ship in the lock slowly dropping down and another incoming!

Years ago in Hamburg I was captivated by the sight of huge ships in the Elbe. Something about a big ship in something other than the sea......
The great rivers (and canals) of Europe are great for watching huge barges laden with all kinds of cargoes.
For me, this is Christmas come early!

​

This was more like it!!

A convenient chili dog van meant I got to try one. I asked for the spiciest chili and it was bland! Oh México - how you spoiled me!

Yep! That's a choo choo train pulling the ship along!

​

Then I set off again into heavy traffic. It wasn't pleasant. I was planning to cross the bridge (and get a view from the opposite side that I crossed) and toddle off down a side road that I had seen from the bridge.

There was heavy truck traffic in both directions which had me pulling off the narrow, two lane road regularly. I started to doubt my bridge plan. Approaching the slip road to put me onto the bridge, a guy in a car parked across the road started shouting at me. Keeping an eye on traffic, across two lanes of busy traffic I couldn't make out a word but smiled and waved, neither being returned. Just more shouting.

Unpleasant. Quite a few trucks too, making it safer to just get the hell off the road.

​

The next thing I know there's more shouting, this time beside me - the same car with two guys in it.
I still can't tell what he's saying but there's nothing particularly friendly about his tone. They have slowed to my pace and are blocking traffic behind me - resulting in a lot of angry horns.

All I can say is that I can't understand what he is saying.

At that the car pulls ahead then pulls in front of me, the bonnet blocking my bit of a shoulder, the boot blocking the road.
This really freaked me out so I weaved around the back and took off up the slip road for the bridge. The car followed me. Once it was committed I stopped and they had no way back.

Given the volume of traffic on the road I think it highly unlikely that I was about to be robbed.
The bike was almost empty - just my barbag, one pannier and the flag.
I couldn't make head nor tail of what he was saying but it was a constant stream of vocabulary not the usual variations of hello, where are you from. If there were questions being asked there was no time for giving answers.

In any case, I decided not to continue across the bridge. There was a lot of traffic and the two boys could be pulled in on the shoulder after the bridge. Instead, I got back on the road and cycled past the hotel. Maybe I'd see a bit of the canal down this way.

A decent road and a canopy of trees made for a pleasant environment but the traffic in packs didn't.

Reaching a junction I turned off to head for the canal again but now the road was concrete slabs with steps between each one, nasty deep, sticky mud at the edge and traffic that would have no qualms about running me into it. I also passed a couple of bus stops to unsettling stares.

The side of the road was treacherous. Traffic in packs drove me right to the edge. If I went off the edge the wheel would sink (and stop) in a gloopy, mucky mud. I didn't know exactly where I was heading so after one close pass too many I turned around.

​

I turned around and headed back to the hotel.

A swim was what the doctor ordered.

Having learned my lesson, I had been in touch with a camping place about 25km from where my boat departs.
Unfortunately (or fortunately!) they have no internet and I had one last job to organise online - my health insurance.

I stayed an extra day. A very windy and wet day as it turned out.
Since I would be at sea the day my old policy expired I needed the new one organised before I left.

Health insurance for long distance/ long term travel can be tricky, infinitely more so when homeless, already on the road and looking to extend an existing policy or get a new one.
I had done research before I left CDMX, had continued probing on the road but hadn't pulled the trigger.

After the trip to Texas and now this it's a wonder my credit card hasn't melted!

Better than the road but nowhere near as exciting as the canal!

​

Chat? Yes Please!
https://www.cyclechat.net/threads/chat-zone-for-the-big-big-trip-journal.254098/

 

[HobbesOnTour]

Covid Interlude, Wednesday, September 01, 2021, Paraíso to Guanche, 78 km Total KM 4825
Min meters 54, Max Meters 196
Total Climb 836 Total Descent 887
Min Temp 22 Max Temp 40 Ave Temp 31

Running out of road in Panamá

Here's the thing about staying in a place with "Rainforest" in the name..... You have to expect rain!

I was up just after 5am to get organised. Downstairs for breakfast I saw the rain. Oh well, it just meant I could give the breakfast buffet a good hammering without feeling under pressure for time.

By the time the assault was over I was as full as the proverbial tick and the sky had cleared.

I set off. No more Pan American for me for a while!

Other than the traffic in bi-directional packs it was a very pretty road. When quiet, like this, it was bliss. Hot, yes, humid, certainly, but worth the effort.

​

The road was a narrow two laner with slippy, mossy edges and traffic moving in packs. I'd actually be passing by (or through) a National Park and to be fair I was quickly swamped and entombed by trees. It was probably the nicest cycling in Panamá so far - except for the traffic.

As a pack of about eight cars were passing me it started to drizzle but only for a moment. A very fine drizzle. Confused by the clear sky above the trees it took a few moments and some stinging eyes to realise that I'd been done by someone's window washer fluid.

Later, with a bus bearing down on me I pulled off the road to let him past. As it trundled past the first passenger had a raised middle finger and moved around as the bus moved away to keep the finger between himself and myself.

Later, on the main road the scenery was a bit further away

​

With such attitudes on display when I had a choice of a toll road or a "normal" road I took the "normal". I've no idea if I'm allowed on the Toll road and I didn't fancy discovering the attitude of other traffic on it.

This was the old road between the city and the port city of Colón. Going through commercial areas the shoulder was brutal, in rural areas it was variable and someone seemed to have done an effective job of stealing most of the manhole covers!

Panamá - not a country for being distracted!

​

It wasn't pleasant but nor was it as bad as the Pan American.

A roadie slowly caught up with me - very slowly - and then sped up and zoomed right past without a word or any recognition at all. Panamá in a nutshell - I'm invisible.

I stopped a couple of times for a cold drink and on arriving at Sabanitas I turned off with relief and some trepidation. Relief to be off the road to Colón, trepidation because iOverlander has an account of a nasty attack on a solo touring cyclist on this road.

A smaller road than before it wound its way through the less salubrious parts of town. Certainly not areas I'd like to be after dark. I passed several large piles of domestic rubbish just dumped (and stinking) on the side of the road with houses all around.

Off the main road, past the dodgier areas of town, a quieter road ....... And over the brow of a hill ......... The Carribbean!

​

Eventually I left civilisation behind and most of the traffic. I passed the occasional house, was shouted at, whistled at or ignored. Few returned my greeting and not a one smiled. I can't decipher the Spanish being hurled at me but body language and tone doesn't inspire a lot of confidence.

I was now close to the Carribbean and having risen over a hill and getting my first glimpse I turned off at a village to see this wonderful sight close up. A small road that ran along parallel to the shore was filled with small houses, not all terribly attractive. Apart from a glimpse between buildings there was nothing to see so I rejoined the road.

There were a few false alarms until I found a decent spot to take in the view and the moment. Another coast to coast!
And the Carribbean!
Although this one can hardly count.

A Latin Coast to Coast!

​

I passed a few rivers flowing to the sea, some very inviting for a bit of exploration. I stopped on one bridge for a rest, a drink and to appreciate where I was.

Panamá was really starting to turn on the style

​

I'd had contact with the campground by email and had been advised to call when I arrived so that they could give me a lift up the hill.

Such piffle, I thought. Until I saw the bloody hill!

Palm trees, the Carribbean, a quiet road (except when it wasn't)....... Panamá really has a bit of a split personality

​

Thankfully, the boss was working on the gate so I cheerfully and shamelessly threw my panniers in his pick up and set off up on Roccado.

That was a dumb move! Even unloaded the hill was brutal!

There were a lot of rivers entering the sea, some deep, murky and relatively still, others shallow and fast flowing.

​

Anyway, I've arrived, have a rough spot to camp on - but the view!
There's a couple of friendly dogs, a cat and very pleasant people running the place.
If I look out to sea I can see the queue of ships waiting to enter the canal. By day they are small and distant, by night a line of colour in the dark.
This is going to be home for a week or so until the boat is ready.

Panamá is almost at an end.
It will not be missed.

For the navigationally challenged (me) Panamá really messes with my head. I would have thought the country generally runs north to south but look at a map - it doesn't! Instinctively, I would have thought I was facing east - until the sun went down!

​

Chat? Yes Please!
https://www.cyclechat.net/threads/chat-zone-for-the-big-big-trip-journal.254098/

 

[HobbesOnTour]

Pan American Perils

There was no trusting the shoulder

Old concrete dumped and hardened on the shoulder. Often, tarmac had been laid directly on a layer of concrete.

Every road, path, layby, business or gate to a field meant debris and variable surfaces

These little yellow fruits often filled the shoulder. They could be as hard as marbles and if there was enough of them, it was, I imagine, like trying to ride on marbles.

There were a lot of bus stops. Each one forced me onto the road

Yep! That's a shoulder!

Never a dull moment! In the dry shade can hide some of the cracks but in the rain? It's pot luck!

Great fun! The tarmac above the concrete surface has failed.

The overgrowth wasn't really the problem, it was the unwillingness of traffic to accommodate a cyclist temporarily taking the lane. The adventures in these photos would have been far more banal had I had some faith that I was seen as a part of the traffic. I wasn't.

For situations like this just moving to the left (and staying in the shoulder) would trigger long horn blasts

Chat? Yes Please!​

https://www.cyclechat.net/threads/chat-zone-for-the-big-big-trip-journal.254098/

 

[HobbesOnTour]

Covid Interlude, September 02 - September 09, 2021

Rest days in Panamá


This won't be long!

I took a break. From everything!

My campsite was basic. I occasionally picked up a cellular signal but it never worked when I wanted to do anything online.

I set up well away from the few cabins and toilet block. Free ranging cattle and a couple of horses were my companions

​

I used my water filter on the mountain water.

I read. A lot.

My reading spot

​

I tried to let Panamá wash out of my system but I took a few rides and each time the traffic reminded me that I was still in Panamá.

The Paradox of Panamá: standing close to the edge of the road to take this shot resulted in loud horn blasts (on a relatively lightly trafficked road). How different from CDMX where traffic used to wait for me!

​

I swam in the Carribbean. A whole lot less current than the Pacific, it was warm, safe, and comforting. Unbelievably clear it was full of life.

Beautiful! Until a car, or especially a bus came along!

​

I saw more crabs and variety of crabs than all of the other wildlife in Panamá thus far.

My swimming spot!

​

I battled creepy crawlies, especially ants, yet every night marvelled at fireflies zooming around. On more than one night one entertained me in the dark by dancing around on my inner tent.

My grá for Palm trees has survived!

​

Rain was an ever present risk - never too heavy but still lots of rain. It was amazing to sit and listen to the rain moving in. A gentle rustling of the trees from the wind then something a little different. A heavier rustling. A soft "whoosh" sound. And then the raindrops would fall. I got wet so as not to disturb the process.

Lightning at night without thunder was spectacular when the sky was clear.

Stars were blazing.

Every night as darkness fell the queue for the Panama Canal emerged out of the darkness. Big, small and sometimes huge ships lined up. Long and short. All lit up in white and orange. Like a distant highway.

The husband of the couple who ran the place was Colombian and had no problem talking up his country! And its food! Since Guatemala the variety and quality of the food has been dropping and since Costa Rica rising exponentially in price. Cheap, tasty food will be most welcome.

Sometimes the power of the sun is blinding and sucks all the colour away. Unedited picture.

​

It had been my intention to poke around on CGOAB about Colombia but without internet that didn't happen. That's no biggie. It's a big, big place and I'll have 90 days to wander around. No border for 90 days! The luxury!

That fact, coupled with the talk of food had me humming a song......

View: https://youtu.be/IPg2IK6OLGM


Colombia. My Promised Land?

The sun sets on Panamá and Central America (look closely for the Canal queue!)

​

Chat? Yes Please!
https://www.cyclechat.net/threads/chat-zone-for-the-big-big-trip-journal.254098/

 

[HobbesOnTour]

Covid Interlude, Friday, September 10 2021, Guanche to Puerto Lindo, 28 km Total KM 4853
Min meters 20, Max Meters 75
Total Climb 214 Total Descent 273
Min Temp 25 Max Temp 37 Ave Temp 33

Bikin' to the Boat!

There was one concern I had about today - packing everything away dry. I'd be allowed one bag on the boat, everything else into the hold. Anything that wasn't dry wasn't going to get dry for a while.

The Touring Gods were kind, though. A dry morning, sunshine and a bit of a breeze and just about everything got packed away dry.

Just before departure. Everything dry and packed up as the sky turns ominous. As it turned out the foul weather stayed well offshore

​

I accepted the offer of a lift down the hill for my gear (yes! It was that steep!), loaded up and set off on the last few kms of Central America.

I had changed out my usual packing system and was carrying some extra stuff for the bike, chiefly a big roll of plastic for wrapping the bike. As a result the bike was a tad unbalanced and since I hadn't ridden loaded for 10 days it felt strange at first.

It does look very pleasant, doesn't it?

​

Yesterday I had received an email to say the meeting place had changed, then later it changed again. It took about 12 hours for my reply to the first to go through, the second was still queued.

Arriving into Portobelo I pulled in for a snack and cold drink. Free wifi showed no more changes. I could have stayed here in more comfort (and at much greater expense) but I don't think I missed too much.

Old fortifications at Portobelo

​

I set off again on an inland loop to bring me to Puerto Lindo. Away from the sea there were a lot of hills. Short, steep buggers. Under a very hot sun.

This was some of the nicest cycling in Panamá simply because there was so little traffic. The scenery was interesting too, although it was very hot.

Distracted, I hit a pothole too fast and dislodged a rear pannier. I pulled in, reattached and set off again. It was only later that I noticed that a screw had ripped right through the material. This is the pannier with the original fastenings so a repair is necessary and I'll replace the Ortlieb fittings as I did with the other.

Lots of rivers meandering into the sea

​

I scouted Puerto Lindo to find no open store then headed to the "public dock" as instructed. Except there are two public docks in the town. No-one at either.

From the public dock in Puerto Lindo. I tried not to take the sunken boats as an omen!

​

I chatted to some Germans at a dive school and settled down to wait. It was 12:30 and the rendezvous was at 14:00.

14:00 came and went with no sign of anyone. I cycled between the two docks (over a bloody big hill) to be sure.

I was annoyed, not worried. Departure wasn't until tonight, the boat was at the marina a few kms out of town as far as I knew and since I had paid nothing, not even a deposit, I figured they wouldn't leave without me.

A real live sloth! Now I know where they get their name from! Unbelievably slow! I passed a very interesting time watching him cross the road (traffic waited), then climb a road sign to pull himself up into a bamboo tree. Scary claws at the end of each limb!

​

The first change of meeting place had been to a restaurant. I headed there anyways and spoke to a lady. She started to make some calls when a minivan pulled up and people started to pour out - my travelling companions, unaware that plans had changed.

There are worse places to wait......

​

To cut a long story short we loaded all our gear into a boat and headed out to the big boat. I was still a bit peeved having hoped to have had a bit of time to prep the bike. In any case, I got to wrap him up on the big boat and he was placed in the hold.

Then it was off to the marina itself to pass a few hours, eat, drink, get to know each other and have immigration stamp us out.

About 8pm we returned to the boat and prepared to sail overnight.

Bye Bye Central America.

Chat? Yes Please!
https://www.cyclechat.net/threads/chat-zone-for-the-big-big-trip-journal.254098/

 

[HobbesOnTour]

Covid Interlude, September 10 - September 15, 2021

Crossing to Colombia

I hadn't really thought much about this part of the Big Big Trip other than that I wanted to do it. I mean, it's a boat! What's not to like?

It is not possible to travel overland to Colombia. Well, technically, it is possible, but it's not easy, comfortable nor safe and if you do arrive alive, the Colombians won't accept you!
So, getting to Colombia was always going to involve a boat or a plane. I prefer boats.
Note for anyone considering similar: Unless you really want to visit Panamá and really want to sail to Colombia I'd seriously recommend flying from Costa Rica. In actual fact, I might suggest flying from Nicaragua and doing Costa Rica by car/bus.

Since it was a long, long way away when I set off I had made no contact with anyone until I was contemplating leaving CDMX so I dug into my notes and started an email correspondence. That brought me to Puerto Lindo.

I hadn't looked at a website or read a review, I just knew that these guys took bikes. I had no idea of an itinerary other than I'd land in Cartagena and that was in Colombia. I didn't really need to know anything else, did I?

An island to explore, reefs to investigate, warm, crystal clear water. It's a tough life!

​

In truth no. A couple of weeks before departure a couple of emails were sent out with information about buses from Panama City, rendezvous times etc. Only then did it occur to me to ask about accommodation! I'd be sharing a cabin.

There were ten passengers - three couples (one on honeymoon), three young German friends and yours truly. Nationalities were German, Swiss, Swedish and English. Three women, seven lads. I was by far and away the oldest!
The crew consisted of the Captain, a mate and a cook. So thirteen people in total.

A close up of the water. It really was very clear. A fair whack of rubbish washes up on the islands but the water is vital and full of life

​

I thought I was travelling "heavy" until I saw the amount of booze being brought on board by everyone else. I had nothing!

We set sail a little after 8pm on the tenth with the plan of being anchored in the San Blas archipelago the following morning. A couple of days exploring San Blas islands and then a 36 hour (minimum) crossing to Cartagena.

That first night was not pleasant. I was the only passenger not to have or take seasickness pills and the second one to throw up.
I hate throwing up.
It was a real surprise to me. I've had some pretty hairy experiences on ferries and never a problem. I'd confidently ignored the suggestion to invest in seasickness pills. Ha! Dumbass!

As wonderful as the reefs are for exploring there is real danger amongst the beauty

​

When the time came to go to bed I had a raised bunk in a cabin with another couple - they had a double bed.
We had a ceiling hatch that was to stay closed (rain) and a small window at the side (above my legs). The first night the bedroom door was closed - we learned after that to leave it open. The room was incredibly stuffy.
To say my bunk was claustrophobic would be an understatement. I genuinely felt like I was in a coffin.
On the open side a wall extended from the back of my head as far as my elbow.
The ceiling was about six inches above my head.
The closed side contained a small window that only seemed to emphasise the lack of space that I had.
The space between both sides was just wider than my shoulders.
The open side narrowed at my knees making sleeping from the other end impossible.
Finally, there was no space to store anything so my pannier was at the end of the bunk. I was a tight fit.
It's not in my gift to describe just how uncomfortable I was.
Lying on my back it seemed that the ceiling was coming down on me, on my side facing the window was a similar enclosed feeling. The best was on my side, facing down and out.
Even later, when I discovered a small fan on the wall behind my head it did little to improve the situation and clobbered me if I moved without thinking!
I slept not a wink.

However, at dawn I was up and out, sitting on the front in fresh air watching a couple of dolphins frolicking in the water.

Dawn. Probably my favourite part of the day

​

There's a lot to be said for jumping into the sea to start the day! Especially when it's the Carribbean! The water was warm and incredibly clear.

Anchored near an island we could don snorkelling gear and explore. Or visit the island and walk around.
Such was our schedule for the first three days - after breakfast we'd move to another island and explore land and sea in the afternoon.

The food was excellent. Breakfast changed each day from pancakes to sausages to eggs always with lots of fruit and limited coffee. I missed my coffee!
Lunch varied each day too as did dinner, the highlight being fresh lobster and crab.

My second night in the coffin was no better than the first but on the third night I skipped a (drunken) bonfire on the beach of an island and bedded down on the deck. No-one said anything so I slept under the stars thanking the Sailing Gods for no rain!

Small islands. And lots of them!

​

I really enjoyed the snorkelling after the first day. The locations improved and there was much to see, plus I had figured out which gear was not so good.
Lots of reefs with a never-ending array of coral and plants in a kaleidoscope of colours, unbelievable amounts of fish, including a shark, a ginormous crab and several rays which kept me on my toes.
The water could be relatively shallow but the ground could fall steeply away to unknown depths, becoming blue and more blue until it faded to a blue-black.
That was probably my favourite thing to do - swim from the shallows bathed in daylight and full of colour and shapes to the deep, mysterious places.

Walking the islands was a treat, too. All bar one were inhabited, none were very big but it was easy to believe in places that not much has changed since people first arrived. (Interestingly, I refused to go to the most developed island with a bar, volleyball etc. - I didn't want to see the "development". I snorkelled instead. Not a single photo do I have because I wasn't bringing my phone or camera snorkelling!

Approaching Colombia

​

Evenings passed with drinking games and /or card games. To say I was feeling old would be an understatement. Before leaving the marina I'd bought a bottle of rum - the only thing they had - but my stomach never really settled after the first night.
It meant that I had the dawns to myself while everyone else slept off their hangovers.

There was a change of pace for the last two days - the run to Cartagena. With no places to stop it was ...... what's the expression? Non stop! Food was simpler and there was no escaping the boat. I had no recurrence of the seasickness and while the others passed the time drinking I enjoyed my book and the endless sea views.
The last night the weather turned and dumped lots of rain, thunder and lightning. It's quite an experience a huge thunderstorm at sea!
In the dark there's the sound of the sea, explosions of light entering through whatever hatches or windows permit it followed by crashing thunder.
It's even more exciting when the boat was struck by lightning!
A huge bang and all the electrics died (including the fan!), we lost the engine for a while but soon everything was back to normal. It was the Captain's first lightning strike!

As regards the bike, I removed the pedals and the front wheel. The handlebars were dropped and aligned with the frame. Ditto with the seatpost.
The connection for the Son dynohub was taped up, the Cycle2Charge converter disappeared under tape and plastic, the light was wrapped in plastic, then the whole bike was wrapped in plastic. I had given a good inspection at the campsite, sanded any gaps in the paint and used nail polish generously. It was stored well, in a section to itself and doesn't seem to have suffered any harm.

I'm not at my best in groups, or at least don't feel particularly comfortable in strange groups. Everyone was pleasant and easy to get along with but as the only solo traveller there were times when I was the outsider.
Snorkelling, for example, was done in pairs.
I'm just too damn old for drinking games and while some of us had visited the same countries our experiences were very different.
As I was breaking down the bike to load it onto the small boat to take us out I was asked in all seriousness if I was leaving the bike behind!
It's interesting to get a glimpse of how others do it and at the risk of coming across as a superior SOAB I had cause several times to wonder just how much of the country some got to see as opposed to the venues and activities laid on for tourists.
I think I said it before but if I did this trip when I was younger it would have been very different.

A recurring thought regularly throughout this trip has to do with the merits, or otherwise, of solo travel.
I think I'd have had more fun on the boat trip with a companion, but since I hadn't really thought about it much in advance I got to do what I wanted to do so I have no complaints.

Sitting at the Marina waiting for the dinghy to bring me out (solo traveller goes last!) I was chatting to the sterotypical retired sailor. Long, grey hair, tanned, weathered, lined face, lean and hardy with a never ending rum in his hand he seized on my drumming my fingers as evidence of nerves and fear.
"Not at all", I smiled back. "Excitement".
He studied me and declared triumphantly, if derogatorily, "You're a biker'".
"I am. So?"
"All you bikers can't wait to get off the boat".
"Not me", I smiled, "not me". "I can't wait to get on! There may well be a problem getting me off!".

Anchored in Cartagena

​

It's probably a strange thing to write but for me, the image of crossing the Panama Canal will be with me to my dying day. The San Blas islands? Not so much.
We enjoy what we enjoy, irrespective of what Tripadvisor or anyone else says.
I enjoyed the boat. The sea. The wide open spaces.

I must be the worst tourist in the Americas! North, and now South!!

Snorkelling? No. Exploring islands? No. Boozing all day and night? No.
This is all I wanted.

​

Chat? Yes Please!
https://www.cyclechat.net/threads/chat-zone-for-the-big-big-trip-journal.254098/

 

[HobbesOnTour]

Cartagena; The First Day

It is the best of places, the worst of places.

Cartagena doesn't just ooze history - it is history. The narrow streets, the colonial buildings in various states of repair and the cannons are all substantial evidence of that. There are a lot of cannons!

Cartagena: The old and the new

​

The streets of the old town are just phenomenal - narrow, tall, colonial designs, vivid colours and usually bright, vibrant plant life. I could wander around for hours. And hours. And then do it all again in a different direction.

These narrow streets are wonderful to walk along. The taller the buildings the more shade. Shade is important - the sun is relentless!

​

It is also hot. Very hot. I don't know if it's my increasing proximity to the equator but the sun feels hotter and burns more. With no bike there's no Gizmo but looking at a weather app on my phone late in the afternoon it told me it was 32C but felt 40!

An impressive pink building on the edge of the old town. I'd love to tell you more about it but I was heading for shade and in desperate need of a drink!

​

Cartagena, however, doesn't seem to approve of my meandering.
I need a destination, a goal. Why? Because I will be pestered, shouted at, accosted and regularly interrogated about what I'm looking for and where I'm going.
It's usually a male, usually young, usually with something to sell - a hat, a bracelet, a t-shirt, but it's all just a prelude to the offer of drugs. And sometimes women.

I must look worse than I think - a junkie who can't manage to woo a woman!

A lot of the streets had beautiful shots of colour

​

It took less than ten minutes from setting off from the marina on a loaded bike to be offered cocaine and some of those ten minutes were spent in a bank!
Walking around the old town? It was pretty constant. It's the preamble that gets to me. "Just hurry the fook up and get on with it", I think to myself when the latest chap slips in beside me and starts a conversation.
Where am I going? Nowhere, I'm just following my nose.
What do I want? To be left alone.
Sometimes they follow me for a while. One chap grabbed me by the elbow and I had to fight the urge to clatter him.

And some streets went to extra effort!

​

Perhaps being solo doesn't help. I don't have anyone else to talk to so that makes me a prime target. I think the pandemic adds to it. There are far less tourists around than usual so business must be slow.
It's frustrating. My usual modus operandi of sitting and watching is being seriously strained.

It also paints an interesting picture of what tourists get up to here.
I've no interest in drugs other than my staples - caffeine, nicotine and the occasional alcohol. At this stage I can take booze, or leave it. Try and take my coffee away and there will be killings!
I used to take a "live and let live" attitude to others drug use but after México and doing a bit of reading around the subject the fact is consumption of the white powder costs a hell of a lot more than what someone pays for a gram.
The destruction of lives of complete innocents is on a huge scale. It may well be far away from the end user but it happens.
I recall a few years ago reading about Colombia and Medellín in particular. I decided to put Medellín into Amazon and see what came back. Lots of books. And lots about "getting" the "best" women in Medellin.
Yep. Books about how to acquire hookers.
I was doubly shtumped.
First of all, who needs a book for that?
Second of all, who writes that kind of a book? Do people really want to project themselves as experts in that area?
I must be very old!

Cool shade and lots of balconies. In fact, there were so many balconies I was reminded of Alpine architecture.

​

My first day in the city consisted of waiting at the marina for our passports to clear immigration. Interestingly, the Captain took our passports to Panamanian immigration in Puerto Lindo, kept them until Colombia and we never interacted with the immigration folks at all.
Natalie, the only female crew member, told me that a cyclist on the previous trip hadn't exited Costa Rica properly and was denied exit from Panamá! He had to go back to the border to exit properly! That was something I was thinking of doing when there were no places open to pay my CR exit tax!

I liked the little pink seat

​

Once I had my passport I set off to a bank for some cash (always nervous on the first attempt in a new country) then set off to the AirBnB. It was only a couple of kms so I meandered around a bit, then couldn't find the place but did find the bike shop which I had been in contact with about servicing the bike and they pointed out the door.

How could I not walk down here? The street screams "Life!"

​

I got checked in, discovered a lack of wifi - a serious problem - and then set about trying to find my new Wahoo Roam. (A warranty replacement.) It had been sent to the address but due to an import charge had not been accepted. It showed up later that day. With no wifi though, it is mapless! (Edited to add that it actually has the maps on it - they just need to be updated).

Just one of many, many doors that caught my eye

​

I popped out for a cold drink, a coffee and a snack and a wander then had a siesta and had my third shower of the day (no showers on the boat!) before heading out for a goodbye meal with all the folks from the boat.

Chat? Yes Please!
https://www.cyclechat.net/threads/chat-zone-for-the-big-big-trip-journal.254098/

 

[HobbesOnTour]

Cartagena the other days Part 1

My second day meandering did not improve things. I headed into the old town and could not relax. At all.

The harassment, because that's what it felt like, was constant. Stop to photograph a door (there are so many wonderful doors) and I'd be approached. Sit at a little Plaza or a little park and the same. It was like I was in Top Gun - my Spidey senses were tingling and klaxoning when someone got a "lock" on me. More often than not there were no evasive manoeuvres that I could take.

Cartagena does have some interesting trees

​

It wasn't just the darker side of offers, it extended to tours (I have never seen so many people and places offering so many tours), restaurants, cigars, coffee shops and any kind of touristy store. A shout, a blocking manoeuvre, a laminated menu of choices (food, coffee, tour or crafts).
I tried to clear my head but it was so regular, so constant that it really, really annoyed me. The fact that I was regularly criss-crossing or reversing my progress on the streets didn't help.
I must be lost and looking for something!

Security is clearly an issue but nearly all buildings, certainly domestic dwellings are tasteful and secure.

​

Without a doubt, my favourite place is a little Plaza in front of a church in the Getsemeni neighbourhood where I am staying.
It seems to be quite a trendy area but in a very low brow way.
People gather at the Plaza despite little shade, to meet and chat. Later, some food and drink carts show up. Empanadas, kebabs, burgers, cocktails all available. A local shop selling beers and soft drinks will pour your beer into a plastic glass.
Space to sit is very limited and it is a very sociable space. My only problem is that I tend to stick out as johnny-foreigner-no-friends.
Nobody hassles me there, though. Getting there and leaving though is running a gauntlet.

An impressive colonial building from the old customs plaza

​

There are lots of narrow side streets, some of which are converted to outdoor dining or drinking, serviced seemingly from people's homes! To sit and pass a night here with good company would be bliss.
A narrow street, the sounds of people chatting, laughing, kids playing and cheerful music coming through a door and a window.

The neighbourhood is quite famous for its colourful murals. Narrow streets and huge, brightly coloured murals combine to create an atmosphere far in excess of the sum of the individual parts. Unfortunately, stopping to take a photo will initiate a conversation leading to a sales pitch or a request for money. And normally a tail. I really dislike the tails. And the constant calling out.

There are secure walls around the old town. Each time I went to walk them I gave up due to the heat. They didn't stop the city being pillaged by pirates though!

​

That's another thing - I appear to have forgotten all my Spanish!
Slight hyperbole, but the Spanish here is spoken fast - very fast. It also seems like folk are talking with mouths full! I am really struggling.
Add to that I'm back in the land of crazy money - about 4500 pesos to the Euro - and even understanding how much I have to pay for something is a challenge.

Getsemeni - a wonderful, winding street with murals on just about every flat surface

​

Despite email contact with a bike rental/repair shop before I'd left the Panama canal they weren't quite ready for me. You've gotta love Latin America!
The bike was dropped in on Friday and was ready on Saturday. No issue sourcing a (Shimano) 7 speed cassette or chain.

My favourite Plaza in Getsemeni. Have a look at the dresses for sale

​

With no wifi at the AirBnB I spent a good chunk of Saturday at a workstation in a mall (yes! A feckin' mall!). I thought it would be an idea to do a bit of recent research.
I finished excited and a bit antsy.
Antsy because I came across more than a couple of reports of cycle tourists (and vehicle ones too!) being robbed.
It looks like the collapse of Venezuela has swelled the population of ne'er-do-wells, or, perhaps, just desperate people. Heading towards Venezuela there are enough bad reports to bother me.
On the other hand it's exciting to open up a big, blank map of a country and try to fill it in!

A crap photo of one of the unofficial drinking and dining streets. Lovely atmosphere. A place where a solo traveller feels …….. solo.

​

My Colombian friend back in NL has sent me a list of places to visit and I think I'll follow those, despite most cyclists heading in alternative directions.

There is so much going on that I walked past this building half a dozen times before I actually noticed it. There is a lot of reconstruction and restoration work going on in the city

​

I also made a decision - no big cities! Colombia is going to be a small town country! My "route" will bring me close to both Bogotá and Medellín but I'm planning to avoid both.

I sourced some nuts, bolts and washers for the Ortlieb repair, patched the hole and reattached the bracket.

My favourite Plaza again, different day, different time.

​

I bought a needle and thread to repair my crotchless shorts. That exercise proved two things - my eyesight is failing and I am no sewer!

I went out on Saturday early evening after losing a good chunk of the day at the mall but was home within 10 minutes. I just could NOT take any more of the solicitation.

I found these accommodating models to demonstrate the engineering and dressmaking wonder of some ladies fashions!
(It will make sense in the next post!)

​

Chat? Yes Please!
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[HobbesOnTour]

Cartagena the other days Part 2

Sunday, though, gave me a different perspective. An early morning bike ride to the beach(es) and the hotel area was unpleasant because of traffic (light but mainly taxis) and flooding after heavy rain last night.

A walk back into the old town was far more pleasant! And relaxed! And enjoyable!

I visited a couple of museums - a naval museum (of course!) and a museum dedicated to the Spanish Inquisition.

An old church from a monastery. The church is still in operation but the monastery now boasts a pizza restaurant!

​

The Inquistion one had an interesting focus; Intolerance to other people's views and opinions is not a good thing. Punishing them for those views is a terrible thing.
When we stop to think about it, the Inquisition, in this part of the world, at least, really had some nerve:
"Let's go to a completely different part of the world. We'll take it over, kill lots of the natives with our diseases, import slaves from Africa, another part if the world, to replace them and then we'll torture and punish people for not being like us!
Of course they thought they were correct - they had God on their side!
My mind wandered back to the Cathedral in CDMX and the indigenous people carrying out their cleansing rituals right outside.
Some things can't be erased.

A church. Bad tourist that I am I forget which one! I like the relative lack of ostentation.

​

The Naval Museum was a tad proud, but interesting. Much was made of a famous victory over the Spanish. As is often the case with me, the building itself was as interesting as the exhibits. Formerly a Jesuit building, then a hospital it is said to be haunted!

Early morning in the hotel and beach district. Flooding after overnight rain, narrow beaches, most commercialised with sunloungers etc. for rent.

​

The park in front of the Inquisition museum and the open space beside the small, old, cathedral was where it was all happening though.
Like México, a large area for kids to paint, easels, paper and paints supplied, another area for practicing roller blading and bike manoeuvres. A band playing in the park and a few simple stalls selling (fresh) lemonade, coffee and a type of potato cake. The only hassle I had here was from a fearless pigeon!
The area was packed, everyone relaxed, even the hustlers and grifters seemed to have taken the day off. It was, dare I say, a simple way to pass the day.

From the Naval Museum looking out to sea

​

Later, back in Getsemeni, the narrow streets were filled with people sitting eating and drinking, kids playing and the sounds of happy Carribbean music. A wonderful atmosphere, even for an outsider.

That's a thing I noticed - the music. Cartagena is another noisy place but the music is invariably upbeat and celebratory. In México, by contrast, while there was certainly cheerful music there were also themes of sadness and lonliness.

It was a hot Sunday!

​

Another quirk is that while there are some stray dogs wandering the centre there are far more cats! Lots and lots of cats!

The ******** taxis are back with their ******* horns!
They are driving me demented! Stop at the side of the road to look at something or to cross the road, one after another they will pull over, slow down and blast the horn. I could maybe get used to the first one but by the time the fifth taxi has penetrated my skull I've had enough! Even on the bike they do this. Most of the taxis are quite small - they haven't a hope of taking me, my bike and gear! It must be some kind of Pavlovian response or maybe people around here have lost the ability to raise their arm and flag down a cab.

But....... The coffee! Ah! The coffee!
I updated this with two posts per day from a coffee shop that had wifi. One update was enough but I wanted another coffee!
The street stuff is not bad at all, either. Significantly cheaper, it's better than what a lot of places sell in other parts of the world. Served black and sweet from a flask I foresee little Trangia use for a while.
Further south I fully intend on exploring coffee country.

Beside the (small) principal park, a girl practises her bike skills. In a couple of minutes she'll be sharing the space with a gaggle of kids on rollerblades. Behind, in the space beside the Cathedral is a whole arts and crafts area for kids. A wonderful atmosphere.

​

I'd be remiss not to mention the female of the species.
Way, way back when this trip was little more than an idea an old girlfriend who has travelled in these parts warned me not to go falling for any Mexican women. "The further south you go", she said, "the more beautiful they become".
That observation has been generally true (Panama and perhaps Costa Rica being outliers).

I like doors!

​

I think a large part of it is the style - bright, bright colours, layers upon layers of fine material that move, sway, and billow with movement and the wind.
Another aspect is just how cool (in the temperature sense) they appear. The tourists are glistening with sweat and probably sun protection but the locals are used to it.
Even when a simpler style is adopted, such as cut off jeans and a simple top there's an elegance to it that would be raw exhibitionism somewhere else. Classy, not carnal. Feminine not flagrant.
Then there is the simple contrast between basic white clothing and the typical nut brown (or darker) skin.
In the interests of full disclosure, special mention needs to be made of the many style of tops that are little more than bras - with the emphasis on little!
(Due to extreme tiredness and slow internet the accompanying photo is in the previous post!)
I don't think it's stretching to suggest that never in the history of fashion has so little material held so much together!
Never a one for wasting time shopping I have to fight the urge to go into some women's fashion stores. There really are some spectacular dresses and outfits.

And door frames!

​

As elsewhere, the men have the choice of various t-shirt and shorts combinations. It really is unfair!

A big negative though is that they don't smile as much as the Mexicans, at least to me. I remember clearly the many, many smiles I received, even through a mask. Smiles that blazed from dark brown eyes.

It is interesting to watch the tourists adopt the local fashions. All shapes and sizes are catered for really, but the difference comes from the colouring. This afternoon I saw an obvious foreigner in a typical local, short yellow dress with spashes of greens, reds and blues for contrast. Unfortunately, the poor girl was very pasty skinned, had been burned vivid pink and had slathered cream all over her legs and arms. A kind of watery whitewash effect.
So near and yet so far, far away!

This ruin is a working restaurant! Very tastefully done. Unfortunately, it was an Italian restaurant and I have not travelled half way across the globe to eat Italian!

​

I'm leaving town tomorrow (Monday) and heading east along the coast. I did consider leaving today (Sunday) to benefit from probably quieter roads but now at the end of the day I'm glad that I didn't. Sunday changed my perspective of Cartagena - for the better.

I did consider varying my route to avoid some troublespots but that will either take me away from where I want to go or put me on quieter roads where the risks may be higher. Or not.

Without today I'd probably be more conservative, but after a relatively hassle free day it's the coast road!

Heat is a concern too. It gets very hot. Very hot. And the power of the sun is not to be underestimated. It is amazing how quickly a cold drink becomes a tepid drink and there's a longish section with no services.

Colour is never to far away in Cartagena. If I wanted to paint my house this colour in NL the council would have had conniptions!

​

Chat? Yes Please!
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[HobbesOnTour]

Sorry for the overload but it would be severely remiss of me not to give a taste of some of the fantastic street art of the Getsemeni district.

It was only when I looked at the photo did I realise that it was a snake!

I really liked this one

​

Chat? Yes Please!
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//

 

[HobbesOnTour]

Some more Central American Odds'n'Ends

While town signs like these were common in Panamá (not so much Costa Rica) they were normally inaccessible to someone on a bike.

A Speed Bump. This one was simply rocks dumped in a cement mix. The first one I gingerly crossed, the second I was a bit more lax and the third nearly had me!

Since México I have passed many, many AA buildings. They are clearly marked as to what they are, have meeting times, contact information and other services clearly on display. It would appear the second A is not quite relevant!

In Costa Rica it seems that Mother Nature is boss even of the power/phone lines

In Costa Rica crash barriers were regularly consumed by the flora. The start of the barriers didn't inspire confidence either!

​

Chat? Yes Please!
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[HobbesOnTour]

Day 738 , Monday, September 20 2021, Cartagena to Puerto Colombia, 112 km Total KM 11879
Min meters -10, Max Meters 85
Total Climb 529 Total Descent 485
Min Temp 26 Max Temp 42 Ave Temp 31*

Leaving Cartagena

My nipples are killing me!

Well, if Carlsberg did city exits......
Leaving Cartagena was a piece of cake! On the road just before six I barely had to deal with the taxis. There was one, of course, who I diagnosed as suffering from TPS (Tiny Pecker Syndrome) who just had to cut across and ahead of me at a junction.
After that, minimal traffic and lots of room. I was a bit put out out to encounter a tunnel but pushed through some bushes onto a pleasant cycle path that bypassed it. I'm not a fan of tunnels on a bike.
Then I found myself on a new split four lane bridge that swept past the fancy apartment buildings and then some hovels and across a wide estuary. A smooth, clean shoulder all for me and cars that gave lots of space anyway.

How's this for an exit? A wide, clean shoulder, an interesting view. Not a bloody taxi in sight!

​

An old boy on a MTB passed me and noticing the ample hydration bag on his back I followed him. Back on the highway proper he had no qualms taking the lane at times so I did too! Not a single negative reaction.

At about 20km I pulled in to a filling station for a coffee and a bite of breakfast. God Bless us but the girl was a rapid speaker and me without my coffee!

At my breakfast and coffee stop. I'm starting to think Colombia has a warm and fuzzy feeling for bikes!

​

Back on the road I was amazed at how quiet it was. A blessing, yes, after Panama but also a tad worrisome. Any bad actors wouldn't have to worry about too much traffic.
A toll plaza had a lane for motorbikes and me - no problem to cruise on past.
After the plaza the road reverted to two lanes but that made no difference to me.
One thing very happily missing was the sound of horns. After Cartagena proper not a one for about 80km!

What. A. Difference!

The shoulder wasn't always perfect but there were no problems in moving into the road.
Later, I had a total of four horns. Two were after roadworks when there was a bunch of traffic and one of those hammered out a tune. Can't see any malice or asshattery in that. A third was two Policemen on a motorbike who were busy waving and the fourth was my own fault, not paying enough attention going past a road crew and waving at everyone! 4 horns! That was a couple of minutes in Panamá!

Lots of straight sections and lots of trees. For a coast road there were precious few views of the sea. To my right is a large swamp

​

There were quite a few roadworks today, traffic corralled into a single lane. Similarly, quite a few road crews working on verges. They weren't the most expressive of folks but one or two always waved.

The temperature was slowly building up and the power of the sun was rising too. I was making decent progress but was worried about later. Right on cue my Colombian amiga had sent me a message with the instruction not to ride the bike between 11 and 3!
As the sun rose shade diminished and stopping outside of shade was very unpleasant.

The sea! After the swamp

​

I did stop for a cold drink and a short rest at a little, basic restaurant. Just after I sat down a group of soldiers, armed, came through along the road anf on foot in a sweeping action. I have no idea if it was a training exercise or for real.

At times there could be pedestrian traffic, often with a machete or other bikes - not recreational riders. I was on high alert at these times. Being wary of motorcyclists was exhausting because there were so many, often carrying two people and all moving relatively slowly. Two guys passed me slowly on one and I immediately noticed the passenger was covering the reg plate with his cap. A deliberate ploy to remain anonymous or has he lost too many caps and that is the natural place for his arm to fall?
On one of the very rare occasions that I stopped at the side of the road I twigged a pair of guys on the opposite side slow down as they passed me then further on cross over to my lane. Back on the bike and off I went.
I gave an axe and machete wielding man a wide berth and felt bad for my reaction.
I don't enjoy feeling like this but at the same time I can't ignore what I've read. Tomorrow will be similar then I hope to be better able to relax.

Hardly world beating views but I was content to keep hammering out the kms

​

It was underwhelming cycling. The coast road doesn't mean you get to see a lot of the coast! After about 30km the interest picked up in the form of rolling hills and a headwind. A surprisingly strong headwind.
It's a long day after a reasonably long lay off the bike and there's a few risky points. I'll take a safe arrival over views.
There's a lot of development planned. A few fancy club/gated communities are being supplemented by many more.
My view was generally straight ahead with trees on both sides. Nothing spectacular.

I had pulled in to Santa Veronica in desperate need of water and a bite to eat when everything turned pear shaped.
I was sitting out of the sun under a thatch roof after a very pleasant chicken lunch when a notification popped up on my phone from Facebook.
Iohan Gueorguiev had died.

The beach at Santa Veronica. Very narrow with a row of restaurants behind it. A pretty idyllic place to stop and get out of the heat for a while. A strange place to find myself battling tears

​

I'd mentioned him back in one of my posts about my preparation and inspiration.
His videos were fantastic and while I know that an autobiographical director can portray themselves any way they want there was a calmness to his videos, a "it'll all work out" philosophy on display.
Maybe he was like a duck - calm and graceful on the surface but churning like a demon beneath - but I doubt it and that calm style spoke to me.
It wasn't about the bike or the gear - it was about the journey. The people and the animals along the way. And enjoyment. I don't think I could survive, never mind enjoy some of the cycling he did, but I'm pretty sure he did.

I didn't know the guy. I enjoyed his videos. Was inspired by them. I didn't follow him on social media and a teeny part of me questioned if he was "selling out" by attending some global expos.
Because I'm travelling I haven't looked at any of his videos in months.
So it was a complete surprise to find myself battling tears in a pretty idyllic location for someone I don't know and never met.
I don't think it's possible to lay out specifically what influence any one person has had on us. I wonder how many original (to me) ideas I have had that were subconsciously fired up by someone else. An inspiration has been lost and that is sad. Very sad.
I hope his videos live on and inspire more people. People need to see others doing things to give them the courage to do their own things.

The fact that he died at his own hand (after a long term sleep disorder) will no doubt inspire commentary about the psychological make up and effects of long term travel and travellers.
It is a topic worth exploring but in a general sense, not in relation to one individual.
How many of us have felt the blues after a bike tour?
He was a guy who went out, cycled across Canada and realised if he could do that he could cycle pretty much anywhere. So he did.
That's something to be celebrated in my book.

A river heading for the sea. I broke my no malingering rule for a while. A slow river like this is very calming to me

​

I had tracked down a cheap homestay in Puerto Colombia and booked it during my lunch. There's another city further down the road but I've enough of them.
That last 25km was tough. Hot, hilly and my mind elsewhere.

The other side of the bridge over the river!

​

It took me a while to make my way through the narrow streets of the town where everyone stared but a few smiled and then I had to carry everything upstairs.
It's an eccentric little setup staying with a family but I can join them for dinner and conversation. I need to improve my Spanish!

For a hot, hot place it can be very, very green!

​

I was so tired that after a shower I abandoned my plan to explore the surprisingly big town. In any case, it's maze of streets would have me lost in no time and I'm a good way from the centre.
Instead, I perched myself on the balcony beside the bike and listened to the neighbourhood. It's loud!

Puerto Colombia. Much bigger than it looked on the map, higgledy-piggledy buildings, narrow streets that zigged and zagged. And loud!

​

Another early start tomorrow and another century day methinks.

*Yes! On a new continent I've decided to revert to the old format.
The number of days refers to how many since I rolled out of T-town (a frighteningly large number!), Total KM is up to Aporo (and the falling of the Covid hammer) added to my Covid Interlude total (a disappointingly small number!). It excludes any biking around CDMX

Chat? Yes Please!
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[HobbesOnTour]

Day 739, Tuesday, September 21, 2021, Puerto Colombia to Ciénega, 93 km Total KM 11972
Min meters 12, Max Meters 91
Total Climb 230 Total Descent 239
Min Temp 26 Max Temp 36 Ave Temp 32

Colombia - hits all the erogenous zones!

Well, I slept like a baby!
When I got up I was presented with an unusual sight. The man of the house was asleep on a bed where a couch would normally be, his wife on a mattress on the floor beside him. A teenager slept on a mattress on the balcony. I know they had at least one long term resident staying with them and a daughter or two somewhere as well!

I had a coffee, got everything downstairs and headed into the town just after 6.

Bouncing out of town

​

Once I had bounced and twisted my way through town and hit the main road I didn't know what was going on but the road was filled with bicycles! OK, a slight exaggeration, but there were lots and lots of cyclists, most on road bikes and dressed appropriately, some on simpler bikes. They were my company as I toddled towards Barranquila which turned out to be a very large city.
A handful acknowledged my presence out of the hundreds on the road but at least they all gave me space. In Holland, roadies can be a right pain to share a road (or bikepath) with.
There were cars waiting for them on the edge of Barranquilla so I saw them pulling up, legging it across two lanes of traffic, climbing over a barrier, two more lanes of traffic and then getting into a car.

Back on the main road, a strangely specific bike sign and cyclists front and behind

I took a kind of ring road to bring me around to the other side of the city. Like yesterday, I seized on the chance to follow two locals who seemed to be on a commute. Three full lanes of traffic on both sides with no shoulder - it was fun!
In an experience the complete polar opposite of Panamá I felt that I could trust the traffic.
Yes, there was huge amounts of noise, mainly horns but not directed at me, but there was a kindness to the chaos. Cars didn't pull out of slip roads, nor pass too close. A bus even waited for me to pass it! A bus!
It got progressively busier and more chaotic as I worked my way around and when the traffic slowed down it seemed perfectly reasonable to everyone for me to claim the middle of the lane to avoid the pedestrians, cyclists, a couple of horses and many bike taxis all going the wrong way on the edge of the road.
Chaos. But thrilling chaos.
Spotting a bakery I pulled in for breakfast then rejoined the chaos. I'd lost my guides earlier but picked up a new one - a frisky horse and cart.

Looking back at Barranquilla, a surprisingly big place. I should probably start doing some better research

​

When the time came to turn for Santa Marta all the traffic went elsewhere and I found myself on a new bridge sweeping over a wide estuary. If any traffic objected to my presence (there was a blue cycle path on the far side of the railing!) they didn't make me aware of it.

Not the first time I've ended up in the wrong place and no doubt, it won't be the last!​

Off the bridge I was onto a split four laner with hardly any traffic. Just before a toll booth I pulled in for a coffee and to water up - after the toll plaza there is nothing for about 50km. That's 50 km of pretty straight road with a headwind and some heat - it was already 33C at 8:15!

If you look on a map you'll see the road runs along the coast and then along a strip of land not much wider than the road that closes off a bay. I have no idea if this is a natural or man made phenomenon but for the cyclist it means a pretty straight road and headwinds - or at least diagonal winds.
The wind was present all day. When I was in sight of the sea it was cooling, if powerful. However the more land, or swamp to be more specific, it crossed the hotter it was when it reached me. Not helping the situation were all the clouds keeping the heat steamy and humid.

Colombian swamp.

​

Like yesterday, parts of this road have not been kind to previous cyclists so I was on edge a lot of the time. Motorcyclists especially were observed closely. Early on there were quite a few buildings to one side of the road. Shacks would be an appropriate description. A few touristy places were closed and up for sale. Later, I saw what could have been the remnants of some rough sleeping shelters under a few random trees off the road. Certainly little pockets of rubbish pointed to some human activity.
The fact is that on a road like this the solo cyclist can be quite vulnerable. There are no other roads. You ride to the end. Initially, traffic was quite light and well spaced out in both directions but it soon was steady enough. That should be protection enough. After the toll plaza the road diverted to a simple two laner so help was available on both sides if needed.

Straight, windy, hot....... And if I'm honest, a little dull. The Carribbean doesn't do it for me. I love the idea that I'm cycling beside it (or sailing over it) but it lacks something. ​

Once I had crossed the bridge the road was flat and that could be the word of the day - flat.
There were no Wow moments. Parts were interesting, but generally my view was of trees on either side. There were few times when I thought "Oooh! I have to photograph that", which is probaby a good thing as I was wary of stopping anyway. Like yesterday I knew what was behind me but had no idea what was ahead.

I rode and sipped, sipped and rode. I wanted to get to Ciénega ( a town called Swamp!) at least, possibly Santa Marta, 35km further. I was having a niggly problem however.
Yesterday, my ass had become quite sore, or a specific point had to be more accurate. Today, it was acting up from the get go. I'd made a couple of saddle adjustments but they didn't help much after a few minutes. Sweating like something that sweats a lot doesn't help. My shorts spend a good chunk of these days very wet. A part of the problem is that I have shrunk! My shorts will happily slide down over my hips if I'm not careful, especially after a couple of hours on the bike. (That's also a part of the reason for the crotchless shorts - they end up being worn further down than they should).
This results in a kind of crinkling effect - of the material and the skin underneath.

Swamp on the seaward side. There were a lot of dead tree stumps that cast an eerie atmosphere

​

There's a long settlement after the second toll booth and as the land starts to widen out. Spying shade I pulled in for a cold coke and a crisp sandwich - any food places were in the sun and nutrition was less important than shade!
An ice cold coke from a glass bottle, decent bread(!) and crisps may be a child's meal but it was gastronomic bliss!

Spooky!

​

On reaching Ciénega (Swamp!) I decided enough was enough. It was hot, my ass needed attention and anyways, pushing on to Santa Marta would leave me with feck all time in Santa Marta.
The hotel was cheap in 2018 (iOverlander) and just as cheap for me! Very nice people made me welcome and tried to not make me feel too bad at not being able to understand them!
A refreshing cold shower and I was a man on a mission! Ciénega had a Plaza. Let's see what small town Colombian Plazas are like!

This is my two finger salute to anxiety. Somewhere in the mid 30's km markers two cyclists had been held up at gun point. I'd been anxious for two days and decided that I was going to take some control back. So I stopped, took a photo, yelled an obscenity into the wind and reclaimed the road for people on bikes.
It probably seems dumb, but it feels pretty darn good!

​

Getting there was fun!
Doubling back along the road I'd travelled in on gave me a real appreciation for the chaos! Then I turned off onto smaller streets, through the market area (the noise!) and arrived, suddenly, into a calm, elegant and tranquil zone.
Some ancient deity must have dropped many portals in the Latin American world because I seem to be regularly transported between worlds in crossing a road.
It was a bit open, a bit too "managed" for my taste but it had the essentials and was a place for meeting and chatting.

Parched, I bought a litre of pineapple juice and plonked on a bench and watched.
And waited. And watched some more.
Not a lot happened.
What was I expecting? It was mid afternoon, the sun was blazing, the temperature high, and shade was limited. This ain't no Mexican park!

The Cathedral, brilliant white (a lot of buildings are) was old and pleasingly simple. Elegant not ostentatious. Quite a few people in for a mass or service that seemed to be starting at 4pm. And not all of them old enough to be on Peter's doorstep.

A Colombian Plaza. To look at the Plaza, you'd be forgiven for thinking that Ciénega (Swamp!) was an elegant, cultured place. Walk two minutes to the right of the bandstand and you'd soon be corrected! That's not meant as a slur - I love the vibrancy, the life and the chaos of these places. Sure, I can be a little uncomfortable at times, but if I wanted comfort I wouldn't be travelling by bike!

​

Overcome with fatigue I wandered back to the hotel by a different route. I was barely approached - only by motorbike taxis. Pleasantly different.
Conscious of the fact that I needed to eat I kept my eyes open but nothing tempted me. I couldn't help but think of what I'd eat in México - a couple of fiery tacos. Even passing a chicken place failed to fire up the taste buds. Just before the hotel I hit a supermarket - some yoghurt, some granola and some water. How boring!
Back at the hotel I struggled to stay awake long enough to eat it!

Chat? Yes Please!
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