Sleeping in a hammock, I generally get a very restful sleep, so wake up early and refreshed. That’s why at just after 5:15am I was up and packing things away, even though I’d stayed up until 10pm editing photos. The first hour of riding, I averaged an easy 18km/h, but by 7am the wind had picked up and my speed dropped quickly, as I would ride into a headwind all day long. Over the day, my average ended up at 11km/h for 115km on an ostensibly flat road. There were a couple of interesting
When I got to the post office at 7:10 there was already a queue, even though it had only been open for 10 minutes. That was probably because people were eager to get their posting done before the work day began. As for me, I figured that the French postal system might be better than the Brazilian one – fingers crossed. It started pouring it down while I was inside, so I took shelter, speaking to a Brazilian boat guy. He seemed to be an official sign post, as he asked where people were going
Anything that had got damp in the boats the day before dried out overnight. I was up not long after 6 as we’d been told the immigration office might open at 7. With the daily boat scheduled to leave at 7:30, it wouldn’t have left much time to get everything organised. It wouldn’t have, if I’d been in a country like Japan where things run on schedule, where the immigration office wouldn’t have opened before 9am as the sign on the door said. As it was, at 7:30 the
I’d decided that the best way to get to Colombia, was to head to the coast and find the motor boats that take you along the coast. If I’d been willing to sit round for a lot of time, I could have gone to Colón to try to find someone sailing, but that could have meant me sitting round for days on end, which didn’t sound that fun. As it was, off to Cartí.
The last town before Cartí is Chepo, only about 65km from Panama City, that meant that when the rain drummed down I could
It turns out noises in the night do wake me up, especially when it sounds like it’s someone on top of the roof removing things and then passing them down. A strange night’s sleep.
I was up pretty early with the plan of heading to the Nicoya peninsula. It’s a very pretty part of Costa Rica which sticks into the Pacific and would give me a chance to avoid being on the Interamericana. The alternative way of avoiding it was to head north towards a volcano and large lake, but I was