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STUFF COMING SOUTH (Cosas que van hacia el sur)
(On a Surly Long Haul Trucker LHT, in Orlieb panniers) Starboard front (frente a estribor)
Port front ( frente a babor)
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Yellow Orlieb bag (Camping gear)
Port rear (trasero a babor)
Handle bar bag
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27/3/2012 Granada to La Joya Eco Community 8k north of the CR border
99.3k, 8hrs Av 16.63 Total 8038 (Distance from USA and a few k in Nic 7938)
Departing 0630, the two Daves and Saskia gave me a hand to load up. We bade farewell. The bike was in good shape,unlike its rider.
The trip to Rivas was uneventful, stopping only for a feed of water melon. One hill was encountered, very lucky for me as it was hard work.
Arriving in Rivas at 1100, the plan had been to stop there for the night. Pulling in to check my map and ask someone what towns had accomadation. I moved on.
The whole trip so far had been a series of small distances between greeting someone or being greeted. The Nicas are so friendly.
One could never go hungry on these roads there were small stalls and pulperias everywhere.The mangoes are now in season and it has been a bumper crop. Just stopping under a roadside tree, one could readily fill a sack.
Soon after Rivas the PanAm followed close to the shore of Lake Granada, the wind was beginning to build from the east across the lake hitting me on the port side.
It built to a speed of about 40-50kms, hitting me side on, it was hard keeping balanced. One would be leaning into it, a truck would go by, the wind would be from another direction, the first thing the bike wanted to do was veer on to the road as you were leaning toward it so heavily.
The available shoulder was dodgy to say the least.
Passing a wind farm on the shores of Lago Granada, aptly placed one might add. The wind was so strong, the pole supporting one turbine was bent!!
I slipped through a barrier to take a closer look at one of these futuristic giants. Having not had the opportunity, the first word that comes to mind is indeed huge.
Stopping at a pulperia at La Virgen, the woman there, a most helpful person engaged in conversation with me for half an hour in espanol, all the while I was increasing my vocab, she was happy to answer my ¿cómo se dice? reply when needed. She informed me that there was a place down the road on the lake, arriving there, the asking price of $50 saw me head further south.
I was fairly wasted at this point, it was 1430hrs, I needed somewhere to stop.
Cramps in my legs were beginning to become a problem, stopping further up the road, I nearly fell over trying to keep the bike upright. Shit I really was in poor shape, in the USA this problem did not occur even once.
Heading on a bit further, the Las Joyas resort came into view on the lake side. The owner was at the gate. Five dollars for a tent site, incidently behind the beach front unit block. This wind was howling in off the lake.
The twins volcanoes of Ometepe Island could be seen, infact they were in good view for the greater part of the jouneys end.
I went for a swim in the lake to wash the days dust off. Had a shower and pitched the tent, frisbeed a few emails, cooked some dirty rice and was in the nest by 1930hrs. To say I was trashed, was an understatement.
Having said that my last night in Nicaragua could not have been spent in a better location. That on the shores of Lake Nicaragua, a majestic body of water that is synominous with Nicaragua.
Thinking about Granada enroute, there a few things that will always remind me of this city.
· The relentless flow of grey water in the gutters
· Horse shit on the roads
· People in rocking chairs on the streets at dusk
· The cooling breeze coming up Calle Santa Lucia off the lake
· Having a laugh around the table at the house
The huge resource of the volunteers Español being availabe
· $1.10 beers and 50c cokes
· Pollo, gallo pinto,Platanos, arroz and of course piñas and water melon
· The sweetest ever bananas
· The friendless of all people encountered
· The readiness to move on when “no gracias” is said to a street seller when having a drink in the bar strip.
· Riding down streets the wrong way, and no one too bothered about it.
99.3k, 8hrs Av 16.63 Total 8038 (Distance from USA and a few k in Nic 7938)
Departing 0630, the two Daves and Saskia gave me a hand to load up. We bade farewell. The bike was in good shape,unlike its rider.
The trip to Rivas was uneventful, stopping only for a feed of water melon. One hill was encountered, very lucky for me as it was hard work.
Arriving in Rivas at 1100, the plan had been to stop there for the night. Pulling in to check my map and ask someone what towns had accomadation. I moved on.
The whole trip so far had been a series of small distances between greeting someone or being greeted. The Nicas are so friendly.
One could never go hungry on these roads there were small stalls and pulperias everywhere.The mangoes are now in season and it has been a bumper crop. Just stopping under a roadside tree, one could readily fill a sack.
Soon after Rivas the PanAm followed close to the shore of Lake Granada, the wind was beginning to build from the east across the lake hitting me on the port side.
It built to a speed of about 40-50kms, hitting me side on, it was hard keeping balanced. One would be leaning into it, a truck would go by, the wind would be from another direction, the first thing the bike wanted to do was veer on to the road as you were leaning toward it so heavily.
The available shoulder was dodgy to say the least.
Passing a wind farm on the shores of Lago Granada, aptly placed one might add. The wind was so strong, the pole supporting one turbine was bent!!
I slipped through a barrier to take a closer look at one of these futuristic giants. Having not had the opportunity, the first word that comes to mind is indeed huge.
Stopping at a pulperia at La Virgen, the woman there, a most helpful person engaged in conversation with me for half an hour in espanol, all the while I was increasing my vocab, she was happy to answer my ¿cómo se dice? reply when needed. She informed me that there was a place down the road on the lake, arriving there, the asking price of $50 saw me head further south.
I was fairly wasted at this point, it was 1430hrs, I needed somewhere to stop.
Cramps in my legs were beginning to become a problem, stopping further up the road, I nearly fell over trying to keep the bike upright. Shit I really was in poor shape, in the USA this problem did not occur even once.
Heading on a bit further, the Las Joyas resort came into view on the lake side. The owner was at the gate. Five dollars for a tent site, incidently behind the beach front unit block. This wind was howling in off the lake.
The twins volcanoes of Ometepe Island could be seen, infact they were in good view for the greater part of the jouneys end.
I went for a swim in the lake to wash the days dust off. Had a shower and pitched the tent, frisbeed a few emails, cooked some dirty rice and was in the nest by 1930hrs. To say I was trashed, was an understatement.
Having said that my last night in Nicaragua could not have been spent in a better location. That on the shores of Lake Nicaragua, a majestic body of water that is synominous with Nicaragua.
Thinking about Granada enroute, there a few things that will always remind me of this city.
· The relentless flow of grey water in the gutters
· Horse shit on the roads
· People in rocking chairs on the streets at dusk
· The cooling breeze coming up Calle Santa Lucia off the lake
· Having a laugh around the table at the house
The huge resource of the volunteers Español being availabe
· $1.10 beers and 50c cokes
· Pollo, gallo pinto,Platanos, arroz and of course piñas and water melon
· The sweetest ever bananas
· The friendless of all people encountered
· The readiness to move on when “no gracias” is said to a street seller when having a drink in the bar strip.
· Riding down streets the wrong way, and no one too bothered about it.
Daniel is a legend in these parts. "with everyone for the good of everyone". He gave people in the pueblos 8 sheets of roofing iron per family pre election. What a good idea, having been here awhile, its a better handout than at home where, they raise the pension and then introduce some dodgy new tax, or put your house rates up!!
first night back on the road
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the twin volcanoes of Ometepe Island
Big!!
It blew all night without abatement. Feb and March are the windy months here.
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La Joya Resort, Nic) to Liberia (CR)
D 88 T 5.5hrs Av 15.89 Total 188k
Dangerous cross wind from the east 50k/hr from the east, o/cast to clear
Its been awhile since sleep came so suddenly and at 1930hrs.
Arising at 0600, the wind was full on .
Eight kilometres down the road was the border. It was an easy passage that consumed minimal time and cost me $1 US to enter Costa Rica.
Trucks were lined up for a few k either side of the border, one driver told me he had come from Guatemala in the north and this wait would take at least 3 hours.
The hills started appearing as soon as I left the border post, passing through heavy forest during one ascent, monkeys were seen and the sound of howler monkeys deeper into the trees could be heard.
Of all the land animals their call is the loudest. It was an enjoyable time though hilly, there was no bloody wind.
For breakfast I had a coffee and that was it, so by now iwas getting a tad peckish. A readily availabe mint gel was eaten, it did the trick.
Missing were the roadside stalls so common in Nicaragua
As the hilly terrain started to gentle undulate, the wind arrived, this time with a vengeance.
CR roads are so different from Nics. They are loaded with semis and have a shoulder no wider than 20 inches that is 2 inches lower than the road. This lip is almost vertical.
I had a couple of close encounters prior to La Cruz, once nearly loosing it down a bank off the shoulder and the second time nearly being sucked into a truck.
Many drivers here are not as courteous as those in the US, a wave was always given to those that gave me a wide berth. Though i do appreciate the Pan Am in many places gives little room to anyone using it.
At La Cruz a great meal was consumed .An Americano mujer told me that she bought a property here in CR thirty years ago. She was here to get a solicitor to remove a squatter from her property.
She initially torched his wooden home, low and behold the person built a brick dwelling. He too has employed a solicitor and preparing false papers. She told me that after all this she found there are people who specialize in moving squatters on, no paper work is involved. Wishing her the best we parted.
The wind was atrocious. Reading a paper in the restaurant, it was reported a 28m construction crane was blown over yesterday.
Five kilometers down the road, grief came my way, also caused by wind. Riding along a huge gust forced me onto the shoullder, threatening to push me into the scrub. Correcting my steerage, the front wheel did not hit the earlier mentioned lip up onto the road at a wide enough angle. Over I went into half the lane with the bike, the port front pannier broke free.
Bloody hell it happened so quick, luck was with me in that a car was following not a semi. The people stopped while I gathered myself. Completely oblivious to a decent bit of bark having been removed from my left knee and elbow, not mention lesser wounds on my foot and right thumb.
Kindly traffic was held up while the pannier was hooked on and the bike was straddled in a less than coordinated fashion.
They asked if I was ok. Thanking them, it was me and the bloody wind once again, it shook me a tad, but little did it dampen my spirits.
Every time a semi went past now pedalling was ceased and all attention was payed to keeping a straight line. The wind direction would change 3 times during each encounter.
From the drama to Liberia was 44k, what do you do? Keep the adrenalin flowing and put k’s behind the back wheel.
Stopping twice for a drink, coke $2 a bottle anyway, sugar was needed. Once off the bike walking was difficult due to bruising around the knee laceration.
The thread on my handle bar tilt is stripped, hopefully I can get this tapped to a bigger size in the morning. It moves all day and makes an annoying noise, a kind of noise that spoils the silence of the passage. The cogs that guide the chain during its circular passage make no noise what so ever. It’s great.
That the bike is so heavy also contributes to the ability to enjoy the sounds of nature. Often catching animals unaware, a bird of prey was totally unaware of my presence till the last moment.
As I write this, in the motel room at Liberia it is still as sore as shit. I checked in to “lick my wounds” so to speak.
This town is just like any in the US, you know all the fast food chains, cars everywhere, supermarkets as at home. Every second person is a gringo, if people can’t understand your Spanish many just start talking in English. This is typical in many parts of Costa Rica.
Not a good place to learn Spanish
Prices in the supermarket were as at home, maybe more, a medium size Nescafe jar 100g was just over $5, (2,503 colones)
$1 =509 colones, so to pay 3 or 4 thousand for items, though it sounds alot it is not, after being in Nic with 23 units to the dollar it is a change.
.
D 88 T 5.5hrs Av 15.89 Total 188k
Dangerous cross wind from the east 50k/hr from the east, o/cast to clear
Its been awhile since sleep came so suddenly and at 1930hrs.
Arising at 0600, the wind was full on .
Eight kilometres down the road was the border. It was an easy passage that consumed minimal time and cost me $1 US to enter Costa Rica.
Trucks were lined up for a few k either side of the border, one driver told me he had come from Guatemala in the north and this wait would take at least 3 hours.
The hills started appearing as soon as I left the border post, passing through heavy forest during one ascent, monkeys were seen and the sound of howler monkeys deeper into the trees could be heard.
Of all the land animals their call is the loudest. It was an enjoyable time though hilly, there was no bloody wind.
For breakfast I had a coffee and that was it, so by now iwas getting a tad peckish. A readily availabe mint gel was eaten, it did the trick.
Missing were the roadside stalls so common in Nicaragua
As the hilly terrain started to gentle undulate, the wind arrived, this time with a vengeance.
CR roads are so different from Nics. They are loaded with semis and have a shoulder no wider than 20 inches that is 2 inches lower than the road. This lip is almost vertical.
I had a couple of close encounters prior to La Cruz, once nearly loosing it down a bank off the shoulder and the second time nearly being sucked into a truck.
Many drivers here are not as courteous as those in the US, a wave was always given to those that gave me a wide berth. Though i do appreciate the Pan Am in many places gives little room to anyone using it.
At La Cruz a great meal was consumed .An Americano mujer told me that she bought a property here in CR thirty years ago. She was here to get a solicitor to remove a squatter from her property.
She initially torched his wooden home, low and behold the person built a brick dwelling. He too has employed a solicitor and preparing false papers. She told me that after all this she found there are people who specialize in moving squatters on, no paper work is involved. Wishing her the best we parted.
The wind was atrocious. Reading a paper in the restaurant, it was reported a 28m construction crane was blown over yesterday.
Five kilometers down the road, grief came my way, also caused by wind. Riding along a huge gust forced me onto the shoullder, threatening to push me into the scrub. Correcting my steerage, the front wheel did not hit the earlier mentioned lip up onto the road at a wide enough angle. Over I went into half the lane with the bike, the port front pannier broke free.
Bloody hell it happened so quick, luck was with me in that a car was following not a semi. The people stopped while I gathered myself. Completely oblivious to a decent bit of bark having been removed from my left knee and elbow, not mention lesser wounds on my foot and right thumb.
Kindly traffic was held up while the pannier was hooked on and the bike was straddled in a less than coordinated fashion.
They asked if I was ok. Thanking them, it was me and the bloody wind once again, it shook me a tad, but little did it dampen my spirits.
Every time a semi went past now pedalling was ceased and all attention was payed to keeping a straight line. The wind direction would change 3 times during each encounter.
From the drama to Liberia was 44k, what do you do? Keep the adrenalin flowing and put k’s behind the back wheel.
Stopping twice for a drink, coke $2 a bottle anyway, sugar was needed. Once off the bike walking was difficult due to bruising around the knee laceration.
The thread on my handle bar tilt is stripped, hopefully I can get this tapped to a bigger size in the morning. It moves all day and makes an annoying noise, a kind of noise that spoils the silence of the passage. The cogs that guide the chain during its circular passage make no noise what so ever. It’s great.
That the bike is so heavy also contributes to the ability to enjoy the sounds of nature. Often catching animals unaware, a bird of prey was totally unaware of my presence till the last moment.
As I write this, in the motel room at Liberia it is still as sore as shit. I checked in to “lick my wounds” so to speak.
This town is just like any in the US, you know all the fast food chains, cars everywhere, supermarkets as at home. Every second person is a gringo, if people can’t understand your Spanish many just start talking in English. This is typical in many parts of Costa Rica.
Not a good place to learn Spanish
Prices in the supermarket were as at home, maybe more, a medium size Nescafe jar 100g was just over $5, (2,503 colones)
$1 =509 colones, so to pay 3 or 4 thousand for items, though it sounds alot it is not, after being in Nic with 23 units to the dollar it is a change.
.
Lago Nicaragua
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Combined with overnight rain, leaving the shoulder to get back on the road was treacherous
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29/02/2012 Liberia CR
No k’s still windy
After a restless night due to aching, able to only be subdued with a liberal dose of paracetamol, a few hours sleep were achieved. I arose upon a white sheet that looked like a kid with a red crayon had been drawing on it
Having every intention of heading to the coast at Playa Panama, I headed into town to get the handlebars on the bike repaired, they wont stay firm. The guy here in the motel directed me to an engineering shop, whos owner kindly retapped the thread for a larger screw.
I had a basic breakfast in town, back here the carrier for the bar bag was tightened.
My leg and elbow were still sore and the wind was still blowing from the east. nothing much had changed in the last 12 hours.
Negotiating a discount for the second night, the decision was made to stay and rest. A good move, the wind was thanked for something.
Stopping to talk to an Argentinian guy and his Mexican girlfriend who were cycling north. They were artisaners, she was doing her thing at the traffic lights to collect money to help them move on. It was a shoe string affair, with the guys rear panniers made from 20 litre plastic drums. Good on them. They had been on the road for a year. They were heading towards Granada. I told him many jugglers and other entertainers hung there. We wished each other all the best prior to my hobbling back to the motel.
The rest of the day involved a good kip, watching the tele and studying Spanish, with the reception guy, who between movies and helping me, had five eigths of nothing to do.
A fairly productive day in some respects.
The aching still persists, my knee is swollen, knowing only time will be the deliverer of recovery from this unfortunate event.
A graze was had at the local supermarket food section.
Having cooked vegetables and chicken, eating outside it was near impossible to deliver salt onto the chicken due to the wind. The table beyond my plate looked like it had been in a light snow storm.
No k’s still windy
After a restless night due to aching, able to only be subdued with a liberal dose of paracetamol, a few hours sleep were achieved. I arose upon a white sheet that looked like a kid with a red crayon had been drawing on it
Having every intention of heading to the coast at Playa Panama, I headed into town to get the handlebars on the bike repaired, they wont stay firm. The guy here in the motel directed me to an engineering shop, whos owner kindly retapped the thread for a larger screw.
I had a basic breakfast in town, back here the carrier for the bar bag was tightened.
My leg and elbow were still sore and the wind was still blowing from the east. nothing much had changed in the last 12 hours.
Negotiating a discount for the second night, the decision was made to stay and rest. A good move, the wind was thanked for something.
Stopping to talk to an Argentinian guy and his Mexican girlfriend who were cycling north. They were artisaners, she was doing her thing at the traffic lights to collect money to help them move on. It was a shoe string affair, with the guys rear panniers made from 20 litre plastic drums. Good on them. They had been on the road for a year. They were heading towards Granada. I told him many jugglers and other entertainers hung there. We wished each other all the best prior to my hobbling back to the motel.
The rest of the day involved a good kip, watching the tele and studying Spanish, with the reception guy, who between movies and helping me, had five eigths of nothing to do.
A fairly productive day in some respects.
The aching still persists, my knee is swollen, knowing only time will be the deliverer of recovery from this unfortunate event.
A graze was had at the local supermarket food section.
Having cooked vegetables and chicken, eating outside it was near impossible to deliver salt onto the chicken due to the wind. The table beyond my plate looked like it had been in a light snow storm.
This could be anywhere in OZ or the US. The Pan Am looking south
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Huge mango trees lined many downtown streets. Very hazardous at this time of year. See them lying on the road.
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Mi luna ha visto tanto que cuando le canto su
plata me acuna como a los santos y los prisioneros, los amantes los locos errantes y los pordioseros que amamantamos tu luz. Cuando no hay amigos, pan ni dinero solo la poesía que flota en el aire sincero y en las bancas solas que hay en los parques que mueren de frío esperando amores Ay mi luna llena, escucha la pena cuando un hombre canta al amor que espera Ay mi luna llena, escucha la pena cuando un hombre canta al amor que quiere Ay mi luna llena, escucha la pena cuando un hombre canta al amor que muere Ay mi luna llena. |
My moon has seen so much that when I sing their
silver cradles me as the saints and prisoners, lovers and madmen wandering beggars who nursed your light. When no friends, no money only bread poetry in the air sincere and the seats alone there in the parks freezing to death waiting for love Oh my full moon, listening to the sentence when a man sings of love waiting Oh my full moon worth listening to when a man sings of love Oh you want my full moon, listening to the penalty when a man sings about love dying Oh my full moon. |
1/3/2012 Liberia to Caldera
137k, 8.23hrs, av 16.23 Total 8262
36 deg c, strong easterlies, dry
It was still pre dawn upon withdrawal from the nest. A coffee was enjoyed and the gear packed.
The front tyre was deflated to allow it to hug any lips in the shoulder should another narrow angled reentry be required today.
An annoying but not painful stiffness would best describe feelings associated with my leg and elbow.
On the road at 0600, good ground was being made. The wind was building as the day was maturing. Some couple of hours into the trip a melon was enjoyed roadside, and a chat for that matter.
The wind had developed with a vengeance prior to arriving in Cañas. Stopping there it threatened to blow the bike from between my legs at one point.
From here another roadside stall provided me with a Piña, fluid was needed in any form.
A few kilometers from here some enjoyable riding was had, no wind, though trucks were still present, their passage was not such a problem.
Further south at San Marcos an hour was spent yakking with the girl in the pulperia, no amount of convincing would allow me to put my 3 milks and two waters in her credit book like most of her other customers, she was fun.
When the wind was blowing, believe me it was like riding a tight rope, there was no room for error.
It was to get worse.
South of San Marcos the road was hilly and traversed cuttings.
On so many ocassions coming down the road was a semi passing someone straight at me, shit I just stopped immediately, cars were doing similar manouvres.
I was blown of the road many times and in the end just walked up these cuttings.
Just trying to stay alive was an issue, today traffic was so heavy,an incident like the other day could have been a more serious problem.
One needed a good reason to be here, that I had.
I know I am not Robinson Crusoe when it comes to riding through CR, but if you are planning to, remember February and March are the windy months and try to find alternative routes other than the Pan Am to get to your destination.
For me it was probably the most potentially dangerous day ever experienced. Daring not to think to much about the whole deal.
Without the wind it would have been, just bearable.
Costa Rica now appears to be a country of many people who spend time consuming goods, those goods generally are moved around by road, it may well get worse. This highway needs duplicating.
I left the nightmare at Barrena and took 23 to Caldera.
Can you believe it, the last 6k were on a dedicated bike track.
It was sheer pleasure, being the first opportunity to relax whilst riding for three days.
Here in Caldera, the hosts at Cabinas Caldera are great, giving me a discount, then bringing me coffee and fried mango. It is on the bay here, that being Golfo De Nicoya.
137k, 8.23hrs, av 16.23 Total 8262
36 deg c, strong easterlies, dry
It was still pre dawn upon withdrawal from the nest. A coffee was enjoyed and the gear packed.
The front tyre was deflated to allow it to hug any lips in the shoulder should another narrow angled reentry be required today.
An annoying but not painful stiffness would best describe feelings associated with my leg and elbow.
On the road at 0600, good ground was being made. The wind was building as the day was maturing. Some couple of hours into the trip a melon was enjoyed roadside, and a chat for that matter.
The wind had developed with a vengeance prior to arriving in Cañas. Stopping there it threatened to blow the bike from between my legs at one point.
From here another roadside stall provided me with a Piña, fluid was needed in any form.
A few kilometers from here some enjoyable riding was had, no wind, though trucks were still present, their passage was not such a problem.
Further south at San Marcos an hour was spent yakking with the girl in the pulperia, no amount of convincing would allow me to put my 3 milks and two waters in her credit book like most of her other customers, she was fun.
When the wind was blowing, believe me it was like riding a tight rope, there was no room for error.
It was to get worse.
South of San Marcos the road was hilly and traversed cuttings.
On so many ocassions coming down the road was a semi passing someone straight at me, shit I just stopped immediately, cars were doing similar manouvres.
I was blown of the road many times and in the end just walked up these cuttings.
Just trying to stay alive was an issue, today traffic was so heavy,an incident like the other day could have been a more serious problem.
One needed a good reason to be here, that I had.
I know I am not Robinson Crusoe when it comes to riding through CR, but if you are planning to, remember February and March are the windy months and try to find alternative routes other than the Pan Am to get to your destination.
For me it was probably the most potentially dangerous day ever experienced. Daring not to think to much about the whole deal.
Without the wind it would have been, just bearable.
Costa Rica now appears to be a country of many people who spend time consuming goods, those goods generally are moved around by road, it may well get worse. This highway needs duplicating.
I left the nightmare at Barrena and took 23 to Caldera.
Can you believe it, the last 6k were on a dedicated bike track.
It was sheer pleasure, being the first opportunity to relax whilst riding for three days.
Here in Caldera, the hosts at Cabinas Caldera are great, giving me a discount, then bringing me coffee and fried mango. It is on the bay here, that being Golfo De Nicoya.
A couple of Howler Monkeys right on the roadside
Walking up these sections was the safest passage, once off the shoulder definite dramas would follow
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The dry season has rendered the adjacent scenery fairly ordinary, many fires were or had been burning, the atmosphere was hazy.
Riding on this made me realize just how dangerous the highway was
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2/3/2011 Caldera to Playa Herradura
D 55, 3.5hrs, Av 14.92 T,8319
Fine 35℃ moderate breeze
With a good nights sleep behind me. A couple of cups of coffee were made and departure was about 0800hrs
Stopping for a melon (sandía) just out of town the guy was proud to show me the container he lived in, believe me he had a good set up.
A tiny little food place about 2 miles further out of town was visited, it was just a shed, but served truck drivers. A dish of gallo pinto, arroz pollo y chorizo con jugo was enjoyed over a good yarn with the owner in Español. The food was so good.
My vocab is increasing daily through necessity, much to my delight.
The regular use of verbs is however a much slower process, it is going to require some study. However being in possession of “The Red Pocketbook of Spanish Verbs” will make life easier, thanks Dave.
The day was different, in that the wind was not blowing as hard. The idea was to take 23 and turn right onto 34 and head for the coast and a good swim or two to sort out my cuts and bruises.
The days are at present, putting the wind aside are exact copies of one another. The humidity is not to the same extent as that of the Rio Mississippii but the heat is relentless. From about 1130 till 1600 it is so hot, at least 35 degrees. The apparent wind created while riding ia a saviour.
Coming upon the bridge that crossed the Rio Tárcoles, a fairly substantial structure with a concrete footpath on both sides. People were all over the bridge. Pulling up to see what was the attraction.
The sight behold was quite amazing, here were these huge crocodiles, at least 40 of them, doing little more than laying on the river side half submerged up and down stream of the bridge. Ocassionally one would sidle backwards into the river and just float downstream. Another would, with an ever so subtle taail move take its place after a lazy drift down the river. Evidently they get fed here ocassionally.
These were huge animals, it was frightening to think of how powerful and destructive they could be when offered live food, none of which would likely survive. I stopped for sometime, safely mesmerised by these infamous creatures.
Further down the road the trees were laden with Bromeliads, this was Costa Rica as in the brochures, lush green vegetation, bordered in the east by lush ranges.
Many rivers have been crossed in the country, all seemingly clean with a good flow of water, remembering this is the verano (summer, which is infact the N hemisphere winter), it is the dry season. As this is a more developed country, people here do not have the same reliance on their rivers for household activities as in Nic, hence their clarity.
At the foot of the range between me and Herradura was a restaurant, by now the heat, my lack of condition and sore leg had impacted on progress. Stopping here, a large bottle of water was consumed in a non hurried fashion, all the time yakking with the staff. Imforming me a colina grande was ahead.
Another guy who had pulled up in an air conditioned car was telling me how rich someone could become if they could produce and sell this kind of day, I’d have giving that guy anything for a 20 degree edition..
Setting off, the heat had intensified.Riding the steady climb for about 1 kilometer, it got beyond me. Dismounting to wipe prolific sweat from my face, salt in the eyes is an issue, getting back up was no longer an option.
For 4 kilometers the bike was pushed up the incline, when would it end, the distance between breaks was little more than 150 m. That bottle of water was long gone in the first couple of kilometers. I'm now used to drinking hot water. Had there been a shadey flat spot off the road, there was no doubt my presence there would have been for the night.
Reaching the top and always knowing a reward awaits one at the crest, I again mounted and let her flow, for four kilometers amongst traffic at about 55k/hr, this was my reward, it was gladly cherished,not a pedal moved.
Arriving in Herradura and heading straight to the playa, checking the accommadation out. I then enjoyed a swim in very warm sea water, it was so good. They bay was dotted with all manner of craft.
A guy in a restaurant said I could camp in his carpark, reciprocating his gesture I said I would eat there.
Doing a bit of computer work next door in another restaurant which had wifi, upon completing it, I went back to the first place.
Yakking with a couple of locals who shouted me some beers, one of the guys Ruman, offered to have me at his place.
This offer was so kind and so timely. I had had visions of borrachos (drunks) prowling around camp allnight. After dinner I met Ruman as arranged near his house.
I had eaten at the restaurant out of respect to the owner who had offered a place to camp.
Ruman and I chatted, he had to be at work at the Marriot at 0430 in the morning, that suited me .
I can remember climbing on my bed, then it was 0430.
D 55, 3.5hrs, Av 14.92 T,8319
Fine 35℃ moderate breeze
With a good nights sleep behind me. A couple of cups of coffee were made and departure was about 0800hrs
Stopping for a melon (sandía) just out of town the guy was proud to show me the container he lived in, believe me he had a good set up.
A tiny little food place about 2 miles further out of town was visited, it was just a shed, but served truck drivers. A dish of gallo pinto, arroz pollo y chorizo con jugo was enjoyed over a good yarn with the owner in Español. The food was so good.
My vocab is increasing daily through necessity, much to my delight.
The regular use of verbs is however a much slower process, it is going to require some study. However being in possession of “The Red Pocketbook of Spanish Verbs” will make life easier, thanks Dave.
The day was different, in that the wind was not blowing as hard. The idea was to take 23 and turn right onto 34 and head for the coast and a good swim or two to sort out my cuts and bruises.
The days are at present, putting the wind aside are exact copies of one another. The humidity is not to the same extent as that of the Rio Mississippii but the heat is relentless. From about 1130 till 1600 it is so hot, at least 35 degrees. The apparent wind created while riding ia a saviour.
Coming upon the bridge that crossed the Rio Tárcoles, a fairly substantial structure with a concrete footpath on both sides. People were all over the bridge. Pulling up to see what was the attraction.
The sight behold was quite amazing, here were these huge crocodiles, at least 40 of them, doing little more than laying on the river side half submerged up and down stream of the bridge. Ocassionally one would sidle backwards into the river and just float downstream. Another would, with an ever so subtle taail move take its place after a lazy drift down the river. Evidently they get fed here ocassionally.
These were huge animals, it was frightening to think of how powerful and destructive they could be when offered live food, none of which would likely survive. I stopped for sometime, safely mesmerised by these infamous creatures.
Further down the road the trees were laden with Bromeliads, this was Costa Rica as in the brochures, lush green vegetation, bordered in the east by lush ranges.
Many rivers have been crossed in the country, all seemingly clean with a good flow of water, remembering this is the verano (summer, which is infact the N hemisphere winter), it is the dry season. As this is a more developed country, people here do not have the same reliance on their rivers for household activities as in Nic, hence their clarity.
At the foot of the range between me and Herradura was a restaurant, by now the heat, my lack of condition and sore leg had impacted on progress. Stopping here, a large bottle of water was consumed in a non hurried fashion, all the time yakking with the staff. Imforming me a colina grande was ahead.
Another guy who had pulled up in an air conditioned car was telling me how rich someone could become if they could produce and sell this kind of day, I’d have giving that guy anything for a 20 degree edition..
Setting off, the heat had intensified.Riding the steady climb for about 1 kilometer, it got beyond me. Dismounting to wipe prolific sweat from my face, salt in the eyes is an issue, getting back up was no longer an option.
For 4 kilometers the bike was pushed up the incline, when would it end, the distance between breaks was little more than 150 m. That bottle of water was long gone in the first couple of kilometers. I'm now used to drinking hot water. Had there been a shadey flat spot off the road, there was no doubt my presence there would have been for the night.
Reaching the top and always knowing a reward awaits one at the crest, I again mounted and let her flow, for four kilometers amongst traffic at about 55k/hr, this was my reward, it was gladly cherished,not a pedal moved.
Arriving in Herradura and heading straight to the playa, checking the accommadation out. I then enjoyed a swim in very warm sea water, it was so good. They bay was dotted with all manner of craft.
A guy in a restaurant said I could camp in his carpark, reciprocating his gesture I said I would eat there.
Doing a bit of computer work next door in another restaurant which had wifi, upon completing it, I went back to the first place.
Yakking with a couple of locals who shouted me some beers, one of the guys Ruman, offered to have me at his place.
This offer was so kind and so timely. I had had visions of borrachos (drunks) prowling around camp allnight. After dinner I met Ruman as arranged near his house.
I had eaten at the restaurant out of respect to the owner who had offered a place to camp.
Ruman and I chatted, he had to be at work at the Marriot at 0430 in the morning, that suited me .
I can remember climbing on my bed, then it was 0430.
Caldera looking south, across the road from the Cabinas Caldera
Like flies on a dead sheep, the other side of the bridge was also littered with these creatures. Their light coloured backs was dry mud.
The river is 111 km long and its watershed covers an area of 2,121 km², which encompasses around 50% of the country's population. it is quite polluted due to sewerage and industrial waste
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The jicaro tree, the fruit not edible was hollowed out and used fro water vessels in earlier days
A testomony to those who never really had the money. The enterance to a subdivision, and little else
Bromels everywhere in the trees, fascinating to say the least
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3/3/2012
Herradura to Quepos
D78, T 4, Av19.05 T8397 total hours 458
A classic day near the coast.
Waking when Rumans alarms went off. We bade farewell, he said lock up. Following his departure, the next thing I knew it was 0730 hrs.
Just in the last couple of days I have been feeling every bit 55, once fit and conditioned again one would like to think this feeling would be more akin with 40 years. Having an aching leg and elbow was always going to keep the number high, oh well!!
A large brekky was had in town. Knowing todays ride was plano (flat) and that the wind was not an issue, it wouldn’t impact on me so much, riding in the heat.
A lot of road bike guys were out and about, the riding conditions were good, so was the road and the traffic.
No sooner than departing Herradura, the coastal views offered were spectacular. This country was aptly named The Rich Coast.
There were great surfing spots amongst rocky headlands, while in between were palm clad beaches.
Further on, large areas, both sides of the road were planted in palms for oil production. Mono culture in an extreme form, considering the rich vegetation they have replaced. A large factory for the oil production was ridden past.
Creeks ever so clear and inviting were crossed, thinking about a swim was quickly followed by thoughts about those crocs. The sum of the two saw me ride on.
In a new roadside open restaurant the girl told me that the rustic timber furniture was made from mango trees. They get so huge here, some of the table tops within, were one piece slabs over a metre wide.
Mike and Maggie friends at Santa Lucia have set up a blog documenting their experiences as they travel and volunteer in Central and South America. They can give you a great insight into La Esperanzas involvement with the schools, than I can.
Check it out at: http://volunteertravellatinamerica.blogspot.com/
From here the road was a tidy plano, recto (straight) affair all the way to the turn off to Quepas.
Arriving there and asking the whereabouts of cheap lodgings, a great place was was found for $10/night. This has the potential to see me rest up here tomorrow.
Sunset was enjoyed on the elevated walkway west of the main street over looking the river and the Pacific Ocean. A marina and navigable river were present together they provided a memorable vista.
The town had an ever so relaxed feel about it. The presence of North Americans was evident but not overwelming. As with any town frequented by tourists, shops selling all manner of useless items, in my mind anyway, preliforated.
On this ocassion, having only a pushbike as transport, entering such premises was pointless, a glance in the display window adequately portrayed the interior.
Herradura to Quepos
D78, T 4, Av19.05 T8397 total hours 458
A classic day near the coast.
Waking when Rumans alarms went off. We bade farewell, he said lock up. Following his departure, the next thing I knew it was 0730 hrs.
Just in the last couple of days I have been feeling every bit 55, once fit and conditioned again one would like to think this feeling would be more akin with 40 years. Having an aching leg and elbow was always going to keep the number high, oh well!!
A large brekky was had in town. Knowing todays ride was plano (flat) and that the wind was not an issue, it wouldn’t impact on me so much, riding in the heat.
A lot of road bike guys were out and about, the riding conditions were good, so was the road and the traffic.
No sooner than departing Herradura, the coastal views offered were spectacular. This country was aptly named The Rich Coast.
There were great surfing spots amongst rocky headlands, while in between were palm clad beaches.
Further on, large areas, both sides of the road were planted in palms for oil production. Mono culture in an extreme form, considering the rich vegetation they have replaced. A large factory for the oil production was ridden past.
Creeks ever so clear and inviting were crossed, thinking about a swim was quickly followed by thoughts about those crocs. The sum of the two saw me ride on.
In a new roadside open restaurant the girl told me that the rustic timber furniture was made from mango trees. They get so huge here, some of the table tops within, were one piece slabs over a metre wide.
Mike and Maggie friends at Santa Lucia have set up a blog documenting their experiences as they travel and volunteer in Central and South America. They can give you a great insight into La Esperanzas involvement with the schools, than I can.
Check it out at: http://volunteertravellatinamerica.blogspot.com/
From here the road was a tidy plano, recto (straight) affair all the way to the turn off to Quepas.
Arriving there and asking the whereabouts of cheap lodgings, a great place was was found for $10/night. This has the potential to see me rest up here tomorrow.
Sunset was enjoyed on the elevated walkway west of the main street over looking the river and the Pacific Ocean. A marina and navigable river were present together they provided a memorable vista.
The town had an ever so relaxed feel about it. The presence of North Americans was evident but not overwelming. As with any town frequented by tourists, shops selling all manner of useless items, in my mind anyway, preliforated.
On this ocassion, having only a pushbike as transport, entering such premises was pointless, a glance in the display window adequately portrayed the interior.
Headlands between sandy beaches
El paseo marítimo Quepas en la mañana
Palm plantations for miles north of Parrita.
Palm oil is extracted from the pulp of the fruit of the oil palm, Elaeis guineensis. Palm oil is a common cooking ingredient in the tropical belt of Africa, Southeast Asia and parts of Brazil.
The use of palm oil in food products is often the focus of environmental activist groups, due to it being documented as a cause of substantial and often irreversible damage to the natural environment. ( wikipedia)
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Tables made from Mango trees, and the seats, a strangler fig supporting the apex of the structure, most interesting
El sol se despide de aquí y saludar en Nueva Zelanda y Australia, después de un viaje a través del Océano Pacífico
(The sun says goodbye here and hello in New Zealand and Australia after a journey across the Pacific Ocean)
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4/3/2011 Quepas all day
No k’s
Didn’t care about the weather, but it was fine
Up early and slipping down to the Best Western hotel restuarant on the third floor over looking the bay here in Quepas, having a few coffees and tinkering with the keyboard, it was an idyllic location to be at on a Sunday morning.
From here the supermarket provided breakfast of cheese, salami etc. This was enjoyed back at the guest house.
A bus was then taken to playa Manuel Antonio, the main beach here, it was a 15 minute trip over the coastal hill to the postcard location.
Lined with palm trees, white sand, boats anchored beyond the waves, the beach littered with deck chairs, umbrellas. The sea ever so inviting, was accommodating people out to 50 metres, some on surf boards, others just cooling off, having fun was something they all had in common.
Swimming for half an hour, having all the sun I need, lying on the beach was not an option, the deck chairs were $10/day, almost a necessity.
Walking back to Quepas was enjoyable, sharing most of the passage talking with a Canadian girl who was staying in a hostel on the way back. The walk took about an hour, so much nicer than the bus.
The town has a campo fiesta tonight, horses in the main street and of course music and dancing. A nice way to finish a days break.
An ever so easy relaxed atmosphere would best life here.
No k’s
Didn’t care about the weather, but it was fine
Up early and slipping down to the Best Western hotel restuarant on the third floor over looking the bay here in Quepas, having a few coffees and tinkering with the keyboard, it was an idyllic location to be at on a Sunday morning.
From here the supermarket provided breakfast of cheese, salami etc. This was enjoyed back at the guest house.
A bus was then taken to playa Manuel Antonio, the main beach here, it was a 15 minute trip over the coastal hill to the postcard location.
Lined with palm trees, white sand, boats anchored beyond the waves, the beach littered with deck chairs, umbrellas. The sea ever so inviting, was accommodating people out to 50 metres, some on surf boards, others just cooling off, having fun was something they all had in common.
Swimming for half an hour, having all the sun I need, lying on the beach was not an option, the deck chairs were $10/day, almost a necessity.
Walking back to Quepas was enjoyable, sharing most of the passage talking with a Canadian girl who was staying in a hostel on the way back. The walk took about an hour, so much nicer than the bus.
The town has a campo fiesta tonight, horses in the main street and of course music and dancing. A nice way to finish a days break.
An ever so easy relaxed atmosphere would best life here.
Esposo y esposa equipo! Clásico
Fiesta!!!!!!
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Beautiful animals with such proud owners
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Quepos to Uvita 5/3/2012
D65, T3.37, Av17.79, Total 8461
Fine light winds, overcast conditions kept the temp down.
Away just after 0600hrs, the plan was to go to Dominical, a smaller less touristic orientated townn some 45 k south, any easy ride by any standards with a whole day to complete it.
Again palm plantations were present for the earlier pert of the trip. Workers were seen with huge poles with a saw on the end for pruning the fronds and cutting the seed heads. A day looking up to direct the saw must be so hard, they were obviously used to it.
Breeky was had at Plantillo at a truck stop kind of outdoor affair, this and two coffees were $4.50, about the going rate if you be selective with your eating locations.
Down the road a bit further a small bat was seen on the shoulder, turning around and picking it up, a closer look and a photo followed, one could see a tidy set of fangs in the upper front teeth, you could have fitted it in a match box.
Further on a water melon was enjoyed, so was a good laugh, the lady's stand was near a police checkpoint and one of the cops was over talking with her. I always eat the melons in situ, the venders always have knives, the melons are about $2, so expensive compared to Nic., double the price to be exact.
Anyway the whole time there the cop was getting text messages. The lady and I had a great time stirring him about mujeres on the other end, he was laughing also, all the time replying to the messages, at once getting a reply. He agreed it filled his day in. They were both helpful in giving me information about the area.
Its encounters like these that help make the journey so enjoyable, that the conversation was held in spanish made it so much enjoyable for me. Getting humour across in an unoffensive intelligable fashion and getting the desired response makes remembering words so much easier.
Two other cyclists were seen heading north, it was one of those moments where we acklowedged each other but didnt stop, it was a windy piece of road and we viewed each other so memontarily., never mind.
Arriving at Dominical,and heading down a gravel track towards the beach to see fisherman ferrying their catch in small boats from the fishing vessels anchored behind the waves.
Being introduced to Ricardo the guy that owned a house in here. He said I could camp the night there. Watching the fishermen unload their small boats in the surf and carrying them up the beach in plastic baskets with a large bamboo pole through the handles was typical of people who work with the ocean, they had it so sorted.
The fisherman were a great bunch of people, offering me ice which I Gladly accepted, having asked if it was ok to drink, Si! was the reply. Muchas gracias.
Small trucks were waiting to take the fish to San Jose.
An enjoyable swim was had in some surfable water. There were surf camps all along this coast.
I later decided not to stay there. An old guy said watch out for things going missing. Heading out to the highway a guy was seen coming in with a large crate of beer on his motorbike, it had been a successful night at sea, many fish were caught, they were going to celebrate. A good move maybe?
The coast on the way to Uvita was spectacular with great surf beaches between rocky headlands with many waves being utilized by surfers.
A guy selling Cervicho , ( prawns in a chilled coriander tomato kind of mix), everso good was enjoyed, as was a rest on the beach watching surfers and devouring another melon. Camping here was not an option, it was just one big sand pit.
Deciding to move on, coming to a bridge across a clear creek. Waiting till no cars were about, the track down to the river was followed.
A prime spot beneath the bridgre was choosen because of its coolness.
Having a swim come bath and using the water filter for the first time, slowly setting up a makeshift camp , not using the tent, an interruption in the form of a guy and his son on a motorbike was experienced.
I asked him how safe it was here, he said in the weekend its a bit odgey, judging him as an honest kind of guy I kept to my plan to camp here. Then 2 other guys on horse back cruised down the river. This goes against all my principles with regards to random camping, firstly people knew i was here and secondly they could inform someone. Really I had got here to early. The river was everso clear.
By now it was about 1630, I made the final decision to stay, so far CR had felt safe, it had a good feel about it.
There was only one way to access my humble abode on the creek bank beneath the bridge. A wild lemon was growing nearby, the branches were covered in spines. I cut a few off and layed them across this access.in the hope that if someone were to harass me, they would stand on these and yell. The river contained rapids at my site so hearing everything was impossibel.
Not ever being a person to initiate voilence, if someone does front, I hope the spine in the foot is considered by them as just a hassle of robbing people at night. I hope so .
Its so nice here listening to the creek flow past .
The guy and his son returned before dark with no prawns, asking again if it was safe he said yes, that was enough for me. We will see
D65, T3.37, Av17.79, Total 8461
Fine light winds, overcast conditions kept the temp down.
Away just after 0600hrs, the plan was to go to Dominical, a smaller less touristic orientated townn some 45 k south, any easy ride by any standards with a whole day to complete it.
Again palm plantations were present for the earlier pert of the trip. Workers were seen with huge poles with a saw on the end for pruning the fronds and cutting the seed heads. A day looking up to direct the saw must be so hard, they were obviously used to it.
Breeky was had at Plantillo at a truck stop kind of outdoor affair, this and two coffees were $4.50, about the going rate if you be selective with your eating locations.
Down the road a bit further a small bat was seen on the shoulder, turning around and picking it up, a closer look and a photo followed, one could see a tidy set of fangs in the upper front teeth, you could have fitted it in a match box.
Further on a water melon was enjoyed, so was a good laugh, the lady's stand was near a police checkpoint and one of the cops was over talking with her. I always eat the melons in situ, the venders always have knives, the melons are about $2, so expensive compared to Nic., double the price to be exact.
Anyway the whole time there the cop was getting text messages. The lady and I had a great time stirring him about mujeres on the other end, he was laughing also, all the time replying to the messages, at once getting a reply. He agreed it filled his day in. They were both helpful in giving me information about the area.
Its encounters like these that help make the journey so enjoyable, that the conversation was held in spanish made it so much enjoyable for me. Getting humour across in an unoffensive intelligable fashion and getting the desired response makes remembering words so much easier.
Two other cyclists were seen heading north, it was one of those moments where we acklowedged each other but didnt stop, it was a windy piece of road and we viewed each other so memontarily., never mind.
Arriving at Dominical,and heading down a gravel track towards the beach to see fisherman ferrying their catch in small boats from the fishing vessels anchored behind the waves.
Being introduced to Ricardo the guy that owned a house in here. He said I could camp the night there. Watching the fishermen unload their small boats in the surf and carrying them up the beach in plastic baskets with a large bamboo pole through the handles was typical of people who work with the ocean, they had it so sorted.
The fisherman were a great bunch of people, offering me ice which I Gladly accepted, having asked if it was ok to drink, Si! was the reply. Muchas gracias.
Small trucks were waiting to take the fish to San Jose.
An enjoyable swim was had in some surfable water. There were surf camps all along this coast.
I later decided not to stay there. An old guy said watch out for things going missing. Heading out to the highway a guy was seen coming in with a large crate of beer on his motorbike, it had been a successful night at sea, many fish were caught, they were going to celebrate. A good move maybe?
The coast on the way to Uvita was spectacular with great surf beaches between rocky headlands with many waves being utilized by surfers.
A guy selling Cervicho , ( prawns in a chilled coriander tomato kind of mix), everso good was enjoyed, as was a rest on the beach watching surfers and devouring another melon. Camping here was not an option, it was just one big sand pit.
Deciding to move on, coming to a bridge across a clear creek. Waiting till no cars were about, the track down to the river was followed.
A prime spot beneath the bridgre was choosen because of its coolness.
Having a swim come bath and using the water filter for the first time, slowly setting up a makeshift camp , not using the tent, an interruption in the form of a guy and his son on a motorbike was experienced.
I asked him how safe it was here, he said in the weekend its a bit odgey, judging him as an honest kind of guy I kept to my plan to camp here. Then 2 other guys on horse back cruised down the river. This goes against all my principles with regards to random camping, firstly people knew i was here and secondly they could inform someone. Really I had got here to early. The river was everso clear.
By now it was about 1630, I made the final decision to stay, so far CR had felt safe, it had a good feel about it.
There was only one way to access my humble abode on the creek bank beneath the bridge. A wild lemon was growing nearby, the branches were covered in spines. I cut a few off and layed them across this access.in the hope that if someone were to harass me, they would stand on these and yell. The river contained rapids at my site so hearing everything was impossibel.
Not ever being a person to initiate voilence, if someone does front, I hope the spine in the foot is considered by them as just a hassle of robbing people at night. I hope so .
Its so nice here listening to the creek flow past .
The guy and his son returned before dark with no prawns, asking again if it was safe he said yes, that was enough for me. We will see
Can't help myself with these sunsets
Blood or fruit for dinner, not sure, maybe he was just a well equipped opportunist.
Costa Rican seagulls!
Dominical locale, the bay where the fishers were on the beach
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Oil aplenty for the future, good or bad? Time only will provide this answer.
Fresh fish for San Jose
The nights nest, north of Utiva. Figuring out why the guy parked his rig mid stream beat me.
Classic CR coast line
|
Quepos to Uvita 5/3/2012
D65, T3.37, Av17.79, Total 8461
Fine light winds, overcast conditions kept the temp down.
Away just after 0600hrs, the plan was to go to Dominical, a smaller less tourist orientated town some 45 k south, any easy ride by any standards with a whole day to complete it.
Again palm plantations were present for the earlier part of the trip. Workers were seen with huge poles with a saw on the end for pruning the fronds and cutting the seed heads. A day looking up to direct the saw must be so hard, they were obviously used to it.
Brekky was had at Plantillo at, a truck stop kind of outdoor affair, gallo pinto con huevos and two coffees were $4.50, about the going rate if you are selective with your eating locations.
Down the road a bit further a small bat was seen on the shoulder, turniing around and picking it for a closer look and a photo, one could see a tidy set of fangs in the upper front teeth, you could have fitted it in a match box. Poorer little critter.
Further on a water melon was enjoyed, so was a good laugh, the ladies’ stand was near a police checkpoint and one of the cops was over talking with her. I always eat the melons in situ, the venders always have knives, the melons are about $2, so expensive compared to Nic., double the price to be exact. However they are always superb, they kind of burst when the blade pentrates them.
Anyway the whole time there the cop was getting text messages. The lady and I had a great time stirring him about mujeres on the other end, he was laughing also, all the time replying to the messages, at once getting a reply. He agreed it filled his day in. They were both helpful in giving me information about the area.
Its encounters like these that help make the journey so enjoyable, that the conversation was held in Spanish made it so much enjoyable for me. Getting humour across in an unoffensive intelligable fashion and getting the desired response makes remembering words so much easier.
Two other cyclists were seen heading north, it was one of those moments where we acknowledged each other but didnt stop, it was a windy piece of road and we viewed each other so memontarily, never mind.
Arriving at Dominical,and heading down a gravel track towards the beach to see fisherman ferrying their catch in small boats from the fishing vessels anchored behind the waves.
Being introduced to Ricardo the guy that owned a house in here He said I could camp the night there. Watching the fishermen unload the small boats in the surf and carrying them up the beach in plastic baskets with a large bamboo pole through the handles was typical of people who work with the ocean, they had it so sorted.
Small trucks were waiting to take the fish to San Jose.
An enjoyable swim was had in some rideable surf. There were surf camps all along this coast.
I later decided not to stay there. An old guy repairing a net, said watch out for things going missing. Heading out to the highway a guy was seen coming in with a large crate of beer on his motorbike, it had been a successful night at sea, many fish were caught, they were going to celebrate. Good on them. A good move for me, maybe?
The coast on the way to Uvita was spectacular, with great surf beaches between rocky headlands, with many waves being utilized by surfers.
A guy selling Cervicho , ( prawns in a chilled coriander tomato kind of mix), everso good was enjoyed, as was a rest under coconut palms on the beach watching surfers and devouring another melon. Camping here was not an option, it was just one big sand pit.
Deciding to move on, coming to a bridge across a clear creek. Waiting till no cars were about, the track down to the river was followed.
A prime spot beneath the bridge was choosen because of its coolness.
Having a swim come bath and using the water filter for the first time, slowly setting up a makeshift camp, not using the tent, an interruption in the form of a guy and his son on a motorbike was experienced.
I asked him how safe it was here, he said in the weekend its a bit dodgey, judging him as a an honest kind of guy I kept to my plan to camp here. Then 2 other guys on horse back cruised down the river.
This went against all my principles with regards to random camping, firstly people knew I was there and secondly they could inform others. The idea is always arrive at these places late, that way everyone in the area doesn’t know you are there.
By now it was about 1630, I made the final decision to stay, so far CR had felt safe, it had a good feel about it. The people like the Nicas are so friendly.
There was only one way to access my humble abode on the creek bank beneath the bridge. A wild lemon was growing nearby, that had branches covered in spines. I cut a few off and layed them across this access,in the hope that if someone were to harass me they would stand on these and yell alerting me of their presence. The river contained rapids, so hearing everything was impossible.
Not ever being a person to initiate violence, if someone does arrive with dodgey intentions. I hope the spine in the foot is considered by them as just a hassle of robbing people at night. That had better be the bloody case. .
Its so nice here listening to the creek flowpast .
The guy and his son returned before dark with no prawns, asking again, “if it was safe” he said yes, that was enough for me. We will see.
Sitting down on my three legged camp chair, that does not get used much, though when, it is so appreciated. Sitting there reflecting on life, looking down, a piece of leaf was spotted moving along the sand at the rivers edge, closer investigation revealed an ant was providing its conveyance. Other pieces of leaf were also on the move, most about the size of half a small coin. Leaf Cutters at work.
Following the trail, it lead to the lemon I had cut and put on the ground, these industrious ants were dismantling the leaves on the cuttings, and so soon. Aiding their passage back to their central business district, some debris was cleared in the path. Placing another cutting closer to the CBD, they took no notice and concentrated on the task further afield.
Observations like this and their resultant positive feelings have been special in the last 7 or 8 months. It so nice to “smell the daisies”.
These moments have the power to seriously question my previous life, accumulating many unecessary material items in relation to my needs, in a world that I choose to put aside to challenge my presence.. A world of normality for most people. A world where, banks often determine ones comings and goings, often with treadmill like results. A treadmill that is great to be stepped off at some stage in later life ,if even for a short time, if at all possible, as a sign of respect to ones health and wellbeing. "The future is not ours to see".
Having said this, I am respectful that not all people are in a position to get off, or are on it by choice. The former should never ever let go of their dreams.
As experienced here in Central America many of those on this treadmill have often exhibited a richness of love and willingness to share what little they have.
At times stirring my own emotions.
The sound of the creek was so relaxing, as was the coffee in hand as the light was disapearing in the western sky. It was a solid concrete bridge, the sound of overhead traffic was insignificant.
Sitting about and tapping a few keys, The nest was cautiously entered about 2030hrs. No one was about. I feel asleep immediately, the sound of a river over rocks is a sound that never fails to induce me to sleep.
Anyway awaking at 0100hrs, a load of packaging was near the rivers edge, shit someone had been so close to my camp at some stage. Getting up the scene was scanned,no one about.
That behind me, the rest of the night was spent with one eye open so to speak. Those first 4 hours were adequate anyway. I wasn’t scared for lack of a better word, but had prepared contigency plans, the first of which was to say “would you like a coffee” to any univited guests. I could only muster up 2 cups so their numbers had to be kept low in order to make the offer valid. Earlier my travel card had been hidden else where.
Daylight bought with it, the need to pack and move on, this activity saw the events of the night put into my memory banks, though otherwise immediately forgotten.
D65, T3.37, Av17.79, Total 8461
Fine light winds, overcast conditions kept the temp down.
Away just after 0600hrs, the plan was to go to Dominical, a smaller less tourist orientated town some 45 k south, any easy ride by any standards with a whole day to complete it.
Again palm plantations were present for the earlier part of the trip. Workers were seen with huge poles with a saw on the end for pruning the fronds and cutting the seed heads. A day looking up to direct the saw must be so hard, they were obviously used to it.
Brekky was had at Plantillo at, a truck stop kind of outdoor affair, gallo pinto con huevos and two coffees were $4.50, about the going rate if you are selective with your eating locations.
Down the road a bit further a small bat was seen on the shoulder, turniing around and picking it for a closer look and a photo, one could see a tidy set of fangs in the upper front teeth, you could have fitted it in a match box. Poorer little critter.
Further on a water melon was enjoyed, so was a good laugh, the ladies’ stand was near a police checkpoint and one of the cops was over talking with her. I always eat the melons in situ, the venders always have knives, the melons are about $2, so expensive compared to Nic., double the price to be exact. However they are always superb, they kind of burst when the blade pentrates them.
Anyway the whole time there the cop was getting text messages. The lady and I had a great time stirring him about mujeres on the other end, he was laughing also, all the time replying to the messages, at once getting a reply. He agreed it filled his day in. They were both helpful in giving me information about the area.
Its encounters like these that help make the journey so enjoyable, that the conversation was held in Spanish made it so much enjoyable for me. Getting humour across in an unoffensive intelligable fashion and getting the desired response makes remembering words so much easier.
Two other cyclists were seen heading north, it was one of those moments where we acknowledged each other but didnt stop, it was a windy piece of road and we viewed each other so memontarily, never mind.
Arriving at Dominical,and heading down a gravel track towards the beach to see fisherman ferrying their catch in small boats from the fishing vessels anchored behind the waves.
Being introduced to Ricardo the guy that owned a house in here He said I could camp the night there. Watching the fishermen unload the small boats in the surf and carrying them up the beach in plastic baskets with a large bamboo pole through the handles was typical of people who work with the ocean, they had it so sorted.
Small trucks were waiting to take the fish to San Jose.
An enjoyable swim was had in some rideable surf. There were surf camps all along this coast.
I later decided not to stay there. An old guy repairing a net, said watch out for things going missing. Heading out to the highway a guy was seen coming in with a large crate of beer on his motorbike, it had been a successful night at sea, many fish were caught, they were going to celebrate. Good on them. A good move for me, maybe?
The coast on the way to Uvita was spectacular, with great surf beaches between rocky headlands, with many waves being utilized by surfers.
A guy selling Cervicho , ( prawns in a chilled coriander tomato kind of mix), everso good was enjoyed, as was a rest under coconut palms on the beach watching surfers and devouring another melon. Camping here was not an option, it was just one big sand pit.
Deciding to move on, coming to a bridge across a clear creek. Waiting till no cars were about, the track down to the river was followed.
A prime spot beneath the bridge was choosen because of its coolness.
Having a swim come bath and using the water filter for the first time, slowly setting up a makeshift camp, not using the tent, an interruption in the form of a guy and his son on a motorbike was experienced.
I asked him how safe it was here, he said in the weekend its a bit dodgey, judging him as a an honest kind of guy I kept to my plan to camp here. Then 2 other guys on horse back cruised down the river.
This went against all my principles with regards to random camping, firstly people knew I was there and secondly they could inform others. The idea is always arrive at these places late, that way everyone in the area doesn’t know you are there.
By now it was about 1630, I made the final decision to stay, so far CR had felt safe, it had a good feel about it. The people like the Nicas are so friendly.
There was only one way to access my humble abode on the creek bank beneath the bridge. A wild lemon was growing nearby, that had branches covered in spines. I cut a few off and layed them across this access,in the hope that if someone were to harass me they would stand on these and yell alerting me of their presence. The river contained rapids, so hearing everything was impossible.
Not ever being a person to initiate violence, if someone does arrive with dodgey intentions. I hope the spine in the foot is considered by them as just a hassle of robbing people at night. That had better be the bloody case. .
Its so nice here listening to the creek flowpast .
The guy and his son returned before dark with no prawns, asking again, “if it was safe” he said yes, that was enough for me. We will see.
Sitting down on my three legged camp chair, that does not get used much, though when, it is so appreciated. Sitting there reflecting on life, looking down, a piece of leaf was spotted moving along the sand at the rivers edge, closer investigation revealed an ant was providing its conveyance. Other pieces of leaf were also on the move, most about the size of half a small coin. Leaf Cutters at work.
Following the trail, it lead to the lemon I had cut and put on the ground, these industrious ants were dismantling the leaves on the cuttings, and so soon. Aiding their passage back to their central business district, some debris was cleared in the path. Placing another cutting closer to the CBD, they took no notice and concentrated on the task further afield.
Observations like this and their resultant positive feelings have been special in the last 7 or 8 months. It so nice to “smell the daisies”.
These moments have the power to seriously question my previous life, accumulating many unecessary material items in relation to my needs, in a world that I choose to put aside to challenge my presence.. A world of normality for most people. A world where, banks often determine ones comings and goings, often with treadmill like results. A treadmill that is great to be stepped off at some stage in later life ,if even for a short time, if at all possible, as a sign of respect to ones health and wellbeing. "The future is not ours to see".
Having said this, I am respectful that not all people are in a position to get off, or are on it by choice. The former should never ever let go of their dreams.
As experienced here in Central America many of those on this treadmill have often exhibited a richness of love and willingness to share what little they have.
At times stirring my own emotions.
The sound of the creek was so relaxing, as was the coffee in hand as the light was disapearing in the western sky. It was a solid concrete bridge, the sound of overhead traffic was insignificant.
Sitting about and tapping a few keys, The nest was cautiously entered about 2030hrs. No one was about. I feel asleep immediately, the sound of a river over rocks is a sound that never fails to induce me to sleep.
Anyway awaking at 0100hrs, a load of packaging was near the rivers edge, shit someone had been so close to my camp at some stage. Getting up the scene was scanned,no one about.
That behind me, the rest of the night was spent with one eye open so to speak. Those first 4 hours were adequate anyway. I wasn’t scared for lack of a better word, but had prepared contigency plans, the first of which was to say “would you like a coffee” to any univited guests. I could only muster up 2 cups so their numbers had to be kept low in order to make the offer valid. Earlier my travel card had been hidden else where.
Daylight bought with it, the need to pack and move on, this activity saw the events of the night put into my memory banks, though otherwise immediately forgotten.
6/3/2011 Uvita to Rio Claro
D108, T5.30, Av18.6, T 8575km
Mild, light wind a mid afternoon shower.
During the night the leaf cutters had been busy, the lemon tree branches at the enterance to my camp had been defoliated. They had turned their attention to the branch enroute it to was totally defoliated. So organized and mission like.
The road here today had a few hills but was otherwise no big deal, the first part to Palmar Norte was superb with a good shoulder. Once back on CI2 it became bumpy and with little shoulder. Luckily traffic was light.
An obligatory melon was enjoyed about 1000hrs, having a good chat with the family.The fruit was from his own farm and was superb, He gave me a tree ripened platano, a cooking banana, it was the milk of the mother.
The farmer also gave me a busano from theEspabel tree, a little green fruit like a 2 inch bean it was very nice I might add.
Glimpses of the coast were seen earlier on though the highway soon headed inland at Punta Mala.
This trip through Costa Rica has been one of greetings both recieved and given by almost all people encountered. The people here are ever so friendly, they love it when you are doing your best to speak Spanish.
Lunch and groceries were purchased in Palmar Norte. The internet was accessed to wish Lea happy birthday via email.
From here the road upon heading inland also traversed some of the nicest terrain encountered here to date. Lush rainforest, with every tree and palm trunk accommadating bromeliads and orchids.
It was a pleasure to traverse such a diverse array of flora.
Earlier on a bunch of those CR seagulls as described. They are known as Zopilotes (buzzards) were on the road devouring a freshly killed iguana, it was a frenzy. Though they still had an eye for vehicles.
Arriving in Rio Claro at 1630 hrs, a great price was negotiated on a room in town, the biggest yet and comfortable. The first Chinese graze was enjoyed in months
Rio Claro is 37k from the Panama border.
D108, T5.30, Av18.6, T 8575km
Mild, light wind a mid afternoon shower.
During the night the leaf cutters had been busy, the lemon tree branches at the enterance to my camp had been defoliated. They had turned their attention to the branch enroute it to was totally defoliated. So organized and mission like.
The road here today had a few hills but was otherwise no big deal, the first part to Palmar Norte was superb with a good shoulder. Once back on CI2 it became bumpy and with little shoulder. Luckily traffic was light.
An obligatory melon was enjoyed about 1000hrs, having a good chat with the family.The fruit was from his own farm and was superb, He gave me a tree ripened platano, a cooking banana, it was the milk of the mother.
The farmer also gave me a busano from theEspabel tree, a little green fruit like a 2 inch bean it was very nice I might add.
Glimpses of the coast were seen earlier on though the highway soon headed inland at Punta Mala.
This trip through Costa Rica has been one of greetings both recieved and given by almost all people encountered. The people here are ever so friendly, they love it when you are doing your best to speak Spanish.
Lunch and groceries were purchased in Palmar Norte. The internet was accessed to wish Lea happy birthday via email.
From here the road upon heading inland also traversed some of the nicest terrain encountered here to date. Lush rainforest, with every tree and palm trunk accommadating bromeliads and orchids.
It was a pleasure to traverse such a diverse array of flora.
Earlier on a bunch of those CR seagulls as described. They are known as Zopilotes (buzzards) were on the road devouring a freshly killed iguana, it was a frenzy. Though they still had an eye for vehicles.
Arriving in Rio Claro at 1630 hrs, a great price was negotiated on a room in town, the biggest yet and comfortable. The first Chinese graze was enjoyed in months
Rio Claro is 37k from the Panama border.
What was left of a fully foliated lemon branch in the morning.
The kind of country the last part of journey traversed.
|
They are not big ants by any standard, just hard working and obviously with great night vision, tripping up carrying something this big could cause a bit of grief. Those long legs probably offer stability
Downtown Rio Claro, with accommodation in foreground.
|
Wednesday, 7 March 2012
Passage: Rio Claro to Paso Canoas
Dist: 41, Time: 2.32, Av. Speed: 16.35, Total kms: 8611
Weather: Fine, 30 Wind: light,N, Terrain: Plano con colinas pequenas
Having a great sleep, it was 0800 before my lids parted, a hot day was in the making. Hanging about having decided to ride only to the border town of Paso Canoas and get the paper work done, there was no urgency to depart. This destination was only 37k south.
Emailing a few people saw me finally get away about 1000hrs. Get away that is, to the local fruit stall across the road where just the best piña was enjoyed, the guy running the place was a great person, as usual the purchase was devoured on site.
He gave me a couple of bananas, taking a photo of the fruit as departure took place, whilst informing him a recommendation should anyone be in this southern CR town will be placed on my website. That promise has now been kept.
Stop there, it’s on the left side heading south, just past the supermercado, the fruit is great and well priced.
Heading out of town and realizing the room keys were still in my pocket, again I stopped at the cabinas, the woman was pleased to see me.
It was unusaully warm without the wind blowing. Pulling in at Ciudad Neily a melon was enjoyed in a store with heaps of other people just eating the fruit in situ. So good it was.
Cruising on with no particular haste, stopping only to drink water in some shade. How important trees are crossed my mind when parked under the shade offered by a large Mango.
Arriving in Paso Canaos, formalities were carried out with CR customs, likewise with Panamanian officials both at no cost. A meal was enjoyed.
Finding some accomadationand storing the bike, some meandering around town was done, oddly enough you could just walk through the town each half of which was in the two countries.
The $US is currency here though Colones and the Pamanian coinage, the Balboa are used.
Purchasing a piece of chicken early evening which cost $1.50, a US note was used and some colones. The change was given in Balboa, being no mathematician, I laughed with the lady, and enjoyed the chicken.. Three currencies to swing a deal for a piece of fried chook,classic.
A wander through this huge air conditioned department store called Jerusalem Mall saw me purchase a map of the country. In doing so the owner came over for a yarn. We spoke a bit, he then said would I like a coffee, he got the staff to bring us a brew. He was from Palestine, ah! so thats where the name came from. The coffee was a short black with camomile infused, it was so nice and such a unique flavour. A favorite of his he added.
It was now dark, walking back to the cabins, comfortable and relaxed would best describe my feelings in the streets.
An early night was enjoyed, the motel did not have wifi. Leaving the bike packed, it is hoped for an early start tomorrow, the road into Panama looks to be a freeway.
Passage: Rio Claro to Paso Canoas
Dist: 41, Time: 2.32, Av. Speed: 16.35, Total kms: 8611
Weather: Fine, 30 Wind: light,N, Terrain: Plano con colinas pequenas
Having a great sleep, it was 0800 before my lids parted, a hot day was in the making. Hanging about having decided to ride only to the border town of Paso Canoas and get the paper work done, there was no urgency to depart. This destination was only 37k south.
Emailing a few people saw me finally get away about 1000hrs. Get away that is, to the local fruit stall across the road where just the best piña was enjoyed, the guy running the place was a great person, as usual the purchase was devoured on site.
He gave me a couple of bananas, taking a photo of the fruit as departure took place, whilst informing him a recommendation should anyone be in this southern CR town will be placed on my website. That promise has now been kept.
Stop there, it’s on the left side heading south, just past the supermercado, the fruit is great and well priced.
Heading out of town and realizing the room keys were still in my pocket, again I stopped at the cabinas, the woman was pleased to see me.
It was unusaully warm without the wind blowing. Pulling in at Ciudad Neily a melon was enjoyed in a store with heaps of other people just eating the fruit in situ. So good it was.
Cruising on with no particular haste, stopping only to drink water in some shade. How important trees are crossed my mind when parked under the shade offered by a large Mango.
Arriving in Paso Canaos, formalities were carried out with CR customs, likewise with Panamanian officials both at no cost. A meal was enjoyed.
Finding some accomadationand storing the bike, some meandering around town was done, oddly enough you could just walk through the town each half of which was in the two countries.
The $US is currency here though Colones and the Pamanian coinage, the Balboa are used.
Purchasing a piece of chicken early evening which cost $1.50, a US note was used and some colones. The change was given in Balboa, being no mathematician, I laughed with the lady, and enjoyed the chicken.. Three currencies to swing a deal for a piece of fried chook,classic.
A wander through this huge air conditioned department store called Jerusalem Mall saw me purchase a map of the country. In doing so the owner came over for a yarn. We spoke a bit, he then said would I like a coffee, he got the staff to bring us a brew. He was from Palestine, ah! so thats where the name came from. The coffee was a short black with camomile infused, it was so nice and such a unique flavour. A favorite of his he added.
It was now dark, walking back to the cabins, comfortable and relaxed would best describe my feelings in the streets.
An early night was enjoyed, the motel did not have wifi. Leaving the bike packed, it is hoped for an early start tomorrow, the road into Panama looks to be a freeway.
Just the best Piñas, Rio Claro, a must stop fruit stall.
Three months of beer and Gallo Pinto did this to my stomach!! Not to mention the roadside stall near Santa Lucia with pollo and platano fried, just to convenient, on the way home from the bar. A thousand or so k's should undo what was done.
What $15 a night gets, another $5 and the AC would have been turned on , though a pedestal fan was fine, AC bothers me in that being to cold could invite the flu for a day or two. I was standing in the shower to take this shot.
|
Where that palm oil comes from, in amongst the seeds are spikes. A nasty little combination, though a livelihood for many.
The highway immediately across the border.
|
Thursday, 8 March 2012 odometer start:7938, Day#: 11
Passage : Paso Canoa to 2k nth of Playa Las Lajas turnoff
Dist: 130, Time: 7, Av. Speed: 18.52, Total kms: 8741
Weather: fine 35℃,Wind: light, very strong S at David, Terrain:plano con colinas pequenas
Getting away at the wind of a sparrow, the rear light was fitted to provide drivers better visability with regards to my presence.
The freeway was a pleasure, good shoulder and fairly flat. A melon was enjoyed enroute, this one was a tad dodgey but still edible.
I managed to persuade a guy at a weigh bridge to weigh the set up, bugger it wouldn’t register, so my weight was added, he called back ochenta kilos, it obviously still wasn’t working , never mind. Muchas gracias para todo was my parting comment.
Fifty k down the road David was reached, waiting there was one hell of a head wind, in the vicinity of 40 knots and dangerous. Up ahead was a new fatness factory. Pulling in, it was a relief to be out of the wind. The staff were great we had fun with my spanish, my new word for the visit was batido= milkshake, incidently dos batidos de chocolate grande were enjoyed.
A few emails were posted and the journal updated.
Venturing outside the wind was still howling. The terrain was dry and flat with cloud topped ranges visible to the east. A guy told me that the town of Boquete to the north was a favorite with gringos due to its cool climate.
This trip so far has been a constant enjoyable series of greetings, horns tooting and waving as people say hello. For me it’s buenos, bueno, buen dia, hola, many people here say hello, though in rural areas it is always buenos, buen or bueno. The friendless offered on the road has been so enjoyable.
Pulling over under the shade of a big mango tree and speaking with a guy and his wife about distances I commented on the origin of his wife. She looked like one of the woman of Andean origin, strong facial features and as proud as hell. She was of short stature, also dressed in a colourful dress. Having only seen photos of these woman in Nat Geo, it was a bit of an assumption. Her husband told me they were born here in Panama.
The heat was now building, pulling in to get a drink, 1 litre of milk was drunk, also the same of grape jiuce and a start on 2l of water was made. It is getting costly to keep up the fluids, however these are my fuel there is no other way, chilled drinks are so welcome compared to the hot water generally consumed on the road.
During a gear change, dumping the chain from the big cog to the middle one, it somehow got caught in the front derailleur and jammed, this had to be attended to in a very careful manner any lasting problems here would not be welcomed. Turned out it had twisted it on the seat post tube, so it was realined and all was good. Fine tuning would be done later.
Then the front tyre expelled its air, Not being surprised, as all down the highway are old truck tryes, some burnt, some shredded but all riddled with the wire that gives them their steel belt, this stuff is just hanging out on the shoulder, it’s predatory when it comes to pushbike tyres.
Burning is still a tool used here to control roadside vegetation, much of the roadside had been burnt or was burning, truck tyres in the grass just get burnt.
Patching the tube was done without removing the front wheel, only took about 15 minutes, glueless patches were used, so simple, anyway another 20k only it let go again, shade was found and the ritual reenacted. Not taking anything away from these patches, the problem was one corner of one patch had rolled.
South of San Lorenzo, large Piña farms lined the road, stopping, a photo of a young piña was taken, after all they are bromeliads, it is ineresting to note the many flowers that combined provide us with that fruit that is synonymous with the tropics.
Time was now getting on, distances provided by people were conflicting, the map purchased was a tourist version without distances between points marked.
If you want the best maps of anywhere in the world go omnimaps.com they are great.
Stopping at a service station, 2 large iced teas were thrown down a parched throat. I needed to stop, Playa Las Lajas was still fifteen k away. Browsing about the servo, it occurred to me why not ask to camp here, Si said the attendant.
Finding a great spot under the awning of another building on site, the gear was set up, ground sheet, air bed, silk sleeping pouch and a pillow slip of clothes, remarkable there are no mossys here, similar to under the bridge in CR.
I couldn’t believe they even had a shower for truck drivers, it was a pleasure to clean a days wind blown dust from my body.
Showering, thoughts briefly recalled a feather and some words.
Lying down on the air bed and listening to some favorite music, a state of exaggerated relaxation was reached, the day had been a big one, in some ways it was a sense of achievement for me, after all it had been hot and windy,though the latter not all day. My mind was carried afar and back again. It was such a pleasure, here in this simplest of shelters and yet so content with all around me.
This relaxation combined with good music and the days activities inspired me to pen a few words about a day spent on a bicycle in Central America.
I would like to share these thoughts with you.
Around the Rim
A new day ahead
anticipation abounds at its offings
offerings I am eager to accept
enthusiasm to be spilt
People waving people greeting
acknowledging them with respect
noise of engines
peace in their absence
The quiet flow of chain and teeth
noises of nature keep this sound beneath
parrots talking cattle talking people talking
the beeze it whispers cools
Inner peace envelopes my being
a peace that revels in this simplicity
a life that is embraced with wonderment and grace
Able to bathe in this freedom
only reaching for the shore at days end
having bathed to excess all around
My mind eagerly awaits
the first step in lights new creation
a step is taken
it is enthused listening full of anticipation
It was a 24 hour gas station, it felt safe. Tomorrow Playa Las Lajas will be visited, it is 15k away.
Passage : Paso Canoa to 2k nth of Playa Las Lajas turnoff
Dist: 130, Time: 7, Av. Speed: 18.52, Total kms: 8741
Weather: fine 35℃,Wind: light, very strong S at David, Terrain:plano con colinas pequenas
Getting away at the wind of a sparrow, the rear light was fitted to provide drivers better visability with regards to my presence.
The freeway was a pleasure, good shoulder and fairly flat. A melon was enjoyed enroute, this one was a tad dodgey but still edible.
I managed to persuade a guy at a weigh bridge to weigh the set up, bugger it wouldn’t register, so my weight was added, he called back ochenta kilos, it obviously still wasn’t working , never mind. Muchas gracias para todo was my parting comment.
Fifty k down the road David was reached, waiting there was one hell of a head wind, in the vicinity of 40 knots and dangerous. Up ahead was a new fatness factory. Pulling in, it was a relief to be out of the wind. The staff were great we had fun with my spanish, my new word for the visit was batido= milkshake, incidently dos batidos de chocolate grande were enjoyed.
A few emails were posted and the journal updated.
Venturing outside the wind was still howling. The terrain was dry and flat with cloud topped ranges visible to the east. A guy told me that the town of Boquete to the north was a favorite with gringos due to its cool climate.
This trip so far has been a constant enjoyable series of greetings, horns tooting and waving as people say hello. For me it’s buenos, bueno, buen dia, hola, many people here say hello, though in rural areas it is always buenos, buen or bueno. The friendless offered on the road has been so enjoyable.
Pulling over under the shade of a big mango tree and speaking with a guy and his wife about distances I commented on the origin of his wife. She looked like one of the woman of Andean origin, strong facial features and as proud as hell. She was of short stature, also dressed in a colourful dress. Having only seen photos of these woman in Nat Geo, it was a bit of an assumption. Her husband told me they were born here in Panama.
The heat was now building, pulling in to get a drink, 1 litre of milk was drunk, also the same of grape jiuce and a start on 2l of water was made. It is getting costly to keep up the fluids, however these are my fuel there is no other way, chilled drinks are so welcome compared to the hot water generally consumed on the road.
During a gear change, dumping the chain from the big cog to the middle one, it somehow got caught in the front derailleur and jammed, this had to be attended to in a very careful manner any lasting problems here would not be welcomed. Turned out it had twisted it on the seat post tube, so it was realined and all was good. Fine tuning would be done later.
Then the front tyre expelled its air, Not being surprised, as all down the highway are old truck tryes, some burnt, some shredded but all riddled with the wire that gives them their steel belt, this stuff is just hanging out on the shoulder, it’s predatory when it comes to pushbike tyres.
Burning is still a tool used here to control roadside vegetation, much of the roadside had been burnt or was burning, truck tyres in the grass just get burnt.
Patching the tube was done without removing the front wheel, only took about 15 minutes, glueless patches were used, so simple, anyway another 20k only it let go again, shade was found and the ritual reenacted. Not taking anything away from these patches, the problem was one corner of one patch had rolled.
South of San Lorenzo, large Piña farms lined the road, stopping, a photo of a young piña was taken, after all they are bromeliads, it is ineresting to note the many flowers that combined provide us with that fruit that is synonymous with the tropics.
Time was now getting on, distances provided by people were conflicting, the map purchased was a tourist version without distances between points marked.
If you want the best maps of anywhere in the world go omnimaps.com they are great.
Stopping at a service station, 2 large iced teas were thrown down a parched throat. I needed to stop, Playa Las Lajas was still fifteen k away. Browsing about the servo, it occurred to me why not ask to camp here, Si said the attendant.
Finding a great spot under the awning of another building on site, the gear was set up, ground sheet, air bed, silk sleeping pouch and a pillow slip of clothes, remarkable there are no mossys here, similar to under the bridge in CR.
I couldn’t believe they even had a shower for truck drivers, it was a pleasure to clean a days wind blown dust from my body.
Showering, thoughts briefly recalled a feather and some words.
Lying down on the air bed and listening to some favorite music, a state of exaggerated relaxation was reached, the day had been a big one, in some ways it was a sense of achievement for me, after all it had been hot and windy,though the latter not all day. My mind was carried afar and back again. It was such a pleasure, here in this simplest of shelters and yet so content with all around me.
This relaxation combined with good music and the days activities inspired me to pen a few words about a day spent on a bicycle in Central America.
I would like to share these thoughts with you.
Around the Rim
A new day ahead
anticipation abounds at its offings
offerings I am eager to accept
enthusiasm to be spilt
People waving people greeting
acknowledging them with respect
noise of engines
peace in their absence
The quiet flow of chain and teeth
noises of nature keep this sound beneath
parrots talking cattle talking people talking
the beeze it whispers cools
Inner peace envelopes my being
a peace that revels in this simplicity
a life that is embraced with wonderment and grace
Able to bathe in this freedom
only reaching for the shore at days end
having bathed to excess all around
My mind eagerly awaits
the first step in lights new creation
a step is taken
it is enthused listening full of anticipation
It was a 24 hour gas station, it felt safe. Tomorrow Playa Las Lajas will be visited, it is 15k away.
Piña pequeña con flores
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The nest, north of Playa Las Lajas, no mossy net or tent needed
Panama freeway, the shoulder was a bit rough, but two lanes helped, light traffic allowed the use of the right lane
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