Ecuador – Peru

Posted on January 12, 2012 by

After another 21 hour journey I made it back to Quito Ecuador at 12 midnight. I hopped in a cab and found a hotel that was located near where I stored my motorcycle. The next morning I retrieved my bike, pumped up the rear tire which had mysteriously gone flat and hit the road. I was headed for a place called Canoa along the coast about 400km away.
Getting out of Quito was my first challenge; it’s a huge city with a surprisingly small population of 1.4 million. It’s built into the mountains and really spread out. A wrong turn has you going into an undesired valley and gets you completely lost. The old part of the city which is really small is nice but the rest I could do without. There was not much there to hold my interest so I got the hell out of there as quick as I could. It’s also at about 3000 meters altitude so breathing was a little difficult for me. I felt like I had a belt around my chest the whole time I was there.
Finally after a few wrong turns I made it to the right road and back into the Andes. That’s when the rain started again and visibility came down to about 100 meters. I’m sure the view was spectacular but I couldn’t enjoy any of it, I had to concentrate on not dying on this slippery fog covered road. After two hours riding at break neck speeds of 60kph through this,the rain stopped and I was out of the Andes and on flat ground.

The roads for the next while were good so I was able to make up some time and reached Canoa around 5pm. I met up with a friend of mine Aine who lives there and we set about getting on the piss. We drank the bar dry literally in about 10 min. We had the last two beers in the place and we had to drink them out of mugs. There is a law in Ecuador that prohibits the sale of alcohol after 4pm on Sundays. They don’t tell you that in the brochures.

The next day was spent repacking my bike and tightening up loose bolts followed with some relaxing and surfing (badly) on the beautiful beach before partying well into the night. Canoa is a nice place to visit, I could easily spend a few months here but I have to move on and try catch the a little bit of Dakar at least.

I was ready to leave Canoa at 6am but my land lady had other ideas, Ideas, I should say dreams, she didn’t show up till 7am to unlock the gate. I have a hell of a ride in front of me for the next few days. It’s a challenge I generously except, I love big days in the saddle, watching the scenery change from mountains to desert like it did today was fantastic.
The border crossing was the usual hour or two of riding around, Although in fairness if I could speak or read Spanish it would have been a breeze. When will them Spanish speakers come to there senses and learn to speak the english.

I had a close encounter today like I had in Guatemala with the dog, except in place of the dog there was an eight or nine year old little girl. I rounded a corner doing about 70kph (which I was legally allowed to do) when suddenly this little girl ran out from the side of a house that was on the main road. She ran directly into my path. I didn’t know if she was going to keep running ,stop or turn around. I hit the brakes as hard as I could and skidded straight for her waiting to see which direction she was going to go. She looked up at me terrified, and along with my heart stopped mid beat. She just froze to the spot with one leg still in the air mid run. I thought to myself this is going to be bad, I thought I don’t want to see this, I thought about closing my eye’s so I wouldn’t have to see it. Then all of a sudden it was like being in the matrix, everything slowed down, started moving in super slow motion and I had a chance to think.
Continuing on in this course was going to end up with a dead or mutilated little girl and me heading to jail so this was not an option. I had to come up with plan B in milliseconds. I figured as long as she didn’t move I could accelerate full throttle and just about get around her. I had one go at this, do I go to her left or right. I choose left and opened it up to come out of the skid. She didn’t move and she’s still alive. My heart has aged considerably though. I pulled up to the road side and roared at her but she didn’t even move. I think she was frozen to the spot. A women came out as I was about to head back and took her from the road. There was someone looking out for the both of us on that stretch of road and thank god there was, another two lives might have been ended on that road side today.

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Posted in Ecuador, Peru | 4 Comments

COLOMBIA – ECUADOR (San Agustin – Mocoa – Pasto – Otavolo – Quito)

Posted on January 8, 2012 by

On December the 10th we left San Agustin on what was to turn out as one of the best roads of the trip so far. The first 50km or so were paved but all that suddenly came to an abrupt end as the road soon turned to rock. Yes rock, that’s the best and only way to describe the surface we were riding on. The road twisted through the jungle winding up into the mountains for about 150km. There were many water crossings along the way, riding on rock these crossings were quite slippery. I almost ended up on my side in one such crossing but the determination to keep my laptop and cameras dry prevailed and I somehow managed to keep upright. The road was cut into the mountain side and in parts it was no more than 2 meters wide. Traffic was light luckily enough except for the odd convoy of trucks which had us pulling up on the verge of  300 meter drops at some stages.
Along route Andre got his 3rd puncture in 3 riding days. We’re pretty used to fixing Andre’s bike now and all set about doing our various tasks and had it fixed on the side of a cliff in no time.
We rode this 150km of rock for about 4 hours, it was a fantastic ride and well worth it. The road finally wound down to a little village where we stopped for lunch, the local girls wanted to know who was married and who had girlfriends, I think they wanted to hop on the back of the bikes and come with us.

About another hour later we arrived in the beautiful town of Pasto, only kidding, Pasto is a hole, that didn’t matter one bit though the people there are friendly and helpful. It just puzzles me that Colombia is such a beautiful place and that so many people choose to live in such crap holes. We found a hostel, had dinner and called it a night. Another great day in the saddle.
The next morning we loaded up our bikes while they were parked on the footpath outside the hostel. Soon a crowd had gathered to watch all the commotion. The’re were people taking photos of us from every angle. The locals all thought we were participants in the Dakar rally. Poor participants without support trucks no doubt.
We headed off towards the border a short hour or so’s ride through great mountain roads. We were reaching some crazy speeds racing everything in sight, the locals were doing there best to keep up which made the ride interesting and deadly to say the least.
The border crossing was the easiest to date. Exiting Colombia took about 20 minutes for the four of us, entering Ecuador was straight forward as well except for the guy in customs who filled out the forms typing slowly with one finger. He took over an hour to fill out 4 simple forms. All the same it was nice to have no one bothering or hassling you throughout the crossing. We were free in Ecuador, country number 31 on my motorcycle adventures.

We headed off through the Andes once again towards the town of Otavolo. The main roads in Ecuador are also well maintained, they twist up and down through some amazing scenery, it reminded me of northern Iran in parts, beautifully dry and mountainous.

Along route we were stopped by the cops again for no apparent reason. They weren’t too interested in myself, Mark or Andre though. It was Kerman they were after. They took all his paper work and started making phone calls. Kerman is riding a Honda 650 XLR bike that’s registered in his sisters name in the US, he’s French and rides on a fake Tanzanian licence, all great ingredients to get you in trouble in foreign lands. They let the rest of us go so we headed off slowly and waited at a restaurant in the next town. No point in hanging around with these guys , sooner or later they start looking for money for something or other. Kerman soon showed up and we found out what happened. Apparently there are 2 XLR’s registered in Ecuador, one belongs to the son of some big shot and was stolen recently. There is a country-wide search going on for Mr big shots sons bike. Not good news for Kerman who will most likely get stopped and questioned throughout Ecuador. We reached the town of Otavolo and called it a day.

Andre set about dismantling his whole bike again because it was running on one piston. After a bit of work and some prayer himself and Mark somehow managed to fix it. I pushed in one of his spark plugs properly while all this was going on, I reckon that was the problem all along but Andre wont admit it.

Later on that evening I checked my email to find another urgent message to contact home. I Skyped my girlfriend who had the unenviable task of informing me that one of my best friends had been found dead in Vietnam. This is the second time in six weeks she has had to give me terrible news. I informed the guys and went and found a bar, still in shock. We knocked back beer all night.
Now I had no choice but to ride to Quito and arrange to fly home to be with Michael’s family. It was a short sad ride to Quito for me.

Along the way we stopped off at the Equator to stand on the centre of the world. There is a giant monument to this imaginary line here built by the French. The 30-meter-tall monument was built between 1979 and 1982, the only problem is that it’s in the wrong place. The real Equator line is about 500 meters away on private property which the owners have turned into a park of sorts. There are some strange goings on there for sure. It’s possible to close your eye’s and walk a straight line anywhere except for right on the equator, you simply cannot do it. You can also balance an egg on a nail right on the line and nowhere else, your strength is easily halved while standing on it and my favourite of all is the water circulation observation.

A dish was placed right on the line with leaves in it, when the plug was pulled the water flowed straight down, move the dish 2 meters to the right and the water swirled clockwise and 2 meters to the left and the water swirled anticlockwise. Now I know all about the Coriolis force so don’t go writing to me telling me it was a trick. It may have been but I know what I saw an it was cool.
Afterwards we rode through Quito to the tourist area, it took ages to navigate around the city traffic. Quito is to put it mildly, huge. We found a hotel and I was able to go on-line and book a flight back to Ireland. The following morning I left my bike with a friend of a friend of a friend and headed back to Cork.

I am now typing this from Houston Airport while I make my way back to Quito. I will pick up my bike tomorrow and resume my trip.

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Posted in Colombia, Ecuador | 2 Comments

Michael Greaney

Posted on December 14, 2011 by

I have been struck by tragedy once again. My best friend in Australia has been found dead in Ho Chi Ming city, Vietnam. I’m flying back to Ireland once again. Cherish the loved ones around you, they could be gone at any minute.

You lived life to the fullest my friend and that can never be taken from you. You were always there for us whenever needed with a smile an a beer. A kind and gentle soul, mischievous to the end.
RIP bro till we meet again, cos then I’m kicken your ass
Love you man..

Posted in Uncategorized | 8 Comments

Medellin – Solento – Cali – San Agustin

Posted on December 11, 2011 by

After three nights in Medellin I was ready to move in permanently. It’s a fantastic city full of fun and friendly people. We didn’t get to see too much of it by day because we were based in the city’s night spot. The bright part of the twenty-four hours was spent a mostly hung-over to say the least. There were about fifty restaurants, bars and clubs within walking distance of our guest house. I normally don’t care for such things but in Medellin’s case I made an exception. We had met up a few more bikers Mark knew while we were in Medellin. It turned out it was one of their birthdays so we had no choice but to celebrate with them.

Two days later and almost recovered the five of us undertook the journey to Solento. About ten km out-of-town there was an accident and a massive tail back, in fact it was five km long on the opposite side. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise as we were able to slip through the traffic and emerge out the other side to empty roads. The surface was great and the bends nice and frequent, motorcyclist paradise, and best of all we had them all to ourselves.

We rode hard and fast all morning trying to knock some time off what was predicted by the GPS. (I’m sick of them things always being right). At a turn in the road I stopped and waited for the others. Mark and Manny (From Canada) soon joined me but there were no sign of the other two. A half hour later a Colombian biker stopped and informed us that the other guys had broken down just outside the town we had lunch in. We turned around and headed back the forty or so km. It turned out Andre had gotten a puncture. Just as we arrived Jorgen (from Canada) also arrived from the opposite direction with Andre’s front wheel strapped to his bike. He had taken the wheel back to the town and had a new tube put in, after the guys had pinched and burst the first tube while putting it in. Andre reassembles the bike quickly and we were back on the road once again. We now however had heaps of truck to overtake.

We were stopped a total of three times by the cops on route, twice only just to check our papers but the third time was because I got caught undertaking a bus. I guess they had to stop me as I did it right in front of them. They then proceeded to blabber on about something or other in some crazy language for a while. I couldn’t understand a word of it. I just kept smiling and pointing to my map bombarding them with stupid questions. I think this guy really wanted to fine me too but he couldn’t get his point across and I just kept playing dumb. When he finally asked for my passport I figured I was screwed. He took one look and called over another guy. They talked for a while but I couldn’t understand too much, I did however hear them say “Ireland”. After that they strolled over shook my hand, told me to have a nice day and said I could leave.

We arrived in rainy Solento after a full days ride just before dark. Solento is famous for? Being near a place called Cocora (maybe) which has giant palm trees in the Surroundings Mountains. Some of these trees are up to 60meters high. The following morning we squeezed into a tiny ww11 jeep and I mean squeezed, in fact some of us had to stand on the back for an hour and headed into the mountains. From there we rode through the trees in the rain on horseback for a while. A while too long if you ask me. I could barely walk after wards.

The next days ride from Solento to Cali was almost too easy, the roads were great, the weather perfect, the hangover was minimal and I was in good company. It was good to be able to completely open the throttle again even if only for a short while. We entered Cali getting lost straight away; we ended up in parts of the city most tourists would never see. Had it have been dark I think we may have ended up walking out of these parts in our underwear and that’s if we were lucky.

The next morning we headed off at 8am for San Agustin, a ride of about 270km, the last 130km of which were on dirt. We stopped for breakfast in the town of Popayan and bid farewell to Jorgen and Manny, they are on a tight schedule and heading towards Ecuador. (Great riding with you guys). After the locals were finished taking pictures of us and our bikes we headed out onto the dirt and into the Andes.

The rain came quick and hard as we reached the first obstacle. The road literally became a half meter deep fast flowing river that we had to ride along for a few hundred meters. This resulted in me being completely soaked through right at the start of this five hour ride into the unknown. Next came a landslide which we must have just missed but luckily were able to squeeze through. The road climbed above 3200 meters into the clouds and the temperature dropped to below 9 degrees. The rain continued to pour and turned the dirt road to complete mud in sections. I was loving it.

We were now in southern Colombia and on a road very few (if any) travelers take. While riding hard and enjoying every minute I had unbeknown to myself taken off way ahead of the others. As I slid round a bend in the thick dense jungle a guy in combats carrying a machine gun was standing by the road side, he looked real surprised and not too happy to see me. About 200meters down the road another guy appeared from the jungle also carrying a machine gun and wearing combats. The only difference was this guy was smiling and wearing a Metallica hat. He gave me a big wave and I gave him the devils horns salute as I passed. I didn’t think these guys belonged to the regular Colombian army and I certainly wasn’t hanging around to find out.

Just after a particularly muddy section about 4km further on I stopped the bike and set up my camera. I was hoping to get a nice shot of one of the other guys sliding through the mud preferably on his ass. I was waiting for about fifteen minutes before Mark appeared. Unfortunately the photo opportunity never arose because Mark is a very good and experienced rider having ridden here from Australia, firstly through Asia, the Middle East, Europe and North and Central America. We waited for the others for a half hour or so but there was no sign of them. I decided I should head back and see what was going on before it got any darker. We still had over an hour’s riding through this wet soaking jungle and it was only about two hours from complete darkness.

I headed back through the deep muddy section luckily once again staying upright. I rounded corner after corner expecting to see the guys at the exit of each turn but they were nowhere in sight. I was beginning to wonder if the armed guys may have kidnapped them as I went further and further. Finally, after about a half hours ride and 10km, I rounded a corner to see them fixing a puncture on Andre’s front wheel. They were on the second attempt with tube number two because they pinched the first tube when putting the tire on rendering it useless. This reminded of what happened three days earlier when the same exact thing happened to Andre’s rear wheel.  Live and learn (what?). I joined in with the repairs in the pouring rain and twenty minutes later we were back on the road. Andre later told us he reckoned there were people in the jungle watching them the whole time they were fixing the puncture, I just wished they had come out and helped.

It was now getting dark and I was even more soaked and frozen. Every time I stood up on the bike the water that had been heating up in my crotch would run down my leg and quickly be replaced by freezing cold water. It was real hard to stay still on these dirt roads; there was certainly no chance of warming up whatsoever. This continued until we came to the little town of San Agustin and I was finally able to remove everything and have a hot shower. We settled in for dinner and a few beers in a guest house on the side of a mountain. Another great day in the saddle…

The next day was spent relaxing and exploring the excavated statues of San Agustin. Some of these statues date back to 3000BC. They (whoever they are) have no idea who put them there, they reckon they were some sort of burial sites, good guess I’d say …We spent three nights in the mountains in this little town relaxing, a well deserved break too I might add…

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Posted in Colombia | 3 Comments

Cartagena – Medellin

Posted on December 3, 2011 by

After a two-day ride through the mountains we arrived at the one time murder capital of the world and home to the infamous Pablo Escobar. As we rode into this huge city built in a valley we were abused by a local taxi driver. Well at first we thought we were being abused but as he got closer it turned out all he was yelling was ,”WELCOME TO MEDELLIN”.

The first days ride here was cold wet and tiring, it took us six hours in the pouring rain to ride 300km. The roads through the mountains are like frayed twisted ropes that have just been dropped into place. There is a hell of a lot of traffic, mostly trucks shipping stuff to and fro, to the port of Cartagena.

Riding in Colombia is a lot like riding in Asia. The road rules are only there for a guide, the only rule obeyed is the one that states ” the bigger vehicles make the rules”. It’s not uncommon to ride into a corner and find two trucks fighting for position,  heading straight for you as they try to overtake each other on these narrow strips of bubbling concrete. You just have to do your best to try squeeze between them and whatever ending may be on either side. At times you have to jam on the brakes altogether and pull over off the side of the road. Its ok in the dry but in the wet bikes don’t stop too quick.

The next days ride was more exciting, the rain had almost stopped and there were dry  patches of road we could ride hard and fast on,  we were putting these trucks into the rear view as soon as we came upon them. We have also been sucked into the madness of Colombia driving, overtaking at speed into blind corners hoping for a meter wide space to open up if there is on coming traffic.

Along route we were stopped by the police a few times. The first time was so that they could detonate a live hand grenade that was found outside some ones house, about 200 meters down the road. They must have used TNT to blow it up because there was one hell of a explosion. The locals must be used to such sights because they didn’t flinch a muscle as the surrounding sand bags were blown to bits. We were soon on our way through the smoke-filled village. The next time we were stopped was because the police simply wanted a chat, they were only interested in the bikes and where we were going. They were searching other cars and frisking there drivers but laughing and joking with us. The only problem was that while they held us there chatting about twenty trucks we had just overtaken on these narrow mountain roads had passed us again. As soon as they let us go we overtook or should I say undertook a massive truck right in front of them but they couldn’t care less, we were causing no harm to anyone. Why cops in other country’s can’t use similar judgement for stupid road rules I’ll never know.

As we entered Medellin the chaotic city traffic engulfed us like the city smog. In no time at all we switched to “city riding mode” and prepared for the upcoming battle, and what a battle it was. Medellin, a city with a population of 3.3 million people is built in the middle of a mountain pass, it’s pretty narrow and incredibly long. The traffic is all squeezed together and funnelled down this central corridor. We met up with a crazy Russian a few days ago. He has ridden from NYC to here in two months, He can’t speak a word of Spanish not to mind English but has some how made it this far. We bumped into him again as we entered the city. He was bringing up the rear as we rode through the city chaos as fast as possible. Suddenly Mark who was leading (and who had the only working GPS) took a quick left turn without any notice. This left myself and Andre with no choice but to fly across a few lanes of traffic just to stay on track. If we lost Mark we would be swallowed up by Medellin. Unfortunately for the Russian he didn’t make it, he was funnelled into the unknown and we never saw him again. Medellin has him now, she may never let him go…

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Posted in Uncategorized | 7 Comments

Panama – Colombia

Posted on November 30, 2011 by

Thirty countries over Five continents and counting…

We had to ride the bikes up a 200mm wide plank to get them on the catamaran. It was a little hairy to say the least, the boat was bobbing up and down and swaying from side to side all the while this was going on. It took about five guys to get each bike aboard. They were then lashed down to everything in sight. This made walking from the back to the front of the boat nice and difficult too, especially in the rougher seas. Our captain cleared immigration for us but I don’t think he bothered doing anything about the bikes. I think I’d better stay away from Panama for a while. 

We set sail for the San Blas Islands along the coast. There are hundreds of these islands on route to Colombia sheltered by coral reefs. Once we entered the reef the seas were calm and gentle. The Islands them selves range in size, from a bit of sand with a single palm tree to larger islands that contain a few houses inhabited by the Kuna people. These people live real primitive lives, existing on seafood and coconuts. They get about, travelling from island to island in dugout canoes. They can move surprisingly quickly in these tiny hollowed out trees when they want to trade with passing vessel’s for coca-cola and beer, mainly beer. We also purchased a bucket load of crabs and lobster off some of them for 20$, a pretty fine deal too.

We spent two days and nights sheltered in the reef snorkelling and spear fishing. As I was returning to the boat after the last hunting session I happened to spy something stir in the sand about ten meters below. I dived down quickly to get a closer look, there below me was a stingray hiding and half buried in sand. I wasn’t sure if there was any point in killing it, I didn’t even know if it was eatable. I returned to the surface and pointed the prize out to (the cheese eating surrender monkey) Kerman. He gave me a thumbs up so I dived back down. I knew I had only one chance and I knew the shot had to be between the wings and body. I got to within a metre of it and fired the trigger, nailing the stingray to the sea bed. They have a poisonous barb that was flailing about wildly so I just towed it back to the boat holding the gun firmly in my hand all the while making sure to keep an eye on  the barb making sure it didn’t get too close. Once we climbed on board and hauled it in Kerman quickly threw a towel on the barb and stood on it. I took out my knife and cut away the danger. The ray was then butchered and served up for dinner along with crab and lobster. I have found myself a new hobby I think.

After dinner we set sail for Colombia, the crossing was surprisingly calm and even enjoyable. Fritz had sea sickness patches, one of which I put behind my ear and I was almost perfect the entire crossing. We arrived into Cartagena around 1am but spent the night on the boat. That day we spent strolling the beautiful streets of the old city. It’s a beautiful city full of friendly helpful people. The next day we went back to the boat and removed our bikes. Getting them off was nowhere as hard as getting them on but it was still a difficult process. we then spent the day clearing the bikes through customs and getting insurance…

Tomorrow we head out to explore the country in the direction of  Medellin…

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Posted in Colombia | 3 Comments

Costa Rica – Panama

Posted on November 24, 2011 by

I bid Chip Hasta la Pasta around 8am and headed off towards Panama. About ten minutes out-of-town who did I pass only Pierre, He must have walked most of the previous day and night to make it to where he was. I briefly stopped and exchanged pleasantries before hitting the road at the break neck speed of 80kph. The roads here are fine but there are cops everywhere, the speed limit is very low and enforced with 300$ fines.

I crossed the border with relative ease, it only took an hour for the whole crossing. I just gave a kid 10$ and he done all the running around for me, he came back periodically with forms for me to sign and to stick me in some cue of other. Best 10$ I ever spent. I was free in Panama and across the last difficult border in the last country of Central America. It’s also the 29th country on planet earth I’ve ridden my bike too or through.

I rode on through the lashing rain for another four hours until I finally reached a little town called Pedsai on the southern most tip of Panama. Here I meet up with Andre and Kerman, two other adventure riders I met in Guatemala. We had dinner swapped stories  over a few beers and planned the next stage of our Adventures.

The next day was spent swimming, eating coconuts and riding bikes on beaches around the peninsular. It was the first full day without rain in a long time. The first beach we came across was totally deserted; we had it all to ourselves. There were coconuts a plenty so lunch was free and delicious too. Pedsai is a nice little town full of friendly people, a great place to stay if you ever get a chance. Panama as a whole is a bit different from the rest of Central America. It’s more developed than all bar Costa Rica, the roads are mostly fine and the people are pretty friendly. So far the cops seem honest as well which is a big plus for us.

Tuesday morning the 22nd we took off at 8am after a hearty breakfast to Panama City. It was about three hundred km away and a very easy boring ride, two-thirds of which were on a motorway. Kerman got caught speeding and over taking on a double yellow line, apparently you’re not allowed to do that here. The cop that pulled him was nice and let him off with a warning. That didn’t stop us trying to make the most out of the ride, at one stage Andre was standing on his seat, motorways are so boring for motorcycles but it was the only way to Panama City. We entered the hot and humid city, crossing over the bridge of the Americas which spans the Panama Canal on route. We then spent an hour riding around in the 30 degree heat looking for the hotel we booked, when we found it I think we all wished we didn’t. I didn’t even go inside, I could tell from one look at the outside I wasn’t staying there. We searched a heap of other hotels in the area until we found one with a vacancy and safe parking for the bikes. We are all stuck in the one room, we can hear our neighbour’s TV,  and every move they make and the smell is just delightful. Being stuck on a boat with twelve other people for five days should be easy after this…

Our last day in Panama City was spent wandering about like idiotic tourists with cameras taking photos of anything that looked out of the ordinary. Unfortunately Panama City is just like any other Central American city. The old part was nice so we spent the afternoon there watching life pass by. The business district is the usual concrete jungle consisting of towering monstrosities engulfing the skyline. We didn’t even go there; a view from the distance was enough. It turns out that three out of the four of us don’t really like cities and would rather be anywhere else.

We did however go and visit the Miraflores locks on the Panama Canal. It was a little impressive for sure, there were a few ships passing through when we were there so we got to see them rise and fall like the Irish economy as the locks opened and closed. To be honest though we only went there for something to do, save yourself the effort and watch the documentary Discovery Channel made from the comfort of your lounge. You’ll even learn more that way.

We have a two-hour ride tomorrow before we load our bikes onto a catamaran, Colombia bound. We will spend four nights on-board and pass through the San Blas islands on route. It sounds like a sweet trip for sure. The boat takes twelve passengers, three of whom I already know. I just hope the weather’s going to be alright. All going well I’ll be free in South America on Monday next.

I’d just like to say thank you if could for all the kind messages from everyone lately. I don’t even know a lot of you (hopefully someday I will get to meet ye all) but your support is really appreciated. It’s been very hard to motivate myself to continue and to try to enjoy this adventure, your words of encouragement have really helped me to carry on through this difficult time.

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Posted in Panama | 7 Comments