Crossing the Continental Divide

August 1st to 4th

Today is going to be a killer! It's one of the biggest single day climbs we have attempted on our tour so far. We're going from sea level to 2000m (6,700 feet) and back down again taking us all the way from the Caribbean Sea to the Pacific Ocean. We set off under a beautiful cool dawn sky to give us the most time possible....

We pass small indigenous villages of wooden stilt huts topped with palm thatch. These are the villages of the 'Ngobe Bugle Indians' - the traditional hunters and farmers of the region. The children flash wide eyed and big, toothy smiles at us as we pass; the women wave shyly, resplendent in brightly coloured, geometrically patterned dresses....

The Ngobe Bugle number around 120,000 and live by raising cattle, chicken, dogs and pigs. The rivers provide water and a place to fish and wash clothes in stunning surroundings....

After seeing their traditional dress, the Western styled uniforms seem to clash as the children head off to school, proving there is nowhere in the world to escape the call of the school bell....

20 kilometers of flat to get the legs turning and then the climb begins, steep roads aimed at ever higher peaks....

The road undulates for a while, short nasty mini-summits followed by rapid descents that lose nine metres for every 10 climbed. It's a little frustrating, but you can't complain too much when the scenery is so incredible and the people so friendly.

Then the climb proper begins and there are no more downhill sections. Days like this you just dig in and try and set up a rhythm of smooth pedal rotations - it's all about conserving energy. Rushing is pointless as it only pushes speeds up from a drowsy 4 mph up to a dizzy 5 mph whilst killing the lungs and legs. Patience is the watchword - almost a lazy way of achieving total exhaustion. Each false summit merely reveals the next....

Behind us is the accumulation of our efforts, the view across La Fortuna Forestry Reserve and The Carribean Sea, 15 miles distant and one mile below us....

After six hours of climbing we finally reach the first summit before dropping a couple of hundred metres down to Lake Fortuna, a man made body of water dammed at one end with a hydroelectric plant.

The winds pick up, the skies drop and darken and the wet stuff falls from the sky as we resume climbing out of this flooded valley. It's possibly the steepest part of the climb and the nagging wind coupled with leaden legs makes it tough going...

Finally.... finally, after around nine grueling hours, the gradient reverses and the front wheel tips lower as we crest the last peak and roll gratefully over the top. The mountain is defeated and we have conquered the Continental Divide! Suddenly the world is moving more quickly again and the legs can take a breather. We won't be needing them for the next 25 miles now as gravity takes over and does all the work for us.

It's pouring down; and unbelievably we are cold! I just can't remember the last time (or country) when we were last cold!

10 kilometers or so later we reach Valle de la Mina (Valley of the Mine) and see a guesthouse. It would be a shame to head straight back down to the Pacific and not enjoy the view we worked so hard for so I head in to inquire about a room.

And so we meet Frankie and George.

The 'room for rent' turns out to be George's house next door. It's huge - 2 bathrooms, kitchen, a bar area and 'la piece de la resistance' a massive picture window with panoramic views of the entire valley. It's amazing! I get the sinking feeling that our $20 dollar budget for accommodation won't really cover this and we start to negotiate. The best I can do is knock Francois down to $40, which is an absolute steal; but still too much for us. He then offers to throw in as much food, wine and beer as we can manage and the deal is sealed! We join them for supper...

It looks like they have been at the wine for a good few hours already, but we tuck in to a huge plate and the drink flows. Francois is a raconteur with an endless supply of tall tales, one about how they managed to install the piano that George (the concert pianist) effortlessly plays in the background. More wine flows and this has all the makings of a memorable stay.

So we do.... for an extra day.

Why not when the views from our backdoor terrace are this good....

After being unconscious for 12 hours straight we head for breakfast the following morning. It's an entertaining affair as Francois is already several glasses of wine to the good and he's in a voluble mood.

He tells us he is setting up an eco-hostel on several acres of land he's managed to acquire, growing organic coffee. His plan is to set up a connoisseur's coffee bar (Cafe in the Clouds) with his first crop of high quality 'arabica robusta' ready next month. The roasting machine is on it's way from Korea and the expresso machine from the US. He plans to export some coffee direct to France cutting out the middle men who control the coffee industry in Central America. He also helps the locals to do the same thing to try and keep the money in the local community. As well as coffee he's nearly self sufficient for power, using solar, wind and hydro electric. and also has milk cows, chickens for eggs and orchards of fruit to make the wine he is so successfully testing this morning. He happily admits that the wine might not be as lucrative as the coffee as he drinks most of the profits....

Our day off is spent quite happily exploring his land, enjoying the views and tinkering with the bikes that need a little TLC. It's so nice to be in the cool mountain air after the sweaty heat of the rain forest.

That night we pop over to see Frankie expecting to be fed again only to discover that he's now paralytic drunk and it's pretty obvious there's no chance of food. We have a couple of beers with him and enjoy some free entertainment listening to his theories about the world. It transpires that:

1) the world is going to end in 2012 when all the planets are in alignment and it's going to be terrible. The Mayan's predicted this five thousand years ago!

2)We have to create this little slice of Eden together to grow food and survive the coming apocalypse.

3) The Chinese are aliens and need to be destroyed as they're taking over the world starting with Panama.

4) Viking warriors have saved the world in the past and are the dragon slayers having defeated the Chinese last time. They are our only hope of salvation.

5) Sue and I with our blue eyes are obviously descendants from the vikings. Of the pure blood, we can help save him and defeat the Chinese hoard.

6) We only use 5% of our brains and we have to find the key for the other 95%

7) By coincidence only 5% of the world is real matter - the rest being hidden as anti matter.

8) If we can find the key to unlock 95% of our brain we will be able to see the 95% of the universe that is anti-matter

9) The 95% anti matter is in fact invisible Chinese people.

10) He wants to give us a piece of his land here with a house so we can become his soldiers in the fight.

Starving and at at mid-night we leave to consider his offer, and also - to cook our meal on our little stove....

Give me one entertaining and unique individual over a hundred dull clone type people any day. Thanks Francois for the wine, the stories the (occasional) grub, the entertainment and especially for cutting us the best accommodation deal of the tour so far.

Francois - a fine and splendid human being - good luck against the Chinese!!!

The next day is the easiest 60km we have ever done. It's all down hill with just a couple of little ups that we sail over using momentum. They only serve to slow us down a bit and to save our brakes.

It's taken us 4 days to get from Changuinola to David which is a four and a half hour bus ride away costing just £12. No wonder the locals think we are crazy! The difference is the views we get to see and the chance to meet people like Francois!

We're now back on the interamericana (the big highway) and the plan is to cover the distance to Panama City pretty quickly, hey that's the plan but who knows what'll distract us next.

Bienvenidos A Panama

July 29th to 31st

The plan is to beat the rush at the border crossing so we overnight in Sixaola in sight of the 'International Bridge' that forms the frontier between Costa Rica and Panama....



Unfortunately it's a popular plan, and at the 7am opening time when we hit passport control there are already 40 people queuing ahead of us at the one and only window. Processing is slow....

When a couple of coaches turn up, the queue grows and with it people's frustration at the long wait. Inevitably impatience gets the better of people and the orderly queue disintegrates as people start to push in. Normally my British reserve prevents me from commenting in these situations, but to see people marching boldly and without shame directly to the front is too much. After 40 minutes waiting we are moving backwards and my stiff upper lip crumbles and starts to give way.

I would therefore, like to take major personal credit for what follows....

I begin to protest loudly and start to physically prevent any more people pushing past me. Seeds of dissent are sown and others around me become emboldened. It's like fanning a spark and then watching the flames grow as more and more people begin to express their anger.

Suddenly everyone is pushing. It's become a free for all! I'm amazed at some people's cavalier disregard and lack of respect for the people in front of them. One woman is ramming me in the back and trying to drag me out of her way like clearing out a ruck around a rugby ball. I calmly explain to her that she is a vile individual who has no respect for others and she equally calmly tells me 'You gotta do what ever it takes' whilst clawing at me. So, I agree with her and push her back into the melee.

It's all getting so silly it's almost comical. Sue is remonstrating with one guy who is shoving her and he calmly takes any verbal abuse she dishes out until she puts an arm across his path. Then he explodes in anger 'Take your hand off me!' She explains if he joins the back of the queue she won't be able to reach him to touch him.

Something has to give, and it's the patience of the passport clerk who sits with head in hands and refuses to process anyone. It's bad timing as we had finally got to the front and he actually has my passport in his hand. The border is closed! He makes a phone call and now the police are on their way....

It's just incredible watching a woman being forcibly dragged away by burly policemen whilst still protesting and trying to push her passports through the window. She seriously thinks she can still get a passport stamp whilst holding off armed police!

The mini riot is finally put down! Order is restored, the passport clerk removes his head from his hands and our passports are duly stamped. It's taken us nearly two hours, but at last we can enter Panama as 'La Policia' remain behind to keep order....

Being responsible for closing the border is an interesting and entertaining way to enter a new country...

Our map shows the road meandering along the Panamanian coastline. There are no contour lines and we are expecting an easy ride through flat rainforest. Wrong! The land never climbs enough to break a contour, but it is far from flat. The border delay means it's hot and the dense forest keeps humidity close to 100%. We are permanently drenched in beads of sweat that sit in the clammy air and do little to cool us....

Immediately we reach an unsigned junction and the locals fall over themselves to help us and point us in the right direction before we even have time to ask. Time and again in Changuinola locals cry out greetings and wish us 'Buen Viaje' (have a nice trip) and we get an instant good vibe about Panama. It's a Saturday and the main road is blocked by a good natured procession of hundreds of school aged boys marching in team colours to a baseball tournament. Baseball is a national obsession in Panama!

The day has got away from us after these delays, so we decide to stock up on supplies and stop in the next town Almirante. The currency here is the American dollar, a legacy from the building of the canal when the country became so inundated by foreign nationals from all over the world, it was easier to adopt a more international currency. It is the dollar, complete with pictures of another country's president, but they still call it 'The Balboa'.

Another legacy of the American involvement in the canal is the availability of foodstuffs we haven't seen in ages. We are like kids in a toy shop staring at rows and rows of well stocked shelves in an air conditioned supermarket. After the sweltering mini-marts of Nicaragua and the Caribbean coast, it's a revelation.

Weighed down with a cyclista sized feast of food, the decision to stop in 'Almirante' is a good one as the road is a scorching series of steep undulations.

The next day is worse as the road reaches for the sky in what looks like a launch pad to put cars in orbit...

It's a beautiful ride past a beautiful archipelago - 'Bocas del Torro'. Many people take a boat across to this island paradise, but we're visiting the San Blas islands further south so we just enjoy the view from the mainland...

The scene is authentic tropical rainforest and indigenous people live in wooden huts raised on stilts to avoid frequent floods and ever present insects....

It's a Sunday morning and the world is still. There is absolutely no traffic on the road and the only sounds we hear is our own harsh breathing as we climb, and then the swish and fizz of our tyres as we descend...

Until your ear re-adjusts in that is....

Then you realise there is a cacophony of noise all around you.

It's like tuning a radio into different frequencies and suddenly hearing a range of stations that are normally drowned out by deafening mechanical sounds.

A bird call here...

Over there a frog chirruping and burping...

Cicadas starting up their buzz saws...

And once you learn to hear properly, sounds is everywhere, and suddenly you want your tyres to be quiet so you can pin point more.

The trees are talking to you...

It's a surreal experience as you feel yourself drawn in to the jungle and all it has to say!

Interrupted by the crash of a pannier that escapes Sue's bike on a dangerously fast and bumpy downhill....

Another tough but sublime day's riding through nature's wonders gets us to Chiriqui Grande and it's that odd jolt again as you emerge from the green and once again return to the world of straight lines and man-made objects.

We turn in for an early one, for tomorrow; we climb. The road along the coast ends here and the Pan American Highway is on the other side of the continental divide! Riding into town we come under the shadow of the 'Cordillera Central', peaks scraping the sky at over 3000 metres (10,000 feet).

Tomorrow we tackle the mountain!

Cahuita

July 27th to 30th

At last we get moving again after repairs to my bike and four days off. An early morning start allows us to sneak past Turrialba Volcano as he snorts and bellows in his sleep....

Hitting the main road at 'Guapiles' it's easy riding through flat banana and pineapple groves. Small holders cultivate patches of land along this vast plain, rich in nutrients that drop as ash from the 3000+ metre volcanoes dotted all along the central highlands. Nature has provided every advantage, but nothing is left to the voracious appetite of the insect hordes.

Small holdings slowly give way to large scale industrial agriculture and this whole area is a vast business supplying fruit bowls the world over. Strange then that it all began by accident!

Originally the cash crop of interest was coffee; grown higher up in the mountains. In order to reach export markets, a railway was needed through this area – then a dense jungle and insect infested swampland. The rails would connect suppliers with the Caribbean port at Limon and thousands of locals were drafted in to undertake this vast piece of engineering. The project was a disaster with thousands dying of tropical diseases and it's owner facing bankruptcy. US convicts replaced local workers, then the Chinese came and finally freed slaves from Jamaica and the route was eventually completed in 1890. In order to feed this army of navvies, bananas were planted along the lines as they were built. Some were exported to New Orleans in the states and the railway operatives spotted a lucrative opportunity once their popularity was recognised.

Nowadays twisted ruins of the railway run parallel to the road and bananas go by lorry, but this area was transformed and Costa Rica had a new cash crop. Rusting bridges over wide rivers serve as a reminder of man's determination....

We ride though 'Liverpool', no doubt named in honour of it's illustrious namesake – the British port city and see hundreds of container crates being stored and loaded ready for transportation....

It's good to be back on the bikes and we post 125kms (80 miles) for the day before riding into Limon. It's a typical dodgy port town full of drunks and prostitution so we hole up in a reasonable looking hotel. It doesn't stop us being disturbed in the night by the comings and goings of the hourly clientele though.

We ride out on a beautiful misty morning along an altogether different looking Caribbean Coast. This is not the one you see in all the holiday brochures....

Once we leave the industry of the port behind, we ride along a tunnel sandwiched between dense green rain forest. Heavy traffic evaporates and the only sounds we hear now are the bird calls, the insects and the roar of howler monkeys from the tree canopy. We see parakeets, hawks and spider monkeys at play swinging from tree to tree. At Cahuita, normal service is resumed and the Caribbean idyll is back to normal....

A narrow strip of land along the white sandy beaches has been turned into a nature reserve due to the unique habitats and diversity of wildlife. It's a beautiful stroll along the 8km trail flanked on one side by the crashing waves on the other by a cacophony of animal cries. Habitats change every few hundred metres and there are hundreds of different species.

Tiny spiders, venomous and deadly or just garish colours screaming out warning – who is going to test that one out?

This one is DEFINITELY deadly! Don't be fooled by the small size, it's actually the bigger the better with this 'Eyelash Palm Pitviper' as larger ones are more likely to bite in warning, rather than inject you with a lethal dose of poison. This guy is really hard to spot despite the less than shy colouration as it's perhaps only a foot long and no thicker than your finger. My heart was pounding as I took this photo as this snake is hard enough to take out you, me and all your mates....

A bit more cuddly was this young howler monkey stuffing it's face with leaves...

If Disneyland was a wildlife reserve, it would be a bit like this. Everywhere you turn is another rarity and it almost feels like you are in a zoo, the animal spottings are so frequent. A three toed sloth sits imperiously and unmoving in it's high tree....

Spider's webs are everywhere like silver curtains draped between the trees....

The land close to the water scuttles with hundreds of startled crabs that seem to appear from nowhere and disappear just as fast into fist sized holes in the path. Their shells are bright orange or blue or a vivid purple and their mandibles are bright red.

There are golden headed geckos....

In amongst the trees there are huge numbers of frog species and you can hear them calling to one another in their alien language of croaks and throaty burps. Unfortunately many are tiny and impossible to see in the dense forest so we visit the 'Ranaria' - 'Frogery' in English I suppose. Here a small natural environment has been created and the owners only have a license to catch and release 'local' frogs from a similar habitat. Hundreds of frogs have been added to Ranaria over the years and these have bred and multiplied. Even so their natural instinct is to hide and despite their bright colouration, they are still incredibly difficult to find.

This poison dart frog is maybe the size of an adult's thumb....

A major icon of Costa Rican wildlife is the nocturnal 'Red Eyed Tree Frog' which is the only frog that has eye lids and can actually close it's eyes to sleep which it does continuously during daylight. Fortunately this one was awake when I was there and really lived up to his name....

Cahuita is a great way to remember Costa Rica as this is our last night in the country. Tomorrow we head out to the Panamanian border and hit double figures. Panama will be country number 10 for the trip....

Tortuguero

July 22nd to 26th

After Flores it's flat riding to Guapiles, then on to Cariari.

We want to visit Tortuguero, a national park protecting 22kms of beach where 95% of the world's population of green turtle return to nest. Getting there is a bit of a step into the unknown as the road into this virgin area of rainforest is not marked on our map. We need get to La Pavona to catch a small boat that plies the old logging canals between there and the isolated village of Tortuguero. Eventually we do get some consensus from the locals and set off along 10kms of paved then 20kms of dirt through a maze of banana plantations....

Closer to the sea, the style of houses changes and the lands starts to look more like it's Caribbean brother Belize than Costa Rica. There are brightly painted, rickety wooden huts, often raised above the bitey things of the jungle floor on slender stilts...

The butterflies are stunning....

This one appears to have a futuristic looking helmet shaped head and a bright red tongue....

When we arrive at the boat launch there is bad news - the captain will not take our bikes as his boat is too small. He recommends we lock them to a tree in the bus station car park along with most of our kit and that we carry just a bag each aboard. Hmmm - I can maybe see a problem with just leaving all our kit unattended in the middle of nowhere for 2 or 3 days. We start to consider turning back and the disappointment of a fruitless ride to the Caribbean side of Costa Rica. This was the main reason for taking this route and we're about to waste a few hundred kilometers of riding.

Sad pouty lips and long faces finally have the desired effect though and a boat captain relents and finally lets us on board for a small tip that goes in his back pocket.

It's a slow boat to Tortuguero as the captain picks his way through the debris swept along the canals and rivers. Submerged logs threaten to hole the boat whilst slumbering crocs lie in wait for easy pickings should he err and spill his cargo....

Finally after an hour and a bit we arrive at the dock and are immediately accosted by the 'tour guides'. Life away from the gringo trail means we often forget this side of travel that is a daily nuisance to bus bound backpackers. We avoid the worst of it and set out to find a cheap hostel.

Green turtles nest at night and the area is rigorously controlled - you have to have a guide. We book with 'JJ' a guide staying at our hostel who convinces us of his qualifications and local knowledge. We are to meet at 8pm.

At 6pm we realise his knowledge relates to the local bars in town when he turns up staggering drunk and proceeds to noisily break into his own room with a very large blade. Perhaps the trip is off!

Shortly afterwards a man arrives purporting to be JJ's cousin who will take us with his group at 9:40pm. Dress in dark clothes, cover yourself in insect repellent and absolutely no cameras he warns us. I have seen pictures from other turtle nest sites in Costa Rica so it looks like they are becoming more strict in an effort to not disturb the mother as she lays her eggs. That's to be applauded, but I hate not having a camera to record such a memorable event. So this is the only picture I have of a turtle....

We meet our group and for some reason we are the only ones dressed like ninjas. I guess no one else heard the news about the black clothes and now we feel like we are at the wrong fancy dress party.

We take a half hour ride along the coast by boat taxi with another couple where we're surprised to see the twinkling lights of several expensive looking 'resort' hotels with their fancy restaurants lining up white linen tablecloths to the fine views at the water's edge. Eventually we find ourself in the middle of nowhere with a guide who only grunts – 'Wait here' and disappears for 15 minutes. We're just beginning to think we've been abandoned – the rest of our group are nowhere to be seen having taken a different boat when he returns and gets us to follow towards the beach. It's another surprise when we emerge from dense foliage and step out onto an airport runway seen dimly in the moonlight. That explains how the better class of guests get to the expensive hotels

It's not every day you get to witness a miracle! By the light of a full moon, seeing a 500kg green turtle haul itself from the ocean, crawl laboriously up the beach to nest; before dragging it's weary body back to the water comes pretty close. Every third year or so the females return to the same beach where they were hatched. There they dig a pit into which they lay up to 200 ping pong ball size eggs before covering them over with four immensely strong flippers. Usually they will mate three times in a season and lay first 200 then 100 and finally 50 eggs. Once she begins to lay her eggs we are allowed to approach and watch this amazing sight – before that we stay hidden as turtles are easily spooked and will turn back to the safety of the sea if they see movement. After that, she is incredibly tolerant of us watching, but her pitiful gasps for air on her return leave you feeling helpless and you have to restrain yourself from 'helping' by giving her a push. Once she touches the water, this lumbering beast undergoes a dramatic change as she casts off her heavy clumsiness and powers off into her element.

For the eggs she leaves behind, the odds are not good. In a month they will all hatch on the same night and the lottery can begin. Running the gauntlet of dogs, birds, crabs and hungry fish, 80% will not make it as far as the sea. Abandoned by their parents, more will be eaten before the exhausted newborns can reach their feeding grounds. Less than 1% will make it to 25 years old when they will return to nest and the cycle can begin again.

It's all sobering stuff as we return at 1am. The boat back to La Pavona leaves at 6am so we opt for a lie in and a rest day on this beautiful deserted Caribbean beach....

Exploring the 'town' does not take too long. Main street disappears off into the rainforest after 200m or so and houses on the edge look like they are slowly being reclaimed by vegetation...

An early start next morning sees us catch that return boat which acts like a delivery service to locals who magically emerge from the trees as the boat pulls up at makeshift docks – more just gaps in the mangroves...

Can any one spot a potential problem with that bike seat hanging over the edge?

There's a slight snag as we pull up alongside another boat back in La Pavona and my seat post is bent at a 90° angle as it collides with a steel strut on the other boat - we jerk to an abrupt halt. Unwrapping my bike from around both boats, there is a possibility I won't be riding today. Slightly shamed, the captain attempts to make amends for his poor steering by fixing the problem with a rather indelicate 3 foot length of steel pipe.

He promptly snaps my seat clean off!

All doubts are now gone and I definitely won't be riding today! You have to hand it to the locals though as they all rally round and try to come up with a solution. First they flock round a bus driver - but he refuses to take us explaining there is no room. Costa Rica seems to differ from the rest of Central America in that there are rules and safety concerns. The bus driver does get down from his seat though, leaving a full load of passengers to wait while he moves off to chat to the 'Gasoline Guy'. Eric makes the twice weekly run from Cariari to deliver ten 225 litre barrels of petrol to the Tortuguero village that supplies them with all their energy. He agrees to give us a ride and straps a couple of empties on top of his load to make room for my mangled bike and our kit. Many thanks Eric....

Unfortunately this is a Sunday and the chances of anywhere being open to help fix my dead bike are slim, but incredibly there is a bike shop in Cariari. The second problem is that my seat post is oversize and you can't get a replacement in Costa Rica, so we hit on the solution of welding a smaller post inside a length of the tube I have left from my old seat post. Of course the welder is closed, but luckily the bike shop also have cheap cabins to rent and we are forced to stay overnight to await the welder.

It's been a frustrating start to the trip with stops and starts due to illness and now bike sabotage. Ever the optimist I arrive at the shop when they open at 7am, but being Central America, nothing really happens for a couple of hours so we resign ourselves to another wasted day in Cariari. Finally, my bike does reappear though with a Heath Robinson repair job and we can get cracking again....

Diverse Costa Rica

July 17^th to 20^th

Leaving La Fortuna, the road meanders up and over and around some vivid green rolling hills. It's easy riding; cool under cloudy skies, and Costa Rica in the rainy season is becoming a lovely contrast to the more featureless hot, flat lands of Nicaragua in the dry season.

This area was 'discovered' by Columbus around 1506 who named it Costa Rica (Rich Coast) after seeing the amount of gold jewelry worn by the natives. He then tried, and failed to obtain the governorship of the country when he fell out of favour in the Spanish Royal court. Queen Isabella, his former patron was growing ill and King Ferdinand had other favourites besides Columbus. Later Spanish conquests found the claims of riches to be exaggerated and the country was largely disregarded by Conquistadors who set about enslaving the rest of Central America instead. This all worked in favour of the modern Costa Rica which consequently managed to retain much of it's primary forest. Today the country is replete with exotic habitats and strange wildlife.

As we ride on the cloud lifts and, looking back, we finally get some fine views of Volcan Arenal - puffing smoke as it broods and patiently waits. This is Central America's most active volcano erupting almost continuously - you can even see the red lava glow at night...

Also patient, the hawks scan the long grass for tell-tale movements which could signal an early lunch....

Not only is the wildlife exotic, but the land provides great varieties of fruits as well. There are the usual pineapples, bananas, passion fruits, papayas and melons, but we pull over to stock up on a mid morning snack of 'Pejibayes' and 'Momones'. Pejibayes are a small yellow/red fruit, the size of a ping pong ball that grow in clusters on gnarly wooded stems – like an oversized bunch of grapes. Boiled for an hour, they taste like a cross between a chestnut and a sweet potato and are totally delicious. Momones just look odd! Peeled they are like a sticky gumball of chewy grape-ness and are quite addictive....

All very pleasant; but then we pass 'Florencia' and find that Costa Rica is also famous for it's disregard of steep gradients. Road builders will often take the snaky, meandering route when it suits them, but sometimes they just get an evil glint in their eye and just plough straight on with no allowances for sanity. Florencia to San Carlos is lung bustingly steep and really sorts the men from the boys. Hitting it in the heat of mid afternoon really tests a cycle tourist's metal. We take a well earned breather to catch our breath and let our racing hearts be still when suddenly an odd thing happens....

A man is calmly toiling up the hill carrying a tree trunk, maybe 15 feet long. It looks like hard work! A police car passes us by and stops at the roadside maybe 100m away. The man with the tree sees the police, drops his log, walks on past us and then stops. He seems to consider for a minute, then turns and sprints full pelt directly towards us....

I'm just beginning to get tense....

but he races on past us, down the hill and disappears.

The police car slowly drives off in the opposite direction.

It just all seemed a bit odd at the time.

I don't think anyone really considered how the tree trunk was affected.

Anyway just as we reach the top of the climb, the heavens open again and we are drenched in cool rain. Funny how in Central America, the best views always seem to be taken by shanty huts or wooden shacks with tin roofs. This one just seems to be throwing down a gauntlet and challenging the powers of gravity on it's spindly stilts....

We finally make it to the top of what must approach 20 percent gradients in places, and take a rest day in San Carlos.

Checking the map reveals the reason for the extreme road - it was heading directly up the side of Volcan Porvenir which, in about 10 kilometres, climbs from 250m (800ft) up to 2183m (7200ft). Fortunately for us, after San Carlos, the road dog legs by 90 degrees and we skirt the base of this huge volcano.

These are the back roads now, miles away from the carnage of the Pan-American Highway and it's more gorgeous riding in this emerald land past fan palms looking back to the volcano and the 3000m (10,000ft) peaks of he Cordillera Central....

Like I said before, you're never far away from other diners on a lunch break and today is no exception....

I'd rather have my tuna fish sandwiches than what this guy is eating, but he's a nasty looking fellow with a big red spike on his back....

Not all the wild life looks so deadly though. Bright crimson flashes in the trees draw your attention to the beautiful plumage of the birds....

This is a variety of 'Tanager' and when he takes to the wing, the whole area across his back is that bright scarlet colour.

We stop for a water break, which just happens to be outside a locked gateway and a few minutes later a woman and a young boy appear to ask if we were waiting to come in. We're a bit bemused, but also curious so we follow them in as they swing the large gates aside. What follows is a short tour conducted by Joseph and his sister Amelia. Joseph is about ten years old going on forty and has grandiose, adult mannerisms as he walks us to the river past his lemon trees and painted animal statues of deer and zebra. He even puts his hands behind his back as he strolls! There is the ancient butterfly house, now sadly empty plus secret gardens hidden away behind dense foliage. This place must have been amazing in it's heyday; now it is slowly being reclaimed by the jungle, but there is still an old basketball court with seating for many, plus a covered BBQ area with lawns and flower gardens of fabulous orchids....

It's the kind of thing that just seems to happen occasionally – small, totally unexpected diversions. Joseph and Amelia treat us like old friends and we can't leave until we have met the rest of the family consisting of several generations and Joseph has thoroughly embarrassed me at one-on-one football.

We hole up near La Virgen in our best accommodation bargain so far in CR – a private cabin for just $8. Normally rooms here have been quite expensive by Central American standards, up to $20 for a basic place....

The day dawns sunny and bright and it's already sweltering when we hit the road. Fortunately we are heading back towards the coast and away from the central mountain chains, so the land here is flat. Originally we had planned to ride through the mountains for the spectacular scenery, but that was before we lost so much time. Now, deep in the wet season, those scenic views are no more as the world is hidden under dense fog and cloud, and the storms are even more ferocious than here. So, after a change of plans we're taking the road along the Caribbean coast and that means crossing a series of huge river bridges as we traverse the huge drainage basin for all those mountain storms.

It's amazing after the amount of rain we have seen that these rivers are not even close to full yet....

But when you consider just how dense the rain forest is, and how many thirsty roots there are slurping away at the wet ground, it just takes months for the ground to get sodden enough for the bigger watercourses to fill up again.

At the small village of Flores we find another bargain - $12 for a very private riverside cabin directly overlooking the River Chirripo. I'm just jokingly telling Sue how disappointed I am that I haven't seen a Toucan yet and that we're not leaving Costa Rica until we do - when one suddenly appears in the tree directly opposite our balcony - just as I am picking up my camera and long lens....

ANOTHER GOTCHA.... A 'Keel Billed Toucan'

The timing is even better as he takes flight ahead of the storm clouds that roll in once more and the river gains another little inch or two....