We leave our beautiful Rose Maria behind at the Hostel of Roses and cycle out into a grey rain forrest. The air is damp and cold but supports some impressive oversize vegetation.
And the horseshoe curse hits Michael again as he investigates that squeak that´s been bothering us for 10km - only to find it´s one side of his rear pannier rack rubbing against his frame. Bad news, the bolts have sheared off.
We call an early end to a good days riding to kill 60kms of sticky ripio and make a damp camp outside Villa Santa Lucia, on a river. I get a fire going whilst Michael goes to catch the whopper for dinner. It´s obviously not his day, when he snaps his fishing line and loses weight and fly. He takes mine and returns with a huge curse, a huge tangle of line and no huge whopper.
We eat pasta instead... Again.