November 18th to 30th

I just couldn't be more relieved!!

This is not what I was expecting in Colombia, the standard of dentistry is amazing here - if you have the money to pay for it that is! Dentistry is private and there are a range of services available to suit all budgets. Not all of them look quite like this. I was also not expecting Marinella (our hotel receptionist) to come in 3 hours before her shift starts to personally accompany us to her own dentist to help fill out the forms and explain the situation. Many thanks go to her. The third thing I did not expect was the look of horror on the dentist's face as she began her examination....

This could be worse than I thought!

But it's not the treatment required that has her in shock; more the quality of previous treatment. She's very diplomatic, but I manage to tease out of her the fact that she is really very unimpressed with the standard of British dentistry. Some of the materials - like the mercury I have in my face were banned in Colombia 15 years ago. Furthermore she is curious as to why a couple of broken teeth I have are untreated. My NHS dentist refused to touch them saying 'nothing to worry about'. Worse is the fact that an X-ray reveals parts of broken tools left in another tooth after a root canal back home. Indeed the infection that now has me in agony is down to a botched repair job on a broken crown.

Turns out I need a weeks course of antibiotics injected under the tooth before I can have two root canals followed by two new crowns. Lucky me! It also turns out that in contrast to the 'jack-of-all-trades' dentists back home, here in Colombia everyone specialises. Marinella's dentist refers me to a specialist for the root canals and I will see another specialist for the crowns. The downside is that it looks like we will be staying in Popayan for a bit longer than expected.

It's not all bad - Popayan is a nice place to while away a bit of time. Iglesia Ermita on the hill was originally built in 1546...

Popayan is a fastidiously well maintained old colonial town with any number of whitewashed historical buildings and imposing churches....

Many impressive municipal buildings have amazing gardens in open courtyards....

At 1800m (6,000ft) the temperature is near perfect, but most importantly Popayan was declared a UNESCO city of gastronomy! The food and restaurants here are amazing. It would all be perfect, but for people insisting of sticking needles in my face.... and the incessant rains....

After four trips to various dentists, it's time for a break. I need a week for antibiotics to weave their magic so we decide to head over the mountains for a side trip to San Agustin. The ride involves a 3200m (10,600ft) pass over the Cordillera Central on a rocky road through Volcan Purace National Park. It also passes through the last stronghold of 'FARC', Colombia's notorious People's Army who make occasional guerilla raids throughout the area. With slight trepidation we head to the hills....

The first 28kms are mercifully paved as we begin the climb to 'Coconuco' through a series of steep climbs and sweeping descents through dense pine and eucalyptus....

The plan is to relax in the hot volcanic thermal baths set against a mountain backdrop but once again the day ends in deluge. Plans change and we settle for a cold shower and some Colombian TV. True to form, the next day is damp and drizzly but it's difficult to be too despondent as the scenery improves a notch or two, steep cliffs draped by waterfalls....

After Coconuco the Tarmac ends and the fun starts. Weeks of endless rain have turned what should be a hard packed dirt road to a quagmire that slurps at our tyres like sticky brown glue. The going is incredibly tough and it pays to stop and scrape a few pounds of clay-like gloop off the tyres every mile or so....

Once we enter the narrow mouth of the Cauca valley the gradient steepens and it's not just us struggling on the slippery surface. The road is totally blocked by two cement lorries heading for a quarry in 'Palatara'....

The one on the right is lodged against the earth bank at the roadside and leans at an alarming angle. There is real concern that the sodden ground will give way and it will crash down to the valley floor 200 metres below. The second wagon attaches a thick chain to try and haul it's stricken partner free, but only serves to polish the dirt floor as it's smoking tyres spin and gain no traction. At one point both become stuck and there is no room for even a couple of bikes to pass. We lose over an hour whilst one truck slowly inches itself free. The other is just abandoned on the hillside.

Rounding a corner we see another wagon overloaded with human cargo sink it's wheels into the soft rut on a cambered bend. It's outside wheels lift briefly and the whole thing threatens to topple as people jump free just in time to restore balance....

We are starting to have our doubts about this road as we climb out of the valley leaving stranded vehicles behind....

In distance we manage just 20kms, in altitude it's well over a thousand metres for the day when we roll, cold and exhausted in the freezing rain into Paletara; a small village centred round it's cement quarry. Strangely the woman in the restaurant cum guesthouse tells us there are no beds available despite the truckers outside assuring us there is room. Confused we make our way to an old outhouse that will rent us a hard wooden pallet in a communal room for the princely sum of US$2. The chickens that strut in and out of our room plus the burnt out bus in front are an added bonus! Fortunately there are no other guests - but there is one little helper who helps me prepare hot tea to stave off the chill....

It's a surprisingly cold night. We are at around 3000 metres (10,000ft) and breath is clear on the air as we wake to a misty morning....

Amazingly the mist burns off in a warm sun and we see our first blue sky in about two months. It's like somebody just came and switched the lights on and the landscape changes before our very eyes. All of Colombia has looked stunning, but there is such a transformation in direct sunlight. Suddenly there is shadow and there are little pockets of darkness nestled in the earth's folds. The whole landscape pops dramatically into three dimensions. It's been so long since we've seen it, it's a lovely surprise and we are rewarded with some clear views of Vulcan Purace's majestic cone....

High up on the 'Paramo' (high altitude grass lands) the road levels off and finally tops out. Our speed picks up, and now we dance our tyres between deep, water filled pot holes. This unusual habitat is densely populated by low bush, grasses and a strange flower found only here and parts of Northern Ecuador. The 'Frailejone' is a relation of the daisy - sort of a giant mutant cousin or something and thousands of them clump in waterlogged fields as far as the eye can see....

The day's ride is just a joy, blessed as we are with good weather - a real bonus at this altitude. We see maybe half a dozen cars and next to no people - it's the way cycle touring is supposed to be; just us, the bicis, some incredible landscapes, strange vegetation and a challenging road....

We do catch several glimpses of army encampments in amongst the bush though - evidence of the ongoing guerilla war taking place behind this placid Arcadian scene.

We drop short and overnight in some slightly less 'interesting' accommodation before taking the final leg into San Agustin, once more under grey skies. After our huge climb, we enjoy 60kms bumping and bouncing our way downhill through the rain, with the last part back on smooth, smooth Tarmac. A final sting in the tail is the steep climb up above the Magdelena River into town....

San Agustin is a UNESCO world heritage site of a little understood pre-Colombian tribe whose legacy was a series of burial sites decorated with carved megalithic sculptures. With time to kill before my next encounter with a needle and a drill we're off to explore some ancient culture....

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....

Lago Arenal

July 11^th to 16^th

The first couple of days riding in Costa Rica is fairly dull. The terrain is totally flat and uninspiring which is a real boon to us! We can now get some easy miles in and toughen up both the legs and our tender nether regions after our long break.

In stark contrast to the cerulean skies of the dry season, we ride beneath a slate roof – heavy black clouds that look ominous and heavy. Without warning, the wind can whip up from nowhere and the clouds burst, smashing heavy water droplets on to the road surface. They rebound in a fine spray above the Tarmac before settling back to help form temporary rivers. We are constantly drenched and nothing dries out in the humid air. Each morning, we pull on still-damp riding gear that is slowly taking on the nasty odour of wet rot and we have to try and keep our distance when talking to locals.

In Liberia, we stop to admire a particularly violent storm....

Thunder detonates like a shell directly overhead and simultaneously from several directions at once. It's like a scene from a World War II blitzkrieg attack – without all the damage of course. Lightning is constant; a strobe light that flickers on and off drawing the eye here and there, trying to track the jagged forks of brilliance as they live and die in an instant. The ground is waterlogged in seconds and thereafter turns to liquid.

The roof of our hotel is no match for the battering and we wake up with an inch of water on the stone floor of our room. All our kit is soaked and we take a day to try and dry out – after moving to another room that is.

Riding through Canas, we turn towards Arenal Lake and our first real test as the land rises steeply into the Tilaran Range of mountains. Our mileage drops to a new tour low – 22kms to Tilaran one day, followed by 32kms to Nuevo Arenal the next as gradients approach the ridiculous. It's nice however to leave the flatlands behind and the scenery improves dramatically.

This is cattle country and the pastureland is so rich and green....

In the distance we spot what looks like the finest water park invented by man – a 75 metre helter-skelter ride dropping into a 200m pipe that zooms down the hillside.

Rather boringly as we get closer it turns out to be part of a hydroelectric plant. Lake Arenal is man-made, created by the cool sounding 'ICE' company (Costa Rica's power company) who flooded a couple of villages; Arenal and Tonadora (presumably after moving the people out) to create a water and power supply.

After climbing for what seemed like a leg burning eternity we drop back down and catch our first views of Costa Rica's famous beauty spot, Lake Arenal...

The lake varies from 100 to 200 feet deep depending on rainfall and the crocs mean swimming is not recommended.

Unfortunately it's close to our last view as a storm suddenly blows in and stinging rain takes our visibility down to nothing.

Leaving Nuevo Arenal the next day skies are clearer. After Honduras and Nicaragua, the well tended entranceways to hidden lake retreats come as a bit of a surprise. There is money here! Many Americans have holiday homes around the lake, but there are also a number of excellent five star luxury spa hotels here as well. We haven't seen uniformed valets around immaculately tended and manicured gardens since I can't remember when and it's all very un-Central American. I don't think we can afford to stop so we head on before we lower the tone!

Suddenly the hotels are no more, the neat lawns are past and deep jungle encroaches right up to the road again....

You have to be careful taking water breaks – this guy was eyeing the catch of the day in his giant web literally a metre a way from where we sat...

All the wet jungle is starting to take it's toll on us! Bites and stings are a constant nuisance and for a change I am rejected, Sue being judged a far more tasty treat. For every bite I receive, she seems to get 30 and after a particularly bad chomping her face swells up like a prize fighters after a grudge match that goes the distance. A row of bites along her forehead threatens to close her eye entirely and the bridge of her nose is more Golden Gate than aquiline.

Being the sympathetic type, I just can't resist humming the theme tune to 'Rocky' and getting her to re-enact a couple of scenes. Suzy is not amused!

Sadly it begins to pour again and the spectacular views of the majestic 1700m cone of Arenal Volcano behind the lake are shrouded in low cloud.

The lake is still stunning in an angry brooding sort of way....

Then, for but a second the veil is lifted and the grey spectre of a volcano briefly materialises....

We hole up in 'La Fortuna', base to a thousand tourists in search of high adrenaline adventure. Every other building is a hostel and hundreds of operators compete to entice travellers onto their tour buses....

It's a pretty little town backdropped by a picture perfect volcanic cone, unfortunately spoiled by it's soulless pursuit of the tourist dollar.

In it's favour though, we do discover 'Chan' here.

Tiny black seeds soaked overnight in sugar water produce a frog spawn like gloop with a texture to match. It's a bit like wall-paper paste with bits of grit added in and the whole thing wobbles when you shake the glass....

Costa Ricans (Ticos) drink it by the bucket load and swear by it's ability to cure any stomach complaint. Despite appearances, it tastes absolutely delicious!

And finally.... finally; after a quest that started way, way back in Mexico – I, at last get a half decent shot of that demon species that is called 'hummingbird'. I know not why this one failed to teleport away from the camera lens in time – maybe it is damaged in some way, maybe they just don't work properly in the rain - wet circuitry all shorting out or something? I know it's not the best photograph ever – but it is still a personal triumph....

GOTCHA....

A Change Of Plans

April 23 to...

Ometepe Island resembles a dumbbell in that it is two giant volcanic cones joined together by a narrow strip of land. We leave Moyagalpa on Conception Volcano heading to Merida on the other cone of Maderas Volcano.

The road around Conception is paved and it's an easy 20 kilometers to the turn off, whereupon the tarmac ends and it's a rough ride across the isthmus. Rocks in the road are big enough to stand the bike up for a photo op....

Where the lands sweeps down to meet the sea there are some great beaches of soft golden sand. Fronted by palm topped palapas with the impressive 1400 metre cone in the background it's a memorable setting for a lunch stop...

Behind us there is a midden pile where all the local hotels throw away their food waste and white faced capuchin monkeys squabble noisily over scraps. I can almost hear the "Mission Impossible" theme tune playing as this one runs the tightrope back to the trees....

It's hard to believe that after another road juncton at Santa Cruz, the road gets even worse....

It's one of the worst surfaces I've ever picked my way through. Always terrible - it varies between nasty rock to tyre sucking sand which stops the bikes dead. Riders don't always stop so fast and we are often thrown overboard. Fortunately it's a soft landing, but slick with sweat we become covered in grit and sand and it's slow going. Even the buses struggle on this route, often taking 4 hours to cover just 40 kms (25 miles)....

It takes us 5 tough hours.

Next day we head out to hike up to the San Ramon waterfalls. It's about a four hour trek that takes us roughly half way up the Maderas Volcano, so it's a good dry run to take on the full thing. Midday temperatures are as ever in the billions, so we set off at dawn to hopefully get most of the climb out of the way in the cool part of the day. It's a good decision as the path is really steep in places as if passes through an ecological research centre and up the mountain side.

Unfortunately views are limited through thick vegetation, but the glimpses you do get of the lake and mainland are spectacular.

Then, just as the heat is getting seriously oppressive the tree cover opens up as we reach the 40m cascade...

Actually "cascade" is a little generous; this being the end of the dry season. However, despite 6 months with no rain, there is still some water. More importantly there is a small pool at the foot of the falls that is crystal clear and fabulously cool for swimming in.

After the descent and whilst picking up some emails, we get some bad news about Sue's father. A frantic phone call home reveals the worst and we are suddenly making arrangements to leave the island and book return flights. It's a Sunday afternoon and the last ferry leaves the other side of the island in just 90 minutes. We dash back to our hotel and hastily make arrangements to dump the bikes and kit with the the owner, pack a bag and get to the boat jetty in less than an hour. Fortunately there is a speed boat there and we manage to get a ride to the ferry port.

Arriving just as the ferry is finishing loading and preparing to leave, we pull up alongside and climb from the roof of the speed boat through a hatch on the side of the ferry.

We just made it!

It takes us a couple of days to get a flight after the problems with volcanic ash from an eruption in Iceland and we arrive home on Wednesday morning. It's a devastating blow to hear her father passed away in the night and that we were just too late to see him. He was 83.

Ivor had been ill off and off for a long time and we were always travelling with the spectre of this news in the background. In the end he was taken to hospital with what was thought to be a 'routine urine infection' but he was found to have internal bleeding that couldn't be stopped. He passed peacefully in the night.

Ivor was a man you would describe as a 'True Gentleman'. In a world where that term is bandied about with little regard, it is good to have known the man for whom the expression was truly meant. Ivor was a gentleman and a man I am proud to have known - he is sadly missed.

It was hard for us both to have arrived home just too late to say goodbye, but Sue and I can look back on the four months we spent over Christmas with her dad when he was in better health and on good form....

This is a better way to remember him.

We have spent the last 2 months back in Britain with family and friends especially with Sue's mother Sal who is slowly coming to terms with her loss.

We are now heading back to Nicaragua to pick up the bikes and resume our tour into South America. It's always tough to leave family behind and that is especially true now. It is a tough decision, but then starting the trip in the first place was a tough decision as well. There are always reasons to delay, to put off and not to do what part of you needs to do, and there is never a 'right time'. Sometimes you just have to go - and then be flexible enough to about-face and head home when needed.

As ever - life goes on.....