Onwards

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We left Granada on 22^nd September after having a nice chat with an American guy who had lived there for 15 years . He was a cheery chap who, having heard that we were going to Columbia, proceeded to tell us of a biker who had gone there 9 years ago and had been kidnapped, tortured and beaten and held for 6 months. We have now got very good at listening very patiently to this type of doom and gloom merchant and then giving it no further consideration. The ride from Granada to San Juan was lovely apart from when we were stopped at a police check point and the policeman got into a bit of a stress about our paperwork. We couldn't understand him so he got his colleague involved and he just waved us through. We stayed in a hotel with a room overlooking the Pacific, ate in a beach restaurant watching crabs racing along the beach and witnessed yet another thunderstorm just on the horizon.

We started our search for somewhere nice to live and found a house for sale for around £70k – the first of many properties that will try to entice us to live in warmer climates. The people in San Juan were very chilled and relaxed.

We got to the border very early the following day and discovered why the policeman had been so excited. The customs form we had been given was for one day only and we had overstayed our permit. It got sorted out very quickly as it seems they are never given for just a day and it should have been one month. I really enjoyed the ride on the coastal road, the jungle and plantations, the little stalls at the side of the road selling colourful clothes and an abundance of fruit. It was all very beautiful and was looking very tropical. Costa Rica is a very picturesque country but also very expensive, especially on the coast which is very popular with surfers. After looking at several hotels in Jaco, all out of our price range, we eventually found a place on the beach that was being renovated so the room rates were greatly reduced.

The storm we witnessed that night was spectacular with lightening illuminating the ocean and the tropical foliage around the hotel. The young girl, Celia, that served in the restaurant was fascinated by the shed and had lots of questions. She rode a little 200cc bike which looked like a toy next to the shed.

The Panama border crossing was much easier and Brian did it all independently. The helpers that were scattered around were exactly that – helpers not hasslers. The shed had to be fumigated for what we aren't sure but for which we had to pay a dollar and received a certificate to be shown at police checkpoints. Initially we thought we would stop off in David but this was such a short ride we thought we'd carry on. Unfortunately we didn't come across any other towns with nice hotels so we eventually ended up in Santiago which is an industrial town with few hotels. Well, hotels were would have dared to stay in. We had seen one on the way in so back tracked a bit a stayed in a very, very bright and cheerful hotel called Le Hacienda. In the morning we went to Panama city, eventually found signs for the airport and started to look for the hostel that John, a friend of ours, had stayed in. We rode all around the area unable to find it and both of us commenting that the airport didn't look like a big international airport we were expecting. I memorized the name of the airport so we could confirm if this was the correct one later. We eventually stayed at another expensive hotel to take stock and check the internet. Here we discovered that despite all of Brian's planning and researching the previous night he had neglected to find out the name of the airport we would be flying from. We were at the wrong airport at the wrong side of the city but the plus side was that we had fish fingers and chips for tea and met Jose Mata, a friendly guy from Venezuela who told us of some places to visit in Columbia. He made a real fuss of us, it was lovely.

Brian did really well the next day, riding across the city and finding Tocomen airport, across the road, exactly as John had said, we found the hostel. It was very basic but clean and very cheap. Again there was not hot water in the rooms and only basic Spanish TV. The staff were friendly and helpful. They did all our laundry free of charge which was very brave of them. The humidity in this part of Central America is incredible and believe me, we stink, our clothes stink and our biking gear ....... well, I'll save you that unpleasant description. Because there were no cooking facilities or Internet access we had to go over the the airport every morning for breakfast and to check emails. All part of the adventure. A Canadian guy called John arrived at the hostel and decided to stay there with us to try and get on the same flight as us to Columbia.

The Globebusters were due to arrive in Panama on Monday 28^th September and we were to meet them in the evening to make final arrangements for flying the shed out to Bogota with them. During the day we went to the Panama Canal. John took the lead through the city explaining that he preferred to not do the toll road. Of course we hit the early morning rush, and eventually got lost.

Panama City is a real contradictory place. It has some very beautiful, gleaming and clean buildings and areas but is filled to bursting with filthy diesel buses and trucks which cough out thick black smoke. Not nice to breath in and eventually covers your clothing and skin with black greasy soot. All we wanted to do then was get out of the center. Brian found the way out very easily and we got to the lock just in time to see the last ship sailing away.

The next one through was not until 3pm some 6 hours later. We took a few snaps and went back to the hostel to get ready for meeting the Globebusters in their very posh hotel in the city. Roddy, the guy we met from James Cargo was there and it was lovely to see him again. It seems he has been following our blogs which is nice. I got chatting to Lorraine and Edwin who were on the tour and live near Middlesbrough. They are very well travelled and friendly people. When we had the details about the flight etc, Brian, John and myself went into the city to eat (which made a change from eating at the airport) and then got a taxi back to the hostel. What a ride! I couldn't stop laughing at Brian's facial expressions. His complete and utter disbelief at what was happening. The taxi was crabbing all the time and we were often on the wrong side of the road. The driver asked for money for petrol, then money for the tolls. He started chatting on his mobile phone, had no idea about the speed limit, but eventually got us back to base safe and well and all in one piece. A bit of a surprise to all of us.

I'll blog about leaving Panama when we reach the next internet access point which is actually prooving to be more difficuolt than we had imagined.