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283-286 J / No smoke without fire

Wake in house Ita and Tim at the bottom of a small unpaved dead end of Chimaltenango. Flat-roofed house that probably awaits an additional floor, iron rods sticking out of walls of concrete block uncoated, shower at the back of the court, Laetitia can finally take a shower with hot water. A typical house in the region, country and undoubtedly the continent. Ita spent a good sweep to remove rainwater stagnating on the cement court and the opportunity to bring us the sun. This town is nothing exciting, except that it is close to the historic capital Antigua, Guatemala City and political capital that it is crossed by road PanAmericas year which begins in Alaska Finally in the forest Darién in Panama. What is most interesting about this city, it is the workers, the daily lives of people see a city far from needy sirens tourism that mask the dull sound of ordinary life. But otherwise we go to Antigua with Tim and his incredible yellow car: a sports coupe. In passing we make a detour to San Andres Itzapa. Parked, Tim takes us on a small sloping street where vendors lucky set up their stalls. It includes everything from herbs, small folded paper, alcohol bottles without labels, seeds, small statuettes to smoking. We arrive at the street corner, Tim takes us into the courtyard of a house where a dense white smoke escapes. On the doorstep we understand the situation quickly. A dozen people are agitated within throwing grass fires on the ground, while others are on their knees chanting some obscure songs and incantations. At bottom right installed on a flight of stairs two "Mariachi" played before a large door which seems to drive most people. Inside the atmosphere up another notch. People are lining up to worship a statue and receive the blessing of the priest. Tim gives us some information: the statue is Machimon, any Latino representation of Saint-Simon, mustache and cigarette in his mouth. The priest, dressed as everyday people gives blessings with a vengeance, beating people with large tufts of grass before drinking a shot of brandy and spit them all on the parties duly smoothies: top of the head, shoulders back and he connects these blessings without stopping. We are here far from the Mass in Latin, some of our churches. Here is where God meets the Devil, that the meeting because the passion and do it none the worse! Starting again we buy some souvenirs to merchants from the temple by lying there and back in car Antigua, Guatemala's colonial gem. We address a coffee factory, but is now closed. We left the car near the market, go eat a piece in the Pollo Campero in the area. This fast- food KFC atmosphere but 100% of Guatemala is the Latin American response to the giant Catholic Protestant North, and it works. In our fast-food e st synonymous with fast food and cheap, here is the opposite: it is expensive compared to what one can find in the street and it becomes almost an output valued to go spend money in there, and is also a sign of success to work. Full stomach we leave we lose in the streets of this ancient city planning rectangular. Cobbled streets, colonnaded houses in two or three floors, many buildings bear the scars of the earthquake of 1773. Besides, it's probably why the city has lost its function as capital. In passing we take some information to visit an active volcano about an hour from here and as a result we go to the next early morning.

The evening we spend an evening of fun to the delight of Tim, who can finally show me his Heroes Click. We discover how he is fascinated by these figures representing superheroes avatars of our modern gods. We settle on a full stomach around the game board and each team is its super-hero and the battle begins. I quickly found that Tim is more interested in the collection side of personnaages by the strategy. The finished part, we chat and Tim tells us he spent much of his childhood holidays in a small village two hours away. And since he returned to settle in the country has resumed contact with them and open a class to teach English to children. Parents who have a minimum of money trying to push their kids to learn English because maybe one day they will try to go to the U.S. to work and earn some more money here. The passage is using smugglers named Coyote. Tim suggested we go with him to the village to spend two days and visited "The Village" he tells us that there are also coffee plantations. It does not take us more for the deal.

In the morning we take a good breakfast for parents of Ita, grilled bananas, cookies, juice, coffee. We visit the incredible house where tropical plants emerge from everywhere, huge cages occupied by birds of all sizes. The eyes and stomach filled we take the bus to Antigua to find our group and start the attack on the volcano. A stroll in town, you break a seed and 13 hours before we post our agency wisely and look in the rain. The rain stopped and a young woman joins us and takes us to a van already packed with tourists that we welcome only when we climb. The guide joins us and we leave. An hour away and we approach the flanks of the volcano, sharp turns, mud and stones. Twenty minutes of this treatment and we come to the park entrance. We are not alone, there is already a good herd tourists ready to climb the volcano to go to warm their hands at the source. No sooner we put the foot down a bunch of kids we alpague to sell us stick and marshmallow. Once the price reaches the stick more reasonable prices we buy two. The stick is to facilitate the ascent of the volcano and marshmallows to roast it over the washing up once. Direction the dug where we buy our tickets We meet by chance, which should no longer be one, Kalen and Jason who are also adventure. Since our paths are separated in Panama, it is still three times that we encounter "by chance" the English couple with whom we had made the crossing by boat from Cartagena to Panama. The exchange is brief, as their group leaves immediately, ours is still a good ten minutes to implement. An hour through the forest with the taxi-natural trying to motivate the side shots of our group for the horse to climb and it works! The trees disappear, then vegetation and finally the earth itself, all that remains now only dust and black pebbles. Before us a cliff. From its summit we can a lunar landscape, a lava flow solidified matte black. We here at the power of nature. We walk along the slope and come to this solid magma. In some minutes we walk on it a few days ago, a few hours was the magma. We see beneath the crust hardened rivers of lava flowing. We feel the warmth of the land going back with our shoes off a tongue of fire out of earth above a chimney of magma solidified our business as the guardian of hell, hardly do we have the time to arrive at the river of magma as the rain returns, more and stronger causing immediate contact with the lava clouds of sulfurous steam in addition the wind that brings clouds. Gradually our field of vision narrows and plunges us into a parallel world which may arise from some Mayan spirits take revenge. But fortunately our guide is there for us and squeeze us from the clutches of our imagination and take us away from these mists where it would be easy to get lost and accidentally walking on a patch of lava that could crack under our careless and we offer a one-way ticket to hell. Back to reality rain. My eyes begin to bite me, scratch me. One of the least harmful effects of evaporation and sulfur hell of the volcano. Soon we return to our starting point pressed by the rain and night. Downstairs we change quickly to put some warm clothes, guys from our tour group offers a basket of hot fries, a nice little happiness. We ship still shivering in the van and us get to Antigua. Here we will wait over an hour Ita brings us back to the house for a good meal and a hot shower.

Tomorrow direction of the village Tim, two hours of track here.

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282-284 J / Link Tikal-Chimaltenango

After the ruins, we continue our exploration to one side over nature and ourselves into the caves of Raxruha which form one of the largest mazes in the world. Dozens of miles of maze of underground rivers that form during the rainy season.

Midi we expect the bus to Flores from collective, but we were either misinformed, or we're late. Bus there is none. Next two hours. We are laying the bags in the shade and we place ourselves under the tree. A man comes to meet us and we offer a tourist minibus at a price. We thank him and we return to the shade tree for our new s a smoke. Time to finish the guy comes back and offers us a price p beaucou more reasonable. The time to mount the bags on the porch of the van and we leave for Flores, friendly little town situated on a small almost island. One hour drive in pouring rain, arriving with no address we follow a reel to a hotel protecting us from the rain as we can. The c hambre is not great, but for one night it will be fine, man the opportunity to sell us two tickets to Raxruha for the next day, we discuss the price and conclude the case. We're going to explore this tiny village, we need a good half hour to walk around, e t taking breaks to protect from showers. And this time gives us the opportunity to find Kalen and Jason, met our British friends on the boat to Panama, who also decided to ask for the night in Flores. C. Acun is housed appointment early evening to eat together. At night we find them and put a long time to find a restaurant , despite the smallness of the town, which is both pleasant and our prices because they are like us and are beginning to realize that the stock market travel is far from inexhaustible. Result a great night to tell our days.
The next day on the floor of the hotel we are waiting for the minibus that we should seek to take us to Raxruha. A good half-hour waiting and now the mini-bus arrives, already full of tourists. Aboard a small hello general remains unanswered. Welcome to the Western world. There is little doubt that we have not already paid the local price for this race.
All the way from behind our neighbor and his neighbor talk ... to the tune of "Oh my god" Jesus "" You know "he was missing was the slamming of chewing gum that I look back and sends the only word I know in English "Shut up". Crossing the river on a ferry , an hour later we landed at a gas station where we catch a pick-up that asks us to Raxruha. Rutted and muddy road, low houses, roofs of jail, aggressive dog. We put our business in a seedy hotel, we will eat in a diner just as bad "pollo, frijoles" accompanied by tortillas little better. Then we go in search of our caves that we struggle to be between the directions of our guide, map and directions premises. We put a little time to catch a car that wants to take us to the supposed place where we should s find the site. In the corner nobody knows. We finally turn around and walk hoping that a car passes by then, it will take a good hour before a pick-up tears us away from this track. It's 6 o'clock at night and falls as rain, luckily we are now safe. A good shower to get rid of this horrible smell of sweat with me for some months. We are clean, ready to go "dinner city." We make a round trip on the main road, we will find a restaurant diner large-format, garish light, for once no TV, just the sound of a barely audible radio. We used an old meat served with beans Ladle, sitting on our bench, elbows on the tablecloth No us ship the meal.
The next e n curly ons our bags, talking with Taulier sitting at his TV in the corridor, we will tell our search yesterday and he told us that there are other caves, and we just have to take a small bus and we do drop height of 30 kilometers. We'll take our little cafe in the tavern of hi first day which is more attractive at night. The van drops us off at km 30, a small bungalow two young Mayan awaiting the tourist. The ticket includes the guide under 16 years who accompanies us to the cave by a trail ball ized while asking us questions about life at home and on our wages, and especially on our wages ... it makes it understand that the message has been registered and is entitled to his pourliche. We walk along a road on foot cliff in the shade of trees and after half an hour we stop sweating Ivonne. The trail descends into a huge tro u and a few meters, we find ourselves in the cool of a huge cave that envelops us with 20 meters in height. The young guide explains the role of this cave in Maya rites. We can not push us much more in the grot you in this rainy season, pity because the labyrinth stretches for several kilometers.
We return to the village, we get our business to the hotel and take a bus to Coban, where we have to make a change o p Rabinal where we should stay overnight before heading back to Chimaltenango and return Tim and Ita young couple that we had crossed a few months ago in Zanzibar.
Just before dark we arrive in the small town of Rabinal. We have to wait an hour in the bus station the rain stops. Not a little rain, but something lic bib, which transforms streets into rivers in seconds and carries into the river everything that people swinging in the streets. People with whom we met during the trip we suggest a hotel. P luie not decreasing we start looking for him. Time to find we are fully soaked. We dry it and start looking for a place to eat. A Rabinal not a tourist, not a restaurant for foreigners, and anyway we do not find a single place to eat. If there had been no good fries we found on one of the market stalls in the vain hope of finding a restaurant would have been quite embarrassed as the food that we end up finding is bad. The next day we walk quickly to the market is indeed a special day dedicated to a saint of some kind. Result procession outside the church, singing, music and dance. The four co ins instead there are musicians who play the xylophone with shelter from rain possible. Before them people come to lay flowers.
We do not hang out too much because we have a bus to take and even if there are only 100 km up Chimaltenango in this mountainous region and the path we're going to take, we're playing the card of caution. Despite this, we lack a few minutes the bus, coming tomorrow. We ask to leave the village and stop the clap. A car every ten minutes. A e maid half hour and a pick-up tears us Rabinal. But it does not settle far, barely a dozen miles . Here we are a good hour sitting on our rock and hope that at least one car will pass before the rain starts to fall. The second will be good. Another short hop. After three hour stop, we have hardly advanced 30 terminals. We remain stuck in another village two hours to play marbles with kids history of bringing the cars. We rejoi fungi asphalt and finally a city of respectable size, with a grandpa and his old 4x4. Hence we find buses, pickup and another bus to 20 hours we finally arrived in Chimaltenango . It's raining, it got dark, the town has nothing romantic. We find a phone and call Tim and Ita asking for clarification. They give us the latest information we assemble in a Tuc Tuc which puts the final kilometers on the Panamericana through the town towards the United States to the north.
The Tuc tuc stops and we see the head of Tim who walks through the door. We arrived after traveling for 12 hours only 100 km via 11 vehicles: Pick-up bus, 4x4, sedan and a Tuc Tuc to finish.

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275-281 J / Tourists in the Maya

The night the lights of civilization marching, we arrived at Tegucigalpa. The bus stops. Erik Will there? We take our pouches and descend. "Hey guys, what's up?" It is always nice to be greeted at the exit of a bus, it was long it does not happen. We jump in a cab to his hotel. This is not the smartest nor the most ugly. We only stay one night then it will be fine. Not a shop to open, we headed to a gas station to eat. On the menu, burgers of the most basic, soda will. No doubt it approaches the United States. While we eat out of the guys are revved their customs, their polishent body and tell the box with their elbows on the door-open throttle. Not to say a nice kebab kékés. Everyone joined up shop.
a coffee in the lobby of the hotel. We recover our bags and head for the bus terminal where we need to find a bus to a town north of Copan, d e there we will be able to find a bus to this small town where the ruins of the Mayan city. Erik decided to accompany us. Arriving da ns neighborhood, we immediately understand that we do not travel first class. Check in half an hour, just enough time to put on a good breakfast for us to wait before departure. The road will be long, a good 6 hours. Nothing to report to a stop in a big stat ion where Laetitia was almost missed the bus, with Erik at his Research and me trying to explain to the driver she was going back ... All this does not prevent us from arriving on time in the small town of Copan. A place quite charming, cobbled streets, small houses in your very colonial. Men in Cowboy hat and Texas, and those who park in front of banks give a western modern with their shotguns. We find a charming hotel, we set all three in the same room restriction bud ary forces. At night we start dragging our soles in the city, buy some cigars and bottles. We sat on the square to watch a music concert by religious circles of smoke.
The next day we resumed our cloak of supercoils and we take a leadership tuctuc the es es ruin of Copan, one of the most cited of late Mayan era. U n pleasant site, wooded, beautiful stelae, temples and few people. In short everything you would expect from such a place. N ll learn out there in other ruins to visit a little further that they are composed of many homes. The day after we recidivism Tuc tuc. Passing the main site we see a crowd of people with the b Anderol, no doubt it is an event that has nothing cultural. The driver confirms this, it is the local peasants who show no doubt demand for money, apparently the interests of our drivers are not the same as those of peasants. We leave this ugly character! And we go visit. Soon we're approached by a guide, this time we accept. Beautiful golf in the woods deserted of tourists, probably frightened by the protesters upstream. Back to hitchhike on the back of a pickup, that the joy of being upright hair in the wind ...
Back to the village to talk the sequence of events. Erik still does not know if it goes directly to Belize to join her aunt before leaving for Seattle. Much indecision before I go out a cigar and a beer and agreed to continue the road to Tikal, another major city of the Mayan empire with us at least to the point closest to Belize. And here we are equipped and sweating the next day to speak with a reel of minibuses, which in passing we announced a price more than twice that we know. We use the usual technique of one who is not willing to take that bus and wait for the next, the price immediately joined the local course. An hour later we're at the border with Guatemala. The sun gives way to a downpour, but we have time we embark on another minibus for another hour away. We arrive in a medium sized city, dirty, polluted, with touts who jump on us just out of the bus ... And it connects with another bus to a town farther north. The meter is running and the night arrives. We descend on the outskirts of town, cross the road to get to the pharmacy to inform us on the buses that go to Tikal. There a. But the guy wants us to cough up the entire route from the starting point of the bus. And this bus goes here about 23 hours. Scenery: some barracks, station service and the gentleman who announces that pa g fro 21 hours the area is infamous. Two choices, sleep in this rotten hole and wait for the next day to travel or take the bus. We are tired, hungry, unable to make a decision, let go of the nerves, we yell at each other. The person from the Office has a solution. We take a bus to a little further, included in the package, and we can in this place better reputation, which must wait for the bus to take us to our final destination. Everything goes as planned, after two hours the bus we loose all three in a huge gas station. It is 20 hours. Erik hopes to here take a bus to a town farther north where it should pick up a boat to Belize. Looking at the map and the bus route that we take we understand that his interest is to take the same as us. Especially since he had taken the bus did not stop. It would therefore be condemned to sleep under the stars in the station. The bus arrives, we sit in our reserved seats, Erik was not so lucky he's on a stool in the aisle. The night passes as she can. No air conditioning, frequent stops ... At dawn we say goodbye to Erik and descend to cross a road. It's 6 o'clock in the morning, we're almost there. The line is straight, great fatigue, heavy bags, but there is still a little cool at night and birds sing. We finally arrive at the village and seek a place to grab a coffee and end up in a cabin that is a museum, bar, shop all covered in a thick layer of dust. The guy served us coffee with a strong odor but, om Elette with two eggs he has left. And here he pushes the song while showing us his small museum ... he even managed to show earrings to Laetitia for her to buy him. They are not bad, the problem is that he has one. Nevermind, it brings pearls, apart from other jewelry while we launch from time to time a hard look that turns immediately into a loud laugh that ends in fraternal poetic frenzy ... In short we do not know if we're very tired or if we are still in the bus dreaming this scene worthy of a half-sleep between dreams and reality. We leave this difficult strange character to his madness and take a bus to the park entrance which houses the ruins of Tikal. As a salute our RRIV rain comes to cleanse us from our fatigue with plenty of water. We go to the three hotels to evaluate their bids ... not so easy with torrents that form in the paths. But we eventually find one quite to our taste. Here we are far from good hotels usually markets we frequent: lamp, thicker mattresses, nice view over the tropical gardens where hummingbirds foraging on flowers. How good a little luxury, too, because we all need to even leave the room to wash us in the shared bathroom ... in luxury we took the cheapest. By the evening we extend our stay by a luxurious dinner at the hotel for the price very European ... it even adds to all this wine, we gain strength for tomorrow morning we plan to go soon dawn on the site for the pleasant light of dawn, the chirping of birds, maybe see a toucan that Laetitia looks in each forest that we are experiencing now that we have addressed the equatorial zone and a comfortable temperature.
The whoop, we lot of sleep. A good shower and we're in the booth where we take our tickets. Everything would be perfect if the mosquitoes had not decided to come join us also. But after the Amazon, we close that learned to control our annoyance against this horrible insect. Fortunately the view from the first temple which discovered through the thick vegetation makes us forget the little things and we're under the spell of ancient Mayan cities. The site being dispersed we walk into the jungle to reach the different groups, always on the lookout for the toucan and his cry of a frog. But it does not show up. After three hours and have discovered the main group consists of two pyramids that face each other, and some residential buildings, we return to a hearty breakfast at the hotel before leaving to explore the rest of the site. And eventually we will see our toucan in flight, just a few seconds to admire her figure and her big black yellow bill and see it disappear into the tree groves. It is eleven o'clock, we are happy and we walk joyfully, glad to have seen our toucan. We climb to the top of the pyramids, our picnic under the trees while the monkeys move from branch to branch. A nice day in the heart of Mayan history. Tikal was the Mayan city most influential of the classical period, it owes to the fall of the city El Mirador, which dominated the first period and the ouster of his rival to the north. Its successor the international star of Mexican cultural tourism, the widely recognized Chichen Itza. It is 18 o'clock, the sun sets and gives way to rain torrential. It is time to desert the site as most tourists and we return to our little room at the shelter from the weather and mosquitoes.
Farewell Tikal, we continue our journey west to the charming town of Flores.

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271-274 J / Granada Little Italy

Taxis are there at the arrival of the boat to wait for the customer. We negotiate the price and go up to make us drop to where we can take the bus to Granada. On site we are told that the bus had left and we are advised to take one who is preparing to leave and then another for Granada. The driver apparently did not intend to wait for us and time to unload our bags from the trunk of the taxi, he begins to start, we are forced to run and climb in through the back road. As often in Central America is a large bus yellow Blue Bird. To believe that all the old U.S. and Canadian bus stranded there. We install, the guy in charge of trying to charge as often happens, to extort us much more than the normal price the sellers a lot of things to eat before the ride and back down from behind at each stop A regular bus route what! It drops us at a crossroads where we expect the next bus to Granada, which was not long in coming.

Granada, a colonial city, probably the most beautiful of Nicaragua welcomes us at the end of journ ed with a beautiful light tan on its buildings. We're immediately looking for the hotel Roxane, the famous hotel run by an Italian and his wife we talked the Germans on Isla Ometepe. Rox ane and Giovanni are there and they have rooms for free, without the mouse! Roxane announces an amount higher than that which had been the Germans and had our heads down she herself the price. Finally we take a room for us three, it overlooks a small courtyard where children play. Good atmosphere, free internet and apparently Giovanni is an outstanding cook for pasta anyway. The perfect place for three or four days in this quiet town that is not too large and in which there are many things to visit. For starters we order from Giovanni good beer and fresh pasta with gorgonzola. I try to speak a little Italian with Giovanni, but it is English that comes and as he speaks a mix of both languages is quite incomprehensible to others. I learn that it is installed in Nicaragua for eight years, he came to vacation and it is never repaired ti. The pasta arrived accompanied by a sweet smell of gorgonzola. They are delicious! It's been so long since we had not eaten anything so good as we savor one by one, ensuring they are well coated with sauce perfect and we redemandons! The fact remains that for a flat but we order it anyway and we share it. We finished the stock of gorgonzola but I am sure Giovanni has a personal stashed somewhere. We talk course of European Cup football match and Fance-Italy to be held the next day. We We hope to see you two hours to watch the game together.
After a hot night we'll see what looks like the city. The heat is overwhelming and we had trouble finding a place to have breakfast but the city look nice. We begin with a museum of anthropology, not outstanding but which gives us a glimpse of what we can see from the Mayan sites we'll see soon and at least it's cool. The time of the football match approach and we eat a piece quickly before reaching the hotel and Giovanni. When we arrived everything was quiet, the TV is off and not in Giovanni area. Bizarre. We turn on the TV and no match. What this story. Thereupon Giovanni arrives and asks us why we did not come watch the game with him! How? He began the match in 10 minutes! "Well no, it is finite and increasingly France lost." we answered it. And now I understand everything. When he was asked what time he started he told us "a las doce" and new s was included "a las dos." On my tch was at noon and not two hours and the worst is that this is not the first time it happens to us verbally the difference is subtle and it has been had. At the same time if it was to see the French take a winnowing rouste and be not serious. So we decided to go take a nap, as the locals, the streets are empty at this hour, too hot. In addition Erik does not feel very good side stomach. Probably something he ate, the problem is we all three ate the same thing when Stan and I are crosses fingers. In the evening we test another dish Giovanni is definitely a good cook and it is our pleasure to eat a different dish the perennial chicken rice without sauce and fried bananas and especially a dish that has taste. We spend the evening talking with Giovanni half English, half in Italian while drinking beer, well, mostly Giovanni. The next morning it's my turn to have stomach problems and Erik does not get better at all, cons, Stan is in top form. We make an inventory of what we ate yesterday and the only thing that Erik and I have not eaten and Stan is a mirror, probably full of nasty bacteria. And that's how you greed punished. Stan finds himself with two balls that do not want to eat and who can not leave the toilet more than 100 meters! The day will be held under the banner of "lazy" and the fabulous project to make the boat visit a string of islands near dark waters of Lake Nicaragua. We do have the strength to drag her to the bus office to inform us on the bus to take us up to Copan in Honduras where he yad are Mayan ruins. No direct bus, we will spend the night in Tegucigalpa al the capital of Honduras. Erik decides to leave the next day. Stan we prefer to stay one more day and if my health would improve we could reach the islands. Before we return to the downtown, we visit a ruin of modern times and future archaeological and tourist site for generations Future: u abandoned hospital for ten years.
For our last evening together, Erik gives us a good meal in the pizzeria in the city. Granada is like a little Italy and it is therefore no lack of places to eat. We are now on deck to have a good time, inevitably vendors ragtag spend to sell souvenirs and things to nibble on an appetizer. And we choose what to eat. The little boy who sells them has such a talent to showcase the cupcakes that without a doubt his mom prepares, we buy him that our pizza is about to be served. The pizzas arrive, we continue discuss while drinking ... Obviously we remake the world talking about the problems of ecology of world order, energy waste which leads Erik to talk about his proje t home énergétiqueme nt self. Very interesting but it would be a bit long and tedious to describe it. At this time two ottomans that U.S. we had crossed on Isla Ometepe and necessary link to our table, the conversation turns from edge to deadly dull, luckily dint of silence they finally realize that their place is elsewhere. In addition, unlike Erik, who made an effort not to talking too fast in his native language for us to understand, they make no effort and only Erik happened to decipher what they say. The conversation resumed its course as if they never existed and it is much better.
The next morning we bade farewell Erik telling us that if he changed his mind we expect to exit the bus in Tegucigalpa when we arrive tomorrow. Is still not restored, we make a quiet day. Giovanni seeing my weakness, I prepare a Risotto of the most famous to get over the stomach in place. In the afternoon we go through the box hairdresser where Stan tries to explain to the hairdresser that he would Psyko with a cup drawing support. The result is not so bad. There will even be entitled to a triple-pass shave with irrigation water of Cologne and a head massage to soothe all. Giovanni evening offered us to come and eat with him as his wife organized an evening of belly dancing. We have nothing else planned, so we go there and fortunately, since we are only spectators. It's our last night in Granada and Nicaragua, Honduras direction tomorrow.

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J 365 / J without comment

Finally, we enter, and start again ... for a month! Re-scheduled to return to Paris on Oct. 20. Meanwhile you can follow the result of our adventures and Asian American. Finally all that 's so we have time.
FYI, little party planned for the weekend of October 31, so watch this.

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267-271 / The American Friend

N ll enter the lobby of the bus terminal, overall look, my eye stops s ur a known figure. Eric, an American from Seattle sat quietly waiting for the bus departure. He did pa s chang e if this does is that it has lost some of its sunburn and found e complexion of aspirin. As he left for Nic Aragua, he does not know exactly where and after discussion in the bus, it is well tent e also by a passage from Isla Ometepe and the lake is the largest in Central America. A border crossing later, we descend into a city facing the island and its two majestic volcanoes. Before we embark we try to get news about Slava, whether he has embarked on his flight to La Habana as Eric who has paid his ticket via her credit card was given back the Argentine Does the flight and it is no news of him. Unfortunately the airline does not confirm his presence on the ol v confidentiality clause. Hopefully it has not been removed by police who asked her to deposit it at the airport . We are not well s û r the police in this country are all entrusted nce.

arrived on the pier we find immediately a boat made daily liaison with the island. A mid-cargo ship, mid-ferry, half-tub. We settle on the upper deck to admire the island crowned with its two majestic volcanoes, Concepcion and M Adura. After a few minutes e navigation atmosphere changes, the waves for ment, and we are growing pl ongeons and go back in rhythm. The boat heels right and left regular wave s water the bridge, we would feel at sea We are experiencing a good time this treatm ent . Just before arriving to
The next day we plan to go to Cerco Verde enclave water close to shore. Why we go to the village to rent bikes. Eric takes advantage in. ur trying to withdraw money, but lack of passep ort he is forced e after more than an hour has EXPECTATIONS, c is gift c Laetitia who reports to him. I take this time to watch Fra nce play against Holland, but we must start at half time while France hammered the Dutch goal without finding the fault. Two good fortune es bicycle, we stop occasionally to rest and watch the evo lution of the match on t és el those who sui wind ... it ends with a score absolutely outrageous, probably due to an incredible number of mistakes offs for Holland! A good beer for us coming back to these two little he ure bicycle and we'll walk around the pond, get some pebbles on the black sand beach and fra yer way through a mangrove swamp well.
At night we're back at home, the family was a little worried about the delay. On reaching the village we have to û search for a new car s take the night until another button t of the island on a farm o ù we should find coffee at the foot of the smaller of the two volcanoes. We collect our bags, let's say goodbye to the family of a night we've just rolls e few tens of meters that the car breaks in the roads permanently . Shit. The driver told us of not worry, his son will pick us to take us in a 4x4, we open wait for warm beer. The son comes in and we resumed our road, we need a good hour eure and a half drive to cover the distance is not great, but most is done on the rocky and muddy trail. To 21 hours we arrive at Finca Magdalena. Eric would like to sleep in a hammock in the cool, but it's really cool when he takes us as a small room. The restaurant is still open we take the opportunity to fill our stomachs, and come to bed, because tomorrow we will have to be in shape to climb the volcano TIL u'à its peak, even if it is the smallest two and its flanks are shaded e s.
Everyone wakes at its own pace, around 10 o'clock we go on first ing care to avoid the guide that the hotel staff has tried e us to the legs. Soon we will go s account of the futility of it : The path is straight to the top. Along the way we discover cocoa plantations, a coffee nursery but USSI of p e troglyphes dating from the early days of the occupation of the island. This first part has everything from a walk. Until o ù we meet a group that goes down the heat Ussuri and pants covered with mud and looks very tired ad e we crossed the first third. Small to little we understand, the stones are more slippery, more and more mud, c O you stiffened and dense vegetation. Breaks are increasingly en sequents and we do not even have lungs for us smoke a small rod, which would also be instantly turned off as we sweat blood and water . The vegetation changes, the trees are twisted, intertwined branches, mosses, orchids and other plant pests seek refuge here. We continue our way with difficulty monitoring and reporting e s p far ar monkeys. In the distant cries of howler monkeys that make echoes on the walls of the volcano. Verse 1 4 hours we reach the summit, we descend and a few minutes later we discover a small lake that has made its place in the hollow of the crater. N ll take time to admire the place, to bathe, lunch and redesce ndon carefully as there are mud and slippery rocks. Nearly there és to the farm, we ask to see the sin management howler who take counsel at the summit, on the canopy!
The day after we return for a trip that seems easier. We head to a waterfall we were told e . We fail to get lost several times along the way, if we had not found e with the boss by farmers to . For access to the waterfall, the path will also pitched well, not as much as yesterday, but with the fatigue he seems just as much. Little disappointed when arriving at the waterfall, it is small and cluttered with pipe and cement posed by people to get water to irrigate their fields and perhaps their homes. In return we admire many p é troglyphes scattered throughout the forum ê t. Although tired é s we sit on the terrace to admire the sunset behind the volcano by drinking a beer.
Our stay on the island, contributing to one of seven merve illes world's natural end. Before leaving the farm I'm talking with one farmer who explains how he treats in this coffee farm. A former pesticide-free. Harvest to hand of e pulping in vi Eilles machines and drying in the sun for several weeks, as opposed to some areas or it takes a few days. Here it rains a lot. Here is the recipe for an organic coffee and according to them the best in the world. Without hesitation we buy a pound of green coffee.
A walk in the sun and we win the bus stop in the village below, have to be patient with few other tourists as the bus arrives. We climb aboard the wreck that does not exceed 15 kilometers per hour, but never stops. Apr è s two-hour journey we become to the north of the island, we lunch and we sit in the tub to regain c O you.

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264-267 J / Coffee trees at the foot of the volcano

The final destination of our bus is San Jose, Costa Rica, so we asked the driver to drop us off the road at the fork in the road Boquete. No problem. Around 5am we were awakened by the colleague of the driver who announces that they have forgotten to drop. Awesome. They will land on the edge of the road and told us to cross and wait for a bus. We wonder if we are not already on the border with Costa Rica because there is what appears to be a border post. Besides, a man who seems to be a customs asked for our papers. A bus arrives and we are rushing to get to the other side of the road to stop it. It is still dark and the passengers are people who go to work. We learn that the first bus to Boquete is at 6:30 so we decided to go to the terminal at David, it will be better than to wait in the dark on the roadside, and for some snaps raining and more. We will put more than one hour to David which confirms our doubts over the border. We will not have long to wait, a big yellow bus American Blue Bird is leaving to Boquete. The time it fills up and go. Still an hour away and we here in Boquete, a town near the volcano, whose summit, moreover it is possible to see in clear weather from the Pacific Ocean on one side and the other the Caribbean Sea . We need to find a hotel and the guide indicates a cool down in the village beside the River. We take the road when we stopped by a lady who says she has rooms available in his hotel, that's good is precisely the one we wanted. She was en route to taking the bus to David and told us that the keys of the shop is hidden in the flower pot and we install. In fact it looks more like a small house with a lounge and a kitchen and two bedrooms with bathrooms. We choose one and then ask our large bags. Indeed the river flowing in front and there is a mini garden to enjoy it. A quick shower and getting ready rapido a coffee because it will be time to find Kalin and Jason. They are as expected at their hotel, waiting for us, we have just enough time to discuss before the tour guide for the Coffee arrives. She is Dutch, and like many foreigners settled in the area some years ago. The climate and beauty of the area attracts more and more people, many Americans who spend their retirement in this quiet corner. On the road we had seen signs announcing the construction of new homes and all were in English, it is clear that it is not for Panamanians. We got into the 4X4 which takes us a coffee plantation. The guide explains that with her husband they too have a plantation but it takes its customers that of her friend because she is larger and especially it has all the machines that help explain the process. Arrived on site we expect three Americans who will follow the tour with us. It will last three hours and despite the fact that this is not our first Coffe e Tour we have learned many things, the process is not quite the same in all countries. The owner retains all the machinery of his grandfather who started the operation and used by then and still functioning. They are in their original location in a small wooden house and it's interesting to see how this has evolved. We conclude with a tasting of coffees that have undergone different types of roasting, light, medium and dark or French! Then comes the part "and now you're well buy one or two packets of coffee? . Since we are only interested in green coffee which keeps better and they do not it will not be for us. By cons we acquire a large bag coffee to keep company with the one we brought back from Brazil.

We return to the village and spend the afternoon we walk together, especially in a private garden open to the public, drink a coffee on the terrace (where smoking is prohibited) and we find our coffee roasting plant in a way. We eat together and we say goodbye again, Kalin and Jason are leaving tomorrow morning to Bocas del Toro on the north coast and we stay an extra day to explore the area.
The next day we go to market to buy some fruits and vegetables and we leave on the paths. First we follow the paved road and when a small way to this we borrow. We walk along a beautiful river for a while, we stopped under a tree for a picnic and then arrive in a very dense forest on a hill. The scenery and lights are beautiful and it does us good to find ourselves in nature after a few days in Panama City.
The next day we left already. We get up at dawn to catch a bus to David and we know that there are departures from San José, the capital of Costa Rica. It will take us several hours of travel, with a border crossing and arriving late in the day. We actually arrived around 19h in San Jose and we have to change terminal. In fact there is no terminal comprising all companies but small private terminals for each company, obviously they are scattered in the city. We counted follow up with a bus to Nicaragua since we do not intend to stay in Costa Rica, but there is no night bus, the next is tomorrow morning at 8am. We buy our ticket we pay for the entire journey while we stopped long before, in a small city near Lake Nicaragua where we can take a boat to Isla Ometepe, our next destination. We're looking for a hotel in the area and land in the "Small Hotel", an institution whose former owner was French. We see immediately that the standard of living here is still more expensive than in Panama. The price of the bedroom is close to those found in Europe. The neighborhood is not full of hotels, it's late, so we negotiate the price a bit and we moved. We dine out and go back to bed quickly, one is KO and say that ultimately it is not so bad we do not travel that night. Tomorrow we must get up early to have breakfast before going to the terminal which requests arrive one hour before departure of the bus! Worse than flying.

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260-263 J / J Sin City

Here we disembarked the bus in downtown Panama City. We take a taxi to be laid in the district in which, according to the guide, are the hotels cheap, and we split up temporarily our fellow travelers. We will in some hotels but the prices are far beyond what we thought. We ask people on the street who tell us another neighborhood, one where the bus had deposited us earlier! We took a taxi to nothing and then retrace our path to walk but because ultimately it's not that far and that taxis are not given here. The currency of Panama is the Balboa (Rocky but obviously not the English conquistador who claimed to have discovered the Pacific Ocean) but it is pegged to the dollar and hit prices in dollars, tickets are U.S. $ the same as in the U.S. and few parts are balboas, when this is not a hundred dollars ... Fortunately the prices are somewhat lower than in the United States but we feel that it approximates more and more. Besides, there are fast food everywhere and you can not smoke anywhere, if it is not proof. In short we change the neighborhood and found a room with a real window on a true outside, which is hardly the case in all hotels, air conditioning, a bed and a private bathroom for a reasonable price. It was time, it starts raining ropes of the city. After a good shower which property Crazy, the first six days (no shower on the boat and the salt water can wash it but it's still not the same thing) the rain stopped and we do a short tour and a bite . We must also find the internet to see if others have sent an email to inform us of where we can find them. Not much in the neighborhood and shame on us, we go to McDonalds. In France we never goes (I swear it's true and yet there is one close to home) and then I do not know what took us for the first time in more than eight month, we choose junk food. As might be expected that not great and it stays on the stomach. We'll walk a little to get it all and at the corner of a street we fall on Kalin and Jason who also found a hotel in the neighborhood. We will all send an email to Slava and Erik who are the ones on the other side of town to tell them that they are back to their hotel and take a taxi to four the price is much more reasonable-to join them. The driver told us not to walk around the city at night, we talk about guns and thieves, atmosphere. It will not be the only person to tell us to be careful not to go in a particular neighborhood because it's dangerous. Even police bikes have warned. All this does not help us to feel, well, safe ... Of all the cities we visited, this is the first time we do not feel at ease and we are on our guard. Once we've found Erik Slava and we will still walk around the neighborhood to find a place for dinner, should not become paranoid, and it is seven, five guys, there must be easier for a target of any thugs. After that we find a nice and trendy place, good music and pleasant with an art gallery but not for other clients that we drink a few beers. A nice first evening with our five other buddies on the boat.
The next day we will see the only point of interest in the city, the Panama Canal. He crossed the Isthmus of Panama about 80 km to connect the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean. Each year 14 000 boats and borrow the road widening project is underway to allow the passage of bigger vessels, which undoubtedly will cause environmental damage. In Panama City, one can see the boats pass through locks at Miraflores and is therefore that we set an appointment. The passage of boats observed a large terrace. From here we can see huge ships queuing at the entrance to the lock. One of them is in the process of happening is very impressive. Actually widening is needed, there is no more than one meter between the boat and the canal at this place. Small tow the cargo trains to guide him in the canal and passing the various pools that can raise the vessel and to pass the lock. We remain there a good time watching these behemoths move slowly out to sea and finally we just had time to visit the museum that explains the construction of the canal. The idea goes back to the early 16th century the first attempt at construction began in 1880 by the French and the Americans who are the end. The canal opened in 1914. Nearly 28,000 workers died during construction, including malaria, yellow fever or accidents. We will not have time to learn a lot more, time is the time and we are put out by the guards. We're back in the center, each with its program for us will be the last "Indiana Jones" with Kalin and Jason in the modern buildings bristling.
We spend another two days in Panama City. We will also send a large package to France with all things heavy and bulky purchased way. Gradually the group dissolves. Kalin and Jason go first.
We spent an afternoon walking around the city. This is not happy, some neighborhoods seem in a state of disrepair. Crumbling walls, abandoned buildings, dirty streets ... We had already crossed the unwelcoming cities but usually there is always a lively and pretty, but nothing here. We decide to go to the hotel and Erik Slava see if they are there. The next day they both go, Slava Erick Cuba and we do not know too much, besides maybe it either has not thought too. One last evening together drinking shots on the bench in a public park and watching people and end up in the trendy bar of the first night but this time it is full. We said goodbye, we kiss and we wish good luck for the future. For us, the next step is Boquete, a town at the foot of a volcano and where coffee plantations. We will again have to spend the night in a bus, he left for 23 hours. We spend our last day in an internet cafe, that's good it's raining, and we take this opportunity to write a bit for the blog. Just before leaving for the bus station we received an email from Kalin and Jason who just arrived in Boquete when it was not what they expected. They tell us that the next day at 9am they will make a coffee tour and if we're interested there is room for us. We did not find them so quickly and of course we said yes to the coffee round, even if it leaves us just time to put our bags at the hotel and maybe take a shower. But it's the world tour of coffee or?
We take a taxi to the bus station which is often as eccentric. The bus leaves only three hours, it will not be easy to handle. The station is large and well lit but there is not much. We leave our big bags in the offices of the company, this will easier to pull the clog. A shopping center is just opposite and we go in telling us that maybe there ... We go around to find where we're going to eat a piece, not easy to choose between fast food and ... fast food. We settle in a small pizzeria in the hope that they do not serve us too soon. Despite this we do not spend more than an hour, which we made two more to occupy. And if it was still around the mall? Meanwhile almost all shops were closed. No luck. But what's that light over there? Let's go. An ice vendor, buy a small ice. We eat across the aisles This dark mall dragging its feet for the maids clean behind us and a little music accompanies us much kitsch. Rather murky and it has not spent more than half an hour ... We decide that we asse z explored the place and we drop in the waiting room awaiting the arrival of the bus that we hope will not be too rotten. He finally arrived and pleasant surprise it is brand new. By cons it is too early to shop there. We light a cigarette for small and wait two minutes after the driver tells us that we'd better turn it off if a cop goes by that he could stop us. What? But we're out! Well yes, but here it is forbidden to smoke even outdoors. Besides, it's true that we had seen posters in front of some stores prohibiting smoking within 50 meters when it is the street! Not cool, at least it crushes, we sit on our bags and were waiting thirty minutes.

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254-259 / One Dollar

The sea is calm, the sky is clear. Too little wind swells the sail, not enough for the captain cuts the engine. Cartagena gradually disappears. We spend the last buoys. The sun approaches the horizon. When finally the sun touches the sea and the sky ignites us in the open sea We are no longer a small nutshell lost in the vastness of the Caribbean water. At the request of Captain Marco, Lae titia organizes the quarterfinals, they will be of two hours each. Laetitia is the first of tomorrow morning from 6 to 8, the mine just before 4 to 6. After a small snack that will make us marine offshore and the time to admire the stars, the whole world share sleep except the one who must ensure his shift. With Laetitia, we sleep in steerage, it is not big enough to lie down completely, but less noisy than the cabin adjacent to the engine and cooler than the bow. Marco Morgan and the two Colombian sleep on deck. At four o'clock Eric comes to wake me, I put a little time to emerge, I take the bar and tries to stay the course to 320 degrees. A m ain asked e No mark on the bar you can correct the course as and when the waves or wind pushing the boat in one direction or another. Little by little the sky cleared, the stars go out one after the other, light waves lapping up to greet his majesty. It is expected e, but we guess its light below the horizon. Clouds come veil her splendor, and I should wait a few minutes that his majesty deigns to remove his last sail before illuminating the immensity of the sea and launder the mainsail. Side breeze, sun in the back, heading for Panama. It's 6 o'clock, the darkness of last night have disappeared, Laetitia goes to the bar and stays the course to 320.
breeze, humming engine, light waves, the hours pass, the captain puts the beer and we left the bar carefully. Every two hours a new foam takes over. This insignificant thing that we're in the middle of the ocean continued its course due west until the sunset and celebrate the sun dip into the Caribbean Sea are preparing a series of tightly compressed rums. All crew members get along well and it's a good thing in a small space. A another night under the stars and the next day at dawn the gulls we announce that the earth is farther from Panama. Captain Marco confirms q ue in three short hours we will enter into the turquoise waters of the archipelago of San Blas. Two hours more and we see the silhouette of a first islands, slight change of course. The palm trees are starting to take shape, the water goes from blue to turquoise. Some dolphins curia ux come to escort us into the calm waters of the archipelago. We throw the anchor, bow our mainsail and dives one after the other in the clear water and calm of San Blas. A few minutes later the canoes come ashore for us to sell us freshly caught fish and lobsters for a very low price. We leave for one of three main islands. An island, a friend of Marco shows us around the island and explained that this archipelago as it can maintain its autonomy from IS v Panama, the government of semi-independent Kuna people of San Blas Islands prohibits hotel construction their territory and only the yachts can anchor in their waters. Small houses, each with a palm access to the sea Children playing basketball on the square, a grocery store with little to sell, a few stalls for souvenirs. Back in the house of our host, we prepare a few punches until the end of Marco's friends prepare the evening meal. Night falls on the islands and finally the food arrived, unfortunately the lack of light prevents us from seeing the contents of our plates. But the mouth and taste all the equipment we felt that the fish are delicious, the rice is not cooked, the lobster prepared by Marco still require some minutes before reaching the required melt. For lobsters of the ECOND batch will be good by cons for rice will be worse than the first image of cooks who are becoming pl attacked us rum and marijuana. In light of the moon we join the boat.

following days: white sand beach, coconut mounted, snorkeling to watch the colorful fish, starfish, octopus ... We take even one more day to spend quality time with the absence of customs to deliver us our entry visa. Funny islands that make up this wonderful archipelago. Among the Kuna, the area's residents negotiate everything for a dollar. You want to photograph them is a dollar the Kuna, you want to visit an island a dollar a head, you want to pick a coconut is a dollar more, you want to drink like a coke ... the list is long and sometimes surprising. Once again we see that it is women who are the guardians of tradition, it is always they who are in traditional costumes while men prefer thongs, shorts, T-shirts, rum and cigarettes .. .
After three days of this we are ready to go back to Porto Bello and join Morgan the boy who left us yesterday. The wind has not returned yet and we're going to continue to the engine, what sadness is all the more unfortunate that Marco noticed a fishing line was wrapped around the propeller and ended up twisting the bar connecting to the engine. We'll have to take on low speed, hoping that the wind will inflate our sail. It will not be the case, it faseillera the route. We will almost eight hours before reaching their destination, while Morgan has made him one hour aboard a motorboat. We have still spent 6 days in all on this ship, including three to navigate.
Marco offers to host us with him being given the late hour of our landing. Everyone agrees. Marco load the truck. With the Russian Slava, Eric U.S. we are in the dumpster smell the fresh air and enjoy the wooded hills of Panama. Marco arrived at the two Colombian find their brother who was exiled a few months ago to escape the British, the cam and try to rebuild his life away from the crack of his father and junky. We find a house where a live bird of prey, a spider monkey and a friendly Rotweller. We take the evening to visit the village, old trading town at the time of English colonization. We visit the fort that was built to counter Frequent pirate attacks in this time next là.Le Marco us off at an ATM to retrieve his last dollars. We take a taxi to the bus terminal Eric Colon, others are deposited by Marco. Goodbye fast. The neighborhood is rotten and badly attended, luckily the bus leaves promptly to Panama City.

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251-254 J / Last Days in British

Cartagena, Colombia post old city, which saw many galleons from Spain anchor there to unload and load the gold slaves. We come to Cartagena for its history and its beauty but also to find a way to reach the nearby Panama. We explored the trail aircraft but it proved quite expensive for an hour and a half flight. We still have two options: one, along the coast by bus to Turbo to get as close as possible to Panama and then take a multitude of small boats to reach Colón in Panama, it would take four or five days. Two, find a sailboat that reaches directly Colon Cartagena, with a stopover in the islands of San Blas. We hope to find the answer in the streets of Cartagena, where there will certainly be people to inform us, this passage is a outstanding issue since we left, because there are no roads linking Colombia to Panama. There is a forest and inhospitable tropical refuge for many drug traffickers, guerrillas and others more or less frequent depending on how adventurous you want to introduce into his journey.
Under cover of night we landed near the ramparts of the old city. With our backpacks we are experiencing, the sole slamming the pavement and the nose in the air and admiring the beautiful hotels in which we will not sleep. We come through the front door and we head into the neighborhoods most popular. We arrived on a street alive, salsa music from small shops, sidewalks full of people still talking and others to stumble or already collapsed with their dear and loving bottle of rum. We are far from the historic downtown streets already deserted by the vendors of all kinds, where only someone are tourists still pass under the lights of the lampposts. No problem we find our hostel travelers. No sooner have we had time to launch a "buenas noches" reminds us that the receptionist a "hello, do you need a room?". With humor you might have answered "Yes, if we can! Pay in dollars?". I do not like much that we respond in English alors que l´on a entamé la conversation en espagnol. Nous aurons l´occasion de rediscuter de cette forme d´impérialisme culturel dans un autre épisode. Revenons à Carthagène. Une fois posé nos affaires dans notre chambre sans fenêtre, nous repartons en quête de notre pitance quotidienne. En passant nous voyons sur le comptoir de l´hôtel une annonce pour un bateau qui part pour le Panamá dans deux jours. Nous appelons et prenons rendez-vous pour le lendemain avec un certain Marco à l´accent bien québécois. Nous grignotons quelque ACPM (Arroz Carne y Papas Maduras c´est à dire le plat typique colombien, riz, viande et bananes mûres) dans un petit resto à la lumière crue. A short walk to get out and admire the beautiful homes that haunt the old city and we throw ourselves under the sheets.
noon as expected we find Marco in the hotel lobby talking to a guy in English tinged vocalise post-Soviet who is also interested in: Slava. All together we head toward the port, we board a small motorboat not quite brave to join the boat, a twelve meters. Do not long for us to decide the solution on the Caribbean cruise and abandon that of Backpack trip through the forests of Darien. Rendezvous with Captain Marco in two days on the dock a few cubits his sailboat.
We hold these days as he must for anyone traveling in foreign countries. Visit the old town, walking along the ramparts facing the sea, passing through a contemporary art museum to vomit. At a breakfast in a place where they serve nothing but the CMPA in the morning, we met two tourists and of course once again we realize that it is easier to bond with other travelers with the locals. Between tourists we have shared histories, we Butinone the same places and sometimes we recroisons, while for the locals that we are people of passages, here for three or four days at most. So beyond "what country are you from?" and other forms of politeness, there remains much to say, sometimes with luck we can talk about politics or football sometimes even Sarkozy! And yet, Colombia is perhaps the country in which we created as many links with the locals. Even try to spend some time in some places, we travel too fast, he should be able to stay at least ten days to begin to intrude into the real life of the country and move this layer to which we stop most often. So as expected we bind ourselves with a few passengers in transit ephemeral and we end the evening on a small place where kids play "futbal" while discussing the oldest sitting on the benches at the foot of the church. A small grocery store allows everyone to provide beverages and other treats. We will make many return to us for this divine drink that loosens tongues for thousands of years.
And inevitably the time comes for us to go to the marina. We find Slava and we ship in a small taxi deposited us near the dock. Four other people waiting, we s welcome, we present ourselves. Morgan quickly Foam Marco (a French Montpellier) arrives with the boat and load our business to put them on the boat. For our part, we remain dockside until Captain Marco to go buy something to live on the boat for five days. We comply with two good carts, I pass the details of racing, your imagination is fertile enough to imagine the content. We ship one after the other on the small boat to reach the boat. Captain Marco Morgan, Slava Russian, two Colombian relocating to Panama, Erik American, Kalin and Jason the british and us two worthy representatives of the French Republic. We weighed anchor and take direction due west.
Farewell beloved Colombia.