Through the fierce hills of Oaxaca we rode; through Puebla state, Morelos, Mexico and Michoacan, where the road dipped and soared gently through the high contours, where sulphur hung on the air and plumes of pure white steam leaked from geothermal vents. We found charming, lively towns: Vallee de Bravo, where it takes a brave cyclist to tackle the quaint, but painful, cobbled streets; Morelia, where we ooohed and ahhhed at the music and fireworks show at the cathedral; Uruapan, self-styled centre of the avocado universe, disappointingly devoid of avocados, but where a passing Kelloggs deliver [View Full Entry]

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From Chiapa De Corzo we dropped down from the hills into a vast and hot frying pan of a plain to an overnight stop in Cintalapa. A gentle climb out into the hills the next morning was topped off with a gorgeous downhill roll through protected forestland with glimpses of the Pacific Ocean far below. We emerged in Oaxaca state, on a coastal plain, and took a bus to avoid a stiffling slog along a flat and busy road. The following day saw us back on the bikes and heading for the hills once again. As we climbed, the woodland was [View Full Entry]

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Before we go anywhere, I want you to cast your minds back to a distant tiime in Venus Bay, Australia, when Richard was practising baby care on a joey wombat in readiness for the arrival of our brand new niece or nephew. Well, we´re pleased to say that little Iona Jade is now safely with us. We were in the land of the Mayans when we heard the news and, as jade was the Mayan´s most precious material, her name seems most propitious. But now let us continue our journey onwards from Palenque... The jungle slipped away behind us and we [View Full Entry]

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Hola amigos and bienvenidos to the mexican leg of our cycle jaunt. We start off in Cancun and, oo it ain't 'arf 'ot. Except in our room in Casa Mexico Tipico, where it is just about sub-zero. We are staying with Hilda, her family and Pepita, the chihuahua. Hilda's mother is a music teacher and we are entertained by a parade of young pianists, percusionists and guitarists. All is not harmony, however, and I fear at one point that someone has stepped on Pepita, but it is only the violin class warming up. We liberate our bikes from the cardboard that [View Full Entry]

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In our quest to view humpback whales off the coast of Ecuador, we changed our flights to alight in Guayaquil. Thence we took to the buses to arrive in Puerto Lopez, further north along the coast. The bus journeys were hair-raising; conducted at breakneck speed, at every stop, vendors leaping on and off to sell their wares - kebabs, patties, juices, water, coconut and, bizarely, live crabs. All but the latter seemed to be doing a roaring trade. Our attention was taken by the prospect of a ginseng-based miracle cure that could prevent cancer, cleanse the liver, purify the blood, support [View Full Entry]

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The Galapagos Islands. What images do these words conjure up? A land of giant tortoises? Jagged lava rocks covered in prehistoric marine iguanas? Comical seabirds so fearless that you can almost touch them? But this place is so much more; so special, unique and wonderful. Not a static zoological curiosity, but genesis happening before your very eyes; a living tableau of creation and survival. Entire islands are born from the sea in outpourings of magma from far below the earth´s crust. The newly created lands are carried imperceptibly along, the raw, black lava fields being oh so grad [View Full Entry]

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Greetings readers new and old. Now I know that you are waiting to see the Galapagos Islands report, but I am afraid this is not it. But, as all you armchair travellers know by now, you have to take the rough with the smooth... We made our escape from Uruguay across the river to Buenos Aires, where we whiled away a few days hunting down new tyres and preparing for our journey to Ecuador. Pretty soon the bikes were devoid of their 14,000 km-old, bald-with-kevlar-showing-through tyres, resplendant in new knobblies and tucked up in their flight boxes. An astonishingly smooth transfer [View Full Entry]

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Greetings, dear readers. It has been some time since we shared our news, but we´ve been having a bit of a traumatic time lately and have been a little distracted. Uruguay has been a bit of a challenge it must be said. Firstly, it was closed for the week-end - no boats across the river from Argentina - and so we waited in Monte Caseros until the Monday morning before making our way expectantly to the jetty for the launch across the river. Due to wind, inclement weather or possibly an extended mate break, the boat couldn´t immediately cross from the [View Full Entry]

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It´s the crack of dawn and we are off. First of all 20 km on the somewhat hairy Route 14, main trunk road through Argentina, until we reach the turn off for the Ibera wetlands. The road is firm-packed, dry, earth, and fast. We fly along. Or we would if somebody didn´t stop every ten yards to take a photograph of the birds and butterflies that dart about the roadside, vying for attention. Birds of startlingly bright plummage - shiny black birds with golden yellow wings, acid yellow, scarlet crested - who knows what they are - but Richard snaps them [View Full Entry]

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We breezed into the province of Misiones in our little jam packed car, travelling up the western fringe of this outcrop of Argentina, with the River Parana forming the national boundary. From our lodgings in Paso de La Patria, we strolled beside the river, watching the sun set over Paraguay. That evening we ate our customary steak and chips dinner to the background of a news report on the 26th anniversary of the Falklands war. It was a national holiday - for those who weren´t already on strike - and possibly not the best day to be English in Argentina. This [View Full Entry]

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