Honduras to Nicaragua.

Places...








And people.




















Adolfo sitting on Dick's bike. He is five.
I sat with Adolfo and his mother while we waited for our passports to be processed. She had a basket of toilet rolls on her head. She sells them out on the street.




She had observed me talking with the fixers who wanted to take my passport. We had a complete conversation with eye contact, hands and touch- and my simple espanol. It was as if we could see inside each other.




I had one of the most tender moments of the trip as she got up to go. She reached out to me. We hugged, we prayed for each other, tears welled up...
Afterwards I wanted to give her something. I tried to find her. She had gone as quickly as she had arrived. Like a guardian angel.

Thank you for the photo, Shirley.

Eventually the immigration and customs processes were complete.
No Pilates could have prepared my suspension for the challenges ahead. Animals to stop for...




A ragged road surface with potholes that could swallow a motorbike.




I am grateful for all those who have taught me how to manage suspension injuries.




Look at these wonderful women. You can just tell that dinner is going to be special tonight.












While they prepare dinner, the fishermen go out, the sun sets and...





















I get to eat the best crayfish Thermidor I have ever tasted. I could taste the love in its preparation.