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more animals than in an entire documentary: toucans, monkeys, sloths, iguanas and raccoons just to name a few. A daily experience for those who live in the jungle, yes, but for those of us that live in a jungle of concrete it was an improbable experience.
To crown the day, a dive into the Pacific with the palm fronds touching the ocean. It ' s impossible not to wonder; am I dreaming or am I awake? Aware of the experience that is difficult to repeat, we visited Cahuita and, despite the dirt roads and the Caribbean atmosphere, the impact of the hordes of alternative young people was felt. So we said say goodbye to Costa Rica by entering the Parque Nacional Cahuita to rediscover the natural atmosphere so dear to us. One last dip before saying goodbye.
At the border with Panama we found fifteen motorcycles stopped. This was an organised tour where wealthy North American retirees challenging themselves on the Panamerica Highway, equipped with every comfort. No hotels or roads to choose from, cars carrying your luggage, interpreters in the local language and even medical personnel.
All of this mattered little to us except today where they would determine the waiting time.
Thus, endless hours passed which made us miss the only ferry available to take the motorbike to Boca del Toro. While we were standing on the dock with our inconsolable faces, Ignacio appeared, having sensed the possibility of making some money. He told us that we can park the motorbike in a safe place, take a passenger ferry, visit the island and return in two days. It convinced not only us but also Mika, another German biker who had been travelling around the world for an indefinite time.
No sooner said than done, we found ourselves packed like sardines on a small boat towards a new paradise made up of wooden houses, deserted beaches, crowded buses, starfish and waters that are as blue as they come. Sun, heat, Caribbean sea, parakeets coming to visit us on the balcony and the peace of the offseason.
Once we got back on the motorbike, the highway first took us to Las Lajas for the last dip in the Pacific and then to Panama City whose skyline is in total contrast with all of Central America. We crossed the canal passing the Bridge of the Americas observing the large ships waiting to enter. The Panamerica continued to Yaviza and then got lost in the forest. No road leads to South America. End of the journey? Well, that ' s a whole other story that deserves its time to be told... FC
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