After bidding farewell to our friends Liz and Dennis we had to loosen up our tightened muscles after having taken to motorised transport a week previously and having rather enjoyed the experience. But it wasn't to be plain sailing as one of us would succumb to illness and the both of us suffer from severely inclined roads acting like little black holes, keeping people pegged to the depths of each valley floor. But it was the gateway to the coast, our ticket back to Mexico City and our final Mexican leg on the bikes. So well worth fighting for!

We plucked ourselves out of the tent much earlier than we'd become accustomed to over the last week, this was sadly to say farewell to the good times we´d been having with our friends Liz and Dennis as we were to go it alone one more. Thankfully we were eased back into things with the blessing of a cycle path leading us all the way from the campsite to the city where we hoped to visit lady Doña Vale of Netflix fame. She was, sadly for us, avoiding the packed, covid riddled crowds at the ginormous market of ¨Abastos¨, crawling with workers wheeling goods to and fro around the early risers looking for bargain. But we managed to find some lovely breakfast that wasn't prepared by the lady herself. This gave us the strength needed to climb up the nearby hillside to the famous ruins of Monte Alban, which we checked out briefly, and then bombed it down the other side. The 'bombing' was actually a stop start affair as there were various road blocks at entrances to villages and roads being built where we had to tip toe around the drying cement, following the workers' advice. But it eventually flattened out a little and we made it to a small town where we scouted out a spot to spend the night. After asking around it became apparent that it was common for pilgrims to sleep under a roofed area around the back of the church. This sounded perfect for our needs so after a quick dinner at an overpriced restaurant, where the waiter kept us entertained telling stories of his magic mushroom experiences, we made ourselves at home... That is until the wee hours of the morning when we were awoken rather rapidly by the sounds of what seemed like gunshots on the nearby road! It got our hearts racing I can tell you as intermittent cracking explosions echoed around the otherwise sleepy village but, as we cowered in the tent, we'll never know what it was: kids with fire crackers, guns, fireworks... Who knows, add you suggestions below!

The morning brought with it the dawning realisation that we'd got rather ahead of ourselves. We'd hoped to roughly follow an off-road cycle route we'd been told about all the way down to the coast, however after our visit to Monte Alban we found ourselves on the wrong side of the valley. To further exasperate things, our exuberant spend the night before on dinner had hit the wallet hard. There was nothing for it but to retrace our steps a good 5-10 km, cross the valley to the other side and find a cash point in the first town we came across. So we got to it, feeling rather silly as we passed busy fields full of folk harvesting crops by hand and transporting maize around by donkey and cart. I felt a little out of place and Ruth's head unfortunately started to feel out of place as well... A good distance before reaching town she was coming down with something (we suspect from the dodgy fish dinner which she was about to pay for all over again; it not being cheap the first time...). We made a beeline for a place to rest and camped out in a cheapo hotel once we finally made it. I brought Ruth food and isotonics for the rest of the day while taking the chance to stroll around the really quite lovely town, all on my lonesome.

Thankfully Ruth plucked up a little strength after bringing her up a little breakfast from the local market and later I managed to take her there in person for some soupy lunch. The market was amongst the best I'd experienced in Mexico with a definite local vibe and complete lack of hassle in the food hall section; something that was very welcome. If people are shouting at you to eat at their stall in a market, tell them to chill the hell out and move your little self right on, it's never worth the stress! Although a fighter, Ruth wasn't even close to feeling 100% again and so could only have a small walk around the town plaza before retiring back to the hotel for more rest. Interrupted only by dinner back on the square. The time off was worth it in order to get her ready for the next day when we'd finally be able to get back on track again.

A morning breakfast of cheese sandwiches (or 'tortas de quesillo') got the engines running as we trundled down dirt tracks, through tall fields of cane and country lanes. The sun watched patiently over us as we passed yet more busy fields being harvested and glided through sleepy villages. It was such a relaxing ride, even if Ruth was still recuperating, that it didn't even seem like a hardship for me when we came across a river flowing across the road up ahead. Simple case of ditch your shoes for a minute and push the bike through the knee deep waters, heartbeat only briefly rising when the panniers started to submerge beneath the murky waters... A hole had been worn into the bottom of one of my panniers when a bike shop mechanic in the States had put the quick release clip on my rear wheel in the vertically up position, not appreciating that it would then ware into the fabric on the bag. This turned out to be rather useful as, being at the very bottom, it helped the water drain out quickly afterwards! The ground along the route we'd chosen slowly crumpled up during the day and the flat open start was turning into creased folds of earth as we pulled ourselves out of one deep valley only to descend into the next, deeper one. The sun's relentlessness combined with this to tire us out by the time we had to look for somewhere to camp. We were out of practice when it came to wild camping and struggled to find a decent location; occasionally stopping in lay-bys hoping no one would see us and each time someone would peep in and ask if we were doing alright. Preferring both to spend the night somewhere no one knew where we were and wanting to avoid people as much as possible, given our upcoming flight and Covid, we pushed on into the late afternoon. Here we chanced upon a cross roads where one option seemed to lead to nowhere in particular. Expecting less through traffic we wondered up this lane and made a little field there our home for the night. Tucked away in a cosy corner looking out over the vast mountains.

Back on 'stealth camping morning schedule' we got packed up as soon as we could to avoid any hullabaloo with local farmers, they'd actually started the day way before us as people were already working the adjacent field by this time. Today was beautiful but someone had really gone to town on scrunching up the earth's crust around here as those creases I mentioned the day before were relentless and soul-destroyingly inclined. We had breakfast with a lovely family who explained to us about the construction of a motorway through the mountains as their kids studied hard doing their remote classrooms (occasionally asking us if we'd like a top up of coffee or chilli sauce). This half finished motorway was our only respite from the inclines over the following days as we occasionally popped off the dirt tracks onto its sometimes tarmacked and sometimes compacted earth surface. But don't be fooled! It also had some pretty big climbs, just that they paled into insignificance in comparison with the main route. Lunch was fun as we shared the little shop/restaurant with two insanely drunk guys who's intoxicated minds could only retain the information 'We are not Americans' for 30 seconds as they kept asking us what it was like there, if we could get them a job there, where we were from there... Well towards the end of the day we found an out-of-the-way area to pitch the tent amongst some super spiky trees and got some rest, expecting the air mats to deflate at some point in the night from fallen spines... We were thankfully lucky!

We'd looked at the route profile for the day and there were a couple of monster hills to get over before a long descent that would see us drop 2 km in elevation down to the ocean the next day. So there was nothing for it but to wind up the slopes and see what we'd find along the way. From kids hiding in trees on the side of the road, to presents of bananas from shop keepers, to meeting Irish friends along the way. We had to stock up on supplies at the foot of the final hill as it was a long road up into the clouds of the forest where we had planned to spend the night. Here we hid from the many children, enjoying playing in the streets with the schools closed, at a small taco stall run by a really nice family before biting the bullet and going for the last big climb of the trip. It was magical, peaceful and steady progress. Sheep herders crossed our paths and families attended their crops on the steep hillsides (I suspect having illegally felled the patch of forest which seemed to be a protected area). I hope the place stays as it is because human pressure on the forest environment was clear to see with piles of rubbish burning on the side of the road next to "Don't burn ya darn rubbish here" signs. But it would be foolish to expect there to be public rubbish disposal in such a place. We made it to a lonely hut looking out over part of the coming descent on the other side as clouds rolled in over our heads off the still obscured Pacific Ocean and dissipated at our backs. They brought with them a chill that reminded us of the Pacific coast of the USA so we hurried down a little path leading to a clearing and small stack of firewood that we took over for the evening. Well, that is after a brief worry that its existence owed itself to illegal activities we didn't want to get mixed up in... Fortunately, as always, this was just our tired minds playing games on us and within a quarter of an hour we were feeling relaxed and accomplished; sheltering from the hazy drizzle and getting an exceedingly early night as a result.

On paper today sounded easy, 60 km along and 2 km down. But the descent was hiding a hell of a lot of uphill in it! I think we might have climbed a good few hundred metres throughout the course of the day and some sections were pretty unfriendly, so much for an easy day. But the downhill parts got me back to nature as birds were a singin' all the way down which allowed me to find out just how insufficient our camera was at snapping the critters. We passed remote villages enlivened by funeral marches, including fireworks and bands filling the air with sweet music in times of sorrow. Rested at fords, who's waters offered a break from the ever increasing tropical heat as we descended. Ruth also got reconnected to the rest of the world after a well needed break from the internet and as we descended we became physically connected to the modern world once more as the forest thinned out; replaced by fields, roads and telegraph wires... It saddened me a little inside to accept it, but knowing we had to embrace it we celebrated the near completion of some hard cycling days with a beer just where the track turned again into road. A bunch of initially manly looking blokes spread themselves out inefficiently across the limited outdoor seating, which lead to a little awkwardness to find our personal space as no one moved a muscle or offered a seat, but we managed to gulp down a refreshing cold one before carrying on to what we'd heard was a very pretty town in Santa María Colotepec. I'd insisted throughout the day that we shouldn't plan too much, so once we arrived the day light was running out and Ruth reluctantly accepted it would be one final night before we could have a decent wash in a hotel bathroom. Asking the police where best we could spend the night the reply was the classic "Right there in the middle of the town plaza" type response. Hoping it would get quieter later into the evening we had some super cheap and delicious tacos before finding that it was actually getting busier... So we hung out there and were greeted by some kids wanting to practice English (surprised as always that we weren't Americans and could talk to them in Spanish). It took them a while to loosen up but once their voice boxes started vibrating they didn't stop and although it was fun we eventually had to chase them off so we could get some sleep that night! Jeez Louise, these kid's bedtime is non existent...