Horse-carts forbidden, and other photos

Monday we rode from Barranquilla to just south of Santa Marta, the blue dot.

The isthmus land form was more exciting to see on the map than actually ride, as the road was all surrounded with mangroves and other trees. But cool to *know* I was on a land form like that, following along on my moderately intelligent phone using the downloaded Google map.

Not a day goes by where I don't say out loud, "god bless Google!", as we have yet to get wildly lost here, and it has led us most obligingly to our hotels, little stars on my screen. None of this peering at flapping and humidly disintegrating paper maps with none of the roads we need actually named.

And having my device allows me to tap out sentences and thoughts as I have them for this blog, without needing a glorified internet cafe.

All of these words you read come through my sticky and bike-greased thumbs. Elise is amazed the trouble I go through to post these things, climbing into a school yard to find WiFi, scoping out the rare coffee shops, walking to an airport in a small town for their WiFi.

One of my WiFi connection experiences; this airport had WiFi and was decidedly under construction. 

The city of Barranquilla. I love that they need to specify no horse carts here.

We rode out of Barranquilla, crossing a tall bridge over the course of the sun rising into view. Times like this are my travel church.

This village along the isthmus was the most wretched poverty I've seen here. I carried sadness for sometime after biking past. But somehow, amid the scourge of trash and filthy water, I still saw a small boy dressed in colorful carnival garb.

Banana pequeño! I ate my weight in these things yesterday.

The first view of the Sierria Nevada range, hulking quietly in the hot haze. The first land form we've seen besides flatness here. I feel a special reverence for mountains, and to see them imperceptibly grow in size as you approach them is a grand experience.

No color left behind: sleeping with our bikes Monday night, as usual.

Views from bicycling the isthmus. We rejoiced because there were: CLOUDS.

Esso! THIS. This is why I do this. Climbing crawling cranking up and up, and then: a view and the anticipation of the forthcoming graceful glide and swoop down into it. This is the very pleasing Santa Marta.

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