MY PLEDGE - later this month, 28th March, I will hit the big four zero, yes, 40 years old (and still going on bike rides!). If I hit my target of £2000 by that date I will donate £200 of my own travel money to OXFAM. This is quite a chunk of budget but it's just money, it won't make or break the trip. So I need your help, please make a donation if you can and let's try to avert a growing crisis.
On with the blog and here is the customary border crossing picture as I entered country #10, Panama. A couple of miles down the road, examining my Central America map, I was beaming with pride to have ridden in all the countries that make up this region. Then it dawned on me, examining my mental map of the world, that I must have ridden in all mainland North American countries. That felt like quite an achievement in seven months! 
It's always nice to have a homestay lined up for your first night in a new country but the guy I stayed with was perhaps the most highly strung 22 year old I've ever met! He had simple and reasonable house rules but oh how he kept making reference to them! And, looking over my beautiful Oxford Bike Works steed, which usually has people swooning, he was dismissive and curt. He told me absolutely straight faced that it was 'probably' overpriced, my wheels, one of the bike's outstanding features, were nothing special and that the steel frame was too heavy. Oh dear. 
Nevertheless, I'm not really complaining, he was quite amusing in an odd way and unhesitatingly offered me an extra nights stay if I wanted a rest.
So, escap... riding on early next morning I headed east on one of the final legs towards Panama City. Riding the highway with no helmet? For the next 150 miles or so, one or other of the carriageways was closed for repairs and no one batted an eyelid as I took the closed lane. Very liberating, especially in this heat.
This has been a long time coming but staying with the Bomberos - firefighters - is a cycle tourist tradition in Latin America so this, my first night at a Bomberos, was a rite of passage. Ushered in with the minimum of fuss, my humble lodgings was...
...among banana trees...
...camping out back in a gazebo with running water, a hammock and electricity. I felt very safe, was just off the highway ready to attack what I thought was going to be my final hilly stretch in Central America. 
Early morning view from the closed highway. The road from San Felix to Santiago was indeed quite hilly and when the 76 miles were up I was really tired. Blistering midday heat takes its toll. However, I was quietly elated to make it to Santiago. After five days in a row averaging over 70 miles I was just two long rides away from Panama City with my flight still nine days away. To all intents and purposes I'd made it and vowed to take the next few days easy with lots of short steps to my final destination. 
I love McDonalds. What other restaurant chain offers free unlimited Wifi, accessible from outside the building without the need to sample their cheap yet overpriced, horribly overprocessed 'food'. I always stop to steal some free data. 
This pie chart gives me a lot of pleasure. Before I started my trip I'd hoped that travelling by bike might afford me the opportunity to get closer to local people but I couldn't have envisaged that nearly 40% of the time I'd be staying in homes. I suspect that, as I head up into the Andes, this percentage may go down as I'll be forced to camp more. Regardless, the memories of staying with people on this trip will last a lifetime. 
I felt I was onto a good thing with the Bomberos so, next day on from Santiago, my first 'small step' took me three and a half hours and 40 miles up the road to Nata and knocking on the door of the next fire station. 
You couldn't meet a more welcoming, unassuming firefighter than Roberto. All smiles as again I was ushered in to the firefighters fold. This time I was invited to bunk on the floor of an upstairs room. Again access to electricity and running water and this time, a shower too. If you're reading this Roberto muchas gracias por todo! 
Fire truck graveyard. Is that a fire in the background?
I was also able to pick up a free Wifi connection while staying here and, tiring of the monotony of the highway, was able to track down a potential escape route on Google Maps that would take me through the mountains.
Yet another swelteringly hot day. This roadside vendor flagged me down and gave me a huge chunk of watermelon for the journey. Random acts of kindness like this can put a whole new spin on what might be a tough day. It's exactly the same as receiving a donation for OXFAM, you feel like someone is thinking of you, looking out for you and it gives a massive boost. Please donate! 
Once more into the mountains. 
Passing quiet villages. 
Down and out! So much for taking my foot off the pedal and coasting into Panama City, this was tough riding! For the first time on the whole trip I believe, I was forced to get off and push on a paved road. The incline was brutal and sweat was dripping off me as I strained every sinew to make it up the slopes. I can't tell you how utterly beaten I felt in this moment! 
Guess where I stayed in El Valle! Bomberos again, camped out back again. Welcomed in by the boss and we had a great chat about Trump, corruption, The Falklands War, Western Imperialism, you know, just keep it light and easy! 
Wow, the 40 mile ride up to El Valle really took its toll so the next day I just didn't have the energy to move on. The problem was that, overnight, the firefighting crew had changed so I didn't really know who the new boss was to ask for an extra nights stay. And everyone looked so busy (and nonplussed by my presence). So in the end I wondered if I could guarantee an extra nights stay by just kind of not leaving. What were they going to do, uproot my tent and cast me out into the street? 
Riding on from El Valle I could have cruised downhill to take the highway again or seek to quench my thirst for adventure and follow an intriguing looking path deeper into the mountains. 99 times out of 100 I've got to take the hard way, I promise to rest well in my grave! 
The path turned out to be quite a challenging dirt track, spectacularly undulating, wonderfully rutted in places and some great river fording. Tough going but great fun. In the first four hours I covered a mighty 14 miles! It would have been quicker to run and, in fact, I met two guys running from the Atlantic Coast to the Pacific Coast, 120 km. I asked them how many days, they replied, one, we're doing it all today!
Must be a sign that I am destined to run an ultramarathon...
It may be overpriced with average wheels and too heavy, but yes, my bike walks on water. River crossings were good opportunities to dunk my head and cool off a little.
By the way, if you want a sturdy, reasonably priced touring bike with wheels hang built in Watlington no less, contact Oxford Bike Works. The adventurer Anna McNuff who spoke at Icknield Community College this time last year, is currently cycling through South America on one.
Rural scenes. 
Again punishing inclines necessitated getting off and pushing. Doesn't seem quite so unreasonable when you're on dirt tracks where traction is compromised. However, when you realise you're pushing with all your strength just to keep the bike stationary you begin to feel a little hopeless! As you can see, on the hardest slopes I had to dump my panniers first, push the bike up then walk down to retrieve the panniers.
This actually helped to break up the ride a little especially as riding and pushing use different muscle sets. However, by the fifth and final time I had to recover my panniers from the bottom of a hill I'd really had enough! Soon the path reverted to tarmac and things got relatively easier.
Surprise, surprise, I ended this tough, tough day camping at the Bomberos (in La Chorrera). As I've mentioned before, the sheer elation of completing a challenging ride cuts through the tiredness and
I felt on top of the world. Just 35 miles to Panama City now...
Riding on the next day I had planned to make one final stop at a Bomberos station just outside Panama City but, to my astonishment, I was turned away. The novice firefighter holding the fort alone felt he didn't have the authority to grant me permission to stay. What could I do? It only felt right to accept this refusal of hospitality as I would accept an offer of hospitality, with humility and grace.
On a trip like this I always need to be ready to change plans so this was more good practice. Now just 10 miles short of Panama City I decided to just get the job done, let's complete the ride today. This picture is me crossing The Bridge of the Americas over the mighty Panama Canal.
I entered the city through the casco viejo, old town, with the skyscraper district in the distance. 
My reward for completing the North American leg of the journey. When people ask me what I miss from home then of course, it's people - family, friends, colleagues and I really do miss working with young people - students!
But things, I can do without, there are lots of things here. Except ale. I do sometimes miss British ale. Sound like a 40 year old already...
I really don't know what to make of Panama City, it's a true anomaly bearing no relation to the Central
America that has preceded it. My eyes are constantly attracted upwards towards the sleek lines and glistening mirror windows of the skyscrapers above. There seems to be such a concentration of wealth here while the rest of the region seems by comparison poor. I would love to know whose mother money is here and on what basis!
Taxman by The Beatles has been on loop in my mind for the last few days.
Skyscraper district from the seafront.
I've chanced upon a gem of a hostel, Zebulo Hostel, the red building crouched below and crowded out by the surrounding high rises. 
Who's in my hammock? I've spent a lot of time suspended in the last few days, come on I've earned it. Lots of good music on the hostel stereo, Devendrá Banhart is a new find for me. 
It nags away at the back of my mind, should I be trying harder to
improve my Spanish on this trip? All too often I just can't find the time or don't have the energy when I do have the time. Anyway, I had a little look at the imperfect subjunctive yesterday, I know how to treat myself.
Si tuviera más tiempo (y ganas) estudiaría más.
15 years ago I remember arriving in Shanghai and then Hong Kong in quick succession after two months travelling through rural China. Arriving in Panama City from rural Central America has a similar disorientating effect.
It's not all skyscrapers, the old town is UNESCO World Heritage for its colonial architecture. 
Scene at the hostel this morning, a task I wasn't looking forward to - dismantling the bike and packing it up for Friday's flight. I remember this causing quite some stress
back in July before flying out to Vancouver.
But, hey presto, second time round it was a breeze! Bike easily boxed up and ready to fly.
So, 5:10am Friday morning my flight will be taking off to take me to Bogotá, Colombia. This is not cheating! Between Panama and Colombia lies the Darien Gap, an impenetrable, lawless jungle and swampland where genuinely, people enter and don't come back. I could have taken a boat to Cartagena, $550, or a $120 flight to Bogotá. Easy decision.
And that wraps up this blog. The adventure continues next time from South America but don't forget, I'm pedalling against poverty and YOU can help. A few pounds, Euros, dollars will make a difference. Don't delay, donate today, force me to act on my pledge. The smaller my budget the bigger the adventure!
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