(Santa Catalina, Panama)
While carpenter Greg was back on the boat crafting up a shelving unit to fill the hole that once housed our departed ice-maker, Mo and I hit the town on rented bikes.
Much to my peddling-bliss chagrin, the nicely paved road doesn’t actually go that far. It quickly dead ends at a river that spills into the ocean. With the rolling hill cruising behind us, beach biking was a wonderful alternative.
On our way back we checked out every side road and found even more hostels and restaurants that weren’t open. We also found multiple uphills that Mo was overjoyed to conquer. For her next vacation she’s Europe-bound to participate in the Tour de France.