Well, the last chapter found us on an (almost) idyllic beach on the Bahia de Conception…we woke up, practically melting, in 34degree heat at about half five in the morning. After a cartoon-esque blur of high-speed packing to escape the tender mercies of the very diligent mosquitos, we headed for what should have been our destination the previous night – Loreta. A chap who was travelling with his nephew through Baja to Mexico City had told us we could book our ferry tickets for the La Paz ferry in Loreta…(yes, you´ll probably need to find a map about now)…unfortunately the La Paz-Mazatlan crossing had been cancelled so we´d have to cross to a port further up mainland Mexico – damn – another 300 miles in the saddle! Loreta is a gorgeous seaside town, on the surface pretty dead, but the centre is busy and thriving. Probably the most relaxed and friendly place we´ve been so far… I guess it´s unavoidable when travelling that you´re reluctant to trust people, mainly ´cos you´d be up the proverbial sans le paddle if you lost your kit – but it´s a sad reflection that when people are interested and eager to help your first instinct is to assume they´ll try to walk off with your gear. I´d like to see them try and carry these bl**dy panniers, anyway. The tourist information guy, of whom we were initially very distrusting, was only to pleased to help us. He led Will down to the booking office, Will readying all his Spanish and Pictionary skills to try and get us across to the mainland. On his return, Tourist Office Guy dragged Matt into the office and sat him down to begin a lecture on the attractions of the local area, giving Matt no chance whatsoever to exercise his fluent Spanish. Meanwhile, Will was using a combination of pidgin Spanish and crude (not that sort of crude) drawings to explain that we wanted to get two bikes and two pasty Englishmen across to mainland Mexico – to Topolabampo, in fact – just rolls off the tongue…whilst the lady behind the desk, in the efficient Mexican style we´ve come to know and love, make phonecall after phonecall, asked Will to explain his picture of a bike, made another phonecall… …two hours later, we still hadn´t got anywhere and were informed that because motorcycles weren´t in the system, we couldn´t book the tickets and would have to do so at the main office in La Paz. Entertaining thoughts of a vicious first degree murder, we left the sweaty office and prepared for a high-speed journey to La Paz, pausing for a few minutes to relax with a nice cold drink just off the picturesque town square – look, this travelling is hard work…! The road to La Paz was long, boring, 350km long and extremely uninteresting, bar the first proper crash of the trip. Matt, having carefully applied the brakes ahead of a section of road under repair, was most surprised to find Will approaching from behind at a speed somewhere around Mach 3. Failing to stop, even having deployed both brakes and emergency parachutes, Will clipped Matt´s left hand pannier and slowly toppled off the bike, much to the amusement of the workers. No injuries or damage, apart from a couple of glorious scars on the panniers and a minor dent in Will´s pride! La Paz turned out to be brilliant. Six hours after leaving Loreta (yes, we know that´s only about 35mph average!) we were in an air-conditioned hotel room, ready for an early night so as to be at the ferry booking office by 9. A visit to a nearby “cafe” (10 dollars admission each got us a single ticket that magically turned into a bucket of six ice cold Coronas at the bar) saw us admiring the dancing talents of the La Paz females, sadly from afar – didn´t want to embarass them with our “mad British dancing skillz” – until about 1am. Nice work guys! Two ferry tickets later and we were on a hot, sweaty and late 5pm ferry out of La Paz that rolled into Topolabampo at 1am. Bailing into the nearest motel, we realised that we´d inadvertently booked ourselves into…well…let´s put it like this – the receptionist was surprised that we wanted the room for the whole night rather than just for the hour… We wedged the bikes into the room, barricaded the door with panniers and tried to ignore the red ants, cockroaches and mosquitos running all over us until the next morning.