"Find the land overflowing with milk and mead."
-prophecy to the leader of the Slavic tribe that became the Czechs (sound advice as to what to look for in a country)
Ah yes. No mead in sight, but sunset on tramlines, old staircases in musty apartment buildings and real beer and real bread as we pack our bags and look southwest, all the while anxiously scouring the Internet for at this point overdue news from Bolivia. My stalwart cycling companion is in the courtyard, putting the finishing touches on what has become affectionately known as the caravan (think plastic Carrefour bags and interestingly placed bungee cords). I laughed at him until he pointed out the cucumber poking out from in between my extremely professional drybags. Our dreams are ambitious to the point of farfetchedness, but euphoria is mounting.
Teeth to the wind!
