After spending the night in Yaviza, a town with little to do or see (unless you’re into janky hanging bridges made of diamond plating and boats full of plantains), we finally turned our bikes around to set our sights toward home. Well, wherever home really is, being I don’t technically have anywhere to go back to. We made our way through the dirt and mud and construction and no-man’s-land that is everything south of Panama City and arrived in the city itself in short enough order. We took a few days there to recoup, mentally wrap my head around what we were doing and where we were going, and do some maintenance, then continued our trek. We stopped at Noni’s House, the bed-and-breakfast in Las Lajas we had stayed in the first time down, and we stayed a few more days to continue the recovery process. Peter and Astrid treated us like old friends, and we took a day to visit the nearby beach. It’s the flattest beach I’ve ever experienced—you could probably walk out 100 meters into the surf before it was deep enough to swim. And another day we had a beach barbecue. It felt like a proper celebration.