As the drive to Drake Bay was so horrendous we see no point in giving ourselves a tortuous 3+ hour trip back to Sierpe. We decide instead to take the ferry across the bay which is about an hour’s ride. We have two choices – 07.30 or 14.30 and opt for the latter and a lie in. I spend the morning catching up on the blog. The Wi-Fi only works within about 10 feet of the office so there has been little opportunity to process anything. I just drink water as I feel I need serious re-hydrating after yesterdays walk. We both have stiffish calves.

We wait under the trees on the beach from 14.00. We are told it is not an exact timetable. Correct. The boat eventually arrives at 14.40. There is no jetty here, so it is a wade through the sea to clamber aboard. We therefore have decided to leave most of our kit in the car and just take bare essentials for our two nights in Sierpe. The boat reverses in and raises its engine and I make my way towards it. Problem is my backpack is pretty heavy with all my camera equipment and the boat is quite a long way out. I walk very gingerly as I really think I am going to fall. A girl near me offers a hand and I make it safely to the boat but I was wet to my hips.

We don life jackets, $20 per person is collected and off we go. It’s a full boat with probably 40 people. It powers across the bay and makes short work of the rolling waves. After about half an hour we enter the mouth of the Sierpe river and have a wonderful initial glimpse of the swamps and mangrove lined channels. Majestic mountains form a perfect backdrop. No photos though as my phone is wisely put in my backpack and not in my pocket as I feared it could get wet. I would have been correct.

We reach Sierpe which is a tiny and somewhat shabby little place. We clamber onto the rustic jetty and try to find a taxi. There are hoards of people and it is steamy hot in the mid-afternoon sun. We find a van with two girls already in it and the driver says he will take us the 1 km up the road to our hotel for 3000 colones – about $5. The girls squidge over and Paul sits in the front.

We arrive at Hotel Cocodrilo. What a delightful little place with the most welcoming hostess – Stephanie.

She apologises profusely that our room has no air-conditioning but it will be fitted tomorrow. In the meantime we have two huge floor fans which help but it is still a very warm room. We order beers, laze in hammocks and watch the sun going down. Nice! Stephanie tells us to make ourselves at home. She shows us the bottle opener and the fridges and tells us to help ourselves to anything we need. It feels as though we are real house guests. What a contrast to Drake Bay.

I should perhaps mention the lack of health and safety requirements here. Our bathroom is large and the shower works well. Just don’t look at the electricity connection!!

Stephanie tells us there is a bar and restaurant next door where we can eat. In reality we had huge difficulty just ordering a drink. The was a severe language barrier. I order a beer for simplicity and Paul has a pina colada. That was a word the girl could say. Mistake was he did not say con ron. With no rum it was a bit bland. We have no option but to walk into town if we want to eat. There is not a lot on offer. We settle on the ineptly named Las Vegas. It’s a big place on the river with just three fisherman sitting in the corner telling stories. We order cuba libres and spaghetti bolognese. Seems like a safe option and indeed it is all absolutely fine. We look down at the dock and spot a crocodile cruising upstream.

There is a supermarket next door where we buy water and then walk back to our hotel. Somehow it does not seem so far. We collapse into bed and sleep restlessly. It is a very warm room indeed.