After a deal of trouble getting in, we decided that Nicaragua would be a laid-back visit for Team Elephant. It is a relatively easy place to travel. The roads are tolerably good. The prices aren't inflated. Most of it is safe enough and, most importantly, it gave us a few good options for a layover to rehydrate after our border crossing event.

We selected Granada, an old colonial city on Lago de Nicaragua recently reborn as a tourist place. It had, we were assured, interesting colonial architecture and a wide range of accommodation and eateries. If it also had its share of fly-in package tourists, then that was a small price to be spoilt for choice. What it did not have, however, was a surfeit of coffee shops. The Nicaraguans might grow the stuff but are yet to turn its consumption into one of the fundamentals of life.

Caffeine deprived as we were, we enjoyed exploring the old town and markets and were considering our next move when a message arrived from some traveling friends. We had met Canadians Les and Catharine (mounted on a pair of KLRs) in Phoenix some time ago and kept in touch as we do with our fellow travelers. They would, they said, be in San Juan del Sur the next day and could we make it? We packed and rode south without giving the matter any thought at all.

Catharine had sent us the name of well located accommodation so we arrived early and unabashedly grabbed the best room with a view across the harbour for ourselves. We then settled back for a couple of days of catching up, drinking and yarning and generally reassuring each other that we aren't really crazy and that the journey is worth the effort.

Over the years we have often talked about the friends we have made as we have been helped on our way by the kindness of strangers. We have, however, seldom mentioned the other important community we find ourselves part of on the road; the community of fellow travelers. I am not even sure what to call these folk; overlanders perhaps or maybe voyageurs or maybe the League of Independent Travelers. We often meet on the road, or at a border crossing or at rallies or, sometimes, through friends. The friendships are quickly made and full of warmth and generosity for, most of all, we see in these people our own journey reflected back. We see our own restlessness affirmed and validated and we decide we are not the crazy ones. We know we may never find what we seek, but not to go and look, now that really would be crazy.