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Bogra is a fairly large town and the streets are seething with rickshaws, cargo bikes and three-wheeler motorcycle taxis. Upon entering the city, we were encompassed by this novel traffic jam.

The view from upstairs of the Bogra Boarding. Following the city map while navigating the traffic was nearly impossible. Fortunately we were soon adopted by a friendly man on a motorcycle who graciously led us to the guesthouse.

Our bread and banana stop wasn't even long enough to dismount the bikes, nevertheless we found ourselves surrounded by a curious crowd.

Human labor is everywhere in Bangladesh. It's rare to see the mechanical devices we take for granted in the West. A tractor would make short work of loading gravel into a small boat, but a crew of guys with simple baskets still gets the job done.

Working boat on the Jamuna River.

We spent the day looking for a way over this small system of rivers. We considered taking a ferry but it required hoisting our bikes down a treacherous riverbank. Finally we came to this large modern bridge.

Fish ponds provide a regular source of protein in small villages. The fish nets are suspended on bamboo poles that also double as diving platforms for the kids.

Intersection of differing cultures.

Our usual crowd of onlookers at lunchtime. The men push close for a good look, the women hang back and a few brave souls come close to ask questions.

Sometimes it's hard to get enough room to take a proper picture.

One nice teacher invited us to his house in the village for water and cooking and a great big staring at by the kids.

The village men are equally fascinated by our bicycles and our alien appearances.

Girls talking to Gretchen on the side of the road. They tend to be afraid of me but love to talk to a western woman on a touring bike

The roads in Bangladesh are generally nicely paved and a joy to ride. While the main highways can have some busy traffic, the secondary roads are mostly tranquil, although they don't always match the map.

Our loaded bicycles fit right in with Bangladesh's varied transportation methods, although we could use some more color.

Some local politicians, engineers and teachers who joined us for dinner in Kazipur.

After a long day of getting lost and a bit of pushing on a sandy river levee, we just couldn't say no to a dinner invitation with the local movers and shakers.

The woman on the side of the road is collecting dried cow plops for fuel. The woman on the bicycle probably ate food cooked over that fire.

We passed a number of small textile mills. This bike is carrying a spool of thread for weaving.

Young Islamic students stop to take a look at us.

Lengths of dyed cloth hung out to dry.

We got a little turned around on the road to Sirajganj and stopped to ask these high school girls for directions.