Colombia ... the south

While in Panama waiting for my flight to Bogota I used the airport wifi to find the name of a hotel used by another bike rider, kindly he had listed 'good hotels' on his blog. Waking up the next morning in Bogota I had to log into google maps to actually get a sense of where I was and how big Bogota is, about 8 million people and the third highest capital after Quito and La Paz. Having orientated myself I went out for a walk. I knew that others who had shipped with Girag had been made promises about arrival times which were 2-3 days out, I was in no rush to make contact with them, today was Saturday, nothing would happen on Sunday so I planned to get in touch at the start of the week.

Bogota, besides the mountains

It was strange not having the bike with me, I felt like a proper tourist and spent a few days just looking around and resting up. I also looked into the location of the cargo area at the airport and tracked down where to buy third party insurance, a must in Colombia. Bogota has an amazing history, tied in with Simon Boliva and the end of Spanish rule in South America. The streets were labelled according to their orientation to the mountains, have to say it didn't help me work out where I was at any given time. After the weekend I travelled to the airport and moved to a hotel nearby. Girag informed me that there had been a delay and with Wednesday being a public holiday (to celebrate Bolivar's victory over the Spanish) the earliest my bike would land was early Thursday morning.

on a quiet day

Making the most of this time I ditched most of my clothes and kitted myself out with new jeans and t-shirts, saves on the washing. When in Colombia the security situation is always in the back of your mind, I had no sense I was at any risk, the people I met and talked to were, as always, very friendly and helpful. The staff at the hotel really got involved in the bike import drama and helped all they could. On Thursday I went up to the airport and spent about 3 hours running between Girag and customs, at Girag there was a women called Loys who was the real star, spoke English and explained every step, I know others have spoken about her and would recommend getting in touch if you ever fancy importing your bike into Colombia. Eventually, they placed a wooden ramp out of the cargo area and allowed me to leave. The bike was all fine except it chose not to start, the cargo boys gave me a bump start and off I rode back to the hotel for one last night in the pouring rain, the hotel staff were all in the car park to help celebrate the release of the Tenere, gawd bless.

View from the hotel window

I was free to travel south towards Ecuador, I was on the road in South America, also I was at the start of a ride across Colombia which was going to take me way up high into the hills/mountains, around hairpins, into clouds and mist and cold and along warm valleys. From Bogota I headed to La Mesa and began to climb. I eventually stayed my first night back on the road in Armenia, the only guest in a wonderful and bizarrely themed hotel.

Just a great hotel

Lunch stop

I rode through Cali and down to Popayan, mostly in rain. While I was in Bogota there had been some fighting along the border with Ecuador, the FARC and Ecuadorian military had been involved so I was a little concerned what I would find as I moved south. The Colombian army where clearly visible but rarely stopped me on the bike, much more interested in local traffic.

Popayan, in the rain

After Popayan I rode up to Pasto to prepare for my next land border into Ecuador at Ipiales. On the way I pulled into a petrol station and met a group of Ecuadorian classic car owners on a rally, the wonderfully named ' Club de Autos Clasicos y Antiguos Del Ecuador'. They were very interested in my ride, I was keen on their cars. As I was heading to Ecuador they provided me with contacts in Quito should I have any problems and told me they would be back in a week and to get in touch if I was still there, a great crew. Of all the cars on the rally only one had broken down, a mini, you just can't beat British engineering.

Classic car club

It was at Pasto, over 3000 metres above sea level, that I began to feel some effects of the altitude, not too much just a 'light headedness' and some interesting breathing, as Deb said, it sort of crept up on me, I realised I would have to get used to this as Ecuador was going to be no different. After a good nights rest I headed to Ipiales and a much more straight forward border crossing than I was used to in Central America. While I was importing the bike at the border I was approached by an English teacher and his pupils, after slipping out of 'border mode' I sat and answered questions about England, my family and the Premier league. They also wanted to know what 'we' thought of Colombia, I couldn't side step the FARC/drugs thing but let them know I had been treated very well, had not felt at risk and had very much enjoyed my time there. Perhaps the media, or the Colombian government, could work harder on that side of this great country, who knows. I rode off into Ecuador (got lost) and thought about the USA State Department warning about travel in Colombia, ' Do not, under any circumstances, drive across the southern land border between Colombia and Ecuador'.

Oh well.