Our next destination is Medellin. It’s going to be a long ride. We exit towards Buccarramanga again and head west from there. The road is mostly in a good state of repair, except a few kilometres through be oil/gas-country, with pipelines and silos all over. The locals, together with our compass, confirm we’re heading in the right direction.

It’s very hot and humid and mountainous. I picked up another knee infection a few days ago, and the constant pressure of the knee pads on the wound, along with the sweat, are causing me grief. Just have to grit the teeth.

Later we realize that Medellin is not on the cards for us today unless we want to ride 3 hours into the night, so we keep a look out for accommodation. We follow a long, almost straight road which runs out between beautiful, lush hills of red earth and tropical forest. It looks so good and smooth that opening the throttle comes involuntarily, but the buzz is soon sobered after the second nasty pothole.

Accommodation seems nonexistent, until we reach a small village poking through the trees at the road side called Puerto Araujo. There is a restaurant and a one or two guest houses. We speak to a few people hanging about the area, including the police station nearby, to find out about the local safety situation. The place is probably alright, but we don’t have a good feeling and move on to the next town.

At sunset we pull into Puerto Berrio, just over the Magdalena river bridge. This is the 5th time we’re crossing the Magdalena (thrice at Barranquilla, once at Mompox and now here). We drive around for about an checking out hotels. There are plenty, but they are all quite expensive.

We find one along the strip running next to the Magdalena river, the port just on the other side. Hotel Nuevo Magdalena (25000COP/dbl) has basic clean rooms, 24h reception, though no internet nor bike parking, but since the owner also owns the hardware shop next door he lets us park the bike securely there once they close shop at 6PM.

The town looks somewhat seedy and we’re a bit concerned that we’re in an unsafe place, but soon feel quite at ease with the friendly assistance of the hotel staff and reassurance from other locals.

At night the town is buzzing with activity. Plenty of cafeterias serving food, shops and market stalls selling all sorts and many bars playing loud music into the night. People look stunned to see us but look friendly and unthreatening. We walk down one main street past what seems to be a number of brothels which don’t inspire much confidence, but as for the rest of the town, the atmosphere is safe and pleasant.

We stop for a sundowner at a bar near the river and retire for much needed rest.

On the way out the next morning, we discover that throughout the town there are lots of shady little nooks and crannies where people gather to eat and drink and talk, whilst cooling off from the intense sunshine. It’s a buzzing place, and we love the vibe. Apparently a bit off the tourist map, but we’re glad we happened to see it!

Road out of mompos is mostly gravel but well compressed in comparison to the way in from Magangue, until you join the main road at El Burro.

There the Via Del Sol highway takes you south on good fast tarmac, through huge palm plantations, all the way to Bucaramanga.

You can avoid going through the city by taking the roundabout turnoff to Giron and this rejoins the higway other side of Bucaramanga at Floridablanca. (ATM at the petrol station for those who need is, as we did! But don’t be surprised about an “error transmission”)

From there the road heads into steep curves up the mountains until San Gil. Plenty of truck traffic will slow you down and increase the danger factor severely. Patience advised!!! Some splendid views in the day time though and lots of fresh fruit for sale on the road sides.

San Gil is something of an adventure sports hot spot in Colombia but rafting and paragliding is not what we’ve come for.

Hostel (just named Hostel), which is on one of the steep uphill roads (Calle 12 I think) adjacent the main plaza, offers a clean double (TV/shared bath/kitchen) for 30000COP and bike parking in the lobby.

The only difficulty is getting there, because the road from the plaza is a one way downhill, so you have to go a few blocks past the main plaza, then up the steep hill to where the cobblestone street leads you back towards the hostel. Entry to the hostel is via the downhill road that leads to the plaza, and looking down it is something like standing on an olympic ski-jumping slope. From there you have to navigate up on to the pavement and a step into the house. Scary stuff

There are various good food options around including some pretty posh ones, such as the Australian pub selling home brewed beer on tap (at appropriate price of course)! But we get good charcoal grilled pollo asado two blocks east of the main square for 2000COP including the fries. There’s some good supermarkets, and great fruit/veg available at the mercado just south of the square too if you want to self cater in your hostel.

Our evening wind-down with a beer at the beautiful plaza is very nice. Some impressive trees and a beautiful square, people coming out to sit and enjoy the evening. Some guys try to sell us into a tour they will supposedly be doing with a number of Australians on motorbikes, who are staying in a nearby hostel. – We decide to do our own thing.

The following day trip out to waterfall Juan Curi is spectacular! Entry 3000COP each, it’s about 8Km drive to get there if I recall correctly, and the farm is beautiful with plenty of animals including peacocks, dwarfy chickens, and some wooden furniture like no other I’ve seen.

The journey (on foot) up to the waterfall takes about 20 minutes, it’s not very difficult. It’s gorgeous up there! Over 100m high, there is a 3 metre deep pool at the base you can swim in, and a track that you can follow further up to the higher cascades as well.

They are worth the extra energy spent walking up as they are also beautiful, but it takes a bit of bouldering to get anywhere near them because there is no simple access route.

(At times, you can absail down from this upper level to the pool at the first waterfall – for a fee.)

After our waterfall visit we move to Barricharra, which is another small colonial town, very pretty looking and undergoing much restoration. Not much to do here but the town is quaint and there are some nice old red-rock churches and other architecture, as well as an artistic park and sculptures worth seeing. A number of smart looking butique hotels are very enticing, but they look very expensive.

We leave Cartagena late, about 11:00 but we don’t have that much mileage to cover. On our way out we bump into a Canadian-Swiss couple on their way down to Tierra Del Fuego on a BMW GS1150 but we don’t have much time to talk. The journey to Santa Cruz de Mompox (spoken: Mompos) takes about 7 hours including the 45-minute ferry ride and the wait.

The nice tar bends all the way from the outskirts of Cartagena to the ferry at Magangue (straight all the way until a fork left at El Bongo) – a journey through dry hills and some flatlands. Plenty of petrol stations on the way and village stalls selling all sorts of local produce from honey to empanadas to fresh orange juice. Amiable soldiers give thumbs-up at the various military checkpoints. Even at 100Km/h there is not much respite from the crushing heat.

The ferry dock is just about 5 minutes out of town, a taxi driver points us in the right direction. A couple of guys offered their boat services from an earlier ‘jetty’ but getting my bike into their little vessels seemed a bit too adventurous for us. It’s no more than a sandy slope down into the river next to a little tienda/restaurant. They make an excellent fresh orange juice there. They told me the following ferry times there (some are large and others small, but apparently able to take cars):

– Magangue-La Bodega: 05:00, 08:00, 10:00, 13:00, 15:00, 16:00 – La Bodega-Magangue: 06:00, 08:00, 09:00, 13:00, 16:00

After the crossing the road varies between asphalt and gravel and there is about 20Km which is solely gravel and sand, sometimes dangerously loose and deep. It’s a half hour of fist-clenching riding but very doable and worth the destination. On the road side there are villages small, happy looking villages and people are going about their business and looking content.

We check into the Casa Amarrilla (http://www.lacasaamarillamompos.com) next to the Iglesia Santa Barbara (15000CLP/dorm bed). We have a little disagreement because when we get there we’re told we can park the bike somewhere inside the hostel but then later are denied. We’re not happy to park in the car park down the road which they recommend, but they resolve the situation satisfactorily by arranging with the lady next door for us to park our bike in her garage. Casa Amarrila is a beautiful hostel, a large colonial edifice with a small garden courtyard in its centre, dorm and private rooms, excellent kitchen / dining area and a roof terrace which makes the perfect nighttime escape into the breeze above the rooftops. There aren’t lockers in the rooms but small padlock lockers are provided for valuables at the reception desk.

At about the same time a few nice folks of our age-group stay there, respectively from Austria, Germany, Australia and Belgium. We enjoy the like-minded company and speaking in our native languages for a change and our stay extends to three nights.

Mompox is so laid back it’s asleep. It is a small town with one main avenue and many side roads. The architecture is beautiful antique Spanish colonial – big, wide walls, large doorways and doors of ancient wood with brass studs and big, antique padlocks. Simply magnificent. People are super-friendly and seem to be of the more sensible village-type, as yet uncorrupted by trends and fashions of the main stream and money. Everyone here is up for a conversation and curious to know where you come from and what you think. We think we’ve finally encountered the Colombia we were hoping to find. Things are looking up!

There’s a really interesting phenomenon going on at the park just opposite the hostel: on the dry ground, underneath the massive trees, there are two little bars which open in the afternoon and carry on until about 3 in the night. Each is run by a different owner, and each is about the size of a shoe box – literally only big enough for the guy and his beer fridges inside, and there’s a flap-window which opens on one side. Around there is a scattered collection of plastic garden furniture for the guests.

Each bar comes with a music system and a set of large speakers. Each owner seems to have their own taste in music. So, what happens here at night is, they both start playing their preferred tunes and turn up the volume so loud as to drown out the sound of the other. This has the interesting effect of making either music barely recognizable in the cacophony, and guests sitting on the garden furniture have to shout to each other to talk.

Who would have thought….

This town is in fact a very important historical city. Perched on the largest river-island (possibly in the world, I may have read?), smack-bang in the middle of the mighty Rio Madeira, which runs from far in-land right out to the port of Barranquilla, it was once an extremely rich Spanish colonial port, through where riches would flow to and from the country’s inner. (And boy, were there riches! There are old tales from the Spanish colonists of gold nuggets strewn across river banks. Not to mention the Emeralds.) Also the country’s mint was here.

But that all ended for Mompox when the river silted up (I can only imagine why) and the route was no longer viable.

In the day it’s searing hot. Taking a midday walk something of a health risk, though this can be worked around by sticking to shady spots and making occasional beer stops at the tiendas along the way. At night a light breeze descends, people park their wooden rocking-chairs outside their front doors or sit on the old park benches and enjoy the nighttime respite and each others’ company.

At night there’s good food around the Plaza Santo Domingo for around 7000 Pesos and some of the best fruit smoothies we’ve ever encountered in S.America – notably the mix of Goyaba (Guava) and Tomate de Arbol (Tomato of the Tree). We’re very pleased to have come to this place. We were hoping to escape the usual city hecticness by coming to a place less easily accessible, and this time we’ve found just that.

When you’re in the North of Colombia travelling by road, and you have a time limit, you have a decision to make.

…by motorbike or by donkey cart?

Do you want to ride down the West side of the Rio Madeira and see Cartagena, Medellin, Cali and Popayan?
Or will you chose the East side, and see Bucaramanga, Bogota and Cali and/or Popayan?

You see, the thing with Colombia is that, in this large country there are two North-South highways reaching down the country. They run more or less in line with the two cordilleras that divide up the country, and the cross-overs are considerably long and few and far between. Therefore if you want so see Bucaramanga and Bogota as well as Cartagena and Medellin, you’ll be spending quite a lot of time and mileage zig-zag-and-looping across the land. – All time well spent, of course!

Cartagena everybody wants to see, and most trans-continental bikers arrive at so that already puts you on the West side. That road down takes you past Medellin, Salento (ca. Armenia), Cali, Popayan, Pasto and Ipiales – the exit point. On the East side the attractions are mainly San Gil (ca. Bucaramanga) and Bogota.

If you want to have the cake and eat it, the most recommendable cross-overs would be:
– Magangue to El Banco (with a few days stop in Mompox)
– Salento (via Armenia) to Bogota
– The Medellin to Bucaramanga road is mostly good road and has some nice scenery, but there’s not much out there.
– There is also an El Carmen to Bosconia route but my research found that there’s not much out there and it’s largely bad road.

We have it in mind to see Mompox, an old colonial settlement of (past) great importance, and during our test rides beyond Cartagena we liked the scenery, so we pass up the idea of heading down the 45 at Cienaga and instead return to Cartagena, to do the loop that way. Besides, we haven’t really had much chance to enjoy this beautiful Catragena. Most of our time here was just quick rest stops during test rides. We deserve our chance to be tourists as well no?

Decision made: Cartagena, here we come again!

We get a place at Hotel Familiar once again and spend a three days exploring the city. It’s awesome, and a feast for the eyes! I’ll let the photos do the talking….

Pssst! There’s a mini carnaval in town…

Working in the Rain Forest

In Venezuela we promised we’d come by and work, so that’s what we do.

The first project I get working on is a small canal to take some stagnant water in the clearing away to the river. The water has collected there from the hose and rains and makes a wonderful breeding ground for mosquitoes, aside from that, a pain to step through. I dig a canal about 50x50cm all the way down the property towards the foot path, where it can spill down into the river. It’s a muddy business!

The second thing we notice is that the rubbish bags are collected in one place to be carried out to the main road, but it’s on a slope creating a mess and an eye sore which the dogs can get to and rip the bags up, so we build a big rubbish basket out of bamboo and plastic mesh which Gloria has in her shed.

Ebru suggests the idea of putting up a water fountain for the hose pipe, so that it doesn’t remain lying on the floor and inconvenient to make use of. Gloria likes the idea, so Ebru engages me and we get started with what is to become known as the “Fuente del Amor” or “Fountain of Lurve”. (Gloria’s choice of name.)

I, in my general overly complicated way, start the whole thing with a big solid foundation, and from there on, the whole project becomes a good deal bigger and harder to do. (Even in the end I cannot achieve exactly what I pictured in the beginning because it’s just too complicated.) But nevermind, the hope is that it will last, in which case it’s worth it. For three whole days we work on this fountain.

First the foundation. Then we need rocks. Big rocks. And even bigger rocks. Those need to come from the river, so eventually we have everyone at the camp dragging rocks over from up the river. Some of them are so big eventually, it takes four of us to lift them.

Carrying all these rocks on the soft ground has turned the entire area surrounding the fountain-to-be to slippery mud. First we get buckets of dry river sand to pour on top, but this only helps a little. So I go chopping down some of the huge bamboo logs (at this size you have to call them logs) growing in the area, split them open and use these to create a temporary floor, which works well.

…the sweat will eliminate your mozzi-rep in minutes, but mud is plentiful and seems to help protect your skin from bites…

It’s definitely the lingering memories of Machu Picchu and the which seem to have inspired the image of this construction, but now I realize how horrendously difficult it is to build stuff out of rocks in this way! It’s back-breaking work! Well we’ve started now, so we must carry on to the finish…

Some well placed flat base stones are placed in front of the foundation, where all the water splash will be, so that this isn’t allowed to wash away the surrounding soil and make the whole thing unstable again. Then come the large base stones of the fountain. Because I don’t want these to move at any cost, I use some of the cement Gloria has in the shed to fix these together – Miriam ensures the mix is good as she knows about that side of things.

PS: in hind-sight, avoid cement with natural rocks if you can, it just doesn’t look right…

Then multiple other rocks are laid on top of each other, ending with a very large flat rock at the top. (The idea was for this to serve as a sort of work surface, but mounting the hose there and ensuring the water doesn’t go everywhere but the canal is another mission altogether, so it serves more aesthetically in the end.) The hose passes into the structure from behind, holding it so the water streams into the canal from a handy height.

Now the only thing is that the area aside the canal and fountain is quite muddy and ugly, so what do we do about that? Well, we’ll build a floor of course!

Back to the river we go, to find as many flat rocks as we can, to use like tiles. Of course the larger their surface, the less we need, but these are rarely very thin. I have found that some rocks can be split down the middle with a strike on the right place, but even so, they don’t create a level surface by laying them on the ground. Therefore we have to extract a layer of soil about 10cm deep from the area, to place the rocks in, now flush with the surrounding floor. However it doesn’t look very neat and in this soft ground they squash around as you step on them.

What’s the solution? More rocks of course! So off to the river we go again. First, a ring of large rocks around the edge to serves a sort of stabilizing frame. These are also sunk into the ground to about half their depth. Then smaller ones, and these we place in the gaps where they fit naturally, and others are driven in between the rocks vertically on the long side with a hammer, which creates tension in the whole matrix as the rocks now push out against each other and the frame, creating a nice ridgid surface to walk on. – Fascinating, really.

The last batch of small rocks is then used to fill the remaining small grooves of mud, interspersed with dry river sand, to create a level finish and soak up the remaining mud. I use a 2Kg hammer and a masonry chisel to disintegrate the larger surface protrusions which would create a trip hazard, and there we go! Turned out better than expected.

For practicality of use, I place a couple of remaining pieces of thick wood across the canal, about a metre or so ahead of the fountain, which serve as a step, sit or stand on when washing something or rinsing your gum boots directly in the channel.

We’re done! But since we’ve come this far, why not make it more pleasing to the eye? There are a few old pieces of tree trunk and exquisite roots lying around, which we place around the, what I like to call, ‘terrace’. As we’re in the jungle they fit perfectly into the picture. Then I recall that, while I was digging the run-off channel the other day, I displaced a load of plants in the way, which I put aside with the thought of re-planting elsewhere. Using a few buckets full of the soil mounds remaining from all the canal digging, we create some nice fertile beds between the large bordering rocks and the logs around the terrace, then plant the plants in there.

How perfectly convenient! Most of what came out went back in somewhere, and in the end the whole thing looks like something that might have naturally existed there from the start. It’s been an education in hard physical labour. Gloria seems to love it, and it seems to make life on the finca a good deal easier, so we’re really happy with it.

Ebru has forbidden me any more work. Our last few day here are to be spent enjoying the waterfall and surroundings!

But, as the saying goes, no good deed goes without its punishment. And thus, all this canal digging and fountain building has resulted in a little creek across the foot-path, which could get in the way of visiting day tourists. What to do?

Miriam suggests we extend the runoff-trench across the foot path. Of course we’re not going to let her do it all alone, so on come the working boots again. We dig the trench across the footpath. Gloria reckons the open trench would be a hazard for passing horses, so would need to be covered – hmmm… simple.

The water spills out from underneath Gloria’s bamboo fence, down a slope of a couple of metres, then into the canal and down to the river. Flowing water will surely erode all this in time, so we use more rocks to build a cascade system to guide the water down into the canal. We then also need to pad out the floor and walls of the canal with flat rocks to ensure that doesn’t grow out of proportion. Where do the rocks come from? Further up the river!

Never had I imagined this little 5 metres of channel to be such a huge mission! Digging and moving the earth is the easy part. Getting the rocks and placing them selectively adjacent to each other, sculpting out the ground to lay them in at just the right elevation and angle… forget about using large flat rocks and laying them across the top to cover it! Just finding and carrying the rocks of the right size and shape would be difficult enough; then setting everything underneath in a manner that the lid-rocks would make a flat surface would be torturous! And we don’t have the additional hands, and really don’t have the energy left for that.

…Miriam in action – this girl is as tough as nails!…

Further up-river is a remainder of a huge tree that was taken down for timber. It’s so large that the few shavings off the trunk that were discarded are big planks themselves. We take one of these, about 3 metres long, half a metre wide, and about 10cm thick, to use as a lid for the channel.

Length-wise it fits perfectly, but the one (uncut) side is rounded and we have to graft like hell to get the thing to lie even and stably on top of the bed of rocks. Eventually we do it flat-side-down, which leaves us with a bit of a bulge on the walk-way, but it will have to do. We use some sand and gravel from the river to pad off the edges a bit and make the transition to the bulge as soft as possible. We’re spent!

Enough! I can’t take any more. I enforce a work ban on myself. Let’s go to the waterfall!

By evening times we’re exhausted. We head for the river or waterfall for a soothing bath before the sun sets. The jungle surrounds us, the only sounds are those of the water and the birds and insects. The little fish come to investigate us and nip at our broken skin. Back at the finca we devour the delicious stews that Gloria has cooked and watch the fire flies fill the air. – Fair deal.

That’s life on the finca. Facilities are basic and limited so best be prepared with what you need, such as insect rep, toilet paper, tent or (better yet) hammock, mozzi net, torch & batteries, swiss army knife, first aid kit, towel, money, (how about a board game). Don’t being in stuff that’ll result in a lot of rubbish, that which you do bring, be sure to take back out. For an internet cafe you have to take a bus to the next village, about half an hour drive, and for a cash machine it might even have to be Santa Marta. If you put in some effort to help out and have a good bunch of people around you, you’re sure to enjoy it. (We’d love to hear from anyone who’s been there since! Please drop us a comment below.)

Note for motorcyclists:
If you do wish to visit here with your trusty mare/steed, I just want you to be aware of a few difficulties.
– Number one is the river crossing, which is in itself no big deal as long as the river is low. Getting into the river bed can either be accomplished by heading straight down the edge or a longer more gradual ramp closer to the main road off-ramp, behind the hut – also best for coming out. Both of these could be a bit dangerous with baggage (or without).
– The dirt path to the finca is narrow and entails some sleek manoeuvring over bumps and at time mud ruts. There are people and horses en route so be careful and respect nature.
– Once at Gloria’s you have a bit of a manoeuvre to turn the bike on the path and then run it up a slope with stone steps into the finca clearing. I off-loaded and had someone support my bike whilst ramping up, but with a bigger that might be tough… but you’ll figure something out I’m sure…
– If Gloria is puzzled by your random appearance, let her know we sent you and I think it’ll be fine. (We said we’d be pointing people to her place)
– More hints on getting there in this post.

…exiting at the first river crossing…

Hey here’s an idea for you: when you get there, why not get big rocks from the river and integrate a nice ramp into the Chez Gloria entrance stairway for easy motorbike access? (I’d have done it of course, but as you know, I was banned from doing any more work ;)) ENJOY!

Gracias Gloria del Mar! Te deseamos lo mejor. Hast luego!

We’ve been stuck so long on the Northern coast of Colombia that we’re itching to get going South. There is some attraction to visit the Tayrona national park, but that would mean leaving the bike behind somewhere and carrying our supplies and equipment through the jungle for an hour or more to get to the coastal settlements. And furthermore it’s supposed to be relatively expensive, with a stiff park entry fee and considerable charges for accommodation (about 15000COP for a hammock) and any food and drink bought there – fair enough, perhaps the best way to make sure it stays pristine. It’s supposed to be beautiful, but then, according to the guide books Taganga was also supposed to be. We give it a miss.
UPDATE: We do hear from a number of other travellers further down the line that it is very beautiful indeed.

We’ve been debating in our minds whether we should still go and check out Chez Gloria, the finca in Quebrada Valencia, which we learned about in Venezuela. We promised we would do so – about four weeks earlier though! The thought of a bit of living rough in the rain forest of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta National Park is tempting. What the hell, let’s check it out!

This time we get there by day light, so the whole river crossing manoeuvre is easier, though the water level has definitely risen by now. Hopefully we will be able to get back out! The ride into this ravine is almost as magical as it was when we did it during the night – bamboo ‘storks’ the width of my thigh, incredibly tall trees with interesting growths living on them, thick vines hanging across wide spaces.

Gloria is clearly surprised to see us. We said we’d return after a week, but it’s been five weeks now. None the less we’re still welcomed in and we go and set up camp on the clearing under one of the massive trees. This is a beautiful place!

The layout is, as you come off the dirt path following the river, there is a clearing in the jungle. Here is the open-plan kitchen-hut with clay oven and open fire stove, a small working area and adjacent, something resembling a breakfast bar. The building is made of wood and bamboo, some stone flooring, the roof is of some type of grass or palm leaf. There is a clearing behind that with a few upright posts – something waiting to become a building – and another table for drying cacao.

Gloria’s house is at the end of a steep stone path up the hill. Low stone walls and floor, it’s open to the air, with a grass roof. A couple of beds there, space for a few hammocks and a small kitchen in the corner. This is also where the only toilet and shower is.

Gloria, the owner of this finca, is a Colombian lady in her sixties, who spent a number of years in France. She has moved out here permanently – and acclimatized pretty well. I certainly haven’t met any other women of her age who walk almost everywhere bare-footed and can swing a large axe like she can.

Cacao

She runs a little ‘in house’ business (outdoors) here: She bakes organic cookies and cakes to sell to day-tourists that walk by on their way to the waterfall. We’re really fascinated by the process – which introduces us intimately with (arguably) one of the world’s most precious substances… Cacao. (Or you may know it as “Cocoa”)

This mystical tree grows in the tropical climes and produces large pods, which turn shades of yellow and red as they mature. Inside the cacao pod are beans covered in a soft white flesh which can be eaten – kind of like a lychee. The beans themselves are then used to produce many things, butters, creams, powders and drinks, but most popularly that magical brown gold called chocolate!

(Actually, it takes a lot of work to maintain a plantation that will produce high quality cacao. And it’s one of the things the world wouldn’t want to live without – after all, who wants to start the morning without a cup of coffee or go to bed without chocolate for desert? And yet cacao farmers, whom solely exist in a few places like Colombia, Venezuela, West Africa and Indonesia don’t get much in return for their labours – just like the coffee and banana producers of this world I suppose. Strange eh?)

Gloria harvests ripe cacao pods in the jungle – yes, this means another mission with a machete. We eat the delicious flesh and drop the seed into a canvas bag where they ferment a while. She then dries these on her drying table.

Once dry, they are roasted and peeled. The cacao beans are then ground finely and added into the cookie batter, which also contains fresh milk, which Gloria walks an hour every morning to get from the neighbouring farm.

I say “mystical” because a long list of beneficial properties is tied to this plant – including defence against disease and ailments, physical and mental well-being, even aphrodisiacal properties. (Just watch the film Chocolat for an intro;)) And relatively few have the pleasure of having access to it “fresh from the earth”. So we relish this opportunity!

Living in the Rain Forest

Living out here is going back to basics. I mean not quite bushman basics, but about as close as you can get while still affording yourself a few of the most intimate comforts: clean water, a very small grocery store within a half hours walk, and a flushing toilet. No electricity, no gas. Everything else requires human effort.

To cook you need fire. And to make fire you need wood. Wood comes from fallen trees in the rain forest. Finding dead trees in the rain forest requires good boots, a machete, an axe, preferable a saw, decent sense of orientation, high tolerance for large insects and good tolerance for mosquito bites (your repellent will only be so helpful).

The machete is used to clear a path through the thicket until you find your tree. Chances are that this will be on a steep slope somewhere, so watch your step. Then use a combination of axe, saw and machete to divide the trunk into a number of manageable sections, about one to 1 1/2 metres long. Then convey them back down the path you entered by towards the camp. Some good gloves would be recommendable.

Well done, you deserve a break. As fires go, particularly under the jungle canopy, where things never really dry out completely, you will need kindling to catch flame, small pieces of wood to put on top of that and some larger pieces for general burning. Start by using the axe to beat the wood you just brought from the jungle until it splits into smaller pieces. (If you’re not sure how, watch Gloria.) The machete should be helpful to make the kindling. It would be smart as well as courteous to chop enough to last the whole day or more. (By the way, never strike a machete on stone as it disrupts its delicate balance, making it a pain to use.)

Excellent, now let’s get a fire going. Anyone volunteering to cook lunch?

What do we have to eat? Gloria’s been on a mission through the forest herself and has brought back a few avocados, a mango and some cacao. That’s a good start, but someone will have to go for a walk to the store and get some rice and things – DON’T FORGET THE BEER! See you in an hour or two.

We generally use shopping trips as an opportunity to spend an hour or two away from the finca, and sit down at the little tienda to drink beer and listen to music. It’s a welcome break from being under the canopy.

Yes, so, life is pretty bare out here but also very beautiful. There’s a reason this place has been declared a national park, and in fact this is an ecosystem so small and unique that it could very easily be destroyed. Therefore it is imperative that whoever goes there treats it with respect. (I sincerely hope that electricity, gas and guest houses never see the light of day here, because the more comforts, the more people, and the more people, the more waste and destruction.) There are actually various indigenous communities living within this area, some of them remnants of the Tayrona culture which was all but wiped out during Spanish colonization.

Gloria accepts a small number of people to stay here at Chez Gloria and enjoy the unique surroundings, in exchange for helping her maintain the daily running of the place. The primary ways to contribute are to bring food from the store or neighbouring villages, to cook meals, to clean up, and of course to collecting and chopping wood, and carrying rubbish out of the Finca.

Other than that there is gardening and construction jobs, depending on what is currently going on. Ask Gloria and she will surely point you in the right direction. And if you feel the initiative to do or make something that’ll benefit the place, speak to her about it.

The main attraction up here, which brings in quite a few day-tourists walking by, is the waterfall about 20 minutes walk further into the ravine. It’s spectacular! It’s a rocky cascade, easily 100 metres tall, with water splashing down from one rock pool into the next, all of which you can swim in. The final pool is at the bottom, already covered by the forest canopy, and from here on flows the river, out towards the sea.

The sea is also under an hours walk from the Finca. You have to walk past a few other coconut and cattle farms to get there, and you come out at a long beach, beautiful and isolated. There are a number of surfing lodges and such, further along the beach, but during our visit there were no more than two people to be seen here aside from ourselves. And they serve as a good place to get a refreshment if you haven’t brought anything.

Back at the ranch, if you want to wash after a hard day’s work, there are two options:
1 the shower in Gloria’s bungalow
2 the river – a lovely, refreshing option (DON’T use any soaps because it’s alive with thousands of little fish and river shrimp)
The only other running water is in a long hose which catches its contents from a spring further up the mountain and beings it near the kitchen area for cooking and washing of equipment.

We spend two weeks out here during this visit. It’s hard going but we love it. Miriam, a lovely French girl, is staying here at the moment too – she’s very skilled with her hands and she loves getting them dirty, so we get along really well.

The most difficult thing is getting some sort of arrangement going that someone takes care of getting food and cooking meals. It’s really tough and annoying when you’ve worked your ass off all morning and you’re looking forward to lunch, but there isn’t any food and nobody’s been to get any. Then you can take an hours walk to get food and go through the whole fire making and cooking process – not fun.

It’s far easier to cook for everyone, because with the single kitchen, effort involved, and limited firewood which will need to be replenished before you know it, it’s not realistic everybody doing their own thing. So if you’ve got a good group together and everybody shares in the work, life on the finca is good fun.

Which reminds me – ultimate jungle breakfast: fried platano (plantane) and spring onion in scrambled egg, cubed fresh mango on the side. Try it!

There are a couple of other short-term visitors that pop by for a day or two but except for one Spanish chap who does lend a strong hand, we don’t see too much of the others.

Some local snacks sold down the road…

…continued in the next post… click here!

As we head out of Barranquilla I start to ride the engine harder. I followed Honda’s conservative recommendations conservatively for the first 1000Km but it’s time to put more pressure on.

I’ve read that on modern engines you want to burn in with bursts of heavy combustion pressure to get the piston rings and cylinder ideally honed. I did give this a try during the fist 100Km after the re-bore, by hard acceleration and engine braking but I didn’t exceed the 5000RPM line just to be sure not to invalidate Honda’s guarantee on the work.

The engine feels powerful. It pushes hard through all the gears except 5th, where it is weak, though as I hit 5000RPM even 5th seems to be coming right. Hope this will be the case when I can open up fully. There’s a high pitched ‘crrrr’-ing noise in time with the valve clicks but I think it may be something else. Something more akin to clapping the hollows of two nut shells together. In my head I try to analyse: head gasket leak; detonation; perhaps incorrect valve setting… but from all I have visually verified til now I cannot see anything wrong except the minor head gasket leak, so I try to eliminate my paranoid thoughts and enjoy the ride. It really is time to move on!

The road out of Barranquilla takes us over a long bridge crossing the Rio Madeira (our second crossing). From where we see several large ships moored at what looks like petrochemical factories. Then we revisit that notorious stretch of road which belts us with terrible gusts of wind from the open sea. Scary shit! I have to lean the bike sideways into the wind to keep it going straight, while my body’s upright, counterbalancing. I try to keep the bike going at about 60Km/h max. – as slow as possible to allow some reaction time when those walls of air hit, but not slow enough to destabilize balance on this heavy machine.

About 50Km out we hit the back end of a long queue of trucks and cars. Of course we overtake, thinking they’re all in line for a toll gate, which doesn’t apply to motorbikes anyway. However when after a few kilometres we reach the toll gate and pass through, we see that the queue continues on the other side.

It must be about 10Km ahead that we meet the cause of the problem. We don’t understand it but it looks like some sort of a road block in protest of something. The first two trucks in either direction have a couple of truck tyres laid in front of them as a sort of barricade. A crowd of people is gathered there, some of them being quite argumentative. It’s in a slummy looking area near the coast line – not good. We see some scooters pass through and we make a break for it. We get though carefully and unharmed. Two cops on a motorbike pass in our direction on the “wrong” side of the road – probably to go and get the traffic situation cleared up but then who knows. I don’t want to be in their shoes.

We reach Santa Marta by dark. We ask a moto taxi which just happens to be picking up a young lady and child on their way there and they offer us to follow. Taganga! Finally we have our chance to do some diving, but at least enjoy some long awaited beach time.

As we get there it starts to rain. For five weeks we’re been baking in dry Barranquilla, waiting for the motorcycle to get fixed, and now as we’re free to go and head for the beach, we get pissed on. Great, I say to Ebru, this is so clearly a set-up. What the heck, I’m happy. We park the bike under a shelter and enter a little bodega (corner store) for a rest break and a cold beer before the dreaded hostel search. Then there’s a power failure, and the whole town goes dark. – Wonderful!

The light does eventually come back on, and eventually goes back out and comes back on again. We check out nearly every accommodation in town. Taganga isn’t very cheap. The minimum they’re charging is about 10USD per person, which means 20USD (40000COP) the double. Tough shit. At Maria hostel right near Don Felipe (which is full) we negotiate 35000COP per night based on a 3 night stay. The hostel is alright, with wifi, roof terrace, clean room, but the kitchen is disgusting – this especially owing to one couple staying there at the moment – but the staff don’t see it as their responsibility to clean it up any more.

The little pizza/burger stand two steps down the road serves us up a surprisingly good burger and fries for 5000COP each. Along with the cold Aguila we bought from the corner shop next door it’s just about managed to get us in a good mood again. That night we sleep like corpses.

We spend 5 days here. Unfortunately Taganga is not the tranquil paradise we were hoping for. The beach is a bit dirty (too many visitors), the water is a bit murky and there are beer bottles and cups to be found resting on the sea floor among the sea-plants – however, fortunately, also a few bank notes.

The centre (main street on the beach front) is full of touts trying to sell tourists drugs and hand-craft. Here I seriously find myself wondering whether the street-side hand-craft stall is just a front for drug dealing. Anyway, it’s super touristy.

We walk over the arid hill to the neighbouring beach. It all looks beautiful from above. Down in the bay we’re offered a beach with clearer water, but again it’s fairly crowded.

We are actually ready to leave after three days but we were looking forward to dive for so long, and we decide to do it.

Tripadvisor shows up Poseidon and Octopus as the best reputed (by user review) diving organizations here, so we go and check them out. Poseidon is definitely the better choice!

Our personal visits conclude that Octopus’ equipment is damaged (BDCs with broken deflater cords etc.) and not well maintained (air tanks with sandy valves and worn O-rings). So we go with more costly, but much better organized, Poseidon, run by a German guy. Two dives cost 150000COP, both done in one set including small lunch.

As for the diving environment, visibility was terrible (no more than 10m), the scenery a bit disappointing (lots of dead coral.) On our second dive there was a strong current, which made matters worse. What really blew our minds is that while we were down there, two charges of DYNAMITE were set off by some nearby fishing boats! This is in what’s meant to be a national reserve!

The dive leader sent Ebru up with one of the other guys who was also low on air. It was very choppy on top so getting back on the boat was straining and Ebru felt sick. All in all we weren’t impressed. – But we have to keep in mind that we have seen some pretty fine dive sites (see Fiji and Philippines), which we always compare to.

What were the costs, approximately?

2,108,000COP Fixing the bike (Though I very probably missed a thing or two in that number)
925,000COP Accommodation
700,000 Food & Drink
———————————————
TOTAL 3733000COP or just over 2000USD

But today, 15th of March 2013, we depart to face the great wi[l]de world once again!

With a roughly 500Km ride yesterday the bike engine has seen its first 1000 kilometres and I take the bike to Honda Supermoto Atlantico first thing in the morning for the prescribed oil and -filter change. I thought I heard something like CAM chain tensioner related clacking during yesterday’s ride so I have them change the currently installed after-market chain tensioner I got in Boa Vista for the Honda original part I bought as a spare here. While we’re at it I also get them to verify valve clearance to be sure nothing’s run astray there. It costs me 35000COP plus the 2 x Motul full synth oil I bought for 25000COP per litre.

Before midday I’m back at our temporary home and ready to get packing. We won’t be hanging around in the area until we complete the next 2000Km until the next scheduled oil change is due; we’ve been here far too long already! We just have to hope the bike makes it.

Suddenly Ebru has a brainwave – the same brainwave I had a few days ago but she didn’t hold in such high esteem at the time: perhaps before we leave Barranquilla, we should go to Johnny Laptop and get Ebru a new LCD screen. Even if it is the AUO model which failed us before, at least she’ll have a screen. Glad she came to her senses.

An hour later we’re at Johnny’s shop and a new screen gets installed in Ebru’s laptop. In fact Fortuna has been so kind to us, Johnny has managed to source got a Samsung LTN116 model somewhere, which is compatible and higher quality than the other generic type, which gives us peace of mind. Also it’s a matt display which means we don’t have to worry about glare. Johnny has fixed us up twice now and we’ve decided he’s our hero in Colombia. For five months we have been without the use of our laptops and finally, here in Barranquilla, this man has managed to get us the replacements we need – new, good quality for an honest price (I can’t remember exactly but it was about 110USD). You can’t ask for more than that!

Thanks Johnny, you’re our Colombian hero! Give us a shout if you ever swing by our neighbourhood.

Here are his details if you ever need a Laptop repair in Colombia:
JB Service & Repairs, Local 1308, Parque Central, Carrera 53/50-12
Johnny E Barros – jbservices_repair@hotmail.com
Tel: 3702478 Cell: 3004470167 / 3126425899

Back at the house we load up the motorbike and get ready to go. It’s been such a long time since we’ve loaded up fully I was wondering if I’d remember how to do it.

The great escape. Another great escape! Can this be happening? I feel nervous. I feel like at any moment my legs might fail and I’ll drop the bike. Getting out on the big long road again seems foreign and a little scary. This has obviously been quite an ordeal for us.

It’s 16:00 by the time we leave Barranquilla. It’s not far to Santa Marta, only about 120Km but we’re sure to head into traffic and strong winds, so it’ll take us a couple of hours to get there. We could have waited for the following morning but we’ve been in one place long enough and every day we delay is time and money down the pan.

We say goodbye to Brenda (Garret is out) and saddle up to go. Our big moment has finally arrived. Funny how we picture the arrival of big moments in our lives as intimate, slow-moving events, but when they arrive they’re come and gone in a flash, you don’t even seem to have the time to realize they’re happening.
(Lesson there, perhaps? Celebrate hard the day before…)

Well, despite all the head ache we’ve been through in this town, I have to reflect back and say:

After having spent a good while here in normal residential accommodation, I can say that I like it. It’s got a flair about it: the same bed each night, kitchen to cook your food, same private bathroom…

And Barranquilla itself: popping down to the street corner for a casual beer, the constant ring of Colombian music in the scorching air, the wandering bands of (generally old and somewhat drunk) men moving through the streets, playing music for a few bucks or a drink… the interesting foods (like cheese-guava bocadillos) and heavenly, refreshing drinks (like coco-limon)… 24 hour bakeries, a huge pizza slice for a buck… and the general good-natured, talkative and fun-loving attitude of the local people… and of course, not to forget, the Carnaval and the good company of our friends (!)…

…yes (bike mechanics aside), we did have fun in Barranquilla!

In fact, we have to leave ASAP or we might never move on!

Adios Barranquilla, it’s been ‘REAL’!

Garret & Brenda, thank you so much for arranging us a place to stay and showing us around Barranquilla, thus offering us more of an ‘insider’ insight into the country than most travellers might receive – the the food, the habits, the culture etc. We had some tough issues on our minds, but over all, Barranquilla was awesome! Thanks again for showing us a good time!

OK, we do still have a whole lot of Colombia to explore, so we’re not saying goodbye to this wonderful country, it’s people and culture just yet! Posts to follow…

Aside from the parts delivery we want to agree on a final price for everything, and since we’re going to be spending a small fortune here, we expect there will be decent guarantees on parts and labour. When we do manage to speak to Andres, he states that, of course everything will be guaranteed, yet he is uncertain about the exact extent, he thinks it’s six months. But he he promises to confirm that – with much deliberation. As for the final pricing, he gives me individual parts pricing but says the final price he can only work out when the work is done as he cannot discount individual items, only all the work as a whole.

A few days later he says that the work is guaranteed for 60 days, but parts do not come with a guarantee. This I find ridiculous and I tell him I will be expecting a decent guarantee on everything.

The whole procedure takes over a week, but finally by Monday 4th of March all the parts have been delivered to Honda Atlantico and in theory we should be ready to get some work done. We are relieved! The bad news is that no head gasket was available anywhere. Honda would need 30-45 days to get one from factory which is unacceptable, and the one I bought in Boa Vista, Brazil doesn’t fit. I have no choice but to keep on going with the one I have in place now. It has served well so far with only a very slight leak, but that has not changed in thousands of kilometres, so I think it will be ok.

We agree to do the surgery on Tuesday the 5th starting 07:30: cylinder re-bore, piston and rings replacement, new valve seals, cam shaft bearing, new clutch springs and friction disks.

First thing, I ask Horacio the workshop manager, to confirm to me a list of all the items of work to be done, so we can be ‘on the same page’. He ignores me. Fist thing he does is go to the workshop and gives the mechanic all the spares, including what looks like a set of clutch separator disks, and tells him to get started. Of course that gets me pissed off already. He ignores me when I try to get his attention, so I have to actually reprimand him in order to get him listening.

Next I’m in the office with Horacio and Andres and I’m about to go ballistic! I’ve had enough of this arrogant workshop manager treating me like an idiot! I for once want them to agree to a plan of action and stick to it! I’ve spent so many days chasing them up, trying to get them to finalize a diagnosis, a list of work to be done, a list of costs, and share that list with me so that I know what’s going on. They were apparently too dumb to manage that, and now they’re wondering why I’m throwing a tantrum, when they just casually snuk in an additional set of items into the work list without telling me?!

“But the separator disks are out of spec,…” utters Horacio The Dim. Three times they have had the chance to review the clutch properly, and so I have requested each time, and also that it be done according to the service manual specifications, so that we can be sure nothing has been missed or misinterpreted. Three times they have some back with different solutions that failed, but never a mention of any separator disks! However, here we are once again, and the mechanic realizes that another set of parts needs to be replaced! They’ve pushed me to the point where even I am feeling nasty and sarcastic. Surprisingly Ebru is the one that reigns me in a bit.

I demand that Horacio prove to me that these disks are not in spec. After making a few flippant attempts, he disappears off to get the manual and returns, demonstrating that they are no longer even when placed on a flat surface. Fair enough, this I can accept. But why only NOW?? And what of your bullshit diagnosis of “glazed friction disks”, which you last determined to be the problem, and, may I state for the record, you tried to hold me responsible for??! WANKER!

What’s the cost? 6 Separator disks, totalling a whopping 130000.00COP. Of course every time we have to do this I need to buy or provide another gasket and 2 litres of engine oil (50000.00COP).

By 09:30 23 finally get started with the work. The engine is dismantled, parts are sent off, and then we’re stuck waiting for the cylinder, which will be ready at 14:00.

Of course the cylinder only arrives at 15:00. The cylinder bore looks unreliable to me, as I can still see slight remains of the scratches inside, but Horacio The Dim tells me that it’s “nothing to worry about.” I’ve heard that before, so I demand that he take it to the factory where the bore was done and bring me a certification that it’s to spec. He promises to get that when he goes over to the factory to get the cylinder head, whose valve stems are being cleaned right now. But he returns back with just a strip of paper, written down on it is the new cylinder diameter, as supposedly measured by the factory: 85.75mm.

…Did I ever say anything about doing business in South America?… But I don’t have the energy to push more on the subject. I believe he has had it checked with a LAZER gauge as he says. If it solves the oil consumption and white smoke problem it must be OK and we’ll know soon enough.

At the end of the day, the work cannot be finished by 18:00 so we have to return again the next morning.

The work is completed the following day. The bike at least starts OK. Once again – the mind boggles – I have to ask them if any limitations apply whilst riding with this ‘new’ engine. I know that normally it’s recommended to keep the RPM low for a while. But I find it incredible that nobody mentioned this to me until I asked about it. They would totally have let me proceed to ride the bike at full throttle — and then if it had been ruined, supposedly blamed me for it?

I’m told I need to keep the speed to 70Km/h maximum. (Would that be in second gear then, sir?) I ask whether there’s a limit on RPM but they fumble about until Horacio eventually says 5000RPM. (I wonder if he knows that with 5000RPM in 5th gear I would be doing 90Km/h.)

(Never mind. I’ve already done some research myself before asking Honda’s recommendations – for reasons that should be obvious by now. The general recommendation (with many variants between) seems to be to keep to max. 4000 RPM for 1000Km, then change the oil and increase to max. 5000 RPM for the next 2000Km and change oil again. However some folks recommend that today’s engines can be broken in using full power from the outset (see www.mototuneusa.com))

We take it out for a test ride of 70Km immediately. The engine stalls twice but I think I flooded it. I keep it under 4500RPM and check for exhaust smoke, and check the oil regularly. It seems to be ok. Back to Honda to settle the bill.

As you would expect by now, by the time we return to settle the payment, the big boss has crawled under a stone somewhere and left his minions, Horacio The Dim and Non Blond Bimbo at reception to do his bidding:

###INTERMISSION###
To give you a break from the seemingly-endless mundaneness of these going-on: as we’re sitting at Honda Atlantico work shop, something quite interesting happens: The Colombian army comes to pick up their bikes…

Colombian army picks up their bikes…

Horacio dishes out a bill to the tune of about 1.14-Million COP. This is about 300000COP higher than quoted by Andres!!! Now we have to sit with Horacio the Dim and the air head and go through item by item, checking up prices in the system. It turns out that the prices in the system are different than the prices quoted to us by Andres. Also the cylinder head cleaning was ‘included’ in the cylinder bore, so this has become 90000COP instead of the original 30000COP! The discussion goes to and fro. Dim cannot do anything without boss, so he has to make phone calls all the time to confirm. Finally we’re down to a price only 10000COP above the original price quoted.

But when it comes to the discount, all they offer is 0.99%! We waste more time discussing this, and Horacio’s excuse is that they CAN ONLY DISCOUNT CERTAIN ITEMS, NOT THE BILL AS A WHOLE, WHICH IS IN DIRECT CONTRADICTION TO WHAT ANDRES TOLD US IN THE BEGINNING! ….Did I say anything about doing business in South America??

Finally, we bargain down to 800000.00COP, which is 43000COP below the originally quoted price, and at least gives us about 5% worth of discount – however this is 5% discount only off the latest batch of work, and not the already paid 620000.00COP or more! Gee, thanks Andres – not!

Next and final item we have to whack out is of course the guarantee. As you might have guessed, there is no mention of the guarantees discussed with Andres (90 days parts and 60 days labour, valid at any branch in the country) anywhere.

The only guarantee is stated on the bottom of the bill, which says the labour is guaranteed for 30 days OR 3000Km. The guarantee which Andres the Boss promised us, is denied by Horacio the Dim. Eventually, Horacio tries to console us with the idea that the 30 days on paper are merely implied, but the guarantee is actually for 60 days. You have got to be kidding! We want what we were promised and we want it in black and white. So once again, we’ll have to return on another day, and of course they want us to leave the bike as security.

### NEWS FLASH ### As it happens, the day on which all the big repairs are finally completed, is Ebru’s birthday! This means that she can spend her special day basking in some light anticipation and a whole lot of stress, whilst sitting in the air conditioned waiting room at the Honda workshop.

Not quite what she was hoping for I think. I do manage to get away for a while to order a decorated cake for her at the big 24h bakery, but when I go to collect in the evening, they haven’t made it!! (Did I ever mention anything about doing business in South America???) I’m stuck with buying one of their standard off-the-shelf cakes, and the I get the lady there to quickly write Ebru’s name on top with some chocolate paste. Oh well. At least we have a cake. And that night we do manage to bring a few smiles to Ebru’s lips.

The next day we get the guarantees we were promised, in writing, on an business letter from Andres himself, and we pay our bill. Finally!

We decide to do a test ride to Cartagena and back immediately. First we take the bike to a nearby wash to remove any grease and oil from the surfaces, so I can make clear observations during the run.

As we ride the last 100m coming back to Garrett’s place I open up the throttle and in an instant, a terrible grinding noise comes from the engine below as the clutch seems to lose grip. OH SHIT! I stop and pull away gently, which works fine, but when I open the throttle hard again, it seems to disengage again and a terrible sound emits. Something’s really fucked now!!

Gonna be another happy trip to Honda tomorrow….

Back at Honda the following day, the terrible noise turns out to be something else: the front sprocket has finally reached the end of its useful life. It’s teeth must have been worn so thin that the final throttle-boost last night was enough to flatten them entirely. I feel almost a little proud to have worn a sprocket to this extent. I have a spare so we install it.

After this we do more testing and the bike seems to run OK. I imagine that it sounds different, which may well be my imagination, and may be normal or not. As for power, it seems to be less powerful than before, but I am running the engine in and cannot exceed 4500RPM, so it is hard to tell.

Within a short time I do find that the valve cover gasket is leaking oil. Off I go back to Honda and get them to fix it. What was the cause for the oil leak, I ask the mechanic? A piece of dirt in the seal. In goes a new gasket and this time some more careful work, and the problem is solved. The cylinder head gasket (the one we had to re-use from old) is leaking a little more than it used to, but nothing grave and also, there is nothing we can do about that.

We do some more test riding down past Cartagena. The country side is beautiful. I’m trying to run the bike past the first 1000Km so that I can get Honda Atlantico to do the required oil and filter change – a sort of proof that I did get it done.

Somewhere in between we manage to find the very important SOAT insurance, so that we can drive on legally and with peace of mind. More info on where we bought it you can read in this post. (PS: in case you were wondering, postings on bike forums confirm confirm first hand experiences of foreign bikers who had accidents in Colombia, and they say the SOAT here is worth every cent.)

We also buy a Colombia Road Map and Tourist Destinations Guide. These are available at many of the Peaje (Toll) offices on the highways, for 15000COP. This turns out to be probably our best buy in Colombia. It’s excellently laid out! It is packed with information about the various places you can visit and what awaits you there. Also there are plenty of detailed road maps for the various regions, showing brilliant break-downs of distances, altitude profiles and so on, and better still, many of these can be extracted for ease of use. Our advice is: GET ONE, and be sure to pass it on to another friendly road traveller when you leave the country!

Pretty soon we’re all set, we’ve done the required 1000Km oil change, and we’re ready to move on!

TRIP INFO BOX

We take the bike to Cartagena for the weekend. It’s 244Km return. I check oil regularly to maintain the level within the dipstick lines, but it’s clear oil is burning up even faster than before. The clutch is still slipping, which it shouldn’t be by now.

On Monday we return to the Honda shop to check that out, as well as to chase up on the spare parts.

Andres the manager is not there as expected, so we get on with the clutch check – it should be working fine now now, after a good run-in of about 250Km.

The mechanic opens it up, he points out the oil level is very low. He checks the clutch and diagnoses the clutch springs to be out of serviceable measure. They are 44mm long and the minimum length is 44.7mm – I ask him to show me and I see he is right. I can accept this diagnosis as I know the clutch is old and I’ve had these springs stretched in Bolivia. The problem is they don’t have replacement springs here in Barranquilla, so they suggest installing small 2mm metal washers underneath them to virtually extend them and increase the pressure in the clutch centre. It costs me 10000.00COP.

Barranquilla police showing each other affection ;)…

This does not solve the problem either, so he opens it up again. His new diagnosis is that the friction disks – the new disks I bought here and had them install 244Km ago – are no good because their surfaces have crystallized due to heat exposure…. because of riding with a lack of oil. The suggested solution of course is that I buy a new set of friction disks!!!

BULLSHIT! For a start, I asked the mechanic to check everything according to service manual last time and he said there was no problem, I even questioned specifically about the state of the springs. The old friction disks I had had been exposed to low oil levels several times – the most notable being our stint between Presidente Figuereido and Boa Vista, where I ran for some time below the minimum oil level indicator; and those disks lasted about 30000Km. There’s no way these new ones are damaged due to that. And secondly, before our ride to Cartagena, the mechanic, just having changed the oil on the machine, recommended (in writing) I check the oil level every 500Km. I rode 244Km, checking the oil level every 100Km or less, seeing that there was sufficient oil. I even took photographs! The last time I added 200ml oil at 122Km in Cartagena before my return, seeing the level was low, but still within the dipstick lines. If I had followed his advice to the letter it would have resulted supposedly in a greater disaster!

(This is the problem with not being allowed to be present when and where the mechanic is working on your bike. Of course they’ll tell you what you want to hear, but you cannot see whether they’ve taken any measurements at all nor checked the service manual or anything. You just have to take their word.)

Horacio, the workshop manager, is a greasy character and does everything possible to avoid talking to me. Eventually I have to lose my temper with him so that he will stand still and give me five minutes of his time. I tell him I don’t accept the answers they have given me for the reasons above, and the disks more likely were faulty. They have a responsibility to replace them under warranty. As luck has it, the manager Andres walks in at this time. After Horacio checks with him, he confirms that they will get the disks replaced for me from the factory – but of course there is a delivery time. This leaves us with more spares problems.

Andres seems to be the man we have to talk to if want to get anything moving along around here. We find that, this week Andres is a bit difficult to pin down, but by mid-week we manage to grab him for an hour and talk about our case. We highlight some of the problems we’ve had (1. Poor communications from their side; 2. Spares availability and reliability; 3. Mechanic’s quality of work) and, understanding that our case is unusual for them, we would like his help to ensure we get what we need as soon as possible.

He promises us he will get in touch with his contacts to try and find us the parts and use emergency dispatch to get them delivered.

This leaves us with not much more to do than wait. But of course, having a bit of experience with the “Latino Way”, we make sure we chase up on a daily basis to ensure our faces and our requests are not forgotten. This turns out to be problematic in itself because the store manager is hardly ever there when he says he will be, and we do a lot of waiting and running around for nothing. – But at least this keeps Ebru ‘occupied’ in some way.

The waiting is agonizing, but we try to pass the time as best we can, finding some forms of enjoyment along the way. And what better form of enjoyment can there be than food and drink? We cook meals with Garret’s and Brenda, go out to the local corner tiendas for cold beers at night, and have a couple of good BBQs. Since we have the time and facilities on our hands, we make a big batch of the all-important travellers chilli sauce.

Garrett shedding a tear over the hot stuff…

Finally Andres confirms he has tracked us down all the parts we need they should all be at his branch in Barranquilla in a few days as they are on emergency dispatch! GREAT NEWS!!! Thanks Andres!