Well I am still in Medellin after about 5 days due to numerous hold-ups (of the bike breaking kind not the robbery kind) I left Cartagena for a long old ride to Medellin after deciding I wasn't going to visit the lost city. Quite frankly I thought either way the trip would be a let down. Either the city was going to live up to its name and still be lost, so call me stupid but how were we ever going to find it? And if we were unable to find it well what would I be doing for 5 days!... Or the exact opposite would happen and we would find the place; clearly the more likely of the two but come on, if someone sells me a tour to a LOST city, I really cant help but feel slightly cheated when we end up finding it just round the corner. The guide then says 'that will be $200, thank you very much' Pah! So in the end I thought I would ride the long road inland to Medellin. The ride was around 400 miles in lots and lots more rain, yey. I left early to do it in one hard slog so I didn't have to ride at night. So there I was riding down a road in this most dangerous of Countries, yes this terrible narco state riddled with terrorists and heavily armed paramilitary when I get approached by a man with a large stick in one hand, and in his other hand not a lethal weapon but a small brown puppy. He then proceeds to try and make me take the puppy with me, I was temped as I could have trained it up as a bike riding guard dog to eat any more muggers that take me on, but due to the fact the puppy was about 20 cm long I thought by the time it grows teeth I will have finished the trip.
It was at this point I decided that Colombia really doesn't deserve its reputation, and quite frankly you are more likely to get injured by being poked in the eye by one the many Colombian plastic boobs the female population seems to support than someone chasing me with a large assault rifle. This idea was merely compounded by the fact the local hustlers best move was to thrust a small brown dog in my face.
So there I was, a usual day of riding in rain, negociating land slides and generally having a rather numb back-side from all the sitting down. At one stage I reached a large area where the road had collapsed. Normally there would be enough room for my bike to get through, but the nice lorry drivers had decided they would try their best to block the road for me to. After pulling out my best Spanish and trying to impress them I asked one to move his truck just slightly to the right so I could get through, as he got into his truck I thought nice one, that was until he moved it just to the left just to make sure I really couldn't get through. What a nice man. Maybe I need to brush up on my Spanish some more!Finally I had to get the army to tell the lorry man to move his truck. I used the age old trick of complementing his gun and his country. This did the trick. 1 minute and half a mile lorry s had moved and I was back on my way.
Finally in the dark I arrived on the outskirts of Medellin. Former Home to the US governments favorite class act bad boy Pablo Escobar. Now the deal in Colombia is this, anyone with a bike who lives in the city must wear a very trendy glowing jacket with their number plate on it. I am told this is to stop hit men from going about their business of assassinating whoever looks at them funny. The idea is that although they still get the chance to shoot the target, now they cant ride off without the whole city knowing if they have a personalized number plate or not. Clearly they haven't heard of fake plates here. So I arrive in the city, in the dark without a fetching glowing jacket , only to be stopped by a military block. Before I could blather some crap in my best English accent or take my helmet off so he could see my bleachy white face he thrusts me against the bike and proceeds to search me for a gun. The biggest insult was that the little rasp who was scrabbling around my crown jewels for an RPG was about 16 years old! Felt up by a minor, how humiliating! Anyhow, lucky for me some man on a V-Storm bike shows up. This type of bike is rare in this part of the world as most bikes are no more than 200cc. Basically he first helps to calm down the trigger happy minor who is now rather agitated by the fact I have no driving licence (money no kill stole it) and persuades him to let me go, and then,what a legend, the man offers to lead me all the way to the hostel.
The ride to the hostel was intense as the man seemed to enjoy riding about 70mph between cars. I decided that if I survived the trip there I may have actually enjoyed the ride. Once we were there I thanked him and off he went.
During the past few days, as I mentioned earlier I have been here in Medellin. This is because after arriving at the hostel I discovered that part of the luggage rack holding on my panniers has broken in two. This was a problem as it was aluminium. Not easy to weld at all. It took me 4 days to get the part fixed, and I might add how really really unhelpful the Kawasaki dealer was. Once again a local came to my rescue, and again a fellow biker, the owner of 1 of only 3 Ducati bikes in a city of 3 million (told you big bikes are rare!) This guy is a legend, as is his father, so thank you Diego and family for all your help. Basically he found a welder for me, sorting out the job and made sure I didn't get totally ripped off. All for nothing. To add to this I also went to a great bike shop called Moto Angel. These guys not only helped me to fix some bits on my bike, but also gave me a free hat! How cool. So many thanks to Moto Angel as well! In conclusion all I can say about Colombia so far is that all the normal people here are so friendly it is incredible. And it is so nice to be somewhere where people want to help you for nothing in return! Really quite rare.
Currently I am holding up for another two days before riding south through the coffee district and the start of the Andes. I now have company, a great Irishman called Kev. Even though he rides a ponsey BWM GS1200, I have decided to forgive him. So we shall hopefully be riding some amazing roads in Bolivia and Peru together.
The only other things of importance to note is that yesterday I managed to get a photo of a horse with a side-stand. Either a very lazy horse or a fashion accessory I think. Made me laugh anyhow. Oh and also I keep forgeting to clear up the mystery of my friend who went missing back in Mexico, and I keep getting numerous people asking if he is still alive rather than being roasted slowly on a spit at the local tacho stand. The story is this: Basically after I lost him in Los Mochos I didnt hear from him for 3 days. Then I got an e-mail. It turned out his bike blew up on the road out of town. He was forced to sell it and then returned to the UK a week later. Currently he is back in Central America accepting that the bus may be a better choice for him! Hi Tim. Anyway, thats the story, and he is fine.
Lastly, I hope all who are still following my progress like the new website. I thought it time to pull my finger out and sort one out. Many hours of swearing I can assure you. Also and most importantly, I want to say a huge thank you to the massively generous donations I have received from not only friends but also from strangers and new friends I have met along the way. I will be supplying mystery gifts to all that I can, Jethro you shall be getting a small pickled Llamas fetus, you lucky boy! Seriously though, thank you all very much and I hope my rambling and moaning is at least giving you 5 mins of entertainment in your fun jobs, and I can assure any donations are seriously helping to get me to the tip of this continent. Sods law always prevails. Whenever I am totally broke something always breaks on the bike!
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