We head out early. Our hotel this time doesn’t include a breakfast so we are on the road by 7:30. About an hour along the road, in the town of Valledupar, we stop at a large department store and I run in looking for camp stove gas. None to be found. A little further through town we pass a large mall with 2 department stores, so we stop and I try those 2 as well, also without luck. Camp cooking isn’t looking good. Good thing I have peanuts. We did find a good coffee shop in the mall though, so the stop became worthwhile.

Heading back out, we end up driving into the La Guajira province of Colombia. Although we only skirt it, it is one of the poorest areas of Colombia, and we pass some mud hut homes. Most of this region is also a desert, which we don’t quite go in to. Also, due to the shape of South America, although this province borders Venezuela, and is quite a distance from Panama, it is actually the furthest north point in South America.

We have been very lucky with the roads so far. Most of the roads we have taken have been really good quality pavement, vista filled and lots of twistys. Today, although scenic, the road itself was filled with giant pot holes. I guess the poor province doesn’t get as much spending.

The trees amazed me today though. Many of them look like the trees you see in clipart. Massive trunk with a canopy that covers a huge area below. A fair amount of the landscape looked like California orchards but on steroids.

We continue through it, most of the day being in the high 30’s for temperature, so we stop a few times for a cold drink. Being Christmas Eve, and not really knowing the traditions of the area, we stop for dinner early at about 3pm. Have the cutest 10 year old girl serve us, while her mother watches on. Chicken and fries, Christmas Eve dinner.

We head on to the town of Palomino and settle in to a waterfront campground we found on the Ioverlander app. Camping Masag Palomino is a quant campground but an amazing beach. With our tents set up just feet from the crashing waves, this will certainly help us a little from the feeling of missing family at Christmas.

I take a quick dip in the ocean, being cautious of the current. I also chuckle at Chris with his tent set up directly below a cocoanut tree. Part of me wants to warn him, but the other part that grew up watching Gilligan’s Island can’t resist the small chance one of them falls from the tree, so I keep my mouth shut. It’s the little things in life that we find rewarding.

We sit around for a few hours, chatting and listening to the sounds of the ocean. An amazing, peaceful experience and the camping rate is $5 per person. As Chris falls asleep in his chair, perched in the sand, I retreat to my tent and to this blog. I should wake him, but I leave that for the cocoanuts.

We left Cucuta early, trying to avoid the craziness of the streets. We have very little information on the road to Ocana and aren’t sure if it will be paved or not. In addition, we have been told to stay on the road and go to town directly, as it is apparently one of the dangerous spots with paramilitary presence. It turns out to be yet another fantastic road, for the most part well paved, and with all the twists and turns a motorcycle rider craves.

The road signs today also added to the amusement. For some reason, Aardvark crossing signs never seem to get old, even when you see 40 of them in a day. We also saw monkey crossing signs, fox crossing signs, and there must be a giant Colombian rat, because it looks huge on the waring sign. I never did get to see any Aardvarks, foxes or monkeys, but I just about ran over a.suicidal iguana. Of course this happens nowhere near the iguana crossing signs.

We arrive in Ocana and it is only noon. The road was much faster than we thought, so instead of stopping, we decide to get ahead of ourselves a bit and continue on for another 200km, eventually arriving in Bosconia, a very typical Colombian small town. We find a hotel, and the room works out to $30 a night. The hotel is a little interesting. It looks new in areas, very old in others and under construction in even more areas. My guess is that it is slowly building itself up but has actually been in operation for years.

We head down the main road about 2 blocks and find ourselves a Colombian eatery. We both have grilled Chicken breast with our daily helping of fries. Dinner cost $14 total, and was quite decent.

Overall a relatively uneventful day. Great riding and beautiful scenery, but with all the wonderful stuff we have seen over the past couple of weeks, today was anticlimactic in comparison.

Today was an eye opening experience. After breakfast, we hopped into a cab and went to the Simon Bolivar International Bridge, which is the border crossing between Colombia and Venezuela. Lining the streets for about a mile before the border, thousands upon thousands of migrants were making their way into Colombia and beyond.

Now for those of you who are unaware of the situation, Venezuela is in economic crisis, and almost 5 million people (20 %) have fled. The US government loves to blame the socialist regime of the country, and a small amount of the blame can be attributed to it in the later years, the beginning of the downturn was caused by US embargoes and tariffs. The US government does anything it can to thwart any socialist regimes, as it stands in the way of US owned corporations taking control of another countries resources. In Venezuela’s case, as the holder of the largest reserves in the world, oil. Since the mid 1990’s, Venezuela has faced these problems, and since the death of the first president, his successor has now turned into a dictator. Combined with value of oil dropping, there is virtually no economy left in Venezuela. We have been told that the people even try to use the US dollar or Colombian peso rather than their own “Bolivar”. Even most things we take for granted people have to cross the border and bring back (we watched as pallets of Pepsi got loaded by hand cart across the border).

To Colombia’s credit, the support the government and the people are giving to the displaced is wonderful. Every single person we speak to never says anything negative and merely refers to it as a situation all must deal with. The government, although restricting vehicle traffic, has the bridge wide open with only a small amount of security on it but no checkpoint for passports. The Colombian government allows for free passage of people and supplies both in and out of the country. No bitching, no complaining, just helping fellow humans. Keep in mind, the average Colombian has a lot less to share than an average Canadian does, but still shares willingly. Remember that the next time someone you know uses the phrase “take care of our own”.

Enough of my political rant, and back to the actual border. We walk across the border, mingling with many people who are bringing goods across, once in Venezuela, we reverse our path and walk back into Colombia surrounded by many migrants. We watch as some of the people take pictures with their phones under the welcome to Colombia sign. We see some people crying with joy, others crying while in arguments with family (I am sure the stress is immense). The people you see come from all walks of life. Some are the very poor, some are once wealthy but now very poor. A few have a small amount of money left and are using it to support their travels. The streets are filled with people sleeping, eating, breast feeding their child, and carting all that is left of their possessions. Sometimes only one suitcase, some take as much as they can.

This really was something to see, and the main reason why we came to Cucuta. Something I wish everyone could see so they wouldn’t feel so inclined to complain about the little things in their life.

After the border, we did the total opposite and went to a beautiful mall and sat having a coffee at a Juan Veldez Coffee Shop. The privilege of our travel life being realized. We meet a nice young guy from Venezuela, from a more affluent background, who is on his way to Bogota and then on to Virginia to “visit” family.

We end the evening on the streets near the hotel, even at 8pm on a Sunday, absolute chaos.

A day I am grateful for the opportunity to have experienced the way I did, and not the way most have to.

We prepare to leave Bucaramanga and the GPS sends us along a single lane, mostly paved road that goes steeply up a hillside. Such a grade that would never be allowed in Canada. With each switchback we need to slow to make the corner and the little bike struggles to pull up hill again afterwards. The road, just before reaching the main highway, suddenly has a rope across it as closed. Still on a steep incline, we struggle to turn the bikes around to head back downhill. The view though was totally incredible. The entire city was visible from our turnaround spot.

With the GPS continually wanting to send us back to the same road, I create my own route for a while until we are far enough that it stops liking that road. Now, on the main highway out, we wind our way up and up a mountain. Reaching 11,500 feet, we are now in the clouds with drizzle of rain. Turns out, even though Bucaramanga and Cucuta are both very warm cities, the path between them is a high Andean plateau, and we spent hours riding through the cloud and rain. From a riding perspective, although this ride could be great in good weather, with the conditions we had it was the worst motorcycle day of the trip.

We arrive, cold, into Cucuta (pronounced Koo-koo-taa) and head off to our centrally located hotel. Cucuta is absolutely crazy, with about 20 city blocks almost turned into walking only from all the people at the markets. Cucuta, being right on the Venezuelan border, not only had it’s own 750,000 people but also all the Venezuelan migrants and thousands more Venezuelan shoppers, who would need to come here to buy virtually anything. Venezuela doesn’t have basic necessities, so even the wealthy Venezuelan’s who aren’t yet at the point of leaving the country, still need to dash across the border for things.

We needed to drive right through blocks of this chaos to reach the hotel. Avoiding crowds of people, buses, taxis and other motorcycles. Totally wacky.

Once checked in to the hotel, we go outside and walk around the area for a few hours, taking in the feel of it all before calling it a night back at the hotel. Later on that night, I find my flights to the Amazon for the last part of the trip, and finally have that all booked,.

We have a relaxing day ahead of us in Bucaramanga. As a multi-day stop, unlike Medellin or Bogota, the day isn’t filled with things we should see as tourists.

After the hotel breakfast, Chris and I separate. Chris needs to deal with his prepaid phone card again and I have a few things I am looking for. I walk off to the “Mac Center”, looking for a cable for my ipad to connect to camera cards. (Surprise, my aftermarket one no longer seems to work since an Apple update, the bastards). I walk about a km to where the store is supposed to be. Nothing. Nada. Thanks Mr. Google Mapper. Off I go to the second one on the list. Bucaramanga seems like such a nice town that I just keep walking. About an hour later and maybe close to 5km I come to an awesome mall and find a Mac Center. Just my luck, almost every possible attachment except the one I need. In the same mall I find a Colombian Best Buy type of shop but they also dont have it. I do manage to pickup a couple of cheap micro USBs though. Next, I find an Exito department store. Still no cable, and also no stove gas for the camp stove (we will be camping soon for a night or so).

The mall has 6 floors. On the top floor, the food court is in a covered balcony overlooking the city. Maybe the world’s nicest food court. I have a coffee here and enjoy the view. Afterwards, I find a taxi for $3 and get a ride back to the hotel (exhausted from all the walking).

Back at the hotel, I hang out at the pool for a bit. I also try finding flights to the amazon for the end of the trip but have a few connectivity issues.

Chris and I meet back up. He has had success with his phone card. We walk to the motorcycle area of town and after a few shops end up meeting Juan, a nice guy about 35 years old who spent 10 years in Australia, first at school and then in construction. We get a run down on the current economic status of folks in Colombia (Ie: minimum wage is about $300cdn, an apartment rents for $250 etc etc). As we have heard many times now, Colombia is a great place to retire if you are from somewhere with a pension or have savings, but it is hard to make a living here.

We find ourselves across from the hotel for dinner. I have a pizza and Chris has a calzone. Really good food for an awesome price. The pizza was so large I had 3 slices boxed up, which I gave to a Venezuelan we crossed paths with on the way back to the hotel.

Back in the hotel, before calling it a night, we notice some company or office is having their Christmas party. About 70 or 80 people at tables around the pool. Announcements, cheers, lots of laughter but it seems strange for a Christmas party to be outdoors in 30 degree heat!

We awaken and go have our daily scrambled eggs and fruit, plus some other random thing, breakfast. Our host, Andre, was totally awesome with his service, offering choices of each thing. His small hotel was completely charming. As we packed up to leave, I quickly ran out to the square and droned it for some aerial footage. Done, we said goodbye to Villa de Leyva.

Heading towards Bucaramanga (B-manga on signs), what shows as 100kms away directly, turn in to 280km once the bends of the road are considered. We have already been pretty lucky with the fantastic motorcycle riding roads but today was just fantastic. Starting out in a beautiful farming community with rolling hills of panted crops, lined by fincas with moderate climate trees, we work our way into a warmer region, with bamboo and palm trees. Finally, we end in a more desert like zone featuring barren rock formations adorned with cactus. Twists, turns and switchbacks galore, making for a most entertaining ride.

On a sadder note, along the ride we say many people walking the highway, carrying suitcases, backpacks and more. Many were families. These are Venezuelan refugees, walking the road to Bogota (and perhaps beyond). It is a tough thing to witness while myself enjoying the privilege of travelling the world.

Arriving in B-manga, a city of half a million, we hit the rush hour traffic. People here seem to drive quite politely though, and we weave our way through to the city center and our hotel. Our hotel is also super friendly. As we drive by the front I call out to the door man and ask where the parking is. He bursts into a run and shows us where to go. He then helps us from the underground garage and carries Chris’ stuff to the lobby and after checkin, on to the room. His name is Jesus, and for Chris, thank god he was there because the bags are heavy! The hotel also offered us a welcome latte, which was excellent. We are in the Hotel Cuidad Bonito, centrally located and extremely nice for $50 a night.

We walk around town for a bit just seeing the scenes. After dark, we walk about a kilometre or so through the city to a decent bar and restaurant area. The city seems very safe and pleasant to walk through. After dinner we walk around a little more and then back to the hotel, Chris is tapped out a little from all of the walking, so I cruise around the area for another hour or so before heading off to bed.

We woke in Bogota, had breakfast and packed up the bikes. Chris had the receptionists in the lobby help him with his Colombian SIM card as it was messaging him about expiring.

We exited the parking garage with about half of Bogota to ride through, in all it’s insanity. Just after we pulled out and made a couple turns Chris indicates to me that he forgot his cable lock back at the hotel, so we circle a busy round about and head back, parking on the sidewalk so he can just run in.

On the way out of town I spot a motorcycle shop and stop quickly for a pair of gloves. They only had one pair that would fit me but they arent bad.

Back on the highway, after about 30 km of riding, I go through a toll booth and, not seeing Chris, wait for him at the other side. About 10 minutes goes by and no sign of him, which is virtually impossible in only 30 kms, so thinking he is either broken down or worse, I head back to look. I ride all the way back to a gas station we had stopped at together, then all the way back again to the toll booth, no Chris. Then I get a message that he lost me and was on a completely different highway than I was. The rule is to never leave the road your on without the other riders, but he thought I had and followed his GPS on a different route.

So I continue on my road and he takes his. Both with end in Villa De Leyva. I am on the fastest route, he is on the shortest. I cruise through another amazing, scenic area. Lot s of farming and very lush. The last 30km or so being beautiful country lanes. Arriving in Leyva, I ride to the Plaza Mayor, text Chris I am here, and shortly afterwards we reconnect. We find a small hotel, Villa del Angel, run by Andre and his family, and park the bikes there. An absolutely gorgeous place, the architecture is really something. After unpacking our things, we walk around the town for a while, surrounded by other tourists enjoying the quant village. Plaza Mayor in Villa is the largest plaza in Colombia, and was built in colonial times, along with the church facing it. During the revolution for independence it also played a roll as part of Simon Bolivar’s route to the battle of Boyaca (nearby) which was the turning point in defeating the royalist hold of Santa Fe (today – Bogota). The town maintains it’s architecture and style to this day.

If we had been behind at all, this would have been one of those stops we had planned on skipping. I am so glad we didn’t, as the place has a magical feel to it, although more of a place to take your wife to, not your friend.

The street dogs here are totally fun to watch too. The streets are packed with healthy, friendly dogs. All whom go about their day without a concern. If you took a dog from here and brought it home i don’t think you would be improving it’s life

We go out to dinner and pick a place with a patio facing Plaza Mayor. We have an acoustic guitar player, who had an awesome voice, playing while we ate. The entire feel of this town is quite something. As we pass the church, they have some ceremony going on where there was lots of pop like singing and a small group of people celebrating whatever moment it may have been (my understanding of churchy things not being good enough to know what it was). Then, when we pass the bus stop, all the people there are singing away with more churchy dressed people. It may not be my thing, but I sure enjoyed how happy the crowd was.

As the evening winds to a close, we head back to the hotel. If I ever return. To Colombia, this town will get more than a one night stop.

After our routine morning breakfast at the hotel and arranging for some laundry to be done, we hoped on the motorcycles to get the first service done. Hard to believe we are already at 1300 kms.

On the way to the bike shop a couple other people wave at Chris, warning him that one of his tie down straps is caught in his chain. We pull over and I remove the strap from his chain. Now, with a little oil on my hands, I dont want to grease up the inside of my gloves so I just strap them under the net and continue on the the bike shop. Stupid decision. By the time we reach the shop I am the owner of only one glove.

We book the bikes in for servicing. Chris has forgotten his warranty manual and bike documents back in the hotel, but after a little while we arrange for the service to still be done and the paperwork to be presented when we come back for the bikes. In latin America they have their systems in place, and they dont like to shift away from them.

Leaving the bike shop to head back to the hotel, I split from Chris. Avoiding straining his knees, he hops in a taxi and I decide to hoof it back and see if by any chance I can find my glove. We had been quite some time in the end at the motorcycle shop so I didn’t hold out hope, but gave it a try anyways. The walk back was more than interesting. On the ride there, at 8:30 am, although busy street traffic, the sidewalks had been empty. Now, on my return, all sorts of things happening. Part of the walk was through one of those areas a tourist just shouldn’t walk, but I politely turned down the hookers, who all jumped at the opportunity to say hello to the gringo walking by. I passed a market for the extreme poor, selling anything they could have found with it all laid out on the sidewalk. I did quickly glance to see if my glove was there, but no luck.

Making it back to the hotel and meeting back up with Chris, and we take a taxi over to Monserrate, a mountain with a cable car and funicular to a church and view point overlooking the entire city. With a large lineup, we go for coffee first, then return an hour later and catch the funicular to the top. Incredible view, and while walking around the park at the top, statues are all displaying Jesus’ last days and the story of the crucifixion.

We ride back down and then cab it back to our hotel. When I pay for the cab, I give the driver a 10,000 peso note (about 3.85), and he hands it back to me saying he wont take it because it has a small rip in it. Not having anything else, I give him a 20,000 note and he gives me a 10,000 one back in change. Now, back in the hotel, we notice that both 10,000 notes have the same serial number. The bastard cabbie got me! Twice! He must have switched the 10,000 I gave him for another one and handed it back. Then gave me a second falso in the change. It makes for a decent $8 souvenir though!

We go back to the bike shop, this time with all the papers and pick up the bikes. All ready to go, and the service cost $18.76. Had excellent service there and will leave a google review! We bring the bikes back to the hotel, again zipping through much of the town you probably shouldn’t visit (I left my visor down)., parking in the underground lot of the hotel. We then go catch a cab out to “Zona T”, the high end area of Bogota. This cab ride was totally entertaining. About an hour long due to traffic, we happened to catch the craziest cab ever. The driver, while playing electronica music that surprising made for the perfect soundtrack to the movement, had 4 cell phones mounted. On with a gps, another playing a tv show, one for the music and one so he could facebook when stuck in traffic. He also had a siren and flashing lights, as well as an air horn. Depending in his mood, he used them all multiple times. Probably about 25 years old, with a decent, comfortable car, he made his job fun to do.

We knew we had reached Zona T by the huge Apple store. Most apple stores in Colombia sell manzanas not ipads, so we got out of the cab near there. We cruised around for a while, then stopped for dinner at a burger place that made all kinds of crazy burgers. I had some chipotle corn and pepper stuffed burger and Chris’ was equally as bizarre. After dinner we cruised the area a little more before heading back to the hotel., our return taxi taking only 10 minutes.

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We awoke quite early in Salento, and packed up to head towards Bogota. Salento was such a quant little town, and in such a lush and beautiful region. The entire coffee region is quite spectacular, and for those Jeep lovers out there, the road is just filled with them, from virtually every auto maker.

Our first few miles was country road, then back to the freeway for another 20 km or so. Once we reached Armenia we turned off the Panamericana and headed towards Bogota. The drive is 250km, yet as the crow flies, Bogota was only 90 miles away. That should tell you how windy the road is. We twist up one side of a mountain, then back down the other. Twice we reached 10,000 feet only to drop back down around 5,000. Each one of the tight switchback corners is manned by a flagger, stopping traffic going one direction when a vehicle going the other is too big and requires both lanes. I think the guys that do this only work for tips from the grateful truckers.

Most of the way along this road, we pass tunnels that aren’t quite open yet and some almost completed bridges. Two of them appeared to be at least a kilometre long. The new road, once opened, looks to be a straight shot and probably will cut the distance in half. Billions of dollars in new infrastructure being spent. With all the new tunnels around Colombia, the government must have bought a tunnel machine and now the are going nuts with it.

After the twists of the mountains, where it got quite chilly, we came to a long, plains type area where the temperature spiked. Totally different ecology to the area, the third distinct zone of the day. Finally, back up in to the clouds and dampness, we cross one more mountain pass before reaching Bogota, the capital of Colombia.

Our hotel is clear on the other side of the city, in the historical district, and we make our way through absolute chaos of traffic hell. 17 kilometres through the city takes a little under 2 hours, which would be worse in a car, at least bikes are allowed to lane split, although with tight lanes the space isn’t often there between them.

We reach our hotel only to find that the parking is in the back, on a different street. We are given a little map to follow that shows to reach the garage you go 4 blocks north, 5 blocks east, 2 blocks south etc etc., on a series of one way streets until you get there. It works out fine though, and we park and check in.

Walking around Bogota, it is interesting to see all the work being done here. A block from the hotel, they are busy turning a street into a pedestrian boulevard, with concrete blocks being placed over about a kilometre of it. They are almost complete, and vendors have tents set up all along it. It will be quite decent when done.

We found a barbeque place and had a bit of a late dinner. Very reasonable pricing for what was just way too much meat! We walked the market for a an hour or so after dinner before returning to the hotel for the evening.

We left Cali early, and being Sunday, the otherwise crazy and hectic streets were virtually empty. our hotel receptionist, Giovanni came out to see us off and to wish is well. A very nice young guy. On the way out we passes a bunch of motorcycle shops and one of the larger ones was already open at 9am on a Sunday. We stopped in and bought oil (these little bikes use a little bit) and some chain lube. A quite old gentleman in a ratty looking uniform controls the parking in front of the shop and then wipes down your lights and mirrors for you. All for tips and I suppose this is how he makes a living. He also supervised our oil adding, holding the container and putting the cap back ob for us. We paid him decently for his excellent assistance and went on our way.

We rode for a couple of hours on the main Colombia highway. A 4 lane beauty that would give any road in Canada a run for quality. Nothing third world about it. We turned off the main road and cruised along a country lane about 15 minutes until we reach the Parque del Cafe. A giant amusement type park all based on coffee. We catch the cable cars and train through the park, surrounded by coffee plants of a few varieties. unfortunately we missed the one time per day that you can sit in on a complete talk and tour but it was still all a ton of fun. In one area park they had go carts for the kids, horse back rides and all sorts of theme park fun. They also had very good coffee.

We left the coffee park and rode on to the quant town of Salento. Very popular with tourists, the town is filled with little hotels and hostels, with active town square. We find a nice little hotel and after settling in, head to the square for dinner.