We awoke and went to breakfast in the town square. We found a nice little coffee shop that had cheap, basic breakfasts. Scrambled eggs with ham, some odd cheese and an arepa. Wasn’t too bad. Afterwards, we took a mini Chiva (Tuk-Tuk) for a tour of Guatapé (pronounced Gwa-ta-pay). Our driver tried his best with us to make sure we understood his spanish descriptions of everything. It seems that Guatape is famous for it’s colourful buildings and the socallo’s that adorn them. They are like square plaques, but made of concrete, running along the bottom 2 feet of the building. Just during our tour alone, we saw 3 people touch up painting them. Each is unique, much like graffiti, some show a dog, others show horses, some are more advanced and show bread making (on the bakery). Nice little zip around the town.

We left Guatape about 11 and headed back towards Medellin. By about 12:30 we were lane splitting down the main highway in Medellin surrounded by massive, crazy traffic. About an hour of this and it opened up into the country road. Winding up and down mountain after mountain (this is the Andes) with beautiful vistas every time a clear view came up. After an hour or so of this, we hit a traffic jam. Road work! All the motorcycles filter to the front of the line and wait. The minute the alto turns to Siga, all the bikes bolt off like horses out of the gate. Only to be stopped a few kilometres down the road at another one. Sign turns to siga and we are off. Stopped again. This happens for a couple of hours, where we manage to only go about 40 kilometres. Finally, the last 50 km into Manizales goes quickly, and we arrive just as the sun is setting. We drive around the downtown core in crazy traffic, but don’t see anywhere to stay, so we end up just a little ways back near the entrance to town at the Europa Boutique Hotel. Quite nice and the bikes are parked in the lobby.

We cross the road from the hotel to go to dinner. 2 restaurants are right next to each other but one is holding a private party so we go into the other one. Entering, the lady points for us to sit in the corner, which we do and await menus. Quite a time passes and we get nothing, then a man comes over and tells us they need to move the table over a bit, out of the corner. We stand up for them to do this and they move the table over and join it with a couple other tables for a larger group. We say we aren’t with anyone and we need the table separate. Then we are basically told that they don’t have room for us anymore because they have a bigger party. Weird things happen in Latin America, but on we go. We end up downtown at a chicken roaster place. Cheap place and the service was good and so was the food, so it all worked out in the end. We cruise around town for a bit before heading back to the hotel and calling it a noche.

Woke up quite early, about 6 am (well, to be honest, woke up at midnight, 2am 4 am and then out of bed at 6am). Hardest bed ever. My friend Geico got tired of me talking to him (probably only understands Spanish) and had vanished. Getting out of bed, I went to the lobby and got a bottle of water (didn’t want to risk brushing teeth etc with the water from the tap). We pack up and prepare to hit the road and by 8am we are on our way. As we ride down the road, my bike starts sputtering. I think to myself that the choke must still be on, but reaching down it seems to be in the right position. A few kilometres in we stop and I check the bike. I try to drain the float of the carburetor to get any water out but no luck turning the screw (toolkit that came with the bike isn’t the best). So we continue down the road, with me sputtering along. Somehow, this seems like karma (not unlike the comment about the baby in the lounge), payback for saying the white bike was faster in yesterday’s blog. We stop for gas, thinking that topping it up might help, but it does nothing. The gas stop was a little nerve wracking, as we are probably in the poorest region of Colombia and very large, shirtless black men are walking past us with machetes. In reality, once you smile and say hello, they were totally accepting of the chubby ginger and his aged friend. Although I did insure that my Garmin locator device was on, in case my body was needed for the insurance payout.

We finally sputter in to San Cipriano and as a tourist helper comes out, I ask him for a taller de moto (mechanic). He makes me follow him down to the launching point of the San Cipriano railway and tells me to wait 5 minutes. A couple minutes later he signals me over and has me park under the shade of a makeshift carport. Within moments, 4 guys are surrounding the bike, working on it, testing it and figuring out the problem. We still aren’t 100% certain what they did to fix it, but it was either water in the carb or the carb was loose. 20 minutes later we are running fine again. I asked them how much and they asked for $7.50. I gave them double. We also paid the older fellow who had the carport to let us leave the bikes there for an hour or so while we caught the famous San Cipriano railway (YouTube it!)

We walked over to the railway and purchased our tickets. Cost was about $2 each way. The railway is small carts on rail wheels, powered by a small motorcycle dangling off the back with the rear will friction powering the ride. The reason this all happened was that the town used to be connected only by rail, but when the train was decommissioned, the already poor town became virtually nothing. Then some dude came up with this method of transport and started bringing tourists for rides to the town and the beautiful swimming river nearby. Once it started, the whole thing has taken off into a tourist thing. About 20 of the carts exist to scoot you on the 20 minute ride each way. With no jobs or economy in the area, most people earn a living some way or another from the railway. One of the coolest experiences I have ever done, and I am so glad not to have missed it as we did the last time in the area.

Once we had finished the rail, we headed back up the road, stopping at the hotel and checking out while also packing the rest of our stuff. On our way to Cali, we stopped for lunch (we never had a breakfast included this time). We also tried to find a Finca (guest house) that had been recommended to us, but it looked like it may have been closed. We continued on to Cali, winding down out of the clouds and drizzle of the surrounding mountains and found ourselves a hotel. After Medellin started getting back on track and the crazy violence died down, Cali for a few years took over as Colombia’s most dangerous city. In recent years it has seen massive improvements, and we are in a pretty decent area of town. Right across the road from Parque Del Gatos, which is filled with sculptures by Cali’s most famous artist (and the only one I know the name of), Hernandez Tejada.

We had a nice coffee at a genuine Colombian cafe. Damn was that good. A really potent and small late, and only $1.50. Some of the pricing in this country is spectacular. Then we found a small grocery store and bought some road snacks. I looked at the mayonnaise and chicken flavoured potato chips and decided that I just couldn’t do it. Maybe later in the trip.

Back at the hotel, we mention that our room doesn’t have the beds made up yet or any towels. Our nice reception guy, Giovanni, had us wait in the lobby while he took care of it. At first, he was going to switch our rooms, but then he decided to have ours prepared. Then he became a little more indecisive and went to go talk to the maid. About 20 minutes later he told us our room was all ready. Stuff like this seems to happen a fair bit in Colombia, or even in all of Latin America. You just have to roll with it.

Dinner was at El Gringo, an American based restaurant. I went for the New York steak with puree potatoes drizzled in cheese, chris had some crazy loaded hotdog and fries. total bill $35 cdn. Spent the rest of the night cruising the small area of Cali we are in.

If you are reading this, your comments are appreciated.

Leaving Manizales, we twisted through the mountain pass on a road that could have been built for motorcycles. Lots of traffic, but the little bikes passed and weaved well and we made good time through the city of Peirerra. We stopped in a town just past there and had a cold drink. They have a carbon water drink here called H2oh. I have struggled to get order it a couple of times, having to point to it to get the message across. Then it came to me. I was using English, even for letter pronunciations. This time “hachy dos oh” and she knew what I wanted. Chris just
“mismo”ed and got the same.

We ended the riding portion of our day at Los Tubos hotel. Basically, the hotel is built next to a river and plumbs water from the river into their 4 pools. When we arrive, a large group of 18-25 year olds, probably from a nearby town, celebrating a birthday party. We are now in an area that is less Spanish or Indigenous descendants, and is primarily black. I got a lot of double takes from them (all friendly, just surprised). Not a super fancy place, but a nice affordable option for the Colombian working class. It was quite entertaining to sit near thepool, have a beer and watch them all group dancing away.

We also worked a little on the bikes. Chris added his phone mount so he could see where he was going. With all the motorcycles on the road, it is hard for me to tell which one is behind me and him keeping up with me is virtually impossible in this traffic. (I also have the white bike, which is a faster colour). I worked on double checking all of my wiring, which turned out to be fine and just the little USB adapter seems to be at fault for some charging issues.

We went off to dinner at a road side eatery (thousands of these in Colombia) and had chicken with rice, fries and salad. Chris also had the soup. Total meal cost $16 for the both of us. Retiring back to the hotel for the night, I type the blog and relax, listening to the peaceful, crashing sound of the rushing river, broken occasionally truck brakes on the road. A little gecko is sharing my room. Being totally uncreative, I named him Geico.

Woke up and had my free breakfast once again, before heading over to the Rosita and saying goodbye to Doug and Ole. Just before checking out, I hit the roof top pool for one more chill down, then I packed my bags and Ubered out to the airport.

I had tried earlier to do the web check in, but for some reason Copa air wouldn’t let me do it, so at the airport I had to line up for the regular check in. The line moved well, until 2 groups before me, some dude is trying to bring a bin full of live crabs in his luggage. Lots of arguing back and forth, and then 15 minutes later he storms off with his little crab buddies and leaves his wife and kids at the counter to hold his spot while he’s gone. Another 10 minutes goes by and he returns with his live crabs now shrink wrapped. (Not sure how alive they are now). Somehow, this seems to be acceptable though, and after a large fee, the crabs get to fly. His time at the counter was well over 30 minutes. Next people in front of me maybe 30 seconds. I’m done in a minute too.

I cleared security in a breeze too and went off the find the lounge. Another awesome stop with free sandwiches, peanuts, drinks and football on the TV. I stayed upstairs by the bar, but the lower level was a nice, quiet area with couches and showers. Could easily nap there (and a few people were).

Now for my big mistake. A couple comes in to the lounge with their baby. Baby starts crying away. I text Carolyn, and in my new found “status” I comment on “why would they bring a baby into the VIP lounge”. She warns me that that crying baby could be on my plane. A few minutes later the lady says to her husband how nice and quiet it was downstairs, so they haul crying baby down to the nice. Quiet are where people are already sleeping… well, not anymore.

Boarding the plane, I settle in to my business class luxury. A few moments later, a flight attendant asks me to switch seats and I oblige, thinking it must be for good reason she asked. Turns out, it was a training flight and the 2 extra attendants want to sit together. Strike one for Andy.

The couple with the baby settle in to their seats across the aisle. Strike 2. Finally, the young dude who has the seat next to me approaches. Soaked in so much cologne that he smells like the perfume section of the Bay department store, I am gasping for air. Strike 3. Shouldn’t have brought up the baby.

I have a quick layover in Panama City. In 5 short years the airport has expanded from a run down, wreck of a place to a spectacular, giant mall like complex. Long walk to my connecting flight and on to Medellin.

This time, because I kept to myself and didn’t comment on anything, my flight was fantastic. Decent food, no baby, and the seat next to me was empty. I arrive in Medellin at 11pm and make my way through about an hour of customs. Chris lands about 40 minutes behind me, and goes through customs a little faster. We finally connect at the exits at a little after midnight. As Chris approached, his luggage makes an alarm chirp. He tells me that his motorcycle cable lock has somehow armed itself and is going off constantly. But he also zip tied his luggage for security and, since knives aren’t allowed on planes, didn’t have anything to cut it with. Not having much of a choice, we packed our bags in the Uber and laughed the entire 30 minute drive in to the city about the siren/alarm.

Arriving at our hotel, we unload and go to check in. Chris leaves his back outside and borrows scissors from the front desk, unpacks the alarm and disables it. At about this moment, he realizes that he has left his iPhone in the Uber, which has pulled away.

We finish checking in, and contact Uber hoping that his phone can be returned, but since you cant contact the driver directly, we are at their mercy.

Now, about 2 am, we settle in and try to sleep. Chris though, distraught about his phone, is kinda like what you would expect a young teenager to be without their phone.

We get up and pack our bikes, planning to leave Medellin sometime after the morning rush hour for our short 2 hour ride to Guatapé. Traffic dies down nicely about 10, and off we go. We run in to lots of areas where roads are closed for construction, so navigating out of the city is a little tricky. Next, our GPS takes us right to the new 20 km long or so tunnel, which motorcycles aren’t allowed in, so we have to figure our way around that. All of this is par for the course inn Latin America, and adds to the adventure.

It takes me only a few minutes to get used to the South American way of motorcycle riding again. Chris, being originally from South Africa, and overall just a little bit crazy, seems to have no problem fitting in from the get go. We also used our heads though, and didn’t do the super crazy pass on an uphill, double yellow blind corner with a bus heading at you kinda stuff that we watched a few off the locals do.

A few miles from Guatapé, we stop at El Roca de Guatapé. A giant rock with over 800 steps built into a crack of it, to a viewpoint overlooking a beautiful, lake filled region. We don’t climb the rock, using the excuse we didn’t want to leave our bikes unattended for that long, but the real reason is that 812 steep steps just want going to happen. Andy at 20 wouldn’t do it, so why would he now.

At the base of the rock is still amazing views. Lots of tourist shops and restaurants. We grab a lunch (pretty awesome one for $5 ish) and take some pictures. Then we find out way into Guatapé.

We arrive at about 3, and follow our booking.com instructions by visiting a restaurant and asking for Marta. Marta arrives a few minutes later and then gets us to ride over to the apartment and meet her there. We are on the 3rd floor, in a beautiful building, right on the main square (parque principal). All of this for $32 a night.

After settling in, we cruise the town for a few hours sightseeing. This area is as beautiful as anywhere in the world. All the people we run in to are also genuinely friendly and happy to see you. Chris finds a cellular shop and buys a Colombian SIM card. Since losing his phone, he is now using my old phone (I brought an extra one in case I got robbed – decoy phone). He tries to use it, but keeps getting a spanish message and the call fails. We realize that he didn’t buy any long distance minutes, so we go back to the shop and buy more. Chris is now set up with a phone again.

I notice all these spots throughout the town with dog food and water bowls set up as feeding stations. They have little donation boxes on top of them too, so that you can donate to feed the street dogs. I watch the dogs all running around happy, stopping at the various bowls and snacking for a moment and then moving on. None of them seemed to eat too much, just a bite or two. You can tell a lot about a culture and it’s people by how they treat their dogs.

During the evening, we headed out to dinner, dodging Tuk-Tuks on the way. We find a nice place on the waterfront, but it is closing as we get there. In Medellin it seems dinner time started at 9pm, but Guatapé it ends by 9. We find a place in the town square, and although primarily just hamburgesas, it was cheap and both of us weren’t particularly hungry since our large lunch. We sat down on the sidewalk tables, only to be told by the waiter that he only served drinks, if we wanted food we had to go upstairs to this tiny little restaurant. We head upstairs, sit and are given a menu. We order our burgers and fries and ask for a coke. The lady who operates the restaurant informs us that she only serves food. Downstairs has all the beverages and we needed to go down there to get one. I ask if we can order the food and take it down and she says no, but we apparently can do the opposite and bring the drink up. Weird as it all seems, when in Colombia! We order the food and the lady, probably feeling sorry for us goes and gets us our drinks and brings them back upstairs. As an added bonus, the hamburger was really good. Not sure what the sauce was, but I think it was the same thing I had for salad dressing at lunch.

We end up back at our hotel, where we can watch the square from our deck, and chill out for the rest of the night.

Day started as they all do, with the free breakfast in the hotel. As a bonus treat, fresh pineapple was on the menu. Love it.

We walked around near the hotel for a little bit, and stopped by a Starbucks for a good coffee ( the hotel coffee not that special.). After watching the people pass by for a half hour or so, we found our way to the metro (similar to. Skytrain) and took it most of the way through town to where we switched lines and took the cable car (which makes up part of the Medellin transit system). The cable car connects parts of the city that previous didn’t even have roads or access to the rest of the city (without a massive uphill hike). We took the cable car all the way to the top of the hill and Parque Arvi, which was about a 45 minute ride.

On the return ride, we shared the cable car with 2 ladies (Marisol and Lauresa) and their 3 boys, David, Juan and Francisco. The ladies are teachers, one from Bogotá visiting the other, and the 3 boys totally entertained us with trying to get us to talk to them more in our Spanish. Entire ride had quite a lot of spanish practice. Lots of fun.

Next, we walked around one of the poorer parts of Medellin (still very safe though), giving Chris a chance to experience the other side of the city. Already 2 in the afternoon and with bikes to pick up soon, we caught the metro line back towards our hotel.

On the way, we decided we had time to sneak in a side trip, so we transferred lines and went out to an area called San Javier. Not as well to do as Poblado, not as poor as the areas we had just seen,San Javier would maybe be Colombian middle class. Very quant and nice area. From there, we went to the escalators. These are outdoor covered escalators, scaling quite a hill, and connecting communa 13 to the rest of the city. 20 years ago, communa 13 was one of the roughest parts of the city, basically lawless. The city decided that the problem was due to lack of connectivity. No roads up the hill meant no access to jobs etc. So they built the escalators to connect it. As an added bonus, they have become a popular tourist destination, with shops, tour guides and more. The area now is quite safe and charming.

We took the metro one last time back to the hotel, and quickly grabbed our riding gear before heading off to get the bikes. About 15 minutes of our sales guy (Julian) explaining the bikes and we were off, right in the middle of rush hour. 15 crazy minutes of psycho cycle and we made it to our hotel.

We spent the next few hours in the hotel parking garage setting up the bikes. Adding our rear racks, lights, charging ports etc. I got mine done really fast and was proudly testing it out when the wires to my chargers suddenly started melting. Chris cut the wires and the fire was averted. Last thing I need to be known for is the Canadian that torched Medellin. Looks like the cheap china USB charger was the problem, and another hour later I have everything else working. Chris is also for the most part all set up.

We end up with a late dinner, and then cruise around the party block people watching for an hour or so before bed.

We wake up and head down to the lobby to see if there has been any luck with the phone being returned. Nothing has been turned in. Next, we go up to the 10th floor for our included breakfast. Nothing spectacular but not bad. Fantastic view of the city though. Nice start to the day, and it is going to be a trick one. Buying a motorcycle in Latin America isn’t as easy as Canada.

Step one… get a RUNT. Basically, this is like a transit permit to be able to buy something. We trip off down a few blocks to find the office I had looked up online, but couldn’t find it anywhere. After a short while, we asked a couple locals and they recommended taking a taxi to Premium Plaza mall and find Secreteria de Movilidad office inside. A $3 cab ride later we are in the mall, at the right office, and in line to get the permit. We fill out the info, get fingerprinted and photographed, and then given a bill that we need to pay at a nearby bank and then return with the receipt. We pay or $4 bill, return and are quickly issued the RUNT. Only 11am, things are going well. Next, we cab across town to the motorcycle shop and arrange the purchase. By about 12:30 we are almost done but need to go exchange our US dollars for Colombian pesos. We find a Casa de cambio and I make my exchange. I leave there with 5 giant wads of pesos, adding up to 9 million in total. Chris gets slightly bigger bills and leaves with 2 wads. We get back to the dealer and pay for the bikes. All done and only 1:30. Off we cab back to our hotel. Bikes will be ready for pickup tomorrow afternoon we are told. They will already have license plates and insurance. This has all gone well despite not one of the people we dealt with speaking any English. We had mangled our way through.

Just after arriving at the hotel I get a WhatsApp message. Chris has unfortunately left the dealer with all the copies of paperwork for his bike, including the ones that they need to finalize the registration. Back in a taxi, we cruise back to the shop, literally drive by, hand papers out the window and continue full circle back to the hotel. Chris is at this point starting to feel like a comedy of errors, but everything is still working out, and we still hold some hope his phone will make it back (being worth 3-4 months of Colombian pay, it is seeming unlikely.

Now late afternoon, we wander around town for a few hours before having a decent dinner on a nice outdoor patio, people watching the crowds. As the evening ends, we both need to make up for lost sleep the night before.

Not too much really to report. Nice relaxing day, spend between visits to the pool and walking around town. Went out in the evening for dinner and drinks with Doug and Ole, decent live band… great food.
Back at the hotel, I get a message from Chris letting me know that his flight from Nanaimo was cancelled due to fog. He was scrambling to the ferry to go direct to Vancouver and got switched to a different flight.

Got up early and went to the top floor of the hotel for the included breakfast. Last time here, with Carolyn, we didn’t realize until our last day that breaky was included. Not a bad breakfast buffet either.

After breakfast I caught the bus out to Walmart and the mall to continue my shoe quest. Very nice, high end mall across from the cruise ship terminal, where I ended up finding a pair for $35. Then I bused back in to town and went to my rooftop pool for a couple hours. I walked the malecon a few times. Quite hot. Lots of people with umbrellas to shade themselves. I hate umbrellas. I have umbrella phobia… the fear that every umbrella is going to poke an eye out. I dodged them all and made it through the sojourn.

After all the umbrellas, I met up with Doug and Ole and had a few beers.

With a 6 am flight out of Nanaimo, Carolyn drove me to the airport at 5am. Quick 15 minute to Vancouver and now an hour and a half wait for my connector. I found the airport lounge and gave it a try for the first time ever (I now have a feee membership with my credit card). Awesome. Nice breakfast of scrambled eggs and sausage and a latte. All free. Much better than typical airport pricing.

Flying business class for the first time in my life was an experience. With a table between me and the person next to me, lots of room. Also, with one person serving 14 passengers lots of snacks, drinks are served.. As a total added bonus, as one of the first off the plane, I got ahead of everyone else and cleared immigration and customs in a breeze.

Exiting the Puerto Vallarta airport, normally I would catch the 50c bus, but with all my bags I bartered with the taxis and caught a cab to downtown and the Portonovo Hotel. The Portonovo is a clean, decent hotel with very small, view less rooms, but also inexpensive.

After my journey through the airports, I realized that the shoes I had chosen to bring are just too worn out. nice, soft slip on sandal/slipper like shoes, but the back heel had lost all stiffness and now they just slide off my feet. After checking in, I cruised around a little looking for shoes without much luck. Everything here is sandals, for those uberbeachy types. I’m not beachy.

Stopping in at the Rosita Hotel while walking around, I run in to my friend Doug (who spends 4-5 months a year here) as well as Ole, who I have met here a few times now. Sat around with them and had a couple beer, before heading back towards the hotel. Near the hotel, I had a $2 street quesadilla, walked around a little more, and then called it a night.