When thinking of the past month in Colombia, I remember having a rollercoaster of emotions, some of the highest highs and some of the most desperate situations we have found ourselves in.
We were riding in the military ¨red zone¨ from Valdivia to Medellin during the first week. There was literally more military than people in some places, and they seemed to be occupying some strange places, like vacated dairy farms. Or some, simply in the middle of nowhere. There were many vacated buildings in this area, why i do not know, but it felt a little eerie riding through areas where people have uped and left and all that remains are a few locals hanging on and some serious looking military personell with some serious military arsenal.
Camping was hard to find in the ¨red zone¨, as the fields were all fenced off and people were sparse due to the difficult and steep terrain. But never the less, we did as we usually do and asked people to use a bit of land next to their house, or a shed or something. The success rate was surprisingly low, we had to almost beg and plead with someone to convince them to let us use a space as darkness aproached. People were very quick to say no and didnt loiter, it felt like they simply didnt want the extra attention drawn to them in an unsafe area by some wandering ¨la mosa en la leche¨(fly in the milk).
Riding along one morning, i was a washing maschine of emotions, feeling a decent bout of home sickness, just wanting to return to a life where something so important is so simple, when we couldnt help but ask at one stall as we rode past many of these roadside stalls selling something wrapped in a leaf. The man handed a parcel to us, shook his head when we offered to pay and said he hoped our journey would be good. It was, well, emotional, a deep feeling of unworthiness came over me.
To experience some of the lowest lows on this journey so far, has certainly put all the incredible kindness weve received into perspective. Cycling is quite a popular past time in this country, which earns us some respect as we get passed slugging up the big hills here with fully laden bikes. This one however was nothing to do with any bike riding fraternity, it was simply some kind heartedness.
We rolled into the town of El Arenal, a town of no more than a hundred people, i did as i usually do and disturb someones normal life with my spill of ¨we are looking for a place to rest, can we use your .....?¨. The young guy i asked didnt own the building we wanted to sleep in, but he rode all over town with us looking for the owner for permission. Yuriko, while waiting at the building for us, was approached by a lady on the way home from the store who asked what she was doing. After returning with permission to use the empty community building, Yuriko said a lady offered us a drink, and a place to stay. So we found her and said thankyou, but no thankyou for the place to stay, but a drink would be greatly appreciated. She replied with well why dont you come over for dinner and a shower atleast?
We sat in her loungeroom why she made us some delicious chicken soup and a big plate of rice, while a gang of kids waited outside quitely watching us inside, waiting for us to finish our meal. Then they had their turn, asking all the questions in the world, their favourite though is how do you say my name in english? A bit of a downer when it translates directly, but a real winner when Pedro becomes Peter!
I didnt want to write so much in this post and instead add more pictures, but, im doing both.
We were riding in the military ¨red zone¨ from Valdivia to Medellin during the first week. There was literally more military than people in some places, and they seemed to be occupying some strange places, like vacated dairy farms. Or some, simply in the middle of nowhere. There were many vacated buildings in this area, why i do not know, but it felt a little eerie riding through areas where people have uped and left and all that remains are a few locals hanging on and some serious looking military personell with some serious military arsenal.
Freddy. Said what we were doing was difficult, what these guys do is no easy task either.
Camping was hard to find in the ¨red zone¨, as the fields were all fenced off and people were sparse due to the difficult and steep terrain. But never the less, we did as we usually do and asked people to use a bit of land next to their house, or a shed or something. The success rate was surprisingly low, we had to almost beg and plead with someone to convince them to let us use a space as darkness aproached. People were very quick to say no and didnt loiter, it felt like they simply didnt want the extra attention drawn to them in an unsafe area by some wandering ¨la mosa en la leche¨(fly in the milk).
Our first view of the Andes.
Riding along one morning, i was a washing maschine of emotions, feeling a decent bout of home sickness, just wanting to return to a life where something so important is so simple, when we couldnt help but ask at one stall as we rode past many of these roadside stalls selling something wrapped in a leaf. The man handed a parcel to us, shook his head when we offered to pay and said he hoped our journey would be good. It was, well, emotional, a deep feeling of unworthiness came over me.
The treat to make our journey a good one was panella, cane sugar.
We rolled into the town of El Arenal, a town of no more than a hundred people, i did as i usually do and disturb someones normal life with my spill of ¨we are looking for a place to rest, can we use your .....?¨. The young guy i asked didnt own the building we wanted to sleep in, but he rode all over town with us looking for the owner for permission. Yuriko, while waiting at the building for us, was approached by a lady on the way home from the store who asked what she was doing. After returning with permission to use the empty community building, Yuriko said a lady offered us a drink, and a place to stay. So we found her and said thankyou, but no thankyou for the place to stay, but a drink would be greatly appreciated. She replied with well why dont you come over for dinner and a shower atleast?
Our hosts in El arenal.
I didnt want to write so much in this post and instead add more pictures, but, im doing both.
these kids went crazy to see us ride past their house (its their house 100m down the road) they chased us up the road (all 7 of them) and had a great time climbing on my trailer.
I hate buses, probably my fault for chosing the main roads where they are most frequently found, but they are the most down right dangerous drivers on the road. Respect to the truck drivers though. These guys were having fun riding a bus chassis through the mountains.
The gang at Centro de Deportes, Yaramul. Diego (holding Yurikos bike) was most helpful in fixing an unusual problem, a brokern seat post. Would have been ok if there was something to hold onto to extract the old broken part, but it sheered of at the seat tube flush and required an hour of chiseling and bahing in the nearest metal shop to be able to fit another one. I am all smiles after feeling every blow with a hammer on my bike to fit a new seat post. Less bjan de paises (a famously large typical meal in Colombia) from now on.
i am on a mission to find the biggest plataino. A kind of banana used for frying here, and on most plates at meal time. Usually eaten green & fried, i like them yellow and raw.
Unfortunately the girth on this one isnt on the one above. Would be a recored breaker if it was. Not even my sausage fingers can fit around this one.
We vivited a mountain village called Silvia near Popayan. The people here in their beautiful ponchos typical of the area and taxis in the background, troopy style.
The food has been quite outstanding. Here in a market place, the best and cheapest place to find food, is a bowl of cow stomach and a plate of cow tounge, served across the isle from the butcher who prepared it Yum.
Some friendly riders near Popayan. Anderson and Jose do some road side adjustments to Yurikos derailers.
Colombia, our first taste of the Andes. They are big.
Tinto, or coffee. Served (annoyingly) in these little plastic cups, its strong, sweet and good. $1 for 10 of these cups. The drug which is highly approved of here, and exported all over the world no pronlems at all.
Carlos, Yuriko and me sharing a salpicon, sickly sweet, but all good. Carlos was our second warmshowers host in Colombia, he showed us a great time in Tulua. Thanks Carlos.
Next up, Ecuador. Im excited.
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