Puerto Bogotá → Ambalema → Girardot → El Guamo
I don't usually write in the morning, but today i feel inspired. Perhaps it's the silence accompanying Good Friday? The only thing i can hear is birds in the trees outside and the constant whirring of the overhead fan.
My last entry i was in a bit a funk in a cheap hotel in Puerto Bogotá, just across the river from Honda. I didn't realize at that point that i had transitioned from the "puerto belt" to the "weekender belt", but it makes sense now.
The hill heading out of Honda/Puerto Bogotá was absolutely brutal. I don't think it was more than about 100m in climb, but there was construction on the road and only one lane was open in each direction. I got halfway up the construction and - exhausted - i had to pull over to stop. Which of course meant all the 18 wheeler trucks and other traffic was headed straight towards me in a very thin lane. I squeezed up against the barricade and tried my best not to vomit - i couldn't get enough clean air into my lungs, and every time a truck slowed down to see if i was okay they just belched more diesel fumes into my face and i wanted to die.
Eventually a construction worker stopped the traffic long enough for me to cut through into the new asphalt and let the rest of the trucks head down hill. But the stench of new asphalt wasn't much better than the diesel fumes. Head down, i stepped back onto my pedals and gathered all my energy to make it over the hill.
God knows how i would fare trying to get up the Andes proper - to Bogotá or Manizales (and ultimately Medellín). When i cycled in Canada i had several days where i had some very steep climbs around the Rockies, but that was on a much lighter bike, with many more gears, and even then i tried to arrange my routes so that i had the least amount of climbing each day. Honda to Manizales in particular is rated as one of the world's most difficult cycle climbs, and of course that attracts a shit ton of bicycle heroes to the neighborhood. After cycling halfway across Colombia and most only seeing peasants on utility bikes, around Honda i started seeing dudes on carbon fiber racing frames with multi-colored Tour de France jerseys blasting up and down the hills like they had freakin' engines strapped to their tiny, rock-hard butt cheeks.
No shade - those dudes are completely different cyclists to me - they're hardcore hobbyists (or perhaps even professionals) who love spending money on expensive gear and calculating their RPMs and weight to speed ratio and whatever else. I just have a bike so i can get from A to B on my own power, not because i care about cycling as a sport, or even a hobby. And some of those Tour de France guys do have a soft spot for low budget cycle tourists like me - yesterday a dude unzipped a pocket in the back of his jersey and pulled out a 2000 peso note, then handed it to me as he shot past, saying "so you can buy another bottle of water"! A thoughtful donation in a country where the tap water is mostly not potable.
Anyway, so i made it up the piddling 100m climb that would've gone another 2000m to Bogotá, but i turned right before the rest of that foolish quest and followed the highway along the river valley. And it sure is one of the most beautiful sections of this ride. South of the cliffs of Honda, the Río Magdalena widens out a bit again, but both sides of the river feature steep, triangular mountains, completely covered in jungly, rainforesty undergrowth. Also, because most of the trucks peel off in the direction of Bogotá, the road is extremely quiet and peaceful - it's a perfect place to ride if you don't mind just a few hills.
After getting caught in a sudden and very heavy rainstorm, i followed the road down to Cambao, then - just for fun - i crossed the river and switched to a small farm road that headed down to a town called Ambalema. That proved to be a good decision, because at that point on the western side of the river, the mountains recede a bit and the flood plains have been developed as rice paddies. It was a lovely feeling to be cycling along a raised road with these low fields on both sides filled with the bright green shades of young rice, a volcano looming in the distance. It really felt like i was on the edge of the Pacific Ring of Fire, although technically perhaps that wasn't the case. But, you know, volcanos, palm trees, rice paddies, where would you picture yourself?
Ambalema is another cute little town like Honda, filled with cobbledy streets and old whitewashed buildings with red tile rooves. It is, of course, a tourist trap. I had no luck finding a cheap hotel here, so i sucked it up and spent 85000 pesos on a hotel with a piscina. Turns out it was also the first hotel i have been to in almost 6 months that had hot water, but apparently i now have Stockholm syndrome, because even when i did shower i just had a quick 30 second Navy splash under the cold water tap again.
I also struggled a bit more with the cultural difference of being in the Bogotá bubble. I chatted with some of the hotel workers, and explained some of my difficulties understanding the language of people more inland from the coast. Rather than acknowledging my experience, i got some kind of lecturing tone that people on the coast speak much more quickly and irregularly, therefore the slow and more correct speech of Bogotá is much easier for foreigners to understand. You know what? Fuck you fucking guys. This is some Beijing-ass bullshit, where there is a classist narrative constructed around the greatness of the capital city and the backwardness of outlying regions. I don't think they necessarily intend to sound like snobs, but they do.
It really doesn't help that this part of the country is filled with very expensive cars carrying Bogotá license plates, out of which mostly-white families tumble to slum it in the valley where the weather is warmer and the people are poorer... and several shades darker.
But there is an upside to being in a touristy area, and that's that it is undeniably a charming and beautiful surrounds. The next morning i got on a boat to take me back across the river, and i sure was lucky i only had a bicycle and not a heavier vehicle - turns out the "ferry" at the Ambalema crossing is just a sampan, so we wrestled my bike into the front and i clung onto it as we zoomed against the current to get back across the river.
Back on the 45, around the town of Nariño, a bicycle path appeared! Oh, what a luxury to zoom along a dedicated cycle path, without needing to worry about heavy vehicles looming behind. The irony is that along that section of the road there are hardly any trucks anyway - bicycle paths would be a lot more useful along the sections of the Magdalena Medio where 18 wheelers roar past every few seconds... but i suppose that part of the country is just a long highway where the sporting cyclists who might lobby for a dedicated path would just drive through in their SUVs.
Still, it was a delight. Looping around the the spiky ridgeline, i pedaled back up the hill to Girardot, another weekend holiday destination for the people of Bogotá. It was difficult to find an affordable hotel, but i did eventually get one without a piscina. The town was filled with families on vacation, and that's when it kinda sank in that Easter break was on.
The next morning my bike had a flat tire. I had been a little worried that might happen, because the day before i had pulled a large thorn out of the front wheel. It didn't give an instant flat, but obviously there was a slow leak. This is the first time i've gotten a flat on this bike, so i quickly learned how to remove a wheel with a drum brake using a spanner, instead of the idiot-proof quick release lever. Changing the tube wasn't a problem, but i did struggle to re-tension the cable of the front brake. It was tough to do alone, and even tougher without a set of pliers to grip the cable. I got some help from some other dudes in the hotel, but even then it wasn't properly reset when i got back on the road.
Due to the time it had taken to mess around with trying to re-tension the brake, i barely went anywhere yesterday. I made it something like 30km down the road to the village of El Guamo, where i finally found a motorcycle mechanic that was open. I'm not sure if Thursday is a special holiday for Easter in Colombia, but almost all of the small businesses were closed - notably the mechanics. I decided to go to a motorcycle shop instead of a bicycle shop because i figured motorcycle mechanics are more used to dealing with drum brakes. The guy did know more-or-less how to adjust the brakes, but he didn't have tools in the right size. What he was able to do, however, was apply more elbow grease to get the cable tight enough that the front brakes kinda-sorta worked again, instead of not working at all.
After the frustrating day, i just decided to stop. I checked into a hospedaje in town and bought up a bit more fruit and bread than normal just in case Good Friday means nothing the fuck is open.
And here i am, on my bed, with silence outside. Guamo is a quiet town, but i can't tell if it's quiet because of Easter or because it's small. Last night i went to a bar, which was packed with people sitting at tables outside drinking beers, but uncharacteristically in Colombia there was no music blasting out the speakers at all - not vallenato (accordion music), not nothing. Out front of the churches, though, there were sound systems blaring Gregorian chants and other holy-sounding music. Perhaps there is an unspoken rule not to play any non-religious tunes around Easter? I dunno. Seems a bit funny because plenty of people were using the holiday to get rip-roaring drunk, but perhaps that's just Catholicism for you.
I am getting within striking distance of the Tatacoa desert, but due to the holiday i'm not sure when the best time to head in there will be. My current thought is to head a little bit further south today, to a town called Natagaima, then ask around about the best route. Seeing as i am in a tourist area again, there should be plenty of accommodation, i'm just not sure if it'll be packed for the Easter weekend.
We'll see. I will say i am feeling a bit less miserable than i was before. My stomach has recovered a bit, and i feel like i can breathe more fresh air again. Not sure how much of it is psychological, but i do have a sense that i am kinda "done" with Colombia, and Latin America (or perhaps South America?) in general. It's never been a place that much captured my imagination, and although it has been interesting to visit, i don't really feel like i'll be missing much if i leave without having seen the big cities or the major tourist sights... I'm tired and i feel like the main drawcard here is cheap accommodation and cheap fruit. Which is not nothing, but also it's not really enough either.
Which isn't to say i hate my life. Traveling like this still feels much more relaxing and more free than any kind of daily grind. I'm just in an emotionally weird space, where i know that i am on the last of my pre-planned budget, and if i do dip into savings, i want to be a bit more thoughtful about where i go. I guess the problem right now is, i think i need to sit down and meditate on the next steps a bit more seriously, but i haven't quite found a comfortable spot where i would like to settle and ponder. Perhaps that should be my next short-term goal, finding a good base for thought?
My last entry i was in a bit a funk in a cheap hotel in Puerto Bogotá, just across the river from Honda. I didn't realize at that point that i had transitioned from the "puerto belt" to the "weekender belt", but it makes sense now.
The hill heading out of Honda/Puerto Bogotá was absolutely brutal. I don't think it was more than about 100m in climb, but there was construction on the road and only one lane was open in each direction. I got halfway up the construction and - exhausted - i had to pull over to stop. Which of course meant all the 18 wheeler trucks and other traffic was headed straight towards me in a very thin lane. I squeezed up against the barricade and tried my best not to vomit - i couldn't get enough clean air into my lungs, and every time a truck slowed down to see if i was okay they just belched more diesel fumes into my face and i wanted to die.
Eventually a construction worker stopped the traffic long enough for me to cut through into the new asphalt and let the rest of the trucks head down hill. But the stench of new asphalt wasn't much better than the diesel fumes. Head down, i stepped back onto my pedals and gathered all my energy to make it over the hill.
God knows how i would fare trying to get up the Andes proper - to Bogotá or Manizales (and ultimately Medellín). When i cycled in Canada i had several days where i had some very steep climbs around the Rockies, but that was on a much lighter bike, with many more gears, and even then i tried to arrange my routes so that i had the least amount of climbing each day. Honda to Manizales in particular is rated as one of the world's most difficult cycle climbs, and of course that attracts a shit ton of bicycle heroes to the neighborhood. After cycling halfway across Colombia and most only seeing peasants on utility bikes, around Honda i started seeing dudes on carbon fiber racing frames with multi-colored Tour de France jerseys blasting up and down the hills like they had freakin' engines strapped to their tiny, rock-hard butt cheeks.
No shade - those dudes are completely different cyclists to me - they're hardcore hobbyists (or perhaps even professionals) who love spending money on expensive gear and calculating their RPMs and weight to speed ratio and whatever else. I just have a bike so i can get from A to B on my own power, not because i care about cycling as a sport, or even a hobby. And some of those Tour de France guys do have a soft spot for low budget cycle tourists like me - yesterday a dude unzipped a pocket in the back of his jersey and pulled out a 2000 peso note, then handed it to me as he shot past, saying "so you can buy another bottle of water"! A thoughtful donation in a country where the tap water is mostly not potable.
Anyway, so i made it up the piddling 100m climb that would've gone another 2000m to Bogotá, but i turned right before the rest of that foolish quest and followed the highway along the river valley. And it sure is one of the most beautiful sections of this ride. South of the cliffs of Honda, the Río Magdalena widens out a bit again, but both sides of the river feature steep, triangular mountains, completely covered in jungly, rainforesty undergrowth. Also, because most of the trucks peel off in the direction of Bogotá, the road is extremely quiet and peaceful - it's a perfect place to ride if you don't mind just a few hills.
After getting caught in a sudden and very heavy rainstorm, i followed the road down to Cambao, then - just for fun - i crossed the river and switched to a small farm road that headed down to a town called Ambalema. That proved to be a good decision, because at that point on the western side of the river, the mountains recede a bit and the flood plains have been developed as rice paddies. It was a lovely feeling to be cycling along a raised road with these low fields on both sides filled with the bright green shades of young rice, a volcano looming in the distance. It really felt like i was on the edge of the Pacific Ring of Fire, although technically perhaps that wasn't the case. But, you know, volcanos, palm trees, rice paddies, where would you picture yourself?
Ambalema is another cute little town like Honda, filled with cobbledy streets and old whitewashed buildings with red tile rooves. It is, of course, a tourist trap. I had no luck finding a cheap hotel here, so i sucked it up and spent 85000 pesos on a hotel with a piscina. Turns out it was also the first hotel i have been to in almost 6 months that had hot water, but apparently i now have Stockholm syndrome, because even when i did shower i just had a quick 30 second Navy splash under the cold water tap again.
I also struggled a bit more with the cultural difference of being in the Bogotá bubble. I chatted with some of the hotel workers, and explained some of my difficulties understanding the language of people more inland from the coast. Rather than acknowledging my experience, i got some kind of lecturing tone that people on the coast speak much more quickly and irregularly, therefore the slow and more correct speech of Bogotá is much easier for foreigners to understand. You know what? Fuck you fucking guys. This is some Beijing-ass bullshit, where there is a classist narrative constructed around the greatness of the capital city and the backwardness of outlying regions. I don't think they necessarily intend to sound like snobs, but they do.
It really doesn't help that this part of the country is filled with very expensive cars carrying Bogotá license plates, out of which mostly-white families tumble to slum it in the valley where the weather is warmer and the people are poorer... and several shades darker.
But there is an upside to being in a touristy area, and that's that it is undeniably a charming and beautiful surrounds. The next morning i got on a boat to take me back across the river, and i sure was lucky i only had a bicycle and not a heavier vehicle - turns out the "ferry" at the Ambalema crossing is just a sampan, so we wrestled my bike into the front and i clung onto it as we zoomed against the current to get back across the river.
Back on the 45, around the town of Nariño, a bicycle path appeared! Oh, what a luxury to zoom along a dedicated cycle path, without needing to worry about heavy vehicles looming behind. The irony is that along that section of the road there are hardly any trucks anyway - bicycle paths would be a lot more useful along the sections of the Magdalena Medio where 18 wheelers roar past every few seconds... but i suppose that part of the country is just a long highway where the sporting cyclists who might lobby for a dedicated path would just drive through in their SUVs.
Still, it was a delight. Looping around the the spiky ridgeline, i pedaled back up the hill to Girardot, another weekend holiday destination for the people of Bogotá. It was difficult to find an affordable hotel, but i did eventually get one without a piscina. The town was filled with families on vacation, and that's when it kinda sank in that Easter break was on.
The next morning my bike had a flat tire. I had been a little worried that might happen, because the day before i had pulled a large thorn out of the front wheel. It didn't give an instant flat, but obviously there was a slow leak. This is the first time i've gotten a flat on this bike, so i quickly learned how to remove a wheel with a drum brake using a spanner, instead of the idiot-proof quick release lever. Changing the tube wasn't a problem, but i did struggle to re-tension the cable of the front brake. It was tough to do alone, and even tougher without a set of pliers to grip the cable. I got some help from some other dudes in the hotel, but even then it wasn't properly reset when i got back on the road.
Due to the time it had taken to mess around with trying to re-tension the brake, i barely went anywhere yesterday. I made it something like 30km down the road to the village of El Guamo, where i finally found a motorcycle mechanic that was open. I'm not sure if Thursday is a special holiday for Easter in Colombia, but almost all of the small businesses were closed - notably the mechanics. I decided to go to a motorcycle shop instead of a bicycle shop because i figured motorcycle mechanics are more used to dealing with drum brakes. The guy did know more-or-less how to adjust the brakes, but he didn't have tools in the right size. What he was able to do, however, was apply more elbow grease to get the cable tight enough that the front brakes kinda-sorta worked again, instead of not working at all.
After the frustrating day, i just decided to stop. I checked into a hospedaje in town and bought up a bit more fruit and bread than normal just in case Good Friday means nothing the fuck is open.
And here i am, on my bed, with silence outside. Guamo is a quiet town, but i can't tell if it's quiet because of Easter or because it's small. Last night i went to a bar, which was packed with people sitting at tables outside drinking beers, but uncharacteristically in Colombia there was no music blasting out the speakers at all - not vallenato (accordion music), not nothing. Out front of the churches, though, there were sound systems blaring Gregorian chants and other holy-sounding music. Perhaps there is an unspoken rule not to play any non-religious tunes around Easter? I dunno. Seems a bit funny because plenty of people were using the holiday to get rip-roaring drunk, but perhaps that's just Catholicism for you.
I am getting within striking distance of the Tatacoa desert, but due to the holiday i'm not sure when the best time to head in there will be. My current thought is to head a little bit further south today, to a town called Natagaima, then ask around about the best route. Seeing as i am in a tourist area again, there should be plenty of accommodation, i'm just not sure if it'll be packed for the Easter weekend.
We'll see. I will say i am feeling a bit less miserable than i was before. My stomach has recovered a bit, and i feel like i can breathe more fresh air again. Not sure how much of it is psychological, but i do have a sense that i am kinda "done" with Colombia, and Latin America (or perhaps South America?) in general. It's never been a place that much captured my imagination, and although it has been interesting to visit, i don't really feel like i'll be missing much if i leave without having seen the big cities or the major tourist sights... I'm tired and i feel like the main drawcard here is cheap accommodation and cheap fruit. Which is not nothing, but also it's not really enough either.
Which isn't to say i hate my life. Traveling like this still feels much more relaxing and more free than any kind of daily grind. I'm just in an emotionally weird space, where i know that i am on the last of my pre-planned budget, and if i do dip into savings, i want to be a bit more thoughtful about where i go. I guess the problem right now is, i think i need to sit down and meditate on the next steps a bit more seriously, but i haven't quite found a comfortable spot where i would like to settle and ponder. Perhaps that should be my next short-term goal, finding a good base for thought?