Bogotá is for sure not one of the most beautiful cities on my trip, but at least it’s the city where I spent most of my time so far. Finally because of heavy rain storms. As soon as there’s a good weather window, I take my motorcycle and say good-bye to Bogotá…what I didn’t know: I will return far sooner than ever expected.
But first to the historical town Villa de Leyva in colonial style, which attracts many tourists on their way from the North coast down to one of the bigger cities.
Although not coming from the North, it’s my plan to go to Medellin next, which I try to reach the same day. A long way through forests and up and down of hundreds of hills. As this side of the country is not too frequented, I can go in a good pace.
The pavement is changing between good condition and not available. After a certain time I find my pace to go. Not too slow to get the impression to be walking and not too fast of not being able to react in case of … a slipping front wheel, which just happens in the middle of nowhere. No idea why my front wheel finally slipped away on a passage of dirt just before the pavement started again but it just happened. The crash bar hooks into the edge of the asphalt, bends away, tears off the cylinder protection and the cylinder cover breaks. So, I lose nearly all engine oil within seconds. If it happened just a few feet further, my motorcycle would have slidden a bit on the pavement without any big damages but now I’m grounded.
As this happens in the middle of nowhere, I had no cell coverage, no internet and also no city close by. After a few minutes locals come by and help me to get the motorcycle from the street. We examine the damage and realise that this is nothing which could be repaired by a common workshop and for sure not on the street without the right spare parts. And suddenly the locals were gone…but not to fetch help. They were just gone and never came back. After a certain time a small bus full of pilgrims stops. The pilgrims jump out of the bus and are eager to help. Thousands of ideas like getting a small truck from one of the pilgrim’s brother in law at the next village and transport my motorcycle to the next town with it or contact a friend at BMW Bogota and get all spare parts shipped by chicken bus within one day. All sounds good and like a working solution…if someone was eager enough to get it done. The bus with all pilgrims disappears again as they needed cell coverage but at least one of them wants to return in the next hour to tell me which solution will work best. In the meantime I push my motorcycle to a hut, in which an old couple lives.
One hour of waiting: Nothing. Two hours of waiting: Nothing. So, I need a plan B. I stop the next passing bus and go to the next town in which I try to get a connection to Medellin or Bogota. It’s 10pm and I catch the last bus to Bogota. Four hours later I arrive where I started the day before. At BMW Bogota I try to get the spare parts but they direct me to their warehouse, at which they should have prepared all necessary parts. It finally takes them “only” three hours to hand me over the parts. Nonetheless now I have them! The service man is as happy as I am. Just to enjoy this nice moment a bit more, I open the box for the cylinder cover…and figure out that it’s for the wrong side. After a short discussion the service man disappears into the warehouse again and comes back a few minutes later with empty hands: They don’t have the correct cover in here. They don’t have it in whole Colombia. The shipment from Germany would take about four weeks. With this information he wants to lead me out of the building but I don’t move. This cannot be the end of the trip! Ok, I accept that there’s no new cover available in this country. A cylinder cover for the opposite side doesn’t fit. But what about a used cover for the left side? Wide opened eyes stare at me. He runs away and gets back with his phone. I have a call now with the german Aftersales Service Director of Autogermana BMW Colombia and one hour later I’m the proud owner of a used, fitting cylinder cover for my Beast, which they just taken off from one of their training motorcycles. Amazing!
A huge thank-you again to Autogermana BMW Colombia for this incredible support which helped me continuing my trip!
For sure my tip was far higher than usual.
Back to my motorcycle with buses through the next night. After hours I recognise the area where I had my crash and I jump out of the bus. As the couple where my motorcycle stays is already sleeping, I take my sleeping bag and lie besides of my motorcycle. With the sun rise I get it repaired and it runs immediately. Only the bended crash bar doesn’t fit any more. Later in Cali, Walter a very encouraged and talented engineer is able to mount it again with a lot of effort and heat from the blowpipe.
With a big delay I arrive in Medellin, which is really nice…but unfortunately I caught rainy days for my visit. That’s why I decide to head further south to the coffee district where I take a warm bath in one of the natural thermals and join a very interesting tour at a coffee plantation which lasted more than four hours although only two hours were planned. I was able to go through the whole process of creating coffee from picking the fruits over roasting up to drinking (my favourite part). Probably one of the best tours ever I’ve done. With the strength of self-made coffee I head to Cali.
Cali is known as the birthplace of Salsa. Nearly everywhere you can find a place to dance or move your body according to the music. I love to dance but for whatever reason, Salsa doesn’t attract me too much.
Finally that’s not a big deal breaker as Cali has more to offer than Salsa. You can find a lot of historical sites or modern art in this city.
After a long sightseeing tour, I play “Sapo” in a dive bar…and lose every time against the locals although I was so close to win.
It’s time for a new country: Ecuador. …finally hundreds of other people thought the same and so I’m in a huge line with five hours waiting time in front of the migration building. A short time before that I was walking in summer clothes in Colombia and now I’m packed in my winter clothes and I’m freezing. Suddenly one migration officer walks by and asks for passports. With what else should I cross the border? Nonetheless, this is my entry card to get over the border within a few minutes. I should have known that before…the majority of the people in the line didn’t have a passport, that’s why it took so long. A short visit at the “Aduana” office to get the registration for the Beast and we’re in Ecuador.
Not really sure what my expectations were of this country…maybe something similar to Colombia… Finally I get surprised by a deluxe version of Colombia. Streets in nearly always good condition. Clean cities and masses of organised sport groups who play football (soccer) or cycle up and down the mountains. Even the poor quarters of the big cities aren’t that scary. On a calm Sunday morning I was accidentally driving through one of them with my motorcycle when I glimpsed a nice view over Quito. So I stopped to take a picture of that view with my phone. Taking out your phone to take a picture isn’t a good idea in a poor neighbourhood in other countries. Behind my back I hear two man shouting something to me… probably that wasn’t a good idea in Quito either…but they offered my to take a picture of my with Quito in the background. Without any doubts I hand them over my pricey smartphone, show them how they can take a picture and they are really proud when they show me the result. I get my phone back and they wish me a nice day. Not sure if this is something what you should expect somewhere else.
As the guidebook complimented Quito a lot, which I second that because of its beautiful old town with its nightlife, I was open to take a detour and see the next big suggestion of the guidebook: Guayaquil. The new promenade at the river and the surroundings were praised several times. Long story short: I do not recommend visiting this city! It’s overpraised. The promenade is overcrowded and not spectacular at all. The scenery includes a dirty, stinky river and the inner city is only frequented at rush hours.
A better choice is Cuance. Although many tourists for Ecuador but a pretty little city to walk through the small alleys of the old town and discover little cafés and shops.
While I’m walking on the street viewing my last shots of the city attractions on my smartphone, someone speaks to me: James from Bremerton (close to Seattle, where I live right now). He was afraid that I got lost in the small streets of Cuenca in which he’s living for about one year already. He tells me his story how he’s able to chose his place to live wherever on this planet without the need to work while we have lunch together to which he invites me.
After that we wish each other good luck and I explore the city on my own. It’s really a nice town but I feel the hunger for Peru, that’s why I hit the road again after a short walking tour.
I prepare myself spending the night in my sleeping bag at one of the border stations, as I can remember pretty well the long queue at the ecuadorian-peruian border. A little bit disappointed I realise that this time I’m the only one wanting to cross the border. I use the saved time to go to the next city and rest in a comfortable bed to prepare myself for the long way to Lima through desert and along the coast.
As this is the only wide road from the North to the capital, it’s quite frequented especially by trucks. That’s why I decide to make a small detour of maybe 100km (60 miles) over the mountains as soon as I see them.
Finally the additional distance wasn’t the issue but the condition of the road, although “road” wouldn’t be the right term for that. Dozens of steep hairpin bends on gravel along deep cliffs take far longer than expected.At least I’m nearly the only one on this track. The people in the villages are also quite surprised seeing me. As soon as the sun sets, I set up my tent and sleep in the woods. The next day I start early and arrive in the capital. What a contrast: In the morning alone in the wilderness. In the evening amidst eight million people.
The Beast doesn’t turn to a pumpkin at midnight but to a Diva…that’s why I have to get some parts and get it repaired … finally. No idea how often I said that in the last few weeks. Maybe it’s not her fault but some mechanics are playing games with me…it’s the third petrol pump which she gets in the last six weeks.
Best view i have ever seen !