seen me travel from the glorious walled city of Cartagena on Colombia’s Caribbean coast to its antithesis, the modern skyscraped metropolis of Medellín, nestled in the northern Andes. As my good cycling friend Urs would say, “this can only bring about the mileage of smileage”.
5 days trying to keep my dinner down on a boat and 4 days doing pretty much nada in Cartagena left me craving the saddle once again. I was mad for the mountains too after the Central American stretch which was as flat as the proverbial pancake and baking hot to boot. I didn’t have to wait long either as 3 days out of Cartagena the beginnings of the Andes could be seen; the land becoming ever slightly warped and within 24 hours, rising hastily from the ground.
Colombia seems like it could be a country of characters now that I’ve had a week to saturate myself in it. My first night was spent in a 12,000COP ($6) Posada in San Onofre which I had been sheparderd to by Tulio, a hefty, bullish man who spotted me getting my bearings upon arrival. He claimed to be a ‘tour guide’ in Cartagena and who was I to doubt with his proficiency in English either? But after hearing some unorthodox slang, I thought to ask where he learned the language, only to find out it was on the streets. So, naturally I thought to pry into his exact line of work in the tourism sector. “Oh, I sell cocaine to tourists in Cartagena” was his animated response. “90% of you guys are looking for the good stuff up here”. Tour guide indeed I thought. Instead of worrying about staying in the Hotel of a coke dealer (which was actually his mother’s – a lovely lady who took to stroking my hair while updating the GPS later that evening), I took the opportunity to chat with him about cocaine and Colombia as maybe he’d have some rare insights. Tulio was a pretty cool companion to have in the end, taking me out for dinner and the next morning for breakfast. I met his brother too, perhaps the smiliest man I’ve ever encountered. This guy was also quite proud to show me his extensive mobile phone porn collection just before I went to bed, switching enthusiastically from video to video and searching for an impressed expression on my weary face. Satisfied with the evening’s proceedings – and perhaps a little disturbed – I fell asleep without a problem.
Not soon after hitting the road from San Onofre, a car pulled in to the shoulder just ahead of me. 3 figures got out and cracked the boot open. Thinking it just couldn’t be, especially in Colombia of all places, I was glad to see lemonade and biscuits readied instead of an uncomfortable resting place. A judge and his two children from Sincelejo, the next town over, were delighted to meet me but insisted that all people here wouldn’t as friendly as them. It was an encouraging sign though and not the last in the succeeding days where I’d be extended truly incredible hospitality. The flat landscape may have been relatively uninspiring but the people most definitely were not.