a change, a loooooong trip, and Bogota

I dont even know where to begin really. The trip has changed dramatically in a way that i had not anticipated, but it has proven to be an amazing one. In David, Panama I realized that there was no reason for me to be riding on a road like an interstate in the US with no shoulder and whizzing traffic. It is not fun, and with 500km left to Panama City, I shuddered at the thought of spending three more days on the road. So i loaded my bike onto a bus for the trip into the city.

I ended up in a backpackers hostel in a pretty decent part of the city, it was one of the last beds in any of the inexpensive hostels in the entire city. It was amazing to see the insane number of backpackers in the city, I dont think I have ever seen anything like it. At the hostel I ended up at, I met and had a meal with an American guy named Aaron who was about to end a 14 month around the world by biking home to San Fran from Panama. A very ambitious trip, especially for someone who was already travel weary and who has never done a bike trip in his life. But, Aaron is super commited and is raising money for Plan USA, an organization that helps impoverished children throughout the world.

Over the next two days and many beers we came to an arrangement that I would sell,rent,loan parts of my bike to him for his journey. It made sense. I was tired of biking alone after a month coming down from Nicaragua, he was about to buy a bike, racks, bags, and gear in Panama. So he gave me his backpack and I gave him the bike! Just like that we each got what we wanted and were happy with the way that it happened. I decided not to sell him the bike at all, but make it my donation to his cause. At the end of the trip, he will box up the bike and gear and ship it back to me, hopefully all in working shape! I believe in his sincerity to make this journey happen and I wish him the best of luck. He has a blog as well, where you can see his progress and also contribute to Plan USA.

http://lasthillbeforehome.blogspot.com/

There are only a few choices on how to get from Panama to Colombia. In between the two countries is one of the largest unknown jungle regions in the world. There are no roads, hardly any people at all, minus the reported guerilla groups active in the area, and endless jungle so dense it oozes green sludge out into the ocean because there is no more room in the forest. For the traveller there are basically four sane choices: you can fly--BORING--, take a charter sail boat through the carribean, or figure out random connections on cargo ships and small boats through the carribean or the pacific. The easiest things to set up are flights and trips on sailboats. The sailboat is more of a luxury vacation: five days in turquoise waters with a two day stop at tropical isolated islands. I inquired into a trip and actually for some insane reason booked a trip that cost almost as much as all of my airfare for this trip. I figured that it was so easy and that i wasnt going to have to spend any time waiting or looking for other options. Sometimes travellers that opt to hunt for cargo ships wait weeks to find a boat that will take them and then have complete shit shows out at sea making the voyage.

Then as things began to fall into place, as they always do, i completely changed my plan, as i always do. The same day that i handed over my bicycle to Aaron i met another American at the same hostel who was trying to get on a cargo ship to Colombia. Zach is from Austin, Texas and Great Barrington, Mass and right away we hit it off. It was decided that with my new backpack in tow, we were making this journey together. And then theres Dave from Vermont. He rode his motorcycle down from Colorado and is going to Argentina. Also a really fun guy, he completed the trifecta.

Zach and Dave had already found a ship leaving Panama City the next day headed south along the Pacific coast. We had to convince the captain to let another passenger on, but it went smoothly, and before long we were waiting at the docks to board the Victoria C.

This boat was packed to the brim with cargo and passengers alike. We boarded at night in such a chaotic scene as to actually make us nervous. We were about to begin a journey that would take anywhere from four days to who knows how many. The Victoria was to take us 14 hours to the Panamanian frontier town of Jaque, then a small two hour ride to the Colombian frontier town of Jurado, and then the final 30 hour cargo ship ride to Buenaventura. This route is rarely taken by gringo travellers, so we had very little information going into it, but the three of us were commited to the adventure and whatever was going to happen would anyway. That first ride along the Victoria was a blast. We motored away to the midnight lights of Panama City, past the shoulder to shoulder luxury highrises out into the darkness of the Darien. We slept on the deck under the stars, and woke in the morning to dolphins jumping and playing alongside the boat. The sun fried us but we cared little becuase we we out on the open seas, laughing with the rest of the passengers on the boat.

Getting off in Jaque is another story. There is no dock so all of the passengers and cargo has to be unloaded from the main ship into little tiny boats that flock to the sides of the Victoria waiting for the passengers litteraly to jump from one ship to the other. We did this in a storm with huge swells that rocked us hard. Trying to jump into a small boat that is getting airborn is not easy. Needless to say we were very grateful to be on land again. Jaque is a sleepy town, no roads, no cars, and really fresh fish. We had to wait until the next day until we could hire someone with a boat to take us farther down the coast into Colombia. That trip was also done in a storm but this time we were speeding like mad alongside the jungle, grins blazing. The three of us would shoot glimpes at eachother with expressions of holy shit did you see that.

Little did we know that Jurado would be our home for a week because we had just missed the boat that would take us to Buenaventura, on the central coast of Colombia. Jurado is a trip. We were greeted by a huge crowd of police and military that took as back to the compound to register as foriegn visitors and to offer us a campsite on the beach right behind the station. The police there are young kids who basically resent the fact that they were posted in the middle of nowhere while their friends were working in cities throughout the country. It was common to see officers arguing over whether or not Jurado is the shittiest place in all of Colombia. We loved it however. There are no road, no cars, lots of beach, great people, and cheap beer. We had a great campsite with free 24 hour security and plenty of time to do nothing. It didnt take long before everyone in the town knew exactly who we were and where we were from. The police hounded us constantly wanting to talk to anyone other than the other people in Jurado. They love to party even while working and they were fun to hang out with. Every day we ate the same massive plate of food at the same restaurant and loved it.

After a week of it though we were bored as shit and counted the seconds until the boat came. The only problem is though that nobody knew when it would come. It does when it does is basically the only correct answer. It came, we left, gladly.

30 hours later we departed the Correo Del Pacifico in the massive port town of Buenaventura. The city has been notorious in the past as being one of the most dangerous cities in the world, but we loved it! The street food was plentiful and cheap and the people friendly. We had a day to kill before catching the overnight bus to Bogota.

Unfortunatley the cheap food caught up with me on the bus and it made the 12 hours terrible for me. Riding through the Andes in the bathroom of a coach bus is a horrible experience, one i dont recommend to anyone. We pulled into Bogota in the early morning elated to have finally arrived at our destination after 10 days of travel. A friend from one of the boat rides offered to put us up once we arrived, and that is where we are staying right now.

Bogota is a great city. We have only been here for a day, but it is proving itself to be a great place. Zach and I will travel together for a while it seems. The two of us have become close and we make great travel mates.

I plan on staying the rest of my trip in Colombia. Already i love it and have not seen any of it. After a month longer here i hope to really get a sense of the place.

Coastal CR and Panama

Where to begin? Last i left off the road ran south towards the ocean. The road from La Tigre towards San Ramon was very hard, about 30km uphill. The weather though was nice and cool, the perfect conditions for riding. On the road i met a cyclist named Roberto who invited me back to his house in San Ramon for the night. A really great guy with a great family, he spoke english really well and is very well travelled. In his house i noticed that the sceen saver for his computer was the album cover to the Dead's 'Live' album. Turns out that not only is he a huge deadhead, but also of really great music in general. We spent the night drinking red wine and listening to Neil Young and spanish flamenco music. His family treated me to great meals and a really nice time. They had the biggest dog i've ever seen in my entire life, a sheepdog named Pesita.

I took off in the morning with the goal of swimming in the pacific by nightfall. The road was really hard, and i tackled the hardest hills ive ever seen. Not in length, but in grades so steep you can barely peddal even using the granny gear. The weather was nice, but as i approached the coast and bombed down some massive hills out of the mountains, i quickly learned of the heat that the coastal zone holds. I did make the beach and found a nice camp spot right on the sand. The sunset was epic, but the souds of the road and the waves made sleep hard that night.

The road on the coast is mainly flat which makes cruising pretty easy, but the heat is almost unbearable. I passed through the tourist mecca of Jaco which is a pretty grim scene full of highrise hotels, atv rentals, prostitutes, and smog. From Jaco i passed the legendary surf beach of Hermosa which hosts an international surf competition every year. With no goal in mind other than to find a beach for the night and to move forward i pushed on in the blazing sun towards Quepos. The road south of there is not paved and it a giant washboard of a road, so in an attempt to save my body and bike the misery i hitched a ride. Within 5 minutes my bike was on the roof of a car driven by two gringos who own land down here. Nice guys i guess, they bought me lunch, but after a couple hours with them i realized that to costa ricans, most americans must look like complete assholes. On the ride to Dominical, where the pavement picks up again, they told me all about the escapades of buying up land here and building luxury houses and how they find themselves being robbed all the time... no shit i thought. There are parts of the coast here that have far more FOR SALE signs than there are people. The whole coast of this country is for sale.

I decided to stay in Dominical for a couple of days. It is definitely a tourist spot for both gringos and ticos (costa ricans) alike. The camping on the beach is free and i paid a small sum to a bar to hold my bags and bike for me. I was the only gringo camped on the beach, and i joined a really nice family for my first night there. We enjoyed dinner together and lots of good laughs. The surf at Dominical is huge and there are lots of really good surfers to watch from the beach. I swam constantly and enjoyed cold beer.

My new years was broken into two parts. The first involved beer and a redneck from north florida. You know you are in for a hell of a time when a shirtless sunburnt redneck throws his arm around you and in slurred speech full of spittle yells into your ear, "itth gonna be a longg night ma man, right!" He's a local down there actually and not a tourist. I ditched him as soon as possible and made a new friend somewhere at sometime. Andrew was an older guy, maybe 45, an artist who is living in San Jose, but is a world traveller. We spent the remainder of the night watching shooting stars on the beach using our bottle of rum as a micophone as we spat philosophy into the morning. It was a great night, and it made my departure the next morning a little slow.

I did make it out of Dominical alive though and i peddaled along a gorgeous stretch of coast line full of amazing ceviche stands and tropical beaches. I rode about 65km into the town of Palmares where i found a great spot to sleep at the house of a bike mechanic and his family. I have become really good at showing up at peoples door and using the line, "Hi, I'm travelling on my bicycle and it is getting late. Do you know of any good camp spots around here?" The gate opens up and there is usually a plate of food in front of me within ten minutes. This family was great, and I had a great time talking bikes, travels, the US, and a lot more and watching horror movies. I left that morning with about 100km to go until the border of Panama.

Border crossings can either be really easy or really hard. This one was a pain in the ass. It is in a large duty free zone so people from both sides of the border flock there to shop. It it hot, crowded and the lines to get through customs can be long. I made it through to Panama though and was surprised to find a four lane highway with huge smooth shoulders. The traffic however is heavier and faster and drivers seem to be less courteous. In fact, as soon as i crossed the border i felt imediately a different vibe from costa rica. The people seemed much less friendly. I tried to find a place to camp but the roadsides were basically all massive cattle farms. It was getting dark, i had already ridden about 120km, and nobody would let me camp at there place. I was getting a little desperate until finally, right before dark i met two people on the street and pulled my usual line, this time with a little more desperation. 10 seconds later one of the men named Edgar says oh i have a big house with an extra room you can come stay with me. Putting aside any worry that this guy was about the kill we walked down the dark dirt roads until we reached his concrete shack where he did infact have an extra room for me with a US army issue cot included! We had giant plates of rice and garlic and some tea with sugar cane for desert. He is a dairy farmer who owns three houses but lives in complete poverty. His hospitality was incredible and it came at the most crucial moment.

I rode the last 30km to the Panama's second largest city, David, through a really crazy stretch of road with no shoulder, lots of traffic, and just when i could not get any more flustered, my ipod flew off my bike t(sometimes in situations like that i need some pumping music to keep a raging pace, necessary in traffic like that). It landed in the middle of the lane and i saw the traffic coming. It was one of those -- oh no oh no oh no-- moments but i knew better than to run into traffic to get it. The big SUV just nicked it, only a little bit on the corner, and it still works! I couldnt believe it. Panama has me a little stressed out... Im staying now at a hostel in the suburbs of the city and tomorrow im going to leave my bike here and head north into the highlands to get away from traffic and the heat.

I have heard that the road to Panama City, about 500km from here, is more of the same which has me a little peeved. There's a possibilty that i might take my bike onto a bus and just get to the city. I plan on staying there for about a week, pending on finding a free place to stay, and finding a boat down to columbia. I am having a great time, better than i was, and am looking forward to the next legs of the journey, specifically Colombia. I'll be there before long and the trip should take on a different feel.