The Southern Highlands

Since my last post I have travelled some 600 km and I am now in  the southern Highlands of Ecuador. This section has been far more enjoyable than the northern roads as the wide angry roads have devolved into nice peaceful winding routes where I am passed a handful of times an hour rather than sucking in nothing but the fumes of lazy road users all day long. The only upside to such heavy traffic is that now and then a really slow heavily loaded old truck will pass me slow enough that I can grab on and cheat my way up for a km or 2 before my arm dies. Once a police motorbike stopped for a chat and then offered to pull me a ways up a hill. 

Nariz de diablo

A few hundred kilometres south of Latacunga I stopped in a beautiful town nestled on one the side of a deep valley named Alausi.  The 50km before arriving in this town was beautiful riding, the landscape changed as I entered high mountain pastures and rolling hills leading to about 20km of gentle downhill cruising through a valley until reaching a final 10km of thrilling descent where I beat my speed record and hit 83.7km an hour. Alausi is home to a section of train track named the Nariz de diablo (nose of the devil) It claims to be one of the most difficult sections of railway engineering ever constructed, claiming the most lives in its creation. The route switchbacks down the side of a mountain to the valley floor and is quite an impressive feat.

After taking this short train ride in the morning I set out for an afternoons riding to see how far I could get. The whole afternoon I was almost entirely engulfed in cloud, it gave a mysterious eerie feeling to the day as I would have no clue what I was in for, would I be climbing for another 10km or am I about to reach a summit. Small villages would appear out of nowhere 10 feet in front of me, the weather made everything seem strange. at one point I heard some voices and out of nowhere in seemingly in the middle of nowhere I passed a group of men stood stoically around the scene of a cockfight. I somehow enjoyed this eeriness as it heightened the sense that I was on an adventure. A motorcycle tourist passed me, in my field of vision for no more than 20 metres, he waved and then he was gone, at the top of the hill he appeared again waiting with a cup of hot coffee,  a guy from London travelling around the world on his motorbike, a strange encounter meeting someone so close to home in the middle of a cloud in the Andes. I rode another few hours and unable to find any flat land to camp on I asked at a house I passed if I could camp in their garden, an old man obliged and though a man of few words I think he was happy to host me.

Sergio my stoic host

The next day started without a cloud in the sky and I finally could see where I had been cycling the previous day, it was quite beautiful but the clouds soon rolled in again and I was once more engulfed in nothingness. It seemed I was climbing all morning and was exhausted when I finally arrived at a town I set in the small central park and watched the awkward flirting of a group of boys and a group of girls sat on opposite sides of the park, it was quite entertaining and brought me back to memories of being a young teenager and the naïve awkwardness of everything which continued to entertain me once back on the road. Going down a steep hill I hit a huge earthquake default goint at quite a pace by some miracle I stayed on the bike as my back wheel and all my baggage was flung into the air. I heard a crack and my rack had snapped in two places, I walked to a suitable place and attempted to hitch a ride to Cuenca. Before long a truck stopped for me heading to Cuenca, a young family going to visit grandparents in the city, I spend the next hour answering a torrent of questions about my trip and receiving kicks in the back from kids fighting pretty much on top of me but saying that I was incredibly grateful for the ride and they were lovely people.

Snap

I stayed several days in Cuenca in order to fix the rack and to make some other adjustments to my bike adding some more bottle cages on the front forks in preparation for the desert in Peru, I arrived Saturday evening and nothing would be open until Monday so I used the opportunity to take a few Spanish lessons and chill out a few days. I found a cheap room in a cheap hotel with an average of only 2 police call outs per day, they came to sort out domestic disturbances or to deal with guests sniffing glue and stumbling around making a mess or similar incidents, it was an amusing place to stay I could practice my Spanish in the mornings by trying to decipher the angry screams of a heated argument occurring in the next room. I found a microbrewery in town and enjoyed the first real beer I have encountered in Ecuador, meeting with some locals I enjoyed the night life and made some new friends.

From Cuenca to Loja it was a 3 day trip The road changed to a concrete narrow 2 lane affair with very little traffic, I enjoyed the ride immensely though going from valley floor to mountain pass several times each day it was exhausting and I could only hack 5 or 6 hours riding per day before seeking out a place to camp, which was not too hard a task as the landscape was less dramatic and I had my pick of fields and little sections of forest to sneak off the road into and get some rest. 

camp in the woods

 From Loja to Vilcabamba which is where I am writing from was a short day only 40km so I made the most of my room and stayed until 11 enjoying a lay in and a decent breakfast. It was a beautiful ride with some very short steep climbs and some very long winding descents on empty roads in a lush green valley with stunning views. Vilcabamba is a stop on the gringo trail and is well known for being the valley of longevity, with cases of people living up to 140 years old. Nowadays it just seems like another popular tourist town with lots of swanky resorts and vegan restaurants. There is a large population of American and European expats and retirees living here presumably in the hope of discovering the secret to a longer life. I have found a spot to pitch my tent and will stay here for a few days exploring the valley before attempting the isolated road to the Peruvian border which is mainly a dirt track its quite possible I will be pushing my bike through thick mud for a while but I am told the views are well worth the risk.

Back on the Road

  The farm to Quito - 110km

Quito from above

I had been dreading this ride for a while as I knew there was a lot of climbing after taking a bus to Quito a few weeks ago.  Still feeling the dregs of a hangover from New Year’s Eve I woke up at silly o clock in the morning to get an early start, Realised that the dogs had eaten one of my shoes, luckily I had been given a second pair a few weeks ago so it wasn’t to tragic, as long as they enjoyed it I’m happy. It was great to set off so early, I had a good few hours of cool weather before the sun showed up. The First 50 km was pretty much all uphill, a long slow climb that seemed to go on for ever.   I was feeling the effects of eating too much and drinking too much and not cycling over the past weeks but chugging on all the same. There was a nice section of downhill for about 15km until the road cut through the side of the mountain range with some ups and some downs until just outside Quito where there was a serious climb, I could see ahead of me an endless series of switchbacks and was not looking forward to it. I stopped for a drink and a police truck pulled up, he asked me if I was ok and I took my chance, I told him I had a problem with my bike and was looking for a ride up to Quito He told me he was heading about 5 km up to a pay toll and could give me a ride. Didn’t help me out too much but it was cool to ride in a police truck. Nearing the top of the hill I realised that Quito was about 40 km long and so I’ve heard terrible for cyclists, I wanted to get to the centre so I decided to try to hitch a ride as I didn’t fancy battling through 20km of smog and traffic, plus I was exhausted. Within about 2 minutes a pickup stopped for me, a guy who worked at the airport which happened to be only a few km from the centre of town, which is a ridiculous place to put an airport he told me of four occasions when a plane had over run the landing and caused carnage in the centre of the city.

middle of the world

I found a cheap hostel and was asleep before 9. Spent a day in Quito seeing the sights which were few, its basically just a huge city in the mountains second highest city in the world at 2850m. I took a gondola up the volcano Pinchincha which felt horrible without skies on my feet but the view was quite impressive, a sprawling city never more than 3 or 4 km wide but about 40 km long . Quito also boasts the centre of the world, a monument that lies on the equator with museums and cool interactive experiments to prove than you are in fact on the equator unfortunately by the time I arrived all the museums were closed so I paid $2 just to see a huge Statue that read - latitude 00.

Quito to Latacunga 95km

A long slow dismal climb out of the city on narrow roads with boisterous trams, it was nasty for the first 20 km I felt very uncertain on my survival, If I didn’t get killed by a bus then I would surely collapse from carbon monoxide poisoning. After a very unpleasant few hours the city began to leave me alone and I was on the open road again with a nice wide shoulder just for me to play in. the rest of the day was better but not great, a gradually climbing 40km without much of a view, I knew I was in the midst of the great volcano Cotapaxi but there were a gang of mischievous clouds loitering about its base obstructing my view. After this climb the road lead gently downhill all the way to Latacunga, this was rather pleasant. Latacunga didn’t look like much more than a dirty stopover from the Pan-American but as I crossed the bridge to the centre I was surprised to find a beautiful old colonial town centre with cobbled roads and very interesting architecture, after circling the narrow and confusing one way system the wrong way and pissing off all the motorists I found a nice hostel in a stunning old 19^th century abode, enjoyed a hot shower and cooked some hot food.

Latacunga to Quilotoa - 80km

Today I took a trip off the Pan-American up to a mountain village named Quilotoa home to  ‘Laguna Quilotoa’ a crater lake of awe inspiring beauty formed by a massive volcanic eruption and the subsequent collapse of the volcano some 800 years ago. The crater is 2 miles wide and 250 metres deep. To get there I had to climb from around 2400 metres to a whopping 3800 metres in a distance of 80 km though most of the elevation was gained in the first 40km. This was at once the most challenging and most beautiful ride of my trip. The first 40km steadily climbed out of the valley with increasingly impressive views though Cotopaxi was still obstructed by those malevolent clouds. But once I reached the pass and flew down in to the next valley the views were really quite stunning. I crossed a further valley including another brutal climb and a whooping descent until I arrived at the town of Zumbahua by which time I was starving as I had been expecting a town in the previous valley but it turned out to by not much more than a handful of farms and didn’t see anything resembling a restaurant. In Zumbahua there seemed to be some kind of parade going on, I passed locals dressed in ridiculously bright coloured costumes some riding horses also dressed in ridiculously bright coloured costumes dancing and prancing down the road, I grabbed a pretty unappetizing lunch amidst the mess of the mornings market which seemed to be coming to an end, scattered skulls of assorted animals strewn across the floor along with other litter and some very happy dogs cleaning everything edible up. As the parade entered the market place a band was playing and everybody seemed to be getting drunk, there were men in tiger masks walking about like john Cleese in the ministry of silly walks sketch and stealing things from the market stools. The owners of the markets seem to take this as something that happens but looked pissed off all the same.

an example of the hideous views i had to look at

  After watching the antics a while and letting my lunch settle I set of the final 12 km up to Quilotoa. This road was a minor one, empty and a pleasure to ride. The road cruised through wide open rolling mountain farmland with excellent views of the peaks around. I thoroughly enjoyed the first 7km except for the dogs, it seems that the little villages I passed were solely home to dogs, I hardly saw a human being. These dogs were either over protective of their land or just bored and felt it necessary to chase me down in gangs and yap at my heels. Not something I have been unfamiliar with on this trip but today it happened every few hundred metres and became quite annoying. The road started climbing and quite aggressively, at an altitude of nearly 4000m I slowed to a snail’s pace and had to take regular breaks to try and suck in enough oxygen to make my body work properly. I finally arrived and was not disappointed, the lake was stunning, drawn in by its beauty I decided to stash my bike, pull out the old backpack and hike down into the crater to camp for the night. One of the most incredible places I have ever passed a night, the stars came out for a while and I serenaded myself to sleep with my ukulele by a camp fire and felt content with my day.

After a nice 12 hour sleep I woke and rented a kayak and went out on the lake. It was cool to think that if I had been in the same spot 800 years ago I would be at the top of a volcano and could be blown into oblivion at any moment.  I spent the rest of the day enjoying the scenery and resting my bones. Quilotoa is a sleepy town of only a few hundred indiginous residents, the main language between the locals here is Quechua which confused me when I first arrived; I wondered why I couldn’t understand a

 word being said. But the people were warm and welcoming.

Lake Quilotoa

Quilotoa to Latacunga - 80km

This trip back down was not as enjoyable as I had anticipated. I still had to cross two valleys and there were a few fairly big climbs, it  would have been a breeze if it hadn’t been for the wind (excuse the pun) The wind felt the need to bitch slap me in the face the whole way down. On the uphill sections I was fighting hard to hit 5km an hour ,without wind I would be doing at least 9, at one point a huge gust came along and stopped me dead. Almost fell of the bike. The 40 km of downhill I had been looking forward to was kind of sketchy, I was thrown around like a rag doll, when the wind hit me face on I almost had to pedal to move at all on a slope that gravity would normally permit me to fly down at 60km an hour. It was rather frustrating to say the least but it’s all part of the fun (in hindsight anyway)

Quilotoa on the edge of the crater

How to build a sack house

How to build a Sack house

I have been Lying dormant over the past month or so in a Farm in Northern Ecuador, enjoying the festive period with excessive consumption of just about everything. I was staying on a farm belonging to a beautiful man from the states. Primarily a chicken farm but he also had recently build a funky homemade smoker and was doing a lot of smoked meats and some specialty cured meats. It was for this reason that we set out to build a cellar to store the dead stuff. We wanted to build something cheaply with easily obtainable resources and as naturally as possible, after about 10 minutes of brain storming we came upon the idea of an earth bag house as there was plenty of sacks that had been used to export the chicken manure and obviously it wasn’t hard to find earth. There was lots of eucalyptus growing on the property which grows nice and straight and is terrible for the soil so best thing to do was to chop it down and use it for the roof. Five minutes of research and we knew what we were doing and started the next day.

We enlisted the help of a neighbour with a tractor to excavate an area and in the process obtained a huge pile of earth for the build. For the foundations we just dug out a trench in our desired dimensions so that we have a few layers of sacks under the ground. Its an incredibly strong way of building and is used in earthquake prone areas because it is gives a building a lot of flexibility and resilience.  Drainage was not a big problem because of the sand content of the soil, it was pretty much 100% sand.

To make each sack we filled them half way with earth and then, with a very snazzy hald held sewing machine, folded over the ends and zipped them closed.

There happened to be a door frame in the shed which we put in place and laid sacks around, to hold it in place we welded a bolt to a piece of rebar, the rebar was laid along the length of the wall at 2 points, and the bolt into the door frame, with the weight of nearly a million sacks it won’t be going anywhere.

Then we just laid a crap load of sacks. In between each layer of sacks we laid down two rows of barbed wire which acts as an adhesive and holds the structure together. 

After 5 or 6 layers we realised we ought to do the floor before the walls got too high.

For the floor we levelled out the area and using rocks from excavating the land painstakingly laid them one by one and bashed them in place to give a solid base for the adobe mix. We cheated a little on the adobe and used 5 to 10% cement mixed with 90% earth (with a slightly higher clay content than just sand)  Mixing each batch in a small rusty old wheelbarrow it took a while to fill it in but we got there in the end.

Then we sacked some more until we reached about 5 foot, from hear we built up the two ends into peaks to support the roof. Above the door frame we simply placed a plank of timber to bridge the gap and laid sacks on top of that.

the final sack

 Also lying around the farm was a bunch of really beefy timber and some brittle and cracked roofing panels, most of them broken from being trodden on by cows, which we sorted through and buit this stunning looking roof.

The sacks deteriorate quickly in the sun so we backfilled most of the walls which I forgot to take a picture of and will abobe the remaining exposed sections of the sack wall once the backfilled earth has settled (adobe is mud plaster mixed with a binding element, we will use rice hulls as there is an abundance of them on the farm)

 

 All together this build cost only a couple of hundred dollars we used mostly materials that were already on site and it was incredibly simple.

The Andes

The Andes,

salento

After a weekend of resting my bones from cycling and using them for heavy farm work instead I left Salento in the same state I arrived but met many great people in the process and enjoyed the few days I spent in the Hostel. The volunteer quarters were home to some local artists, a lovely young couple who sold their art every week in the town.  There was a very chilled atmosphere at that place which I thoroughly enjoyed. I left to return to Calarca ,a very short afternoon of cycling through an empty back road, and take up the offer from my amigo Nando of a tour round Quindio district, the zona Cafeteria (the place where they do coffee and stuff). The next day we left for the tour, Beautiful empty country roads and a vista of rolling hills and coffee plantations. It was a great day up until we were about 40km short of arriving back at Nandos place. We got caught in one of the worst rain falls I can remember, the problem was that the last 40km were pretty much all downhill and it didn’t take long to discover that my brakes didn’t exactly do their job in the wet, that combined with the fact that the rain was so heavy we could hardly see anything for water in our eyes made a rather uncomfortable ride. We stopped in Armenia in a bike shop where I changed my brake pads for some all-weather ones and waited a while for the rain to stop (which it didn’t) in a state close to hyperthermia. But the climb back home warmed us up again despite the rain.

a quick bath on the side of the road

The next day was great, I set off early after being fed a ridiculously heavy breakfast and the day was pretty much all downhill, 110km. On the way I met another cycle tourist going the other way, there was a strip of  in between the two lanes so we stopped for an Exchange, he was coming from Chile, had a great rig which he had bodged together, using big oil containers for his front  panniers, cutting the tops off for lids. He was a juggler and tried to earn a bit of money here and there by busking at traffic lights, He had 6 clubs so we attempted to do some club passing in the middle of the road, I was a bit rusty so we were not good enough to impress anyone but it was a fun encounter none the less.

I arrived in a place called Buga, a very religious city with more churches then people I think, I treated myself to a hostel as my body had been complaining a lot that day, and was very glad I had made that decision because by pure chance I met another cyclist, who had come to the hostel just for a beer and some pizza, a French guy doing the whole hog right from Alaska down to Patagonia. Drank some beers, swapped some stories and planned to meet the next morning and continue on together, we have been travelling together for the past 4 days.

We had a short day from Buga to Cali only 50km or so and made big plans for the night, to discover the Salsa scene in Cali, we scoured the city for the cheapest hostel without finding anything cheaper than the first place we looked, but had a nice tour of the place in the process, after cooking an enormous pasta dinner in preparation for the next day which probably doubled my weight we both fell into food comers and our plans were over.

stole some bricks for the hell of it.

Our plans for an early start failed and we didn’t leave the city until almost 10 due to roadwork’s blocking the main route south which we meant we had to negotiate the backstreets as if trying to exit a ginormous maze. The day started off easy but become more physical as we began entering the andes.  But cycling is certainly more enjoyable with some company, toward the end of the day we were climbing a fair bit and began trying to catch the big lorries and steal from free kilometres, it was very fun and we have decided that its not cheating became its almost as difficult to keep hold of the trucks with all our weight than it is to pedal, but it ended in tears when Simon got to big for his boots and tried to grab one going a little bit too fast with tired arms and lost control, he was sent down and got some nasty grazes but incredibly lucky not to be hurt more than that. We stopped to tend to his injuries and ate some dinner at a roadside restaurant but Night time approached and were we still 15km of climbing away from a town so we started looking for a place to camp. After asking at a military base they declined us on the grounds that it was very dangerous (we are travelling a region of conflict with the FARC guerrillas), which we couldn’t really understand as there must have been 25 armed military to protect us. I guess they didn’t have much faith in themselves. We climbed another 2 km and spotted a nice looking farm up on the hill, I went to ask permission to camp on their land and after being very cautious of  at first they offered us an empty outhouse to camp out in, which was much appreciated as it rained most of the night. The old lady there was lovely and gave us a tour of their small coffee farm and talked lots about many things that neither of us really understood but it was very interesting none the less. We got off to an early start mainly thanks to the chicken house behind us housing a gang of very persistent cockerels who started their cock a doodle doing way before sunrise. We were very kindly treated to some breakfast and sent on our way.

the coffee factory

  we arrived in Popayan, it was great, all the roads were closed for cars and for some reason there were groups of people on the side of the road clapping and cheering and giving us support. We soon realised when 50 spandexed cyclists passed us at speeds so fast they were barely visible to the human eye that we had arrived during a national cycling race. We had lunch in Popayan which incidentally was a beautiful city; In the centre every building was as white as the average American supermodels front teeth. We also enjoyed the excessive amount of applause as we explored the city apparently full to the brim with budding cycling enthusiasts, it made us feel real special.

The afternoon was difficult, lots of climbing and the roads were as wholly as Swiss cheese. We finished the day with a very steep 8km climb up to a town called Rosas which unfortunately didn’t reflect the beauty of its name, it was a bit of a dump, we found a hospedaje (a cheap motel) for about £2 each, ate, and then I for one slept like little baby. These past few days I have noticed my body adapting to the task at hand, as if it’s coming to terms with what I am making it do and starting to give up complaining and just get on with it. Hills are becoming easier and I am starting not to notice the weight so much, saying that it has been far from easy, just slightly easier than it was at the start.

The next day started perfectly, 15km of downhill with a view that was so beautiful that it stole way to much of my attention and almost sent me flying in to the abyss. Followed by a short 6km steep climb, the rest of the day was pretty flat so we planned to smash some kilometres but by midday our flow was disrupted by a flat tyre on my back wheel, which was followed 200 metres later by another and then the realisation that my back tyre had worn itself a massive whole after only doing its job for 3 weeks (that’s what you get for spending £3 on a tyre) luckily I bought a spare in Popayan the previous day so changed it over, another 100 meters later  and my tyre was flat again, crappy glue patches I think, so I chucked on a fresh tube and that was enough to satisfy the greedy thing. Needless to say this ate us a good part of the afternoon. We arrived late afternoon is a town consisting of not much more than a gas station and a restaurant and decided to by some food and some beer and find a spot to camp. As we were organising our evening in the one store in town a guy rocked up on a fully loaded royal Enfield, with a ton of character.  A very British man named Harry with a British accent that made me sound American he was on a round the world trip trying to run his diesel engine on veg oil but apparently not having a whole load of success, he was on his fourth engine of the trip, It seems the veg oil isn’t great for the health of the engine. We invited him to join us in our camp in the field behind the hotel for a beer and swapped stories of our travels. He spent the night sat in a field next to some cow shit after paying for a nice comfortable room but it’s the company that counts.

camp

Robertos reserve

That brings us to today, Today we really started climbing, this morning I think we started around 500m and are now at about 2300m. The heat this morning was unbearable it must have been in the mid thirtys but as we started to climb higher and higher the climate started to change with the altitude, After having climbed about 50km a beaten up old jeep stopped and a friendly looking old man offered for us to stay at his ecological reserve located another 80km up the road, We knew that it would not be possible to get that far so he offered us a lift, which we quickly accepted due to the heat which by that time was started to wear me down as well as causing rust to form on my bike from the constant stream of sweat that was running off my nose. A lovely old man, Roberto, we somehow crammed ourselves along with our bikes and gear into the little jeep and enjoyed a very easy and comfortable 80km climb, this brought us up to 2300m where the climate is far more manageable. The views as we drove up the valley were stunning; we are well and truly in the Andes now, Roberto stopped at a few viewpoints to give us some lessons in geography, explained the lay of the land, how it was formed, and when, which I almost understood with my desperate but ever improving grasp of Spanish . I am writing to you now from Roberto’s reserve it is a research centre for reforestation and as far as I understand at the moment he is working on repopulating the forest with orchids. He dropped us here, told us to feel at home and left, so we have the use of this amazing place at our disposal, a kitchen full of food, warm beds and electricity. The extent of human kindness I have experienced on this trip so far has been really touching, we are now only a day away from the Ecuadorian border. 

La Linea

06/11/2012

After stalling for way to long in Ibague I had myself a rather late day of cycling, From Ibague to Calamarca was only 31km and several people had told me that the road doesn’t start to climb until after Calarmarca so I wasn’t too worried about the afternoon and I set off from a prolonged lunch in Ibague at about 3, leaving the city was a hell of a climb and it didn’t get much better from there if that terrain was flat in the eyes of the locals I had asked I was incredibly worried about ‘la linea ‘ of which I have been told by numerous people is almost vertical. As the afternoon passed the km’s were passing at an incredibly slow pace and I was becoming very tired, exacerbated by  the heat, I was in first gear working hard and climbing the whole way, I didn’t arrive in Calamarca until almost 7pm  way after dark, the small decent into the town was quite scary with my rather inferior headlight, I arrived in a state of absolute exhaustion, due to the late hour and my state of being I cut myself some slack and found a cheap hotel, It was actually quite nice for the price which would convert to about £6. Dinner that night tasted amazing, the cold beer I had been thinking about all afternoon tasted like a gift from heaven.

07/11/2012

La linear, this was one of the most physical days I can remember, 30km of climbing at gradient of ridiculous,  up to an altitude of over 4000 metres, In some parts it was almost impossible to pedal with all the weight, even in my easiest gear. It took me all morning to reach the top. I must admit I cheated a few kilometres, Near the bottom of the climb as I was putting some serious effort into each meter a big truck passed me with a young kid skitching behind it grinning at me as if to say “why the hell are climbing when you can just grab onto a truck and get to the top for free” I kept climbing with the intention of trying to grab the next truck to pass, but nothing passed me for an hour or so. I came to a spot where for hundred meters or so the terrain was flat, giving me the ability to gain the same speed as a truck if one were to pass, I waited about 10 minutes until I heard the low rumble of a heavy vehicle and took my chance, pedalled like a maniac to catch it but got a good hold and after feeling a bit sketchy to start with got used to the balance and gained myself some free kilometres until my left arm was almost dead at which point I had to let it go. Another chance a bit further up at a stop sign for some work on the road I took another opportunity and grabbed another truck, the driver saw me and was quite happy to help, I found out later that I just needed to signal the driver and he would slow down enough for me to grab on but I could only last a few kilometres at a time until my arm was done, I had a lot of weight to pull. The last 5 kilometres were the worst, incredibly step, I had to walk a few kilometres because my saddle and my arse were not getting along very well. And when I did pedal I was maxing out at 5km an hour the exact same pace as I was walking. As the top approached a real sense of relief hit me as I realised that It meant 30 km of sweet sweet downhill. On the decent I swear my breaks were smoking and I was still going at 50km an hour, if I let gravity take me it felt as if I would reach terminal velocity. Awesome. Arrived within half an hour in Calarca and ate. As I was debating whether to climb another 30 km to the town I wanted to stay, Salento, I met a fellow cyclist Fernando who after chatting a while invited me to stay with him and offered a hot shower and a professional cooked meal (he was a chef) I accepted without a thought. He had a beautiful house and owned a hotel and restaurant, with pool and all.  I spent the night in luxury and good company thanks to his kindness. He offered to take me on a guided cycle tour of the area Quindo which is a very famous coffee region when I pass by his place again in a few days after returning from Salento. Salento is a little north of my route but I’m told it’s a beautiful town and well worth a visit.

08/09/2012  

After feeding me a nice big breakfast this morning Fernando accompanied me, with his empty touring trailer in tow, a few kilometres to the end of town and the turning for Salento. I felt great today, it was an easy day, only 30km of climbing but it felt very easy after yesterday’s gradient, my spirits were high after a beautiful long comfortable rest last night. At one point I even wondered if I had left a bunch of my things behind as pedalling felt so easy. The route was beautiful especially the final 10 km, 6km of descending an empty, very peaceful, winding road with a spectacular view and 4 km of climbing up the other side of the valley. The weather was good and I felt as if this trip might have been a good idea after all. I am writing to you now from Salento, I found a beautiful hostel/campsite and I will stay here for free for a few days in return for a few hours of work each day. 

Pedalling!

2/11/2012

My wonderful hosts

Last Friday after a late night of dancing salsa and 4 hours sleep, I finally left my nice comfortable room in the city, packed everything I own on my bike and hit the road. It was the first time I had sat on the thing fully loaded and as I pointed myself down the road and waved goodbye to my house mates I must have looked like i had never used a bike before, It took a km or two of feeling like Bambi before I got used to the weight and balance of the thing. I dont know or want to know how much it weighs, a lot is about as concise a measurement as i can give. Leaving Bogota was less than pleasant, If the city was a living organism i think i would have been exiting from its arse, but once i had left the city it was a great ride . Luckily for me this first leg Bogota to Anapoima was pretty much all down hill, of the 87km I'm guessing only about 20 were climbing. there was a stretch of about 40km downhill in one hit, A taste of the good times to come without having to experience the pain of 40km of uphill first. In Anapoima I spent a great few days with a friend of mine Laura from Bogota at here family house, Her Mother and Aunt were way to kind, they treated my like a king and fed me nonstop for which |I am truly grateful.

Laura and I

05/11/2012
The second day on the bike was not as pleasant as the first, but still relatively straight forward. Started of with a rainstorm, an opportunity to test how waterproof my stuff is, and was very refreshing as the normal climate in Anapoima is way to hot for me. The route was fairly flat, with rolling hills. I met another cyclist and we chatted for a while on the road, later I passed his house and I was invited in for a cold drink. After 90km I was exhausted  At a small town named Gualanday I attempted to find a place to camp but there wasn't a place i felt safe leaving my stuff because the police told me I would get robbed, didn't feel like climbing the hill out of the town so I took up an offer from a nice guy named Jimmy at a restaurant who offered that I could camp in his back garden, Little did i realise that i would be spending the night with a nice family of squealing pigs and a very timid dog who spend alot of time barking at me but ran away every time i so much as flinched. To be honest despite the less the fresh air and the less than harmonious chatter of the pigs i was so tired I actually slept pretty well.

hotel

my piggy friends

                     




I am writing to you from the city of Ibague where i am stalling time and resting my backside (my ridiculously small saddle does a good job of preventing chaffing but its far from comfortable).before commencing the 87km of uphill climbing I have ahead of me.