Hey all, you might remember me from my first bike tour in Canada or the US leg... After cycling south-east across Turtle Island, i bought a cheap plane ticket on a whim and flew from Miami to Panama City. I didn't really have much plans other than to learn Spanish and perhaps join a crew on a sailboat. That latter part of the plan fizzled when i discovered that a lot of so-called cruisers just hang out in the same place for months at a time, which isn't interesting to me, but i did end up learning Spanish to a degree i felt comfortable traveling solo outside of major tourist destinations.
I won't talk much about Panama because i mostly spent my time in cheap (<$25) hotels and hostels, and took buses around from town to town - nothing different from regular backpacking lifestyle. The country is quite pleasant and very easy to navigate if you came from the US because US dollar is legal tender, tons of US products are available in the shops, and US cuisine is all over the place. I found it frustrating to get to interesting areas, however, because the country has a very strong car culture. Very few people walk, and even fewer cycle. It feels like the best way to get around is to flag down cheap minibuses and jump out at the next town or village... but that takes you past all the jungle and wilderness and national parks that actually might be cool to visit, if you like the countryside. I mostly refused to take taxis because i don't like increasing a society's car-dependence, but that really limited the places i could go. It reminded me a lot of Namibia, in that sense.
Anyway, after a few months i got another cheap flight to Cartagena, in Colombia. I spent 2 nights there and immediately left town because i fucking hated it. It was massively touristy and everywhere i went i had people trying to get me to buy some tour or some trinkets or shit. I guess there are some old buildings there that might be interesting, but i don't care about that stuff - i lived in Europe for years... Seen one old town, you seen them all, imo. So i took the bus to Barranquilla - the next big town over - and started my next bike trip.
Barranquilla is an industrial city that has pretty much nothing to attract tourists. Which meant that it just felt like a normal, ordinary town where i could relax. It is situated at the mouth of the Rio Magdalena, which is the biggest river in Colombia. Of course the first thing i did was go out to see the river, which is out past some industrial districts.
It's quite a hike in the hot weather, so i rented a bike and took it all the way up to the very end of the breakwater that stretches 5km out to sea.
Along the breakwater there are people who have built settlements and they live out there, on the end of a path that gets increasingly rugged, until the point where it is just boulders rising out of the sea. (I had to put the bike on my shoulder and carry it the last km or so.) Some of them sell beer and fish to any tourist brave enough to hike up to the end, but most are just living their lives in shacks made of wood and corrugated iron, palm fronds and canvas. There is no electricity or plumbing. One guy up there introduced himself to me and showed me his contraption for fishing further out to sea, by attaching the line to a kite. I followed a horse-and-cart back down the path and resolved to bike a bit further the next day.
Next day i headed out to the beachside cliffs in the nearby town of Salgar.
I had to pass a police checkpoint along the way... They seem to set them up from time to time, and often they check the IDs of passing motorists, but as a cyclist i have never been bothered. Another thing you'll find here (and in parts of Panama too) are locals who get dressed up in costumes and dance and drum on the side of the road, sometimes blocking traffic completely, in order to try get a donation. Once again, if you are on a bike, these guys pretty much ignore you. I guess they (rightfully) figure you don't have any extra money or shit worth stealing.
For the rest, riding in Colombia hasn't been too much different to riding in the US or Canada. Cars definitely drive more aggressively, and the vehicles belch a lot more smoke which is not fun to breathe... But the drivers seem to be more conscious of cyclists, because there are actually a reasonable amount of slow-moving vehicles on the roads - cyclists, streets vendors, horse-and-carts... Although, to be clear, these aren't cyclists like you'll see in the US. Most are kids with a large crate strapped on the back of their bike transporting produce from their fishing hole or farm to the village and back. Closer to town you will find trikes offering rides. Needless to say, the car (and motorbike) culture is very entrenched here too, but it feels like there is at least some level of cycling culture that exists alongside it, and that's what gave me the confidence to go fuck it, i'm buying a bike.
Some of you have asked how much you need to spend on a bike to get it ready for touring. Well this setup cost me under $250. The bike was around $200, and the panniers were $50. All brand new. The bike is a Buffalo Charger, which is a slightly modified version of the Buffalo Bicycle, which is distributed to rural communities in Colombia and sub-Saharan Africa by World Bicycle Relief. The bikes are steel and hardy as fuck, designed to clatter across dirt roads from farm to village in rural Africa. There is no quick release anything, no lightweight gimmicks, everything is simple and fixable by anyone with a couple of basic tools. They also sell bikes to the general public, including this Charger model which has 6 gears instead of being a fixie like the model used in the plains and savanna. Most importantly for me, the bike comes with a rack and a lock and all the tools you need to dismantle and fix it.
Now, i gotta say, it is a whole different story going from a 15kg bike to a 20kg bike, and going from 24 gears down to 6. I've only climbed a few hills so far, and it is fucking brutal.
The absolute worst. But... take breaks. Persevere. Eventually you still get there. And that's the whole point with bike touring... You don't need to do the Tour de fucking France. You just need to get on the bike and start going. On my first leg i rode about 70km through the desert to a town called Ciénaga.
It was hot as hell and i thought i was going to die. I only had 3L of water with me and the only shade was under a cactus. But i figured only about 40km of that was without any service, and even on that stretch there were plenty of cars passing and the odd fisherman and rural person lounging around in the middle of nowhere. Next day i only went about 30km over the hill to Santa Marta. Yesterday i just did a quick loop over a different hill to a nearby fishing village and tourist epicenter. Because my bike isn't as lightweight, and because i am a little more careful about charging out into the wilderness than i was in a richer country, i have changed my pace. In Canada and the US i was covering 100km a day, sometimes more, and waking up in a new town literally every single day. Here i am just going from town to nearby town, not pushing myself to the limit, and i'm planning to take breaks along the way.
Sunday is an election here in Colombia and the Canadian embassy has warned me not to travel because there may be violence and there likely will be government-imposed travel restrictions and a curfew. This is one of several embassy warnings i have received since arriving here. A previous warning said to stay clear of certain provinces because a paramilitary group had promised a week of action... Sure enough, that week they blew up a bridge in one of the towns that i would have to pass through if i want to do a circle route back from La Guajira. The country is far from a warzone, but there is still violence here and there and that's what i'm trying to get wise enough about that i can avoid it. Something you don't really have to worry about at all in Canada. You gotta read the paper here and chat to the locals about what's happening.
So far for overnighting, i've just been continuing my Panama habit of staying in cheap hotels and hostels. Accommodation is a bit cheaper here than it was in Panama, but you're still going to be out $15-20 if you want to have a private room. Still, that's comparable to paid campsites in the US, so i don't mind it too much. The food here is way cheaper. I'm not yet sure about stealth camping. In the part of the country where i am right now it's basically a desert, so there's not much shelter in the countryside, and in town any of the places you might expect homeless people to sleep, there are already informal settlements there. I'm sure it's totally doable to sleep rough here - there are obviously many local homeless people who do it - but it's not something i am quite ready to risk. Meanwhile i am still lugging around my fucking tent and sleeping bag from the previous bike tour, plus a hammock that i bought here as well for day trips/naps, so that's more damn weight to haul over the hills in 35C/95F temperatures with nary a cloud in the sky. Still got my fucking winter clothes too, although i suppose i'll need them if i ever get up to the Andes. But that's getting way ahead of myself.
Anyway, it's pretty awesome. I don't know how long i will be able to continue, or if i'll just give this up after a couple weeks, but like my other bike tour, i'm just open to heading out and seeing what happens. The important lesson is... bike touring is super easy to translate to another country. No need to get insurance or registration, no need to have a license, no need to deal with any cops or government bodies... Just get a bike, strap your stuff on, and go. Still a great way to travel.
I won't talk much about Panama because i mostly spent my time in cheap (<$25) hotels and hostels, and took buses around from town to town - nothing different from regular backpacking lifestyle. The country is quite pleasant and very easy to navigate if you came from the US because US dollar is legal tender, tons of US products are available in the shops, and US cuisine is all over the place. I found it frustrating to get to interesting areas, however, because the country has a very strong car culture. Very few people walk, and even fewer cycle. It feels like the best way to get around is to flag down cheap minibuses and jump out at the next town or village... but that takes you past all the jungle and wilderness and national parks that actually might be cool to visit, if you like the countryside. I mostly refused to take taxis because i don't like increasing a society's car-dependence, but that really limited the places i could go. It reminded me a lot of Namibia, in that sense.
Anyway, after a few months i got another cheap flight to Cartagena, in Colombia. I spent 2 nights there and immediately left town because i fucking hated it. It was massively touristy and everywhere i went i had people trying to get me to buy some tour or some trinkets or shit. I guess there are some old buildings there that might be interesting, but i don't care about that stuff - i lived in Europe for years... Seen one old town, you seen them all, imo. So i took the bus to Barranquilla - the next big town over - and started my next bike trip.
Barranquilla is an industrial city that has pretty much nothing to attract tourists. Which meant that it just felt like a normal, ordinary town where i could relax. It is situated at the mouth of the Rio Magdalena, which is the biggest river in Colombia. Of course the first thing i did was go out to see the river, which is out past some industrial districts.
It's quite a hike in the hot weather, so i rented a bike and took it all the way up to the very end of the breakwater that stretches 5km out to sea.
Along the breakwater there are people who have built settlements and they live out there, on the end of a path that gets increasingly rugged, until the point where it is just boulders rising out of the sea. (I had to put the bike on my shoulder and carry it the last km or so.) Some of them sell beer and fish to any tourist brave enough to hike up to the end, but most are just living their lives in shacks made of wood and corrugated iron, palm fronds and canvas. There is no electricity or plumbing. One guy up there introduced himself to me and showed me his contraption for fishing further out to sea, by attaching the line to a kite. I followed a horse-and-cart back down the path and resolved to bike a bit further the next day.
Next day i headed out to the beachside cliffs in the nearby town of Salgar.
I had to pass a police checkpoint along the way... They seem to set them up from time to time, and often they check the IDs of passing motorists, but as a cyclist i have never been bothered. Another thing you'll find here (and in parts of Panama too) are locals who get dressed up in costumes and dance and drum on the side of the road, sometimes blocking traffic completely, in order to try get a donation. Once again, if you are on a bike, these guys pretty much ignore you. I guess they (rightfully) figure you don't have any extra money or shit worth stealing.
For the rest, riding in Colombia hasn't been too much different to riding in the US or Canada. Cars definitely drive more aggressively, and the vehicles belch a lot more smoke which is not fun to breathe... But the drivers seem to be more conscious of cyclists, because there are actually a reasonable amount of slow-moving vehicles on the roads - cyclists, streets vendors, horse-and-carts... Although, to be clear, these aren't cyclists like you'll see in the US. Most are kids with a large crate strapped on the back of their bike transporting produce from their fishing hole or farm to the village and back. Closer to town you will find trikes offering rides. Needless to say, the car (and motorbike) culture is very entrenched here too, but it feels like there is at least some level of cycling culture that exists alongside it, and that's what gave me the confidence to go fuck it, i'm buying a bike.
Some of you have asked how much you need to spend on a bike to get it ready for touring. Well this setup cost me under $250. The bike was around $200, and the panniers were $50. All brand new. The bike is a Buffalo Charger, which is a slightly modified version of the Buffalo Bicycle, which is distributed to rural communities in Colombia and sub-Saharan Africa by World Bicycle Relief. The bikes are steel and hardy as fuck, designed to clatter across dirt roads from farm to village in rural Africa. There is no quick release anything, no lightweight gimmicks, everything is simple and fixable by anyone with a couple of basic tools. They also sell bikes to the general public, including this Charger model which has 6 gears instead of being a fixie like the model used in the plains and savanna. Most importantly for me, the bike comes with a rack and a lock and all the tools you need to dismantle and fix it.
Now, i gotta say, it is a whole different story going from a 15kg bike to a 20kg bike, and going from 24 gears down to 6. I've only climbed a few hills so far, and it is fucking brutal.
The absolute worst. But... take breaks. Persevere. Eventually you still get there. And that's the whole point with bike touring... You don't need to do the Tour de fucking France. You just need to get on the bike and start going. On my first leg i rode about 70km through the desert to a town called Ciénaga.
It was hot as hell and i thought i was going to die. I only had 3L of water with me and the only shade was under a cactus. But i figured only about 40km of that was without any service, and even on that stretch there were plenty of cars passing and the odd fisherman and rural person lounging around in the middle of nowhere. Next day i only went about 30km over the hill to Santa Marta. Yesterday i just did a quick loop over a different hill to a nearby fishing village and tourist epicenter. Because my bike isn't as lightweight, and because i am a little more careful about charging out into the wilderness than i was in a richer country, i have changed my pace. In Canada and the US i was covering 100km a day, sometimes more, and waking up in a new town literally every single day. Here i am just going from town to nearby town, not pushing myself to the limit, and i'm planning to take breaks along the way.
Sunday is an election here in Colombia and the Canadian embassy has warned me not to travel because there may be violence and there likely will be government-imposed travel restrictions and a curfew. This is one of several embassy warnings i have received since arriving here. A previous warning said to stay clear of certain provinces because a paramilitary group had promised a week of action... Sure enough, that week they blew up a bridge in one of the towns that i would have to pass through if i want to do a circle route back from La Guajira. The country is far from a warzone, but there is still violence here and there and that's what i'm trying to get wise enough about that i can avoid it. Something you don't really have to worry about at all in Canada. You gotta read the paper here and chat to the locals about what's happening.
So far for overnighting, i've just been continuing my Panama habit of staying in cheap hotels and hostels. Accommodation is a bit cheaper here than it was in Panama, but you're still going to be out $15-20 if you want to have a private room. Still, that's comparable to paid campsites in the US, so i don't mind it too much. The food here is way cheaper. I'm not yet sure about stealth camping. In the part of the country where i am right now it's basically a desert, so there's not much shelter in the countryside, and in town any of the places you might expect homeless people to sleep, there are already informal settlements there. I'm sure it's totally doable to sleep rough here - there are obviously many local homeless people who do it - but it's not something i am quite ready to risk. Meanwhile i am still lugging around my fucking tent and sleeping bag from the previous bike tour, plus a hammock that i bought here as well for day trips/naps, so that's more damn weight to haul over the hills in 35C/95F temperatures with nary a cloud in the sky. Still got my fucking winter clothes too, although i suppose i'll need them if i ever get up to the Andes. But that's getting way ahead of myself.
Anyway, it's pretty awesome. I don't know how long i will be able to continue, or if i'll just give this up after a couple weeks, but like my other bike tour, i'm just open to heading out and seeing what happens. The important lesson is... bike touring is super easy to translate to another country. No need to get insurance or registration, no need to have a license, no need to deal with any cops or government bodies... Just get a bike, strap your stuff on, and go. Still a great way to travel.
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