Bogota and vicinity.
Reach Bogota con algunos problemas con la tarjeta, casi sin plata en el bolsillo y desencontrandome con Daniel (Derozo), un viajero con el que 
me había comunicado. Por suerte, Ale (Alejandro3030) en seguida me contacto con una amiga que me salvo de pasar una noche vaya a saber donde. Había llegado casi oscureciendo a la capital y como en todas las grandes ciudades, esa no es una buena opción.
Ya al otro dia de casualidad termine hablando con Mauricio (Mauro-Colombia), digo por casualidad porque yo estaba seguro que él estaba de viaje por Mexico en ese momento. Me dio una gran mano, esa semana me quede en su casa mientras esperaba que se solucionara mi problema con la tarjeta at that point I brought more problems than anything else. Anyway, my savings were nearly exhausted and thus would soon only a memory. In Chiquinqura visit the "cathedral of salt," salt mine would say in reality, which in former mine tunnels was an entire set scenographic (very well made about the lack of intervention) on to Catholicism. Something different to do although no longer a tourist attraction.
In Villa de Leyva was the last one evening, mind a thousand times that the camera has 
stopped working, is one of those towns to photograph from all angles, cobblestone streets, a particular architectural style as in many Colombian towns.
I remove the desire to buy the guitar, do a bit of memory, which suit buenos aires split into several pieces in Bolivia after the fall before reaching Tupiza in Chiquinquirá there are many manufacturers instruments, very good and cheaply, another very red for a traveling companion. Happy with my new purchase, (I guess later is going to be a good source of income) I went to San Gil. They say is a good place for extreme sports and adrenalin these issues, the truth that end and waste of adrenaline I have my journey, stop to rest a few days and then yes, I had nothing else to do but give it right up to the Caribbean.
That night, like the previous two tent arm stations, this time in Black River, a village on the outskirts of Bucaramanga, and out of Bogotá, the rush to get to northern Colombia 
and begin to take shape crossing Panama and was a flower skin. Start early, at 6 am and had to go fully armed, drive all day, almost ten hours, there is little to stop and see, just for lunch, refuel and stretch your legs every so often. Peoples (Near the border with Venezuela), I did not like too much, best I could do was continue to accelerate.
Far North.
Two storms I endured that day, one in the morning and afternoon, that kind of rain that sudden intense not need more than five seconds to leave me completely soaked.
After a little over seven months was coming to himself Caribbean Sea, this may be just a detail but it is nevertheless an important moment, reaching the northern tip of South America ... it is not enough, this 
question I had a little reflection as a kind of inventory of moments and situations, as advance balance and perhaps inevitable.
rodadero I stayed in a pretty tourist beach, near Santa Marta , the last place allegedly was THE place to visit in this area, frankly I do not like anything, not if it is my sense of wonder comes a little overwhelmed, maybe this feeling I've been having trouble, do not know. I spent several days at this beach if it was worth a little tanned, then I wave to the artisans who were stopping there, I could not miss Argentina, one from Cordoba who was hanging around a year ago. A crazy Buenaventura gave me a clip round tip for laburar wire and said "no clip and wire craftsman this shit plots, has" the gift and made me a nice gesture
thought to remain until the other weekend in the rodadero, but things got murky with police first, because without my account passes twice the 
street from the beach (where was the sentry box) without a helmet, it is not in use, if not every morning at breakfast in a bakery wi-fi I had two blocks, then whenever I passed that stage to get closer as the sand was very short I forgot to put it on a boludez, but I got caught twice. The second was that long balls were swelling with the artisans. I had three options, to flee from the police if trying to sell something, bribes (it was what they wanted) or send me to move. Obviously I chose option three.
done this, Barranquilla was the next station, I had 
connected Carolina, there would stop a couple of days, I needed to do some things to the Rojita, the rear wheel had virtually broken ball bearing, adjust and clean up some chain and it was time to do oil change. The heat makes in Barranquilla is mortal, is as strong as sudden rain, this alternation was waning a little overkill of the sun. I would have liked to share a few more days to Carolina, my new friend Barranquillera but unfortunately and on television, at that moment in time I was very tyrant so I had to leave for Cartagena, where he once would have to begin to resolve this question of crossing over to Panama ... but that, that'll tell you in the next entry.
