Como Retirar Hms De Pokemons No Pokemon Esmerald

The crossing Panama Odyssey. Fifth

Normal 0 21 false false false MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 (I recommend as I did once, use the form of images while reading the entry, there are only two photos in this section and well worth watching to get a better idea of \u200b\u200bplaces.)

Now if, in Cartagena de Indias was where would it find a way to read and reread many times when he was planning the trip for a while now, it was time to do it myself: crossing to Panama. Now, let's get one thing before moving on, doing this is actually very easy as long as they give a couple of conditions, namely: First, have enough money to not just economically inconvenient and, second, do not have a bike (or any other motor vehicle) on his back which also have to cross. Actually one thing makes the other, if we have the cash no matter whether you have to cross with a motorcycle or a motor home, twine ultimately brings the world to ride, the ticket any gears oiled. As I was saying, as in my case did not give any of the two premises I mentioned, things are complicated, and pretty. I started to go the yacht club and fishing club, where boats usually go to Puerto Colon. Then the prices that outweigh me pull me over, not in my possibilities nor in what seems reasonable to pay me what I asked. Compulsorily dismissed this option, look at the other ports, from where boats merchant, these boats do not inspire me any confidence, seemed to disarm just look at hard.

The days I was in Cartagena I installed in the Fire Station, as it had in Buga a month ago, the location and the good mood of the place was the best option, I end being about five days, step resolved some labor issues would help me a lot financially to what is coming. The walled city, which had a beautiful view from the barracks, I could go to several sometimes very first hour of the day, when there is nobody on the streets, it really is a privilege to do this, walk alone in its streets, feel the history that is wasted here. Late in the morning things change a little, the hustle, the same as any other tourist town flooded the streets, the experience becomes another, very different.

But imponderables arise ...

I left Cartagena with the idea of \u200b\u200bgetting a Turbo in the day, or at least to snuggle up, without a map, much less at this point the GPS was only noted on a slip of paper on which people had to spend to not deviate and ending who knows where. As will be imagined and as much as I strive to avoid it at one point she pifie the road and into a police checkpoint (as there are in all Colombian routes) I realized that I was wandering. This was not bad, were not more than fifteen minutes I'd have to go back, what was that really fulero retracing my steps I put on a truck from behind, that quite asshole (will excuse the expression) had stopped on the road emerging from a curve, the thirty or forty yards that separated the mule output of this curve is not enough to get me to stop completely, the shoulder was not an option, much less spend the other hand, finally, ending sung. It's very funny how in that last second before you hit (or fall in previous cases) I have time to think about a lot of things, and do not talk about spending my life as a movie, nothing like that, I mean I get to think and decide what to do to shock or drop is least disruptive as possible, ie which should not be able to analyze the shoulder, not the other road, to all this my four members did their best to stop the bike (brakes, clutch and changes) as well as thought and settle down to hit as little as possible in that she knew was inevitable. The result: broken fender, front wheel "abananada, broken mirrors, steering wheel on the edge of the break (this time for both sides), broken headlight and front shock absorbers were not playing well. As for me, some scratches and a little pain in the leg. Luckily (not always because I have a little luck) the whole issue was before a little house (the only one who had for many miles), I kept the bike while wearing a fix the wheel, I knew I did not learn more in Buenos Aires, to focus the rim and while he had a basic idea, I encourage to do it myself, had been badly distorted. In all this fuck I was several hours and a few bucks. Still cursing the trucker went back to the road, would hopefully Montería before quitting time. Actually reaches almost falling dusk. Fire again. At this point all I wanted was to be in turbo and try to solve the crossing as soon as possible. The next day, sunrise and tourer routine breakfast: tea, biscuits and some fruit. Four hours and a very bad state road separating me from that port.

From what we mean to cross into Panama?

I can say about Turbo?, Marcelo (motochileros) had warned me that it was a rather ugly, typical port, typical point of departure, place of passage, unbearable heat, dirt where you look, the port has not to envy the stream Buenos Aires (Buenos Aires.). Just get started to walk around where they stop the boats leaving for Panama and the last towns in Colombia. Those who come to San Blas were all on the road, take several days to get back and a good amount out again, there are only that at most reach or Zapsurro Capurganá. Then I sync with the master of Sin Fronteras, Libardo, which tells me that he wait until the next day to tell me if you can load the bike, is expecting a load of merchandise, he says he is ready to work, good data.

Another thing Marc had told me was that I could stop the fire if necessary, there I was. There was almost no place to even put up our tent. The next day, and after analyzing a lot of crossover opportunities, including direct ship to deliver it in Columbus and get into the trail that leaves Acandí (Colombia) to Yaviza (Panama), I confess that it thought it would last, the issue of this second option is that you get through the mountains that are the mountainous jungle of Darien, the worst of this path no matter how difficult the stretch in the field are dangers in this area are indeed certain, paramilitary right-wing groups ... well, not very friendly people to say. While in turbo came to offer me take this road for $ 150 (started asking 400) when I told them I was with the Rojita were sincere and told me the bike move around is impossible.

the Pan American Highway, which links southern Argentina Alaska, is cut to get to northern Colombia to start again in Yaviza, Panama, reportedly the most important reasons are related to environmental issues and preservation of ecosystems, it sounds logical ... until right there. On the other hand there is the issue of drug trafficking, could talk a long time talking about it, the political and economic interests on the control of drug trafficking into the United States is much stronger than any environmental issue and we know that the underground is always better business, which is much better to have the way "cut off" (just business) that open and as you said Calle 13 "share the candy from the piñata." I will not expand much on this issue, all roads always lead to political corruption.

Turbo The second day I was pulling me to swim across, I wanted to go as soon as the situation was very stressful, here and there, by calling some contacts that I had passed and others finding out I was right there, figuring, Chamuyando, pulling lines, all while the sun is to burn any living being is put under its rays. Libardo I confirm that I had the bike for only $ 25 a goal. Slightly faster than did the output process through customs and take the Rojita to Sin Fronteras, I still had to change money into dollars Colombian calculating what still had to spend and do not stay with Colombian pesos to go to Panama. It was Friday, I promised the bike would be in Capurganá on Sunday afternoon, not bad. I confess that cost me much to part with the Rojita, after so many months where you hardly take your eyes off, we became one, quite literally, did everything possible so that we cross together, but the output is quite controlled Turbo (at least merchant ships), not allowed foreign passengers on board the crew of these ships, for a moment, Libardo, realizing that nothing I did not like parting of the bike, I said that effort would take me too. Still, I am inspired enough confidence as I realized that to avoid problems it would be best to leave aside.

early Saturday I take that kind of group are aquatic pangas, took about 4 hours, get everything wet, luckily the bag and the guitar arrived safely.

The emerging landscape Caráquez Bay (Turbo) is striking, the Caribbean on one side and the impenetrable mountains of Darien to the other while the water color change is constant, I lost count a while, but I estimate which have been about 6 or 7 very different colors from black oiled port to an emerald green, through all kinds of brown and blue.

Waiting The Rojita.

In Capurganá frankly is not much to do, in my case just hope that comes with the Rojita Libardo aboard Without Borders. In this village, the light comes at 9 am, cut from 8 to 10 pm and after 2 am again. Meanwhile the best power cut is going to lie belly up in the sand. Assemble a small field tent near the beach and sat down to wait, guitar in front of the sea, and spent hours in my last Colombian people.

Meanwhile, to save time and start negotiating price started talking to boaters to see if it could and it cost me to take the Rojita Puerto Obaldia, where would have to Customs and Immigration of the Panamanian side and I had spoken pests.

Sunday appeared, from afar, Libardo the Sin Fronteras, and with the bike and had almost settled on land transport to the Panamanian side, but only for Monday. I

migration out, spend the last Colombian pesos in some supplies for the coming days, we must bear in mind that these are all quite distant villages and isolated, and often get something as basic as bread or crackers is all but more complicated and given that I did not know when he would get out of the next port and much less even though it was to be on the side road again Panama. Upload

Capurganá the bike was not exactly the best time I spent in this last time, the sea quite rough, the difference in level between the battered wooden pier and minilancha with something more than luck would get me Obaldía, the same weight of the bike and all the baggage ... well, at times imagined Rojita lost in the sea floor. They were the longest minutes at least, this trip. The stretch-Puerto Obaldía Capurganá takes no more than half an hour in running through the beaches of Zapsurro and Honey, paradise itself, water color, transparency that reveals the background perfectly, the color of sand, palm trees ...

Unfortunately I could not stay there, my place of descent was quite different to this. Puerto Obaldía is basically a military base, a small town around, little or nothing to do, luckily there was Internet (expensive) and I could connect a while to notice that for the time came all right. For just a few minutes I was a ship that went to Columbus, I came to ten, but I was not the time to do all the rigmarole and load the bike, a shame. I had to camp a night there, I no longer stand in Capurganá I had not been able to bathe, no water, here less, bathroom was not even available, I summon up patience and wait another day to see if the ship was anchored at the dock out.

Subi you wear.

Indeed

King Emmanuel, merchant ship from Port Obaldía and covers the entire area of \u200b\u200bthe islands of San Blas, had date and time of departure for that day so The Rojita and I did approach, I was told would take about four or five days (which were eventually six) to get to Miramar, a small town to port before Portobelo and from which could go by road.

Emmanuel King is touring the islands inhabited by the Kuna Yala community, originally from these places, keep their language, customs, one might even say that their own laws. Clear that despite this is also invaded by coca-cola, direct tv, mobile telephony and of course the slave dollar.

In one of these islands, as I wandered the aisles, stand in a house to buy something to drink, I expected something like a milkshake, not, some fruit, something that has to do with where we were a handwritten placard announcing "Sodas to 0.50", asked one. I brought a bottle of cola, it seemed a little ridiculous situation, was on an island in the Caribbean Sea where you can easily feel like 200 or 300 years ago and I taking a pep ... there is, in these islands, where you can clearly see American Indian features like few places, typical clothes, its own dialect and where you live in the most precarious (in our eyes) and with the basics, TV, beer, soda and phone cell are not lacking in any home. I came to my mind something I had felt for some months in Bolivia and Peru also moments, ie, that it's all about? Poverty? Culture? Lack of culture? Devastation of their culture in complicity with those affected? It is strange to see things as extreme and dissonant as are some of the things I mentioned (reed huts and sand floor houses a luxurious 29-inch TV), I think the mirrors colors are still the ticket for globalization and consumerism, the disastrous U.S. culture continues to rage in the few communities that still retain some of their culture alive.

back to the merchant ships, to give you an idea, in this area are boats about 12 meters long by 4 wide, ranging leaving merchandise, food and some collect coconuts and bananas leading to Cartagena, Turbo, Barranquilla and Covenas these, Colombian ports.

Every evening anchored in an island Kuna overnight to continue browsing the other day first thing. The Emanuel King crew, like many other merchants that do the same route, is formed by: the boat owner, captain, a cook, a mechanic, three assistants and in this case, the Rojita and me. Spend six days of service for full Caribbean Sea, pure rice, beans, sardines, bananas and fried fish. When I say "pure ..." is literal, breakfast, lunch and dinner was exactly the same menu. While watching the sea and some 365 islands overloaded with coconuts, white sand and turquoise waters, the occasional dolphin every now and then appeared to us and accompanied us for several minutes. I think that whatever cost and I had the days before trying to find a way to cross is amply rewarded browsing.

The last day before reaching the immigration control of the island of El Porvenir, we ran into a storm that was at times quite uncomfortable and tense journey, interesting experience yes, but at that point of the trip (by boat ) I just wanted to finally return to the mainland. We

late afternoon to the Port of Miramar, the sky threatened rain and the town offered very little or would say anything fairer. Again we passed through immigration control, the bike went down to the dock ... and now if the feeling of having gone from being on the other hand, have achieved something less complicated, a kind of satisfaction mixed with uncertainty, with a whole new journey ahead, with much to do, see, live and with very little in my pocket ... well, the issue of money will now happen to be central But that and some other things but you count them in the next entry.

Savanna Samson And Friends

depth to the Caribbean ...

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.

What Is Pooping A Lot A Sign Of

Medellin ... but we can tell medal! Say

The next destination was Medellin, from Manila had two choices, go for the Pan-American about two hours of journey, route in good conditions, without much shock or rather put me on mountain roads and visit some people ... there was not much to think about, obviously I chose the second option. Life in the villages of Colombia has a very special, different from Peru or Bolivia, so if it's similar to these two countries is how much we live the street, public space, but particularly here is that this life is much more sociable, more sharing, more bars, taverns, pool, men in particular has a strong presence in public life, with its inevitable hat, sometimes on horseback, or by taking a red wine and chatting at a bar table. The architecture and layout of these people contribute a lot to create this atmosphere is the perfect setting for this mode of life. Towns like Neyra, Salamina, Aguadas Aranzasu and fit well with this description.

Medellín, city of eternal spring, the countries of beautiful women ... could be a long time beautifying this city, is simply that I loved ... the climate, architecture, food, friendliness of people, women (although I have to say that in general is beautiful at times superficial, plastic ... looks and queens might say); is nowhere near what one might think a priori of this city, clearly one of ignorance leads him to think first in the Medellin Cartel, the well never weighted Pablo Escobar, drugs, murders, kidnappings. Last time you could say, the transformation that "suffered" Medellín in the last fifteen years surprises and strangers (like me), the sense of country ownership is enviable, it can be seen especially in parks, public space , in the subway (it has more than fifteen years and it seems that opened last week), the city itself, treatment of people, the country really feel proud of where they live and above all ... I care.
Of course not everything is rosy, all cities show their best side to tourism while hiding the dirt under the rug, despite everything mentioned above, Medellín is not exempt from the evils of all large cities, drugs, violence, exclusion and everything that comes with that addition, the special thing about this city is this transformation that made you stop being a place dominated by these evils to advance to control and move even to be an excellent model example of urban planning. It is the impression I take away from this city after giving a few turns, cross it and find out a little of the urban situation.


sebas Loko and Mauri had baptized me in the messages we had crossed, the traveler paisa where I stayed and got into town just took me to a party where the liquor Antioquia nothing short of stunning me ... good way starting with Medellin.
I get used and I quickly locate within the city, very organized, well marked, many high quality public spaces, enjoy much Medellín, also from my side of architect.
With George, first we went to another traveler paisa do parts of the city, and later with the same mauri in around the center.

After a week of rest in the most beautiful city (with the exception of Buenos Aires, of course) in South America, turned again to the path. Three hundred miles separated me from the capital, had no thought of doing so in the day, there were some places and people to visit. Guatapé for example, a reservoir area dominated by a giant stone, but eh giant, should have about two hundred meters high, monolithic, they say fall (¿?). space As if one stone was not enough, the incredible landscape surrounding a small lakes that are all together Guatapé reservoir. I stayed several hours worth be just contemplating such immensity, so much beauty. To all this, my camera was restarted in Medellin after more than two months so I could portray all this a bit.
I left when the evening fell inexorably over me again to deal with gas stations, finish assembling tent on a toll station when it was at night, it rained for several hours.

Carmen (actually Carmenza, but always I shortened the name) had written me a few days before telling me that was a few days in La Dorada, a town full pasturelands on the Magdalena River, hot place if is their way to and go to Bogota, was happy to meet her and her sister Maria Helena (two chatty parrots the words of the very Mary Helen), his nephew Juan Felipe and Carolina friends, beautiful people with whom I shared a couple of days but with which I immediately had a lot of affinity. With them went through La Dorada and Honda, the latter being a very important town in what was the liberator of Bolivar, but very little known and promoted for those visiting this country. It is a small town full of history really worth knowing.
Middle
country almost a month had passed, unconsciously he was beginning to feel the trouble and anxiety for crossing to Panama, a kind of fear of the unknown of how to do it, how would the trip after being on the other side of the Darien Gap. In some ways I think this situation will not let me fully enjoy the last few weeks in the coffee country.






Public Library, one of many interventions at the urban level.












Using Naples, formerly owned by Pablo Escobar
.












Embalse de Guatapé.














Piedra de Guatapé.









Trapito, la rojita y la piedra.




























Atardecer en La Dorada.








Here
Maria Helena and Juan Felipe.













Walking through the streets of Honda.

Fotos Y Vídeos Gratis De Culós Grandes

talk about Colombia ...

few months ago since I updated the blog, several months in which many things changed, things went really good and some not. I have no pictures to show, my camera was intent on not work so I recommend any internet search engine to understand better what I am told.

Let us return to where we had left in the last entry ... Ecuador-Colombia border.

Moneychangers ... these if they are a breed apart, people (including cities) to live to change wallpapers in the border areas. In the previous crossings had not seen that particular both literally'll come up with the money in hand shaking, striking with the notes as if they were Locomía, shouting "change, change!" ... In my case was not much to offer, just fifteen dollars and some coins soles came creeping into my backpack from Peru to idea of \u200b\u200bleaving them to the collection, but as the situation is running out ... anyway, I got pod and stick by that and I went to do the same rigmarole a while ago, but this time of entry.

The difference in gas prices between two countries is enormous, on the advice of Juanfer charge me a few cans of gasoline before crossing the border, it had to at least get to Popayan, and that's something these times of scarcity of foreign currency in my wallet, something is more than a lot.

Right there near the border but the Colombian side went to see the Sanctuary of Las Lajas, a neo-Gothic church built in a ravine, with some remnants Romanesque somewhat medieval, with a bridge linking both sides of the barrel vaulted arches, the river below, finally, an implementation simply spectacular, the church itself, in style and detail (especially inside) leaves much much to be desired, even some become unpleasant, but of course, the natural environment supplies all these issues. The bottom of the altar, with the rock of the mountain looming (although I have to say I left in no doubt about the naturalness of this issue) the only thing I found redeeming about the interior.

In the remainder of the day drive to Pasto, my first major city in Colombia, I really did not have much to do there, just spend the night, after finding a station service, for the first time all trip, I was denied more than three times the same day your tent in the parking lot of the stations.

When I found one that accepted me, far away from downtown, suits me, I take a few reds that I was invited by the beach ... clarify doubts and though some are obvious, which is called Tinto black coffee is not this taking the habit of drinking ...

The next stop on my road was Popayán, which had not too much information ... the road from Pasto to this city is paradise itself to do so on a motorcycle, the vastness of the landscape as only in few places I felt the depth of canyons, the sun bathing the mountains, the road constantly ledge, as wonderful as admire it while driving is dangerous, I do not get tragic, but any distraction, no matter how small just might end, you can imagine ...

in Popayán, the white city (I think it should be the fourth or fifth white city in which way), stop with some artisans a little pedestrian, something I sold, at least for the day's expenses and taking into account that my spirit dealer is quite poor, it's going well. In this comparison of Pasto city, at the pump the better, I was invited to dinner, of course, the people's surprise at seeing me with the bike loaded up to stop and listen when I tell them where I come from growing inversely proportional to the distance my place of origin, in Creole, but I am far, but they sound incredible history. Spend two days in Popayan, traveled a little historical center, very nice.

De Cali unfortunately not take the best impression I actually wanted to leave as soon as before the tangle of bikes 2T, they spray the city with their sound and atmosphere petardero so special. Cali is the third largest city, relatively large, late hours (no exaggeration) to reach the center, I never knew which was the central plaza or just "the center", nor the police knew to locate me, partly because it disrupted the traffic, sometimes hamper the metro more than you ordered, in some places causes, for example, that to get from one street to another parallel is less than 100 meters have to do a whole endless loop, resuming, waiting for traffic lights and new ( if not the only miscues right way) you get where you wanted, a mess, and then again turned to suffer the bad directions of police and bystanders, not a bad intention, I believe it is only lack of understanding. The problem is that they explain to me a very rudimentary way, as if I lived right there when my nationality mature falls just hear me say two words, no clutch explain stress as they would anybody else there. Anyway, apart from the chaos of the city itself had to withstand a downpour while trying to locate a tourist office or something that tells me where to grab. And screwed to the edge of town, I was almost running away in search of peace in any village, and was to end in Buga, I remembered that Marcelo (motochileros) had told me there and had stopped in Ibague in the firehouse, which I had not done so, stop all kinds of places but never on fire, was a good time to start. Those days I walked populate, Buga, Cartago, Anserma, in these last two places I spent a weekend of festivities, celebrations such as payments for my lost long ago ... career balineras (carts with wheels bearings) kite competition, a festival where the whole family participates, takes to the streets, sports, and at night the spirit becomes the protagonist in the whole town, the streets of Anserma become a grand ballroom, people in street drinking, dancing, uploaded to your horses or bikes spin around town in a situation as chaotic as funny, even bizarre at times, a lack of control healthy enough if you will.

I was still complicated with Service stations, which in other countries was set to sleep and bathe in Colombia became an odyssey of five gas stations that stop to ask, hopefully, in a me leave, sometimes I think it's confidence but I also do not understand what I try to tell you when I stop, I get the feeling they think I want to stay to live or have a picnic like a campsite, no, build a campfire and get to play the guitar ... I guess they must be unfamiliar and strange to get crazy with the bike all loaded asking putting up a tent for the night.

Pass Pereyra, capital of Risaralda department, full and almost coffee-length followed the next day and was in Manizales, Caldas department, fans remember Xeneizes not very happy the team in this city Once Caldas, who lost Boquita the final of the Libertadores believed won before ... Anyway, this city is something different from other major cities in Colombia, very "falduda" as the Colombian people is that it is a city built on mountains has a particular topography, the climate is generally steady throughout the year ... always cloudy! The week I was there could not be otherwise, it rained almost every day, when it did not rain, it pours. Spend a week in good company at the home of a friend, Erika, her sisters and her mother.

In this area I saw some very good buildings in Guadua, a type of bamboo, is amazing shapes and structures that can be achieved with this material, relatively little used given the abundance and constructive qualities he has. It is clear that no widespread use of these materials has everything to do with the image and the idea that got us and we are getting into the head of what is meant by being socially, the "house of material" (ie cement , brick, etc.) with its many shortcomings, the monopolies of multinational companies (steel, cement), the lack of new universities in terms of new construction systems, imposed on their taste parameter which "should be "a" home " while both are still wasting the benefits (environmental, construction, economic) of materials that offer much more than we imagine.

Moving on, in Manizales GPS he put his hand to that already given up as lost and I did work, though rushed and anxious and want to use it, I finished shitting all, was good while it lasted.

Medellin would be the next stop, but Medallo deserves a separate entry. Salud!