Week 9: Bogota, Bizarre Nights, and a Breakdown in Medellin

Hey everyone, it's Alexander.

Week 9 started with me flying from Panama City to Bogotá to pick up my bike that I shipped ahead of me. I was warned that getting it out of customs would be an all-day affair, and—spoiler alert—it was. I had a couple of days to explore Colombia’s capital, where I packed in museums, walked through the city, and got a high-altitude reality check.

The ride south from Bogotá through the Andes was nothing short of epic. And then, just when I thought things were smooth sailing, my bike decided to remind me who’s really in charge.

Bogotá: Museums, Altitude, and a Lesson in Oxygen Levels

I touched down in Bogotá on Sunday, January 26, grabbed a hotel near the airport, and promptly crashed for 11 straight hours. That (almost) never happens. When I finally came to, I realized why I felt so wiped—Bogotá sits at 2,640 m (8,660 ft) above sea level. Less oxygen, more exhaustion. And since I’ll be in the Andes for a while, it looks like by body will need some time to acclimatize.

Sunday was all about exploring the city. I hit up three museums—first, the National Museum of Colombia, a deep dive into the country’s history. It was really interesting and I spent a good part of my day there. Just down the street, I visited the Museum of Modern Art, which was absolutely spectacular. And finally, the Museo de Oro (Gold Museum), packed with ancient gold artifacts. Gold isn't really my thing, but hey, if anyone wants to give me a brick or two, I won’t say no.

Enjoying Sunday in Bogotá

Bogotá’s energy was wild—On Sundays, major streets are closed to traffic and taken over by pedestrians, cyclists, and street performers. It was a city alive and awash with people being out and enjoying themselves. And for lunch? As I wrote about before, on this trip I want to stay where the locals stay, eat what the locals east, and really experience their culture. And so I had a proper Colombian meal amongst the locals—no fast food for me–except for that one Wendy’s burger in Guadalajara, but let’s not talk about that.

The Customs Hassle and a New Friend

Monday was bike retrieval day, and yes, it took all day. The process was a mix of waiting, forms, more waiting, and navigating more forms. I met Bronson, a nurse from Seattle, who’s doing the same ride to the bottom of South America, but taking six months to do it.

We were lucky to find a very helpful woman who guided us through the maze of customs formalities and afterward we we grabbed lunch and had a great conversation. It was great to have some company again, even if for a little while. Finally, at 3:30 PM, my bike was released from DHL and I was free to roll again.

From left to right: Hildegard, my bike; Bronson and the lady that helped us; Bronson taking off on his ride

However, I decided that I was really enjoying Bogotá, so I gave myself an extra day to explore. Tuesday took me up to the Basilica of Monserrate, perched at 3,156 m (10,351 ft) with absolutely stunning views. Next, I took the cable car (fun!) up to Museo Santa Clara and wandered around. I had another solid local meal, and saw some guys having some fisticuffs while people were yelling, "Policía! Policía!" In the end, one of the guys ended up in the fountain–just like in the movies.

The beautiful city of Bogotá, Colombia

I kept walking and I treated myself to a wafer sandwich treat. It was made up of a wafer–caramel–wafer, a whopping 8 inches in diameter and delicious! I wound up back at the hotel where a few more riders checked in. I guess it's quite typical here. Overall, I had a really lovely day on Tuesday.

8" of deliciousness

Bogotá to Medellin: Twists, Turns, and a Tollbooth Incident

Wednesday morning, I set out for Medellin, stopping at the famous Salt Cathedral of Zipaquirá, an underground Roman Catholic church built inside the tunnels of an old salt mine 200 m (600 ft) underground. It was incredibly interesting.

The visit put me way behind schedule, though, which meant I had to push late into the day to make up time. That was a big mistake when I reached La Palma I quickly realized there were no hotels. The only option was to backtrack half an hour to a weird campground-hotel hybrid that had a pool, a massive disco area, and a single occupant—me.

It was just me and the groundskeeper, and neither of us spoke each other's language. No Wi-Fi, sketchy cell service and strange vibes all around. Let’s just say, I didn’t sleep well.

Also, shoutout to the Colombian toll booth worker who stopped six lanes of traffic to get me into the correct bike lane after I rolled into the wrong one–oops. Bikes don’t pay tolls here, and he made sure I got the free pass.

The Ride to Medellin and a Near Breakdown

The next morning, (I survived the night as you can tell) I gave the groundskeeper a coffee that I made on my JetBoil. He was a nice guy and didn't want me to leave. I guess he was lonely, but I had a long ride ahead.

The first 2.5 hours were brutal gravel roads—nothing fun about it. I was never so happy to see finally hit the pavement.

Riding through the Andes is like nothing else. Sharp twists, endless turns, mountains that stretch forever. Colombia even has the most random wildlife road signs—snakes, armadillos, deer, hedgehogs… even squirrels. Who puts up signs for squirrels?!

I finally rolled into Medellin and was immediately greeted by a kid on a bike who fist-bumped me mid-ride and did the sign of the cross. Guess that means I’m blessed on this journey–see below.

Bike Repairs and a Costly Surprise

My first order of business in Medellin was to visit my friend Mora, a fellow rider I met in Ecuador on a previous trip. He took me to his mechanic to get the bike serviced. Oil change, new filters, fresh tires, and brakes. As they went through the bike, they found something bad. Really bad.

My driveshaft was completely shot and about to give way.

I’d been hearing knocking noises the day before. I was extremely lucky it didn't break on me on my ride through the Andes as there were huge pockets with no cell services, and getting stranded would not have been a good thing. I guess the fist-bumping kid was right, I was blessed!

The BMW 1200GS is a beast, but it’s also been a pain in the ass since day one. From waiting five months for delivery to dealing with dealerships with no customer service, it’s been one issue after another. And now? A massive repair bill.

So, I’m stuck in Medellin while the bike gets fixed. Not the worst place to be, but still—this one’s gonna hurt the wallet.

Stay tuned for what happens next.

Stay savage, and now more than ever, stay strong, and free.

MotoAgent out.