"Bogged down in Bogota........"

Leaving Panama City proved as difficult by plane as previous border crossings had been by bike. I booked my flight online and the following day received an e mail cancelling my reservation because they didn`t accept international credit cards for flights booked with less than 3 days notice. So I re-booked with another company and secured the last seat on a direct flight to Bogota. It was with some relief that organized my luggage for an early departure the next day. I was eager to leave Panama City after nearly 5 days of waiting and in the meantime I had somehow picked up what I thought was a bad cold. You know, the usual stuff, painfully sore throat, streaming nose and eyes, hot sweats.

By the time I arrived at the airport the next day, I felt a whole lot worse, only to be greeted by an extremely long queue to check in, which snaked it`s way around the concourse. By the time I made the check in desk I was sweating profusely and my mood was not helped when I was informed,

“The flight is overbooked and we have put you on standby”!

“Standby?”

“Yes. Maybe you can stay in Panama one more night and we give you a hotel…..”

“I don`t want to stay in Panama. I need to get to Bogota today” I said, not allowing him to finish his sales pitch. He finally gave me a boarding pass with no seat number and told me to speak to the person at the departure gates. He obviously didn`t want to get involved in an argument and decided to pass me on to someone else.

Another huge queue to get through security finally got me flight side where I could sit down and get some food inside me. While really not relishing the prospect of another day in Panama, there was nothing I could do except “go with the flow” and see what would happen as we began to board.

It`s amazing how much more difficult everything becomes when you are physically below par, but this was yet again something to test my resolve and attitude. It was beginning to wear thin.

At the departure gate I noticed a young girl waiting at the desk and I guessed she was in the same situation. I guessed right. She was Colombian and was returning for Christmas and was eager not to miss her family reunion, and so we both put our best pleading case forwards (well she interpreted for me).

They must have liked her smile because minutes before departure we had our seats allocated.

“What about our luggage?” I asked her.

“That`s a good point” she said, “I`ll ask them”

She was assured there would be no problem and so we could finally relax safe in the knowledge that we would soon be on South American soil.

“The best laid plans…………….”

I arrived on schedule in Bogota, but sadly my luggage didn`t. So sneezing and sweating my way through the “lost luggage” process, I was finally assured that my luggage would be delivered to my hostel that night at 9.00 p.m. Needless to say, it didn`t arrive that night and to compound things my bike not only didn`t arrive either but hadn`t even left Panama!

Having paid for next day shipping, it still wasn’t there 5 days later. But at that stage I was feeling so ill I couldn`t get worked up about anything.

The temperature in Bogota was considerably lower than Panama and I had no warm clothes to wear (all being still in Panama) so I borrowed a jacket from the hostel manager and went to bed fully clothed, with 3 blankets and was still shivering uncontrollably.

I`d gone to a 24hr pharmacy and got some over the counter antibiotics and just hoped they would do the trick because I was feeling like shit. The only thing worse than feeling ill, is feeling ill thousands of miles from home and being alone and isolated.

As I lay in my bed feeling sorry for myself and sweating heavily, I was thinking, my plan of spending New Year in Quito was looking less and less likely. There were still some huge bureaucratic mountains to climb to get the necessary insurance and clear the bike through customs (whenever it might arrive in the country) and find a BMW garage to get the service done, and all before Christmas in a week`s time.

Should prove interesting.

I decided to move from my hostel to a hotel in downtown Bogota in the Candalaria district which is the old part of town and also a little more dangerous, but the hotel had been recommended to me by Juan, a rider Andy had met while trying to sort out the bike problems. Juan is an Argentinian who is now living in Costa Rica. He is also on a trip south back to Argentina.

It also made sense to work together to get the bikes through customs and Juan`s Spanish would prove invaluable.

On the day of the move I was still feeling extremely unwell, the antibiotics made me feel nauseous and upset my stomach every time I took them, but I had to drag myself up and get on with it. When I checked in and opened my e mail I discovered that the bikes had arrived at last and we had a cab ordered for 11.30 a.m. that day to all go down and sort out the paperwork.

I had a feeling it was going to be a long day.

Girag Air Cargo was as laid back at Bogota as it had been in Panama. No hurry. Everything done, if at all, at a snail`s pace. After the mandatory paperwork, photocopies, and long walk to the customs and back again, we eventually got to see our bikes. I was anxious to see what if any damage had been done. To my relief, only a slight break in the windscreen. So within 2 hours we had liberated our bikes!

While Andy went straight to the BMW garage for a long overdue service, I said to Juan,

“What about asking them for some compensation for the delay?”

“Yes, I think we should. If you watch the bikes I will go and see what we can get”

There followed a 3 hour wait while Juan negotiated with the man who could make the necessary decisions. More paperwork followed, but we eventually rode away with the princely sum of $100 each. At least that will cover 3 day`s accommodation I thought. Better than nothing and as Juan said, there was a principle at stake.

With that major hurdle overcome, the next step was to find the BMW garage and get them to do some basic work on the bike. The truth is, I could have done most of it but it would have taken just too much energy. Each day after taking the antibiotics, I feel nauseous and generally worse for several hours.

The garage turned out to be 8 miles away in the north of the city, but at least they were extremely friendly and helpful. Enrique, the service manager spoke good enough English and promised to have all the work done by the next day, which was good because the next day would be Christmas Eve, and if it couldn’t be completed by then it would mean waiting in Bogota until after Christmas.

In the midst of all this hassle with the bikes, Lenny had also arrived in Bogota! He had caught me up after we had gone our seperate ways back in Nicaragua. Having failed to find a boat to transport his bike to Colombia he had been forced to use Girag Air to fly across. Fortunately for him, everything went to plan!

I had decided to set off on Christmas day with Andy no matter how I was feeling. Maybe being back on the bike would help me re-focus my attention on something other than how shit I was feeling.

So it looks like Christmas Day will be spent on 6/7 hr ride to Cali.

Merry Christmas!