Here we go again

The clouds roll on with the sun again, taking over the horizon while the light of a new day begins to look over the hills. This city is alive before dawn, greeting the empty streets with hurried commuters and the chance to get it all done before the big rain comes in mid-day.

Bogota, Colombia

Welcome to it, Buenos Dias. Today, I’m four floors up, and in this pent house suite I can see al the way up to the site of Monseratte. It sits high atop the mountainous range that borders this city of 9 million and which produces a back drop for the many high rise buildings that have recently been built here due to the economic strength of the city and country alike. Adjusting my lens further back, there is a playground surrounded by old growth trees and street vendors doing their business on motorcycle side cars while steam welled into the air like a flag up a flag pole. Adjust a little further, and I can see my own reflection in this wall of a window, as I drink a Coke for breakfast and await a knock on the door that has scrambled eggs and cheese waiting on the other side.

The story of how I got to be here is unique, or was for me at least. I answered the call from a friend who needed a hand getting an oilfield tool flown overnight from Edmonton to Bogota. Holding up drilling operations makes people excited and the sooner things get going again, the better. Those of us that know, know. I packed my bags that night and was soon driving over to Winnipeg to catch a flight out of Edmonton, where I would meet a work associate outside the terminal who had the tool. After a couple of handshakes, I packed this thing up and headed back through customs, now using my carefully chosen items in a dry bag to carry on and get me through the itinerary.

Here we are in Seattle. After a fine conversation while sharing the emergency exit responsibilities with a couple from Montana, I was treated to the finest tap water an airport ever offered anyone in the history of both tap water and airports. I was happy to dump my hoodie in my dry bag as the lobby had their heat set to storm settings, not everyone regards +10 Celsius as a perfect evening.

Tampa was the next turn, and home for an 8 hr layover. It was time for my dry bag approach to earn it’s salt. Arriving at 11pm, I found my gate and looked for one close by that was deserted. I didn’t have to look far, and was soon lying on the carpeted floor of gate 92. Hidden behind the handicap row of seats and between the window to the runway was my luxury suite for the next few hours. I always pack a full set of clothes in my carry on, as well as a few books and whatever I’ll need incase of baggage loss from the check items. This doubles as an excellent pillow, and has worked great for me many times.

Finally, I had reached my destination. The capital of Colombia. Minutes away from accomplishing my mission, now all I had to do was find my checked bag, a fella named Gomez to hand over the hardware, and my driver who would transport me to my new home for the next ten days. My checked luggage was dented pretty bad, which made me feel justified in having purchased it in the first place. Gomez found me at exit 5, and after a high five was off on another flight into the jungle to drop off the tool. My driver was holding a picture of Birtle’s coolest guy ever for identification, (shown below) which kicked off my Colombian days nicely.

I spent those ten days at Reidsy’s recovering from the kind of transit time that comes with a last minute booking. Going out to see the bright lights and night life, a walking tour that dealt me a second degree sunburn on a rainy day, and enjoying an afternoon taking in the sights of Monseratte, and an afternoon at the art museum, complete with a few Picasso’s.

This trip would serve as CPR for someone who was nothing short of stuck in a rut. It feels like a much longer road from my return to Canada to this excursion than it actually was, but choosing your own adventure usually proves to be it’s own reward. I can’t imagine a world in which I would ever turn down such an opportunity. Even with a couple patches of rough going.

My adventure from Winnipeg, to Edmonton, to Seattle, to Tampa, to Bogota was a bit of a learning curve, even for someone who has been around the block a time or two. With the changes brought on by the covid years, a couple of things had caught me off guard.

When I looked up the documentation needed to cross borders, I knew I had to bring proof of my shots, and in every other setting, the scannable proof of was sufficient for my needs. I had to fiddle around with the mobile site and break a sweat just to navigate my way through. I think the same people that engineer Volkswagens must have had a hand in this website. When it was my turn to present my vaccine chart, I was miles away from their needs, but was luckily passed through with verbal confirmation and onto the next winding river line up for check point number two.

Like myself, a number of travellers were caught off guard but hadn’t been so lucky. They were now phoning home or digging around for reasons why they should be allowed to pass through.

I had to phone my Mom to send me a picture of my health care number to complete the process, and was soon holding a list of vaccines I had received. The second check point was home to even more strays with all the excuses in the world. No dice, kids. Welcome to the jungle.

The second surprise would come as I began an attempt to check in for my return departure. I needed to have an emigration form filled out with passport numbers, flight numbers and declarations about goods, currency and the like. With the half hour of free wifi at the airport, you need to not only be sharp, but also have a level one comprehension of Spanish, and someones local phone number handy to log in. Or you’re up the creek.

Don’t call it a come back

All in all though, it’s good to be back. If you’re reading this now, you may have been following my attempt at a bike trip around the world, which was cut short in March 2020. This blog that was once a journal of my adventures will now be transitioning into information on the basics of travelling, as I have been asked endless questions on just how one goes about doing what I do, and perhaps why. I will be on the road again in three years time, and will hope to ride for a minimum of seven years.

In the meantime, please send me any questions or inquiries about anything from booking adventures, flights, hotels etc. Ask about getting around in new places, about cycle touring, about anything that crosses your mind, and I will be sure to include you directly in my blog when I field your inquiry.

Happy Birthday Shelby.

Thanks for visiting, and keep your stick on the ice.