I had found a great cheap flight from Melbourne to Los Angeles for $560 with Fiji Airways (I had no luggage and it was a flash sale). Much cheaper than my $800 flight from Broome to Melbourne a week earlier. We left mid afternoon and it got me into LA a couple of hours earlier on the same day. This time travel stuff takes a lot of hours just to go back in time by two hours. The flight was fine. About 5 hours to Fiji, 2 hours transit, and then another 11 or so to LA. Airport Security in the States was slow, I think due to the current political budget issues. I lucked out on the long line because a guy sent several of us across to a couple of American Citizens only booth, because it had no line. But then when he asked if I had any fruit and I said yes, a mandarin, well that caused problems. He asked why I didn’t leave it on the plane? I said that I was going to drop it in a quarantine bin in the terminal but turns out they don’t have them in the States. I then had to be escorted to an office in a different part of the terminal and put in a room with all the other fruit smugglers. I was then taken into an office where they looked at my mandarin and asked again why I didn’t leave it on the plane. After a short lecture on how America takes biosecurity strictly, and promising to leave my contraband on the plane in the future, I was then escorted back to the terminal and allowed to leave.

My American friend was there to meet me, and we drove back to his house on the ridiculous 14 lane freeway, or however wide it was. They have one lane for cars with two or more people. We were one of the few cars in it. I can’t believe the amount of single car traffic. And the speed of it. I had a nice couple of days with my friend. A few nice meals. One where the food was brought to the table by a robot. I can see where that’s leading to. Staying in LA for a couple of days is nice, to get myself organised, and sort out a bit of jetlag. I can’t sleep on planes anymore. My mate drove me back to the airport a few days later and I caught my flight to Cucuta, Colombia, where my bike is. I hope.

I had found a good flight for about $450 that went via Panama and then direct to Cucuta. Six hours to Panama City, then a 2 hour transit and then another two and a half hours to Cucuta. When we rolled over Panama City in the early morning we had to do a few loops over the city which was nice. I got to see an arial view of somewhere Deb and I drove to 35 years ago. When we finally did land the fog at the airport was quite thick. I was sitting next to a lovely young woman who said she was a fashion designer and was coming to Cucuta to help the poor children who play basketball and don’t have shoes. I hope she couldn’t see my eye’s rolling. Cucuta only had a few random international flights and so immigration was small and the queue basically started in the tunnel as you left the plane and went down the stairs. It was quick and I was all done in less than an hour.

I had to use the ATMs again at the airport. I remember the thieving machines from when I had to use them to get out money to buy my ticket when I flew out initially. At least this time I was able to take out 1,000,000 pesos in one transaction. It cost me $450AUD. I did the same a few days later in town and it only cost me $400 for the same amount. That was annoying. I had done some research and found and booked a hotel for the first night and so caught a taxi there. It was downtown and a $4 taxi ride. I picked Hotel Azul (Blue hotel) because the rooms had a view. I guess a one metre square airshaft is a view? The room itself was okay and I was too tired to complain/explain the window. I’ll just go elsewhere tomorrow night. Or so I thought.

Once I was rested and cleaned up I walked about half an hour to the motorbike shop where I had left my bike almost 6 months earlier. I was back in the crazy Latin American traffic, walking on dodgy footpaths, avoiding holes and random steel bits, sawn off just above concrete level. And it was hot and humid. But on the plus side it was easy to buy a fresh empanada and a cold coke.

I found the bikeshop and it was a bit emotional seeing my bike again. It was stripped down with all the plastics on the floor next to it. The mechanic and his sons were lovely guys but only spoke Spanish. At first I thought nothing had been done to the bike and then he said it would take 12 days once I paid him. Turns out he had straightened the left front fork which had received a slight bow in the accident. He was very proud of his repair job and showed me lots of photos of it being straightened. He also had to reweld a couple of lugs that held the plastics on. But he hadn’t ordered the new plastics yet as they were 1.5 million pesos ($600AUD) and was waiting for the money to order them. Fair enough. After a bit of a discussion we were able to organise that I would go and get the money and he would order the parts and then put the damaged plastics back on with clips, tape, and cable ties and I could leave Colombia and then on my way back through in 6 weeks I would go in and swap out the old plastics for the new ones. Great plan. But nothing is ever that simple.

It was a Saturday and I needed to get third party insurance, as it had expired. It’s called a SOAT. I found a place to do it but it was $350AUD for the year (with no part year options) and I had already taken my daily ATM limit to pay for the bike bits. So I couldn’t get it until Monday. I raced back to the hotel just before checkout, and was all hot and sweaty and said I would like to stay another night. Sorry. We’re booked out. I packed my stuff and left it at reception and wandered down the road to another hotel. Also booked out. And the next one and the next one. Turns out there was a big concert on, and the town was fully booked. I just wanted some aircon and to lay down for a while.

I went back to reception at my original hotel and used their internet and found a place online and then walked there. Sorry. We have no free rooms. We forgot to update the website. So off I wandered again. I can’t not tell a funny story because its embarrassing. Amongst the heat and the footpaths and the traffic I suddenly need to desperately go to the toilet. And there was nowhere in sight. I was really reconsidering some of my life choices. I tried to walk as best as I could to find a toilet. The bad news was that I didn’t quite make it. The good news was that it hadn’t leaked through to my pants. Yet.

And then I saw an Ibis Hotel. They were my favourite mid price luxury hotel chain in South America. I had to queue behind the hordes checking in and when I got to the desk with my fingers and legs crossed they told me they were booked out. I stepped back from the counter to think what to do and then the lady came over and told me that someone just phoned and cancelled, and I could have their room. She said it was expensive. But in my predicament, $120AUD sounded a bargain. And it was ready to go.

Sixth floor. Nice view. A lovely bathroom. Once I was cleaned up and did a bit of laundry, and the crowds has subsided I booked in for the Sunday night as well. I didn’t want to get caught out again. It was only $58AUD. Bargain. I took Sunday off and slept a lot.

On Monday I went back to the insurance place with the cash to buy my SOAT and apparently the bank the government uses was down and they couldn’t process the transaction. Maybe later today. Probably tomorrow. The guy took my money and my WhatsApp number and said he would text me when it went through. The hotel confirmed there was a bank issue with the government bank and so I checked in for another night. This time $72AUD? Turns out that even after the insurance is issued you have to wait 24hours before you can ride the bike. I also saw lots of these type of things in town that are wavering all over the place. And I had a couple of nice almuerzos (spanish word for lunch). It’s really the main meal of the day. You get a couple of choices and its a great price. There was a guy lingering around looking hungry so I gave him the piece of chicken from my meal. He devoured it. There was a discussion with the waiter and the guy on the other table and then a takeaway container came out and was given to the street guy. He sat on the wall and scoffed that too. Another homeless guy wandered past and the first homeless guy gave the other guy what was left of his take away.

After lunch I thought I would go and get my bike and luggage and bring it back to the hotel. But then apparently I had to have a roadworthy done on the bike because it was over two years old. We rode to the Roadworthy place and they said my bike was still within the two year period and therefore I did not need one. Finally a win.

So I paid, tipped, and thanked the guys for their work and for looking after my bike and gear for the six months and then rode off to the Ibis. Hoping not to get pulled over without insurance. It was only a 10 minute ride but felt okay. But also long enough for my first ride. Unpacking my stuff was an adventure. My riding pants, jacket, boots, and socks had been in a big green plastic bag for six months. They smelt good! I spent a couple of hours sorting and repacking my stuff. My insurance guy phoned so I went and collected that and now I was ready to leave. After one more night at the hotel. $68AUD this time?

I was glad that everything had taken a bit longer and I was able to set the bike up properly and was ready and keen to take off early next morning to cross over into Venezuela. I also finally got an Aussie flag sewn onto my pack and fixed the failed elastic on my tank bag and wallet. The guy was lovely and didn’t want to charge me for it. I paid of course and also gave him a one dollar Aussie coin which he was delighted about.

The Cucuta/San Antonio border crossing had been shut down for a few months for the entry of vehicles. I had heard of one person getting through 3 weeks ago and so I was hopeful. The next closest border was nearly 450kms to the north. At least a couple of days ride.