Based on what I saw here in the Czech Republic in last 3 months – after being gone for almost a decade – I had no doubt about which candidate will win. The change in politics, education, daily life has been minimal.

I think we need to realize that by voting a president A or B nothing serious is going to change for our country. Nothing is going to change by complaining either or posting Facebook post like this one. Facebook is a nice campaign tool, but the change needs to happen away from the virtual world. Clicking LIKE can make us feel better but changes nothing. Honestly even me writing this is pretty useless.

Betting on Milos Zeman

The only real change will take a long, long time and will only be done by our own hard daily work – being better at whatever we do. Our situation will only get better if we start being honest to ourselves first and then to others hopefully.

We will be better off if we will admit what our history is and what it is not. We need to know who we are as a nation and where we belong. We need to take pride of the good and responsibility for the bad in our history. As a nation we need to stop believing historical lies and have more balanced view of our past and our predecessors. We are ONE nation and we no longer need to pretend that someone is going to take it from us. This election showed again that we the Czechs are very confused about all this at best.

Although seeing Zeman back in politics makes me physically sick, I wish him the best and hope for the best for all of us. I will always believe that in the end “Truth and Love Will Prevail Over Lies and Hate”. Hopefully one day there will be a man up in the castle again that I can really proud of.

Hiking with Miguel

When I started my trip around Latin America I knew many unpredictable things would happen, but I never imagined I would lose a friend in a tragic accident.

It was a pure coincidence that brought me to ski-patrol course in Chile. At the beginning the only foreigner there was our French instructor. After first few lessons a new guy joined. His name was Miguel Angel. He was from Venezuela and you could never fail to notice him – among other things because he was about 2 meters tall.

We understood each other quite well.  It helped he spoke clear Spanish and not Chilean as the rest of the people. Also we were both foreigners and  we were older than most of the people who took the course. As we got to know each other, we learnt we had more things in common: beside the love for the mountains (for both of us our highest climb was Chimborazo at 6 thousand meters) we both traveled quite a bit, loved adventure and adrenaline sports. Miguel already traveled around Southern Cone in 2007 and I planed to go few months later. We both looked for a place to live in Santiago and since Miguel stayed in Chile before, he knew more about how things worked.

There were a lot of fantastic people trying to become patrolers but I quickly realized Migue was different. Maybe it was his Venezuelan warmth, his optimism and his enthusiasm for every possible outdoor sport. From the first day he talked about something called speedflying. I never even heard of this sport but I quickly got an idea. He wanted everyone to try it and he could not wait to fly himself . Almost every class break he would look at the mountain a tried to figure out from where he could jump and fly. However our ski patrolling course was  demanding and besides that he had to organize his new life in Chile and find a job. So it would take him a few weeks before he finally jumped for the first time.

My main motivation to join the ski patrolling course was to meet local people that love mountains and go exploring with them and maybe later that winter ski and snowboard together. So I was very happy when Migue organized few people and we hiked above Santiago. I had a great time on the hike. As we hiked he would think about flying a lot. “Ok, that would be a great place to jump”, he pointed one way and “that place would be even better to start a flight”, he pointed another direction.

When the sun came out he was happier

Few weeks later we celebrated Migue’s birthday. He turned 31. I was surprised how many people showed up and I had to admit to him that the Venezuelan rum he supplied was as good as he claimed it to be. The party lasted till early morning hours. He knew how to have a good time and I admired how someone who is about 2 meters tall can dance and not like a fool.

At the end of the month all of us – the ski patrol wannabees – had to go on an overnight trip. Miguel was in my tent group. We left Santiago and drove to the mountains where the first snow had fallen. I realized that he still quite did not get used to the cold of the southern hemisphere. In the evening as the temperature dropped and he was humorless and overall pretty miserable. As a Caribeño however he had a good reason to complain about negative temperatures. We cooked him a warm soup, some simple pasta meal and a tea. Even with that he was still not thrilled about being there in the mountains and freezing. He could not wait for this mini expedition to be over. Miguel barely slept that night. In the morning the sun came out. Now we were finally heading back. With every step towards the valley the temperature rose, with that his Caribbean blood started circulating again and back was his usual spirit. Half way down to the mountain he was the happy man again.

The last week of May the good amount of snow finally arrived to the mountains above Santiago. And Miguel Angel was not gonna waste the opportunity to fly this season for the first time. This is him on his third and last flight of that day.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=txdBy-nk1K4

Next weekend we were heading up to the mountains to ski. We were just a small group while most of the people wanted to study for our ski-patrol test. Felipe, Migue and I end up going. It was a wonderful sunny day with nice powder on the mountains. During the ride up Mique told us that he found a job and we talked about other things but flying was the main thing on his mind.

It was supposed to be perfect day. When we got to the mountain base, thing happened pretty quickly. We got out of the car. I needed to rent skis and get a lift ticket. Migue was not gonna ski with us and just fly. We did not really think about it. Ok, we said.  He got his things from the car and we set time and place for us to meet for lunch in couple hours.  Mique walked away. He needed to check flying permission  with the ski resort I believe. Me and Felipe had general idea where he was walking but that was all. He was sure about what he was doing. At least that is what I thought. Only later have I realized how idiotic this thinking was on my part.

Our day on the mountain started great. The sun was shining, the snow was great. Although the base of my skies quickly discovered that there were a lot of sharp rocks under the not so deep layer of fresh powder. This was super early season after all.

Around noon I got a call from our friend Cristina. Migue called her just before his first flight and said if he was not gonna call back in 15 minutes, she should call. I called Migue’s phone and there was no answer. We talked to ski patrol but it seemed there was nothing they could do at that moment.

We went back to the car and drove around the mountain to start looking for Migue. At this point I realize how colossally idiotic it was to have him leave without knowing where exactly he went. On the way up he showed us approximate place where he was gonna go, but that now seemed like that kilometers wide stretch of cliffs. We drove towards the place where he should have landed. I hoped to see him walking on a road. “Sure his phone fell out or something. That’s why he is not answering.” I tried to convince myself.  We drove under the mountain back a forth but saw nothing. We asked the Santiagenos on a day trip playing in a snow, but nobody saw anyone fly that day down the mountain.  We had no idea how far he could have flown. We run up and down under the cliffs where we thought he could have landed. I screamed his name, but the silence of the mountain was the only answer. I wanted to be really mad at him for not answering his phone. “Maybe his phone really fell out and he is already waiting for us at the lunch place”, I hoped. We drove back to check if he does not wait for us at the lunch spot already. He was not there. In my head I had about 20 scenarios of what could have happened. None of that really mattered. All I wished was to find him. We were now running again up and down under the cliffs. As I got higher on the mountain I realized how dangerous the terrain that from afar seems smooth really was. Besides that there was not as much snow as it seemed and definitely less than couple days ago that I saw in the video Miguel made.

After about one hour it was clear our search led nowhere and we called the police. We convinced them that something is really up. We wanted them to triangulate the phone, but for some reason they could not do that. It did not take long and there was a police helicopter hovering over the mountain trying to locate Migue. Then they spotted something that looked like a parachute. It lied about halfway down the mountain. Rescuers got to it quite quickly and yes it was Mique. There was nothing that could be done. As it got dark his body was taken down from the mountain. I cried and so did a lot of other people that made it to the mountain during the afternoon.

Late at night me and Felipe drove down the mountain. That morning the three of us came on the mountain and now only two of us are leaving. This must be one of the worst feelings one has to live through. I questioned if there is anything I could have done.

In a few days a mass was organized in Santiago. In a city that was not even home for Miguel Angel at least 100 people showed up. Migue’s dad came to fly him home. I talked to him. I know, I should have not leave Mique go fly alone. Later that week Miguel Angel was buried in Venezuela.

I never thought I would come in touch with speed flying again after that. It was only after Migue’s accident that I learned how dangerous it

The place of Miguel´s last flight

really can be and I was never gonna try it or be part of it. But…mere two months later I was in a shuttle to the mountain called Las Lenas in Argentina.  As we got out of the car a new friend I met put a speed riding parachute on his back and wanted to go to the remote side of the mountain. He was from Australia and was carrying the speedriding parachute for months on his South America travels and did not get any use out of it. I felt I dreamed a bad dream…. “Wherever you are going, I am going with you”, I told him.

We arrived to the spot from where he wanted to take off. There was a bit of snow and tons of rocks below where he wanted to fly and land. It was one of the last day of the season. The wind blew from all directions. He was determined to fly, I could not stop him.  The wind messed up his parachute once and then the second time. After two failed starts he gave up. We skied all day – it was a perfect ski day. I wish this happened two months earlier.

Migue left doing what he loved, but for weeks I could not stop thinking about how unfair it is that a great guy like him had to leave so soon. Now two years later I still think often about Miguel Angel. I wish I could have seen him thrive in his new life, I wish I could have gotten to know him better, I wish we could have shared our adventures….

I will forever be sad that he is not here, but I will always be glad that for about a month our lives have crossed. Thanks for that Migue!

Bike on the Caribbean coast

The roads might have deteriorated during the Chavez era but they are still in very decent shape. In addition the socialist president canceled all tolls so the roads are free and in addition fuel is doesn’t cost much either. To fill my bike with 12 liters cost me less than 20 US cents!!! One time I actually got the gas for free because the gas-pump attendant did not have any spare change – I gave him 20 bolivares bill and got the same amount in change back .

My ride in Venezuela started in Santa Elena de Uairén in the South. From here I took off to Roraima Table Mountain and I hoped to run to the top of the mountain in a day (Read: Running up the Roraima Table Mountain in one day)

Next I was off to Ciudad Bolivar and later I headed to the colorful fishing town Río Caribe. Here I explored the Caribbean coast before I decided to take a ferry to Margarita Island. Until I got to the Margarita Island there were very few tourists around and once I made it to the island I was surprised how few international visitors were here.  The island and the coast are absolutely beautiful and it’s puzzling how little interest Venezuela has in promoting itself as a tourist destination.

One morning when still on the Margarita island I decided to go for a ride around the island. Shortly after taking off I am about to pass the traffic light junction. I have a green light and suddenly I see a small SUV moving across my way. I recheck my light – still green –  and start breaking as hard as I can. I barely avoid the car but the bike goes sideways on the road and the back of my head slams the asphalt. I wear a helmet so I am good, but it’s one of a few times when I ride in shorts so I pay for that with a few scratches.  As I am trying to stand up  in the middle of intersection the car I just avoided keeps driving away. Few long seconds later policeman comes to me and asks that I take the bike away from the center of this intersection so the traffic can proceed. I check the bike and it seems it just got scratched but should be able to ride like normal. I can’t believe what just happened. Later some Venezuelans catch up with me as I am riding and wave me to stop – they followed the SUV. They say they stopped the woman and pass me her information. They tell me I should go to a doctor and have her repair everything on the bike. I take her information from them but since nothing major happened I never do anything about it.

Driving up the highest highway in Venezuela

Many Venezuelans recommended that I avoid the capital city of Caracas. I was told it was a dirty, chaotic and unsafe city. Yeah, maybe it is chaotic but its underground system was much more organized and clean than in many other parts of the world. Downtown during the day was fine and we even drove around at night in many parts. The park above the city had fantastic views and I definitely did not feel it was unsafe. Too bad many people avoid Caracas on their travels.

I had a blast in Caracas although I made a mistake of changing money with some shoddy people and almost lost 100 dollars. It all happened way to fast. They did switch my 20 dollar bills for fake in a split second and obviously changed their mind about changing my new set of bills for good rate. After I found what they did I went back a  negotiating a small return. I told them I knew what they did but would now be happy to get crappy exchange rate for the fake notes. Maybe not the smartest decision to go back, but it worked and somehow I got to keep one of their fake 20 dollar bills as a souvenir.

After Caracas I made a quick stopover at Battlefield of Carabobo and then drove up the winding mountain road to Merida in the Andes. The city was even more tourist free than most Venezuelan cities because of an ongoing H1N1 scare.  I wanted to hike in a nearby national park, but unlike shopping malls in the city the park was closed to prevent the spread of the flu. Fortunately I could laugh at the non-sense rule as I found some great hikes that were not part of the national park system.

From Merida I passed the highest mountain pass in Venezuela and then moved through Maracaibo to Colombia.  I spent quite a bit of time in Colombia before so this time I hang for a bit on the Caribbean coast, enjoyed colonial Cartagena for a few days and then headed to Medellin where my Colombian family lives. On the way to Medellin I had a blast at Planeta Rica – a small town that probably never sees foreigners – so it was fun staying here on the weekend and getting to know to locals. During the last part of the journey to Medellin I was unpleasantly surprised by the mountains I had to cross. The views were awesome but I was not prepared for this much cold and rain. Fortunately it got warm again in Medellin and I could get dry in my Colombian home.

I stayed in Medellin for over a month. From the city it was only a few hours drive to Turbo where the road ended and I had to start figuring out how my boat will cross to Panama (Read: Amazing Adventure: Crossing the Darian Gap with a Motorbike). After this adventure I was enjoying Panama while waiting for replacement of my credit card that someone in Brazil copied and used to buy children’s clothes.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vDLbE3aD-Wo

One of the San Blas islands

Crossing the Darian Gap was one of the most amazing adventures I have ever embarked on. Ever-since I decided that I want to ride my motorbike from Chile to Texas, I knew that the road does not go all the way and that I will have to figure out how to cross the jungle dividing South America from the North.

As I did more and more research I realized that there is indeed no way for me to cross on land. Some have tried and succeeded (learn more about it), but for me crossing on land was not an objective and I came to the conclusion that I will have to cross on the water.

The simplest way would be to board one of the gringo yachts that are taking backpackers pretty regularly between Panama and Colombia. These days a crossing costs about 400-500 dollars per person and the bike is being charged the same rate in addition. Generally I try to stay off the gringo trail and the price seemed little too high to me, so I kept on searching and left this option as a backup.

The ride in a small boat that my moto did not like all that much - mainly because the gas is leaking all over the place

Claude Saint-Pierre wrote up a decent guide how to cross on a slow boat from Panama to Colombia. That’s the way majority bikers travel, just a few go north. I figured if it’s possible to go one way I must be able to do it in reverse. Sounds logical, but in this part of the world logic does not always get one very far. After more research I became convinced I indeed could cross using cheaper and more interesting cargo boat. It was not clear however how much it will cost or how long it would take. The time was not my main concern, but price definitely was because for this trip the only payment accepted is cash and if you run out of it God help you because most likely nobody else will. I figured I should not pay more than what the gringo yacht would cost ($800) and took a bit less than that for the journey. Some of my money was in Colombian pesos, but majority in dollars that I wisely changed in Medellin instead of being charged ridiculous jungle exchange rate later on the trip.

I left my Colombian family in Medellin on Monday at about 6am and in the afternoon I was in Turbo from where cargo and fast boats are leaving to Capurgana (the last decent size town before one crosses to Panama). I asked how much the fast boat to Capurgana costs and was quoted 55 thousand pesos (about 30 dollars). My research suggested that I could not take a motorbike on this boat, but the guy selling tickets said I might be able to take the bike, but would have to pay for one row of seats which can be occupied by five people. That of course would be fairly expansive and I sure did not want to pay 330 thousand pesos ($180 dollars) to get me and the bike less than half way to Panama’s first road.

The cargo boat I took from Puerto Obaldia Panama

I started looking for cargo boats which I believe would transport the bike for 30000 thousand pesos ($20) or something like that. Unfortunately all cargo boats seemed to leave the day before and next one heading over to Capurgana was not going to leave for another 2 or 3 days. Nobody really knew exactly when they will leave and the boat owners were even less convinced about the time it would take them to get reach Capurgana. I heard anything from overnight to 3 days.

I did not want to wait in Turbo that long. I started looking for boats going all the way to Panama. In the past these cargo boats took people on board, but apparently that has changed and they are not allowed to have anyone in the boat who does not have a marine license.

With my limited options I went back to speed boat ticket seller to see if he could give me a better price. He said he could not, but the boat owner next morning maybe could. The boat would leave at nine in the morning, so I should show up at the office at seven to see what I can negotiate.

At 7:30am I went to talk to the owner and we negotiated the price of 200 thousand pesos and 20 dollars – since at this point I run out of pesos. He told me to go get some exit stamps at the immigration office that did not open until 8am. Quickly I figured he was just trying to see if more people would show up and he could tell me there was no space or I needed to pay more. I did not even bother going to the immigration and at 8:10 I told him immigration was taken care of and asked where I should bring the bike. He checked the list of passengers and since the boat was half empty decided he was gonna take my money. I paid what we agreed and asked for a receipt. I got one for 55000 thousand pesos. When I requested they write the full amount the sales lady marked that all my baggage is included. I accepted that, but about 5 seconds later I started to worry that I fell for some sort of scam. The lady left the office and the boat owner got into the boat and left the port. The only reason I was not completely desperate was that a) Colombians don’t usually scam tourist and b) some other gringo passengers leaving for Capurgana were waiting for the same boat in the port.

Kuna Indian village

Turns out the captain just drove out to fuel the boat. When he came back we loaded the bike. And I quickly learned that loading was not included in the fare so I had to give tips to a few guys. I only had a few pesos left so they looked little insulted. When we started boarding the boat guards tried to weight my backpack – most gringos pay for extra kilos, which don’t come cheap at all. This is when I pulled my ticket and showed them that baggage was paid for. After a bit of arguing the lady who wrote it on the ticket stepped in and said I really did not have to pay – after all I was paying for most of the boat already

Next sticky point was going to be passing through Armada checkpoint. I have been told repeatedly by various people that bike could not be transported in these speed boats. I figured however the rule is cargo ships can’t carry people, but people boats can’t carry whatever cargo they want. Still when we were waiting for about half an hour at the Armada checkpoint I figured that I will either have to bribe the officials or the captain will tell me he did bribe them for me and I will have to pay whatever he tells me to pay. I was worried for no reason, we just waited for two Argentinians who missed the boat and now were catching up with us.

Shortly before Capurgana the boat started to have problems with its engine. Then the engine stopped and I realized how huge the waves were. It was a nice calm day, but without the engine running the sea played with our boat like it was a toy. Some passengers were getting seasick. One Colombian asked me for orange pulp I was gonna throw away. Apparently chewing it helps seasickness. All I could think about is that if the boat flipped over, nobody would ever fish out my bike. They fixed the engine somehow and shortly after 1pm we were in Capurgana where only people willing to lift the bike wanted to see my dollar notes in advance. I gave them couple bucks, they started lifting it using the headlight and of course broke it. From the dock about 20 stairs lead up to the upper dock and so instead of paying more for lifting I started the bike and asked my new Argentinean friend for a gentle push and in about half a millisecond the bike zoomed up the stairs like it was made for bike trial.

I would have loved to stay in Capurgana for a couple of days. It really is a pleasant town with nice beaches and you can do nice hikes there (to Sapzurro etc.). I knew however that I needed to get to Panama’s side as soon as possible. I could not be spending money in Capurgana without knowing what I might negotiate in Panama’s border port Puerto Obaldia. For that I decided to spend just one day in this Colombian town/village. On Wednesday I headed to immigration to get my exit stamp. The Colombian papers for bike were expiring the next day – but nobody wanted to see them anyway.

The trip to Puerto Obaldia costs about 25000 pesos per person ($14). The best I could do was negotiate 100.000 pesos for me and the bike (about $60 dollars) and I also made sure it includes all the loading fees. They said loading sure, but unloading in Panama could not be guaranteed. If I had more time I could look around and find a better price, but this was gonna be a bigger boat – I thought. When I got to the dock I found out the boat was pretty small and I could probably ask any fisherman to drive me for about half of what I paid. The bike would not fit easily and had to be put sideways at which point the full tank of gas started leaking. In previous months I debated if I should transport it almost empty, but in the end I had no idea where I will get dropped off in Panama, so better with a full tank was my final decision. Well, that tank was not gonna be that full anymore. What was gonna be full of gasoline was my air-filter chamber as I found out later.

Lifting the bike from a canoe to the cargo boat

As we were approaching the shore I started to understand why they would not guarantee unloading in Puerto Obaldia. We did not land by a dock, but on a shore. Lifting a bike from a boat that is getting hammered by sea waves is not that much fun. Fortunately some locals helped out and when the bike was on the ground, of course, started asking about their dollars.

In Puerto Obaldia I immediately began requiring about cargo boats that go towards Colon. It seemed that they left just the previous night and who knew when next one would come. I found fairly nice hotel on the ocean. It did not have electricity but unlike my dirt-cheap “hotel” in Capurgana had running water. “For $6 a night I could spent a few days here without messing up my budget”, I thought while drying the air-filter soaked in gasoline.

Suddenly a green boat showed on the horizon. The hotel owner told me that it is a cargo boat and a big one. For sure it will go to Colon. I got pretty excited! I waited for it to land at the docks but it did not come to the docks. It seemed that the docks are broken or not fully finished.

I found the boat owner at the immigration desk instead and wanted to chat with him. I first asked for a price per person so he could not quote me some ridiculous price for me and the bike. The going rate was 70 dollars with all food included. He did not know how long it would take to go to Carti, which is where he said I need to go. From there there is a road. When I mentioned my bike he grinned, dollar signs flashed in his eyes and said bike was like a person so the same price for it. I followed him around the village as he greeted all his customers and friends and in a spare second he gave me his attention I tried to see how we could lower the price. In the end we came down to $120 and I made sure it includes loading and unloading. He guaranteed both. Unloading was gonna be easy, but to load the bike was gonna be tricky – the docks indeed don’t work. I should be ready at 7am next day.

My home and "bed" for a few days

I pulled my bike to the shore at about 8:30 am. I waited till about 10:30 when a small canoe came to the shore. Two guys who came were strong and the canoe had more space so the loading was actually easier than the last unloading I did day earlier. As we paddled towards our cargo boat I could not stop thinking how much pain it will be to lift the bike. Before we started lifting I had to stop them to take a picture. There was a possibility that the bike might be going for a swim.

Two guys pulling the bike from the top of the boat and three of us lifting the bike from the canoe. The canoe wiggles on the water, moves away from the boat then someone pulls it back closer. The bike is scratching against the boat but it is moving up. The break handle is getting bent, something is in the way and we cannot pull it over the corner. Wait lift here. Oh, yeah. The bike is one the boat!

After the lifting drama the life will be very tranquil for next few days. No reason to ask when we will be in Carti or how long we will stay where we are. I can almost see how time has slowed down and how hours suddenly don’t mean much. On one island we sell food, on other we collect debt, on another island we collect about million empty coke bottles. You can be in the middle of nowhere, but you can’t escape Coca-cola. We stay at one island for two days, no idea why, not sure if anyone does.

The food is basic – rice mostly, potatoes sometimes and something simple with it: canned tuna or a fish someone caught. I have books to read, when I start the third one – the crew thinks I am a reading champion. They don’t read. They prefer music on their mp3 phones. I listen to conversations of our crew or other crews: how taxes in America are bad, how local police are idiots, how customers always have excuses not to pay debts on time, how one can pass for one’s cousin to go on a date with a girl… I am not in rush. I paid my fare and if I get to my destination tomorrow or in one week does not make the least of a difference.

FINALLY ON THE SHORE!!!!

It’s Monday evening – my fifth day on the boat. One sailor is telling me that I can see Carti from the island where we are docked. The road passes right trough those mountains. We will spend the night here. Oh wait we are moving. We we will be in Carti before sunset. Turns out that Carti is an island and so from there I will have to take one more boat before reaching the land. No more boats I want to scream! Before I go sleep I overhear one of the sailors that he asked around and they want to charge me $40 for crossing. “To hell with that”, I say to myself. I will wait on the island all day if I have too, but I will not pay more than twenty bucks.

In the morning the a small passanger boat pulls to the dock. When I talk to them they want thirty dollars to cross. In the end we agree on twenty with everything included. Loading is easy and I don’t allow them to put the bike on the side. After 10 minute ride unloading is tougher… there is tons of people on the docks but I already got used to the fact that nobody offers help around here. Somehow we manage to pull the bike up. It got scratched here and there but it’s on the mainland. After all the gas leaks and moving it around let’s see if it will start. It did! Now leaving port $1, leaving the indiginous reservation $10. One hour later I am on Panamerican Higway and heading to Panama City. I am in a different world: I see a famous red and yellow sign. Nothing could contrast more the last five days on the boat. I am stopping at McDonalds for breakfast.

Transportation Cost:

Turbo – Capurgana $130 (or 240.000 Colombian pesos)
Capurgana – Puerto Obaldia $60 (or 100.000 Colombian pesos)
Puerto Obaldia – Carti US$120
Carti island – mainland US$20
Passing through Kuna indigenous reserve: US$10
Total: $340 (does not include hotel stays and food except food on cargo boat from Puerto Obaldia to Carti)

Simple steps for crossing from Colombia to Panama:

1. Get to Turbo. Almost impossible to do any leg work previous to getting here.
2. In the port check price for a speed boat to Capurgana – can they take bike as well? For how much?
3. Check if you can find a cargo boat that will take the bike to Capurgana. Should be a fraction of what the speed boat people will charge you.
4. Load the bike and head to Capurgana. Wait here for your bike to arrive if it is not on speed boat with you of course
5. Get exit stamp from Colombia here. Take scheduled boat to Puerto Obaldia or hire your own boat.
6. Get Panama entry stamp in Puerto Obaldia. Do temporary import for your motorcycle here at Aduana – its free exept few cents for copies. (have the Colombian copy of the temporary vehicle import with you. Don’t throw it away when nobody asks for it in Colombia)
7. Wait for cargo boat willing to take you to Carti. Be prepared to take up to a week or maybe longer. You might be quoted all kinds of $$$.
8. In Carti hire a boat to drive you across to the mainland.

Tip: Simple and cheap hotel in Turbo is called Florida – few meters from the port. It has useful administrator Jhon Botero who have seen all sorts of people and vehicles cross.

Roraima is the mountain on the right. At this point about 15km away I think. But last few km's are bit vertical as you can see

Running up and down Venezuela’s Mount Roraima in one day seemed like a crazy idea but soon became my only option. Most people take almost a week to do the hike and everyone says you need a local guide to go up. I could not find reasonably priced tour or people willing to share the cost of a guide so I bought a hiking map, bottled water and camp food for a week. With that I headed from Santa Helena towards Roraima Mountain to see if I indeed could do the run.

I arrived in Paraitepui, the last village before the trail to Roraima, at about two in the afternoon. I negotiated the nightly rate of 120 bolivares (approx. 15 dollars black-market rate) for a night in a cabana without electricity and started to look for a trail that would lead to the mountain. It took me a while to figure out which way the trail goes but in the end I thought I had an idea.

While doing my terrain scouting a local park ranger approached me to ask where I was heading. I assured him that all I was doing in the area were some day hikes. He said that was fine and I did not need a guide for that. Of course he could not assume I intended to do a “day hike” to Roraima’s top.

To make it to Roraima's top - which is normally done in 6 days - I have to run or walk very fast

By the evening I was convinced I could run up towards Roraima. I was not sure if I could make it to the top, but it did not matter. I could always turn back after few hours. Without electricity it was easy to go to sleep at 8 pm. I needed to hit the trail long before sunrise.

At 4:30am my alarm clock woke me up and soon after that I walked out of the village. It was dark. Dogs were barking at all the houses I passed. The only light was coming from the military patrolling the village entrance. I could see pretty well in the dark and preferred not to use my flashlight, I did not need any extra attention. There were some people moving in front of me. Minutes later I caught up to them and found out they were some Venezuelan hikers. With huge backpacks they moved much slower then I did. I wanted to run, but it was dark and the road too slippery.

At about 5:45 there was enough light and the road straight enough that I could run. From unclear hike times mentioned in the Lonely Planet guide I figured it normally takes about 15 hours of hiking time to the top. Based on that I need to be about 4 times faster than a hiker with a heavy backpack. That did not seem impossible. All I was carrying was food for a day, extra pair of shoes and my wilderness first aid kit.

First riving crossing was not a major challenge

I realized my time was not too great when I got to the first campground. Lonely Planet said it took about 4 hours to get here and I only got here at 7am – I was less than two times faster than hikers. Not that promising! As I passed the campground about 50 hikers were waking up and I got some surprised looks. One guide asked me where my guide was – I was too busy running and decided not to answer that question. Shortly after the camp came the first river crossing. I put my river crossing shoes on and in seconds I was on the other end. Minutes later I run up to the sign displaying some rules about the Cainaima National Park. I did not mention anything about the need of a guide. I felt better.

At about 7:30am I was at the second river known as Kukenan. This crossing was a bit more challenging. Here the water sometimes is high and Lonely Planet said you need to rent a boat to cross sometimes. The water was not that high and there was rope to hang onto. No problems. I was at the altitude of 1050 meters (3 444 ft.). From here it was going to be only up until I got to the top at 2700 meters (8 858 ft.).

The waterfall I had to pass under

It was still early and I did not meet any hikers on the trail. I kept running, but soon I switched to runwalking. At 10:15 I passed the last campground at 1870 meters. It was only 4.5 km to the top, but I need to get myself 830 meters (2 723 ft.) higher. From here it was impossible to run anymore. In fact there was more climbing than walking involved I would say. The trail started so steep that I was not sure if I was on a trail or climbing a waterfall. Only once I started meeting hiking groups coming down the mountain I was certain I actually was on the right trail. Some Brazilians told me they took about 3 hours to get down. For the first time I actually believed there was a possibility I could make it to the top today and come back.

In the morning I set my return time to noon. I felt I was getting close to the top so I pushed my return to one o’clock. I knew that I had to cross rivers during the daylight, but the last portion of the run could be done at night. If I crossed rivers by 6pm then I would be fine. I kept on climbing up. No other guides or porters coming down asked me about my guide. Maybe they thought that my porter must be behind me since I had just a small backpack.

At 11:15 I was under what I thought was the last part of the wall. I was only 100 or so meters from the top. Vertical meters. Who knew how long the trail was. And why did the trail seem to level up and go down when I needed to go up!!!

At midday I crossed under a waterfall. This sure must be the waterfall on my map that is so close to the top, I hoped. At this time I was extremely tired and soaking wet. With all the preoccupation about the climb I did not realize how drastically the weather changed. It was sunny at the bottom, but now all I could see was fog a water dropping everywhere. When crossing under the waterfall I was worried that the water might bring some rocks down as well. I gathered a bit of energy, ate a chunk of chocolate, drunk a last bit of water from my first of two 1.5 liter water bottles and run under the waterfall.

Finally - THE TOP!

After the waterfall I could not run anymore and even walking I had to take frequent breaks. Was I gonna make it? I had to be so close…. Finally I saw a colorful structure that sure most be marking the top. The structure turns out was a crashed helicopter still this was indeed Roraima’s top!

It was shortly before 1pm when I found a rock to hide from rain, changed my clothes and started my celebratory lunch of tuna with corn wrapped in delicious tortilla. It was great being on the top and I wish I had more time to explore it but I knew I had to get back the same day and going up was only half way. So dry and refreshed after my 45 minute break on the top I started my descent.

As I headed down the rain got heavier and heavier. What was a path on the way up turned out into a little stream or waterfall. Sometimes actually these streams and rivers were not that little. In any case there was no way I could run. I had to walk very very carefully.

My descent was slow. At 4:15pm I finally got the the bottom of the steepest part and from the last campground under the mountain I was able to run again here and there when the water filling the trail was not so deep and surface not too slippery. There was a lot of noise coming from somewhere. I did not pay too much attention to it and then suddenly realized that the loud rumbling and roaring was coming from the stream next to the path. If the calm stream where I washed my face on the way up turned into a small river what will the river look like? As I was coming down I decided that if I can see the rope I will cross even if that means I will get soaking wet. Just in case I started to look for places where I could spend the night. I could not find any rock or tree offering even a bit of shelter.

Lovely lunch... oh, I was so hungry... and cold

At 5:30pm I was at the river crossing. Excellent timing – except the river was uncrossable. The river was brutally strong and loud. Whitewater rafters would call it IV or V – meaning if you kayak or raft down it you might die. No way I was gonna attempt to cross!

All my clothes and everything in my backpack was soaked. For the night I would have to use my emergency blanket that I never had to use before. But where was I gonna wait till the water comes down? Fortunately there was a little indigenous hut and a few Brazilian spelunkers and Venezuelan hikers who got stranded on the shore as well. They saw me on the way up and invited me under the roof and shared a warm soup with me. I even got a dry shirt from a Venezuelan couple. One of the Brazilian guys had a spare place in his tent so I could inaugurate my emergency blanket there. Humidity in the blanket and feeling every stone under me was not that great but it was not the worst night of my life – especially considering the alternatives

River Berfore and After - At night and next morning

When I woke up I heard no river noise and was told a good news: The river is low and we should cross as soon as possible. So at 6:30am I was on the shore of a calm river that did not look anything like the crazy river from the previous evening. Crossing it was a breeze.

I continued my run and little bit after 9am I was back in my cabana. Nobody seemed alarmed that I did not spend last night here. I wanted to leave the same day, but was too tired. Instead I decided to enjoy another day near the Mount Roraima – the mountain that did not let conquer itself in just one day. It’s always the mountain who sets the rules and one has to respect that.

Amazon boat on which we spent about 6 days

My original plan was too cross Amazon from Belem,arrive to Macapa on the opposite side of the river and take the road from there towards French Guiana then continue via Surinam and Guyana, cross back to Brazil and continue up to Venezuela. When checking this on Google Maps it did not seem like a big deal.

Soon two problems emerged. First crossing Amazon would take at least a day or two and second the road to French Guiana was almost impassable for most of they year. I checked some pictures and videos and saw that this road had up to half a meter of mud in some places. Ridding a bike through it would really be tough and with my little Honda maybe impossible.

Crossing the river from Brazil’s Oiapoque to French Guinea will be easy once the bridge is build, but its completion was still few months away. I was not sure if anyone will take my bike across the river for a reasonable price.

The coastal highway across the three countries I had to cross seemed decent but from Georgetown in Guyana the road was not good and this time of the year maybe passable with a lot of problems.

Bike waits to be loaded

Beside the uncertain road I also found out I would need visa for entering Surinam and Guyana each costing over 40 dollars. I could get these in French Guiana’s capital Cayenne, but it would take days and while waiting I would be spending quite a bit of Euros.

Also it was unclear what paperwork I would need to do for crossing bike across these borders. It seemed like a big adventure, maybe too big for me and the bike at the moment. I was going to decide in Belem when I see what it would cost to cross Amazon this way.

In the mean time I checked if maybe taking a boat from Belem to Manaus would be less complicated. From Manaus there was a decent road to Boa Vista and from there to Venezuela’s border. Many travelers take the boat and live on it in a hammock for number of days. After my ride from Colombia to Peru on Amazon in a speed boat I was certain I would not enjoy that many days on a slow boat. I decided to check this option just in case.

Taking bike from Belem to Manaus has been done many times before and so I only needed to get to Belem to see what prices they were charging these days and compare them with overall cost of my planned route.

I asked for the prices in the port, on the street and in a few travel agencies. It turns out taking me and the bike to either Manaus (thousands kilometers away) or Macapa just across the river would cost almost the same. It did not take me long to see that going to Manaus will be much easier and cheaper overall. It was Monday and next boat in that direction was leaving on Tuesday.

Not that much privacy on the boat

In my hostel I found out that the boat for Manaus leaves from Port Marques Pinto, so on Tuesday morning I headed there to make sure a middle man was not ripping me off. After a bit of searching I found the boat that was being loaded and went to talk to the captain. We agreed on the price of 150 reales for me and 150 for the bike. While on the boat I quickly made friends with some Chileans and put my new hammock next to theirs. I asked them to watch for the bike in case they were going to drop it into the river and headed back to my hostel for the rest of my stuff. The boat was leaving at 5pm, so I enjoyed the day by walking around Belem. I wanted to limit the time on the boat to an absolute minimum.

I got to the boat a 3pm and it was already pretty full. My hammock was squeezed between two others and my Chilean friends said there was nothing they could do to prevent this. Next to me a baby started crying and vomiting all over the place. They went to go to see a doctor. It was time for our boat to leave and I figured we were waiting for the mom with a baby to come back. I seriously doubted any doctor will let a baby that sick travel on this sort of ship but the mom with her sleeping baby came back and we headed out of the port Belem at about 7pm. Five days later we should be arriving to Manaus.

Stopping for a few hours in Santerem - About half-way to Manaus

The days on the boat were not as bad and as slow as I feared. I was comfortable in my hammock and started reading my first book in Portuguese. We formed a big Chilean group: Claudio and Cristian are from Chiloe and travel around South America in a WV Kombi. There is a family from Santiago who travel around the continent for a year with their adopted daughter. And a couple of future doctors from Concepcion who are backpacking around South America before they will dedicate their life to medicine. Me and my Chilean bike fit perfectly into this group.

The food on the boat was pretty decent and it got even better when Claudio cooked for us. The bathrooms that are supposed to be horrible are actually ok – that is if you accept that a toilet and the shower are in the same rusted little space.

After three days we make a half day stop in Santender and I realize that I am enjoying the ride and more than anything I am extremely enjoying the company of all the Chileans. I don’t care that the boat will take a day longer to arrive to Manaus.

I am sad to leave my new friends when we arrive on Monday, but I know that Claudio and Cristian will catch up with me once their WV Kombi either in Venezuela or in Colombia.

The "special" place where my bike stayed during our journey

On the way out of port I am asked to pay disembarking fee of 20 reales that I thought was bunch of crap. In a split second I decided that two security guys were not gonna hold me for ransom. I started the bike and to the horror of the security pulled away without paying. I was back on the road again. The sign above the highway showed that Caracas was only 2250 km away.

3 easy steps to follow to get a bike and yourself from Belem to Manaus:

1. Check what prices a person is getting charged for the trip between Belem and Manus. Do this at your hostel, a travel agency and in main port in Belem.
2. The bike price is not set and so every agent has to verify with the captain. Prices can vary quite a bit, so get a few quotes.
3. On the day of the departure go to the port from which the boat is leaving and negotiate the best price with the captain and load your bike on the boat right there. (or get the bike on the floating platform which follows the tide – they might want to load your bike last).

Finally, road toward Venezuela!

Tip: Loading will typically be much easier at high tide, so check when that is to be there at that time. Loading at low tide can cost you extra since it gets more complicated to lower the bike.

Note: Check that nothing is above the bike – the tide might still be rising and you don’t want your bike get crushed.

The ports from which the boats were leaving in 2011:
Tuesday: Port Marques Pinto
Wednesday: Port Rodrigues Alves or Port Tamandare
Friday: Port gate 09-10 (I think this is the main port downtown)

Base prices given by agents in 2011 (bike portion can be negotiated down):

Macapa (the other shore of Amazon river):
Moto:150 BRL
Person: 100 BRL

Santender (about half way to Manaus)
Moto: 200 BRL
Person: 100 BRL

Manaus:
Moto: 280 BRL (directly with captain 150 BRL for my small 125 ccm Honda)
Person: 150 BRL

My bike looks like new again. Thanks to these guys!

Brazil is a huge country. It’s hard to understand how huge it is until you cross it on a small motorbike . Yeah, there is a reason why Brazilians more than any South Americans take planes to travel… That said crossing this country was a spectacular experience. I am fluent in Spanish but not in Portuguese, so this definitely was an added challenge. My favorite part was stopping at random roadside motels where they hardly ever see any foreigners and eat at all-you-can-eat buffets whose only advertising was tons of cars and trucks parked outside.

Crossing Brazil means crossing most of the continent but also few very different cultures. The affluent and very European-like South had very little to do with the North. I was glad I could acclimatize to this country by staying a month in Rio studying a bit of Portuguese and learning what I could about Brazil.

If there are two things I will remember most about ride through Brazil they would be never ending roads as I already mentioned and omnipresent rain. Brazil is green for a reason and I had to dry my clothes too many times not to understand it now. During this process I learned that motorcycle is an excellent drier. I am just wandering what other drivers though when my wet clothes and shoes were drying off connected to the handlebar.

Here is a short video-essay about crossing Brazil:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zc8WaGAxNjw

View Larger Map

Bolivia: Riding on the dirt / sand road not so much fun

After leaving Lake Titicaca I drove south to Uyuni Salt Flats with a little detour to modern city of Cochabamba. The dirt road to Uyuni was well over 100km but was spectacular although little scary because this part of earth really is an isolated and sometimes lawless place. From Uyuni I headed on a semipaved road to Potosi and then to Sucre where I stayed for a few weeks studying Spanish.

After Sucre I rode to Santa Cruz. Here I had to take the worst road anywhere on my journey and I suffered a small accident that could have ended much worse than just with a broken light. After Santa Cruz the roads were vastly better and so I had more time to appreciate surrounding countryside and “enjoy” hundreds of butterflies crashing into me while ridding .

Road to Paraguay’s border that according to Lonely Planet was already finished really WAS NOT (local military told they think one day it might be finished). Fortunately on a bike asphalted portion was more or less passable although one had to get around obstacles that construction company put on the road to block traffic while they are working on the road. In Paraguay the road was nice again and the 40 C temperature did not feel that bad while riding a motorcycle. Although passing Christmas in empty Asuncion made me feel a bit melancholic.

My new friends I met in Gualeguaychu - summer town outside Buenos Aires

In Argentina I made some biker friends so I was not forced to drive into somewhat chaotic Buenos Aires and pay expansive parking there. I was in Bs. As. for New Years and I was able to spend it with my Austin roomate Mauro and his friends eating some excellent asado and drinking some good wine. Without much sleep next day I went to enjoy the start of Rally Dakar. In neighboring Uruguay I felt almost like I was in Europe. I really enjoyed my short stay in Monte Video and spent a bit of time on a few beaches but I was getting excited about crossing to Brazil. I had 3 days to pass 2000km and look for an apartment in Rio where I was gonna stay for a month with my mom.

Watch my video essay from this portion of the journey:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-fURu7_p-Q

My bike shortly after I bought it

Before coming to Chile I thought about buying a car so I could easily travel to various ski resorts in Chile and Argentina. I never bought a car, but my research was helpful when I decided to buy a motorcycle and take it from Chile to Texas. I found few resources but nothing overly complex, so that’s why I decided to write this guide.

Buying a vehicle in Chile is easier than anywhere else in Latin America. It is also cheaper, you don’t need local resident to do it for you and there is no corruption or other shady business involved in the process. You can take the vehicle outside of the country much faster than you would be in other countries.

This is how it’s done: (for quick scan of the process go to the table with clear steps at the end of the article)

First you need to look for a vehicle you want. I wanted to buy Honda or Yamaha motorcycle, so the Chilean websites of these companies were a good start. Later I went to see the bike in department stores because they were closer than the dealers that are typically in Santiago’s suburbs. After a brief research I figured that buying in the department stores was more hassle than going directly to the dealer.

Buying a vehicle

Tuesday 14.9.2010

Certificado de Inscripción also known as Padrón (left temporary, right definite mailed in 2-3 weeks)

So to the dealers I went. I soon found out that if I paid in cash I was able to get better than advertised price or had extra things (helmet for example) thrown in .  The bike had the price advertised of 699.000 pesos, but The Honda’s dealer Pro Circuit on Vitacura Avenue gave me the offer of 650.000 pesos (about 1200-1300 USD) and they had the color I liked. So I paid the money, got my invoice (5 copies, one more than I was told I need) and waited for the bike to be inspected.

The inspection was going to last a few hours so in the mean time I looked in nearby stores for a decent helmet. I realized while I spent a lot of time thinking and researching bikes I devoted no time at all to learning about helmets. I tried a lot of cheaper helmets on and bought a Portuguese made NAU helmet. I figured unlike many Chinese makers these guys probably have some basic safety standards they follow. The helmet cost me about 50.000 pesos ($100).

Couple hours later I came back to the store. This time I was given Honda owners manual and warranty (1 year, 10000km with road side assistance in Chile).  My bike also came with free maintenance at 1000 and 3000 km. I was given a very short demo of the bike. At the end the sales guy asked me if I knew how to ride a bike. Good question that I did not answer because I was not sure myself.

After 15 years of not ridding a motorbike I dove into Santiago’s heavy afternoon traffic trying to find way back to my hostel and re-learn how to ride… Not the best decision, but somehow I made it to my provisional home safely that night.

During the buy I was explained by the salesman that the first week I can ride the bike without plates; with an invoice only. Later I learned that technically you can only ride without plates from the dealer to your home. But there is a bit of confusion about this and your success of ridding without the plates will depend on the policeman that will stop you. Without plates you are certainly more likely to be stopped than with them, so I decided to proceed as quickly as I could to get the plates on. After all my newbie ridding  technique was probably suspicious enough.

National dance Cueca at Registro Civil office in Santiago

Registration

Wednesday 15.9.2010

Next day I took my invoices, passport, my chilean tax ID  called RUT (I obtained it earlier) and went to register the bike at Registro Civil. Here the process was smooth and quick. I got my provisional registration (Solicitud de Primera Inscripcion) and my plates. I even got to see folk performance of Cueca national dance here.

Once I had the registration, I went online and bought obligatory insurance known as SOA. There were couple companies and I decided to go with Megallanes. I paid 36000 pesos, which was not the cheapest but it was easy enough to get online and I knew Megallanes is a real company.

I did not have a drill or any necessary tools so later that afternoon I found a mechanic shop full of drunken guys in one of the poorer neighborhoods. Here I had my plates installed for less than few thousand pesos. I speak decent Spanish but half the time I had no idea what these guys were talking about .

Next day, I thought, I was going to complete the last piece of the bureaucratic process and get my bike completely legal on Chilean roads.

Homologation papers missing

Thursday: 16.9.2010

Homologation (Certificado de Homologación)

On Thursday I was going to get the Circulation Permit (Permiso de Circulacion). However I found out, I was missing essential piece of paperwork from the dealer know as Homologacion. Turns out I did not understand the dealer needs to get this from the importer and it was gonna take a few days. Since this was the last day before a long weekend in Chile, it was clear I was not gonna get this before my planned trip to the Chilean coast.

I decided to ignore this piece of paper and ride the bike the whole weekend. If I was gonna get pulled over, I planned to pretend I spoke no Spanish and did not know what Permiso de Circulación was.  After all my bike was registered and insured, so I did not feel that bad.

To be honest I am not sure if I could talk myself out of a bad situation if I got pulled over. Fortunately police did not stop me  and I happily logged a few hundred kilometers around Viña and Valparaíso.

Finally Homologation Papers Arrive

Tuesday 28.9.2010 (yes, 2 weeks after I bought the bike)

It turns out getting the homologation took much longer than I ever imagined. The dealer kept saying Honda importer had too much work and was not able to deliver it to them.  After bunch of angry phone calls the guy from the dealership finally delivered the green piece of paper. He was nice to bring it at 10pm to my hostel.

In the future I would not buy the bike without getting  the homologation at the time of buying or with a clear promise I was gonna get it next day or day after.

Getting Permission to Circulate

Wednesday 29.9.2010

With the homologation in my hand I was finally able to complete the last step in the process. In the morning I rode to Providencia municipality office and got my Permission to Circulate (Permiso de Circulación). To get that I had to show my passport, rut, insurance and temporary registration. So two weeks after the sale my bike was finally allowed to ride in Chile.  At this time I logged about 1000 km already, so it was time for the first free checkup at the dealer.

Leaving Chile

Some people might tell you you don’t have to wait for the permanent certificate of inscription and that it is possible to leave with the temporary one. An employee at Registro Civil tried to convince me about this but I do not believe this to be true.

If you are crossing to Argentina they check your vehicle in the computer. If you have not received permanent certificate you are not in that database and I don’t see how they would let you leave Chile and enter Argentina.

Better way to speed up the process would be requesting special processing which I was told might be possible. You need to ask for it during initial registration or later email special request to the director of Registro Civil. If you plan to stay or travel in Chile for a few weeks you don’t have to worry about processing times too much because in 2-4 weeks you should either get the certificate in your mail or be able to get a printout at any of many Registro Civil offices.

International Insurance

If you are trying to insure a car you should not have any problems. Insurance companies, many of them in big department stores, offer international insurance for neighboring and Mercosur countries for period up to 1 year. This insurance is not cheap but you can get it.

However the longest motorcycle insurance I was able to find was for maximum of 30 days and was fairly expansive. In order to cross to Argentina you need this insurance. It’s checked at the border but if you decide to overstay validity of your insurance that’s your problem. Once in Mercosur nobody ever examined my insurance while crossing borders. First place I was forced to buy insurance was in Venezuela.

Following this process I made it to Colombia so far. I logged over 25000km. From here it’s about 5000 km to my final destination Texas.  I will be happy to answer any questions in the discussion.

Some useful links:

• Hubb: Buying or swapping bike in Chile
• E-How: How to buy a car in Chile
• Lonely Planet Forum on buying car in South America
• How to avoid Santiago tolls (TAG) (If you don’t want to get one)

Simple guide to buying a vehicle in Chile:

(If anything is out of date, please speak up in the discussion and I will be happy to fix it)