I went back to the roads, and after exhausting ride of few days I arrived at the Caribbean coast of Colombia. There, I found the lost city park of Teirona and enjoyed a few days on the beaches that made me feel like" Caribbean survivor"
But despite it all, my mind was not resting. I knew that my time is limited, less than a weeks my Colombian visa ends and I have to find a way to leave Colombia.
It was easy if I could just cross the border to another country. But the only place where the road from Alaska to the southernmost point on the American continent is cut off at the border between Colombia to Panama – The durian Gap.
Unlike conventional tourists who go sailing or flying I need to take the motorcycle with me, which ups the crossing fee, to one I could not afford…
I arrived in Cartagena, a colonial city developed in the past served as a major port for the transport of goods.
I started looking for a way to move the motorcycle to Panama.
Everyone I spoke to told me that it was not possible to find affordable passage for me and my bike. They all directed me to pay their expensive fees.
My mood began to deteriorate and I lost my energy that was needed to keep looking.
The last option I have is to put the bike up for sale.
I had 3 more days to leave Colombia.
And there seemed to be no way to get out.
I kept searching.
On one of the marinas, I convinced one of the employees to take me with a small boat to search. We went and asked every boat in the port if they are going to Panama and would be able to take me and my motorcycle.
Then we got to an old European fishing boat, the only one that we hadn’t tried. I jumped in and talked to the crazy dutch captain.
“you know what I just bought this ship, and I haven’t got to sail it yet, but LET’s GO TO PANAMA”
The next rainy morning, we loaded the bike on a small motor boat, and together with five other port workers we stabilized the boat until we reached the ship.
The crazy Dutch captain picked up the bike with a manual lever into the boat. Final preparations and the anchor is raised...
Suddenly, I'm sitting and watching the view of Columbia steadily decreases as we sail into the endless sea…
I glanced at the bike and he looks back at me. Only the two of us can understand...
And laugh…
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Topic: My tales From America Del Sur (Read 8307 times)
