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Published: December 28th 2006
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A knock on my door. I stir in my bed. As I rise to greet my mysterious caller I speculate on who it could possibly be. Scarlett Johansson perhaps, clutching a 38mm spanner, a couple of onion bhajees and a copy of the latest edition of Private Eye? My imagination continues to outpace all logical probablities as I visualise her handing over these precious treasures whilst whispering in a breathless voice loaded with festive anticipation "Excuse me these are for you Mr Pushonnorth"...
A large cockroach scurries past and pauses momentarily to shake its head, it is almost as if its feelers can read my rather optimistic thoughts. I open the door, it is a nice old man. Although he is wearing a black shirt and a large crucifix around his neck for some reason he does not strike me as being particularly religious. "Queiro Orinar" he brightly announces. I thank him for this information and inform him that the bathroom is in fact just along the corridor.
How far I have fallen in such a short space of time. Last month beautiful women pressed delicate morcels of food to my lips. Now old men just want to piss
Pigeon
This pigeon on the window of my apartment is one of the few inhabitants of Cartagena who didn't try and sell me anything. on me. His mistake, if indeed it was a mistake, is forgiveable. My lodgings in the Buena Vista, Chirique Grand, Panama were rather spartan.
Since Sincelejo I have spent a week in Cartagena. An undeniably beautiful city. However the ancient colonial buildings are marred by a constant barrage of hawkers relentlessly trying to off load every conceivable type of service and commodity. Haven't encountered this kind of unwanted attention before and after a few days it became too much. Still was good to meet up with my friend Ian and engage in air conditioned conversations on a wide variety of profound topics whilst enjoying glasses of rum and Cohiba cigars.
Departed from Cartagena on a 50 foot sailboat named the Seeadler. Skippered by a German couple, Guido and Sylvia with lots of tattoos and a dog. They looked a bit like the nilhists in the Big Lebowsky. Despite their laid back exterior Ian correctly predicted a more authoritarian regime would emerge. At sea people are scolded for diving off the boat in the wrong place etc. I fell from grace by accidentally breaking a wooden bench tring to sit down in a rough sea. Am not a natural
Ian
What does it all mean? Ian and I spend a thoughtful week musing over life's deeper meanings. sailor and after two day crossing, most of which I spend lying down in an attempt to retain the contents of my stomach we reach the San Blas Islands. After a day of scheduled frolicking around we sail on again for El Porvenir.
At El Porvenir after passing through customs we officially enter Panama and wait for a motor launch to take us to Miramar on the mainland, where the road begins again. From Miramar it is a couple of days ride to Panama City. On the second day as I leave the coast the road gets busy and ugly (pass 3 MacDonalds).
Arrive in Panama City and spend a couple of days at a nice hostel, Zuly's (Calle Ricardo Arias in between The Hotel Continental and the Hotel Marriot). Had my back cracked by Joric a heavily tattooed Philippino. Panama is an interesting bustling mix of a lot of different cultures, Chinese and North Americans alongside Latin Americans (failed to find Indian restaurant but apparently there is one). Push on over the Bridge of the Americas and the Panama Canal then ride for 4 hot, flat long days across Panama and reach the city of David. Pause
for 2 days to recover in the seductively coloured Purple House. V nice hostel run by Andrea from New York where everything, except charming little dog Fluffy, is of a purple hue (including toilet brushes) (www.purplehousehostel.com).
Then rode over Continental Divide and into Costa Rica and banana country. Spent Christmas day in Puerto Limon, Costa Rica avoiding trucks full of bananas and pineapples and watching episodes of Last of the Summer Wine.
Anyway tomorrow heading off towards Granada in Nicaragua. Then its Honduras, possibly Belize and then Guatamala before lining up to take on Mexico.
Belated Christmas Greetings and a Happy New Year to everyone. Sorry no poetry this time. Seem to have left the creative passions that guide that particular part of me in the Andes.
Just a reminder that I am riding for Medecins Sans Frontieres. If you would like to sponsor me please visit my website, www.pushonnorth.com for details on how to make a donation.
Push on
Tim
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