As my muffler had cracked and melted my seat (making for an uncomfortably warm ride) and my tire had become warn enough to make driving in the rain dangerous, I decided to go to the same mechanic (Mr. Bike) as Torben. While driving there with Torben on the back the bike started slipping – as if the chain were jumping on the sprocket. The next morning I looked at the sprocket and all the teeth had been shorn off by the chain. So with the Mexican mechanics admonition to check the cam chain (he said it was loose) I took the bike in again and today learned that my cam chain was so loose that the mechanic wouldn’t let me drive the bike away. I count myself very lucky as all these problems have occurred just in time as I’m in Medellín which by most accounts is the last good place to get bike work done until Chile or Argentina – which are more expensive.
Torben, Micha, and I went out for a pub crawl in Medellín in the fresa/trendy/yuppie Parque Lleras area near the Casa Kiwi Hostel where we are staying. It took us through the trendy young bars around the park until we decided to go a little lower to the more real neighbourhood bars surrounding Parque Poblado. After a few more bars we ended up in a pitch black disco where Torben helpfully suggested to a girl that was dancing with him that I might like the company of some of his friends. For the next hour I had a short and plump 20 year old grinding against me – as is the fashion in casual dancing with strangers in Colombia. Most of this seems like a direct prelude to having sex – although that part was left mercifully unclear last night.
While walking in the center, Torben and I ran into an old short man who spoke US-style English who regaled us with tales of how the quality of the cocaine has gone so downhill and if someone offered him the same as it was before he didn’t care and would do it in front of all these people (we were standing on the main downtown pedestrian street crowded with people) and I believed he would. He also said he loved Medellín and had been to lots of places as a drummer in a rock band around the world but even with guerillas, plastic bombs in public squares, and gun fights (now over) Medellín was still one of the best places in the world.
Silicone. An inordinate number of women in Medellín are artificially enhanced. Usually they have extraordinarily large and perfectly formed breasts that they display prominently. In other cases they have bum implants that when combined with breast implants and extravagantly false eyelashes make them look almost caricaturish. When I went to buy earplugs (to dampen the all night parties at the hostel) I was offered the usual options along with a small medicinal pack of four silicone chips. Though the turned out to not tend to stay in my ears they have been compensatingly amusing.
Money and skin colour. The white skin distortion field is scarcely intact in Colombia. In Mexico having white skin offers a number of advantages. You are generally accorded more (undeserved) respect, access to people, events, and offers of various descriptions that aren’t given to those with darker skin. In Colombia, without a ton of tourists, and seemingly a better general level education having white skin just largely makes you a curiosity.
















Thanks for the pictures!
Your last comment prompted me to take more, probably too many today because it was quite beautiful. I’ll upload them in the next few days.
Torben ? He sounds Danish, no ?
Still following your blog with great interest. Stay safe down there!