I can almost smell Ecuador and the smell is sweet. I have stayed longer in Colombia than I planned, a consequence of what I can only call fascination. Colombia contains many absorbing views and the country in general has been more than generous to me.

I do not really want to leave Colombia. There are still more places to visit, more things to do, more people to meet and more food to taste. In general, Colombia has treated me nice, apart from one idiotic robbery of my more than valuable mountain boots.

Heading towards San Agustin from Tierradentro, a friendlier and more quiet place is hard to find, I did the unusual and traveled without wearing my mountain boots. I always travel with them on my feet, as they are big, they take up too much space in my backpack and they keep my feet warm if a bus is very chilly. Throwing my backpack up on the roof of the car, I thought nothing of it, but arriving in a small town where I needed to transfer, I surprisingly discovered that my boots were gone. Some sort of mountain midget are now stumbling around in the mountains with shoes the size of canoes strapped on his feet. However idiotic this must look like for whoever gets the chance to witness it, I can’t do anything else than curse the stupidity of the robber. This kind of meaningless crime is so useless and without any connection to my world and I am just lost for words about this. You could just ask for money, you ignorant bastard. I need my shoes and apart from my camera, they are the single most important item in my backpack. How the hell am I going to climb mountains now? In my slippers? I don’t care if you don’t have money - it doesn’t give you the right to just snatch my fortune. Idiot.

On my way to Ecuador, reporting this to the police, was a different story. Realizing how stupid it must have seemed for the policemen writing my report, I had to laugh as I told them "I want to report some stolen shoes. It is for my insurance". "What country are you from, Señor?", the officer replied. "Norway". "Tell me - do you have insurance for shoes in your country, Señor??". The look on his face as he asked me this question, made me realize how stupid this whole scene actually was. But to me, $300 boots that I spend 2 days finding is a big deal. Especially when I know I will climb high mountains in the countries to come.

Even though Ecuador is less than 200 km away, the roads that would bring me there stretched over approximately 340 km. In hindsight, this was probably the distance as the bird flies. The trip was divided into two parts - two times 170 km. I knew the first 170 km would be done in less than 3 hours, but I really couldn’t understand why people told me that the last leg would take about 8 hours. They must be mad, I thought.

Being stuffed into a crowded bus, with too little room for my relatively long legs and broader than the Latino average shoulders, I tried to find comfort the best I could. Sleeping is a preferred activity on these trips but my longing for dreams suddenly terminated as the whole bus seemingly exploded in a series of bumps. Thinking nothing more of it, I kept my eyes closed and continued trying to shake hands with the Sandman. As the bus continued to shake I opened my eyes and to my surprise, we were heading up a very steep mountainside. This can’t be right? I am going to Ecuador, not seeking refuge in the mountains! Getting a glimpse of the huge mountain ahead of us I finally realized, probably far to slow, that I was on a long - in fact a very long ride to the next town. I also realized, somewhat slower, that I was on a bumpy - in fact a very bumpy road as well.

As my whole body were thrown in any direction imaginable, trying to hold on to the seat in front of me, the man next to me or the rest of the chair, I cursed my stupidity for taking "a shortcut" to Ecuador. Shortcuts normally mean that they are not prepared for the vast majority of people. In the pure nature of the word, a shortcut means that you cut corners. And believe me - corners were cut. I have never ever in my whole life had so much trouble just trying to take a sip of water. Trying to locate your mouth with the top of a bottle, with every limb and part of your body shaking uncontrollably is an effort that I know can be hard getting used to. I have gotten a short glimpse of Alzheimer’s and I am not really looking forward to the time when and if that disease strikes. When trying to adjust my glasses, for them to rest more comfortably on my nose, with the result of poking my eye, the next 7,5 hours seemed like a lifetime. Amazingly it seemed to me, that the whole bus were sound asleep. How on earth do they do that? While I was spending more time hanging in the air, most people around me were drooling on their shoulders, talking in their sleep, snoring and dreaming pleasantly. This is a trick I need to learn, because they definitely killed time with this performance.

Most things about this trip amazed me, though. The peoples ability to enter a state of coma, the narrow winding road, again the sights of the Andes and how small but fat these people really are. I was very uncomfortable in my seat and I had no chance to correct it. Driving up the steep hill, I couldn’t really just jump off and take the next bus. With no bus stops and very little traffic, I just had to silently cry with my unjust situation, but what stroke me later was that in this situation I was actually feeling, breathing, suffering and tasting Colombia. This is what the Colombian people do most of their days. Shut up, Knut and enjoy it how painful it must be. You are just overly privileged and no one feels sorry for you. India and Bolivia is worse, so you better get used to it.

Around every twist and turn on the road, lurked the grim reaper. The thing that amazed me by far the most on this trip, was the driver. I didn’t know if I should have been scared shitless or let the driver amaze and impress me with his skillful driving. Maneuvering this large monster of an old American bus on the narrow, battered and graveled roads of the mountains were either a sign of pure stupidity, pure courage or pure skill. For a second I wanted him to drive my future car in the World Rally Championship but I really wouldn’t want to find out if he was excelling in either stupidity, courage or skill. Hopefully it was the latter.

To be continued …