After 5 days at sea, with no internet connection, no cell phone, no attachments to the world outside the 30 meter vessel we sailed on, it was amusing to see how many people rushed to their computers to connect to the worlds they had left through emails, facebook and posting on blogs. I had all of these to attend to. I know I signed up for weekly or more updates, but when the day came to catch up on the computer, I had not interest to get back to it. It was more important for me to attend to the needed bike maintenance since Oscar had been sitting in salt air for the past week. So at the hostel courtyard, I pulled my KLR apart, finally inspected the petcock (which looked fine), changed the oil, lubed the chain, checked tire pressure, tested the battery and scraped some rust off the front rotor.
Then, A walk around the old colonial town was in order to stretch the legs a bit.
After a day at the hostel with everyone from the boat, half were planning on leaving on Friday. That happened to be one of two days the entire month that motorcycles were not allowed on the road. We thought we might be exempt since we were foreigners, but one rider found out that morning it was not the case. A group of 6 had to get a police escort to leave the city.
Another group of 6 of us left the following day and headed north to Riohacha on our way to the Venezuelan border. The happening thing to do on a Saturday night in this beach town: sit in a plastic chair that lined the sidewalks in front of the beach, buying cold Club Colombia cervezas from a lady with a cooler and watch the night go by.