Leaving Cartagena, after three days rest, we finally started travelling south. As usual, the roads were relentlessly winding and Colombia threw in a few million potholes to keep me focused on the road. You can miss the majority of potholes but some are unavoidable and the bike clatters each crater very hard. I try to give Susan warning but sometimes it’s quite a surprise to her. She takes each shuddering well. I do think it’s a testament to my good riding that she hasn’t lost any fillings. Yet!

Of more concern to me are the sleeping policemen. No not the ones I used to work with (sorry for that pun) but the speed bump ones. Every small village, every small town, every place the school bus stops, every bridge, every marketplace, every ….. You get the jist – they’re every bloody where! I estimate we bump over 60-80 each day.

Some are yellow, some are not. Some are obvious, some are not. They never work alone and each one requires slowing down to first gear. I kid you not I’ve even experienced them on 80 kmph roads before a corner and on a dual carraigeway just over the brow of a hill. Treacherous.

Our first stop after Cartagena was Monteria. We had booked into the fancy GHL Hotel and arrived hot, absolutely knackered and emotional. Just another day on the bike in Colombia.

The hotel was attached to a shopping mall on a very busy street with no parking out front. I wasn’t in a ‘wonder what I’ll do’ mood (remember I’m hot, absolutely knackered and emotional) so I ran the bike straight up the nicely paved guest area immediately outside the front glass doors. I mean immediately outside.

Unfortunately, my confrontational mood was completely disarmed by a member of staff. I had just put down the kickstand and was looking for the person who was going to say “you can’t park here, sir” when ‘first class bell boy’ magically appeared, smiling with two glasses of iced water!

He didn’t even show any emotion when Susan dragged off her helmet, hair everywhere, red sweating face looking like she had been wrestling a bear in a sauna. Yes, it was like a scene from Halloween but ‘first class bell boy’ kept smiling through it all. What a trooper!

He then guided Susan to reception where she sat down and now had a cool flavoured drink. I’ve no idea what it was because I was still outside in the heat dealing with the panniers. As long as Susan is okay in the cool who really cares about me? Well I tell you, ‘first class bell boy’ did!

I may have been temporarily abandoned by Susan who was only caring about herself and her cool unknown flavoured drink but ‘first class bell boy’ took the panniers inside and then jumped on to the back of my bike. “I will guide you to the parking” he said as he tapped me on my shoulder and said “lets go”.

He guided me around the back of the shopping mall where parking guy sorted me into my personal spot. Honestly, with this level of service from ‘first class bell boy’ for a fleeting moment, just a fleeting moment, I considered leaving Susan and her cool unknown flavoured drink, riding on and heading for Ushuaia with ‘first class bell boy’. Wouldn’t you?

We then anticipated the issue of getting the heavy panniers back to the bike in the shopping mall car park the following morning. Do you know the solution? Of course you do! – ‘first class bell boy’ changed his shift and started an hour early to assist.

That night we had a cocktail on the rooftop bar as the sun set. A toast to ‘first class bell boy’. May all your bell boys be ‘first class’.

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