May 22. Tampa-man
At the border with Costa Rica, a connection to San José is waiting for us. It's business as usual: we get through the immigration smoothly with our western passports where some locals are thoroughly checked. The immigration takes some patience, but after two hours we can continue our voyage. The Costarican countryside we drive through ...
May 20. Entering Panama.
When I wake up and climb out of my sarcophagus berth we have already anchored. We've arrived at mainland Panama. Mainland! We stuff our luggage in the dinghy, row to the dock and strap our backpacks back on. I talk to a strongly tattooed girl on a big Katamaran. She has just introduced herself overzealously ...
May 11. El gato negro.
In el gato negro you can have an excellent breakfast with real Columbian coffee prepared in a German way. The place is run by a worldwise grey-haired German lady, who manages it on her own. The place is open from 7am till 2pm and you can recognize it by the black cat on the door. ...
May 9. Weary Cartagena.
I slept long, had breakfast with cheese bread, and wrote.
I went to eat something in old town, and wrote.
I went back to the hostel, and wrote.

"Some entries just say that he wrote."
-"Yes, it's boring, I feel like he is giving up."
"What do you mean, giving up?"
-"Like he's not ...
May 5. Identity.
A little hangover can be worked off by four cups of coffee and a cold shower. At twelve I'm good to go and walk out to find a boat that will take me to Panama. Enter: Club Nautico. I walk in and ask some people for a boat to Panama. There are plenty of sailors ...
May 4. Aguardiente.
At 5:30am the bus to Cartagena leaves. It will take almost the whole day and I enjoy the Colombian countryside from the comfortable bus chair. Why don't we make up more proverbs ourselves? Let's found some institution for the creation of new proverbs. After so many busrides...

I arrive in Cartagena, the port town ...
May 3. Visiting a Cathedral.
Cali didn't quite seem the place to be. A giant terminal from which I could look over a foggy modern city. Walked around a bit, found out the ATM didn't work and decided to go to Manizales, the capital of the central coffee growing region. A good cup of coffee is what I neee. That ...
May 2. The excitement has gone.
We take a bus to Tulcan near the Colombian border. The cemetery here is famous and for good reasons. They have a Christ on the cross cut in the hedge. I really like that Christ cut in the hedge, he looks so friendly. And a lot of animals too. We walk around that cemetery and ...
April 30. Quito.
The bus takes me straight to Quito where I contact my couchsurfing host. She agrees upon me bringing a Norwegian girl that wants to try the thing out. That Norwegian girl didn't fall from the sky; I met her in the bus to Quito her name is Anne. She has been working with young children ...
May 1. Full being.
We say goodbye to Anne, who goes to the Galapagos with her sister, and take a taxi to the place where the bus to Ibarra leaves. Transportation issues, as usual. I think it was on the bus that I see some old guy peeing in a chopped-off plastic bottle and then pouring it out of ...