Sasaima

This morning started with a simple plan: buy a melon for breakfast. What could possibly go sideways?

Well… everything.

As you know, we cycled our way to Sasaima for an ecological symposium. What we didn’t know was that today, we’d somehow become the event.

We found a nice park in the town center—perfect for melon consumption. As we scoped out a good bench, we noticed some official-looking people setting up for the symposium’s afternoon kickoff.

Curious about what to expect, I approached them to introduce ourselves and ask for an itinerary.

“Oh! You’re the cyclists from Nevel Zealander?!”

Before we could blink, a woman named Breanna materialized. An American with the Peace Corps, she had been plucked from her English-teaching duties to serve as our impromptu interpreter.

Breanna then invited us to meet her students, and we enthusiastically agreed.

What followed was a fun, interactive session where we found ourselves in front of a lively classroom, entertaining questions and likely inspiring a few future adventurers.

Then back to the park, where things escalated quickly.

We were handed official symposium t-shirts. Then came the photo ops. Lots of them. Even with the mayor. We smiled, nodded, and tried to look like we knew what was happening—all while having absolutely no clue.

The rest of the day unfolded in a whirlwind of introductions, meetings, and being escorted from one person to another.

By afternoon, we were in a formal discussion with the mayor and other officials about the future of tourism in Sasaima.

By evening, we were whisked away to our accommodations—an unexpected but charming mix of fish farm, bird-watching retreat, restaurant, and BnB.

After a day of unexpected stardom, we collapsed into bed, buzzing with excitement for what tomorrow might bring.

Oh, and that melon?

Still untouched.

This morning, we were up at sparrow’s fart. Actually, even earlier—we beat the birds to their own wake-up call, all in pursuit of one thing: café tinto.

With our coffee fix secured, we set off on a dawn wander through the bush, hoping to spot some feathered locals. Our stroll led us to Greg, our American neighbor, who turned out to be a kindred spirit. Years ago, he had cycled from Alaska to Ushuaia and tackled countless other bikepacking adventures.

He tipped us off about a route from Sasaima to Cali that includes the world’s longest climb—a monstrous 4,150m ascent. Our eyes lit up. Now that was an idea worth chewing on!

After birding and breakfast, we made our way into town for a morning of conferencing. The lineup of speakers was impressive, but even with our fantastic translator, Laura, the details often eluded us.

Honestly, this seemed to be the theme of our entire Sasaima experience—we never quite knew what was happening, but we were along for the ride!

Laura eventually sneaked us out for some fresh air, but before we could fully enjoy our moment of escape, we were summoned back. Apparently, it was our turn to speak. A little heads-up would have been nice, but hey—winging it is part of the adventure!

By afternoon, we managed another escape, this time for something far more up our alley: soccer with Brenna and her school kids. We arrived early, so she roped us into a Q&A session with her English students, which turned out to be a blast.

Then it was game time—an all-girls match, with teachers and students giving it their all on the field. Sooo much fun!!

Wandering back into the town center, we found the atmosphere buzzing—music, laughter, the kind of lively energy that makes Colombia Colombia.

We sat with our two new friends, Brenna and Laura, soaking it all in. Maree was in the mood for a beer, so we grabbed a six-pack and passed it around.

And then…

Next minute!

The Mayor of Sasaima, Patricia, was suddenly drinking with us. And just when we thought the night couldn’t take a wilder turn, a bottle of Nectar (Colombia’s notorious white spirit) appeared.

It didn’t last long.

Luckily, our ride back to our hotel arrived just in time, cutting short our brief foray into Colombian politics (and potential hangovers).

And just like that, another unexpected, unforgettable day in Sasaima came to a close.

Another early start—this time, we had a cycling date with the Mayor.

We were told it would be a short ride, followed by breakfast. Sounded simple enough.

When we arrived, there was a solid turnout—local Lycra clad bikers, us, and Patricia, the cycling mayor herself.

The ride kicked off with a climb (of course it did), and it quickly became clear that most of these riders were fast-lap sprinters, while Maree and I were more of the slow-burn endurance type.

We held our own.

At the top, we had a water break and an impromptu photoshoot (naturally)

Then, back on the bikes.

Sometime later later, we stopped at a small shop. And then… out came the beers.

Yep, even Patricia was in on it—actually, I’m pretty sure she had two.

Fueled by hydration of the questionable variety, we carried on. The energy was fantastic, and the ride was a blast.

We stopped again at the first water break spot, where fruit was now on offer—and, you guessed it, more beers were cracked open.

Patricia really knew how to cycle!

Back in town, one last photo op—and then, just like that, it was over.

Lunch was next.

After some post-ride refueling and attempting (and failing) to figure out what was happening next, Maree and I made the executive decision to retreat to our accommodation.

We were sticky, dirty, slightly buzzed, and, to be honest, a bit peopled out.

Some time out was definitely in order

This morning was about as cruisy as they come. For once, we didn’t need to be anywhere at sparrow’s fart.

We weren’t getting picked up 'til 10am… which, in true Colombian style, turned into 11:30am. No worries though — we spent the extra time spinning yarns with the lovely crew at Aquafish.

They were keen to sharpen up their English, and we were having a good crack at our Spanish. A bit of back-and-forth on life in NZ vs Colombia, with a side of environmental chat thrown in.

Good humans. Good kōrero.

Eventually, we got into town and caught up with our mate Laura — who was, as usual, trying to figure out what the heck was actually going on.

Still vague. So we did the sensible thing and buggered off for lunch.

When we wandered back, turns out the closing ceremony was already in full swing.

Next minute, there we were — lined up for another photo op with the legendary Mayor Patricia. Apparently, that was our official role in the wrap-up!

With the formalities out of the way, Laura invited us back to her whare.

We'd clicked with her, and it felt like hanging out with an old mate.

That evening, Maree and I cooked up dinner for Laura and Breanna — a bit of wine, heaps of laughs, and some good-as yarns.

Those two wahine are bloody inspiring, and it was pretty special to share space and stories with them.

We kicked the day off with an epic breakie cooked by Laura — fresh arepas and eggs, served with love. Maree paired it with her trademark camp coffee, and boom, we were away laughing.

Today was a day of mixed feelings.. The legs were keen to ride again, but the heartstrings were tugging — saying goodbye to Sasaima and our new mates wasn’t easy. The connections we made here ran deep, and it was tough pulling away from the place, and the people.

One last squeeze for Laura and Breena (those two gems!) and we were off — straight into a hill climb. Classic.

The plan? Roll on about 11km to take up Jose and Jaime’s offer to stay at their Finka.

And what a welcome! We rocked up to a pack of dogs — three big excitable goofballs, one wee cartoon-looking pup, and two smiling blokes ready with open arms.

Their finka is a slice of paradise. They’d whipped up a lush lunch for us, and we sat around talking and eating, all excited with the company we were sharing.

Later, they took us exploring — part walk, part bush bash, part river splash. It was a wicked way to see the land they call home, full of laughs and dodging the odd thorn bush.

Back at the house, out came the Nectar (yep, that fiery Colombian drop again). We spent the evening chinwagging, sipping, and laughing until our cheeks hurt.

And to top it off — a real bed, our own room. Pure luxury!!

Not a bad way to transition into the next leg of our journey.

“Track cutting! We love track cutting!”

Honestly, we were like kids in a lolly shop.

After another top-notch brekkie — team effort, good feed, full bellies — Jose handed me the weed eater and let me loose. I was fizzing.

These fullas have a fair whack of land to keep under control, so we offered to muck in. Me on the weed eater,

Maree and Jose raking and trimming like pros. It was satisfying mahi — everyone grinning like cheshire cats, covered in sweat and plant bits, living the dream.

And then… boom! I made a discovery.

Flax! Or what looked exactly like our good ol’ harakeke.

Maybe it was its Colombian cousin, but it gave me a wee buzz all the same. Add that to the list of things to investigate when I’m not covered in grass clippings and wielding power tools.

After three solid hours of graft, Jaime laid out another stunning meal — the man’s a wizard in the kitchen.

Just as we parked ourselves to eat, the skies opened. Absolute buckets.

The rest of the arvo turned into one of those blissful lazy, rainy afternoons — the kind where the sound of rain on the roof makes your eyes droop and your limbs go heavy.

Bit of a snooze, a light dinner, and then — surprise — another snooze. Can't argue with that.

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit. Autem dolore, alias, numquam enim ab voluptate id quam harum ducimus cupiditate similique quisquam et deserunt, recusandae.