100% Colombian

So we're primed and ready to spend 3-4 hours at the border to cross into Colombia - apparently that's the standard crossing time according to all other bikers we've met. Up early we make it to the border just before 9am. Some how, just before 10am we're through, possibly this had something to do with the rather camp border crossing guard taking a shine to Mike but I can't be sure.
It was a good thing though that it didn't take the normal 3-4 hours as although it was a beautiful ride to Popyan, our first night's destination, with all of the twisty roads, it was also a very long ride. Mike's GPS shows relatively straight lines between the villages and towns and my map wasn't much better, but looking back on where we'd actually riden, the GPS plotted a course that looked rather like a child had got hold of a crayon and squiggled out the straight lines.
Popyan is a nice colonial town and after a foot blistering hour walking around in his bike boots, Mike came up with one of the few places to have parking for two motos. Very basic but also very very cheap. This meant we had money to spare to try the local beers and rum. Ah got to love rum (these were straight with lime, I'm now onto the rum and cokes - a bit easier to take).

Our actual route is the dotted line. Not quite what WorldMap is showing.

With a slight hangover we head off the next morning, aiming for coffee country. We'd hoped to stay on a coffee finka - coffee plantation, not a coffee drinking philosopher with a lisp - which we should be able to book through the tourist office in Puira, unfortunately, we remember rather conveniently, that as it is Saturday, the tourist office is closed. Damn, another search for a hotel that has parking. However, this time we're not so lucky with the price or the parking. It's expensive, the guide book not helping by listing the two most expensive hotels in the entire city, and we end up parking in a parquedero.
You know when you get a feeling about a place and it's not a good one, well we got that about this place. Searching for dinner was a nightmare with loads of derilict people begging and drunks littering the sidewalks, arguments between the down and outers and loads of gambling dens. We got some nasty food - which is all we could afford - and holed up in the hotel for the rest of the evening.
Next morning things didn't get better. Thinking that we had only a reasonable distance to travel to Medellin, we had a slow start, being a Sunday and all. Stupidly we tried to pay for the parking before we'd finished loading up the bikes. What we didn't count on was being charged almost double what we'd expected. This lead to an argument and getting locked in the parking lot. Eventually the police were called and I have to admitt I was a little nervous at this point, but true to form, the two motorcycle police who turned up were gems. After a phone call to their superior, we agreed to split the difference of the extra charge for parking. Which, in hindsight, was fair enough. 'parque para noche - moto $4500' didn't come with any times actually listed but we were there for almost 16 hours.
A bit of the usual chat about the bikes, we ask how do we get out of town. Being a Sunday morning, these guys had nothing better to than give us a Police escort. Best thing about this one though was we got to ride in the bus lanes, down one way streets the wrong way and over pavements etc all with police authority and quite a few strange looks from the public. Saved us hours of getting lost and frustrated.