super bonita.

A love letter to Colombia.

By Black Sheep Cycling

August 15^th, 2018

july 1993.

Tour de France highlights. Sunday mornings, Trans World Sport on Channel 4.

I remember stage 15 of the 80th Tour: Perpignan to Pau in the Pyrenees.

Oliverio Rincón – from Duitama in Boyacá, Colombia – was the lone survivor of the breakaway, winning the day while Tony Rominger toiled with Bjarne Riis and Miguel Induráin further down the final climb.

september 2001.

The wall of a girlfriend’s bedroom at university.

Next to a poster of the Manic Street Preachers, she’d stuck a double-page article torn from a newspaper: 1,001 Books You Have To Read Before You Die.

Nestled in the top 10 was One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez. I bought a copy. I’d never read anything like it.

Over the next 10 years I gradually read through most of Márquez’s stories.

Colombia – the homeland of Márquez’s Magical Realism – felt like an intangible dream.

july 2017.

I quit my job.

Seven years hunched over a computer, cradling a telephone in the crook of my neck.

Sure, I’d been able to indulge in my passion – cycling – more than most. Pre-work rides, post-work races, weekends away, the odd training camp.

But the ennui of the day-to-day was sucking the life out of me.

I wasn’t made for this. I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but I knew it wasn’t this. So I quit.

I was ignoring the paralysing question of 'What next?' until a friend asked me exactly that.

We figured out that after I’d worked my notice period, it would be late October. Winter would be coming. So why not take a break? While the weather turns in the UK, get yourself south of the equator …

Colombia.

It hit me immediately. A place I’d always dreamed of but never actually considered travelling to. This was my chance.

•

By now Colombians were crowding out the result sheets in the World Tour. Urán, Gaviria, López, Pantano, Atapuma, Hodeg, Bernal, Anacona, Chaves, Betancur, Henao, Henao, Quintana, Quintana.

The Morton brothers’ Thereabouts 3 played a huge part. (This 70-minute film provided as much inspiration as 10 years of reading Márquez.)

At my parents' house I’d found an old copy of The New York Times. On the back page was an article about coffee production in Jardín, a small colonial town in the Andes.

I booked my flights.

Two months to discover Colombia by bike. (With a secret flexi-return ticket in case I panicked and wanted to return home, or fell in love and wanted to stay.)

•

I didn’t care about the whole drugs and violence thing. I’d read enough to understand that the country was a lot more forward-thinking than most people give it credit for. Yes, I watched a couple of episodes of Narcos.

In 2004, I’d visited Guatemala for a couple of weeks. The fear-mongering on chat forums had almost convinced me not to go. It turned out to be a wonderful, safe, trip. An important lesson.

october 2017.

I got lucky. I met John Polson from Black Sheep at The Man Ride UK. I mentioned I was off to Colombia. John immediately put me in touch with the owners of an apparel shop in Medellín: Bella in Sella.

december 2017.

The day after I landed in Medellín, Santiago from Bella in Sella picked me up at my Airbnb and took me on probably the most stunning ride of my life. We rode into Oriente, the region just southeast of the city.

We approached La Ceja – an idyllic colourful pueblo at the base of a dreamy seven-kilometre climb called La Unión. On the final turn into town, a huge billboard bearing the smiling face of Fernando Gaviria welcomed us. This is his hometown.

Later, after we’d climbed La Unión, we passed Rigoberto Uran out on a training ride. He recognised one of our group and gave a typical Colombian high-pitched whistle of acknowledgement.

This was my first ride in Colombia.

•

The next two months were a whirlwind. I covered thousands of kilometres by bike. Medellín, Jardín and the coffee axis, Alto de Letras (the world’s longest paved climb), Cali, Bogotá, Boyacá, and finally the Caribbean coast: Santa Marta, Baranquilla and Cartagena.

I met dozens of people on the road. 'Do you have WhatsApp? Are you on Instagram?' The Colombians want to connect. And they are desperately proud of their country. 'What do you think of Colombia?' They loved it when I told them I loved it.

Some people have said I was brave to ride around the country solo. Maybe it was just good fortune but I only met kind, encouraging souls on my travels. I’d say the Colombians were mostly bemused at this tall white boy on his bike.

•

Starting a cycling tour company in Colombia seemed like a no-brainer. The cycling culture is huge, the riding is second-to-none, the international interest is growing rapidly. This place is just getting started.

If nothing else, hosting cycling tours means I get to come back and ride.

I’d come with no pre-conceptions. I certainly didn’t think it would lead to a new business. I had given myself the freedom to do what I want. And Colombia has everything that I want.

•

P.S.: I did change that return flight on my initial visit. I stayed for two extra weeks so I could see the new UCI 2.1 race, Colombia Oro y Paz. I’ve never seen such passionate fans. The final day into Manizales (where Dayer Quintana took the stage and Egan Bernal won the overall) was unbridled, euphoric chaos.