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Cycling South America

Brief summary

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This post covers the adventures, mishaps and thoughts of an 8-month trip across Latin America. It covers (but is not limited to): falling in love, getting robbed, tacking endless hills, jungles, deserts, high elevations, every weather condition you can imagine, taking ayahuasca (probably the strongest psychedelic known to man) in the Amazon rain forest, paragliding, getting kicked out in the middle of the night, learning to surf, seeing the Milky Way with my own eyes, exploring ancient ruins and local Amazonian tribes.

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Leaving the familiar world behind

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Flying to Bogota, Colombia

The adventure began on day 1 (1st of Feb 2023), I had to get my massive bike box to the Leeds bus station, inside the bus and eventually the plane. Aside from the 2cm gap in the Heathrow airport elevators, having to throw out my helmet and first aid kit to meet the weight limit and sprinting through the airport, everything went relatively smoothly. I was pretty much unconscious for the ~10h flight thanks to my friend's sleeping tablets. The lady sitting next to me once my head propped up from a right angle looked like she just witnessed a resurrection.

My luggage and bicycle box got taken off the conveyor belt while I ran around the hall looking for an ATM that wouldn't charge me $7,000 for taking money out. Took me a trip to 3 ATMs before realizing that the $ logo signifies pesos not dollars. The 7,000 pesos charge ended up equating 1.84 American dollars.

The oversized luggage was also a magnet for an overly enthusiastic security man who wanted to see the box go trough the scanner twice on it's way out. He didn't speak any English and with my months of Duolingo practice, all I could muster up was "No entiendo. Soy cansado." (I don't understand. I am tired.) It was 4 am after all.

I built my bike outside of the airport while security security teams took shifts overlooking my shoulder and laughing at me while I defended myself from eager taxi drivers willing to take me anywhere in the world. I cut up my bike box, crossed my heart and left to cycle across the busy streets of Bogota, Colombia.

"I miss my friends, family, job and a place to live. What the fuck am I doing with my life" went though my mind many times as I was dodging trough 4 lanes of traffic gasping for air. It turns out that 2,500m altitude will take some getting used to.

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Colombia: Where Everything Changed

Colombia wasn't just another country on my route - it became the heart and soul of my entire journey. The combination of breathtaking landscapes, genuine hospitality, and life-altering experiences made it impossible not to fall in love with this misunderstood paradise.

Mountain view in Colombia

‍The steep climbs were worth it for views like these. Each pedal stroke higher into the Andes revealed another layer of Colombia's beauty.

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Unexpected Hospitality

My first encounter with Colombian hospitality came when exhaustion forced me to check into a small hotel. What started as a simple need for rest turned into an impromptu party with the family who ran it, lasting until 1am. This wasn't a one-off event - it became a pattern that defined my Colombian experience.

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Just another "quiet night" at a Colombian family-run hotel.

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Life on the Road

Some nights were spent in less conventional spots - like catching sleep in a road bend, praying that drivers stayed alert. The compensation? Nature's own light show overhead. Between these adventures, I'd find spots to edit videos and handle freelance work, balancing the nomadic life with the need to fund this journey.


My five-star accommodation with a million-star view.


The digital nomad life - editing videos from wherever I could find power.

The Mountain Hostel That Became Home

Then there was Lady Gloria's Hostal de la Montaña. What was meant to be a three-night stay turned into two unforgettable weeks. Gloria's care and hospitality were unmatched in all of Latin America - she didn't just provide a bed, she created a home.

Lady Gloria's hostel - where strangers become family.

El Trampolín del Diablo

They don't call it the "Devil's Trampoline" for nothing. This infamous stretch of road earned its name through a perfect storm of treacherous curves, heart-stopping drops, and conditions that would make even experienced drivers think twice. On a fully loaded bicycle, every meter became a lesson in physics and faith.

El Trampolín del Diablo - where every turn tells a story, and every story tests your nerve.

Unexpected Connections

The beauty of cycle touring isn't just in the landscapes - it's in the people you meet along the way. There's something magical about sharing stories with strangers using broken Spanish and wild hand gestures, yet somehow understanding each other perfectly. Some of the deepest conversations I've had were with people who didn't speak a word of English.

Language barriers dissolve when stories are shared from the heart.

Taking a well-earned breather in Pasto.

Architectural Wonders and Simple Pleasures

The Las Lajas Sanctuary stopped me in my tracks. Built inside a canyon, this Gothic-style church looks like something straight out of a fantasy novel. But between these grand sights, it was often the simple pleasures that made the journey special - like discovering new local snacks that became instant favorites.

The breathtaking Las Lajas Sanctuary - a neo-Gothic marvel in the canyon.

These became my daily fuel - still don't know their name!

The Final Stretch of Colombia

As I approached the Ecuador border, I experimented with different ways to carry my ever-growing collection of gear. Sometimes I had company on the road - brief encounters that made the journey less solitary. The border crossing itself was a milestone - the end of my Colombian chapter and the beginning of new adventures.

Sometimes the best conversations happen on two wheels.

Testing the limits of what my bike could carry.


Crossing into Ecuador - goodbye Colombia, you've changed me forever.

Living with the Cofán: Deep in the Amazon

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Just after crossing into Ecuador, an unexpected invitation changed the course of my journey. Taita Gonzalo Criollo, the shaman who had guided me through two previous Ayahuasca ceremonies, invited me to stay at the Comunidad Cofán Dureno. Here, I also met @jellecdv, whose presence added another fascinating layer to this already surreal experience.


Taita Gonzalo Criollo and his wife, guiding me to their boat-access-only community.


"Probably eat them" - casual Amazon life when dealing with crocodiles near children's play areas.

Life in the Amazon

The scale of everything in the Amazon is different. The trees reach impossible heights, and what might seem extraordinary elsewhere is just daily life here. Take the crocodiles in a bucket - where I came from, that would be headline news. Here, it's just Tuesday.

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The largest tree I've ever encountered - the Amazon's way of showing who's boss.

A Home in the Jungle

Taita's house became my home for several days, shared with his wife, seven children, and numerous grandchildren. The contrast between traditional life and modern intervention was stark - nearby stood government-built houses, mostly empty, a well-intentioned but misaligned attempt at compensation for environmental damage.


Taita's house - a true family home housing three generations.


Empty government houses - a reminder that progress isn't always progress.

Culture and Connection

The community's dedication to preserving their culture was evident everywhere - from the Cofán alphabet displayed in the school to the youngest generation zipping around on modern toys while maintaining their ancestral connections.


The Cofán alphabet - keeping the language alive through education.


Speed demon - Taita's granddaughter mastering modern wheels.

Sacred Ceremonies

Witnessing the Ayahuasca preparation was a privilege - watching Taita combine the Banisteriopsis vine and Chacruna leaves, cooking them down into the powerful brown liquid. My third ceremony with him was indescribable, made even more surreal by the morning-after discovery of his jungle-necessary firearm.


The sacred process of preparing Ayahuasca - ancient knowledge in action.


Post-ceremony morning - some stories are better told in person!


A wet goodbye - leaving the community with an unexpected dip in the river.

The Third Crossing: Into the Clouds

After the mystical experiences in the Amazon, reality hit hard with my third Andes crossing. The two-week journey to Quito would test every limit I thought I had - and then some.


Milka (my bike) surveying the endless Amazon hills ahead. Rain-soaked but spirits high.


When the mountain decides to redraw the map - improvised rope climbing included.

Improvised Solutions

The journey threw constant curveballs. Mudslides weren't just obstacles - they were puzzle pieces in a daily game of "how do I get there from here?" Sometimes the answer was a sketchy death-machine cable car over a canyon, other times it meant negotiating with locals who saw my foreign face as a walking ATM.


The "death machine" - when the only way across is to trust rusty cables.


Negotiating 'gringo prices' - an art form in itself.

The Hardest Days

When the roads existed, they carved through scenery that belonged in fantasy films. But the dense forests that made these views possible also made finding camp spots a nightmare. Then came what I'd later call my darkest day - sleeping in a football stadium at 3,300m, soaked to the bone, starving, with a wisdom tooth screaming for attention. Sometimes adventure looks more like survival.


When they exist, the roads offer views worth every pedal stroke.


Rock bottom - a cold stadium floor, a throbbing tooth, and questioning everything.

Above the Clouds

At 4,200m, the air plays tricks on you. Each breath feels like it's being rationed, and the wind and rain have free reign in a landscape too harsh for trees. I had hoped to spot a bear up here - a dream that remained unfulfilled but kept me scanning the horizon between gasps for air.


Cycling above the clouds, with tomorrow's challenge looming ahead.


4,200m - where breathing is optional and bears are shy.

The Final Push to Quito

Standing on that motorway outside Quito, looking back at the mountains I'd just crossed, felt surreal. The capital promised rest, but mountains have a way of following you, even in your dreams.


A moment of reflection on the highway to Quito.


Finally, Quito - though 'rest' would prove to be a relative term...

Quito: City in the Clouds


The capital of Ecuador isn't just a city - it's a cultural crossroads perched in the sky. After weeks of solitary cycling, I found myself suddenly immersed in a whirlwind of experiences that only Quito could offer.


Our walking tour group recreating traditional ceremonial dances - some more gracefully than others.


Standing at latitude 0°0'0" - where the sun hits straight down and your shadow disappears.

High-Altitude Hijinks


Just when I thought I'd reached peak elevation (pun intended), Quito had other plans. With @mario_demnc and @hector_glt, we found ourselves at 4,500m, where even the simplest movements felt like interpretive dance. Speaking of dance, Mario's impromptu performance above the city skyline proved that altitude sickness might just be a state of mind.


4,500m hangout with @mario_demnc and @hector_glt - oxygen optional.


@mario_demnc showing that style knows no altitude.


Found what might be the world's highest swing - because regular swings aren't terrifying enough.

Dark Tourism


The cultural museums in Quito don't sugarcoat history. I learned about the practice of head-shrinking - a ritual still performed today (thankfully only on animal heads now). Seeing an actual shrunken human head was a sobering reminder of humanity's complex past. And then there was the Candiru fish exhibit, which... let's just say made every male visitor walk a bit differently afterward.


Ancient head-shrinking ritual display - not your typical museum exhibit.


An actual shrunken head - history at its most raw.


The Candiru fish display - a reminder to always wear swimming trunks.


Starring in a police PR video with an armed puppet master - just another day in Quito.

Sweet Endings


The chocolate tasting session was a revelation. Trying 100% cacao that doesn't taste bitter feels like a glitch in the matrix. I bought several bars for the journey ahead, making solemn promises about rationing that lasted approximately 48 hours. But hey, less weight to carry, right?


Discovering that 100% chocolate doesn't have to be bitter - a dangerous knowledge for my supplies.

Volcanoes, Vertigo, and Victory

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Leaving Quito meant diving back into the raw adventure of cycle touring. My mornings often started with packing a rain-soaked tent, hidden from the road like some cycling ninja. The reward? Waking up to views that made the discomfort worth it.


Morning routine: wringing out the tent while trying to stay stealthy.


"Volcanic threat zone" - just another casual road sign in Ecuador.

The Real Ecuador


Ecuador showed its many faces along the way. While mostly pristine, some areas told a different story. But what the country occasionally lacked in cleanliness, it more than made up for in hospitality. If I had a dollar for every time someone stopped to offer me a beer and hear my story... well, I'd have exactly $65.


Not every corner of Ecuador makes it to the postcards.


The kind of roadside meetings that restore your faith in humanity.

Climbing Towards the Sun


The elevation gain became a daily meditation - roughly 1,000 meters every single day. But the crown jewel was catching glimpses of Chimborazo, Earth's closest point to the sun (thanks to the planet's equatorial bulge), playing peek-a-boo through the clouds.


Another day, another 1,000m of elevation - just Ecuador things.


Chimborazo - where Earth reaches highest into space.

Taking to the Sky


Because cycling up mountains wasn't enough altitude, I decided to try paragliding. My instructor's casual "Are you feeling alright?" before some wild spinning maneuvers was probably the understatement of the year. Somehow, breakfast stayed where it belonged.


Another day, another 1,000m of elevation - just Ecuador things.

Chasing Waterfalls


The adventure culminated in rappelling down waterfalls - because apparently, I hadn't had enough adrenaline yet. The rescue crew photo afterward captured that unique mix of relief, pride, and "did we really just do that?" that seems to define so many moments of this journey.


Finding new ways to get down mountains.


The "we survived!" group shot - pure joy and relief.

The Highs and Lows of Solo Travel


If there's one thing cycle touring teaches you, it's that fashion takes a backseat to function. Case in point: my signature socks-and-sandals combo - the ultimate local romance deterrent that proved surprisingly practical on those long days.


Peak fashion performance - socks and sandals, the ultimate conversation starter (or stopper).


Meeting kindred spirits on the road - fellow South America adventurers.

When Progress Feels Like Standing Still


Some days redefine your understanding of "slow travel." My record: 10 hours of pushing my bike through unpaved hills under a merciless sun, covering a grand total of 17 kilometers. That's roughly the speed of a determined snail.


17km in 10 hours - when walking feels like sprinting.


Holding my breath and hoping these guys are as peaceful as they look.

Local Skepticism and Midnight Moves


The locals' reactions ranged from disbelief about my Bogotá-to-here journey (thank god for photo evidence) to outright suspicion. One night, after setting up camp by a bus stop, I discovered I was starring in someone's security camera feed. Four cars of concerned citizens later, I was politely but firmly asked to relocate - a first in my camping career.


The views that make you forget about the day's struggles.


Local skeptics turned believers after seeing the journey's evidence.

Guardian Angels


Just when things seemed darkest - literally, as I packed my tent in the pre-dawn hours after being evicted - Huan and his wife appeared like guardian angels. They offered me their old home for shelter, a gesture of kindness I'll never forget. Finally, after days of rain-soaked cycling, I had a chance to dry out my tent and restore my faith in humanity.


The infamous bus stop camp - before the im promptu midnight move.


Huan and his wife's incredible act of kindness - offering shelter to a stranger.


Finally, a chance to dry out after days of wet riding.


The reward for all the struggles - a star-filled high-altitude sky.

Gratitude and Glaciers


Before tackling Chimborazo, I had one important stop to make. Treating Huan's family to dinner was the least I could do after their incredible kindness. In a journey full of memorable moments, their generosity when others turned me away stands out as a reminder of humanity's capacity for kindness.


Breaking bread with the family that showed me kindness when I needed it most.

The Earth's Highest Point


Here's a fun fact: while Everest might be the highest mountain above sea level, Chimborazo is actually the furthest point from Earth's center - a full 2,000m higher than Everest, thanks to our planet's equatorial bulge. Of course, learning this fact made climbing it absolutely necessary.


The gang taking on Chimborazo - where Earth reaches furthest into space.


Because who wouldn't go for a dip at 5,100m? (Don't answer that.)

When Shortcuts Go Wrong


Pro tip: sandals, no matter how tactical, aren't ideal mountaineering gear. This became painfully obvious when our "shortcut" through the snow turned into an impromptu sliding adventure. Sometimes the path of least resistance becomes the path of most entertainment.


Taking the "scenic route" through the snow.

Ancient Paths and Modern Adventures


The descent took us down the Inka trail, where each step felt like walking through history. Of course, we couldn't resist staging some "totally candid" photos - because if you don't get an album cover shot on an ancient trail, did you even hike it?


Following in the footsteps of the Inka.


Absolutely natural laughter. No direction needed. None at all.


The album cover that's too hot for this world.

Unexpected Reunions


In the vastness of South America, running into a fellow almost countryman feels like winning the lottery. Meeting @marekzaj was a slice of home in the middle of nowhere. I celebrated with what else? A casual 5-hour "recovery" hike to some waterfalls, because apparently, we don't know the meaning of rest.


Finding a fellow from my part of the world? Meet Marek.


Our idea of a "recovery" day - just a casual 5-hour waterfall trek.

To Be Continued...


This is just the beginning of the story. As I continue to process and write about this transformative journey, I'm discovering that the real adventure wasn't just in the cycling - it was in the way this experience continues to shape how I see the world and approach both my personal and professional life.

Stay tuned for more detailed accounts of specific segments of the journey, practical advice for aspiring bicycle tourists, and reflections on how this adventure has influenced my approach to digital craftsmanship and life in general.

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Pavol Hlavac
Motion Designer & WDeveloper