Balam (also known as Juan Carlos Ibarra), KLRing it to the deep South of the America's

The most dangerous thing for a traveller's trip is for the traveller to fall in love.

This happened to me with the City of Bogota. It has positively been the highlight of my trip so far. The warmth of the people there has created an affection debt that I will find very hard to pay... I'll definitely be back at some point.

I will have been on the road for two years next month.

These are a few of the things I've learned on the road.I'VE LEARNED THAT:

The old cliches: "Know thyself" and "All you need is Love" are in fact true. We repeat them like phylosophical parrots without honestly looking into them. We have heard them and said them sooo many times that they've lost meaning. Well... stop talking and start riding.

As the sun was setting, the blood on my right thumb dried, the small wound packed with dirt. The wind was blowing fiercely. The flock of flamingos remained undisturbed. In the direction of the setting sun a large fox watched me crosslegged, it's tongue hanging loosely from it's snout.I was exhausted and a bit afraid. I was in a kind of middle of nowhere that is not a real middle of nowhere kind of place. True, it's at least two days from the nearest useful town... but it's also an obligated pass for the SUVs that carry tourists every day through this rugged high dessert in Bolivia.

My Pirelli MT 21 did not enjoy traversng this road with no air in it, and let me know this by fishtailing like mad, making hiddeous sounds and threatening to leave the rim and start a town right there.Night was falling.

I was almost falling

My Polartech Windproof jacket fell... so did my favorite riding gloves.

I had never been in Alota before. I didn't know if there were any hostels there, or food or gas. I had left my tent and sleeping bag behind and it was getting very cold. I could only hope for the best and focus all my energy in keeping the bike vertical.

An old tango sings: "Mi buenos Aires querido, nunca te podré olvidar" (My dear Buenos Aires I will never forget you.)

I've never been a fan of tangoes, but I've become almost addicted to Buenos Aires.

It is a great city among cities.

One night I walked the streets of Recoleta with my dear friend Dr. Bárbara Uriburu. We crossed streets and avenues untill dawn, resolving ancient existencial troubles. As the sun came up between the tall buildings, we were better firends and a little wiser... and no one had tried to mug us.