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I am furious.


First, I rushed through the first Central American countries under stress to catch my cargo in time, thus seeing only little from most of them.


In the meantime, I learned that my ship will be late, (good news for once) which removed some pressure.  Luckily, because with the heavy rains and traffic problems that followed, I would never have made it in time. After one night in Panama City, I drove to Colon on the Caribbean Sea, to embark my bike. So far, no problems.


But, once in Colon, I’ve been told that I need a police document, which I can only get in.....Panama City. Back in Panama City  (100 km) where, after two hours of turning around, I finally found the police station I needed. All there is to do is to check that the number of my bike frame is the one listed on the registration card; apparently no problem. I wonder why this cannot be done by the police in Colon. But that's not counting with the laziness and intransigence of the Colombian police officers.

We cannot check your bike today, it's raining.

Are they crazy, or what? It is in full rainy season, so it's normal for rain, right?  I can sing him a song, what it is like to ride for over two weeks under heavy rain. It will take him just 5 minutes to check that stupid number. Besides that, on most of the other borders I passed, the officers did not even bother checking that frame number.

No, no way, come back tomorrow.

I could kill the idiot. Again and again I try to explain that I just drove 100 km to get here, that I have to embark tomorrow; this idiot just does not care, does not want to know. In the meanwhile it has stopped raining, what I point out to him, but again, there is nothing to do.  An intervention of the officer handling my motorcycle transport is unsuccessful as well. After two hours of failed attempts, I give up, furious. Now I will miss my boat, for sure, which may cost me the equivalent of three months’ salary of this asshole. On top of that, I caught a cold, sitting in my soaked clothes in his office while the air conditioning ran on full power.

Finally, I had an arrangement with the carrier. He found a place in a container, that I will share with an Ecuadorian, at no extra cost. But that boat leaves 2 days later, what is still fine somehow, otherwise I would have lost two weeks, waiting for the next cargo.

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That was yesterday.

Today I drove the 100 km to Panama once again. I was wrong: It did not take 5 minutes but 3, I checked it. Now, all I need, is a stamp on my documents, and I am done. Come back at 2 pm. It is 9 am, and I will explode. Once again, discussing is useless, and finally, not at 2, but at 4 pm I have all I need.

At least my documents; the guy from Ecuador, whom I had to share a container with, has changed his mind, and booked with another company. And I am on the road again, searching for a carrier.