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The nature in Minca was balm for our battered bodies. After a relaxed breakfast on our patio over the rich garden we strived through the little village and undertook in the afternoon an easy walk to Pozo Azul, a natural pool below a cascade in the nearby river: what a refreshing bath! The day ended with a private lesson for me of the dance Reggaeton.

We had to return to Santa Marta to wrap the bicycle: an undertaking much more complicated than ever thought of: never touch a perfectly working machine! Due to my excitation, I would not have completed this task without the patient help of Estella and the owner of Casa Familar, respectively, to be honest, I watched them cutting the carton and sealing it.

The next day was the painful farewell leave on the airport: Estella went back to Pereira and I flew over the whole country to Pasto in the south to continue my journey traversing the frontier to Ecuador. When would we ever see us again? It is one of the most existential moments when two biographies intertwined for an intense time separate leaping in the dark, it is the pain a traveller must learn to stand.