A city reborn

Days 22/ 23/ 24/ 25

Tiger paw, Medellin

Medellin cable car and favelas

After our 13 hour overnight bus ride, we arrived around midday in Medellin. The views on the way were even more incredible than those we had seen on the way up north, with the rolling fields turning into jagged hills with sharp drop sides, covered in the plush Colombian forest which stretched far over the horizon. Our first glimpse of Medellin showed a huge city, covering an entire valley in Mideast Colombia. It was a mix of high-rise brick buildings and shabbier favelas climbing the hillsides. 

We weren't really sure what to expect of Medellin. Our experience of Bogota had marred our opinions of the big cities, as, although it was huge, it was not particularly tourist friendly. Medellin, however, turned out to be a nice surprise. Quick history lesson for those who've not heard much of it: in the 1970s/80s it had the not-so-coveted title of being the most dangerous city in the world. This was mainly due to its being home of drug-king Pablo Escobar and his incredibly powerful and destructive team of hit-men. He was killed in a dramatic shoot-out in 1989, and Medellin has battled hard for over two decades to right it's image. The result is quite amazing, but more on that later.

One of Pablo Escobar's main dens was situated right around the corner from our hostel, Tiger paw, in the Zona Rosa area to the east of the centre. Tiger paw took the biscuit when it came to bad hostel experiences. After our long bus ride and a little nap, we went to the most delicious vegetarian restaurant. I never thought I'd be one to miss vegetables, but they are a rare find out here, with most meals being triple carbs and a slab of meat. So Verdeo, this restaurant, was more than welcome with courgette salads, spinach sauces and mushroom burgers. We waddled home, full and happy, only to bump into a group of Irish girls who are on our same hostel route. They rather frantically asked if we were in room 10 (our first private room I must add), 'yeees' we said, 'why?' - 'Your room's been flooded. We know because our room, the one below, is flooded from yours'....'shooooot (!)' we said and ran off to see the damage. As I have said previously, rain has been a standard during a lot of our time in Colombia and this particular storm had been super dramatic, with lightening flashing just seconds before the thunder boomed. 

Our room was certainly flooded. Some fellow hostellers had seen water pouring out from under the door and had managed to get most things (clothes, bags) onto the beds. Unfortunately one bed was also subject to the stream of water from the roof so this did not save us completely. We actually did fairly well out of the flood, with only our clothes getting wet, most electrics were out of the way (bar the kindle which had a very lucky escape!) and we were moved into two private rooms with bathrooms. A free laundry and free drink later, we were much placated and settled into our new, spacious rooms for a well overdue night's sleep.

VIew from cable car going to Arvi

The next morning, it turned out that the inconvenience of the night before had not quite been resolved, as Bean had to move rooms again and we were asked to pack twice. Tiger Paw was beginning to grate on us a little so we made a vaguely planned escape, and headed in the direction of the cable car metro system to get to a good viewpoint. The transport system of Medellin beats any others we have seen hands down, with both the traditional ground level metro, and a cable car metro to transport people up the steep hillsides, connecting the favelas to the rest of the city. From the cable car, we hovered just metres over people's houses, which was interesting, and slightly weird! We continued our way up the hillside, finally paying the extra 4000pesos to get to our desired viewpoint. The view came and went, my plan of only turning round to see the view at its most impressive at the top was deemed stupid; it seemed the car was headed not for a viewpoint, but to Arvi national park on the otherside of the hill. The park was very well designed with information centres and plaques all over, but we only had one thing on our minds - food. On our search for a restaurant, none other than at the top of a mountain in Medellin, we bumped into a friend, Nish, from Bogota/Santa Marta. Nish introduced us to his gang and we had an enjoyable menu del dia while swapping stories. Although all we saw of Arvi national park was this restaurant, we were glad to have made the trip and headed back down with plans for the evening.

Random moment: Policeman joking that he would arrest a street rapper by waving his handcuffs, while on a  seguee - hilarious

Medellin night-life is pretty exciting, with the majority of the hostels being situated in one area, people tend to congregate in Casa Kiwi, the largest one, round the corner from tiger paw.  Our mountain friends were all there, and we headed out to Babylon club, where, as some of the only gringo girls, we were treated like royalty, paying 15,000 pesos entry (£5) for an open bar!! We befriended a group of Colombian girls on a birthday night out and danced the night away, with them leading the moves..!

Pablo, our tour guide

Having heard reports along our journey that the free walking tour in Medellin was excellent, Lizzie and I mustered the courage to take it on the next morning. Our guide, Pablo ("I am here to turn the name Pablo around in this city"), a very well-traveled 25 yr old Medellinian (or 'Paisian') with a masters in engineering, and certainly a master at presenting Colombian history in a gripping way. 

He described how the majority of Medellinian (Paisian) people originate from persecuted Spaniards from the Basque area of Spain or extradited Jews from Spain.  As he described Medellin's history, I couldn't help but feel moved by the sad circumstances which have so heavily afflicted Colombia and its people. What started as a disagreement between the left (consisting of multiple guerrilla groups, and other lefty parties) and right soon inflated to extremely dangerous proportions, thanks to a financial influx from the Cocaine trade, which offered funding to both sides in return for their business. As Pablo put it, what started out as a low-level slingshot fight quickly turned into a bazooka fight, with both sides having equal access to better weapons and knowledge. Winding through the streets of Medellin, we learnt that what appear to be beautifully constructed squares and plazas, were only 20 years ago some of the most dangerous places in Colombia. The amount of thought that went into the reconstruction of these public spaces in order to re-educate and encourage people to use them, rather than be afraid of them, was incredible. 

Bombed Botero

Replacement Botero

And so Pablo continued to talk of the very real fights and deaths that had taken place on the streets only 10-20 years ago and how the Colombian people have done their best to move on from this, partly explaining why the majority of people that we have met are so friendly and positive. The tour ended in a square where a bomb had been set off killing many people, and partly destroying a piece of Botero's work (a famous Paisian artist). Botero, in retaliation created an identical piece of artwork and ordered it to be put next to the destroyed piece as a symbol of remembrance, and moving forward. Medellin is now one of three candidates for the world youth Olympics, the winner of  the world's most innovative transport system and many other awards. Truly a place to respect, an certainly one to visit if ever in this area!

View of Medellin from the club

We spent the evening saying goodbye to the friends we'd made, and visited a club on a hill with the most incredible view of the city. After a very limited amount of sleep, we headed off to our next destination, Salento, the heart of Colombia's coffee region.

Cartegena: Bringing Europe abroad

Days 20/21/22/23

El Viajero, Cartegena

Colourful streets of Cartegena

And so our journey continued towards Cartegena, a beautiful touristic city boasting both high rise buildings and an ancient walled town, on the west part of the Carribbean coast. Our hostel, El Viajero was situated at the heart of the walled part of town, otherwise known as Old town. After hearing a few tips that we should stay away from the main party hostel area, Getsemani (the Soho area of Cartegena, situated just outside the walls) our hostel had the best of both worlds, being a ten minute walk from the Media Luna street in getsemeni (and the similarly named Media Luna hostel, with its 160 beds, being at the heart of many people´s stories of Cartegena), but also a 5 minute walk from the walls which looked out over the sea.

The sea through the fortified walls of Old Town

 The charm of Old town Cartegena is hard to ignore. We genuinely felt like we were in a European holiday town, with marble/ light stone pedestrian streets and flower-ridden, rainbow of buildings tangling to and fro. All this is sewn together by churches, plazas, white linen wearing blokes and summer-dressed wives. In keeping with the holiday vibe, our time in Cartegena revolved heavily around reading, relaxing, eating and wandering. On our first night, a Saturday, we attempted the Media Luna area, settling in a buzzing, if slightly dodgy, square in Getsemani with locals trying to tout beers. After the long bus ride from Costeno however, we took turns to be knackered and finally gave up after the heavily gringoed Saturday-night streets got too much. The next morning, feeling hot and sweaty (Cartegena was muggier than our beach resorts), we took refuge in Exito, the supermarket and found a `shabby-chic` ice cream parlour which offered the most amazing head-size icecreams for 2 pounds (oreo & coconut of course, really branching out on my flavours). Our evening was spent looking out over the sea view from the fortified walls and watching the sunset. All in all fairly relaxing!

Sunset on the walls

With the intention of saving you some boredom, our second day in Cartegena followed pretty much the same pattern (ice cream and Exito included) but with more admin, things take a loooong time to organise when in holiday mode (tough life), until the evening when we munched down, firstly a street kebab (YUM!) and subsequently, a delicious menu del dia (my personal saviour, a very cheap food option, consisting of a set menu starting with soup, followed by a plate of meat, rice, unhealthy salad and chips/plantain) and continued our new found love for straight rum over dinner! Following this, we headed over to Media Luna street, which was dead, but managed to find a bunch of people who fancied a boogie, and so continued our salsa learning experience. Unfortunately for me (and perhaps Bean), although we now know the Salsa foot-work after a few impromptu lessons, our malcoordination continues. We will persist, watch out UK!

Street food (tourist shot)

Our plan the next day was to catch a boat over to Playa Blanca, a gorgeous beach on an island 40 minutes away, and stay the night in hammocks. Waking up to the familiar Pit-pat of rain quickly scuppered this and we made a rapid decision to skip out on a wet Playa Blanca and head down, away from our beloved coast, to Medellin, the second biggest city in Colombia. To save on accommodation, we chose to take the overnight bus (13hrs), rather than the equally priced flight (1hr). Character-building stuff. Medellin appeared on our horizons (or not, as it`s situated in a valley, so that would be impossible) at 11am and we taxied over to Tiger Paw, our next hostel.

I am slightly aware that our time in Cartegena seems quite quiet, but we did get a real feel for the beautiful city and had a (fairly) well needed (not at all really) recharge after a really hard time cruising from beach to beach up and down the north coast. We were, safe to say, very sad to leave the coast, but the unknown of Medellin (pronounced MedeJin (Colombian accent)) has been a great surprise and in the next blog I`ll fill you in on our being flooded out of a room and (finally) learning about Colombian history.

Paradise found

Days 16/17/18/19Dreamer hostel, palomino > Cabo San Juan, Tayrona > Costeño surf club, Costeño

I have managed to find a real computer, so can finlly upload some photos!!

Leaf cutter ants at Tayrona

After a day of relaxing, lounging and eating the most amazing langoustine at Dreamer hostel, we rid ourselves of our backpacks and headed off to Tayrona national park, an hour bus ride away along the coastal road. We had been told to stay at Cabo San Juan, a rural accommodation site offering hammocks, to be found after a two hour trek. Tayrona park stretches for a good portion of the north Carribbean sea coast, boasting a whole host of wildlife including monkeys, the highest number of birds species in the world (or some fact like that) and rainbows of butterflies and insects. Unfortunately we didnt get the pleasure of the monkeys but enjoyed observing the miniscule highways created by thousands upon thousands of leaf cutter ants carrying their hoards. 

Cabo san Juan - Tayrona

After typically taking the wrong route and extending our journey unnecessarily, we made a sweaty but happy arrival to Cabo San Juan. Again, pictures say it better, but it was a campsite based across two bays, offering hammocks either down in the camp or up on the rocks looking over the sea. We opted for the camp, choosing potential mossie bites over the cold sea breeze.

hammocks at C.S.Juan

Having been warned that the camp was quite expensive, we chose the cheapest tomato pasta on the menu, which tasted like 5* dining after not much food all day. My particular boast here will be the finding of a 30p homemade coconut flapjack thing, packed with sugar and pretty tasty! We chilled on the beach, checked out the views (sea as as far as you could see, jungle as far as you could jungle) and played cards with a couple of Aussies that we met; a very relaxed evening. I was a little nervous about taking on the hammocks for the night as they certainly had mixed reviews, however it was wide enough to sleep foetal (strange terminology, but you understand?!) so I actually slept ok, waking at about 7am. Bean being a sleeping machine managed to sleep on her front - her poor spine. 

We had an early morning swim in the fairly rough waters of the bay, and got going before 10 to miss the heat of the day while we trekked. The walk back was far more enjoyable due to our taking the correct route (along the flat, gorgeous beaches, not up the jungly hill as yesterday) and having coconut flapjacks in hand! 

Costeno beach surf club

We chose to stay another night at dreamer hostel, partly to rid ourselves of the accumulated sweat/sand/sea. Sadly, we parted from this the next morning (I was a particular fan of the pool/sea/ cocktail combination) and headed to Costeño beach, a 45 min bus ride, and home to an under-the-radar hostel, Costeño surf club, which purposefully keeps itself out of the lonely planet, relying on word of mouth - yes, that kind of alternative. I arrived in a foul mood after a seriously hot walk with backpacks down a never ending track, but soon perked up once I saw the beach - even more deserted than Palomino or Tayrona - dotted with 'cool surfer dudes' (I felt like I didn't contribute much to this demographic). I think even before I saw the beach, Bean had whipped on the bikini and was catching the rays, her true paradise! 

The familial atmosphere of the hostel was unlike others that we have stayed in. The staff are one with the guests and we all sat together in the evenings to eat and chat. On our first night, a friendly staff member, Santiago (santi), came to us, bottle of rum in hand and insisted we drink it straight, oddly dotting our serious conversation about the world with shots. It was surprisingly sweet and drinkable. Five shots later, we were sitting round the campfire on the beach, listening to a fellow traveller with his Peruvian ukulele (10 stringed, the name of which I can't remember but i might buy one). One amazing thing about Costeño, and one of our reasons for going, was the rumour that the sea lit up with florescent algae at night, similar to that scene in life of Pi if you have seen/ read it. We did not see it straight away and were thinking it was just rumour, when santi pointed to the sand after the waves crashed and you could see little dots of fluorescent light fleetingly before they died out. Not quite life of Pi, but exciting and beautiful for biologists and historians alike. We went to bed happy and sated.

The ´secret´waterfall near Costeno

The next day, we went on a trip to a 'secret' waterfall, in keeping with the exclusiveness of this hostel. We all crammed into the back of a truck, balancing precariously on the sides and were carted across the road. A 45 minute walk later revealed a beautiful lagoon with a fast flowing waterfall. Again, none of us mustered the courage to jump off the 5m rock (pictured on the right of the picture to the left) but the practised staff did, making it look easy. The afternoon was spent on the beach, relaxing and I joined in with a game of volleyball while the gals chilled out. I was on a team of Colombians, who called the team ´Colombia Cocaine´. Hilarious. We lost.

As it was a Friday night, the hostel was partying so we enjoyed a delicious home-cooked chili con carne with the crew and then spent the night dancing to Reggaeton and (attempting, me anyway) Salsa on the beach. We woke the next morning, again not feeling 100% fresh and, after a long paying saga (no cash points, no internet), got on our way to Cartegena which we originally termed the holy grail of the north coast, but now feel all of it has been amazing!

Long blog so, again, I`ll catch up soon!!

Searching for paradise

Days 12/13/14/ 15

La Tortuga, Taganga > Dreamer hostel, Palomino

Taganga is a small fishing town nestled in a bay on the Carribbean coast. From it's idyllic location, overlooked by the mountains of the Sierra Nevada forest and overlooking the sea, you would imagine that it attracts tourists in their hoards. However, on arrival we were amazed by how un/underdeveloped it is. In reality, the only tourists to visit are either hippy gringos looking for a cheap deal or divers, also looking for a good deal. We were somewhere between the two! 

The roads of the town, if you can call them roads, are broken and crumbled, with only the main road really drivable. The locals were far more, shall I say, acknowledging of us than we had previously experienced. We supposed this is because there's a bigger divide between the locals and tourists here, compared to the fairly upmarket places we seem to have been before. 

The beach front is less paradise with palms, more building site and fishermen, but we stopped at a local resto for some lunch whereby Lizzie was presented with a platter of newly caught fish to choose from. My expectations were not high due to the red plastic seats and staff harassing us to eat at their place, the food was very tasty. The food out here does tend to lack a distinct identity, with us having eaten carbonara, pizza, steak, hamburgers etc. but freshly caught fish is hard to beat!

Our hostel, la tortuga, was very pleasant , with a rooftop bar and well fanned rooms. It seems like any money bought to taganga by the tourist trade goes straight back into the hostels, as it, and many others, were under construction. 

Our first full day in taganga was spent relaxing on the rooftop space as, somehow unsurprisingly, the rain had followed us here. And rain it did, real wet, tropical rain! We were told that it only rains on a handful of days a year here, so although we were cooped up feeling slightly bitter, the locals and their kids were loving it, standing outside with their buckets trying to catch as much as possible. Eventually it did stop and we spent the rest of the day booking a very reasonably priced dive (~£40 for two) for tomorrow, Lizzie and I being PADI trained, and Bean due to snorkel. We also went on the characteristic treasure hunt for a cash point, as taganga's sole one let us down!

We woke up bright and early for our dive, around 7, and headed across to our club of choice, oceano (there was a huge selection, with prices ranging from very cheap to cheap, we opted for quite cheap). They kitted us up and we were out on the boat in no time. Our first stop was one of the islands off the coast of Tyrona (nearby national park, another future destination). Lizzie and I, not having dived for sometime, were a little alarmed when we were asked to set up our tanks, neither of us remembering a thing. Luckily I was wedged between our guide, Javier, and another English diving instructor so I got the appropriate help. Lizzie was left unprepared until just before we jumped in the water, but finally they sorted her out and we were ready to go. Being underwater, I felt much more at home than I had I above surface, it all came back fairly quickly. The visibility was ok, certainly better than the dive in Scotland I once subjected myself to, and the water was a nice luke warm. The Carribbean waters were home to some beautiful fish; parrot, angel, puffer, eel and loads of unnamed but ethereally wafting things. We stopped for lunch in a secluded cabin up the mountainside and watched the blokes' testosterone fuelled battle to jump from the highest rocks. 

On our dive trip

Dive 2 was a little less serene for me as before our descent, the guide briefly mentioned a current, the unknown of which put me on edge. Once underwater I realised the current required a fair bit of kicking which meant that my air was decreasing more rapidly than usual, and once I fell below what i thought was the recommended air capacity, I was panicking a bit, as a frantic communication with Lizzie told me I had much less air. I told the instructor who was super calm and we made it to the top in good time, thank god!!

Taganga is a 'quiet by day, party by night' kind of place and so after the most delicious chicken curry baguette (my opinion only!) we headed out to find Bean's cousin, who of all places, had just moved into a house in Taganga! Travelling with a group of Argentinian hippies, and having died her hair pink, Rosie was the picture of a student enjoying her year out! She quickly directed us away from 'sensation' the local club, and took us to a bar called 'la garaje bar', a haven for locals and gringos alike, with a live band and dancing for all. We were very happy to have had this insider tip, and to have avoided the sleazy sensation, so we had a great night. All in all a brill day!

The next day was a travel day, and with soaring temperatures and minimal sleep, we grumbled our way to Palomino. Quite what awaited us there, bar a deserted beach, we were unsure as we chose to wing it and did a place on arrival. We discovered that palomino is pretty much just a one road town, and after my diva-like refusal to stay in the first hostel we found (cockroaches and wee all over the only toilet I could find, which was in someone's private room), we stopped for some lunch to recuperate. Moods were not improved when a particularly hungry bean's food-order was forgotten at this same hostel. Despairingly, we finally opted to stay at the marginally out of our budget dreamer hostel, which we had found a card for. As our taxi took us up a dirt track, I was not expecting great things, especially as we weren't even sure they'd have space for three, but as the palm trees parted, so an oasis was revealed, with a pool surrounded by people drinking cocktails and the sound of the sea not far away. Luckily, they had plenty of room for us, a whole dorm infact, and the room was £2 cheaper than we had expected! The sea, it turned out, was also 1 minute away, and with deserted sandy beach stretching in all directions (well, two) we really felt like we'd very accidentally, and jammily, stumbled across paradise. It did not take us long to decide to stay for another night, before our imminent trip to the further deserted beaches of tayrona national park!

I've got a bit behind with blog but will catch up in the next. *SPOILER* we're still in dreamer hostel. haha

Going coastal

Days 8/9

La Brisa Loca, Santa Marta > La tortuga, Taganga

Our journey to the coast took a light 15 hours door to door. We had booked an overnight bus from San Gil which we boarded at 7:30. We had been allotted the front-most seats on the bus, which after and initial happiness switched to the usual resentment once the aircon began dripping onto us from the TV screen which we couldn't watch as we were too far forward.  This aside, we all slept fairly well, waking up only occasionally. On one occasion I went to stretch my legs without the other sleeping girls and ended up having a tinto with the bus driver where we discussed his orange juice and our destination, Santa Marta, in broken Spanish. Surreal for 4 in the morning.

La brisa loca

We began approaching our destination at around 9 and finally got herded on to another, more stuffy bus which took us to S.M bus station. Even at this time in the morning we could feel the change in temperature, now a humid 30 degrees, and were grateful for this. Luckily, our hostel, la Brisa loca, had a luxurious swimming pool in its midst so we quickly cooled off on arrival. La Brisa loca was quite intimidating to begin with; pool rule signs hinted at a party atmosphere ('rule 1. no mankinis, rule 2. Girls swimsuits optional, rule 3. No jumping off the balcony etc etc) and I was slightly worried we weren't 'party' enough for this place. But after an afternoon of relaxing at the bar under the cool breeze of ceiling fans with a glass coke bottle/ cool beer in hand, we felt relaxed. This was what we needed after an active week.

Santa Marta itself leaves little to write home about, as we had been warned. It's a hub for Colombian tourists looking for a weekend break and, as such, we suffered under the 'tourist' umbrella much more so than in our small hillside towns. With market stalls and vendors lining the streets vying for everyone to buy their goods (everything from blenders to live chicks) we quickly bypassed them to the airconned supermarket (oh so western). Prices seemed high, and the fruit not so fresh, but in our tired post-bus state we were looking for a quick fix. 

We rapidly got back to our hostel haven, having gleaned that Santa Marta is one of those places where you tend to stay in the hostel! However, with a nice rooftop space, a restaurant bar and the pool we didnt feel so guilty about this. Plus our promised beach was not within a decent distance - the hunt continues...

Bean conked out quickly after our delicious prawn nacho dinner, the sun and bus ride having taken its toll, and Lizzie and I were approaching sleep when into the scene bustled the group of boys we had met in Bogota. This was mainly coincidence, and a nice surpirse.  Armed with a number of stories which made our trip seem very tame, they explained that one of them had left their passport and camera in a taxi. Supisingly unphased by this, we got ourselves together and made the most of the in house bar facilities. The night was fun, if a little cut short by closed salsa venues. Luckil for Shane who had lost his bag - it was found in the taxi, handed in with camera, passport and money still in tact. A real testament to the lovely Colombian people as I doubt that would have happened in the uk!!

The boys left early to catch a flight to Medellin, a future destination of ours, and we went Across to Taganga, the cheap diving hotspot, around 20 mins from Santa marta. This next day was spent on the rooftop space in hammocks, reading and sipping coke. The sunset was particularly beautiful!

I will leave it here for today and talk about Taganga tomorrow as it´s certainly different from other places we've been! 

Ciao x

Adventures of land and water part 2

Day 7/8

Macondo hostel, San Gil

San Gil is a lively town situated, once again, in the marvelous Colombian hills. With roads as steep as those in San fransisco, we arrived praying that our hostel wouldn't be at the top. Luckily, Macondo was nestled somewhere in the middle of the hills so that it kept the impressive views of the valley but did not tire us out. The added bonus of a jacuzzi went down very well with me,  and I quickly dived (...well, stepped...) in, despite the now standard rain. 

waterfall at San Gil

The main attractions of San Gil revolve around the fast flowing river that cuts the town in half and defines the valley. Rafting, paragliding, waterfalls and caving are all available, to name but a few activities. Due to a limited budget, we chose to follow the advice of a fellow hosteller who had visited the waterfall the day before without paying the hostel fees to abseil down it. We climbed onto a stuffy bus and bumped our way over the not-so-smooth roads to the entrance of a very deserted looking gated path. Fortunately we were in the right place as a very local lady greeted us with son and daughter, charging us 10,000pesos (£3) to go up 'without a guide'. The path was fairly defined to begin with, I felt like harry potter entering the chamber of secrets due to the dogs (largely friendly) on leads guarding the path. The wildlife was certainly beautiful, with blue butterflies the size of our hands courting each other and leaf cutter ants leading us up the right route. As we continued my Harry potter turned ino Tarzan, with vines hanging down and the path becoming rapidly wetter and less defined. Using a rope to cross a little cascade, I began feeling a little less sure-footed and when the rope turned into dodgy ladders going up waterfalls my Tarzan turned into Lara croft. 20 minutes of ladders and ropes and general soakedness (thank god we bought a dry bag) later we discovered the waterfall; stretching 180m high causing wind and rain like back in Edinburgh. At this point the son from the bottom of the trek appeared and I rather ungraciously assumed he was there to watch us. It turns out he was actually there to lead us back across the slippery cascades and down the Tarzan ropes. Of course bean and Lizzie strided on, for the most part refusing his offers of a hand delicately hopping from stone to stone, while I slipped and slided ungracefuly, taking every hand I was given [this may be an over exaggeration but in my head it felt like this!].

We eventually got to the bottom to be

kindly given a cup of coffee (or 'tinto' as thy call it) and some homemade biscuits. Poco, their dog, a big fluffy bear, looked on enviously. We thanked the family and went back to the road to hail a bus (no bus-stops here!). Hail we did and 40 mins later turned up (already soaked) to some extraordinary flash floods in San Gil. The geography of the city meant that all the rain (I forgot to mention it was raining. Just assume it as a standard unless I say otherwise) wooshed to the river that runs through the city. We appeared to be the only ones brave/stupid enough to face the genuinely quite strong currents lining the streets, but got ourselves home safely and quickly jumped in the warm jacuzzi. While the cold had beaten Bean, Lizzie and I warmed up and reminisced in the hot tub about or exciting day.

We went for dins at a new local restaurant 'elementales' where the very friendly owners, a south american couple, talked us through local sites and where to go next. Under their advice we spent the next day in Barichara, a nearby village with wonderful views.

Burichara

Barichara, although beautiful, could probably be described as a work in progress, with most of the roads having been pulled up for works. The beautiful terracotta rooves stretched on and on, and at the top of the hill, a view of the entire valley tested the 'panorama' function of my camera. 

From here we somehow decided it would be a good idea to walk to the nearby village of Guane (yes, we/mainly I called it guano) via a hiking path. An hour long journey, each way. Or so we thought. An hour and a half of down hill later, with a grumbling Bean and Corkie in tow, Lizzie led the troops, trying to keep up moral, despite the thought of the inevitable climb back up the hill. When lizzie¨s moral failed we

knew we had been beaten and sat down, contemplating the uphill return to come, with the added time pressure of having a nightbus to catch. With Guano just appearing in view, we wondered whether to go on to see our not-so-holy-grail, or to try and get back up the path in time to catch our bus.

Luckily an elderly local man of about 70 passed us confidently with his stick and reassured us we could get a bus from Guano, thus meaning we didnt have to do the uphill struggle. Said man, our saviour, hobbled on as we celebrated this news. 

We reached guano 15 minutes later and found a fairly comprehensive village with restaurants, roads and all. We chose the first resto we saw (once again having forgotten to bring lunch). Excited we sat down, overjoyed by our adventure an the fact that a parrot was watching us eat. This joy slowly evaporated on the presentation of a soup of some format. After a few hungry mouthfuls we realised the chicken was not chicken but instead cow tongue (gristle included). All of us, but partiularly Lizzie were not feeling too peachy after this despite a yummy second course, so we bussed back to San Gil feeling slightly beaten, and with the rain one again flooding the city, yesterday's excitment did not reappear.

Having enjoyed our adventures in San Gil, we were all prepped for some sun, hopefully to be found in Santa Marta, very near the Carribbean coast and our next stop....

(If you made it to the end of this one, well done it was long and thanks for reading!!)

Adventures by land and water pt 1.

Days 5/6
Renacer hostel, Villa de levya > Macondo hostel, San Gil

After a few freezing days of high altitude and cloudy skies in Bogota, the lower altitude of villa de leyva was very welcome. Our hostel was situated high up the mountainside and so we woke to wonderful views of the valley and blue skies, a nice change. The main activities in Villa de leyva revolve around exploring the vast and varied landscape. There were a choice of tours that we could have taken including horse riding, cycling, by bus or hiking...we bravely chose to cycle after being reassured that it wouldn't be too strenuous...

So, after renting bikes from a new local business [we have noticed that many of the businesses are quite new, perhaps due to burgeoning tourism post the fall of Pablo Estebar (the super drug-lord) in 2008/9] we set off. First stop; 7 blue lagoons about 3km away. They were a marvelous azure blue and very picturesque (again, when I get a chance to upload photos, i found an internet one..) although we didnt work out why they were so blue, biologists brains suggested algae.

Blue pools, Villa de Leyva

We then headed off again, by-passing the ostrich park (!?), to visit various other sites along the path. Predictably, we got lost and didnt visit any other sights, while the slow rolling hills stopped looking beautiful and started looking hellish. Comfortably taking third place, I left it to Lizzie and bean to find our way back, which we managed with Beans DofE skills, after a couple of hours. To make this journey slightly less peaceful, we also got a battering from the elements, with some precariously placed sunburn highlighting our poor application skills. Just as we got lost, the rain began, which soothed said sunburn but did not make the sweaty hill climbs any easier. Oh and we had not taken lunch with us so all of this on an empty stomach. For those who know me, you may have guessed that I was not overjoyed by this affair, despite feeling a serious sense of achievment for keeping up with my two energetic companions, how grateful i now am for the cycling I,d been doing back home! My food grump was taken out solely on a horribly westernised & overpriced waffeleria which chose the wrong moment to put hersheys chocolate sauce on my chicken and caper crepe. We returned to the hostel for a well deserved chill and excellent sleep.

Villa de leyva town square - buzzing by night

Day 6 was largely uneventful, a travelling day spent on a minibus heading to San Gil, our next stop. I will take a moment to comment on our perception of Colombia. We all agree that we have been made to feel at home here, walking down the streets (bar perhaps a little attention in Bogota) we are largely ignored, anyone looking for an ego boost - dont come here..! But the country is beautiful, varied and the people are so helpful, not once have we been or felt like we are being scammed or sent in the wrong direction. Of course we will continue to be careful, but it seems a real shame that Colombia has such a terrible reputation as it, and most of its people seem to be so un-polluted (in a touristic sense, its quite polluted otherwise haha) which makes it a lovely place to travel around. Apologies for the cheese but I feel we may come back real Colombiaphiles, so beware of us!

Next blog will include our waterfall/tarzan experience in San Gil. Exciting....

Into the mountains

Days 3/4

Kranky croc hostel, Bogota > Renacer hostel, villa de leyvas

As I write this from a hammock, whilst looking out at a panorama of the Colombian highlands, perfectly warm at 7:30 am, I feel pretty lucky! 

We now find ourselves in the beautiful village of Villa de Leyvas, a fairly touristy 'stop-off village' for travellers and Colombians alike. For those who know Norfolk I would describe it as a Colombian Holt.

Better just catch up on the backlog of the past couple of days. On day 3, we finally made the famous trip to the top of the Montserrate. Unfortunately the chance of uploading photos has not yet arisen but the best way to describe the view would be through picture. The three of us and our adopted friend Nick took the rickety funicular (train) up to the top. With clouds looming, it felt like a race against time, but on arrival, there was a pretty clear view of Bogota. I ignorantly thought that our little tour of the previous day had shown us a good chunk of the city, but seeing it from this view, stretching round the mountain and far off into the hazy distance, coupled with the knowledge that there are 8.3 million inhabitants, I was proven very wrong. The chapel at the top of the mountain was very simple, truly devoted to religious locals, not the camera-clad touristy riffraff like ourselves. We touched on a 'tat-market', as I like to call it, where I characteristically bought some tat, hat earrings for 3000 pesos (£1). Happy with my purchase I went to see what Bean was looking at, a shot glass in a hoof, and tried to convince her it would be heavy to carry around for the whole trip...! When I get the chance I will put up photos of Montserrate.

In the afternoon, we visited the museo del oro (gold museum) which took an individual approach to teaching us about South American history, through the importance of gold to each generation of South Americans. We were appreciative of this, of course, but 3 floors of gold, and many never to be looked at again photos later we were flagging. We returned to kranky croc, our little haven, and started rounding up the troops for a night out. 

A local who was 'friends with the hostel' convinced us to follow him the 'la zona rosa' area if bogota, a 20 min taxi ride across town. Despite the club of choice having prices comparable to the UK and us 'hard-done-by' backpackers feeling a little scammed, when a local Colombian band came onto stage, the dancing began and we were placated. After the band the salsa started and I decided that having taken dance lessons before this trip would have been far more useful than most of the preparation that I did. We were also shamed by Lizzie, who had clearly done this before...!

And so we woke up fairly early, heads a little sore, to catch our bus to villa de leyvas, a 4 hour ride north of Boggy. We said our goodbyes to the kranky croc team, had a team photo (cringe) and vowed to cross paths again at a later date. We have all been impressed by how friendly everyone has been so far :)

The bus ride up here was...memorable. Genuinely felt like we were back in the uk because we spent so much time on the left hand side of the road (they drive on the right here). We also got our first taste of the Colombian countyside, of which we had high expectations. The highlight for me was when a fight broke out between mother nature's good and evil sides; a rainbow in the east and billowing clouds with sunrays poking out at all angles to the west. They really were vying for our attention, but due to the crisp colours of the rainbow, that was what I chose to capture (badly) on my camera. 

We arrived 5 hours later and made our way to the Renacer hostel, situated up a hill - tiring to get to but worth it for the views. It does sort of feel like paradise here. 

Overall we're all content, our little trio is gelling quite well!!

A demain!

Discovering Bogota

Day 2

Kranky croc hostel, Bogota

Day 2 was a day of exploration and discovering the varied capital that is Bogota.

Having not yet adjusted to the new time zone (6 hours -), we were all up and about by 7am. We spent a good couple of hours getting ready and deciding on our daily activities. Unfortunately we were soon to discover that the 1st of May, like in the UK, is a national holiday and therefore one of the few days that all tourist attractions (granted there aren't that many!) are closed. So with the gold museum, history of policing museum and all shops shut we decided to wander. We discovered that the 1st May does have its own, rather Colombian, charm. By this I mean there were multiple political protests and hoards and hoards (an hoards) of police kitted out to the nines, ready for any trouble. It seemed like controlled security though, we felt safe, and the locals were fairly peaceful in their protests, marching along with a rainbow of coloured banners fighting for 'liberty' of various kinds [sorry for vagueness].
 

The five of us (Shane and Nick included) found a little cafe called 'the corner', appropriately situated on a corner, and had breakfast. I chose the savoury pancakes which were very tasty, but I can see a pattern forming with the previous evening`s plate of meat and chips in terms of healthy eating.

After this we decided to head up to Montserrate, the mountain that looms ominously over the city, which houses an angelic looking church and the obligatory statue of Jesus. As we approached the equally ominous looking cable car that we were to take to the top, a dark grey cloud lowered itself to the top of the mountain, obscuring any possibility of a view. We decided that it was an activity best saved for clear skies..!
 

As the rain began to fall [the whether is a subject I don't want dwell on, as, after receiving a text from Mum this morning, we think it might be sunnier & warmer in the UK :( ] we went on a hunt for a kagoul, a hunt which failed desperately, leaving us with one very bedraggled Bean.  On this journey we did see a mini uprising consisting of a group of youngsters throwing paintballs at a building on a corner of town where the police were absent. Surrounding locals were calm but turned around, choosing not to continue towards the kafuffle, so we did the same but kept watching from afar. I was joking about imagining a wall of the police marching from behind to put an end to it when lo and behold, a wall of police (kitted like robocop) on bikes descended on the group which quickly dispanded. After this a police van arrived which aimlessly fired water canons onto the pavement, apparently as a final deterrent, but all traces of the trouble makers were long gone. This did not perturb us at all, as it seemed like a group of university students just being university students. Personally, however, I would not have liked to have challenged the May 1st army of police!
 

We made our way back to the hostel, drenched from the very British rain, and plonked ourselves in the communal area to decided on our plan of action post-bogota. We have decided to head up north towards the Caribbean coast, partly drawn by reports of temperatures of 30degrees plus and partly by rave reviews by almost everyone we have spoken too. We will leave the day after tomorrow when we have finally visited the top of Montserrate (Rain permitting).

 

Please feel free to contact any of us via my whatsapp, facebook, viber (a new skype-like discovery) or scorkie@hotmail.com as we have an abundance of internet here!

 

And off we go...

Day 1

Location: London, Madrid, Bogota 

Hostel: Kranky Croc hostel - yes, really.

Leaving Norwich at 4pm yesterday feels pretty far away right now as I write this from my fairly comfortable and very welcome bed in Bogota, a full 36 hours later. 

The wonderful hostess, our friend Raj kindly put us up for the first night of our transatlantic adventure. Our brigade of three were meeting for the first time which all went fluidly and we managed to get a wholesome 2.5 hours sleep before taxiing to heathrow. Travelling with STA, the student friendly travel agency, we were kindly advised to arrive three hours before our flight. Slightly ill-advised as the checkin desk didn't open until 2 hours before... But at least we were there. 

The first leg, London > Madrid went without fault and Spain receive a five star rating on its flight-transfer efficiency (a highly coveted rating I'm sure) where we promptly arrived to board the long haul flight to Bogota, capital of Colombia.

I'm not going to lie, Iberia airways are not the classiest of airlines and our ambitious hopes of having individual tv screens with lots of entertainment were quickly scuppered. Instead we got a small grainy TV screen about 10 metres away. Thank god the shows provided were brilliant, with an extensive biography on Ben Kingsley (of all people?!) followed by one on the varied and exciting career of Sandra bullock. 

The hobbit (aweful) and cirque de soleil followed this, two visual epics a little wasted on the miniscule screen but Lizzie and I were glad of the entertainment while Bean proceeded to accomplish a full 9 hours sleep! Some slightly dramatic turbulence and 11 hours later we landed safely, got through security and celebrated the relative simplicity of the journey. Luckily our bags too arrived safely so we set off to find our prebooked kranky croc hostel.

Like moths to a flame a couple of other English backpackers quickly sought us out as looking foreign, so we made our introductions like a prebooked tour group and bypassed the taxi-hailing gauntlet to share a nice authorised taxi to the hostel. Kranky croc seems to have everything you'd need, beds, wifi, 'drinking tap water' [we'll see about that!],  and as a lonely planet endorsed place, we found many others like ourselves. I must say I felt quite relaxed (for me) and immediately at home.

While an understandably very tired Lizzie went to catch a well deserved 40 winks, bean and I went to get some food with the afforementioned taxi-sharers, Shane and nick. A huge plate of meat and chips later (one particular order being a rather suspect looking sausage with two potatoes) we called it a night, bedding down at 9pm (3am English time). Overall day 1 was pretty smooth and I have a good feeling about the rest of the trip :)

Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes - this is being done on an iPod so a little awkward!