Bolivia: One hell of an experience...!

Hostel Charcas, Sucre > Hostel los salores, Tupiza > various nameless, cold hostels in south Bolivia!!

Bolivia was certainly the least pedestrian of the four countries we have visited in S. America! In brief, La Paz beat us up pretty badly the first time round.  Due to the altitude (headaches, breathing issues, stomach issues...) and an impromptu stomach bug (when are they not!?), we managed one night out but otherwise spent time slowly exploring the highly contoured streets and brightly coloured shops. When the free walking tour, as interesting as it was to hear about the folklore and under-the-radar crime in Bolivia, ended early because Lizzie and I both chose the same moment to nearly faint, I must admit I was looking forward to getting to a quieter hostel at a lower altitude. I will return to La Paz, as we did, twice, in future blogs for a more comprehensive summary.

Sucre´s mirador

Said idyllic location was 12 hours south of La Paz, in Sucre, a medium sized, very pretty, touristic city that we had been advised to visit by many fellow travellers. Unfortunately, our hostel, Charcas, was one of Lonely Planet´s few fails with every adjective being contradicted almost in full (´clean´, ´hot water´, ´traveller´s favourite´...). Saying this, for 3 pounds a night for our own private room, we were happy enough. The previosuly mentioned stomach bug sadly left me in bed for a good chunk of our time in Sucre, but for Lizzie and Bean, the mirador cafe, offering wonderful views of the city, warm weather and friendly people, filled time perfectly. We spent three days here, mostly up in the mirador cafe (!) and set off for Tupiza, where we aimed to start our tour of South Bolivia and the salt flats.

Red rocks in tupiza

Tupiza was beautiful. Setting the backdrop for the dramatic end of the legendary ´Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kids´, walls of sharp, red rocks jut out in all directions, creating scenery that I have never seen before. Having only one day to spend here before we embarked on our salt flats tour, we chose to do a day of horse riding, in tribute to Butch Cassidy. Having not ridden for over ten years, I was slightly nervous, and perhaps more so once I actually saw the horses that we were supposed to ride! Lizzie´s rather pock-marked horse was the happy(ish) mother to a fairly new born foal, who was allowed to come on the tour with us. Luckily Lizzie is a dab-hand at horse rising, and so was unphased by the littleun trying to feed everytime we made a view-stop. My horse, supposedly the easiest horse to ride, did not particularly like our impromptu guest and flinched or set off trotting everytime he came close. Despite this, I managed to enjoy the fantastic scenery, the red rocks contrasting the beautifully blue sky, and only wobbled a couple of times! Half way through our journey, we stopped to climb a dramatic red canyon and got cornered here by a traditionally dressed Tupizan shepardess (or goatardess?) with her herd of 100+ goats. It was rather surreal, but certainly added to what was a memorable day. We slept well in our luxurious hostel (private room, warm showers and comfortable clean beds) and got up at the crack of dawn to start our four day journey to the Salt Flats in Uyuni.

...And what a journey it was. After a long first day in the car, we were caught in a rather dramatic storm on day two... An extract from the email I sent to Mum once we thankfully got back (alive!), apologies for the unfruitful language:

´Bit of drama on the flats...The company we went with were well reputed, 18 years of tours they said, but the issues with the cars started on day 1 when one group of girls in our tour group had to stay in a barn because their car conked out. We were secretly a little smug that ours was ok, but it was also very cold and i must admit i got a bit grumpy when i couldnt feel either of my feet on the first night (minus 10 maybe). 

The drama really started on day 2 just after a lovely spell in some 40 degree natural thermal baths. We set off into a fairly windy, snowy looking plane with 7 other cars. A snowdrift quickly set in and we quickly couldn´t see the other cars infront or behind us, and the drivers kept having to get out (gloveless) into the freezing cold to consult. We seemed lost but assumed it was ok and that this happened often. 4 of the cars quickly got separated from us and our group of 4 went looking for them, very difficult when visibility is about 1m, getting us further lost. We finally found their tracks and started following, still not able to see much for wind & snow, a real storm by now, and our car chose this moment to break down. 

For half an hour we sat with the doors open and four other drivers all freezing themselves trying to fix it. Lizzie and i were sent over to one of the other jeeps because we were freezing cold and luckily managed to warm up. Bean, unbeknown to us, was in our broken jeep for another hour while they tried to fix it. She came over to ours when they gave up after another hour, remarkably cheery. And so with 7 of us squished into 5 seats we set off (backpacks and sleeping bags still on the roof of our broken car) to find the hostel. The problem now that it was getting dark....

30 minutes later, the 3 cars were totally lost in the dark (still stormy), going over ridiculous terrain. Not gonna lie, I was pretty scared that this car would break down too as we would have had to sleep in it and we were all already freezing. I was super thankful to the others for being so wonderfully calm! 

So after 2 hours of this lost stormy driving, we spotted a light on the horizon, and headed towards it for 40 minutes of optimistic but very bumpy driving. On arrival, it turned out to be the equivalent of a desert mirage, and found that it was not a warm comfy hostel, but instead a reflector of a ´don´t go this way´ sign!! However, this did seem to put the drivers back on track and we soon found a hostel (not ours, but any hostel would have done at this point!). We got in at 9 oclock, remarkably only 3 hours late, but just happy to have found somewhere and not broken down. We quickly discovered that our driver, Dennis, had STAYED in the broken car with the cook to try and fix it, we were terrified that they would have to sleep out in the -25 degree weather. After some food, we got a horde of blankets (sleeping bags and backpacks could have been useful at this point, but they were busy being in the storm!) and had a restless nights sleep. Thankfully, when we woke, we discovered that the driver and cook had arrived with our bags late the night before, the car had somehow been fixed. They were remarkably cheery....´

Flamingoes

What an adventure! The worst storm for 5 years apparently. This drama aside, we saw some irreplacable views and day three in particular (the day after the storm) was stunning, with the sky having purged itself the night before, choosing now to shine a dazzling blue over a number of lagoons, a volcano and mountains. One particular highlight was the flamingo lagoon, where 100s of flamingos white, pink and black clawed their way through the shallow waters creating an unforgettable scene! This night we stayed in a hotel made of salt (yes yes, my heaven) at a reasonable and much warmer 3,500m. The cold and drama of the night before made this even more luxurious and we enjoyed a good meal with a couple of beers recounting our story to the other oblivious travellers.

the incredible salt flats

A 5:30am start the next day was the last of our early mornings, and we set off to catch the sunrise over the salt flats. Without a doubt, ending in Uyuni with the individual experience of the flats,  was an excellent choice. It is a little difficult to explain the optical illusion effect that the landscape creates. Stretching for over 1,200kmsquared, the vast expanse of ´flat´is unimaginable. At one point, I thought I had seen where we were to watch the sunrise; a small island perhaps 100m tall in the middle of the flats maybe a couple of kilometres ahead. After half an hour of driving towards it, the small mound had developed into a 6000m mountain, a good 100km away. Sunrise was incredible, with the orange orb peaking its head over the dead flat horizon and rising slowly into day. We visited an odd island in the centre of the salt flats for further views (and cactusses?!), took the typical ´photos locos´ where you can create optical illusions, making yourself look disproportinally big or small, and arrived back in the small ugly town of Uyuni at midday. We found a couple of restaurants and sat chatting with some friends we had made until the evening, when we took another fateful nightbus (punctured tire) back up to La Paz for round 2.

NB: Photos are not my own, mine are slightly better ;) but I will have to upload photos another day as computers have become a little basic once again! Ciaooo xx

Peru in a flash

Desert Nights, Huacachina > Wild Rover (#1), Arequipa > Bothy Hostel, Puno (Peru) > Wild Rover (#2), La Paz (Bolivia)

The bus ride away from the strange bubble that was Mancora offered views that completely contrasted any that we had seen so far on our journey. Having barely escaped the hostel in Mancora, we had only been vaguely aware that much of Peru´s north and west coast is desert. For the entire 26 hour journey to Huacachina, a sandboarding hotspot 4 hours south of Lima, we were exposed to nothing except sand dunes, desert, sand covered mountains and small, sandy towns. The  landscape variation (or lack thereof) was a welcome change, and the roads even more so, as the Peruvian government have clearly put more into their highway & bus systems than Colombia and Ecuador. With our best night´s sleep on a bus under our belts (meal and four decent films included) we arrived at the isolated oasis-town of Huacachina.

Huacachina, as described by the lonely planet, is somewhere many travellers get lost for days. By this, they don´t mean in the vast dune covered desert which surrounds it, but instead in the comfortable hostels, dune buggies and comicly named bars that surround the oasis. Trying to dispell a vague sense that we were surrounded only by gringoes, we certainly appreciated the dramatic contours surrounding the green(y brown) oasis, where the horizon was lost to the sand dunes standing hundreds of metres tall over the town.

Huacachina oasis & sand dunes

Having earmarked only one day to experience Huacachina, we spent our first morning clawing our way up the main dune that looked over the oasis. It took a slightly easier than expected 40 minutes to reach the top, whereby many photo opportunities were fully exhausted and we sat enjoying the view, and the heat, whilst watching some professional sandboarders. It seems to me a sport only to be enjoyed by the most hardcore, as the climbing to sandboarding ratio is rather imbalanced..! Running down the dune was by far the most fun part, as the three of us bounced down like Niel Armstrongs on the moon, safely making it to the bottom in a matter of minutes. 

A falafel lunch later, we prepped ourselves for the real activity of the day and belted ourselves into a sturdy looking buggy, which had 14 seats and a roll cage. From the word go, the driver, clearly well practiced, treated the dunes as though they were a roller coaster. He revved up the dunes only to tip straight over the top and drop down the 100 metres on the other side. Poor Bean in the front looked terrified while Lizzie and I whooped and hollered with the rest of them in the middle. After about 10 minutes of this pleasure we stopped for a `photo-op´ before continuing 5 minutes to our first sandboarding location. Having never snowboarded, I was relieved to find that no vertical position was required, and it was really body-sandboarding whereby we were pushed down the dunes on our stomachs, headfirst. This was not much of a consolation, but after seeing Bean make it safe to the bottom (always the guinea pig!) I gave it a go. `Elbows in, hands in, legs out`, in 10 seconds I had been prepped and pushed and was on my way down hair whooshing, sand spraying and me terrified I´d veer off in some unruly direction unlike my predecessors. Veer I did not and was fully pumped with adreneline when I reached the bottom in one piece. Fortunately, Lizzie followed, similarly flushed and happy on arrival and we were scooped back into the buggy for ´uno mas grande?`. Uno mas grande turned into quatro mas grandes, with the fourth being particularly gruelling with a blind dip in the middle, but with each hill we gained confidence and enjoyed it more. We returned to camp cheery with the feeling of well-spent money and adrenaline. The next morning we set off early for Nazca, a short, 2 hour bus ride away.

 

Nazca monkey

  

Nazca hands

For those of you who have not heard of the Nazca lines, they are a great mystery to the Peruvian people. Stretching for miles over the south Peruvian desert, hundreds of white lines were once etched into the sand, only to be seen from the first planes to fly over in the 1920s. On discovery, over 300 areal pictures were revealed, depicting many well known objects including a monkey, some hands, a hummingbird, a condor and an astronaut (although I suspect that this was not exactly what the designers had in mind!). The mystery lies in that noone really knows when they were created, who by or why. One theory suggests it may have been an extensive calendar used for crop growing...but despite devoting their whole lives to it, numerous scientists have been otherwise stumped. As scientists not wanting to be stumped, Bean and I opted for the mirador (viewpoint) option, rather than the microlight option that Lizzie took.  Bean and I soon found ourselves stranded on the highway in the desert, next to the apparent mirador, not another soul for miles around. A rickety climb to the top later, we stayed just long enough to snap a picture of the ´hands´ and the ´tree´. Pleased to have seen them, but worried for our safety, we cautiously made our way back down, entertained ourselves with some novelty jewellery on sale, and headed back to Nazca town centre. Meanwhile, hundreds of metres overhead, in her microlight, Lizzie was getting a rather different perspective of the lines. Although offering full views of 16+ of the most famous etchings, the flight proved a challenge in itself and Lizzie returned after a few hours with some decent photos, but very pleased not to have vomitted, unlike the weaker stomached 50% of her aircraft. We hopped on the bus that evening to our next stop in Peru, Arequipa.

Arequipa

Arequipa is a city situated 10 hours south of Nazca, both protected and threatened by three intimidatingly beautiful volcanoes in various compass directions. The volcanoes, probably rather violently, once donated their lava, also known as ´sillar´, to the construction of the hundreds of the white walled buildings that line the streets of the city. Arriving to fairly murky weather, the city´s beauty was not revealed until later, when the sun came out and lit up the architechture. After another less-than-comfortable night bus, we spent our first day in Arequipa slowly exploring the streets and getting a feel for the relaxed atmosphere. A friend that we made in the hostel, Andy, introduced us to a market on the other side of town. It was exactly the kind of place I had been trying to find; a real, buzzing local market with everything you might need from bags, to juices, to frogs, to batteries, to goats´ heads. Andy took us throught the dense isles to the back of the market where lied a multitude of ´jugo natural´ (juice) stalls. He had already befriended one stall owner, who gave him her own conconcoction containing eggs (ugh!) and us our standard choice of ´mango y maracuya´(mango/passionfruit). Very satisfied, tired but well-fed, we got an early night´s sleep in our Irish themed ´Wild Rover hostel´ (a name you will hear again).

The next day was our first day devoted to shopping. Arequipa is the first city we had visited with a comprehensive selection of shops, mainly focussing on the sale of alpaca goods. We appropriately bought what are known as ´gringo hoodies´, alpaca jumpers with ´íncan´designs and alapacas all over them. Although we regrettably looked like everyone in our hostel (bar lizzie who splashed out on an enviable baby alpaca knitted number) these hoodies were to save our lives in the weeks to come. Other purchaces included socks, gloves, hats...you see where this is going (...to Bolivia!). A trip back to the market for a stuffed pepper lunch (which our stomachs did not appreciate) and to the mirador (viewpoint) for a slightly disappointing view, comprised the rest of the afternoon. The Wild Rover had a good atmosphere and after a wonderfully typical peruvian dinner; alpaca for me (DELICIOUS), local shrimp bisque (chuipe de camaron) for Lizzie and guinea pig stew for Bean, we headed out to the UV themed party at the hostel. Lo and behold, who turns up unannounced, but Shane & his travel buddy, Brent, (of our filght out to Bogota, Santa Marta, Mancora), and we spent a great night catching up.

Puno

With the obligatory sore heads, we clambered our way out of bed to catch a horrific bus (hangover aside) to Puno, a town on the edge of the highest lake in the world, lake Titikaka, at around 3,800m. Little had we known that Arequipa would be the last altitude-free place, with unlimited air, for a few weeks! We stopped at Bothy hostel, an oddly Scottish themed hostal that had nothing Scottish about it, except the cold weather. A very welcome pizza later (with Lizzie unfortunatley feeling the altitude), we cocooned ourselves in many blankets and hit the hay.

We only had a fleeting affair with Puno, where we climbed a mirador to see lake Titikaka, did some salsa here as music ws being pumped out over the rooftops, and walked down to the lake to see it up close. We caught the afternoon bus out of Peru to Bolivia´s capital La Paz.

Obviously, I have fallen behind somewhat with the blogs and for this reason, I will only brush over or first visit to La Paz and Sucre (middle Bolivia), partly selfishly, because I was ill, but partly because there are good tales to tell of our trip to Tupiza in the south and the four day drama over to the Uyuni salt flats.

Catch up soon chicos y chicas!

(NB. Photos are not mine, USB is not working here :( )

Heading to Perahhh

Plantas y blanco, Baños > La Escalinata, Cuenca (Ecuador) > Loki hostel, Mancora (Peru)

After a fairly hectic morning sorting out a bus, and an emergency 'jugo natural' stop (natural juices, particularly mango and passion fruit, are our saviour out here!) we caught a 4 hour bus over to baños. Said destination is a fairly well reputed city, known for its natural baths created by mountainous springs and heated by the enormous volcano (name forgotten) which overlooks the Baños valley.  

  

Roof terrace with view in Plantos y blanco

We had made the foolish mistake of failing to prebook a hostel on arr. in Banos, but we quickly managed to find a decent room in the rather confusingly named 'plantas y blanco' (plants and white, the topic of many discussions but apparently a reference to the odd decoration theme). P&B's most attractive feature was a hexagonal roof terrace complete with cafe and 360degree view. In every direction, the mountains (now definitely towering mountains, not hills) overlooked us, with papa volcano standing snow-capped above his comparatively small neighbours.  

We had only reserved one full day in baños, on which we hoped to visit the natural baths and take a trip to one of the many spas that line the streets. As we approached the baths, we realised that Sunday may not have been a wise choice. It looked like Baños' entire tourist population had beaten us to it, squeezed together in the relatively small baths, all sporting matching shower caps (quite an amusing sight). We decided to return in the early hours of the following morning. Instead, we set off to earn our lunch by doing one of the locally suggested hikes. 

View from Banos mountain

300 steep steps and some uphill walking later, we found ourselves high up one of the mountains, looking out over Baños alongside a rather crude statue of the Virgin Mary. Once we had caught our breath (I blame the altitude, still over 2000m above sea level) the view of the mountains was spectacular, and this time we could really gauge the size of the town and decided it was a bit of a blot on the wonderfully wild landscape! We descended in half the time to hunt out some food. 

We spent the afternoon hanging around a delicious cafe, Casa Hood, where they screen films daily. Our film? 'Midnight Express' about a man who got stuck in a Turkish prison for smuggling marajuana. Quite a...um... surprising watch if anyone ever has the pleasure. The spa got ousted in replace of food and film so although a fun day, we felt like we had to do something 'Baños' before leaving the next day.  

For this reason, bleary eyed at 5:30 the next morning, we stalked our way over to the natural baths for an early morning dip to avoid the crowds. Donned in our very own shower caps, but in slightly less crammed conditions, we got in the luke warm bath, and then upped our game to the super hot one. Surrounded, even at this early hour, by a fair few retirees, it was quite a surreal experience watching the sun come up. Refreshed, very heated (the hot bath was dizzyingly so) and well woken, we headed to the bus terminal to get on our way to Cuenca, 10 hours south of Baños and still in Ecuador. 

And so began one of the smoothest bus routes we've done (metaphorically speaking, roads still very windy). We were ushered quickly onto the right bus, caught a connecting bus by a very close 2 minutes (avoiding a 6 hour wait) which followed a beautiful mountain road that transported us blindly, but effectively, through a cloud. In addition, the journey took only half the time we had anticipated, so we arrived 5 hours early, giving us a good afternoon in Cuenca. 

Cuenca was a last minute decision. Instead of powering through Ecuador following a slightly awkward bus route to the Peruvian border, this white-stoned city provided a nice break in the journey. As the third largest city in Ecuador, it seems well developed and offered pretty cobbled streets and good restaurants. A particular favourite spot of ours was 'cocoa y canel' ('chocolate and cinnamon') where we had an incredible chocolate pizza! 

Our hostel in Cuenca was a different experience. We had been under the impression that buzzing hostels were thin on the ground, and so booked a cheap private room in what turned out to be a very small hotel. A heavily pregnant woman took us to our room, a small, very quaint number, and put some curtains up on the windows which looked out into the corridor. The three beds could not have been much closer together, but the privacy was still very welcome after 5 weeks of room sharing. Sleep came quickly after a very expensive Italian meal, and we prepped ourselves for a morning of exploration in Cuenca. 

Bean, a llama and some incan ruins...

Following a delicious breakfast which included a 'humilas', a local snack of corn wrapped in leaves and heated with cheese, the focus of our day was visiting some Incan ruins in the old settlement of Pumapungo. Impressive as they were, we tended towards the 'fauna' section of the park which randomly boasted llamas, parrots, hawks and toucans. We also saw the famed 'shrunken heads', which were literally a collection of human heads that had been ritually shrunken. Info on how this is actually done was a little thin on the ground, but we learned that, sadly, Ecuadorean law prevents it from being done to human skulls these days. It is, however, still permitted for sloth skulls (?!).

Parrot in Pumapunga

Cuenca was certainly a nice place to spend the day, and a stark contrast to the bustling streets of Quito (which, in retrospect I was perhaps a bit harsh on) and the touristy Baños. We left Ecuador that evening feeling like it had certainly been worth a visit - perhaps a return to visit the Galapagos islands one day when we have some (lots of) spare cash!?! 

Our first stop in Peru took us back to the sun; Mancora. Mancora is a typically gringofied surfer town on the north, pacific coast. We arrived knackered at 6am and promptly fell asleep on some 3x3 metre beds situated around a luxurious swimming pool at Loki hostel. 

Loki swimming pool

Loki, Loki, Loki *shake and hang of the head*, certainly not our most cultural stop by far and very possibly the reasoning behind the 'gap yah' video that was so popular years ago. With all signs pointing to a very lively and well stocked bar and no signs pointing to any other activity except sunbathing we accepted our fate and awaited the evening's imminent debauchery. Here I shall swim in a sea of euphemism and leave you in the knowledge that I was very off form for pretty much two days following that night. A particular highlight of Mancora is that it is heavily defined on the gringo trail and, with a capacity of 160 people, usually fully booked, we bumped in to perhaps 5 different groups of friends that we had met all over Colombia and Ecuador, one being Shane, the first person we met coming off our flight in Bogota. In addition we made a new collection of friends who we may or may not cross paths with at a later date. 

Us and shane from Bogota in Loki
 (sorry about the photobomber)

So Mancora came and went in a sunny, sea-y blur, no surfing was done, and a final miserable night was spent by me in our dorm because a loud voiced *insert swear-word here* was sick all over his bed and the wall so my optimistic hopes for an early night were literally puked on. Should have been sensible and joined Bean and Lizzie on a final night of celebration with the crew. That'll teach me!

In fear that we were beginning to run out of time on our adventure, we powered down the west coast of Perah in one fell swoop, and landed in Huacachina, a sandboarding hotspot 4 hrs south of Lima, 25 hours later. 

More to come soon, sorry I've been MIA, just having toooo much fun haha

Crossing borders

La Serrana, Salento > El Viajero, Cali, Colombia > Vibes, Quito, Ecuador

On leaving Medellin, we followed the route that most people seem to take in this part of Colombia, and headed to the heart of Colombia´s coffee region, Salento. The bus ride was relatively painful, due to our self-inflicted lack of the sleep, but much improved by, yet again, awe inspiring views of sharp drop mountains flourishing with neat rows of crops and bright green jungle. Contrasted against the clear blue sky (sod´s law that travel days are the most beautiful), I didn´t even need the ´pop-out colour´ function on my camera (!) to make it look spectacular. 

Salento views

On arrival in Salento, we took a rickety old jeep up to La Serrana hostel, a ´country farm´ type hostel on a mountain ridge and 20 minute walk out of town. Being out of the centre bought with it wonderful 360degree views, and the comfort offered by the hostel was very welcome. With plush, leather armchairs, an extensive DVD collection and breakfast included, we weren´t complaining (well, not after some sleep that is...!). Salento town centre was surprisingly pretty, with streets of nic-nac shops and tasty eateries. As is inevitable down here, we bumped into most of the other travellers who have been doing the obligatory Medellin > Salento > Cali route, no more so than in ´Brunch´, a locally owned but not locally themed burger bar which was one ´must-visit´of Salento.

Coffee dry-roasted on a hob

Well fed and well rested on our second and last day, we took on the coffee tour, run by an Anglo-Austrailian who has been running a hostel-come-coffee plantation in Salento for 10 years. Tim was certainly enthusiastic, which helped me to turn a blind eye to the slightly tired jokes he spouted during the tour, and we thoroughly enjoyed watching the journey of the dear Colombian coffee bean from plant to cup. There were, I think, 24 steps in this process, including dry roasting the shelled beans on a hob, and the coffee itself was certainly one of the better cups that I´ve had on this trip. Colombia is number four in the world for coffee production, and it seems it could climb to number one if there was not so much competition between growers, who all want to sell separately but therefore don´t have the means or the land-space to sell on mass like some other countries. Tim admitted that it is very difficult to make money from coffee production, thus explaing that he is taking a new approch; doing personalised coffee so that you can buy a row of coffee plants that they will grow for you, keep you up to date with the progress and finally send over your coffe, fully packaged. A nice present for a true coffee lover methinks.

From Salento, we made the short journey down to Cali, known as the Salsa heart of Colombia. Cali attracts not only tourists, but also many Colombians, looking to go to one of the hundreds of Salsa bars, or get a few lessons. The city itself was not pretty, with high-rise buildings and a hefty crime rate, we tended to stick to our oasis of a hostel, El Viajero (a chain, we stayed in El Viajero in Cartegena too), which had a pool and free salsa lessons in the evening. The salsa lesson was rather beyond me and Bean, starting with the simple 1,2,3-1,2,3 backwards/forwards stuff but quickly jumping to toe, heel, cross, toe, heel, cross with turns. I was crying with laughter at our malcoordination, even the teacher seemed a little dispairing. That evening we went to a salsa club, which was rather more upmarket than our previous salsa venues, with waistcoast-wearing staff and table service. The tables, too, were all positioned around the dancefloor, so that it felt more like a competition than ´just for fun´. Luckily, most of our gringo group were amateur to intermediate, and so I managed to get away with very few dances. Phew.

Aside from the salsa, Cali didn´t boast much else, so after a day of lounging by the pool with books, we embarked on the extensive trip to Ecuador´s capital, Quito. With heavy hearts to be leaving such a wonderful country, we took a ten hour bus to the border, whereby we literally walked between the two countries (although our taxi driver accidentally dropped us in Ecuador (?!?)). The only stalling at the border was for a brief lecture by a number of mask wearing people on a flu virus going around Colombia and Venezuela. This was not the most encouraging introduction to Ecuador, but we soon got ourselves on a bus to Quito and arrived early afternoon.

Vibes hostel was apparently the 2013 winner of best hostel in Ecuador. If this is so, we didnt have high expecations of Ecuadorian hostels. With Lizzie and Bean harbouring strong allergies (Bean has been sneezing for most of the trip, reason unknown, and Lizzie is allergic to dust) we tried not to spend too much time in the hostel. It sounds like we have got too comfortable with fancy hostels, but Colombia´s hostel network is so well mapped out, and reputation is key to this, so they all tended to be well maintained. Saying this, Vibes was at the heart of La Marisca, an area situated between the old town to the south, and new town to the north. The streets of La Marisca are lined with restaurants, bars, clubs, cafes and, in my opinion, had a great atmosphere (although we had been warned of high crime rates). 

El Panecillo, Quito

On the subject of high crime rates, we did discover this on our exploration of the old town the next day. After a fairly fruitless morning trapsing around Quito´s old town (which on paper is a UNESCO heritage sight with many sights to see...just on paper mind), we were considering a hike up to the beautiful El Panecillo, literally translated as ´little bread loaf´which hosts an enormous statue of the virgin Mary. This overlooks the city and I couldn´t take my eyes off it. We got to the bottom of the staircase to this but read in the trusty lonely planet that the stairs were fairly dangerous and so decided against the climb. Just before this, I had put my backpack on my back in preparation for the climb, rather than on my front for safety. As we walked back to the centre for lunch, a boy/man passed us and aggressively grabbed at my backpack. Luckily he had caught my eye as we walked so I quickly turned to avoid him ripping it off my back/ getting into the pocket. The fact that this had happened on a busy street in broad daylight with police EVERYWHERE was quite nervewracking and so, to soothe our souls, we headed to a very safe, if slightly expensive cafe in Plaza Santa Domingo. I don´t want to be unfair to Quito, as we did visit a beautiful Basillica and an extensive museum on Ecuadorian history, but this incident, as well as a slightly below par hostel was not giving us the best impression of the country!

To remedy this, and because it was a Friday, we spent three hours with our books, coffee and cakes in ´The Magic Bean´cafe, had a very cheap local almuerzo (Ecuadorian Menu del Dia) and joined our fellow hostellers for a fun night out. We left swiftly the next morning, heading to Baños, our next (and, hate to say it) final destination in our quick tour of Ecuador.

If you have made it to the end of this one, medal´s on its way.

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!!