Coast mish

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Well that little side trip to Medellin turned out to be a 2week residency filled with great people and lots of dancing... my clases of salsa were excellent, so when they finished I took up a few more of Merengue and Porro which were just as cool if not cooler... I kept meeting great people and feeling very at home everywhere I went, I think Medellin is definately a place I will re-visit one day and would reccomend to anyone interested in travelling through Colombia.
The only thing that helped me drag myself away, was the Carribean coast calling me for some beach time before going back to Argentina for Christmas, so thursday arvo after sending off a few belated emails I caught the metro to the north end and started walking. The $60 bus fee had seemed way too rich when I was enquiring back at the bus terminal, but as I was resting on the safty barrier after 2hrs walking uphill with no rides, a scene unravelled before my eyes that made me start to think that maybee it wasn't so steep after all. A little ute loaded up to the sky with tables and chairs pulled out to overtake a tired old Bedford truck that was having the same trouble as I was trying to climb the mountain... all the same he didn't want to lose pole-position to this little wanna-be, so he put the boot down and managed to hold the youngun off for a couple of blind corners. Then the passanger of the ute(obviously tired of these childish games) produces a hand-gun and blasts a bullet through the drivers door of the bigger truck... who finally admitts defeat and gives way to the triumphant, horn-tooting Clint Eastwood who cruises off into the horizon leaving the limping, rusty old Bedford in his victory smoke.
Russ keeps walking, brain chewing on a million options,(something he probably should of encouraged before starting this little "adventure"), maybee the trip costs $60 because no-one dares hitch-hike this 16hr trip, so the bus companies can charge what they like... maybee no-one's picking me up because generally the people who roam around these parts are of a bad nature... hopefully all those bullet holes in the road signs is just the police having target practice... and so on. Another hour went by and it was getting dark so I started thinking about where was going to be a good place to pitch my tent for a sleepless night. But when I knocked on a farm house door to ask for some water my luck changed dramaticly, or you could say that God stopped messing with my head. I was greeted by a sweet old lady and a couple of her kids and their kids, who invited me in for a refreshment and some bread... which turned into dinner, fireworks, poker and rum with the oldies after the kids went to bed, my own bedroom, and a hosing down of some natural liquid to take out the "aches and pains" of my boby, which was like deepheat x10, all over my back and legs applied 2 or 3 times by a slightly drunk, teary-eyed 65 year old Grandma who was giving me the whole family story starting from her grandparents.... I soon drifted off into a deep sleep thinking about the best and "out of the movies" part about this whole situation... the fact that they'd scored me a lift in the back of their nieghbours truck at 7o'clock the next morning, who was driving just about all the way to Cartagena to deliver a load of double bed mattresses - you little ripper!!!
So now I'm at the beach, and spent all of yesterday just swimming in the warm Carribean ocean and talking to Lucho, some cool guy who's going to give me a tour of "his city" later on today.
Big love God, big big love.

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