Better late than never!

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Better late than never. Here is the last episode of our year and a half long jaunt around South America!



Our final destination was the much anticipated Colombia the 4th largest country in South America, after Brazil, Argentina and Peru, its size roughly equivalent to the combined area of France, Spain and Portugal. For many, Colombia is synonymous with Cocaine, kidnappings and corruption. The country does have more than its fair share of problems, but we had only heard stories about how beautiful the country is and how wonderful the Colombians are, from travellers we’d met on the road so we were really looking forward to seeing this country for ourselves.



After a long border crossing with huge queues on the Ecuadorian side and a short steep hill on entering Colombia, we arrived in the Colombian town of Ipiales. Only stopping briefly to buy a few snacks which cost thousands of pesos (1000 pesos is worth about 20p) we continued on the road out of town. What came next was an excellent descent in a very beautiful verdant valley along the river Guaitara. We passed a few small settlements on the way and stopped for lunch in a roadside restaurant where we were served a huge Colombian lunch of beans, rice, salad and roast chicken, one of many of the same to come.



It was raining a little as we set off again, our stomachs full, but that didn't detract too much from the scenery as the valley transformed into a steep gorge with waterfalls flowing in numerous places along the cliffs at the side of the winding road. Unfortunately our view was slightly obscured by the clouds that had settled along the top of the mountains but we had an excellent view of the raging river below. After about 40kms, when we reached a village at the bottom of the descent, the rain came on much more heavily. A huge climb awaited us to get back up to 2600m and the town of Pasto where we planned to stay the night. Given that it was pouring down, we had little chance of reaching Pasto before nightfall and that the road had a reputation for being dangerous we decided to try and catch a bus into the town.



We soon found out however that many buses running between small villages in Colombia are little more than minibuses which made it difficult to get a lift with the bikes. After about an hour of waiting and waving at passing busses, one finally stopped. We quickly dismantled the bikes while the passengers waited patiently. Fortunately we just managed to squash them in the small storage space at the back of the bus, although we couldn't close the doors afterwards!



When we arrived In Pasto it was almost dark and raining cats and dogs, the streets were flooded and the traffic chaotic. We plucked up our courage and cycled into the centre to find a hotel. By the time we arrived in the hostel indicated in our guide we were drenched from head to toe. Fortunately a warm shower awaited us. The friendly owner of the hotel told us that it had been raining hard all over Colombia and probably would be like that for the next few weeks. What wonderful news! (In the end it turned out not to be true!)



In the evening we went for dinner and a look around town. We were surprised by the opulence of this isolated town in the mountains. There were quite a lot of expensive shops and nice cars around. Apparently the town has become quite rich because of all the drug money earned in the area and spent in town. We took advantage of the unexpected comfort and had a good meal of some kind of potato cakes of which I have forgotten the name and then sat in a very European style cafe and watched a concert that was taking place in the town square, in the rain.



The following day it was raining again so we decided not to stick around. The road to Popayan, our next stop, was a huge descent through fantastic scenery but the road is notoriously dangerous for crime. If it had been good weather we would probably have taken the risk but as the weather was so bad we decided to see how easy it was to get the bus. In fact as soon as we arrived at the bus station we were approached by ticket touts who were actually fighting to take our bikes in their busses and so we went with the flow and ended up in the bus again. In the end we regretted it as the rain cleared up and the winding descent on the crest of the hills was superb. However the towns we passed through didn't look very welcoming so maybe we were best to take the safe option.



Nicknamed ‘The White City’ because of all the colonial whitewashed buildings, Popayan which lies about halfway between Bogota and Quito was founded in 1537 and quickly became an important religious and trade centre. Over the years its influence diminished and now it's a fairly quiet town disturbed only by passing groups of tourists who are attracted by the colonial architecture and the relatively close archeological ruins. During our visit to Popayan nothing much seemed to be happening, the town was very quiet and the locals in the guest houses and the shops that we spoke to seemed cold and fairly withdrawn compared to the rest of Latin America. Obviously first impressions like this are often just a question of luck, who you meet, the weather, the time of the day etc, but that is the impression we got. We stayed a couple of days in the town trying to get to like it better but we didn't have much luck. We packed our bags quickly one morning to try to catch the morning bus to the archaeological site 5 hours drive from the town but again no luck, the road was cut off due to a landslide!



We decided to cut our losses in Popayan and cycle on to Cali, the capital of salsa and city renowned for producing the most beautiful girls in South America. It was a place we'd really been looking forward to visiting but we were a bit disappointed. The city seemed to have no real heart, only a few grey squares around some busy grey streets in the small centre. Walking around the city centre we had to be careful not to trip over the men lying half conscious on the pavements. The poverty was striking and contrasted strongly with the road of expensive American style bars and restaurants on the main night strip in town.
The salsa clubs were out of town and I guess we should have stuck around to give them a try but it was Monday when we were there and we just didn't feeling like staying in the city to party. Seeing such poverty and people in such desperate conditions took away our party mood. We decided we'd had too much of big cities and towns and we needed to get out to the countryside and spend some time cycling.



So, after a difficult exit out of town and a heavy rain shower to cool us off we set off cycling up the Cauca valley, a fairly flat valley running north-south between the central and western Andes. This is one of the most fertile valleys in South America and we passed fields and fields of sugar cane, one of the main crops grown in this region along with soy beans.



In the evening we stopped in a small town called El Cerrito where we hoped we might actually get to meet some friendly locals. Everyone stared at us as we cycled through the streets but we didn't get any smiles. I went into a bakery to buy a snack and during the two minutes I was inside Edouard got asked three times for money and was told by a young man that we'd better not hang about in this part of town.



We cycled on to the town centre and found a small cheap worker's hotel run by a rather eccentric old lady. After sorting ourselves out we went out to eat and buy some provisions. The people we spoke to in the evening were again reserved and not over friendly. After being spoilt by the smiling, inquisitive, friendly South Americans all over the rest of the trip it was a bit disconcerting. It reminded us what people are like back in Europe!



It is of course understandable though that some people in Colombia are withdrawn and not full of joy given the terrible years of civil war they have been through. There had apparently been quite a lot of problems in this valley and probably still are repercussions now. I don’t think we can imagine the pain and the fear with which many Colombians have been faced with in recent years. In any case people weren’t unfriendly, just not as forthcoming and inquisitive as we were used to, which surprised us a little after what we’d heard about the country. However, as I mentioned before, meetings and first impressions are often just a question of luck and timing.



However as is always the way, things changed and the next day we had no rain and we met several wonderful people. Firstly in the morning we took a detour to cycle through a wetlands nature reserve called Laguna de Sonso and there we were welcomed enthusiastically by the ranger who gave us a guided tour around the reserve, pointing out all the different kinds of birds and talking a lot about the environment. He was really passionate about his job and was doing a great job sharing his enthusiasm with the visitors.



In the afternoon we passed through a town called Guadalajara de Buga, an important centre of pilgrimage and one of the most visited towns in South America. We happened to arrive on the day of the monthly outdoor mass and were surprised to find the small town full of people from all over the country. We didn't really understand why the place was so special so we paid a visit to the local museum where the young guide and his girlfriend took it upon themselves to give us a long tour of the museum and the church. We chatted with them about Colombia and Europe for most of the afternoon and exchanged email addressed before parting.



In fact we learned that the church was built on the site where in 1570 a peasant woman found a small crucifix just after having spent her only savings helping a neighbour. Her crucifix grew and grew until finally she had a life-sized replica of Christ in front of her. This apparition of Christ is called le Señor de Los Milagros (the miraculous Christ). The life-sized crucifix is now on display in the church and people come from far and wide to pray here for miracles. In the museum there is a whole room where the walls are covered with plaques which people have left with their message of thanks for miracles granted. There is also a room where others have left offerings related to their miracles, such as crutches or photos. The most common offerings by far though were connected with babies: baby shoes, bibs, cuddly toys etc. One of the worst disaster that could possible happen to a latino woman is that she can't have children, the South Americans love children and as soon as a couple are married, babies are eagerly awaited by all the family.



From Buga we continued north past more sugar cane fields to the larger town of Tulua founded on the Tulua river. Just before we arrived Ed's pedal fell off. All our equipment was really starting to show its wear and tear but we were hoping it would last out to the end. Luckily there was a little bike shop in the town where we were able to get a new set of pedals.



The next day we continued cycling along the flat valley, past several other small villages before we took a right turn and began to climb into the hills. We were heading to the low mountains of the Zona Cafetera, the coffee growing heartland of Colombia. We climbed steadily passed several large estancias where cattle were grazing in the fields. As the day went on and our legs got tired we realised that we probably wouldn't have enough time to get to the Le Tebaida, the village we were aiming for before dark and as I mentioned before, cycling after dark is not advisable. So we stopped at a Police checkpoint of which there are many in Colombia, and stuck out our thumbs. Almost immediately we were picked up by a farmer driving his small van back to Armenia (a large town in the direction we were going). In the van he told us he'd worked in manual jobs in Europe so we chatted about the countries he'd visited.



A few kilometres further down the road a group of upper class Colombians flagged us down to help them with a flat tire. Within a couple of minutes the scene was set. The older farmer was on his hands and knees taking the wheel off while the younger rich men stood watching and giving suggestions. Unbelievable. I had to bite my tongue not to say anything. They group didn't have a decent spare wheel so one of the group joined us in the van to take the flat tire to be repaired. We dropped him at the garage in the next village where he rushed off without giving the farmer a tip or anything. Some people are used to being served.



On arrival in the village of Le Tebaida we saw immediately that the atmosphere was completely different from in the valley below. The town square was full with people sitting outside drinking coffee and chatting, there were colourful jeep-taxis parked in the streets and the shops were full of people bustling in and out of the shops. This region has become relatively prosperous because of the lucrative coffee growing industry. The men in the village, who sat in small groups smoking and drinking coffee or beer, all looked very smart, dressed in trousers and shirts with cotton ponchos folded and draped over their shoulders and cowboy hats. It was quite like a civilized ‘wild west'.



As far as we could ascertain the two most common ways of drinking coffee in Colombia are in a big cup with about equal measures of milk and coffee, called a Pintado and short in a small cup with no milk but a lot of sugar, sometimes with sugar cane juice, called a Tinto. I found the coffee very good, but as I was mainly drinking Pintados I wouldn't really be in a position to judge.


Just a little anecdote about Colombian food: in the evening in La Tebaida we ordered a burger which came in a bun with lettuce, tomato, onions, ketchup, salad cream, some pink cocktail sauce and a very large quantity of thick pineapple jam- delicious (!). Then for dessert I ordered a fruit salad which came with ice cream as expected but which was also liberally covered with grated cheese, which I hadn't expected! We soon found cheese on desserts is a common thing in Colombia!



The next day was beautiful cycling through the hills and valleys of the coffee plantations. We took some very small country roads and passed several traditional farming villages and big farms. The flowers were in bloom and the skies blue. It was great to be cycling on the narrow lanes after the busier main road in the Cauca Valley. As tourism is developing in this area (mostly for Colombian tourists) several large coffee farms had converted some rooms and even built some swimming pools for tourists. They were not a budget option but as it was our anniversary of when we met we decided to treat ourselves and stop at one of them. The farm we chose was quite a way off the road and had a view over all the fields around. We spent a relaxing afternoon reading in hammocks and enjoying the peace and quiet. In the evening the owner came over to chat to us about his life and projects in Colombia. He split his time between managing the tourism on the farm and his life in one of the larger cities in the valley where his wife works in a clinic specialising in cosmetic surgery.



If you didn't already know cosmetic surgery is a huge thing in Colombia. Apparently Latinos working around the world come on special cosmetic surgery holidays to have several ‘nip and tuck’operations as the price is about a third of Europe or North America. The Colombians themselves also have a lot of surgery and judging by the women in the streets breast implants is a favourite. There are a lot of Barbie shaped women in Colombia! On that point there are a lot of rich people in Colombia, especially in the cities. From our perspective, Colombia seemed closer to Argentina than to the Andean countries of Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia in terms of development. However, as I mentioned before, there are a huge number of Colombians, especially from rural areas, who have been displaced by the civil wars and have been left with nothing. The difference between rich and poor is extreme.



After our rest on the farm we cycled onwards to the colonial village of Salento, the gateway to a beautiful Cocora valley. This area has been nicknamed ‘little Switzerland’ for its verdant hills and snow capped mountains. We stayed in a campsite at the foot of the valley. The following day we cycled up through the valley which was dotted with the "Palma de cera", the world's tallest palm variety, growing up to 60m high and with a life span of up to 200 years. Apparently, this is the only place in the world with such a landscape.



When the road came to its end, in the heart of the valley, we left our bikes and climbed higher on foot to reach a part where the hills were covered by a thick cloud forest. Entering the forest was like stepping into another magical fairy tale world where the exotic plants, trees, flowers, and vines seemed as alive and active as us. We could almost feel them growing around us. It was a really interesting place to walk with so many different plants to see. We would have like to stay longer and trek through the forest to the huge plains and lakes in the mountains above the clouds but it wasn't the best season for trekking with the potential for a lot of rain and heavy clouds obscuring the views so we decided to save that for the next trip.



We had a couple of huge hills out of Salento and in the region around and so were very happy to arrive a couple of days later at Santa Rosa de Cabal, famous for its thermal baths. We paid a visit to one of the baths in the evening and were surprised to find just how luxurious it was. There were several large pools where you could swim and relax in the warm waters or take a shower under an artificial waterfall . The pools were set in a beautiful tropical garden at the base of some high cliffs over which a real waterfall came cascading down. At night lanterns were lit around the pools and gardens and carefully placed lighting in the cliffs emphasised the beauty of the waterfall. There weren’t many other people in the complex that evening so we had the pools almost to ourselves, it was wonderful.



It took us a couple more days, and a stopover in a small village where we were bombarded by local children all curious to hear where we came from, to reach the city of Medellin. On the road we met an Argentinean cyclist going in the other direction. He'd cycled up to Mexico alone and now was quite tired and looking forward to being back at home in Argentina. His big problem was that he didn't have the money to pay for a flight and so had to cycle all the way back! He was living on bananas, bread and porridge and sleeping in fire stations. We felt very fortunate to have the luxury of being able to pay for a hotel for the night when we needed it and for being together on the road. He seemed a bit fed up with the loneliness of cycling solo. I hope he managed to get a lift.



Medellin, second largest city in Colombia at about 1500m altitude was internationally renowned for being one of the most dangerous cities in the world and home of Colombian icons, such as drug lord Pablo Escobar and soccer player Andres Escobar. After Pablo Escobar's capture in 1982, an entire prison was built specifically for the man nicknamed "the billionaire godfather of international cocaine trafficking." This prison apparently is more like a three- or four-star hotel than a jail. In 1992, Escobar escaped, and was killed in a dramatic rooftop shooting. However, some believe he is alive today, using his riches to buy him expert disguises and fake passports.



Medellin is also where Andres Escobar was shot dead outside a bar, shortly after returning to Colombia from the 1994 World Cup, where he accidentally scored a home goal. "The Colombian defender was gunned down outside a Medellin, Colombia, nightclub on July 2, 1994, days after accidentally scoring an own goal in the World Cup," reported Michael Lewis, who covered soccer for the New York Daily News. "Escobar, who was 27, was shot 12 times as one of the gunmen shouted, 'Goal! Goal!'"



Now the city is much safer and the Colombians are very proud of this modern city with its very efficient Metro and sparkling shopping centres. We didn't stay long but just enough time to have a look at the main tourist sights. We particularly appreciated the huge bronze statues that adorned the centre of town, sculpted by the Medellin-born Artist Fernando Botero. The figures in Botero's statues are instantly recognisable by the their comical obesity, even the animals he depicts are larger than life and very rounded. His work was certainly popular with all ages in the city with everyone stopping to have their photos taken next to the huge statues in the city square.



In the evening we went to the decadent Zona Rosa, the restaurants, bar and night club area. The young, affluent Colombians were out in force, all dressed up to party and spend money. It was great to party but I was a bit disappointed to find it was much like any night-life in Europe or North America with international style bars and restaurants, branded drinks, big screens showing international concerts and clubs playing techno music. It was definitely a favourite place for young, single Europeans though...



From Medellin we headed back out the Antioquian countryside where we took some smaller roads to visit some traditional farming villages. At one point, when we were at a village built next to a huge artificial lake, we wanted to leave the asphalt road and take a short cut through a rural area indicated on our map. However, when we asked the locals for some information on the road they were not able to help at all. They immediately told us to stick to the safe road and go back the way we came. Even the Police advised that the rural area could be dangerous and we shouldn't try it but they didn’t seem sure really. We couldn’t be certain but we had the impression though that the locals had no real evidence to suggest it wasn't safe but were just over cautious. They had grown used to living in their area and only taking the major, safer roads and they had no intention or reason to explore any off the beaten track areas.



After a little deliberation we decided to play safe and go back the way we'd come. We hadn't studied the security situation enough to make an informed decision so we thought we ought to take the locals advice. It's true that when you are cycling and meeting normal people every day you can easily forget the security issues which you are reminded of more often in backpacker places. Even the huge army presence on the roads seemed normal to us after a while. It's difficult as a passing tourist to ascertain how dangerous Colombia actually is now. The statistics show that it is a lot safer than it was but the locals are still very wary.



We returned to the main route between Medellin and Bogota and cycled some winding roads through stunning scenery to arrive in the low plains of the river Magdalena Valley. Here the heat was stifling. A night we pitched our tent in a nature reserve called Rio Claro carefully avoiding the trails of the leaf-cutting ants. These ants work all day and night cutting leaves and carrying them back to their nest and have been known to destroy tents while the occupants were sleeping. Our tent was green too so we were a little worried. Fortunately the ants left us alone and we were only disturbed by the heat and some largish, unidentifiable creatures in the trees above us, maybe monkeys. In the morning we went for a walk in the reserve where the river Claro has cut a path through the rock creating a stunning marble canon in the humid forest. It was a beautiful place but it was very hot and we didn't feel it was a good idea to take a dip in the river because with the recent heavy rains the current was very strong.



With time running sort and the Caribbean coast beckoning, we took the bus the final part of the road to Bogota. We were determined to arrive before dark but the bus took much more time than anticipated and the sun was just setting as we arrived in the central bus station. This presented us with a dilemma, we were a long way from the area of the city with backpacker hostels, we didn't have a map and if Bogota was anything like Cali and Medellin we preferred not to be out at night with all our equipment on show. In the end we decided we should be Ok if we hurried as a lot of people were in the streets on their way home from work. So we asked directions and set off on our bikes. In the end it took us an hour to find the right area and almost another hour to find our hotel. It was quite stressful as we passed through some dodgier parts of town and people kept mentioning that we really should find somewhere to stop soon. However we cycled quickly to try to avoid catching people’s attention and finally got to a hotel safe and sound.



We could have been worrying excessively as Bogota is probably not that dangerous but the second evening we were not overly reassured as on the way back to our hotel we were passed by a young guy, not much more than a child, being chased by a Policeman. The Policeman fired a shot just in front of us, maybe into the air or maybe at the youngster, we couldn't be sure. In any case there were a lot of complaints from the people around that he'd used his gun against a child.



Compared to Cali and Medellin we much preferred Bogota. There are a lot of colonial buildings in the historical centre, some interesting museums and markets and a good, although confusing, public transport system. It is a huge, spread out city parts of which are very modern with huge shopping malls, international restaurants and posh apartment blocks. We got to see a fair part of the modern city as we went looking for clothes for our wedding and before we left for the coast I get measured up for my dress!



For the two weeks we had left we decided to cycle about 400km down part of the coast in Northern Colombia to arrive in Cartagena. Unfortunately we didn't have enough time to cycle the 500km or so to the coast so we took the bus once again, a torturous 24 hour journey.



Arriving on a Sunday in the hot dusty town of Rio Atcha we took a quick look at the sea and the beach, crowded with families enjoying their Sunday, and then we went to find something to eat. It was immediately obvious that this part of the country was completely different in terms of climate and culture to Bogota and Medellin. Many of the Costenas (people from the coast) are of African origin, descendants of the slaves who were bought over by the Spanish, so a lot of the culture, including the music, handicrafts etc has African roots. There are also a lot a lot of Indians around this part of the coast so the mix of cultures makes for a very different, very interesting Colombia.



From our first meeting with the Costenas, whether black or white we could see they have another attitude to life, more relaxed and cool than the people in the city and in our experience even more open and friendly. Often they reminded us of the Brazilians. On that first Sunday, we met several locals over lunch including a couple who wanted us to stay with them for a week so they could show us around. As they weren't around that particular evening and we wanted to leave the next day we thanked them for their offer but declined. If only we had more time! Later while Edouard was inside one hostel asking about prices I get chatting to Wilson, a engineer who lived in the area, and soon he too was inviting us to stay with him and his family.



As the hotel was expensive we took up Wilson's offer and went with him to his house. In the evening we had dinner with the family and we all went out together for a walk along the sea front and to see the Christmas tree in the town square. Lots of people were sat outside their houses enjoying the cool evening breeze. A few Indians had set out their handicrafts along the sea front, mostly woven bags and other textiles. Typically the family insisted in buying us some little souvenirs to remind us their town and our meeting.



It was very hot as we set off cycling the next day through very arid surroundings. Late morning we reached a small coastal park known for its flamingos. At the junction to the park we came across a small group of Indians with bikes who were trying to repair a puncture. We stopped to ask them if they needed any help. Only one spoke a little Spanish and they seemed very shy. The inner tube they were repairing was in a real state. Evidently they don't have glue and patches like most people (they probably can't afford such luxuries) so instead, to repair a puncture, they tie a knot in the spot around where the hole is, like tying a knot in a balloon. This inner tube already had a lot of knots. We lent them our pump and gave them our spare inner tube. It probably has a few knots in it by now.



The Flamingo reserve was in a beautiful location, a small shallow lagoon separated from the sea by a sandbank . It was very quiet when we arrived but a local villager acting as guide soon came to find us and offer his services. He took us and the bikes in a little canoe across the lagoon to see a place where turtles were being looked after before being released to the sea. After a short stop there we crossed the lagoon to find the flamingos. It's always a treat to see these beautiful, colourful birds. We were able to get quite close to them with the canoe. There were quite a few pelicans around too. After an hour or our guide dropped us in the bush at the other side of the lagoon and showed us the way back to the main road. It was really hot so we had a little siesta in the sand under a tree before cycling on.



As we cycled further south the vegetation became much greener and more tropical with lots of flowers and exotic plants. On one side of the road we could see glimpses of the sea and on the other the snowcapped mountains of the Santa Martha range. Late afternoon we quickened our pace as we'd be warned not to be out on the road after dark because of bandits and we were still 20km away from the next village. Reassuringly we were joined by a young local cycling home who we pretty much cycled with all the way to the village. Everyday he cycles 20km to his work place, then works in the banana plantations all day before cycling 20km home. And he still had huge smile on his face.



We arrived at the village before sunset and got a room in a basic hotel recommended to us by our new friend. It was stifling hot in the room so we had a quick shower and then headed straight out. Whilst we were out there was a huge thunderstorm that went on for hours with rain pouring through the streets. After waiting a long time to get home dry we eventually gave up and ran back to the hotel in the rain trying to avoid the biggest of the puddles. Back in the hotel we were greeted by a bunch of cockroaches, lovely!



The next day after a morning of cycling we arrived at Tayrona National Park, a beautiful coastal park noted for its beaches. We'd been looking forward to this. The park consisted of several beautiful bays normally reached on foot or on horseback along some trails through the jungle. We didn't want to leave the bikes at the park entrance so we did a bit of mountain biking through the mud, over the tree roots and up and down the slopes of the trail. Our reward was a beautiful camping spot in a stunning location in the grounds of one of the park hostels next to the beach. The following day we walked to some postcard perfect tropical beaches with fine white sand, turquoise warm sea and palm trees providing shade. There were hardly any people around and it was just perfect.



That evening walking back to our campsite we met a Canadian-Colombian couple, on holiday for a couple of weeks from London, who were really interested in our trip. They invited us to have dinner with them in their nice resort next door. We had some delicious huge sea food dishes and spent a lovely evening together. Then they returned to their classy bungalow and us to our tent!



From Tayrona it was only a relatively short distance to Taganga, a small fishing village with some nice beaches, recommended in our guide for its relaxed atmosphere. It was undeniably a very nice place so we stayed a couple of days. A few people we'd met had come for a few days and ended up staying months and one guy we met was looking to buy a place in the village. It seems Taganga is becoming an ever more popular backpacker location. I hope this little paradise won’t change too much.



It took us another couple of days cycling down the coast to reach Cartagena. It was hot but the cycling was fun with great views of the sea, pelicans flying overhead and the friendly Costenas beeping their horns and holding up the traffic as they slowed down the car to have a conversation through the window whilst driving. The locals were really friendly.


Just before arriving in Cartagena we made an amusing little detour to a small volcano where the locals and tourists go to bathe in the mud in the crater of Volcano. Of course we had a take a dip to see what it was like and the conclusion is that it was very strange indeed. The crater was pretty much bottomless, which is quite worrying untill you realise it is impossible to sink in the mud even if you try. You just sort of float around in it. It was very funny but not something that I would do regularly. Quite cool to say that you have soaked in the mud in the crater of a volcano though!!



Cartagena lived up to our expectations. It's a beautiful walled city with well restored colourful colonial architecture, narrow cobbled streets and pretty squares around every corner. Outside the historic walled city there are lots of markets and in the morning and evening it’s a hive of activity. The beaches around the city are fairly built up with high-rise apartment blocks just behind the beach but the sea is warm and the atmosphere friendly. The hawkers on the beach offering massages and selling drinks, fruit salads, T shirts etc are a little too persistent but you very friendly and funny, always with a huge smile whether you buy or not.



From Cartagena most people go on boat tours to some of the beaches just out of town. We decided to cycle to the most beautiful beaches, Playa Blanca, which was apparently only 20km out of town. 40km later after a river crossing and a long dirt road in the baking sun we were cursing the book which gave us the wrong information. However any annoyance was soon forgotten as we arrived at the magnificent Playa Blanca, one of the most beautiful beaches I've seen. We dropped the bikes and ran into the warm waters. In the evening we negotiated a trip back to Cartagena on a tour boat. It was a lot easier than cycling back!



After 4 days enjoying the beaches and the city of Cartagena we had to make the long 24 hour bus journey back to Bogota. There we spent a few days buying Christmas presents and visiting museums before it was time to take apart the bikes, box everything up and then catch the plane back to Europe.



We felt very nostalgic about the end of this wonderful trip but also ready to move on. We'd done what we had come to do and enjoyed every minute of it but all good things have to come to an end.



Doing the trip on a bike was a fabulous experience. At times it was hard but so worth the effort for the feeling of complete freedom and autonomy gained through travelling by your own pedal power. The pace of bike travel is just right aswell. On a bike you really have the chance to see subtle changes in the environment around you that you just don’t notice travelling by bus. You are also completely exposed to the weather which although sometimes uncomfortable really makes me feel alive. The other huge advantage the bikes is the opportunity this type of travel gives you to meet the locals. You always end up in non touristic places and are obliged to interact with the locals to ask for water, food and a place to say. The bikes are also great conversation starters!



We will certainly miss South America. The landscape of this vast and varied continent is at times mind blowing and the people are incredible . In a year and a half, with only one or two exceptions, everyone we met was friendly, open, generous and kind. I hope a bit of their attitude to life has rubbed off on us!

Thank you South America for providing us with an experience we'll remember all our lives!

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