I left my heart in Colombia

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Buenos Dias,

I´m getting pretty bad at the old weekly update aren´t I? I can firmly say that I am now living on Latin American time now so to be frank it will happen when it happens. I am too busy salsaring, fighting bulls and any other Hispanic cliches that you would like to throw into the ring.

So last time I wrote I was espousing the joys of spontaneity. This time I will be illustrating why Colombia is possibly the best country I have ever visited and quite frankly, you should all down tools, stop what you are doing and come out here and see me. But as that may not be possibility for the majority of you (and the fact I am leaving tomorrow), I will paint a picture for you of what has happened in the past month (in as a succinct way as possible).

First experiences of Colombia, initially, where not good. I got skanked twice in the space of 12 hours by two taxi drivers i.e. thieves and the bed in my hostel was not conducive to sleep. I am a small man but my legs where hanging off the end so I can only presume I booked myself into some midget hotel. However, I scarpered from said hotel and went off to San Gil, the self proclaimed adventure capital of Colombia. Here I stayed in the best hostel since my travels began, Sam´s VIP Hostel and met up with my lovely Australian friend Lexi who would be my travel wife for the next ten days.

San Gil was amazing, the best place I visited in Colombia, not too big, very pretty and sustained a variety of day trips that would keep a ADHD raddled imbecile like myself happy for a few days. I tried white water rafting for the first time in my life, a sport that has terrified me since I fell out of my dinghy in Cornwall and was stung by a jellyfish when I was 10. But it was one of the most fantastic experiences of my life and the utter elation of scaling Grade 5 rapids (big rapids, the biggest) and not falling out of the dinghy was like nothing I have experienced before. I think I am developing quite a hankering for adventure sports and would hope when I return to the UK I can feed this new hunger some more.

A couple of other San Gil trips included me joining some new pals I´d made doing the rafting; gentle giant Jamie, ladies man Nick, the very beautiful Kate, the very handsome James, and my traveling wifey Lexi, went off in search of some waterfalls and to dive into them (freezing cold, and as you can imagine, my penis went walkabout). I also had the delight of going off to a very beautiful colonial town/village/hamlet called Barichara which is as picture postcard as it gets. I also indulged in the local delicacy of having my steak with ant sauce because that´s the kind of open-minded guy I am.

Off to Bogota next and thankfully I didn´t book into the midget hostel but a rather delightful place called the Cranky Croc and indulged in watching England fucking up their World Cup chances by drawing with the USA in a pub called....wait for it... Classic Beer Pub. Yes, there is a pub in Bogota called Classic Beer Pub. Pretty much posting its intentions to the mast so no thick gringo could ever be confused that this establishment was anything but a Classic Beer Pub. Anyway, after watching the English horror show, surrounded by smug yanks, Lexi and I decided to wander the streets of Bogota in search of a place that would serve us some red wine. This was actually really difficult as most places were either over priced or serving wine from the carton. I´m not a snob but when wine is cheaper than milk, you have to ask questions. Finally we settled on a lovely Cuban place where we were promptly surrounded by about 8 different men all vying for Lexi, transfixed by her blonde hair and confident Australian ways. I was ignored for the most part but still got bought a few shots of Aguadiente so I am not complaining.

Next couple of days whizzed by. A Bogota Bike Tour took us around the city on Ciclovia, a fantastic event that happens every Sunday where the roads close down to cars and are only open to cyclists and pedestrians from 8am to 2pm. I think I might write a letter to Boris and suggest this for London, I think it could be a really good thing. Next day, Lexi and I scaled Montserrat (well we took a cable car to the top) which is the highest point in Bogota and gives a gorgeous 360 degree view of the city and beyond. Unfortunately, I forgot my camera so the stunning images are merely for my brain and not Facebook. I threw a tantrum, I kicked and screamed, I rued God, fate, my upbringing, my failings as a human being but to no avail the camera did not magically appear. So I bought an ice cream to cheer myself up.

Onto Medillin and there is little that I can write here as pretty much the only highlight/lowlight depending on your perspective was an incredibly messy night where the less said about it the better. However, I do feel I should make a public apology for abusing my friend Tom, a man who I have only spent about 5 days with in my whole life and who didn´t deserve the utter abuse that I inflicted on him which included;


1. sending him an email at 5am in the morning telling him why he was an idiot.
2. throwing his shoes out the window and then not telling him
3. punching him in the penis
4. throwing him over a sofa in a bar
5. trying to trap his penis in a door

And multiple other things I should not go into. So we´ll press onto Salento, a beautiful, quiet and well kept village in the Zona Cafeteria area, which you can surmise from the name, it's a place they like to make coffee. I stayed in Plantation House, which was nice if a little over run by white dread-locked, tattooed, guitar playing, yoghurt weavers blissfully unaware that in their efforts to "be different" they are actually conforming to every fucking traveller cliche under the sun. Thankfully I didn´t hang around with those types and instead went for a trek to the nearby Valle De Corca - another feast for the eyes with rolling hills, sky high 60m wax palms which stretch upwards like leafy fingers trying to touch the sky and mountains that look like they have been painted onto the horizon. I´ve been spoilt with my landscapes in Colombia, they really are the best you will see in the world.

So, after this, it was time to leave my travelling wife Lexi, possibly to be reunited at a later date. It was a sad day, it meant the days of being spoiled with a fantastic array of meals like Spag Bol, Omelette and other such culinary delights were over. And of course, more than the food, the fantastic company. But this is the life on the road - one day you are punching your friend in the penis, the next day you might never see them again. So off I went to Santa Marta, which almost started off very badly when I left two guide books and my ipod on the plane (thankfully, my bad Spanish managed to get them back! Hurrah for my language skills). Once I hit Santa Marta I signed up for the Lost City trek. Again, it was another brilliant highlight of Colombia, although it didn´t start off too well. In the jeep on the way there a guy (who I believed to be in our tour group) tried to engage me in the most inane conversation of my life by asking me if I had considered buying a water purifier whilst I´d been travelling. I could visibly hear a small portion of my soul die as I was forced to engage with this water based banter. Thankfully, he wasn´t in our group.

The trek itself covered an array of different landscapes; mountains, jungles, countryside and we were required to do some pretty tough trekking; wading through rivers, scaling steep mountains whilst ankle deep in sticky clay mud, it provided us with a worthy destination for all the sweating, blisters, bruises and bites that were symptomatic of a such a trek. But, as with life, it was the journey that was the most unforgettable element and I am glad that I was lucky enough to have partaken in this particular adventure. After the trek, naturally what can you do when you have been deprived of beer, music and neon lights for 6 days but spend a weekend partying, which I duly did, before finishing off by visiting a beautiful National Park with my friend Tom called Parque Tayrona which was all tranquil beaches, hammocks and sunsets you could lose your soul in. However, it would have been nice if they provided mosquito nets there - my ankles now look like I have indulged in some 2nd rate henna tattoos.

And, we conclude here as I have come to the end of my Colombian adventure. Yesterday I was wallowing in a mud volcano like some happy hippo whilst been vigorously massaged by a local. Tomorrow I will be taking 4 flights to get to my next destination while accumulating a carbon footprint which will no doubt, send me straight to hell! The ebb and flow of life eh?

Sorry if this has bored you at any point, I have actually missed out so much due to the fact that every minute in Colombia, for the most part, has been a rich, rewarding, extreme, breathtaking and ultimately unique experience. I wanted to share as much as possible and hopefully I have painted a significant picture for you in your minds eye. It really is a very magical place and I am little bit pensive that my Colombian adventure is over. Adios Colombia, estas siempre en mi corazon!

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