South America - Colombia

My first morning in Colombia and it felt good to be here. Had an early morning walk around to get myself orientated. There is a reason for the fair city of Cartagena to be a UNESCO heritage site and protected..it is a beautiful place. Walked around the old town and took in the old colonial buildings and churches. There are stalls everywhere selling goodies like fresh juice, fruit, old school books, tourist bits, coffee,, watches and a huge amount of mobile phone covers.

The smells are really something; cinnamon, frying meat, fish...nice. Walking around Cartegena (old town) feels safe and the people are friendly and helpful and more relaxed than elsewhere I've been. Also, I've been offered coke and women everywhere in the street (well, this is Colombia after all).

Exhausted and sweating like I've done 10 rounds of sparring (its super hot here) it was time to head back and check into my dorm bed and have a siesta. Woke up late and had some chicken and salted potatoes (chicken is now my staple diet since the boat ride in Nicaragua) and had a few beers in the hostel.

Went for another morning walk just to soak up the atmosphere of Cartagena and checked out a few of the churches and streets. The colonial buildings are gorgeous here, painted in bright colours with wooden balconies covered in flowers and plants. Checked out the fort across the south bridge and got a great view of the city from there. Got a bit nervous as I was walking around there as the security police kept following me (thought I was being stalked) but it was for my own safety as it was pretty quiet here. Then went to the free Museum del Oro (Museum of Gold) and checked out some exquisite gold ornaments from the Zenu, Quimbaya and Choco people (200 BC to 1000 AD). Apparently in those days you could find gold nuggets the size of eggs in the rivers very regularly.

After all that culture I needed a livener so sat in the square opposite the museum and got a fresh coffee from a vendor who walks around with 3 different thermos flasks of different coffees (25c). Did some people watching for a few hours. Allot of the old folk sit around and talk about general stuff like the price of tobacco, their son's business or their grandchildren. On a totally different subject..the women here in Columbia (true to Shakira) are gorgeous (with a capital Gorge) and its no surprise then that I have developed a sore neck. It seems the Colombian male has a fascination with big girls. The ones I look at are watched half-heartedly but when a big Momma in a mini skirt walks passed, its all go.

Back at the hostel I chilled with other backpackers and chatted about travel. It seems a hot place to go for some beach action round here is a town further north called Santa Marta and its surrounding area (a 4 hour bus ride from here). Since I missed out on the island in Panama I'm going to head there for a few days for some beachy goodness the day after tomorrow.

My last day here so decided to walk to the only half decent beach around here; Boca Grande. A nice hours walk following the coastline of Cartagena. Reached the beaches and to be honest they weren't that good but was nice to sit and chill by the sea. Reading by the sea and relaxing was almost impossible as every minute a hawker would come past and stop to try and sell their goods; oyster sellers, juice sellers, ice cream sellers, t-shirt sellers and masseurs. It would have been pretty useful for me to have a pre-recorded tape of me saying 'no, gracias'..I had to say it so many times.

Feeling kind of tired I gave in to one of the masseurs who said she'd massage my feet for free and if I liked it I could get a shoulder massage too. After a half decent foot massage I said I'd come back manana for a massage. Then she shocked me with a 50,000 Peso bill for the massage ($25) and much arguing and haggling ensued. Other hawkers were getting involved now so after finally agreeing to pay 15,000 I left in disgust and walked back to the hostel.

Late afternoon was a chilled affair of packing, internetting and chatting to other travelers. Tomorrow I'm going to hook up with Aussie Mick as he's off to Santa Marta as well. True to your average Aussie backpacker, the fellah likes a beer or ten.

Bidding a farewell to the great hostel that is the Casa Vienna (owned by an Austrian fellah no less) and Cartagena. Really enjoyed Cartagena..good place for sight-seeing and a very good atmosphere but altogether very touristy. Boat loads of cruisers come here nearly every day. Me and Aussie Mick shared a cab the bus terminal and got a ticket for the 11.30 to Santa Marta ($10). On buying the ticket I noticed a weird whiteboard behind the sellers desk which had some helpful facts about the safety of the buses; Accidents 0, Murders 0 (very honest writing of course).

The journey took 5 hours including a bus change at Barranqella and including the obligatory Kung Foo film on board. Santa Marta is a decent beach town that has some amazing Xmas lights and decorations on display (Oxford Street take note). Checked into the Hostal Familiar ($14 for shared room) and went out to grab some dinner. Loads of restaurants along the beach promenade.

While I was waiting for dinner I met 2 fellahs I recognised from the Casa Vienna in Cartagena Jorge from Sweden who has a serious rum drinking problem and Andre from Slovakia..cheerful chap). Did some bar hopping but by 11 my stomach was performing the kind of movement associated with volcanoes so the rest of the night was spent in the hotel toilet hopping.

Heard some more robbery stories from Jorge and Andre who were both co-incidentally robbed on the same day and in the same city of Santa Cruz, Bolivia (famous for having the most beautiful women in Bolivia but the sting in the tail is its regular robberies. Andre's story goes like this: He was walking back to his hotel at night (not the wisest thing to do) and he was stopped in the street by 2 fellahs claiming to be police and asking to search his bag. Shortly afterwards a car pulled up and he was marched into it (forcibly). They drove off and after emptying all the bags contents and checking his passport and credit cards they demanded his pin number. They claimed to have handguns so he gave it to them. After that they drove to a bank, withdrew $250 and then dumped him at his hostel penniless (moral of the story is don't walk around alone at night in a city round these parts..taxi all the way).

Jorge had a similar story but it was set up in a taxi (doh). These kind of tales always go around the travel circuit. The plan for the next week is a few days at Tagonga and then off to a tropical paradise beach called Tayrona National Park for some rough living on the beach. After that I head south to Medellin and further.

The beaches aren't that great here in Santa Marta. Nice coastal town which reminds me of a coastal town in England with a big promenade where couples and teenagers walk around (apart from the hot weather, beautiful girls, scruffy stalls, clean water..ok, its nothing like England really). Everyone I'm with (including me) is on a beach buzz at the moment (the hunt for a decent beach is on...) so Me, Mick and Andre and a German fellah we'd only just met waiting on the street decided to share the short taxi ride (10 min's and $2.50) to Tagonga where the beaches are apparently good.

Arrived in Tagonga and checked into the Hostal de Felipe (dorm bed at $6...outrageous). Tagonga is even more laid back than Santa Marta with a real Caribbean feel. The main part of town runs along the beach front with a long line of local bars, restaurants and shops. Today every local seems to be out and about getting lashed on 'Aguila' (cheap local bottled beer) as its a national holiday. Tonight every household in Colombia will light candles outside their homes to celebrate the coming of Christmas (Sweet Jesus...what are they going to be like on Xmas day?).

Hearing that there's a really nice beach about 25 min's walk away everyone walked over the hills and cliffs to get there. Nice views during the walk and the beach is ok (good for a swim, sunbathe and chilling). Had a fair sized freshly caught fish for lunch ($5) then did nothing all day. Allot of Colombian families about today so the beach was pretty packed. There are some strange local fellahs who walk around offering massages. I tried to explain every time they came round to ask us that we all feel more comfortable getting massaged by a female of the species (for some strange reason they didn't get it). 'When in Colombia, do as the Colombians do', so after buying 2 litres of rum (the good stuff apparently) everyone at the hostel lit a candle at 10pm and we drank rum and coke into the night (joining the celebrations were Me, Paul (an English fellah really into Battlefield 2), Karsten (the German fellah), Mick and Andre).

Needless to say drinking 2 litres of rum and coke between 5 of us at a pace that would have had Ollie Reed smiling. Hate to admit it but I was the first to drop out after nearly keeling over in the patio chairs. Wishing everyone a happy birthday (apparently) I headed back to my dorm bed and crashed onto (not into) my mosquito net. The mosquito's had a celebration of their own that night...and probably had the same hangover I did the next day.

Never gonna drink rum again..ever. After a late rise I needed the cool seawater to wake up properly and to relieve my itchy body after a night of mosquito feeding frenzy. Pretty much slept all day in the shade only waking to drink water and swim. Allot more people here today. All the weekenders from Santa Marta and surrounding areas are piling in for the weekend of partying. Tonight it was decided that Me, Mick, Andre and Karsten were going out on the town.

Catching a cab to Santa Marta and specifically the bar 'La Puerta' we all grabbed a table near the dance floor for a good view and short enough distance to sprint for a dance if need be. By 11 the place was heaving and the ideally situated table turned out to be a liability of people knocking over our beers and falling over us so we abandoned it and moved around to socialise. Bumping into the girl that works the desk at the hostel we joined her and her weird mates (they all hate blokes) for the evening.

In general they were nice enough to talk to and one of them luckily spoke English. For over an hour all the girls talked about was how jealous and possessive Colombian blokes were. I did mention that Colombian women were exactly the same. In revenge later in the night they all claimed I look like Phil Collins (gutted..and its not the first time it's been said to me either). During the only major attempt by everyone to hit the dance floor and only after 1 minute of dancing a Colombian fellah decided to run through the dance floor and spray vomit on everyone's head as he made a dash to the toilet. This was enough to stop even the hardiest dancer (they really do love a boogy...more so than the Mexicans even).

Poor Karsten with his Arian good looks (a blond version of Boris Becker) was singled out by a middle aged woman all night and she became a stalker within just 5 minutes of seeing him..he didn't like her at all (mind you it didn't help that we all secretly told her he fancied her). The night finished off with a slice of dodgy looking pizza at a local stall and a taxi back to Tagonga. All in all a good night.

Ok, there can't always be stuff to write about. Today was real alcohol and healthy eating recovery day. Went to the beach for a couple of hours and then back to the hostel. On the way to the beach noticed that the Colombians are still at it. It's getting messier though with blokes sleeping in a beer fuelled dream world on chairs outside the bars (even with their girlfriends regularly trying to shake them awake to save their embarrassment). Said cheerio to Andre today. He's off to catch the night bus to Medallin (15 hours). I need to do the same journey at some point but definitely won't take the night bus, mainly because I like to see the sights and views as we go past and also for security (its a bit riskier at night).

Time to leave the relaxed Tagonga behind and head for Tayrona National Park. Mick and Karsten are joining me for this trip. First a taxi to Santa Marta and dropped off my pack at the Hostal Familiar. I carried only a limited amount of stuff with me..theft and robberies can happen so the only thing of value was my camera. Me and the gang stocked up on food and water because Tyrona is pretty limited in supplies and what they have costs allot.

I spent about $40 on tinned tuna, biscuits, bread, fruit, peanuts, chocolate and water (no alcohol allowed to be taken into the park!!). Then it was a long walk to where the minibus leaves from and caught the $2 bus to the Park's entrance (1 hour). Then a shockingly expensive $12 entrance fee was paid and a just as shockingly search by an army guard..he even check every cigarette in my sealed packets (drugs, weapons and alcohol are the main worries here). The fellah even kindly showed us a newly seized bag of weed (no kidding it was about half a kg) from his pocket. Didn't want to risk anything by asking how much he wanted for it.

Then followed a 30 minute ride from the park entrance to the Tyrona hike starting point. From there (and remembering that I'm carrying a day pack, 5 litres of water and 10 kilos of food) was a 2 hour hike through some stunning tropical forest (saw loads of little monkeys). Some of the path was so muddy the locals had put down coconut shells as a walkway (ingenious). Mosquito's were quite ferocious here so I couldn't even have a decent rest for fear of being eaten alive. After about an hour the walk continued along a huge stretch of beautiful beach and rocky outcrops.

I was sweating like a pig in a sauna and everything was drenched by the time I got there. Totally ignoring the need to find somewhere to sleep I just ran into the sea to cool off. Accommodation is very limited at El Copa (the part of the coast we all decided to stay at) and so the only options were tents (nobody had a tent so hiring a 2 man tent was $30 a night for 2), hammocks near the restaurant ($7 a night) and finally hammocks in a small half open hut on top of a hill ($10 a night...bit pricey but worth it). The hill is on a small peninsular overlooking the sea...class. From my hammock I had a view of the sea during the day and huge sky with big bright stars at night. What was left of the day was spent splashing about in the sea, sunbathing and in general just admiring the beautiful views.

The waters pretty cool and choppy with huge boulders breaking the water so no heroic swimming done here. Dinner was a packed lunch of tuna, bread, an apple and some biscuits. I checked the restaurants menu just in case but a simple pasta cost $4.5 so I'm boycotting it. Just a small bottle of water costs $2.50...liberties. After dinner I sat on the beach and admired the beautiful and big sky. The stars are just so crisply bright and big here. Saw Orion's belt and what looked like Scorpio and quite a few shooting stars.

Tonight was going to be my first night sleeping in a hammock for years so I was pretty excited about it. Putting on my MP3 player's earphones I swayed in the hammock listening to some Van Morrison, Pink Floyd and Lynard Skynard staring at the stars.

Ok, so for me sleeping in a hammock isn't all it's cracked up to be...especially in gale force winds tearing in from the sea. It was nice enough but late at night it got cold and uncomfortable. There are plus points though.. the views are amazing with the view of the sunset, the sound of the crashing waves nearby and the fact that your sleeping outdoors (kind of). Apparently this park is where Steve McQeen fell in love with the Guajira Indians after filming Papillon.

Went for a 7am swim which soon refreshed me after last nights lack of sleep and then a rationed breakfast from my supplies. Around 11am Me and the German fellah (Karsten, the German teacher) set off for the hike to a lost village called Pueblito. It was a pretty tough hike through jungle and over small rivers and boulders but the scenery was amazing. Saw loads of lizards, various ants (beavering away at carrying big pieces of freshly cut leaves) but no monkeys.

The ruins themselves are extremely old and judging by the sign in Spanish dating back to 450bc. A few locals live and work around the ruins dressed in pretty cool long white trousers and white matching tops, held together with a rope. Had another go at a real tarzan swing on the way back using a real vine and a decent height.

Back to the beach for a cool down after the 3 hour walk. Later in the evening played quite a few rounds of shit head with Mick and Karsten and downed a few beers (well deserved after the walk).

Got a bit more sleep last night and have sort of mastered the art of hammock sleeping. The trick is not to lie straight but at an angle which keeps the body straight (easier said than done but definitely more comfy). After the habitual swim to wake up and wash I went for a stroll to the last beach. Saw the strange sight of a bald couple naked on the beach doing some nudy sunbathing and a gang of local fishermen nearby (quite obviously pretending to fish whilst doing some voyeuring...and as proof they had caught nothing when I checked on my way back).

Had a final swim (todays the last day here), packed up my few possessions and ate up the last of my supplies and bid farewell to the folks hanging out on the beach that I'd met. During the 2 hour walk (about halfway through) I heard Karsten mutter 'shit'. Asking him what's up he said he'd forgotten his MP3 player back at the hammock...so off he goes while I wait in the humid jungle with the monkeys, ants and mosquito's.

Finally reached the pickup point for the jeep journey back to the entrance and then waited around for the bus to Santa Marta. Took a while but eventually one came along. It was a good ride, full of drunken Colombians sipping from bottles of rum and singing songs. Arriving at Santa Marta Karsten headed back to Tagonga and I stayed in Santa Marta (hopefully to catch the morning bus to Medallin).

I was totally shattered and after a quick shower just collapsed on the bed and slept dreaming about long lines of monkeys carrying a coconut each across my path as I was hiking.

First mission of the day was to buy myself a new watch (this would be the third one) as my last one's claim of being waterproof down to 50m was a total lie. It filled with water during some snorkeling at a depth of .10m (to be expected for the bargain price of $3). Found a stall with cheap watches nearby and haggled the seller down to $2 and even got him to test the watches waterproof ness by tossing it in a bucket of water. Went to the bus terminal and bought my 1.30 ticket to Medallin ($35) and true to time standing still here the bus left at 3pm (not too bad because it meant the 15 hour bus ride would bring me into the city during morning daylight and not 4am.

The bus journey started with a Colombian fellah standing at the front of the bus, making a 5 minute speech and then trying to knock out dodgy watches, ipods and perfumes. It was all snide gear but fairly cheap and I suppose useful for Xmas presents. Bus stopped for petrol after a few hours and as I watched the attendant fill the tank I realised he had a fag in his mouth (sweet Jesus...could've set the whole place up in flames). Weird thing happened while we had a 10 minute break. A fellah was washing his hands just next to the open luggage compartment of the bus (I was having a smoke and saw everything that happened) when out jumped a hamster from behind the luggage and landed on his legs, scaring the shit out of him. It was so fast we couldn't tell what it was at first but after it stopped running I thought I'd help out a bit. The thing was too fast so another bloke helped, again no joy so the local policeman and a military guard who were standing idly by were called in as reinforcements. It took 5 people to catch the little blighter. The copper asked everyone on the bus if it was theirs which nobody admitted to (well, nobody was going to admit to smuggling hamsters). So, he arrested the little fellah and placed him in the custody of a cardboard box (secretly he told us it was for his daughter (at least the backpacking hamster will have a good home).

Sometimes it's a bit edgy when the bus stops for short breaks because the driver doesn't check too thoroughly whether everyone's back on the bus yet. I've heard of instances where people have been left behind and then on top of that never seen their luggage again. I always stand close to the doorway after buying some food or drink, just in case. The film I was treated to on the bus was a strange but funny film called 'Little Man'. Pretty funny, even in Spanish. And yes, for the 5th time I've seen Rambo 1 on a bus (couldn't bear to watch all of it).

Once I arrive in Medallin I plan to spend the weekend here. After that I head further south to spend a day or two in a place called San Agustin (has some ancient statues carved from rock), then heading back northwards to Bogota (need a day at least to sort out my flight tickets, then to a place called Zipaquira which has a cathedral carved out of a rock salt mine (sounds amazing). I think Xmas will be spent back at Tagonga or Santa Marta. If I spend it somewhere it might as well be in nice hot weather.

Arrived in Medallin at 6am freezing (air con was on full blast) and tired from lack of sleep. The bus terminal north is a very modern and organised terminal (thought I was back in Europe for a second). Medallin is a city infamous for being the mighty drug czar Pablo Escobar's city. The mighty Escobar apparently paid for most of the infrastructure: schools, bus terminals, hospitals, metro (the only one in Colombia). He's kind of popular here as he was famous for giving money to the very poor. Nowadays the region is trying to shrug off that image.

On first impressions it looks like a thriving city and the self-proclaimed fact that it has the most beautiful women in Colombia (even the world?..) is very apparent. My place of stay was the Casa Kiwi, quite a lively hostel with a bar, pool room, 42 inch TV room, wireless internet and verandah's to chill. As I was knackered and sleepless I chose a room for the first night ($20!! Sweet Jesus that's steep). Tomorrow I'll be back in the dorm rooms. Peublito, the suburban area where the Casa Kiwi is situated hasn't got much to see but made a few short walk to get adjusted.

Did a trip to the metro to check out prices and routes. The rest of the day I just chilled at the hostel chatting to the weird mix of people here (most of them off their heads on the devil's dandruff. The people of Medallin are in general lighter skinned than their northern counterparts and extremely friendly. My only complaint (this being a fault of mine) is that they talk too damned fast for me to catch what they're talking about. I better get used to it..apparently Argentinean's talk even faster. I'm finding Colombia allot more expensive than some of the other countries I've been to. Bit odd because allot of travelers have said it's very cheap (where!!??).

But saying that I really love the country alot..could even say its my favourite country so far (it's up there with Nicaragua). The people are well friendly and smile allot. They love a good time and make any excuse to party. I think it was the great Gabo (Gabriel Marquez) who once said what do you get when you have 4 Colombian's in a room? ...a party. In the evening I chilled some more, played pool, drank a few bevies and watched the film 300 (great film). Quite a varied mix of people staying here; some oldies and students from all around the world; English, Australians, Canadians, Americans, South Africans, Dutch, Germans and Spanish. Tomorrow, its time to venture to the centre by Metro and explore Medallin.

Using the Metro was a piece of cake (there only being 4 lines) and within 15 minutes I was at the centre of town (just out of interest it cost 60c to go anywhere). When I got out of the station (Parque de Berrio) the place was absolutely heaving with people..probably doing their Xmas shopping. My first stop was the Plaza Botero where they have loads of Fernando Botero brass statues (he has a very unique style in that all his pieces are bottom-heavy and look like blobby shapes).

After watching the comical site of a Colombia family forcing their puppy to stand beneath a statue of a bottom-heavy puppy (both puppy's had their tongues' hanging out) I headed to the Museo d Antiquia. Entrance was free to the Museo (blinder) and having 3 floors of good contemporary art it was definitely worth the visit. They had art by the likes of Felix Angel, Bernardo Salcedo and a whole wing for Fernando Botero. As usual at most art exhibitions they had a few pieces of contemporary art with little meaning; the usual cliche of a white chair in the middle of a white room (mind you..it could have been a relaxing area). Next up was the Palacio de la Cultura Rafael Uribe (again free).

This ones allot smaller but worth the visit just to see the one piece by Fernando Arroyave that provided the shock of the week for me. You walk into a darkened room and in front there's a meat counter which on first impressions looks normal and filled with wrapped pieces of meat (I thought it was a cafe for a second). On closer inspection the meat is in fact female body parts wrapped in meat packets (well the piece did its job and certainly shocked me).

After a day of cultural overload I continued my personal quest to find a post office so I could post some long overdue family postcards (carried from Costa Rica) and some new Xmas cards. The quest continued as badly as it started when I discovered the post office was closed for a few days. Looks like I'll be carrying these cards all the way round the world at this rate. During my walk around the centre I spotted a crowd of onlookers watching an old Colombian fellah doing something. It was difficult to work out but it seemed he was selling something. He had about 10 giant snails crawling around next to him and also some tubs of what looked like Vaseline but were most likely snail grease (Jesus...what next, chicken milk?). He was explaining the merits of this natural substance and every now and then would smear his face, legs and arms with the stuff, drawing gasps from the crowd (they obviously didn't believe him...the weird snail fellah). For a brief moment I thought of getting some for Xmas presents but it seems snail grease is pricey here.

At night the Casa Kiwi was a frenzy of activity (probably the liveliest hostel I've stayed in); blaring beats, people lashed everywhere and allot of trips to the toilet (hmm, wonder why?). I got suckered into a long and dull chat with a South African stoner about why his previous relationship didn't work. "I can't think these days he moaned"...well, how about staying off the gear for a day then!!

A group from the hostel were off to a club tonight (apparently it has wild geese running around and a naked room). I was tempted but at $15 to get there and in, and $3 a beer I had to say no (plenty of time for crazy clubs). Later on it turns out it wasn't that good; the wild geese weren't running around but in an enclosed pond out back and the naked room was nothing more than a topless room (full of blokes apparently).

Today, in all good faith I was supposed to head off to Salento (or at least close to it) but I was sidetracked when I walked past the TV room of the hostel to see a crowd of English watching the Man U vs Liverpool game. Ok, just 20 minutes I said...then another..then another. When the game finished they announced that they were going to show the Chelsea vs Arsenal game early afternoon. Starved of football for so long (and it being too late in the day to travel south by bus) I cursed the TV and watched football for near enough the day. As it turns out I should have left..Chelsea lost 1:0 and played pretty badly..oh and Terry was injured. The rest of the day was spent chatting to other travelers and sharing tips and advise on areas of interest. Nice to have a day of not doing anything but tomorrow I'm going to hit the bus and mosy on down south.

Nearly got suckered into staying another night at the Casa Kiwi by the crowd there but managed to drag myself away. Packed up my few belongings and caught a taxi to the bus terminal (south) and bought my ticket to Armenia (the closest town to Salento). My reason for going to Salento is its a big coffee growing region and apparently very beautiful and green, with tons of rolling hills. The bus ride was the usual experience of sitting in an ice box and watching dodgy films (Transporter 2...not bad actually).

The view was pretty amazing heading into higher, mountainous regions with some scary drops. Noticing the people are starting to wear more and more cowboy hats and boots the further south I go. They also wear really cool cloth ponchos (similar to the ones worn in Peru). They are also lighter skinned and allot of them have moustaches. What was supposed to be a 5 hour bus rid turned into 7.5 hours (quite a few small landslides on the roads and road blocks).

The plan was to make it to Salento in a day but as I arrived in Armenia at night I thought it wise to stay overnight and continue in the morning. Asking the bus terminal security where the nearest hotel was I ended up just round the corner. Forgetting that hotels so close to a bus terminal are usually knocking shops I checked in. A night of banging doors, screaming, regulars knocking on my door and clicking high heels ensued but through all this I slept like a log (couldn't grumble at $8 a night.

Nearly every hour a small shuttle bus goes from Armenia to Salento so caught one at 9am (only $1.50). After a short 1 hour journey I arrived in the small and quiet town of Salento. Most older men around here wear the cool cowboy hats and boots so I know I'm in a rural area. My choice of hostel was the Plantation House, run by a chatty and friendly English fellah called Tim and his wife. The weather looked great but by the time I'd checked into my $7 a night dorm bed the skies opened and for the rest of the day it pissed it down (I think I'm jinxed with the weather on this trip).

After a delicious 3 course meal in town for $3 (best meal I've had in a long time) I set off for the 1.5 hour hike to a small and traditional coffee plantation to see how the delicious coffee is made here. The walk there was really beautiful and scenic with views of forests of bamboo, rows and rows of coffee plants and smoky, rolling hills in the distance (oh, and allot of rain).

On arriving at the farm I met the 14 year old grandchild of the owner and his family and after a cup of tasty coffee to get me started he took me round. They had an amazing variety of fruit and plants; banana, pineapple, avocado, oranges, tangerines, apples and of course coffee. When the coffee fruit is ripe (usually a red or yellow berry) its gathered and then rolled through a grinder to get the fruity layer off. Then the main bean with another thin layer (very slippery to touch) is rolled again. The end product is a light brown bean which is sun dried and then dry fried (for a quick cuppa) or roasted. During the long uphill walk back the skies opened even more and soaking I reached the sanctuary of the hostel.

There's a really nice English couple staying here (long termers at 2 months) who like to cook for visitors and charge only a minimal fee. So tonight it was chili con carne (hot and spicey and cheap at $1.50). Had a long chat with Roberto (cool Italian fella who loves his football), Paul (crazy English fella who played techno into the wee small hours in the dorm...ear plugs be praised), Ida (a nice Finnish girl traveling alone in South America) and the friendly English couple. Heard the story about a prison in La Paz (Bogota) where you have to pay for your own cell, food and anything else. Its so mad there that the guards stay on the outside and apparently the best Coke is produced and sold from there (madness). There was a Scouse fella who was banged up for smuggling who used to run tours for backpackers and you could even stay overnight (I think the tours are finished now but might check it out to see how mad it is). There's even a book about the fella's life behind bars called Marching Powder...might have to pick up a copy somewhere.

The plan for today was a 5 hour hike up into the hills of the coffee district but at 7am the weather thwarted me. Once again it was pissing down and not the ideal conditions for hiking. I'll try again tomorrow. Today was going to be a day of doing nothing (sometimes rain gives a good excuse to do absolutely nothing). I ventured into town to have another lunch feast for $2.50 and then came back and watched the rain and greenery of the hills. Did some catching up on the blog writing and had a skim through my photos.

Topic of conversation tonight was where everyone was spending Xmas. Always seems to crop up at the hostels recently and most people have similar plans; either head for a beach for warm weather goodness, a lively city for party atmosphere or somewhere quiet and peaceful. If I can make it that far (or find accommodation ...Colombia goes mental at Xmas with buses and hotels booked out) then my choice is the party town of Cali. Salsa capital of the world (self proclaimed) and also having a 5 day festival from 25th to 30th I just can't resist. Funny thing happened tonight (had me in stitches...but its one of those where you had to be there).

We were all sipping beers around the hostel and chatting when a huge flying insect flew into the main room. Nobody was that interested as we'd all seen huge creepy crawlies before but when Daniel (an English fella) proclaimed in earnest that this huge creature was in fact the rare 'Mochaca' and that it could kill you after one sting unless (and here's the twist) you have sex within 24 hours. He was so serious about it that we all believed him. All the blokes were trying to get stung and flapping their arms about whereas all the girls were screaming and running away. On checking with the Colombian cleaning lady later on it turns out it was just a big moth and no you don't have to have sex to live after a Mochaca sting (did make her giggle though..so maybe there's some truth to it).

Slept soundly dreaming of strange winged creatures biting me while I was alone in the desert...

Really early rise today at 6.30am. The dorm has suddenly filled with a group of female french students ..just me and 5 female french students (sigh). Today as the sun was out for the first time in days I was off to do a major hike around the luscious green hills of the cloud forest here. Caught a jeep ride to the walk starting point Cacaura at 7.30am ($1.50) and started the 11km hike. Even right at the start there was mud everywhere...up to my knees at some points but even so it was a fantastic walk.

It started out with views of rolling green hills with huge 60 metre palm trees and then it turned into smoky and misty dense forest with loads of rivers and home made bridges. The going was steep at points and I nearly lost my shoes in the sticky mud a few times. The odd local I saw during the walk was rugged looking and they all wore cowboy hats and rode horses (all of them carry machetes wrapped in beautiful leather sheath.

After about 5 km I came to the Acumar reserve where an old couple stood waiting for me. The first words they uttered to me were "Have you got any cigarettes?" (obviously not in English). So I gave them a couple of fags and paid for the entrance to this part of the walk ($1) which includes a nice cuppa chocolate and a hunk of cheese next to it (weird but tasty mix). The couple have allot of hummingbirds in the reserve so I hung out there for a while watching them flit about. Tried to get some good shots but they're just too quick. Didn't see much in terms of wildlife apart from a few cows, loads of birds, a few horses and lizards but the views made up for it. After walking for nearly 6 hours and pretty much shattered I reached the jeep drop off point and blagged an early 3 pm return to Salento (normally leaves at 5pm).

The rest of the evening I chilled with the other hostellers. Adam and Wendy (long term residents at the hostel) have a good little enterprise going where they cook meals for guests and charge $2 a head...nice. The big question on every traveler's lips is where to go for Xmas (everywhere I go it's the same...). I have already decided..its going to be Salsa city Cali. So, at the moment I´m in San Augustin (22nd Dec.) I´ll be here for another full day looking at the 3000bc statues everywhere, then on the 24th I head to Cali for the holidays. After about 3 days there I´ll bus it to Bogota (capital city) for a day or two, then just one more stop before I head to Venezuela. Oh, and Merry Xmas...

Woke up to a gorgeous and crisp sunny day in Salento (makes a change...it's been pissing down and chilly since I've been here...fleece and waterproofs needed every day). Am so tempted to spend Xmas here as it's a nice cosy atmosphere at the Plantation House (apart from Tim, Christina and their family there's going to be Adam and Wendy (English couple) and a German couple (can't for the life of me remember their names. They baked some delicious Austrian biscuits called Vanilla Kipferln. Making the huge mistake of offering me one and then leaving a bowl of them to cool in the kitchen I had to use allot of ingenuity to cover up the missing biccies (sorry!)).

Instead of spending Xmas here I'm going to slowly head to Cali the Salsa capital of the world with my new buddy Javier (a Colombian bloke from Santa Marta..nice bloke and of course there's the added bonus of practicing my Spanish and also a translator when needed..resulto mundo!). Caught the 8am bus from Salento to Armenia ($1.50) and then caught the next bus to Neiva (best place to catch another bus to San Augustin, a small town near to the ancient statuettes). What was supposed to be a 6 hour ride turned into a 12 hour job due to landslides on the road and a few accidents. A few of the locals told me that 2 days ago two trucks were too greedy in trying to pass each other and ended up leaning over in the same ditch and becoming stuck together right next to a cliff. The traffic ended up backing up 3km and everyone had to sleep in the buses and cars all day and night. Eventually a giant tow truck and team came but the dodgy truck drivers had no money to pay them. They ended up having to walk around with a hat collecting money from the cars and buses (of course everyone contributed because they wanted to get the hell out of there).

Half the people in the bus I was on (a small mini bus) was full of rowdy and cheeky military type scamps who were on leave for the Xmas holidays. Still not sure if it was good to have them on the bus or not (for security reasons). As an on going joke they would suddenly yell "Robbers!" (ah ha..funny guys...of course I wasn't amused). They were jeering the driver a lot of the time too but that was all good natured. Noticed a hell of a lot of soldiers around on the roads and on pickup trucks. Apparently this is to protect people for the holiday season (a lot of money and presents going on the buses throughout Colombia). Also noticed that the police stations in every small town had huge walls of sandbags around it to stop any sniper or surprise attacks. Heard a story the other day about a big police station in a town somewhere in south Colombia that happened to have a plot of land for sale nearby. So, what the FARC rebels decided to do was buy this plot of land under the pretence of building a hotel. What they in fact did over the space of 6 months, whilst at the same time building this hotel, was to dig a tunnel all the way under the police building. One night they broke through into the armoury, stole all the weapons and using the police weapons captured everyone there and took them off into the jungle somewhere to be held as captives.

Although Colombia used to have a bad rep for robberies and kidnappings it's getting way better now (or so I've been told). There are a few areas that aren't safe to travel in, mostly in the west around the Darien area and also in the east in the Amazonian area. There is still some FARC (socialist rebels), AUC (right wing paramilitaries..and by far the worst human rights offenders) and other paramilitary activity there and also in a few spots where there's heavy drug trafficking. The US is pumping loads of money into Colombia to help with the drug and paramilitary problem and for the secondary reason of helping with crop substitution. This is opening Colombia up to mass tourism and soon there'll be masses of tourists coming here to enjoy the hospitality of the friendly Colombians.

I was supposed to reach San Augustin and its mysterious stone statues (3300bc...how old is that!!!!?) today but on arriving in Neiva at 7pm I found all the buses closed for the night (maybe not too wise to travel at night anyway). Found a cheap and dodgy hotel in the middle of 'Cracksville' (wrinkly crack heads walking around outside) for $5 per person. Later in the night me and Javier headed off to check out the local talent in a few recommended bars. Very lively with a happy hour that finishes at 9pm (buy 1 beer at $1 and get one free...cheap like the budgy!). The bars were pretty decent but not very lively so after a few rounds we headed to a club. It seems dress code is a universal thing...what was I thinking going out on the town wearing sandals and a T-shirt.

In the end headed back to the hotel ready for a good nights sleep for tomorrows bus. Fell asleep listening to some Reggaeton on my MP3 player because the neighbours had music blaring at 5 million decibels (I checked it out but there was no party..just a noisy neighbour).

Bit of a rough head this morning but managed to get to the bus terminal by 8am (the 8am bus didn't leave until 9.30 anyway..and cost $10). The bus was a small van with loads of seats thrown into it and the driver had a 'need for speed'. There was a Colombia teenage fella wearing headphones with his girlfriend behind me who started singing Phil Collins songs (got me well paranoid but then he started on Sting tunes..phew). Eventually arrived in San Augustin for 1 pm.

San Augustin reminds me of Salento but bigger. Nice cosy town with red faced locals (Rancho's) who wear the usual cowboy hats and boots (they all seem to be rosy cheeked round here..oh and most blokes look like Freddie with their big taches). Did some internet stuff (trying to book a hostel for Xmas in Cali...seems everyone has the same idea so it's all full and will have to see how it pans out when I get there). The choice of stay was the Hostel Nelly, a bit out of town but set in beautiful gardens and really friendly owners. After chilling for a while and after getting ready to go out for the night the skies opened up and all enthusiasm for a night out were abandoned when I saw the state of the pathway back to town...a good 20 minute walk in ankle high mud and in the dark.

In the end it turned into a quiet and chilled night of chatting to the owner and her daughter (well, Javier did most of the chatting and I piped in with the odd si or claro. I still haven't reached a level of decent and basic conversational Spanish and as usual it's quite frustrating for me. My vocabulary is improving though and it will take more time to get there. I have to listen to my Michelle Thomas MP3's a bit more I suppose. Tomorrow I'm going on a jeep tour around a wide area to catch the ancient statuettes and waterfalls ($12).

Got picked up in the tour jeep at 8am. In the jeep were me and Javier, a Colombian couple and an American called Adam (interesting fella who'd spent his young years as a missionary's son in West Africa...had many good stories to tell). First stop was the San Augustin museum (really not much to write home about but it had one statue and some burial sites). Then a long drive to the second highest waterfall in South America...wow..it was well impressive and noisy (beautiful). Then on the way to the first area of statuettes we had our first of many military searches.

It was all done pretty professionally, asking us to get out of the jeep, stand spread eagled against the side of jeep (hmmm...flashbacks of the Tikal robbery here) and a thorough (yes...the usual embarrassing private parts pat down happened to all of us) search ensued. It was all very professional until the soldier searching me (just a kid really) asked me for a ciggy. I pulled out my packet and told him it was the last one to which he replied that's ok, took it and said thanks (cheeky blighter). Then it was on to some more hilltop statue sites. Most of the statues were found quite recently and were found lying down on top of each burial site. Some believe they are protection for the buried and some believe they are made in the image of the buried. There followed another 2 military stops which went smoothly enough. In the car behind us they found a handgun in the boot but our driver pulled away just as it was found so not sure what happened there.

Last stop of the day after was another beautiful waterfall in the middle of bright green hills. As we left there and passed a small village outdoor billiards bar with a gang of locals playing pool our driver lost all sense of width and decided to plough into one of their motorbikes (nice one fella). A disagreement followed (quite rightly) and at the end of it the bike rider was looking the more sheepish and seemed almost willing to pay for the damage himself (weird one...couldn't quite work that one out..our driver was a tiny gentle fella). After a day of a bum, back neck and skull shattering jeep ride it was decided to go out on the town.

The night started at a local Rancho bar with only red faced gnarled locals screaming, singing and dancing to the music. Then it was off to a bar recommended by a local girl (Javier nearly got lucky there). This bar was the most amazing and creative bar I've ever been to. It was built totally out of wood and the interior decoration was all wood and bamboo. It had sofa seats, wooden bicycles on the wall, an open fire, a tarzan rope to get from the toilets to the seating area and the icing on the cake was a fireman's pole leading from the first floor to ground floor (although maybe this isn't such a wise thing in a bar...wonder how many mishaps have occurred using it...some brave fella in the past and after a few too many beers probably announcing "I'm sure I can do this head first).

Sadly, what the bar had in amazing interior and toys it lacked in customers. Even at 11am it was empty except for the three of us (me, Javier and Adam) fooling around as if it was some kind of playground. Its a cardinal sin that this place was empty. Getting late it was decided to head for a club. On the way there Javier started acting the goat (well, we were all mixing the Cerveza's with rum) and decided he would would around town with his top off (it's pretty cold here at night). Needless to say all the locals laughed and shunned all our requests for directions and we nearly didn't get into the club.

The club wasn't up to much anyway...a bit of dancing and allot of blokes standing at the side of the walls. I called it a night by 12.30am and after a long, staggering and arduous walk back to the hotel Nelly I realised Nelly's house was dark and locked...me not having a key this posed a problem. An hour of banging on the door followed but no joy. I was destined to sleep outside in the cold. So curling up in the hammock I attempted to sleep in a hammock outside in the garden. It was near impossible with the amount of shivering to get any sleep.

At 5.30am, as it was getting light (well, at least I caught a sunset...rare for me) I continued the door banging and shouting. Then noticed Javier curled up outside the room door (poor fella just had a pair of shorts and a T-shirt on). Woke him up too as we had a 6.30am bus to catch to Cali and we both continued knocking on Nelly's door for the next hour. Eventually Nelly woke up and shouted at us for not carrying the key (bloody hell...the key ring was the size of a car battery...how the hell can I pop that into my pocket). Entered the room and the lure of a bed with blankets was just too much (6.30am bus be damned).

Woke up at 9am ready for the 9.30 bus. Checked out and understandably I was only charged a third of the room price for last nights nonsense ($3). The bus was delayed by an hour but eventually headed off towards Popayan (from where I need to catch another bus to Cali...no mean feat on the biggest national holiday Xmas eve). The three of us (Me, Javier and Adam the Yank) chose seats on the bus badly. On bad roads the back seat is a disaster and on a few occasions our heads nearly went through the roof. More bum, back, neck and skull shattering roads ensued for 4 hours.

Arriving in Popayan at 3pm I bid farewell to my new mate Javier. He wanted to stay in the town for a few days (I suspect he was was just too damned cold and tired from last night to carry on) and I wanted to carry on to Cali. Thankfully the roads turned from pot holed off road tracks to smooth road and the bus finally reached Cali at 7pm. There I bid farewell to Adam (a small fella but a giant of drinker...he drinks a beer like its a bottle of water) and hopped into a taxi. My plan for tonight and a Xmas present to myself was to find a top range hotel that has Wireless access so I can Skype call my family tomorrow morning (maybe even video call). After driving the cab driver up the wall (he got lost easily) and checking about 10 different hotels I found 'the one'.

The hotel Santiago had rooms at $40 (20 quid for a top hotel...not bad) with wireless internet, a roof pool, a sauna and room service (sheer bliss). As I had a cold coming on after the hammock antics I made a beeline to the sauna (boy was that good) and then swam in a rooftop pool watching the stars. By 11pm I headed back to the room and checked out the internet. Doh!..it didn't work. As I'd already used the hotel facilities I couldn't change hotels so I just relaxed and enjoyed what there was. I'll have to call the family from an internet cafe in the morning.

A half hearted effort was made to go out on Xmas eve but standing outside waiting for a taxi for 15 minutes I gave up and went back. So Xmas eve for me was a verrrrrry relaxed affair: sauna, bar, dinner and sleep.

Checked out of the splendid Hotel Santiago at 10am and headed for the part of town where the hostels are (north east). After numerous failed attempts at getting a bed eventually the Hostal Calidad had a room for grabs. On Xmas day and what with the Salsa festival starting in full swing tomorrow this was a godsend. Sadly no wireless to call my family so headed out on a mission to find an open internet cafe. After 2 hours of walking around town I finally got to the shopping centre 'Chipa Chappas' and found a place that was open. Was good to hear the familiar family voices on Xmas day but as well as the family I missed some turkey with trimmings and a pile of mince pies with custard (sigh).

Xmas lunch for me at 3pm was chicken, chips and salad with an ice cream for pudding (at a local supermarket with cheap grub).

Chipa Chappas is a very trendy place with loads of cool cats smartly dressed buying expensive stuff (in $'s mostly). The Colombians (hate to say it...but its true) are a vain lot. Always preening, checking themselves in mirrors and generally well presented. I can't remember the amount of times Javier would break out his mirror and check himself (reminded me of Cat from Red Dwarf).

As a Xmas treat I decided to make use of this shopping centre and caught a film. Can't even remember the name of it but it had Craig Daniels and Nicole Kidman in it...some kind of fantasy. It was ok, but a kids film. Rather than go out on the lash I decided to stay in and do some Xmas pondering and planning for the years travel ahead of me.

Had a chat and a few beers with my fellow hostellers and made a plan for some bull fighting (something that I suppose has to be seen), Salsa'ing and drinking tomorrow. All in all it was a good Xmas for me and spending it in the heat and humidity of Cali was kind of cool.

After a long walk around Cali catching some of the plaza's and churches (Cali's not a bad city but there isn't much to do here during the day...everything here happens at night) I headed back to the hostel. At 3pm it was time to head off to the Stadio del Torro (the bullfighting arena). Now, I've never been a great fan of the bullfighting and disagree with the argument that the fight is fair and equal but thought it best to see for myself what its all about. Queued up for a while and bought my $25 ticket for the ensuing bloodbath.

A lot of lashed up locals outside making fools of themselves. Some even taking photos of me and the gang (fella from Bournemouth and a Czech fella). Loads of vendors selling the usual ciggy's, crisps and drinks. Also, plastic cushions being sold which I shrugged off as extravagance at $7 (big mistake). Just as I bought my beer and sat down it started to piss down (damnit). I was soaked within seconds. Things in the arena started off with a round of the Colombian national anthem. Then the band played a number to bring the main stars out; main matadors, secondary matadors, horse back matador, some fella's riding heavily protected horses and finally the horses that drag the bulls body out of the arena.

The first bullfight was an absolute nightmare and I was so close to walking out. The guy just couldn't kill the bull (he was a beginner) and people started booing him with frustration and maybe sympathy for the bull. Thankfully things got better. The build up to a fight is as follows; bull is let loose in the arena, fella's on padded horses and secondary matadors wind the bull up by sticking small lances behind its head (I suppose to tire and anger the bull), main matador springs into action and does a 10 minute show with his cape and the bull (pretty gracefull...I have to admit..of course the obligatory 'Ole' is shouted every time he jigs the bull). The final act is when the matador raises his sword, points it at the charging bull and if any good he'll kill the bull straight out.

What the first matador did badly was have 4 attempts at stabbing the bull before another guy had to come in and put the bull out of its misery. The crowd was booing, throwing cabbages at him. He walked off with a lot of shame. Apparently if you don't kill the bull quickly it can't be eaten because the meat goes bad and obviously it's terrible for the bull. One matador was a horsebacked one who did some amazing riding...dodging the bull, taunting it by riding sideways and then killed the bull in one fail swoop (kinda smooth..respect). The rest of the fights (6 in all) went pretty smoothly (which is more than I can say for the weather..I was drenched sitting there for 3 hours). Bullfighting really isn't my thing and that'll be the last of my bullfights. Most of the time I felt like jumping into the arena and helping the bull out. But in saying that, the spectacle of the whole event was great. Drenched and shivering I headed back to the hostel.

Made some dinner and chilled out watching some TV with other hostellers.

After yesterdays gory event it was time to check out some beauty. Cali had a Latin America beauty contest (I'm attending purely for research purposes). Before going I had to rush to the Cali government building to try and blag a press pass (this was recommended for the festivities in Cali..getting discounts and free entry to events). All went smoothly and I walked back to the hostel with a new press card hanging round my neck.

The beauty contest was held at the Intercontinental hotel so press card round neck and camera in hand (well...I had to look like I was a photographer...even with a digital compact) I strolled in with the gang from the hostel. We were seated in the press area. Some of us were even interviewed by the local TV station (thankfully not me...my cover as a press photographer would have been blown). Well, needless to say the girls walking around the pool wearing mere bikini's were gorgeous (with a capital Gorge). To name but a few, miss Colombia, Bolivia, Venezuela, Costa Rica..(sadly no miss Brazil). The winner for day was miss Bolivia (I was pipping for miss Colombia).

After 2 hours of boiling in the sun outside and mixing with the real press it was time to grab some lunch. On the way out of the hotel there was an excited crowd gathering around a fella in a wooly hat. Turned out to be an ex footballer called Xavier (?..I think he played for Liverpool). In the evening the hostel crowd gathered for much beer drinking and silly word games (name a beer brand using each letter of the alphabet..name 10 leaves...Sweet Jesus...it went on for too long). I really felt sorry for the non English speakers (the Czech fella and 2 Korean girls). When the tedious word games were finished (there was almost a revolution started by me and a few others we finally all set off to a place recommended for drinking and dancing at midnight (Calle de Cerveza...the street lined with beer).

It would have been more apt to name it big field of mud with beer stalls on side and big stage with live band at end. It was well packed with lashed up Colombians Salsa'ing, bopping and Merengue'ing around. Beer was sold by the litre for $1.50 and every 5 minutes some bright spark would toss a full glass high in the air. 2 hours later and nobody was having much luck with the local girls so after the usual hushed murmur of "they must all be lesbians" we strolled off to another place called Love Park where there were loads of outdoor bars with dancefloors. I think the 3 hours of sitting in the hostel playing painfully boring word games and drinking were paying its toll by this time and nobody was in the mood (great shame...could have been a great night out).

By 4.30 we all headed back to the hostel and crashed out discussing missed opportunities and such (sigh..I'm gonna pay for this in the morning).

The plan for the next week is another day in Cali then bus it to Bogota (making one stopover on the way). Bogota will be where I have my new years celebrations..hopefully catching a club or two. Then heading into Venezuela (with quite some trepidation..not much good is said about Venezuela at all..kinda rough..but I have to see the Angel Falls and the mountains of Merida. Apparently its a must to smuggle dollars into Venezuela..you get 3 times the local currency on the black market. Maybe not so easy as a few fellow travelers have reported strip searches at the border (I swear to God nobody's putting on a rubber glove in front of me!!).

Today it was time for some Cali street parade and carnival action so after a hearty breakfast of coffee, a biscuit and a smoke me and the hostel gang headed off to the place where the action was to take place. Arrived there at 11.30 just as things were warming up. After a lot of pushing and shoving managed to get a pretty decent spot along the parade route. Saw some amazing costumes, music and dancing. Took so many pics that my memory card ran dry.

One of the reoccurring themes was big black fella's dressed up as women and being chased by ugly big nosed devils. On checking with some local Calians it seems the origin of this theme is as follows: During and after the Spanish conquest of these parts (and most other parts) the men used to regularly rape all the local girls and at night they would rampage through villages, towns pretty much helping themselves to all of them which produced loads of mixed race kids. To try and stop these sneaky Spaniards sowing their oats the boyfriends and husbands would dress themselves up as women and trick the Spaniards into thinking they were birds. What followed I don't even want to think about but needless to say it worked sometimes. And so the locals take the piss out of the Spaniards even today .

As is always the case at a street parade there was a big punch up when a big lashed up Colombian pushed another fella (tiny bloke) too far against the parade railings. The small fella went ballistic and like a wild cat swimming in a box full of catnip he clobbered the big fella. Eventually the Colombia old bill came by and the big bloke was whisked away. After numerous beers, clapping and nearly going blind at the naked girls walking with the parade it was time to head back home to the good hostel. Again after mixing and having a great time with some good people it was time to bid farewell to the two Korean girls Suni and Uni, English fella Adam and Irish fella David..aswell as the two Japanese blokes who, although they had only spoken about 5 sentences to me and everyone else in the last 3 days still felt like mates. Half of them were off to Ecuador and the other half to Medallin.

The rest of the day I just walked around town looking for some new T-shirts to replace my skanky old ones which I have worn continuously for the last 6 months. After this failed mission I went back to the hostel and had a chat with David the hostel owner about all the dodgy stuff going on in Cali and what brought him here. Tomorrow I head to Bogota via a small town in between.

After bidding farewell to the great hostel Calidad (although a shout out to Dave's permenantly people hating and grumpy misses Christina has to be made. She even barred English Justin from the internet for not signing in his time quick enough...Sweet Jesus she's a tough cookie) I caught the late morning bus to Pereira. I chose this town because its a middle point between Cali and Bogota and rather than do a full 15 hours I would do it in 2 stages (and no, I didn't choose this town because it is fabled to have the 'friendliest' girls in the whole of Colombia).

Being a tad hung over from the street festival the bus journey was pretty dire. I drank loads of water and wrapped a towel round my head to stop the burning sun from giving me brain damage. Arrived in Pereira at 4.30pm and checked out loads of hotels. The cheapest I could find was a dodgy place called Los Alamos but at $10 for the night it was good. In the evening I had a walk around the town centre...the usual big plaza with a church and government buildings at either end. It had a nice atmosphere though so chilled out and had an ice cream on a bench and did some people watching (the usual array of couples snogging, old fella's in a group shouting about something, smart fella's getting their shoes polished by the side of the road and gaggles of girls giggling.

Dinner ended up being in a Chinese restaurant (in a very loose sense...it was more of a Colombian-Chinese fusion). My Chicken Chow Mein was spaghetti with some local vegetables and two cold potatoes. Tasted pretty good though. After a bit of a spending frenzy over the last few days I decided to have a quiet night in. Quiet is the wrong word to use because while I was reading in bed every hour I'd hear the clackety-clack of high heeled shoes and laughing as locals brought back their companions for an hour of 'watching TV'.

At 10.30 and after a restless night of noisy neighbouring hotel rooms and dreams of chickens running around outside in the corridor wearing nothing but high-heeled shoes I caught the bus to Bogota. The scenery was very pretty and some of the roads were well dodgy but after about 8 hours the bus reached the outskirts of Bogota. Just as it was getting dark and in the middle of a dodgy industrial area with loads of shady characters is where the bus decided to break down.

Not only was the bus blocking a major road with angry bus drivers, taxi's and civilians hooting at us but it attracted the shady's like fly's to shit. In desperation the driver called his mate on another bus and 20 minutes later we were all whisked onto another bus and to safety. When I sat down a friendly old Colombian lady gave me a small laminated card. I thanked her and checked it. It seemed to be some kind of Christian blessed card to protect whoever carries it (shit...is Bogotoa that bad!).

The Bogota bus terminal is huuuge (with a capital Hu). It took me almost half an hour to find where the taxi's were. The good thing is you can't just hop into a taxi here (way too dodgy) so like in Mexico city you give your details and destination to a counter girl where she logs them and you then get a known taxi. Its pricier than a normal cab but at least you have some form of peace of mind. $4 later I arrived at the famous Platypus hostel in the La Candelaria area of town. They were full (not a bad thing because the owners seemed to have attitude) so I went next door to the hostel Sue (pronounced Swe and apparently its the word for backpacker in a Colombian indigenous language).

Nice crowd here and the owners and staff were well friendly. On a side note. There was a bit of a sad story about an event that happened at the sister hostel round the corner (Sue 2). A young English fella who'd been staying there for a month and had been Coked and Mushroomed up for most of that time decided to smash a bottle of beer and cut his own throat with it. Sadly he died within minutes in front of some of his travel buddies. Apparently he was pretty ropey emotionally anyway but the gear just pushed him over the edge. Did I mention that Bogota (and particularly the hostel Sue) is freeeeeezing. In the TV room most people wear wooly hats and jackets whilst watching films and checking the internet. After settling in and doing the usual hostel backpacker talk ("What's your name...where you from...how long you been here...where you heading...where have you arrived from...have you tried the gear here yet?") I bumped into the German girl from Salento..yes, the one I stole all those delicious Austrian biccies from. Sheepishly I apologised and confessed my crime. She laughed and told me they cooked 3 bowls worth for Xmas anyway (damnit...should have eaten more...and stayed there for Xmas). As a small token of goodwill I made her a tea and had a chat. She was a bit depressed because her boyfriend had to fly back home and she was adjusting to solo travel again (can be tough).

For dinner I snagged a bowl of rice from a generous English bloke called Chris and watched Super Bad wearing my hat, most of the clothes I own and two pairs of socks (great film by the way). Tomorrow on new years eve I plan to have a mosy around town and check out a few museums.

My planned sight-seeing was a disaster. All of the museum and places of interest were closed (duh!) so I just had a walk around. Bogota's a bloody big city (6th biggest in South America apparently) so I only managed to see some of it. Its a very lively place...again loads of shops everywhere (as well as loads of crack heads about). Back at the hostel in the late afternoon the beers were already being opened and liquor organised. Stupidly the majority chose to watch a film called Requiem for a Dream..probably the most depressing film ever made (about a decline of a family and friends after getting into drugs). Needless to say everyone was depressed after that but after downing some Vodka and cokes we all chirped up.

The hostel was putting on a late dinner for everyone so drinking continued until the 11pm super dinner. I was getting a tad homesick after catching clips of the celebrations in London (5 hours ahead). After scoffing the delicious seafood paella a bright spark decided we should head to the big plaza to catch some fireworks and burning of human dolls (local tradition is to burn a life sized cloth doll to bring in the new year). It was 11.40 so we all rushed out to get there before 12. Now, Bogota isn't the safest of places on any given day but just before midnight the place was totally deserted. As our group of 15 gringo's pranced down the street merrily the only people we met and who followed us were crazy Colombian crack heads. After 15 minutes of walking the dead streets we reached a dead plaza. The place was empty (noooooooooooooooooooooo).

So the New Years hugging and singing of Auld Lang Zine for me was done whilst walking back to the hostel, in the middle of 7th street (Calle 7) surrounded by crack heads shouting 'Feliz Anos' (and then whispering 'Peso's por favor'. Well, it was different anyway and in some ways so Colombian. Always expect the unexpected and surreal here (like in most of Gabriel C Marquez's books). Back at the hostel and after downing more drinks everyone headed to a club called Cinema (a top club apparently). The place was small but heaving and had some good tunes playing all night. As can be imagined allot of dance and talk inducing stuff was done by all and after 7 hours of boogying, talking shit and making allot of 'new friends' we all walked out into a crisp sunny New Years day and headed back to the hostel for more merriment.

Crawled into bed at 9am and obviously didn't get any kip so at 2pm got up to find everyone still up and watching DVD's. Today, lets just say there isn't anything to write about except all day long everyone was muttering 'Fuck I feel shit' and allot of people seemed to have colds and runny noses (strange...).

Today the plan was to catch the famous Salt Cathedral (a warren of tunnels and a cathedral built in a salt mine) so caught the local bus to Zipaquira and did the 20 minute walk to the mines. It was all very touristy (well, it is the number 1 tourist attraction in Colombia) but quite impressive inside the mine. To be honest I expected more (maybe more spectacular) but it was still good (half price on Wednesdays too...only $3). On the way back I took the wrong bus and somehow ended up in east Bogota (something possibly only I could do) and after many hours of direction asking I arrived safe and sound on a bus heading the right way.

Late afternoon I went to see the Botero museum which also had a collection from the famous Museo de Oro (gold museum). All very impressive and some strange pictures in the collection (and free!). The rest of the day was a continuation of recovery day and chatting with the hostellers about our new years eve antics.

Today me and Hannah (the German biscuit girl) decided to do some clothes shopping. Rumour has it that on new years eve my fellow revelers had trouble discerning me from the homeless crack heads so it was time to buy a few new T-shirts. Went to a huuuuge shopping centre out of town and spent 5 painful hours shopping (1 hour is usually my limit). Got me 2 cool T's for $25 and nearly went mental and bought a hoodie sweatshirt for $75 (Sweet Jesus...what was I thinking?). As I was leaving Bogota in the morning (as was Hannah and Chris but in opposite directions I cooked us a spaghetti carbonara (all home made of course...thanks Knorr) and had a few drinks.

As usual I've gone over my time in Colombia...but it just can't be helped. Colombia is just the dog's bollocks. Tomorrow I head to a half way point to Venezuela (San Gil...a small town of outdoor activities) and then after a few days there head to Venezuela. I've heard even more reports of how crap and dangerous Venezuela is and just crossing the border needs a guide book to itself. I haven't met anyone that has a good word to say about Venezuela..how weird is that? Should be ok though..I've now got some good instructions from the hostel in San Gil.

In Venezuela I'm going to spend a few days in Merida, then maybe (if I'm feeling mad enough) spend a fe days in Caracas and lastly head towards the fabled Angel Falls for 3 days of tough hiking. At the moment I'm in San Gil and tomorrow am doing a Paraglide over the waterfalls here (Can't wait but am shit scared).

Time to bid a fond farewell to Bogota and the good people at the hostel and the crack heads of the streets. There was a really good crowd in the hostel (quite lucky really): loads of English, German, Canadian (my favourite travellers..I've never met a moody Canadian yet), American, Mexican, Colombian and Finnish (she was a strange one. Every night she would bring a homeless crack head into the hostel to feed him..to the despair of everyone else. On new years eve I went to give her a new years hug and she screamed in fear and backed away (quite disconcerting..I had to check myself in the mirror after that but thankfully she did the same for everyone).

Caught the 10am bus to San Gil and enjoyed some stunning scenery and a comfy ride. The usual mix of people on the bus: middle aged women, couples and singletons. Arrived in San Gil at 6pm and walked through the cosy town square (totally heaving with people) to get to the Macondo hostel (run by an Aussie new age hippie fella called Shaun). After a week of dorm beds (smelly socks hanging near my nose, waking up at 4am when somebody lashed up accidentally walks in to the wrong room and turns the lights on, nearly falling on my head a few times trying to get down from the top bunk (acrobatic skills are a must for top bunks) and crazy queues for the bathroom it was time for some privacy. Took a single room ($12) and then chilled out in the communal area. Hammocks and beer.

Dinner in the main square was a few slices of pizza and a water. Early night tonight and have booked myself for some paragliding tomorrow (quite nervous about this but since my canopying and tarzan swing experience in Costa Rica I seem to have conquered my fear of heights..nice).

It's well nice to be in a hot climate again. Bogota and especially the Sue hostel was freezing..here its damned hot. Just hung around chatting to other travelers waiting for my pickup for the paragliding at 1pm. As is usual in these parts my pickup was late and at 1.30 with a bus full of Colombians I headed up a winding, high country road and after an hour reached the paragliding point. I was under the impression that the glide would be above the waterfalls but I was wrong. Still, it was an amazing spot. After the organiser jotted everyone's weight down (lighter people first..so obviously I was going to be flying quite early on).

Four hours later my name was called (shit..should have had a beer before). A helmet was donned and the paragliding instructor strapped me in and after tugging on the parachute ran over the edge of the hill. What a feeling! The first few seconds of running and lift off are scary but after that its all peaceful gliding through the air like a bird. After 10 minutes of flying the instructor asked me something in Spanish to which I replied "si, si". I didn't fully understand what he meant but soon found out when he tilted the wing of the paraglider and we started freefalling towards ground (sheeeet that was great fun) and just when I thought I was a goner he pulled on the controls and we started lifting up on the air currents. That was worth every penny ($30) and a top experience for me.

Got chatting to a Colombian couple called Fernando and Lena and caught a lift back to town with them. Had a good drink with them and once again it was proved to me that one of many things Colombia is famous for is true (with a capital Tru).

A day of recovery and taking it easy. Got a night bus to catch at 7pm. Wandered around a bit and chatted to the backpackers. It seems 90% of travellers go south via Ecuador...avoiding Venezuela deliberately. I'll see if their wrong to do that or not. Caught night bus to Cucuta (7pm..arrived Cucuta at 5am). Quote from guidebook.."Warning, Cucuta and the surrounding area is a large area for smuggling and guerrilla activity. Be careful. The bus station is overrun with thieves and con men who try every trick in the book" I agree..its a shit hole. Luckily for me all the con men were probably still tucked up in bed somewhere and didn't have any problems.

Changing the subject completely, reading an email from Hannah (the German biscuit girl) I heard news of a young American fella called Kevin that everyone was talking about when I was staying at the Plantation House. For future reference he will be known as Doughnut. A day before I arrived in Salento (Colombian coffee plantation area) the Doughnut decided to go trekking in the mountains. Everyone including Tim the hostel owner warned him against it (as mentioned in the previous blog it was pissing down every day). Not heeding any of the warnings off he went with 3 days food, a few clothes and no tent (apparently he was quite an arrogant adventurous type). Nothing was heard of the Doughnut for 8 days and everyone was worried. On the 9th day (and purely by chance) a couple hiking in the mountains found a body sprawled next to a river wearing only a pair of shorts and a body as pale and blue as ice. They thought he was dead but on checking his pulse found a heartbeat. An air rescue chopper was called in (always handy having a mobile on hikes) and he was flown straight to hospital in Armenia. Most of his toes had to be amputated, having severe frostbite and he hadn't eaten for 4 days. For some strange reason he'd stripped off and thrown all his clothes and equipment away. A few theories are flying around; one being that he found some hallucinogenic plants and went off into cuckoo land, prancing about the mountains in his shorts. Another more realistic theory is that he was so far gone from lack of food and the cold that he went a bit mental. The fella is only 23 and now has just one or two toes left and God knows what other illnesses because of it. (sigh) What a doughnut!

I was thinking about the Doughnut as I was sitting outside the Cucuta bus terminal waiting for daylight and also waiting for the usual guy on a bike with an array of coffees in flasks to warm me up with nice cuppa. At 6am the sun came out and the bus terminal was abuzz with activity. Bought myself a large cup of Tinto (hot coffee with a dash of sugar) and pondered my plan of action for crossing the border. The border is 14km away starting at a bridge (Colombian side) and the bridge is no mans land. After crossing the bridge comes a small town called San Antonio (sounds nice but it is in fact a dump).

In San Antonio I have to find a small office which is the Venezuelan border office (which going by reports from fellow travelers is a bastard to find). Also, the road from San Cristobal to Merida is famous for military searches (for drugs I presume and the scary strip searches). Well, all things considered it all went pretty smoothly. I caught a cab to the bridge, sorted out my Colombian exit stamp (a lot of trouble in Venezuela if I don't get this), walked across the bridge and lo and behold there is actually a Venezuelan border control office just after the bridge (just as it should be). So much for my fellow travelers and looking for an office in town. Just goes to show a lot of reports from other travelers have to be taken with a bucket of salt.

As I was about to get a colectivo (minibus) to the main bus terminal in San Antonio I realised I didn't have any Venezuelan money (Doh!). I'd rustled up as many dollars as I could (apparently you can double your money on the black market with the $....some people said triple but again its not true) but forgot to change some. It was too early to change anywhere so using a taxi driver as a guide I got him to find me a dodgy money dealer back in Colombia (yes, we had to drive through customs again) and changed the minimum needed ($1 got me 4,500 Bolivars).

And so after getting my money sorted out and catching a bus from San Antonio to San Cristobal I leave Colombia with great, great sadness. I have to admit there was a tear drop or two in my eyes as I left (for the second time). Colombia really is a special place for me and also for all other travelers I've met here and if it wasn't for my natural instinct to carry on traveling (there may be somewhere even better waiting for me) I could quite easily stay for a few more months..maybe more. Everything Colombia is famous for (the good parts) is true. There is so much to see here, the people are genuinely friendly and will bend over backwards to help you, the girls are staggeringly gorgeous and fun, the transport system works and most things are relatively cheap and there aren't that many tourists here (not yet anyway). Forget the dangers, I felt safe pretty much everywhere (there is such a big military presence everywhere). Using common sense and heeding local advice is important though. It may change in 5 to 10 years as the tourism industry is really growing here now and then it may be packed with American tourists...we'll see. Colombia is officially my top country in world (so far). One thing is for sure and quoting from the great actor, governor, poet and lyricist Arnold Shwarzenegger..."I'll be back!".

This last week has been pretty full on with partying and bus journeys so bought myself some DVD's (American Gangster (great film by the way) and 28 Weeks Later (sadly, not so great)..$2 for both) and checked into the hotel Rio near bus terminal for an afternoon and evening of catching up on sleep and relaxing so I'll be fresh for another longish bus journey to Merida tomorrow.