Farewell to Latinoamerica

Well, the time has come; having seriously run out of money and with no immediate prospect of gainful emplyoment here, we are preparing ourselves to go home to the UK. As I write this I am sitting in Carolina´s flat in Bogota, preparing for a last day of sightseeing (we are visiting the world´s only cathedral built entirely from salt) and packing our bags.

The last two weeks have been a welcome change of pace, as we dandled our feet in the bath-temperature water of the carribbean on the island of Baru near Cartagena. We spent our days eating freshly-caught fish, reading and snorkelling on the coral reefs next to the beach, and nights sleeping in hammocks, being eaten alive by mosquitos and lulled to sleep by the song of crickets and frogs.

Leaving this idyll was difficult despite the fierce sun, but we headed next to Medellin, Colombia´s second city and a very civilised place indeed (now that there are no motorcycle hitmen gunning down rival gangsters on the streets). We explored the city, visiting parks and heading out for a daytrip to the ancient city of Santa Fe de Antioca, a calm and pleasant 16th century town with white-washed walls and a relaxed pace.

Another restless nightbus trip and we were back in Bogota, hearing horror stories about missing bombs on the roads we were travelling by only a matter of hours (FARQ and the paramilitaries are evidently not quite finished in Colombia yet!) and chilling out with Carolina´s two kittens Cecelia and Ringo. Bogota is chilly and overcast and probably a good re-introduction to the English "summer" we are (somewhat reluctantly) heading back to, but we are also looking forward to seeing friends and family in sleepy Hereford.

Cecelia (right) and Ringo (left)

South America has been amazing, frustrating, scary, hilarious, awe-inspiring, relaxing and at times extremely challenging. Our spanish has come on in leaps and bounds, and we are both sure that we´ll be back at some time in the not-too-distant future.

PS Here are my awards for best, worst, most friendly etc.

Friendliest people: Colombia (special mention to Otovalo in Ecuador)
Best typical food: Ecuador
Most amazing landscape: Peru
Best value-for-money: Bolivia
Best music: Chile
Most comfortable place to travel: Chile
Most diverse landscape: Colombia
Most hilarious haircuts: tie between Ecuador (for sculpted hair) and Colombia (for omnipresent gangsta mullets)
Scariest journey: Cali to Pasto after dark through FARQ country
Worst drivers: A packed field, but honours probably go to Peru where our bus crashed into a stationary traffic policeman´s booth in the middle of the road
Worst food: Bolivia - particularly vegetarian-hostile and very fond of deep-frying
Favourite place: Machu Picchu at dawn
Country most likely to return to (with a job lined up or on holiday): Colombia

What, the FARC?

Had to be done, sorry. After the disastrous weekend in Bogota (where we had narrowly missed being mugged at knifepoint outside our hostel - this honour had accrued to a canadian couple who were there a couple of hours earlier), we fled up to the carribean coast. First stop was the town of Santa Marta, and the heat hit us like a wall getting off the bus. Santa Marta was a stop-off point en route to the tiny but massively crowded bay of Taganga, where Colombians were enjoying another of their unending long weekends, and Laur was set to do her PADI open water diving certificate (this means you can dive anywhere in the world, become an instructor etc).

Laur just before hitting the water

This went smoothly, and I spent the days looking for work and applying for temp jobs back in the UK, while she swanned off onto the high seas to enjoy gawping at coloured fish and coral (not bitter, really!). All was fine and we were about to set off for Cartagena, when fate dealt us another blow - I collapsed with what was at first feared to be appendicitis! Luckily this was misdiagnosed initially by a cautious, friendly German medic called Billy - who accompanied me to the hospital and explained my symptoms to the doctor in the A&E, and it turned out to be a localised infection in my lower intestine (as I write this I am still taking antibiotics - just as well as it is keeping me off the beer/rum).

The upshot of it all was another two days in Taganga while I recuperated and Laura got increasingly bored - but had the patience of saint. Eventually we hopped a bus to Cartagena, where it was even hotter if possible than Taganga. This town is a fantastic remnant of Spanish rule, with gorgeous, historical streets and graceful buildings more redolent of Venice than anywhere in latin america, and surrounded by thick medieval walls looking out onto azure seas. We´re here now, sweltering in the heat of day and wandering through the streets in the cool evenings. Tomorrow we head out to the Playa Blanca for some more horizontal time...

Otovalo and back to Colombia

When you get some bad news like that, there´s only one thing for it - shopping. En route from Quito was the lovely market town of Otovalo, home to the friendliest ecuadorians and the cheapest handmade clothing this side of the equator (just). We spent a couple of days enjoying the chilled vibe and visiting a local Condor sanctuary with some brits we met, then continued on back to Ipiales and the historic town of Popayan, which had been levelled twice by earthquakes in the past century, but rebuilt to its 16th century glory.

Laur sips coconut water at Otovalo market

A local in Otovalo with the trademark hat and ponytail

Raptors!

American eagle

King of birds - the andean condor up close!

As a stinger to the Quito disappointment, we had been presented with a ludicrous 16-point list of things to present for a visa for Laura to enter Argentina to get her flight back (passed to us from behind a mirror while other furious victims of the system raged impotently in the corridor), so we had changed it to leave from Bogota. With this in mind we headed for the mystical region of San Augustin, where hundreds of pre-Colombian statues were scattered round a huge natural reserve.

central square in Popoyan, Colombia

The dome in Popoyan, faithfully rebuilt after two major earthquakes

Having endured a long, bumpy bus ride, again through bandit country as half of Colombia seems to be, we thought the best thing for our backsides would be 4 hours in the saddle; which made for a fantastic day in an evocative landscape (pics coming!). Reluctantly leaving the idyllic ecolodge which had been our base for the previous few days, we headed back to Bogota for a final big weekend. It turned out to be a bit too big, and cultural plans (other than a fleeting visit to the Museum of Gold) were marred by a massive hangover and the loss of Laura´s camera in a taxi the night before - our streak of bad luck was continuing.

Horse-cam in San Augustin

Pre-colombian statues in the rock

Coloured statues represent life and death

Contemplating the serenity, again

view from our teepee in the eco-lodge

amazing centipede

butterfly attacks in the statue park

San Augustin

Bogota and beyond...

After a couple of fun nights drinking arguardiente and listening to vallenato with our host Colombian family, it was time to strap on the formal clothes for our intensive Berlitz teacher training. We did this over 7 intense days, as people from the class were dropping out and being compulsorily dropped out, like getting voted off a reality tv show. To add to the pressure, I had an interview for my dream job back in the UK with Oxfam, so instead of resting over the weekend I had to frantically prepare. But we passed, and were offered contracts to work with Berlitz - the next challenge would be to take Laura´s dodgy emergency passport back, through FARC and bandit country, to the Ecuadorian border, from where we would head to Quito and the Colombian embassy for our work visas.

Our introduction to Colombian bureacracy didn´t bode well, as after a relaxing weekend away with Caro at the popular colombian retreat of Melgar ("over 1000 swimming pools in this (very small) village" as a proud local told me), we were presented with the documents to take to Ecuador. Lots of them, all which needed to come from government departments, be stamped in triplicate and then verified by a public notary. Helpfully, Berlitz HR told us that we would carry all the risk and expense of getting the visa, so after a couple of frantic days complying with the bizarre legal requirements for foreigners set forth by the franky opportunistic Colombian government, changing bus ticket times as new requirements were ordained on the spot, and doing the rounds of most of the departments that deal with extranjeros, we set off on a night bus to Ipiales on the border, already reminiscing about innocent days dipping cheese in hot chocolate and having lunch in our classmate´s home.

From here things started to take a turn for the forboding; as our bus had left so late, we were going through the "most dangerous part of Colombia" (there turned out to be a few of these!!) at night, something which every blogger and guide says not to do. We passed the border quickly and without incident however, and were soon sailing back into Quito, and the lovely Colonial House Hostel, our favourite home way from home in SA where we had spent happy, innocent days drinking wine and watching DVDs from their massive collection.

The San Blas neighbourhood of Quito

Church in the centro historico of Quito

The next day dealt the body blow - because Laur was on an emergency passport, and despite the protestations of Berlitz, and the promises of myriad government officials - she was denied a work visa. Weeks of stress, expense and worry since we had first flown to Bogota had come to their perhaps predictable conclusion, and we sadly saddled up again, determined to enjoy the rest of our remaining time in SA.

Taunting the guinea pig before eating it

The main course ("cuy")

Welcome to Bogota

It's 10 June, and we have now settled into life in Bogota, Colombia. After getting wind of potential work in an English-teaching school, we saddled up and flew out of Quito last Sunday, arriving in Bogota late in the evening. Fortunately we were met at the airport by the lovely Carolina, an old friend of Laura's from London who had returned home to Colombia and was ready and willing to look after a couple of weary travellers in her chi-chi flat in Bella Suiza - once again we had landed on our feet in an upmarket part of town.

After meeting the family, and a bit of sight-seeing, it was all hands to the pump as we prepared ourselves for our foray into the corporate world. Berlitz has a strict teaching method, and since my experience had been restricted to casually-prepared Amnesty training workshops, conversation swaps with spanish teachers in La Paz and talking to big conferences, I was a little taken aback at how much real work teachers actually have to do!

Colombia however seems like a country which is really revving up in the 21st century, having shrugged off the spectre of FARC and having reigned in the drug barons - still a hot topic of conversation for Bogotonians to this day - it is powering ahead due to abundant natural resources and an increasing openess to trade and foreign investment. However it's also quite evident that widespread poverty exists, not to mention some of the most persistent begging I've experienced anywhere on the continent. But Colombians are also renowned for friendliness and inclusiveness, something I've already seen ample evidence of too.

A low point.. and another relocation

Chile, thursday 19th May and disaster strikes - while we are innocently enjoying the nightlife in downtown Santiago, a bounder of indeterminate nationality is nicking Laur´s backpack out of our supposedly secure, locked hostel. By bye laptop, credit cards, camera leads, passport, cash and, most gallingly, a box of essential oils which were making our sometimes manky budget hostel beds smell tolerable.

We tried to put it all out of our minds with a short overnight trek to the amazing, UNESCO-rated port city of Valparaiso, some 150kms from Santiago. When we arrived, we´d been walking for a short time when our throats and eyes started to burn. We´d been warned by friends the night before (the lovely Peter and Tanya Pope and a Chilean friend) that there was some heavy, demonstration-type of stuff going down in Valpo that weekend; it is the seat of government and a target for street protests. Basically, the police had spent the day tear-gassing local teenagers, and we were still feeling the fall-out the next day!

Back in Santiago, we said our goodbyes to the city and tried to get over the feeling of being violated/losing our trust, as we had been done over by a very professional thief taking advantage of the easy-going environment of the traveller "community". We flew to Quito in Ecuador the next afternoon, on what turned out to be a 7-hour flight (I had mentally prepared myself for 3 hours), and arrived tired and spaced out at our hostel in the hectic Mariscal area of downtown Quito, sharing a taxi with a young american medical student.

Main square of Quito in the centro historico

Tumbling bouganvilleas in our side trip to Banyos

The next day we checked into another hostel, and started to repeat the process of finding a longer-term stay and a spanish school. Quito, like La Paz, is in an incredible location, with towering green Andean mountains to one side, and is huge colonial historical centre, where we wandered into the Mercado Central, dodging the frantic buses that hurtle down the middle of main roads oblivious to wandering school-children. Apart from another nasty shock as a delayed bank statement showed that our stolen debit card was used to take money from our account the day that Laur´s bag was stolen, it´s been a sunny and fascinating stay in Quito so far and we are looking forward to possibly settling in here for a while.

A museum in Banyos

Interior of the Compania de Jesus church in Quito

Paradise regained

After bussing through the somewhat less-than-inspiring desert in Chile's north - or maybe I am being unfair comparing the north of Chile to the south of Bolivia - we came to the pleasant port town of La Serena, which largely lived up to its name. We spent a couple of relaxed days in the town or on its beach nearby, and where we saw Chilean political protest in action - about a hundred students and families protesting about some environmental outrage or other. The next day we ventured out on a boat to see the Humbolt penguin reserve; no luck spotting dolphins or whales but we did see an otter having lunch, which was great.

Flee!

Humbolt penguins doing their thing

Sea otter almuerzo

Having exhausted the possibilities in La Serena we ran the gamut of colectivo drivers trying to turn a profit from some tourists on a slow day, and sped off through Vicuna, later to arrive in a veritable oasis, the fantastic Elqui Valley a few hundred miles north of Santiago. It's a geographic anomoly, with towering desert mountains on either side of a lush, permanently watered valley covered in pisco and malbec vineyards. We opted for the most remote village in the region to stay, and were so glad we did that we extended our stay at the wonderful Tresora de Elqui hotel by another two nights.

horsemen in the Elqui Valley

long view of Elqui Valley

the moon through a mamalluca telescope

The lifestyle here is more reminiscent of Italy, Spain or France - days involve lounging by the pool in the fierce sun, reading in Castellano, cycling to artisanal villages and pisco vineyards, and continuing our remote job search for Ecuador. At night we wander about town or visit the terrific Mamalluca Observatory - the biggest telescope in the world, through which I actually saw Saturn with my own eyes! Our companions continue to be a strange melange of europeans: german families, posh english gappers, tourists from other parts of Chile, and the pace of life is relaxed. It will be a struggle to pull ourselves away from this little idyll for the trip to Santiago, but all good things must come to an end...

Enjoying some local vino collapso after a long ride