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")