The End

There are several ways in which I could have ended this big adventure. For weeks I have been asking myself what would be the perfect way to end such an incredible experience. And so with only 5 days left before I fly to Chicago and catch up on a long lost social life, I decided to take it easy and reflect upon what Ali and I have achieved throughout the past 16 months. The jungle-fringed Caribbean beaches sounded like the perfect place to chillout after 471 days of global exploration, and a great opportunity to write the ending to what has been an incredible story. I can't imagine how difficult this must be must be for you to come to terms with and I can only apoligise. I know that many of you blog fiends have been quite entertained by my trails and tribulations over the past year and probably dread the thought of life without "My Big Adventure". I can assure you, I'm having difficulty comprehending it myself.

Contrary to popular belief, the world is extremely big and I still feel like there's so much more out there that I need to see. Quite ironic considering this is the complete opposite to what I was hoping to achieve by traveling around the world. It's upsetting to know that I'll never see it all in one lifetime but consider myself extremely lucky to have had the opportunity to see so much of it already. I suppose you're wondering what my favorite place was? An impossible question to answer considering we have visited so many countries, each with their own unique character and identity, but I’m happy to report that there hasn't been a single country that has disappointed me. One of the main reasons for this is because I rarely let myself develop expectations. Although there were places where their reputation exceeded them, I always resisted painting too detailed a picture in my head in order to avoid disappointment. Another common topic of discussion between Ali and I has been the use of a guide book. Although undeniably we would have been lost without one, I do feel like it denied us of our sense of adventure and I personally would have enjoyed being a little lost at times. Everything we have done has been well considered and exhaustively planned so that there was never any room for error or unexpected surprises. Why? Because traveling in the developing world poses certain risks and completely justifies such caution. It was a sacrifice worth making and as a result, we have our health and many positive memories to thank for it. Another frequently asked question is "how was your relationship with Ali?" Considering the amount of time we have spent with each other it's quite remarkable that we haven't even been slightly tempted to kill each other. I can honestly say that I would have been lost without my counterpart and couldn't imagine being able to do what we have done with anyone else. I consider myself to be extremely fortunate to have had the opportunity to share such an amazing experience with such a good friend. Thanks Ali xx

And so, after 20 countries, over 70 cities, probably hundreds of buses, numerous trains, and surprisingly few flights, here's my personal best and worst of it all:

Italy: best Florence and seeing the flawless David for the first time. worst Naples. A city littered with filth and devoid of charm. Germany: best Visiting the Reichstag. A perfect example of modern architecture working in harmony with traditional. A difficult thing to do well and I applaud Sir Norman Foster for a job well done. worst Our ability to communicate. Although many people in Berlin speak English, we had a hard time finding any when we needed it. Poland: best Old Town. The charming square adorned with beautiful architecture and horse drawn carts was like stepping back in time. worst SAM. In case you missed that entry, S.A.M. is an akronymn for the Stange African Man who kept us up all night with his "condition" and even involved the police. Russia: best Lake Baikal and staying with Elgar - the old Siberian woman who fed and bed us in her little village house. The lake was breathtaking and I will never forget walking on its miles of frozen surface. worst When I fell through it! Mongolia: best Sleeping in a traditional felt tent in the middle of a desert. worst Riding that pathetic lazy horse in sub-zero temperatures for hours on end. China: best The Great Wall. It was one of those places that still blow you away regardless of how many pictures you've seen or expectations you build. another best Hong Kong was everything I hoped it would be, jam-packed full of character, culture, personality and history. Definitely a place I would go back to. worst Mmmm, let me see... constant diarrhea, squatting, spitting, hawking and the ridiculously huge population of uncivilised folk made my visit to China a little uncomfortable at times. But then, looking back, that's also what I kind of like about it. Japan: best Meeting the Baba's! Their hospitality and generosity was never-ending and made for an unforgettable experience. I have so many wonderful memories from Japan but I think the most memorable one is the onsen. Sharing a natural hot spring with Baba's brother, drinking sake from a saucer, and watching Japanese eagles fly around above me was truly... words can not describe! The high level of respect for both people and the environment is one of the main reasons why I intend to visit Japan many more times in the future. Their local customs, quaint traditions and formal etiquette is what sets them apart from the rest of Asia. worst Not having enough time or money to stay longer. Vietnam: best The coffee was quite possibly the best I have ever had. Ha Long Bay looked too beautiful to be real and life in the Mekong Delta was a real eye-opening experience. To watch locals buy food from the floating markets and travel by boat along the extensive waterways is to really appreciate how differently these people live their lives. Memories of relaxing in hammocks on the white sandy beaches of the remote Phu Quoc island, motorbike taxi rides through Hanoi, beautiful beaches in Hoi Ann and treks through villages and rice terraces make Vietnam one of my highly recommended countries to visit! worst Ho Chi Minh City. Ali's camera got stolen here and it was a horrible experience. Cambodia: best Without a doubt the temples and ruins of Angkor. It's not surprising parts of Tomb Raider was filmed here. It wasn't just the achievements of the Angkor civilisation that was impressive, it was the destructive nature of its environment which made it such an amazing place to visit. Ancient temples in the middle of the jungle torn apart by roots of trees and strangled by vines. City after city, each one more impressive than the last with the most intricate and complex of details. worst Sihanoukville where there was nothing but beaches except the weather never made it possible to enjoy them. However it did allow us to visit Bokor National Park and wander around the spooky delapotated (but not ruined) French hotel from the 1930's on top of a hill. It was fascinating and very cool! Thailand: best Elephant treking in the jungle near Chang Mai, the Royal Palace in Bangkok and the beautiful islands of Koh Phi Phi and Koh Tao. worst That bloody boat trip across the Andaman from Phi Phi to Phuket. I honestly thought I was going to die! Laos: best The incredible scenery along the Mekong river and Buddhist temples of Luang Prabang. An incredibly spiritual experience. worst The whisky that cost only 50 pence a bottle (yes really). Australia: best Sailing the Whitsundays. Never in my lifetime did I expect to sail around pristine islands on a racing yaht let alone learn how to operate one. worst Canberra. The lamest excuse for a city! New Zealand: best Climbing Franz Josef glacier is one of the coolest things I've ever done (literally) and the constant landscapes that take your breath away makes New Zealand one of the most well endowed countries in the world. worst When I almost drowned in our tent which wasn't quite as water resistant as it should have been. Chile: best The moon-like terrain of the Atacama Desert and climbing the active volcano Villarica which was our most challenging climb but extremely rewarding. worst 24 hours on a bus from Santiago to San Pedro de Atacama. Argentina: best The meat! Iguazu falls was definitely the highlight for me and Buenos Aires was a fun place to hang out for a while. worst Our ability to tango! Paraguay: best when we got to leave the country. worst The nightmare we had at the border when our bus made us enter two countries without obtaining the necessary stamps in our passport. Bolivia: best Solar de Uyuni. Still, I think the most amazing sight of my entire life. It was jaw dropping! worst The buses in Bolivia made traveling unbelievably uncomfortable. Peru: best Another well endowed country. The mysteries of Nazca, the achievements of the Incas and the opportunity to try two new sports - sand boarding and rock climbing. It's impossible to say what I liked the most but I suppose nothing really can beat the splendours and mysteries of Machu Picchu. An experience of a lifetime! worst Sickness in Cuzco and having my bag stolen on the boat in Iquitos. Colombia: best Making new friends in Bogotá and the Parque del Café in Quindio. Parque Tayrona (which is where I am now) has got to be the most beautiful however. I sleep in a hammock and wake up to the sun rise over the Carribean. Jungles, beaches and crystal clear water. Like I said, the perfect place to end my trip.

It was difficult to think of negative aspects regarding the countries we've visited not only because time has faded the memories, but because I look upon the less than pleasant experiences as actually being part of the positive. I suppose what I'm saying is that there are no such things as bad experiences. An experience no matter how il-recieved at the time is either a valuable lesson learnt or a reminder of how difficult life can be in other parts of the world. I suppose you could say I now have a greater appreciation for what we have in the West. It's strange...a few months ago I was really starting to miss having a home and really felt like I was ready to end the entire trip, but now that my trip has ended I don't want it to. All of a sudden I feel remorse and can't quite believe it's all over. In fact, I still can't believe we even did it.

I hope Ali and I are an inspiration to all those who want to travel but for whatever reason can't bring themselves to make the commitment. I believe that traveling shouldn't be a luxury and that we should make most of the opportunities we're fortunate enough to have. I certainly wont forget these past 16 months for as long as I live.

Cartagena

A botero sculpture in one of the plazas

There is something so inextricably pleasing about sitting in a plaza that I can hardly control myself whenever the opportunity presents itself. I love the idea of being enclosed by beautiful architecture. It’s a serene and tranquil environment to relax and really appreciate your surroundings. It’s a haven away from all the hustle, bustle and stuffiness of small narrow streets. Cartagena is one of those places where you find yourself being drawn to anything and everything simultaneously. Every street you walk along looks prettier than the last and invites you wander for hours and linger on the cobbled streets. It's also one of those places that requires much restraint when every other shop sells local art, delicious food, books and souvenirs (both of the tacky and expensive variety).


The small city is loaded with color and character

One of my favorite things about Cartagena is the never ending supply of food vendors on the street. This morning my breakfast consisted of a huge fruit shake from one of the many stalls located near my hostel. As I described in Bogotá, there are many fruits to choose from and it's all so cheap. I large cup of freshly squeezed orange juice for example (the juice of eight oranges - I counted!) cost me only 2,500 pesos. That's about 50 pence! Besides the streets, churches and plazas there is also a number of castles and fortresses which were built due to the city's vulnerable location and the city itself is still surrounded by the original wall which protected it against frequent attacks from the Europeans in the 16th and 17th centuries. Of course, now the city has developed beyond the old walls and now sprawls outwards to support a current population of just over 1 million. I wish I had more time to explore the city but my mind is set. Next stop, Santa Marta – the final destination!


Typical architecture in Cartagena

Parque Nacional del Café

Colombian coffee beans

When my friends in Bogotá told me about the national park in Quindio dedicated to coffee I couldn't wait to get there. Parque Nacional del Café is located just outside the city of Armenia in the heart of Colombia. Quindio is famous for its quality coffee and banana plantations and practically cover the entire department. So after an 8-hour bus journey from Bogotá I arrived in Armenia just before dark last night. César had recommended a "cheap" place to stay that was listed under the "hostel" section in the phone book. Although César has never stayed there, he assured me it was a national chain of reputable hostels that were cheap and comfortable. I showed the address to the taxi driver at the bus terminal who seemed to know exactly where it was.

The taxi driver took me to my accommodation which was several miles outside the city. He helped me with my baggage and left me at the reception desk. I looked around to observe my surroundings – the place wasn't exactly what I had in mind. Beyond the terrace in front of me I could see several large swimming pools and well manicured gardens. Something told me this wasn’t a hostel and I was right. For 80,000 Colombian pesos a night I almost collapsed. It was late at night and considering how far away from the city I was I had no choice but to accept. The room was really nice (of course it should be for the price they charged) and was air-conditioned with a bathroom and TV. The complex looks like a huge holiday resort for families except it was completely empty. It was as if I had the whole place to myself, including all four swimming pools. Although I've just had the luxury of staying at a house in Bogotá it felt strange to be in such a clean, pleasant environment. But the guilt didn't take long to subside and I decided to made the most of what facilities they had. This morning I woke up early, went for a swim in the pool, had breakfast at the restaurant and then made my way to the park on a local bus.

It took 30 minutes to get to the park and I passed many coffee and platano plantations along the way. Platano is a Colombian vegetable which belongs to the banana family. It's difficult to order any meal in this country without it being accompanied by a slice of fried platano. The main purpose for visiting Armenia was to learn more about the production of coffee and I certainly did just that. The park not only offered museums and exhibitions with interesting information but also some of the most incredible gardens and landscapes too. My whole morning was spent walking along the "Coffee Trail" which presented many different types of flora and fauna. Coffee, of course, was everywhere escept when interrupted by jungle, bamboo forests and tons of exotic tropical flowers and plants. I couldn't stop taking pictures of everything that introduced itself. It truly was a remarkable place but the best part was when I got to visit the "Jardín de Café" (Garden of Coffee) which featured different coffee plants from around the world. Ethiopia, Brasil, Colombia, Costa Rica...you name it, they had the beans and were all growing side by side. A world of coffee right before my very eyes!


This coffee plant was from Costa Rica


Typical of Quindio - Coffee and bananas!


A banana plantation


One of the many beautiful tropical plants


A nursery showing the initial growth from a single bean


Exotic flowers everywhere!

Why Eleven Days in Bogotá?

Plaza de Bolivar

Ali wasn’t really in the mood for more big city action and decided to continue north with a connecting flight to Cartagena. We said goodbye at the airport in Bogotá and arranged to meet up a few days later once I was done with the capital. Those couple of days turned into 11 and now we are so far apart I’m not sure what will happen next. So here are my excuses for staying in the city a lot longer than I should have…

The hospitality I received upon arriving in Bogotá was more than I anticipated and one of the main reasons for staying in Bogotá 3 times longer than I had originally planned. A few weeks prior to my arrival, Baba put me in contact with Jürgen, a friend of his who now lives in Bogotá with his partner Fabio. Jürgen is originally from Germany but also lived in Chicago for 3 years which is how he came to meet our mutual friend Baba. Jürgen is an English professor at one of the universities in the city and in addition to his native German, also speaks fluent Spanish. Fabio works for a Venezuelan airline and has no choice but to learn both English and German from Jürgen in his spare time. Often when Fabio attempted to speak to me in English he'd construct sentences using all three languages - quite confusing to say the least. Then there's César, a tenant who lives with Jürgen and Fabio in their apartment and also teaches English at another university downtown. César is very friendly and was only too happy to receive a foreign visitor. In fact, his initial warmth and generosity left me quite speechless after our first meeting. So with two language teachers in the house, I have essentially checked-in to a Spanish school and I’m being forced to speak Spanish night and day which is tiresome but rewarding.


Fabio, Jürgen and me

It's so nice to be back in a house again. Jürgen and Fabio's apartment is more than comfortable and extremely large. So big in fact that I got lost when I first arrived. Upon entering the apartment you are met with a large open space consisting of a dining area, lounge area, TV room and balcony. The kitchen is equally as impressive with a black tiled ceiling and units imported from Germany. Actually, the whole apartment has been furnished compliments of his Grandmother's inheritance. I was surprised to hear that in Germany it’s completely customary to remove every single item from inside your house before moving. Sinks, kitchen units, toilets, shower fittings...everything! In addition to vast amount of space, there is no shortage of natural light to fill it as windows span the entire width from wall to wall without interruption. The additional utility rooms, common areas and a powder room complete the first half of this apartment. Yes, there's more...

The moment Jürgen stuck his fingers in the wood paneled wall and began sliding it to reveal the second half of the apartment I was astonished. Firstly because I thought my tour was almost over but clearly wasn’t, and secondly because I thought it was such a clever idea - the ability to hide your personal space when guests are present. The long corridor behind the secret sliding door presented two more bathrooms, a master bedroom, guest room, large study, the maids utility area and her room (of which is now being occupied by César the tenant) which also has an en suite bathroom. The maid still visits twice a week to cook, clean and wash clothes but doesn’t live there. The corridor also boasts lots of natural light as it is wrapped around a window-lined courtyard three floors below. As I'm sure you are already envisioning, I was more than happy with such surroundings and was extremely well looked after. After the many long days of sightseeing it was nice to return to a homely place and relax in comfort for a change.

The emerald purchase was much more difficult than it should have been and definitely more than I had anticipated. When Baba asked me to buy him an emerald in Colombia I thought he was insane. Just before I left Chicago, Baba handed me US$300 in cash and said "buy me the biggest emerald you can find". Finally his day has come and the emerald has been purchased - but not without stress and worry...Thankfully, Jürgen owns a book called Emeralds & Tanzanites, a buyers guide but after reading most of it I question whether in fact it helped or just prolonged the agony. I made 4 different trips on separate days to examine one emerald after another. Jürgen also contributed to Baba’s “emerald fund” which not only doubled the money but quadrupled the pressure to find a genuine gem of a good quality. Not too dark, not too light. Deep cut or shallow? Is this what they would call pure? Are the inclusions natural? Square or oval? Has it been coated with oil to make it look darker? What would he prefer; a big stone with less colour or a small stone with deep pure colour? Am I really getting what I pay for?

Finally, once I had reason to believe I had found the best emerald for Baba I reluctantly handed over the $600 in cash and was escorted out of the jewelers by the man who sold me the stone. He kindly put me in a taxi and made sure I was safely driven out of town. On the way home I kept staring at the emerald in bewilderment. I couldn’t believe something so small could cost so much. I just hope Cleopatra will like it.

The food in Bogotá was both varied and delicious. Thanks to the boys, I have developed quite a taste for various local fares which will no doubt persist throughout my travels in Colombia. As well as the meals they prepared for me at home, they also introduced me to other local dishes and street food which I wouldn’t have risked otherwise. César especially was eager to make me try almost every single fruit available in the country. All of which I can honestly say I have never tasted, recognized or even seen before in my entire life. Uchuba, freijoa, lulo, curuba, guayaba and the paste called bocadillo which is made from guayaba which is available almost everywhere – usually wrapped up in banana leaves and presented in nice little packages served with cheese. Yes, the use of cheese here in Colombia is quite strange considering they pair it with the most unusual items. Here it’s completely normal to sprinkle it over a fruit salad for example. I have even had the pleasure (I think) of dipping it piece by piece into a hot drink called agua de panela which is sort of like a cup of dark sugary hot water. The fun part is when you get to scoop out the melted cheese with a spoon! They even sprinkle cheese on desserts and make little balls of dough called pandebonos and buñuelos which are sold in many bakeries and street stalls around the city. Jürgen’s friend Serjio actually owns two shops that sell just these very delights. He claims his unique tropical aquariums are responsible for his success but I’m convinced it’s the quality of his balls! My two favorites of all the new things I tried are definitely arepas and obleas which can be bought from street carts all over the city. Arepas are kind of like corn-bread-cakey disks grilled with melted cheese and sometimes even with ham (mmmm), and obleas are huge sweet wafer disk sandwiches filled with cheese, dulce de mora (mulberry jam/paste) and arequipe. Arequipe is just about everywhere. They put it in everything and sell it all over the place so there is no escaping Arequipa. Buy an ice cream, bread roll, pastry or yogurt and the chances are it will be filled with the stuff. It's actually very much like the Argentinian dulce de leche which, if you recall from my earlier entries, they’re also obsessed with and adore the sickly sweet spread with a passion.


Cèsar and me eating an oblea

Jürgen took César and me to the market one Sunday morning which was an interesting experience. The market was huge and indoors for the most part. All kinds of fruit was displayed in the most creative of ways and vegetables that I didn’t even know existed graced stall after stall. Meat of all parts was on display ready for the picking and I watched in disbelief as Jürgen purchased what must have been half of an entire cow. I asked him why on earth he was buying so much meat to which he replied “we’re having schnitzels tomorrow night”. However, the most amusing event happened just after we had finished buying what we needed. At this point, just to paint the picture in your head, we were each carrying a shopping bag full of groceries from the market and had just reached the car, Cèsar is Colombian and looks like a Colombian. Jürgen must be almost 7 foot tall with blonde hair and blue eyes. Let's just say he stands out a bit! When the women selling fruit outside the market on the street saw us walking to the car, they came running towards the evident symbol of wealth and before I knew it, we were surrounded by women all declaring they had the best fruit and begged us to try it. One woman, and I'm still not sure how exactly she did this, held out an orange in front of me and with one hand managed to rip it in half and remove the skin in what must have been only a few seconds. I tried all of about 3 different delicious fruits before Jürgen finally succumb. I'm not just talking about a few apples or a bunch of bananas...the woman emptied her entire sack of oranges into Jürgen's shopping bag then held out her hand for payment - there must have been about 50 oranges, if not more! I later asked Jürgen if he always has this much fruit in the house and he said "no, but we have a guest staying with us and you will help us eat it all". I remarked that it was going to be a very fruity week!

One place that is definitely worth a mention is actually a national chain called Crepes & Waffles. There was one located just down from the street from Jürgen and Fabio's apartment and they thought it was entirely necessary to take a trip there just for the ice cream. Apparently, critics have claimed it's the best ice cream in the world and although I couldn't possibly comment on such a statement, I can honestly say that it was pretty damn good! Again, compliments of Jürgen. It was impossible to spend money when I was with him. Every time I attempted to buy anything I was either too late, or my hand was pushed away. As was the case in the Mexican restaurant - one of the best meals I had in Bogotà. Mexican is probably my second favourite food (Japanese is my numero uno) and this is the closest I'll get to trying it in its motherland. (Cèsar, Jürgen...¿Las cohiste?)

Because I'm in a country that is the second largest exporter of coffee in the world (Brazil is the 1st in case you were wondering) I have enjoyed countless great "tinto's" as they are called here. There are many different types of coffee and ways to prepare it but "tinto" is the most basic meaning filtered and black. I usually ask for a tiny bit of hot milk to be added and then it's perfect. I quickly learnt not to order the "cafe con leche" which literally translated means coffee with milk. Sounds good right? However, I could hardly believe it when I was presented with a cup full of hot coffee-flavored milk. One of the many interesting things about traveling around the world has been seeing the differences in coffee preparation. If the Italians saw for example how that woman in San Perdro de Atacama made my cappuccino, they'd probably either laugh or cry.

The last food experience I would like to share with you is actually German. Jürgen’s parents and married brother moved to Bogotá after falling in love with the country many years ago. And now, thanks to his brother, the population of Bogotá can enjoy frankfurters, doner kababs and other euro fares from his fancy-smanchy food stall in one of the city parks. It has been a huge success and it was strange to see all these Colombians lining up to get their German fix. Considering its relevance to the World Cup, business has been even busier and they even have screens in the park where you can watch the games while munching on your sauerkraut covered wurst.


The cloud forest in the National Park

The national park which is located only about an hour or so from the city was definitely one of the highlights of my visit to Bogotà. Jürgen and Fabio took me to enjoy the tranquil cloud forest and jungle landscapes that make up the entire region. We climbed a total of 500 meters up and down through lush greenery admiring the different kinds of flora and fauna. It was beautiful!

My Spanish was definitely put to the test when I arrived at Jürgen and Fabio's apartment. No English was allowed to be spoken in the house! I enjoyed the challenge but was frustrated at my lack of vocabulary. And the most painful thing was forgetting words that I had only just learnt just the day before. Every time we walked passed mundane things like a bridge, grass or a tree...Cèsar would ask me to name it. Again and again until it finally registered. But the most rewarding and interesting part of being with two English professors was when they took me to their classes and introduced me as their guest. Cèsar even asked me to mark 30 of his students at university whilst each of them presented a final oral exam in front of me and the entire group. I made them feel very nervous and I felt bad because my presence was unexpected - they had no idea that an Englishman would be marking them. Most of the students eagerly looked at me for assistance or signs of encouragement when their English failed and I found it extremely difficult to take on such a sensitive role. Some students were good but others were absolutely terrible and I even had to restrain myself from laughing on more than one occasion. The most notable presentation which really did make me laugh out loud was a group effort by three students who had written a script and performed a play before the whole class. They moved furniture around in the classroom to look like a hotel and restaurant which involved a woman going through the process of checking-in at reception followed by dinner at the restaurant. One student was the chef and the other was the receptionist. I have never laughed so much in my whole life. I only wish I could have recorded the whole thing on video.

Jürgen took me to his house class which was an hour long and mainly involved me talking to the students about my entire trip which was then followed by a ton of questions. The first question from one eager student was of course "how can you afford such a trip?". I reminded him that our economy is slightly stronger than theirs which is why I have been fortunate enough to travel for so long and in such countries. I also reminded them that I worked for 6 months in Australia which helped save more money.


Donaciòn Botero

The museums in Bogotà are incredible. I spent days looking around as many as I had time to fit in to my increasingly busy schedule. My favorite was Donaciòn Botero which is a permanent exhibition of paintings and sculptures donated by Fernando Botero, Colombia's most famous artist, to the Banco de la Rèpublica. The 208-piece collection contains 123 of Botero's own works including his paintings, drawings and sculptures plus 85 works by international artists - Picasso, Chagall, Mirò, Dali, Renoir, Matisse, Monet just to name a few. Ever since I saw a painting of his for the first time in Italy I have appreciated his work and couldn't resist buying a few souvenirs from the gallery. His ability to paint everything obese (including fruit and even trees) is truly remarkable and a pleasure to look at. His work makes me smile and the best piece in my opinion was his interpretation of Leonardo's Mona Lisa. It’s hilarious!

Museo Arquelògico, Museo de Arte Colonial, Museo de Arte Moderno de Bogotà, Museo Nacional...I saw 'em all! It was very interesting to see that the Museo Nacional had just opened their latest temporary exhibition whilst I was there and was the latest big attraction. You can imagine my surprise when I discovered that the Terracotta Warriors from China were on tour and being exhibited right here in the capital of Colombia - parts of the exact same exhibition I saw in Xían, I couldn't believe it!


South of Bogotà by night

So now, it’s finally time to tear myself away from the city and continue north as I come close to the end of an exceedingly long trip. With some helpful travel tips and advice from the guys I think I have finally decided how I would like to end my 16 month adventure. Unfortunately, it doesn’t include Ali…

The Amazon

Typical houses along the Amazon river

The day started out as a fairly relaxing one. Ali and I did what we needed to do and prepared for our 2-day cruise up the Amazon river to Leticia. We bought water, snacks and most importantly, insect repellent. Because the boat didn’t leave until 7:00 pm we even had enough time to squeeze in a film on TV. Our hostel was well equipped with a kitchen, TV room, and an unsettling amount of stuffed animals and stretched skins including various snakes and even a black cayman. In fact, there wasn’t a single square inch of the place that didn’t play homage to the fact that we were close to the jungle. Two black cats and a parrot (un-caged) were free to wander around the wood clad walls of the ground level and greet the guests as they arrived. Our first encounter with the parrot was an unexpected one as we had already been in the kitchen for 15 minutes when I realised that there was a huge brightly coloured parrot sitting on top of the door quietly observing our presence - seemingly with a look of malignance. It spoke when spoken to but we soon discovered it was better not to. Once it started squarking and saying hello, there was no stopping it.

At 5:00 pm Gerard returned from his tour to find us ready and waiting. We had arranged to meet up here in Iquitos when we last saw him in Lima before he left. Gerard flew across just before us so that he could enjoy a trip through the jungle. We took separate tuk tuks to the port so that Ali and I could purchase hammocks enroute. As our 3-wheeled vehicle turned off the main road and onto a dirt lane I was both shocked and horrified by what I saw. Both sides of the street were lined with shanty-like huts on stilts above litter strewn marshland. It was complete chaos and we were one of about a hundred or so tuk tuks attempting to drive straight through this long stretch of filth and mess. It was certainly a real eye-opening experience and left me quite speechless. But unfortunately, the events that followed not only denied speech but also my personal belongings…

The view as we left the dirt lane and entered the muddy river bank was equally if not more shocking. There must have been a thousand people on the riverside hauling luggage, selling food and climbing onto one of 30 or so large boats that lined the banks of the river. We boarded the boat where Gerard could be seen waving his hands and shouting at us from one of the decks above. We walked across the mud and onto the long plank of wood which led to the front of the boat. It was absolute carnage onboard, slightly verging on inhumane. There were 3-levels on the vessel and thankfully we were located on the airy third floor. Our level was the same as the second in the sense that it was a vast open space jam-packed with hammocks strung here there and everywhere. The only way to get from one end to the other was to crawl beneath them. In addition to the unnerving amounts of passengers there was a never-ending circulation of people selling last-minute food stuffs and forgotten items like hammock straps (of which we did forget) and toilet paper. It was one of those people who stole my bag.


The banks of the river

It wasn’t until I went to move them into a better position when I realised that my small bag was missing. I immediately forced my way through the crowds of people and clambered off the boat in search of my bright red bag. But the second I stepped foot onto the embankment I knew it was pointless. The mass of crowds made it impossible to locate. My bag was lost forever - passport, credit cards, flight tickets, journal and my favorite pair of boxer shorts - all gone for good!

When I returned to the boat I was approached by another traveler, a girl from Germany who informed me that her friend witnessed the incident and recognized one of the culprits. We interrogated the boy before going straight to the captain of the ship who then proceeded to start slapping him in the face. I immediately intervened by asking for the police to deal with the matter more professionally. Several minutes later a policeman arrived, handcuffed the youngster then asked me and the German girl to follow him to the police station. At this point we held the attention of almost every single person on the riverbank and I barely managed to follow the officer through the crowds. People were shouting at the boy and asking me questions I didn’t understand. It was an extremely unnerving experience and I wondered how exactly this whole saga was going to end.

The policeman located a tuk tuk and handcuffed the boy to the frame. The German girl and I were asked to sit next to him by the officer who then instructed the driver to take us to the station. The policeman followed on his motorbike. 10 minutes later we arrived at the station where I was subjected to 3 hours of torture as I watched the policeman sit behind his desk and attempt to type up a report. “Tap…tap…tap,” it was so painful. I watched 3 police officers type the same report three times on antique typewriters before I was finally handed my copy and left with the German girl. The boat was due to leave five minutes ago but we were confident that the boat would be waiting for our return. We were wrong! It was dark by the time we arrived back to the port but we knew exactly where our boat was situated. Except when we got there, it was sailing away. The German girl and I looked at each other in despair and ran alongside the river for whatever good it might have done.

For reasons unknown the boat did actually return to pick us up along with a whole load of other passengers eager to get onboard. It seemed they had also been left behind and where equally in a state of panic. I’m sure that if it wasn’t for them, we probably wouldn’t have been noticed and therefore would have had to stay in Iquitos another 4 days until the next departure for Laticia. When I got back onboard the boat Gerard had some good news for me. The bag had been returned during my absence with everything still inside. Well, everything except my wallet that is, but I was so exhausted and relieved by the fact that I still had my passport, credit cards and flight tickets that I didn’t care about the money. After all the commotion I wanted nothing more than to try and enjoy our trip. When my nerves had finally settled and I was resting in my hammock it suddenly occurred to me that today was no ordinary day. With 4 hours of 06/06/06 still remaining, I hoped nothing else was in store for me on such an evil day.


A lazy shot taken from my hammock


There was nothing much to do really except...

Iquitos

One of the things I love about flying from one place to another is that you get to appreciate the change. The dramatic shift in environment and culture hits you much harder than if entered by land and usually takes a while to adjust. In my view, this is one of the best feelings you can obtain from traveling. The buzz of excitement from seeing new sights makes me feel so alive and this was definitely one of those moments.

The minute we stepped off the plane I was hit with a renewed sense of adventure. I’m not just talking about that excited feeling you get upon arrival at an airport, this was something different. It was the smell of damp hot air and change in flora which made me realise that we had entered not just a warmer climate, but a whole new world to explore. The instant we walked out of the airport terminal we were met with a ton of people shouting and waving their hands at us behind railings. A security guard had to restrain the crowd and push people out of the way just to let us walk through. It was almost as if they had mistaken us for being famous. I looked at Ali and asked “do you know these people?”. The mass of tuk tuk drivers and “jungle guides” were desperate for business and considering Ali and I were the only westerners on board the small plane, we were valuable victims. They practically tripped over themselves for the opportunity to take us wherever we needed to be and I figured the only way to deal with such a situation was to fix my eyes on the nicest looking man and agree to go with him.

The roads were wet from the recent downpour with puddles everywhere, but there was still lots of activity to be savored. Children ran around in their shorts and bare feet along the muddy un-surfaced streets. There was political graffiti on almost every wall and disused buildings were in complete disrepair. Women happily went about their business selling food on the side of the street and mechanics lay one their back fixing broken tuk tuks. Their skin was so black and flawless. Everything was so different. Lima seemed to be a million miles away and as we continued to enjoy our crazy ride into town from the airport, I couldn’t help but laugh as we overtook the other tuk tuks - it was complete mayhem! My eyes watered with pressure and Ali’s hair flew all over the place as our flimsy vehicle raced down the main road. I remember not being able to stop smiling. Our tuk tuk sped along the road so fast it almost tipped over when the driver tried to avoid crashing into a car in front of us. We were one of about a thousand other motorbikey-car-things on the road and the whole experience reminded me of Wacky Races, a cartoon where characters race each other in funny vehicles and get into all kinds of mischief along the way. I’m not sure what was to blame for my ecstatic heightened state of awareness - maybe it was the fact that I hadn’t realized how mundane and boring the past couple of days had been. Or maybe it was simply just the adrenaline rush, compliments of our driver.

Lima

The beautiful Plaza Armas

We arrived in Lima just as planned. Having only four weeks left before Ali and I go our separate ways, we thought now would be a good time to iron out our itinerary for the remainder of our travels in South America. We booked our flights to Iquitos for the 5th of June which left us with a good amount of time to explore the capital before heading further north into Colombia.

I experienced acute culture shock when we first arrived here in Miraflores. I wasn’t expecting such a western-like civilization with all the standard luxuries like shopping malls, posh bars, and even the odd Starbucks dotted here and there. Miraflores is a suburb north of the city and is slightly more developed and up-market than the rest of Lima. I see it as a sort of sub-city for the wealthy. Our hostel is located on one of the main arterial roads that run through the suburb and the instant you step out onto the street you are surrounded by a hive of activity. This rush of excitement, after spending a long period of time in small cities and rural plains, was very shortly followed by an immense feeling of anguish. It seems the less time I spend in such developed places the more I appreciate the smaller, fewer things in life. In a way, it almost feels like too much of what we have in the west is sinful. I’m not turning into a hippie or anything like that (I can assure you it won’t take me long to adjust once I return to my normal lifestyle), but I can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable about our culture. I know its all relative and maybe I’ve just acquired a different level of appreciation for what I have, but it just doesn’t seem fair. I should probably change the subject now. Good coffee makes me ramble and apparently this stuff is great! I’m drinking 100% Arabica from Villa Rica in Peru.

So, with only four days to go before the big election there is an evident buzz around the city which can’t be ignored. The front page of every newspaper is dominated with images of both candidates for presidency and has long been the topic of discussion. The Peruvians certainly don’t mind being asked about their preference and so Ali and I have enjoyed listening to the various opinions of locals as we travel throughout the country. There are two candidates for presidency; a crazy military man who wants to shoot homosexuals and evict half the law-abiding population (just because they may not be entirely of Peruvian origin) and a past president who was convicted of stealing ridiculous amounts of money from the government (but has since apologized and promised not to make the same mistake again). Not surprisingly, half the people we asked said they weren’t going to vote for either.


One of the few interesting buildings in Lima

Downtown Lima had its nice parts but the majority of our time here has been pretty neutral. The Plaza Armas (which, in case you’re wondering, ‘armas’ means ‘mayor’ and the square is where the government building is situated. Hence the reason why there is a Plaza Armas in almost every big city in South America) is one of the nicest places to linger in the city as the whole square is surrounded by a mish mash of architecture from various different periods and is very well landscaped. However, it’s fair to say that the rest of the city is fairly drab by comparison. Several other squares are dotted throughout the city which are pleasant but in order to get to them you have to walk along very uninspiring streets lined with unattractive buildings. In Miraflores Ali and I took advantage of the cheap movie theatre which was located directly across the street from our hostel and watched The DaVinci Code. The movie was in English with Spanish subtitles and we both really enjoyed it (except Ali wasn’t happy about the fact that they didn’t have sweet popcorn). I think the best part of our time here in Lima was the really nice Japanese-Peruvian restaurant we had the pleasure of visiting on our first night. It was a small place with a very comfortable modern interior. We ate very well for less than $9 which included sushi, tempura, huge maki rolls and an interesting martini called “Kamikaze” (they just so happened to be 2 for 1 on Thursday’s so we couldn’t resist). The food was great and probably the cheapest sushi we’ve ever had.

As you might have guessed, as usual I’m sitting in a café drinking coffee and scribbling down my final thoughts. Ali is back at the hostel chilling out and preparing for our departure on Monday morning. We are flying to Iquitos to meet our friend Gerard for a boat trip up the Amazon and want to make sure we have everything we need. We started taking our Malaria tablets a couple of days ago (just in case) and I have made contact with a friend in Bogota so that we will have a place to stay when we get there. I think I’m ready to leave Lima now and am looking forward to a change in scenery. Well, it’s Saturday night. Maybe a few drinks are in order. “La cuenta por favor.”