As our time working on the farm came to an end we really begun to feel the weight of excitement for what in reality, was the section of the trip we were most looking forward to - Medellin, the Caribbean coast of Colombia, and excitingly, the arrival of Will (my brother).
First stop, well actually quite a few bus stops out from the farm, was Medellin, a city once better known as Escobar's shooting range. But now, a free and culture drenched city loaded with incredible food spots and hip-snaking salsa pros.
Though I'd had a lot of fun coupling up with Alice for dance lessons on the trip so far, she, in the kindest way she could, made it politely clear how much she'd love a private salsa lesson.
I managed to sneak in halfway through and take a few snaps, but alas, both myself and Will would quickly reap the benefits of Alice's learnings just a few days after this.
We'd managed to keep hold of our Deutche freund Ulla from the farm for a few days, and collectively decided to hit up Guatape, a place I'd come across when doing Pinterest research for Colombia. I won't bore with too much background but essentially a purpose built dam has created a bonkers looking network of lakes, so we were keen to get up there to check out the view, and of course, get out on/in the water somehow.
Medellin and Guatape proved to be everything we'd hoped, but above all, was welcome down time before Will's arrival; two weeks we'd know would be action packed, and fiesta filled.
This grinning mug was a bloody welcome sight on the evening of December 1st, as he bobbed his way through arrivals at Cartagena airport, with what looked to be a backpack with the best part of two t-shirts, trunks and a towel. He's the first of a few to come out and see us on the trip, but of course being family, was a particularly special one.
He'd had two nights of sleepless travel from London, so was pretty KO'd when we got to our hostel at 11pm, so after a couple of swifties in the bar, we hit the hay so we could step up to the plate fresh for day one.
And night one was a monster. We'd started drinking at lunchtime after a mornings stroll around sticky Cartagena, and gently mosied our way through the afternoon sipping Club Colombias (the standout beer of the continent) and catching up over some tunes.
The hostel we were in was pretty social so we'd met quite a few people as the evening begun to draw in, one of which we were avoiding though, was Gollum, our dormitory companion we'd nicknamed because he'd been boshing powder all afternoon and was either climbing the walls of our 8 bed pit, or
doing laps of the hostel pretending he had a purpose.
With Gollum successfully binned at about 10pm, we headed out on the town with 2 Aussies and a yank, and with some of Alice's Salsa moves in our back pockets. The main chunk of the night, or early morning, was spent at a salsa bar with our new amigos, and also, quite randomly, a local father and daughter who'd asked to dance with us. Why not aye.
Dad was very clearly into Alice, but was a very good dancer and it all seemed normal and harmless, and Will and I shared the daughter, who also seemed quite into the two of us. By the time 4am came around, I was co,img to the conclusion that Salsa is probably the closest thing you'll get to intercourse without the down and dirty, so in my eyes, it was a steamy night of leg humping that was somehow on the right side of adultery. In fact, I'd say that on further reflection, Salsa is God's gift to Latinos to tackle that whole 'lead us not into temptation' mallarchy. Western society just got porn, so I reckon
this lot got a much sweeter deal.
The next morning we were due to be leaving the hostel at 8am for a boat we'd booked to our next destination, but Will and Alice, having applaudingly woken up at 7am, couldn't find me anywhere.
For a full hour they searched and shouted throughout the hostel, and near tears, were beginning to think I'd been kidnapped.
I awoke a little after 8am on the toilet and rather hazily waddled my way back to the dorm in my pants, expecting just to go back to bed, and certainly not knowing I'd been asleep on the toilet for however long. Will powered up to me after seeing me from the other end of the communal area, in a state of total panic, and blasphemed at me to see where I'd been. With the Trauma averted though, Will had packed up all my things and within a few minutes we'd be power walking to the pier, hoping
our boat was as late as all our other South American travel typically was. Luckily, the boat was indeed late, so after piecing together the night and a lot of apologies from me, we geared up for a recommended hostel we felt particularly excited about.
Casa en el Agua - a floating hostel an hour from the mainland by speed boat. A place surrounded by crystal clear Caribbean water, an abundance of fish and lobster (: )), flawlessly curated beats, and a righteous amount of Rum and Coconuts to continue the fiesta for another 3 nights.
We slept in hammocks on the upper floor (much more comfortable than you might think, and a rather special way to wake up)...
...spent our days pissing around in the Caribbean...
Like all of the places that would follow here, we could have spent weeks at this hostel. When you reach such a peak when travelling, you ask yourself why you persist to keep seeking better. But time was tocking, and Tayrona national park was knocking, so we saddled up, and said farewell.
Tayrona had been shut throughout November, and a number of other backpackers had said how gutted they were to have missed it. Having heard a lot of good things from those who had caught a glimpse before its shutdown, it felt like we could be in for another stunner, though welcomely, a tad tamer on the sauce front.
We had to walk for about an hour to get to the camp site (there are no hotels or hostels across the park), but among some of the most pristine, palm-studded beaches we've ever seen.
There are still heaps of indigenous people throughout the park, the few of which we came across were shifting Coconuts for a few peso's, which an hour's walk in and a hangover deep, was rather welcome.
Upon arrival at a particularly well tipped beach - Cabo San Juan, we discovered there was the option of sleeping in hammocks up on the above point, which of course we silently established we'd do anything to experience. Being the Brits we are, though we were told to return at 2pm to check if there was space, we sat outside the bookings hut for the 2 hours we'd arrived beforehand, and to our delight, secured three of the last five of the hammocks in the sky. SELECTAAAAA.
We ended up staying 3 nights at Cabo. It was such a beautiful place to chill, and just the place we'd imagined when Google image'ing Colombia before the trip. We mainly flitted hrough our books, freshened up in the warm blue sea every now and again, and explored some of the incredible trails around the park. Here're some more snaps of it all...
Knockout.
Watching a typically high standard of football.
After Tayrona, it was off to an Aussie run joint called Rancho Relaxo (could that be a better marriage of Spanish and Aussie?). We could only manage time for one night here, but used it as a base to go off and do some tubing in Palomino (very unofficial, from the motorbike ride up a dirt track, to floating into a military base down near the mouth of the river). After 4 hours of floating on a tractor inner tube through some mesmerising scenery, and getting pummelled by mosquitoes on the walk back to the highway, we hailed down a bus. We got back mid afternoon and managed to enjoy the 'Eco-pool' and play with their FUDGING-fantastic pet pig.
For our final few days with Will, and with not many more after that for us in Colombia, we shifted to our final stop, Casa Elemento - another highly tipped spot on the backpacker trail, and one I knew from being the number one hostel on some BuzzFeed article I saw before leaving (http://bzfd.it/1mRMkXr), would be some finale.
The hostel is high up beyond the mountain town of Minca, among a thickly vegetated region of steep rolling hills and stunning views. It's famous for its infinity hammocks, which had looked pretty special in photos, and were truly breathtaking in person. We spent our remaining days here doing various activities in the area, from climbing waterfalls to coffee plantation tours; all of which were intertwined with plenty of the local craft beer on that hammock.
And that, guys and dolls, is South America! 3 and a half months that has gone quickly, but hasn't been too frantic. It's a sub-continent of serious cultural contrasts, we've met some incredible people, and ticked off more bucket boxes than we could have imagined. If these photos don't act enough as an advert to come and check it out for yourself, I don't know what is.
Onwards to Mexico. Adidas for now.
Tom & Alice
