The end of Colombia

Tomorrow I fly to Peru. Today I am in Bogota. On Thursday I was in the Caribbean in Cartagena. Taking planes to places when you're used to the bus is strange, as I can't believe I've managed to cover so much distance in so little time.

So, Colombia. It's been a brilliant couple of weeks, in an amazing country with amazing travel buddies and lots of fun and sunshine. It's very cool in South American traveller world to love Colombia right now, but I honestly think that I would still love it even if no one else did.

I went diving again whilst up in Taganga, and I'm so glad I did. The two fun dives I did were the first I'd done since taking my Open Water in Thailand, and I'd forgotten just how amazing it feels to be in the water. I thought that would be the last diving opportunity I would have on this trip, but happily I have found out that I can also dive in Brazil.

After our extended beach time in Taganga, the travel buddie group splintered off, with the boys going off to do the 6 day Lost City trek, Carina staying in Taganga and Jayne and I heading for Cartagena.

Cartagena is beautiful, but it's basically Europe. It's a perfectly preserved colonial city of cobbled winding streets and churches, which is scarily similar to bits of Barcelona's old town, the South of France and, most strikingly, Dubrovnik. It's very hot, and not really a party place, so lots of people were speeding through, but little occasionally-homesick-for-Europe me really enjoyed the time I spent there.

I indulged myself slightly by choosing to fly from Cartagena to Bogota instead of taking a 20 hour bus. Flying was more expensive, but only by 30USD, and I got there in 1 and a half hours! Going on planes makes me so excited - I'm even excited about tomorrow's flight. It's almost a shame that I'm that I'm too clever and ambitious to be an air hostess, huh?

Bogota is cool, in both senses of the word. As the capital, it's edgier, more fashionable and more noticeably gay than anywhere else here. It's quite a change from the beautiful but plastic WAG wannabes of Medellin, or the rastafied residents of the Caribbean. I like it, but I think I would like it more if I wasn't so damn cold - it's only 15 degrees for heaven's sake! I am dreading the genuine cold of the Andes, without even thinking of the cold of England in November. Whoever meets me at the airport is going to have to bring thermals and a big duvet coat...

Colombia. It´s really nothing like you think it is.

I´ve now been here in sunny Colombia for over a week, so apologies for neglecting the blog. Sometimes it feels like a real obligation to write rather than something I have a choice in.

In my week, I´ve crossed the border from Ecuador, spent a weekend in Cali, did some mid week resting on a coffee plantation, then spent last weekend in Medellin before boarding a very long night bus all the way up to the Caribbean coast at Taganga, where I am now.

The one thing that has marked all my experiences in all these different places? How utterly different Colombia is to how it is portrayed to the outside world. I haven´t felt this safe since I´ve been in Japan, I haven´t met people this genuinely friendly since I don´t know when, and I haven´t seen this level of clean, developed cities since, er, Tokyo.

If I were a Colombian, I would be constantly annoyed at people presuming I´m a drug trafficker or guerrilla, or that any visitor here will get kidnapped. I highly advise every single person I know to come here - the cities are safe, the nightlife is *amazing*, the people always smile, the buses are better than anything on the trip so far, the beaches are beautiful, and we have a beachfront room with amazing views for 10USD each.

Wonderful British Airways have helped me out again, and I have added 2 new flights to my itinerary. I´m flying from Bogota to Lima in about 2 weeks, saving myself 4 days on a bus or 350USD on buying the flight properly. I therefore have 2 weeks of Caribbean, and don´t have to take a bus journey of more than 3 hours for the whole time! I cannot remember how long it has been since I´ve been able to say that.

One final hello to my lovely yet swine flu stricken friends in East London - I honestly thought it would be me getting it not you, hope you´re all ok.

Reading material

So that I will remember, and so that you can all see how much reading I've been doing, these are the books that I've read since being in Las Vegas with the kids back in May:

Bonfire of the Vanities - Tom Wolfe. Brilliant, but made me feel guilty about being on Sherman McCoy's side throughout.
Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck. Short, edifying.
Man and Boy - Tony Parsons. Triste.
The Boys from Brazil - can't remember the author, given to me for free by another traveller as it was in such a state no one would take it in exchange. Jewish.
The Other Hand - Chris Cleave. Read it! So good.
Sex and the City - Candace Bushnell. Pickings were thin in Bocas del Toro.
Still Alice - Lisa Genova. An American book about Alzheimers. Muy depressing, read it in 4 hours.
A chicklit bit of rubbish whose title I can't even remember now
44 Scotland Street - Alexander McCall Smith. Comforting, too easy to read.
Cityboy - Geraint Anderson, of Londonpaper column fame. Depressing on far too many levels.
The Mosquito Coast - Paul Theroux. Read if you skipped Honduras and are looking for reasurance on your decision.
Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh. Finished this morning, love love loved it. Lots of interesting things to say about Catholicism.
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius - Dave Eggers. 2 pages in.

Higher than I've ever been before

Somehow I have managed to be in Ecuador for a whole week already, when I'd only planned to go through it on my way to Colombia, and yet I think I will end up here for another week after this one. There is rather a lot to do here, y'see.

On flying into Quito, I'd intended to spend 2 nights there then leave, but a combination of altitude sickness and liking it meant that I stayed 4 nights. In the way that these things often work out, I did a pub quiz on my 4th unintended night there. My team and I embarrassed the competition and won hands down, aided by my faultless ability to Name that Tune, and the fact that one of my team mates was an MIT post doc. The rather generous prize was a bottle of Ecuadorian rum and a free night at a retreat up in the mountains near Cotopaxi. My 3 other team mates couldn't make it, so I claimed it as mine, and swiftly packed for a weekend in the mountains.

Cotopaxi is the highest volcano in Ecuador, and is the nearest point on Earth to the sun. That was one of our quiz questions, incidentally... Anyway, it's technically only 2 hours from Quito but in every other way it's a million miles away: the hostal had almost no electricity and no internet, and was a 1h30 drive along dirt road from the nearest town. It's run sustainably, so grew all it's own vegetables, and had eco toilets and solar panels powering the generator. The view from my room took in Cotopaxi in the distance, with nothing but sheep and cows between me and it. We had 3 meals a day prepared for us, and the rest of the time could sit in front of the fire drinking tea and reading.

I hadn't intended to do any of the crazy adrenal fuelled activities that people go to Cotopaxi for, but for reasons I can't quite explain I ended up signing up for the mountain biking down a volcano and the 5,000 metre hike up Cotopaxi - one each morning. Frankly, I am indescribably happy that I did. I was a long way out of my comfort zone on both: neither the brakes nor the gears really worked on my bike so I was careering down the side of a volcano unable to stop, and the altitude on the hike up Cotopaxi made me feel like I'd ran a marathon, but the pain was definitely worth it. I think my time spent there has fundamentally changed me: it had been so long since I'd taken any exercise that I'd forgotten how good the post sport feeling is, and I'm now intent on doing lots more. Anyone fancy climbing Kilimanjaro when I get back? It's only 5,895 metres, so I've done most of it...

I'm really enjoying travelling on my own at the moment - I've met lots of lovely people, but I'm way past the need to meet people just for the sake of it. I'm happy speaking Spanish and making my own way around, meeting people in the evenings and having a beer and a chat then leaving them and going off on my own the next day.

Goodbye Central America

This is written from high up in the Andes, in Quito, but I shall try to imagine myself back at sea level in the Caribbean in order to tell you about my time in the San Blas archipelago of Panama.

For a variety of reasons alluded to in the last post, plus the fact that most of my favourite people all went to see Blur in Hyde Park on Friday, leaving civilisation for a while and going to a deserted island without electricity, phones, internet or indeed anything else seemed like a really good idea. Bref, I was right. You often don´t realise how much you need to spend a few days reading, sleeping in hammocks, sunbathing and swimming until that´s what you´re doing.

San Blas is a group of islands, which form part of an autonomous area of Panama ruled by the Kuna people. They have their own tribal way of deciding things, a very distinctive way of dressing, and a very indigenous way of seeing the world. They are the only people allowed to own property and run businesses in San Blas, meaning that it may be just about the only Caribbean paradise that will never be overrun with resort hotels and Americans. Kuna women have short, Western style hair, which is cut when they turn 13 or 14 to signify that they are now women and can marry, so they look markedly different to everyone else in Panama and indeed Central America, as short hair is a rare thing around these parts. The children don´t speak Spanish, and although there is a school on a nearby island, they don´t go often, as according to one mother, 'it´s a bit far and no one sees the point'. They are incredibly poor, incredibly welcoming and incredibly religious.

I stayed on an island called Naranjo Chico to the locals (population about 20), but Robinson Island to tourists, for the simple reason that the basic huts we stayed in were owned by a local called Robinson. For 20USD a day, we got to stay in bamboo huts right on the beach and have 3 meals per day cooked for us. Aside from the tiny shop that sold beer, Coca Cola and rum, there was literally nothing else to spend money on. Going to the toilet involved walking along a plank to a makeshift wooden hut suspended over the sea, and showering involved scooping water from a tub that was left out to collect rainwater. My days were spent hanging out, having long conversations with the Chilean couple and French girl that were my island companions for the first few days until the inevitable group of 25 partying Israelis turned up on my last day and drowned everyone out by shouting in Hebrew and being rude to the locals. Poor Israelis - so nice alone, so awful in big groups.

Whilst there, I was woken up at 5am by my second Central American earthquake. It wasn´t a very big one, and was actually pretty fun. I went outside of my little hut and saw all the locals running around touching everything and making their children run into the sea. Apparently they believe that the earth is held up by a man, and earthquakes happen when he gets tired and passes the earth from one hand to another. After a quake, they have to touch everything they own to make sure that its soul hasn´t fallen into the abyss. The next day none of the locals went into the sea, as they believed that the earthquake had woken up all the evil beasts that live there, and they had to wait for them to go back to sleep before they could swim again.

After 3 days my impending flight required me to leave, although I could have happily stayed longer. And now my Central American time is over - goodbye awful food and endless mosquitoes, I enjoyed my time with you but right now all I can think about is South America! In my 4 months, you can expect me to visit everywhere, except Venezuela and the 3 little Guyanas. Exciting!

The first instances of travel fatigue

I don't know why I haven't written for so long - I'm 3 whole countries further south now, have surfed, then bussed for a long time, and had myself a few more days in the Caribbean.

This is written from Panama City, where I arrived at 5am this morning. I've been looking forward to being in a proper city for weeks, and had been anticipating today as an air conditioned shopping and coffee day, with perhaps a visit to an art gallery. My bubble has been completely burst, as today is the Panamanian president's birthday or something, and absolutely everything is shut. It's only 10.30 and I have no idea what to do with my day. I am so bored! It doesn't help that I was bored out of my mind in a town called Boquete yesterday, where it rained all afternoon and there was literally nothing to do except read the badly written book I picked up at the beach.

Generally, as objectively great as everything is, I'm starting to get travel fatigue. I'm bored of meeting travellers and having the same 'where are you coming from, where are you going' conversations. I'm bored of only meeting people under 25 (what is it about Central America and gap years?), bored of constantly moving, but bored if I stay in the same place more than 3 days, bored of Central America's tasteless food and absence of culture that isn't desperately trying to become the United States...

It really must be time to change continents!

18 hours and 4 countries later

Spending one week in Belize and two in Guatemala when I only have 5 in Central America was always going to mean lots of long distance bus journeys at some point. That point is now. I write from Granada, in Nicaragua. To get here, I left Antigua, in Guatemala, at 4am, getting to Guatemala City for my 6.30am bus to San Salvador, in El Salvador, where I changed to the 12pm bus to Managua, in Nicaragua. As any of you with a world map will see, going from El Salvador to Nicaragua also means going through Honduras. That´s 3 whole border crossings in one day, and believe me, with corrupt officials that bribe westerners entering countries, and nurses that check you for swine flu, it´s not a whole lot of fun.

The bus was quite empty, and I was the only tourist on it until some others joined in Honduras. I chatted to a Nicaraguan girl (she can´t have been more than 21 yet had her 7 year old son with her) for most of the journey when I wasn´t watching Zoolander on my iTouch or sleeping. She was amazed that I was a) 30 b) not married and c) childless. The look of utter pity on her face when I told her I didn´t have children yet was a sight to behold!

Bus journeys of this sort are a rare opportunity to actually meet locals. The problem with Central America is that the capital cities, where the young, cool people are who would want to talk to backpackers and have some interest in us besides our money, are horrible places that you just can´t spend any time in, so we´re stuck in beautiful tourist towns and isolated beach or lakeside villages with amazing scenery but few locals. It´s not something that bothers me unduly right now, as South America beckons so soon, but it did get me thinking. I´ve met lots of female solo travellers that will happily talk to and go for a drink with local males on their own, with no intention of letting anything happen other than having a nice chat and practicing their Spanish, and they´ve all been fine, but for some reason doing that holds absolutely no appeal for me. I just can´t be bothered spending my time explaining where my boyfriend is and making things up in order to have a conversation. Machismo really does rule the world!

I´m going to the Isla de Ometepe tomorrow for a couple of days, and would be very surprised if there´s anything more than the most basic internet access available there, so probably no updates for a little while...