You are on a bus. Not a modern bus with new innovations like suspension, but one with a lot in common with a WW1 tank. Old is too new a word. Batterd to the point where you can't imagine it ever being new.
Cold rain is pelting down outside. You are sitting next to the door, or you would be if there was a door, but there is merely a gap in the side of the bus through which rain is now pouring. Your trousers are soaked, and you wished you had put on boots this morning instead of open sandals as your feet are now freezing, but it was sweltering on the way to the bus station- now you are in the mountains.
Next to you there is a young girl, with a baby, and all around stand local people (there are no other foreigners on the bus - they are in short supply here) with unlikely amounts of luggage - at least you have a seat. The road is a dirt track consisting of a series of potholes sewn together by ridges, grooves and cracks.
Your body is being shaken into numbness and your breakfast of eggs and rice (again!), despite only being given a one way ticket, is climbing from your stomach to get a look out of the window at the vistas that would be before you if you weren´t encased in cloud, its crampons seemingly digging in your throat as it scales its way up. At least an hour of the journey has already passed and there is only a further five to go.
The driver is equipped (as they all are) with an extra large bladder to avoid him having to stop; the comfort of the passengers is hardly his concern. He swerves the bus round each bend challenging the single track to grip the sliding hunk of junk and keep it on this most single of tracks.
Suddenly the rain stops and you are transported to a magical world of deep gorges carved from high mountains by what from this height look like no more than tiny streams. As the sun beats down it reveals the texture of the mountains - slashed with the scars of tiny rivers. Some peaks are covered in trees, other bare apart from a covering of velvet in stunning shades of green. It´s wonderful, more than you could have imagined.
A couple of hours later, long after my breakfast had returned to base camp, the almost endless wonderment is interupted by a schreeching halt, this time not a head on encounter with a bus or truck going the opposite way, but a god given stop for a piss ... and food. All it is wise to consume is a thin soup, which after finding unexpectedly sweet, I discover is made from sugar cane and water - and it is accompanied by a large slab of semi-soft cheese which you are supposed to dip in it.
As soon as the bus drivers spoon hits an empty bowl we are chasing him back to the bus lest we be permanently separated from our luggage, and soon pounding the road again, sitting like chickens on a spit in the roasting sunshine.
Not long after we are confronted a roadblock manned by teenagers bristling with assault rifles, and grenades attached to their tunics. Thankfully it is an army checkpoint. . We debus and all the men are frisked all over, including the groin (fully clothed I should mention, this is not a ´tackle out´ occasion) and baggage searched.
All of this is nothing out of the ordinary. This is Colombia.
Is it dangerous here? Well nowhere near as bad as the press and government advice would have you believe. Sure, there is always the chance of being mugged or even kidnapped, but the place is swarming with military and police, and you take all the precautions you can. And anyway if you had come all this way, and found out that it was really perfectly safe, then you would be really pissed off!
Since the beginning of December when I left Galapagos Islands I have spent a week in Banos in Ecuador trying to learn more Spanish, and then following a brief stop to visit a indiginous market, headed north tothe Colombian border. I crossed after dark (well I had to do something to make it more interesting) and have wound my way up to Bogota, all by bus - there are no trains here.
High points
- Not been mugged yet.
- Not been robbed yet.
- Not been kidnapped yet.
- Not been shot yet.
I reserve the right to retract any, or all, of these foolish statements, at a later date.
- The scenery so far (inn the south west of Colombia) has been breathtaking - and I have spent many hours on buses in the past week and a half, plus four days in the mountains. The rock here is soft and hence there are very deep and steep gorges, surrounding jagged peaks. The roads are usually carved into the rock along the sides of the gorges providing excellent views.
- San Augustin - Remains of a lost culture up to 5,500 years old. There are hundereds of statues (some like totem poles, others like a childs drawing), from half metre to 4 mertres high carved out of stone and to guard the graves of the dead and to worship them. All statues were buried underground to save them when the Incas conquered the civilisation probably in about 1450 AD. Powerful symbols of an advanced civilisation with some evidence (although in my mind not conclusive, but then I am 'septic') that they had links with Egypt and India.
- Tierradentro - A similar but different civilisation carved out underground tombs in solid rock to store the remains of the most important people. They are up to 3m high, and 5m radius (semicircular in area) with the entrance about 6m deep accessed by steps carved down into the rock.
- The indiginous market in Sasquisili, Ecuador. I arrived early and was the only non-indiginous person around for a while. To my delight they sold nothing I could buy, apart from traditional pastries and fruit. I could have bought 30 kg of carrots for US$5 (3 British pounds), or a llama, but I didn´t enter negotiations on that one. All the people were wearing their usual dress, the women in bowler hats and colourful skirts and socks. The men struggle (ie dont do) with the traditional dress although some manage to wear a hat.
- As there is a shortage of guerillas to fight here in Colombia (they have retreated to the mountains) the main function of the police (apart from standing around trying to look threatening) is to maintain a large crib right outside the police station and stick as many figures on it as possible (almost everyone is catholic here). The records so far for plastic sheep in a crib outside a police station, is 70, plus all the attendent, shepherds, kings, donkeys etc.
- The lack of foreigners in Colombia - usually this is a good thing, but it does have drawbacks like being stared at by the locals and if a group is required to hire a jeep for the day then you either have to wait a few days to get enough people or miss out.
Low Points
- Homework! Never thought I would ever do it again, but it crops up a lot when learning spanish. Four hours of brain numbing conversation and learning about the structure, followed by Homework! in the afternoon.
- The Xmas decorations are exactly the same as at home. Snowflakakes, snowmen, icicles etc... And this is the equator! I came all this way to get away from that.
- Bus rides. Up to 11 hours a day on some bouncy roads does not endear buses to me. Loads more to come though - maybe the roads will be better if I dont go to such remote places. Oddly enough it is always the locals that throw up. This may be gods way of telling them to build better roads!
- Watching Colombian football on TV. It is constantly being interupted by adverts ( about 10secs every minute) where the bottom third of the screen is taken over by an advert and the commentry is cut to allow the advertisers to annoy you. This is random so if a goal is being scored at that moment - tough. I haven´t watched much football here.....
Next it if off to Venezula ... after Xmas.
Feliz Navidad y neuve ano (Happy Xmas and New year) from Bogota.
Luv
Pete
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