Ali's travel tales

I thought my instructions to the class were cystal clear.
- In celebration of "love and friendship day", write a letter to send to a friend, and decorate it with pictures.

It was only when I was handed a big "M" on an A4 page surrounded by pictures, followed by an over-sized "F", that I realised that my instruction to write "a letter" had been taken quite literally.

volcano

I was a little taken aback when "la costeña", our bus, instructed us that we had arrived at the volcano. It was rather less than hilly, never mind volcanous territory. Dan likened it to a parched east anglia, although I dont think there's cacti in east anglia. In the background glistens a shallow lake. In the foreground, peeking above the scrub, looms the ''volcano.'' It was more of a molehill, with a rickety wooden staircase.

The volcano contained mud about 50m deep, and was the result of natural gases emitted by decaying organic matter underground-pushing the mud upward.

Floating in the thick roiling pool of gray ooze was the most bizarre sensation. Some locals approached us and surpised us by giving us a rigorous massage.

45 minutes of buoying later we were lead down to be washed in the nearby cienaga. Local women took our hands, leading us through ambiguous floating greenery to the lake. They showered us by scooping up the water with plastic bowls. Minutes later, Heather turned to me and in a rather bewildered tone said "oh god, shes taking off my bikini". Soon, all four of us were unwittingly skinny-dipping.

saw this and thought of you...

Miss you bex!

Party on wheels

Take a bus, rip out the sides, cram in more people than conceivably possible, add some aguardiente, and live band... It's a chiva!!!
Chiva's are basically parties on wheels, which stop off at the best local clubs and bars. My definition of fun.

Luckas "the party's on the bus!"

Chivas are elaborately painted buses (each one is different), that were originally used for countryside transport. You can just make out ours in the background of this photo.

On a chiva, there are several physical challenges:
- not to fall out of the side
- drink whilst in motion
- get on the roof
- dance on the roof
-get down after dancing on the roof

because they don't do postcards...

(Marvel at Dan's photography skills! thats my sillhouette in the sunset photo!)

Parque de tayrona is an enormous national park, with miles of unspoilt Caribbean beaches. However, between the park entrance and the said beaches, is an almost impenetrable tangled mass of tropical vegetation, otherwise known as Colombian jungle. In true south American style, we embarked on our drive late afternoon, meaning it was pitch black by the time we reached the park entrance. To add insult to injury, there was stormy rain and dramatic lightning, so the ground beneath us was a bog. A tropical bog. So we arduously advanced into the thicket in pitch black darkness, with only the guiding light of 2 mobile phones and a torch the size of a pencil. Yet our path was illuminated by the vision of perfect beaches.

Ian was having particular difficulty edging through the Colombian jungle, as he had made the unwise decision to wear flip-flops. He remedied this slightly by wearing plastic supermarket carrier bags over his feet- he was slipping in every direction. I imagine the scene would be similar if a giraffe was pushed out onto an ice rink.

Every guide described the route to our beach as safe, but this word was always coupled with the disconcerting word “relatively”. Hmm perhaps embarking on this journey at night was not our most wise decision. Eventually, we hit sand. Waking up in a hammock, slowly swaying in the breeze from the Caribbean sea, looking up onto palm trees and clear blue sky made the whole jaunt entirely worth it.

On the trek back, we noticed handy footbridges to avoid the bog we had unwittingly waded through.
Upon my return, I was telling my host mother about the trip (in spanish). My vocabulary didn’t stretch to the word “sunburn”, so I just said “pain” and pointed to my shoulder (the affected area). She then sprung up, in a “I have just the thing” manner, twirled me round and started rubbing cream into my shoulder. She mistook me, thinking I had muscle pain from sleeping in a hammock she had smothered me in “Deep Heat”.

Hello.

Sunburn and deep heat, I thought I had spontaneously combust!

cleansing the soul

One of the more bizarre activities we partook in in Medellin was our moonlight visit to the Japanese-inspired “barefoot park”, located at the foot of a building named "the intelligent building", although I am unsure of how a building can be intelligent.
In the park, a man dressed like Steve Irwin and armed with a megaphone (somewhat disturbing the Zen) instructed us to take off our shoes. The group was then lead barefoot through a series of paths with textures ranging from razor-sharp pebbles and bark to sand, grass and finally water – with occasional stops to rub our faces, lie on the floor, hum and bond with mother earth. The phrase “open your soul” was employed at one point. Not sure about that soul, but the soles of my feet were certainly opened, by walking barefoot over sharp “pieces of nature”.

Rubbing our hands together to create the cosmic energy.
Or something.

buses

The buses themselves are never in good shape to start with. Add this to the formula of roads littered with potholes, a driving technique that I had previously only ever whitnessed in video games, and interior decoration akin to that of a fortune tellers caravan, and the result is just a regular bus ride here.
The bus station in Medellin displays bus-related death and injury statistics per quarter split by bus operator.
To get to Medellin, we took an overnight bus. It hurtled round windy mountain roads at an average pace of 90mph, on tarmac of questionable quality. I found it rather challenging to eat my yoghurt- anyone who has tried to eat liquid food in an earthquake in the middle of the night may sympathise right now. I wont even begin to talk about the challenge posed by the toilet...

signs

"The sticky, still air is frequently refreshed by torrential rains which invariably turn most of the streets into rushing rivers, washing out litter, people and cars alike"