Tuesday 11 May
Medellín – Cartagena
It seems that I was always one day behind everyone else. Once again the hostel was pretty much empty as everyone had left the previous day. I checked out in the morning and surfed the web. There was some American guy studying Spanish in Medellín who needed some downloads so using some totally legal means* I helped him out.
I had a burger for dinner. There weren't many options nearby so that had to do. Then I took a taxi to the bus station and waited for my bus. I chose my bus by whichever hawker came up to me first. I don't usually do that but they were all dressed in smart uniforms so I went with it. While waiting in the station I found that they had free wifi - very enlightened. All public wifi should be free internationally. Take notice, Brazil and Heathrow.
As ever, once on the bus it wasn't long before I fell asleep, even though for once I wasn't that tired. My sleeping bag came into use once again as did my leather jacket, protecting me from the violent air conditioning. I was on my way to the coast.
*May not be true.
Tuesday 26 October 2010
One Man’s Freedom Fighter
Monday 10 May
Medellín
I decided I wanted to see some other parts of Medellín apart from the little bit of suburbia where the hostel was, and the Zona Rosa which had the bars. So I headed in to the centre of town.
It was pretty boring, all big concrete buildings of no interest. I was getting hungry so I started looking for food but all I could see were crappy little almuerzo places and hundreds upon hundreds of fried chicken places. It must be like crack for the locals. My sensitive aesthete nature meant I couldn’t bring myself to eat in either of those places. So I kept searching.
Eventually I found a food hall in a small but smart shopping centre and had an almuerzo there. Of course I had no idea what I was actually ordering but it turned out to be fine, and everything seemed to be covered in orange juice or something equivalent. Even the salad dressing. Not the worst thing in the world.
Afterwards I decided to go and see the grave of Medellín’s most famous son – peasant, drug lord, murderer and church builder Pablo Escobar. I went to the tube station and took a taxi. Even though he didn’t speak any English he guessed what I wanted to see and pointed out the grave for me in the cemetery. Which was lucky as I had no idea where it was.
Once there I had to ask the gardener to take a picture for me. The ones I was taking myself weren’t coming out well at all. He even went to wash his hands to take the photo, which was kind of him.
In the taxi on the way back, the driver tried to engage me in conversation. There’s only so many times you can say, “no entiendo. Hablo solo un pocito Español.” Maybe he was telling me that in his life, Pablo Escobar was senator for the Medellín region, one of the top ten richest people in the world, his philosophy of “sliver or lead” – bribery or death, how he was the champion of the people by building schools, churches and hospitals, or how he was responsible for 90% of the cocaine going into America at one time. Maybe not.
Then I ate some pizza.
Medellín
I decided I wanted to see some other parts of Medellín apart from the little bit of suburbia where the hostel was, and the Zona Rosa which had the bars. So I headed in to the centre of town.
It was pretty boring, all big concrete buildings of no interest. I was getting hungry so I started looking for food but all I could see were crappy little almuerzo places and hundreds upon hundreds of fried chicken places. It must be like crack for the locals. My sensitive aesthete nature meant I couldn’t bring myself to eat in either of those places. So I kept searching.
Eventually I found a food hall in a small but smart shopping centre and had an almuerzo there. Of course I had no idea what I was actually ordering but it turned out to be fine, and everything seemed to be covered in orange juice or something equivalent. Even the salad dressing. Not the worst thing in the world.
Afterwards I decided to go and see the grave of Medellín’s most famous son – peasant, drug lord, murderer and church builder Pablo Escobar. I went to the tube station and took a taxi. Even though he didn’t speak any English he guessed what I wanted to see and pointed out the grave for me in the cemetery. Which was lucky as I had no idea where it was.
Once there I had to ask the gardener to take a picture for me. The ones I was taking myself weren’t coming out well at all. He even went to wash his hands to take the photo, which was kind of him.
In the taxi on the way back, the driver tried to engage me in conversation. There’s only so many times you can say, “no entiendo. Hablo solo un pocito Español.” Maybe he was telling me that in his life, Pablo Escobar was senator for the Medellín region, one of the top ten richest people in the world, his philosophy of “sliver or lead” – bribery or death, how he was the champion of the people by building schools, churches and hospitals, or how he was responsible for 90% of the cocaine going into America at one time. Maybe not.
Then I ate some pizza.
And So the Conversation Turned, As the Sun Went Down
Sunday 9 May
Medellín
I watched Doctor Who and Formula One. There was a barbeque at the hostel, so I ate some of that. I met up with the guys who went out clubbing the night before. They were still on it since then. To help with their current state of mind I talked about politics and macroeconomics. There was still an unresolved election taking place so the question on everyone's lips was, "What the fuck happens now?" Cue an explanation of hung parliaments and what it means, as well as a side explanation of what caused the global recession and how to get out of it. Despite this being definitively the most boring subjects in world everyone was gripped for some reason. I put it down to my ability to succinctly encapsulate the key ideas and communicate them in engaging layman's terms.
Of maybe it was the drugs. I think I even expounded on my theories behind why religion exists and the roles it played (explaining the world before science, a sense of morals, power structures, something to believe in). It was a heavy but enjoyable night.
Medellín
I watched Doctor Who and Formula One. There was a barbeque at the hostel, so I ate some of that. I met up with the guys who went out clubbing the night before. They were still on it since then. To help with their current state of mind I talked about politics and macroeconomics. There was still an unresolved election taking place so the question on everyone's lips was, "What the fuck happens now?" Cue an explanation of hung parliaments and what it means, as well as a side explanation of what caused the global recession and how to get out of it. Despite this being definitively the most boring subjects in world everyone was gripped for some reason. I put it down to my ability to succinctly encapsulate the key ideas and communicate them in engaging layman's terms.
Of maybe it was the drugs. I think I even expounded on my theories behind why religion exists and the roles it played (explaining the world before science, a sense of morals, power structures, something to believe in). It was a heavy but enjoyable night.
Tuesday 19 October 2010
Where Were You While We Were Getting High?
Saturday 8 May
Medellín
There aren’t many sights in Medellín. You don’t really come here for the culture. You come for the parties and the hostels. Despite that, there is a newly opened cable car and so I met up with Steve and Lucy from the hostel and we went off to have a look at it. We took the metro that runs along the valley floor shadowing the river that runs through it. The river has been beautifully landscaped into a design that has all the charm and elegance of a storm drain, which is really romantic. The metro is pretty clean and efficient though. We changed at one stop, took one cable car halfway up the mountain, and then took another to the top.
We passed a large, black, strangely shaped building and asked a local what it was. Apparently it was a library. Such strange architecture could only be a public building. I said it looked like a spaceship. Lucy mentioned that it wasn’t very aerodynamic, before I pointed out that there wasn’t any air in space.
Once we were at the top the second cable car kept on going, taking us over a vast forest and into the heart of a national park. Steve said that the forest looked very much like a forest. Nothing gets past that guy!
Once in the national park we decided to go for a bit of a walk and find a waterfall marked on a map. To be honest I wasn’t really up for it as I was a bit tired but I thought I’d give it a go. We think we found it, I wasn’t 100% sure but we did find a waterfall of sorts. It just wasn’t that spectacular. But then, I guess it was never going to be Iguazu.
We decided to go back a different way and promptly got lost. Luckily Steve had a GPS app on his iPhone that had been tracking us from the start, and using that we managed to get back. The wonders of technology, eh?
Back at the hostel I went out for a Mexican with some of the girls. I like Mexicans, but I couldn’t eat a whole one. Then when we came back we were supposed to go out to a club, but I was too tired. I went to bed hoping that I would have a power nap, but tiredness enveloped me like a slightly too thick duvet. Everyone else had an amazing night though. Which was annoying!
One of the things that I’ve noticed from this trip is that as I’m getting older I’m getting more and more tired, and conversely less and less sleep. It’s really frustrating. Part of the problem in Medellín is that I’m on the top bunk which I don’t like, and that it slopes slightly so I feel like I’m falling out all the time. Such is life.
Medellín
There aren’t many sights in Medellín. You don’t really come here for the culture. You come for the parties and the hostels. Despite that, there is a newly opened cable car and so I met up with Steve and Lucy from the hostel and we went off to have a look at it. We took the metro that runs along the valley floor shadowing the river that runs through it. The river has been beautifully landscaped into a design that has all the charm and elegance of a storm drain, which is really romantic. The metro is pretty clean and efficient though. We changed at one stop, took one cable car halfway up the mountain, and then took another to the top.
We passed a large, black, strangely shaped building and asked a local what it was. Apparently it was a library. Such strange architecture could only be a public building. I said it looked like a spaceship. Lucy mentioned that it wasn’t very aerodynamic, before I pointed out that there wasn’t any air in space.
Once we were at the top the second cable car kept on going, taking us over a vast forest and into the heart of a national park. Steve said that the forest looked very much like a forest. Nothing gets past that guy!
Once in the national park we decided to go for a bit of a walk and find a waterfall marked on a map. To be honest I wasn’t really up for it as I was a bit tired but I thought I’d give it a go. We think we found it, I wasn’t 100% sure but we did find a waterfall of sorts. It just wasn’t that spectacular. But then, I guess it was never going to be Iguazu.
We decided to go back a different way and promptly got lost. Luckily Steve had a GPS app on his iPhone that had been tracking us from the start, and using that we managed to get back. The wonders of technology, eh?
Back at the hostel I went out for a Mexican with some of the girls. I like Mexicans, but I couldn’t eat a whole one. Then when we came back we were supposed to go out to a club, but I was too tired. I went to bed hoping that I would have a power nap, but tiredness enveloped me like a slightly too thick duvet. Everyone else had an amazing night though. Which was annoying!
One of the things that I’ve noticed from this trip is that as I’m getting older I’m getting more and more tired, and conversely less and less sleep. It’s really frustrating. Part of the problem in Medellín is that I’m on the top bunk which I don’t like, and that it slopes slightly so I feel like I’m falling out all the time. Such is life.
I Was Born to Be a Dancer
Friday 7 May
Medellín
The area of the hostel I’m staying in is basically nice suburbia, which is quite pleasant, especially in the nice weather. I went to the supermarket to buy some food. It was fairly typical although one strange thing about Colombia is that the fresh milk comes in soft plastic bag containers, which is problematic when you don’t want to use a whole pint at once. Luckily I had some empty water bottles I could use for storage. They also often serve water and juice in similar containers. Crazy Colombians!
The other thing about Colombia and Medellín in particular is the extensive profusion of mullets that the guys have here. “Business at the front, party at the back;” it does look cool after all. Some American guy at the hostel had the misfortune of going to a hairdresser here and coming out looking like a latino. Not sure what all that is about really. You do get mullets elsewhere is South America – one of the Argentineans in Cusco had one after all – but there are whole schools of them here.
In the evening I went for a pizza with Mark and Russell, the Scousers, and then we met up with some girls from the hostel and went to Zona Rosa – disappointingly not the red light district but the bar area of Medellín, only 15 minutes walk from the hostel. When we arrived in one place the heavens opened and it rained like a bitch. We passed the time dancing some salsa which this time I managed to do more successfully with an English girl – so much so we were showing up the locals. Or at least I think that’s what we were doing. It was a bit frisky.
Medellín
The area of the hostel I’m staying in is basically nice suburbia, which is quite pleasant, especially in the nice weather. I went to the supermarket to buy some food. It was fairly typical although one strange thing about Colombia is that the fresh milk comes in soft plastic bag containers, which is problematic when you don’t want to use a whole pint at once. Luckily I had some empty water bottles I could use for storage. They also often serve water and juice in similar containers. Crazy Colombians!
The other thing about Colombia and Medellín in particular is the extensive profusion of mullets that the guys have here. “Business at the front, party at the back;” it does look cool after all. Some American guy at the hostel had the misfortune of going to a hairdresser here and coming out looking like a latino. Not sure what all that is about really. You do get mullets elsewhere is South America – one of the Argentineans in Cusco had one after all – but there are whole schools of them here.
In the evening I went for a pizza with Mark and Russell, the Scousers, and then we met up with some girls from the hostel and went to Zona Rosa – disappointingly not the red light district but the bar area of Medellín, only 15 minutes walk from the hostel. When we arrived in one place the heavens opened and it rained like a bitch. We passed the time dancing some salsa which this time I managed to do more successfully with an English girl – so much so we were showing up the locals. Or at least I think that’s what we were doing. It was a bit frisky.
Vote Saxon
Thursday 6 May
Cali – Medellín
Arriving in Medellín, I caught a cab from the bus station. Despite having a card with the address and even a map on the back, the cab driver still managed to get lost. To be fair, that wasn’t hard given that the streets are like spaghetti, stretched across the sides of various mountains in the Andes. And that both the road and house numbering systems in Colombia are completely mad. For a start, the roads are numbered, but not in any sensible consecutive range. Sure, there might be two roads next to each other that are Calle 8 and Calle 9, but then the next one will be Calle 9a and then Calle 9b. And then when that section ends, Calle 10 will be half way across the city in another district.
And the numbers on the houses make no sense at all. For a start there are two sets of numbers, so a house will be number 8 – 173b. Why? Well clearly the city planners were smoking crack. That’s the most sensible explanation that we can tell. Having said that, the first number seems to be the same for all houses on one street, which immediately renders it irrelevant. So the second number is the real house number. So why the first number? Well there must be some reason, and I bet there’s a Dan Brown novel in it. But I never worked it out.
But perhaps the real reason is that it’s an endemic, elaborate scam so that when foreigners arrive in the country, the taxi drivers have free reign to rip them off by pretending that they’re lost. Although they probably are.
Anyway eventually we found the place and the cab driver was only too happy to take my 10,000 peso note as payment, despite the counter not being above 8,000. Rip offs like that are so common that I couldn’t be bothered to argue, I’d rather take the peace and quiet. And as it amounted to about 70 pence too much, it wasn’t a big deal.
In the evening when I was surfing the web I discovered a site where I could view a live stream of the BBC News channel. Since the polls closed at 10pm UK time that was 4pm Colombian time so I could see the results come in. I watched them for a bit and saw the exit polls which was bad news for the Lib Dems but excitingly there was no majority for any party, so we were in unchartered waters as to who was going to form a government for the first time in an generation. The hilarious “con-dem” joke was still a few days away.
In the evening I met up with a couple of guys from Liverpool who had earlier borrowed a plug adapter. We went to a local microbrewery, which was a first for me in South America. We met some girls from Ireland who the Scousers knew and had some fun with them.
After we came back I caught up on the latest developments on the election while the guys kept drinking. Eventually they left before giving me a shout to come with them as they were too drunk to remember. Which was a bit poor. But then I went out to where they were planning to be, but they weren’t. The place was OK – and there were free drinks after you pay the entrance fee – but as there was no one there that I knew, I left after a short while. I had also run out of cash so I had to stop at a cash machine on the way home. I listened to the election results on my headphones as I fell asleep.
Cali – Medellín
Arriving in Medellín, I caught a cab from the bus station. Despite having a card with the address and even a map on the back, the cab driver still managed to get lost. To be fair, that wasn’t hard given that the streets are like spaghetti, stretched across the sides of various mountains in the Andes. And that both the road and house numbering systems in Colombia are completely mad. For a start, the roads are numbered, but not in any sensible consecutive range. Sure, there might be two roads next to each other that are Calle 8 and Calle 9, but then the next one will be Calle 9a and then Calle 9b. And then when that section ends, Calle 10 will be half way across the city in another district.
And the numbers on the houses make no sense at all. For a start there are two sets of numbers, so a house will be number 8 – 173b. Why? Well clearly the city planners were smoking crack. That’s the most sensible explanation that we can tell. Having said that, the first number seems to be the same for all houses on one street, which immediately renders it irrelevant. So the second number is the real house number. So why the first number? Well there must be some reason, and I bet there’s a Dan Brown novel in it. But I never worked it out.
But perhaps the real reason is that it’s an endemic, elaborate scam so that when foreigners arrive in the country, the taxi drivers have free reign to rip them off by pretending that they’re lost. Although they probably are.
Anyway eventually we found the place and the cab driver was only too happy to take my 10,000 peso note as payment, despite the counter not being above 8,000. Rip offs like that are so common that I couldn’t be bothered to argue, I’d rather take the peace and quiet. And as it amounted to about 70 pence too much, it wasn’t a big deal.
In the evening when I was surfing the web I discovered a site where I could view a live stream of the BBC News channel. Since the polls closed at 10pm UK time that was 4pm Colombian time so I could see the results come in. I watched them for a bit and saw the exit polls which was bad news for the Lib Dems but excitingly there was no majority for any party, so we were in unchartered waters as to who was going to form a government for the first time in an generation. The hilarious “con-dem” joke was still a few days away.
In the evening I met up with a couple of guys from Liverpool who had earlier borrowed a plug adapter. We went to a local microbrewery, which was a first for me in South America. We met some girls from Ireland who the Scousers knew and had some fun with them.
After we came back I caught up on the latest developments on the election while the guys kept drinking. Eventually they left before giving me a shout to come with them as they were too drunk to remember. Which was a bit poor. But then I went out to where they were planning to be, but they weren’t. The place was OK – and there were free drinks after you pay the entrance fee – but as there was no one there that I knew, I left after a short while. I had also run out of cash so I had to stop at a cash machine on the way home. I listened to the election results on my headphones as I fell asleep.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
