Our first border crossing 😩

The next major obstacle in our South American travels – and one I was absolutely dreading – was the border crossing from Colombia to Ecuador. We’d read horror stories of night busses being hijacked, crossing the border itself taking hours and countless other problems. So, we decided to do it in 3 days in the hope that it would be easier. In the end, it was hellish. Enjoy; this is a long one! 

Day 1: Salento to Popayan

Admittedly, our starting point wasn’t the best as Salento was not only very far away from the border but also had no real bus connections to anywhere. The first step therefore was to get a bus to somewhere that did – Armenia (not the country FYI). That bus took just under and hour and then we had to find a bus to our next destination. We soon found out that only one bus company (apparently) go from Armenia to Popayan. Unfortunately, as it turned out, this bus was far from the luxury of our previous long journey. In fact, the bus was so old we were surprised it was still functioning. On the 7 hour journey we had no toilet and only a couple of toilet breaks. I was back to my old complaining self. 

When we finally reached Popayan we decided to walk (20 minutes) to our hostel. As soon as we left the bus terminal the heavens opened and it chucked it down. The two of us, our clothes, our shoes and our bags got absolutely soaked and we arrived at the hostel looking like drowned rats. We dried ourselves off and made it to the supermarket 5 minutes before they closed (more luck than judgement) to buy noodles and snacks. The one night stay in Popayan was uneventful and we just used it as a stopover.

Day 2: Popayan to Ipiales

The next day involved travelling to the last town before the Colombia-Ecuador border: Ipiales. At the bus terminal the same company we had used the day before tried to rip us off and then squeezed us onto a bus that was already full. We claimed 2 seats together at the back after complaining. We were pretty sure the bus was even older than the one from the day before. The journey itself was absolutely horrendous. The bus hurtled through the mountains and swung us from side to side for 8 hours straight. It also stopped at various points for no apparent reason. When we did reach Ipiales, we were travel-sick, exhausted and done with busses. We were looking forward to a good night sleep in the hotel that we’d booked. Unfortunately, it turned out that our ‘hotel’ was dirty, dowdy and dodgy (and not exactly a hotel). We didn’t feel safe being there and it was freezing. We wanted to be out of there as soon as we could.

Day 3: Ipiales to Quito

At 7am we left the hotel and hailed a taxi back to the bus terminal. ‘Collectivos’ (collective taxis) heading to the border were easy to find and cheap. When we got there we had to first get our exit stamps from Colombia. Now, Colombians are only in a hurry when it suits them so of course there was only one desk open. After a long wait, we were leaving Colombia and walked across the border into Ecuador. All done? Nope. Next we had to get our entrance stamps for Ecuador. As it turned out, Ecuadorians are not in an hurry either and we waited another hour here. The next step was a taxi to the local bus terminal in Tulcan. 

From there we had to get yet another bus, this time to Quito (our final destination). As soon as we got out of the taxi we were accosted by 3 men asking us where we were going. We were ushered onto a bus leaving “NOW” to Quito. Almost an hour later, after picking up more passengers at every bus stop in sight, we were on the way. The bus didn’t stop once for a toilet break but did stop countless times along the way for pick-ups and drop-offs. We had about a million different people trying to sell us everything from ice-creams to cooked meats. The 5 hour journey took almost 7 hours and ended up going nowhere near our hostel. So we jumped off and, after receiving the help of various kind Ecuadorians, found a bus heading towards our hostel. Eventually we made it and after 3 days of hellish bus journeys, needed a cold beer or 12. Hopefully the next border crossing won’t be so terrible…

I actually enjoyed Salento…

We left Medellin on a bus headed to Salento that was supposed to take 5 hours. Almost 8 hours later and we reached our destination.  It turns out the roads in Colombia are not built for speed; they are winding, run through mountains and are currently ALL in the process of being dug up. Luckily, the bus was one of the more luxurious options – we had a toilet, a tv each and 15 English films to choose from. From the moment we reached Salento, we loved it. It was quiet, safe and vibrant. Our hostel provided us with a lovely private room and what felt like our own little kitchen! We dropped off our bags and went to explore. We wandered down streets full of artesenal shops and bars crowded even on a Wednesday night. Instantly we loved the feel of the place. We stumbled upon a place for dinner called Brunch and enjoyed a burger and veggie chilli followed by a delicious peanut butter brownie. The place was cool and the food was great. 

The next day we woke up bright and early to do the Valle de Cocora trek and see the tallest palm trees in the world. I won’t lie, the trek was hard. We walked (climbed) through forests, waterfalls, rocks and other difficult terrain. I slipped numerous times and almost fell face first in mud. It also involved walking uphill solidly for an hour. I did not enjoy that part. We stopped at a farm half-way to try hot chocolate with cheese (yes, that’s a thing in Colombia) and see some amazing hummingbirds. The trek ended in the valley itself and we saw the most enormous palm trees – they were very impressive. Then we travelled back to town, enjoyed some instant mac and cheese from a packet and zonked out, absolutely shattered.

Our second day involved visiting a coffee farm, learning how it is grown and harvested and then tasting it. We chose El Ocaso Finca and loved picking our own coffee beans and seeing the process of coffee-making. It was interesting to learn that most Colombians actually drink second-class coffee because the country cannot afford to buy the high-quality coffee back after exporting it. Colombia might grow some of the best coffee in the world but it certainly doesn’t drink much of it. On the way back to town we rode on the back of a Jeep (standing) and held on for dear life. Then we cooked ourselves a gourmet meal of – you guessed it – instant noodles.

The last day in Salento was very quiet and we spent most of the day in bed recovering. Later in the day we played cards over a few beers and then went to try out a typical Colombian game called Tejo. We found a bar nearby and ordered 2 beers. The game itself involved throwing heavy metal discs at a ring surrounded by explosive packets. The aim was to make the biggest explosion possible. It was both terrifying and exhilarating. To treat ourselves we then went for our last meal in Salento – at Brunch again (we are definitely creatures of habit).

In the end we were really sad to be leaving Salento and could have spent much longer here. It was the most relaxed I’d personally felt through all of our travels so far. Maybe I’m starting to actually enjoy travelling. We’ll see…

Medellin: murderous or misunderstood?

The next destination in Colombia was Medellin – former murder capital of the world. Our flight from Santa Marta arrived without any problems. Little did we know that the airport was actually an hour away from the city and it was almost impossible to get a bus to where we needed to be. Luckily, a Colombian man who spoke English approached us and suggested we share a taxi.We obviously agreed and climbed into a taxi with the man, his wife and their son. It was pretty cramped but much cheaper. Our hostel in El Poblado was Garden of Blues; a nice hostel with poor communication and not much functionality. It transpired that our dorm room was in a completely separate house further down the road which we had to find ourselves (not a fun thing to do with huge backpacks). You also had to ring a doorbell to be let in AND OUT of the building. Someone didn’t think that through very well. On the positive side, the room was lovely, clean and quiet at first. The peace was later ruined by some very loud French girls but that’s just me finding something to complain about! We decided to go to the supermarket and buy some food – the start of our eating in after spending far too much money on restaurants – and grabbed a beer in the local BBC (Bogata Beer Company). We cooked pasta and had a chill night in. I was starting to get the hang of this travelling lark. 

The following day we walked to the Metro station to start a 4 and a half hour walking tour of Medellin. I’m not a huge fan of walking but I thought I’d give it a go. It turned out to be one of the most fascinating and enjoyable experiences of my travels so far. Our tour guide took us all over the city and showed us plenty of sights. However, it was his enthusiasm and and knowledge that made it so great. Being a Paisa (look it up), he wasn’t short on confidence and we learnt so much about the history of Medellin from him. The drugs, the murders, the politics, the corruption, the money, the building of the Metro and the new hope that the city has of writing a new history – one that doesn’t involve the negativity of the past. In one of the city’s plazas was a Botero statue that had been blown up decades previously. The resilience of the city is shown with that statue. They kept it where it was, refused to take it away, and put an identical (in-tact) statue next to it. They wanted to show where they had come from and where they hoped to be. We realised that the stories we had read, and the reputations that Medellin and Colombia have, are completely wrong. 

After walking for almost 5 hours on the tour, we went back to El Poblado and walked a massive hill in the boiling heat. That was not fun. We had a rest in the hostel and then ventured out to find somewhere to eat (the previous vow of eating in gone out the window). We found a really cool, almost secret, restaurant (it was very hard to find the entrance) called Casa Comedor and had some interesting beer cocktails (my kind of thing!). Unfortunately the food was cold and tiny but I would recommend it for cocktails.

Our final day was just as busy. We chose not to visit Guatepe (the 2 hour bus journey sounded awful) and instead got the cable car all the way up to the top of the hills. We were able to see the whole city and the stark contrast between the poor areas of the hills and the hugely built-up city. Then we travelled further up and into the forest to visit Parque Arvi. We took the wrong path on our walk and didn’t enjoy it but it was an interesting place to see anyway. 

The highlight of our day was (I’m sure you can guess) finding an amazing coffee shop to drink REAL Colombian coffee. We went twice in one day. Oh how we love coffee shops. For our last night in Medellin we settled for what would soon become our staple diet – instant noodles. 

Off to sleepy Salento next!

Santa Marta and Minca

Colombia’s Caribbean coast continued…

So, after coming to terms with the loss of my flip-flops (this took days, really), we arrived in Santa Marta expecting to find a lovely hotel, with our own bathroom, to relax in for 4 nights. The reality, however, was that the hotel we had booked was empty and MILES away from anything. Hoping we were just being dramatic, we dropped off our bags and walked to the main centre of Santa Marta. 25 minutes later we were still nowhere near and were exhausted from the 30 degree heat. We passed a grand total of 1 restaurant and plenty of dodgy streets. We decided that we couldn’t stay at the hotel and returned to try and get a refund. The issue here was that the woman at reception spoke no English and our Spanish is very limited. “No me gusto”, “quiero un reembolso”, “muy  lejos” and “dos chicas solo” eventually got the message across and we got a refund for 2 out of 3 nights. Result! We booked a taxi and left for Taganga (a small fishing village nearby) full of hope for a more enjoyable stay.

The hostel we had chosen had amazing reviews on HostelWorld and seemed lovely at first – a nice outside area with a pool, a roof-top bar and a hammock overlooking the village. However, after closer inspection, we noticed that the room had no windows and just a tiny, barely-functioning fan to help(!) combat the heat. This may not seem like the end of the world, but when you are number 1 on mosquitoes’ most wanted list, this is a massive problem. It was the only thing I could think about and I was dreading the night ahead. Instead of complaining (that’s a lie) we set off for a “3 minute walk” (according to the hostel) down to the beach. 20 minutes later we made it. We found a nice taco place and watched the beautiful sunset and it actually turned into a lovely evening – disregarding the hair I found in my food. The walk back in almost complete darkness was terrifying – I’ve never seen so many stray dogs – and we decided one night was probably enough in Taganga.  We didn’t sleep a wink that night and sweat almost half to death. So once again, we changed our plans and cancelled the other 2 nights in the hostel, resolving to give Santa Marta another chance. 

The next hostel was much better – amazing air-con, a jacuzzi on the roof, a bar and free breakfast. We did end up changing rooms twice (1. Creepy old man, 2. Smelly group of boys) because we love to complain, and someone did steal my yoghurt, but we coped. Santa Marta, however, was not much better. It was too hot, too crowded and too smelly – not a particularly pleasant place to be if you ask me. Highlights of our stay included finding a great coffee place with air-con (La Canoa if you’re wondering) and eating wonderful arepas from a street seller (which, by the way, Santa Marta has TRILLIONS of). So, we spent 4 days drinking coffee, moaning about the heat and waiting for our flight to Medellin. We would have left early if we could have. We chose not to visit Parque Tayrona (beaches, treks, heat, people) for obvious reasons. We did go on one (half) day trip to a tiny place called Minca. The journey was winding, bumpy and full (one woman was even sat on a stool instead of in a seat). When we reached Minca, we trekked for an hour to spend 5 minutes at a disappointing waterfall (at least I went in!) and then walked all the way back. Luckily we saw some beautiful birds and amazing views. 

We’ve realised, having spent quite a while on the coast of Colombia, that we are most certainly NOT beach people. My growing list of things to avoid whilst travelling includes: party hostels, mixed dorm rooms, heat, random hotels, trusting reviews, booking flights in advance and treks in 30+ degrees. On to Medellin!

Colonial Cartagena

Hola, amigos! I haven’t updated in a little while. Sorry to all you avid readers. I’ll try to update more regularly from now on but I promise nothing (I’m usually too busy complaining). I’ll break down the 4 places we visited in the north of Colombia in the next few posts.


After the the lessons learnt in Bogota, we flew to the next place on our Colombian list – Cartagena. Passing through security on both ends was the quickest and easiest experience I have had in any airport. At least I couldn’t moan about this!  The flight was seamless and even included a terrible coffee and some in-flight entertainment. Safe to say, it was a reasonably enjoyable hour. We landed, sped through to baggage reclaim, grabbed our bags and jumped into a taxi. 13,000 COP (about 4 pounds) all the way to our hostel was an absolute bargain! The moment we got out of the taxi, an intense and unwavering wall of heat hit us. How lovely to have some sun, we thought. How wrong we would be. We left our bags at the hostel (too early to check in, of course) and went off to explore. 

After walking past many Colombian houses and getting some funny looks, we came across what looked like a cute little bar and ordered dos cervezas. The beers were ice-cold and went down a treat. It was then that we noticed that we were literally in someone’s back garden. Their washing was even on the line! Finding this quirky, we had another 2 beers and wasted some time. Unfortunately, the bush I was sitting next to was teeming with mosquitoes who inevitably devoured me in any place they could. How knew elbows were a prime spot?! Of course, because I did some excellent complaining, we then had to leave the bar and miserably wait to check in at the hostel. For once,  I couldn’t complain here – wi-fi worked well, air-conditioning was good and the pool was welcome relief from the heat (which we were bored with a few hours in.)

We immediately booked on a tour to the nearby mud volcano for the following day and headed off to the centre. (Brief side-note here: surprisingly, we decided not to go to a hole in the ground where strangers rub your backs with mud and then expect a tip for it). A shocking lunch came next with very rude service and cold food. The old town was absolutely beautiful, with the surrounding wall enclosing stunning colonial architecture, buildings and sights. The only problem was that the entire town was a complete rip-off! 8,000 COP for a coffee had us running in disgust and searching for hours for a reasonably priced cafe. We had no luck. The food wasn’t much cheaper. We soon learnt that Cartagena itself was more style than substance and a real tourist trap.

The most genuine place we found was down by the sea. We stumbled across 4 fishermen at work whilst 3 types of incredible birds surrounded them, trying to get a morsel of fish. It was one of my favourite memories to date. Trying to eat dinner that evening wasn’t easy either and it turned out that pizza restaurants were EVERYWHERE. We ended up eating in the same place twice because we were so bored of looking at expensive pizza menus. If you were wondering, we had pizza both nights…

The next day was more positive, mainly because of a small coffee shop that we found in the old town (ironic after searching for so long the day before). We were immediately made to feel welcome and were served by a knowledgable and enthusiastic man who clearly loved his job. We tried a delicious coffee and then received an impromptu lesson in the history of Colombian coffee – smelling and tasting different coffee beans. I absolutely loved it. If you ever find yourself in Cartagena, be sure to check out Folklore Coffee. 

After 2 nights in Cartagena, we were ready to move on and left for Santa Marta. It was only when we got 2 hours into the 5 hour journey that I realised I had left my brand-new Haviana flip-flops at the hostel. Oh the joys of travelling. The worrisome wayfarer saga continues.

Bogota backpacking

Having spent the last 3 days of my terrifying trip in Bogota, I have learnt 3 important things:

1) The driving in Bogota is some of the craziest I have ever witnessed.

2) Party hostels are NOT my thing.

3) There is a lot more to Bogota than meets the eye.

Allow me to explain these in more detail.

1) Zebra crossings, traffic lights, stop/give way signs and pedestrians are of absolutely no interest to drivers in Bogota and are treated with absolute contempt. Each just another obstacle slowing the drivers down. Every single inch of space is used, with busses and motorbikes squeezing through the tiniest of gaps. Beeping is mandatory at all times – beeping at other drivers, beeping at pedestrians, beeping at nothing in particular. Crossing the road takes ages and you risk your life trying to navigate each calle and carrera. I have been allowed to cross the road just once in 3 days – by a push bike. This, I think, sums up the driving in Colombia.

2) Undoubtedly, choosing to stay in a party hostel in the middle of a capital city was not my finest decision. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m no stranger to ‘partying’ and I’m definitely not a party poopoer, but I have developed a cynicism towards the concept with age. A few beers and an early night is more my scene these days. Shocker, I know. So, naturally, I have not particularly enjoyed my time at this hostel. Loud music, loud singing, loud chatting and loud dancing combined with a complete disregard for my sleep have lead to an extremely disgruntled and tired me. My favourite night so far was Friday night – party bus night. To my absolute joy, all party-goers left the hostel at 10pm to leave me to have the best night’s sleep of my trip so far. Bliss.

3) Bogota is a fascinating city full of its own character and charm. Initially it feels intimidating and bustling but it is only when you learn the history and detail the city has to offer that you truly experience its real beauty. One of the first things you notice is that street art, or graffiti, adorns almost every wall in sight and this is one thing that gives Bogota its uniqueness. Colours, paintings and words fill blank and dull spaces and brighten up what would be an otherwise bland place. Unfortunately, Bogota is in the midst of an enforced purge on street art and beautifully created murals are being covered every day. Below are photos of the same wall 2 days apart – the graffiti removed.

The fight to keep this part of the city’s culture is ongoing but it would be an awful shame to see this covered up – figuratively and literally.

Cartegena up next. The worrisome wayfarer’s adventures continue.

A change of plans… :/

So, after making the painstaking decision to travel to Australia for a year, full of worry and angst, inevitably my plans changed again. I write this entry aboard a flight to Orlando, Florida – the first leg of a journey to Bogota, Colombia. The start of a three-month trip across South America. You may be wondering how this possibly came about. Well, let me explain. I was convinced that South America would let me have at least 3 months off work; who could turn that down? The flight to Australia was cancelled and new flights to Bogota were booked. I’ll now be (reluctantly) travelling to Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia and Chile before moving on to Australia and then Bali. Considering my reluctance to ever travel, I’ll now be taking my terrified self to 7 countries in the space of 12 months. Who knew?

Continue to follow my posts for more fear-filled antics. 

A beginner’s blog…

Welcome to my brand new blog! Here I’ll be posting updates from my upcoming travels. Having never been interested in travelling (or exploring the world) and maintaining that I would never EVER do so, I naturally made the decision to book a one-way ticket to Australia for July…

Come back for more cynic-filled, tentative travelling experiences in the next few months!

Image result for cairns