Bogotá, el último lugar

It's a place of contrast and bad history here. The contrast couldn't also be far from different to the beaches and Central American vibe. Bogota is a developing, modern, youthful city that has a bad rep. Statistically speaking Rio, a much more flaunted destination, has more crime than here, but sometime old habits die hard.

It has an old, historic area, La Candeleria, where we stayed. Pretty cafes, theatres and bohemian bars line cobbled streets. The houses are built for Frodo. Tiny ceilings and short doorways front little shops that serve up beautiful tinto, local cafe, and succulent arepia, griddled corn bread (melt in the mouth).

Arepa con choclo

A local poses for me

Downtown Bogota

View from the Police Museum

We were lucky enough to have some local contacts, so we met in the commercial, fancier district for a stupendous bit of steak. Seeing Julieth was excellent. I love seeing friends from home in foreign countries, it makes you feel homely and assured. We ate in Andres DC, drinking jet-fuel mojitos with tender, rare Colombian Bife Chorizo; heaven.

Bife de Chorizo

It's Julieth, woho

Beer and steak, perfect.

The end

The cavalier approach we had taken to Bogota was slightly altered by Julieth's 'Mother' warning of the real dangers this city offers. I guess when your sitting at traffic lights in a taxi on your way home, a man crosses the road and the cab driver locks the doors even when the hombre isn't remotely near tells you something.

Plaza Bolivar

Alone the next day I spent it wandering, eating, drinking and talking. I visited the Museo Policia Nacional, a real insight into the day to day lives of the Police in Bogota. Not to mention a great historical account of the capture and destruction of Pablo Escobar.

He had so much money he offered to pay off Colombia's national debt!

My guide's weapon of choice!

Guns galore from the drug wars

My guide, an 18year old Policeman doing his national service was knowledgeable. We inter-changed between Spanish and English as I was taken round the Colonial, French building. The vast stock of weapons and my guides desire for more Guerrilla action was insightful. Especially when as he claimed, "I am a man I want to help my country and fight the drug war."

Escobar's 'Most Wanted'

This used to be the most dangerous part of Bogota before the Police mowed everything down and rebuilt the district

Later, I grabbed a set lunch in a great small local restaurant. Amusingly, the owners daughter, don't worry she was 24, took a shine to me. After lunch I chatted with her for almost two hours over many free tintos. It was a great ending to the trip because we managed a fairly decent conversation about many English and Colombian things. The most amusing part was her Father, the owner and chef, asking me if I was married! She was pretty delightful and had beautiful Colombian looks, dark hair, deep eyes and softly tanned skin. Unfortunately, we parted and I headed for my plane home.

Bogota

Bogota

And so I ended how it began. My be speckled eyes beaming with happiness after a great day spent talking to locals, smiling, eating delicious food whilst enjoying every minute of my own company. My favourite place had to be Guatemala but Colombia was somewhere I'm keen to explore more. I was now alone yet in company with the world wondering what next adventure I could embark on. I just wish it could have been for longer.

Hasta Luego not Adios Colombia

Cartagena de Indias

The scent of sweet red roses and blooming carnations filled my nose as the overload of pastel coloured buildings vied with one another. Gabriel Garcia Marquez described it as a place of mystery, wonder and magic, and by first entering at night bewildered my imagination. I kept quiet, mouth a jar taking in this wondrous feeling.

Heredia´s imposing statute looms over the city. He was the acclaimed founder.

This was a place I had wanted to come for a long time and boy did it live up to expectation.

Balconies on every building

Churches littered the city abit like Tescos but a lot nicer.

Each corner presented something different. It is sometimes hard to capture a place on camera because of the coolness this place exuded.

The many different coloured buildings reminded me of Boca in BA

It´s rustic charm gave its allure

Salsa beats and the clatter of hooves echoed the timid, two-storey streets. Coffee houses stood on each corner as tourists walked around clicking away on their digital cameras.

Flowers draped buildings as the sun reflected every inch of the bright orange paint

It was the U-20 World Cup in Colombia, locals wore the national colours with pride. Take note riotous England.

The famed bright shirt. Apt.

At dusk, the beautiful orange and yellow painted walls glowed a deeper hue transforming the city into a photographers paradise. The city has embraced the boutique scene with trendy, yet antique hotels lining the plazas with restaurants ten a penny.

We luckily arrived over a bank holiday. Festival and fiesta a plenty. Music embraced the warm night air, locals danced swigging beer whilst watching the free concert.

My favourite time was morning. The sun yawned over the grand walls illuminating all that was beautiful. Whilst the tourists slept, only hardworking locals gathered their belongings ready for another day. The roads were quiet and strolling in the middle of the roads was perfect for gazing whilst nibbling on a fresh pastry.

Locals just chilled out people watching click happy tourists

I mixed the sightseeing with some sensational nights/ and mornings out!  The self-professed cool scene has hit and it doesn't disappoint with lounge clubs donning the city walls under the stars, before clubs raucously spit out reggaeton, salsa and pop until 5am.  The coolness of sipping cocktails in Cartagena was a treat that brought a wide-brimmed smile to my face.

Cafe del Mar; sister club of the Ibiza one. Colombian, Slovakian and English friends

A corner shop showing the football, everyone and I mean everyone stops and watches the national team.

That dead cool flag

Days passed as this timeless place evoked Marquez's illustrious writing rhythm. Even the rain created a special effect, it's huge droplets and moody clouds balanced the brightly lit calles.

The famed walls of the old city

To say I liked this place was an understatement. One sure statement is the calibre of Colombian girls. But that's a story for another day. A gentlemen never tells and I'm sure Marquez would approve.

Saddling two Continents

Panama City, Panama.

Leaving Bocas was a chore; I really didn't want to. Bidding farewell to our fellow housemates we embarked on a mammoth bus ride to the capital of Panama. The city is reverred as the Miami of the Americas (that's the real, original Americas.) Our hostel, Lunas Castle, was perfectly situated in Casco Viejo, the antiguo, old town recently given Unesco status, that provided a great skyline of the city's skyscrapers.

That hat

Gossip girls

Skyline with impending storm

Casco Viejo

The enchantment of malls, the cinema and shopping tugged at the westerner in us. A day spent in Allbrook Mall satisfied the tug, new havianas, rocking boardshorts and eating something other than beans and rice did the job.

That night we took our third and fourth ride in a police car on this trip. Lucy's stolen phone meant a two hour negotiation in the police station. Surprisingly, they were helpful and after a good few hours we managed to escape to a cool, local, police-recommended cafe for some delightful nosh. The fact we had meant the entire policeforce became quite cool. Being greeted and high-fived by officers when eating is always a bit different, locals looked on amused.

Our travel buddy Jack arrived and we hung out in a fish market, eating some quite delicious seafood. We lapped up his company for one last hurrah before heading to a plane.

Oh my

And so Central America was being left behind for the last leg of the journey; a new continent and Colombia awaited.

Santa Marta, Colombia:

The beachy town of SM was the idea and beach is what we got. Vitamin D all the way. As I enjoyed the beaming rays, my mind drifted to what lay next. The distraction of Cartagena proved too much. I really couldn't wait to experience through my senses what I had read through the masterful, magical weaving of words of Marquez.

La playa in hot Santa Marta

 

Ben´s beach life

On a side note, the girls here are pretty special. On a total lad basis, I've been to Sweden & Brazil, and this is up there to give the top three, (although i think Canada has a strong case as well). What order, I'll let you know!

Same place different country

Cahuita, Costa Rica

From La Fortuna Lucy, Jack and I headed east to Cahuita and the Caribbean. The national park playa blanca awaited and it's stunning shoreline and coral reef provided the backdrop for topping up the tan and hunting snakes.

Welcome to the Carib and Cahuita, Costa Rica.

The local beach, playa blanca in the National Park

The plethora of animals visible from our towels on the beach was fantastic, straight away we spotted (and heard) screaming howler monkeys.

Monkeying around (Howler Monkey).

Iguana chilling on a branch

Small but noisy

I took a walk with a ranger taking in pitvipers, sloths, capuchin monkeys, black caimen, biting ants and iguanas. The bite of the pitviper here in Costa Rica would give you under 6 hours to live and my camera provided the ample zoom to get in close.

Caiman, relatively small crocs, with most species reaching lengths of only a few metres, although one species (this one) the black Caiman exceeds 4 metres in length.

He loves a mozzie 

Eyelash male Pitviper. I´m not even getting remotely close to it. I like my life.

Female Pitviper. They have a sixth sense with a pair of extremely sensitive infrared detecting organs.

We stayed a solitary night due to the unfriendliness of the locals and the call of the infamous Rocking J's hostel in Puerto Viejo.


Puerto Viejo, Costa Rica

Rockin´ J´s hostel:

We opted for hammocks, it seemed the right idea at the time, how wrong it became later when drunk!

We joined forces in the evening with a multitude of nations for an inaugural ring of fire. Jorge from Mexico, Hannah and Ella from England, Christian from Denmark and Mathieu from Canada. We opted for abuelo rum from Panama.

Mexico, Jersey and England. Represent.

Ring of Fire

The night was brilliant resulting in the newly formed united nations all suffering from acute hangovers and a new mutual dislike of hammocks. When the room is spinning the last thing you want is to be swinging to dreamland.

Bocas del Toro, Panama.


The next morning we all took a bus to Panama and Bocas del Toro.

Crossing the bridge for the border crossing from Costa Rica to Panama

Upon arrival en masse, we decided to skip the hostel dorm and hired a house for as cheap as a dorm. 

It was incredible, our own rooms, wifi and two floors. 

Mi casa es su casa che.

Fortuitously, Jorge was doing his PHD at the Smithsonian Institure on the Isla de Colon. We grabbed a truck and he drove us to starfish beach for snorkelling and caribbean azure waters. This was the life.

Back from snorkelling

Stunning walk to Starfish beach

Rubbish view

Exactly as it is

SLR times

Coconut drinking

Our fantastic fish and coconut lunch by the sea. Jack didnt speak, just ate.

The Mexican.

Football, football

Le foot

Calcio

Jersey´s finest

That evening we stocked up on booze and I made a Panamanian spaghetti bolonaise for our newly formed family. 

El chef.

The hot meal with the fam.

Barco Hundido:

Bocas nightlife is on another level. We kicked off the crazy night in a few bars before heading to Barco Hundido. An open-air bar with a sunken banana boat that rests in the clear carib water at the front. The shortwalk boardwalk provided the perfect seating area for stargazing amidst booming Latino salsa. It also meant great drunken diving and swimming. Yes I loved that bit!!

Jaeger bombs going strong in Bocas it seems

Swimming at the nightclub (me on the right, Arianna on the left)!!

Post free tequila shots 

 Waking the next morning the family all looked shellshocked. Our salsa legs were tired, clothes wet from swimming and the house a state. Result.

Surfin' con el Mexicano:

Tired but smiling we took a short water taxi to another island in the archipelago for some, well quite frankly mental surfing.

The island we took a boat to for sun, sea and surf.

The surf shop owner was an Argie, so I had a great convo with him about  Boca Juniors

Great surf backdrop in Bocas

Officially, I've only surfed once before on a big board. So when Jorge handed me a much shorted, fibreglass board, my hungover face faked a fragile smile. No joke we had to paddle out from shore for 20 minutes. Being hungover did not help. The waves though were amazing, the shallow coral no thank you. The scrapes and scars live on but so does the brilliant surf Jorge introduced me too. 

Pre-surf. Amazing, I learnt so much with Jorge. Super LAD

Therefore, the three places, two countries merged gloriously into one laid-back, hazen experience of Caribbean fun. Pura vida che!