Following the jungle trek we arrived back in Taganga in the evening, we’d all been talking about how much we were looking forward to a good few drinks, but I think we were all in bed that first night fairly early…totally shattered! The next day I’d promised myself a total day of chilling and indulgence. Laundry, sunbathing and swimming in the hostel’s very nice pool and a massage were the only things I achieved. Most of our trekking group were staying at the same place and we all planned to head into the Tayrona national park the next day.

This is one of the Colombia’s Caribbean coastline biggest attractions, and all though its a bit of an effort to get there it’s totally worth it. An hour bus ride, and then an hour and half trek through jungle and along stunning beaches we arrived at Cabo de San Juan camp and hammock site. We had to wait till 2pm when we could book our hammocks for the night. They have a gazebo on top of a small hillock just off the beach with 16 hammocks, and then plenty of others and tents on the main beach. I was adamant about getting one of the top hammocks, for the location, view and breeze at night. When it came to booking in there was only one left so I ruthlessly took that and the others were down in the main camp. We were all very hot and sweaty and the first swim was more than welcome. A number of the beautiful beaches we’d passed on the walk to our camp area are too dangerous to swim in, and that’s one of the biggest draws of the place we stayed. Two lovely swimming beaches, unfortunately with the difficulty in getting there and the popularity of the place comes high prices. My hammock was $25000, £8.50 a night, it was more than any hostel I’d paid in Colombia. And food and drink were equally pricey. That night we had a pretty early night, and I headed off up to my hillock hammock. I’d read about and been forewarned by the chap at check-in about rats, and they were everywhere. That first night a couple next to me hadn’t been told, and had bought some food up into the area, the rats had managed to get into the bags making plenty of noise. After trying to separate the food bags from the rest of their stuff and the rats still tearing up the place the couple left. I made the slightly awkward walk to the toilet down the hill, across the beach to and through the camp during the middle of the night and found the couple sitting in the dining area waiting for dawn to leave, the rats had been just too much for them.

The following day, I originally woke just after five and grabbed a few early morning snaps. We spent the whole day on the beach, swimming and relaxing. It was another one of those paradise places of my trip, and my last bit of Caribbean action. That night we drunk our smuggled in rum, and wandered off up the beach to watch the stars and chat. The park has a strict zero tolerance on drugs, and all of a sudden we had two policeman shining torches in faces searching us. One of the girls had a tiny bit of weed on her that she’d managed to hide. Another girl had her credit card on her that they were accusing her of using to chop up lines of coke. After a couple of minutes, they calmed down and they asked if they could hang out with us as they were bored. We all started to head off back to the main camp and when I lifted up my flipflops I revealed unknowingly were the girl had hidden the weed in a fag pack. The mood changed heavily again, and as I was the only one who could speak Spanish had another few minutes of very panicky pleading whilst they threatened to call the local police armada to have us removed from the beach, pay a massive fine and leave the country. I managed to convince them that no weed had been smoked and the girl hadn’t realised she had it with her. They took the weed and we all walked back to the main camp, I wasn’t entirely sure were we stood yet, but I ushered two of the girls off (one of whom was a lawyer and didn’t need to be involved at all). When we got back got the cafe area the two police guys were all relaxed and insisted we had a few drinks with them and told us don’t worry about anything and everything was all “Tranquillo”… I explained how we didn’t feel very relaxed at all and were now really paranoid. They changed out of their uniform and obtained some free beers from one of the cafe waiters who joined us, and apparently we were out of the woods. After an hour I departed, and left my friend who spoke no Spanish to enjoy herself with the very policeman who’d confiscated her weed. It was a vey surreal night all in all, only topped by the sensation of rats running up and down me and over my face all night.

I still say it was worth the discomfort of the rats and the extortionate rate for the feeling of sleeping so near the ocean and the breeze. We were so lucky with the weather again and had no rain in the park, if we had there was a very good chance I’d have been soaked whilst sleeping. We had nearly the whole of the next day on the beach also before three of us left by boat. The forty minute boat ride has made it to the top of my most ludicrous boat rides of the trip so far, within two minutes the whole boat was soaked. My seat was a plastic five litre food tub, which did my increasingly painful back no good. The coastline was Jurassic, but there was no chance of photos with the spray. It was hilarious fun, and saved about two hours off the journey.

Back in Taganga we collected our bags from the hostel and headed to the neighbouring city of Santa Marta. Following two average nights sleep with the rats, I was adamant about a very quiet night in. That changed when we checked into our hostel and were accosted by a group heading out for the night to some salsa bars. How easily we are led sometimes! Luckily for my hangover the next day the hostel which was previously a cartel house had a huge swimming pool, and that’s were spent the whole day! My back was now seriously giving me grief and the usual painkillers were not working. The following day we briefly popped into town for a bit of wander. I replaced my fourth pair of flipflops and third pair of earphones, and we had a good local lunch of snapper.

I left my new bestie in Santa Marta that night and took the nightbus to San Gil. My back pain flared up to the max, and the bumpy twisty ride didn’t help. I fought back tears on a couple of occasions. Luckily I’d bumped into a French guy Fabien on the bus I’d met before who kindly helped me with my pack as we were headed to the same hotel. San Gil is half way between the coast and Bogota and is an adrenaline junkies haven. On arrival at our hostel the Aussie chap that runs it had a video playing demoing all the stuff we could do; rafting, paragliding, hydro speed, mountain biking, waterfall repelling and hiking. I only had two days here, and all though my back was bad I wasn’t go to miss out. That afternoon I had a decent nap to catch up on my sleep from the bus. Lying down I was comfortable, but getting up after was terrible, as was sitting.

The following morning with my French buddy we headed off to go paragliding. This was the first time I’d down this, and its a great place to do it up over the Chicamocha canyon. In my head I had this down as quite an extreme activity to do, but actually as soon as your airborne it’s incredibly peaceful. The sitting position wasn’t fantastic on my back, but ok. We climbed higher and higher and the views were spectacular. The chap I was with spun us around a few times, and them I felt pretty nauseas! We descended really fast spinning around, and I had to shut my eyes! We climbed back up high again before coming down and landing with no problems. We’d been up for about forty minutes and my buddy also felt really sick to. We both agreed it was awesome, glad we’d done it, but its not something we’d do again! The drive back my back pain had transferred into my thigh and calf and I enquired about seeing a Chiropracter back in town, but it was a bank holiday Monday and my options would only be a Witch doctor or a massage the following day. I had another siesta, and then four of us went for a local dinner of cheesy flat breads with toppings.

The next morning was rafting. The Rio Suarez is one of the best rivers in all South America for rafting, and we were really lucky as it had been shut up till a week before as it had been class VI (un-raftable) due to the amount of water. I’d met along my travels in Colombia several disappointed punters who’d come through the town not to be able to go. This was my second time rafting, after a very exhilarating ride in Costa Rica were my raft had flipped and I’d had a run in with some rocks and drank a lot of water! The Rio Suarez was ranked technically more challenging with more class Vs. The company we went with were extremely safe and we were only two rafts with a safety kayak. In Costa Rica we’d been about seven rafts. Our guide was fantastic, and we didn’t flip! The rapids were immense, but because of the added safety it didn’t feel as frenzied as last time and there seemed to be slightly larger gaps between rapids when we could jump in a float down river a bit. The two big Vs we went through we incredible, and how we didn’t come out is definitely down to the guide’s skills! Our final rapid was only a class II which they let us float down lying in the water, a bit like hydrospeed. I was really happy to have battled the back pain, and do rafting again. Unlike paragliding, that’s something I’d do again and again when the opportunity arises, all though I’ve been quite spoilt with the two rivers I ridden.

We got back into town just in time for the Colombia v Peru football match, they had a big screen up in the central plaza and the atmosphere was fantastic. I had bought a football shirt, but it was indecent to wear without a padded bra which I’d didn’t have. Colombia won, so the mood was good as I left the square for a massage I’d booked. I explained my bank pain to the male masseuse as best as I could and he set to work with a hot stone treatment concentrating on my lower back and the effected leg. I was slightly unconvinced when I turned round faceup bare breasted and he proceeded to massage my stomach and breasts. I googled it afterwards and apparently that’s normal in Colombia. It didn’t feel anything but professional, but I found it pretty hard not to giggle. The massage was decent and I was optimistic fir reduced pain for a while…..

San Gil had been on my list, since someone had told me about the things you could do there, and all though I wasn’t on my best form I have no regrets ticking that one off. How often am I going to get opportunities to do things like this again in my life, as I approach only two months left of my trip it’s going to be Yes to anything I can do.

I took the nightbus back to Bogota, the massage hasn’t worked and I was still in major pain. I arrived at 5am, and was checked in and back in bed by 6am. After a few extra Zs I dropped off my laundry and took breakfast on a roof terrace over a unusually sunny city. I walked round a fair bit, as walking like lying was the least painful. In bed early with my alarm set for 3.40 am, I was awake with pain by 2.30 and got up earlier then planned to get ready for the airport, and left at 4.20. I flew to Lima via Panama City, and both journeys sitting down were excruciating. Arriving back in Lima totally shattered and in agony by 2pm was not the frame of mind I needed to be in to start my 21 day tour of Peru’s highlands including Machu Pichuu…..

So that was my month in Colombia, so many travellers I’d met had really hyped the country up and I was not disappointed. Every place I visited was so very different, the highlands, the cities, the jungle, the beaches, the colonial towns. And within the country the physiology of the people varies so much from the Afro Caribbeans, the indigenous tribes of the jungle, the heavy set Spanish cowboys of Salento, the beautiful atypical city girls. The fruit was outstanding as expected, and after the somewhat mundane food of Central America the cuisine was far more interesting with a decent smattering of fish. I met far more British travellers in Colombia than any other place I’ve been, good in that you can’t beat British humour, but not so good for maintaining my Spanish. I’ve met a lot of people travelling, some I hang out with for an evening or a few days, and some a bit longer. Every now and again I’ve met someone that I’ve just clicked with and one of the girls from the jungle trek a young Australian Chelsea was someone I thought instantly would annoy the hell out of me, but actually I got on so well with. Maybe some of these people I will meet again, but most I won’t; but that’s half the fun of travelling make these very quick strong friendships even if its only for a few days or a few weeks…as they say down under….”too easy”.

Had a pretty amusing flight from Medellin to Cartagena, full of a rowdy adult group from Bogtota getting ready for a big weekend on the coast, the staff were completely unable to control them and most of them were standing up or kneeling back over the seats during both take off and landing, too funny! Landing at Cartagena on the Caribbean coast was another huge temperature change, I was glad to arrive in the relatively cooler evening, and also glad I’d been forewarned to get a room with aircon!

In my hostel I bumped into a couple I’d met back on the coast of Mexico and headed out with them the next day to a mud volcano. This was such a tourist trap, but totally worth it and hilarious. The “volcano” is a small mound which you climb up some scarily slippery stairs holding onto the mud covered banister, before climbing down into the volcano into a bath of pretty stinky mud. There were two chaps massaging everyone, it was not obligatory but actually you had no way out of it. The sensation of almost floating in the mud was nothing but weird and all you could do was laugh and and muck about…like pigs in s**t! After we walked down to a pretty stinking lake to wash off, where again we were accosted by ladies helping wash the mud of us, something else that was not obligatory that basically was, but for a few extra dollars I wasn’t bothered!

The following day I braced the mid day heat and walked round the old town inside the fort walls. I’ve seen a lot of very pretty colonial towns and cities on my travels, but Cartagena is certainly battling up near the top. With the narrow streets and balconies, it felt very European, but with the Caribbean twist if colour. After a few hours and nearly sliding out if my flip flops from the amount if sweat I was producing I dived into “Crepes y Waffles”. This is a fairly new chain of Colombian restaurants that a Colombian girl I’d met in Mexico made me promise I’d try. Aside for the welcome aircon, the food was amazing. I had a crepe with Mexican chicken in chipotle sauce, sooooo good! I snuck back two days later for another hit….

Sunday I headed off to Playa Blanca with a day pack, a one hour hour and quite pricey boat ride up the mainland. I’d timed this slightly badly as the weekend crowd rocking up on this “deserted” beach made it look a bit like Blackpool! I think this was another case were I’ve been hugely spoilt with some of my recent beach action. But blue plastic covered sunshades lining the bench, noisy jet skis buzzing up and down the shallows touting for business, and the weekend crowd discarding their beer cans and rubbish in the sand just didn’t do it for me. Luckily I was staying the night in an overpriced cabana, and by four pm 95% of the crowd had left so I could look at this beautiful white beach. Mmmmmm….. yep I’ve been spoilt. The following morning was really peaceful and quiet till the boat shuttles started arriving around 11am, but not nearly the volumes of people the day before. To be fair the water was pretty amazing, and it was a great paddling beach, (aside from noisy, smelly, dangerously handled jetskis…what a grumpy git I’ve become!). But as the beach is a little remote everything is extortionate, and whilst I got some good sunbathing and chilling out down its not one I’d rush back to.

I left Cartagena the following morning for Taganga, five hours further east on the coast. My original plan was to maybe to do some snorkelling, and then head to the national park for some beach action. I’d met an English girl back in Guatemala, who’d told me about the lost city trek, “ciudad perdida”. I’d decided back then I was going to do it, but since being in Colombia I’d talked myself back out of it, having been caught in some fairy heavy rain and not wanting to walk for five days in hot, humid mosquito jungle. However….on checking into my hostel and meeting three people who’d just completed the trek they convinced me I HAD to do it. I just caught the office still open at 6pm and books myself on for the next morning leaving at 8am…snap decision made and followed through.

I was picked up in the heaviest deluge yet, and I was thinking what the hell was I thinking!!?? But a three hour drive inland and off road to our starting point and there was no rain just sun. We were a group of six girls, and one of the girls I’d coincidentally met in Bogota. We headed off at 2pm, and had our first swimming hole opportunity after only forty minutes. This was one of the deal breakers for me that we got to swim in rivers at least once a day. After that we started the toughest climb of the five days, it was nearly straight up on a switch back for an hour and half and having done so little trekking the prior months I was feeling it! We plateaued out for an hour, before a sharp decline. The light had started to fade and we had to get a lick on, we’d just made the shelter before full darkness and the rain launched down! It was insane, so heavy that I took a full shower under a gutter with soap and cleaned all my clothes. That night we were staying in Hammocks suspended under a shelter. Another couple from a different company joined us, so we were now eight hikers, two guides and one chef. In our camp that night was also another group, mainly Brits, and one super loud Gringo. Our group and all the staff went off to try and sleep and these guys stayed up drinking, giggling and shrieking for another few hours causing some verbal abuse back and forth between the groups. They were them noisily up two hours before us as they were doing the trek in four days not five, great as when they left camp we wouldn’t be seeing them again, but not so great that we’d been awake since 5am and walking on four hours sleep was not so fun.

But day two was fairly easy, and we were in the second camp by 1pm, had some great swimming and come across our first indigenous communities of the Kogi tribe. It was like going back in time in the jungle passing the odd couple on a donkey, or kids carrying baskets laden of plantain. Both our guides were really informative and one of the girls was fluent in Spanish and did a great job translating, I chipped in a little to. It was fascinating learning about their culture. At night a couple of the kids came into camp to get some extra dinner, funny little guys. That night we were back in beds, and I slept much better. Day three was pretty easy again, and aside from wading through some rivers and the last petty steep bit along the river side was ok. We were in camp by 2pm before another immense downpour. Most of the group headed off for a bit of sleep, myself and and one girl hangout playing cards and dominoes. Some more local tribe kids were in camp, and I lent them my dominoes. I wrongly assumed they couldn’t speak any Spanish, but ended up in conversation with a twelve year old for half an hour. It was really intriguing, asking each other about our lives. My Spanish is ok, but trying to explain to a fourteen year old kid from such a different world why I had split up from my husband and didn’t have any children at thirtysix was pretty tricky. He was one of 16! Girls are up for marriage and kids as soon as they have their period, with producing as many offspring as possible is the main goal of their people to make their tribe bigger and stronger. It was enlightening, and I’ve never felt like I’ve been in a society so far removed from my own. That night I slept in a hammock, everyone else was inside and I was all alone outside, with my guide forewarning me to take care of the jaguars….

Day four am early start in drizzle, but the sun came out and within forty minutes we were at the base of the lost city with the 1263 stone stairs climbing up to the top. The city itself is now just foundations, and much is still undercover entirely. It’s no Machu Picchu, but how remote it is, and we were the only ones there the day we went was pretty cool. And the history of the city is fascinating also, only being rediscovered in 1972. We spent a few hours around the site and the guides gave us plenty more info, including the unfortunate pillaging of the gold and treasure after its discovery, which was all melted down and sold off and also about the 2003 kidnapping of 8 tourists for 3 months. We returned to camp for lunch and then walked back to camp two for the night.

Day five was an early start, and it was a glorious sunny morning. Luckily this spured us on as we had to walk back what we covered in day one and two. We’d been so lucky as we’d never even walked in rain once, and this held out for us on our final day also. The last few hours were pretty tough, and the tough incline we’d done on day one was not much funner going down, but knowing we got to swim at the bottom got us through it! My photos don’t really do the scenery any justice, but being in the jungle was beautiful. I also lucked out massively…only 5 mosquito bites! A few others were less lucky. And if I hadn’t been a plonker and gone swimming on day three with my shoes on, I would have got through the trek with dry feet. Our guides were brilliant, the food plentiful and good, and we had a great group. I’m so glad I manned up and did this trek, and its been good to get something under my belt before Machu Picchu next month. The only downside was an old back pain seemed to have resurge…..

A 3.30am start saw me on a plane from Panama City to Bogota and a massive change in climate, which I was more than glad of. Having had to get a 25$ taxi from downtown Panama City to the airport as it was so early I was damned if I was going to do the same at Bogota so was a good girl and the long cheap regular bus in the midst of the commuter traffic to the downtown area of Canderleria. I was still checked in and back in bed by 10am for some extra kip before going on a snoop round the area at midday. At first glance Bogota is not a beautiful city, but its got quite a bit to offer, and the old town area I was staying in was charming enough, with plenty of edgy students smoking joints through apples on street corners. I’d been told the Gold museum was a MUST, so I headed over late avo. And all though impressive, it’s still a museum…..I’ve learnt I just don’t enjoy them full stop. I’ll keep trying though.

Next day I jumped on the city bike tour, which was great! We went all over the city to some very non touristic areas including the red light district. Colombia has legalised prostitution, but only in classified zones, and in those areas prostitutes can stand barely clad on the streets. We also went to one of the larger markets in the city and got to try some of the different fruits colombia is famed for. I consider myself pretty worldly on food, but I think I tried at-least eight new fruits I’d never seen before, my favourite Magostini. One our stops was to a cemetery were we had a group of kids perform a rap, not my thing normally but they were pretty good; naturally the youngest cutest kid then went round with cap in hand and I think they make a pretty penny tapping up the bike tours that way..good for them. After our tour a bunch of us went to a very typical ie touristy cafe/restaurant for a local speciality of hot chocolate with cheese in, accompanied by cheese bread. It wasn’t terrible, but it didn’t blow my mind, I think it would be better with a mature cheddar.

That night our newly formed group headed to a huge restaurant/club an hour outside Bogota. Two if the guys comped us girls the transport there and the cost of most of our drinks and dinner as it was pretty pricey! It was like nowhere else I’ve ever been, a Disney land for adults; spectacularly decorated, a lot of salsa, food and drinks. The crowd was more after work, and taking clients out than my normal back packer scene, and I probably wouldn’t have chosen to go there but it was great fun for a night with a fun crowd. And very generous of the lads to.

My plan the next day was to do not much and then take a night bus to Coffee country, but the altitude played my hangover a little harder than anticipated so decided to stay another night, and did manage at least to head up a cable car to check out the city at night….it’s amazing how even an average looking city can look stunning in the lights at night!

Following morning I was up early and on my bus to Solento. I was so excited to get back on comfy buses, and the bus itself did not disappoint. Wifi, loads of space, own tv monitor with choice of dubbed films. However the journey itself was a bit of a shocker, the first two hours was stop start stop start with Mister lead foot, the following five hours were twisting up and around the hills and hairpin turns, and while the scenery was beautiful I was so glad I hadn’t night-bus it as I would have had zero sleep!

A short local bus connection I arrived in Solento, a very pretty small town set in the middle of the coffee region and near a national park. It was cool to be there on the weekend as it was full of local townies, and the main square was rammed of revellers on the Saturday night. It’s real cowboy country with men rocking ponchos and machetes on every corner, I felt like I was at home with the flagrant drunkedness everywhere. I tried the local specialty of Patacon, flattened deep fried plantain loaded with chicken, meat, cheese, chutney and sour cream…damn tasty!

Sunday we headed out for my first trek in a long time! To the Cocora valley, which is famous for its sixty foot palm trees. We tried to take a short cut and ended up heading vertically up a small mountain and back round the other side, the hardest route we could have found. The scenery was quite surreal with super high palms towering over meadows. It wasn’t a very hard hike, but as I hadn’t really done any hiking in my three months in Central America the legs felt it! On our return to town we treated ourselves to another Patacon with grilled trout, again D-Lish! That evening we headed to a real locals bar….full of every backpacker in town! We played the local game of Teoh; this involves throwing heavy metal discs from six metres away at a slanted pile of clay aiming for a circle in the middle which has gunpowder attached to it, when it explodes you’ve won. I managed it three times aided with an illegal overhead throw and a few shots of the Colombian spirit Aguardiente. A less sweet sambuca, fairly pleasant.

Following day I took another coffee tour, by the chap who owned the hostel we were staying in. Again really informative, and the tour ended with a cup of freshly roasted, ground and brewed coffee. It’s beautiful countryside surrounding the town, and after a quick last look round the town it was time for another longish bus ride. This time to Medellin. Again I was glad not to have taken the nightbus as up through more hills and windy roads it was impossible to sleep. I had my first police check, when they boarded asking for ID, checking everyone’s bags really thoroughly and finally a very intimate pat down, luckily by female officer in my case…what could I possibly be hiding in the underwire if my bra?

Medellin is famous for several things, the hometown and death place of Pablo Escobar, its all year spring weather, and over the last twenty years has being winning world awards for its invocation for its transport system and the successful rebirth of the now modern city that has clawed is way back from one of the most dangerous places to live in the eighties.

Of course with the spring comes the rain, and I arrived in a huge downpour at night. I started early(ish) the next day, to try and make the most of the sun. The metro is indeed pretty impressive, and all entirely overland. I checked out the botanical garden, which I was slightly cautious of as I’d met an Ozzie girl in Solento who’d been mugged in broad day light there. You couldn’t imagine a more safe environment with primary school kids on class trips, and people running and walking. The gardens themselves were far more impressive than I’d have imagined with a huge wooden ceiling area suspended thirty metre high , where they have free yoga amongst other activities. And a decent amount of fauna and fauna including massive lizards. I’d planned to do some further exploring but an imminent deluge chased me into the one of the huge shopping malls for the afternoon where I replaced a couple of “essentials”..some habits did hard…

That evening I was “forced “by a crew of young Brits in my hostel to get involved with some drinking games, usually I try and avoid such lowly hijinks; but once in a while its just good fun….we left the hostel after causing an inordinate amount of noise for a local Salsa Club, apparently there was a very a good band…all though the rum, red wine, tequila, beer mix left me devoid of that memory and few others. The next morning we’d signed on for a free walking tour, which somehow three of us still managed to attend.

This tour was only started four months ago by a local born and bred chap from the city, its now number one activity on trip advisor for the city and he’s booked out for everyday. I was so glad I worked through the hangover to go, it gave me such a different insight to the city, and understanding a little of the cities’ history over the centuries and in particular the last forty years gave real context to the remarkable rebirth of the city. Perhaps nowhere else in Colombia exemplifies just how far the country has come over the last twenty years. Not to say there is not work to be done, but I felt safe throughout my travels in Colombia. Architecturally the city won’t set you heart on fire, and yes now it is a well oiled modern city regarding its infrastructure and amenities, but its still a city of soul. For many travellers passing through Medellin is seen just a party town between Bogota and the Coast, and good palace to spot a decent amount of plastic surgery. But there’s definitely some substance beneath the glossy new surface.

Our guide told us just how horrendous some of the days were in the eighties, were in the same week of November 1985 as the siege of the Judicial Palace Siege in Bogota there was a volcano eruption in the north of the country which killed 23000 people. He told us how because of that much and frequent bad news the only way for the everyday people to continue with their lives was to forgot to a point. And goes someway to explain the psyche of the Colombia people with the country ranking very high in “happiest country in the world”. It’s not all roses, and like so many other countries I’ve visited in Latin America the gap between the rich and poor is obviously prevalent on any street corner.

My final morning in the city I took the metro, which included a metro cable-car ride as part of the system up for a viewpoint of the city. The cable car is one of two that directly links two previously “no go” areas with the cities transport system, quite a maverick move and one of the reasons Medellin won city of the year 2012. Providing the residents of these areas with easy access to get around their city, to help with commuting times either for work or studies. They’ve also built new state of the art study facilities within these areas. The view of the whole city we’d headed up for was not great the day we went, but seeing that side if the city and efforts to incorporate the society into the wings old of the city was far more interesting anyway.

The one thing I’d wanted to do, but didn’t sign up in time for was to go on a Pablo Escobar tour, which I’d been told was excellent. You can’t do it all.

I headed off that evening to the airport to fly to Cartagena up on the coast, enjoyed an average glass of Sauvignon Blanc in the Avianca VIP lounge..making the most of my airport lounge pass whilst its still valid courtesy of the Ex!