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After a teary and hungover 6am departure from Phoebe in Quito, Arthur and I made our way to the bus station to begin our fairly disorganised attempt to cross the border to Colombia. Our first bus took us to Tulcan, where we then caught a taxi to immigration, queued forever while some douchebag hippy strummed the same string on his guitar for an hour (no, not Arthur), then casually walked across a bridge into Colombia. Got my final passport stamp of the trip (I promise Mum!) then we caught another taxi to Ipiales where we naively thought a nice big air conditioned tourist bus would be waiting to drive us to Cali in a timely fashion. Obviously not; our minibus didn't arrive in Cali until 3am, perfect timing to see people returning from the nightlife we'd missed out on! Oh well, there's always tomorrow.
We stayed in El Viajero in San Antonio, the bohemian part of town, which we explored a bit before getting our first Colombian coffee and some heavenly donuts off a street vendor. This gave us none of the energy we needed for our midday salsa lesson, which was more of a crowded and incredibly sweaty zumba class! The mirror had to be wiped clear every 5 minutes and the floor was so slippery with sweat it was like salsa on ice. At least we got the moves down, ready for the club later.
After cooling off in the pool (hostels have pools in Colombia because it is SO HOT) we took a (sweaty) stroll to the centre, round the main plaza and park, and then back to San Antonio with it's colourful buildings and cobbled streets. We stopped in a red wine bar to practise our skills from Mendoza but they didn't have any red wine, so after a tangy glass of white we went in search of somewhere to eat. Found an awesome rooftop restaurant that overlooked the neighbourhood and the mountains in the distance, but the waitress was insane and insisted we told her what we wanted before she'd give us the menu. Carne then please!
That evening we joined some girls at the hostel who were being taken to a salsa club by some locals. We turned up at this club Living and realised it was a little out of our price range, but the Colombians ordered rum for the table so obviously it would be rude not to stay a while. We showed off our new moves on the dancefloor, a sea of boob, bum and (apparently) ab implants, and I was pleased to see that slut dropping is just as common in Colombia as it is in Essex. After finishing our rum we did a runner and asked the nearest taxi driver to take us somewhere better. We asked him if he dances salsa he said "of course, I'm from Cali!" and took us to Zaperoco. Much more our scene it was small, sweaty, and I got free Sambuca shots! We partnered up for the rest of the night with locals who danced and laughed with us at our keen attempts to salsa.
Next morning we went on a hunt for coffee to cure our hangovers but being a Sunday everything was shut! Except for the zoo, so that's where we went. It was a really beautiful zoo actually, but full of children how annoying. Arthur's favourite were the llamas which I can't understand as we definitely saw about a thousand in Bolivia and Peru. Maybe it was the hangover. I was able to drag Arthur away from the llamas in time for our budget flight to Medellin (cheaper than the 18 hour bus, amazing!).
We picked the cheapest hostel we could find in the Zona Rosa, Lleras Park Hostel, which turned out to be basically just a treehouse with walls and ceilings made of cardboard, and a completely insane receptionist to boot. Arthur also met a guy staying there who freely offered the information that he'd stabbed a guy 3 times and went to jail in Nicaragua, apparently he was really nice though - okay Arthur. The area was really lovely, a plaza lined with palm trees and, more importantly, bars and restaurants that promised 3 for 1 cocktails, who doesn't need 3 cocktails?!
Our first day we went on the Pablo Escobar tour. He was the king of Medellin's drug cartel, but also a bit of a Colombian Robin Hood - mostly a tyrant though. The tour took us to one of his first 'offices' in the city, soon to be renovated into apartment blocks since it's bombings by the Cali cartel. Ironically, another of his buildings was recently turned into a police station, at least they can laugh about it now. Next they took us to his grave, bit creepy but what can you do. Some idiot from Boston actually did a line of cocaine off his grave, what a dick. Sorry, but really?!?! The devastation his cartel caused the country is not something to celebrate.
Finally they took us to what they called the Escobar museum, which actually turned out to be Pablo's brothers house, Roberto Escobar, who was just chilling in the front garden on a deck chair. It was also more of a shrine than a museum, with photos of Pablo at all stages of life lining the walls. I especially liked the photos of him on holiday with his family outside the White House whilst 'on the run' from police in Colombia, and the photos of him and his brother posing next to their 'wanted' posters in broad daylight.
We then had a nice awkward photo session with Roberto Escobar, who is blind and quite deaf since he received a letterbomb in prison, still managed to have a good stroke of my arms though! He also claimed he's got the patent for the preventative AND the cure for HIV - seemed to get more deaf the more questions we asked about that - one can only hope!
We returned to Lleras Park and got stuck in to 2 for 1 burgers which were amazing and 3 for 1 margaritas which were even better. Later we met Andres (who Phoebe and I went whale watching with in Montanita) at the Irish pub on the plaza and he told us all about his home town of Medellin, about his new farm in the hills and the dome house he's building, and about how nice the b****es (beaches) are in Colombia. We planned to meet him at the metro station the next day so he could give us a tour of the beautiful city.
After the initial struggle of getting through the metro barriers we found Andres and he joined us on the short ride to the centre, pointing out significant buildings and sights along the way. We took a wander round Parque Barrio, stopping for coffee and local fruits on the way, and saw some beautiful churches and transgender prostitutes. We ate a traditional Colombian set lunch in a cool blues cafe in Parque Periodista before making our way back to the metro. The metro turns into a cable car on one of the lines so it can climb the steep valley up to the poorer neighbourhoods, and the views from up there are incredible. The city is mostly redbrick and it sprawls out over the green valley floor as far as you can see, climbing upwards in some places where the redbrick turns to colourful almost shanty houses with corrugated roofs.
Once at the top we took another cable car that climbs up and over the valley ridge, across the protected forest that covers the top and all the way to Parque Arvi. We sneakily joined a tour group as Andres knew the guy and went on a little hike through the park, past waterfalls and streams. Arthur bought a huge tub of taffy which I then found out is made of cow cartilage, yum!
We said goodbye to our wonderful tour guide and new friend and made our way back to Lleras Park for 3 for 1 Long Island slushies. Sufficiently tipsy we took a taxi to the salsa club Papayona, and I practised all the Spanish skills Arthur has taught me to the cab driver. The club was great, packed full of crazy good salsa dancers and an awesome live band. We took another opportunity to get lessons from the locals, Arthur danced with the tiniest girl in the world and I danced with a guy with the longest rat tail in the world, but he made me look like a pro! The club got a bit weird at around 2am, the only people left were old men and some very young, very flirty girls so we left very quickly after that.
Next morning, after eating at our favourite breakfast cafe, we headed for the airport for another budget flight, this time to Cartegena on the coast.
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