Leaving Colombia Attempt #4

We woke up at 4:30 by a voice shouting in the distance. The word "Pasto" triggered this internal alarm. We got up from our very un-soft beds, grabbed our bags and ran off to the terminal. In the rain, I ordered a coffee with sugar and 2 buñuelos (some round bread ball, made with cheese and deep-fried). For a coffee without sugar I ad to go to the next stool, where it was custom made for this strange outlander that drinks coffee black. I gave the coffee to Mar who was already waiting in the goods compartment of the pick-up truck. Fortunately the bench was fitted with a soft comfortable cushion because the road was everything but comfortable. It led us over a dangerous, bumpy road and our toes started freezing as the fog made it pretty chilly but prevented our fear from kicking in as we didn't realize the conditions we found ourselves in.
In Pasto we hoped to find my bank card waiting at the office of Servientrega, the Colombian Express Post. However, after a call with the hostal in Bogotá for the reference number, we learned that the card hadn't even been sent. Next day, they lost track of the card. Later they found out that the person who was going to send it, was ill and had the card with him. The day after that, nobody was in possession of 2 Eur necessary to send the card (pay on receive wasn't possible). When they finally send it, we found out that it takes two days for the card to arrive and unfortunately the office was closed on saturday, sunday and monday was a holy day, so all official instances were also closed on that day.
Another fine example of the impossibility of planning in Colombia. Instead of passing through Pasto we got stuck here for 7 nights. The morning of the 23th we finally crossed the border without any further problems. My passport in Colombia was valid till the 24th (and it would have costed me a fine of 700 000 Pesos if I had crossed the border after the valid date of my passport....)

Leticia Intermission

For several reasons, Puerto Asis is a dead end until we get certain things done that we can't perform here so we leave for Pasto with the bus from 16h.  Unfortunately we find out in Mocoa that no bus to Pasto went today nor will go, so we need to stay there for the night. Twice unfortunately, because we hoped to spend the night in the bus, saving us the cost of a room. As soon as we get off the bus, a pushy person tries to sell us a ticket to all places in the country and a room. The price he names us (5000 pesos) convinces us to check it out and we decide to stay in the hostel for a final price of 7000 pesos for the both of us (that is 23000 pesos cheaper than what we mostly expect to find). The hostel, which is basically two floors the size of a big room, divided by wooden byobus, making these the size of a bed + 15 cm, is right opposite the Terminal, which is very convenient as they tell us that sometimes a minivan shows up at 5 am going to Pasto. If this is the case tomorrow, we will shout through the window, grab our stuff and jump into the minivan...

Finally on the move again

After they fired me from my role as manager/cook/waiter/dish washer from Restaurant Amadeus (aka Restaurant Fatima) due to the fact that I renamed it Restaurant Amadeus, but primarily because I wore no shoes, I decided not to stay in Bogotá much longer. Unfortunately I was waiting for my bank card that had been stolen a few weeks earlier on a drunk night in a concert somewhere. The fourth Monday after my new card had been sent, I decided to wait no longer and made a transfer through Western Union from my credit card so I had some cash to pay back all the loans I had made and I was ready to take off.
Mar, who had never been in the south of her country was excited to join me (although she threatened me that she didn't want to wait around any longer, which is one of the reasons why I decided not to wait for my card any longer either). Her abuelita (grandmother) and her dad were not that happy with her decision as for the upcoming elections this region wasn't the safest because it is in the south that the FARC (Fuerzas Armada Revolucionarias de Colombia) reside. In 2000 the FARC closed down all connections to a village called Puerto Asis and drove the population to near starvation to force the government to review their agenda (which they didn't).
It's in this town, that's a connection for goods and people with Leticia, a village far into the woods, that we are waiting now. Waiting for the elections to pass, because no administrative services are being performed and although the danger is as usual exaggerated, it is still safer to stay in the town than being on the road to avoid contact with the FARC. We want to get to Leticia, which is only reachable by plane or by boat, in the cheapest possible way. A passenger boat takes about 15 days over the Putumayo, the river that ends up in the Amazon, which is where Letitia is situated, on the border with Brazil and Peru. The Putumayo meanders its way going in and out Ecuador, but that doesn't mean that my passport will be considered valid when I arrive after its valid date, the 24th of March at the border, so I will have to take actions to extend it again before I set off to Leticia.
Yesterday we went to the harbour where goods are being loaded (by hand) on the pontons to ask if any of these sailors is willing to take us aboard to work for our transit. Their eyes and reactions tell us that this is a sheer impossibility as we need a marine-working permit, but a little later we find out that it's also a matter of trust and that we have to stick around and get to know some people to make the transit easier. Nevertheless we already start dreaming from spending our time on one of these boats as it slides through the marvelous rainforest where we'll expect to be surprised and thrilled by the environment...

Mushi Mushi

Villa De Lleyva, a city about for hours from Bogota is famous for its magic mushrooms. After rainfall you can scout for them in the mountains.
Pieter, a friend that I met in Bogota, visited the place and came back with some.
On friday afternoon we met in the hostel with 4 other people that also wanted to try these mushrooms.
We made some tea from the mushrooms, drank it on the roof and decided to walk to the park some 40 minutes walk away.
Only after 10 minutes of leaving the house we started feeling the effect already, so when we passed the first park, we were eager to sit down and take our shoes off.
We sat together in the park, laughing, jumping, running, until the sun started to set down.
Two of the girls wanted to go to the bathroom somewhere, but it seemed such a mission in that frame of mind that it took them looong to make a decision.
The biggest building of Bogotá towered over our place where we were sitting (we already called it 'home') and the numerous toilets on all the floors of the building became the subject of the conversation. We formulated a vague plan to sneak to the top of the building and although nobody believed we would make it, we started walking towards it anyway.
At the bottom of the Colpatria Tower, we found some fast-food restaurants where we released ourselves from digested fluids.
The tower was of course a tourist attraction, being the tallest one, so we paid 3000 pesos, left our beers behind and took the elevator to the top.
As usual the top wasn't really the top. There was one floor more where helicopters (one at the time) could land.
Security wasn't too tight, so I climbed over the fence that secured the stairs and ended up all alone on the landing pad. The sight that was revealed to me was absolutely stunning.
Instead of the fences blocked view, I had a 360° view on Bogotá and for the first time I had an impression on the size of the city. As far as I could see, there where streets stretching out in all directions away from the mountains. Little later Pieter also joined me on the roof and when Holly also arrived, we smoked a joint on the roof and tried to convince the others to come up too. Apparently they were still too spaced out to do the climb.
Half an hour later, we went back down (security had discovered that we were up there by now) and joined again with the rest of the group. When we came out of the building, in 7th Avenue, the street was freed of cars and lots of artists were displaying their skills along the walk down.

Ayuahasca #2

Building Community Place

During the two weeks that we were building the community place 'Arco Iris', we experienced lots of misunderstandings and tension, although we were living in a beautiful green environment. Everyday we woke up and took a shower under the waterfall before we prepared a wonderful breakfast with lots of fruit, bread and coffee.

Taita

Just before you arriving at Arco Iris, first you cross the property of Taita Don José. Don José is a Chaman who prepares Ayuahasca. It's a process that takes 6 days. The first day I decided not to drink Jahé because I thought it was too expensive, certainly because last time I didn't experience nothing at all but some nausea and diarrhea. The next day lots of people were present at the Taita's. Amongst them was also another much younger Taita. He asked me if I wanted to have some rapé. I had never heard of it so I agreed to give it a try. Rapé is a powder made from in the shadow dried and pulverized tobacco leaves. The taita told me to open my mouth and then he took a little tube and blew some of the rapé in my nose. A hefty burning feeling filled my head and tears ran out of my eyes. After a few minutes I started sneezing and with every blow my head cleared out a little more until I felt liberated.

Then the taita looked at the many wounds I had gathered over the last few weeks and I asked him why I kept on hurting myself. Was there some mental/spiritual connection ? So he asked me if I had been drinking Jahé and he said he was going to talk to Don José to arrange something for me.

The First Night

That night I drank the first cup of Jahé (which tastes absolutely horrible). After not even 15 minutes the nauseous feeling was too strong and soon I emptied my stomach by vomiting. About 1 hour later I drank again a cup ad this time I was able to keep the Jahé in my stomach. After a while I felt a nice but strange feeling, but it only lasted for 5-10 minutes. The rest of the night I was between waking and sleeping waiting for another cup too take. While waiting I probably fell asleep when the third cup was due, so I woke up in the morning a little disappointed.

The Second Night

This night everyone already left, so it was just Lukas, Me and Mar. (And 2 other people in a tent, but they weren't going to drink). The taita told us to smoke some parvatti first to allow the Jahé easier access to our minds. This time I was able to keep the Jahé in my body/stomach for 20 minutes. After a while I started looking for Mar to ask her if I should drink a second cup immediately thereafter. I found here in the woods where she was making strange noises and strange movements. She said: “Jahé is in you. You don't need another cup.”

That made me a little agitated so she said to call the taita if we wanted to drink more. We shouted a few times his name, but he seemed to be sound asleep. Again I went back to the woods and asked Mar to help us out. When we managed to wake up the taita he said to make a fire and then we could drink.

In the mean time it has gotten really dark. When there's session with lots of people, candles are lit everywhere, but now for the three of us this wasn't the case... Lukas drank and when it was my turn, I answered the taita's questions about how much I felt from it. In response he took a jerry can and refilled the bowl with Jahé and stirred it thoroughly. I nearly couldn't see anything, but for the Taita, being almost blind, it didn't really matter if there was light or not.

I finally took the cup from his hands and drank. The substance wasn't nearly as well mixed as should, so I swallowed some hard pieces which tasted even worse than the first time. I lay down on the mattress that we put there for the night and closed my eyes. When I felt nauseous again, I stood up to go for a walk and noticed that of the campfire we had made were only a couple of glowing sticks left. I stirred up the fire and decided to go to the forest.

I didn't really know what to do, but to relax I started doing some Yoga. After not such a long time I still felt nauseous and I walked out of the woods, into the starry night. Suddenly it was like the nausea 'tilted' from a vertical to a horizontal position and I realized that the nausea was the Jahé. I just had to allow the Jahé to take over my mind and not doing that results in nausea. I felt how my brain stopped processing and a warm feeling came like a soft storm in my head. For a brief moment the whole scene was set in a bright light and I could see everything clearly. The experience invoked my curious mind again and the thinking stopped the experience. I tried to get back but trying is exactly what doesn't help so I got a little frustrated as I couldn't get my ego out of the way.

I walked back to the others and when I found Mar, I suddenly felt a connection between everyone and everything. I held Mar in my arms and told her that I saw now that she was me and I was here. She was very happy that I finally experienced the Jahé after so many attempts.

Then I laid down on the mattress again where, in the mean time, Ricky, one of the dogs was laying down too. I went into a dreamy state and I heard Mar somewhere in the distance making whirring, funny sounds. I have a weird experience of connection with everything, the guitar, the dog, the taita, mar, Lukas, Father, Mother, Sister ,Brother, Brother-in-Law and Tristan.

I get up and again try too hard to get the feeling so I get frustrated and decide to get the guitar and play some music. I can't find it at first in the dark and suddenly realize I'm acting in a rush because I'm afraid the effect will wear off before I experience it fully. Then we go up to the taita's 'room' because Lukas wants to drink more. There we find the other people that are camping there sitting with the taita around a candle. There smoking a pipe so we sit down and join them. I feel the effect of the Jahé in a wonderful way of observing my reality. I start playing guitar and it's like the strings and the tabs emit light. The people in the circle start cheering and one person says :”He's making the guitar sing !”. When I hear this I become proud and instantly I loose the touch because my ego gets in the way. I decide that I'm not worth the guitar at that moment so I put it away.

Little later I notice that Lukas is waiting to drink more, since he isn't experiencing any of the things we are experiencing. The taita tells us again to make fire and then he will come down.

Lukas drinks and the taita asks me if I want to drink more. At first I say yes, but then I feel how the Jahé is in me, is always in me and I doubt for a long time. Eventually I decide not to drink.

Next thing I remember is that I see a 'plane' of true reality where we know everything. It feels like shedding your skin and become 'in the light' of this true reality. Even with my eyes closed I can see everyone standing in a crystal clear white light. It costs me some struggle (to let go) when I enter this plane and Taita and Mar cheer when I reach that 'level' (although I'm not moving and not making any noise. The next thing I know is that the dog next to me, the floor underneath and Mar become the same thing as me. Suddenly Mar is next to me and we embrace and kiss like angels. We tell each other numerous times we're sorry and then we laugh and we sing.

I feel like all that exists in reality, is me/part of me, put there (by me) to show me the way to the light (and you and everyone else).

I laugh because I've always known that we're one, that everything is one, but I keep on forgetting every three seconds because I/We love to play this game and I/We love to forget. I realize that distance does not exist and feel everyone I know present, like everyone I want is there, that moment. The material world is nothing but an extension of energy. I can sense the whole range of elders that came before me.

When the experience faded a way, a wonderful clean feeling stays with me. I know now that Jahé is always in me (always has been), but it's hard to get to that stage without the help of the plant. Still the memory is fading but right now it feels like something has changed forever.

Because I know I know

I know you know

You know I know

We know that we know

Thy Tsjee

That day I woke up with the sound of the river. Laura had already left. I walked from my tent up to the van where a big pot of coffee was boiling on the wood fire. We drank it with Pamelawhich is a solid block of raw sugar boughtpretty much from the source. There is plenty of such a place where “Kania” (sugar cane) is set into a rolling press to float into a series of metal containers under which the fire is booming. Each container contains a more brown version of the previous bigger container until the smallest one holds a thick dark brown syrupy substance, which they mold into cubes during the cooling period of the now becoming still hot, delicious, sweetness called Panela. So we use a knife to gnaw some pieces off to put in our coffee. And we drink. And enjoy. When we finish doing that, we continued to do some more nothing. 2 of the girls start making weed zapatos, a local dish from only oil, flower baked in oil. They make thin discs and we fry them well through. This gramar is shit and have also changed the tense, did you notice? Anyway, the zapatos (with weed) came with quacemole (with salt).


Alexi, a guy from France proposes to go for a swim and do some Ty Shee. Tai chi is an 'eastern somewhere'- meditation, relaxation technique whereby you breathe in and out deeply and slowly while doing postures/ making movements referring to water (Like Bruce Lee's water).


Doing this in a the cold at first, but little later sensationally re-energizing water flow made this a mystical experience (helped a hand bythe zapatos. When we came back we did some more nothing....

Bus 666

From then on my/our average speed would increase a bit...

Around 9 pm another bus comes along through the center of Isnos. This bus is full as well, but the driver agrees to seat us in the pass way for an illegal off-the-record one-time group-reduction/inconvenience allowance.

1 hour later I start to realize that the abominable state that the road is in is not gonna get any better soon. My body already aches everywhere from bumping up and down and is cramped from the tiny space it is crammed in. At a certain point the road is so bad that people fly out of their seats. Many of the passengers start yelling and whistling for a moment as a complaint and one woman in the back is nearly in tears as she yells at the driver that she has a baby in her lap. From then on the driver takes these points a little bit easier and the trips recedes to it's normal bumpy character. 10 mins later the bus stops and 2 mins later the engine switches off. We're happy to be able to get out of the bus to stretch our painful bones and some 5 m away from the bus we smoke a joint while joking about the driver being a pirate (he has no adjudant like all the others) and about how this was supposed to happen due to the bus' call sign: UJF666.

The driver and some other guy tinkle a bit with the engine and manage to start the engine over new, but it makes a loud rattling sound (supposedly from the water-cooling fan). The engine is switched off and the problem fixed. When walking back to the bus, I see through the front grill that a fan (supposedly from the water-cooling fan) is not running. An hour later this happens again, which makes me happy, as I was in a far less comfortable position as before and thus desperately watching the public speedometer lingering between 6km/h and 22km/h at the most.

Again the problem is fixed in 15-20 mins. We stop a little later again to eat a piece of bread with some unbranded, white cheese and a cup of hot Panela, company service.

Two other stops (problems with air-pressure) and three hours later we climb out of the bus at a place that appears to be in the middle of nowhere. It's 3 o'clock at night so everything appears that way. A local that helped the bus driver to some more air points us in the right direction and tells us it's an hour walk to the hot springs and we're on our way.

Average Speed

Finally San Augustin saw enough of me (and so did Laura). I take a colectivo to "la cruz" a road-crossing where the bus for Popayan is supposed to stop. The crossing runs uphill and contains one building which is a store/pub. As usual we're surrounded by green mountains. Groups of people are sitting in the sun waiting for a bus, a taxi, a colectivo or a motorbike to go to various destinations. I chat a little with different people as they arrive and get on their desired vehicle. About two hours later a bus arrives for Popayan, but no seats are left. As I ask the driver, he tells me there is other buses coming. An hour later two taxis drop off 5 more people exactly on the spot where I'm sitting at. They tell me they're going to Coconuco, a place about 2 hours from Popayan and they ask me if I want to come along. The next bus to Popayan also has no seats for us (since now we're six) so we take a taxi to Isnos, a little village 15km further. (I've been here before when I did a tour to see the Archeological park and some waterfalls). A little later, we're waiting for another bus in the centre of Isnos and it has been 5 hours since I left San Augustin. At this speed, I will be in Argentinia way before 2014...

San -doesn't let me go- Augustin

Some days after I had decided to go to Quito, I decide otherwise (since I'm still keeping Laura warm) and make a loose plan to go through the Amazon. Luc will come to Mocoa from Lima-airport (peru) over Quito (Ecuador) to Pasto (Colombia) with busses and no Spanish. Stefaan Geerts will probably be glad to help him a hand with directions since he's familiar with the area.
So I still have 5-6 days to spend in San Augustin. We are kind of kicked out our hostel because Laura's dog made a big mess in the room and the owner wasn't too happy with that. Earlier that day we passed upon a store that sells iglo's. We return to that store and for an hour try out the 3 models they have. One of them we know immediately that we don't want it as it is too small.
We camp an hour walk outside the village near the river, at a place called "la piscina", because it provides a natural place to swim. When we arrive we meet 2 travellers that we've met before in the hostal we stayed at. They're camping in a VW camper with two more people. All of them are native Spanish speakers (from Spain & Chili). We cook a delicious soup together with onions, carrots, potatoes, yuca, tomatoes and more. The meal is ready around midnight (as custom in Spain). After the meal, the Chilene and his Spanish girlfriend play some amazing music together with guitar, melodica and voice. (The melodica is a like a mini-piano that rests on your lap with a tube that you put in your mouth to supply it with air). The stars contribute to the atmosphere by throwing in some marvelous shooting stars.

San -Okay, I'll stay another day- Augustin

Another lovely village, slightly bigger than Salento and far more south.
The hostal is just a pretty as the village and is run by Mario, the loco hostal owner. The reputation about the best shower in South America being there, is not a lie.
The first morning we do a tour with a jeep (turns out to be a regular, 25 years old Renault) to visit the archeological museum which sucks, some maya-statues and tombes which lack explanation and some waterfalls from almost 400 resp 100 meters high (if I understood that well). The waterfall and the views are absolutely stunning, even for a by beauty numbed eye (that happens when you see so many beautiful things; you just stop appreciating). A small construction protrudes from the steep cliff, if you walk upon it you're litterally surrounded by the valley-walls.
The next day I decided to stay one day longer than planned and I joined Nathalie, Laura and Oren for a walk to a finca that Nathalie has bought and a swim in the nearby river afterwards. Moihikano and Patata, Laura's 9 weeks old and Nathalie's 2 weeks old pups climbed, tumbled and fell around us as the view changed with each turn, slope or hill we covered. After a brisk 2 hour walk we jumped onto the back of a jeep and continued on the dirt track (which also is the main road) for another 20 mins. At this point, only every 5 km or so a house or finca was visible, everything else was just trees, plants and animals.
The familie that lives in the finca was awaiting us when we arrived at the property. The finca is a poliered concrete plane with a wooden shed making 2 bedrooms, a kitchen and a veranda. Laura, who's dad is Chilene, started making a typical dish, so soon some pots were simmering on the wood-fuelled stove.
Then we took 2 machetes and strolled of towards the other side of the micro-valley to get wood. When we arrived at a waterfall and a wake to swim, it finally sank in what we were here to do. Of course I left my swimming pants in the house. The water was pretty cold, but after a while it became bearable and refreshing.
By the time we returned from getting the wood (which we didn't have), the man of the house fixed us a bag of approximately 50 gr weed for 5000 pesos (2€). It was, however, freshly picked, so we fast-dryed it in the wood-oven which was already warming up for the next stage of the meal. When we were finished making thin, round circles of dough, to be used to wrap around the meat and then put in the oven, it was starting to get dark. I try to ask how we were going to get back. Not that it mattered, but it is a civilised reaction, I guess, to always want to know what's happening next. Still I was taken by surprise to learn that we were staying for the night. Thus that meant sleeping with my lenses.
After the meal we talked a little bit (everyone laughed with my Spanish). One by one everyone went to bed. I kept Laura, the colombian girl warm at night because she was cold ;-)

The Science of Cryogenics

Travelling over longer distances in Colombia mostly happens at night. There are numerous companies providing this service and they try to make that as comfortable as possible. One way they do that is by using busses with comfortably soft seats that bends way backwards. The driver sits in a seperate compartiment so they can deep-freeze the passengers compartiment to make them enter a cryogenic state. This way the 16-hour trip passes mostly unnoticed for the passengers. At the destination they take all the blue, stiff body's out of the bus and put them on a big pile. In cold places the people in the center of the pile de-hybernate first, but they have to wait till the layers of people above them are defrosted and have awakened first.
Some people that often travel that way are missing a finger, a nose, an ear or any organs that protrude. The've broken off in the piling process (the craftsmen with the heftrucks don't always handle the load with the care prescribed.)
This morning I de-hybernated in Armeni...

Need for Speed (Above Ground 2)

Bogota's streets are litterally filled with busses in all sizes, ages and colours. The ratio busses cars is about 10 to 1 and they all drive like crazy. There aren't many busstops in the city so everyone flags down the bus they want to take wherever they're standing. Because of the heavy traffic and the speed, the busdriver will often fail to notice passengers that want to jump on the bus, so sometimes you have to get half accross the road, jumping up and down while waving your arms to get the drivers attention. The price is invariably 1200 pesos during the day and 1250 pesos at night, no matter if you travel from terminal to terminal (which takes up to 2 hours) or just one square. To know where the busses going you have to find the right neigbourhood on the signs in the front window which look a little like this:

GERMANIA

10 Cle y 7 K Candelaria

Galerias Cali

K 26

So to find the right bus you'll have to read all the signs quickly, hoping that your bus is not just overtaking all the other busses on the third lane, or if he is, that the driver notices you anyway after which he will dangerously swerve in front of the other busses to allow you to get in (if you still feel like it after watching the driver do that).
Because of the many accidents and deaths, now all the bus companies have to show statistics at the counter which say how many accidents/wounded/deaths they had last month and accumulative.
The alternative is taking a taxi, which is a lot more expensive and probably not a bit safer either as these drivers are just as loco...

How a/no camera changes your life

Well, not really... but somehow, seeing stunning views is directly associated with "take a picture !".
I guess from now on I'll have to work on my visualizing writing :-).

Last week I visited Salento, a little sleepy town (population 1500 ?) a good 8 hours busride from Bogota. It's located high in the mountains and you get there through curvy little roads that show you rough, green surroundings with the Colombian National Landmark, a palm tree that`s up to 35 meters high (the one you find on the 50.000 pesos bills). The view is so different from anything I've ever seen, not only because of the palm tree that tower high above all other vegetation, but also because there seem to be not one single plane that's very large. To my primitive geological understanding, it seems as these are very young hills.
The town itself is also constructed in the typical Calle/Carrerra square layout even when there`s only seven by seven streets. Because there is a fish-farm just up the river, you can get delicious fresh trout (trutcha) in every restaurant and when another traveller who came back here just to eat the fish insist on us coming along, we all end up in a nice little place and everyone orders a variation on the same main ingredient.
The centre of the village is a large square with some restaurants, a grocery-store and the police headquarters. All the buildings are painted in various colors, giving the whole square an almost fantasy-like appearance. From our hostel, called "The Plantation House" (even the locals use a Spanish pronounciation of the English name), there is a splendid view on the hills and I only have to walk 2 minutes down to feel completely surrounded by the birds, trees and ants (who's sting hurts).

Restricted Areas

You can't just walk everywhere in a city like Bogota. Some areas are to be avoided at all costs. Unfortunately there are no signs warning you when you are entering (or leaving) such an area. The city is structured just like an American / designed city. You have Calles (Streets) and Carrerras (Avenues). A helpfull person told me 17th,16th,15th,14th Avenue: Dodgy; 13th and lower: Don't go there... Great ! My hostel is in the 15th, so from 7 pm I stay inside and even during the day, the door is locked most of the time. It didn't look that dangerous to me though...
The second day I was there, I was attracted by a building on top of a nearby hill. The climb was so steep that they constructed a cable-lift with two cabins that hang almost vertically in the air. A stunning sight. I started to climb a couple of stairs but only after 10 m up, I was out of air, which surprised me since I've done may tracks before. Later I realized it must be lack of oxygen because of the altitude of the city. I was about to turn back when two guys walked past me and one said "Monserrate ?" which I figured, was the building on top of the hill. So, I anwered "¿Si, es lejos ?". They said "No !" so I started following them. Only after 10 meters, suddenly the guy in front of me turned around and said "Give me your money, mottafukka !" while they other one pointed a knife at me (he held it in a strange way though, with two of his fingers between the blade and its sheeting, so that, when it would fold, he would cut himself). So I took my wallet, first took out my bankcard and put in the pocket of my trousers and then handed over about 30.000 pesos. In the mean time the other guy took my backpack of me (I was so stupid to carry that around) which contained my laptop, my camera/phone/mp3 player/flashlight/alarm clock and my passport. The one guy had my backpack lying at his feet so I jumped forward and tried to grab my backpack in an attempt to run off with it, but I missed. Seeing that I was going to make trouble the guys started backing off and I started following them shouting to give my backpack back (I hoped to alarm other people and the police). The person with the knife threatened to throw stones at me, which he eventually did since I didn't let go of them. One heavy stone hit me in the knee and the other hit me at my ankle. Some people that were living there were watching the scene and I asked on of them what to do (he was an older guy and not likely to interfere). He told me to run down to get the police which I immediately did but by the time we came back, there was nog sign of them anymore, of course.
After searching for 1,5 hours, the police gave up and I went back to the hostel. A few hours later I started feeling dizzy in my head (I had a couple of scars from the knife) and I was afraid I might have gotten an infection from the knife. Apparently I also strained some muscle from my knee up to halfway my back, so I was limping like an old man through the hostel.
The owner arranged a friend of hers to go with me to the hostel where they desinfected the wounds and said everything else was ok (but why was I so stupid ?)...

Shades on, shades off; pants off, pants on...

The feeling that the two Finnish girls I was travelling with wanted to get rid of me, became more solid when we arrived at Bogota, the capital of Colombia (is it?). They met up with a friend they've already known from their previous visit and they didn't even try to see if there was a place to sleep for me too. Somehow glad I was on my own again I found my way into the center of the city in a hostel called "Hospedaje Cacique Sugamuxi". Everytime someone asks me where I'm staying at, I blank out at trying to remember this dragon of a name. It's significantly colder here. It put on my long pants and even a long sleeved T-shirt for the first time in 4 months. It's no surprise as the city lays about 2.300 m above sea-level.
Everyone here has a cell phone, but no-one ever has credit. Some smart-ass Colombians quickly made a business out of this and sell minutes on the streets. Walking around with a big sign, sitting down at a temporary stool or in a permanent place, they have several cell phones secured with chains where you can make calls from. It's a funny sight when people use their own phone to retrieve the phone number to type this in the "public" one.

Drifting

"Have we moved closer to Venezuela ?" I asked. Yesterday we had arrived in this little beach village "Taganga" after coming from Cartagena, the hottest city in the Americas.
"I don't know", came the answer. I remembered passing through Barranquilla, so it must be. The busride, which was said to last for 3 hours, which was then extended by a passenger to 6 hours and later corrected by the bus attendant to 1h20 more than the current duration (which was 3 hours), lasted 5 hours so we arrived around 9 pm in "La Martha", the bigger city about 10 mins from here.
Now, seated on the beach, I decide to go for a swim and plunge in the warm but cooling, flat, pearl-blue ocean water. Trying to by as hydradynamic (as in aerodynamic) as possible I swim with slow, long strokes and I enjoy the water, softly swirling away from my body as a massage o so gently. Drifting backwards I slow down my breathing, bobbing up and down as I a breath in... and out...
(I can't really drift, my feet sink :-) )
Responding to my sinking feet after holding still, I arch my back and head backwards to make a perfect bow. Through my closed eyes a very subtle gradient of red and orange fills my vision in a total, all encapsulating manner. Holding my breath I sink and release all the tension in my body. I drift a few seconds with my arms pointing down, my knees and head slightly bend and in an utter relaxed state. Next I fold my hands over my now contracted knees and I touch them with my nose. The gradients in my sight change to a less brighter but still radiating deep blue with a hint of purple. The swirling water make me loose all sense of direction but the pressure in my ears tell me I'm still sinking. Gently I touch the bottom, still in crouched position and with a soft push from one of my feet I rise slowly trying to breach the surface. Shortly after I recognize the pressure raising anew, I touch ground again. This time I push harder and I stretch my body fullout. I Swim closer to the coast until the water level reaches my armpits. While still a little dizzy, I look at my feet and wonder how clear the water is, when I white plastic spoon drift 10 cm in front of me from the left to the right, followed by a condom that, in it's inflated state, could be mistaken for a deep-sea jelly fish of some kind. In the same 5 m radius I can also see a peacefully floating bag of chips, a beautiful blue plastic bag and some empty coke bottles...

Rice and Shine

I was surrounded by water and forest and I loved it. One of the two native Indians was lazily gazing across the water while the other steered the engine-powered praw merely in the right direction. He pointed to the other side of the river towards "La Palma", a village some 2 km away. After 2 hours and some forks, the river became a whole lot smaller and more shallow. The propeller from the boat's engine clogged up a number of times because more and more water-vegetation made navigating difficult. Eventually we sat foot on land and the children that lived in "La Marea" came running from all over the village to see the gringos arriving.
Just like the two Emberos (one of the 7 different tribes spread throughout Panama) that awaited us in Puerto Kimba, a little harbour far into the jungle of Panama, they were dressed in a traditional manner. That meant that they dressed in a single piece of cloth to cover their genitals, wearing necklaces crossed over their chest and painted in tribal paintings from the cheekbones down to their feet. The women and the kids all wanted to be a helping hand and took the few ounces off luggage out of our hands so we strolled empty handed, followed by a stream of people through the village. Along the way we looked upon many huts built on poles 1,5 two 2,5 meters high (in the rainy season the whole village floods). Little eyes peered at our appearance which seemed to be so odd that many little hands were sucked by many little mouths. When we cheerfully said "Hola !" to everyone, nobody seemed to response which gave us the impression that they didn't speak any Spanish.
Later we heard from the chief of the village that the opposite was true: the children could hardly speak their own language anymore and amongst them they communicated in Spanish. Together with their language other things from their culture were also disappearing. They still painted each other with the fruit they used for that, but the paintings were now merely decorative and have lost all meaning over time. (you could tell someone's marital status, amount of children and many things more by their tribal paintings)...

San Blas

That morning we wanted to see the sunrise, so we woke up early. Leaving our bamboo hut we noticed that we were on the opposite side of the island. After a swift 30 second walk we reach the far east corner alas we went in the water. Swimming and floating we watched the sun rise over the crystal clear ocean blue water.
Around 7 o'clock we used a very rationed breakfast (all the meals are so rationed, that they advise you to foresee some extra food for in between). Hopefully today the locals that run the island don't start drinking even before most people have woken up (which is generally around 7:30). We're wondering if they only promised us lobster for dinner because they were all so drunk (and some of them also something else) and didn't feel like catching anything (or even getting of their chair)...
>From our 30m wide island we can see about 20 other little island (20 out of 374), some so small they only harbour one tree (no hammocks there)

Miraflor, Panama Canal

The Panama Canal is 80 km long. We didn't manage to find a yacht that wanted to take us through for an affordable price, so we just went to see the locks.
Boring.

Breakfast @ Chitre

Some countries seem to develop a culture upon their own culture whereas travelers are involved. In Costa Rica and Panama lots of Hostels try to make their places more attractive by offering free pancakes for breakfast (and coffee of course)... Although mostly this consist of providing a bag of premixed pancake dough that you only have to mix with water and is meant to make American Style Pancakes, not the delicious Crepes as they call our European Pancakes. When you're also offered bananas you should consider yourself in a luxury situation...
Some hostels try to be different and even offer a free continental breakfast. As far as I know that means bread with cheese, ham, scrambled eggs, fruit, jam and coffee or tea. In some cases it means a range of bread with a choice of cheese, your egg made in your choice of style with your mix of vegetables, yogurt and so on. In this hostel we stayed at, it meant: toast with jam and coffee...