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The Colombian Era, pt 1

The Colombian era began in 1492 when Christo Colombo came to South America and generally started to fuck shit up. I dont usually swear, but in Colombia, in Spanish, there are just so many more elaborate and rude ways to do it the F-word is right tame now.

That doesnt mean Ill use it.

ANYWAY, I came to Colombia. The plan was to meet up with Steve in South America sometime this winter. Hes been travelling around South America for the last four months with friends, including Mel, Sara (fromPeterborough) and me. We didnt know where to meet up, and I work with a couple Colombians and it turns out that Colombia was pretty damn convenient. Not to mentions amazing!

So living in the twisted capitalistic society we do, the cheapest flight here was actually 4 flights: Calgary to Denver to Orlando to Miami to Bogata, all over 26 hours. It was all pretty painless actually. I slept in a little chapel in Orlando airport until I was kicked out by a security guard at 4:30am who said it was wrong for me to rest in a chapel and proceeded to pray. Oh, by the way, Orlando airport is awesome! Its designed like something out of a 90s sci-fi video game, with monorails and lagoons and space pod looking things and screens everywhere. The flight between Orlando and Miami was the most pointless thing ever, as soon as we got up, we went down.

I got to Bogota and everything was good, met Steve outside the aeroport and lurked the city for a couple days. The people here are very friendly, tho veeeeery few people speak inglais, so its pretty nutty for me. Its not that bad tho, Steve speaks enough of it to get by, and Im picking it up at about 10 times as fast as I tried to pick up french. That and now were hanging out with a Catalonian chicita who´s from Barcellona. My visit to Bogota consisted of walking around and soaking up the warm weather and tropical parks, drinking copiuos amounts on cervesa, eating amazing food at amazing prices, dancing the night away, learing spanish and teaching inglais to everybody, talking to all the nice people (actully Steve and ´elena ((Helena, you dont say the ´h´ in Spanish)) do most of the talking), noticing how freekin ALIVE the city and people are here, and, what I always to in foreign ciudades, just walked around.

Then we took buses to the centre of the Zona Cafeteria (coffee region). To look on a map and to be used to cruising around Canada, America and the EU you wouldnt think it would take that long, but about 12 hours later we finally got to Salento. Not that the bus rides were unpleasent. Acutally quite the opposite. To be used to cruising around Canada or America on a Greyhound, 12 hours on the bus is close to a death wish. But despite Colombia´s (and South America´s) poverty, plethora of aging vehicles and totally loco traffic, the busses are down right cushy. Tons of leg room, the seats go WAAAY back (and not to mention comfy), its not packed to the gills with strange and smelly people, no strange engine and/or other mechanical fumes, no problems! And you get to watch Action Movies in Spanish! Oh, and the view? Holy fuck! Sorry, last time, I swear... Bogota is about 8500 feet above sea level, just a little less than the top of the rockies around Canmore and Banff, tho you really cant tell except that you´re strangely out of breath on anything but the smallest hill. And its all mountains covered in tropical forests and banana farms and people doing stuff. Seems like half the people here on the street are doing stuff, as oppesed to Canada, where mostly they seem to be going somewhere else if there even are people on the street. And most of the highway is quite precariosly perched on the side of a 3000´ slope. Traffic is just loco, all hairpin passing on turns and switchbacks and that precarious highway, but ive never had a problem. Hell Im even considering dring down here at some point in the future.

So we roll into Solento. We go for a hike on the first day in the mountains, and its like the closest thing to paradise Ive ever found. Well, maybe BCs pretty close to paradise too, and maybe the north shore of Lake Superior, but you get the idea. Pics and vids on facebook soon. All green and flowing clouds and towering palms and pleasant tropical forest and mountain streams and mountain meadows with said towing palms and horses.

Its all just loco tho. First of all, to get to the trail head, you jump in the back of a 60´s era Willys Jeep (no joke) - they serve as the rural public transport around there. And theres only 14 freekin people limit to ride on one, roof rack and all! On something smaller than a Wrangler! ITS AWESOME! Another loco thing, all the military and security everywhere. All over Bogota. All kinds of uniforms. We were walking around a University campus and a shotgun toting guard smiled and pointed: ´vamos that way´. On the said paradise hike, theres soldiers passing us going the other way for the whole first half of the hike (tho Id say only about a platoon, they were right well spaced out in little groups). Might have something to do with the simering (and at times past raging) civil war going on fuelled by cocain and poverty. Dont worry, mom and dad, its actually quite safe (except for the traffic).

The next day in Solento we chilled out, went for a little nature hike with these home schooled poor rural kids who might as well have been natural science majors (think smart like Lisa Simpson), all plants and tropical forrest life cycles and human impact. Not that I understood much of what was being said. We even got to see coca, you know, that notorious plant. That night we partied like no tomorrow, all saying gibberish in spanish with locals and rum and hanging out with cattle and grass fights. The next day I felt like crap, but Steve and ´elana were fine. Might have something to do with the malaria pill I took...

Today we went to a couple coffee plantations. The hostel owner figured it out, a hippy with a distinct physical resemblance to Tommy Chong, but with 10 less years and 10 times the talkativeness and enthusiasm. He convinced us to go. He convinced us to stay at his hostel from the one we were at before. He concived me to drink a reeeeeaaaally strong coffee at 9pm last night. He convinced me that it was the best cup of coffee (cafe) ive ever had. I couldnt sleep until 4am. Anyway, we go on to these two plantations, again on the Willys. The first one is actually pretty much just wild coffee trees in the jungle, arribica, and the guy who owns the last is a natural scientist of some kind. He deosn´t harvest the coffee for money, and there isnt that much of it on his property. Im not sure how he and his family gets by, something to do with the government. I dont know, he only speaks espaiñol, but as soon as we got to his place in the jungle a butterfly landed on his daughter and said it was fate so he liked us. We were there for hours, walking around the jungle, had lunch, hung out with goats and talked about their contribution to cafe (they discovered it. Yes the goats), the fallacy of Juan Valdez, and then had literally, by far, the freshes cup in my life - processed, roasted, grinded and brewed right there, on a house on top of a hill in the most picuresque place ever. Then we went to another plantation, this one an acutal working plantation. We were all getting a bit gooffy (noodly) at this point - all lack of sleep and Willy rides and cafe cafe cafe (and more cafe cafe cafe). This plantation was shade grown coffee, organic or fair trade or something - I dont know, the plantation guide was talking en español. It really was really interesting. And noodly (goofy). At the end he gave us another incredibly fresh and strong cup of cafe that he said would keep us up till 6am. Its 8:45 now. Lets see how it goes.

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