The South American Adventure

So here we are almost four months later, back in Buenos Aires having completed a full circle of South America. When we were last here, I was still finding my feet on this strange, new continent and yet now I feel bizarrely at home. Strange, because in a couple of day's time we'll be in our actual homes and there are very few similarities which can be drawn between the two.  

This thought sparked an idea! By comparing England and South America, I can both reflect on my time here and bring this final chapter to a close, highlighting what I've missed about home and what I will miss about South America when I'm finally back on British soil.

#1 English Restaurants vs. South American Street Food

In England we're lucky that we have access to all kinds of cuisines but what we're missing is the option of buying it from a food market. From arepas and tortillas, to tapiocas and buñuelos, the very best South American meals are found on the street. Nothing feels more authentic than sitting cross legged on a cobbled step gobbling down a meal you've seen cooked right in front of you. Though we may have the occasional market in England, it lacks the excitement found at South American food stalls because the meals are priced similarly to nearby restaurants. The beauty of South America's street food is that it's so cheap, you have the freedom to try all kinds of crazy looking dishes which invariably lead to some amazing discoveries. If you don't like a meal, you've lost a couple of pounds at most but the same cannot be said for our London equivalents. It's worth noting that whichever continent you're on, people will often try and warn you away from street food but unless you have a stomach which is lined with flower petals, you'll more than likely be absolutely fine.

#2 English Parties vs. South American Fiestas

I do love good old English nights out but they're a world away from the parties thrown throughout South America. Whereas we like to plan our festivities down to a tee, including which pair of heels will be most appropriate for which club, South Americans just chuck it all together in a spectacularly spontaneous way. Wherever there are people there's potential for a party, whether it be a beach, a city square or a random back street alleyway. Just add some music and the dancing begins! If you were to stop and ask a South American why they're celebrating they'd look at you like you're crazy; 'because we're alive of course!' If you asked the same of a Brit on a night out they'd look at you like you're crazy and down another jägerbomb. 

#3 English Landscapes vs. South American Scenery

South America is massive and so it only makes sense that it has every kind of scenery you could possibly imagine. However, imagining it simply isn't enough and most of it you truly have to see to believe. One country alone can be home to tropical beaches, snow capped mountains, baron deserts and the Amazon rainforest! It's really quite amazing how quickly the scenery can change and no matter how much ground we covered, we never grew bored of simply staring out into South American space. England has some beautiful areas but it lacks the huge variety which makes South America so exciting.

#4 English Solitude vs. South American Smiles 

We English keep ourselves to ourselves. Nobody wants to be that crazy person on the tube who strikes up conversation, even less so the poor soul who has to suffer sitting next to that crazy person. In South America it seems the opposite is true; you'd be mad not to speak to the person next to you. Language barrier? No problem. They'll tease a sentence out of you even if it takes them the entire thirty hour bus journey. As much as they interact with one another, we found locals to be twice as interested in us. They'd offer directions before we even realised we were lost and stop us in the most random places simply to ask where we're from. Initially we had our guards up: all these stories had convinced us that any attempt to speak with us would be some sort of distraction whilst their mate mugged our bags but we soon realised these people have a genuine interest in others around them. And why not? Virtually everyone we spoke to taught us something new and we were continually surprised by the people we'd then choose to return to for a second conversation. 

#5 English Prices vs. South American Pennies

Aside from Brazil and Chile, the countries we visited in South America were dirt cheap. This has obvious benefits but best of all was that it enabled us to try new things that we would never have been able to afford on the same budget in England. For example, we swam with wild dolphins, threw ourselves down a canyon and climbed a 6,000m mountain all for the equivalent of just a few pounds a time. I imagined that dealing with such small figures would devalue the money but quite the contrary! We were ecstatic each time we haggled hard and saved ourselves an almighty sixty pence because that additional sixty pence was not only a couple of coins, but three empanadas, a laundry service or an entire meal at the food market. I'm going to miss how far our money goes and our dedication to making every penny count. 

#6 English Graffiti vs. South American Street Art

Any spritz of colour in an English city is deemed to be vandalism whereas in South America, it is celebrated as art. As a result it's a beautiful and vibrant continent with every blank space a potential canvas for the latest innovative street art masterpiece. Almost every town and city we visited was filled with street murals and interesting, abstract statues, as though the entire area is one big art gallery. I understand there's a fine line between a masterpiece and a monstrosity but I can't help thinking England could do with a little lightening up. If we stopped chasing down every kid with a spray can we might give them time to develop their mindless graffiti into something a little more meaningful.

#7 English Long Journeys vs. South American Never-ending Journeys 

Having done some rough sums we've worked out that during our four months in South America we've spent over four hundred hours on buses. That's about two and a half weeks! The longest stint was our last where we did three overnight journeys in a row, from La Paz to Uyuni, Uyuni to Villazon and Villazon to Buenos Aires - a total of sixty two hours, without including the waiting time inbetween. If we were to drive for this long in England we'd end up half way to Africa! It's hilarious to me now that I used to complain about a one hour journey into London when we can now happily endure a twenty hour bus over various borders. That said, whilst some of the buses were absolutely horrendous, others were very pleasant with fully reclining chairs, in-seat entertainment and three course meals. National Express could learn a lot from Argentinian bus companies!

#8 English Highlands vs. South American Mountains

As much as I love the beautiful South American mountains, they come at a price: altitude! Unless you're content with admiring them from below you'll likely suffer the headaches and breathlessness caused by being so high. Initially we were literally waking up in the night gasping for air and feeling as though we'd run a marathon after climbing a flight of stairs. Though we gradually acclimatised, I never got fully used to living in the clouds and I'm looking forward to feeling full of life again down at ground zero. English countryside can be just as impressive despite not ever exceeding the one thousand metre mark.

#9 English Customer Service vs. South American Sloth Service

South Americans are never in a hurry and their customer service leaves a lot to be desired. It completely baffled us that we could spend twenty minutes queuing to pay for three items at a supermarket, or three hours to do a border crossing that some people have to do every day. Fortunately, as travellers we were rarely pushed for time either and so mostly found their laid back outlook rather refreshing but if I were to actually live here, I think I'd find it far more infuriating. For a nation that love to celebrate life, they spend a hell of a lot of it waiting around for something to happen.

#10 English Health & Safety Madness vs. South American See-What-Happens Mantra

This is always a tricky one. Whilst health and safety regulations are obviously put in place to reduce the likelihood of accidents occurring, when they're applied stringently they simultaneously reduce the likelihood of having any fun. If we'd been following British rules, there's no way we'd have been allowed to share a stream with alligators, walk along an active train track or race head first down a vertical sand slope; all of which were truly awesome. However, had we been eaten, run over or left with broken bones, I imagine they would have been considerably less enjoyable. I'm not sure either continent has the balance completely right here but it was exciting to err on the side of incaution for a little while, and thankfully I've lived to tell tale (touch wood, one day to go!) Where I do definitely side with England though is their approach to hygiene. Though forced to accept a long time ago that filthy squat toilets won't kill me, I nevertheless will be ecstatic to return to western bathroom facilities where the prominent colour is white and toilet roll can actually be thrown into the toilet. 

England and South America really are worlds apart and yet I find myself thinking fondly of both. How is it that I can be happy in two places which are in so many ways direct opposites of one another? Well one thing I've certainly learnt since being away is that nothing is ever black and white in terms of being good or bad, right or wrong, and I think these two places are a great example of that. One is not perfect and the other flawed; they're both just different and both just fine. In fact, more than fine, they're both f*cking fantastic!

I never thought I could love a continent as much as I love Asia but South America has exceeded all my expectations. We spent just shy of four months here but I think even after four years I'd still be left wanting more. I'm almost pleased that there are parts we missed out on because it just means we'll have to return! I've no doubt I'll be back before I know it and I absolutely cannot wait.

A Real Look at Medellin

Our first impressions of Medellin were pretty awful. Within minutes of arriving we'd experienced one drugged up nutter running around our hostel room screaming to himself whilst another was being rushed to hospital having stopped breathing after choking on his own vomit. We were forced to question what kind of place we'd come to and we only had one day to find out.

Generally we've strayed away from tourist trips but friends had recommended the free city walking tour and with such a short amount of time to explore by ourselves, it seemed to make sense to sign up. Our guide, Hernan, was born and bred in Medellin and was absolutely brilliant. It was great to see the city through the eyes of a local and to discover where's really best to grab the tastiest buñuelos or the most refreshing guarapo. 

The tour was called a 'Real City Tour' with the emphasis on 'Real.' Over the course of four hours, Hernan led us to not only the nicest parts of town, but also the worst; those which hadn't made an appearance in our Lonely Planet guides. One of my favourite sites was Plaza Botero where Latin America's most famous artist has displayed his disproportionate statues. With the Rafael Uribe Palace chequered black and white in the background, it looks like a scene plucked straight from Alice in Wonderland; bizarre but beautiful. 

Immediately afterwards, we followed Hernan to the Church of the True Cross which is nowadays a popular hangout for prostitutes, or 'love providers' as he chose to call them. Typically Colombians try to hide any signs of their dark history but Hernan was keen to reveal them all so we could see for ourselves that they're now not so bad. Yes, there are places such as the above where you'd be wise to wear your backpack on your front, but is the same not true in London? Hernan continually emphasised that Colombia's reputation is much worse than its current reality and that the number of good people far outweigh the bad. 

Reflecting back upon our last ten days here I can honestly say I believe him. Almost every Colombian we've met has been overly helpful and done everything within their power to ensure we have a safe and enjoyable trip. In fact, the only unsavoury characters we've encountered have been the coke heads in our hostel and they were British! As Hernan explained, the people of Colombia are desperate to show the world that their country has more to offer then just cocaine and are working hard to rewrite their history.

Speaking of which, Hernan spent a good hour or so giving us an in depth history lesson on the Colombian Conflict and how the drug cartels came to control the country. Their story is one full of pain and suffering but it's the Colombian way to forget and move on. Look around you. Do these faces reflect the story I've just told? He then shared with us their secret to happiness: a selective memory. Whilst they attempt to erase their painful past, they will never forget their moments of happiness. For example, most Colombians will speak very little of the war, but ask them of that one time in 1990 when Colombia tied with Germany in the Fifa World Cup, and they'll have a tape of the match ready to show to you. 

Hernan described snippets like this as branches of hope for a country that has for a long time been sinking into a gloomy swamp. Thanks to the people and their incredible determination to hold tight to these branches, Colombia has kept its head above the water even if the rest of it has been sucked beneath the surface. It's a simple analogy but his delivery reduced me to tears and he finished the tour on an inspirational note. If we Colombians can find it within ourselves to be happy, why can't everyone? We're alive, right? Why isn't that enough? There's no doubt that Colombia still has a lot of problems but they're continually working on improving their situation through homeless and rehabilitation shelters, social architecture, security schemes and more. And they're doing it all with a smile on their face.

The Walled City, Cartagena

Within the grand, stone walls of Cartagena sits one of the most beautiful cities in the whole of South America. The pretty streets are cobbled and lined either side with pastel painted buildings in pinks, purples, yellows and blues. Many boast luxurious looking overhanging balconies which are smothered in flowers to compliment the colour of the walls. Even the sky plays its part in this picture, turning lilac at dusk once the sun begins to fall.

Initially we were stunned and simply wandered through the city, admiring the beauty found around each and every corner. However, it didn't take us long to realise that something felt seriously wrong. It's all too pristine, too plush and ultimately too perfect to be South American. Despite the quaint, old architecture, it lacks an air of authenticity, feeling instead as though it has been designed for tourists who may leave Colombia believing it's all about high end restaurants and ice cream cafés. I imagine that's what the tourist office would like us to believe but upon closer inspection the cracks begin to show; telltale signs of the real world beyond the walls. Picture it like a movie set; brand new and beautiful from within, but take one step outside and you see the ugly construction which lies behind. 

Though the truth can indeed be ugly at times, I'd argue that the real Colombia is far more fascinating and has much more to offer than this contained little toy town. Cartagena is a beautiful place for tourists seeking a luxury holiday but for travellers wanting to learn about the culture of the country, it leaves a lot left unsaid.

The Caribbean Coast, Colombia

Colombia's Caribbean Coast is eighteen hours North of Bogotá and at least eighteen degrees hotter. At an average temperature of thirty-six, it was the kind of heat that's only bearable if you're constantly within a few metres of cold water; either to drink, or dive into, or both. Or, of course, if you're Colombian and can happily walk around in jeans and a jumper in the middle of the day without breaking a sweat.

Our first stop, Santa Marta, had a lot going for it; year round sunshine, delicious street food markets and pretty little lanes with hundreds of hidden gem cafés. It will also forever be remembered as the place where we finally got our hands on fried ice cream (which was every bit worth the wait.) In fact, the only part of this Colombian beach town which I found slightly disappointing was the beach itself! Having been to the Caribbean, I was expecting perfect white sand and crystal clear water but the coastline in Santa Marta was a murky grey.

Fortunately, we heard whispers of a nearby National Park called Tayrona and here, we found the paradise we'd been hoping for. A three hour trek through the forest brought us to the most beautiful bays on the other side where colourful parrots flitted between palm trees and green tailed lizards darted around below. From the top of the peninsular a Colombian flag stood proudly, demanding recognition as it rustled in the breeze. Then turning our attention to the turquoise water, we gazed out in admiration as it glistened in the sunshine, inviting us in to enjoy our prize. The shallow water was warm on our skin, but after hours of enduring the blistering heat it felt as refreshing as an ice cold plunge pool. 

Having gone through the effort of finding this paradise, it only made sense that we allow ourselves time to enjoy it properly. Luckily, there were a couple of camping grounds along the beach with hammocks where we could stay for the night. After watching the sunset and wandering back beneath the stars, we swayed to sleep to the sounds of singing crickets and crashing waves. It couldn't have been more idealistically perfect. 

Realistically, however, hammocks aren't all that comfortable. Not for an entire night, anyway. We woke up aching far more than we should have, even after taking yesterday's trek into consideration. Nevertheless, we'd already made the decision to take the difficult route back; a one hour walk along the beach followed by a four and a half hour hike over the mountain in the jungle. We'd also decided that an epic journey required an epic breakfast so made a beeline for next door's bakery. By bakery, I mean an outdoor stone oven with a wooden 'Panaderia' sign nailed to the nearest tree. There was no menu; it was only 'pan', but this particular pan voided the need for any other options. The Colombian baker called it Pan Chocolate but I feel a more appropriate name would have been Heaven In A Basket. It was genuinely one of the best warm treats I've ever tasted and set us up well for the day.

Even still, the way back was incredibly hard. With the sea out of sight, the first hour along the sand felt like an endless desert which scalded our feet with every step. We distracted ourselves with the beauty of our surroundings which we likened to the set of Jurassic Park. The mountains, trees, streams and boulders all looked so perfect that we felt they had to be fake. If a giant t-rex had come storming through the bushes, we probably wouldn't have even battered an eyelid. We really needed to get some water...

Thankfully the sand led us straight to a beach bar where we grabbed a cold drink along with one last look at our paradise bay before starting the upwards climb through the jungle. The route was so poorly marked out that it became quite funny. At times, we were literally on our hands and knees, crawling under boulders with the backs of our bags scraping against the stone. The next minute we'd come to a vertical cliff face and have to devise some sort of acrobatic stunt system to move on. The first should have a leg up, the second an arm and leg up, and the third will just have to be yanked brutally from above. It was like an obstacle course for adults; an exotic crystal maze, and we focused on the fun to mask the pain.

Regardless of our efforts, we'd made one massive mistake in naïvely assuming that the peak would be the midpoint; that after two hours of climbing, we should start to descend. Such was not the case, and when we were still clambering upwards at three hours gone, I feared a meltdown may be on the cards (quite literally with that heat still hammering down.) The further we trudged, the lizards grew bigger, the butterflies brighter and our water bottles once again alarmingly light. The first sign of a complaint was on the tip of my tongue when we crossed two natives from the indigenous village deep within the jungle: a man and a woman following the same route in reverse but in barefoot and carrying bundles of firewood. As she passed we noticed the woman had a child strapped to her back, hanging from a hairpiece which was tied around her head. I realised then, we were in no position to moan. At least at the end of this, there would be ice lollies waiting for us. 

And there were! Ice lollies with a sense of achievement on the side; that immense feeling of accomplishment that keeps us coming back to these challenging tasks. Tayrona Park was an unforgettable experience, made even more special by its exclusivity to those truly committed to discovering its beauty. We were thankful to return to a normal bed that night but with the images of our paradise still fresh for our dreams. 

Breathless In Bogotá

There are many places we've visited over the past year which have taken our breath away, but none quite so literally as Bogotá. Set 2,640 metres above sea level, the altitude in the Colombian capital was very difficult to adjust to, leaving us rather short of air.
The city is bursting with museums and we'd planned to see as many as possible but after traipsing around just one, we were forced to head back, feeling sick and light headed. Unfortunately, we didn't choose the best one either. Though 'The Gold Museum' sounds glamorous, we didn't learn anything except that seeing one room full of golden artefacts is the same as seeing one hundred.

The route back to the hostel was a pretty one. Away from the main roads, Bogotá is full of of charm; the kind you'd expect from a small village, not a city. The narrow lanes are unevenly cobbled and the terraced buildings distinguish their boundaries with vibrant paints, a different colour to their neighbours'. Some have even used the walls of their home as a blank canvas for street art masterpieces. It was still early afternoon when we arrived back at the hostel but a few hours later, we were already in bed; the combination of the long journey the previous day, very slight jet lag and everything we were doing seeming to take ten times as much effort. The following day, we woke early to see the city from the Monsserate viewpoint in the morning light. At a further 2,350 metres upwards, most people opt for the cable car or train to take them to the top but we decided to walk; stupid really, considering I was still out of breath just from climbing the three runged ladder of my bunk bed. It would have been a challenging hike even in perfect health but with our light heads and heavy chests, it was near impossible. We had to stop for breath every few steps whilst dozens of Colombians overtook us with piteous smiles. It was pretty frustrating to feel so useless and I wished we could have worn signs on our heads saying: 'Not Unfit, Not Used to Altitude!' An hour and a half later we'd made it though and we were so happy with ourselves, we quite literally felt on top of the world. From the peak of this hill we could see the whole of Bogotá and we were shocked to see its full size. We'd been staying in the centre which felt tiny for a capital city but the suburbs spread for miles and miles. It seemed a shame at this point that we didn't have time to explore the city more but we'd booked a bus for that afternoon. However, we did have a couple of hours left in which to squeeze in a well deserved lunch so practically ran down the hill, straight into a cute and quirky restaurant café. It's common in Colombia for eateries to offer set lunches which are even better value than their regular menu. We barely understood what the set dishes were but we were feeling adventurous and figured that with three courses and a drink for the equivalent of £2.50, we couldn't really go wrong! Luckily it was just as delicious as it was cheap.

From what I've seen so far, I like Colombia a lot but I'm looking forward to discovering more of the country, this time at sea level on the Caribbean Coast!