rollercoaster bus ride, farm life, despues paradise in 79 degreee water

After Ivan drops me off at the bus station, i go walking confidently, chin up, chest out, eyes on the horizon, into the Bogota bus terminal. You see, one must always act like you do this on a daily basis. If not, herds of youngsters hound you selling decorative bracelets, packs of middle-aged men come at you screaming "Santa Marta Aqui!!", Medellin Aqui!"...yada yada.. These men want you to go with their buses. You see, they get a cut for the kaniving manipulation of an invitating you to their bus. If one does not play their cards right, one could easily pay double the price that a local would pay for an average bus ride to their city of choice. I pay my fee of 30.000 mil pesos or about 14 US Dollars and sit to wait. My bus leaves at 1145 at night, and its now 845. I sit, take my sweat boots off, peel my sticky socks off my feet and crack open a Howard Zinn book. Howard Zinn is a historian, political scientist, and in a nutshell he is a liberator of the unspoke, the underdogs, the stepped-on people of all societies. In a nutshell he argues, why we must admire national heroes from 1st grade that are actually tyrants, murders, malicious greed-filled, war-mongerers, and wealthy landowners who set out to fulfill their own interests? Instead why not look to humanitarian-like people, cures of diseases, and donators of the good cause? Freedom, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness..If a government does not meet these minimal standards for the masses of people, then it is up to the people to use the means necessary to make sure that these needs are met. You see a government is only in place to fulfill the needs of the people..... He goes on with more interesting points but the main conclusion is that the Declaration of Independence actually states that it is up to the people to make sure their needs are met, not the government. The documen tthat our general rights and liberties rest on to this present day and people must come to recognize what they have a right to. They must not only have an opinion, but turn that opinion and or intellectual knowledge into a form of action...anyway interesting shit....

After a 7 hour bus ride through the night to a city called San Gil, I arrive. The entire bus ride was filled with roller-coaster-like turns, pot-holes in the road the size of a small kiddies swimming pool, and what seemed like mass amounts of drunk-drivers on the road. By the way, along the journey, my bus driver actually side swipped another bus, and straight up scrapped against it, and all one could hear was the sound of one of the 2 busses mirros exploding in the night. The lady sitting across from me screams, "Vamos rapido!" yeah, no shit lady, ill be lucky to make it out of this one alive! I wasnt able to sleep at alll through this madness. Th bus driver pulls up to San Gil just at sunrise and drops me off. Last night I had contatced a fellow couchsurfer named Andres. He said I could stay at his place, a farm located up in the Colombian hills of rolling, lush and green jungle. I walk about 2 miles with a good 45 pound pack to the main part of town. I call Andres, and he tells me to call him back around 930. At the moment Im dizzy and fog-eyed. I havent slept in 24 hours (lets jut say as an understatement it was partly the bus-ride!) i walk to the center square where there is a large fountaun. I fall asleep on a bench as morning and the heat progresses. I wake up 2 hours later to a mass of locals in the center square. toothless old men are sipping coffee, vendors are setting up their stations of jewlrey made of cheap fishing line and scrapped beads, children are playing with the birds I am so damn delirious, I need to find a place to crash now! I throw my pack up on my shoulders, take a breath, and set off for 2 possible hostles. I think, how do i know this guy Andres hasnt changed his mind? If he has, Im screwed. I make my way up 2 incredibly steep hills...Both hostels are booked. I walk back down to my bench and does off again. I soon wake up, cotton-mouthed, and trek over to a place to call Andres. He tells me to wait there and he will pick me up on his motorcycle. Andres shows up 45 minutes later and Iknow immediately this is one of the most kind man I have ever met. His grin is from ear to ear, he is laughing as he talks to me, and I almost feel as though this man was paid to show this form of kindess. I soon learn I am wrong. He is a simple man who lives on a farm with two dogs, and his daughter. He is an Electrical Engineer and teaches at a smnall university in town. He throws my pack on his motorcycle, I strap on a helmet, and were off to his place. I have never ridden a motorcycle before. With the wind nipping at my clothes, my arms around Andres waist, I experienced a feeling of comlete useless helplessness. Riding a motorcyle, at least for me as a first-timer, felt like the feelin gone would get in the face of a bear in the woods, or in the face of a robber at ones door. I was helpless, alive and the motorcycle was taking me through life. I had no control over whether we crashed or someone hit us as we halled-ass through winding roads. We turned off on a dirst road and followed it one mile up into the rolling hills. Andres house is located on a farm. He has an electric shower, two dogs (one of which needs to go to rehab for her addiction to fetching sticks), one motorcycle,and that is all he needs. A realization came over me that this main had the most basic, bear-necessities, and he could not stop laughing or smiling all day long. That night I lay in his hamoc, not a light of civilization around, thunder approaching on the horizon... Soon it began to rain, and slowly dozed off to an enternity of noise-less comfort.

After a 14 hour day of ridning buses I eneded up on the Carribean coast. Yes, pirates do live here, they like to drink rum, and they have gold teeth. I arrived in Santa Marta at 11 at night, at least the bus station. I ended up walking 5 miles with a 45 pund pack through the stickiest heat I have ever encountererd. I encountered a local boy in an alley along my journey who ened up walking with me most of the way to show me my hostel. I awoke this morning to a liter of water, 5 oranges, two cups of coffee, and a piece of bread for about a dollar fifty. Now I feel like Hemmingway in THe East Of Eden...just went for a swim in almost 80 degree water, took a nap, layed in a hammock, and cracked open a Spanish novel....I am living a life of Kip Madden.

written by

kipmaddog on July 21, 2009 from San Gil, Colombia

from the travel blog: adventures from down south

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You sound like you are having a blast!! love it. i miss my 3rd world adventures but am glad you have a few months of fun!

written by Jaclyn McCall on July 22, 2009

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