All the way south

The highlight of the five hour bus and taxi journey from Santa Marta to Cartagena (besides the great test of my dexterity in the pinball toilet), was the sight of masses of local hombres all sprinting urgently to the site of an overturned truck on the other side of the highway. It wasn't to provide assistance to the driver, it was to take advantage of a situation we all dream about - it was a beer truck. Unfortunately the police had already arrived by the time the taxi I was sharing with three Germans went past, so we decided against joining the affray. Again it was nightfall arriving in a new place, except this approach was very different from Tayrona park. Cartagena is Columbia's top tourist destination, and the old city, where I was staying, is a World Heritage Site. The ramparts, surrounding the old city, and the various churches and monuments, are bathed in golden light after dark. I was already enthralled. After dropping the friendly Germans off at their hostel, I

The morning after the night before, I woke up in my clothes, stiff, sore, and hungover. I decided within 30 seconds of waking up that today was going to be a rest day. I was staying in a nice guesthouse with my own private ensuite room, my own double bed, a personal hammock and decent wifi. In my current state, this was heaven. After booking an extra night, and a delicious guesthouse breakfast, and sleeping some more, the afternoon was spent in the Museu del Oro, the first (but if you know me you'll know it's definitely not the last) museum of this trip, which was pretty good, with some great information on the local indigenous groups of the area. Long story short: they were fucked over when the Spanish arrived, but they've managed to maintain their culture and some traditions in smaller isolated communities, as well as being integrated into Columbian culture as a whole. Tayrona national park contains jungle rainforest that runs right up to some well nice isolated beaches

My first night's sleep in Columbia was better than expected. Jetlag took a night off, and I slept like a log, probably due to being extremely tired - the second night is always when jetlag kicks in proper for me. Where better then to battle the jetlag than on a gruelling four-day jungle trek to an ancient mountaintop city? La Ciudad Perdida ("The Lost City" in English) is an indigenous city built by the Tayrona. The Tayrona are the local equivalent of the Aztecs of Mexico or the Incas of Peru - they are the original inhabitants of this part of the continent, whose civilisation was slowly wiped out after the arrival of the Spanish conquistadors back in the 1600's. They were murdered and enslaved in the masses, their gold was taken to be melted down and sent back to the Spanish crown, and their way of life was destroyed. La Ciudad Perdida was one of their major cities, one that was lost to jungle growth for 400 years, until some scavengers hunting for lost indigenous

Just over a week into Colombia and I'm sitting in a jungle hostel with no wifi and my legs barely work. It's been a hectic week, and it's time for some downtime (and to catch up on things like this blog). I departed Auckland packed like a sardine into the middle seat of the middle aisle of one of LATAM airlines' 787s. The Kiwi assistant at the check-in counter insisted that I needed to have an exit ticket out of Columbia before I could board the flight. Explaining that I was planning to depart the country via a land border, and with no time to book a flight I could cancel (I was checking in pretty last minute), she spent a few worrisome minutes discussing my options with her colleagues. In the end we came to a compromise - she would take my credit card details in case Columbian immigration decided to book a flight for me. I had gone through a whole load of hassle to get my American Express "just in case" card (it's bloody difficult to get a credit card i

Like Uluru and the Great Barrier Reef, in my six years living in Sydney I failed to make it to New Zealand, not even for a weekend ("I'll go next year, next year"). Seeing as it was on the way to South America, this was another "now or never" moment. So I squeezed three days in to the start of my three months. Three days in New Zealand, as it turns out, is a very tight squeeze. I flew into Queenstown. I had heard nice things about the area, but I was not prepared for the epic jaw-to-the-floor scenery encountered on approach and after landing. I had heard it was nice, but not this nice. This thought played around in my head over the next couple of days on the south island - some places are over hyped, and don't meet expectations when visited. But New Zealand, or at least the parts I saw in the south island, are under  hyped. Either I haven't been paying attention, or their tourist board needs to get their arse in gear - the South Island is mind-blowing

I meant to write this post earlier, but saying goodbye to Sydney occupied me more than anticipated (I've had enough farewell drinks to last me a good while). But so be it -  I'm writing it on a flight from Santiago to Bogota, having just flown from Auckland after a cracking few days in New Zealand (the subject of the next blog post). So where am I actually going? As you probably know by now, I'm going to two of the three continents on Earth I've yet to visit: South America and Antarctica (Africa will have to wait for now). Why South America? Well, my rough plan circa 2009 was to leave Ireland, explore some of Asia, live in Australia for a year or two to save some money, then go explore South America. That "year or two" down under turned into six, plus a couple extra in the Netherlands thrown in for good measure. So as I see it, it's about bloody time. Why Antarctica? This is a funny one - in recent weeks, when I tell people about this part of my pl