All the way south

If you tried talking to me in the language before this trip you wouldn't be able to tell, but I did some Spanish classes way back in 2010 in Sydney. After 18 months, my crowning achievement was having a full 30 minute conversation with a Colombian workmate, during work beers in the pub, without even realising it. Seven years of no practice had meant this had deteriorated to the basic stuff, but there's no better place to pick it back up than in a whole continent that speaks the language. Call it western arrogance, but I did not expect to have to use my Spanish as much as I have done so far on this trip. My travelling frame of reference comes from my previous big trip through Asia, where in most of the countries I visited, you can get by just fine with English. This has not been the case in many of the places I've visited so far in South America. Even in the "tourist" areas, I've had to dip into my shallow reservoir of Spanish vocabulary more often than I e

So far, the rule with Colombian buses had been to take the prescribed travel time and add an hour or two. Having been informed that the bus to Bogotá takes 7-9 hours, I feel into a deep VIP-seat slumber expecting to get at least a solid 8 hours of sleep. I was in the middle of a dream when Xavier poked me awake at 6am. I still wasn't fully awake, and still wasn't fully sure if we were actually in Bogotá just 7 hours later, when I said au revoir to him and clambered into a taxi. Finally, a daytime arrival at a new place. My first impressions on the near hour-long journey into the centre were...underwhelming. Lots of traffic, lots of buses, lots of flat sprawl - Bogotá wasn't impressing me so far. Having been hostel dorming it for a while now, I decided it was time for a break from backpacking. I had booked myself into a four star hotel for the next couple of nights, right in the historic central region, known as Le Candelaria. My extremely early arrival meant that my hot

It was with a heavy heart that I ordered the Uber to begin my journey out of Medellín. It had been a great week, and there was still more for me to do here, but time waits for no man - I had an Inca Trail deadline of December 10th looming, with more of Colombia, Ecuador and the Galapagos to cram in before then. Medellín didn't let me leave so easily though. The 11am bus I aimed to take to my next destination, Salento in the coffee region, was full, so I spent a bonus two hours blogging at the southern bus station waiting for the 1pm. The longer than expected bus journey took 7.5 hours (it's not a good idea to be in a rush in Colombia), but the other travellers made it interesting - including a couple of Aussie blokes (one of whom gave off all the signs of a debilitating coke habit) and a solo French traveller, Xavier, from Nantes. After yet another nighttime arrival in a new place, us bunch of random travellers made our way through some deserted and incredibly peaceful villag

One day, I'd love to do a big trip dedicated to soccer. I'd start in Europe, going to some games (including seeing Manchester United of course) in England, then maybe go see a big game in Portugal, Spain, Italy, Germany...then on to lesser-known leagues in central and eastern Europe. And then? Well, the only real destination after that is South America, and besides Boca vs River Plate, catching a big game in Columbia would also be on my fantasy iteneary. I could barely hide my glee then, when I decided in the airport before my Thursday flight to Cartagena to check if there was any games on in Medellín that weeked, and learning that it was only the El Clásico, the Medellín derby, on Saturday. Atletico Nacional versus Independiente Medellín. Not long after landing, I quickly acquired tickets to the game. Fuck yes. The excitement I felt the day before the game was not matched on the morning of, mostly due to a bastard of a hangover having been out until 5 am on pub crawl shena

Irish people like to think that we can spot other Irish when we're abroad just by looking at them (which is true, we can). I think after living two years in the Netherlands, I can now do the same for the Dutch. I've been using this skill a lot in Colombia, because there's a whole lotta Dutch here. I shared a taxi from the airport to the centre of Medellín with two meneers from Amsterdam and The Hague. Yet another night time approach to a new place, but this one was the best yet. Medellín is located both in a valley surrounded by hills, and on the sides of the hills themselves. The airport is outside this urban basin, and the area where I was staying (Poblado, where most of the hostels and nice restaurants/bars are) is located on a mountainside south of the centre. When I got to my hostel rooftop the view was incredible. I spent five minutes with a beer in hand just drinking it all in (along with Martin, my dorm roommate - Dutch of course). A really nice, modern hoste