Day Fifty: On My Own, Last Day in Colombia

Another cold and rainy day in Bogota. I sleep in and spend the morning sorting out details of my trip to Buenos Aires.

I go to the gym and work out for the first time in about a week. I don’t feel guilty about skipping sightseeing today.

I spend about an hour on the phone with Copa Airlines trying to redeem my credit for my cancelled flights and apply it to my flight to Buenos Aires tomorrow. Finally they tell me I need to head to the local Copa Airlines office to do it. The whole process is unnecessarily complicated.

I walk to the office, where the ladies behind the desk do not speak English. I struggle to come up with the Spanish to explain that I want to use my credit. I have a handy iPhone app that translates what I need to say. I love technology. I’m not sure where I’d be without it. Certainly not in Buenos Aires. I am also determined to continue to learn Spanish to avoid this situation in the future. Even though she is able to understand me eventually, it turns out I can only use my credit with Continental because I booked my original flights through them. I booked my Buenos Aires reservation with Copa, so I need to pay for the entire fare, plus an extra $40 because I am paying at the office rather than on the Internet. Now its too late to pay on the internet. I am frustrated by all of this, but nonetheless, I have my ticket to BA tomorrow morning.

On my way back to the hotel, I stop in a grocery store and pick up a few snacks to avoid another costly raid on the minibar, for which I’ve been a guilty culprit. As the lady at the register rings me up and asks me a question in Spanish, I realize that today is the first day that i am really on my own since arriving, without a Spanish speaker to help me. But it won’t be long before I have Inez in Buenos Aires.

I have a 10 hour journey tomorrow. I can’t make the same mistake I made on my flight here. I load my iPad with entertainment; guidebooks for Buenos Aires and some new music I picked up in Colombia.

An email from Apple about the release of the iPad 2 is unwelcome news considering that I bought this one a little over a month ago. But alas, it is the nature of the product and I needed this device long before March 11.

I meet Jonathan, Lolo’s friend, for a drink. He is another one of the 4,000 Colombian Jews. He takes me to a tapas restaurant in downtown Bogota. On the way to the restaurant we drive by apartment buildings. Most are between four and seven stories high. He explains that there were only small houses here a few years ago.

Jonathan

I try to roll down the windows and Jonathan explains that his car is bullet proof, so they only go down about two inches. He bought the car because bullet proof cars are exempt from the pico y placa law. I ask why but it’s not very clear. I can only imagine it must have something to do with the type of person who needs a bullet proof car. Jonathan explains that he needed to go through a process to prove that he was simply a law abiding citizen who happens to drive a bullet proof car and there isn’t any reason he needs the protection more than anyone else.

Me and Jonathan’s bat taking on the bullet proof car

Photo opt with the bullet proof car and bat

After delicious calamari, good wine, great conversation and disappointing steak, we head to a going away party for one of his high school friends, where I meet many of Jonathan’s friends from high school.

Jonathan and me

I quickly connect with Kika. She recently opened her own boutique here in Bogota. I plan to see it when I come back. I do plan to come back here soon, perhaps on my way home.

The DJ played some Motown favorites and some funkFashion in Bogota is not up to Kika’s standards, or any standards for that matter. She studied fashion in Milan and worked for Missoni as a designer. She explains that everyone in Milan dressed to the nines and made a statement. Walking down the street or in the subway in Milan, she was inspired by what people were wearing. Here in Bogota, people just don’t care. She is going to a fashion competition in Medellin, Colombia’s fashion capital, but still a far cry from New York, Paris or Milan. The winner of the competition gets to go to New York, which is where she would really like to be.

Kika

“Here, I am somebody,” she explains. “In New York, there is little certainty of any attention to my line or success.”

I love her outfit. She definitely stands out in her tailored jacket and sparking harem pants that she designed. I wish her the best of luck and look forward to seeing her, whether its in Bogota, Cartagena or New York.

Me and Kika I am talking to Max, Kika, Jonathan and Nicolas. They are all friends from high school. Nicolas invites us over after the party. I meet his German shepherd who is a big cutie. Max offers to introduce me to Kike, his “Argentine brother” and I am very grateful considering I know no one in BA.

After hanging out for a while, I decide to go to my hotel for a few hours of sleep before my flight.

Max

Day Fourty-Nine: I'm On A Horse

We wake up early for our horse ride.  I am on Arrocera.  She is 10 years but still has plenty of energy.  We stop at a small water hole, where Wilmar, our guide, goes for a dip and we run into some fellow tourists from Japan and England.

Wilmer takes a dipWe continue on to an Ostrich farm.   In the wild, there are eight females for every male.  I ask what happens to the other males.  Apparently, when males meet, they fight to the death.  The survivor is the Alpha male.

Funny looking birdThe alpha male chooses the alpha female.  He chooses her after she dances for him.

Alejandro feeds the ostrichAlejandro feeds one of the females.  They are bizarre looking creatures.  When they attack, they use their feet and they kick really hard.  “Hard enough to kill a lion,” Sanda tells us.  They also can run up to 40 km per hour.

Stray dogs in townWe ride back to town, pack up and check out.  I realize that we never gave them our passports or credit card when we checked in.  Alejandro had to hunt down the parking lot attendant to pay him.  People seem to be very honest here.  I feel safe in this town, where there are unarmed policemen on every block whose purpose seems to be giving directions, rather than patroling.

After a snack at Pasteleria Francesa, a french bakery in town, we hit the road.  We take a shortcut on the way back to avoid driving through Tunja, the capital of Boyaca where there is traffic and little to see.

The selection at Pasteria FrancesaWe weave around the mountains on a small country road.  We are at a very high altitude, in the clouds. 

Alejandro weaves around the mountains

About three kilometers away from the main road back to Bogota, we hit a road block.  There is a line of cars and trucks, standing idly.  We wait a few minutes and decide to see what is going on.  Apparently they are fixing a portion of the road.  It’s unclear how long we will have to wait, but the alternative route will take us back to where we came from and an extra hour.  Alejandro reminds me that we are in a third world country.  It is very easy to forget.  Colombia feels very developed. 

A road block we hitI look on google maps and see a road that could get us to the road to Bogota.  We check it out and it’s a one lane dirt road.  Bad idea.  We get back in line at the road block.  I pull out my Spanish book and practice lecion número cinque.  After thirty minutes we start moving.

The back road we tried to take to avoid waiting endlessly for the road block to clearWe can’t come back into Bogota until after 8pm tonight because of a rule called Pico y Placa.  Two days a week, you can’t use your car between 7am and 8pm in Bogota.  The days you’re restricted on depend on the last digit of your license plate and today is one of the days that Alejandro’s car is restricted. They have this rule to deal with the severe traffic problem in Bogota.  The timing works out well though and we cross into Bogota at 8pm. 

Alejandro has been a great host.  I am so thankful to him for showing me a beautiful part of Colombia.

He drops me off at the JW Marriott, where I plan my trip to Buenos Aires.  I leave on Saturday morning.  See more pictures.

Day Fourty-Eight: Villa de Leyva

Alejandro picks me up and we drive to Villa de LeyvaAlejandro picks me up 1pm and we drive three hours to Villa de Leyva, a small colonial town in the Andes. 

Puente de Boyaca

We stop at Puente de Boyaca (the Bridge of Boyaca) on the way.  Its a small bridge and monument to commemorate the Battle Of Boyaca, in which Colombia was granted independence. 

On the drive

We arrive in Villa de Leyva

We drive into Villa de Leyva and the roads become cobblestone, big cobblestones.  It is a small and quiet town.  I bet this place is very busy on weekends, but it is empty during the week.

Me in Villa de LeyvaPlaza Mayor

We grab a bite in the Plaza Mayor.  Talking to Alejandro, it strikes me how different his childhood was from mine.  When he was a boy, his father was the secretary of customs during Escobar’s reign.  There were always guns around.

The church in Plaza Mayor

He has eleven aunts and uncles and over fifty cousins.  Family affairs sound like major events.  He tells me about how his uncle took him, Felipe and his other cousins when they were very young, to watch him stab a pig in the heart.

Plaza MayorIt rains off and on and it is cold in the mountains.  I did not pack for this weather in Colombia.  See more pictures.

Day Fourty-Seven: Medellin, Bogota and Good-bye to Alanna

We eat breakfast and I book my hotel in Bogota for tonight.  I email Gustavo, my Colombian friend from New York, to see if he has any friends in Bogota that he could put me in touch with.  It will be my first night on my own so I want to make contacts. 

Roman’s driver, Wilfer, picks us up and takes us to the botanical gardens.  Alanna points out that Colombia’s preservation and respect for the environment is impressive.  Wilfer agrees but explains that it is a little late and the environment has been given importance only in past 20 years. Butterfly at the Botanical Gardens

We take the metro and transfer to a gondola, which we ride up the mountainside.  Medellin is only city in Colombia with a metro, which is a great source of pride in the city.  Apparently Escobar offered to pay for many public works, such as the metro, and to repay Colombia’s debt, some $13 billion, but the government declined the offer.

The Metro

Wilfer tells us about a recent news story here.  La Lechuza is Colombia’s national bird and makes appearances at the soccer games.  Apparently on Sunday, the bird got a little out of control, and one of the country’s best and favorite soccer players was frustrated with the bird so he kicked it and killed it.  There is outrage across the country.

Article on LechezaAs we ride up on the gondola, Wilfer explains that the higher we are, the poorer the area is.  The Military displaced people and pushed them up the mountain.  As we go further up, the areas have less infrastructure and more violence.

A library on the mountainside

Alanna and I are on our way to the airport and I get an email from Alejandro, Gustavo’s Colombian friend from Lehman.  He is in his last year at Yale Business School and he’s in Bogota visiting home.  He offers to show me around.

Alanna and I land in Bogota where Gilberto picks us up.  We wanted to check out the Candeleria and take a funicular up to a monestary that is supposed to have amazing views.  We get stuck in traffic so we don’t have time for the funicular, but we check out the Candeleria and have the “Chocolate Completo” at La Puerta Falsa before grabbing dinner at Harry’s, Lolo’s favorite restaurant.

La Candelaria

Chocolate Completo at La Puerta Falsa

Gilberto takes us to my hotel, where I say goodbye to Alanna.   After an hour to decompress, Alejandro picks me up and we head to Andres DC, where we meet his cousin Felipe and friend Hannai.

Felip and Hannai at Andres DCAlejandro, Felipe and me
Alejandro asks me what I want to do here.  I ask, “What I should do?”  We decide to take a trip outside Bogota.  The amazon or Villa de Leyva.  The amazon will take a few days and I am leaving for Buenos Aires, so a short trip to the countryside is the likely plan.   See more pictures.

Day Fourty-Six: Medellin

 

On the plane to Bogota I am sitting next to a couple with a three month old baby.  They sit down and the baby begins to cry hysterically.  A crying baby, wonderful…

The father next to me gives the baby his milk and the baby smiles and stops crying.  He is really cute, amused by everything.  So tiny.  The father clearly adores his son.  He kisses him over and over on his forehead.  It is sweet.  I learn the baby’s name is Juan Andreas. I watch as the father changes Juan Andreas’s bib and puts his sweatshirt on over his tiny arms and I wonder what kind of man Juan Andreas will become.  A little Colombian.

We run in a circle at the Bogota airport to make our connecting flight to Medellin.  We go through the same security checkpoint and waiting area that we went through nine days ago when we took our flight to Santa Marta.  It feels like yesterday that we were here but we have experienced so much since arriving in Colombia.  

Medellin countryside

We land in Medellin, the city of flowers and once home to Pablo Escobar.  We find Ricardo who is holding a sign with our names on it.  Ricardo is loading our bags in the car and Roman calls him to check in on us and make sure we arrived.  Ricardo tells us that he has a daughter named Katherine, who goes by Katie too.  He shows us a picture of her with his grandchildren.  Two of them are in Holland and one is in Spain.  

 

The countryside here is gorgeous.  Rolling hills of green.  Crisp air.  It feels like Spring.

Ricardo tells us that Medellin has 3 million people and it is 1,400 meters above sea level.

After settling at the hotel, we head Pueblito Paisa, a kitschy tourist site on top of a mountain that has displays of the radio station and rooms in the homes as they were in the 1940s and 1950s.  It is a mini version a typical Antioquian town.

 Ricardo has lived in Medellin his whole life.  He tells us that there was a nice restaurant up in this Pueblito but it had to close because after the trafficking it wasn’t attracting the same type of money.

   

Pueblito Paisa

Medellin had one of the highest homicide rates in the planet when it became the worlds cocaine capital under Pablo Escobar in the 1980s.  Gun battles were very common.   After he died in 1993, this city became one of the safest in Latin America.

 At Pueblito Paisa

Radio station at Pueblito Paisa

It is raining and starts to pour.  A good day to go to a museum.  We see a lot of Fernando Botero’s work.  He was born in Medellin and is known for his volumous figures. New Yorkers may know him for his sculpture of the bull on Wall Street.

Pablo Escobar Muerto by BoteroPlazoleta de las Esculturas

Visit of Luis the XVI and Marie Antoinette to Medellin by Botero (they’ve never been to Medellin) at the Museo de Antioquia

“What I say is that they are not fat, but volumous,” he says of his figures.  See more pictures.

Day Fourty-Five: And Then There Were Two

Alanna and I are going to the islands today.  Outside Cartagena, there are many beautiful islands.  I’ve been told by many people that they are worth a visit.  

We wake up around 7:30am and take a taxi to the boat the hotel arranged for us. After a 40 minute ride we arrive at Isla Rosario, the largest island.  Most of the islands are private.   

On Rosario, there is only one small hotel, which is where we dock.  The guide is telling us about our options for the day when Alanna runs to the bathroom.  I don’t understand what he is saying.  As a result, we miss the opportunity to snorkel and see the other islands.  

 We came here to see the islands so after lunch we negotiate with two young local boys to take us on a boat ride for $20.  We feel better about the day once we are out on the water. 

The small native town on Rosario

We return to Rosario and go for a short walk. Behind the hotel we find a small town of natives.  There are forty people living here.  They have no electricity.  They are friendly. 

We leave the island at 3pm and it takes us two hours to get back to Cartagena because the waters are too  choppy to return the same way that we came so we take an alternative route through a canal.

The boys who took us out to see the islands

We are meeting Señor Javier and some other local friends for dinner.  A horse drawn carriage pulls in front of the hotel and we climb in and head to La Vitrola.

At La Vitrola

La Vitrola is a favorite among the locals in Cartagena. Everyone has said that we must go.  It has a fun and lively atmosphere and a live band.  

Roman helps us with our accommodations in Medellin.  “He is the king of Medellin,” Javier says in Spanish, which Alanna translates for me.  He arranges a driver for us and books us a room at his hotel, hotel San Fernando.  “In Medellin, there are the most beautiful Colombian women and it is Spring all year round. Flowers are always in bloom,” Roman tells us.  

I am excited to go to Medellin and grateful for our new friends.  I am so fortunate to have met so many people on my trip that have helped us.  People in this country are very hospitable.

After dinner we come back to the hotel, pack and tuck ourselves into bed.   We leave for Medellin in the morning.

Day Fourty-Four: I'm On A Boat, Part III

 

I emerge from my slumber at 10:10am after my alarm has been buzzing for 10 minutes.  The other girls got up early to have a full day in Cartagena.  It is Meghan and Julia's last day in Colombia.  They are flying back to New York this evening.

I have been off the grid for a week so I spend some time catching up on emails over breakfast before joining the girls in the afternoon.

I am walking around the old city and it feels like I've been here before.  I could be in Italy, Spain or one of the Greek islands.  The plazas, narrow streets, vendors and cafes make Cartagena feel very European.  I need to remind myself that I'm in Colombia.  The old city also reminds me of the french quarter in New Orleans, with art being sold on the streets, horse drawn carriages and balconies with flowers and greenery hanging from them.

The wall was built around the city to protect it from the Spanish.

As the girls shop for jewelry, I am on the phone with American Express canceling my flight from Bogota to Cartagena, which I booked before we decided to change our plans and go to Cartagena first.  Because I booked the flight along with my other flights from Cartagena to Panama City and Panama City back to New York, I am unable to cancel only one leg of the trip.  I clearly won't be able to make my flight from Bogota to Cartagena so I need to cancel the entire string of flights and receive airline credit.  I no longer have a flight home.  The uncertainty of where I am going next is exciting.

A painting that I bought. I plan to hang it above my couch.

It's a little after 5pm and its time for Meghan and Julia to head to the airport.  Alanna and I say goodbye to them and wish them a safe trip.

We are planning to meet Lolo for dinner at La Vitrola, but at 6:30 I receive a text from Lolo about a different plan.  He is picking us up at 8:30 sharp.  "Be ready, and eat before, we are going in a boat," he says.

A boat!  Don't ask questions when invited on a boat.  Just go.

It's 8:30. Javier, the bell man, knocks on our door and informs us that Señor Lolo is waiting for us downstairs.

We climb into a silver Toyota 4Runner. Everyone here has this car.  People drive SUVs because the roads are so bad.

I sit next to Rolo, Lolo's friend, in the back.  Manolo is driving.  Manolo and Rolo live in Cartagena.  Manolo is in the palm oil business. Rolo owns real estate and has other various businesses.

Lolo explains that taking a boat out in the evening is a very rare opportunity.  It isn't typically permitted, but the boat we are going on belongs to Al Fonzo and he owns the port.

The PortWe arrive at the dock, where we meet Al Fonzo and Melissa, who greet us with champaign.

Al fonzo is a gracious host.  He makes sure our glasses are always full.

Lolo, me and MelisaaAl Fonzo's catamaran is beautiful.  We are sitting in the front of the boat and Rolo tells me about Cartagena outside of the historic walled city.  There are many tall buildings and what appears to be an impressive skyline, but all of the buildings are dark.  Some only have one floor with light ons, others are completely dark.   Rolo explains that they are apartment buildings, which are used as vacation homes.   He lives in an apartment in this part of the city.  "Locals don't live in old city because there is no parking," he tells me.

Rolo with his fanWe pass the convention center.  It is a beautiful venue where there are many weddings.  It was once a very unsafe and dirty part of town. I learn that Cartagena was not always the way it is now.  "Fifteen years ago, you would never go to the old city.  Inside the wall it was very dangerous.  Only homeless people and squatters lived there," Rolo explains.  Colombia has reinvented itself since the days of Pablo Escobar.  I am surprised and impressed by how developed the country is.

When I told my friends and family that I was going to Colombia, many of them expressed concerns about safety. In the US, there is still a negative stigma about Colombia because of it's history as a drug capital. Things have really change here in the last two decades however. Compared to it's neighbors, Colombia is relatively safe and prospering.  If I were in Mexico, the concern would be warranted.

"This is something you could only do with the locals," Rolo explains of our boat ride.  "Tourists don't get to see this Cartagena. The best way to see a place is to go with the locals."  It's true.  See more pictures.

Day Fourty-Three: I'm On Boat, Again

On the boat. Goodbye Tayrona!We wake up early for our last yoga practice, pack our bags and shuttle onto the boat.  We return to Santa Marta by water.  We stop in a cove for a swim and some lunch before docking in Santa Marta. 

There are a few tall apartment buildings on the shore.  It is a little bizarre because there is so much empty land around.  Why not build a house on the water?  I learn that when Colombia was much more dangerous, people opted to live in the apartments for safety. 

We arrive at Santa Marta

We load the van, drop a few girls off at the Santa Marta airport and drive for three hours to Cartagena.  When we arrive, we drive into the walled city.  The roads are narrow, a city of small alleys.  It takes forever to get around, but the people here love the slow pace.  Everyone knows each other. 

Dinner at Juan Del Mar

Alanna, Julia, Meghan and me in CartagenaThere is a film festival going on in Cartagena and a lot of people came into town for it, including Lolo, Nacho’s best friend who is from Colombia and has been advising me on where to go and what to see throughout my trip.  He knows his way around here.  Lolo is one of 4,000 Jews in Colombia.  Jews account for 0.1% of the Colombian population.  He has piercing blue eyes.  We weren’t going to cross paths before we changed our plans, but he texts me to see how I was doing and where I was.  When I tell him Cartagena, he exclaims that he is too.  He invites us to one of the parties for the film festival.  His good friend produced a film, Pablo’s Hippos, and after a late dinner at Juan del Mar we meet him at the after-party.

Everyone at the party is beautiful.  Toned, tan.  They are glowing.  They are happy.  They are salsa dancing. 

Lolo!

Our hotel is beautiful.  Our ceilings are at least 15 feel tall.

The base from the party next door vibrates through our walls as we drift to sleep.  See more pictures.



Day Fourty: El Cabo

I wake up at 10am after 11 hours of much needed sleep.  Arepas for breakfast and we head to the nude beach, which is virtually empty.  There are two couples on the far end.  We pass them on our way back.  You don't want to look but can't help it...

I bought a bag from this man

I walk down to the next beach and meet Rohit, Fabrizio, Lorenzo.  They were with four other people whose names I didn't get.  Aside from the couple from France and Fabrizio and Lorenzo from Italy, no one in the group knew each other before their trip.  They met on the six day hike to and from the lost city.  Rohit is from New York.  He is a trader for Citi on his 2 week mandatory leave.  Fabrizio is a manager for Alitalia and Lorenzo is a train conductor in Italy.  There is a sunburned man from Germany, a lady from London and the couple from France who I didn't get a chance to speak to, but I plan to meet later at the tents at El Cabo. 

Alanna, Julia, Meghan decide to change our plans for after Tayrona.  We are booked to fly back to Bogota and spend two days there before Meghan and Julia fly back to New York and Alanna and I continue on to Cartagena.  We want to change our flights so we will take a bus with the group from here to Cartagena before heading on to Medellin for two days.

We hike to the area by the banana trees where there is a little reception to make the changes.  It takes over an hour and a half to change it.  G, L's boyfriend, left earlier today to head back to New York.  He got to the airport and he couldn't find his passport.  L is with us trying to get in touch with him.  He missed his flight.  He is coming back to the villa.

Yoga starts at 6pm and goes for two and half hours.  We have a late dinner and it is too dark to make the twenty-minute trek back to El Cabo once we finish.  Perhaps I'll see my new friends tomorrow.

After dinner, we sit under the stars.  The moon is hiding tonight so the sky is lit up with stars.  No moon also means the bugs are out.  A praying mantis befriends us.

L tells us about her first trip to Colombia with G, who is from Calle, Colombia.  Her bag didn't make it and she had a black tie event to attend so she had to find a dress.  She went to every store in Calle that sold fancy dresses but not one fit her because they were all huge in the breasts.  Most of the women here have boob jobs.  Colombia is a huge plastic surgery destination.  G tells me that for their fifteenth birthday, most girls are given the option of a boob job or a trip to Europe.  They all get the boob job.

Good music, caiparinas and stories before heading to bed.  I like being without television or internet.  The lack of distractions allows me to relax and disconnect for a little while.  See more pictures.

Day Thirty-Nine: A Hike to Pueblito

Our yoga studioWe are going a hike today to an ancient city.  Our 6:30am wake up is not pleasant, but I'm looking forward to it.  We have a big breakfast and head off on the trail.  I thought the hike was 3 hours each way, but it turns out it is going be 3 hours total, so not bad, but every fiber in my body is sore from yoga.  L's classes are intense.  She pushes us.

I love L's story.  I feel like we share such a similar experience.  She worked at one of the large investment banks in Sales.  She hated her job but for a long time she was reluctant to quit.  A number of compounding factors and people finally drove her to quit and then she started a yoga studio.  She wants to help people and to teach people.  "Everything happens for a reason," she tells me.  I couldn't agree more.  We've learned the same lesson:  If you're not happy, identify the source and change it.

Meghan gets a ride on our hikeA one and a half hour uphill trek and we arrive at Pueblito, the "ruins", to learn that they are not ruins at all.  It is a city from the 1500s built by the natives. About 2,000 people lived here.  The terraces that the huts were built on are all that is left.  The lost city we thought we were seeing is actually a three day hike.

There is one family living here in a hut.  A man shows us how they turn the coco leaves into powder, which we know as cocaine.  We chew on the coco leaves and it numbs our tongues.

Coco leavesThe natives would chew the coco leaves while working in the fields.  It gave them energy to work all day.

The hutWe spend about 30 minutes in the town before heading back to the villa.  Beach, lunch and siesta on the hammocks before yoga.  Yoga is especially hard today.  My muscles ache, but I push myself to get the most out of it.  I have a drink after dinner and put myself to bed.  See more pictures.

Me Tarzan

Day Thirty-Eight: First Day in Paradise

I wake up to birds chirping and a rooster crowing.  We have a bite to eat and then begin our yoga session around 9am.  My muscles are fatigued, but it feels great.  This session was a little easier than last night's, thankfully.  We head to the beach.

The view from our roomI take a hike with a few of the girls to another beach.  It is also beautiful.  We pass El Cabo, a camp site.

Me and Alanna at El CaboOver dinner, I talk to Julie.  She’s from Canada and she works for a yoga apparel company.  She lives in a studio on the lower east side.  She’s been there about a year.  She tells me about her loft in Vancouver. “It was enormous.  I could throw parties.  Now I live in a closet," she tells me.  "But I’ve wanted to live in New York since I was nine years old and I made it.  I am 33 and finally, I made it.”

Dinner, yum!She tells me about the places in the states she's been and how amazing the country is.  “I just wanted an American passport.  You can go anywhere,” She says.  I know it’s hard to get an American visa, but its easy to take for granted how lucky I am to have been born in America.  It is an incredible country.  If I wanted to move to California after this trip, all I really need is a flight ticket.

I have international friends working in New York on a visa.  If they get laid off or fired they have a very short time frame to find a new job or they have to leave.  They may need to take an undesirable job just to stay.  They can’t do what I am doing right now.

Day Thirty-Seven: Car, Airplane, Van and Horse to Tayrona

Gilberto picks us up at 5:30am.  We go to the car and meet his daughter, Stephanie, who he brought along to translate.  When I texted Lolo last night to arrange the pick up, I failed to mention that there are four of us now and that Alanna speaks Spanish.  We squeeze into the tiny purple hatchback.

Gilberto unloads our bags at the Bogota airportGilberto swerves around potholes the size of manholes as we race to airport to catch our flight to Santa Marta.  The roads are chaotic.  Red lights and stop signs are treated as suggestions.  We whip around a tight corner and barely avert a t-bone collision.  This reminds me of driving in India, where people drive on the wrong side of the highway.  I never understood why they did that.

Waiting for our flight

We get to the airport, check in and our flight is delayed.  Once we arrive in Santa Marta a van is waiting for us.  We load up and drive about an hour to the park.  Once we get into the park, we drive a couple of miles on windy dirt roads.  We park and load our luggage onto the donkeys and get on our horses.

I am riding Otto.  He is anxious and he needs to be leader.  We start in the back but he decides that he belongs in the front. I oblige and we lead the pack. 

The ride is long, through tiny foot passes, rocks and mud.   Aldo, who is escorting us on foot, does not speak a word of English.  But both we give each other a little lesson in the others language.  I ask "Como se dice?" as I point to Otto.

"Caballo," he replies.

"In English, horse," I say pointing to Otto.

Aldo

After riding though the forest for about an hour and a half, we come to an open area and I see the sea.  It's incredible.

Otto and the view Finally, I can let Otto run to his heart’s desire. He wades in the shallow water before galloping down the beach.  I feel the earth move under him.  We are both liberated.

We arrive at the villa, which is directly on the beach.  A lady gives me a coconut with a straw in it.  This is paradise.

The villa has only the essentials, but everything you need.  There is no power until 6pm.  No hot water, no internet, no phone service.  Pure bliss. A massive boulder serves as a foundation for the building.
We arrive at our villa

We have lunch and relax on the beach.  We begin our Yoga session at five and continue into the sunset.  It is a challenging two hours but focusing on breathing is easy when the waves of the ocean are there to guide you.

The view from our villaWe shower and get to know each other better over dinner and drinks before falling asleep to the sound of the ocean.  All of my dreams take place on the beach or near the ocean.

Meghan relaxes on the beach



Day Thirty-Six: En Route to Colombia

While waiting on line, I wonder out loud why it is so busy today.  Who is flying?  Adam in front of me points out that is Friday of Columbus Day Weekend.  I didn’t even know what day it was.  That it is a holiday weekend doesn’t mean much to me, except that I have to travel with the masses.  Adam is flying to China today.  He works for his family business, manufacturing toys.  He is going over there to check on the operations.  He has been making this trip since he was 18 years old.  He didn’t have much say about it.  About 45 minutes later I am through security.
Security line at NewarkI get to my gate as the woman at the desk announces "boarding rows 20 and higher." I look at my ticket for my seat. 23D.  Here we go.  I get to my seat and can finally relax.

The flight is about six hours.  I didn't plan to entertain myself for those six hours.  I notice a man watching a movie on his iPad  across the aisle in front of me.  I should have downloaded something; magazines, games, books, movies, Spanish lessons.  That is why I got this device.  I forgot to put it on my to do list.  If it's not on the to do list, it is unlikely to be done.  I learn for next time.

Gilberto, the driver Lolo arranged for me, is waiting for me at the airport.  He doesn't speak a word of English.  My Italian doesn't help me here.  After a song and dance we establish where I am going and how much it will cost.  I need to learn Spanish, ASAP.

GilbertoI am the first to arrive at the hotel.  We are staying at the JW Marriott in Bogota.  It is a brand new hotel and very comfortable.  I take a nice long shower, wrap myself in a robe and order room service.  Around 11:30, Meghan, Julia and Alanna arrive. It's good to see them. They look defeated, exhausted.  We go downstairs for a bite before calling it a night.