Travelling yagh

I've done some bits and bobs of travelling over the years, and the majority of people I meet and befriend are lovely and so interesting. I'm often in awe of people I meet who come from all over, fascinating jobs, backgrounds, intelligent and/or just hilarious. There are others who fall into some stereotype traveller categories which I'm going to go over in this blog so not my usual diary entry style. I'll call it a feature blog! You may have come across a combination of a few if you're really lucky...

The one upper

We all know this type of person in life. No matter what you've done this person can top you. You may have conquered Everest but this person has also done it blindfolded with the flu in half the time. 

The Christopher Columbus

Apparently this person has discovered something off the beaten track that NOONE else has done and won't stop banging on about it. 

 "Oh yeah the Inca trail crap is crap compared to this blah trail where we wandered for days alone to this [insert cool sounding place], and saw this rare species and slept outside under the stars" 

You're pretty sure you heard about this trail in the Lonely Planet and they've probably done an expensive tour but you let them have their moment. Which nicely leads me to...

The moment killer 

When you've done or seen something really cool and are feeling pretty chuffed and some divvy pisses on your parade. 

You, "Ah isn't this view incredible" 

Them, "Yeah but you obviously haven't been to [insert place that isn't on your itinerary or anywhere near], that's sooooo much better than here." Ooft. Cheers for that. 

The plastics

These are the Mean Girls of the travelling world. They exist in various guises but their key characteristic is they travel and stick in packs and make zero effort with you, unless of course you happen to be male. They often wear teeny impractical clothes regardless of the weather and then complain when they get blisters/wet/cold. 

Male readers you will have no clue who is in this category is as you'll be too busy thinking how cool they are or checking out their boobs/legs/bum. I once saw a lass in the hostel wear a net top and her bikini underneath was so small her nipple had fallen out. I was going to tell her but wasn't actually sure if that was the look she was going for as her mates said nothing. 

The clone  

This person has done exactly the same thing as you and you tell them that but they proceed to describe to you a detailed account of their activity. And not in a way that they want your opinion or recognise that you were also there. This can even be at the same event, "at one point they did this dance/scored a goal and it was sooo awesome"  And you're sat there thinking, umm yeah I was there. Does this person think I shut my eyes and ears? 

The hippy

The classic traveller. Rags on their head, maybe some tattoos, an unusual hairstyle of some sort; dreads on white people, maybe a rat's tail or the most recent trendy style the top knot. Lots of beads, bracelets and general crap that's probably made in China. If you go into you hostel dorm room and see bongos or a didgeridoo you've hit the jackpot of the classic hippy. You know they come from a middle class family and are probably rebelling. These people are usually harmless (unless play said random instrument in your room) and keep the local tye-dye shop in business so all good. 

The interviewee

We're may be guilty of this from time to time but this is the extreme form. This is the person who you'll ask a few questions and they'll give you their life story but ask you sweet f a about what you've been up to or where you're from or well anything, so you feel like you're just interviewing them. They also crop up at work, those people who you ask about their weekend and they give you an hour by hour account including their washing and ironing and don't ask how yours was and in your head you're thinking of saying, "Mine was good too, thanks for asking!!" But in reality you smile and say something really polite. And bitch about them later obviously. 

The party starters

No matter where they are in the world these people will find a party or just start their own. Bigger numbers of them mean mob mentality and they party even harder. They live in a different time zone and sleep in the day. They often see nothing of where they are for days until they feel a sense of guilt that they should do something touristy. I found many of these people in hostels in Oz (mainly Brits and Irish) but they exist everywhere from every country. When you want a bloody good night they're your best mate. When you want a night in you need to avoid them or be prepared to be persuaded to get on it and pay the price the next day.

The dementor 

They refuse to go in a dorm room, they won't eat the local food, won't get on a local bus and just generally whinge constantly. We all have our bad days but when it's relentless they are like the dementors out of Harry Potter and suck the energy and soul out of other people. 

The wannabe nomad

These travellers think they know it all and go on about how they've been travelling for ages but it's about 3 months. Yeah that's cool, but it's not that long. These guys try far too hard to enjoy their experience and tell you how spiritual and ethical they are (and blatantly work for Coca-Cola back home). I met a guy who told me he'd been travelling for 17 weeks. WEEKS. The only people who should talk in weeks if it's over 8 weeks, are pregnant women. Even then it's a struggle working out how preggo they are. He said "It's just easier than doing the math than 4 and 2 7ths of a month"... Yeah dude, rad. Orrr you can just say about 4 months as no one actually cares to the nth degree how long you've been travelling for apart from your mum. 

The nomad

This person has rarely held down a job for more than 6 months in their life and seems to have spent a decent chunk of their life travelling. Ba*****s. If you're unlucky they'll lord it over and be really annoying. Usually though these people are enthusiastic gems and will give you loads of advice and tips from how and where you can save money, avoid trouble and go somewhere brilliant. Most people travelling have a set time and a budget and can't possibly see everything. These people can be hugely helpful in helping you decide where to skip and what not to miss without breaking the bank. 

The eternal optimist

I'll happily admit I'm a realist like many Brits and will admit if I'm underwhelmed or just disappointed by something. So these people both can piss me off and can be uplifting depending on my mood. For example I thought Bogotá was a dump and felt unsafe there, the optimist will tell you it's edgy! When you've had enough of crap busses and cold showers the optimist will tell you it's an adventure!! Whilst these people drive me mad they're also bloody brilliant at lifting you up and reminding you to see the good in things. You didn't work your arse off and save money to sit around moaning so enjoy the sights, adventures and have a laugh at the crap times, besides it makes for a good story and blog material ;-) 

Hola Caribbean coast

Día nueve, Santa Marta 

To reach the coast I did a 14 hour overnight bus from San Gil to Santa Marta which had wifi the whole way. (Take note Richard Branson if he's reading this sort your Virgin trains out) I bought a huge burrito to eat on the bus which was daft as they're the messiest food ever and nigh on impossible to eat one without eating paper and tinfoil in the process. I arrived at my hostel, Drop Bear, which used to be a Colombian drug cartel HQ so it's a mansion, has a phallic shaped pool, a bar and they found caletas (hiding places) for stashing cash all over it. Pablo Escobar is known to have been here using this place as a hiding spot which is an eery thought. 

The town itself is nowt to rave about, busy, loads of markets and rubbish on the streets. I decide to explore and go to the local beach Rodadero, it's overcast but still hot. So the usual jump on a bus and see where the hell it takes me, I made it! Trip Advisor tells me it's a dive though I thought it was fine, not many tourists but lots of locals. The sand was so fine though and I somehow got it ALL over me including my face and couldn't get it off?!! I had no idea how everyone else looked so cool and I'm a pale sweaty sandy mess. 

That night I chilled at the hostel bar and played giant Jenga where each block has a dare/rule on which was a good laugh. And I was very thankful I didn't have to fondle the resident dog's giant balls. 

Día diez, Parque de Nacional de Tayrona

The main reason people to come to Santa Marta is for a base to go to Tayrona national park about an hour away. It's huge and the highest coastal mountain range in the world. Most people kip over on one of the beaches but I don't want to do that on my own so cram it into a day trip. I hop on a local bus (ahem bus pro). When I arrived there's a lot of faffing watching mandatory pointless videos and queuing for tickets. Then you get in another minivan to reach the start and I saw this huge black bird with a blue beak! Once I'm finally there, the walk is mainly forest like but pretty easy, I wore my running gear which worked perfectly as opposed to some other ladies who wore flip flops or err wedges. To do a hike?! The first beach I got to is pretty, it's empty as you can't swim in it as the sea is so dangerous. The next La Piscina is nice too, white sand and nice warm sea you can swim in so I have a little sunbathe and swim Oo err! Then I walked to the next beach Cabo which is where all the camping sites are, this part of the hike was full of horses carting people (wedges lady included) and stuff around. It ponged with horse poo. I looped back and by the time I got back to the start, about 4.15pm lots of bus drivers are trying to flog me pricy shuttles to Santa Marta. But I'm thinking Pah! I'm not even that tired, so decide I'll just walk the route back to the entrance and get the local bus, it wasn't that far. I think. Maybe. 

So off I trot on a huge open road. It went on FOREVER. I didn't see any more of those stupid ostrich birds (actual name blue-billed carrasows) but I did hear growling from the trees from monkeys which made me get a sweat on. As I kept walking on the other side of the road was a dog manically barking next to a lone motorbike. And dog lovers going "Ah he just wanted to play!" did he my arse. As I walked past it ran over to me barking, going berserk and it had a fat chain on it which was attached to NOTHING and I s*** a brick. I thought this is it, it's going be like that scene in Django Unchained where that guy is mauled to death by dogs. I legged it and it went more crazy, I then calmed it to a powerwalk and it ran back to the motorbike. After this traumatic experience I bolted it back (a mean feat in a strapless bikini) as I needed to make it back before the park shut at 5pm. A lot of adrenaline and a gallon of sweat later I made it to the main road. 

I couldn't get on a local bus as they were rammed so hailed down a big bus to drop me there for a good deal. Here's me thinking I can relax and a preacher talked/shouted non-stop the whole way, "Gloria a dios!" (Glory to God) and I weirdly found myself clapping along and putting my arms in the air when everyone else did, when in Rome and all that. They chucked me off at the edge of Santa Marta and I jumped on a local bus and made it back just before dark. Like Cinderella! Without, y'know, all the minor details. 

Día once, Santa Marta to Cartagena 

So my plan today was to go to Palomino, a remote beach place. But I woke up exhausted after yesterday's hike, covered in mossie bites and couldn't face the journey with my backpack which was two hours in the opposite direction from where I wanted to go next. I ended up getting a shuttle bus to Cartagena for a bargain which was dreamy, hassle free and air con. The route goes through Barranquilla which is apparently the most dangerous city in Colombia, it looks pretty shady. Weirdly both Shakira and Sofia Vergera, two of the most current famous Colombians are both from here?! I think they're from the middle class part. Still looks sketchy, huge iron gates and people guarding their places with baseball bats. Think I'll skip this one. When I arrive at Cartagena my bus drops me off in the street, I bumped into my mate Owen Pygram(!) with his girlf who tell me my hostel is ages from where the bus has dropped me. Oh. It's also BOILING here and it's 7pm. I eventually found my hostel and it's me and one old bloke. In the entire hostel. So even though I've paid already and no refund I decide to leave. Ballin' innit. (Ok it was 8 quid.) I went to another hostel Mamallena where he bus first dropped me doh and they had a bed, people and air con, nice one. I've actually been really sensible and not gone out alone at night in Colombia but this place is so touristy or should I say touristic... Sidepoint: In all my life I've NEVER heard this word and everyone keeps saying it here?! Turns out it is in the dictionary and yes my Cambridge degree is feeling like an utter waste of money.

Anyway so I have a gander, lots of gringo food - pizza, burgers you name it. The square is crazy busy with locals singing and chatting and just having a laugh. I found out it's a bank holiday the next day so no wonder they're getting on it. At the hostel I meet some interesting people including some lads from the Peace Corps (pronounced Core- did anyone else know it was spelt this way?!) teaching English in small villages in Colombia, the only volunteers in their villages. So admirable but no chance would I do that. I couldn't even last one night in a hostel on my todd. Plus my Spanish needs some polishing up before I start teaching, ahem.

Día doce, Cartagena 

Today is about wandering the city, it's empty as all the locals are at the beach, it's SO hot here I may melt at any point. I met a cool Canadian girl, Lotoya Jackson (who is no relation to Michael Jackson sos) and I gatecrash part of the free walking tour of city. Cartagena has a walled city (13km long) in which the buildings have to be either colonial or republican to fit in with the style of the town which works especially as they rely on so much tourism here. In fact it's the most touristy or touristic(!) place in Colombia I've been to as it's a major port to South America so lots of the cruise ships stop here so it's not just backpackers. Still it's not the safest and I've heard plenty of stories including dodgy police robbing people so I won't be letting my guard down. An Aussie lad Billy I met in San Gil saw my Instagram photos and found me in my hostel (my fans just won't leave me alone) and me, Billy and his mate went to watch the sunset on the city wall. Didn't take a photo (we've all seen a sunset before) but it was pretty beautiful. We also saw some newlyweds and the bloke tried to pick his (rather small) wife up for a photo and couldn't lift her an inch off the ground and I had to run away and wet myself laughing for a fair bit. A bunch of us went out in the evening and after wandering the quiet town we came back to find the busiest bar to be the one next to our hostel. Well that's convenient!

Día trece, Playa Blanca 

So I wasn't hungover not that it mattered as it was beach day! Playa Blanca is the nice beach here but it's a mish to get to. Luckily I make some fwends and we bosh it in a taxi to the beach. The days before we'd heard it was heaving because of the bank hol weekend but as it was a Tuesday it was pretty empty, hurrah! The sea was so clear and warm it was lovely especially as it was roasting here. People say you get harassed with people selling you stuff but it was fine, once you said no they went away. Apart from a guy selling beer who genuinely just sat his coolbox (chilli bin/esky/cooler for my international fans) next to us as we bought up his beer supply. I also had a delish meal here, 3 quid for a giant fresh fish, rice, salad and plantain, they love plantain here usually fried. With the sun and SPF 30 I promise I was hoping I may improve on the milky white tone to a honey tone.. But of course my shoulders, back and chest went a shade of lobster and got the most burnt I have IN MY LIFE. I was pretty jeal of Lotoya who said she went from milk chocolate to 85% cocoa. In 35 degree heat that night my body felt ON FIRE. Even some delightful boxed wine didn't help. Luckily I managed to get a cheap flight to my next stop so I've got a 45min flight not a 14 hour bus journey, hell yes. So I'm saying turrah to the Caribbean coast, I've had a good time but I'm keen to get out of this crazy hot/humid climate. My somewhat optimistic hopes were to leave bronzed but in reality I'm bitten and burnt alive. On the up I wasn't eaten alive by a dog. Ciao! 

Santander and some bus fun

Diá quatro, Bogotá to Bucaramanga 

¡Buenos dias! I'm up bright and early for my bus. I don't want to brag but I'm a bit of a bus pro after lots of them in Argentina and megabuses to Glasgow.

The bus is pretty nice, air con coach and comfy seats. This is where I was lulled or quite frankly conned into a false sense of security. This is how my journey roughly went... 

7.30am Woohoo I'm leaving Bogotá.

8.30am Wow there's so many hills this is so pretty - Struggles trying to take photo on 70mph bus. 

9am Yawn, I'll have a snooze - Gets out inflatable pillow, earplugs, eyemask (ahem bus pro)

10.15am Wakes up head smashing against the window. Cloth bag with picnic in (bus PRO) on the other side of the bus.

10.16am Lean over to get said bag, a sharp turn and comedically fall into the aisle and shout an expletive. 

10.17am Woah the scenery is stunning but the roads are so windy and this bus is going fast. 

10.18am Ugh I feel queasy, think I'll put my eye mask back on. 

10.30am I'm gonna be sick. I'm gonna be sick. Don't be sick.

10.50am So. Many. Turns. May be sick any moment. 

11.30am I AM GOING TO VOMIT EVERYWHERE. 

11.30am - 5pm repeat above 3 entries. 

By the time I got to my hostel I was a  mess, luckily I didn't throw up though a girl near me did. What made it more annoying was I didn't want to go to Bucaramanga - I wanted to go to San Gil, but the receptionist at my last hostel told me I couldn't go straight there I had to go to Buca then back. A total lie as my bus stopped loads including San Gil, he'd probably drop me off in Rio if I'd asked. It was the equivalent of telling someone if they wanted to go from London to Manchester they needed to stop off in Edinburgh first. Ooft. My hostel was pretty empty and I had a 6 person dorm to myself so at least got some rest. 

Diá cinco, Bucaramanga 

So the only thing I wanted to do here was go to Chicamocha canyon and of course it's closed for maintenance. I'm beginning to think people are just winding me up, how can you close a canyon?! Most advice isn't to stop in Buca (what the cool kids call it) as nowt much there but I actually liked it after Bogotá, far nicer/safer/greener/hotter/smaller. But I didn't want to hang out in a city so the hostel lady said to go to La Careja, some little mountain walk... Slight sweat on as it's not in the Lonely Planet! Rebel innit. It took me forever to find the local bus as I'd be daft to think there was a bus stop. There's no stops, you just tell the driver when you want to get off. Hmm. The route was spectacular, so green and high, my ears popped lots. I missed my stop but luckily only by a few so just waited until it turned round. I was expecting lots of tourists. I came across nada. The route was paved and I started storming up it until I realised the altitude was pretty high and made me feel dizzy so I took it a bit slower, and took in the view. It was INSANE. The best way I can describe it was like that scene in Jurassic Park where they arrive in the helicopter in awe... Without the dinosaurs obvs. It was a sea of rolling hills and mountains for miles with odd houses scattered. For the first time on my trip I thought, I cannot believe I'm here.... and not in a terrified way! 

As I waited on the road for the bus back, one came past, earlier than the guy had said but he stopped for me, "Para Bucaramanga?" "Si" So I jump on and then noticed the bus had 5 people on and the rest of the bus behind us (about 10 rows) was full to the ceiling of potatoes. For the next half an hour he we pick no one else up and it suddenly hits me. "Oh. Bollocks. Have I accidentally hitch hiked in a potato van?!" The way back he dropped off several huge bags of potatoes to some villages. When I got off with a few other teenagers I offered him 3000 pesos and he gave me back 1000, the way there was 4000 so I saved myself 2000 pesos and more importantly I RODE A POTATO BUS. Hell yeah. That's about 60p by the way, hey every penny counts and all that. 

Back at the hostel I meet a few nice people but this place is way to hippy/cool for me. Y'know people wearing rags round their heads and those huge baggy trousers/skirts that aren't flattering anyone. One bloke had half a beard- one half of his face was clean shaven and the other a big bushy beard. Watch out  Shoreditch, I've seen it here first!

Día seis, Buca to San Gil

Time to go to San Gil where I wanted to go in the flipping first place. So I get on the 6.30am bus/coach. And how this happened I don't know (bear in mind it's part of the same vom-inducing route here) I got cosy and woke up at 9.30am and of course I've missed my stop. Gaghh. After I flapped about, the bus driver basically told me to chill and at the next bus station in Socorro (15 miles/20k away) he got off and spoke to a few people (lots of ah gringo aka this British lass is a moron) and before I know it I'm on a bus back to San Gil and I don't have to pay anymore. Brillo pad! So my stupidity resulted in some Colombian kindness. That was the plan all along btw. 

San Gil is a nice little town where you can do lots of adventure sports and a few other things. After my hectic morning I decide to go and see a waterfall. I manage to get a local bus and, get this, get off at the right stop! The hike is pretty easy, a very pretty cobbled path and you guessed it beautiful scenery. There are also lots of weird and wonderful insects including some huge beetles here that apparently you can eat though I'll wait until I see them in a cafe before I start thinking I'm on "I'm a Celeb". The waterfall itself is nothing amazing but pretty and the water is so shallow you can walk through the river and I clambered around the rocks for some pictures. 

At the hostel, I meet lots of people hurrah! Well I say people, it was a sausage fest, me and 10 boys. Most from English speaking countries- Oz, America, UK.. All a good laugh so we all stayed up drinking beers and chatting. 

Día siete, San Gil/Curití

So I did want to go to Chicamocha canyon today but no one else was going there and the main thing to do was a cable car, well I can get on one of them in Saltburn ta (in north east England  if that reference means nothing). So I figured I'd do the adrenaline junkie thing and gatecrashed plans of two lads in my room, Sam and Lucas. 

I first went paragliding, it all happened so quickly that we got off the bus and next thing they're strapping me in and I'm up in air. I could see loads of tobacco and coffee fields and the Chicamocha canyon too as well as eagles flying about. The guy asked if I wanted to loop around, why not! Cue lots of screaming and laughing. The bloke got out his phone and checked his texts mid air (comforting) and took some selfies as you do. The lads said they could hear me scream lots and my face was sheer terror when we set off. What a shame there were no photos. We were all buzzing afterwards it was so much fun. 

Next stop, caving. I've done this before in NZ but this was different. There was only us 3 and together we vaguely managed to decipher some of what he was saying. The caves were really cool, lots of bats and huge stalactites. We got very wet and dirty slathering around on our arms in the water and I may have bricked it when it was so low we had to go underwater. To be fair it was 3 seconds, I survived. I felt like Lara Croft! Except without the huge boobs and I looked like a drowned rat by the time it was over. 

That night a bunch of us went to Gringo Mike's, if the name isn't a giveaway, it's a restaurant ran by a guy from Seattle, the food was delicious but epic portions, I couldn't even eat it all which is a rarity. 

Día ocho, San Gil y Barichara

Today a group of the lads are off on some hardcore canyoning thing, the Aussies are chilling after their 48 hour bender (impressive I know) so I go to Barichara, a local colonial village which was beautiful but so quiet it was almost eery. The streets were all cobbled and so clean and the houses all orange. It was quite hilly which led to some good photo ops and at the top the views from the other side of the valleys were breathtaking. I was a sweaty mess though it was so hot. 

At the hostel lots of us are leaving onto our next adventure, most notable is a lad Cory who is soon sailing on a boat with family friends from Hawaii to Fiji (25 days open water eek) and the Aussies who are off on a sailing adventure through the Caribbean, clearly they haven't seen Pirates of the Caribbean. A lot of chaos as just before our various busses there's a power cut and it chucks it down. Made it to my overnight bus though, and I'm off to the Caribbean coast, where the heat I'm told may kill me (I'm still white as a ghost btw). Wish me luck!

Bog-oh-tar

¡Hola! So I'm in Colombia. In case you didn't know I got made redundant at the end of April and having known about it for a while, my plan was to come to South America for a month or so before the job hunt starts. I am pretty nervous to be honest, not that I'm not a strong independent woman (insert Destiny's Child hand wave here) but it's not the safest place to be alone. I promise I will stay safe and not do anything too daft. Lots of my mates/family said I must write a blog again. NO PRESSURE! So here I go.

Diá uno, London to Bogotá

Well my flight was meh, long and I have a cold and cough. Films were crap- do not watch Foxcatchers- even with several wrestling scenes and a topless Channing Tatum it's so dull.

Despite proclaiming I'd learn some Español next time I was in South America, I am ashamed to say I haven't. I downloaded an audio book by Michel Thomas to learn the basics that I left until the flight to try. It seems good though the phrases seem bizarrely aggressive- "I need this, I want that, It's urgent why can't I have it"... So basically I'm all set up to barter with drug lords, brilliant. 

I arrived in Bogotá airport (which is pronounced Bog-oh-tar not Bo-go-ta as I've been saying it doh.) I got a licensed taxi for a good price after a few drivers tried to swindle me and my hostel is lovely, phew. The area it's in is really nice too, y'know stuff that everyone really needs... cool bars, sushi restaurants, Pilates studios and of course a pottery painting shop. If it was in the UK there'd be a little Waitrose and an Oliver Bonas. 

I've since discovered I paid the cheapest taxi from the airport to the hostel from everyone I've met - high 5 emoticon!! My tactical tip if you happen to visit Bogotá airport get out the exact cash and suggest that at the end rather than ask how much.*

*Disclaimer- I accept no responsibility if this results in kidnapping. 

Día dos, Bogotá

So I managed to get about 3 hours kip thanks to my cough. A bloke from reception CAME INTO our room at 2am turned the light on and told me to keep it down?!! He even did the Ross from Friends hand shushing!!!! (A hand duck open beak going to an almost closed beak for non-Friends fans, though why we're friends I'm not sure). Yeah because it's MY fault I am choking to death on my own flem (sos for tmi). Fortunately, or unfortunately as it turned out I followed the Election to pass time. A Tory majority? I mean. Really? Really?!! Ok I'll stop. 

Anyway, Colooombia. 

So in the hostel everyone is insanely friendly. I met a nice Brazilian girl in the loos for a minute and next she's asking me to dinner. Fast work. I was thinking I must be dead friendly looking because everyone wants to hang out together after 10 words of small talk. That is until I venture out on my own and discover Bogotá is well, mental. It's no frigging wonder they all want to hold hands together. 

For a start, it's enormous. The main transport system is the TransMilenio which is essentially their tube/subway except it's giant buses. If you're looking for a thrill ride and potentially a concussion you've come to the right place. The buses have their own lanes so they drive fast and brake sharply. It took me an age to find the station then of course I went the wrong route as it's the most confusing thing ever. Three buses, an hour and half later and feeling like I'd just been on Oblivion at Alton Towers without a seatbelt, I made it to Central Bogotá. 

Bogotá is nowhere like I've been before. It's really busy and chaotic or "bustling and vibrant" as the books describe it. It's a huge grid with hardly any green space apart from a huge sea of hills to the East (Monserrate) which are stunning. I wandered around Candelaria where the tourist attractions were and err this is awkward, but I thought it was a dump. Most of the statues and historical buildings were covered in graffiti which was a shame. Boliviar square was crammed FULL of pigeons, it made Trafalgar Square look like the Hilton of the pigeon world and they came to here to die. (I did actually see dead pigeons).

I made it to an art museum, Museo Boteró, which was to my surprise, beautiful. Inside the artwork was cool (lots of chubby things by Fernando Boteró funny enough) and the building and gardens were so pretty. There were lots of security guards and tourists (as I couldn't see any tourists in town!) and I felt relaxed here. After that I went to another good museum, Museo del Oro, full of metals, mainly gold that dated back thousands of years.

Back at the hostel I make some more travelling fwends - a British bloke Andy and two Brazilians Ana (my loo buddy) and Luiz. Andy is a doctor and got bumped up to business class on the way as a bloke got ill and he stepped in and the pilot asked him if they should land the plane?! I cannot imagine being asked that ha. Ana is obvs ridiculously beautiful and gets all dolled up. I stupidly only brought a mascara for make up and have been smothering my face in Vaseline as it's so chapped from blowing my nose. Sexy. I attempt to look human and we went out locally and had delicious bife de lomo and cervesas (steak and beers, I'm all over this). Hurrah, I recovered my day. 

Diá tres, Bogotá

I feel raring to go after sleeping lots yay. I back on the TransMilenio and I've got this shizzle down, the right bus route, two hands on poles and some core strength and I made it to the right stop quickly with no injuries. It was still a decent way to walk to where I wanted to go - Monserrate (hills I was on about), and pretty ropey. They don't seem to care about pedestrian safety here and just walk in front of cars willy nilly so I decided when in Rome and all that, don't want to stand out like a tourist. So I may lose a limb in an accident but I'm sure I've lowered my risk of a mugging. So I made it to the base of Monserrate, knackered as the route was uphill and feeling very headachey with the altitude. I had to stop off at the Esso garage for emergency bickies en route. Pretty cultural me. Our mam carries round "emergency biscuits" and I've asked her what situation she would ever be in to need a biscuit urgently - she can't have a cuppa tea without a snack apparently. And now I'm eating my words as I've now got emergency biscuits and crackers in my rucksack.

I couldn't walk up Monseratte as the path was closed (boo) so I got the cable car up. At the top the view of the city is so vast, but I actually preferred the view from the city looking at Monseratte. It's so green and beautiful flowers everywhere, apparently it's a populist pilgrim destination. It was pretty quiet for a Saturday though, sounds w***y but I found it very peaceful compared to Bogotá which feels exhausting. 

Whilst the people in my hostel were so friendly and a right laugh, despite my shocking lack of Spanish and being a germ fest, I've had enough of Bogotá. I'm not a fan and it can Bog off- see what I did there tee hee- as I'm heading north for some countryside! Night in for me as I prepare for my 8 hour bus trip. If there's no bingo I'm kicking off. Adios :) 

Here's some of my Instagram pictures if you haven't seen them already - mostly of the touristy stuff as I didn't feel safe getting my iPhone out in the ropey places in Bogotá. (@sophiebennett1)