After a long day of travel from Peru: boat, pick up truck, plane, being fleeced by a dodgy airline (Ryan air are missing a trick not charging to check in), plane, taxi, bus, broken down bus (clutch not brakes), bus and taxi, we arrived in San Gil, 28 hours after leaving the Amazon. San Gil is a small town known for adventure sports. We bought some more appropriate clothing for the heat and booked our white water rafting something Callum really wanted to do. There had been horrendous rain on our journey and the rivers were very full so we went for the category 3 rapids despite Callum wanting to do the level 5. He did moan that it was quite tame but it was a lovely few hours down the river and quite scary enough.

We also visited a lovely old town nearby, Barichara, with a beautiful square and hike through the countryside mainly downhill which felt like a change. That night, we headed off towards the old river port town of Mompox on the overnight bus. All was going smoothly until we tried to change buses. It was delayed and we were told to check again at salida 4 at about 11pm. Absolute chaos ensued as every bus from that company went from there, with no signs, so much shouting and even Spanish speakers didn’t understand the tannoys. After annoying the lady at the barrier for 2 hours, she saw the funny side and waved us towards a bus- unfortunately it was one of 4 so we were still the helpless gringos with very little Spanish! It was worth it, however, as Mompox is a gorgeous place if you ignore the fact that every street except the riverfront has been dug up. There was a beautiful promenade with hanging lights, restaurants and huge iguanas due to flooding of the river. We stayed in an old colonial house with a little pool and met some interesting Columbians and a Polish/German man who liked to share his views on everything including those about Brexit, immigration and the racism in Germany and Poland of which he was very much a part. We felt very settled here and Callum even managed a run along the front.

Our next stop was Minca, nearer to the coast, again with a long bus journey through floods where people even attempted to stop the bus claiming it was too dangerous but the bus driver was having none of it just driving over the cones! We weren’t completely sure if they were “legit” either having started watching Narcos! After changing buses again in a dodgy looking town where Callum watched the match, our next part of the journey took forever and sadly included a dog with diarrhoea next to me! We arrived in Santa Marta too late for the local bus and after failing to organise a taxi on the way, we thankfully negotiated one that looked like it would die on the half hour journey up the mountain. We arrived to a very grumpy hotel owner in her nightie who showed us to our room with it’s spider sentry. We did enter and exit the room very quickly each time!

In Minca, we wanted to take a nearby coffee tour and so the next day walked up to the centre, after Callum had very bravely crossed the bridge whilst being laughed at by a 15 year old, to arrange a taxi. This turned out to be a ride on the back of a bike driven by a too young looking man who worryingly had a need for speed! We arrived in one piece (not sure I breathed or moved whilst on the back once) and took a tour with a friendly American family. We were quite shocked to learn that the coffee pickers earned 4,000 pesos a day (80p) despite it looking like jolly hard work as all the crops are on the mountain side. All the equipment was from London made in 1891 and they had their own workshop to create spare parts. Quite amazingly, all the processes and machines still worked. We also visited a local waterfall, another downhill and rutted adventure on the back of the bikes and then found a restaurant for the all important football match.

After the quiet of the mountain, we spent Saturday night in Santa Marta, a town on the coast with not such a great reputation. Despite that, we felt safe wandering round the streets, along the promenade, in the local museum and chatting to a lonely seeming Swiss ex-pat. Santa Marta at night was a riot of noise in the main square. We had cocktails whilst listening to a local band in the middle of the square, with Spice Girls from the Bob Marley bar next door, Maracas Mike with his portable speaker on a trolley (who looked 80 if he was a day), local rappers with a mic (who liked to rap at couples eating dinner) and a night club across the square. Quite an experience but a good spot for getting a feel for local life in Columbia. Music is absolutely everywhere. On every bus, salsa is playing loudly (with some even having it on a screen at the front next to the driver) and it even blasts out of every supermarket.

We spent the next 6 days in 2 places on the Caribbean coast. We had expected the waves to be big but they were so wild that unfortunately going in past your knees safely was not possible. It was quite pretty but extremely windy too. It was nice to be very lazy though. However, we did go to the national park for a 5 hour hike to some less than amazing beaches. We saw some wild monkeys on the way, scrambling through rocks and so much mud. Lots of people just took their shoes off and walked barefoot with mud almost to their knees! We had earned our beer that night. We did also find a nice little bar with cocktails for £1 and fish restaurant where we could sit and watch the pelicans fishing whilst we ate though so that was pretty cool.

We’re off next to Cartegena (fingers crossed for a better bus journey) and have high hopes for a shower with hot water which we’ve not had for a while! How our standards have dropped!