Medellin: The Beautiful City, The Beautiful Women

Medellin

The city of Medellin is about half the size of Bogota and much warmer and at a lower altitude.  It is the only city in Colombia to have a metro and is famed for having the most beautiful women in Colombia.  Medellin is quite safe now after they killed Pablo Escobar, the drugs lord, who ran the city with his ruthless gang for almost 2 decades until the early 1990s.  His Medellin cartel controlled 80% of the global cocaine market and Forbes magazine estimated in 1989 that Escobar's personal wealth was US$25 billion.  After Escobar's death and the fragmentation of the Medellin Cartel, the cocaine market soon became dominated by the rival Cali Cartel, until the mid-1990s when its leaders, too, were either killed or captured by the Colombian government.

Medellin has a European feel to it, with a large university, and a great night life, full of chic bars and clubs.  Medellin is situated in a valley and there are cable cars taking people to the top of the mountains to get a nice view of the city.  There is a beautiful nature reserve on top of the mountain range overlooking Medellin, called Arvi.  It is full of lush green fauna and forms an important biological nature reserve for plants and animals native to the area.

Although Couchsurfing has mostly good people, as with any institution, there can be a few nutters as well.  I stayed with this one guy the first night (43 years), who was originally from India, but had lived in the US most of his life.  He was into meditation.  Anyway, when I arrived at his small flat, he showed me the couch and said that his energy level was low so he was going to go into his room for a couple of hours and then we could go out as it was Saturday night.  He also said that he was in a bit of a depressed phase currently and that when he heard the news about the world, it made him feel even more depressed. 

Later, we went out and sat down outside a local fast food place where he ordered some chicken with a sauce that he removed with a napkin, but then ordered the same dish again.  He basically just stared ahead into space without saying much, but uttering a few words here and there.  He had a couple of beers and said he felt much better. He then said he wanted to go salsa dancing so we hopped into a taxi and went somewhere, and then he suddenly opened the door and got out without saying a word.  I didn´t know whether he had had enough of the taxi or if he wanted to pee or if we had arrived.  I just paid the taxi driver and then followed this guy to the salsa club.  He drank a few more bottles of beer and started to shake his bushy hair wildly on the dance floor.  After that, he tried to touch his toes with his fingers and was in that position for several minutes, just swinging his arms as he bent forwards while everyone else was dancing salsa with a partner.  After midnight, he suddently said let´s go and we went back to his flat.  I couldn´t wait for the morning to arrive to get out of there, especially as it was going to be my birthday.  At 10 a.m. he was still asleep so I wrote him a goodbye note and left his flat only to be met with a locked gate that the security wouldn´t open until they got the guy´s authorisation to do so.  Therefore, they woke him up and he said they could let me out.  I got a taxi to a big hostel and I stayed there in the heart of the city in my own room because I couldn´t stomach staying in a dorm with 10 to 14 people.  The kitchen had pots and pans without any handles.  They had been broken off over time, being used by thousands of backpackers over the months.  I made friends with a Medellin guy who used another kitchen there to cook for guests so he let me use his nice kitchen with all the equipment.   I came down with the flu for a few days so ended up watching around 4 movies a day in the huge tv lounge area that had massive couches and bean bags. 

When I got better, I met some locals who took me Salsa dancing.  I felt like a fish out of water, trying to find the rhythm and dancing in step with my various dance partners, but managed to pick it up in the end and was complimented by my dance partners, one of whom was from Cali, which is supposed to be a major Salsa centre in the world.

My Date With Johanna : 127 Hours

I went on a date with a 34 year old Medellin girl called Johanna.  She showed up, which was a miracle, because it is quite common for girls in Colombia not to show up for dates, and if they do show up, it is usually an hour late.  Johanna ended up bringing her older sister and was surprised that I didn´t bring anyone.  I told her that I didn´t realise that I should have.  Her sister got bored so went home.  Me and Johanna ended up going to a restaurant that she had chosen.  There was no one else there but the food was good and it had couches.  Anyway, over ribs and side dishes, she insisted on telling me about her previous boyfriends, one of whom had been an American whom she had met via a dating website, the same one that 2 of her sisters had met their American husbands.  Her ex had been visiting her every month for 2 years (he must have notched up some major air miles).  Suddenly, Johanna started crying uncontrollably and I was busy trying to wipe my own hands of the ribs sauce and also to wipe the tears from her face and to comfort her with a hug.  Quite a juggling act !   I had been carrying a dvd with me called 127 Hours which is about a guy who gets his hand stuck while hiking in Utah and subsequently cuts his arm off (true story!).  I had bought this dvd when a street seller had approached my taxi on the way to meet Johanna.  Anyway, Johanna said she wanted to see this movie and that we could go to her apartment which she shared with her mother, father, and younger sister.  

Unfortunately, the dvd player at her home was not connected properly to the tv so Johanna asked me to help her to move the large wooden cabinet forward a little so that she could see the wires at the back.  This cabinet had vases and statues on various shelves.  As I was trying to shift this thing, I banged my head and a couple of the statues fell down and smashed.  The mother was mortified and the sister was in shock as she had bought these for the mum.  I was just staring at the broken pieces on the floor and shaking my head at the way this evening was going.  I offered to pay but Johanna said not to worry and that they weren´t that expensive. Then the sister started crying and going berserk on the phone to the brother because he was firing her from his restaurant as the manager and replacing her with his wife.  So, the mum was trying to calm the sister down.  Finally, Johanna and I started watching the dvd but when it came to the guy cutting his arm off, she was feeling ill so I couldn´t wait for the film to end so I could get out of there.

El Penol

Around 90 minutes drive from Medellin is a very unusual place called El Penol.  There is a massive black rock jutting out of the ground, a bit like the ones you see in Arizona.  You can climb up this rock using the steps that they have provided.  The view is amazing.  There is a lake all around with many small islands in it.  The landscape is all green and lush, and makes for a lovely day trip.  I randomly bumped into a couple of American guys when I was at the Medellin bus terminal.  They were coming to El Penol as well, so we shared a cab there and back.  It didn't cost much money.  I think it was around US$15 per person there and back.  Of course, we didn't pay the taxi driver until he returned us to Medellin so that he wouldn't take off without us.  The 2 guys I met were real characters.  They were around 30 years old and self-confessed Pick Up Artists, trying their luck in Medellin, where they were currently living.  The Medellin women are absolutely gorgeous and love foreign men, so these guys were in their element.

Bogota, Colombia

Colombia

Colombia is has changed a lot in the past decade, thanks to the last 2 presidents, who fought a long hard battle with the FARC guerrillas and drug cartels.  The FARC are now only found in remote parts of the jungle on the borders with Panama, Venezuela, and Ecuador.  The drug cartels have been smashed as well and some have gone up north, to places like Mexico, which is why Mexico is having major problems right now.

Bogota

As soon as I landed in this massive city, with an altitude of 2600 meters, I managed to get some cash from an ATM in the airport and headed in a taxi towards my hosts' home.  It was night-time and the airport police advised me to book a taxi at the taxi office just outside the terminal instead of getting into any taxi that pulled up.  When I asked why, they said that kidnapping of foreigners for money does take place and some happen at the hands of rogue taxi drivers.  

I was being hosted by a couple (both 25) who lived in north Bogota, the nice part of town.  They are Couchsurfers and open up their apartment to other Couchsurfers who request a couch.  Jose is a doctor and Maria is a speech therapist (their names have been changed to protect their privacy).  I was sleeping on their couch in the living room of their 1 bedroom apartment.  I ended up staying with them for 2 weeks and became part of their family.  We always went out together, they introduced me to family and friends, and we also went to a town 4 hours away for a weekend, which I have mentioned below. 

The first few days in Bogota gave me altitude sickness and I found it hard to breathe easily but I slowly got used to it.  Bogota is an attractive city, with a high mountain range to the east of it.  It has a European feel to it in the northern, middle class part of the city, and nice architecture.  The nightlife is also good with plenty of restaurants and bars.

The mother of Jose, my host, had a chronic problem with her left hip.  She had it operated on and it would not lock in place.  One time she was in the intensive care unit of the top hospital there so I went to her ward and prayed for her.  She said she felt peace after my prayer.  

Some squatters had occupied a 2nd family home of Jose´s so I was asked by Jose to attend a meeting at that property with some local council officials and the squatters, as an international witness.  Foreigners are held in such esteem in Colombia that the sight of an English speaking foreigner is supposed to mean something.  The VIP status of foreigners is due to the fact that for 3 decades Colombia was such a dangerous place for foreigners to visit that there wasn't any tourism.  Only in recent times has Colombia been safe enough for overseas people to visit.  So, they are seen as a novelty.  Also, Colombian people tend not to readily trust each other because of their difficult recent history, but they very easily trust foreigners and have greater respect for them than a fellow Colombian.  One of Jose's friends, who lives in the US and works for Harvard, told me that Colombians respect foreigners first, then their president, and then celebrities. 

So, I went with Jose´s cousin and stood around for a while and spoke some English, pretending to be a peace-keeper from the United Nations or a representative of the IMF or Interpol.  My cover was blown when the mother of Jose told everyone that I was a relative.  Anyway, Jose's cousin suggested we visit a local Persian restaurant, where Jose joined us from work.

Worst Persian Restaurant In The World

This restaurant did not even serve Persian food.  It was just a steak joint offering really bad steak.  The owner showed up towards the end of the meal and was taken aback when he found out that I was Iranian.  He said that there are only 35 Persians in Bogota and 150 in Colombia.  He asked me why I hadn´t finished my food and I told him because his food was not Persian and that I was disappointed.  He agreed, with embarrassment, and said that the Colombians do not like authentic Persian cuisine because their tastebuds are not used to the food so he had to modify it.  He offered me complimentary Ghormeh Sabzi (a stew) which was ok but still not the real thing.  All in all, I was apologizing to my guests for the awful food and told them that the real Persian food was much better. 

Zipaquira

One day I was visiting a salt cathedral down a salt mine about an hour away from Bogota on the outskirts of a town called Zipaquira, which is one of the oldest cities of Colombia, with very friendly people and a slow pace of life compared to the hustle and bustle of Bogota.   When I was down the salt mine, I bumped into an Iranian lady (as you do). We ended up having a chat and a coffee.  Her husband was a big shot in Kodak and they were stationed in Mexico City but were relocating to either Dubai or Moscow.  She wasn´t sure which place they should go to so I was helping her decide.  I told her whichever place she went to, she would find Russians.

Villa de Leyva

 

My weekend away with my hosts and a cousin included riding horses, hiking around waterfalls, and a river and eating out at lovely restaurants.  We also went horseback riding and I was lucky not to break my neck as my horse was quite temperamental or just mental.
Considered one of the finest colonial villages of Colombia, Villa de Leyva, was founded on June 12, 1572, and has a population of around 9,600 people.   There are several festivals held throughout the year that attract international and national tourists alike.  It is 4 hours drive from Bogota and many Bogota residents go there for a weekend retreat.

Trinidad & Tobago: From Caracas To Maracas

From Caracas to Maracas

There is a wonderful beach around 20 miles away from Port of Spain called Maracas.  It is probably the most famous beach in Trinidad with fine white sand and very tall palm trees.  During the weekends, it is THE place to go to, and thousands of people descend on it for a day out, to swim and to eat the famous Bake and Shark, which is a delicious sandwich made of shark meat and salad.

One Sunday I couldn´t find a ride to Maracas beach and taxis wanted to charge an arm and a leg just to take me one way so I decided to make a sign and to hold it up on the main road in Port of Spain heading out to Maracas.  I wasn´t expecting the reaction that I got from passing motorists.  People were stopping their cars on the side of the road and taking pictures of me, or taking pictures from their cellphones as they passed.  Cars were honking their horns and people were yelling words like ´nice one´ or ´I like it´.  One driver stopped his car and offered me rum if I let him take my picture. 

Eventually a car with 3 young ladies stopped and after taking my picture, they said I could join them for the ride to Maracas.  The ride was nice and we had a good laugh.  Apparently, they had passed me and then done two u-turns to pick me up.  They told me that no one ever hitches a ride in Trinidad or makes a sign because it is not part of the culture and is a dangerous thing to do.  Crime is rising in Trinidad & Tobago and there are areas in Port of Spain which are not safe to go to, especially at night.  Foreigners have also been targetted.  But if a tourist is street-wise and generally aware of their surroundings, they should be fine. 

At the beach, I joined my new friends in having a big feast with homemade food and hanging out with their families.  Everyone around me was celebrating something or other and there was plenty of home made food in every social circle.  At sunset, there was an exodus from Maracas beach and the girls were kind enough to give me a lift back to my accommodation in Port of Spain. 

Hitting Skype before hitting the sky

When I was leaving Trinidad, at the airport I realised that I had not informed my bank or credit card company that I was flying to Colombia, and I needed to Skype them.  The airport did not have any internet facilities but had wifi so people were using their laptops all over the airport.  I managed to find a guy to let me use his mini laptop to Skype my bank and credit card company, while seated in a fast food restaurant.

The flight to Bogota from Port of Spain was via Panama City, which is a major route for most airlines.  That airport is massive and has about a million gates.  The currency is the Balboa but you have more of a chance of finding Rocky Balboa than a Panamanian Balboa, because it doesn´t exist.  Their notes are all US Dollars but they call them Balboas for some bizarre reason.