Quito to Bogota: Hell's Wrath

Not much to write home about on Quito. I guess I didn't give it a fair chance but weather wasn't that great when I was there, I felt kind of sick and the hostel we were in was pretty bad. There was alot of speculation on how I was going to get to Bogota to meet Fiona and Katherine by the 25th. There were not alot of options. A plane was $300 minimum and the bus ride was a minimum of 28 hours. If the bus option was going to be direct, that wouldn't be a big deal but it soon became obvious that there were no direct options to Bogota. I chose to go for it...I chose wrong. Everything started out fine. I got a bus to Tulcan which is the border city with Colombia. I fell asleep which was the first problem. After waking up an hour later I soon began to realize that things from my bag were missing...first the Kindle...and then the external hard drive....and then my dad's leatherman. All nicked. I've never been properly robbed here so I guess it was my travel karma taking its fee. I think I'm giving up on owning a kindle here. It's just too much of a damned liability...and I don't really need anymore things calling attention to me. My hair does the trick just fine.

Anyway, after getting a cab to the border station from Tulcan I instantly had a Colombian latch onto me asking if I needed a ride across the border to the bus station. Maybe it was the fact that I was tired, maybe it was because I was grieving over the loss of my electronics or maybe it was because he was wearing a Yankees hat but I took him up on his offer and then was taken for a ride, literally and figuratively. I was instantly shuffled into a cab with another dude driving and Edgar (Yankees Cap) talking a little over 200 words per second in spanish at me. I asked how much it cost for the 5 minute ride and I couldn't really understand what he said. I ended up paying 40,000 pesos for the cab fare and Edgar's "tip." Which is around $22 I found out. I mean, I wasn't going to argue and risk being stabbed and getting blood on my remaining important possessions so it was kind of unavoidable. Ironically, Edgar was the one that told me that Colombia was a changed place and that gringos don't get ripped off anymore. Bastard. I curse his family.

Luckily from Ipiales (the border town in Colombia) there were direct buses to Bogota which I was told was a 22 hour bus ride. That didn't happen. First of all, we were stopped at 4 in the morning by a police checkpoint. Usually, they do a cursory glance at the people and maybe check a few bags but Colombians are thorough. Maybe it's because of them trying to rid themselves of the cocaine trafficking reputation but they searched every bag in the bus which took around an hour. Then, in some small town we were stopped by a blockade of people protesting about something in the street which added another hour onto the trip. When I finally got to the hostel in Bogota I think the total trip time clocked in at about 30 hours. Luckily Fiona and Katherine were there to give me a warm welcome. We went to a club with some others form the hostel even though I felt like I was floating. Rum helped to sort that out though.

Bogota is...ok. We've been hearing alot of stories of muggings which has kind of put us off of going out at night. I mean it can't be worse than Lima but I think everybody is spooked. I walked around today with some people and there are some parts of Bogota which are quite nice but it's cold here. I'm having flashbacks of Chile and then I remembered its winter in about a month in S.A. We're leaving tomorrow for more northern parts of Colombia.