After having such a great time on the north coast of Colombia, we somewhat reluctantly began the long journey south to Peru. Our first stop on the way was Colombia’s capital Bogota; a 21 hour bus trip away. The journey itself wasn’t too bad, but we were both relieved to get off and stretch our legs. Everyone had warned us that Bogota is cold but it was actually quite warm when we arrived, and we looked fairly overdressed in our alpaca jumpers. However that night we were so pleased to have our llama clad clothing, as the temperature plummeted and it was absolutely freezing.
We weren’t in Bogota long, but we had been told by several people that we should visit the gold museum. It wasn’t far from our hostel and was fairly cheap to get in, so we went to take a look. At this point in our trip it takes a lot to get us excited, and sadly this was not one of those times. It did have a huge collection of gold dating back thousands of years, but we’re obviously very hard to please. We also visited an art museum with various modern pieces including dozens from the famous Colombian artist, Fernando Botero.
Our next stop was San Agustin, and this couldn’t have been more different to Bogota. It is a tranquil country town with stunning views of valleys, waterfalls and undulating hills. But the main attraction, and the reason that most people visit the area, is because San Agustin is a world heritage site. Dotted around the countryside are hundreds of statues which date back thousands of years. Never one to encourage walking, Katy decided that we should take in the sights via horseback. We had managed to barter a good deal by joining two other English people we had met at our hostel, Sophie and James.
I was a bit apprehensive as I had never ridden before, and my brief lesson (in Spanish) didn’t do much to reassure me. All I was told was to pull on the reigns to stop, and at that point he slapped the horses arse and I was on my way. Thankfully he was quite a well-behaved horse, and I was doing fairly well to hold on. It didn’t take me long to work out that it was much more comfortable when the horse was actually running a bit (cantering for those in the know). Not that I really had much choice in the matter. Katy made the mistake of telling the guy she had some experience so was given a very excitable horse, and every time he started to speed up, all four of the horses joined in.
It was a great way to do it, but after four hours in the saddle I was so relieved to get off the horse. It is not natural for a man to ride a horse, cowboys or no cowboys. We retreated back to the gorgeous setting of our hostel (cushion in hand) for a few cold beers in the afternoon sun. The same day was Colombian Independence Day, and we had heard rumours of big parties and live music in the small town. We were disappointed though as there was absolutely nothing going on. Instead we headed back to the hostel and the four of us drank the French owned hostel out of red wine. Katy did point out that no French bar / restaurant should ever run out of wine, but by that point I think the owner was relieved that we were going to bed.
The following morning we were on the move again and heading back towards Ecuador. We had to have another night in Popayan to break up the journey, and were up again before sunrise to begin our worst day travelling so far. First we had an eight-hour journey to the border, followed by a four-hour wait in the small border town called Tulcan. Then we had a 14 hour overnight bus to Guayaquil in the south of Ecuador. Our bad streak with cameras continued as our camera was stolen from our bag before we arrived in Guayaquil. I even think I know who took it on the bus, but when we told the driver and a police officer at the bus station they just waved us away. Not really a nice way to wake up after an entire day travelling, and we still had to wait another three hours before getting yet another bus to Montañita on the Pacific coast.
It took me a few days to calm down after having the camera stolen, but Montañita was quite a good place to do so. It’s a small town with a fairly nice beach, and has hundreds of hostels, bars and restaurants busy with both locals and foreigners. On the weekend it fills up even more with locals visiting from nearby towns and cities, and can get quite rowdy. We just enjoyed some sun and did very little for the first few days.
While we were there we did get to enjoy the opening ceremony of the Olympics with an English couple we met, Chris and Morven. I thought some bits of the ceremony were really good, and some others were quite bizarre. Overall though I think it was a success and it definitely gave us an afternoon of entertainment. A lot of people have asked us if we were glad to be away for the Olympics, and I think in some ways we are. The thought of getting home on the Central Line during the games is not a nice one. But it is a shame we are not there to watch it and just to be in London during the games. I imagine there is quite a buzz to the city right now.
Before we left Montañita, we went whale watching an hour up the coast in a town called Puerto Lopez. It is mating season for humpback whales, so we were pretty much guaranteed to see them. This was one of those occasions that we could have really done with our decent and recently stolen camera, but instead we had to take our rubbish backup camera. The trip itself was amazing, and I was surprised how close we got to the whales. We spent a few hours in one area watching them before we left to go and do some snorkelling. On the way, a huge whale (about 15-20 meters) jumped out of the water if front of us.
It was a truly spectacular sight, and it actually continued to breach the water right next to us. Everyone on the boat decided that they would rather watch the whale than to go snorkelling, so we stayed there until the whale decided to dive and was nowhere to be seen. On the way back to shore everyone on the boat got absolutely soaked as the captain just decided to go full throttle regardless of the big waves. It wasn’t the best end to our trip, but overall it was a great day out.
Peru was next on the agenda, and after yet another night bus we arrived at the coastal town of Máncora. We had been recommended a hostel that was just outside of town, so when we arrived at 4:00am we got a taxi straight there. We hadn’t expected to get there until about 7:00am, so we were hoping that the hostel might have a spare room so we could get some sleep. However we had arrived on Peru’s national day, so every room was booked out and the party was still going. We were told that we could use the hammocks around the pool until a room was available at lunchtime.
Once we eventually got settled in, we got to enjoy the sun and a nice pool. With the help of one of the hostel staff and a tour operator in Cusco, we also managed to book our Machu Picchu trip. All we had to do was visit the local bank the next day and pay for it. We went into town that evening for dinner in one of the many beach-side restaurants, and enjoyed a few beers to welcome us into another country.
The next day we had the worst experience of our trip so far, and one that I hope we never have to go through again. We went into town and paid for the Machu Picchu trip, and while we were there decided to check out the bus times so we could plan our next trip. We wanted to walk back along the beach, so we cut down a road towards the shore. After walking a couple of hundred metres, we said to each other that it felt like a dodgy neighbourhood, and seconds after that it began. About five locals ran out of a house towards us, two of them brandishing knives. One of them waved me away with his knife while he grabbed the bag from Katy. In the bag were our passports, credit card, debit card, iPhone, camera, Machu Picchu ticket…everything. I chased them through another house they had run into, but they had already gone out of the back door and into a tuk-tuk.
Two of them had stayed behind and were actually talking to Katy, asking what was in the bag. After a few minutes of shouting at them that saying that we just wanted our passports back, we decided to walk back to the main road and get out of there. Before we got back to the road though, the two men we had been shouting at actually brought our bag back. The camera, money and iPhone had been taken, but everything else was in there. It was quite bizarre. It was quite traumatic, especially as it happened in broad daylight in front of people, but it could have been a hell of a lot worse. Obviously the main thing is that we weren’t hurt, but it took us a while to calm down.
That night I went to the police station to report it, and thankfully was joined by an Argentinian guy called Juan who translated for me. Nobody at the police station spoke English, so there is no way I could have done it without him.
It’s been a strange couple of weeks, and a time that we definitely want to put behind us. I’m sure it will make us a bit more wary from now on, but hopefully it won’t stop us enjoying the rest of our trip. We’re in our final day in Máncora now before heading south to Lima. Let’s hope that our next overnight bus journey goes slightly better than the last.
Until the next time…