 Arriving in Bogota, I hadn´t quite expected my taxi driver to be part of a drug cartel. Suddenly a gun was thrust into my hand as he hurriedly explained the two cars shooting at us were a rival and very dangerous gang. I had no choice but to shoot back in fear of my own life. Having stopped one vehicle and it´s occupants, the other fled as the military joined in and shot at us. The game was up.
Well the old town of Bogota provides a very pleasant afternoon of strolling around...
Colombia has the WRONG image.
Welcome to a country of wonderful green lush hills that has without doubt the nicest people in South America. Yes, it has it´s past and yes it still has problems. But as you hear constantly Colombia is getting better and safer by the day. For me the two memorable things were the people and just watching how a country has transformed itself over the last ten years (and it still transforming).
The government deployed military onto the roads and asked people not to fear travelling - and they responded in droves. The cities are being torn up and changed with modern metros, parks, libraries etc. etc. Medellin had an area of trendy outdoor restaurants that I would kill for in London!
Getting to the end of my RTW trip I opted to bravely tackle the backpacker circuit! Numeorus reasons - firstly costs (aka the financial crisis), secondly Colombia is devoid of decent information (the Lonely Planet was 5 years old), and thirdly it provides an easy way to meet people. So Colombia has a tightly knit network of so called hostals. These are essentially houses that have been converted into guesthouses and provide private rooms and dormitories (4 beds). I´m way beyond dorms so it was private rooms all the way. So yes, I met people, yes I got lots of good information and yes, they were damn noisy at times!
And I also decided to take buses around the coutry - save money, see the country. Now put me in an airport anywhere in the world and I´m at home! Bus stations with connections, foreign languages... test that comfort zone! But it´s amazing how with a few words and most surprisingly with body language you work it all out and in time I quickly adapted to it. As for this whole ¨We travel overland by bus to see the country" philosophy... poppycock! Long drives, squashed up, non-stop showing of loud violent movies, continual random stops in one-horse towns, seats that recline back onto your lap, arriving tired...
And my espanol slowly improved but was still woefully lacking. In a restaurant called Crepes and Waffles, I wanted a crepe that wasn´t on the menu - banannas, honey, ice cream and cream. So tackling the manageress I requested 'banannas, miel, helado vanilla and crema'. I got just what I ordered - just I had assumed it would come with a crepe - nope!
So for the record I did a circuit covering Bogota, Salento, Medellin, Manizales, Cartegena, Taganga, Tayrona, San Gil and Villa de Leyva. All good and covering everything from cities to mountains to coast. Highlights were the old towns and of course the odd coffee planatation visit. I enjoyed some great hiking, beat my body up on rapids and got eaten by mosquitoes. Best of all for me personally was the old town of Villa de Leyva resting in a beautiful valley. A place where I got hooked on horse riding.
Thanks to the likes of Tania, Logan, Risham, Vinny and Nadia for the great company, good fun and help with translation.
As the Colombia website states - "Colombia, the only risk is wanting to stay". Well, it's one up on the old logo of "Colombia, the only danger is not wanting to leave"
In Memory
After having written the article above, I learnt of the sad news that Risham was tragically killed while cycling in Cusco, Peru. Risham had just turned 21 and was one of the people I had enjoyed travelling with. She was a girl with a postive happy get up and at them attitude.
RIP Risham.
The Iguazu waterfalls are rightly claimed by many as the worlds best waterfalls. A four flight from the Amazon at 11.35pm followed by an hour and a half connection flight found me somewhat blerry-eyed in a guesthouse at the edge of town, surrounded by empty green fields, a pool and hanging hammocks.
My typical arrival involves dumping my bags and then immediately bombarding the owner/reception with questions about maps, things to see, goodies to eat etc. etc. Anwar, the owner and gracious host, looked at me and suggested coffee using a term frequently repeated "Hey Tom man...relax..."
Bordering Brazil and Argentina the falls can be seen from both sides and people have different views on which side they prefer. Personally Brazil gets my vote. Argentina has more of the falls and more to do with longer walks, boat rides etc. Brazil has one long walk which slowly reveals the falls in all their majesty. It culminates in a long platform close to the so-called Devils Tongue and just protudes out over the middle layer fall testing my vertigo, and leaving me wondering how/who had actually built it. Stunning.
Back to Sao Paulo and my all too short sojurn in Brazil was over.
Sao Paulo, the Amazonas and Iguazu Falls. I had a great time.
Five days and four nights staying on a floating lodge in the jungle - bliss!
It seems odd flying into Manuas, a city of 2 million ( a third of the size of London) in the middle of the Amazon. But you´re whisked away and two bus rides and two boat trips later you´re surrounded by nothing more than the sounds of the jungle. And a bell that summmons you for breakfast/lunch/dinner.
7am breakfast, 8am expedition, 12pm lunch, siesta, 3.30pm expedition, 7pm dinner, 8pm expedition followed by the finest caipirinhas I´ve ever tasted. We did expertly guided walks in the jungle, spotted pink and grey dolphins, pottered around the mighty Amazonas, caught a baby caiman, and fought biting piranha (experts at ripping meat off a hook)
Amazon thunderstorms meant playing Brazilian dominoes (highly additictive) with Sam and Nadia, two students on holiday with their parents. It was just heavenly relaxation.
Nothing beats waking up to the sounds of the jungle with assorted birds, parrots, howling monkeys - and alarm clocks dilligently set by the Swedes.
Sao Paulo has a population of 20 million people making it nearly three times the size of London. Reading the guidebook warnings about the crime rate as I flew in I was starting to question my sanity!
Perhaps the situation was best summed up by the number of used guidebooks left behind in the guesthouse with the pages of Sao Paulo ripped out. You went out without a daypack, no watch, money hidden, and torn out pages of Sao Paulo from your guidebook stuffed in your pocket.
I stood out like a sore thumb with rapidly blonding hair in a sea of darker latin looks. Eyes followed me. Every fifth person seemed to be down-and-out, and drunk out of their minds on sugar cane rum (it was the Christmas period!)
Getting lost meant darting into shops to look at your map and trying to get back on track as fast as possible. Intimidating is perhaps the best word to describe it. It was a bit of a relief to get out of the town centre but I actually really enjoyed it - certainly a life experience.
On the flip side I was staying in an area called Jardins where the elite of Sao Paulo live in luxurious sky scraper apartments (tv cameras and security standard). This was the Chelsea and Knightsbridge of Sao Paulo - luxury stores and smart coffee shops. Ladieswalked their immaculately groomed dogs.
It´s a very, very mad world...
There´s nothing to beat writing travel diaries in an airport at 4.30am.
Christmas in Buenos Aires was a little bit of a strange affair.
I returned to BA determined to hit it with a vengence given many praise it so highly. I walked the streets flat. Seeking something unique pre-Christmas the shopping resembled Oxford Street...
So I surrendered on BA and caught a bus for a day at an Estancia (ranch). Even that turned out to be as authentic as a rubber duck posing as a swan in Hyde Park. But I met up with some very pleasant American chaps, Matthew (living locally) and Paul (visiting Matthew!) So off we went. Well my horse had soon worked out my limited riding experience and simply did as it pleased.
Lunch time reel out the barbeque with the highlight/lowlight of the day being a pony whose sole purpose in life seemed to be to bring meat on a cart from the barbeque to the table. Much bashing of head on table. The gaucho demonstration wasn´t bad with a handstand on a horse being something I hadn´t personally seen before. First I´ll learn to ride and then try a handstand and maybe one day combine the two.
So on Christmas Eve I battled to find a taxi in a deserted BA and had an all in touch pricey Italian meal with Matthew and Paul. To end the day I had a taxi war with an over-priced taxi whereby the driver waved a brick at me. Happy Christmas! And then I discovered what I thought was a private party was actually the Guesthouse Christmas party and I had missed it. Perhaps BA and I were never meant to be!
So Christmas day I did an extensive bus tour of BA (it is a nice city!) and ended up with owner of the guesthouse, Linas, a famed tango host, eating and talking the night away. It made my day.
Argentina certainly had it´s highlights, it´s well travelled, and super-easy to do everything. But I could have done it all in half the time, and maybe I just lust for something more adventurous.
The Argentians are indeed social, flambouyant and gregarious (I do like that word!). A smile, a kiss on the right cheek, and off they go yabbering away. I´m now in Mendoza and attended a free classical concert held in the central park. Nessun dorma - that good, Pavarotti could have been there himself. Big stage, big band, big lights and culiminating in fireworks that left the locals standing applauding, and shouting Bravo...Bravo... I´m not normally bothered by solo travelling but by gum, this is a place for couples or groups of friends. Although the men kiss each other on the cheek too - fortunately not experienced that one yet.
So Mendoza is famous for its wineries and in particular Malbec. The good old wine diploma had to be dug out and resulted in some very nice tastings. And an acknowledgement of thanks to Susie for writing the requests to visit in Spanish - well beyond my capabilites.
And the wines were good. I flip between sheer embarassment and perverse pleasure sitting in a cellar surrounded by 20 odd bottles. People walk past and I can see they are thinking 'who the heck is he?' Tom Partridge - take delight in good wine - here's my cork screw, let's get cracking...
And the Spanish is coming along slowly as is the continual trying to order the right thing. Doble cafe par favor. Doble?! In Londres we'd call that four shots of espresso. Leaves you smiling for hours.
In Buenos Aires for Christmas - and hoping the Guest House Im staying in have a plan of attack. Feliz Navida - have a Wonderful Christmas!
I am slowly but surely adapting to travelling in Argentina - in fact I may even be enjoying it now. Yes - it is a well travelled destination and it's very popular with the British. But to be fair, it makes a great holiday destination. Of all the South American destinations I've been to it's certainly the most advanced. There are many great attractions and the Argentines have done a great job of looking after them.
Take the famed Perito Moreno Glacier. Those who haven't hired a super-expensive rental car arrive on a tour. There are eco-friendly raised metal pathways that take you to various viewing points. And at the end of it you take a boat ride to see it up close. And it is spectacular. You wait with your camera poised for a block of ice to come thundering down off the sheer blue wall of ice in front of you.
Having had a year off I've been somewhat short of exercise, spending more hours flying than running. So I signed up for a 'Super Trek'! Buy that and a Moreno Glacier Tour and you get a free dinner. Bonus!! See - well developed tourism.
So head off to El Chalten. Arrive and get given a map and a lunch pack (the obligatory sandwich, chocolate and an orange). Am told to walk to the end of the road, enter the park, follow the paths and assorted signs, and after 5-7 hours I should arrive at camp. Right-oh! Off I bomb questioning my sanity on how I got suckered into paying money for a map and a sandwich...
Fortunately the paths are well defined and my first view of the magnificient Fitzroy knocks me back a few steps. Every few years somebody climbs it's sheer vertical walls - not me thank you, got to ensure I get to camp. And a fine four and half hours of walking it was - wild winds, wild scenery.
The next day was a chance to play on ice with some crampons. Now I´ve done a few of these little trips in the likes of New Zealand and Iceland. You drive to the glacier, don some crampons, walk over some ice and hold an ice axe for a picture or two. Job done, no harm to ice or body. But this was much better. A good 2 hour walk to the glacier followed by instruction on how to walk up ice, walk down ice and walk on ridges. Surely we´re not really going to do it. Yes we did! I´m not going to deny the cracks and sink holes had me slightly nervous. Stomp hard and stay on secure ice. Even better - we actually used the ice axe and did some wall climbing. I might get some more practise before I sign up for the 7 day ice field trek.
I had been bemoaning the fact I had yet to find all this famed Argentian meat. And then I discovered Patagonian lamb. Please add it to my final meal on this planet we occupy. Forget Welsh, English or New Zealand lamb. Cooked slowly whole on an open flame, it´s the real thing. Meat cooked like this is called Parilla. Served on a small grill with coals to keep it warm, it goes well with a glass or two of local Cabernet. Terrible thing is I´m now hooked. Argentina is expensive so you´re meant to do a few dinners of pizza or visit the supermarket.
Supermarket or Parilla? Parilla, parilla, parilla...
I´ve been told I should do more diary entries (just can´t get used to the term blog). With internet access easier and faster in Argentina I´ll try.
To be honest I have yet to ´click´ with Argentina. Having visited South America before, I was really looking forward to it.
Buenos Aires always seems to get rave reviews but in my one day there, I was a little under-whelmed. You must visit Recoleta cemetery the guidebook screamed. Yes - it was ostentatious but Père Lachaise
in Paris is much more compelling. But I´ll be back in Buenos Aires for Christmas and am determined to do it more justice.
Next I headed down to the Peninsula Valdes which is famous for whales, elephant seals, sea lions etc. And it wasn´t that bad but it´s a well-beaten track. You do a day trip in an air-conditioned van and admire wildlife at a distance from behind ropes on well defined paths.
Maybe I´m just an ungrateful bas-tar-dos? Perhaps I lay the blame at the doors of my previous destinations. Bhutan and Burma were undoubtedly incredible experiences. It was like you can been transcended into the middle of one of those great BBC documentaries. Here it feels like you´re on a tour to watch the BBC doing the close-up filming, from a distance behind fenced off ropes. But that´s my own fault - travel to popular destinations and you need to do more research to get away from it all.
I haven´t even had a decent steak yet, damn it!
But it´s had it´s funnier moments. Some people will know I like a good coffee (it´s rumoured that after leaving work, one person commented he was grateful I had gone as the coffee orders would be less complicated). So being in South America I was keen for a good macchiato and to try the famed sweet mini-croissants.
The menu offered up a special of ´cafe con leche and tres medialunas´ for 15 pesos (3 gbp). I´ve now learnt that it is really what we´d call a cappucino with 3 mini croissants (choose jam or plain). But literally translated cafe con leche is just a plain coffee with milk. So I proceeded to try and get it swapped for a macchiato and I wanted jam croissants. I got a long black filter coffee with a dollop of foam and three cheese and ham croissants for 30 pesos (6 gbp)!!! Jam - Jamon! Scrap the helicopter flying lessons - time to take up a language course!
Next off to the deep south - Fitzroy, Glaciers and hopefully a good steak.
Due to the impact of the Bangkok Airport strike, my stay in Melbourne had been cut short. The plan was to relax, rejuvenate and do some planning for my up-and-coming S.America leg. But it ended up being more of a social visit and late nights with friends who call the wonderful city of Melbourne home.
If I ever do end up moving to Australia, Melbourne is by far my favoured destination. Probably the most English of Australian cities, its often voted the worlds best city to live in. For a tourist it holds little interest but for life-style its superb. Melbourne combines a big cafe and restaurant culture with a focus on the outdoors too.
I was staying with good friend and generous host Bernie McGrath and his lovely wife Nicole. They now have a wonderful little daughter called Grace who was just a bundle of fun. She amused me non-stop and learning to talk has her own little language. "Queaze" means "Please". And if she liked something it was "Mor, mor,mor...". And endearingly she would go round calling my name "Tom-Tom-Tom"
So it was good to see everybody even if I never got to bed before 2am. Kathryn Beattie, true to form, still knows how to find gem of restaurants. And it was nice to meet her fiancee Stuart who was a top notch chap and somebody able to deal with my little handful of a friend! Similarly I met up with Cameron Fletcher and his fiancee Hailey. Camerons got himself a fabulous little place (sponsored from his days contracting at Credit Suisse) and even managed to cook a pretty good porterhouse steak.
It was all too soon over and after a final 2am session enjoying an old muscat and cigar with Bernie in the garden, it was time to get on yet another plane.
If there is one thing I noticed, its how happy and relaxed everybody seemed enjoying living in Melbourne. Fully understandable.
Thank you all for your kind hospitality.
 Myanmar has been a land full of surprises. This is a country that receives only 1.4% of the number of tourists that Thailand does. But it is so much more rewarding. Severe international sanctions remain in place after the military refused to hand over power to the democratic NLP who won the last elections outright. Aung San Suu Kyi remains under house arrest. Yet strangely we saw little of the military.
But the sanctions have taken their toll. The country is poor - in fact it seems frozen in time. Were it not for the fertile soils, it would be a real disaster. Roads are bad, power cuts occur daily - it's all a little shambolic.
I had planned to fly around the highlights but a travel agent convinced me to hire a van with guide and driver. Teaming up with Joanne and Douglas and Ellis/Cho-Cho (guide/driver), I spent 13 fun-filled days travelling around Myanmar. Jo and Doug are doing a remarkable two year RTW journey and were simply top-notch travel partners. Everday was as Doug put it "Another Good Day!"
Those days were filled with getting up early and packing in as much as we could. We alternated driving days with stopovers. This felt like real adventure. We did boat trips, walks, visited monasteries, and cycled around the numerous temples of Bagan. Even the souvenaire sellers were good fun. They'd chase you from temple to temple "I know you handsome. Buy something for your mother/sister" (Funny how fathers never get a mention).
One little pretty girl chased me around non-stop using all her charm. First she praised me, then she pouted and went for sympathy. I wasn't buying and wished her well. In true female style she stormed off "No see you later!" - and then burst into tears. It was the first time a souvenaire hunter had tugged at my heart strings, and I felt rotten all day.
And this is what makes Myanmar so very special - it's people. Smile at a Burmese person and they will return your smile ten-fold. They have the broadest and warmest of smiles. Shouts of Minglaba or Hello or Tata (Goodbye) greet you regularly. Kids especially have a charm.
And if there's one thing they really love it's a picture. Hang around long enough taking pictures of people and the kids will come. Showing them the resultant pictures results in squeals of delight. Even the adults like to pose proudly. But more often than not some kid will leap into the photograph!
Ellis and Cho-Cho were amusing. On one trip a government convoy passed us and Cho-Cho decided to latch on to the back of it, putting his foot flat. The roads (pot-holed) are littered with toll gates (all dubious) and government vehicles drive through free. At a major toll gate Cho-Cho decided to pretend to be part of the convoy and steamed through (barriers are held open). Comically Ellis and Cho-Cho looked at each other, looked forward, looked at each other again, and then burst out laughing. One against the government!
And if photographing monks is your thing, Myanmar abounds in them. In the morning they walk around, often in lines, seeking alms. Come noon, the olders ones raise umbrellas to shelter them from the sun while the young ones scramble around.
In an agriculture village we visited a monastery of young boys for whom this would be there only 3 years of education. But they belted out their prayers for our attention before tucking into their meal - clipping each other and chucking the odd bit of food. We even visited a monastery where the monks have taught cats to jump through hoops.
As for the Road to Mandalay? Well Robbie - I must tell you it's a bumpy one. And you must negotiate heavily laden trucks, pick-ups piled high with passengers and their personal goods, motorbikes, bicycles, the odd snake, horse driven carriages, tractors, ox and cart, and sleeping dogs.
The bare footed monk offers out his bowl for alms, the pink-robed nun watches carefully over her protege. The visitor must take his passport and leave behind this gorgeous land. 'Larey, Larey' - 'Beautiful, Beautiful'.
Oh - and Douglas - asking Monks to step into the sun for a photograph is just not responsible tourism...
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