Colombia

I spent September and October travelling around Colombia. I nearly didn't go there, because I'd read an independent travellers website before I left which pretty much said that every country in the world is safe to visit, except Colombia. However, I got a very different story from anyone I met on my journey who had already been to Colombia. They all said it was safe, and worth the effort. They weren't wrong.

I had planned to dose on my bus ride in to the country, but the road from the Ecuador border, winding it's way through wide lush green valleys, with the evening sun adding some magic to the colours, was absolutely outstanding. Had I known of its beauty I would have planned to spend more time there. I had other plans - I headed to Cali, the salsa capital of the world. Almost. It was pretty lively from Thurs to Saturday, but fairly tame the rest of the time. So I danced some salsa. It was a mixed bag. I had a dance with this attractive chick who was a good dancer - but she never looked at me or smiled throughout the entire track. Thus it was one of my least favourite dances. And I had plenty of dances which I really enjoyed with a lot of other different people, who did smile. A smile is so important and so simple - why look so miserable?

Travelling is all about doing the unexpected. So I learned to paraglide. It was a two week course, set up in the mountains of Santander, towards the border with Venezuela. The first three days I spent on the ground, learning, playing with the wing, watching training videos, watching the others fly, getting the take off skills up to scratch without taking off, learning the theory of landing. Day 4 I had to run off a cliff. So run off it I did. In front of the take off site, the ground drops away sharply - there are some bushes, small trees, rocks, and beneath that a concrete road. For the first few seconds of taking off, you feel like you are sinking rapidly towards all of this, and then the glide takes you - you stop losing height and you surge forward. You pull yourself in to your harness, look towards the landing zone, knowing it'll take you about 4 minutes to get there, and you try to relax. Your heart is beating like crazy, your hands - holding the controls - are shaking; you're trying to fly straight, but the odd bit of turbulence pulls you up down left and right. You feel insecure in your seat. And then you're in front of the landing zone. You have to lose a little more height, but the tall trees on either side of the field are frighteningly close. As are the cows in the field - can't they move to the edge out of the way? I near the trees on the left and pull hard right, I near the trees on the right and pull hard left, I reach the middle of the field, pull gently right, straighten myself, and put my feet down ready for landing. Flare. Touch down. I'm alive!

As the two weeks rolled by, my number of flights and time in the air grew rapidly, and I became comfortable with these sensations. I learned to feel comfortable near the trees, I learned to judge my height and speed, look at the wind socks, enjoy the views and flying amongst the birds, soar in thermals, soar along the ridges, land more gently and more controlled, spin 360s. I learned a lot.

It wasn't all plane sailing: on my second flight I struggled to get out of my seat for landing, only managing on my 3rd attempt when I was only 3 feet above the ground; on my penultimate flight my confidence got the better of me when I tried to ridge soar with no wind - I had to do an emergency landing in a gap in the trees in the fading light on the side of the mountain; on one takeoff my wing didn't inflate fully so I lost height rapidly and dragged myself through the bushes before the glider righted itself. Heart fluttering moments, but moments that I cherish.

I enjoyed a lot more of Colombia - the picturesque villages of Villa de Leyva and Barichara, exploring the coffee region around Salento, the white sands of the Caribbean coasts, the blue crabs, bbq pizza and a jam session at a hostel in Taganga, the walled city of Cartagena, the salsa night and the Botero museum in Medellin. My very favourite place though, in the whole of Colombia, in the whole of South America, was Lake Guatapé. The hostel was right on the side of the lake - every morning I would go out for a swim then come back for breakfast. I would spend a few hours doing some research on the web, then I would go for an afternoon walk through the pleasant countryside. I would do some more research in the afternoon and socialise a bit in the evenings. The hostel was an eco hostel - recycling, using local resources, fairly efficient. The place was like paradise. It's almost how I fantasize my life to be. The only thing I would add is the ability to dance blues all night long. That would make it perfect.

Love theme Blues

I was eating a lasagna alone at a café Tuesday night when the love theme to Top Gun came on. It gave me the blues. A woman to hold, to talk about our days,  to snuggle on the sofa, to sense each other's moods, to just know so much about each other. And to share - a glass of wine, this travel experience, our dreams and fantasies, life. To share life.

I went to the climbing gym Wednesday, and they had some dance music on - western dance music, not salsa. It fills you with energy - makes you want to climb really hard.

And I went to watch Chicago el Musical on Thursday night. It was all in Spanish so I could only understand  parts of it, but it was really entertaining. Anyway, the music - particularly "All that Jazz" - brought back so many good memories for me of nights dancing away to jazz and swing.

I love the power of music to bring out these emotions.

"To invent you need a good imagination and a pile of junk" Thomas Edison

Today we visited Café la Huila, the coffee shop of a friend. She set it up with a few friends with a budget of close to zero. The food was really good, but it was the decor that I loved. The bar consisted of three metal barrels with a glass top. The tables were made out of rolled up magazines; chandeliers made from plastic bottles stuffed with sweet wrappers; chairs made from egg cartons. As I'm writing this it sounds like junk - but it wasn't - it looked really good. I think about the hundreds of thousands of pounds spent on decorating classy cafes, and I compare it to this cozy joint - made from waste and ingenuity.

Seed and Poetry Festival

A part of our course was to do with seeds - these are vitally important for organic agriculture. Well, we were told about this "Seed festival" which was in a convenient location on the way back to Quito, so I went there with two friends. It's in a community house called  "Casa de las Abuelas" (The house of the grandmas), on the banks of Rio Caña. A stunning location - lush green vegetation, fast flowing river, far from the nearest city. It started for us in the mid afternoon with a play which included music and dancing - including grabbing people from the crowd. 

Then we had a sing-along - a beautiful melody "El río va fluyendo, hacia el mar" (the river is flowing, into the sea). Then there was a break in the entertainment, so we went for a swim in the river. A man on a horse decided to join us. Later in the evening, we saw some traditional dances performed by kids, then a brilliant contemporary dance performance by three teenage lads involving fire and juggling. There were some short videos on the importance of water and the problems of water in the world. Watch "Abuela Grillo" (grandmother cricket) it's a great animation - no Spanish required - it's loosely based on the privatisation of water in Bolivia and the subsequent riots when too many people didn't have a reliable supply of water. Perhaps the best bit of the evening was the poetry conversation - where a man and woman speak to each other in verse - all completely improvised. I couldn't follow much of the Spanish, but the rhymes were good and there were squeals of laughter and appreciation from the audience. The salsa dancing went on until late and was followed by a bonfire by the river which lasted until dawn.

The end of the course - passion for change

We've come to the end of the course - it has absolutely flown by. Living here on the farm as part of the community has been really good - helping out with the chores, working , learning, sharing social time. It's similar to the HotRock experience where we took it  in turn to cook, and otherwise helped out with any chores that needed doing. Here at the farm it has been easier to find quiet time, comfort, privacy - that was harder whilst camping with the HotRock truck. I think back to my living as a single man in a one man flat in a city. I loved the flat, the location, the control and the personal space. What I didn't love as much was always doing the same chores, always cooking for just one person - I particularly disliked the washing up. I had friend's nearby, I had the dance community and the Couchsurfing community - but I didn't have a neighbourhood community. I think that's important - someone to share meals with, someone to just drop in on when you need company. We had that as kids, growing up in the country where neighbours all know each other. But not in the city. I want to live in a city, and I want to be a part of a neighbourhood community.

I've learned so much at Rio Muchacho and really enjoyed it. The people here are brilliant - the people who own the place, the local workers, the volunteers and others on the course. It's a fun loving crowd with a good respect for nature. The teachers here have talked of many subjects  - but they are all related - they're all connected to a simplicity of life, a focus on happiness. And the people here are happy. They aren't wealthy, but they are healthy and they enjoy life. They talk of change and a better world. It's great to hear the passion with which they talk. I've always joked about not wanting to be labelled as an "accountant", that I want to be a "future business leader" that I want to rule the world or change the world. These jokes have a lot of truth in them - I've just never quite found my niche to bring these thoughts to fruition. But I am getting there now. I'm getting together the knowledge, the passion, and the direction that I need to help change the world for the better.  Vamos - Let's go.

They call it puppy love

There are four female dogs at this farm. As it happens, three of them are on heat. And that means that we have the male dogs from the entire neighbourhood constantly hanging around the farm. The fighting is horrendous. They are always kicking off on each other - the girls included. Throughout the night, we are kept awake by the sound of foreplay and fighting. In the mornings we can see new wounds on the ears and faces of the dogs. It's pretty grim. There are amusing moments as well - like when two of them got stuck together, or when the tiny male tries getting it on with girl who's twice his height - he is stood on tiptoe and jumping up like a pogo stick.