Took the airport shuttle back to Miami International with the plan to drop the bags and take another bus to a shopping mall nearby. However, after dropping the bags it transpired that the bus’s return journey wouldn’t get us back to the airport in time for the flight. So it was a nice relaxing lunch of salty cholesterol on a plate and V got to walk around looking at the shops wasting the last of their dollars on stuff.

More beers through at the departure gate set the mood for the flight. V was given the mission of spending the remaining dollars and actually failed. She felt like she had let herself down but resided to the fact that it has been a year and is just out of practise.

V&J were fashionably last on the flight and they literally shut the door behind them. We do want to come home-honest! We then disappointed a very sleepy passenger that probably thought he had the row to himself.

The Mac just informed J that it has not been backed up for 366 days (he did it the day before they left). This means we have been gone for exactly 365 days, 366 when we land. J’s a geek.

Not sure of what to make of our return to the UK. Excited, nervous, disappointed, anxious
J knows that V can’t sleep and has a stupid excited grin on her face, god only 4 more hours to go before he can hand her responsibility back to Baz.

Ingerrrland nah nah nah vindalooooooooo

First we needed to fly to Bogota, so took a taxi to the ‘bus station’ which turned out to be a load of buses in the middle of downtown. The bus to the airport took a good hour with a very kind driver who picked up school kids and dropped them at school for free on route. Everything ran smoothly with Avianca (unlike it did with their competitor Aries). There was just enough time to get lunch and buy two rubber random rubber ducks (we had leftover peso) at Bogota airport before taking the 3.5 hour flight to Miami.

The flight was painless. Watched two films, ‘Shrek Forever After’ and ‘Iron Man 2’ both pretty disappointing. There was then our cavity search at Miami Airport. Somehow V&J managed to pick all the wrong queues and were the last people to get out of the airport. V was asked by the security guy, ‘what took you so long’. V kept the ginger hulk at bay but really wanted to rip his head of spit down his neck and shout ‘YOU’ at his corpse. Instead it was a girlie giggle and a sensibly polite answer. Boy how she’s changed.

A free airport shuttle took us to our pre-booked hotel. It had received some poor reviews on tripadvisor but V&J easily rated it within their top three and took pictures of their GIANT bed, that could only be meant for obese Americans.

Back in Medellin we zoomed up to another Mirador to check out the city from a different perspective. At the top of the hill was a strange miniature village with old furniture still in the reconstructed rooms. Not entirely sure what that was all about but the view was nice from up there.

We drove back to Jose’s apartment (where he still lives with his brother and sister) and had a traditional Colombian soup before heading out to see the slums. We were forced to leave his car behind because in Medellin the law only allows certain number plates to be on the road at particular times of the day. This is true in many Colombian cities and is a relatively successful way of keeping the traffic constant.

The slums were interesting and having Jose explain everything made it even more fascinating. The ultimate juxtaposition of riding a pristine cable car over the jumbled, crowded assortment of slum shacks was crazy. The government had built the cable car to give people access to parts of the slums that were so dense cars can’t get in. The most amazing thing was that, after 15 years, the metro (of which the cable car is a part) is still in pristine condition, there is not a single spec of evidence that would suggest disrespect. Imagine what it would look like after a day if it was built for Slough.

On our return we stopped off at the Botanical gardens to see some orchids, for which Medellin is famous as well as a load of other species of plants and trees that J had no interest in. After this relaxing peaceful stroll it was back on the Metro to Downtown. This was definitely anything but peaceful and relaxing. The streets teemed with people and traffic could hardly move, crazy people preached for the end of the world and some people swang their hips in time to a busker playing his guitar. Following Jose through the chaos he pointed out all the land marks and some Botero statues and gave us more history.

Tired and hungry having seen everything in one day we returned to the hostel for a beer. Matthew and eventually Eduardo (a Brazilian we had met the day before) then joined the trio for dinner. Conversation turned to war in Iraq and Jose who had lived in UAE for several years offered some interesting views and insights. He blamed prior intervention from the western world post WWI and WWII for all of the areas problems. The theory was that there were no problems in the middle east prior to the wars. It was the dividing up of countries by the victors in the western world (in order to claim who’s is who’s) that initiated tension and unrest. This, combined with ‘Green Zone’, really left a bitter taste when thinking about America.

Before we knew it, 2 o’clock had come round and it was time to go to lunch with Jose. Right on time a Jose walked through the door. V&J didn’t know what to do, this was definitely not the 65year old Jose they were expecting. To be fair though his credentials were pretty similar. He was a Jose, he did windsurf, we did meet him in Lago Calima and he did live in Medellin. V&J were forced to stifle sniggers at the fact they had been emailing the wrong Jose for quite some time and left for their afternoon together.

He took us to a really nice place for lunch where they served traditional Colombian food. This was practically the same thing they had been eating day-in day-out just at a slightly higher quality. Rice, beans and meat. V&J struggled through, forcing bean soup in passed their hangovers. It was actually a really nice afternoon and was quite a shame we were so hungover.

After lunch Jose took us up to the Mirador (viewpoint) to look over the whole of southern Medellin. The best part was watching all the Colombians, big and small, trying to fly their kites in no wind.

The plan was to cook some dinner but it transpired that the supermarket was 30mins walk away, so a take away pizza had to suffice. Talking to Matt it turned out that he had been in contact with the correct Jose, at least until the 16th when he got the two email addresses confused and started bothering the other one (this guy must be really confused getting random emails from us and Matt that must have made no sense). Eventually we found the correct Jose’s details and J rang him to organise to meet up tomorrow. Following all this excitement was an early night with the film, ‘Green Zone’. Stupid in parts, but a good story that left you hating Americans so it was a hit with us.

We dragged our bags to the bus and waited for a non existent bus to take us to Salento. This never came so we were forced to go via a flower shop, then two more changes in another two towns. For the most part of the journey, however, we enjoyed the company of a really friendly Colombian couple with their 5 year old son, who was determined to make us teach him English the whole way. Well, until he started vomiting in a bag and then passed out on his dad’s lap.

In Medellin we arrived to find Joe (from Argentina and Peru), Matt (windsurfing), and word from Jose (the 64yr old windsurfer that we met in Lago Calima). We emailed Jose back to arrange lunch for tomorrow. Then we did what we do best, particularly now V was feeling almost 100%. We went for a nice romantic meal in Hooters, with a snotty waitress who could tell we weren’t going to be ‘big spenders’. Then we got drunk till 4am in the Zona Rosa area (which is very posh and expensive) then couldn’t find way home so we grabbed a well-required burger and stumbled about until we bumped into some friends who led us back. We piled into our dorm, waking everyone up in a useless attempt to find the bottle of water and then slept until midday.

Once at Cocora we turned down the idea of going on horse back in favour of walking the route instead. V was totally against moving but tried her hardest to make it as far as possible. It was only a 2 hour walk after all. Well it should have been but V&J were pretty sure they had gone the wrong way somewhere. So after an hour they turned around and plodded back again. The view was still very pretty with the giant wax palm trees, the tallest in the world and Colombia’s national symbol. However, V was only cheered up by ‘fluffy’ cows and calf’s. Yes V took a photo of the cows bum hole. The return jeep journey was not as crowded and only demanded J to stand on a step above the back towbar, whilst a Colombian baby grabbed onto V’s finger and clutched it tightly for the entire journey.

After lunch we were just in time to catch a tour of a coffee plantation in English. The tour was given by Tim or Don Eduardo as the locals liked to call him. He’s originally from England, grew up in Oz and now married with children in rural Colombia. He had acquired the 12 hecter coffee plantation almost 3 years ago for £25000. He explained all about the different types of coffee that is grown, the conditions they require to grow and how he turned the fruit into a coffee bean. It was really interesting and he explained everything really well with a ton of enthusiasm. In fact he was so enthusiastic it was hard to get away from him at the end. The whole plantation was situated on the side of a mountain looking down the valley, it was picture perfect and just what you would imagine rural Colombia to look like. Before we headed back up to our hostel for dinner we took a look at his small pineapple patch. V&J had never seen how a pineapple grew before, it is not how you would imagine it to be. Check out the photos.

We went to dinner with Freddy and Ed two guys from Newcastle University then said bye to them immediately afterwards as they boarded a bus to Bogota. That’s how good a company V&J make. Friendless V&J put themselves to bed with sun burnt necks. Stupid weather, we were meant to be in a cloud forest so didn’t bother with the sun cream, doh.

The bus was roasting and we had the only two seats without a window that opened. This became less of an issue as they climbed in altitude and the climate became cooler. Found our hostel that had a very well spoken floppy haired English guy ‘just chilling’ in a hammock. Talking to him revealed that his friend was ill with exactly the same symptoms that J complained of and V was still complaining about (but she doesn’t like to talk about it). That silenced the argument about Dengue Fever once and for all. He recommended a restaurant in the village and with that V&J set out to find this ‘amazing’ place. It was shut, so we ate a seriously ropey meal somewhere nearby, resulting in V rushing to the toilet and insistent that we leave immediately. Her empty stomach was not prepared for that delightful feast.

The weather was now drawing in and the small village was shrowded in mist and rain so V&J retreated back to their room, much to V’s delight who transformed herself back into, drum roll please, El Sleepo.

Made it to the ‘amazing’ restaurant for dinner. If by amazing they meant edible then yes it was amazing. V&J then slipped into a bar to play some cards amongst the crazy looking locals. J was furious when he lost to a super jammy V that he ran around pulling his hair out and then sulked. V who was feeling much better now laughed in his face to comfort him.

Tom had gratefully shown us a picture of an Aires plane (who we are flying with today) that had been struck by lightening upon landing in San Andres the other day. Nice. With this in mind V decided to quickly check her emails to ensure that the plane still exists. Luckily she did this because the flight had been moved forwards by 3 hours and was due to leave in 45 minutes. A big panicky rush followed by a short taxi ride and the worlds longest check-in queue resulted in the flight leaving at 5pm and V feeling like shit.

In Bogota we attempted to get our bags to get some more clothes (it’s no longer 4000% humidity) but with no luck. We won’t be seeing them again until Cali, if we’re lucky.

At our second check-in of the day, on a whim, V asked if there was an earlier flight we could get on as ours didn’t leave for 5 hours. Surprisingly the woman said yes and arranged for our bags to be transferred to this flight. Hmm….either our luck is changing or our bags are going to be lost in the ‘baggage reclaim abyss’.

After J made a joke about taking 4 hours to take off we took 4 hours to take off. Not quite, but it was a laughable amount of navigating around the runways.

And an hour later we were in Cali and relieved to see our bags. The shuttle bus was still running so we hopped on there and went to the bus terminal where we caught a taxi to our hostel, saving us $30US by not taking a taxi from the airport.

V, considerably suicidal by now, got to the hostel, grabbed an orange juice and passed out in bed. Luckily the room is nice and the sleeping is even nicer. J was just thankful that the complaining had stopped. No V you REALLY don’t have Dengue Fever.

On J’s return he found S looking up the symptoms of Dengue Fever….. think V&J both now know who is the most pathetic ill person in their relationship. But we also know who is a miserable bastard when ill. At least V could manage a smile. Dick.

El Sleepo didn’t then surface until dinner time when J kicked her out of bed and made her come and eat something. Two slices of pizza and V turned back into S and went horizontal again.

Thankfully Tom was still around so J went out for beers with him and some of his friends from home. It came up in discussion how gross Bolivian indigenous women are. Not sure we wrote about it at the time so here it is. The women shit and piss in the street and when they are done they use their bottom layer of their giant dress to wipe what ever needs seeing to! And when they have their period…… need we say anymore. That is why when you go to Bolivia and get close to an indigenous lady they will smell like a public toilet. This was probably more interesting and less disgusting when discussed over several beers. Thank you and good night.

Next dive was the drift dive V&J had already done this in the open water and it was amazing so J was really looking forward to it especially now that he had his new found buoyancy mind power control. However we got in the water and it turned out the current was taking us in the wrong direction. So we instead spent 20 minutes swimming against the mother. This was not J’s idea of fun. On the plus side the diversity of interesting wild life was at an all time high. Think we saw just about everything that we had seen before on this one dive.

Back on shore J started to run around like a mad man. V&J’s plan was to leave for Cartagena today but there was still a lot to be done. J, in the 4 bajilion degree heat, tried to arrange hostels, transport and dive licences. V then turned around and confessed that she couldn’t manage to move today. This would cut our time short in Cartagena but made it a damn sight easier. J put V back to bed, booked a bus for tomorrow and went and passed his Advanced Diver Course. After all these shenanigans J walked back into the hostel to find Tom, the guy he did all his Spanish lessons with in Buenos Aires. This meant J had someone else to talk to apart from El Sleepo.

V managed to surface for dinner and eat 4 mouthfuls of food. A hungry Tom was ecstatic about this and heroically stepped forward to polish of his second main course of the evening.