The End of the Line

The unexpected, final stop on our South American odyssey was the city of Buenos Aires. On a trip that I would say has had its fair share of adventures, I'm (mostly) happy that the Argentinian capital proved to be a microcosm of the same. Interaction with locals? Yes. Culture? Absolutely. Personal safety concerns? You'd better believe it. All in all, Buenos Aires turned out to be one of the best cities I've ever visited. That said, it definitely had some big city issues.... but I'm getting ahead of myself. In the words of Coldplay: Oh, let's go back to the start.

It was tough to know what to expect leading up to our arrival - about half of the people we met on our travels who had been to BsAs totally raved about it and the other half had absolutely nothing good to say about it (culminating in a Londoner telling us right before we arrived that it was, quite plainly, "a dump"). Appearance-wise, the streets looked decidedly European. Hobbles (the nickname I've given to my gimpy wife) was reminded of Paris and I was taken back down Memory Lane to Vienna. Our neighbourhood was filled with dozens of parks and the jacaranda trees lining the wide avenues and narrow streets alike were all in bloom, meaning that the city was teeming with purple flowers that filled with air with a pleasant, sweet fragrance. I guess if you had Hay Fever you would be less impressed, but I think the "dump" theory can pretty much be discarded.

For us, travelling is walking, and watching Hobbles limp to the grocery store on a daily basis (so as not to be left out of the evening's wine selection process) was truly an inspirational sight. Of course, as I would hope has become obvious by now, I kid. To be truthful, I arrived in BsAs upset that Kristin's injury probably meant that we wouldn't have an opportunity to properly experience the surroundings, but Kristin has willed herself to see about as much of the city as could have been expected from someone with a broken bone in their foot and probably more than 90% of able-bodied people could have managed. She has never ceased to amaze me on this trip.

While simply wandering the city, sampling the amazing cuisine and doing our first shopping of the trip have been memorable, we uncharacteristically planned some extras in BsAs that we were particularly excited about. In no particular order, I would say that the anticipated highlights of our stay in BsAs were: (1) the apartment we rented; (2) taking in a tango show; and (3) attending a soccer match.

1. Our apartment was a shade over 300 square feet, but, after more than four months on the move, you could have easily convinced me that it was five times as large. It's incredible what can excite you on the road. Kristin was ecstatic that there was a table to eat at and I was just tickled pink that our space was big enough to house a box of cereal and a carton of milk. It's also great that an apartment of this size takes only about 30 seconds to tidy up (or so Kristin tells me....).

2. The idea of attending a tango show probably was more appealing to Kristin prior to booking, but the production she picked out was unbelievably professional and sexy. That's right, parents - I'm saying the word "sexy" in a public forum. Basically, it was dancing, singing, acting and orchestra all rolled into one, and the best dancing I've ever seen to boot. It also didn't hurt that we ran into a live, public ballet production with about 20,000 spectators immediately outside the theatre and in front of one of the city's main landmarks (check out the obelisk in our pics) on the way to the show. These things just don't happen back home.

3. Of all the things we had planned, I was most jacked about the prospect of attending a soccer match featuring the La Boca Juinors (Maradonna's old team), especially after the big stadium I wanted to visit in Rio de Janeiro turned out to be closed in preparation for the 2014 World Cup. The La Boca neighbourhood and the soccer matches there are notoriously sketchy, so we went the safe route by paying a little more to go with a tour operator. After being briefed on the dangers of the neighbourhood, we were given a final set of instructions which included, "do not for any reason show your tickets to anybody, even if they claim to be police officers, as this is incredibly dangerous." So, you can imagine how thrilled we were when, five seconds after exiting our van, we were met by some very, very large men claiming to be police officers and demanding to see our tickets. This is where the expertise of our guide was to factor in, but I have never seen someone more petrified in my life. The twenty or so minutes that followed were infinitely more terrifying than when we were actually robbed in Colombia. After all of us had been stripped of our tickets (we were told that they were the type of tickets that should not have been sold to us in the first place .... or some BS like that), we were told to get back into the van along with the "police officers" and some other tourists they had rounded up, the former of which would make sure that we got seats inside the stadium. When we informed our guide that we had no intention of getting back into the van with these men, he told us that the one man had a gun and he would have to ask whether we would be allowed to leave. Ultimately, six of the 12 of us refused to get in the van and, after being followed down the street by some pretty creepy people, got into taxis and left the area. I had to settle for watching part of the soccer match on TV, but it was good to emerge from the crooked cop/thug shakedown relatively unscathed.

The soccer incident wasn't enough to taint what I felt was an utterly amazing city, but after a thwarted pickpocketing attempt on the subway a couple of days later, I think I'm finally looking forward to going home to Calgary for the first time (where most of the creeps spend the winter in Vancouver).

Our pictures from Buenos Aires are here. My final blog post is in the pipe. I'll post it sometime after I get home. Catch you on the flip side...

Colombian Coast - The Clint Eastwood Breakdown

The Good

We just returned from Tayrona National Park, which offered the type of unspoiled and seemingly endless coastline that I have only previously seen pictures of or read about in my lifetime. The lightly-coloured sand, crystal Caribbean waters and surrounding vegetation would easily rank as the nicest beach setting I have ever visited (though Kristin would still give the edge to some of her Australian beaches) and for those that were willing to walk for a little ways or start a bit earlier, there were literally hundred of metres of beach that could be had all to one's self. Getting there and away required slogging through mud and staying there meant more hammocks and nasty tents, both of which were probably a little too soon for us after our Lost City trek, but I would like to think those sacrifices were totally worth it and that we would definitely have done it again. Probably.

The Bad

In Taganga, a small, sleepy, hippyish beach town where we chose to unwind after The Lost City, Kristin was stung by a small jellyfish about 45 seconds into our first dip in the Caribbean Sea. Seeing her in that kind of discomfort was a totally helpless feeling, and my first instinct was to pee all over her in the hopes that it might take away some of the pain. Luckily for her, I didn't, and eventually the pain subsided in a more naturual and less intrusive manner.

The Ugly*

About an hour and half after the jellyfish sting, as we returned from the beach to the main part of Taganga, we were mugged by two men, one carrying a gun and one carrying a knife. I again felt totally helpless, but my initial instinct in this instance was to pee all over myself. No, that's not true, as for me the experience proved to be more shocking and surreal than terrifying, but we remain somewhat unsettled and it certainly has taken some of the wind out of our sails. In the end, they took our camera, my inexpensive travel watch and the money we had on our persons (which was about $20 more than we would normally take to the beach since we were on our way to buy Kristin some new flip-flops). Luckily, if you can call it that, they missed my Ipod and didn't take our sunglasses. Also reassuring is the fact that the Colombian police are on the case and are searching for the culprits..... even though they had no real interest in obtaining a physical description of the two men from us .... so we should be getting our camera back any moment now.

As for impact on the blog, I remain determined to convey the beauty of this coast to our many loyal readers, but we are currently without a camera to assist in doing so (editor's note: I think you really would have loved a picture of the Unicorn I was riding along the beach at sunset, but you'll just have to take my word for it...). Since I know that a picture is worth a thousand words, and since I typically like to post 25-30 pictures of each place/region we visit, simple deduction and multiplication tells me that this post is going to have to be around 30,000 words to accomplish my goal, so perhaps you should clear a couple of hours from your calendars and get settled in. Nah, I'm just kidding, I'll keep this post short and sour. Thankfully, we are heading to Cartagena in the next day or two. I'm sure that one of the most touristy cities we'll visit on our trip and a city which forms part of the Carribean cruise circuit will have very reasonable prices for cameras...

Our pictures from the Caribbean coast are .... somewhere. If you know where that somewhere is, you are aiding and abetting in armed robbery and that is a crime. Shame on you.

*Honourable mention for "Ugly" goes to the parade of fully-naked men that slowly began invading our once nearly-private strip of beach in Tayrona and turned it into a walking, running, swimming and, yes, even jumping wang-fest. This horrific display was not offset by an equal number of walking, running, swimming or jumping naked women. Even if it had been, it still wouldn't have been okay.

Safe and Sound

"Warning. Pickpockets and thieves are notorious in Bogota. Watch your money and valuables closely; don't wear personal jewelry, take your glasses off if you can see without them, and never walk into a crowd." [emphasis added]

Before leaving for the trip, we came across the above quote in the travel guide that Kristin's parents took to South America when they were about our age. I'm not sure whether I was more shocked by the quote itself or by the fact that Kristin's parents still chose to visit Bogota at the time after reading it. Judging by the fact that nobody has relieved of us of our designer prescription sunglasses and seeing as that we interact with crowds daily, it's probably safe to say the situation has improved over the years.

That said, it's still difficult to know how safe Bogota really is. For all that you hear about the city and Colombia in general, I am happy to say that I have not been concerned for our personal safety since we arrived, and it's probably not because the Sidney Crosby playoff beard I've been growing cloaks me with an aura of invincibility. To date, the only violence we've witnessed is the daily beatdowns our egos are taking in Spanish class. I note, however, that we are staying near a wealthy area of Bogota, we avoid certain areas of the city (as one likely should do in any large city) and we try to limit how much we walk around at night.

Despite our positive experience (and I'm eager not to jinx that), there are certainly signs that security remains a major concern for everyday bogotanos. First off, the police and military are seemingly everywhere and can often be found packing serious heat. Obviously there's a reason for their presence and perhaps it should be more alarming, but seeing them actually makes me feel more safe in the city (plus, as these pictures show, it's fun to play with their weapons).



Secondly, for many homes and businesses, it seems like there is a strong desire to double up on security features. High walls are topped with razor wire, barbed-wire fences give way to heavily-barred windows and locked gates are backed by private security guards. It's sort of like guard dogs with bees in their mouth and when they bark they shoot bees at you (... anybody?). Speaking of dogs, there are plenty of the drug and/or bomb sniffing variety around offices and government buildings and many more throughout the city that would appear to specialize in maiming and/or killing.



The most difficult elements to reconcile are between what we often see and do and what we are advised to do when speaking with bogotanos themselves. A couple of "for instances":

1. Every day we take a public bus to and from Spanish lessons. On the days where we can fit into the bus (and there have been days when we cannot stand upright), it is an enjoyable and very interesting way to live like the locals. Another student in our class is from Boston and is spending the summer with her extended family here in Bogota. Her family is not comfortable letting her ride the same bus route that we do and insists that she take a taxi in each direction.
2. We like walking around the neighbourhood where our Spanish lessons are held, but our school has a gate around the building that is locked at all times. When we arrive, we ring the buzzer and somebody comes and opens the gate for us and locks it behind us. When we want to leave, we have to ask somebody to let us out. The lady running school said she would not walk in that area at night even though it is known to have a large student population, which I typically equate with a higher level of safety.
3. Although I would estimate there are about a trillion taxis in Bogota and we see locals flagging them down frequently, most of the locals we speak with advise us never to get into a cab from the street. Instead, the recommended practice is to call the cab companies directly so they can give you the number of the cab (written on the side of the vehicle) that will pick you up, thus ensuring you actually head home and not to an ATM to make a withdrawal for the "cab" driver.

Obviously, these are some very cursory observations in respect of a very complex topic, but they constitute my two cents after almost three weeks here. Contrary to any concerns I might have had, I have found the people to be welcoming and inquisitive. To anybody who visited Bogota in the 1970s and did so without their glasses, you should come back and check it out with your unhindered vision. It really is quite beautiful here and the crowds are often the best part.