Good, Clean, Family Fun

The trip is not over, this much is for sure--in fact things are as good as ever.

Cartagena has been great, enough so that it has inspired me to offer up a few anecdotes before they slip away.

Finally cutting through the haze, Kash, Thompson (Aussies) and I got up early enough so that we could do something with our day. So we were off to the mud volcano. A taxi got us to a decked out school bus convert that transferred us each onto our own motorcycle taxi which delivered us to the base of the volcano. It wasn´t as seamless, however, as it may (or may not) sound. The bus which you can only understand if you´ve been to South America I think, was painted six colors, complete with shag and tapestries on the inside, and dotted with stickers which simultaneously sent two very different messages: proclaiming that God Is Love and that the proliferation of naked women stickers is and should be a top priority. This bus, with a max speed of 30mph looked like it was never going to get us there. Then we got a flat tire. But, we did arrive and all the better for the round about way we got there.

The volcano rises in typical conical fashion about 25m out of the ground and falls another 2500m beneath the earth (we couldn´t figure out how that was measured?). After climbing the rickety stairs you get the giggly surprise of putting yourself in for the first time. The mud is the perfect consistency and thickness so that it leaves you buoyant enough to float in the position of your choice completely comfortable in a fashion that lazy boy could not begin to compete with. Buoyant enough that you can´t actually dunk yourself without someone else´s help and conveniently thick enough to enjoy a game of tic-tac-toe on the surface, the mud pool was for sure a unique experience. Filled with all sorts of mud people, the most populous of which were the mud munchkins that decided that that would administer involuntary massages to one and all. Then were the mud mammoths that, as was keenly observed, changed the mud levels with their departure from the mud jacuzzi.

By the end of it we had become brave enough to search for the bottom, and everyone else in the pool enjoyed as two of us pushed the other down about 10ft, then let go and a second or two later the formerly lost popped through the surface like a torpedo. It was good fun, even though we were mud monsters in a silent world of darkness until the mud was dug out of our ears and eyes.

Thanks to the flat tire delay, that is where we met Kira from Brazil who would accompany me after the guys left (to their chagrin) to another great day of adventure.

Motorcycles to buses to cabs got us back to Cartagena, and it was on the way that I noticed a small town called Clemecia that was having a 3 day festival complete with bull fights. I had yet to partake in this tradition and decided that the next day, the last of the festival, I would head back.

A party bus escorted the drunkards through the night, and even though I couldn´t get Kira´s mom to dance with me we still had a great time.

The next day we turned up to Clemencia on a scorching afternoon and found a ghost town. However, we saw a few people drinking beer (including a midget, strangely...at the time) and they directed us to the closest beach, telling us to come back at 3 o´clock when the festivities would begin. They also mentioned something about the midget show as I translated it, but Kira got the idea that the midgets would be fighting the bulls. No way! We both couldn´t believe that scenario and awaited what would at least be a good surprise. Midgets and bulls???

A quick stop at the local shop and we found ourselves sporting our new swimming attire, hers a "guerilla" camo number while I chose the bright blue and orange waterproof kids suit. Back on the mototaxis and off we went to Punta Canoa. A basically deserted beach where amazingly you can still get a cold beer (from Luis Miguel) and some freshly cooked fish. We spent the afternoon basking in the knee-high Carribean bath water and anticipating what was to come.

Motomen got us back to where we needed to be in time to catch the last half of the action. After a quick stop for the first meal of the day we were hustled into the "stadium." A proper bull fighting stadium it was, although definitely the most ready to fall structure in which I have ever set foot. To our delight the midgets were doing some sort of tumbling tricks while waiting for the next bull to be brought out. But then, oh no!, the midgets shuffled off for their bull fighting equipment and the gates were opened as a charging bull ran through with anger in his eyes, a taste for blood, and midgets in his sights. Yes, it`s true--the midgets were the bull fighters! I have never been so worried for such small people. The bull charged and the midget ironically dressed as Superman just didn´t have the arm length to pull off the proper matador maneuvers and BOOM down he went with a swift head to head attack by the bull. Finally, as he was malled for the next 15 seconds, another midget came over to distract the bull and receive his similar fate. This wasn´t a bullfight, it was Revenge of the Bulls, or a Midget Massacre...what was this surreal world that we had just stepped into? But then, almost (not quite) as quickly as he had gone down Superman popped back up triumphantly, hands over his head, as if he´d just won the World Heavy Weight Championship and scurried off just barely before he was gored again.

And so it continued, full-on midget carnage which went from sad to extremely entertaining. And once the bull got sick of crushing midgets they put it back through the tunnel and out came a fresh spanking angry new one! No bulls were killed, so although it may have not been an extremely authentic bullfight....it was way better!

Seeing as we were the only two foreigners and Kira looks just as Colombian as the next...I stuck out. And thanks to this we were approached by two guys that told me it was time for the gringo bullfight! They offered me $5000 pesos (a little over $2 US) as their final offer although for a time I thought they might just throw me over the side. The crazy thing is that I actually considered it, I mean why not? I´m at least much more nimble than a midget. But then again, also a bigger target...finally I was dissuaded both by Kira and the gnarly scar on one of my petitioners arms that he proudly admitted was from this very activity. Then, just minutes later this same slightly cross-eyed, definitely crazy scarred man was down in the ring, running toward a charging bull that he then did a front flip over. The bull was looking forward to his advantage in this game of chicken, but then was left completely bewildered as the Colombian soared overhead. Midgets don´t do that move.

He was the first, but soon the floodgates were open. Every Colombian worth his weight in pesos was down in the ring being the biggest man he could be. Soon the scrap metal was ripped off of the walls of the already crumbling wooden stadium as to allow easier entry (and exit) from the ring. At this point Kira and I were both silently planning our escape routes from the soon to collapse rickety beams and thought that the show may be over except for the band that kept on playing and the bulls that kept coming out to meet their hoards of amateur bull fighters. It went on like this until the Sahara-like sunset put an end to a great day of events and found us napping to the rumba tunes on a bus headed for Cartagena.

Space Cowboy

Hace un rato.

But things are good. In the few weeks since writing I have inevitably forgotten some things worth mentioning...but, that`s how it goes.

From the coffee district I caught the vomit bus to Bogotá, the capital of our fair Colombia. Checked out two noteworthy museums, one being the Botero Collection which was probably the best I`ve been to in, well, a while. Botero is Colombia`s most famous artist and is easy to appreciate for both his skill and sense of humor. All of his characters are disproportionally fat or at least disproportional. Including his bronze statues of birds, horses, etc...they all have a funny, beady eyed look to them and are at least telling you that he doesn`t take himself too seriously.



Mona Lisa



Next it was to the Gold Museum, which they say holds the most important collection of gold artifacts in the world. In fact, everything is gold--a characteristic of pre-Colombian (and pre-Spanish) societies that made them great and consequently led to their demise.

Bogotá was nice, and I was lucky enough to meet up with a friend of a friend who is great and we had a nice time hanging out while not actually doing any sightseeing. I wasn`t planning to stick around for too long, but when I heard Jamiroquai was coming to town and had a group to go with it was a done deal.

So to kill time before the show I headed up to the north-east of the city towards Tunja, Villa de Leyva, Raquira, and San Gil. Very cool little towns. Raquira was really nice, a colorful town sitting on mounds of workable clay-- the one street in the town is used mainly to sell the crafts and with a short walk up the hill you can see the artisans at work. From there I walked over to the next valley to see a cathedral/monestary combo called La Candelaría. A small group of us was given a tour of the grounds by a young monk and the whole thing was just a bit strange. This place is completely isolated, has been around since the 1600s, is really nicely furnished and modern with conference rooms and wireless internet while surrounded by poor little farms, still has monks who whip themselves with the little barbed belts in order to pay for their sins...really interesting. The last thing on the tour was a cave that he explained was where a monk used to live, staying down there all the time only to come out of Sundays to get food for the next week.

San Gil was good too, beautifully set in the mountains it was a perfect place to go for a good bike ride (until my legs almost fell off). Then, the next day I rappelled down an 80m waterfall, which although wasn`t actually that exciting...was still a good time.

Back to Bogotá and my first blockbuster South American concert. Everything I expected and more. We were frisked and herded in like nervous cattle, waited a few hours, then comes the main show. Jami was great, fully pimped out with sequined Indian headdress and Bolivian style poncho. Quite the sight and a great performance.

Next night was taking off for Medellín, where I had planned to stay two night max. Ten nights later and I was still fighting to get out of there. Laid back place, great hostel and company...not much to do in the city but when you find good distractions it`s hard to leave them. Did head out to a great place...a big hunk of granite that shoots up 200m out of the ground. The stairs that they built up this thing are classic...it`s surrounded on all four sides by shear, overhanging cliffs but there is one seam and in this seam they jammed in a concrete spiral stairway. I was expecting it to collapse under its own weight with every step. Great spot though, and the few from the top of the finger lakes that surround it was stunning. One of these little outlet channels of this lake would be an ideal spot for a house.



check out those stairs



climbing...



Two nights ago then I broke free and now find myself in Cartagena on the Caribbean Coast. I`ve met up with 3 Aussies and a Brit whom I`ve becoming friends with and between our main activities of drinking and playing cards we`ve found some time to explore the historical district of Cartagena. Beautiful city complete with fort and an inner wall that was used to ward off the British and pirates. Some of the streets have been very well preseved which makes it a nice place to go for a stroll. Cartagena is a circular peninsula which means that your walk will most likely be along the water for a ways...so very pretty. From here the boys are chartering a sail boat to Panama and I`ll keep on towards Venezuela to more pristine beaches. Rough!







While here we plan to go to a mud volcano that you can take a bath in and to head out to an island for a night or two. Things are good and the trip, she winds down with every day. But not ready to say goodbyes yet and onward I go, still living the good life.