We decided to change our flights out of Costa Rica due to time and expense, and so as we made our way across the border into Colombia, we knew this would be the last country of our trip. But first, we had a two day trip across the border to contend with.
Border crossings have offered lots of imaginative twists to our South American travels: multiple protests, road blockades, disdain from Argentinian officials and even a (albeit minor) bus crash.
So naturally, crossing through what is fondly known as “bandit territory” had us interested and slightly nervous as to what would happen on our final crossing. We’d heard whisperings and tales of hijackings and robberies (even by the Colombian police!).
Thankfully, the only twist to this two-day journey was the insane amount of armed police and military that we saw on our way, armed with huge weapons.
Even in the most seemingly remote places, there would be a few fully decked out soldiers on the side of the road, complete with large automatic weapons slung over their shoulders, or sometimes by their sides, with their fingers actually resting on the trigger. We made sure to give them our best “gringo” (foreigner) smile and be polite!
We’d seen this all over South America, but this was the first we’d been frisked by one. Onto the bus came a soldier carrying a shotgun while he took ours and all the locals’ identification. Perfectly normal.
Then we all got asked to get off the bus, separate into men and women and I watched as Med got a full frisking and bag search by a man with a gun. Thankfully, I just had a bag search and few questions about our journey.
We made it, without being hijacked, robbed or arrested – high five for us!
We arrived into the pretty colonial town of Popayán, known as the “white city”, since all the buildings are painted alike. Popayán is surrounded by some really beautiful countryside; many a mountain, volcano and national park, but the town is quiet and we just relaxed after a two day journey.
We did manage to sample some of the local nightlife though, in the form of a dark, maroon bar serving up cheap drinks, music from collectible, Colombian LPs and heaps of entertainment from the sozzled, rosy-cheeked locals who perched on wobbly stools and musty chairs.
I loved it. This was the Colombia I had imagined: infectious Latino music, wafts of meat cooking on the street outside and tables oozing with empty beers and spirits.
There was only one thing missing: sizzling Salsa!
Cali is known as the salsa capital of the country, if not the world. (Salsa the dance form, not the dip!)
Cali is serenely surrounded by miles of sugar cane plantations, and sweeping landscapes, but its heart and soul is in complete contrast. It pulsates a unique and sassy energy, the energy of fiesta and homegrown Salsa.
Cali is also known for “medical tourism”, i.e., a lot of people come here to get plastic surgery. Certainly a lot of the locals have had boob jobs and I suspect bottom implants too. We’ve even heard that it’s a traditional present for a wealthy 16 year old to have a boob job in Colombia; Med and I now play a mean game of real or fake!
The city also has a dramatic history – much served up by the drug kingpins of the late eighties and early nineties. Today, change is happening and Cali has become a safer and happier place for everyone.
Med was less than thrilled to be there though, where two left feet just don’t cut it. But I was desperate to go to a real Colombian Salsa club and try and keep up with the locals who started dancing, as one guy put it, “en el vientre” (in the womb).
So a few of us took a class in our hostel, with Carlos (so far everyone seems to be called Carlos in Colombia!). As we learnt fast Salsa and special Cali salsa to the Latino music in the studio with a wall of mirrors, I felt like I should have brought my high heels and be-jewelled skirt! I came out of the class drenched in sweat, feeling like I really should have been born Colombian. This was too much fun.
We headed out with a big group of travellers and locals to Las Brisas, a notorious Salsa hotspot full of be best dancers in Cali. Wow!
The brightly and skimpy clad costumes on the dancers dazzled as they fiercely moved their bodies in time to the beat, legs stepped perfectly in sync with each other and moving so fast I felt dizzy. I was finally here, and totally out of my depth!
Thankfully, within our group we had a few Salsa teachers who refused to let us sit down for more than two minutes at a time. Rum and Aguardiente (Colombia’s national spirit, similar to Ouzo) were passed around and I danced until I couldn’t feel my feet!
At one point I even found myself at the front of some kind of line dance version of Salsa with a huge audience - you just get into the outrageously electric atmosphere and no one seems to care that you’ve only had one lesson.
Five days into Colombia and we were overwhelmed and enchanted by its people and soul. Despite the very recent, tumultuous history, Colombians are an unbelievably friendly bunch. We have been stopped by complete strangers just to say “Bienvenidos” (welcome) more in this country then in all other countries combined. The staring at our white skin and fair locks continues with renewed vigour here, but at least they are most likely to do it with a smile or a “Buenos” (the short form of "Buenos dias" - good day.
I’ve fallen in love with this country, and am so excited about our last month of being "viajeros" (travellers).
 |
| Is this the biggest avocado in the world?! |
So naturally, crossing through what is fondly known as “bandit territory” had us interested and slightly nervous as to what would happen on our final crossing. We’d heard whisperings and tales of hijackings and robberies (even by the Colombian police!).
Thankfully, the only twist to this two-day journey was the insane amount of armed police and military that we saw on our way, armed with huge weapons.
Even in the most seemingly remote places, there would be a few fully decked out soldiers on the side of the road, complete with large automatic weapons slung over their shoulders, or sometimes by their sides, with their fingers actually resting on the trigger. We made sure to give them our best “gringo” (foreigner) smile and be polite!
 |
| Pretty Popayán |
Then we all got asked to get off the bus, separate into men and women and I watched as Med got a full frisking and bag search by a man with a gun. Thankfully, I just had a bag search and few questions about our journey.
We made it, without being hijacked, robbed or arrested – high five for us!
We arrived into the pretty colonial town of Popayán, known as the “white city”, since all the buildings are painted alike. Popayán is surrounded by some really beautiful countryside; many a mountain, volcano and national park, but the town is quiet and we just relaxed after a two day journey.
We did manage to sample some of the local nightlife though, in the form of a dark, maroon bar serving up cheap drinks, music from collectible, Colombian LPs and heaps of entertainment from the sozzled, rosy-cheeked locals who perched on wobbly stools and musty chairs.I loved it. This was the Colombia I had imagined: infectious Latino music, wafts of meat cooking on the street outside and tables oozing with empty beers and spirits.
There was only one thing missing: sizzling Salsa!
Cali is known as the salsa capital of the country, if not the world. (Salsa the dance form, not the dip!)
Cali is serenely surrounded by miles of sugar cane plantations, and sweeping landscapes, but its heart and soul is in complete contrast. It pulsates a unique and sassy energy, the energy of fiesta and homegrown Salsa.
Cali is also known for “medical tourism”, i.e., a lot of people come here to get plastic surgery. Certainly a lot of the locals have had boob jobs and I suspect bottom implants too. We’ve even heard that it’s a traditional present for a wealthy 16 year old to have a boob job in Colombia; Med and I now play a mean game of real or fake!The city also has a dramatic history – much served up by the drug kingpins of the late eighties and early nineties. Today, change is happening and Cali has become a safer and happier place for everyone.
Med was less than thrilled to be there though, where two left feet just don’t cut it. But I was desperate to go to a real Colombian Salsa club and try and keep up with the locals who started dancing, as one guy put it, “en el vientre” (in the womb).
So a few of us took a class in our hostel, with Carlos (so far everyone seems to be called Carlos in Colombia!). As we learnt fast Salsa and special Cali salsa to the Latino music in the studio with a wall of mirrors, I felt like I should have brought my high heels and be-jewelled skirt! I came out of the class drenched in sweat, feeling like I really should have been born Colombian. This was too much fun.
We headed out with a big group of travellers and locals to Las Brisas, a notorious Salsa hotspot full of be best dancers in Cali. Wow!
The brightly and skimpy clad costumes on the dancers dazzled as they fiercely moved their bodies in time to the beat, legs stepped perfectly in sync with each other and moving so fast I felt dizzy. I was finally here, and totally out of my depth!
 |
| Las Brisas Salsa club |
Thankfully, within our group we had a few Salsa teachers who refused to let us sit down for more than two minutes at a time. Rum and Aguardiente (Colombia’s national spirit, similar to Ouzo) were passed around and I danced until I couldn’t feel my feet!
At one point I even found myself at the front of some kind of line dance version of Salsa with a huge audience - you just get into the outrageously electric atmosphere and no one seems to care that you’ve only had one lesson.
Five days into Colombia and we were overwhelmed and enchanted by its people and soul. Despite the very recent, tumultuous history, Colombians are an unbelievably friendly bunch. We have been stopped by complete strangers just to say “Bienvenidos” (welcome) more in this country then in all other countries combined. The staring at our white skin and fair locks continues with renewed vigour here, but at least they are most likely to do it with a smile or a “Buenos” (the short form of "Buenos dias" - good day.
I’ve fallen in love with this country, and am so excited about our last month of being "viajeros" (travellers).
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