Wilshire Hospitality

It is finally happening... In the week+ since I've been home, I've been working pretty hard on officializing a 'dream' I've had for quite some time - venturing out on my own in to the gray world of consulting... I've been working on a few projects with a great 'client/partner' in the USA (FCA), and that opportunity has certainly been providing me the opportunity to spread my wings and plant some roots, and I've decided to step it up a notch and go global. After registering the domain url after college, the name of the group has never been a question, and within the next 6 weeks (I hope), m consultancy practice will be up and live for all to see. As many of you know, I'm not one to take myself too seriously, but it seems that my reputation precedes me and there are people who actually think I have more than resin in between my ears (not including the gorgeous punim, that goes without saying), so it is for the great population that I believe now is the time to properly represent the skills and abilities I like to think I have when it comes to the profession I have chosen for myself (this point is up for argument as well, but I do enjoy what I do, especially when it involves a good challenge and a creative spirit).

So, if you have a chance, check out www.wilshirehospitality.com in the coming weeks/months and let me know your thoughts. I will have a 'landing page' set up once I get the basic hosting information all set up while I complete the rest of the site, but I promise, it'll be done with the same thought, care, and attention to detail I anticipate putting in to everything I do (as you all know).

Viva la menta!

20/4...

Writing this magical date in the format outside of the USA just seems a little funny... Not only does it not 'read' the same way, it kinda loses its meaning, depending on who you're talking to... Aside from the more obvious reference, the one less discussed, and in all likelihood only referring to my previous life (wow, it really does seem like forever ago), brought about a different set of emotions (some of which need not be retraced). It marked the official, "it's been a year since the world changed" moment for me - I'm not going to get in to specifics, but it's been a long 'year' in the works, and the changes that I've gone through and decisions I've made for myself could never have been made if that fateful day, one year ago, had not transpired. Like kicking a dead horse, it took a while to bounce back and get my head on straight, and one year later, walking the streets of Buenos Aires, having just returned from the best trip of my life, my head held high, breathing in the late summer air (minus the pollution, notice I did not use 'clean'), thinking back on what was, what was close to having happened, and what I now had in store for the future, was pretty amazing. For all of you who have been around for me, especially over the last year, I thank you, for it was that support that helped me get to a point to be able to make a decision as 'drastic' and robust as the one I made, and to be here, where I am now, feels pretty good - and it is this place, one year ago, that I did not think I'd ever get to. Muchas gracias, se agradezco! And now, it's time for a few solars... B-)

La Vuelta a Baires...

What a whirlwind... Where can I even go from here? What is going to match that trip?

The answer is easy - another vacation!!

So it now seems as if my sister and one of my best friends (she's like a cousin/sister) will be rolling in to town at the end of the month, for a lengthy visit that will likely include extensive travel, local Spanish knowhow, a large drinking hat, and an iron stomach that will protect me from the damage at the restaurants in whatever town awaits us...

After they come/go, my parents will be here, followed by my two clown friends from college... This just never ends - and I thought I'd be coming down here to learn Castellano...

Let the good times roll! There's a French saying for this, and I believe they say it somewhere in Louisiana... I neither speak French (not yet...), nor have visited this particular area of Louisiana when said phrase is spoken at great length - can someone fill me in? Thanks for the reminder...

Where was I... Right, time to prepare my body for the damage that will be the month of May... Oy vey...

Viajando Solo...

If you haven't gotten the drift yet, my first 'solo' travel experience could not have been more memorable... And, if you have never traveled alone, have had a fear of traveling by yourself, or have always wanted to 'share' your travel experience with someone else, I can only say this: quit making excuses, and just do it! Maybe I've stolen a page from Phil Knight, but it's totally the truth... I too used to be in that boat - I want to share the experience, I can't do it by myself, who am I going to spend time with, how am I going to meet people, etc... You can never understand the power of the human will until you put yourself in a position that absolutely requires yo to change, do, think, and be, and if you don't, you'll always be wondering - can I, could I, do I think this is possible, etc...

I may be riding my own high horse right now, but having been a doubter/pessimist in the past, this whole experience really did have a big impact, and I suggest everyone get out there and have their own walkabout as well...

Peru - Lima

After a truly amazing 2 weeks traveling about in Colombia, it was time to head to Lima, for a guided, 3-day tour of the biggest city in Peru. A good friend of mine, from my Hotel Victor days, is a Peruvian native with a ton of family down there, so he was both generous enough to take care of hotel reservations (in Colombia as well) for me in Lima, as well as put me in touch with his neice (they are only about 10 years apart) and her friends to show me around town. Our first miscommunication occurred at the airport, where they were going to be waiting for me, with a sign, and we'd be on our way. However, they were informed I'd be traveling with my Filipino girlfriend (what?!), so they were looking for someone a bit different. It didn't help that there was not a sign, and I apparently forgot my Filipino girlfriend along for the vacation, so it took about 45 minutes to figure it all out (the intercom and customer service desk helped out a great deal).

So, once we sorted everything out, we were on our way for some late-nite anticuchos (I'll spare you the details, but they are 'beef' related, and come from a cow, but it's not steak) and a few pitchers of chica morada, a Peruvian 'kool-aid' of sorts, but way better! It was a nice introduction to what would amount to be a weekend full of eating myself silly and stuffing as much comida criolla down my hatch as possible. After dinner, we popped over to a modern development that sits atop a huge cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean - Larcomar Shopping Center has a ton of shopping, restaurants, bars, clubs, etc, and is located in the Miraflores neighborhood of Lima, which is a bit more upscale and where I would stay if/when I return to Lima for a trip - for a pisco sour and a café to wind the nite down.

My first real day started off on the same foot - as I was to meet the girls in my lobby at noon for a walking tour of the downtown area (plazas, iglesias, edificios, catedrales, etc), but by 1p, I opted to have a go of it solo and explained to the doorman that two girls were to have met me an hour before, and if they arrived, to send them out to try and find me along the 'ruta turista' downtown. So, much to my surprise, after walking about, taking pictures, grabbing a bite to eat, etc, I was standing outside in the Plaza de Armas when I noticed the girls walking toward me - it was pretty funny that after about 2 hours, they were finally able to find me (that said, I was wearing my gorro from Colombia, and a bright green polo shirt, so I probably stood out a little bit). They apologized profusely, which really wasn't that big of a deal, as I had set out to see things anyway, and made a few suggestions for other places in the area to see, which were great. We headed over to a huge church with catacombs beneath for a tour, and then popped out to a town called Callao (an armament/fort built in the same style as the fort/ciudad vieja de Cartagena) to see the ocean and take in some authentic cebiche (yes, they use a 'b' in place of the 'v' in Peru). We took a precarious, to say the least, bus ride out to Callao, which passed right through one of the poorest neighborhoods in the city, but it was great, I was with two local girls, dressed like a Colombian drug-trafficker, so I don't think there would have been any issues. Once we finally got home, we opted to take it relatively easy the rest of the afternoon and meet back up for a nite on the town, specifically, a salsa-dancing disco... Having just learned about Colombian salsa, I figured I could hang, but when Ana Christina (my friend's niece) told me that it was totally different, I figured a lot of booze could help me learn the moves - I couldn't have been more wrong... Well, at least I tried, but the style of salsa that is danced in Peru (or, Lima, at least) is a lot more akin to swing dancing, minus the throwing/tossing, but with just as much animation, movement and spinning, which differed a great deal from the style I learned in Colombia... Oh well, it was an experience, and I tried, but eventhough I may have quick feet on a soccer field (una cancha de fútbol), I cannot hang with Peruvian salsa... It was great to watch, and I put down a fair amount of beer, so when I got home, it was refreshing to hit the Sheraton bed/pillow combination.

The next morning, I wanted to see the Pacific Ocean (again), and go for a dip along the beaches, but the weather wasn't really cooperating, as the fog was so thick, you could barely see the water from the top of the cliff (at Larcomar). So, instead, I walked along the Circuito de Playa, from Miraflores to Barranco, a smaller, older community to the south. By the time I made it down to the beach, the weather started to clear up a bit, which continued over the rest of the day. So, at some point, I made a dash for the water, dropping my stuff on the beach, which was made up more of rocks than sand (but, good rocks, nice and round) and darted... The beach dropped off pretty rapidly, and all of a sudden, i was waste deep with no turning back, so I made the plunge and got carried out about 50 yards by the undertow... All was good, and I immediately got back to shore to towel off and continue the walk toward Barranco, stopping at random spots for pictures (naturally). It was a nice day that ended with a meal designated as 'comida criolla' (according to the restaurant, which had a name like - "eat here if you're a tourist"), and it was certainly delectable, despite the highlights being the Inca Kola and 'Simpsons' doughnuts I bought from a street vendor before heading back to the hotel to prepare for the evening events - a trip to the Circuito de Magico de Agua, a park with about a dozen water installations (ala Bellagio)... It was nice closure to the entire trip, walking in a park with lighting and water installations, with new friends, and reflecting on the trip that was coming to its end. We all ended up at a little chicken spot near one guy's apartment for dinner, after grabbing a rice pudding-esque dessert that was being sold by some street vendors at the partk (que rico).

When I awoke on my last day of this wild adventure, I wanted to spend a day seeing, documenting, photographing, and walking parts of the town that I would ordinarily shy away from - yup, the less well-off areas... Probably not the safest thing, but after two weeks by myself, my Spanish having made leaps and bounds since I first boarded the flight from Baires, and the confidence I had with all of it, I figured, piss in the wind and take a walk, gorro and all... So, that's exactly what I did. I walked with my head held high, a gait in my step, and the swagger that I really wasn't out of place and knew exactly where I was, what I was doing, and where I was going. It apparently worked, as I had no issues, chit chatted with a few strangers, bought myself a few goodies, and found myself back in my hotel room, packed and ready to head back to BA with the memories (and photos) of a lifetime...

And the next thing I knew, I was walking in to my front door and face-planting in my bed at about 5a... I did it, how awesome was that!

Colombia - Santander/Bogotá

Once my time in Cartagena was done, after extending the trip a few days to enjoy the relaxing beach weather, and work on that tan, I hopped on another overnite bus toward Santander, the region to the Northeast of Bogotá known for outdoor adventure activities. Specifically, I had been told to check out a city called Bucaramanga, which is also in Santander, but after extending my visit in Cartagena, I opted for the directness of Santander, specifically, the town of San Gil, which is an outpost/weekend destination for Bogotá-ans, and, considering it was the Wednesday before Good Friday, the town was sure to be filled with both people, and things to do. I arrived around mid-day, having secured accommodations with a hostel owned by an Australian guy named Shawn (he got to town 5 years ago, and never left) - luckily, there was an extra bed, so I got paired with a Swedish guy who had spent a few years in Colombia, a good shit. Once I got in, I met a handful of guys, some of whom were living in Bogotá (Americans), and some who were visiting (a brother, and some friends) - we were all heading to paraglide - an activity that my roommate, Laura the Great, had done during a trip in the south of Argentina. So, within about 30 minutes, my stuff was in a room, and I was off to be attached to a pilot (more on this) and a giant parachute, only to be launched off the top of a mountain... Sounds sweet!

We got to the site, where I was the last of our group to be strapped in and launched... My pilot, a 17 year old kid from Bogotá has, apparently, been flying parachutes like this one since he was 12 - what?! So, I certainly didn't object, as I was clearly unfit to to fly myself, but I was damn sure to be in a position to take pictures/video of the experience, which I happily obliged to do. The flight, which only lasted about 12 minutes, was pretty sweet! If only the day had been a little warmer, and with a few less clouds, but alas, I complain (una queja)... The vista over the Colombian countryside was amazing (have I mentioned how pretty the country is yet?!), rolling hills, mountains, farm land, the colors, the sky, wow! When we all got back in to town, the weather had turned a bit, and it was now drizzling, so we dashed to a local favorite of one of the guys living in Bogotá for a dinner. Nothing fancy, a few hot dogs, burgers, and fries (comida criolla - local fare), some licuados (smoothies) and we were set, each for about USD $3.

That nite, I went back to the hostel to document my travels and ended up running in to another guy with whom we shared a common interest, so we endeavored and made our way to the main square, where the party was just getting started to kick in the rebirth of little baby jesus - woo hoo! We met up with a slew of people our age who were going to a boliche later that nite, so, we tagged along, naturally, after putting down a handful of beers and making several toasts with the locals' fire-water (aguardiente). The nite ended when i climbed up to the top bunk at about 6a, having made the decision to sleep in (that meant until about 1030a), clean up, pack, and head to the bus station to head to Bogotá, where I would spend the nite in another Sheraton...

Once I got to Bogotá, it was about 9p, so I didn't have many options for dinner/going out, as it was now the nite before Good Friday, when people would turn out en-masse to pray to LBJ (not LeBron) for all that he has done for their lives. So, I hopped on to ASW to figure out the places to go, and found a seafood restaurant in a part of town called Parque 93 (on 93rd Street, amazing) to indulge, and that I did. I must have looked like a bum, and was certainly the youngest person dining, not to mention the only person dining solo, so I did what anyone in my shoes would do - I ordered escargot, a dozen oysters, a bottle of viognier, and the white tuna tasting menu, followed by a cup of espresso... That left me high and dry, specifically, kinda wasted, having put everything that was placed in front of me in to my body, so I hightailed it through what would have ordinarily been the 'Zona Rosa' of Bogotá, only to see that the entire city appeared to be somewhere else, and went to back to the hotel. I'd only have a few hours the next day to see the capital, so I wanted to get up bright and early...

My day started like any other, rolling over at 9a, jumping in the shower, putting on jeans, sneakers, and a hoody, and heading down to the lobby... This is where the normalcy of the day stopped, as I needed a taxi to get me to where I thought I'd get dropped off and waltz around... Instead, I got a 'private' taxi driver, who very quickly became my 'private tour guide for the 4-ish hours I'd have before having to make it to the airport for my flight to Lima... The tour was incredible - my private driver should have been the Minister of Tourism for the City of Bogotá. In my 4 hours, I saw so much more than I expected when I rolled out of bed, and learned a tremendous amount about the city - he took me to where the equivalent of the Declaration of Independence was signed, and where the forefathers of Colombia ratified their Constitution; the former being in a church, the latter being in a little plaza in the barrio of La Candelaría (the old part of town, with narrow streets, colorful buildings, and, obviously, incredible history).

My first few stops were around the house of Simon Bolivar, the liberator of Gran Colombia, which is at the base of the mountains where two church/monastery combinations were built to stand guard over the city, each north of 2000 meters and looking over Bogotá. The only two ways up/down, to Monserrati (the lower of the two), are by funicular or gondola (called a 'metrocable' but pronounced differently than you just said it in your head as you read). After touring this area, we went to the house itself, and then on to La Candelaría, before heading to the Plaza de Bolivar, the mother of all Plaza de Bolivars in Colombia. Three giant cathedrals stood on one side, with the other three sides of the Plaza surrounded by the Palacio de Justicia (this has been newly rebuilt, as M-19 burned the previous one to the ground in a terrorist attack in 1985), the Capitolio Nacional, and the Edificio Llevanó (City Hall). When I say, there were about 500,000 people out on this day, I am not kidding, as Colombia is one of the most devoutly faithful Roman Catholic countries in the world, and Good Friday of Semana Santa is relatively important to them... The masses were incredible, and even my newfound buddy said he thought the majority of the people out on this day to enter a church in the center of town were a little bit 'off'... Now, coming from a guy who told me he was religious, I found it to be somewhat comical...

At the end of the tour, I was both exhausted, and relieved, as my time in Colombia could not have been more amazing... I am looking forward to my next chance to go back, and with any luck, that time will be sooner than I expect, but, we'll see, as there are a lot of other countries in South America to check off...

Colombia - Las Playas de Cartagena

When I arrived at the bus terminal in Medellin, unaware of the bus schedules (they don't really exist in the public realm outside fo the actual terminal), I had learned of the bus company I should use - Rapido Ochoa - from a member of A Small World. So, I went straight to the window to find that I would be waiting for about 3 hours in the terminal until the 13 hour bus ride would commence. I found a little spot in the gigantic, loud, and borderline dirty waiting room, plopped down with all of my stuff, and took out my notebook and pen to take notes on what I had just done during the first 4-ish days in Colombia. My notes, paragraphs, and pages were written in both English and Spanish, as I tried to really embrace the whole 'Spanish' thing, but at times, I was lost without the ability to really express myself in my second tongue, so I would have to revert to English... With time, I got more comfortable, banged out a bunch of stuff, and got a little hungry, not knowing what to expect in terms of food for the overnite ride to Cartagena - what I found was a delicious hot dog, smothered in goodies like shoestring potato chips, special sauce (I didn't even ask), and corn, among other condiments. The hot dogs of Medellin were certainly highlights, as I've yet to have one since returning, fearing the one I try will not be as good as the ones I had.

There are experiences that one can have when traveling with people, be them friends and/or family that cannot be had when alone - now, remove your mind from the gutter for a moment - as the circumstances, freedom, and mindset are completely different. With this trip being the first one I've really taken by myself, I was no longer planning for other people, waiting on other people, or taking in to account what other people were interested in doing or not doing (it was all about me, and what I was in the mood for at any given moment - and I really enjoyed that, surprise surprise). When it comes to meeting people, I've typically been a relatively shy person in foreign situations (literally and figuratively, despite what friends may say), even now, but making the decision to make the trip to Colombia by myself was a great one! Getting on the bus, I was seated next to a young man (I can say that now, as both my mother and sister remind me that I am 'almost' 30) who was heading home for Semana Santa (Saint's Week - aka Easter) to be with his family. He, of all things, was a 22 year-old studying to be in the Seminary, apparently following in the footsteps of several generations of men in his family. So, it's him, and me, and we're surrounded by about a half-dozen, boppity young women, chatting it up - what a decision for me: chit chat about theology for 13 hours with a kid who is clearly dead set on religion, or, try my hand at Spanish with a handful of Colombian girls... The good thing is that I couldn't really go wrong, and always had the 'out' of just putting on headphones and going to sleep...

When I arrived in Cartagena, I had barely slept, and had befriended the girls (my row-mate got off a few hours earlier to make it home to his village, seriously), having spent the majority of the nite chit chatting and laughing about who knows what. However, one thing was for sure - my Spanish was already improving markedly; it had to, because none of them spoke more than three words of English. Could this really have happened to me? At one point, I did find myself looking in the mirror in the bathroom and washing up, saying this exact thing. I now had people to hang out with in Cartagena during the day, and party with at nite, and, six, pretty girls from Medellin, I mean, c'mon! Surely, this is not an experience I would have ever had if I was traveling with a friend, there's just no way...

So, I carried on to Cartagena (the ride from the bus terminal to the old city is about 35 minutes, and it winds right thru some of the poorest communities in Colombia - what a dichotomy!) with the girls, who dropped me off at my hostel before continuing to the house they rented for the week. It was time for me to explore, and get out. My first mistake, however, was reading the map wrong. Those who know me know that I am pretty astute when it comes to map reading, so I was pretty surprised when I walked the 3 blocks, and outside of the city walls (yes, Cartagena is one of the oldest fortified port towns in the New World, and a majority of it's charm lies within the walls of the old city - la ciudad vieja), to what I had presumed would be pristine, Caribbean beach... Well, the shading on the map was where the land met the water, but it was not in the form of crushed coral, rock, and bone (in the form of sand - 'arena' in Spanish), it was a rough, jaggedly rocky coastline. The beach, in Bocagrande, was about 2km away - awesome! I had selected the one hostel that is about as far from the beach as possible... So, I walked down the coast, snapping pictures of Bocagrande - it looks like a mini-Ocean Drive (South Beach, MiamI, USA), with modern sky-scrapers going up across the street from the beaches. One thing is for sure, the guide books were dead on when describing the 'scene' that you can expect when your foot hits the sand.

Los vendedores (vendors) are everywhere, offering mariscos (shellfish), massages, jewelry, coffee (tinto, as they call it in Colombia), cold beverages, fruit, you name it... And, as a 'fresh' face on the beach, I got 'gringoed' - big time! I guess the tan I had from my time in Punta del Este (Uruguay) had worn off, cuz I felt like a white kid, so within about 2 seconds, I was in a chair, eating fresh oysters (tiny as they may have been), getting my feet rubbed, and being offered hand-made jewelry by a guy wearing a River Plate jersey... At least there was something familiar, as I had on an Arsenal t-shirt... Unfortunately, they assumed I played for the team, or had something to do with them, so they continued shucking the oysters, and rubbing my body... When it was all said and done, they told me it would be about $120,000 pesos Colombianos (roughly USD $50) - it was now time to negotiate... I bartered my way down to about $60,000 (woo hoo!) and told them there was no way this 'team' was going to get me a second time for any of this stuff. I then walked up the beach some more, and plopped down to get a tan so I could blend in a bit more with the locals. After a bit, I found a dive shop so I could schedule some 'buceos' over the weekend - something I hadn't done since spring break my senior year in college - and get myself all situated to enjoy Caribbean nitelife, Colombian style...

If you make it to Cartagena, you MUST go to Mr. Babilla - a great bar/club that is filled with young, drunk, dancing, good looking people. Apparently, as I learned while venturing the bar, the Colombian liquor of choice is Aguardiente - a fiery, gasoline-esque, anise-flavored, licorice drink... Really, it's just the Colombian version of sambuca, ouzo, pastis, ojen, kasra, or anything else you can add to the list from around the world - I don't like any of the former, but figured I'd check that box in Colombia, why the hell not! Well, it does just the same thing as the rest - the result is that you end up crawling home, wasted, but you have a great time in the process (at least the pictures suggest I did, ha). This was basically what happened every nite, and I loved every minute of it, but it was the waking up in the morning for my dives that became a little tricky after the third nite...

Cartagena, while being on the Caribbean, has been exposed to 'port-related' activity for a handful of years now (like, hundreds), so despite the beauty of the protected Rosario Islands, the best scuba diving is really much further north off the coasts of the islands of Providencia, San Andrés, and Santa Catalina - a hotly contested archipelago with Nicaragua - but that's a 90-minute flight, and in the cards for a future trip to Colombia. Nonetheless, I went on the dives thru the shop called Buzos de Baru, a small, family-owned shop (two brothers, and a wife of one of them, all of whom are quite nice, speak English, and are master divers/instructors). I ended up making 4 dives, two 'acuarios' (reef dives), a deep water dive, and a shipwreck, the latter of which was the first one I had made. It was pretty interesting swimming thru a WWII era ship that sunk off the coast - we actually ran in to quite a large fish (no clue of the species, but gigantic) who had taken up residence below the decks in one of the aft cabins... In Rosario, we lunched after our two dives on the first day, being fed a mound of fish, fruit, and salad, all of which were pretty good when run together - the name of the island highlighting this little excursion: La Isla de la Pirata. Nuf said...

The city of Cartagena, the old part, is loaded with narrow streets, colorful buildings, cobblestone streets, vendors galore, and a romantic vibrance that I have never experienced before in my life. The closest things I can think of are the streets of Old San Juan (Puerto Rico, USA?), but that barely holds Cartagena's jock strap, to use a sports reference. The people, who are a total mixed bag of Caribbean, Spanish, African, and European was a refreshing, diversified population - certainly one WAY darker than here in Buenos Aires, so it was nice to finally see a little bit of diversity. I often wondered if racism, given the history of colonial rule, slavery, inter-racial 'relations' and years of mixed-breeding (that sounds like dogs), is still prevalent. It certainly didn't seem like that, as everyone just seemed happy to be providing services, even if their idea of providing service was badgering the hell out of tourists to buy stupid crap, or to get a tip for taking a picture (cueue the 'chiquita banana lady').

The city is one that should be seen, and shared with someone special, as it offers all the great qualities of a resort town (day excursions, beach-side lounging, cocktails with umbrellas) with all the benefits of a European village along the Mediterranean (culture, color, nitelife, and seafood - this could just be a function of not having great access to seafood in BA). So, get to Cartagena when it's warm, enjoy the experience, and hopefully you'll have some stories to tell and photos to share when you get home...

Colombia - Manizales/Medellin

Reliving the adventures that I had in Colombia is certainly tough, despite the last two weeks of telling almost everyone about how amazing of a trip I had there, but, I want to share the summary/highlights with you all, as it truly was a mindblowing vacation.

For starters, the trip came about because I had found out about a breakfast panel meeting taking place in Medellin with a handful of big-wig type economists, bank heads, etc discussing the future economic and political challenges South America (all representatives were from various countries in South America). So, having found this meeting, I began to plan a trip through Colombia, figuring, "if I'm going to go to Colombia, I might as well see the country." And, the more I researched, the more people I spoke with about the country, the more interested i became in getting up there, so after a few weeks of monitoring flights to Bogotá, I finally found one for under under US $500, and had to book. Mind you, this was 5 days before the departure, and I really didn't have a 'plan' for the other 13 days of the vacation, but, in trying to turn over a new leaf, I pissed in to the wind and bounced to Colombia, with a backpack, a Lonely Planet guide (which I bought the day before I left), a few contacts, and my iPhone...

The start of my trip couldn't have gotten off worse... Despite the not sleeping the nite before because my flight was so early departing BA, I made it to the airport, got thru security, and boarded - all was fine... Until, we were trying to make our landing in Lima (I had to fly thru Lima to get the super cheap rate to Bogotá)... All of a sudden, the plan makes a weird jerky movement, like the 'ride' at an amusement park when the floor drops out and you free fall for a few seconds, though it feels like forever... Then, the plane made an abrupt ascent, as if we were 'pulling' out of a nuclear bomb detonation... Something didn't feel exactly right, and about 2 seconds later, we received an announcement about poor weather conditions (neblina - fog) In Lima, which were forcing us to reroute to some place to land and wait it out. So, 5 hours later, we go the go ahead from Lima, that it was finally ok to return for a landing... Needless to say, I missed my connection and was rebooked on a flight leaving about 7 hours later, totally screwing up my plans for the first day and overnight bus ride I was trying to take to get to my first destination - Manizales.

Upon arrival in Bogotá, it was about 1.30a, I snuggled up to the most comfortable bench, sent a few emails to family/friends telling them of my travails, and tried to get some rest, as the flight I was more or less forced to book from Bogotá to Manizales (in Lima) was departing at 5.50a. Instead of losing a full day of travel via bus from Bogotá to Manizales, I opted to eat the US $140 and just get there...

The arrival to Manizales was out of a movie - the sun poking through the clouds, the city built in-to and on top of a mountain, the green forests draping the Andes Mountains, and the single, black runway at the airport... Magnificent! I had had plenty of time to research the area, and was hoping to make it early enough to catch a hiking tour to the Parque Nacional de Los Nevados, where 3 volcanoes are located, all of which have wreaked havoc on the surrounding communities over the years. Unfortunately, the adventure company's office was not open at 7a, and by the time they opened at 8a, the tour had already gone for the day, so I opted for the next best thing that day - a tour of the Zona Cafetera (coffee growing region - think Juan Valdez). This tour was unlike anything I had previously experienced. El paisaje (the landscape) of Colombia is totalmente increíble! Driving from Manizales out to the fincas (coffee plantations), the elevation decreased a bit, the temperate rose, the sun was blaring, and the sky was blue - I really couldn't have asked for much more, except for maybe a shower, but I knew I could get one of those later. Throughout the tour, which was given to me privately by the owner of the company (all in Spanish I might add), I kept finding myself being amazed with the topography of what I was seeing - dicing through the mountains, seeing plush forests, fincas, estancias (ranches), etc, and buzzing around every turn with a bit of fear, as the road barriers 'protecting' cars from a certain demise should they careen off the side were far from 'protective,' acting more like guideposts...

Finally, we came to the finca for a tour and a tasting... For those who know me, I'm NOT a coffee drinker... Er, correction, I was formerly a non-coffee drinker, until now... I love the stuff! Maybe it would be like losing your virginity to a Victoria's Secret model, but I really have a thing for coffee now. Not dissimilar to wine tasting, there are certain aromas, methods of service/presentation, mouth feel, and flavors to look for to determine the quality of the cup. And, like wine, really good cafeteros (I think) can tell from which areas a particular bean was grown/harvested, just like those super snooty sommeliers.

Well, day 1 was all but over, after having dinner, alone, at a parrilla in the Zona Rosa (caveat: all towns in Colombia have a Zona Rosa), which was surprisingly slow, granted it was a Monday, when I returned to my hotel to learn that my sister was finally free from her now last job, and first one she had out of school. It was melancholy, but something she had wanted for a while, albeit under different circumstances (she's since founda new, better job and has the time to come visit me!).

So, having signed up for the hiking tour up the volcanos earlier in the day, I made the decision to skip the meeting in Medellin and enjoy the Colombian countryside, and that I did. I woke up the next morning with plenty of time to spare in order to pack, organize my things and meet the van downstairs for my 7a pickup... Well, when 745a rolled around, I began to get a little nervous, as I had no way of contacting the office because they weren't opening until 8a, which I learned on my first day... Luckily, the guide called the hotel and told the front desk they were on their way, as a few of the other people they picked up stayed a bit further away - phew!

The trip from Manizales to Parque Nacional de Los Nevados was breathtaking... It lasted a few hours until we got to 'base camp' at about 4,600 meters (just a hair over 15,000 feet), and the views were amazing... Observing the climatic changes as our elevation increased, the life-forms and vegetation that changed as the amount of oxygen in the air decreases was pretty cool to experience. Driving through 'the pass' in Colorado always takes my breath away, but this seemed, and felt different. By the time we got to base camp, the temperate had dropped considerably (something I wasn't entirely prepared for when I packed clothes for two weeks, whoops!), and I had to put on the pair of gloves (guantes) that I purchased at some random stop we made, and zip up. I was decked out in a hoodie, a spring-weight ski jacket, wool gloves, a pair of soccer warm up pants, and sneakers - hardly the attire of a trekker north of 15,000 feet... So, from base camp, we began the hike, which lasted a few hours, experiencing even more climate changes - at one point, the terrain felt like the moon (footprints in the mud-like soil that was soft enough to wipe out easily, yet firm enough to support someone walking cautiously), with barren landscapes and a chill in the air that seemed surreal. Finally, we got to about 4,900 meters, where a large Colombian flag was raised. Naturally, the group was not comprised of a bunch of mountaineers (just our guide), so we took a much needed break, to take photos, of course! After about 15 minutes, we continued onward, hiking to 5,000 meters, where snow-peaked mountains starting poking through the cloud-line - there wasn't any noticeable living vegetation, nor mammalian life at this point either. At this altitude, the soil was slick, and the snow was soft, so we did what anyone else would do - we made giant snow balls and launched them tumbling down the mountainside! A few more pictures at the near-top of the mountain (a sign at 4,900 meters suggests that only experienced trekkers should continue past 5,000 meters, or risk serious health problems - one of those signs you read before sky-diving/bungee jumping/paragliding, only the middle of which I have yet to do), and the reverse trek began… This is where the altitude clearly began to affect our midnsets, as I opted to make a little game of it – skiing in sneakers and tobogoning on my ass... And yes, I have videos of both, what a great day!

On to Medellin, where the Sheraton was awaiting my arrival with a clean bed, a hot shower, and some room service – I figured this was all well deserved after my first 3 days in Colombia…

For those who have not had the opportunity, Medellin is an absolute must if you’re passing through South America… The city really does have it all – an absolutely breathtaking vista from everywhere; it has been developed/built in a valley like most cities in Colombia, and is completely surrounded by mountains. The two days I spent here were 'a pie' (on foot), visiting, seeing, photographing, and sampling as much as I could. Despite having missed the meeting that had been the catalyst for the entire planning of the trip to Colombia, the conference that had been taking place for the 50th Anniversary of the Inter-American Bank of Development (the investment/development arm of the World Bank, aimed at assisting credit-worthy poorer countries with a long history in South America) was still in full swing, so the city was absolutely immaculate - something as big as this conference likely ahd been in the works for years, so the city had plenty of time to prepare to host the leaders of the free-world's investment decisions and representatives from international banks galore, etcetera, etcetera... I was lucky to have been there during this time, as everyone I dealt with, from street vendors, cab drivers, bankers, and fellow tourists, were all incredible gracious and 'super'-nice (a widely-used adverb in Colombia). Being from a city, I wanted to just hit the pavement, having done 'rural' adventures the previous two days in/around Manizales, so I took to the streets, learned the light-rail system (it was amazingly efficient, extremely clean, and quite direct) and hit the town.

On my first day, i wanted to get a sense of what El Centro had to offer, namely, museums, churches, governmental buildings, parks, and the general business sector of the city. With my day-pack in tow, I pulled out my city-guide (one of the nice things about the Sheraton was that it was a 'host' hotel for the conference, so a little tour-guide kiosk was set up and offering free pamphlets of the tours they offered - thank you very much for the advice) and Lonely Planet and mapped out my first day. I hit El Centro in full stride, having grabbed a bite to eat at a little breakfast place on Parque Lleras (in the trendy, upscale neighborhood of Poblado south of downtown), and finished with a coffee - even now, it still seems a little strange that I have been converted to a coffee drinker. The train ride from the south to downtown was pretty cool, as the day was nice and the weather was perfect to be 'a pie' and as we cruised, I could feel the vibrance of the town bouncing around the mountains... I ended up popping in and out of what felt like 30 churches, just in El Centro, and shuffled between Plaza Bolivar/El Catedral, and the Plaza de Esculturas (de Botero) quite easily, snapping away like a paparazzi on a mission. Now, I had ready about Not about Botero, the chosen son of Santa Fe de Antioquia (the region, or, "departamento" of Colombia where Medellin resides), but didn't really realize that both the Plaza de Esculturas and the Museo de Antioquia (along with well-placed Botero-inspired billboards) were dedicated almost entirely to him until I turned the corner around the Palacio de Cultura (which was formerly a governmental palace and is beautifully designed) and was smack dab at a bronze convention of oversized, blobby-glob sculptures of rounded people and animals - it felt kind of weird, but very cool at the same time. So, I ended up passing the majority of the day roaming a few of the streets, peotonals, museums, and buildings, trying to indulge myself in a bit of 'Paisa' (the term for a person from Medellin) culture - pretty cool stuff. The day ended with drinks in Parque Lleras, despite the rain...

With only the rest of the second day in Medellin to spare, ha, I had a fairly aggressive plan to head to the northern part of the city to check out the 'other' sights (there are a ton, and I knew there was no way I would even come close to checking off all the boxes, but, when in Rome?!) - Parque Explora/Acuario, Jardín Botánico, Parque de Deseos, Parque Norte (get the idea - this was my 'parque' day)... Unfortunately, the weather was not on my side for spending a day outside, as it was overcast, a bit rainy, and a little chilly, but, I carried on... I hit the Jardín Botanico a little before noon, after making my way from the hotel after a light, on the fly breakfast courtesy of some street vendors, and didn't really know what to expect - I had read good things, but when it comes to gardens, flowers, and plants, it can be hit or miss with the delivery... Well, I couldn't have been more amazed - not only was admission free, but the cleanliness, tranquility, and organization of the entire 'park' was awe-inspiring. From the palm forest, to the 'casa de mariposas,' to the research laboratory (a super-modern glass and metal building with tons of natural light; probably something to help the plant experiment I found while wandering around unescorted), to the cactus region, along the winding path to the event space and restaurant, and finally, the big daddy - the orquideorama (an homage to the nationally cultivated, and highly exported orchid trade). This place was amazing!! Seeing this monster structure from afar made me feel like I was in Return of the Jedi approaching the Ewok village - a large canopy protecting what appeared to be a mystical enclosure... As I got closer, I was in awe of the size of this section of the park (which, was newly renovated, having taken about 3 years between 2005-2007). The flowers that it contained were incredible - the variety of colors, textures, and species was breathtaking. I spent a good hour, alone, in the orquideorama, snapping photos of all the plants, flowers, people, and artists who all seemed to be as taken back by the surroundings. The yoga class I came upon certainly seemed fitting, as did the art class, and handful of small-ish tours that were waltzing through. I finally ended my amazement by taking a step in to the restaurant, which overlooked another area of the park for what ended up being a very delicious, and very peaceful lunch. Now, the afternoon was getting away from me, and I had to get out and see the other parks in he neighborhood, before heading to the bus station for the overnight ride to Cartagena. So, I walked across the street and headed to Parque Explora, a kind of Museum of Science and Industry (Chicago) mixed with the Shedd Acquarium (Chicago) and Lincoln Park Zoo Reptile Exhibit (Chicago, are you surprised?). This building was clearly very new as well (based on a handful of periodicals I picked up after visiting, it seems to have opened in 2008), with a super-modern facade that seemed to be built on pedestals connecting three distinct, red, metallic buildings (each of which housed various parts of science and industry). With my camera battery running low because of the exhaustive use I put it through at the botanical garden, I raced through in order to carry on my aggressive run through the city's parks. Unfortunately, after buzzing through the reptilian room, and the aquarium (my two favorite places), I only had enough time to duck in to one of the three, large exhibit spaces offering visitors a selection of physical science, geology, and the digital world. I went with physical science, naturally... In here, I learned how little I knew about life's sciences, in Spanish, and how useful a role museums play in educating the youth of all countries. I learned a tremendous amount, not specifically about science, as I had already gone through much of the content and have continued my education through the Discovery Channel, but, I learned all of this stuff in Spanish, which was the important part. It was pretty cool to be taught by someone who appeared to be in high school, explaining the function of things like pressure, force, gravity, etc, in Spanish.

So, after bailing out on Parque Explora, I went outside, only to find that it was now drizzling - awesome! I busted out and darted to Parque de Deseos, figuring I could make Parque Norte (an amusement park) the next time I spin through Medellin. When I arrived to Parque de Deseos, it felt a little different that the way my Lonely Planet described it - the modern, concrete park where all the college kids hang out (it's close to the University of Antioquia)... The age of the students was more like junior high school than college, and it wasn't quite as big as I imagined, but it was certainly quite modern, and completely made of concrete, but not in a skate-park kind of way. After walking through, I hopped back on the metro toward the hotel, where I did a quick turnaround and headed for the bus station to catch a ride to paradise...