Mendoza: Gauchos, goals and gallons of wine

 Day 4: Mendoza city 

So today I discovered Argentinian low cost airlines are shit. Surprising I know. The plane is delayed an hour, and when it finally arrives, we’re informed the aircon is broken and it’s a fully booked flight. The overhead oxygen mask compartments are stuck down with sticky tape and peeling at the ends. BUT, in more positive news, I still had my hand luggage after the flight!

I arrive in Mendoza and its HOT! Sweltering heat aside, I already feel more comfortable here than Buenos Aires. The pace is far more relaxed and it’s a much more manageable size! I head straight for lunch at Fuente y Fonda, where I break from tradition and order pork with sweet potato mash and mustard sauce. The portion is ridiculously huge so I only manage half. It’s served with bread, salad, and they even through in a choice of dessert. I opt for the queso y dulce (literally translates as cheese and sweet) which is becoming my favourite thing here.  It’s basically a slice of cheese with a gelatin like jam on top. It’s so basic, but so delicious! The whole meal, with wine, costs me £10. Bargain! 

Having seen most of the city in 30 minutes, I decide to walk out to Cerro de la Gloria, a small hill which is a 4 or 5 kilometre walk. I figure I’ll walk there and taxi back. Boy did I live to regret that decision. It was an afternoon of mistakes, particularly deciding to embark on the trek during the hottest part of the day, and discovering there was practically zero shade on the route. Unsurprisingly, I passed no-one else on my way. But at this point I’m committed, albeit starting to worry about heat stroke.

I was so relieved to arrive at the foot of the hill until it dawned on me that I had to climb the damn thing! Being honest, I was THIS close to calling it a day and heading back to town. But I’d come this far! So I struggle on, the water in my bottle about to melt the plastic. 

The reward wasn’t worth the effort. Even if I had been met at the top with a naked Channing Tatum pouring a bucket of ice cold water over my head and handing me a pint, I still wouldn’t have done it. I ask the police officer at the top the easiest way back to town. He responds by asking why I don’t just jump back on the people carrier that carts tourists back and forth from the centre. When I tell him

I walked here he looks at me like I have 3 heads. Yes officer, I know, I’m a knobhead!

After my narrow escape from death, I head home to take a cold shower and relax then enjoy a lovely cocktail at Gingger before heading to Azafrán for dinner. Its definitely more on the fine dining side than the places I’ve eaten at so far. But I like to mix it up wherever I go. 

I’m poured a sparkling wine as I sit down and given a pre dinner snack - a goats cheese macaron. It’s both sweet and savoury and absolutely bloody delicious. We’re off to a good start! Next is the beef tartare with egg yolk and qinuoa crumb. Erm, yes please. Followed by goat, black garlic and potato crisps. Really tasty, but super rich and definitely bigger than it needed to be! For main, it’s hake with pesto and beans. This was definitely my favourite course of the evening! But again, the portions size is ridiculous, I’ve never seen a hake so big in my life! Too full for dessert, I enjoy the complimentary Dulce de leche chocolate and coffee before heading home to bed. The whole meal, with wine pairings, cost around £70. 

Day 5: Lujan de Cuyo

The next morning, after my daily medialuna and coffee, I jump in a taxi and head 20 minutes south to Chacras de Coria, my base for the next two days. This is proper wine country, and the whole reason for my visit! My Airbnb host, Raul, is super friendly and insists on driving me to the bike rental place. Once there, I’m given a bike and a map and sent on my merry way! Well, the merry part comes later…

The bike paths are sporadic and I found myself cycling on roads most of the time. That’s probably because I went beyond the boundaries of the map I was given to visit the bodega I had booked for lunch. I never like to do things the easy way, as you’ve probably realised by now. But it’s all part of the experience! 

My first stop is Bodega Viamonte. The setting is incredible against the backdrop of the Andes mountains. It’s so beautiful it doesn’t looks real, like you’re looking at a postcard. The photos don’t do it justice. My wine flight includes three wines, one white and two reds. I knock them back in quick succession - no fannying around. I’ve got more wineries to visit! 

My next stop is a 30 minute cycle in sweltering heat and no shade. Theme of the trip. But at least if I pick up the speed I have the breeze to keep me cool. Plus, think of all the meat and empanadas calories I’m burning!

I arrive at Bodega Renacer and it’s just as beautiful as the first. Only this one has DOGS. I’m in heaven. Here I enjoy a 3 course lunch, beginning with the most incredible burrata salad I’ve ever had in my life. I think it was the macerated strawberries and the orange vinegarette that made it. Next up is, yes you guessed it, steak! I order it medium rare, but I’d say it was more medium. I’m surrounded by four beautiful dogs at this point so I couldn’t care less. Dessert is red velvet biscuit with ice cream. I’ve had four wines here to accompany the food, and the portions are generous. Plus they ask which one you liked most then fill up your glass. Luckily I’m not driving. It’s at this point I should point out, for my mother’s sake, that my bike came equipped with a helmet. Now whether I wore it or not is another thing…

The last bodega on my self guided bike tour is the man, the myth, the legend, Carmelo Patti. His reputation precedes him, and it’s easy to see why. He speaks barely any English, so if you don’t speak Spanish you might struggle to follow his tour. But regardless of language, what’s easy to understand is his passion for what he does and the wine he produces. Which by the way is delicious. Unfortunately I couldn’t buy any to take home, given I’m now travelling with hand luggage. Thanks Iberia. 

I head back to my Airbnb for a much needed dip in the pool. When I say pool, I mean hole in the ground with water, which I enter in my mis-matched bra and pants because my bikini is somewhere in Madrid. Nevertheless, it’s super refreshing and I’m only slightly embarrassed when Raul pops over with a pool towel. 

Dinner tonight is 25 minutes away at Cavas Wine Lodge, a 5 star hotel and winery. The location is absolutely stunning. If I ever find a man good enough to marry me, I may well do it here! 

Exiting my classy Fiat Uber, I’m greeted at the door of the chateau by my waiter who offers me a glass of red and shows me to my table. If there’s ever a time where I wish I had my nice clothes, this is it! The setting is incredible, and I have a table overlooking the vineyards and the mountains. A very romantic meal for one.

I have to say, at no point have I sat down to a meal here and felt hungry. The heat really does something to your appetite, and my stomach is full from the litres of water I’m drinking to stay hydrated! But, I soldier on regardless and do what I do best. Eat!

I settle on two courses. To start, I order the  vegetarian dish which is pumpkin wrapped in grilled zucchini with a creamy almond purée. It was unbelievably tasty, and nicely matched with a Sauvignon Blanc. They grow and serve their own wine here and you can’t drink or buy it anywhere else but in the hotel, which is a shame because it’s delicious. 

For main, I’d ordered the duck on suggestion of the waiter. I have to say I was disappointed. The duck was tough, I couldn’t cut it with my knife, and it was over salted. That’s what you get when you decide to have a break from beef!

I definitely got my moneys worth in wine though. I did the wine pairing with my courses, but they constantly top up your glass when you finish and don’t charge any extra. Which came in handy when I had to wait 30 minutes for my taxi to arrive. 

Day 6: Gauchos and asados!

I’m up bright and early for my 7am pick up. Today is my guacho experience day, one of the things I’ve been looking forward to most. 

It’s about a 2 hour drive to the ranch (El Rancho Rosario), but it takes Lucas, my driver, 3.5. We stop to pick up 5 kilos of meat and then spend the next hour driving back and forth along a dirt road looking for the entrance to the ranch. We stop at 4 farmhouses along the way to ask for directions. “Look for the two big rocks” they say. Very helpful, given there’s bloody rocks everywhere! As I’m losing the will to live, we finally find the entrance. 

The ranch is by a river in the middle of nowhere with the Andes mountain as a backdrop. I’ve been worse places. There to greet us is Gaucho Eduardo, Elena, who helps with Spanish translation when required, and her partner Gabriel. Thankfully I’m not doing the trip alone and I’m joined by Andy, a retired IT consultant from Kent. His wife and daughter are on a 3 day horse trek in the mountains with Jose, the owner of the ranch, and Andy stayed behind, not being a keen rider.

I arrived in shorts, but due to the sun, the chaffing and the branches, you really need to have your legs covered. With no other options, I end up in Andy’s hiking trousers. He’s over 6 feet, so you can imagine how well they fit me. I had to use the gaucho’s belt to stop them from falling down.

Looking the part, I clamber onto my horse, Bayo, and off we go. It’s apparent right from the start that Bayo doesn’t want to work. Who can blame him, it’s 33 degrees and I’ve eaten a LOT of steak. I find myself playing catch up most of the trek and I’m glad that it’s only a 2 hour ride! It was a great experience, and the scenery is spectacular, but my ass hurts and I’m ready for wine! 

We head down to the river where Lucas and Gabriel have been busy setting up our lunch spot and grilling the meats on the BBQ. The one thing I was intent on doing in Argentina was experience an authentic asado, and I couldn’t have asked for a better location or better company. We had different cuts of meats, chorizo sausages and grilled vegetables and it was all as delicious as I’d expected. So delicious that the dog nabbed a whole rack of ribs off the grill when we weren’t looking and bolted across the river. We were stuffed at that point anyway! 

At this point I’d have been driven back home, but Argentina are playing the Netherlands in an hour and football is life here. I couldn’t ask Lucas to miss the game to drive me home, and I wanted to see it myself. And what better way to experience the game than in a roadside bar in a small town in Mendoza with Argentinians! 

Watching a football match here is nothing like watching a game back home! When we enter the bar the match has started, and it’s absolute silence. I ask why, and I’m told it’s because everyone is very nervous. There’s also hardly anyone drinking alcohol (apart from Andy and I who are chugging beer at the back). If this was an England match, there’d have been countless fights by now and folk would be spewing out in the street. 

The place erupts when Argentina score their second goal, and everyone starts to relax, until the Netherlands start to make their come back. The equalising goal in the 10th minute of injury time was brutal to watch! When the penalties start, half the bar is outside smoking watching from window. It’s tense! Thankfully Argentina win on penalties and the place goes nuts! I’m extremely relieved as a 2 hour ride back home with a depressed Lucas wouldn’t have been fun! 

As we start our journey back, people are lining the streets waving flags and there’s cars driving around honking their horns. I ask Lucas where they’re going. Nowhere, he says. Just driving in circles celebrating. You’d think they’d have won the final! Never seen passion for football like it in my life! I can only imagine what the semi finals is going to be like on Tuesday. 

I get back to my Airbnb much later than expected and rush to my dinner reservation at Clos Chacras, a winery in the town centre. It’s a 3 course meal with wine pairings for less than £20. God bless Argentina. 

I order the duo of empanadas to start, which I have to say are some of the best I’ve had so far. I’ve eaten 5 kilos of meat today, so for main I order the ricotta and spinach pasta dumplings with carrot and parmesan. Dessert is a Malbec poached pear with a nut crumble, which I’m counting as one of my 5 a day. Completely exhausted, I head home to bed and pass out.

Mendoza has definitely been the highlight of my trip so far. Lovely scenery, lovely people and amazing food! Next stop, Salta! 

Buenos Aires: Tears, tantrums and tango

Day 1: Buenos Aires 

Well, Buenos Aires has not been very bueno for me!! I arrived at the airport to discover that my suitcase did not join me. Cue a very long wait at lost luggage, an incompetent employee, and a very tired and impatient Rhiannon. Those who know me well can imagine how this interaction went. I was close to getting thrown out of the country before I’d even entered it.

As I write this 3 days later, its whereabouts are still unknown, and Iberia have been less than helpful. The tracking website claims “the search continues”, like my suitcase is on the lamb after committing a serious crime. And no Greg, not a crime against fashion! I had some good shit in there! Fortunately, as this happened to me earlier this year in Colombia, I had the foresight to pack essential toiletries and a clean pair of pants in my hand baggage. But I got my suitcase back the next day in Colombia. I fear this time it’ll never be seen again.

After checking into my Airbnb to dump my imaginary suitcase, I grab a taxi to San Telmo market where hundreds of stalls stretch for miles selling cheap tat. Why do we love a Sunday market when travelling?? It’s rammed with people, and given the heat (33 degrees), my tiredness, and my frustration with Iberia, it’s the last place I want to be. I make a beeline for El Hornero and buy two empanadas to go. This place is well-known, which explains the long line to be served. I opt for the classic beef, which is delicious. 

After the market, I spend an hour or so wandering through the colourful streets of La Boca, watching some live tango and sampling some delicious craft beer at Temple bar. As expected, its a super touristy area but cute nonetheless. From here I jump in a taxi to Plaza de Mayo to see the Casa Rosada (with the famous Evita balcony). Despite being in the same dirty clothes and absolutely reeking from the flight, the taxi driver takes a shine to me and asks for my number. Must be my dazzling personality. He offers to take me out for dinner and to drive me to cheap shops where I can replace my lost clothes. I politely decline, imagining his form of payment being one I’m unwilling to make. 

I head to my Airbnb to shower and change into my one and only pair of clean pants before hitting the streets of Palermo in search of much needed alcohol. I have two delicious cocktails in Tres Monos before heading to Casa Coupage for a paired wine dining experience in Santiago and Luciana’s house. There’s 8 of us doing the experience tonight, including a couple from Barcelona, a couple from NYC, an annoying solo female traveller from

Chicago (there’s always one), and a couple from San Francisco. 

We start on the terrace with a lovely white wine and amazing goats cheese empanada. All wines throughout the night, and there is ALOT of wine, are tasted blind. Each set of wines is paired with a food course, and each changes the flavours of the dishes (not to sound like a total wine wanker or anything). The food, cooked by chef Paco, is incredible and I’m happy to get my first (but definitely not my last) taste of Argentine beef! 

We’re all hammered by the end of the evening and head to our respective homes to pass out in a food and wine coma. Short lived for me with my jet lag, waking up bright and early at 6am. 

Day 2: Buenos Aires 

My original plans the next day changed, based on the fact I had zero clean clothes left. The last thing I want to do here is shop. Well, the last thing I want to do anywhere is shop as I hate it with a passion. This is where things get a little complicated. 

Here’s the problem with Argentina. You can’t get your hands on Argentine pesos until you’re physically in the country. There’s two exchange rates - the official one you get when using bank cards or withdrawing from ATMs which is terrible, and the “blue rate” which you obtain illegally on the street in exchange for US dollars. The middle ground is to opt for transferring money to a Western Union and withdrawing in cash. This is the option I went for. This will get you almost double the money compared to withdrawing via an ATM. What I hadn’t anticipated was how fucking difficult it would be to find a Western Union that a) had any money left or b) didn’t have a queue a mile long. 

Things here aren’t as cheap as I expected, and it’s actually far dearer to buy clothes here compared to back home. I head to an area where there are cheaper clothes (and a western union with cash!) The clothes are terrible quality, but the shop attendants carry your chosen items around as you go, like you’re having a fucking personal shopping experience in Harrods or something. I buy a few things to keep me going, along with a bar of laundry soap so I can wash as I go and rotate outfits every few days. I’ve resigned myself to being a full blown hobo for the next 2 weeks. Might let my armpit hair grow and everything. Fuck it. 

Lunch today is a typical Argentinian one - Choripán. Which, if you haven’t discovered from the name, means chorizo sandwich. Luckily I’d done my research before travelling (by watching Somebody Feed Phil) and headed to Chori in Palmero. I ordered the classic choripán with chimichurri and a beer and it was delicious! 

That evening I had dinner at The Argentine Experience - a concept where fellow travellers come together to learn about Argentine culture through the best way possible - food! The group consisted mainly of Americans, and I found myself being the token Scot yet again. The couple sat next to me from Arizona were a good laugh, and it was a great experience overall. They had us making our own empanadas and brewing our own mate tea, which was fun. Not much is open on a Monday night here, so I head home and fall instantly asleep. 

Day 3: Buenos Aires 

I’ve a lot to cram into my last day in BA due to all the time wasted sorting out my lost luggage issues. I start with a typical Argentinian breakfast - medialuna (croissant) seeping with butter, and a really decent coffee at Atelier Fuerza. From there I walk to Recoleta cemetery which you could easily spend hours getting lost in. Despite having no map, I manage to stumble upon the tomb of Eva Perón. Job well done, I head to El Sanjuanino for a beef empanada and a beer. Apparently somewhat of an institution here, but I feel it’s one of those places that has become a tourist trap and relies on its name as opposed to its food. 

My food crawl continues with El Cuartito, famous for its pizza, in particular La Fugazzetta, which is literally a shit tonne of melted cheese and onions on a pizza base. There are not enough napkins in the world for the mess you will find yourself in after eating this slice. 

My self-guided walking tour of Buenos Aires continues with a flying visit to the Palacio Bartolo and the Obelisk, before a pit stop in Cafe Tortoni for a typical drink, Fernet and coke, which is a type of Italian liqueur. Not my favourite. 

That night I head to Estilo Campo restaurant in Puerto Madero for dinner. On approach, I see half a cow dangling above open flames and know I’m in for a treat. I’m glad I didn’t order starters as I’m presented with a 4 person portion of bread plus assorted snacks. I order the bife al chorizo (sirloin) and ask for it like I always do, jugoso. It arrives with lattice crisps, which quite frankly need to be packaged up and sold back home! The  meat itself is exceptional. Arguably the best I’ve had in my time here so far. It required very minimal chewing which, after walking 14 miles that day, was welcomed as I was exhausted. The whole meal, which included 2 glasses of wine, was £20! I had a few comments on the rareness of the beef. You’re all wrong. It’s perfect and it’s how it should be eaten (and that’s coming from an ex-vegetarian)!

My night concludes with a tango show at Piazzola Tango. I have a very romantic table for one right at the front of the stage (clearly they took pity on me). I spent a LOT of time deliberating which show to see before I came here, and I’m glad I went with this one, not that I have a base for comparison. The musicians and dancers were spectacular and from the moment it started until the moment it ended I was mesmerised. If I had more time I would’ve for sure taken a tango class here! I’ll have to settle for my my mum and dad showing me a few moves when I get home!

Overall, I probably didn’t experience Buenos Aires to its full potential, based on all of my troubles. On first impressions, it seems like your typical South American capital city. But I’m sure there’s far more to it, which I didn’t have time to discover. 

An interesting start to the holiday for sure. But I’ve now gone through the 5 stages of grief and have finally accepted my situation. Now it’s off to Mendoza to drink ALL the wine! 

Cartagena de Indias

Day 1:

After a 4 hour taxi ride from Tayrona, I arrive in Cartagena. It’s a beautiful city, with little streets lined with colourful colonial style buildings. My hotel room overlooks the Torre del Reloj, the main city gate of the historic centre. 

That afternoon I join a food tour run by a local chef. It’s 2.5 hours of non-stop eating, however 90% of the food we tried was deep friend and I felt pretty disgusting by the end! The last few stops I only managed a few bites before secretly binning the rest. I reckon most people in this country have heart problems. The best food that day was the first stop, which was a prawn cocktail. 

That evening, Ben messages and asks if I want to meet for a drink (the French guy I met in Medellin). I have no other plans, and he’s a nice enough guy, so I agree. We sample a few bars in the area, one of which was recommended to me by the food tour guide as a good place to dance salsa (La Caponera). Yet again I find that while the music is good, there are few people dancing. Seems like I should have gone to Cali!

In the last bar, The Rum Box, we bump into three American guys who were on the food tour with me earlier that day. They’re hammered after their rum tasting and invite us to go with them to a rooftop bar, Mirador, which I quickly realise is directly above my hotel room. Great. I have no choice but to get as drunk as possible so I’ll pass out and not be kept up by the noise. 

Day 2:

I joined a free tour of the old city in the morning in my attempt to learn a bit of history about Cartagena. It’s so friggin hot though it’s hard to concentrate on anything the tour guide says. He mentions that this weekend there are elections which means no alcohol can be sold or consumed in shops, restaurants or bars on Saturday and Sunday. Luckily I’m going home on Saturday, but there are going to be some very pissed off tourists! 

After the tour I stopped for lunch at La Mulata and had the fried fish and coconut rice with a limonada de coco (coconut lemonade), which is probably my favourite thing in Colombia. Even better when you add a shot of rum to it, but then I would say that. 

That evening I went to Alquimico cocktail bar for some pre dinner drinks. Hands down some of the best cocktails I’ve ever had in my life, which is high praise coming from someone who drinks for a living. I had 3 in the hour that I was there, each one better than the last. 

I head to the restaurant where I meet my two gay Croatian besties (sorry Greg, come back to me when you’re built like a brick shit house and we’ll talk). Colombia has been great in that way, as I’ve found myself meeting people in one city and we coincide in the next. Danka is a doctor specialising in gynaecology and currently lives in Miami. No wonder he’s gay looking at vaginas all day. Bernard is an international politics journalist. It’s clear the two of them aren’t strapped for cash!Dinner is at Celele, considered the best restaurant in Cartagena and in the top 50 in Latin America. The plates are really unusual but tasty. It’s about £55 a head for the courses and wine, so still incredibly cheap by our standards! 

After dinner, the guys are keen to check out the gay scene so we head to The City Club. Heads turn when we walk in, not for me obviously. Danka instantly whips his top off loving the attention. Bernard needs a bit more coaxing, but eventually takes his off too when I tell him I need to get a photo for my mum! 

The next morning I’m feeling quite rough so it’s a later start. I walk to the castle on the outskirts of town, built by the Spanish to protect the city from pirates and other enemies. Historical culture box ticked I head for lunch. The Croatians recommended a place called Mar Y Zielo which they said was the best meal they’ve had so far. I ordered the crab croquettes to start followed by slow cooked pork with a carrot purée and then the banana cake with mango sorbet and coconut foam. Amazing. 

The afternoon is spent exploring the Getsemani area of town. It used to be a really rough area but now it’s a popular area for tourists with lots of great bars and restaurants. It has a hippy vibe, the streets are lined with bunting, flags,  umbrellas and some awesome graffiti art. On my walk back through the park to my hotel, I spot the resident sloths. There are  8 in total, and one is nursing a tiny baby 😍. 

I’m not at all hungry, but it’s my last night and there’s one dish I’ve yet to try - the Posta Cartagenera - which I order at La Cocina de Pepina. It’s a beef dish with a sauce made from Coca Cola and Worcestershire sauce served with coconut rice. After dinner I swing by Cafe Havana, which is a salsa club with live music. It doesn’t get busy until much later, but I’m too tired to hang around for very long and it’s hard to dance in flip flops!

Final Day:

My flight isn’t until 7pm, so I booked a catamaran trip around the Rosarios islands just off the coast. The boat docked at two different locations for swimming/snorkelling. The sun is so strong, but you don’t feel it due to the breeze. As a result, I’m burnt to fuck on my last day. 

The best thing is that the no alcohol rule this weekend doesn’t apply at sea. Result. While having a swim I hear Scottish accents, the first I’ve heard since I’ve been in Colombia. There’s a guy and his wife who live in Edinburgh not far from me. Small world. 

Speaking of Edinburgh, it’s time to head home. It’s been an awesome couple of weeks and I’ve loved every minute spent in this country. Travelling is a privilege and I’m fortunate to add Colombia to the list of amazing places I’ve visited. Now, straight to the chippy when I get home for some deep fried goodness…not! 

Tayrona National Park

Day 1: 

After the most amazing avocado toast breakfast at Hija Mia, I head to the airport to catch my flight to the North coast. I arrive at my hotel, Senda Watapuy, at around 330. The hotel is beautiful and is brand new - it only just opened in December. 

It’s HOT but the sun still eludes me as it’s overcast. That doesn’t stop me from enjoying a few margaritas in my private plunge pool at the back of my cabin. Better still, everything can be ordered through an app so you don’t have to move. I give the barman a good little workout that afternoon.

Dinner in the hotel is incredible. It’s one chef cooking for all guests, and it’s an open kitchen so you can watch him at work. I ordered the beef carpaccio to start followed by robalo (snook fish) which was done in a pesto dressing and served with mustard mash and grilled vegetables. Hands down the tastiest meal I’ve had on my trip, and I’d be more than happy if you served it to me in a Michelin restaurant. I’ve not even finished my meal and I’m already thinking about what I’m going to order tomorrow night! 

Day 2: Tayrona National Park 

I wake up early to start my walk. The sun is finally shining and the sun cream gets its first outing. The park entrance is 10 minutes walk from my hotel and I arrive to chaos. As soon as you enter they rattle off lots of instructions to you in Spanish. If you don’t speak the language, you’re fucked. I have to help a few people who clearly don’t know where to go or what to do. 

In total I think I wait in line for about an hour to get through security and buy my ticket, after almost losing my shit at the cashier. There are 8 cash desks. I’m waiting in line and desk number 2 becomes available. I approach and I’m told desk number 1 and 2 are for Colombians only. Not that there’s a sign anywhere! I go back in line and I wait for desk 3, where I’m given a ticket stub and told to pay at cash desk number 2, where I just came from. After paying i’m directed BACK to desk number 3 to get my wrist band. Lord alive how fucking difficult do you want to make this process?! Welcome to South America.

It’s about a 2 hour walk from the entrance to San Cabo beach. On the way, I encounter numerous monkeys casually chilling in the trees. I’m scarred for life after being chased by a monkey in Bali, so I keep my distance. 

Tayrona park has quite a few beaches, most of which you can’t actually swim in due to the strong currents. San Cabo is the main beach where you are able to swim. The beach itself is nice, but nothing spectacular. I have a quick dip in the ocean and walk back to my hotel, which is a far nicer place to relax! At the hotel pool I start chatting to two english girls, Laura and Imogen, who are also holidaying here for 2 weeks. We bond over our shared love of the hotel’s margaritas which are delicious, and very strong. We end up having dinner together that night and agree to meet up again in Cartagena. 

Medellín

Day 1: El Poblado

I arrived at the airport to discover my flight had been delayed 4 hours. Very annoying as it meant that I didn’t make it to Medellín in time for the afternoon walking tour I had planned. It also meant killing a lot of time in a really shitty airport.

Due to the delay I didn’t get to my hotel until close to 5, so thought I might as well use the gym before dinner! The gym is attached to the dance studio so I was treated to a little salsa show while exercising which was nice, if not a little awkward! 

My hostel, Los Patios, is great. The staff are super friendly and the rooftop bar, where I have a pre dinner drink, has amazing views! As I’m sipping my margarita I’m approached by a guy who strikes up a conversation. He asks where I’m from and I ask the same question. He answers “America, do you know it?” Thinking he’s clearly joking I answer sarcastically “nope, never heard of it”. He responds saying it’s north of Colombia. Erm, of course I know where America is, it’s the 3rd largest country in the world you pleb! Luckily he doesn’t hang around long, but things go from bad to worse when I’m then approached by a Frenchman. Come on now, it wouldn’t be a blog of mine if I didn’t moan about the French now would it?! As far as French people go, Ben is actually rather nice and we chat away until my dinner reservation. 

Dinner is at Oci and it’s delicious. I order the codito de cerdo (pork knuckle) with potato puree. After dinner I head to a bar for a drink. I’m staying in El Poblado which is considered one of the safer areas of the city. That’s pretty evident as the place is crawling with expats and tourists. As a result, it doesn’t feel as authentic as the other places I’ve visited so far. I like it, but I also feel like I could be anywhere right now and it feels a bit like “the strip” you find in most party destinations. I sit outside and order a gin and tonic, which almost matches spain in terms of strength! 

I then head to Son Habana as my hostel told me this is the best place to dance salsa. I’m not convinced. The live music is good, but there’s few people dancing and there’s no mixing of partners. I guess the best places to dance are in the less touristy areas.

Day 2: Fruit tour & Comuna 13

The morning starts with a coffee and almond croissant at Pergamino, which is apparently a bit of an institution here. Good coffee, decent croissant. I’ve had better. 

The “I could be anywhere feeling” is certainly gone today. The morning is spent  doing an exotic fruit tour at a local market. In total we sampled 15 fruits (a fraction of the 400+ edible native species in Colombia). Most of the fruits I tried I’d never even heard of let alone tasted, but they were all incredible. As enjoyable as it was, I’m now slightly worried about shitting myself in the street later that day.

The tour group was small, which was nice. Three people from Seattle and two giant hunky Croatians, who were unfortunately gay. Story of my life. They ended up joining me on my next tour so I spent the rest of the day in a Croatian man sandwich. At least now I know where I’m going on my next holiday if that’s the calibre of men!

My Croatian bodyguards and I then joined a free tour of Comuna 13. This area used to be the most dangerous part of Medellin, but the area has been completely transformed and is now considered one of the safest. The tour was really interesting and the guide was very proud and passionate about her neighbourhood and how it’s changed over time. I can’t say I feel the same pride about Dundee! She tells us she has 20 siblings. Good lord it must be a right mess down there! 

That night I went to Carmen for dinner. I ordered the crab and prawn empanada starter and then fish with coconut risotto and curry sauce. Definitely the best food I’ve had in Colombia so far, and the most expensive. Saying that, I had a cocktail, two glasses of wine and two courses and it only cost me £30! 

Day 3: Guatapé

Today I did a full day tour to Guatape, which is a little town 2 hours by bus from Medellin. The first stop is La Piedra, which is a giant rock formation with 750 steps to the top. Good thing I love the stair master in the gym! Luckily we get up to the top and back down before the rain starts. I swear to god I’ve never seen so much rain as I have in the past week and I’m over it at this point! 

The rest of the tour suffers because of it. A boat trip around the reservoir in the pissing rain is hardly enjoyable, and our free time to enjoy the town of Guatape is mostly spent sheltering in a coffee shop. It goes from bad to worse on the journey home when shortly after setting off we hit a standstill. Turns out that due to all the rain, there’s been a landslide which is blocking the road. It takes an hour and a half to travel 5 miles. We arrive back to the city at 7pm, 3.5 hours later. 

I’m in the mood for a good hunk of meat. Since the Croatians are unavailable, I head to Bárbaro and order steak with corn purée before heading back to my hostel to pack my suitcase. Again. The worst part of travelling.

Not everything went to plan in Medellin, and I could’ve done with at least another day here. In hindsight I would’ve spent less time in Bogotá and more time here, but you live and learn. I’m excited to head north tomorrow, mostly because I know I’m finally going to get the sun I’ve been craving! At this rate I’m going to arrive home paler than when I left!

Salento

Day 1: Coffee Tour 

Swapping the city for the countryside, I arrive in Salento. It’s overcast and humid as hell. My hotel overlooks the valleys below and the views are pretty spectacular! Rain, hills, cows, I needn’t have left Scotland! 

I haven’t eaten yet so first stop is lunch at a place called Brunch where I eat a burrito the size of my head. I spend the next couple of hours wandering around the town and instantly fall in love with the place with its rows of colour houses, shops and restaurants. Salento is known for its coffee farms so it’s not surprising that the coffee here is gooood. 

After enjoying a deliciously strong coconut mojito at La Fonda de los Arrieros, I set off on a 5km walk to Osaco Coffee Farm for a coffee tour. The guide has us all in the bushes picking coffee beans. Workers earn less than 10 cents for every kilo picked. I think I’ll stick to banking! 

To get back to town I decide to ride a Willy. I’m saying nothing, my parents are reading this! Willies are jeeps that transport people around the town. They pack as many as physically possible into them, and that includes those hanging off the back. Health and safety is not really a concern in this country. 

 

For dinner I head to Rincón de Lucy. They offer a set menu with a choice of trout, pork or chicken which is served with soup, rice, lentils, beans, fried plantain and a jug of lemonade. It’s fairly bland but the whole thing costs 13,000 COP, which is about £2.50, so you can’t really complain. 

After dinner my plan is to have a drink or two then have an early night as I’ll be up early for my hike. I’m drawn to a mojito bar playing salsa music and as I walk past I hear screams and shouts of “come in”. So I do. As soon as I enter they ask where I’m from and I join the merry gang. This game continues throughout the evening until we’ve filled every table in the bar with Italians, Americans, Dutch, Germans, Polaks, Colombians. I spent most of the evening talking to a lovely Polish couple. We say “uno más” at least 5 times before calling it a night and agreeing to meet again the following night. 

Day 2: Valle del Cocora

I’m last to board the Willy in the morning which means I spend 25 minutes clinging onto the back for dear life and praying I don’t fall off at every turn. Part of the experience though I guess! 

The hike is a 6.4 mile loop of the valley. Rubber boots are essential due to the terrain. I figured that out the hard way when I lost a trainer to a giant pool of ankle deep mud. My foot slipped right out of the shoe, which was well and truly stuck. I finally managed to yank it out but fell backwards in the process ass first into the mud pit. And this barely 10 minutes into the hike. Fall number 1 of many that day! 

Not to worry though as those helpful Colombians have erected barbed wire banisters to give you something to cling onto. You effectively have two choices - you accept the fact that you’re going to fall face first into the mud or you grab onto the barbed wire to save yourself and slice your hands open. I did a bit of both throughout the day. 

The walk takes longer than expected due to the conditions, but the surroundings were beautiful. Much of the hike is in the jungle where you have to cross a series of wooden suspension bridges, each one more unstable than the last.  The final leg of the walk is where you find the Quindio wax palms which stretch up to 60 metres high. Disappointingly, visibility isn’t great when I arrive, but the cloud parts just enough for me to take some nice photos, not that they do the place any justice!

In the Willy back to town I get chatting to a  group of fellow travellers and we have lunch together at Donde Laurita. We order the bandeja paisa, a traditional Colombian dish of rice, beans, avocado, fried plantain, sausage, pork crackling and a fried egg. Suitably stuffed and knackered, I head back to my hotel and spend a good hour in the jacuzzi (after spending a good hour filling the damn thing). 

Day 3: Santa Rita Waterfall

I wake up to sunshine. Slightly annoying as it would have been a much better day for the hike and the views. But the weather here is so unpredictable it’s impossible to plan. 

As I hadn’t eaten dinner the night before, I start the day at Brunch with the biggest banana pancake I’ve ever seen in my life, which they’ve shaped into bear. It’s one of the most popular places in town and they’re famous for their massive portions. A good option for when you’re sick of rice, beans and plantain (which I am).

I set off on a hike to Cascada Santa Rita, a waterfall close to town. I chose to do the difficult route, a decision I’d live to regret later! It was a tough climb, and my legs were still sore from the walk yesterday. The ascent is never ending, and I don’t pass a single soul the whole way. Eventually, to my delight, the path starts to descend which is exactly when the thunderstorm starts. It’s torrential from this point onwards until I get back to my hotel…which is 4.5 miles away…

I have two choices to get back to town. I return via the same path I took this morning (which at this point is a river, not a path) or I stick to the road (with no pavements and crazy Colombian drivers). A toss up between certain death and a broken limb. I choose the later. The only thing getting me through at this point is the prospect of a beer in the hot tub!

I haven’t eaten lunch today so I’m starving! Dinner is at Cumana Bistro, a Venezuelan restaurant, where I order a chicken and avocado arepa and a salad before heading home for an early night. 

I’m sad to leave Salento and I could easily have spent longer here. It’s also been one of the easiest place to meet people, which has made for a really fun few days! Next stop, Medellin!

Bogotá

Bogotá

Day 1:

I arrived in Bogotá half cut (thanks to KLMs free bar) and bloody shattered (thanks to the annoying man in front with the loud video games). Being British, I chose to suffer in silence before finally asking him to turn the volume down, by which time I couldn’t get back to sleep. Being Scottish, I decided to spend the remaining 4 hours of the flight drinking gin and getting my moneys worth. 

After checking into my hotel in Chapinero, I hit the streets to check out some of the local sights. Most of the time all you can smell is deep fried buñuelos (cheese fritters) or empanadas, which I don’t have a problem with. What I do have a problem with now though is clogged arteries. 

Dinner is at Mini Mal, a local Colombian restaurant. I opted for plantain and crab balls cooked in coconut milk followed by pork ribs with a beer and tamarind sauce. It’s now 8pm and at this point I’m regretting my decision to book a bar tour on the first night because I haven’t slept in 24 hours and i’m dead. But I solider on like the alcoholic I am and power through until 2am.

I’m glad I did as it was great fun and I ended up meeting some really cool people from all over, including Texas, Denmark, India, Estonia, Guatemala, Puerto Rico, Ecuador and California, so a pretty diverse group. First was a beer stop where I found myself next to Kerly from Ecuador, Carol from Puerto Rico and Erick, a Guatemalan who lived in the states. Then it was a cocktail at El Mono Bandido. Any bar where there is a slide into a ball pit is a winner in my book. Finally we hit a club and danced until I physically couldn’t take any more. 

Day 2:

Sunday started with a coffee and a media luna (a mini croissant) at Bizcocheria Les Amis. From here the plan was to walk to a neighbourhood called Usaquen where there is a Sunday market. En route, I stumble upon a little park with an awesome band playing salsa music and a pen full of dogs for adoption. I would have happily spent the whole afternoon here! Resisting the temptation to adopt a puppy, I headed to the markets where I wander aimlessly through the stalls of overpriced tat before stopping for brunch. 

From there I took an Uber to Parque 93, another district. Uber is technically illegal in Colombia, although everyone uses them. But it does mean that you have to sit in the front seat and make awkward small talk with the driver. On this occasion it’s Jose, who thinks my name is Russian (lord knows why). I quickly tell him I want no association. He laughs and agrees not to throw me out of the car. The 15 minute ride costs me £1.50. It’s actually more expensive to buy a coffee here!

Speaking of coffee, I stop for my third of the day, and an empanada snack (rude not to) before heading back to my hotel for a much needed siesta! 

That evening I met up with Kerly and Erick for dinner and drinks at Cantina La 15, a Mexican restaurant with a live mariachi band. We were all still suffering from the night before so we called it a night pretty early. 

Day 3:

My last day in Bogotá got off to a bit of a disaster. It had rained quite heavily overnight and it was drizzly the whole day which made for very slippery pavements! En route to La Candelaria, the historic neighbourhood of Bogotá, I went arse over tit and spilt my coffee all over my top. Not only was this highly embarrassing, but I was too far from the hotel to go back and change so I spent the remainder of the day looking like a right tink! 

My plan for the morning was to climb Monserrate, a 10,000 feet mountain with views over the city. But I arrived to find most of the mountain cloaked in mist, which meant zero visibility, which was disappointing. Scrapping that plan I wander the streets, killing time before my afternoon food tour. I’m not a fan of the area and it’s not the quaint historic centre that I’m expecting. It also feels rather sketchy, there’s police on every corner. It’s not recommended to stay here at night and it’s easy to see why.

At 12 I feel it’s reasonable to start drinking, since I’m bored and it’s pissing with rain.  My food tour starts at 2 and I’m starving. It’s a free food tour, so at each location you pay for what you have and give a tip at the end. Makes sense in theory, but there were 20 of us so it meant for a lot of hanging around waiting on people paying! Not the best food tour I’ve experienced. I didn’t leave hungry though with stops including empanadas, arepas, grilled meats, obleas (sweet wafer sandwich), ajiaco (a chicken soup with potatoes and corn) and hot chocolate with cheese which is as weird as it sounds. You break off chunks of cheese and let it melt in your hot chocolate. I’m still not sure how I feel about it.

4 hours later (the tour is supposed to be 2.5) and I’m ready to lie down. My Uber home is a shed on wheels driven by a 12 year old boy who spends the entire journey texting. I’m surprised to make it home alive. 

Overall I enjoyed my time in Bogotá. Not the most aesthetically pleasing city and not somewhere I’d rush back. But I had some great experiences with some lovely people! Next stop, Salento.