It’s nearly impossible to fall asleep on this bus. The hazardously rough roads make my teeth chatter despite the 90 degree heat, and I jar awake every few minutes, catching air on the numerous speed bumps.
The driver goes around these tight corners at warp speed, and at any moment it feels like we will topple off the edge of the cliffs.
Even catching this bus was a chore. The driver and his minions rattled off in Spanish at us, not catching the blatant hints of our confused expressions that we had no idea what they were asking or saying. We nodded and smiled and threw some thumbs-ups in there, too, and eventually we were on our merry way.
All it took was two taxis, a plane, two boats and a nine hour bus, and we were in Medellin.
Aaaah… Medellin. We arrived in the evening, and saw the millions of twinkling city lights sprawled across the vast rolling hills and mountains. It was such a beautiful city, one I definitely want to revisit someday and totally worth the crazy traveling to get there. That’s one of the hardest parts about this whirlwind trip – I wish I could afford the time to spend longer in places like this. But at least I know I can come back (and maybe by then I will actually know a lick of Spanish) 🙂
After a couple of short nights there, we took a bus to Manizales in the coffee region of Colombia, built on similar mountainous terrain. There is so much to do and see, it kills me that we have to be back on a bus all day tomorrow to make our way to Ecuador.
As a side note: I don’t know why they bothered to put speed signs or paint lines on the road. It was quickly made apparent that there are no road rules here, only swarms of weaving cars and motorcycles.
Aaaaand a second side note: I’m probably the only person who goes to South America and comes back whiter than when I left…