At the end of last 2024, I was invited to a wedding in Brazil. Similar to my trips to Nepal, India and Vietnam, I took this as an opportunity to take some time off and go backpacking around South America.
I’d last visited South America for my round the world trip, so this was a great opportunity to see some of the things I’d missed that last time I was here. I started with a one way ticket to Recife, knowing the wedding and subsequent few days with friends would be taken care of, but the rest of my plan was open and made up as I went.
Day 0 (Wed Nov 27, 2024)
After signing off from work at 12, I finish the long tail of cleaning my apartment before leaving. Surfaces dusted and appliances unplugged, I set off, taking the U8 to Hermannstr. and waiting a while for the train to BER. Most security checks closed, but finally make my way through and sit down for a schnitzel im Brötchen, watching the sun set over the tarmac. Board quickly, and despite a few screaming kids to start, things quiet down in the air and I read Dune Messiah for a while before taking a rest. After the past few months of work taking a lot out of me, it feels good to have that weight lifted away for a while. A void, but a good one. Nature does abhor a vacuum. Land in darkness and step out into an only slightly warmer night, bus to the terminal then wander around, pecking at local pastries for a while before jumping to the more spartan international section. At the gate, several very haggard looking parents corral their crying toddlers. This might not be a quiet flight. In the plane, I end up sat right next to one of the kids, who screams intermittently. During the breaks in the crying, other toddlers take up the chorus. Despite the less that ideal setup, I read a while and watch Furiosa over food before drifting off above the Atlantic.
Day 1
Wake to an unimpressive breakfast and a plane of coughing and crying, before descending towards Recife. The towers stand out, different to Berlin. Swift passport control, a brief wander then step out onto the concourse as the sky dapples with the pink of an early sunrise. A short taxi ride later, I’m in front of the Park Hotel, where I take a short detour to see the Boa Viagem beach in the cool light of the morning. Check-in at the hotel with a language barrier, then merciful rest in the room. Shower then downstairs for an extensive and tasty breakfast in a crowded room. Back upstairs to reorganise then head out for a wander through nearby neighbourhoods, exploring cafes and whatever the Brazilian version of a Späti is. Eventually wend my way to a shopping center where a buy some Havaianas as “dress flip flops” for the wedding. Walk to the beach, grabbing a Coco Verde and reading in the shade a while as hawkers walk by. Back to the hotel and a after a short rest, another wander to pick up a hat then read at the beach with a beer, after briefly misunderstanding the rules of the Quiosque. Hat seller Mauro approaches and I buy a hat, followed by broken Portuñol conversation, selfies and apparently a burgeoning friendship. I watch his hats as he gets some beers and settles nearby. Soon after he chases pigeons, engages in intense debates with patches of sand and wanders into to the sea. I think he may be drunk or insane. Heartfelt goodbyes and a warning from Mauro to wear by bag on my front because of the mafioso, then I walk back. Someone offers me marijuana, cocaine and girls (unclear if they’re all in the same place) but I politely refuse before making it back and showering. Head upstairs for a drink and some light food on the windy rooftop as the sun sets, pulling darkness over the spires of Recife. Finally retire downstairs and sleep quickly takes me, only a little earlier than usual.
Day 2
Wake early, but rested and organise with friends on the phone before heading down for several rounds of breakfast and reading again. A short walk around the neighbourhood to pick up some small scissors before heading back to the hotel to await Yoce, who arrives with hugs. She drops some of her luggage in my room and we head out to walk along the beach. Grab a Coco Verde and catch up on the beach-front before heading back to the rooftop bar for a surprisingly large ceviche and caipirinha. Finally, Yoce checks in and we chill for a while before we head off to the shopping center and search for Yoce’s wedding shoes in the virtually indistinguishable shoe shops, eventually finding a pair before we get nice, pocketed swim shorts and call Bruna to arrange a meeting spot. An Uber ride later we pull into old town and sit at a vividly lit bar with a live band and a wobbly table. The Brus arrive shortly and we walk through the old town to 0 Marco, where the state was first landed at and sit down for Brazilian Apperitivo, cocktails and reminiscing. After paying, we walk back to the original bar and order a range of caipirinha and coxinha, while music plays, Santa walks by and dogs bark. Parting ways, Yoce and I taxi back to the hotel, arriving just after Jarko and Julio. 15 mins later, we’re at the rooftop bar again, introducing Jarko to caipirinha, discussing south American plans and catching up before turning in just after midnight. Sleep follows swiftly.
Day 3
Wake early, but refreshed. Quick shower and downstairs for breakfast with jetlagged Julio and Jarko, followed shortly by Yoce. After a few rounds, including grilled tapioca, we meet at the rooftop pool for a quick swim, a discussion of ghosts and aliens over beers. The others head out the market I visited a few days ago while I relax and pack. Checkout downstairs and sit, Julio next, followed by Jarko and Yoce, then we hop in a cab to Sítio Estrela do Mar - Praia dos Carneiros. Central Recife gives way to more ramshackle streets as we head south, eventually revealing lush, if a little dusty foliage. Industrial areas next, followed by low built favelas and rolling hills of sugar cane. After passing a funeral procession, avoiding potholes and passing a security checkpoint, we arrive and are directed to out cabin (Sardinha). Danny and Robert welcome us, share gifts, introduce us to the families and settle us down for lunch. After food, we unpack, change and head to the beach. Beautiful coastline and we all swim in the warm water before lounging and drinking beer. More of Danny’s family and a few dogs arrive over time as the sun sinks lower. A party blares music from a nearby island as Julio orders beer from a delivery service and we chat about relationships. I sit quietly and contemplate returning to Sound America for travel, despite the shorter timescale, before returning to our cabin and jumping in our pool. Beer arrives and our pool party becomes a beer and pool party, shortly augmented by coxinha. We discuss pruned skin (apparently it improves grip), the dangers of Bolivia and world travel. “Where haven’t you been, Steve?”. Danny joins our pool party and delivers bad news; the caterers truck has broken down on the way after hitting a pothole. “How can you can you make it from Germany and they can’t make it from Olinda?”. It later transpires that it broke down just 2km from us, so a small army of guests and Ubers are dispatched to collect the gear. We continue drinking and eating in the pool for a while before slowly slipping out, showering and making ourselves presentable. “You need to get ready soon” proclaims Danny as she slips into the pool. A round of caipirinhas before food is served, triple translated speeches are made and we head to the beach for the Luau. Starts slowly with a circle of chairs, music and dancing. Perro 1 and Perro 2 curl up at the edge of the circle, not enjoying the music, but not wanting to leave the humans. I take a break and wander down the dark shore, passing a couple walking their dog. In the distance I see lights of another gathering. I consider walking along to see what they’re up to. No, let them have their time and space. Dance more back at the circle, happy birthday at the turn of midnight and a short while later, Yoce and I retire and quickly fall asleep.
Day 4
Rise after relaxing in bed a while. Step out into the already bright 7am sun, seeing Julio returning from a morning walk and pointing out some small monkeys in a tree. See Brenna at the beach, then return for a quick shower and read in the hammock before breakfast featuring monkeys, eagerly photographed by the Germans and me. After regrouping, games commence, involving all manner of balloons, balls and hula hoops. Temperatures are punishing, so hoses are quickly used to cool everyone done. Julio and I retreat to a nearby pool, cooling ourselves and watching from a distance. As the games eventually conclude (team Pretzel won), we retire to our cabin. Sitting in the hammock for a moment, I reflect on how my mind has been so full that planning anything, vacation or otherwise and the gift of this time has allowed me to think about the future. Sardhnia party ensues as 10+ people join our tiny pool, overflowing it. Beers, chanting, singing and photos continue until lunch is served. Rice, feijoada and farofa with fresh fruit juice. The party dissipates ahead of the circle dance and we variously clean, prepare and dress before heading to a circular dance with a lot of umbrellas. Another smaller Sardinha party ensues before we filter off to prepare for the main event, followed by us realising we don’t know where the main event is. A chat with Robert confirms the ceremony is at the lunch place, so we join and are served an endless stream of coxinha adjacent foods and soft drinks. Throwing of rice, food and an open bar lead to a dispersal as Julio relaxes in the hammock and I relax at the beach with a vodka [energy drink]. Long chats as we all gradually get wedding drunk and finally retire to the cabin, where a warning sign has been put next to the pool. Sleep comes swiftly.
Day 5
Wake tired, but eventually pull myself from bed and jump into pool with Julio and Yoce. Refreshing. Pool, shower and chill before the very late breakfast of various pastries and quiches is served, alongside a much needed coffee. Not enough seating, so I return to the cabin to relax and pack. The others walk to the church along the beach while I nap in a hammock, moving to Roberts cabin when the cleaner comes. Goodbyes and photos with Danny’s family and friends, then chatting, goodbyes to Robert’s family before we load our stuff into the car and head off into the dust. Potholes pepper the road as we drive south and even Bruno’s slow, careful driving involves some bumps. Mostly low buildings and foliage, but we also pass a few fires. The roads improve as we cross state lines and soon we pull into our hotel, a small, eclectic place with a pool and several hammocks. Drop bags alongside Jarko and Yoce, and head down to find food. We walk out to the beach and up towards the “center of town” and Russo, a restaurant recommended by Bruna. Pick filet mignon ao cavaliero, hoping to get something analogous to Churrillana, but get something Biffe a la Pobre adjacent instead. Nice though. Bistromathics follows and we eventually leave to walk back along the dark beach. Orion hangs sideways in the sky and we discuss astronomy, interspersed with Jarko investigating crabs. Finally we make it back, I shower and turn in early to catch up on sleep.
Day 6
Wake early, but refreshed after a long sleep. Search for flights and Yoce manages to book a ticket but me and Jarko struggle due to lacking a CPDF number and eventually we give up and head down to breakfast, joined by Bruno. A quick pack and we head to the beach where we are picked up by a boat and head to the rocks. Swim among the fishes though silty water and leaking goggles, eventually leaving for a floating bar and have caipirinha and grilled food on sticks. Catfish circle us and we feed them our shrimp tails. We get one last round of drinks for the boat and pay, the money swimmer saying I look like a cowboy or Jesus. Get dropped off back at the beach and we walk back to the hotel and jump in the pool. Manage to book a Rio flight with LATAM Deutschland. I grab a coffee and meet the owner of the hotel, who it turns out is a Chilean architect who escaped the dictatorship and lived 16 years in Germany. We chat around the pool about Chile, Germany, Brazil, travel and techno. After an extended period of lounging, we set off for dinner and after a 30 minute beach walk we sit down at a beach side bar for excellent local food (carne do sol, fish, manioc puree) and interesting drinks (caipiroska with pepper, tea, ginger and more). Long walk back and early sleep.
Day 7
Wake early, but again rested. Downstairs for breakfast with Bruna. After she heads off to prepare for her interview, Yoce joins and we chat about her family while the pool is cleaned. When the cleaning is complete, I jump in for a brief, cool swim, followed by a shower, then downstairs to chill and plan travel. Eventually book a flight to Lima and idly read and scroll until we checkout at 12. Another round of lounging until the buggies arrive at 14:00 and we board (slightly delayed because Yoce’s sunscreen exploded in her bag). Sat on the back seat, we ride to the top of a hill to explore an old fort used to spot incoming ships, now a ruin with graves. Another, faster ride to a photo spot with the buggy. Waiting, swimming, coconut water and teaching a Brazilian German and Welsh before we drive off, faster again to a series of beaches where we sit in a half submerged hammock. Drive to the top of the hill with the radio tower, discovering a hotel and a beautiful view of the sunset over the soon to be airport. Photos and chatting about history before descending back to Agua y Fuego for a quick wash and setting off. We stop at a service station for a light, greasy meal just as my blood sugar dips into the red, picking up a few cans of beer before setting off again into the darkness. A brief ferry crossing and we find ourselves in a more upmarket neighbourhood and pull into our new accommodations, unpacking in a sizeable cabin, showering and turning in.
Day 8
Wake up to rain and slowly rise for breakfast where I am amazed at the sheer variety of cheese+ham+bread combinations. Bruna joins as the rain gets heavy, splashing the decking. After breakfast, a brief chill then walk to the beach. The tide is so far out that I settle for a few lengths in the pool before chatting with Bru on the edge of the beach. Back to the cabin for a shower and a read. I relocate to the deck and read looking out over the beach. Again, with space to breathe, my mind turns to the future and plans for a calmer year to follow. Bliss. Pack up some beer in a cooler then we get picked up by another buggy. A short ride to a holy fountain where leprosy was apparently cured, followed by a mirador and a longer ride to a beach where our driver admits one person has fallen off the back of his buggy. I admire his honesty. A brief swim and a cashew caipirinha (an acquired taste) before heading off. At the second beach, we pose on a palm tree trunk. I pose in what Bruno calls a “coloniser pose”. “You like like you’re about to exchange gold for mirrors”. Another drive to a river to look for manatees as the sun sets, then to a beach for the final sunset, photos and videos from our eager driver/videographer. On the way back, Jarko, Yoce and I are dropped off at the artisanal market as the Brus go back to drop their stuff and pick up the car. I buy a nice shirt, a beer and reflect I get better at Spanish while drunk. While the others shop, I play with the cats. Friendly Formasa and Jako who’s tongue hangs out. Onto very nice restaurant then a Brazilian pizza place for extensive discussions of Brazilian pizza and Italy’s violent objections. Long drive back home, then sleep.
Day 9
Wake in darkness and after slowly rousing, I sit outside and play with the cat for a while. Quick shower, then breakfast, joined by Bruna. Pack and sit at the deck to await the boat, which is arriving earlier than planned due to the tides. Set off in a small boat and wind our way through shallow reefs and rocks before stopping alongside a few other boats jump in the water and are rapidly surrounded by way more fish than last time, clearer water and better goggles. After a lot of fish interactions, we move on to a deeper area where we dive into the water from the roof of the boat and I cut my leg on the climb up as the ladder falls off. Back at the resort, we quickly shower, load the car and set off north. Back across the ferry, busier this time compared to our late night trip. Stop at a mirador where a restaurant has apparently fallen off the cliff. Brief nick-nack shopping before continuing north. After crossing the border to Pernambuco, the potholes return and we shortly stop off in Rei do Coxinha for coxinha (of course). Driving on, the sky darkens with rain clouds and as the sun sinks lower. Splattering of rain, then expansive brushfires before joining a toll road for an authentic auto bahn experience with glittering refineries in the distance. After the speed we fall into a traffic jam, but eventually make it to a meat place. Bruno shares advanced buffet tips as a veritable conveyor of meat arrives at our tables. We discuss the correct strategy for getting the most out of the meat place and eventually make it back to the hotel and sleep.
Day 10
Wake easily and slowly head down to breakfast. Full from last night’s meat adventure, but eat a solid plate or two. Plan with the others to split up for morning, Jarko for teeth cleaning, Yoce to the shopping center, me to dick around in Miraflores and get a bum bag so I can take some Berlin vibes to pre-carnival. I accomplish my errand quickly, so spend a chunk of the morning reading and booking a hostel in Lima. Sudden flashbacks of hostel comparisons from my last SA trip. We are so back. Yoce returns with gifts, packs her suitcase to the brim and we hop in a car to Bruna’s parents place. Explore her 3 floor house and see the cemetery it overlooks. “The neighbours are quiet”. Play with her cat, Mel and reunite with Bruna’s mother over home cooked food before departing for old town. Meet Jarko and wander through old town, admiring Portuguese architecture, colourful murals and a chip stand with the label “Jesus is my aim”. We stop in a small museum for some coffee and food, following a brief explore of the museum itself, where I understand none of the text. Interesting art pieces though. Hop in a cab to the top of Olinda, where we observe the sun setting, deep orange, over the Recife skyline, then explore a market and grab some drinks as darkness descends and lights wink on. Apply some gambiarra (Brazilian смекалка) to tie a charger to a wall with a shoelace, allowing Yoce to charge her phone. We descend though an apparently questionable area, but the vibes are fine and we make it to the main bar area. Walk a bit further to check out some buildings, stopping off at a Brazilian Späti/conveniencia for mouth tingling Cachaca de Jambu. Hopping around a few packed bars, drink an akazu then sit down for food and drinks at a bar with lively music. Geraldo arrives, to much rejoicing. More drinks, then Brizadreo, leading to mistakes being made. Chat with Paulo Axé in several languages, drinks, goodbyes and an Uber before collapsing quickly.
Day 11
Wake tired, the brizzadero having given me a deep sleep. Short breakfast, joined by Yoce after her morning swim, then final pack, checkout and Uber ride to the airport. As Yoce checks her baggage, I am reminded that airports are thick places. Bye Recife. Bye Pernambuco. See you at heat death. Brief stop at Fortaleza then onto Rio. Read for the first half of the flight and sleep for the other. On the ground, we eventually find the Uber pickup spot and a very talkative taxi driver sharing his love/hate relationship with Rio. “I have learned to live here”. Dropped off a Bob’s apartment. We unpack and head off to pick up Jarko and buy way too much food for a light dinner at a small restaurant at a noisy intersection. After taking a chunk out of the food, we head to Cachaca House to meet Danny and family, stealing a spare seat and sampling of Cachaca while catching up. Further though Lapa, stopping for caipirinha at a market stall, then onto the stairs, the first place I recognise fully, as nostalgia floods through me. Find a cymru tile at the stairs, then back through the market and briefly queue at the entrance to the next stop, before parting ways and sitting down at a nearby bar to await Bob, who arrives to much rejoicing. After a few drinks, we head back to Bob’s place and split a pineapple before heading off to Kza De Sal, entering with minimum fuss. Solid Berlin vibes inside, with smoke thick in the air and techno from a Berlin artist “Fandango”. Drinks, dancing and chatting, ultimately culminating in Bob and I collapsing and commenting on how utterly spent we are.
Day 12
Wake tired and hungover, but eventually rise as Bob makes coffee and a breakfast of fruit. Lifesaver. Jarko arrives and we all sign up for the bicycle app, except Jarko, who suffers multiple technical hitches, eventually defaulting to the more expensive Uber app. We set out to get bikes and all but Jarko succeed, so we walk to the next pickup spot, where Jarko discovers he needs his passport to authorise bike rental, so he cycles into oncoming traffic to pick up his passport. Finally, we all have bikes and set off, first through the CBD, then following the coast via closed roads and I recognise familiar buildings, sights and vibes. Rounding the corner from Flamenco to Botafogo brings another wave of nostalgia, as I spot my old hostel street and a familiar church. The Redentor emerges through the clouds, looming over us. The cycle continues in a pleasant fugue of nostalgia, culminating at the base of Pāo De Açúcar. Jarko’s camera app stops working followed by his google pay, leading us to the unavoidable conclusion that he has been cursed. Bob puts us on the waiting list for a restaurant and we explore Praia Vermelha, the market stalls and walk along a path alongside the sugar loaf looking for snakes and climbers while our position in the list slowly ticks down. After a long wait, we enter Terra Brasilia for an excellent meal of tapioca, pork belly and prawns in cheese and a pumpkin. Worth the wait. Taxi back, quick showers and change then off again to the favela rehearsal. Cheering fans and Botafogo flags crowd the streets, celebrating the win from moments ago. A flash of joy. As we near the favela, we follow a horse for a while on the road. At Ramos, the rehearsal has already started, so we run down the parade to meet Rafael, who is packing up his drone and we watch the parade pass by. Vibrant, evocative performances with colourful costumes and instruments I don’t recognise pass by and we cheer and dance to the music. Emotional. As the cleanup begins and a fire truck passes us, we hop in a car to Vila Isabel, where the school is still getting prepared so we sit down for mate and beers at a bar, before observing a second, distinctly colourful and horror themed parade. Fireworks, then we split into taxis and head back. In Lapa, we sit at a bar for a saideira where a guy approaches us brandishing a knife and cheese to sell by the slice. I feel like he’d make more money with just the knife. Jarko overthinks women and we drink for a while before turning in.
Day 13 (Mon, Dec 9th)
Wake from a dream in which Keanu Reeves shot crayons out of a shotgun to get his train to arrive in Rome on time. Seems I have some anxieties about catching Wednesday’s plane on time. Shower, put clothes in the wash, then head out for a breakfast of coffee, mango juice and Salgado frango. Meet Jarko, who heads off to get a haircut while Yoce and I buy water from a bustling but air-conditioned supermercado. Drop stuff back at Bob’s, then grab a taxi to the Redentor train station at the base of Corcovado. Tickets, then onto the cog train, watching the trees roll by until clouds envelop us and we pull into the final stop. Quick walk up to the statue, catching glimpses of the city below through gaps in the cloud. A few minutes of photos and selfies before Cristo becomes increasingly shrouded in cloud and finally disappears. Walking back, rain starts from inside the clouds as we return to the train via the gift shop. After descending, hop in a taxi to Copacabana. Short walk along the waterfront, stopping at markets to look at shirts, then towards the beach to sit down for a platter of meat and beans and Caipirinha Gourmets. As a band starts playing with Jason Statham on the TV, we leave and walk along the beach. Moments after saying I really feel like some Churro Rechados, we come across a Churro Rechado stand, temporarily manning it as the guy struggles with card payments. Onto another bar where Jarko gets increasingly frustrated at his inability to book a flight and I grow increasingly entertained by news about Luigi Mangione. A few drinks later, we head back to find a tired Bob. Jarko suggests meeting later, but Yoce falls asleep moments after he leaves and the night ends.
Day 14
Wake sideways with Yoce and say goodbye to Bob before having a shower while Yoce snores. Later in the morning, we head out for breakfast at Bob’s recommended Big Ben for essentially the same breakfast as yesterday. Try to find some wine and Cachaca at the supermercado, but discover that they only accept cash, so we head back, eventually joined by Jarko, who recounts his unfortunate learnings about Brazilian hookers. Walk to the stairs where I pick up an acai and we climb up with many photo stops. Beyond a trio of tiled mona lisas, we continue the sweaty climb up to Parque Gloria Maria. Explore the gallery, have an excellent Maracuja Caipirinha then climb to the top of the ruined tower for excellent panoramic views of Rio, observing planes circling distressingly low around Sugar loaf and descending into the nearby airport. We walk down into Largo dos Guimarães stopping for a single beer at a picturesque bar, then stopping at an artisans shop where I buy an amethyst necklace. Sit down at a restaurant near the tram stop where we are fed tapioca cubes by the waiter. Attempting to board the tram, we discover tickets are needed and only sold at the bottom, leading us to take the next bus instead. I hand the driver a R$50 and we speed downhill, almost thrown from our streets by the sharp turns. As we careen down the hill, the driver sorts my change and hands it back to me with a grin. Excellent service. Taxi down to Shopping Praia Botafogo where everyone buys Havaianas, Yoce does a lot of gift shopping and I help Jarko buy a new bag. After finding Yoce, I run up to the top floor to snap a picture of the sugar loaf, mirroring the one I took 9 years ago, but in darkness. The delayed storm starts as we leave the shopping center, rain and wind blustering, just like last time I was in Botafogo. In the car, I see the silhouette of sugar loaf, lit only at the top. I reflect that this exit from Rio is similar to my last, in the dark, an end of a journey, but the start of another. Back at Bob’s, Jarko gets dressed and prepares heavily to head out and we order Brazilian Chinese, alongside wine and weed. Our plans to play Catan are quickly abandoned as we discuss the vibe of Rio, the hardness of the water compared to Berlin and Brazilian funk. After we enjoy a very Brazilian take on chinese food, we call the Brus and Geraldo. As the night winds down, Yoce packs her bag as I try to sleep and eventually succeed.
Day 15
Wake roughly on time and quietly pack in the living room before slipping out just before 5. Picked up by a cab, tinted windows in, tinted windows out. Watch early morning Rio roll by, growing noticeably brighter as we near the airport, even through the tint. Last look at the brutalist GIG before heading inside for a lightning fast security check and a queue to an equally fast border control. Coffee by the gate to spend my last few reals, then onto a window seat looking out at a wet, grey morning. Favelas and the bay fill my view as we climb, another goodbye to Rio, maybe another hello soon. Around 10am, I see the rainforest below, an endless sea of green that only gives way to strips of farmland 45 minutes later. An hour and a half from landing, familiar valleys and foothills criss-cross the landscape below, sun bleached yellow, stark from Brazil’s vivid palette. Lake Titicaca follows, it’s scale as obvious from above as it wasn’t from the ground. Glints from the ground as the landscape changes again, eventually vast valleys near the coast until we turn and descend into a dusty Lima. Clapping after landing. Fast border control (no stamp) and outside of the low, shiny and angular airport. Almost Vegas esque. Peru is shinier than I remember it. In a taxi, quickly return to a more familiar Peru of hectic traffic, then along a coastal road with the Pacific crashing on the right and tall, smooth cliffs on the left. Climbing up into Miraflores presents a Peru I am very unfamiliar with modern tower blocks and almost US style streets. Check in to the healing dog hostel, where the dog (Rao) is most definitely not chill. Shower and head out. Walking through Miraflores, signs of Chinese investment abound, from the clean lines of the apartments to the Han text and banks. Walking along the main street evokes nothing of the Peru I experienced. Sit down at a restaurant and get some corn handed to me at least. That’s the stuff. Great plate of Arroz Lavoe then continue wandering around soulless Miraflores until I find a colourful local market just outside the district borders. Go figure. Walk back through Parque JFK, stopping off to stroke some very uninterested cats and buy a Churro. Better dulce de leche this time. More uninteresting buildings, punctuated by a few nice, if clearly commissioned murals. Drop by a polished shopping center with a fantastic sea view. We have loafers on the ground. First pisco sour in a polished bar, then back via a small Mercado. Meet German Selli back at the hostel who is just starting a multi month trip around Peru and Bolivia. Another girl settles in and I muse about backpacker chic. The baggy, pastel utilitarianism of backpacker clothing and the efficient convergence of all packing and gear to essentially the same model. Stark. Begin planning the route to Peru, with many options and challenges to consider while the hostel staff shout at the dog for barking at everyone. Chat with Australian Liam about his experiences in Ecuador and recommendations against going to Guayaquil.
Day 16
Wake easily and we’ll rested, heading down to an excellent breakfast of oatmeal with Liam, chatting about updating travel plans. After Liam leaves, Selli joins and we talk about her trip to Haurez. After a quick wash, join the walking tour with Liam and Russian (now American) Viktor. We walk to pick up South African Taylor, who’s studying medicine and this is only her 3rd international trip (!). Jose, the guide, takes us on a bus to Plaza San Martín and an introduction to Peruvian history. Walking through the historic center, we observe uniformly black signs and Viktor shares his pro LGBT rights and antivax perspectives. Truly, the median voter is a Russian immigrant. We visit an elaborate church where a sonic the hedgehog balloon is floating on the ceiling. “He’s technically a canonised saint”. At the main square, Jose explains the political situation in Peru and recent “attacks” on the female president. We witness the changing of the guard at the presidential palace to rousing music and I withdraw some money. Jose explains the (brief) period that the government put pisco in the water fountains for one day a year. “It was not a great idea”. Walk onto a library with a section dedicated to Mario Vargas Llosa, who had an affair with Enrique Egglasias’ wife, then out to a mirador looking up at Cerro San Cristobalbasna train rolls past on its way to the Andean mines. End the tour with a sampling of piscos, then lunch at a local place where we talk about travel and my food takes ages to arrive. Victor talks about his frustration with both Ukraine and Russia and we end talking about Ayahuasca dosing and experiences. Part ways and after an Inca Cola, I join the next tour to Barranco, a bus ride packed bus ride away. Join a Spanish speaking tour, which I mostly understand as military jets scream overhead, obscured by low cloud. Break off from the group to but some trinkets from a market, then head back to the hostel. In the courtyard, talk with Gerrmans from Bremen and Stuttgart (much teasing), Selli from Kessel and the mysterious Peruvian woman who tells us what her many talented children are studying. Applied physics, communication, journalism and com sci. A great mix of humanities and science. “I wanted a lawyer”. Talk about tours, birds, history as Gabriel from “South of München” arrives. “That’s just Austria?” “Well it is Vienna”. Recommendations for bars and restaurants. “It’s not cheap, it’s not expensive.” “That could be anything.” I finally get around to booking a flight, and after some payment hijinks, I manage to book a flight to Quito leaving tomorrow. Bus crossings another time. Chill and reorganise in the courtyard, say goodbyes to Liam, who also changed his travel plans to move his Inca Trail up and get more time in San Pedro, then a wash and sleep.
Day 17
Wake early after a deep sleep, shower and head down to breakfast. Chat with Viktor about diabetes and the US healthcare system. He thanks me for the conversation and leaves to prepare for a long bike ride. In the courtyard, I chat with Polish Damien who is smoking a hand rolled cigar about his experiences in the jungle with Ayahuasca. I rest briefly, then head out to a nearby coffee place to read. Not great vibes, so I move to another (coffeebrix) for an iced americano and lunch of club sandwich while two English business bros talk a table over. Back at the hostel, recharge, repack and finally check out and hop in a taxi. Lima rolls by under a grey sky. Met some great people, but nothing else about Lima spoke to me. A jumping off point for many others, it served it’s role, but now it’s time to go. Despite the logic, the grey sky weighs down on my soul. To be leaving Peru again after such a short stay puts my last trip in stark contrast. Oh, to fly again. A quick security screen and border at the airport, then a walk through the too-clean corridors to my gate. Read a while as the sun sets through a distant window, bathing us in orange. Boarding, then ascend into darkness and quickly finish When We Cease to Understand The World before napping for the rest of the flight. Wake to a cloudy descent and failed landing attempt, quickly ascending again. Second landing attempt works out, it a little rough and clapping follows. Quick border control, then hop in a taxi. Steep walls and darkness shroud almost everything. As we get closer to the hostel, I see empty streets and boarded up doors and windows. Turning the corner to the hostel however, reveals lights and people mingling outside. A curious oasis in the darkness. Check in at the colourful, multi level hostel, where a few people loudly prepare to join the “party bus”. Definitely a party hostel. Bump into the guy who was sat next to me on the plane, then head upstairs to the rooftop bar, where Quito glitters in the darkness and clouds. Sit down and chat with Australian Josh and his mum Anne, who are “zig-zagging between Ecuador and Chile”, English Charlie and her French friend Marie, who met on the mysterious party bus I’ve been hearing so much about. Chilean Yuri, who was a guide at Pucón and is heading to Canada is also chatting freely in a poncho. Discuss the usual travel plans, troubles with Spanish and useful recommendations. After the roof closes, we walk across the road to meet Austrian Fabian, who is excited to meet a German speaker. The bar is sadly closing and I retire back to bed as sleep rapidly takes me.
Day 18
Wake somehow rested but still tired. Quick wash and reorganise, then up to greet a cold grey Quito from the terrace. I’m going to need to convert these cutoffs to full length again. Have breakfast, first with a french group, then with Armenian Zara and American Travis. We talk about how cats don’t produce oxytocin and the fundamental forces. Nice chat. Zara leaves for the Galapagos and I head down to organise before heading downstairs to join the walking tour. After photos, we visit the unfinished basilica “of the end of the world” and have cuy X-rays explained to us. Down the street, we visit an excellent gallery with indigenous art and discuss shrunken heads. Upon leaving, we realise the floor is paved with vertebrae. Talk about one guys planned Antarctica trip, then head to Plaza Grande as rain begins. In Centro Cultural Metropolitano we talk about politics and power cuts, the a stop at a small local spot for empanadas and Hugo naranjilla. Emerge into the rain and walk a short distance to a chocolate tasting. Pure marketing, but tasty chocolate. Split with Travis and the others to explore to the market, where I pick up various trinkets to enhance next year’s club outfits. Walk back to the hostel via an ice cream place and enquire about the Amazon trip and Colombia border crossing before heading to the rooftop to plan. Quito is sunlit, with clouds cresting the hills, shortly changed by heavy rainfall that creates a racket and somehow makes it through the roofing. Rain waxes and wanes, switching the sky between diffuse mist and brief windows of clarity. I head downstairs to book the Amazon trip, then back to my room to share Patagonia hiking tips with my Irish roommate. Shower, then up to the terrace and meet Quebecois Gabrielle, returning from a 1 month ago school, where I reflect on how beautiful the Quito skyline looks at different times of the day. Gabrielle and I watch the Quito skyline as patches of the cityscape blink off, the rolling blackouts. We get our “family dinner” of carbonara, which Gabrielle appreciates greatly after a month of beans and rice. Alex from Napa Valley complements my beard. Fog descends on Quito, snuffing out all but the nearest lights and reducing the sky to an ethereal grey as sleep descends on me.
Day 19
Wake slowly and late, exhaustion catching up with me. Head up to a late breakfast with Gabrielle where we discuss plans and agree to call our families and brag about the excellent view. I spend a chunk of the morning planning onward travel to Medellín and beyond. After admin, I hop in a taxi to La Mariscal Artisan Market. Pick up some trinkets from a nice artisan then onto the district near Parque Carolina to walk. Children cover their ears as portable generators begin to roar and the blackout hits this district. Wander around a labyrinthine, crowded shopping center until I find a cheap but sturdy rain jacket, then a few tacos. Wander around the district a little more and take a taxi back to the hostel. Walk up the hill to a park with the Quito sign, then back down for a shower. Back on the rooftop, sit down to continue planning as the sky behind the Cerro burns with the golden fire of a sunset. A quick shower, then upstairs where I sit down with Gabrielle and we meet Jay from Colombia, who asks for and receives permission to smoke weed on the terrace. We discuss how Ecuador uses US dollars and how this compares to Colombia. After the night darkens and the temperature dips, I find a poncho and am reborn. “You’re born alone, you live alone, you are a particle” We move to a lower table and Jay talks about starting a farm “The cow is the dollar of animals”. Alexandra from Quebec joins us and we compare the phrase “All talk, no walk” in four languages (English, Spanish, French, German) and they all involve walking. Marco from Italy (but living in Mexico) joins us, along with Stan from the US. We drunkenly chat in a dark chillout space before splitting and sleeping.
Day 20 (Mon, Dec 16th)
Wake with a headache. New sensor, then head up to the terrace where Quito is as clear as it has ever been. Breakfast of a bacon sandwich, repack and checkout. Spend most of the day chatting with Yuri about architecture (he wants to build an Autodesk plugin), planning, chilling and reading. Overhear the usual conversations about travel experiences over dinner, then pay my tab and head downstairs to watch Lilo and Stitch in the chill out area. Chat with a greek guy about web development and find the secret garden hidden behind a door on the ground floor. Chat with the security guard and the greek guy for a bit before getting picked up for the Amazon trip. Finally back on a good (if small) South American bus. We are so back. The driver briefly explains the plan (coffee/bio break at 4am) and says that the bus will get very bumpy around 10am, but we shouldn’t worry. “Somos seuguros”. The bus launches bumpily away from the hostel. Soon we are in the cloud layer, street lights smudges in the dark and I slowly slip off to sleep.
Day 21
Briefly woken by a break at El Chaco at 3am, then drift back to sleep. Around 6, the pale morning light is enough to see low greenery and light buildings all around. My ears pop from the altitude change. We drop one person at Nueva Loja for Bamboo lodge, then most of the rest of the bus on the outskirts. Me and the remaining two continue east, driving into deeper forest and heavier rain. Stop at a mirador and get to know my bus mates, Diane from Quito and Calvin from Canada (but living in El Paso, to escape the cold). We chat about Ecuador and healthcare over a simple breakfast and much needed coffee. We have a quick wash and hang in the hammocks as rain grows heavier and visibility shrinks, eventually returning to the bus and making the short drive to Cuyabeno bridge, where we meet our 2 new members, Belgian couple Gigi and Philippe and our guide. Introductions, then load our gear and board the canoe. The jungle rushes past as we glide through the sediment filled water, a terrible and beautiful verdure. Life finds a way in almost every possible space, from mushrooms growing on barely exposed logs to all manner of plants clinging to dangling vines. Our guide has sharp eyes and points out stinky turkeys, maccaus and butterflies as the driver deftly navigates around submerged logs. We cautiously follow some pink dolphins as they surface for air and spot a white butterfly being orbited by yellow ones, a sort of atom in butterfly form. Woolly monkeys, howler monkeys and a sloth high in a tree make an appearance. Speeding on as the afternoon heats up, we make it to Tucan lodge where we have lunch and our guide recounts tales of the most injured guests he’s ever dealt with, including one rescue from the river at 2 am. Shower, recharge and meet Kiwis Max, Bo and Cooper in my room and head out to the boat at 5. After dropping someone at the private Tucan lodge and a few sloth stops, we make it to a huge lake. After circling the edges and a few hollow trees we watch the sun set, broad orange covering the horizon. A few of us swim in the center, the water is a beautiful but the bottom is brutally cold. Back aboard, our new guide Carlos/Jayii shows us pictures of him and various deadly animals, including an 8m Anaconda “that’s a normal sized one” “You lose the right to be called normal at 8m”. Voices from other boats carry across the lake and we discuss the various translations of eeny meeny miny mo. After the sun sets and a few more stories of anaconda wrestling, we coast ashore and disembark to find an unmoving baby caiman. “He’s hungry”. We head inland by torchlight. “Don’t touch anything, there are lots of spiders”. Shortly afterwards, we find a banana spider (deadliest in the region) that moves eerily and an armoured Scorpion Spider (not as deadly, but hurts more) that Gigi kicks by accident. After several more encounters with deadly animals, Carlos notes that he saw a massive banana spider here a few days back, but now he can’t find it. Not as reassuring as you might thing mate. “If you want to die, touch everything”. Eventually, we make it back to the boat and depart. Carlos’ flashlight scans the surroundings erratically, illuminating the jungle in greyscale. He spots a tiny snake from a distance and coaxes him out with a stick and whispers of “here here little baby”. I think Carlos may have a death wish. We spot a black, 4m caiman and circle around to find him gone. Another case of a missing monster being less reassuring than seeing one. Finally, we make it back and de-boat before heading to dinner of soup, egg, rice and starfruit. After dinner, we have shots, including one from a skull shaped glass filled with larvae, spiders and snakes. Perfectly fine shot, but I thought we were done with those for today. After dinner chat about American college football, then another shower and sleep.
Day 22
During the night, the jungle hums with life. Hoots, chirps and howls call to each other. Noisy, but serene.
I wake, apply bug spray and observe the river with Bo, then sit on the netting. Despite the deadly spiders and 8m long snakes, I could see how someone would die for this. Read a while on the netting, then breakfast of pancakes, muesli and fruit while we talk about medical training and Belgian taxes. Quick repack, then boot up and hop on the boat for a short wildlife tour (woolly monkeys) then disembark for a walk through a family’s farm (cocoa and plantain). We continue along a path, stopping to eat some white cocoa and observe centipedes and camouflaged bugs before finally making it to Carlos’ community. Widely spread buildings and we stop to play with their pet capybara, who is currently in a pen to protect it from the jaguar. We meet the shaman, who shows us several medicines (whiskey, aromatics and ayahuasca) and have a few shots of whisky, thanking Pacha Mama with the dregs. I wonder how much of this is just a twisted version of the pub crawl from last week. Shaman whacks a few of us with what turns out to be a very big, tropical stinging nettle. Pain at first, then relief as blood flows. Donations, then exit through the gift shop. A snack of plantain, manioc, papaya, banana and sugar cane, then out to pick yuca (pulling it from the ground like Excalibur, then peeling). Back at the hut, we shred the newly picked yuca. Drain it and grate it to make flour (leaving our hands soft), which finally is made into yuca bread, which we have with cocoa paste. Lunch of tilapia (shop bought, because fishing for tourists is illegal), vinaigrette and yuca bread, then vamos a la playa and boat home through the hot afternoon. Quick shower and read back at the lodge, then making fresh coffee and chocolate, involving a lot of sweaty roasting, crushing and grinding that soaks my just dried shirt. Tasty and satisfying ending though. 5 minutes later, we are in our sexiest bikinis and canoeing up the river. Max and my canoe is unbalanced and taking in water, so we disembark at an opportune shore and swap places, keeping pace after that. After landing at the lodge, Carlos backflips into the water, followed by Connor and Bo who find the water is much shallower than they expected. Redress and head out for our night hike amid chirruping crickets and a dying sun. “Once again, do not touch anything, or you will die”. Moments from the start of the walk, we come across a chameleonic lizard which quickly darkens as we approach. We spot several deadly spiders and bad bugs, including fully grown banana and scorpion spiders. Carlos turns off all the lights to let us experience true darkness and flashes of fireflies, then walks into the darkness with us in tow. The group separates almost immediately and we find a giant banana spider shortly afterwards. Dinner back at the lodge, then Carlos shares his stories of the most dangerous animals in the area, including the times he met an anaconda in the lake and the time he was bitten by a banana spider. This is supposed to be the “final night” speech, but now I’m acutely aware I have one more night ahead of me. Chat about the Belgian’s experience on a boat from Manaus to Belem, then sleep.
Day 23
Wake just in time for a fast but futile shower, then jump in the boats for an early morning nature watching trip. First birds, filling the air with their many calls, then a crowd of squirrel monkeys shaking the entire treeline in their search for food as mist clings to the surface of the river in the early morning sun. We come across a section of the river seemingly blocked by a fallen tree, but the driver decides to power through, covering us in leaves, but cutting our trip shorter. Back at the lodge, someone plays a haunting tune on panpipes in the distance as breakfast is prepared. After breakfast and goodbyes to the Kiwis and the couple, we find some scorpions in the life jackets, then head off into the forest. Carlos points out several medicinal herbs, Ayahuasca (Jahé), “the walking tree” tiny Amazonian coconuts and termites “my enemy”. I watch Carlos walk effortlessly through the jungle, carefully picking where to put his feet and in the blink of an eye, he grabs a vine and fashions a water bottle holder from it. We reach a giant tree with broad roots and alcoves which Carlos says is his favourite place in the forest, showing us how high the water can reach up the trunk (very). Later, after climbing on vines “my jungle gym” Carlos recounts his relationship woes with a German woman.
Circling back we pass through knee deep mud in an area that evokes an MGS3 level before arriving back where I shower, lay out my clothes to dry in the baking sun and lie down to read in a shaded hammock. Lunch with the Belgians and Carlos, discussing protection of the area over a dessert of babaco (papaya family fruit, very sweet and tasty) as the new guests arrive, 2 kiwis and 2 aussies who somehow didn’t kill each other on the boat. Usual round of introductions, then back to reading until one of the cooks perks up, hearing distant rain drumming up the river. I rush to recover my drying clothes just in time. Good ears as well as eyes. After some more reading under the shade, I join the boat slightly late and depart for the lagoon. After some wildlife stops, the engine floods and we are adrift for a while. Chat with the Tanzanian guys about hiking and kayaking in Patagonia. Several attempts and a lot of drifting later, the motor is in cleared and we speed off to the lagoon, sunset tinged rain clouds towering above us on the approach. The new guests jump in, backed by another fiery sunset, then we head off caiman hunting, catching a few glinting eyes and getting some close-ups before they slip below the surface. Second time round, I see method to Carlos’ systematic sweeps of the light, feeling for glinting eyes in the dark. Carlos hears rain, so we speed back to beat it, turning out caiman spotting trip into a breakneck slalom in the darkness while I teach Carlos the wonders of “genau”. Heavy rain starts shortly after we return. Dinner and chatting with the new folks about (of course) travel plans and the business of Trappist beers. Shower and then early sleep.
Day 24
Wake suddenly to the 5:45 alarm, then dress and head to the deck for an early morning nature watch. It rained heavily during the night, so Vincente spends a few minutes draining water from the boat before we head off into a grey morning. Spot a few small birds and a toucan before we head back, pursued by rain. Discuss languages over breakfast, repack, group photos and hop on the boat with the first guide (who is heading home for the weekend) to leave. Waving to the others as we pull away, I reflect on how much I’ve enjoyed this. Great people, beautiful nature and un verdor grande. I may return here. Chat briefly about how the guides navigate the waterways, then enjoy the forest rolling by, the trees crowding in for light and water. Two hours later, we are back at the bridge and a short bus ride later, back at the mirador, clearer this time, for a quick lunch overlooking the forest I just left. Bye for now. We drive through familiar farmland and small villages, Chizatre, Dureno and eventually Nueva Loja at 14:00 for a quick lunch stop and to pick up more passengers from the other lodges. Leaving the town, we climb upwards gradually for an hour, the road almost at an almost imperceptible angle as the trees thin and the houses grow more orderly until suddenly, hills reach up above and the road steepens our way into the Andes. Passing Lumbaqui, a forested plateau stretches out below us and still we climb. Finally, we crest and briefly see a deep, wooded valley below us before the clouds obscure our view as we descend into the clouded valley. Pass a few big red tankers marked ¡PELIGROSO! before we reach a rough section of entirely missing road and drive over rocks and gravel. Soon we are at the bottom of the valley, watching the sun sink lower through the cleft in the Andes, beautiful, but only visible through a foggy bus window for now. Pass a truck hanging precariously over a steep ledge, drivers scrambling around it, later followed by a blast of the horn and I get to look down a whole in the road, leading to a chasm that we avoid by centimetres. We switchback along a ridge, in front, soft, peach god rays from the setting sun splay out from behind the cordillera and to either side, deep valleys remind us of our precarity. Lower down, we stop for gas and food. No freshly baked food available, only dried - a German couple looks as disappointed as I feel. Before leaving, I chat with a British guy, comparing notes on jungle lodges and get tips for Medellín “there’s a surprising number of whores”. Surprisingly fast rest of the trip back to another type of jungle and a quick check in at the secret garden as the guy recognises me. Quick stop on the terrace where I meet the guy we smoked weed with a few days ago, then downstairs for a shower, which starts cold and ends blessedly warm. Sleep comes quickly.
Day 25
Woken by alarm in the darkness, disturbingly early, so rest a bit before getting dressed, washing and packing up. After a quick hunt for the security guard, I check out and head out into a cool, fog shrouded Quito and hop in a taxi. Passing low industrial building and a woman walking to work with cat ears. Jump out of the taxi at the terminal and revel in the familiar chaos of a south American bus terminal. Buy a ticket over a tinny intercom, eat a questionable empanada and a mediocre coffee, then cross to the area de embarque. A short wait and a little confusion later, I board the bus and we depart at 7:30. Shortly, we leave the low outlying industrial buildings of Quito and descend into a yellow valley, steep and dusty. The landscape turns green around 9 as we reach lower altitudes, descending towards a lake with Volcan Imbabura looming over us. Broad yellow valleys follow, then a climb up to San Gabriel and temperate, almost European greenery, rolling hills and fields. Around 12:30, under a patchy grey sky, we pull into the a dusty, low key Terminal Tulcan. Hop in a taxi to la frontera. Easy border control on the Ecuadorian side, then walk over the Rumichaca bridge, observing a deep gorge below. Equally easy Colombian immigration (spotting my first gringos of the day), then grab a taxi, where the driver asks about my travels and eagerly describes Medellín “muy Hermosa, muchas alcohol y cocaine y mujeres”. Enter Ipiales terminal, chaotic and loud, grabbing a mysterious spherical food that turns out to contain potato, rice and meat. I love spherical food. Mill around the terminal a while before heading to the platform, where buses arrive chaotically, and eventually mine (I think) arrives. An all too familiar tension rises as the scheduled arrival time passes which an absence of time boards does little to ease. Eventually board and after some brief confusion with seating, I re-board (where the Columbian woman next to me declares me her gringito) and we set off in to the grey and rain moments later. Tension releases and watch the world roll by in pleasant numbness. Monster Hunter starts playing in the bus as we descent into darkening, broad sided valleys. Read a while, nap, wake up for a food stop, then back to sleep.
Day 26
Sleep patchily, getting out for a brief stop at Pereira. Light napping as we drive through green valleys wreathed in white clouds, under a grey sky. After crossing a bridge at La Pintada, we begin a switchbacking up, first showing a grand view of the valley below, then passing through the cloud layer to see the Andes in the distance. Suddenly, a thunk, a crack and an explosion of foam as we’re glanced by an oncoming truck. We screech to a stop and disembark to see the wing mirror has been torn off and the front window cracked. Curiously, we have stopped right next to a shrine to Mary. Ave Maria, I guess. The police arrive, as does an enterprising salesman, from whom a I buy an ice-cream sandwich to eat while we wait. Soon, we head off again and thankfully, the remaining hour is uneventful. At Medellín terminal, grab a coffee then jump in a taxi to the hostel. Too early to check in, but head up to the rooftop for a much needed shower and a salad before checking in. Set up in my bunk for the next few days then head out for a walk around El Poblado to get a feel for the place, which turns out to be “bars and 90s music”. Cool. Empenada and head back up to the rooftop bar at the hostel to swim and have a few beers. As the sun sets, Medellín glitters. The same verticality of Quito, but at a larger scale. Rain starts, causing people to retreat inside, or leave for other places as a football game is starting on the TV. Back in my room, I briefly meet Brenda from Rio before heading back up to the bar to chill alongside screams of “Goooooooaaaaalll” from the game on the TV.
Day 27
Wake tired, despite a long sleep. Quick wash and rushed breakfast, then hop in a taxi to Plaza Botero. Pass through increasingly informal streets, including one apparently devoted entirely to motorcycles. Driver buys a hammer as we wait at some lights and throw it in his cup holder. Jump out and join the walking tour slightly late. First an introduction Bolero, his sculptures and his politics. I recognise his style from the bird in Singapore, very distinctive. Chat with a Colombian from Cali who describes Medellín as the Thailand of South America. Apt. We walk through markets and visit a cathedral before seeing the big bird again, including one that was destroyed in a bombing. Wrap up in Parque las Luces and split up for more wandering around chaotic markets, eventually stopping for some arroz paiza and arrandino limon. More chaotic wandering until eventually I end up in Palace of Culture Rafael Uribe Uribe, admiring the mannequins and art while winding my way up to the rooftop. Surprisingly calm watching the chaos from above. Not just the juxtaposition with the bustle below, but a true calm in this place, the cathedricalic aesthetic. Back outside, the vibe changes as the sun sets. Prostitutes everywhere. Not pushy though and I make it easily to the metro and take a train to El Poblado. Short walk back to the hostel, following the swarm of people. Drink with Brenda on the terrace for a bit as Medellín glitters in the background and lizards clamber around the glass. Shower then on to the terrace where I meet an English/American group. The English guys speak excellent German, causing my brain to stutter as I adapt to 3 languages at once. Accents are discussed and the American guy from LA (Lower Alabama) has his accent referred to as “Racist American”. “I know who your ancestors owned”. Dutch Hannah joins us and do a few before heading out to the bar next door. Discuss German vs Spanish with the bouncer, again acting as a translator, briefly short circuiting my brain as I’m the only Spanish speaker in the group. Discuss motorcycles before heading to another bar. A few shots of rum later and we’re dancing with Colombians. A few more drinks later, we’re barely standing and somehow make it back.
Day 28 (Christmas Eve)
Wake tired and hungover. Drag myself from bed, saying hi to Brenda on the way and head down for a slow breakfast. Head out to wander around El Poblado for a while, winding my way through buildings and streets. A group does a breakdancing segment at a cross walk. Very professional. Stop for a croissant at a cafe and enjoy the vibe for a bit before heading back. In the room, Brenda is chatting to someone on the next balcony and I head up for a swim. Later I head out to the brunch place across the road for a lite bite and a beer. Upmarket and interesting vibes. The American group the table across discusses how their friend was wiretapped as part of a narco sting operation. Rain starts pelting down in sheets so I head back to the terrace where the Christmas party is getting into swing and thunder cracks in the distance. Meet folks from Austria, Sweden, Spain, Palestine, the USA, Nigeria, the Dominican Republic, Austria (again) and Germany. Talk with American David about the (lack of) walkability in American cities. Have a drink with Lithuanian Lana, who it turns out travelled with Hannah from last night, so I hear the other side of her stories, including the fact she was very late to the tour this morning. Hang with Adam and Nick the English guys from last night outside then meet Hannah to find them and food and the others. Turns out Hannah has terrible internet and the others are hunting for Vegan tacos, so we have a drink in a nearby street, joined by Dominic and Kate, who Lana met in Silento. Chicken wings don’t arrive so we head back to the hostel and join up with the guys from last night and Keith, who I met earlier to head to a rooftop party at a other hostel. A short walk and many stairs later, we make it to the rooftop of Viaje where a marching band arrives shortly after us. Many drinks and a few bumps with an investment banker from Stuttgart and Lana and I sit in the jacuzzi for a while before we are eventually kicked off the rooftop. Vast crowd of hostel folks on the street, who we follow for a while until we line up for the organised bar crawl. A few more bumps in the line, the Hannah, Lana and I decide to look for somewhere local without all the tourists. Wandering around El Poblado and testing a few clubs (one has good music, but only 3 people) until we join a random club and end up dancing with Colombians and having a lot of rum. Merly is beautiful and 2 others are professors, so between Rum and grinding, we discuss Latin American literature, ending with hugs and compliments for their English. Hannah has gone missing, so Lana and I head back, stopping at a kiosk/bar where we have shots of rum with an old Irish guy who’s on his 3rd ex wife and has been living in Colombia for 4 years. After a guy dressed as a Navi checks in we wander back through dark streets. Cuddle up in the lobby for a while before heading upstairs.
Day 29 (Christmas Day)
Wake slowly and crawl my way up to the terrace to call family then downstairs to chat with Nick and grab breakfast. After a brief rest, upstairs again to swim and read as the day rolls on. The group arrives from tacos and I swim with Lana before we settle into an afternoon of drinking an hanging out. Jacuzzi in the sun with a British guy and a biotech Floridian “I have native American genes, so I don’t burn”. Lana brings hobnobs. Talk drugs and techno with the Dutch guy, then rain starts and quickly escalated until we huddle inside with “muy fuerte” Turkish Hazrets, who shares with us, joined by Lana with a plate of chicken tenders. We’re waiting for Hannah’s delivery for a while, but eventually get it. Muy, muy fuerte. Italian Daphni from near Milan joins us and we head out to Berlin bar, where the group splits. Hazrets, Hanna, Daphni and I go looking for a party, unsuccessfully trying a few clubs that are pretty dead before stopping in another small bar, for more bumps. Head back to Berlin bar with the others. More bumps, games of pool and hanging out. “Never mix your nuts, you’ll wake up feeling terrible”. A few of us hop in a taxi to Casa de la Luna, but it turns out to be dead and the taxi driver strongly warns against the neighbourhood, so we circle back to Berlin Bar, where drinks and bumps continue before wrapping up with a drawn out game of pool with Hannah, with little Dutch girl employing psychological warfare against me. Inexplicably, I win. Finally head back at 2am with Adam and Lana.
Day 30
Wake very tired to a rainy morning. Quick shower, then downstairs to meet Lana for breakfast. Rush out to meet the Guatape bus just in time. Lana and I curl up and sleep as the guide explains the tour and we pull out a cloud wreathed Medellín. Wake in Marinilla, “the Sparta of Colombia” for some very nice strawberries and cream. A short while later, we stop for hot chocolate and introductions, where we chat with Farooz and Niko from the US. Photos, then jump back in the bus to drive through Nueva Peñol and stop at a statue of an angel for Tomate de Arbol. On the bus again and onto the rock, where we are dropped at the bottom and I change some dollars to buy the ticket. The way us is easy enough, with many selfies along the way. Sweaty at the top, Lana gets angry at the gift shops at the top “stop looking at keychains, look at the view!”. Beautiful views, then chat with Farooz and Niko for a bit about why people aren’t swimming before heading down. The descent is much slower with many traffic jams and worse views, then we exit through the gift shop and make it back to the bus where I chat with Mario the Guide about recommendations in South America (Chile) and Europe (Italy). Short ride, then we hop on a boat as rain starts. We eat a mixed lunch out of banana leaves, while getting a bit wet. Upon returning from the bathroom, an improv runs up to me “de donde?” “irlanda” and proceeds to sing about Ireland to me. Intense. Muy fuerte. Enjoy the buzz, the music and the scenery. We alight in Guatape town and walk through it’s colourful streets, sidestepping a massive dog taking a shit in the middle of a picturesque calle. We have a curious orange tart for postres, then explore the shops a while with Lana. Discuss new year’s resolutions over coffee and some sort of pastry. Back on the bus, stop for an interesting snack of cheese filled with some sort of guava paste. Discuss bamboo, then back on the bus for the long ride back, illuminated by a beautiful sunset. Emerging from the long tunnel, we see a beautiful vista of Medellín glittering below us. Jump off at the park, after a quick stop on the way back, we have our respective showers. I hear little Dutch girl and Hazrets on the balcony across from me, so I call over. “This man is crazy” “Years of training”. John, the stem cell guy is from Hannah’s room and explains his business to us. A few drinks in Hannah’s room before we head up to the terrace where Lana joins. I bring my battery and cables to help others charge their phones, walking around like a mechanicus adept, wires everywhere. Hazrets’ intense Venezuelan friend Yolo turns up and complains about a new yorker for a while before splitting. We head out and following Hazrets, we make it to hooters but decide to leave immediately “well, it was still an experience” and head to a mediocre techno club. After one drink and a bump, we look for better techno, checking out the club we saw on Xmas eve, which has decent music, but only ~15 people. We move on, where Lana splits and Yolo returns to lead us to a better club. Walking through El Poblado, Yolo seems to know everyone and eventually leads us to a red club, but decides for a different one, so we double back, spending some time in a 3 story club with ok music. The next hours involve indecisively jumping between the 2 clubs before Hannah goes with the Argentinian we met and Hazrets, Yolo and I head to the street near Masaya, buy some beers and chat about how Yolo should be a model in Europe “I’ll be your manager” exclaims Hazrets. We all head back to Masaya to drink in the garden while Yolo waits for his washing. Have a great time and we say goodbye and I head upstairs to sleep deeply.
Day 31
Wake up extremely tired and immediately know I’m not going to be able to make the tour with Lana. After a very slow start and shower, I head down where I meet Lana just before she leaves and Hannah to catch up on what happened last night. A few coffees later, Hannah heads off to paraglide in the clouds and I have breakfast, pack, checkout and head to the terrace to chill. Hazrets says goodbye before jumping in a taxi and I get some much needed downtime. Hannah returns, jubilant from her paragliding and we look at the videos over beers. “You have very German pants”. We head next door for lunch (Cajuela Frijole for me, Fries for Hannah), then briefly chat with Yolo who passes by before Hannah checks in and jumps in a taxi to the airport. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do” “No promises”. Before leaving, Hannah leaves a few things with me and I have a pretty intense reading session on the terrace. So much for today being an off-day. John chats with me for a bit and I finally hop in a taxi to the airport as the sky darkens. Fairly easy security and border, then spend my remaining peso coins and do my best to read and relax while waiting for departure. I reflect on my time in Colombia, pretty intense, but lot of fun. Berlin will kill me eventually, but Medellín could kill me quickly. Nonetheless, I could see myself returning as part of a larger trip to Colombia, again to see the many things I missed. Hannah messages to relay a story about an incident at airport security. Plane delayed an hour, but eventually board, try to catch some sleep on the plane. Waking up, I see Mexico City below, visibly vast as it glitters to the horizon. Border control and a taxi later, and I’m asleep in the hostel.
Day 32
Wake tired, still recovering from the less than comfortable red eye. Water doesn’t work and the hostel seems fairly quiet, so I head out to search for coffee and food. Local shops fill the streets and I work my way towards the grand plaza, where a band is playing. Winding down a few nearby streets, I find a quiet breakfast where I have a la mexicana for breakfast. Continue walking through Centro Historico, astounded by the number of taco stands, winding my way through markets and what appears to be Chinatown until I stop for some excellent, cheap tacos and jump on a taxi to the national anthology museum. After long, but fast moving queues, I start with pre-history, covering evolution and the early migrations to the Americas. Excellent models, including an early burial of a guy who looks suspiciously like me. The next section covers Teotihuacán with beautiful, vibrant motifs and a recurring theme of cults, sacrifices and burials. After learning of the ignoble fall of the city, I finally see Mesoamerican Ball Game! To think, the Mesoamerican Ball Game Mets played with these artefacts. Finish the museum with explorations of different mexican cultures and colourful, contemporary artwork. I’ll need to spend more time in Mexico one day. Outside, I watch colourful dancers perform for tips before walk through Bosque de Chapultepec and a nearby neighbourhood and stop for a beer and taco as the sun sets. Taxi back, where el centro is bustling so I get dropped off a block away and walk the rest. Shower now that the water is working, quick recharge then crash with exhaustion.
Day 33
Wake slowly, not quite rested, but better than yesterday. Wash, prep, then jump in a cab to meet Niko. Coffee at Quentin, catching up on our lives and plans since uni while her dog, Madonna causes trouble. We get tips on how to get your dog certified as an emotional support animal from an Argentine woman before we head off to search constanza for tacos. We visit Medellín Mercado to buy mushrooms, but find it closed, so we stop at a taco stand where we get a freebie and the meat has a skull in it, so we sit down for more. Jump in a taxi to Templo Mayor Museum, where after some convincing that Madonna is a service dog, we make it inside. Fascinating to walk through the layers of the temple as it expanded. Inside, safe from the sun we explore a multi level museo, spotting many masks and pipes. Outside, we participate in a cleansing ritual, which after the wait is surprisingly refreshing, then we head off to get uncleansed at a bar. Mezcal shots and beers, while we discuss the complexities of living around celebrities in London. We head out to get multiple tacos from nearby stands, comparing and contrasting. Wander further, looking for a saideira and postres. Niko makes an impulse purchase of a green poncho and we sit down to get cheesecake and beers. “This cheesecake is incredible”. I run out to get some cash and finally we head off to my hostel. Niko jumps in an Uber and I head upstairs to talk with British Maisie and Fran on the rooftop about German summer habits before turning in.
Day 34
Wake hung over, but pull myself from bed and head downstairs to get some cash, a coffee from 7/11 and hop in a taxi. A brief hassle about effectivo o targeta, then we’re off, driving through bustling markets and onto a motorway, passing through burnt wasteland with mountains peeking through the smog in the distance. On the motorway, debris peppers the windshield. “What do you hear Starbuck?” “Nothing but the rain”. After confusion about the drop off point, I hop off at Puerta 1. Past Market stalls and potential guides, I visit the citadel, low and ruined but accessible, giving me (and all the other visitors) an opportunity to climb the original (?) steps. Bird calls from merchants spaced every few meters of street of the dead. The temple of the sun is majestic and vast, difficult to fully take in. Distinctly different to those in Giza due to its human scale. Finally, the moon temple offers a beautiful composition of smaller and larger pyramids and slightly smaller crowds. Exit through a crowded line of market stalls, then hop on a bus where I sleep most of the way to CDMX. Wake to see cable-cars above and Favelas blanketing the hills, then exit at the crowded terminal. After some difficulty with the card (I use someone else’s transport card), I hop on the bus to Centro. Wander through markets, stopping for some taco rolls and a milkshake and find a nice poncho in a narrow market near the hostel, then back for a shower. Upstairs, I join Welsh James and Austrian Markus and Andrea midway through 20 questions to figure out what James’s company makes. We figure out it is approximately 3 beer bottles high, mechanical, has buttons and is precision engineered. The beer bottle measurement is very Austrian. Beer bottle. Person. Mountain. The only scales that matter. After an inadvisable number of beers, we turn in.
Day 35 (New Year’s Eve)
Wake early, despite the beers. Wash and pack as quietly as I can, then head outside to buy some sandwiches from a street vendor and meet Niko as she jumps out of a taxi. We pick up snacks and coffee at 7-Eleven, then cash and hop in a taxi for the long ride. After a brief detour through a very sketchy neighbourhood, we’re passing through the suburbs and finally out into the basin, mountains rising on all sides. Corn fields follow, then we ascend, trees evoking west coast natural parks. Much winding later, we are dropped off at the entrance to the park. “Felix año Nuevo” “Happy Birthday!” I’ve made that mistake. At the entrance, we see a group and decide to tag along on their tour. Chat with the others in the group, including John (who looks like Jay Leno) from new York and his kids and an Asian kid from Silicon Valley. Madonna is overjoyed to be outside and runs back and forth with frantic energy. The trail is easy, despite the altitude, starting in a field and winding through a calm forest and across several streams. We stop for lunch at a waterfall where glacial run-off causes icicles to form around the stream. We see the volcano erupt in the distance, a thick column of smoke joining the clouds. On the way back, I chat with John about service culture in Berlin and the US and eastern German housing, wrapping up by talking about systemic racism. At the entrance, we hitch a ride with one of the minibuses and head down the mountain, stopping for tacos. A long drive home (this time taking toll roads and avoiding the sketchy neighbourhoods) and eventually get dropped in Contesa, where Niko walks back and I hop in a taxi home, seeing a huge Mexican flag waving in the distance. Make sure Niko is on the list, chat with Gilhermo in my room, shower to get some of the dust off me, then up to the terrace where I make several more unsuccessful attempts to guess what contraption James builds for work. Niko joins and we discuss how little it takes for the UK to go full wicker man and I try to convince Charlie from Melbourne to move to Berlin. We play a game of Presidents and assholes with an energetic Australian dealer, which Niko wins handily. There are many Eriks. “I’ve never been around 3 Eriks before!”. Suddenly remember I did a bunch of mushrooms and the colours make sense. Chat with English Trish, who just quit Netflix and is really into garage and discuss my chameleonic accent with a guy from Philadelphia. I buy new years beers for a feathery American, then we count down to New Year’s and everyone complains about the lack of fireworks. Language guy discusses Welsh idioms with and shares more, before a few hours more of dancing and finally heading back to bed.
Day 36 (New Year’s Day)
Wake confused, but come to my senses slowly. Shower, then head out for a slow wander around strangely deserted streets of Centro Historico, picking up a 7-Eleven coffee before sitting down for Chilaquiles and orange juice, which almost helps my hangover. Back at the hostel, I book lucha libre tickets and head up to the terrace to meet the others heading out to Lucha Libre. Talk to English animator Meg about work life balance, moving cities and taking acid on a boat in Colombia. I split the rest of my mushrooms with her. “Will it be safe to take these in to the stadium?” “Well on one hand, it’s chocolate, but on the other hand it has a sticker that says Los Magic Treats” “You could just take the sticker off”. Genius. Hop in a taxi with Louise, Lucy and Carl, jumping out at a bustling street. After spending some time in the wrong queue, we make it inside and I’m shown to my seat for a tip. With a giant michelada in hand, I watch little people wrestle. Sadly, Pepalito the demon is defeated by the heel. His time will come, I’m sure of it. Next match is Stuka jr, Angel de Oro, Philip Gordon and Atlantis. Initially, I root for Angel, swayed by his glittering sword, but he turns out to be the heel and is soundly defeated. Cheering and stamping of feet shakes the stadium. The main event includes Capitan Suicida, Mollito the midget and Mistico who I immediately side with. What is the green bird going to do? Oh, he kicked Mistico. Traitorous bird. After several attempts to tear of Misticos mask as the dastardly heels distract the ref, Mistico and Molito defeat the heels to raucous applause and stadium shaking stamping. Wrap up with a cage match and a ritual de-masking, but done with honour. Outside, we compare notes and head to Taqueria Orinoco for some excellent tacos. After, a few head home and the rest of us search Roma for a bar but find them all to be closed. Taxi back to the hostel, where we drink, talk and sing Karaoke. My song is of course Zombie, which I sing with 2 broken mics. After an excellent Titanic theme rendition, James wraps up with a powerful take on Bowie’s Let’s Dance and I turn in, tired, drunk and happy with my last night.
Day 37
Wake slowly to dreams of airports and realise this is the last day of my trip. Shit. Reflect on the return to Germany and while I like my life there, it’s very different from this one. I’ll miss all this. Slowly rise, shower, repack and checkout. Meet Niko and Madonna for a lunch of tacos and chicken wings, then wander around Centro picking up some money and gifts for Niko’s family before we part ways. Chill and recharge in the hostel for a bit. Say goodbye to Trish and the hostel dog before having a last look at the CDMX skyline and hopping in a taxi to the airport. The city rolls by and I reflect on the trip as a whole. This has been more of a whistle stop tour than my last journey through South America, with much less depth, but also more intense in some ways. More and harder parties, and some great people. It was fun, I missed a lot, but I’ll return again. Airport is big, security is fast and border control is done confusingly at the gate. After boarding, read a bit have a meal and fall into as content a sleep as reasonable for economy class. Landing in Madrid, a sense of normalcy grips me. Another European airport. Another connecting flight. After layers of security, seeing the sign for BER tightens the grip of normal. I’m going home. Low clouds obscure Berlin until the last moments and cold bites when I step into the night air. At home, ice crystals cling to the window as I step out to the familiar balcony. I’m home. Never did figure out what James’ contraption was.