After a night bus to Huanchaco we arrived spaced out and sleep deprived. So now starved and needing a coffee hit we headed off in search of somewhere to fit the bill. Some fruit and coffee later and we decided to head to Chan Chan an archeological sight near by. Safe to say it was not our cup of tea and without a guide to explain what we were looking at we ended up just discussing in depth what out next tattoos would be whilst wandering aimlessly and taking funny photos.
Which was not a good idea and just ended with us being escorted out.
That night we were surround by pissed up surfers and decided if you can’t beat em join em… this was a bad idea as hours later after rounds of blind Jenga we were loaded in to a taxi by a rather sensible 18 year old who wanted to make sure we got home ok. Despite this we only managed to stay in the taxi for a few seconds before we bundled out horrified by the price. And opted for a stagger home instead only stopping to devour burgers with the locals looking pretty classy with mayonnaise down our chins and Daisy’s bleeding knee. The next morning feeling like I had just been dragged out of a lamas arse and with a serious case of dry mouth I just about managed to drag myself out to the balcony. So I could die with a nice view at least.
That day was spent staring off at the walls of various cafes as we ate like bottomless pits, swearing we will never drink again.
Next stop Huaraz for some mountain treks!
Our flight back to the mainland was a turbulent death trap most of which was caused by our coffee shakes. The flight operated like a bus where once at Guayaquil we disembarked with only half the passengers as the others stayed aboard for the next stop Quito. We got straight on a night bus to Tumbes Peru and against all advice crossed South America’s most dangerous boarder at night. We hopped off the bus at immigration where there was a power cut and we stood in the dark the only light the bored staffs phones illuminating their faces as they scrolled social media, until the systems rebooted. Finally we were cleared and got back on our bus and drove through a refugee camp with Venezuelans sleeping rough and in tents. The boarders all over South America have seemed overwhelmed with refugees. We swapped busses in Tumbes and boarded the only bus leaving at this time of night. A bus run by some very obviously coked up men. At least 5 of them were wedged in the cockpit chain smoking and aggressively chewing on god knows what! So 2am tired and pissed off we arrive in Mancora with nowhere to stay.
Mancora is the Peruvian equivalent to Palomino (Colombia) but minus the power cuts. It has a laid back hippy vibe that bubbles over in to a party town at night. The beaches are long stretches with only a scattering of bodies.
There are plenty of food options and we have tried the £2 set menus all over town. Whole bbq fish, Chinese inspired Peruvian classics and ice cream coffees to die for.
We’ve spent our days lazing on the beach soaking up the sun or covering ourselves in mud at the mud baths trying to calm the sunburn. This being the only time it is acceptable to roll in the mud sober.
We have leisurely nibbled our way around town enjoying the slow paced lifestyle after our jam packed Ecuadorean escapades. In the evening we have enjoyed a few beers or pisco sours watching the town come to life, but quickly sneak off to bed before our minds become hazy. Being the good girls our friends back home didn’t think existed.
Throughout our stay I have been discussing ideas with a local tattooist and tonight before our night bus my ideas shall come alive.
So although the bus was still an hour late it almost felt early in comparison to the usual three hour late busses. We checked straight in to Casa De Nelly the prettiest hostel, where the owner was a cornucopia of information for our route to Ecuador, and the place instantly felt like home.
After a nice dinner in town, we set off on the walk uphill back to the hostel, only to have a pizza delivery guy who was conveniently driving there anyway offer us a lift. What luck! As I was drifting off that night I heard a kufufflae and muttering from Daisy’s direction. I looked over to see a very startled Daisy batting off a cricket that had landed on her face. The next morning, we left to get a bus to the local statues. But in luck again we ended up getting a lift on the back of a hostel workers bike whilst he set up some horses to meet us at the entrance. Where we galloped around the park with a tour guide explaining the history to us. All for the same price as the entry fee!
So another free ride to a local vegetarian restaurant Tomate and we enjoyed an amazing lunch, where we overfilled ourselves with unidentifiable great tasting veggies.
So now two very achey completely stuffed gringos walked back to the hostel where apparently our luck had ran out and we walked the whole way back arriving out of breath and sweaty. That evening we arranged a yoga class down the road where again we conveniently got a free ride. It was the kind of yoga my mums been trying to get me to go for years, all breathing and meditation. We had to avoid eye contact the whole time as a wave of the giggles threatened. This was especially difficult in the eye yoga! During one of the breathing exercises she asked if we had felt anything, I’m pretty sure a blocked nose was not the answer she was looking for (but the one I gave nonetheless). We left the yoga class confused at what had just happened and completely starved. We dined at Homosapians, another veggie place that served up some very quick tasty food.
Trying to get a taxi home in the downpour was a very serious task as we hovered in shop doorways trying desperately to flag down any vehicle in sight. The only one that stopped was an already full taxi. Despite this we loaded in with the complacent family, making 8 of us in there. We did manage to negotiate a discount based on the fact we didn’t even have one seat between us. We got back to the hostel soaked through and in a fit of giggles. And who do we see sat on the sofa… only our Aussie mate, I am now starting to believe he is a stalker. So a quick catch up and we all clamber in to bed trying to get some sleep but finding ourselves far too funny to stop firing comments across the room.
A boat and two busses later and we arrive in Popayan armed with some seriously toxic bed bug spray. We splashed out on a private room, locked ourselves in the bathroom with all our stuff and gassed ourselves out. Going a bit OTT with the bug spray looking and feeling like mad women when we finally tumble out with red eyes and serious headaches, hoping we had finally got on top of this infestation. Waking up with no new bites felt like winning an all out war! And although 100s of bites still remained scattered on my body I knew their days were numbered! We took our clothes to the laundrette changed rooms and strutted off to Silvia. A town so high in the mountains that Daisy shivered in her inappropriate attire. We bought some fruits for breakfast and scaled the nearest peak for our tradition of a viewpoint.
Everywhere In Colombia seems really easy to get too but is like a series of hunger games on the return journey. As everybody fights for a spot on the designated method of travel, on this occasion a bus. But feeling unbeatable after our victory with the bed bugs we decided against the scramble and strolled off in the general direction of Popayan. We successfully thumbed down a lift to the next town with a local and jumped on a conveniently waiting bus. Where we began attacking our bags of fruit, devouring tomorrow’s breakfast! Offering it to the locals and dropping it all over the place.
That night we ate at a place called Pita and as you’ve guessed it sold pittas.. with a variety of toppings. After a game of backgammon where me and Daisy realised we can’t play anything other than cards without bickering and Daisy wanting to quit because she’s loosing! So we left. I was definitely still hungry as I don’t believe hummus qualifies as a side so we shared some cake at the hostel whilst laughing at how pathetically competitive we are. (And for the record I won backgammon but maybe don’t tell Daisy I said that).
The next morning we grouped up with some people from the hostel and headed to the hot springs. Swerving the usual tour and catching a bus. The hot springs stank worse than my exes curry farts and at first I was hesitant to go in and cursed the children splashing in my general vicinity. But half an hour in and now immune to the smell we began rubbing smelly clay all over ourselves (doing as the locals do).
After a dirt cheep meal we went back to the hostel where we no joke tried a slice of every home made cake, rating them in order. My favourite being the chocolate, orange and zucchini followed closely by Daisy’s favourite Banana and cardamon and lastly the still amazing coffee and chocolate. Yum! That night we all went for Tapas at Restaurant Carmina. Where we drank wine, ate delicious food and drifted between intellectual debates and chatting shit. Until full and giddy we wondered home missing our turning for the second time since we’ve been here. The next morning we checked out only to later realise we had been undercharged. Alright for some!
So Cali is a big, busy city where the people seem less friendly and the constant heat leaves you feeling clammy from the minute you wake up! The first thing we did, after breakfast of course (our priorities always firmly on food) was head to the closest viewpoint. The city stretched for miles, ugly spewed-out buildings as far as the eye can see. Here we indulged in one of the local delicacies, something I can only describe as a Colombian slush puppy. Fruit flavoured ice and a mountain of fruit all rammed in a plastic cup that tasted even more amazing than it looked!
After walking around for hours we decided to cool off at the hostel, whilst intermittently muttering occasionally about the heat. Then we headed off in search of a local market offering some beautiful local seafood dishes. Now I usually pride myself on being a bit of a bottomless pit when it comes to food but this time I really over did it and had to undo my skirt and lean back in my chair sighing occasionally. I only moved at the mention of coffees, where we hobbled the 20 steps away and ordered caramel frappes!
It was here we made out first real Colombian friends where we laughed for hours discussing different sayings and slang words from the area. “El que no oye consejos no llege a viejo” (if you don’t listen to advice you won’t live a long life) which I think might have been a hint for us to listen to advice. My personal favourite and one I believe we have been living by even before we knew it is “donde fueres has lo que vieres” basically meaning “do as the locals do”.
With that being said we went for a beer with our Aussie friend that we have bumped in to literally everywhere since we met in Taganga!
And we attempted to dance salsa with the locals to the great amusement of those watching as we shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, red faced and sweaty but persistent in learning what looked like simple steps. After sweating out our body weight and noticing that the time had flown by we fled the ball like Cinderella, wanting an early night ready for Buenaventura tomorrow.
New year same hangovers! Me and Daisy showered, shaved and put some makeup on, we actually resembled the two girls that had left England 3 weeks ago! This is the first sign of the direction the night was going in, see for two girls who have given up caring about appearances and only shave when absolutely necessary when we actually look and feel like women again we want to share that. So now ready for a drink we got tipsy at the hostel bar trying our first shots of Aguadiente. Now sufficiently drunk and ready to take Medellin by storm we left our fellow hostelers and went to Happy Buddha to meet our Aussie mates. A few beers and some eagerly received free food later we decided to walk the half hour journey back to our hostel putting the world to rights the entire way. After a few more beers we were all drunk and aware that the countdown was fast approaching so headed out in a convoy of taxis to our next location. A hostel even more quiet and shit than ours had been. This is where the mischief really began as I decide to wingman Daisy with the help of my super unsubtle friend. Less than five minuets later they share a sneaky kiss and we celebrate our new careers as matchmakers with a high five. I instantly realised this plan had backfired when it dawned on me that I had now lost my wingman. But my matchmaking partner filled the position of partner in crime as we bonded over fellow pride and lots of booze. After a countdown that Daisy missed whilst peeing, followed by hugs with a bunch of practical strangers we ended up at Happy Buddha hostel once again. Where the floors were sticky, the bathroom cues long and the residents a sea of pissed up gringos! We managed to bump in to almost everyone we had met on this trip so far and embarrassingly failed at salsa. After we had kissed a couple of frogs with some cringeworthy public displays of affection across town, we decided to call it a night and snuck off home. Only to wake up the next morning realising the guys we had kissed were actually staying in our hostel! So now sleep deprived and followed by our shame we hid in the tv room watching a chic flic until we had enough energy to load up like donkeys with all our worldly possessions and head off to find a bus out of this hell!