The Journey’s End

If you want la aventura 

then take a tip from me

the proper way to travel 

is by 2cv

the engine is so simple

and she isn’t slung too low

if you want the trip to last, there’s no need to go too fast

it’s the only way to go

and it is.....

I’m writing this, sitting in the shade, at El Rio, with Modestine in pride of place on the drive. Tiesto, one of the El Rio cats, is asleep on her roof. The other cats tried to climb up the bonnet, which was wet, resulting in some hilarious scenes, but Tiesto took a different approach, and is enjoying his superior position (ideally placed to spot a tasty squirrel!)

Travelling north from Quito, with Ben, was a treat. I loved Ecuador - it was clean, green, and the roads were mercifully clear of potholes, so there was time for whoever who was driving to relax, and admire the views, which were truly spectacular. Driving north, the scenery became progressively more impressive, with the road traversing the hillside, mountains above, and - thousands of feet below- a river, thundering through a gorge. This scenario repeated itself throughout the day, as we drove, gasping at the amazing panoramas that nature was laying on for us. At some point we realised that we had crossed the equator, and were “up north” again, then - at 4pm - we entered the hell that was the border post to Colombia......

Apparently, a lot of Venezuelans are leaving for pastures new, due the disastrous economic situation there, and so there were hundreds of them at the border, going south. Unlike other frontiers, there seemed to be only one “main” crossing, the other being in the jungle, and it was the Colombian holidays too, so the world and his dog was queuing. The tedium was enlivened by the presence of street food vendors, selling every sort of snack. I discovered baked potatoes, stuffed with rice, and a hard boiled egg - so good that I had to have two - whilst Ben tried practically everything else! 8 whole hours later, we finally entered Colombia, at nearly midnight, having had a long wait for the final aduana, who was required to sign Modestine into the country

We did our touristy bit in the south. First we visited the ridiculous cathedral in the gorge at Ipiales, complete with priests in confession boxes, playing with their mobile phones. The cathedral was built around a hundred years ago, after the Virgin Mary apparently put in a surprise appearance, and looks like a Bake-Off gingerbread house, with lots of piped white icing. How they built it I can’t imagine, as it clings to the side of a gorge, supported by a massive buttress, with a bridge over the river that made me weak at the knees when I peered over the edge into the abyss. The path down was full of stalls selling religious tat, and roasted cuy, which is guinea pig. These are cooked whole, on a spit, and are not a pretty sight, although they allegedly taste good. We didn’t indulge

We stayed in Popayán, in an old monastery, which was beautiful, then crossed the paramo, on a dirt road, to San Agustin. On the way, we passed the area where the source of the mighty Rio Magdalena lies, hundreds of miles to the south of Barranquilla, where it eventually enters the Caribbean Sea

Another night, another monastery, but this one turned out to be only one year old. They’d done a splendid job, and certainly had us fooled. The sculpture park wasn’t to our taste - all the statues had been stood on a concrete base, and had a little shelter all of their own. We preferred Easter Island, but maybe we should have gone somewhere other than the park?

From there we visited the compact Tatacoa Desert, a strange little spot, with a red earth, lunar landscape, which we explored on foot. We moved on to the grey earth area, which was supposed to be equally other worldly, and discovered a swimming pool, plonked in the middle of it, in the depths of a gully - as bizarre a sight as I think I’ve encountered in South America. We set off for the north, and - finally - got a flat tyre. We christened the trolley jack, and the wheel brace, and were soon on the road again, pausing only for another sledgehammer session to fix the pothole damaged wheel

We followed the Magdalena for a long way, stopping for the night la Dorada, an interesting town, popular with holidaying Colombians, but not with foreigners. Pablo Escobar had a ranch there, and it seemed to be something of a tourist attraction for the locals. We think it was where he had his zoo - there were rumours of an escaped hippo, living in the river to this day....

A long, but interesting, drive to Valledupar was followed by a night in the Guajira Desert (not sure of the spelling), at Cabo de la Vela, where we reached the northernmost point available without a 4x4 and a guide. It’s a strange spot, reached via a long straight road, then a sandy piste. All along the way the road is blocked by children, with washing lines, hoping for money. They drop the line at the last minute, allowing you to drive over it. We encountered the real McCoy the following day, when - taking a detour through the swamps - we found the road blocked and a diversion in place. This had been created by an elderly couple, who had then strung barbed wire across the road - guaranteed to make us stop, and hand over some coins. Maestros!

And then El Rio, and a bottle of fizz to celebrate our safe arrival. I even forgot to cry! 

On the 24th we drive to Cartagena, and install Modestine in her cosy container for the voyage back to London. I leave on the 1st., having accomplished what I set out to do, and looking forward to planning my next adventure.....

Things I’ll miss: 

The people that I’ve met along the way

Spending time travelling, and at El Rio, with Ben 

Tootling along in my little car, day after day, listening to the Woman’s Hour podcast

Forgetting what day it is

Being relaxed, and having time to read a few books

The warm weather

Speaking Spanish - badly, but less badly than when I set off

The amazing landscapes

Things I won’t miss:

Wearing the same clothes day after day

Chucking the loo roll in the bin, and not down the loo!

The terrible driving in the cities

How anything official takes forever, and that you always need two copies of EVERYTHING 

Arepas! - although I don’t dislike them half as much as Ben

Sand flies and mosquitoes 

So it’s back to Broughton House, Puffin, and B and B. I’m looking forward to seeing my friends and family again, having a bath, and sleeping in my own bed - see you soon. Over and out xx