"Mbe lun do."

We left Salento heading to Cali, the salsa dancing capital of Colombia. We found a popular hostal among backpackers and travelers called Juvitas that offered free salsa lessons so we stayed there for a few nights, tooks some free lessons, went out on the town dancing and kept heading south. After Cali, we heading a few hours to Popanyan, where we spent Thanksgiving and had a lovely dinner out at an Italian restaurant (courtesy of my family since anything more than a ramen noodle dinner is out of our budget).
From Popanyan, we headed east over a horrendous road, reminiscent of the Dakar-Tamba, to the beautiful town of San Augustin. San Augustin is famous in Colombia for it`s Archaeology Park displaying the carved stones of an ancient civilization circa 3000 B.C. gone long before the rise of the Inca empire and the arrival of the Spanish. Not much is known about them other than what can be discovered and interpreted from their burial mounds and statues. We took a day long Jeep tour around the area visiting different parks, vistas, waterfalls, and villages, then another day spent visiting the main Archaeology park walking around. We stayed with a lovely and hospitable Colombian family owned hostal called Maya Hostal run by the patriarch, Super Mario. San Augustin was one of my favorite places we visited in Colombia.
Heading out of San Augustin, we headed to Mocoa, a place once dominiated by the guerilla terrorist organization F.A.R.C., not even mentioned yet in the Lonely Planet, and with only one hostel, Casa del Rio, owned by a Belgium guy named Filipe. The hostel was in a beautiful location and gorgeous but we were slightly unimpressed with the owner selling the tiny bananas that grow everywhere for 100 pesos a piece (should be free or at least 100 pesos for a handful) and his rule of closing the main building at 11pm when we were 20mins left in watching a movie (come on man, cut us some slack). Always try and stay with locally owned hostals over foreign owned. Local owners are much more hospitable and accommidating. Foreign owners are generally money-driven to all decisions. Gotta love that Capitalism! Anyway, we went on a hike called "El fin del mundo" or "the end of the world" which was SPECTACULAR. A muddy, steep, muddy, and steeper trail leads you up this mountain until you descend into a river valley with waterfall after waterfall, each which have large deep potholes carved from thousands of years of churning and forceful water wearing away at the rock (Which is stronger, water or rock? The Zen master always knows the answer is water), allowing you to jump from the top and swim around in the cool, crisp water before hiking to the next falls. Unbelievable hike. Wait till this place is in the travel books.

Mocoa was our last night in the beautiful, lovely, friendly, inspiring country that is Colombia. It may have had its bad years, many of them. But these people are strong, they believe in happiness above the violence and war that has plagued their soil for so long. They love their family, their country, their heritage, and they love to party, to celebrate life, love and fun times. It was inspiring to see a place or such wealth of spirit after so long living in fear and under corruption. We left Mocoa early, sitting in the back of a pick-up traveling through the mountains on a single lane dirt and gravel road on the side of a cliff, similar the road of dealth in Bolivia, connecting Mocoa with Pasto. From Pasto we headed to Ipialies, from Ipialies to the border. We got our exit stamps in our passport (Spirit Airlines, we weren`t lying...so go stick it where the sun don`t shine as Grandma would put it...I`d put it a little more vulgur but you can figure it out) and walked across the border into Ecuador. Ciao Colombia. "Mbe lun do." ("See you another day")

BIENVENIDOS A YAMBOLOMBIA!!

I read and heard about the small town of Salento, Colombia before I left the states for this journey. Coffee capital of Colombia, beautiful, mind-bending landscapes of the Cocora Valley, tallest palm trees in the world 7,000 ft up in the Andes mountains. How excited we must have been looking back on those webpages, on those photos. Seeing the town and surrounding landscape of Salento in person however, made that awe sitting at a computer look dismal. Salento may be heaven on Earth. The people may be angels or bodhisattvas. The population of the United States could learn alot from the people of Colombia.

We arrived in Salento at night after a two hour bus from Guatape to Medellin, a six hour ride from Medellin to Armenia, and an hour more or less from Armenia to Salento. Dumping rain cornered us into a internet cafe where Kara called the hostel we had found from a hand-made canvas poster in Guatape. Yambolombia! An eco-hostel a few kilometers from the main town owned by a local Colombian family. Gabriel and Carol, and their 14 year old daughter Daniella. Organic farmers, painters, jewelry makers, pure blooded creative artists. The hostel, painted a variety of colors and made from Guadua, a variety of bamboo (thicker than we know it in the states) the place was fantastic. The hostel has a small art studio in the backyard for traveling artists and the owners. On the side of the house, Gabriel has slowly begun terracing the sloping hill to create level organic vegetable gardens. A hike up the hill behind leads to a campfire ring, a flat plateau to camp with tents and a breathtaking view of the Cocora valley. The front porch overlooks a sweeping valley of coffee plantations, rivers, and beyond the lights of Armenia. The eco-hostel offers free coffee, free natural juices (lemonade, orange juice, mora, and more) and free agua-panella, a delicious hot drink with natural panella sugar famous in Colombia. Gabriel, his companion, Carol, and their daughter Daniella sharing their house with wanderers, nomads, like-minded souls.

We spent our first couple of days trying to find the breaks in the rain to hike the 3 or so kilometers into town to wander the streets, check out the artesanal shacks and shops, have a few beers and practice our ever-so-slowly-growing Spanish skills (I speak for myself...dondin dondin). The town center square is surrounded by either bars, restaurants, or trinket shops. We found a great AND cheap place to eat called Lucy´s serving large typical Colombian plates of soup, rice, salad, beans, some mixed vegetables or potatoes, and either a slice-slab of meat or trout. Delicious enough we would come back a few more times throughout our 10 day stint in Salento. At the end of the artesanal street, painted steps led skyward towards another mind-bending vista of the Cocora valley. We were lucky enough to reach the top to discover a beautiful full rainbow spaning the valley. Paradise.

The trip you want to do if you visit Salento is check out the Cocora valley. We caught a Jeep early one morning, standing on the back bumber holding on the the roof rack as we weaved our way down from the relative plateau of Salento into the valley. Gabriel had told us about the hike we needed to check out if we only spent one day in the valley. We made out down a deteriorating dirt (actually at this time of the year it´s knee deep mud from all the horse traffic) path skirting alongside barbed wire and cow pastures. Every so often we wound need to duck under the barbed wire and hike inside the pastures to avoid the pools of two foot deep mud. At one point my finger (thank God not my whole hand) grazed a line of electrified fence while switching between the trail and the pasture giving me a nice shot of adrenaline inducing shock. The pasture slowly turned to forest with the trail leading to a beautiful waterfall (one of hundreds we´ll experience throughout this journey). We followed the trail passing back and forth over the river on rickety bridges made from wood planks and guadua trunks following signs towards the hummingbird reserve. Each sign deceivingly made it seem like the reserve was only a kilometer or less ahead yet after each kilometer we found just another sign. Finally climbing about 3,000 ft in elevation from 6,500 to 8,500 ft, we reached a family run finca and reserve tucked up high in the cloud forests of the Andes mountains. For 3,000 Colombian pesos, the equivalent of roughly $1.50 (which goes towards the keep up of the trails and bridges) you get a nice refreshing cup of agua-panella and a nice slab of queso-campesino, a locally made cheese. The finca is surrounded by sugar-water bird feeders with hummingbirds zipping by back and forth like jet fighters in a dog fight. It was quite difficult to try and capture a focused picture of some of the brighter hummingbirds as the fly in to inhale some sugar water and zip away again.

On the way back down the mountain, we took another steep uphill detour to the "Finca de la Montana" (I haven´t figured out how to make the "n" with the squiggly line above it on these keyboards yet). From the finca, we took the rocky road winding its way back down to the main road in Cocora, conversing with a nice Colombian couple from Cali. Once back in Salento, we finished off a wonderful beautiful day with a cold beer and a nice meal at Lucy´s.

On our last day, we walked down our road from the hostel to a organic coffee plantation to get a tour of the fields and the process from plant to beverage. Our guide, Juan, walked us through the coffee fields, with two varieties of coffee plants interspersed with banana trees to give shade to the coffee. Juan showed us the difference between the ripe and unripe fruits, how you pick the bright yellow and red fruits making your way from plant to plant. Once back at the finca, the fruits are put through a mechanical peeler removing their first skin so that a moist off-white skin remains. The coffee fruits are then washed in water and put out in the sun or inside a greenhouse made from plastic and guadua so the seeds can dry (drying can take anywhere from a couple days in the sun to a couple weeks in the rainy season. Once dry the seeds are put into another peeler to remove their off-white second skin. Once the second skin is removed, you have what we know of as your coffee bean. They are put inside a pot over a hot fire and roasted until their aroma is permeating the whole finca. Once the beans are cooled, they are packaged and sold to town or to travelers and tourists visiting the finca for tours. Each of the three of us bought a bag, the freshest coffee we´ve ever tasted and quite possibly ever will. Throughout the morning, Juan had showed us the plantation of coffee plants, let us pick some ripe fruit from the limbs, peeled them, set them to dry, taken some dried seeds from prior harvest a week ago, peeled them again, roasted them over an open fire, ground them by hand, and made three delicious, fresh, organic cups of black, rich, aromatic coffee. Yum.

Our amazing ten days came to an end and we said our goodbyes to Gabriel, Carol, and Daniella, three people who invited us into their home as stranger, became friends, and felt like family leaving. We took a hand made poster for their hostel to put up in a low key chill hostel later on our journey (Maya Hostel in San Augustin). Gabriel gave us and our luggage a ride on his motocycle and trailer cart pulled behind it to town to catch a bus to Armenia and onward to Cali for some Salsa lessons and dancing. As happy as we were to be continuing our adventure, our journey, a part of us felt the pangs of leaving good friends, not knowing when we´d see them again.

First off, I apologize. I have ADD. I come into an internet cafe to catch up on the blog, check for hostels in the next town or city or country we`re heading to and what happens? A little email, a little news reading, a little football news and predictions (The Ravens are disappointing me). Next thing I know I`m forty minutes into my hour and I have not acomplished a thing. I have been meaning on giving Guatape the time it deserves in writing and now don`t think I will win this time.

The hostel we stayed at in Guatape, Lake View Hostel, had an activity book which travelers could look through at all the wonderful, beautiful things there were to do around Guatape. From climbing la Piedra, to horseback ride to the monastery, to taking a boat tour of the lake and checking out Pablo Escobar`s bombed out finca, to kayaking, to day trips to Rio Biscocho and San Rafael, each page made you want to stay long enough to experience it all. We did our best with the three weeks we were there.

On one of our first couple days, we decided on a trek to a nearby waterfall, unknown to most gringos and Colombians for the matter. The hostel owner made a call to a local family who were hired as our guides. The family, from northern Colombia, was displaced (i.e. kicked off their land by F.A.R.C., the current cocaine controlling group located in the far outposts of Colombia) and moved to Guatape to start over with nothing. They live by the side of the lake in a series of shanty shacks built from pieces of scrap wood and sheet metal. Ismael, the father, will do just about anything for money. He`ll take tourists fishing, hike to the waterfall, sell your bike for you for comission. We met Ismael and his two sons, Jonathon and Esnyder, and their huge black lab, Negro (Yes, his name was Black) outside the hostel and set off on our adventure.
Minutes into our hike, the three of us knew what amazing and beautiful souls our guides contained. Ismael was a born Naturalist. He would stop when he knew there were beautiful photo opportunities, point out birds and offer their names in Spanish, identify the plants and trees that were edible or used for some function. When we crossed the streams over slippery rocks, he or one of his sons held out their hand for Kara, Jess, and I to cross without wiping out. As we made our way from the cow pastures adjacent to the stream into the chilly interior of the forest, Ismael forged ahead with his machete chopping at the branches and bushes that can so easily sneak into the open sun spaces created by a trail. When we reached the waterfall, beautiful of course because every corner of this country is incredibly gorgeous, he warned us about how cold the pool would be, but we were three gringos on an adventure and needed to experience the waterfall in its own element, wet and freezing. Ismael used one of our digital cameras to mark the moment. Only crazy gringos want to swim in ice cold water. Afterward our ever-so-brief dip, we threw on all the layers we brought and began making our way back down through the valley shaped and carved by thousands of years of steady and constant water trickling through the path of least resistance.
On the way back, we thought we`d just take the same road back to the hostel but Ismael, Jonathon, and Esnyder took us a back loop through pastures overlooking the fingers of the lake, sneaking like a thief into the far corners of the Guatape valley. At one point, Ismael jumps up a tree and rips off an entire branch laden with a yellow-green fruit, bright pink on the inside with yellow seeds, delicious (so long as you don`t eat one with a worm inside...no biggie). We make our way, the long way, back towards the hostel and stop at their home. As we walked up, four beautiful tiny puppies come rushing up to greet us. One all black, one mostly black with a white chest and two white paws, one brown, and one a khacki tan. So cute. It was hard not taking one with us. Soon we were walking again making our way back to the hostel, each of us giving Ismael a bit more money than we were obligated to, they deserved it all. I pulled my Livestrong and One bracelets off my wrists and handed them over to Jonathon and Esnyder, small tokens of thanks for their humility and hospitality as our guides.
Over the next two and half weeks in Guatape, we`d randomly see Ismael in town, one time him riding his bike with a guitar case on his back searching for a pick. I don`t think it was his but he was selling it for someone and wanted a pick to be included. The handfuls of travelers to stay at Lake View during our stay, the waterfall hike with Ismael and his sons was the first we would recommend. It`s by far worth it.

We hiked the rock one sunny day, giving us a 360 degree panoramic view of the lake. Wonderful. We took the three hour boat tour around the lake, visiting Pablo Escobar`s finca and restaurant, bombed by the Colombian government sometime back in the early 90`s in an attempt to kill him (He escaped). People have since left their mark on the walls of his lakeside home, restaurant and disco with grafitti (some very talented grafitti artists here in Colombia) while others have clearly dug up and busted down walls looking for stashes of money and cocaine. I`m sure some people found some too. Other days we headed a couple thousand feet less in elevation for a warmer day lounging and swiming the the river, having a cheap beer and a good book sitting in the warm sun. All of these mini-trips and adventures were amazing in their own right but I know, looking back on our time in Guatape, I will remember fondly our hike with Ismael and his sons. A family that has been through so much, seen terror I can only imagine, left with no posessions other than what they can carry, and there they were, happy, smiling, courteous and warm. They are the living breathing example of the Colombian culture and people we have met and experience here over the past five weeks. I would choose Colombia over downtown Baltimore on a scale of trust and ease any day of the week. I hope one day we`ll visit Guatape again and visit with our new friends.

Guatape, How I Love Thee

Bumming around hostels in Medellin looking for the cheapest place to stay, the three of us found ourselve in Calle 10 Hostel our first night. Calle 10 is a local hostel so it seems. With only spanish speaking travelers, mostly Argentinians, spanish speaking volunteers and workers and a fairly relaxed attitude about everything, we spent our first night in the cheapest hostel we had found yet. 16.000 pesos or $8 a night. This blog is not about Calle 10 or Medellin. It is about Guatape.

A poster on the wall of Calle 10 hostel shows a rock protruding from nowhere with no other massive monoliths around. Surrounding the rock is a lake as blue as the sky. The poster was an advertisement for Lake View Hostel in Guatape, Colombia, a 1.5 hour bus trip from Medellin. The poster listed opportunities to kayak, bike, fish, hike to waterfalls, booze-cruise on a boat around the massive lake. All things that would sound enticing to three nomadic voyageurs on a quest to get out of the metropolis, out of the fast food, the "look we have McDonalds too" cities of Bogota and Medellin. But the last line on the poster read "Volunteer and stay for free!" DONE.

I sent a quick email to the owner, Greg, an American from Santa Barbara, California, about the three of us interested in volunteering for one to two weeks. We got a quick reply telling us the previous volunteer had just left and they could use two of us. He said most volunteers come for a week and stay a month. We would soon believe. So we planned on all volunteering and then just splitting the cost of one person 20.000 pesos or $10 a night three ways. $3.34 a night is not a bad deal for this town. The main streets are painted bright colors with beautiful "zocales" depicting everything from orchids to la Piedra to men with dump trucks mixing concrete. These zocales, designed along the base of the walls, uplift your mood even when you are already on cloud nine at the majestic beauty of the surround environment. The people are as nice and friendly as anyone I have ever met. "La Piedra" (The Rock) sits as a magnificent backdrop resembling a meteor that crashed into the Andes and has remained ever since. The hostel, true to its name, sits fifty yards from the lake shore overlooking a finger of the body of water to the west with the rock always looming.

Our first two nights in the hostel we relaxed with Greg and Nick the co-owners. Nick, from London, has been living in Colombia for two years. He and Greg met in a bar one night, talked about how wonderful this country is, how beautiful the women are, and how because of years of violence and drug cartels tourism is only on the incline with the current stability. So they decided drunkenly to create a hostel. And this is where they´ve been since. Our third day we learned the ropes of the difficult volunteering schedule, not. One of us needs to get up around 8:30 in the morning, open up the hostel, mop the floors, throw some clean laundry out on the line, and make breakfast for the other two sleeping beauties. That wasn´t required but that became our system. If a traveler shows up, we give them a key, show them to the dorm or private room, explain the odds and ends of the hostel (free instant coffee, free tea, wifi code, activities book, yada yada yada). When someone checks-out, change the sheets, clean the bathrooms, mop the floors. All in all, each day I´d say we work about 2 hours tops. During the day, either Greg or Nick is around, so we have the ability to climb the rock, kayak, take a day trip down to the tropical Rio Biscotcho or Las Tangas. Everything about this town is remarkable. Every other phrase out of all of our mouths is "I could live here." Our one week quickly turned into three before we finally decided to head out on a full day´s travel to Salento, coffee capital of Colombia, where I sit now trying to catch up on this blog. One of these days I will really sit and collect my thoughts and bring everyone up to even on what´s going on. As I´m finishing writing I can hear the downpour of rain outside (Welcome to the rainy season). This should be a moist 30 minute walk back to our eco-hostel. Where´s my raincoat?

Bienvenida a Colombia!

Now that the Spirit Airlines fiasco is behind us (still hoping on a refund or voucher though my gut says they won´t), we can fully take in the Colombia we set out to see. Our first two nights we spent at the apartment of Juan in northern Bogota. We found Juan on Couchsurfing.org a website devoted to finding like-minded travelers who will host other travelers in their homes for free instead of them paying for hostels and hotels. Juan was a very gracious host, telling us how to get around Bogota and helping us make sure our bags were delivered to his apartment on Wednesday evening. Juan´s family owns a construction company in Colombia focused on apartment complexes. What´s amazing about their company is that they put 15% of their profits to a foundation his grandfather started which provides almost free housing to university students who come from the poor provinces of Colombia. Without the help of the foundation these students who have overcome the odds of making it to the university grade-wise wouldn´t be able to afford living in Bogota. We spent much of our time waiting for our bags chatting with and getting to know another couchsurfer staying at Juan´s named Alice, from Malaysia, who quit her job as a computer engineer to travel the world West-East. Japan, Mexico, Guatamala, El Salvador, Cuba, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru, South Africa, India, and southeast Asia back home. She was truly an inspiration, someone who has a dream and instead of saying maybe when I retire is doing it, here and now.

Once we got our bags we heading out of Juan´s gracious and thankful and made our way into the heart of historic Bogota. We found a fairly cheap hostel called Musicology Hostel where we used as a home base for a day to see some of historic Bogota. The Museo de Oro (Gold Museum), the Museo de Botero (Fernando Botero) and some historic landmarks all situated within walking distance of the hostel. We heard from a friend that there was a free music festival this weekend in Medellin, a 10 hour bus ride north of Bogota, and decided to check it out. After our first night in Musicology we packed up and took an overnight bus for $30 (much more expensive than we had anticipated) to Medellin. To be fair, the bus was VERY nice with reclining seats that nearly become beds. I was blessed to have a teenager in front of me who didn´t recline his all the way (they can actually pin the person behind which probably isn´t the safest but oh well). We slept the whole time to awaken to a city tucked in a valley of the Andes mountains. Medellin has the only metro in Colombia, cheap, clean, and efficient, it puts our public transport in some US cities to shame. One portion of the metro is the metrocable, a cable car that takes you steeply up the slope of the eastern mountain above the poor slums of Medellin to a beautiful parc where you can ride horses, rent bikes, see flora and fauna all over the place, all things we weren't able to do at the time, either too expensive or we had to get back to skype with some fam.

Tuesday, we'll be heading to a small village a hour bus ride from Medellin called Guatape. We found a hostel (Lakeviewhostel.com) where we can volunteer and stay for free. So we're planning on holing up there for a week or so to save some money and practice our spanish while using the mountain bikes and kayaks for free. Can't see this not going good for us.

Spirit Airlines Has No Soul!

It´s Monday, the day before Kara, Jess, and I leave for Colombia, and I´m online at spiritairlines.com to check in for our flight. We booked a one way ticket through cheaptickets.com from LaGuardia, New York to Bogota, Colombia with a connecting flight and 52 minute layover in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. I find that Spirit charges for every bag you check or plan on carrying on and stowing in the overhead bins. The first checked bag for an international flight (bag must be under 40 lbs) is $30 if you check it online before your flight and $40 if you check it at the desk at the airport. So obviously we want to save $10 each and pay for our bags ahead of time. Well, when I push the button to check in, it tells me I can´t check in online and need to see a representative at the desk at the airport. So I decide to call "customer service" (from now on only to be refered to as "donkey´s rectum"). After navigating 20 minutes worth of "press 1 for english, press 4 for technical assistance, press 666 to speak to the devil" I spoke to a donkey´s rectum representative somewhere in India. I explained how I couldn´t check in online and wanted to pay for my bags before getting to the airport to save money and this is where the worst airline experience or my life begins...

Spirit Airlines Donkey´s Rectum Rep: "Yes so you will need to pay the $20 for your checked bag from LaGuardia to Ft. Lauderdale, then $40 for the same bag when you recheck it from FLL to Bogota."

Me: We have a connecting flight. We should only have to pay the $40 international fee at Laguardia and our bags will be transfered to the connecting flight. Are you telling me that you expect us to get off our plane in Florida, leave the gate terminal to baggage claim, wait for our bags, recheck them at the Spirit desk, go back through security and try to make our connecting flight ALL in the 52 minutes between flights IF we have 52 minutes between when we land and when we need to board our second plane??

Spirit Airlines Donkey´s Rectum Rep: Yes. Sir, you have booked two one way tickets, one for Laguardia to Fort Lauderdale and the second for Ft. Laud. to Bogota. You do not have a connecting flight.

Me: No, we do have a connecting flight. I have my cheaptickets.com itinerary here in front of me. It´s a connecting flight. Our bags need to be transfered or we will not make our second flight. I apologize but I´d like to speak to your supervisor.

SADRR: Please hold a moment to speak to my supervisor.

30-40 minutes pass on hold

Spirit Airlines Donkey´s Rep Manager: Hi, Mr Egan, how may I help you.

I ask for his name. Colin Woods, employee number 17726. I explain my situation and politely explain how Spirit has made a mistake and needs to simply change our flights not the flight number, not the time, just make it say connecting so our bags get transfered over. He tells me he cannot help, the best he can do is cancel our flights (we won´t be refunded) and get us a connecting flight from Laguardia to Bogota on October 15th that will cost us $870.90. He says cheaptickets.com booked us two one way tickets instead of one one way with a connection in FLL. He wastes my time for another 10-15 minutes saying there´s nothing he can do so I finally say thanks for nothing and hang up to call cheaptickets customer service.

I call cheaptickets and get ahold of a customer service rep named Titus in the Phillipines within seconds of the phone ringing. I explain everything that just happened with the Spirit Airlines Rep and the first thing he says is "That´s absurd." My point exactly! So I apologize to Titus but tell him I need the highest authority I can speak to with cheaptickets and he passes me on to his manager Tyler. Tyler looks at my itinerary and confirms we have a one way connecting flight to Bogota. He says this has happened before with Spirit and he will call them personally and get the flight fixed. He calls back two hours later and says he used all of his available resources and fixed the problem. And we thought we were past the difficult part.

Tuesday 4 AM: Awake and ready to get to Laguardia. We arrive hour and a half before our flight to check in. The Donkey´s Rectum Agent (Spirit Airlines Agent # 56117) looked at our flight information and asked for proof of return or onward travel from Colombia. We told her we were traveling overland to Ecuador to visit friends of family and showed her the email from the Ecuadorian family we would be visiting. Agent 56117 told us this meant nothing and we either needed a flight or a train or a bus ticket with us then and now to show we would be leaving or she would not let us check in and obtain our boarding passes. That or nothing. Neither Kara, Jess, nor I had our cell phones since we would be out of the country and we had to politely beg a stranger to borrow their phone to call anyone we could to check online if it was possible to buy bus tickets from Bogota to Quito, Ecuador over the internet. I called my father at 5:30AM apologizing profusely but needing him to jump on the computer and look. Nothing would come up, only blogs about the bus ride between the cities. With all hope lost, we were money raped by Spirit Airlines into buying a return ticket to Fort Lauderdale for Nov. 11th (the cheapest ticket we could get) even though we have no intention of using it (Sorry Kara´s fam). The agent said we would not be allowed into Colombia immigrations without this proof.

We race through security and to our gate, no time to fill our water bottles, to make our flight. It´s not until we are on the flight we realize the tickets the incompetent agent booked us to show proof of exiting Colombia, she put Jess´ name on one, and MY NAME on both my ticket and Kara´s! What the fuck? How can this airline be so horrible?! Now we´re worried if we don´t get this fixed in Ft. Lauderdale then immigration in Colombia won´t let Kara in. During the flight I chat with Lars, the flight attendant, who lives out of his truck in Ft. Lauderdale and works to travel. I tell him our horseshit story and he completely agrees it´s BS. Our plane lands late in Florida, we have to race just to catch our connecting flight, no time to speak with a Donkey´s Rectum Rep and no time to fill our water bottles again (I stress the water bottle filling because Spirit Airlines has no complementary drinks on domestic or international. H2O costs $3 a bottle) On the second flight, I walk back towards the bathroom and ask the flight attendant, "So, no complementary water on international flights, huh?" He replies, "Sorry no, I can give you complimentary cups of ice cubes." So there Kara, Jess, and I are trying to get the sunlight through the plane´s window onto our tray tables to melt the ice faster so we can have baby sips of water (We refuse to buy $3 bottles of water on a flight).

We land safely in Bogota, 7,000 ft above sea level with hardly a drop of water all day, to find our checked bags never made it onto our connecting flight. We go through immigration, not a word or question about HOW we are leaving, just asking how long we are staying. SPIRIT AIRLINES IS FULL OF SHIT! So we find the other passengers from Laguardia to Bogota missing their luggage and an extremely nice Colombian man shows us where to go to speak to the Spirit Airlines representatives. We find John, the customer service representative (I write it for him because he deserves it) and he had us fill out the paper to have our bags delivered the next day to the place we´re staying, a posh apartment in northern Bogota with a Juan and Sarah, two people we found on Couchsurfing.org we met who are letting us crash. There is another couch surfer there named Alice from Malaysia who had the exact same problem with Spirit from Ft Lauderdale to Bogota BUT she told them the same thing about traveling overland and they let her go!

So my plan is to write essentially this blog to any newspaper I can find emails for about how incredibly SOULESS Spirit Airlines is. ¿Donde esta mi dinero Spirit??