San Gil

No sooner was the excitement of Christmas over than we were packed into a car for a six hour drive to San Gil, a lovely town in the mountains to the north of Bogota. We stayed for three nights in a nice hotel with big rooms, a pool and a decent breakfast thrown in.

On the afternoon of our arrival we jumped unenthusiastically back in to the car but were rewarded with a visit to a lovely village called Barichara where all the roads are paved in local stone which is also used in all the buildings. The plaza had great Christmas lights and a giant flamingo.Angela's family

San Gil is a base for adventure sports and this was a main reason for the trip.

Sport number one was rafting down a local river. The valley was beautiful, the water cool and clear. The instructor boy at the back of the boat was clearly used to the Colombian tendency to chat and ignore instructions and so we progressed down river, through a number of rapids, in a relaxed and disorganised manner. For the record, Kike and Xavier were thrown from the boat twice, Rachel once, while Angela and I held on tight. But we all jumped in for an enjoyable float down stream and through some milder rapids.

Next up was abseiling. Not down a climbing wall but down a rather tall waterfall. Luckily the instructors were far keener on safety than some of the other guides we have encountered in Colombia. It wasn’t scary really but it was great fun moving down the rock face with water splashing on our heads. We jumped into a pool at the bottom of the waterfall and actually managed to feel chilly despite the daily temperatures in the 30s.

For our final dose of adventure sport we travelled in a jeep to the top of a hill with spectacular views all round. We took it in turns to be strapped up to a man and a parachute, lifted by the wind and guided, surprisingly peacefully, through the air. Parasailing was quite special. The setting was breathtaking and we set off just before sunset when the light was at its best, soaring with the birds and gazing at the mountains and valleys below.

Rachel taking off

Simon in the air

Thoroughly relaxed and satisfied we attempted the journey back. Firstly however, it took over an hour to check out (typical Colombian service in a state run hotel- the state often takes control of hotels confiscated from convicted drugs barons or disgraced politicians involved in bribery scandals). Not long after setting off the car started making funny noises. This led to a number of stops along the way including one opposite a village bullfighting stadium. There was lots of music and commotion so we went over to see what was going on. We wandered in to the wooden circular stands without a ticket and sat in the nearest free seats we could see. It didn’t take us too long to realise the reason everyone was there to watch a Mariachi band and that we were sat in the middle of said Mariachi band. We acted casually for a few minutes, ignoring the odd confused look from a trumpeter or a drummer, before finding more sensible seats and enjoying the show.

A decision was made to have the car towed back so we decamped to a small, old Japanese vehicle laid on by the insurance company. This eventually got us back to Bogota despite the driver preferring the safe side of 30mph and a puncture thrown in too, which I was happy to help sort out.