Colombia 2016: traveling

We just had a wonderful trip to Colombia, and in an attempt to document it, I thought I'd start with the low points before I get to the good stuff.

So what was the worst part of our trip?  The traveling.

The trouble started on the drive to the airport.  I wasn't feeling too well, but I assumed it's because I ate a few too many desserts.  But within seconds of arriving at long-term parking, I grabbed a plastic bag and lost it.  And unfortunately didn't have awesome aim, so my shoe didn't smell too awesome.  The next 12 hours were all downhill.  It was a red-eye flight, with a 5 hour layover in the early morning hours.  I was in so much pain I could barely sleep on the plane, so the second we arrived in Fort Lauderdale, I found a quiet piece of carpet and collapsed.  It felt so good to just sink onto the probably-dirty floor.  It's a sign of how poorly I felt that nothing sounded better.  [Sadly, this isn't the first time in my life I had to use the airplane throw-up bags... when I think about it now, it's kind of disgusting for everyone sitting around you, but I guess in the circumstances there's not much to be done about it!]

Sickness aside, the flights were normal.  We arrived in Colombia in the afternoon, and after clearing customs, were greeted by Hyrum's uncle and two aunts.  We got some lunch which I could finally tolerate.

We calculated that between our roundtrip flight to Colombia, and the traveling we did within the country, we spent more than 60 hours in airports and on buses.  Yikes.  That's 2.5 of our days spent traveling!  No wonder we were slightly exhausted, despite having grand adventures.

The craziest bus ride we took was from Medellin to Salento-- about 6 or 7 hours.  I read online that it was going to be a windy ride, which I thought was fine because I don't get car sick.  Hyrum and I got stuck in the last row of a 17 passenger van, and literally had to hold on to the arm rests the entire time so we didn't end up going through the windshield or hitting our heads on the ceiling.  The bus wound around through the mountains and it was bumpy.  How I envied the people sitting next to the driver who didn't seem to be bouncing at all.  And of course there aren't any seatbelts. I gladly would've strapped something on that would keep me in place.

Seat belts are an odd thing in Colombia.  I can't count the number of times I thought, "I wish I had a seat belt right now!"  Taxi drivers are absolutely crazy, as if they're trying to win an award for how many times they can change lanes in a 10 minute ride. [No blinker, of course.]  In one taxi, there was a sign hanging up asking people to use seat belts for their own safety.  So I was pleasantly surprised to see that this taxi did in fact had a seatbelt.  Come to find, it didn't actually extend far enough to buckle.  It seems like seat belts are just not a thing.  When Hyrum's uncle gave us a ride, I put on my seatbelt, and his wife commented, "You're accustomed to that, aren't you?  I never wear a seat belt."

Another travel adventure occurred when we were trying to make it back to Bogota, our home base for this trip.  To save on a hotel, we had the idea to take a night bus.  I've taken many in my life time, and they're usually quite comfortable for sleeping.  We asked over a dozen people about night buses, and they all assured us there were night buses departing for Bogota, 24 hours a day.  Lesson learned: Colombians love to provide information, whether it's right or wrong.  If they're asked a question, they like to give an answer.  I think it's their desire to always be helpful, but in this case, they were not helpful.   We arrived at the bus terminal around 6 pm, and after checking all the bus lines' ticket counters, no one was leaving for Bogota until the next morning.

We were at a loss.  We looked quite desperate, and asked some of the companies again if they'd have any buses for Bogota.  One guy said something might come up, but we'd just have to wait and keep checking.

In the mean time, we wandered the sketchy streets with all of our luggage trying to find an internet cafe, where we discovered a flight that night would cost nearly $150 per person.  We decided to hold out for a bus.  We waited and waited, and a guy standing nearby told us there was a bus company selling a few tickets to Bogota, but not publicizing it.  [He also commented that he disliked the bus line, and didn't provide reasons.]  We hesitated for a second, then hurried over to buy our seats.

We arrived at Bogota at 3:30 am after a decent night's sleep.

Me, waiting at the bus terminal.

Finally, our return flight back to Denver.  We were supposed to depart at 2 pm and arrive in Denver at 10:30.  Instead, our first flight was delayed, causing us to miss our second flight.  It was weather related, so there was no compensation and we spent the night sleeping on the floor of the Fort Lauderdale airport.  Not even inside the terminal -- we were just a stone throw away from the airport front doors.  It's easy to summarize the whole experience since I'm sitting in the comfort of my own house, but it was pretty traumatizing.  The airline was really unhelpful in Bogota, and acted like they didn't have a telephone to call anyone from their company.  We can't help you.  You have to wait til you get to Florida.  What century are we in?

The flight they booked us on the next day had a layover, so we wouldn't arrive to Denver until after 2 pm, which is when my Mom (watching our kids) was supposed to fly out.  We tried to figure out how to get home sooner, which ended up not being a possibility without spending another $400, so we ended up buying my mom a new ticket for later that night.

Once the logistics were worked out, and the money spent, it wasn't too awful.  Again, the comfort found on a dirty airport floor is a good indication of how one is feeling.  We were exhausted, and slept well while using our luggage as pillows and trying to hold on tight to our valuables.

Monday was the 4th of July, and we kept seeing people dressed in their patriotic clothes.  It was kind of annoying they were happy and celebratory while we were in the same clothes as the previous day, and all of our celebrating was cancelled because we couldn't make it home.  We had such expectations of being able to wake the kids up that morning and see their happy faces.

The one good thing that happened on the way home is a brief stop at the USO in Chicago.  We forgot it existed, and bought lunch, only to realize we could've had free lunch there. We enjoyed their recliners and drinks for an hour before catching the last leg of our trip back to Denver.

Almost two hours later we were pulling into our driveway.  We were probably happier to see the kids than they were to see us, and I'm sure my mom was probably happiest of all.  (A week is a long time to watch 3 little kids alone!)  We surprised them with all our fun Colombian souvenirs.

At 7:30 I left to bring my mom to the airport, and caught some great fireworks on the way home.  Driving on the freeway didn't give me much freedom to stop and enjoy, but it was more than I expected after a completely not-as-planned Independence Day.

And now, I make a resolve to not fly anywhere for the next year.  [We'll see how that goes.]  At least not fly anywhere with connecting flights.  And at least not out of the country.  And definitely not with kids.