From the Sky to the Beach

It's Feb 22nd, and Im about ready to head to the airport, about one hours drive up on a plateau above Medellin.  Last night, we were delivered back to town, driving through a huge thunderstorm through the mountains.  Driving in this country is a terrifying  and this drive was no exception.  Driving rain, steep, winding road with dozens and dozens of diesel trucks inching up the road, with Rubin impatiently passing on blind curves.  At times, we encounter a diesel on the blind curve, and sometimes are forced to take the curve sandwiched in between the two trucks with inches seperating us on both sides.  Rubin smiles and takes these close calls in stride as routine maneuvers. Chris, one of the Canadians and I are in the back of the van, with plastic cups held high, collecting the streams of water pouring through holes in the roof of the van.  

Once back at the hostel, gratefully alive, it was time to pay off the bet I had with the Canucks on the USA/Canada Olympic Hockey game.  After being gathered up after the last flight near La Pintada, we were able to catch the last minute of the game via live internet at the open air restaurant with wifi.  The game meant much more to them than it did to me, and I was happy to pay off the bet with a few beers.  The Canucks are off to Cartagena today too, for a week of sailboard lessons before they meet more Canadian buddies for another paragliding tour of central Colombia.  They are a good bunch of guys, and we part with the idea of me heading up to BC and Alberta to fly in their neighborhood in the future.

My last night in Medellin was not a pleasant one.  I got stuck in a full 10 bed dorm room with with Euros of 20something vintage.  Due to a hip injury sustained on my last landing, I could barely climb the ladder of the top bunk...no air, loud music, guys streamin in and out...our neighborhood is Party City.  Nothing left to do, but slam home a sleeping pill and get through the night thinking that someone of my age should not have to do this,  but sadely, there were no other options tonight.

All in all, the break paragliding in Colombia was a good and satisfying experience.  Jim has been going through difficulty with the truck shipping arrangements, and is now in Cartagena waiting for the truck and me to arrive.  As he says in his emails, shipping a truck has been very frustrating and everyone seems to make it a much harder experiencethan it needs to be.  The consensus of those I speak to, it's because no one reall gives a sh#* (cares).  I hope Jim is in a good mood when I arrive...I am.  I seem to have reached reached an equilibrium, where I am comfortable with my surroundings and conditions...and everything that comes with low budget Latin American land travel.

  Damasco, a 270 year old villiage high in the mountains, established by the spanish to exploit locals for gold mining.